They say it is all about timing. Stock markets, real estate markets, promotions, personal life decisions. They say that everything is about timing when to do what, when to make the most of what happens. They say you can make it or break it depending on the timing of events and decisions in your life. Is it? Can you?
I wonder...I haven't thought about this much until now. I am the sort of person who plans for everything in life. I live by a mental check-list of things I need to do and by when I need to get them done. Unplanned events are OK, as long as I have a plan on how to deal with them :) Almost all of the important events in my life have been planned...or so I like to think.
I look at people who live their lives by the seat of their pants, and sometimes, very occasionally, I envy them, but for the life of me, I cannot be like that. So, I have to know how to deal with every situation, weigh the pros and cons, and make the best choice under the circumstances. But what about timing...do I specifically pay attention to that? And how much of a role has it played in my life....?
I think it has played a big role, given everything. I think I am where I am, doing what I am, because of the timing of events in the past. Some of these events just happened at those times, others I made happen at those times. Together, it has landed me where I am. I acknowledge that, and am happy about it. Often times, we tend to point fingers at fate dealing us a set of circumstances, but isn't it also about what we do to deal with it, and importantly, when we deal with it? True, we cannot foresee the timing of future events in our life, but then, we always have had only the present and the past to work with.
Someone told me today that Life is all about timing. This is a person struggling with complex life and work decisions. I think of all the complex personal and professional situations I have been in in my own life, and the part that timing has played in them. Maybe its time to take stock of them, make peace with them, and learn a few lessons for the future.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Back after a Hiatus
It's been a long while since I came to these parts...lots of things happenning...life changes, work changes, and yes this winter :-) I am more convinced than ever that I am a Summer person. I was born in the summer, my name literally means "Summer". Sunny personality? Maybe not all of the time, but hey, I am no morose creature either. One thing is for sure - I don't like the cold. It does nothing to alleviate my mood. Realized the importance of the Sun this winter which seems to be relentlessly going on...
So waiting for spring, the warmth of the sun, and the inevitable uplifting of the spirit that it brings.
So waiting for spring, the warmth of the sun, and the inevitable uplifting of the spirit that it brings.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Two Kinds of People
My good friend and esteemed colleague He-Man and I had a most interesting conversation the other day. On one of our usual coffee and a tete-a-tete sessions, He-Man announced with a rather serious face that in Q4 '07, a realization dawned on him, as clear as the light of day.
He said that he firmly believes that all of the people in the world can be divided into exactly two categories. The first group, he postulated - contains the 'Acquisition' minded people. These people, he claims, know exactly what they want out of life, and what they need to do to get what they want, and how they need to do it. And they simply acquire other people as they go along - people who will help them get what they want. And they do it ruthlessly. With the utmost confidence in their capabilities, wasting no time on people or things that will not help them achieve what they want.
The second group of people are the ones that get acquired by the first group. Mind you, He-Man cautioned, these people are not losers, they are not pathetic junkies or flunkies that get only the raw end of the deal. They can be successful (after all, success is relative, now isn't it?), they can be happy with their lives. BUT, they get acquired by the Acquition people. The Acquired usually are seen ambling along, making friends here and there, making banter, indulging in this and that, here and there. They have goals, they have ambitions, but they take their own sweet time getting to them, if at all. They are smart, and intelligent and hard working, but they also have a super heightened sense of ethics, and usually a fair burden of emotional involvement in all their dealings. The Acquisition people devour them, always to their own end. And they dont have a single qualm about it. What's more, they apply the same principle to every aspect of their life.
He-Man listed all the names of people on our team that fell into the two categories. Amazingly, he was right. It was true. The people fit the categorization like a glove to a hand.
I thought this was a most interesting way to describe the fundamental difference between people. BUT - I wondered if it was overly simplified. What if, it was possible to strike a balance between the two categories. What if the first step was to simply be sure which category you belong to, and then see if being that way is good for the different areas of your life? Was it even possible? Further, is it absolutely horrible if you are not an Acquisition person? Are you doomed for an ordinary, mediocre life with no hope of reaching the stars? I want to badly say 'No, of course, not!', but He-Man is so sure of his theory, that he will bet his bottom dollar on it. You are either born with it, or you have to do something so drastic and groom and train yourself so specifically to get it, he believes.
Interesting. I know I am going to be using this lens on everyone I know or meet for a while at least. :-)
He said that he firmly believes that all of the people in the world can be divided into exactly two categories. The first group, he postulated - contains the 'Acquisition' minded people. These people, he claims, know exactly what they want out of life, and what they need to do to get what they want, and how they need to do it. And they simply acquire other people as they go along - people who will help them get what they want. And they do it ruthlessly. With the utmost confidence in their capabilities, wasting no time on people or things that will not help them achieve what they want.
The second group of people are the ones that get acquired by the first group. Mind you, He-Man cautioned, these people are not losers, they are not pathetic junkies or flunkies that get only the raw end of the deal. They can be successful (after all, success is relative, now isn't it?), they can be happy with their lives. BUT, they get acquired by the Acquition people. The Acquired usually are seen ambling along, making friends here and there, making banter, indulging in this and that, here and there. They have goals, they have ambitions, but they take their own sweet time getting to them, if at all. They are smart, and intelligent and hard working, but they also have a super heightened sense of ethics, and usually a fair burden of emotional involvement in all their dealings. The Acquisition people devour them, always to their own end. And they dont have a single qualm about it. What's more, they apply the same principle to every aspect of their life.
He-Man listed all the names of people on our team that fell into the two categories. Amazingly, he was right. It was true. The people fit the categorization like a glove to a hand.
I thought this was a most interesting way to describe the fundamental difference between people. BUT - I wondered if it was overly simplified. What if, it was possible to strike a balance between the two categories. What if the first step was to simply be sure which category you belong to, and then see if being that way is good for the different areas of your life? Was it even possible? Further, is it absolutely horrible if you are not an Acquisition person? Are you doomed for an ordinary, mediocre life with no hope of reaching the stars? I want to badly say 'No, of course, not!', but He-Man is so sure of his theory, that he will bet his bottom dollar on it. You are either born with it, or you have to do something so drastic and groom and train yourself so specifically to get it, he believes.
Interesting. I know I am going to be using this lens on everyone I know or meet for a while at least. :-)
Friday, December 28, 2007
Joy to the World
No, it wasn't a 'White Christmas' around here, but it sure was freezing. You walk through or drive through neighbourhoods and you see houses lit with lights (the electric kind of course). Some of them are really elaborate, with huge X-Mas scenes enacted outside on the front lawns....complete with glowing reindeer, Santa on the sleigh, and of course there are Christmas trees with all of their decorations everywhere. In some way, the whole scene is reminiscent of a huge festival like Diwali back home. I guess Christmas is pretty much the only festival celebrated in this way around here.
Everywhere, on TV, on the radio, in the malls...everywhere, the same 4 Christmas songs are played again and again and again. As my good friend A recently remarked exasperatedly - Everyone from Frank Sinatra to Beyoncee has their version of the same songs. Seriously, why couldnt they have come up with more songs? It gets to a point where you start to hear those same opening bars, and you start saying "Aargh" :-). This time though, I have become a little immune to it, I think.
In any case, Christmas has come and gone and here's wishing everyone for the occasion. Two more days to go before the new year begins.
Warm wishes from the bottom of my heart for the best that it can bring to all of you.
Everywhere, on TV, on the radio, in the malls...everywhere, the same 4 Christmas songs are played again and again and again. As my good friend A recently remarked exasperatedly - Everyone from Frank Sinatra to Beyoncee has their version of the same songs. Seriously, why couldnt they have come up with more songs? It gets to a point where you start to hear those same opening bars, and you start saying "Aargh" :-). This time though, I have become a little immune to it, I think.
In any case, Christmas has come and gone and here's wishing everyone for the occasion. Two more days to go before the new year begins.
Warm wishes from the bottom of my heart for the best that it can bring to all of you.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
And then there was Light
I landed in Bangalore on the day of Deepavali. This was the first time I had timed my visit to co-incide with the festival since I left home a few years ago. Needless to say, there was an unbelievable amount of excitement both on my side as well as my family's. The flight landed in the wee hours of the morning, which lent well to the traditional "yenne shaastra" (or oil bath ritual), which is the customary early morning cleansing of the body on this most auspicious occasion.
Deepavali is arguably one of the most important Hindu festivals in India. For one, it is celebrated by all denominations of the Hindu religion and also throughout India (both North and South) at the same time. Interestingly - in Northern India, the return of Lord Rama from exile after defeating Ravana is the supposed cause for the jubilation, while in the South, it is Lord Krishna's vanquishing of the evil demon Narakasura that is the cause of celebration. The fact is that the whole country celebrates the festival, more or less. And in the merry-making which includes good food, sweets and fire-works (plenty of it), a lot of non-Hindus also participate.
In any case, I was totally looking forward to experiencing this festival at home. Mom had prepared the tastiest of sweets and food. Friends and relatives called to wish us. It is a time when people remember each other, I guess. And when evening time came, we did what we've always done for years. We lit little diyas (small earthen oil lamps) and placed them outside the main door of the house, and along the compound wall, etc. Other houses in the neighbourhood were doing the same, and it is such a beautiful sight, I tell you. It really is one of my personal favourite activities of the festival. The significance is even more beautiful - you want the lamps to light the way for luck, health and prosperity into your home. Light over darkness. Good over evil.
As usual, no fireworks for us. As little children, G and I decided that we are not going to "burn" money on firecrackers and also not contribute to the immense pollution that fireworks cause to the environment. That simply holds true this year as well.
What we did do, however, was climb up the stairs to the terrace, and then the additional ladder to the absolute top of the house. Even Mom made this somewhat precarious trip, and soon, the whole family was on the terrace with a pretty darned good view of the south of Bangalore. And what a sight it was! It was night now, and everyone was in true Deepavali mode. Soon enough, there were fireworks all over the place - rockets shooting upwards and then bursting into splashes of colour. Bombs exploding from all directions. Because we were at an elevation, we could see colourful fireworks in all directions. I think this is a very very indigenous experience. You have to be there to see how it looks, and feel how it feels. You cannot really explain to an outsider the scale on which this festival is celebrated.
Newer and more colourful rockets seem to have sprung up. I was told that some of them cost upwards of a couple of thousand rupees each! I cannot believe that so many people were paying so much for a couple of seconds of fun. Literally burning up money.
We spent a good deal of time there, catching the lights of the city, and talking, laughing, sharing jokes and stories. After that, it was a traditional Deepavali dinner. The fireworks continued through the rest of the night.
I know I will remember and cherish this Festival of Lights I spent with my family this year.
Deepavali is arguably one of the most important Hindu festivals in India. For one, it is celebrated by all denominations of the Hindu religion and also throughout India (both North and South) at the same time. Interestingly - in Northern India, the return of Lord Rama from exile after defeating Ravana is the supposed cause for the jubilation, while in the South, it is Lord Krishna's vanquishing of the evil demon Narakasura that is the cause of celebration. The fact is that the whole country celebrates the festival, more or less. And in the merry-making which includes good food, sweets and fire-works (plenty of it), a lot of non-Hindus also participate.
In any case, I was totally looking forward to experiencing this festival at home. Mom had prepared the tastiest of sweets and food. Friends and relatives called to wish us. It is a time when people remember each other, I guess. And when evening time came, we did what we've always done for years. We lit little diyas (small earthen oil lamps) and placed them outside the main door of the house, and along the compound wall, etc. Other houses in the neighbourhood were doing the same, and it is such a beautiful sight, I tell you. It really is one of my personal favourite activities of the festival. The significance is even more beautiful - you want the lamps to light the way for luck, health and prosperity into your home. Light over darkness. Good over evil.
As usual, no fireworks for us. As little children, G and I decided that we are not going to "burn" money on firecrackers and also not contribute to the immense pollution that fireworks cause to the environment. That simply holds true this year as well.
What we did do, however, was climb up the stairs to the terrace, and then the additional ladder to the absolute top of the house. Even Mom made this somewhat precarious trip, and soon, the whole family was on the terrace with a pretty darned good view of the south of Bangalore. And what a sight it was! It was night now, and everyone was in true Deepavali mode. Soon enough, there were fireworks all over the place - rockets shooting upwards and then bursting into splashes of colour. Bombs exploding from all directions. Because we were at an elevation, we could see colourful fireworks in all directions. I think this is a very very indigenous experience. You have to be there to see how it looks, and feel how it feels. You cannot really explain to an outsider the scale on which this festival is celebrated.
Newer and more colourful rockets seem to have sprung up. I was told that some of them cost upwards of a couple of thousand rupees each! I cannot believe that so many people were paying so much for a couple of seconds of fun. Literally burning up money.
We spent a good deal of time there, catching the lights of the city, and talking, laughing, sharing jokes and stories. After that, it was a traditional Deepavali dinner. The fireworks continued through the rest of the night.
I know I will remember and cherish this Festival of Lights I spent with my family this year.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Who and What you are...and Will be...
"Scrape below the skin and we're flesh and bone; scrape below that and we're code."
~ "Decode your DNA", Thomas Goetz, Wired, December 2007
Apparently, now, for just a mere $1000, one can have a peek into one's genetic code (or genome), and instantly see not just where one came from in terms of genetics, but also where one is headed - also in terms of genetics. What this means to lay persons is that you can now see your genetic make-up, and your ancestors' genetic make-up, who in your ancestral lineage you are most like (so, for example, do you take up after your father's side of the family, or your mother's, etc) and what kind of gene codes you possess, in turn telling you what kind of risk you are at for countless number of physiological conditions, illnesses, and diseases.
This is a brand new industry - as a potential customer, you spit into a vial and the company (in this case, the name of the pioneering company is 23andMe) then scans your DNA, and it spits out your history and your future, which, some early testers and adapters have described as "simultaneously unsettling, illuminating and empowering". Apparently, this kind of "retail genomics" will help people adopt personalized medicine. So, knowing you are at 20% more risk for heart disease than the average individual because your maternal grandfather was at 40% more risk than the average individual and he, in all his blessed ignorance, has passed on that very particular gene marker onto you, his dear grandchild, will now mean that you really should not wait until you are 50 to go easy on the cholestrol intake. It means that you can start worrying about it NOW, and take preventive measures NOW.
How nice. Just what we needed, I think. More information overload.
But, the author of this most interesting article states - this thing should not so easily be dismissed. There is something in this, he claims. This is the first time in history, that such information is even available to the ordinary person. One can not just look backwards at one's lineage, but explore relationships with other ethnic groups around the world. Family members can share profiles, trace origins of particular traits and compare genes through DNA networking. Its just a new way for people to access information about themselves, he says.
And what is more fascinating, is that so far, only the surface has been scratched. The kind of information that 23andMe is capable of giving customers is based on sequencing only a small part of the entire human genome. In the near future, it is expected that the price of scrutinizing and sequencing a human's entire genome (some 6 billion or so pieces of information) will fall so drastically, that more personalized information will become available to whoever is eager to receive it.
I wonder though, whether this whole thing bodes well for us and our lifestyles. Sure, knowing that I am risk for some radical disease might be helpful if I dont absolutely know that any of my ancestors has ever had it. Or even a known disease for that matter. If I already know, for instance, that my paternal grandpa died of a heart-attack, and therefore I am by default at risk for it - and if my genome sequence (after I shell out $1000) confirms that I am at x% risk for heart disease - what am I going to do next? Am I going to worry that the general population is only (x-y)% at risk, unlike me? The bigger question is, am I going to alter the way I live because of this information? Am I going to ask my doctor to start treating me NOW, for conditions I might encounter in the future? How much am I going to worry about all of the new found information? Dont I have enough to worry about as it is.....
Dont get me wrong - I do find the whole concept of genetics rather fascinating. Imagine seeing all of that millions of bits of information from microscopic elements. Actually, even what companies like 23andMe are doing is mighty ground-breaking. From an interest and intellectual curiosity perspective, its an amazing break-through for science.
The only question I have is - are we necessarily going to be better-off with all that new information about ourselves?
~ "Decode your DNA", Thomas Goetz, Wired, December 2007
Apparently, now, for just a mere $1000, one can have a peek into one's genetic code (or genome), and instantly see not just where one came from in terms of genetics, but also where one is headed - also in terms of genetics. What this means to lay persons is that you can now see your genetic make-up, and your ancestors' genetic make-up, who in your ancestral lineage you are most like (so, for example, do you take up after your father's side of the family, or your mother's, etc) and what kind of gene codes you possess, in turn telling you what kind of risk you are at for countless number of physiological conditions, illnesses, and diseases.
This is a brand new industry - as a potential customer, you spit into a vial and the company (in this case, the name of the pioneering company is 23andMe) then scans your DNA, and it spits out your history and your future, which, some early testers and adapters have described as "simultaneously unsettling, illuminating and empowering". Apparently, this kind of "retail genomics" will help people adopt personalized medicine. So, knowing you are at 20% more risk for heart disease than the average individual because your maternal grandfather was at 40% more risk than the average individual and he, in all his blessed ignorance, has passed on that very particular gene marker onto you, his dear grandchild, will now mean that you really should not wait until you are 50 to go easy on the cholestrol intake. It means that you can start worrying about it NOW, and take preventive measures NOW.
How nice. Just what we needed, I think. More information overload.
But, the author of this most interesting article states - this thing should not so easily be dismissed. There is something in this, he claims. This is the first time in history, that such information is even available to the ordinary person. One can not just look backwards at one's lineage, but explore relationships with other ethnic groups around the world. Family members can share profiles, trace origins of particular traits and compare genes through DNA networking. Its just a new way for people to access information about themselves, he says.
And what is more fascinating, is that so far, only the surface has been scratched. The kind of information that 23andMe is capable of giving customers is based on sequencing only a small part of the entire human genome. In the near future, it is expected that the price of scrutinizing and sequencing a human's entire genome (some 6 billion or so pieces of information) will fall so drastically, that more personalized information will become available to whoever is eager to receive it.
I wonder though, whether this whole thing bodes well for us and our lifestyles. Sure, knowing that I am risk for some radical disease might be helpful if I dont absolutely know that any of my ancestors has ever had it. Or even a known disease for that matter. If I already know, for instance, that my paternal grandpa died of a heart-attack, and therefore I am by default at risk for it - and if my genome sequence (after I shell out $1000) confirms that I am at x% risk for heart disease - what am I going to do next? Am I going to worry that the general population is only (x-y)% at risk, unlike me? The bigger question is, am I going to alter the way I live because of this information? Am I going to ask my doctor to start treating me NOW, for conditions I might encounter in the future? How much am I going to worry about all of the new found information? Dont I have enough to worry about as it is.....
Dont get me wrong - I do find the whole concept of genetics rather fascinating. Imagine seeing all of that millions of bits of information from microscopic elements. Actually, even what companies like 23andMe are doing is mighty ground-breaking. From an interest and intellectual curiosity perspective, its an amazing break-through for science.
The only question I have is - are we necessarily going to be better-off with all that new information about ourselves?
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Mr. Sun's 4:00 'o' clock appearance
I am sitting in my cube, which happens to be a corner cube on the 7th floor of the building. So I am surrounded by huge sprawling windows on 2 sides outside my cube. Even though the heating system inside the building is doing its job well and it is warm, you can see how chilly it is outside, especially since I do have a pretty good view of the outside from where I sit.
Suddenly, the sun comes out. For whatever reason, it decides to shine quite brightly, and suddenly, golden rays filter through the expanse of glass, casting a warm glow through the space. Ummm...I can feel the warmth on my face as I turn to look outside. Its been cloudy the whole day, not to mention the near-freezing temperatures, and this sunny break is such a treat.
Ok, that was nice. Now, its back to work, I guess.
Suddenly, the sun comes out. For whatever reason, it decides to shine quite brightly, and suddenly, golden rays filter through the expanse of glass, casting a warm glow through the space. Ummm...I can feel the warmth on my face as I turn to look outside. Its been cloudy the whole day, not to mention the near-freezing temperatures, and this sunny break is such a treat.
Ok, that was nice. Now, its back to work, I guess.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Life and Death and Something in Between
An uncle who recently lost his wife to a rare and out-of-the-blue illness finds the strength to go about his daily life, be the father his young children now desperately need, and be the brilliant pediatrician his patients and the world in general needs. Thinking about how dark his private moments must be (in public and with people, he still finds his sense of humour, never betraying the sense of loss we all know he must be going through), I feel a restriction in my chest...and I question how one deals with such situations.
He himself presented the answer without being asked.
In a gathering of close family, he stood up, thanked everyone for coming and supporting him and his children, and then said something I will never ever forget. He said, "Here is my philosophy in life - I believe that pain is a given. But I also believe that suffering is our choice."
A good friend commented on one of my earlier posts on Faith - he said that maybe all that Faith is is an antidote to helplessness. Maybe so.
But maybe also, it is a lifeline that keeps you moving forward, when every single one of the chips is down.
He himself presented the answer without being asked.
In a gathering of close family, he stood up, thanked everyone for coming and supporting him and his children, and then said something I will never ever forget. He said, "Here is my philosophy in life - I believe that pain is a given. But I also believe that suffering is our choice."
A good friend commented on one of my earlier posts on Faith - he said that maybe all that Faith is is an antidote to helplessness. Maybe so.
But maybe also, it is a lifeline that keeps you moving forward, when every single one of the chips is down.
Ad for Thought
Was browsing through the latest edition of 'Wired' and found this full page Audi Ad. Accompanying a picture of a rather fabulous looking car (Audi R8) are these 2 statements:
1/2 Truth: Behind every status symbol and luxury badge is a good product.
Full Truth: Good is the enemy of great.
My thoughts? - So creative. So damn true.
:-)
1/2 Truth: Behind every status symbol and luxury badge is a good product.
Full Truth: Good is the enemy of great.
My thoughts? - So creative. So damn true.
:-)
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Princely Game This One...
It was back in the early 90's, when both G and I were teenagers (actually I was barely a teenager and G was 9 or 10) that a handsome young prince entered our lives. This prince was strong and brave. He was fearless, had blonde hair and rippling muscles. He was as athletic as ever and immensely intelligent to boot. He was the Prince of Persia. And he would go to absolutely any lengths to save his damsel in distress from the evil Sultan.
The only catch was that all the prince's actions were to be initiated and controlled by G and I, via 6 keys on the computer keyboard.
Think back to a time when there was no "Windows" (I know, its unthinkable!!). Really, that was a time when people did not even have PC's at home. And the only reason G and I had made such good friends with the Prince was thanks to our cousin, who taught Computers and had a spare PC at home, with the super-fantastic Prince of Persia loaded on it. So, whenever we would go visiting, G and I made an immediate beeline for the now archaic box, turned it on, and typed "Prince" at the command prompt. Yes, it was all DOS back then, think black screen...
What a game. What absolute fun it was, to get the Prince to cross barriers, fight prison guards, run through and dodge spiky prison bars, identify potions, poisons, etc etc...A set of obstacles would get him through to the subsequent higher level, where the challenges would be tougher. We had to learn along with the Prince. Each new level had absolutely new dangers that we initially had no idea how to solve. How many trials and errors there were...how many frustrations when Prince would be killed and we had to start all over...how many cheers and celebrations when Prince made it to higher and higher levels...each level taking him closer to that final level where he would have to fight the Sultan himself to save his fair maiden!!
What I remember with amazement is the precision graphics, animations and sound quality of the game. Given that it was entirely DOS based, and it was all in black and white (we didnt have the luxury of a colour monitor), it was really so incredibly well made. There was not a boring moment, as there were so many variables through each step that the Prince had to take.
Years later, we chanced upon a windows version of the classic game, and saw the usual zings and zangs of modern animation. Prince the game was all colourful and jazzed up with the latest in special effects. Somehow, the classic DOS version still pulled at our heart strings.
Just the other day, G and I were remembering the handsome Prince and all the little features of the game. We remembered how much fun we had, the evils the prince fought at each stage, the triumphs. We were both so glad that Prince in all his DOS version glory was a part of our childhood. We both wondered if we could get a chance to download that same black and white classic version once more.
Prince of Persia - a true blue classic.
The only catch was that all the prince's actions were to be initiated and controlled by G and I, via 6 keys on the computer keyboard.
Think back to a time when there was no "Windows" (I know, its unthinkable!!). Really, that was a time when people did not even have PC's at home. And the only reason G and I had made such good friends with the Prince was thanks to our cousin, who taught Computers and had a spare PC at home, with the super-fantastic Prince of Persia loaded on it. So, whenever we would go visiting, G and I made an immediate beeline for the now archaic box, turned it on, and typed "Prince" at the command prompt. Yes, it was all DOS back then, think black screen...
What a game. What absolute fun it was, to get the Prince to cross barriers, fight prison guards, run through and dodge spiky prison bars, identify potions, poisons, etc etc...A set of obstacles would get him through to the subsequent higher level, where the challenges would be tougher. We had to learn along with the Prince. Each new level had absolutely new dangers that we initially had no idea how to solve. How many trials and errors there were...how many frustrations when Prince would be killed and we had to start all over...how many cheers and celebrations when Prince made it to higher and higher levels...each level taking him closer to that final level where he would have to fight the Sultan himself to save his fair maiden!!
What I remember with amazement is the precision graphics, animations and sound quality of the game. Given that it was entirely DOS based, and it was all in black and white (we didnt have the luxury of a colour monitor), it was really so incredibly well made. There was not a boring moment, as there were so many variables through each step that the Prince had to take.
Years later, we chanced upon a windows version of the classic game, and saw the usual zings and zangs of modern animation. Prince the game was all colourful and jazzed up with the latest in special effects. Somehow, the classic DOS version still pulled at our heart strings.
Just the other day, G and I were remembering the handsome Prince and all the little features of the game. We remembered how much fun we had, the evils the prince fought at each stage, the triumphs. We were both so glad that Prince in all his DOS version glory was a part of our childhood. We both wondered if we could get a chance to download that same black and white classic version once more.
Prince of Persia - a true blue classic.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Country Roads
As I drove through the country-side in South Canara (where I am from originally), I looked on appreciatively at the scenery around me - where there was no road, there were palm trees. Bunches of coconuts hang on these trees - with the sweetest of water and even sweeter soft white flesh that almost melts in the mouth waiting to be consumed. The coconut itself finds its way into innumerable South Canara dishes.
Tiny houses with sloped tiled roofs dot the expanse of palm trees. Many of these houses are on the edges of patches of paddy fields. These paddy fields are a visual treat - beautifully green (especially now, just after the monsoons) and extend across the country-side with little bunds separating different farmers' fields.
Occasionally, we drive past fields and suddenly we are on a bridge, crossing a river that is sure to be one of the myriad tributaries that eventually flow into the Kaveri, Krishna or Tungabhadra.
Sahasthana - beautiful as the above was to see all along the way, I was spell-bound when we reached a place called Sahasthana. Here, there is a large river that extends for almost half a kilometer in width. As we crossed the bridge, the early morning sun shimmered on the surface of the river, giving it an ethereal quality. There were a few islands in the middle of the river. Several boatmen (these are tiny boats with a couple of men rowing with wooden oars) dotted the river here and there, spreading their nets out from their boats. I could not get enough of the untouched beauty of the place. Once again I regretted not being good with my camera to capture the scene.
I rolled down the windows and took a deep breath of that coastal air that I so vividly associate with all my trips to Mangalore. Sahasthana is a fantastic testament to the untouched beauty of rural India. I sincerely hope it will stay that way for a long, long time.
Tiny houses with sloped tiled roofs dot the expanse of palm trees. Many of these houses are on the edges of patches of paddy fields. These paddy fields are a visual treat - beautifully green (especially now, just after the monsoons) and extend across the country-side with little bunds separating different farmers' fields.
Occasionally, we drive past fields and suddenly we are on a bridge, crossing a river that is sure to be one of the myriad tributaries that eventually flow into the Kaveri, Krishna or Tungabhadra.
Sahasthana - beautiful as the above was to see all along the way, I was spell-bound when we reached a place called Sahasthana. Here, there is a large river that extends for almost half a kilometer in width. As we crossed the bridge, the early morning sun shimmered on the surface of the river, giving it an ethereal quality. There were a few islands in the middle of the river. Several boatmen (these are tiny boats with a couple of men rowing with wooden oars) dotted the river here and there, spreading their nets out from their boats. I could not get enough of the untouched beauty of the place. Once again I regretted not being good with my camera to capture the scene.
I rolled down the windows and took a deep breath of that coastal air that I so vividly associate with all my trips to Mangalore. Sahasthana is a fantastic testament to the untouched beauty of rural India. I sincerely hope it will stay that way for a long, long time.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Faith
What is faith? I ask this question to myself from time to time, and usually either ponder for a while and give up, or find some explanation to satisfy myself temporarily. But I keep coming back to it...and often I do so when I see people in adversity find the strength and the philosophy to get through their trials. When my own mind grapples with difficult issues and questions, or I am just disturbed for whatever reason, I wonder what it takes to believe, actually believe that it shall be okay.
Can faith heal anything? Can it aleviate pain? How do you go about acquiring faith? More importantly, faith in what? God? Karma? Some higher power? The irrevocable plan of destiny? Inner strength?
Some of us believe that a combination of random events and the choices and decisions we make along the way shape our life as we know it, but I have also come to believe that it is important to have faith, in whatever form or shape.
Human beings have been known to do amazing things because of their faith. How do people get their faith? Some people pray incessantly to their God. Some people make temple visits, bodily and physical offerings to their God. Some people meditate, train their mind to help the process. Some people believe that social service and serving their fellow human beings in need is the answer.
Even though I still struggle with the question of what form faith should take for me personally, it is because of the very faith I have that I will find it eventually, that makes it worthwhile to even try.
Can faith heal anything? Can it aleviate pain? How do you go about acquiring faith? More importantly, faith in what? God? Karma? Some higher power? The irrevocable plan of destiny? Inner strength?
Some of us believe that a combination of random events and the choices and decisions we make along the way shape our life as we know it, but I have also come to believe that it is important to have faith, in whatever form or shape.
Human beings have been known to do amazing things because of their faith. How do people get their faith? Some people pray incessantly to their God. Some people make temple visits, bodily and physical offerings to their God. Some people meditate, train their mind to help the process. Some people believe that social service and serving their fellow human beings in need is the answer.
Even though I still struggle with the question of what form faith should take for me personally, it is because of the very faith I have that I will find it eventually, that makes it worthwhile to even try.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
The Breeze from the Sea
This is a short story that I wrote a few years ago. It is a sad story, and I do not believe that anything in particular inspired me to write it. I just had an idea one day, and in a fit of inspiration, I penned it down...
The Breeze from the Sea
The breeze blew in from the sea. The sun was almost below the horizon. The sand beneath us was still warm. Ram sat there quietly next to me. I didn’t quite know what he was thinking…I was afraid to ask…I looked over at the horizon. A few boats were still at sea, no doubt attempting to catch a last batch of fish before returning home…I looked over to the far side of the beach at the few children who were playing in the twilight…the familiar grief engulfed my heart once again…I looked at Ram…if only I knew what he was thinking…
Children playing…a bat, and a ball and makeshift wickets from tree branches…Suraj played the game with all the ferocity of every Indian boy obsessed with the ideology, the religion that is cricket…Suraj, who went on to captain his school and college cricket teams, and who almost made it through the state team selections…I remember how disappointed he was when he didn’t qualify…Suraj, who then channeled his energy into academics instead, and who graduated with honors and won a scholarship to a prestigious university in the UK…Suraj, who wrote a letter titled “Dearest Amma…” every week without fail…Suraj, who never could really understand the rift that grew between Ram and me as the years passed….I was busy with my teaching career, and Ram moved from job to job…often disgruntled with life, dissatisfied and cynical…my growing discontent with him…the love, and understanding we once shared seemed to be fading away…I thought of him as an inadequate husband, and an inadequate father…
I immersed myself in my work…that and my son were the only important things in my life.
Soon, I didn’t even have anything to say to Ram anymore…and I moved to my sister’s place. He didn’t stop me. I missed Suraj terribly, but he had just been hired by a big multinational firm, and could not take the time off to come to India. I pined for him. Life was lonely, but at least I had my work. I still got a letter every single week…until…that fateful, horrible day when Ram came to fetch me from my school…I just knew that something terrible had happened…they explained to me that it was a freak motor accident, involving an oil tanker. I didn’t want the details. I asked God a million times to take me away too. I could not eat, could not sleep, could not work. I met no one, spoke to no one…
I was more than surprised to see Ram at my sister’s gate that evening, and inwardly shocked but detached when he asked whether we could walk to the beach…I had not spoken to him since the accident…I did not know what to say to him…
We walked in total silence for a long time. Finally, we sat down on the warm sand to watch the sun go down. Suraj loved the beach as a child. He would build sand castles, and play in the waves, and run around looking for crabs and shells…
A cool breeze blew in from the sea. The setting sun lent its brilliant colors to the evening sky. Ram was quiet beside me. I looked at him. I suddenly thought to myself…here is the man I once loved and cherished, the man who helped bring Suraj into this world…here is the man I put below every other priority in life for so long…suddenly the reasons for all of that were not important any more…suddenly, the grief that held me captive eased just a little bit…suddenly I knew that Ram and I at least had each other…
Wordlessly I reached for his hand. He grasped it so tightly, it almost hurt. In the distance, a dog and a child played together. The waves lapped gently against the sand. The sun was down for the day. The fishing boats were back now. Together we stood up, dusting the sand from our clothes. I turned to say something to him…to explain, to apologize, to share my grief, to ask him to share his…but I could not say anything…not just yet…
In the cool of the evening breeze, Ram looked at me, still holding my hand, and said simply, “Come, let us go home…”
The Breeze from the Sea
The breeze blew in from the sea. The sun was almost below the horizon. The sand beneath us was still warm. Ram sat there quietly next to me. I didn’t quite know what he was thinking…I was afraid to ask…I looked over at the horizon. A few boats were still at sea, no doubt attempting to catch a last batch of fish before returning home…I looked over to the far side of the beach at the few children who were playing in the twilight…the familiar grief engulfed my heart once again…I looked at Ram…if only I knew what he was thinking…
Children playing…a bat, and a ball and makeshift wickets from tree branches…Suraj played the game with all the ferocity of every Indian boy obsessed with the ideology, the religion that is cricket…Suraj, who went on to captain his school and college cricket teams, and who almost made it through the state team selections…I remember how disappointed he was when he didn’t qualify…Suraj, who then channeled his energy into academics instead, and who graduated with honors and won a scholarship to a prestigious university in the UK…Suraj, who wrote a letter titled “Dearest Amma…” every week without fail…Suraj, who never could really understand the rift that grew between Ram and me as the years passed….I was busy with my teaching career, and Ram moved from job to job…often disgruntled with life, dissatisfied and cynical…my growing discontent with him…the love, and understanding we once shared seemed to be fading away…I thought of him as an inadequate husband, and an inadequate father…
I immersed myself in my work…that and my son were the only important things in my life.
Soon, I didn’t even have anything to say to Ram anymore…and I moved to my sister’s place. He didn’t stop me. I missed Suraj terribly, but he had just been hired by a big multinational firm, and could not take the time off to come to India. I pined for him. Life was lonely, but at least I had my work. I still got a letter every single week…until…that fateful, horrible day when Ram came to fetch me from my school…I just knew that something terrible had happened…they explained to me that it was a freak motor accident, involving an oil tanker. I didn’t want the details. I asked God a million times to take me away too. I could not eat, could not sleep, could not work. I met no one, spoke to no one…
I was more than surprised to see Ram at my sister’s gate that evening, and inwardly shocked but detached when he asked whether we could walk to the beach…I had not spoken to him since the accident…I did not know what to say to him…
We walked in total silence for a long time. Finally, we sat down on the warm sand to watch the sun go down. Suraj loved the beach as a child. He would build sand castles, and play in the waves, and run around looking for crabs and shells…
A cool breeze blew in from the sea. The setting sun lent its brilliant colors to the evening sky. Ram was quiet beside me. I looked at him. I suddenly thought to myself…here is the man I once loved and cherished, the man who helped bring Suraj into this world…here is the man I put below every other priority in life for so long…suddenly the reasons for all of that were not important any more…suddenly, the grief that held me captive eased just a little bit…suddenly I knew that Ram and I at least had each other…
Wordlessly I reached for his hand. He grasped it so tightly, it almost hurt. In the distance, a dog and a child played together. The waves lapped gently against the sand. The sun was down for the day. The fishing boats were back now. Together we stood up, dusting the sand from our clothes. I turned to say something to him…to explain, to apologize, to share my grief, to ask him to share his…but I could not say anything…not just yet…
In the cool of the evening breeze, Ram looked at me, still holding my hand, and said simply, “Come, let us go home…”
Sunday, October 21, 2007
It's All Fall(ing) Down
Sometime around Tuesday or Wednesday of last week, a switch went off. As I drove my car out of the garage on my way to work, I almost braked to a screeching halt. Suddenly, there was a splash of Fall colours all OVER the place. Autumn had announced its arrival. Trees that were green previously were now covered in colourful foliage. There were Reds, Oranges and Yellows...and a zillion colours in-between. The resulting effect is a treat to the eyes. You dont know where to look because each tree with its brilliant colour lends itself to the tree next to it which is a totally different colour. Such a visual treat. There is more to come, I believe. Now, there are still greens here and there. In a week or two, it will all be replaced by brilliant reds, oranges and yellows.
It is unbelievable that in a month or so, all of these leaves will have fallen down to make way for the wintery snow. And then a couple of months after that will come spring, and there will be flowers on all the trees. And a couple of months from there, everything will be green once more. The cycle of nature. The circle of life. We are truly blessed to be a part of it.
It is unbelievable that in a month or so, all of these leaves will have fallen down to make way for the wintery snow. And then a couple of months after that will come spring, and there will be flowers on all the trees. And a couple of months from there, everything will be green once more. The cycle of nature. The circle of life. We are truly blessed to be a part of it.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Horsing Around
Venue: Verizon Center in the heart of Washington DC
Event: Washington International Horse Show
Watching the equestrian event from Capital One's executive suite sure felt like a novelty. Free food and drinks, comfortable leather seats and a bird's eye view of the happennings in the arena below felt nice. Soon enough, out came the lovely horses, so fabulously groomed, ridden by their jockey riders.
First the kids rode their horses somewhat tentaively over the hurdles. Some horses made the vaults beautifully, and some were a little nervous. Finally the winner in this category was announced.
The next event was a surprise and a complete delight. Terrier Racing! Suddenly there were 20 or so terrier dogs being led into the arena on leashes and the dogs were just going nuts! Not sure if it was the crowds that were cheering that made them so hyper or whether they were fed something just before they were brought out, but they were barking their heads off and raring to be let off their leashes and run all over the place. Hyper!
Soon enough, obstacles were set up and an artificial tail (that represented a fox tail) and attached to a string was dangled temptingly in front of the dogs, and used as the incentive for the race. And what a race it was! Those dogs are FAST, and hyper and hell-bent on catching the fox (little do they know its only a tail)!! All in all, the races were funny to watch, and the dogs were cute.
The dogs may have been cute, but it was the horses that stole the show. With their breath taking beauty. Such fabulous animals, I tell you. So graceful and strong and a pleasure to watch. I would have loved to have come in close contact, touch them, maybe attempt a ride myself? :) But I had to be content with just watching another one of the equestrian rounds, with the horses and their adult riders this time vaulting over fairly high obstacles in the graceful manner that is also somewhat hypnotic to watch.
Like I said, tickets in the executive suite courtesy Capital One felt nice. Now if only I can get hold of some to a basketball game. Now wouldnt that be fun?!
An evening of watching horses was followed by dinner at Tabaq's, a cozy roof-top mediterranean bistro. A cool breeze, candle-light and a pretty good view of the city (we could see the lit Washington Monument, Capitol Building, etc) made for an excellent evening.
Event: Washington International Horse Show
Watching the equestrian event from Capital One's executive suite sure felt like a novelty. Free food and drinks, comfortable leather seats and a bird's eye view of the happennings in the arena below felt nice. Soon enough, out came the lovely horses, so fabulously groomed, ridden by their jockey riders.
First the kids rode their horses somewhat tentaively over the hurdles. Some horses made the vaults beautifully, and some were a little nervous. Finally the winner in this category was announced.
The next event was a surprise and a complete delight. Terrier Racing! Suddenly there were 20 or so terrier dogs being led into the arena on leashes and the dogs were just going nuts! Not sure if it was the crowds that were cheering that made them so hyper or whether they were fed something just before they were brought out, but they were barking their heads off and raring to be let off their leashes and run all over the place. Hyper!
Soon enough, obstacles were set up and an artificial tail (that represented a fox tail) and attached to a string was dangled temptingly in front of the dogs, and used as the incentive for the race. And what a race it was! Those dogs are FAST, and hyper and hell-bent on catching the fox (little do they know its only a tail)!! All in all, the races were funny to watch, and the dogs were cute.
The dogs may have been cute, but it was the horses that stole the show. With their breath taking beauty. Such fabulous animals, I tell you. So graceful and strong and a pleasure to watch. I would have loved to have come in close contact, touch them, maybe attempt a ride myself? :) But I had to be content with just watching another one of the equestrian rounds, with the horses and their adult riders this time vaulting over fairly high obstacles in the graceful manner that is also somewhat hypnotic to watch.
Like I said, tickets in the executive suite courtesy Capital One felt nice. Now if only I can get hold of some to a basketball game. Now wouldnt that be fun?!
An evening of watching horses was followed by dinner at Tabaq's, a cozy roof-top mediterranean bistro. A cool breeze, candle-light and a pretty good view of the city (we could see the lit Washington Monument, Capitol Building, etc) made for an excellent evening.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Watching What You Eat
It may be because of the inescapable fact that age plays an increasingly significant role in the health equation as years go by. It may be because of the increased awareness I have lately of both my mind and my body. It may be because I have finally realized that in that same health equation I allude to, diet and exercise are so inextricably intertwined, that it doesnt matter how much you work out until you also get your diet in order and it doesnt matter how much you diet until you also engage in a consistent, holistic exercise program.
The bottom line is that I can finally vouch for the fact that I can almost completely control my well-ness by eating right.
The reason I am getting particularly vocal about this is that, strangely enough, of late, I have been able to observe almost immediate reactions of my body to what I consume. Without getting into the details of exactly what I observe (lest the reader is turned off partially or completely!), I see reactions to what I eat, mostly within a couple of days at least. And if the results are negative, I kick myself for giving in to temptation (these are usually in the chocolate/desert category - I find them irresisitible), or too much sodium/preservatives/grease/oil/extra spicy food which comes mostly from eating out.
On the flip and more positive side - eating well also lets me see tangible benefits, although these are not always that pronounced, takes longer to observe and worst of all - takes more attempts to observe the benefits. To explain - it takes only one or two rich dessert indulgences to see an extra pound or two, some blotchy skin, and unwanted digestive effects almost within a couple of days of consumption, whereas - it takes much, much longer bouts of eating a balanced diet with fruits/veggies/fiber/protein/carb (and this also ensures the required and healthy supply of vitamins and minerals our body needs) to start seeing the good effects. BUT, when I DO start seeing them, its an incredibly amazing feeling. I feel great, energetic, and healthy. My skin glows and the tiredness around my eyes disappears, and my mind, seeing and feeling these positive effects, also feels well. Of course, all of this, coupled with my consistent Yoga and gym sessions leads to an overall sense of extreme well being. Doesnt get better. All of this is unbelievably beneficial when work related stress is also playing its part in the equation.
I read somewhere a long time ago that the habits we cultivate in our early to mid twenties are the ones that end up lasting through the rest of our lives. Given I am no longer in my early or mid twenties, I am at least thankful I am almost obsessing about this issue now. I am determined to do my part in ensuring a healthy life for me and my family. I have no doubt about it - I am what I eat.
As they say at Kaiser Permanente - Live well, be well, thrive. Should apply to each one of us, methinks.
The bottom line is that I can finally vouch for the fact that I can almost completely control my well-ness by eating right.
The reason I am getting particularly vocal about this is that, strangely enough, of late, I have been able to observe almost immediate reactions of my body to what I consume. Without getting into the details of exactly what I observe (lest the reader is turned off partially or completely!), I see reactions to what I eat, mostly within a couple of days at least. And if the results are negative, I kick myself for giving in to temptation (these are usually in the chocolate/desert category - I find them irresisitible), or too much sodium/preservatives/grease/oil/extra spicy food which comes mostly from eating out.
On the flip and more positive side - eating well also lets me see tangible benefits, although these are not always that pronounced, takes longer to observe and worst of all - takes more attempts to observe the benefits. To explain - it takes only one or two rich dessert indulgences to see an extra pound or two, some blotchy skin, and unwanted digestive effects almost within a couple of days of consumption, whereas - it takes much, much longer bouts of eating a balanced diet with fruits/veggies/fiber/protein/carb (and this also ensures the required and healthy supply of vitamins and minerals our body needs) to start seeing the good effects. BUT, when I DO start seeing them, its an incredibly amazing feeling. I feel great, energetic, and healthy. My skin glows and the tiredness around my eyes disappears, and my mind, seeing and feeling these positive effects, also feels well. Of course, all of this, coupled with my consistent Yoga and gym sessions leads to an overall sense of extreme well being. Doesnt get better. All of this is unbelievably beneficial when work related stress is also playing its part in the equation.
I read somewhere a long time ago that the habits we cultivate in our early to mid twenties are the ones that end up lasting through the rest of our lives. Given I am no longer in my early or mid twenties, I am at least thankful I am almost obsessing about this issue now. I am determined to do my part in ensuring a healthy life for me and my family. I have no doubt about it - I am what I eat.
As they say at Kaiser Permanente - Live well, be well, thrive. Should apply to each one of us, methinks.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
New York New York
Went up to the Big Apple recently, and as usual, the city proved to be an exciting weekend getaway. The energy of the place is so unique and motivates you to get up, get out and make the most of it. At the end of the day, I know I want to return to my suburban life, plenty of walking/jogging/breathing space, place to park my car, quiet and solitude, but ever so often...NYC is a fantastic place to go to and have some fun. Of course, what makes it more worthwhile is catching up with our good friends, A & R...always feels great to meet up with old friends and chill out.
This time, all four of us caught a couple of interesting events. One was an evening of Sitar by Ustaad Raais Khan. Well, actually it was A and I who spearheaded the idea (what with being Hindustani vocalists and all that), and R and P, being the good sports that they are, tagged along. What we thought would be an evening of a reknowned Ustaad performing ended up being an evening of the Ustaad performing to some extent and then making his son perform the rest of the time. Now this son was a real joker who clearly was not in the same league as his dad, and started displaying major attention seeking gimmicks (he obviously thought that he was loaded with talent) and pretty soon we started getting pissed that the Ustaad was not playing and that the son was. What made it outright unbearable was the jugalbhandi's or duet performances in which the son clearly was playing near nonsense and was completely shadowing any talent that the father was inclined to portray. If you think I am exaggerating, get this - after a while the Ustaad himself realized how much the son was hurting the show, and would tell him to stop playing while he attempted to salvage the situation with some brilliance of his own. Even then, the son would not give up and would make every attempt to join in the middle at which point the Ustaad would angrily slap his hand trying to make him stop. By this point our disappointment and anger at the son turned into being totally entertained and we could barely keep from laughing conspicously. In any case, we got what we wanted and more - an evening of Hindustani music and a comedy show all rolled in one!!
The other event we caught was on Broadway. Now, this is my second Broadway show and I am more impressed each time. Its just fantastic. I used to be a fan of the theatre in Bangalore and have caught many plays even in Los Angeles and Washington DC. But they are just not in the league of Broadway. The show we had tickets for was 'Tarzan'. Well, the story itself would be what we knew it would be...but we were totally unprepared for the special effects, the costumes, the lighting effects, the acrobatics, and the choreography. The whole show highlights the senses, and involves the audience (with actors coming in and out from all over the auditorium). Imagine this - in one scene, the wall at the back of the stage was used like it was the floor, and the actors were performing while being strung on cables obviously and to us the audience it was like we were viewing them from the top....what an amazing effect. It is a holistic sensory delight - the sights and sounds are brilliant...the use of props and special effects can bring in vivid scenes from anywhere onto a stage a few feet in square footage.
Two years ago when I caught 'Hairspray' - also with A and R, I was amazed. 'Tarzan' was different, but equally brilliant. I would highly recommend Broadway to anyone.
This time, all four of us caught a couple of interesting events. One was an evening of Sitar by Ustaad Raais Khan. Well, actually it was A and I who spearheaded the idea (what with being Hindustani vocalists and all that), and R and P, being the good sports that they are, tagged along. What we thought would be an evening of a reknowned Ustaad performing ended up being an evening of the Ustaad performing to some extent and then making his son perform the rest of the time. Now this son was a real joker who clearly was not in the same league as his dad, and started displaying major attention seeking gimmicks (he obviously thought that he was loaded with talent) and pretty soon we started getting pissed that the Ustaad was not playing and that the son was. What made it outright unbearable was the jugalbhandi's or duet performances in which the son clearly was playing near nonsense and was completely shadowing any talent that the father was inclined to portray. If you think I am exaggerating, get this - after a while the Ustaad himself realized how much the son was hurting the show, and would tell him to stop playing while he attempted to salvage the situation with some brilliance of his own. Even then, the son would not give up and would make every attempt to join in the middle at which point the Ustaad would angrily slap his hand trying to make him stop. By this point our disappointment and anger at the son turned into being totally entertained and we could barely keep from laughing conspicously. In any case, we got what we wanted and more - an evening of Hindustani music and a comedy show all rolled in one!!
The other event we caught was on Broadway. Now, this is my second Broadway show and I am more impressed each time. Its just fantastic. I used to be a fan of the theatre in Bangalore and have caught many plays even in Los Angeles and Washington DC. But they are just not in the league of Broadway. The show we had tickets for was 'Tarzan'. Well, the story itself would be what we knew it would be...but we were totally unprepared for the special effects, the costumes, the lighting effects, the acrobatics, and the choreography. The whole show highlights the senses, and involves the audience (with actors coming in and out from all over the auditorium). Imagine this - in one scene, the wall at the back of the stage was used like it was the floor, and the actors were performing while being strung on cables obviously and to us the audience it was like we were viewing them from the top....what an amazing effect. It is a holistic sensory delight - the sights and sounds are brilliant...the use of props and special effects can bring in vivid scenes from anywhere onto a stage a few feet in square footage.
Two years ago when I caught 'Hairspray' - also with A and R, I was amazed. 'Tarzan' was different, but equally brilliant. I would highly recommend Broadway to anyone.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Five days on an island
The plane looked like it was going to land right in the turquoise water but at the last minute there came in sight a tiny landing strip out of nowhere. We had landed on St. Thomas, and we had left behind intense work weeks, stress and the regular regular and were looking forward to five days on an island.
St. Thomas is one of three US Virgin Islands (St. John and St. Croix are the other two), and it is 13 miles long and 7 miles wide. It is very hilly and the roads are very windy and narrow (2 lanes only), and it is surrounded by the Caribbean Sea on one side and the Atlantic Ocean on the other. Nearby are the British Virgin Islands. At any spot on the island either at an elevation or within reasonable distance from the shore, the views are absolutely breath-taking, and as we drove our rental car from the airport to the condo we were renting for the 5 days, we came across views that were stunningly beautiful.
The island, although a part of the US, has a completely unique flavour of its own. The people are a mix of whites (from the US, Europe, etc) and people of African origin (whose ancestors had originally been brought to the island as slaves by the early Danish settlers on the island, to work in the sugarcane plantations.) And then there are tourists such as ourselves. The islanders have a cute caribbean accent and using the word 'laid-back' to define them would be an understatement. They move slowly, they talk slowly, they answer questions slowly, and would rather have a siesta any time of the day than do anything else really. Well, in any case, we were all set to enjoy our time, unwind and soak up some Caribbean fun.
The beaches of St. Thomas
There are many, many beaches on St. Thomas and most of them are pretty spectacular. The condo we were staying in had a fantastic view from the balcony, and we were privy to blue blue seas, a beautiful beach (Sapphire Bay Beach), a marina which docked boats, and islands in the distance, tiny ones dotting the blue Caribbean surface as well as St. John.
One morning we drove to Magen's Bay Beach, which, according to National Geographic, ranks as one of the ten most beautiful beaches in the world. And it was. Absolutely amazing. Picture this - white sand, aquamarine waters, no rocks, no waves (this is at least partly due to the beach being surrounded by land pieces jutting out into the ocean on two sides, forming a bay, or large cove, and because of this, the beach is like a giant swimming pool, with very calm, serene water. Ideal for splashing and swimming around. And we could not get enough of the views.
Keep to the Left!!
We laughed when the car rental official, our condo owner and other literature warned us to drive on the LEFT side of the road. Of course, we would drive on the left side...come on, what are we..imbeciles who dont understand what that means? Well, we rented our car and took off, driving across the island towards our condo. All the roads on the island are just two lanes, and very windy, going up and down hills. Takes a bit of concentration, especially the first time. So, we were navigating between maps and hilly, windy roads...and made a wrong turn. Realizing this, we stopped the car, and decided to mae a U-turn. Having made the U-turn, we found ourselves on the right side of the road, and it didnt feel wrong. In the next instant, a car was hurtling towards us in our lane, and at the last possible instant, reflexes of both drivers averted what would have been a scary and a totally unwanted start to our vacation. Phwew!
Hiking on St. John
On another day, we took a ferry from the town of Red Hook to the island of St. John, which is less inhabited and more untouched than St. Thomas. Here, our plan was to hike down the Reef Run trail, which is a famous trail through the tropical forest of St. John, which housed many of the sugarcane plantations a few hundred years ago, trek all the way down to an abandoned sugar mill, and finally end up on the beach, and then hike back up. To get to the point where the trail starts, is about 4 miles from where our ferry docked. We found an eager taxi driver who offered to take us up there. As he is driving up the winding roads, suddenly he stops right in the middle of the road, gets out, crosses the street to a dumpster, removes a cardboard box, brings it back to the taxi and places it under a seat and gets back into the driver seat and drives on. And we were wondering what the hell just happened. We concluded that we just dont understand these islanders and their eccentricities. :)
We hiked down Reef run trail, and saw abandoned slave quarters, myriad tropical trees and plants along the way, and petroglyphs (carvings in stone made by the Tainos, the very first inhabitants of the Virgin Islands who came up from South America on barges made from tree trunks, some 700 miles in the Caribbean ocean with no navigation aids - sometime around 700 B.C.) Amazing.
Charlotte Amalie
On another day, we drove into Charlotte Amalie and the historic downtown district of St. Thomas. The town itself has been pretty well preserved to give tourists a sense of history, old buildings kept the way they are, etc...and this, with the fabulous views (which are somewhat strangely accentuated by the humungus cruise ships that dock near the harbour), makes for a very good morning of touristy stuff....even though the day is incredibly hot, and within an hour of walking around with the tour guide, we are dripping with perspiration. Some shopping (St. Thomas is duty and tax free!), and lunch in a very darling little local cafe and we drive back to our quiet little end of the island.
Birds in the Sky
On the last day, we drove to Coki Beach, and signed up for parasailing. Within an hour, we were being given instructions and life-jackets. Pretty soon, the boat we were on was in the middle of the ocean, and we found ourselves standing at the edge, all ready to be released into the air. Above us was the huge colourful balloon, that would assist in buoying us up into the air. One, two and THREE - zzzzziiiiiiiiiiiiiiippppppp....the boatman released the cord, and the balloon took off into the sky, and because we were strapped in it, we took off as well......a moment's sheer exhilaration soon gave way to wonderment, as we were being lifted higher and higher up, thanks to more cord being released by the boatman way below and the soaring balloon above us....soon we were 300 metres up in the sky, and the boat was a tiny speck in the ocean below us....what a FANTASTIC view!!!!!!!!! The blue caribbean all around us, but also the myriad islands dotting it....we could see miles and miles around us....suddenly I looked directly below me and I saw that we were above a coral reef near the surface of the ocean....and guess what?!! We actually saw a turtle swimming around in it....it looked so awesome! After a few minutes, we started descending and realized that our trip in the sky was coming to an end...but it was so well worth it!!
When we left St. Thomas at the end of the fifth day...it felt like we knew the island so well....and the memory of its gorgeous beauty will be with me forever...
St. Thomas is one of three US Virgin Islands (St. John and St. Croix are the other two), and it is 13 miles long and 7 miles wide. It is very hilly and the roads are very windy and narrow (2 lanes only), and it is surrounded by the Caribbean Sea on one side and the Atlantic Ocean on the other. Nearby are the British Virgin Islands. At any spot on the island either at an elevation or within reasonable distance from the shore, the views are absolutely breath-taking, and as we drove our rental car from the airport to the condo we were renting for the 5 days, we came across views that were stunningly beautiful.
The island, although a part of the US, has a completely unique flavour of its own. The people are a mix of whites (from the US, Europe, etc) and people of African origin (whose ancestors had originally been brought to the island as slaves by the early Danish settlers on the island, to work in the sugarcane plantations.) And then there are tourists such as ourselves. The islanders have a cute caribbean accent and using the word 'laid-back' to define them would be an understatement. They move slowly, they talk slowly, they answer questions slowly, and would rather have a siesta any time of the day than do anything else really. Well, in any case, we were all set to enjoy our time, unwind and soak up some Caribbean fun.
The beaches of St. Thomas
There are many, many beaches on St. Thomas and most of them are pretty spectacular. The condo we were staying in had a fantastic view from the balcony, and we were privy to blue blue seas, a beautiful beach (Sapphire Bay Beach), a marina which docked boats, and islands in the distance, tiny ones dotting the blue Caribbean surface as well as St. John.
One morning we drove to Magen's Bay Beach, which, according to National Geographic, ranks as one of the ten most beautiful beaches in the world. And it was. Absolutely amazing. Picture this - white sand, aquamarine waters, no rocks, no waves (this is at least partly due to the beach being surrounded by land pieces jutting out into the ocean on two sides, forming a bay, or large cove, and because of this, the beach is like a giant swimming pool, with very calm, serene water. Ideal for splashing and swimming around. And we could not get enough of the views.
Keep to the Left!!
We laughed when the car rental official, our condo owner and other literature warned us to drive on the LEFT side of the road. Of course, we would drive on the left side...come on, what are we..imbeciles who dont understand what that means? Well, we rented our car and took off, driving across the island towards our condo. All the roads on the island are just two lanes, and very windy, going up and down hills. Takes a bit of concentration, especially the first time. So, we were navigating between maps and hilly, windy roads...and made a wrong turn. Realizing this, we stopped the car, and decided to mae a U-turn. Having made the U-turn, we found ourselves on the right side of the road, and it didnt feel wrong. In the next instant, a car was hurtling towards us in our lane, and at the last possible instant, reflexes of both drivers averted what would have been a scary and a totally unwanted start to our vacation. Phwew!
Hiking on St. John
On another day, we took a ferry from the town of Red Hook to the island of St. John, which is less inhabited and more untouched than St. Thomas. Here, our plan was to hike down the Reef Run trail, which is a famous trail through the tropical forest of St. John, which housed many of the sugarcane plantations a few hundred years ago, trek all the way down to an abandoned sugar mill, and finally end up on the beach, and then hike back up. To get to the point where the trail starts, is about 4 miles from where our ferry docked. We found an eager taxi driver who offered to take us up there. As he is driving up the winding roads, suddenly he stops right in the middle of the road, gets out, crosses the street to a dumpster, removes a cardboard box, brings it back to the taxi and places it under a seat and gets back into the driver seat and drives on. And we were wondering what the hell just happened. We concluded that we just dont understand these islanders and their eccentricities. :)
We hiked down Reef run trail, and saw abandoned slave quarters, myriad tropical trees and plants along the way, and petroglyphs (carvings in stone made by the Tainos, the very first inhabitants of the Virgin Islands who came up from South America on barges made from tree trunks, some 700 miles in the Caribbean ocean with no navigation aids - sometime around 700 B.C.) Amazing.
Charlotte Amalie
On another day, we drove into Charlotte Amalie and the historic downtown district of St. Thomas. The town itself has been pretty well preserved to give tourists a sense of history, old buildings kept the way they are, etc...and this, with the fabulous views (which are somewhat strangely accentuated by the humungus cruise ships that dock near the harbour), makes for a very good morning of touristy stuff....even though the day is incredibly hot, and within an hour of walking around with the tour guide, we are dripping with perspiration. Some shopping (St. Thomas is duty and tax free!), and lunch in a very darling little local cafe and we drive back to our quiet little end of the island.
Birds in the Sky
On the last day, we drove to Coki Beach, and signed up for parasailing. Within an hour, we were being given instructions and life-jackets. Pretty soon, the boat we were on was in the middle of the ocean, and we found ourselves standing at the edge, all ready to be released into the air. Above us was the huge colourful balloon, that would assist in buoying us up into the air. One, two and THREE - zzzzziiiiiiiiiiiiiiippppppp....the boatman released the cord, and the balloon took off into the sky, and because we were strapped in it, we took off as well......a moment's sheer exhilaration soon gave way to wonderment, as we were being lifted higher and higher up, thanks to more cord being released by the boatman way below and the soaring balloon above us....soon we were 300 metres up in the sky, and the boat was a tiny speck in the ocean below us....what a FANTASTIC view!!!!!!!!! The blue caribbean all around us, but also the myriad islands dotting it....we could see miles and miles around us....suddenly I looked directly below me and I saw that we were above a coral reef near the surface of the ocean....and guess what?!! We actually saw a turtle swimming around in it....it looked so awesome! After a few minutes, we started descending and realized that our trip in the sky was coming to an end...but it was so well worth it!!
When we left St. Thomas at the end of the fifth day...it felt like we knew the island so well....and the memory of its gorgeous beauty will be with me forever...
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Softie
The other day I was talking to a friend, and somehow the conversation landed on the subject of Softie icecreams. Immediately I was transported back in time in my mind - back oh, about 10- 15 years, when there used to be a special machine in a special cart on MG Road and Brigade road, with the cart-wallah selling softie icecreams. It used to be plain vanilla flavoured icecream that came out of a special contraption, and because of that, it used to be really soft and fluffy - hence the name. It used to be just a small quantity in a small cone. And it used to literally melt in the mouth. Memory has it (but I could be wrong) that the company that made it was Kwality Icecreams. And it was quite the rage, I remember. I remember many a time when friends and I would come out of a movie from Rex, or Galaxy or Plaza, and treat ourselves to a softie icecream.
I have not seen the little carts with the softie icecream makers on any of my recent trips back to Bangalore. In fact, I dont remember them being around for many years before I left Bangalore. Why did they disappear?
Those were simpler times, I now feel. Times when a simple vanilla softie icecream could be a big deal. Now, when I feel like an icecream, I have to first think about the calories, and how many gym sessions it will take to undo the damage, and then, if temptation gets the better of me, I have about three hundred different flavours and combinations to choose from. The cones come in different shapes and forms (bowl shaped, twisted, coated with chocolate, or flavoured syrups). Then there are toppings you can add to the icecream - like nuts, cookie pieces, chocolate pieces, coloured sprinklies, cherries, and so on and so forth. Then there are the different types of nuts (walnuts, hazel nuts, pecans, etc). Finally, there is the option of whipped cream, chocolate syrup, strawberry syrup, etc. It takes several minutes to go through all the options with the person putting the icecream together. For Goodness sake, I just want something simple.
Like maybe a vanilla softie icecream cone....
I have not seen the little carts with the softie icecream makers on any of my recent trips back to Bangalore. In fact, I dont remember them being around for many years before I left Bangalore. Why did they disappear?
Those were simpler times, I now feel. Times when a simple vanilla softie icecream could be a big deal. Now, when I feel like an icecream, I have to first think about the calories, and how many gym sessions it will take to undo the damage, and then, if temptation gets the better of me, I have about three hundred different flavours and combinations to choose from. The cones come in different shapes and forms (bowl shaped, twisted, coated with chocolate, or flavoured syrups). Then there are toppings you can add to the icecream - like nuts, cookie pieces, chocolate pieces, coloured sprinklies, cherries, and so on and so forth. Then there are the different types of nuts (walnuts, hazel nuts, pecans, etc). Finally, there is the option of whipped cream, chocolate syrup, strawberry syrup, etc. It takes several minutes to go through all the options with the person putting the icecream together. For Goodness sake, I just want something simple.
Like maybe a vanilla softie icecream cone....
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Peace
It was fairly early in the morning and I drew aside the drapes from the windows which span the entire side of the living and dining rooms...it was a gorgeous day and the sun rays filtered instantly through the clear windows.
I sipped my cuppa and opened the news paper, idly browsing through the head lines. After a few minutes of reading, I looked up, for no particular reason. What I saw is basically what I describe in the rest of this blog. I saw the Buddha. And I was spell bound for an instant.
Let me explain, before you start wondering. I sat on the couch with my back to the aforementioned windows. When I looked up, my sight fell on a statue of the Buddha that sits on the mantle above the fireplace. This is a beautifully sculpted statue, made of solid bronze and admired by many. Among all of my nick-nacks (and I have many), this is one of my favourite. What is really striking about this Buddha is the detail of the carving - the Buddha's seated posture, His robe in folds, His facial expression. So the aforementioned sunlight streamed in from behind me, and when I looked up, my eye caught the sight of a single ray of golden sunlight illuminating the Buddha. And the breath caught in my chest.
There was the Buddha, His face so serene and calm. He had the slightest smile on his face, as if to say - fret not, it shall be okay. I instantly remembered my 10th Std History text books, that talked of famous Buddha statues here and there, in this temple and that, and the qualities of the different Buddha statues. One detail seemed almost ubiquitious in all Buddha statues - the serene facial expression.
Yes! This was exactly how my Buddha looked to me on this seemingly ordinary morning. I have had this statue with me for years, but this was the first time I was paying so much attention to it. Looking at Him bathed in the sunlight, for an instant something powerful jumped out at me. I thought- if Buddha the statue was conveying these emotions and feelings to a normally non-religious entity caught in the everyday hustle and bustle, what must have Buddha the Man inspired all those thousands of years ago in the faithful following...In an instant, my mind's eye caught sight of what might have easily made Buddha the Man transcend that chasm between being merely mortal to being something much much more powerful...
In less than an hour, I was to down a hasty breakfast and head toward my work day which had several things waiting to be tackled. Soon enough, the minor and major stresses, the issues to be resolved, the things to be done would consume me. But - just for that tiny moment on this wonderful morning, when I looked at the calm and serene Buddha and his re-assuring smile, I felt a litle bit of peace. And it was a most wonderful feeling.
I sipped my cuppa and opened the news paper, idly browsing through the head lines. After a few minutes of reading, I looked up, for no particular reason. What I saw is basically what I describe in the rest of this blog. I saw the Buddha. And I was spell bound for an instant.
Let me explain, before you start wondering. I sat on the couch with my back to the aforementioned windows. When I looked up, my sight fell on a statue of the Buddha that sits on the mantle above the fireplace. This is a beautifully sculpted statue, made of solid bronze and admired by many. Among all of my nick-nacks (and I have many), this is one of my favourite. What is really striking about this Buddha is the detail of the carving - the Buddha's seated posture, His robe in folds, His facial expression. So the aforementioned sunlight streamed in from behind me, and when I looked up, my eye caught the sight of a single ray of golden sunlight illuminating the Buddha. And the breath caught in my chest.
There was the Buddha, His face so serene and calm. He had the slightest smile on his face, as if to say - fret not, it shall be okay. I instantly remembered my 10th Std History text books, that talked of famous Buddha statues here and there, in this temple and that, and the qualities of the different Buddha statues. One detail seemed almost ubiquitious in all Buddha statues - the serene facial expression.
Yes! This was exactly how my Buddha looked to me on this seemingly ordinary morning. I have had this statue with me for years, but this was the first time I was paying so much attention to it. Looking at Him bathed in the sunlight, for an instant something powerful jumped out at me. I thought- if Buddha the statue was conveying these emotions and feelings to a normally non-religious entity caught in the everyday hustle and bustle, what must have Buddha the Man inspired all those thousands of years ago in the faithful following...In an instant, my mind's eye caught sight of what might have easily made Buddha the Man transcend that chasm between being merely mortal to being something much much more powerful...
In less than an hour, I was to down a hasty breakfast and head toward my work day which had several things waiting to be tackled. Soon enough, the minor and major stresses, the issues to be resolved, the things to be done would consume me. But - just for that tiny moment on this wonderful morning, when I looked at the calm and serene Buddha and his re-assuring smile, I felt a litle bit of peace. And it was a most wonderful feeling.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Murphy's Law
He looks at the digital clock on the dash board and cursed, well, in his own mild way - it was still a curse. He looks disgustedly at the multitude of automobiles all around him, literally parked on the freeway, moving at about an inch per half hour. The simple truth of the matter is that he is not going to make it.
After what seems like ages, and progress at cosmically slow proportions, he pulls into the gas station, for the mandatory fill up of the rental car. He swipes his credit card, dunks the fuel pump into the gas tank and takes a breath, still pissed at the traffic. 15 seconds later, he hears the 'thunk' of the pump coming out of the gas tank. What the --? Message flashes on the display of the gas pump - "Pump not working". Of all the dastardly luck!! He quickly jumps into the car and backs the car to the other gas pump. Pulling his wallet out for the second time, he swipes his card. The pump asks him to enter his zip code. He enters it. Message - "Invalid zip code". He cannot believe it. By this time, it feels like it has been 20 minutes since he entered the gas station although it is more like 5. However, every second is precious now if he is to make it. He makes a decision. To Hell with the gas. He needs to get going.
Off he goes, trying his best to zoom his way through more traffic. What is ordinarily a 45 minute drive to the airport is now exceeding an hour and half. Not good. He swerves into the Avis Rental Car Return, dashes into the office where the clerk charges him an additional 10 dollars for returning the car empty. In addition he gets a somewhat rolly-eyed "Pah these consultants, what do they care that their company foots the bill" look. As he is weathering that look, from the corner of his eye, he notices the Avis shuttle rolling away to the terminal. He has literally missed the bus! Holy Damnation....he waits for 10 minutes, grinding his teeth and convinced he will miss the flight as well.
The next Avis shuttle arrives, and he jumps on it and it takes him to the terminal, and he is finally dashing towards Security Check. There are two lines going through the baggage and people scanners. He joins the shorter line (of course now). This line is inching its way towards the scanners. Suddenly the line stops moving altogether, and peering into the scanning area, he sees the scanning official waiting for instructions from her boss on making random checks into people's luggage, in spite of the scanners. This check is really supposed to be a random event every now and then, but this is probably the official's first day on the job and she is all gung-ho about making that check on every person's bag. Every person in her line that is. Because the other line is now moving along with amazing speed, and people who were ahead of him are now through the check point and sauntering along to their gates. And so, every laptop bag, water bottle, tennis shoe and sock is checked for explosives, drugs and weapons of mass destruction.
After what seems like an eternity, he is finally through the security check (and he could not even make a ruckus, because then he would look "suspicious" what with being of Asian/East-Indian/Pakistani descent and all, and that would seal the deal on him missing the flight.) By now, there are barely 10 minutes for the flight to take off. Take-off mind you, not boarding. He could picture the stewardess serving coke and pretzels, and the lucky passenger sitting next to him reclining happily into the empty seat.
And so it comes to pass - our man is rushing like a crazed individual through what feels like miles and miles of the terminal to the gate, laptop bag, suitcase and jacket flying every which way as he blazes his way through the throngs. Some tiny part of his brain that is not absorbed in the madness thinks that life was really probably not meant to be this stressful, that this is all very wrong. Wrong, damn you, wrong!
Picture this - the airport official is closing the door leading to the plane entrance after the last boarding call, and he rushes at her looking completely befrazzled, sweaty, waving his boarding pass like a mad man. She opens the door and lets him through almost because of sheer fright.
He enters the plane. Last one of course, and of course everyone is staring at him. He finally finds his seat and sinks down, his legs giving away completely, not believing that he has actually made it. He wipes off the sweat and starts to breathe once more, and then there is the announcement - Bad weather in DC. Flight is delayed by a full hour.
Based on a true incident...
After what seems like ages, and progress at cosmically slow proportions, he pulls into the gas station, for the mandatory fill up of the rental car. He swipes his credit card, dunks the fuel pump into the gas tank and takes a breath, still pissed at the traffic. 15 seconds later, he hears the 'thunk' of the pump coming out of the gas tank. What the --? Message flashes on the display of the gas pump - "Pump not working". Of all the dastardly luck!! He quickly jumps into the car and backs the car to the other gas pump. Pulling his wallet out for the second time, he swipes his card. The pump asks him to enter his zip code. He enters it. Message - "Invalid zip code". He cannot believe it. By this time, it feels like it has been 20 minutes since he entered the gas station although it is more like 5. However, every second is precious now if he is to make it. He makes a decision. To Hell with the gas. He needs to get going.
Off he goes, trying his best to zoom his way through more traffic. What is ordinarily a 45 minute drive to the airport is now exceeding an hour and half. Not good. He swerves into the Avis Rental Car Return, dashes into the office where the clerk charges him an additional 10 dollars for returning the car empty. In addition he gets a somewhat rolly-eyed "Pah these consultants, what do they care that their company foots the bill" look. As he is weathering that look, from the corner of his eye, he notices the Avis shuttle rolling away to the terminal. He has literally missed the bus! Holy Damnation....he waits for 10 minutes, grinding his teeth and convinced he will miss the flight as well.
The next Avis shuttle arrives, and he jumps on it and it takes him to the terminal, and he is finally dashing towards Security Check. There are two lines going through the baggage and people scanners. He joins the shorter line (of course now). This line is inching its way towards the scanners. Suddenly the line stops moving altogether, and peering into the scanning area, he sees the scanning official waiting for instructions from her boss on making random checks into people's luggage, in spite of the scanners. This check is really supposed to be a random event every now and then, but this is probably the official's first day on the job and she is all gung-ho about making that check on every person's bag. Every person in her line that is. Because the other line is now moving along with amazing speed, and people who were ahead of him are now through the check point and sauntering along to their gates. And so, every laptop bag, water bottle, tennis shoe and sock is checked for explosives, drugs and weapons of mass destruction.
After what seems like an eternity, he is finally through the security check (and he could not even make a ruckus, because then he would look "suspicious" what with being of Asian/East-Indian/Pakistani descent and all, and that would seal the deal on him missing the flight.) By now, there are barely 10 minutes for the flight to take off. Take-off mind you, not boarding. He could picture the stewardess serving coke and pretzels, and the lucky passenger sitting next to him reclining happily into the empty seat.
And so it comes to pass - our man is rushing like a crazed individual through what feels like miles and miles of the terminal to the gate, laptop bag, suitcase and jacket flying every which way as he blazes his way through the throngs. Some tiny part of his brain that is not absorbed in the madness thinks that life was really probably not meant to be this stressful, that this is all very wrong. Wrong, damn you, wrong!
Picture this - the airport official is closing the door leading to the plane entrance after the last boarding call, and he rushes at her looking completely befrazzled, sweaty, waving his boarding pass like a mad man. She opens the door and lets him through almost because of sheer fright.
He enters the plane. Last one of course, and of course everyone is staring at him. He finally finds his seat and sinks down, his legs giving away completely, not believing that he has actually made it. He wipes off the sweat and starts to breathe once more, and then there is the announcement - Bad weather in DC. Flight is delayed by a full hour.
Based on a true incident...
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Idol Worship
This thing has me somewhat addicted. I diligently switch on my TV every week (not once but twice in the week - one day is the contest, and the next day is the results show). Silliness, really, because there is so much hoopla about nothing, but still I am addicted. This thing is called American Idol. And I tune in twice every single week.
Even though this show is a singing contest for young American wannabe's, it almost always turns into a popularity contest in which, each week, the American public votes its least favourite contestant out of the show. In the mean time, the rest of the "lucky" contestants (who claim that it is their life's dream to even BE on the show, forget about winning) belt out popular and sometimes not so popular numbers, throwing in "personality", quirks and silliness in an appeal to fans to text and repeatedly text their devotion so that they may survive another week on the show that claims that more people vote for the American Idol than for the American President.
What I really enjoy watching - and this actually has me rolling in laughter on my couch - is the initial part of the show where they basically open up the contest to anyone and everyone, people who turn up in the thousands to try their hand at what they think is singing. And the samples, oh the samples. All sorts of people, trying all sorts of things. And the poor judges (Randy Jackson, Paula Abdul and Simon Cowell) have to sit through that, and give their comments. And that is really hilarious, actually. Simon Cowell makes such mean remarks (and I think most of the donkeys trying to sing but actually braying really deserve some of those comments), and it makes for a bunch of laughs, every time.
The contestants who make it through all the initial rounds then have to sing each week and the country votes for their favourite. Even this bunch has its share of characters. Take for instance contestant Haley, who shows up each week in teeny tiny shorts and a back-less top and belts out something that borders on shrieking...she finally got voted off on account of the fact that she shows more skin than talent.
But the biggest character to date has been 17 year old Sanjaya Malakar, a somewhat emaciated Indian American (aka ABCD) who is actually really an awful singer. Somehow he made it to the top 12, and from that point on, he caught the public's fancy, and each week, in spite of his ridiculous hairdos, pathetic choice of songs, and really awful singing- gets voted in and stays on in the competition. Apparently teen and pre-teen girls in the country make up the bulk of his fan following. Still, that does not seem enough to keep him in the competition, but miracuoulsy, he stays each week. Some theories floating around, because EVERYBODY is obsessed with the question of "Just WHO is voting for Sanjaya" (here, please remember that we are talking about a public that in general, lives in its own cocoon of a world, not concerned with the real issues that are taking the rest of the world by storm, but really really concerned with the fairly useless set of events that rock their little cushiony world - like the fact that Donald Trump gave the alcoholic Miss USA a second chance at retaining the crown, or the fact that Sanjaya Malakar might just win American Idol). As I was saying, some theories are -
1. Howard Stern is campaigning for "Lets vote for the worst" on his radio shows that bring in Sanjaya's votes
2. Since Sanjaya is an Indian American, some call center in India has been commisioned to do nothing but call in again and again voting for Sanjaya
Anyway, like I was saying, in spite of the sheer silliness of this whole thing, I still tune in every single week to see what's happenning, and what will happen next. Lets hope that I stay away next season and do something more useful with the one hour of time. But for this season, there are exactly six contestants still left, and next week, two of them are going to get voted off. I'm wondering who they will be, and I have a few suspects.
Oh and by the way - Sanjaya got voted off last week. He was finally really just too awful for his own good. I'll miss him, that's for sure.
Even though this show is a singing contest for young American wannabe's, it almost always turns into a popularity contest in which, each week, the American public votes its least favourite contestant out of the show. In the mean time, the rest of the "lucky" contestants (who claim that it is their life's dream to even BE on the show, forget about winning) belt out popular and sometimes not so popular numbers, throwing in "personality", quirks and silliness in an appeal to fans to text and repeatedly text their devotion so that they may survive another week on the show that claims that more people vote for the American Idol than for the American President.
What I really enjoy watching - and this actually has me rolling in laughter on my couch - is the initial part of the show where they basically open up the contest to anyone and everyone, people who turn up in the thousands to try their hand at what they think is singing. And the samples, oh the samples. All sorts of people, trying all sorts of things. And the poor judges (Randy Jackson, Paula Abdul and Simon Cowell) have to sit through that, and give their comments. And that is really hilarious, actually. Simon Cowell makes such mean remarks (and I think most of the donkeys trying to sing but actually braying really deserve some of those comments), and it makes for a bunch of laughs, every time.
The contestants who make it through all the initial rounds then have to sing each week and the country votes for their favourite. Even this bunch has its share of characters. Take for instance contestant Haley, who shows up each week in teeny tiny shorts and a back-less top and belts out something that borders on shrieking...she finally got voted off on account of the fact that she shows more skin than talent.
But the biggest character to date has been 17 year old Sanjaya Malakar, a somewhat emaciated Indian American (aka ABCD) who is actually really an awful singer. Somehow he made it to the top 12, and from that point on, he caught the public's fancy, and each week, in spite of his ridiculous hairdos, pathetic choice of songs, and really awful singing- gets voted in and stays on in the competition. Apparently teen and pre-teen girls in the country make up the bulk of his fan following. Still, that does not seem enough to keep him in the competition, but miracuoulsy, he stays each week. Some theories floating around, because EVERYBODY is obsessed with the question of "Just WHO is voting for Sanjaya" (here, please remember that we are talking about a public that in general, lives in its own cocoon of a world, not concerned with the real issues that are taking the rest of the world by storm, but really really concerned with the fairly useless set of events that rock their little cushiony world - like the fact that Donald Trump gave the alcoholic Miss USA a second chance at retaining the crown, or the fact that Sanjaya Malakar might just win American Idol). As I was saying, some theories are -
1. Howard Stern is campaigning for "Lets vote for the worst" on his radio shows that bring in Sanjaya's votes
2. Since Sanjaya is an Indian American, some call center in India has been commisioned to do nothing but call in again and again voting for Sanjaya
Anyway, like I was saying, in spite of the sheer silliness of this whole thing, I still tune in every single week to see what's happenning, and what will happen next. Lets hope that I stay away next season and do something more useful with the one hour of time. But for this season, there are exactly six contestants still left, and next week, two of them are going to get voted off. I'm wondering who they will be, and I have a few suspects.
Oh and by the way - Sanjaya got voted off last week. He was finally really just too awful for his own good. I'll miss him, that's for sure.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Win-T(e)rials & Win-T(e)ribulations
We had beautiful Fall Colours in October and November. Then the leaves started to fall. That was December. Balmy weather. Then came January. Still nice and sunny and cool at 60 degrees. What kind of winter was this, everyone asked? People still jogged on the streets in their tiny shorts, and middle aged pot bellied men still drove with their Mercedes convertible top down. Everyone was happy, including us. A friend cautioned - the average winter temperature always stays the same. If its warm now, there will be cold times. It always averages out, he said. We pah-ed his pessimistic talk and continued on our way.
Turns out, he was correct. Someone turned off the warm weather switch right about the 31st of January. Actually it was more like a shorted fuse, because almost immediately, there was wintery darkness and coldness and miserableness all in one.
And finally, last week there was the big storm. Paranoia set in about a week before. It made for all lunch conversations. The weather channel had a field week. The regular channels also took up the cause. Schools closed down. People took off from work (AKA worked from home). And yes, this time the snow did fall, the winds did blow. It was actually kind of beautiful when it was happenning (of course, I watched from a cozy indoor 72 degree spot). The white snow, softly fell, covering every visible surface like white powdery sugar coating.
Then came the fun part. After it was all over, we had to shovel the drive-way. Things we going against us -
1. Sub, Sub Zero temperatures
2. Cold wind blowing, which makes Point Number One look even worse
3. The afore-mentioned beautiful white snow, like white powdery sugar coating now had somehow transformed itself into hard, unrelenting ice
4. The plastic shovel (which we had to borrow from a kind neighbour), when making contact with the afore-mentioned ice, ricocheted back into the air with virtually no impact on the ice. It was like we were pummelling the ice with the shovel and nothing seemed to be happenning.
Things we had going for us-
1. Motivation - to get the damn thing shovelled, at least for one of the cars to be able to get out of the garage, or else we would be grounded until the temperatures rose and the snow melted of its own will (which was not going to happen for a long time)
I am glad to report that after what felt like a really long time, we finally finished the task, and lost a nose, 3 ears and half a lip to frost bite in the process. But Halleluja! We could finally drive the car in and out of the garage.
In less than a month, I have had enough of this Winter. I cannot wait for Spring.
Turns out, he was correct. Someone turned off the warm weather switch right about the 31st of January. Actually it was more like a shorted fuse, because almost immediately, there was wintery darkness and coldness and miserableness all in one.
And finally, last week there was the big storm. Paranoia set in about a week before. It made for all lunch conversations. The weather channel had a field week. The regular channels also took up the cause. Schools closed down. People took off from work (AKA worked from home). And yes, this time the snow did fall, the winds did blow. It was actually kind of beautiful when it was happenning (of course, I watched from a cozy indoor 72 degree spot). The white snow, softly fell, covering every visible surface like white powdery sugar coating.
Then came the fun part. After it was all over, we had to shovel the drive-way. Things we going against us -
1. Sub, Sub Zero temperatures
2. Cold wind blowing, which makes Point Number One look even worse
3. The afore-mentioned beautiful white snow, like white powdery sugar coating now had somehow transformed itself into hard, unrelenting ice
4. The plastic shovel (which we had to borrow from a kind neighbour), when making contact with the afore-mentioned ice, ricocheted back into the air with virtually no impact on the ice. It was like we were pummelling the ice with the shovel and nothing seemed to be happenning.
Things we had going for us-
1. Motivation - to get the damn thing shovelled, at least for one of the cars to be able to get out of the garage, or else we would be grounded until the temperatures rose and the snow melted of its own will (which was not going to happen for a long time)
I am glad to report that after what felt like a really long time, we finally finished the task, and lost a nose, 3 ears and half a lip to frost bite in the process. But Halleluja! We could finally drive the car in and out of the garage.
In less than a month, I have had enough of this Winter. I cannot wait for Spring.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Nanna Bengalooru
My Bangalore. I walked out of the airport after a surprisingly no-hassle experience with customs, et al...I walked into the early morning Bangalore air, cool, yet warmer than I was used to of late, about a hundred people already waiting outside, some 25 or so for loved ones having just landed, the remaining 75 of them taxi and auto drivers looking for customers. And then I spotted my dear brother, who drove me home. But really, I was home the minute the plane I was on for the previous 20 hours, touched the ground.
Its the familiarity of some things that hit you, and the absolute newness of others that have cropped up in the time that you have been away, that make for such an amazing combination, that you cant get enough of the sights, sounds and smells, especially in those first few days. My hungry senses took in the blue BTS buses tumbling down the road, the auto driving blatanly in the wrong direction on a one-way street, the stray dog following the little kid at the construction site, the shack in the corner of the intersection, selling tea in little steel tumblers to early morning hawkers and such. I took in the number and variety of cars on the road, most of them pretty sleek looking, the new multi-rise office buildings, the new malls, the new parks. I stared and stared, taking everything in. We even drove over impresisve fly-overs that were being constructed the last time I was here, but were now complete. There are now fly-overs as well as under-passes.
Then we turned down familiar streets in the direction of home...and I saw more new apartments, office buildings and shopping centers. We avoided certain roads because they were now one-ways, and others because they were not in good condition and still others because of the traffic. My Bangalore had changed in many ways, and in so many ways, it was still the same. I still saw the slums next to the IT offices. We still battled the incessant traffic on our way to anywhere. I still saw the blatant disregard of people towards other people, rules and basic civic behavior. But I also see how many more educated people have jobs, and have options to spend their money. I also see that there is nothing you dont get in Bangalore anymore. I see the egde that being educated and living/working in Bangalore gives you in a global scheme of things.
We drove on, towards home. My brain was in over-drive, processing everything that I was seeing, and my excitement knew no bounds. Excitement, to be with my family again, excitement of driving on the familiar roads and extensions, excitement at the chaos, the noise, the familiar sights. Excitement at being back in my dear Bangalore.
Its the familiarity of some things that hit you, and the absolute newness of others that have cropped up in the time that you have been away, that make for such an amazing combination, that you cant get enough of the sights, sounds and smells, especially in those first few days. My hungry senses took in the blue BTS buses tumbling down the road, the auto driving blatanly in the wrong direction on a one-way street, the stray dog following the little kid at the construction site, the shack in the corner of the intersection, selling tea in little steel tumblers to early morning hawkers and such. I took in the number and variety of cars on the road, most of them pretty sleek looking, the new multi-rise office buildings, the new malls, the new parks. I stared and stared, taking everything in. We even drove over impresisve fly-overs that were being constructed the last time I was here, but were now complete. There are now fly-overs as well as under-passes.
Then we turned down familiar streets in the direction of home...and I saw more new apartments, office buildings and shopping centers. We avoided certain roads because they were now one-ways, and others because they were not in good condition and still others because of the traffic. My Bangalore had changed in many ways, and in so many ways, it was still the same. I still saw the slums next to the IT offices. We still battled the incessant traffic on our way to anywhere. I still saw the blatant disregard of people towards other people, rules and basic civic behavior. But I also see how many more educated people have jobs, and have options to spend their money. I also see that there is nothing you dont get in Bangalore anymore. I see the egde that being educated and living/working in Bangalore gives you in a global scheme of things.
We drove on, towards home. My brain was in over-drive, processing everything that I was seeing, and my excitement knew no bounds. Excitement, to be with my family again, excitement of driving on the familiar roads and extensions, excitement at the chaos, the noise, the familiar sights. Excitement at being back in my dear Bangalore.
Monday, December 25, 2006
I Readeth
I am rather pleased with myself. I have managed to read three books in succession in the last month, and I am onto the fourth. A huge accomplishment for someone who claimed to have no time anymore for this once favourite activity. I guess its just a matter of making the time. In any case, the pleasure was worth it. Here's briefly about the pages I have been burying my somewhat longish nose in:
The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri
I really liked her Pulitzer Prize winner Interpreter of Maladies, which is a collection of really neat short stories, so I was prompted to pick up this one from Barnes and Nobles, two days before my flight to Bangalore. It has taken me two really long cross continental flights and two weeks more to finally finish it. In all honesty, I actually started reading and finished another book in between before I finished this one. The Namesake is actually quite a well put together story...it gets a little long winded in the middle, but I wonder if this is simply my reaction to many things these days....I just have this tendency to snap my fingers and get things done and out of the way quickly....in any case, I like Jhumpa's style of writing, and the story line itself is something I can relate to in some of the pages....its primarily about a boy named, uncannily, Gogol, and his journey through many phases of his life...and his parents who are first generation immigrants to the US from Calcutta. Its heart-wrenchingly human how Gogol despises and is embarrased by his parents' "Indian" ways when he is growing up...how he is eventually affected by his father's untimely death, and how, at the end of the story, his family becomes important to him. Its a non-frilly, down-to-earth style, and a story with very very human emotions. Liked it quite a bit now.
Waiting for the Mahatma by R. K. Narayan
R.K. Narayan's works have always been real classics. Who does not remember 'Swami and his friends' and 'Malgudi Days' with the utmost fondness? One day, I hope to have read all his works, and there are many. But for now, I picked up a copy of 'Waiting for the Mahatma' bought by my brother whose latest claim to fame is that he is an "experimental" reader.
I was not disappointed. Waiting for the Mahatma is set in a time that I am fascinated reading about - the British Raj. More specifically, it is set in the years just before the British finally quit India, and when the Mahatma's image was all important, even in the little town of Malgudi. More than about Gandhi, this story is about the everyday people of British India, the commonners who, uncannily, have no clue about what is really going on, what the freedom movement is really all about. It is about people like Sriram (the main character in the story) and how he relates to the movement, his place and role in the scheme of things. And, in Narayan's inimitable style, it is also about the Mahatma. The story tells about the immaturity of Sriram's youth, how he struggles to grow out of his little corner of the world, what Gandhi and the freedom movement mean to him, and how his infatuation for a girl leads him to do things he would otherwise never ever have done.
What comes through so poignantly in the tale is how ordinary people are involved and yet so far removed from the realities of the movement, and how they actually have no earthly idea about the big picture, living their daily lives in their microcosmic worlds, intrerpreting events in their myopic ways. The reader feels helplessness and sympathy at the same time.
Check it out if you get a chance. As always, R. K Narayan touches something inside you.
The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri
I really liked her Pulitzer Prize winner Interpreter of Maladies, which is a collection of really neat short stories, so I was prompted to pick up this one from Barnes and Nobles, two days before my flight to Bangalore. It has taken me two really long cross continental flights and two weeks more to finally finish it. In all honesty, I actually started reading and finished another book in between before I finished this one. The Namesake is actually quite a well put together story...it gets a little long winded in the middle, but I wonder if this is simply my reaction to many things these days....I just have this tendency to snap my fingers and get things done and out of the way quickly....in any case, I like Jhumpa's style of writing, and the story line itself is something I can relate to in some of the pages....its primarily about a boy named, uncannily, Gogol, and his journey through many phases of his life...and his parents who are first generation immigrants to the US from Calcutta. Its heart-wrenchingly human how Gogol despises and is embarrased by his parents' "Indian" ways when he is growing up...how he is eventually affected by his father's untimely death, and how, at the end of the story, his family becomes important to him. Its a non-frilly, down-to-earth style, and a story with very very human emotions. Liked it quite a bit now.
Waiting for the Mahatma by R. K. Narayan
R.K. Narayan's works have always been real classics. Who does not remember 'Swami and his friends' and 'Malgudi Days' with the utmost fondness? One day, I hope to have read all his works, and there are many. But for now, I picked up a copy of 'Waiting for the Mahatma' bought by my brother whose latest claim to fame is that he is an "experimental" reader.
I was not disappointed. Waiting for the Mahatma is set in a time that I am fascinated reading about - the British Raj. More specifically, it is set in the years just before the British finally quit India, and when the Mahatma's image was all important, even in the little town of Malgudi. More than about Gandhi, this story is about the everyday people of British India, the commonners who, uncannily, have no clue about what is really going on, what the freedom movement is really all about. It is about people like Sriram (the main character in the story) and how he relates to the movement, his place and role in the scheme of things. And, in Narayan's inimitable style, it is also about the Mahatma. The story tells about the immaturity of Sriram's youth, how he struggles to grow out of his little corner of the world, what Gandhi and the freedom movement mean to him, and how his infatuation for a girl leads him to do things he would otherwise never ever have done.
What comes through so poignantly in the tale is how ordinary people are involved and yet so far removed from the realities of the movement, and how they actually have no earthly idea about the big picture, living their daily lives in their microcosmic worlds, intrerpreting events in their myopic ways. The reader feels helplessness and sympathy at the same time.
Check it out if you get a chance. As always, R. K Narayan touches something inside you.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Windy City, Second City
Chicago - A surprise.
I was expecting a cold, dowdy, sixties style city with bad neighbourhoods, and pathetic winter weather. Hmm. I guess I need to eat my words, not buy into stereotype that is often misplaced, and to actually "be there and do that", to make my opinion about something.
Downtown Chiacago is a beautiful place. The architecture is often a blend of ancient and modern, but this very mix is somewhat pleasing to the eye. It does have a Manhatten feel, but in a really nice way. The evening sunlight lent shimmery, glowing dancing lights on the canal that runs through and walking through the hustle and bustle with a hot latte felt really nice. Lots to see and do, shop, etc.
Lake Michigan is beautiful. Its huge, a brilliant blue-green in the sunlight, and the skyline of the famous city looks rather breath-taking as a backdrop. Warning, it is windy though, and temperatures near the lake are around 10 degrees Farenheit lower than in the heart of the city. And the winds. Oh my God, the winds, they can actually threaten to blow you away, and freeze the very marrow in your bones. And this was in October.
Suburban Chicago is nice as well. Not as pretty as the East Coast, but nice nevertheless.
Second City. Something we checked out, came recommended. I guess its a Comedy Club with history. Lots of famous people started their careers here, I believe. In any case, we went for a show called:
I would break down the entertainment value as follows:
Funny: 60%
Slapstick: 30%
Fell really flat: 10%
But those sun-of-a-gun comedians are a talented bunch. The "improvization" piece actually show-cased their abilities to come up with funny stuff on the spot. And some of it was actually very funny.
All in all, pretty decent value for the money. And the Margaritas helped as well.
My weekend in Chiacgo, a neat get-a-way from work, and the regular regular. I will go again if I get a chance.
I was expecting a cold, dowdy, sixties style city with bad neighbourhoods, and pathetic winter weather. Hmm. I guess I need to eat my words, not buy into stereotype that is often misplaced, and to actually "be there and do that", to make my opinion about something.
Downtown Chiacago is a beautiful place. The architecture is often a blend of ancient and modern, but this very mix is somewhat pleasing to the eye. It does have a Manhatten feel, but in a really nice way. The evening sunlight lent shimmery, glowing dancing lights on the canal that runs through and walking through the hustle and bustle with a hot latte felt really nice. Lots to see and do, shop, etc.
Lake Michigan is beautiful. Its huge, a brilliant blue-green in the sunlight, and the skyline of the famous city looks rather breath-taking as a backdrop. Warning, it is windy though, and temperatures near the lake are around 10 degrees Farenheit lower than in the heart of the city. And the winds. Oh my God, the winds, they can actually threaten to blow you away, and freeze the very marrow in your bones. And this was in October.
Suburban Chicago is nice as well. Not as pretty as the East Coast, but nice nevertheless.
Second City. Something we checked out, came recommended. I guess its a Comedy Club with history. Lots of famous people started their careers here, I believe. In any case, we went for a show called:
I would break down the entertainment value as follows:
Funny: 60%
Slapstick: 30%
Fell really flat: 10%
But those sun-of-a-gun comedians are a talented bunch. The "improvization" piece actually show-cased their abilities to come up with funny stuff on the spot. And some of it was actually very funny.
All in all, pretty decent value for the money. And the Margaritas helped as well.
My weekend in Chiacgo, a neat get-a-way from work, and the regular regular. I will go again if I get a chance.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Kids and Financial Education
Today I was a volunteer at the Capital One Finance Park, a collaboration of Capital One and Junior Achievement (a not-for-profit organization sponsored by corporate and individual contributors that brings programs to school children, teaching them how they can impact the world around them as individuals, workers and consumers. Junior Achievement programs continue through the middle and high school grades, preparing students for future economic and workforce issues they'll face.). So we helped 12 year old kids walk through real life scenarios, given a fixed income and various expenses (family to look after, etc) and a budget to spend their income. It was a lot of fun, and I learned a couple of things:
1. These kids are smart
2. They know a lot more about managing finances than I ever did at their age (maybe through programs such as this one)
3. There is a lot you can teach kids, and if you attempt to teach them in the right way, they will amaze you with how they learn/apply
Some things I was amazed by:
1. The Desi kid who was way ahead of the rest of the group I was working with, and finished all his calculations way ahead and then sat looking bored while the rest struggled to catch up (and all his numbers were perfectly right)
2. The little girl who was given only 20K as her annual income and who had 2 small kids, and she made a decision to buy a slightly more expensive furniture set as compared to the cheapest available option, because her reasoning was that the more expensive set included a cot, and other items that could be used by her kids whereas the cheaper furniture set included some useless things such as leather couch, etc. She figured that she could cut back on buying a cheaper car and buy the furniture for her kids instead. A 12 year old's reasoning...wow!
Other things that were really impressive:
* The infratructure and set up of the whole things - makeshift real life scanarios with banks, stores, car dealerships, etc etc that the kids could walk through, and the real life simulations of how they could spend their money, etc
* The amount of thought and careful construction of these scenarios, training and organization of the whole thing
* Marketing Capital One's Brand!! Live taping by CNN (!) and huge publicity for Capital One, which takes its brand image and this whole "giving back to the community" pretty seriously!!
So, will I be on a live show on CNN...? Not sure, but do let me know if you spot me someday!
I just love being on Capital One's Community Corps Board, and being an active volunteer in this and other volunteer activities. Great stuff, and looking forward to many many more.
For more info on this event, click on:
http://phx.corporate-ir.net/phoenix.zhtml?c=70667&p=irol-newsArticle2&ID=909326&highlight=
For more info on Junior Achievment, check out
http://www.ja.org/
1. These kids are smart
2. They know a lot more about managing finances than I ever did at their age (maybe through programs such as this one)
3. There is a lot you can teach kids, and if you attempt to teach them in the right way, they will amaze you with how they learn/apply
Some things I was amazed by:
1. The Desi kid who was way ahead of the rest of the group I was working with, and finished all his calculations way ahead and then sat looking bored while the rest struggled to catch up (and all his numbers were perfectly right)
2. The little girl who was given only 20K as her annual income and who had 2 small kids, and she made a decision to buy a slightly more expensive furniture set as compared to the cheapest available option, because her reasoning was that the more expensive set included a cot, and other items that could be used by her kids whereas the cheaper furniture set included some useless things such as leather couch, etc. She figured that she could cut back on buying a cheaper car and buy the furniture for her kids instead. A 12 year old's reasoning...wow!
Other things that were really impressive:
* The infratructure and set up of the whole things - makeshift real life scanarios with banks, stores, car dealerships, etc etc that the kids could walk through, and the real life simulations of how they could spend their money, etc
* The amount of thought and careful construction of these scenarios, training and organization of the whole thing
* Marketing Capital One's Brand!! Live taping by CNN (!) and huge publicity for Capital One, which takes its brand image and this whole "giving back to the community" pretty seriously!!
So, will I be on a live show on CNN...? Not sure, but do let me know if you spot me someday!
I just love being on Capital One's Community Corps Board, and being an active volunteer in this and other volunteer activities. Great stuff, and looking forward to many many more.
For more info on this event, click on:
http://phx.corporate-ir.net/phoenix.zhtml?c=70667&p=irol-newsArticle2&ID=909326&highlight=
For more info on Junior Achievment, check out
http://www.ja.org/
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Buenos dias Mexico!
The weekend was here, and we couldn't wait to be off...6 months, lotsa work-related work later, we were ready for a vacation. Thanks to AA miles, soon we were flying business class to Cancun Mexico. With much anticipation, we got off at the airport, and smelled Madras India- not at all in a bad way, but just that muggy, humid, extra-warm air...so different from the insipid, sterile US air, so reminiscent of India, and so excitingly foreign.
Mexico is a place that reminded me totally of India. Apart from Cancun (I'll come to this later), the rest of the place is typical "Des". The countryside, the weather, the water (not to be trusted), everything resembles India - with one exception - the roads. This will tie into my later point about Cancun- but to sum it up, the roads are great. Totally facilitates going from point A to point B in decent shape and form, which is one of the few things that a tourist can really ask for.
As for Cancun, its like mini-US. Totally caters to the Western tourist going there to enjoy and spend lots and lots of American dollars. But no-one complains- after all, the white sands, blue waters, sight-seeing/adventure options, and happenning night-life are all well worth it to tourists hungry for the ultimate carribean experience. So, as I was saying, Cancun looks and feels pretty much like the US. The hotels, beaches, and clubs cater to tourists. The only thing that makes it "Mexican" are - well, the Mexicans. All over the place (as one would expect, since it is their country), and in Cancun, most of them speak English, and all of them take your American Dollars in addition to Pesos (and usually make a good arbitrage profit with the exchange rate- we fell for it too, in spite of being warned at the airport by a well-meaning official). Ah yes, that reminds me - the airport in Cancun would give any other fancy international airport a good run for its money. These people have basically got it right. They realized what a gold mine they have as a tourist destination, and have built the infrastructure and system to support it. And as a result, they're making billions of dollars. It makes me want the same for India - we have so many breath-takingly beautiful places in India that can be show-cased to the world and can be potential big-time tourist destinations, if only the infrastructure and facilities are provided right...but this is changing too, somewhat...and more and more of these are cropping up...all for the better.
And what did we do in Cancun? We visited the thousand year old Chi-chen Itza pyramid, the ruins at Tulum (which, high on a cliff right by the blue waters of the Carribean, makes for a spectacularly beautiful sight). We also visited Xel-ha, a natural fresh-water lagoon rich in aquatic and marine life. Here we swam, tubed, and ah- snorkeled. What beautiful fish we saw, colourful parrot fish, big huge mantaray's and scores of other little creatures that dazzled with their colours, sizes and movements...We also tanned ourselves severely on the beaches, splashed incessantly in the blue ocean, and visited a couple of bars, did some couvenier shopping.
And how did we fare with our Spanish? Like I said, it was fine in Cancun, but in some of the other places - we did have some trouble. The sequence went something like this - first we would say something in English, then the guy would say something in Spanish. Incomprehension from both parties. Then he would whip out a calculator and show us the amount we had to pay for the souvenier. Ah, but we wanted to bargain (which is the done thing in Mexico). So we're at it again, not reaching a concensus, because basically we dont get what the other is saying. Then we try gesturing. Doesnt do it. Then we try facial expressions. No luck. Then we try body actions, and mimicking. Nopes, dont work. Finally, we say "No English?". He shakes his head regretfully. Then he says, "No espanol?" We shake our head regretfully. Then we both give up and go our separate ways.
After a sun-drenched, beach-satiated, thorougly relaxing holiday, we returned home, albeit a little sooner than we might have wanted. Cancun, Mexico - a must-do sometime, somewhere.
Mexico is a place that reminded me totally of India. Apart from Cancun (I'll come to this later), the rest of the place is typical "Des". The countryside, the weather, the water (not to be trusted), everything resembles India - with one exception - the roads. This will tie into my later point about Cancun- but to sum it up, the roads are great. Totally facilitates going from point A to point B in decent shape and form, which is one of the few things that a tourist can really ask for.
As for Cancun, its like mini-US. Totally caters to the Western tourist going there to enjoy and spend lots and lots of American dollars. But no-one complains- after all, the white sands, blue waters, sight-seeing/adventure options, and happenning night-life are all well worth it to tourists hungry for the ultimate carribean experience. So, as I was saying, Cancun looks and feels pretty much like the US. The hotels, beaches, and clubs cater to tourists. The only thing that makes it "Mexican" are - well, the Mexicans. All over the place (as one would expect, since it is their country), and in Cancun, most of them speak English, and all of them take your American Dollars in addition to Pesos (and usually make a good arbitrage profit with the exchange rate- we fell for it too, in spite of being warned at the airport by a well-meaning official). Ah yes, that reminds me - the airport in Cancun would give any other fancy international airport a good run for its money. These people have basically got it right. They realized what a gold mine they have as a tourist destination, and have built the infrastructure and system to support it. And as a result, they're making billions of dollars. It makes me want the same for India - we have so many breath-takingly beautiful places in India that can be show-cased to the world and can be potential big-time tourist destinations, if only the infrastructure and facilities are provided right...but this is changing too, somewhat...and more and more of these are cropping up...all for the better.
And what did we do in Cancun? We visited the thousand year old Chi-chen Itza pyramid, the ruins at Tulum (which, high on a cliff right by the blue waters of the Carribean, makes for a spectacularly beautiful sight). We also visited Xel-ha, a natural fresh-water lagoon rich in aquatic and marine life. Here we swam, tubed, and ah- snorkeled. What beautiful fish we saw, colourful parrot fish, big huge mantaray's and scores of other little creatures that dazzled with their colours, sizes and movements...We also tanned ourselves severely on the beaches, splashed incessantly in the blue ocean, and visited a couple of bars, did some couvenier shopping.
And how did we fare with our Spanish? Like I said, it was fine in Cancun, but in some of the other places - we did have some trouble. The sequence went something like this - first we would say something in English, then the guy would say something in Spanish. Incomprehension from both parties. Then he would whip out a calculator and show us the amount we had to pay for the souvenier. Ah, but we wanted to bargain (which is the done thing in Mexico). So we're at it again, not reaching a concensus, because basically we dont get what the other is saying. Then we try gesturing. Doesnt do it. Then we try facial expressions. No luck. Then we try body actions, and mimicking. Nopes, dont work. Finally, we say "No English?". He shakes his head regretfully. Then he says, "No espanol?" We shake our head regretfully. Then we both give up and go our separate ways.
After a sun-drenched, beach-satiated, thorougly relaxing holiday, we returned home, albeit a little sooner than we might have wanted. Cancun, Mexico - a must-do sometime, somewhere.
Friday, June 02, 2006
LA Vs. DC - Part III
Okay, you're convinced by now that I'm just a die-hard Californian who'se cribbing about coming down to DC....au contraire, my friends...
I never thought that such drastic transformations were possible in nature. When it's almost as if you go to sleep one night, and everything is as it usually is...you know, dreary and leafless, and lifeless and all wintery...and you wake up the next morning, and somewhere during the previous night, this inexplicable force waved a magic wand over the entire place, and the dreariness was washed out, and in its place swept in this breath-takingly beautiful swish of colours...all, all over the place!
The cherry blossoms were more beautiful than I could ever have imagined. Pink and white...like a canopy of hue against the blue skies...every street, every road lined with blossomming trees of every imaginable colour...how very beautiful...
In LA, there are no changing seasons. No spring colours, just the same kind of weather all year round. Nice in a way, no sudden surprises...but also boring.
In DC - Highways, city, country-side...no matter where you are, there's a fresh sight to behold everywhere. Sometimes, when you round a bend, a huge flowering tree so gorgeous can make you stop in your tracks, and momentarily wonder at how bounteous and beautiful nature can really be, and how varied and intricate and amazing life really is.
Round Three - Colourful, colourful DC
I never thought that such drastic transformations were possible in nature. When it's almost as if you go to sleep one night, and everything is as it usually is...you know, dreary and leafless, and lifeless and all wintery...and you wake up the next morning, and somewhere during the previous night, this inexplicable force waved a magic wand over the entire place, and the dreariness was washed out, and in its place swept in this breath-takingly beautiful swish of colours...all, all over the place!
The cherry blossoms were more beautiful than I could ever have imagined. Pink and white...like a canopy of hue against the blue skies...every street, every road lined with blossomming trees of every imaginable colour...how very beautiful...
In LA, there are no changing seasons. No spring colours, just the same kind of weather all year round. Nice in a way, no sudden surprises...but also boring.
In DC - Highways, city, country-side...no matter where you are, there's a fresh sight to behold everywhere. Sometimes, when you round a bend, a huge flowering tree so gorgeous can make you stop in your tracks, and momentarily wonder at how bounteous and beautiful nature can really be, and how varied and intricate and amazing life really is.
Round Three - Colourful, colourful DC
Sunday, April 16, 2006
LA Vs. DC - Part II
These DC Drivers...
Its an old fact that LA's traffic is bad. That it's so bad, that apparently, and this is the part I don't believe- that some people (and these are East Coastans - surprised? I'm not) claim that they will never move to LA because of the traffic. Yeah, right.
I tend to somewhat agree with the fact that LA's traffic can get to your sanity. I've coursed LA's infamous freeways so much, driven from county to county so much, and been stuck in traffic so many zillions of times, that I would readily agree with anyone-even East Coastans, that LA's traffic is its biggest bane. There have been many a time when I would be sitting on 405, switching between 104.5 fm and the traffic update channel, outwardly calm, trying to think of alternate routes, but desperation bubbling inside, threatening to blow my sanity along with it.
Yes, LA's traffic is bad, people. BUT- and this is the part that might get some of these locals a tad bit testy - here is my take on traffic in DC. It's not as bad as LA, although everyone complains, but it's the DC drivers that have me gasping and gagging (and swearing) when I'm driving around. Yes, they are a rude bunch, methinks. They honk you out of pleasant day-dreams while you're waiting at a signal light, they scare the living daylights out of poor old Mr. and Mrs. Smith (who are in their 80's at least, out on an evening walk) at the pedestrian crossing, and they dont seem to care about the concept of waiting to let someone else have the right of way, if they absolutely dont have to. Somewhat reminiscent of the New York cab drivers, no?
Say what you will about LA's traffic. I for one always thought that they LA drivers were examples of courtesy. Countless times have they waited to let people cross, drivers drive ahead of them, and wait patiently in a huge long queue of traffic, not honking. Yes, these LA drivers zip on the freeways at 80+...but they're as patient as job at all other times. And if you, standing for all the good things that LA drivers stand for, wait at a Stop sign to let another car have the right of way, then the DC guy behind you honks loud and long to let you know you're really pissing him off. Abominable!
Round 2 - the city of Angels, my friends.
Its an old fact that LA's traffic is bad. That it's so bad, that apparently, and this is the part I don't believe- that some people (and these are East Coastans - surprised? I'm not) claim that they will never move to LA because of the traffic. Yeah, right.
I tend to somewhat agree with the fact that LA's traffic can get to your sanity. I've coursed LA's infamous freeways so much, driven from county to county so much, and been stuck in traffic so many zillions of times, that I would readily agree with anyone-even East Coastans, that LA's traffic is its biggest bane. There have been many a time when I would be sitting on 405, switching between 104.5 fm and the traffic update channel, outwardly calm, trying to think of alternate routes, but desperation bubbling inside, threatening to blow my sanity along with it.
Yes, LA's traffic is bad, people. BUT- and this is the part that might get some of these locals a tad bit testy - here is my take on traffic in DC. It's not as bad as LA, although everyone complains, but it's the DC drivers that have me gasping and gagging (and swearing) when I'm driving around. Yes, they are a rude bunch, methinks. They honk you out of pleasant day-dreams while you're waiting at a signal light, they scare the living daylights out of poor old Mr. and Mrs. Smith (who are in their 80's at least, out on an evening walk) at the pedestrian crossing, and they dont seem to care about the concept of waiting to let someone else have the right of way, if they absolutely dont have to. Somewhat reminiscent of the New York cab drivers, no?
Say what you will about LA's traffic. I for one always thought that they LA drivers were examples of courtesy. Countless times have they waited to let people cross, drivers drive ahead of them, and wait patiently in a huge long queue of traffic, not honking. Yes, these LA drivers zip on the freeways at 80+...but they're as patient as job at all other times. And if you, standing for all the good things that LA drivers stand for, wait at a Stop sign to let another car have the right of way, then the DC guy behind you honks loud and long to let you know you're really pissing him off. Abominable!
Round 2 - the city of Angels, my friends.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
LA Vs. DC - Part I
Ok, you guessed it. It HAS to be about the weather.
I got out at Dulles, DC and expected a blizzard. I was wrong. No raging snowstorm, no bone-chilling winds. Days passed, temperatures were low, mind you...much lower than the sunny land I had left behind, but still, it was not the weather shock I had been warned about. Weeks pass, no snow, and I look questioningly about at the people who are the veterans of winter weather, these East_Coastans, and they look at me with a mixture of pity and sympathy and encouragement and say "You're so lucky, this has been SUCH a mild winter"....which I heard as many times as I heard "What-ever made you move from LA to DC??"..ah, yes, that million dollar question.
Well, that was January and February. Then came March. Then we had the snowstorm. Then there were the cold winds. Then there were the sub-zero temperatures. Spring? Think again, my friends. These were the times when I could so vividly picture in my mind warm, really warm, almost hot LA and Orange County, and wearing my shorts and T-shirt and flip-flops...walking on the warm sands of the beaches, the breeze in my face, the tan on my skin....and NOT shivering everytime I step out of the car, not having to run from the car into a building, and not have to layer up all the damn time.
Ok, I'm a drama queen...I know that. But really, is this fun? No, I dont think so. "Youre lucky", people said. "Such a mild winter, this..". Oh really? Great, I feel so lucky, I cant stop shivering.
Round One: Do I even need to spell it out? Its LA by a wide, wholloping shot.
I got out at Dulles, DC and expected a blizzard. I was wrong. No raging snowstorm, no bone-chilling winds. Days passed, temperatures were low, mind you...much lower than the sunny land I had left behind, but still, it was not the weather shock I had been warned about. Weeks pass, no snow, and I look questioningly about at the people who are the veterans of winter weather, these East_Coastans, and they look at me with a mixture of pity and sympathy and encouragement and say "You're so lucky, this has been SUCH a mild winter"....which I heard as many times as I heard "What-ever made you move from LA to DC??"..ah, yes, that million dollar question.
Well, that was January and February. Then came March. Then we had the snowstorm. Then there were the cold winds. Then there were the sub-zero temperatures. Spring? Think again, my friends. These were the times when I could so vividly picture in my mind warm, really warm, almost hot LA and Orange County, and wearing my shorts and T-shirt and flip-flops...walking on the warm sands of the beaches, the breeze in my face, the tan on my skin....and NOT shivering everytime I step out of the car, not having to run from the car into a building, and not have to layer up all the damn time.
Ok, I'm a drama queen...I know that. But really, is this fun? No, I dont think so. "Youre lucky", people said. "Such a mild winter, this..". Oh really? Great, I feel so lucky, I cant stop shivering.
Round One: Do I even need to spell it out? Its LA by a wide, wholloping shot.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
This Blogging Bit
This Blogging bit boggles the brain. The question I am grappling with currently is why it is so difficult to keep this up. At this point, I do a quick re-cap:
Rate at which I start to write a blog: once in 3 months
Rate at which I complete writing a blog: once in 4 months (ha! now you calculate how this is possible!)
Rate at which I remember that I have a blog: Once in a blue moon
:(((((((((
Sad....really and truly sad. My claim to be a part-time writer, my so-called passion for the written word, the dictum I stand by that the pen is mightier than the sword....all blown to pieces by hard evidence of how I maintain my Blog site.
I remember the enthu with which I started this. For days, I thought of the Blog title. For weeks I worked on the page format. For months I worked on my opening statements. Then something got in the way. It was called Life. Yes, and it included this and that, and that and this, and my poor blog site got pushed to the back of my brain, and to the back of my browser cache.
I struggle to make sense of this apparent contradiction. On the one hand, I love to write. I know this for a true-blue fact. I am particularly good with the creative word and how to express thoughts in my mind on paper, or on the keyboard. I have access to my computer, I have thoughts (never-ending, I might add), and writing lets me release positive energy. And yet, this poor blog site is called upon once in a blue moon.
Which brings me back to the concept of Blogging. Is it a fad that is then on it's way out? Is it a platform for personal expression, or a link to be sent for circulation? Is it a way to let the world know that you can write, or is it a means to make a statement on anything and everything? Am I already bored with this blogging bit?
Upon reflection, the answer to that is "no". I am not done here yet. I feel very much like quoting Robert Frost who said famously, "I have miles to go before I sleep, I have miles to go before I sleep". I guess I have many more thoughts, experiences, perceptions and opinions to ink. It might be intermittent, it might be once in a blue moon, but guess what, the blog belongs to me! Which means I can do with it as I please.
Upon further reflection, I realize that this is exactly what happens to me everytime (which is once in a blue moon) that I log in to my blog site. I see the depressingly short list of blogs, and I am energized out of my writing inertia to add another blog. Then I'm gone for weeks...what is this mystery then (is it writer's block? Ha! Fat chance)...?
Until I figure that out, I ask whoever is gracious enough to visit this blog site to put up with this beleagured blogger who has bungled this boggling blogging bit....for the moment. And many thanks! :)
Rate at which I start to write a blog: once in 3 months
Rate at which I complete writing a blog: once in 4 months (ha! now you calculate how this is possible!)
Rate at which I remember that I have a blog: Once in a blue moon
:(((((((((
Sad....really and truly sad. My claim to be a part-time writer, my so-called passion for the written word, the dictum I stand by that the pen is mightier than the sword....all blown to pieces by hard evidence of how I maintain my Blog site.
I remember the enthu with which I started this. For days, I thought of the Blog title. For weeks I worked on the page format. For months I worked on my opening statements. Then something got in the way. It was called Life. Yes, and it included this and that, and that and this, and my poor blog site got pushed to the back of my brain, and to the back of my browser cache.
I struggle to make sense of this apparent contradiction. On the one hand, I love to write. I know this for a true-blue fact. I am particularly good with the creative word and how to express thoughts in my mind on paper, or on the keyboard. I have access to my computer, I have thoughts (never-ending, I might add), and writing lets me release positive energy. And yet, this poor blog site is called upon once in a blue moon.
Which brings me back to the concept of Blogging. Is it a fad that is then on it's way out? Is it a platform for personal expression, or a link to be sent for circulation? Is it a way to let the world know that you can write, or is it a means to make a statement on anything and everything? Am I already bored with this blogging bit?
Upon reflection, the answer to that is "no". I am not done here yet. I feel very much like quoting Robert Frost who said famously, "I have miles to go before I sleep, I have miles to go before I sleep". I guess I have many more thoughts, experiences, perceptions and opinions to ink. It might be intermittent, it might be once in a blue moon, but guess what, the blog belongs to me! Which means I can do with it as I please.
Upon further reflection, I realize that this is exactly what happens to me everytime (which is once in a blue moon) that I log in to my blog site. I see the depressingly short list of blogs, and I am energized out of my writing inertia to add another blog. Then I'm gone for weeks...what is this mystery then (is it writer's block? Ha! Fat chance)...?
Until I figure that out, I ask whoever is gracious enough to visit this blog site to put up with this beleagured blogger who has bungled this boggling blogging bit....for the moment. And many thanks! :)
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Raging Rajani & Loquacious Leela
This is an ode to those colorful characters whom I recently happened to remember...those stalwarts of South Indian cinema, who have, over the many many years, provided more entertainment to the masses (including the likes of us "elites") than they have been given due credit for....so, I decided, these guys deserve a bit of ink...even as I recall them and their antics with fondness (?), a certain heightening of my senses, and yes, laughter...plenty of laughter.
A friend sent me a link to a Kannada song website which triggered it all off..a link to a song that went as follows...(Here, you have to really get into trying to sing a Kannada song with English lyrics with a Kannada accent)..."Life is a merrrrrrrrrrrry mellloddy.......life is a haaaaanting rhapsody....". I have to admit I didn't get past those two lines...it was a different matter that the lyrics were really quite indecipherable, but I was busy rolling on the ground laughing my head off...
But once I scrambled back onto my chair, and wiped off the tears, I scrolled through the rest of the movie list, and saw some classics...."Prema Loka" was one such....and when I clicked on "Nodamma hudugi, kelamma sariyagi"....I could visualize Juhi Chawla, in her white mini-skirt...the hot new babe in college...and Ravi Chandran, the college rowdy-to-turn-irresistible-hero, with his bee-hive hairdo, tight white pants, and the smouldering look...singing "hosa hudugi antha bidtheeni, naale indha nodkoltheeni, underrrrstaaand?"....what a hoot!
The other character who deserves an honorable mention here is Vishnu Vardhan...who as far as I remember always, always had a paunch, wore white pants and matching white shoes, and a lock of hair falling over his forehead...
Hailing from Bangalore and not including Lingo Leela of the Radio City fame would be unacceptable, so here is my toast to "Colloquial Class with Miss Lingo Leela". Excerpts...
"Wellcome to calloquial class. Today's word of the day yis.."Jing-Jak". Yit myeans to suggest ye bright multi-colored blinding yand gaady piece of clothing. For yegzample, " Rajeshwari, yene neenu langa dhawani haakondu olle jing-jak aagi bandhidya". Myeans, "Ey Rajeshwari, what man, you have worn ye haalf saari and are looking draap-dead gaargeous, like ye baambshell".
But the high-point of this ode is to none other than the (in)famous RajaniKanth...who is next only to God in million's of people's eyes, I'm told. My picturization of RajaniKanth is of a guy with black baggy pants, white keds, sleeveless, red vest (banyan), unruly hair, cigarette in mouth (of course), and loads and loads of attitude. Do I need to go into his famed stunts (watch out James Bond), unparalleled in Indian Cinema (except maybe by Mithun Chakravorty...no...for sure Mithun comes a possible second...Rajani RULES)...
Imagine if all movie stars looked and behaved like Tom Cruise or Shah Rukh Khan...how boring. What would life be without these colorful characters, so much a part of our childhood memories...
I'm so glad that we got to witness these characters (in moderation, thank God), so that now, years later....we can send emails, reminisce, laugh, and have a happy moment.
A friend sent me a link to a Kannada song website which triggered it all off..a link to a song that went as follows...(Here, you have to really get into trying to sing a Kannada song with English lyrics with a Kannada accent)..."Life is a merrrrrrrrrrrry mellloddy.......life is a haaaaanting rhapsody....". I have to admit I didn't get past those two lines...it was a different matter that the lyrics were really quite indecipherable, but I was busy rolling on the ground laughing my head off...
But once I scrambled back onto my chair, and wiped off the tears, I scrolled through the rest of the movie list, and saw some classics...."Prema Loka" was one such....and when I clicked on "Nodamma hudugi, kelamma sariyagi"....I could visualize Juhi Chawla, in her white mini-skirt...the hot new babe in college...and Ravi Chandran, the college rowdy-to-turn-irresistible-hero, with his bee-hive hairdo, tight white pants, and the smouldering look...singing "hosa hudugi antha bidtheeni, naale indha nodkoltheeni, underrrrstaaand?"....what a hoot!
The other character who deserves an honorable mention here is Vishnu Vardhan...who as far as I remember always, always had a paunch, wore white pants and matching white shoes, and a lock of hair falling over his forehead...
Hailing from Bangalore and not including Lingo Leela of the Radio City fame would be unacceptable, so here is my toast to "Colloquial Class with Miss Lingo Leela". Excerpts...
"Wellcome to calloquial class. Today's word of the day yis.."Jing-Jak". Yit myeans to suggest ye bright multi-colored blinding yand gaady piece of clothing. For yegzample, " Rajeshwari, yene neenu langa dhawani haakondu olle jing-jak aagi bandhidya". Myeans, "Ey Rajeshwari, what man, you have worn ye haalf saari and are looking draap-dead gaargeous, like ye baambshell".
But the high-point of this ode is to none other than the (in)famous RajaniKanth...who is next only to God in million's of people's eyes, I'm told. My picturization of RajaniKanth is of a guy with black baggy pants, white keds, sleeveless, red vest (banyan), unruly hair, cigarette in mouth (of course), and loads and loads of attitude. Do I need to go into his famed stunts (watch out James Bond), unparalleled in Indian Cinema (except maybe by Mithun Chakravorty...no...for sure Mithun comes a possible second...Rajani RULES)...
Imagine if all movie stars looked and behaved like Tom Cruise or Shah Rukh Khan...how boring. What would life be without these colorful characters, so much a part of our childhood memories...
I'm so glad that we got to witness these characters (in moderation, thank God), so that now, years later....we can send emails, reminisce, laugh, and have a happy moment.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Summer in SoCal
The weekend was here, and all we wanted to do was get away and de-stress and do something fun. So off we headed to La Jolla, San Diego. We were told of famous sea caves there where kayaking was supposedly a pretty amazing experience. So, water-sport buffs that we are, decided to take the plunge.
The first evening we spent driving around San Diego, from the beautiful Coronado Island to the "historic" Gas Lamp District. It never ceases to amuse me the way Americans call something about 75 years old "historic". Being Indian, and having seen places and things in India that are thousands and thousands of years old, so incredibly beautiful in their seeming timelessness, I am amazed at how short history is to Americans...in any case, the "historic" Gas Lamp district has buildings that are not the regular modern-day concrete monsters, but well...."historic" in the sense of having architecture about 100 years old...and of course, a few lamps on street corners that run on gas (hence the name). So much for that.
The next day we headed on to La Jolla, which is truly a beautiful place. Of course, we went there on a beautiful day, warm and sunny, clear skies which made the ocean look bluer and more inviting. Soon, we were on a kayak together, paddling through what seemed to be an amazingly calm ocean....just like a giant, endless swimming pool. We paddled, and paddled and paddled...and saw the sea caves...waves lashing onto cave openings that looked so dark, and mysterious and inviting...but we had strict instructions not to venture close to the cave openings, so we had to be satisfied with looking from a small distance...still a magnificent sight...layers of the cave surfaces proof of hundreds of years of erosion, and beautiful cave formations...and of course we saw sea lions...almost blended into the background of the cliffs....lying around soaking up the sun, not a care in the world...their only worry seemed to be that they had to share the rocks with the pelicans...thousands of them.
We paddled some more, and in the distance saw a couple of dolphins....only fleeting glimpses, but enough cause for excitement. Then, we came to the tiger sharks....so many of them! And so close to the sea shore....they were right there, swimming beneath our kayaks...slick creatures with tiger stripes on their bodies...supposedly harmless. I experienced a moment of panicky doubt...what if they were actually not THAT harm-less and what if the crashing waves overturned my kayak, and what if I suddenly found myself swimming amongst the sharkies...before my wild imagination ruined my confidence, I paddled furiously away from the spot into deeper and more safer (in my mind) waters...in any case...some other sightings included a huge brilliantly pink and red jelly fish (beautiful creature), and sea lions propped up on buoys in the middle of the ocean, taking a break from swimming around. And of course, we were sharing the ocean with human swimmers who seemed to be swimming miles and miles in deep sea. Admirable stamina.
All in all, a great trip, a dose of blue water, warm sands and a sun-drenched kayaking stint testament to the famous Southern California experience! Comes highly recommended by this fan of the ocean.
The first evening we spent driving around San Diego, from the beautiful Coronado Island to the "historic" Gas Lamp District. It never ceases to amuse me the way Americans call something about 75 years old "historic". Being Indian, and having seen places and things in India that are thousands and thousands of years old, so incredibly beautiful in their seeming timelessness, I am amazed at how short history is to Americans...in any case, the "historic" Gas Lamp district has buildings that are not the regular modern-day concrete monsters, but well...."historic" in the sense of having architecture about 100 years old...and of course, a few lamps on street corners that run on gas (hence the name). So much for that.
The next day we headed on to La Jolla, which is truly a beautiful place. Of course, we went there on a beautiful day, warm and sunny, clear skies which made the ocean look bluer and more inviting. Soon, we were on a kayak together, paddling through what seemed to be an amazingly calm ocean....just like a giant, endless swimming pool. We paddled, and paddled and paddled...and saw the sea caves...waves lashing onto cave openings that looked so dark, and mysterious and inviting...but we had strict instructions not to venture close to the cave openings, so we had to be satisfied with looking from a small distance...still a magnificent sight...layers of the cave surfaces proof of hundreds of years of erosion, and beautiful cave formations...and of course we saw sea lions...almost blended into the background of the cliffs....lying around soaking up the sun, not a care in the world...their only worry seemed to be that they had to share the rocks with the pelicans...thousands of them.
We paddled some more, and in the distance saw a couple of dolphins....only fleeting glimpses, but enough cause for excitement. Then, we came to the tiger sharks....so many of them! And so close to the sea shore....they were right there, swimming beneath our kayaks...slick creatures with tiger stripes on their bodies...supposedly harmless. I experienced a moment of panicky doubt...what if they were actually not THAT harm-less and what if the crashing waves overturned my kayak, and what if I suddenly found myself swimming amongst the sharkies...before my wild imagination ruined my confidence, I paddled furiously away from the spot into deeper and more safer (in my mind) waters...in any case...some other sightings included a huge brilliantly pink and red jelly fish (beautiful creature), and sea lions propped up on buoys in the middle of the ocean, taking a break from swimming around. And of course, we were sharing the ocean with human swimmers who seemed to be swimming miles and miles in deep sea. Admirable stamina.
All in all, a great trip, a dose of blue water, warm sands and a sun-drenched kayaking stint testament to the famous Southern California experience! Comes highly recommended by this fan of the ocean.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
The Tale of The Orange Thief
The still air, the quiet of the surrounding wilderness and the tangy scent of oranges that tantalized the senses were all deceptive decoys in the drama that was about to unfold....
The Place: Santiago Oaks Regional Park, Orange (get it?) County...
The Time: Mid-afternoon...on a "normal" December day...
The Crime: ....Grand Theft...giving the Law the Slip...
The Climax: The perp (hero?) takes a quick stealthy look around to see if anyone is watching, and speedily but deftly lunges for the juiciest (although not largest) orange hanging on the tree....the perp turns around....orange in hand....runs towards the car.....but wait...a fence separates him and the car(where his accomplice waits with baited breath...will he? wont he? will he....)....but no problemo....our muscular, athletic and ever-agile hero leaps high into the air....leg 'one' clears the top of the fence with insulting ease....leg 'two'...well, leg 'two' almost makes it....the heel catches the end of the fence....but at the precise instant, the Gods are smiling on the hero...and he clears the fence and...(clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)....
Ok, back up, back up, back up.....where were we? Oh, yes....it all started one day in December when two people....we'll name them Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-Dee...no, I'm just kidding.....ok, we'll name them Drake and Duck.....allright, allright.....we'll name them G and P (the exact reason for this is beyond the scope of this story)....anyway, so G and P decide not to waste a really lovely afternoon and head for the hills, with the aid of a hiker's guide-book....
They arrive at Santiago Oaks Regional Park, and discover that it is virtually uninhabited....not a soul around, or almost...(the reader is asked, at this point, to make a mental note of this piece of information as the striking irony of it will be revealed towards the end of the tale)...well, both G and P not being one of those we-like-crowds-baby kind of people are quite at ease with this situation, and park the automobile and get out to discover very serene surroundings....a really well maintained and beautifully kept park....plenty of flora...including very pretty flowering and non-flowering trees, and big trees and small trees...and tall trees and short trees..and....ah-em...orange trees...thats right....around the car park area was a fenced off region that housed scores of orange trees....and whats more, these trees had tonnes and tonnes and tonnes of brightly colored (orange) oranges hanging on them....
To continue the saga….G and P both feel that it would be nice to have an orange…after all, they were SO within reach….but suddenly, they spot a prominent sign that says “Picking of oranges NOT allowed”….okay, no problem, we are after all law-abiding citizens, and we do not indulge in that sort of behavior….so off go G and P on the hike….
Hikety hike, hikety hike…..climb up, climb down…walk, run, huff and puff…..a pretty neat work out….feels really good….
Back to the parking area a couple of hours later…..almost in the automobile….but wait….P’s eye catches the orange orchard….sweat dripping from face, throat parched from thirst….and P gives G the look…..BOY…..wont an orange…a juicy orange feel really really good right now?? Ok, so P convinces G to take the plunge, cross the fence and pick an orange…G agrees….after all, the place is deserted, and what harm can one little orange really do…..?? So G proceeds calmly towards the orange tree, and is all set to climb the fence…..suddenly there is a frantic shout from P….”Come back! Come back! The Park ranger is here! The park ranger is here! Come BACK!”….panic, desperation, and terror in his voice, P is racing back towards the car…..G looks back at him, and sees the sheer terror written all over his face….she looks beyond him…sure enough a pick up is driving up the parkway….and sure enough it was the park ranger…..so G bends down and pretends to be tying her shoe laces….uh-huh…not stealing oranges, but tying shoe-laces….extremely innocent…..nothing to worry about…..
Park-ranger drives on towards the building…..barely giving G and P a glance…see, nothing to worry about????…anyway, G decides she’s had enough of this game and its time to go home….and gets into the automobile…..where’s P….ok, folks, guess what? P is now suddenly charged with courage and determination…..defiant in the wake of authority, P has decided to do the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the unheard of…..steal an orange from the orange tree.
G is skeptical, she doesn’t think that P has it in him…..she’d much rather get into the car and get out of there and go on home…but no, siree, no…..P’s mind is made up….he is getting that orange, if it’s the darned last thing he ever does!!!
So, we’re back where we started…. The perp (hero?) takes a quick stealthy look around to see if anyone is watching, and speedily but deftly lunges for the juiciest (although not largest) orange hanging on the tree....the perp turns around....orange in hand....runs towards the car.....but wait...a fence separates him and the car(where his accomplice waits with baited breath...will he? wont he? will he....)....but no problemo....our muscular, athletic and ever-agile hero leaps high into the air....leg 'one' clears the top of the fence with insulting ease....leg 'two'...well, leg 'two' almost makes it....the heel catches the end of the fence....but at the precise instant, the Gods are smiling on the hero...and he clears the fence and...(clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)....
BUT WAIT….suddenly, we hear another engine revving up…and what do we see? The park ranger has reversed the truck and is coming towards us….that’s it, P needs no telling. Fear is written loud and clear in every pore of his being….he starts the car and skids into drive….and ZOOMS out of there….looking fervently into the rearview mirror…is the park ranger following him..?? He steps on the gas….faster and faster….the car zips out of the park, obviously violating the speed limit, onto the road back home…..P relaxes only when he is sure that nobody is following him, nobody is going to stop him, charge him with grand theft, and send him to prison…..
P looks at G with a sheepish grin. G is dying of laughter…and in her hand is the spoils of P’s brave endeavor….a single out of shape, bruised, not-so-orange orange….and G laughed all the way back home….!
Based on a true incident....
The Place: Santiago Oaks Regional Park, Orange (get it?) County...
The Time: Mid-afternoon...on a "normal" December day...
The Crime: ....Grand Theft...giving the Law the Slip...
The Climax: The perp (hero?) takes a quick stealthy look around to see if anyone is watching, and speedily but deftly lunges for the juiciest (although not largest) orange hanging on the tree....the perp turns around....orange in hand....runs towards the car.....but wait...a fence separates him and the car(where his accomplice waits with baited breath...will he? wont he? will he....)....but no problemo....our muscular, athletic and ever-agile hero leaps high into the air....leg 'one' clears the top of the fence with insulting ease....leg 'two'...well, leg 'two' almost makes it....the heel catches the end of the fence....but at the precise instant, the Gods are smiling on the hero...and he clears the fence and...(clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)....
Ok, back up, back up, back up.....where were we? Oh, yes....it all started one day in December when two people....we'll name them Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-Dee...no, I'm just kidding.....ok, we'll name them Drake and Duck.....allright, allright.....we'll name them G and P (the exact reason for this is beyond the scope of this story)....anyway, so G and P decide not to waste a really lovely afternoon and head for the hills, with the aid of a hiker's guide-book....
They arrive at Santiago Oaks Regional Park, and discover that it is virtually uninhabited....not a soul around, or almost...(the reader is asked, at this point, to make a mental note of this piece of information as the striking irony of it will be revealed towards the end of the tale)...well, both G and P not being one of those we-like-crowds-baby kind of people are quite at ease with this situation, and park the automobile and get out to discover very serene surroundings....a really well maintained and beautifully kept park....plenty of flora...including very pretty flowering and non-flowering trees, and big trees and small trees...and tall trees and short trees..and....ah-em...orange trees...thats right....around the car park area was a fenced off region that housed scores of orange trees....and whats more, these trees had tonnes and tonnes and tonnes of brightly colored (orange) oranges hanging on them....
To continue the saga….G and P both feel that it would be nice to have an orange…after all, they were SO within reach….but suddenly, they spot a prominent sign that says “Picking of oranges NOT allowed”….okay, no problem, we are after all law-abiding citizens, and we do not indulge in that sort of behavior….so off go G and P on the hike….
Hikety hike, hikety hike…..climb up, climb down…walk, run, huff and puff…..a pretty neat work out….feels really good….
Back to the parking area a couple of hours later…..almost in the automobile….but wait….P’s eye catches the orange orchard….sweat dripping from face, throat parched from thirst….and P gives G the look…..BOY…..wont an orange…a juicy orange feel really really good right now?? Ok, so P convinces G to take the plunge, cross the fence and pick an orange…G agrees….after all, the place is deserted, and what harm can one little orange really do…..?? So G proceeds calmly towards the orange tree, and is all set to climb the fence…..suddenly there is a frantic shout from P….”Come back! Come back! The Park ranger is here! The park ranger is here! Come BACK!”….panic, desperation, and terror in his voice, P is racing back towards the car…..G looks back at him, and sees the sheer terror written all over his face….she looks beyond him…sure enough a pick up is driving up the parkway….and sure enough it was the park ranger…..so G bends down and pretends to be tying her shoe laces….uh-huh…not stealing oranges, but tying shoe-laces….extremely innocent…..nothing to worry about…..
Park-ranger drives on towards the building…..barely giving G and P a glance…see, nothing to worry about????…anyway, G decides she’s had enough of this game and its time to go home….and gets into the automobile…..where’s P….ok, folks, guess what? P is now suddenly charged with courage and determination…..defiant in the wake of authority, P has decided to do the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the unheard of…..steal an orange from the orange tree.
G is skeptical, she doesn’t think that P has it in him…..she’d much rather get into the car and get out of there and go on home…but no, siree, no…..P’s mind is made up….he is getting that orange, if it’s the darned last thing he ever does!!!
So, we’re back where we started…. The perp (hero?) takes a quick stealthy look around to see if anyone is watching, and speedily but deftly lunges for the juiciest (although not largest) orange hanging on the tree....the perp turns around....orange in hand....runs towards the car.....but wait...a fence separates him and the car(where his accomplice waits with baited breath...will he? wont he? will he....)....but no problemo....our muscular, athletic and ever-agile hero leaps high into the air....leg 'one' clears the top of the fence with insulting ease....leg 'two'...well, leg 'two' almost makes it....the heel catches the end of the fence....but at the precise instant, the Gods are smiling on the hero...and he clears the fence and...(clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)....
BUT WAIT….suddenly, we hear another engine revving up…and what do we see? The park ranger has reversed the truck and is coming towards us….that’s it, P needs no telling. Fear is written loud and clear in every pore of his being….he starts the car and skids into drive….and ZOOMS out of there….looking fervently into the rearview mirror…is the park ranger following him..?? He steps on the gas….faster and faster….the car zips out of the park, obviously violating the speed limit, onto the road back home…..P relaxes only when he is sure that nobody is following him, nobody is going to stop him, charge him with grand theft, and send him to prison…..
P looks at G with a sheepish grin. G is dying of laughter…and in her hand is the spoils of P’s brave endeavor….a single out of shape, bruised, not-so-orange orange….and G laughed all the way back home….!
Based on a true incident....
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