U-n-I- Verse

The Surprise

2009-04-16T21:16:00.004+05:30

The shrill alarm spliced the serene silence of the dawn. Though I had hit the bed only a couple of hours ago, I felt the urge to part my eyelids and abandon my soothing bed. Weighed down with fatigue, I slowly lifted myself and headed to the balcony to catch a glimpse of the rising sun. As I waded across the room littered with clothes, I caught a glimpse of the clock. On the black background, I could see bright green numbers on the clock indicating 5:45 AM. The first rays of the sun had not yet banished the thick fog clobbering my vision from the fourth floor balcony.
I lived on the highway that connected Bangalore with the smaller cities of Tamil Nadu. Buses dropping off passengers early in the day was a routine in this part of the city. In fact, this usually was the busiest part of the day. From the top, I could see diligent auto rickshaw drivers swooping down on drowsy passengers disembarking from the buses. There were little children running around, trying to sell small cups of chai.
However, today seemed to be awfully quiet. A couple of buses stopped, some people got down, and the buses sped away. Her father was not among them. I would have to wait for some more time. She had called me up last night to tell me that her father would be in town and I had to play host. Her tone made me hope that she was also planning to come down and surprise me. Three more buses and I was already feeling my torso resting on the balcony wall, begging to be let loose.
The sun was starting to peep through the trees in the horizon. Just then, a bus passed. It halted a little ahead of the actual stop. An elderly man alighted, and the bus started to speed up. I rubbed my eyes hoping to see a beautiful angel emerge out of the cloud of fog. Nothing happened. A few steps later, the elderly man waved in my direction. I was too numb to react. Just then, I felt a delicate hand on my shoulder. She was standing behind me, waving back to her dad.
I turned back to see the first rays of the sun cajoling her bright face. A couple of years ago, the occasion was the same; she was standing down there with her father, as a surprise....I don't know what I miss more; her, or her surprises...

Songs...

2008-10-09T19:35:00.004+05:30

Munbe vaa en anbe vaa (Tamil) | Record Online

ThoothU Varuma (Tamil) | Record Online

Nila Kaykirathu I(Tamil) | Record Online

Porkalam ange (Tamil) | Record Online

Private Emotion (English) | Record Online

Whats in a name ?

2008-07-28T19:34:00.002+05:30

The new day was ready to be born, but we had not reached any conclusion. I know that this was too big a news for him, but that did not mean that he upset my sleep. His software industry allows him the luxury of flexible timings, but I hate to skip my appointment with the patients.
I had broken the news of me being pregnant to my hubby a couple of hours ago. It was chaos since then. He had started to make a list of "tasks" he needed to complete to transition from an carefree husband to a responsible father. He started with the list of toys, food items, but it was the name of our baby that stopped his pace.
We had spoken about it a lot, but neither of us had really decided on the actual name. "Naming the baby after the grandparents would give him an old name. The baby should not be named after someone infamous, that would embarrass the baby", my hubby chimed on. There seemed to be no stop to his logical analysis. "When I name variables in my code after so much thought, should my baby not have the best of the names ? ", he asked.
He said that the name should not be on the start of the alphabet. If we did that, the baby would have trouble attending all tests and viva exams first. If the name starts with something towards the end, that would be a problem too. When the baby grows up, and attends practical exams, his batch would be the last, leaving it alone. What if the baby grows up and migrates to the US ? The name should be easy for the foreigners also. But if it is too foreign, he may not make any Indian friends in the college. Also, the name should not rhyme with anything offensive, lest its friends have that as a reason for teasing. It should also not be named after a famous person, what if the baby also gets famous; people would get confused. The name should not be common, our baby was special after all. The name should not be too long that it gets tedious to type it, it should not be so short that it would not deserve any respect.
His barrage of reasons was getting unbearable. I always best new that a dentist and a software engineer were most compatible professions; there have been times when this geek got onto my nerves. To end it, I did what I always do....I looked him into his eyes, gave him a smile, slowly kissed him and said, "If it is a girl, is would be saanvi, for a boy, it would be vinay". He meekly surrendered and I heard him mutter...."whats in a name ? " ....

A few Quotes

2008-07-28T11:21:00.001+05:30

wat do u say abt a guy who rocks ur world? to a guy who is everything to u? to a guy whose voice u long for ..? whose hug takes away every fear in ur heart? whose anger makes u cringe? whose happiness u rejoice? Just wat in the world do u write abt a guy.. who keeps ur heart so safe and happy with him?? Sriram .. i have only three words for u .. three words, that i try to contain my feelings abt u in .. I Love You .. :)

A classic, "princess in distress.. brave warrior to the rescue" story..

my dearest sriram..
unconventional.

unpretentious, fun to be with.. the coolest geek.. the sweetest guy..
tender secrets.. sweet gentle love.. goofy jokes and fiery fights.. Life has been all that i wanted it to be.. ever since u came into my life..
and wonder of wonders.. i , for once, find it hard to put in words , how i feel about u..

love u .. and looking forward to the rest of my life.. with u.. :)

My New Bike !!

2008-07-08T19:38:00.000+05:30

Someone stole my bicycle, so got a new bike

Jiving at RSA Day

2008-06-09T18:57:00.002+05:30

I tried my hand at dancing, and here is the video where I was jiving at a function recently

Just another kill

2008-05-29T06:50:00.003+05:30

"Insecurity is not a feeling, its an epidemic. It was not about the roadside romeos taunting me, my boss harassing me sexually, or even my boyfriend dumping me, it was about the growing sense of discomfort in the neighborhood. For a young woman like me, life had shoved its share of problems, but the menace at hand seemed to overtower them all. This was the third killing in a row, the killer was obviously psychotic. The victims were young couples, all murdered when they were desperately trying to have some time away from civilization. As is pertains to the neighborhood, the suspects could be...."
Even as this speech was trailing to its end, I could not help notice him checking me out.
He had just been forced to move in from the city, and the country had already given him a taste of its ruggedness. A freak accident and he had been grounded. Since he was my neighbor, and was cute, I kept him company through the day. With the murders in the locality increasing, we had atleast something to discuss about.
Since the time we had started 'investigating' the matter, we had made a lot of progress. With his high power binoculars and handy-cam from the city, we now had the capability of keeping an eye on the neighborhood. Whether it was the banker cheating on his wife, or the milkman stealing vegetables off my garden, everything was now under our scanner. The one thing that seemed peculiar though was the behavior of the octogenarian living next door. He had moved in after his wife had passed away; nearly the same time when the killings had started. I do no mean to imply anything, but the activities of this person were suspicious. Frequently digging his garden, shopping for unreasonably huge plastic bags, or smelling of spirit all the time, we needed something more juicy. The motive could be made up -'since he had lost his wife, he killed everyone who was in love, out of jealousy ! '.
With the dusk falling, he asked me again if I could 'smuggle' him to the railway station. His friend was visiting him and his parents would not like him moving around. His cute look made me relent, and I supported him and dumped his wasted body into my old car. "We were together most of the time, and the serial killer could misunderstand us to be a couple" - the very thought was as cold as his arm around my shoulder.
We arrived at the railway station and I helped him into his crutches. The train stopped. A pretty damsel disembarked and headed straight to us. It was his friend, but it looked like there was something more between them. Picking up her luggage, I helped both of them into the rear of the car. The instant we started rolling, they started cuddling, unable to keep their hands off each other. I could see it all in the rear-view mirror, and it was a cute scene. I handed them some 'scented' snacks to indicate that they atleast keep their lips apart.
Suddenly, the road seemed to end and I noticed a tree blocking the path. I looked back for help, and found that they were fast asleep in each others arms. Well, I was alone, and I had to do it alone. It was dark and I could feel my hand shivering. I looked at them again, for one last time before I got out of the car, onto the chilling road. The way they snuggled, they innocence on his face, the love on hers, it all looked so perfect.
But I always was jealous to see how couples were so happy with each other, forgeting the pains of the world. It is a pity that I have to kill them......

The fine line

2008-04-09T03:30:00.001+05:30

"Among the million suitors out there for the fair maiden, only knight shall strike a chord in the heart of the delicate princess." - I never believed in this crap. To me, life was always a means to find logical answers to questions whose variables were unknown. With a charm as rough as this and an attitude even rougher, I was juggling my days as a bachelor. It was not that I was not interested in getting into a relationship, it was just that I was trying to find the logical reason to the entire process. Needless to say, I was repelling all women who neared me, tricked by that innocent look.
Anyways, I was not sure if I had any time to entertains girls at this time of my life. Guys of my age were already making millions of the internet, and I had always considered this a time when I could direct all my energy to becoming famous. I had also written a couple of websites in that attempt, but nothing seemed to work. I even tried advertising them on a lot of my people networks.
That was when she made her first contact. She told me that the idea was cool and that people would like it. But who cared about the idea, her display picture looked awesome and I was desperate to continue to talk to her. After trying to cook up a couple of ideas, all I could do was send her a silly "thanks". Though I had concluded that it was the end of it, she did come back with some bright ideas to make the site better. So here I had, a pretty looking girl, who doubled it up with her intelligence. There was no way I was gonna let her go, and pinged her on her instant messenger. More of small talk (small talk as in the phrase, not the computer language), and I finally took the bold step. I asked her for the number. I can authoritatively say that this was the single biggest mistake of my life. It was not about asking her number, but the way I did it. My pickup line was horrible, I wanted to compliment her on her beauty or intelligence or atleast something, and then tell her that we could catch up over phone. However, all I could blurt out wsa that I did not trust that a real person like her could exist, some friend was playing a trick on me, and that I could verify it if I heard her voice .
I am sure she was at cross roads. Would she give her phone number to a guy who tried such a pickup line? Well, as a matter of fact, all she could do is use ananymous internet based calling systems ! How could me listening to her voice logically prove that she was a real girl ? May be it was a friend who got someone to talk to me. Luckily for me, she did not consider all this, all she did was give out her phone number to an innocent mumbling geek. She thought it was cute!!
That was 2 months ago. Today, she is my world, my reason to exist. She is my love, my life, my light. Honey, I love u.
Well, as for the pickup line, I am planning to give it another try. How about something like ?
Men are from Mars, women are from Venus, but geeks ? They are from Tatooine! .. so you wanna tour of the planet that could exist in a different space time dimension .....

:(......sic.....sigh....i need to think of something better......if i dont wanna get teased for the rest of my life !! :)

And they lived happily ever after... II

2008-02-17T16:07:00.001+05:30

The Princess stood by the pond looking at the frogs.. She had woken with a feeling in her heart.. a feeling she could not shake away.. As she turned, she noticed the beautiful horse.. as she neared it, she sensed he was trying to tell her something.. The princess, brave at heart, noble in mind.. and ofcourse, always ready for adventure, climbed up the horse and he charged westwards.. The Princess clung to him tightly, wondering where he was taking her.. Even as she rode she was still thinking about the frogs and how she was taken in believing in her fairy tales.. She suddenly noticed that she was in a part of the country, she hadn’t visited before. She watched as the horse came to a halt before a huge castle.. “a ruin and a shame”, she decided, wrinkling her nose. Should she go in? oh la.. It was her country after all.. She walked into the castle, calling out. The witch was out, and the lovely princess walked about. She had a feeling of sadness, a heaviness in her heart, she didn’t understand. As she reached a stairwell, she heard the sound. The sound of a wounded soul.. an unintentional gasp of pain.. As she called out, the sound stopped. The Princess walked further down and stopped in her tracks, as she came face to face with a man in so much pain. The wounds on his body looked healed.. but the cry of pain , she heard……
The warrior, stood, unsteady on his feet.. It was the face he had dreamed of.. He knew that.. a damsel , alright.. But he was the one in distress.. The Princess looked at him with deep wisdom. The strong demeanor outside.. The deep hurt inside.. Her heart went out to him.. “Come”, she said, giving her his hand.. This was not correct, the warrior thought.. shaking his head. He wondered if the Princess was real.. He wondered if the princess was trying to save him while he was the warrior.. .. He wondered why he heard bells.. He wondered why the angels were singing.. As he walked, he realised he was out of the castle.. His curses did not bind anymore.. As he stumbled out his hand in hers, the witch saw him.. and his precious Princess.. She ran at them, her hair flying. Dagger drawn.. aiming to kill the princess.. for daring to steal her servant.. The warrior smiled lazily.. He could hardly believe, he had been devoted to her for so long.. He drew his sword and drove it into the witch.. with almost a careless flick of his sword.. He took his princess’ hand and walked to his horse.. They climbed on and the Warrior kissed her gently.. washing away years of pain.. years of hurt, anger.. most of all washing away the crushing emptiness.. the kiss they shared, filled them up with happiness.. completed them.. He had tried to believe the witch was his destined one.. he had lived in agony, trusting that one day she’ll turn into a princess. He had atlast learnt the lesson his lovely princess had learnt sometime earlier.. No amount of love was going to change a witch into a princess nor a frog into a prince..
Did the warrior save the princess? Or Did the Princess save him?
Questions and doubts, didn’t have a place anymore.. He had found his true love.. and she had found hers.. that is what mattered.. after everything said and done..
As the horse rode into the evening sunset, the Princess and her Warrior… looked forward to a new beginning.. to a new life together.. and yes, of course.. as every fairytale ends, they lived happily ever after..

And they lived happily ever after...

2008-02-16T15:38:00.000+05:30

The warrior threw down his sword in disgust. His graceful features bore frustration. His straight, strong back slouched from the lack of challenge. What was the use of a sword when you didn’t have a damsel in distress to save… ? His life felt aimless.. His power useless.. He kicked the sand, swearing appropriately. He sighed. “ One has to go about the world. Maybe I will find her tomorrow”, he thought. He sighed again and whistled for his horse. The ravishing steed thundered to him. As he swung his legs over the horse, the warrior let his imagination loose, once more thinking about the beautiful princess he hoped to find.
“She would be held by a demon and he would rescue her with his bravery and courage. He would love her and she would love him. And they would live happily ever after.. He was no prince. He knew that. Still he knew he could make a princess’ fairytale come true...” He smiled at the image of his princess in his mind..The day dawned in a hue of pink and gold. “Was it not the perfect day to find his princess!”, he thought.. He walked by a lovely stream, his horse by his side. He stopped suddenly , his warrior’s instincts alert and ready for battle. His hand ready on his sword, he walked silently but surely towards the sound he heard. He stopped in his tracks. A woman…, surely right out of battle. She looked like she had a thousand curses on her head. The woman cried out that she was in danger.. cried out to slay her enemies. With his sword out, he looked beyond her. He didn’t see a soul. He looked back at the woman. A damsel in distress? His Princess? It wasn’t at all like he had imagined.. no wonderful bells ringing around, .. no angels singing. Just an eerie silence and an angry woman who he could clearly see was getting ready to go after her enemies. “A warrior is a warrior”, he decided. “ And he has to save the damsel, bells ringing or not.” “ Speak to me , fair maiden. Who are those you fear.”, he asked. The woman smiled for the first time.. “ Go east , my warrior. Find the castle where the demon lives. Slay him and come back to me..”, she said. The warrior rose to do her bidding. He whistled for his horse and charged east.For a woman who was badly hurt, the witch stood with ease, smiling cunningly to herself. She couldn’t believe her luck. She had a warrior at her command. A warrior who clearly thought she was a princess destined for him. “The fool..”, she thought.” I’ll use him to slay my threats..” She walked to her castle. It was in ruins, a place where no princess would reside. “But the warrior could be tricked. He was too trusting for his own good.”, she decided. She sat down in front of a cauldron, slicing up... She smiled at their agony, thinking of the same pain etched in the warriors face. Yes, she liked the sight..The warrior came back to the castle, hurt and injured but victorious. As he lay his victory at the witch’s feet, she kicked the victory away throwing him another challenge instead. Another enemy to slay... The warrior didn’t understand the woman’s intentions. But honor and duty bound, he knew he was destined to save her from all evil. The warrior battled day and night… hoping for the love, he would one day get.. It never came.. More orders.. Crueler by the day.. Seasons rolled by.. He atlast returned to the castle cold in heart from the terrible deeds he had to do.. cold from the empty words he heard from the one he was devoted to.. Cold from the knowledge that.. a warrior gets what he deserves and that’s not the Princess he imagined.. One day atlast… on his return, the witch ordered him to her presence. And she showed herself to him as she was.. as a witch. The horrified warrior staggered back.. trying to get out of the wretched castle.. He could not.. he was trapped by the witch’s curses.. The witch laughed.. “I have you in my power, u fool. U cannot escape. You have killed my enemies, true. I don’t need you anymore.. But I like seeing your pain. It amuses me. Rot in the dungeons. I’ll come see you when u have another task.” The warrior crumbled, his spirit broken. His heart , his devotion , his love used by a witch.. he longed to make her understand his devotion. Longed to show her the limitless love he had in his heart, if only she loved him back..if only she ceased to be a witch..

Ocean's ONE

2008-02-03T14:26:00.000+05:30

Another epoch of thirty hours straight, and my body was already giving up. My job sure was taking its toll, but this was a compromise that I had to make for the sake of my survival. The course of medicated pills that the doc had prescribed was over long ago, but I continued; that was the only soothing element in my otherwise bleak life. Afterall, I was forced to put in those extra hours so that I could indulge in the luxury of keeping my ancestral house in a locality that has suddenly become posh.
The coastal city of Madras had never been quiet, but this sudden invasion of half baked engineers staring at the computer for days together had left us, the natives, at the mercy of rising prices. Rather than fight it, I decided to ride the wave and got into an elite company as a security guard. The pay was good, but I love complaining. Maybe I am a little claustrophobic, but my fisherman father is to blame for that. Untill recently, I had always dreamt of hopping on one of the huge boats and venturing to out of the strange lands. The idea of sitting at the doorway of a huge building was shockingly novel.
I had convinced myself to be at peace with the job, but the recent turn of events exposed the cruel games that fate was playing with me. The oldies tell me that the job of a security guard was to just sit around all the time. No one really breaks into and steals the things that these baabus behind glass walls manufacture.
However, ever since I had started, people always discovered something missing. Initially, they believed it to be practical jokes by colleagues, but as the incidents seems to grow, I was buzzed more often. My superiors dutifully passed on the wrath from the computer people to me. Not that I was feeling humiliated, but I wanted to stop this irritation that apparently was a deviation from the "regular job".
Like every other night, I was at the peak of my alertness. The office was nearly empty, except for those bachelors who virtually lived here. The pizza delivery boy had also left, so I was pretty much on my own. Nonchalantly, I drew an occasional glance at the CCTV screens to discover any movements. Even as the clock showed 1:00, I felt the minute hand resting on my eyelids. Every passing moment made my eyelids heavier.
Suddenly, I heard a suppressed hustle. Startled, I woke up, ready to pounce on the trouble maker. Unfortunately, it was just the last kid leaving the premises, after an hour of sticking his mobile phone to his ear. The cab driver escorted him to the parking lot, but my guts told me that something was not right. I picked up my baton, and went on a round in the office. Everything was still. Just as I passed one of the workspaces, I noticed a mobile phone. Evidently, the kid has left in in the hurry to shut the computer down and rush to the last cab for the night. I could feel the CCTV camera sweep past me. I felt a rush of blood. I stood there still, hearing my heart pounding against my badge. Another sweep of the camera, and I knew this was the time. With one swift stroke of my hand, I picked up the phone and slid it into my pockets.
The fruitful night was over, and I had yet another artifact to my collection, a collection that was a testimony of my revenge on these people who tried to confine me to poverty, a collection that represented the rebellion against those people who inflate the prices, the collection of a maniac, a kleptomaniac.

Quit Aardvark

Bomb Bomb Boole..

2008-01-02T23:52:00.001+05:30

..25, Male, Single, Software Engineer, Bangalore....thats one perfect recipe for a flawlessly boring life. I was still at that stage of bachelorhood when one explores the reason for a classic college hippie to suddenly spin out of control and turn to a professional moron. Three years ago, back at college, I always wanted to be a crime reporter. I had even worked on it by playing an occasional detective on the monkeys that used to steal our lunch or the guys who used to write random notes to girls. However, ever since those huge MNCs came in for campus placements, the reporter in me had given was for the professional
Why am I recalling all this now ? Well, it is just Wednesday and the week has already proven to be a drag. Right from the morning traffic to the weaning boss, everything seemed to be an product of all boredom squeezed out of my life. That was when I decided to done my cape, and get back to the good old days of being a crime reporter.
For the records, I have always been fascinated by those inquisitive reporters at Mumbai Mirror, who carried "suspicious" packages around the secure city of Mumbai, trying to test the preparedness of the police. Though I would not dare to irk the Bangalore police, I could still play with the elaborate security practices followed by authorities at the places that I visit daily. So reporter, grab your bag and standby for mission briefings...
[BEEP BEEP BEEP...radio static...]
MISSION 1: Recon states that hundreds of cars are stopped daily at the office entrance and scanned for harmful material, specially under the hood of a car, using mirrors. Officer, your objective is to take in a prohibited package. Secondary objective requires you to flash your fake ID at a guard stationed to detect the package.
The only time I had ever considered at bombing some place was when I was seven and had wanted to bomb the school to postpone the exams. Nevertheless, I proceeded. I was a little nervous as I drove my car into the inspection zone. The non-nonchalant guard rolled the mirror under the hood of my car to examine it. His eyes seemed to be fixed on the nymph walking along the footpath rather that the silver mirror that would show a bomb under the car. I was feverishly praying that the guard would ignore banner that I had stuck under the bonnet of my car, proudly reading "THIS CAR CONTAINS A BOMB". The guard proceeded towards the rear and checked the trunk. Lucky for me, he conveniently missed banner placed there too, that read something similar. Apparently, I had been clever with the camouflages, the black 72pt. Arial font on a white paper sure hides things.
Another guard at the far end asked me for my identity card, and I happily flaunted the ID card that looked something like the one in the picture. Satisfied with the tag and gloss of the paper I held, I let out a low shout of triumph as I moved into the parking zone.
Encouraged and deeply inspired by the flawlessly carried out mission, I decided to try something similar at a shopping mall, the only other place I have seen security guards. Packing up a plastic bag with items that resemble a ticking bomb, I entered the gate. The detector at the entrance of the mall screamed immediately, sending all the guards my way. They told me to step out for examination, and seized the plastic bag. With a couple of guards peering into the contents of the bag and giving me queer looks, I was starting to feel uncomfortable. The blow came when one of them held up the wakie-talkie and in the same sentence mentioned the words, "police" and "jail".
My survival instincts kicked in and I pretended to receive a very important call on the mobile phone. Signaling the guards to wait, I pretended to speak into the phone, all the time cautiously moving away from them, out of the mall. In a minute, I was near the road. I quickly got into a speeding auto, and made a 'grand' escape. The guards I am sure were left puzzled!
Now that was close. However, I did do what all confident criminals do ; leave the ID card as a clue ! There was just one problem, I have to subsequently return to the mall to get my car that was still parked in the parking lot !! And I did read the newspaper to double check if the police had let out the news of bomb threat at the mall to the press.

Geeks....timeout

2007-12-21T10:49:00.000+05:30

That petty fight had escalated to a full scale war. I don't know about her side, but this sure has left my camp devastated. She has not spoken to me for an year. She has blocked me on Orkut, banned me from her instant messenger, marked my emails as spam. The entire drama has left me, to put it simply, heart-broken.
Unable to bear it any longer, I had decided to to set my ego aside and apologize to her.
It is her birthday tomorrow, and what could be a better time to apologize an old partner if not on her birthday? However, the only problem was that I was running out of ideas. The cute fur rabbit doll that I had sent her the previous year had been returned undelivered. The chocolate cake that followed had met its fate on the innocent face of the delivery boy. Her wrath was getting only worse, and my ideas to get close to her seemed a distant dream.
The day was fast closing in, and I had to quickly think of a way to greet her. Dejected, I sat down to do what I always do...write code. I sat before my only friend, the brand new D620 Laptop, jotting down the various paths (game/decision trees) I could exploit for the assault to strike at her heart. Even as my hands were fruitlessly typing gift ideas, my mind 'streamed' back the good times that I had spent with her.
I could vividly visualize us having that lunch together, and then she fighting for the dessert afterwards. Our lazy strolls though the mall when she adored that first iPod and unsuccessfully pretended not to like it as I could not afford it. The times when she used to pick on me for being so geeky and uncool. That was when the idea stuck. I am not sure if I was dreaming, or if the computer really spoke, but I decided to give it a try.
A whole night chipping at the keyboard, and I was nearly done. Though the night had been long, all my weariness was consumed by the joy of completing the job at hand. Stumbling through the long hours, I had finally created a web site. Now, any sane person reading this would think that I was hitting the brink of a psychotic breakdown. But taking a look at what was done may make you think otherwise.
The premise was simple. I was not allowed to talk to her, but wanted to greet her on her special day. So I wrote a flash animation (http://scraps.geekstimeout.com) using which people can hide virtual gifts inside gift wrappers that open only at a specified time. Though I cannot send her messages, I hope that people will use this site, and some of them will use this to send her wishes. Getting sentimental may seem silly, but I bravely announce that though I may not be able to wish her, the code in every message sent to her using the site would try to pop out of her browser and wish her on my behalf !
I am not sure, if people will like the idea. I am not sure if she will like the idea. But this is all I can do. Dedicating the site to her, I wait to hear the sweet voice of my little princess. In the meanwhile, I would be doing what I always do....write code and more code....
And you guys, please do check out http://scraps.geekstimeout.com and let me know what you think of it !!

Jab We Met...

2007-12-02T17:39:00.000+05:30

After the heavy dosage of firangi (foreign) cinema and internet and no other social interaction, I had sheepishly become a passive member desi american tribe. Not just my accent, but even my actions had changed over the time that I had spent as a product manager, interacting the the firangi clients. "Hi" mutated to "Hey", and roti became "bread". No wonder I was waiting for the pundit to say "you may now kiss the bride" at my elder brother's wedding ceremony that I had attended recently.
The function was a gala event, like any typical Indian festival. Lots of color, lots of music and loads of sweets. It was there I met her, Neha. She was not stunningly pretty, but she did have the charisma to make me look at her the second time. A chance for an introduction and I jumped to the occasion. I discovered that she was bride's brother's friend's sister! There were a couple of chances to talk to her, but by the time I could open up a word, the butterflies in my stomach would emerge out of my throat and turn to creepy expressions in my eyes. The wedding ended and not a word was exchanged. People say that one wedding starts the preparation for another, but apparently, I was not the next in line.
That was a long time ago. Her pretty face had almost slipped to the archive section of my mind when i received a ping from her yesterday on my Instant messenger. It was a delicate "hi", but it had the effect of a taser on my logical abilities. Composing myself, I politely greeted her. The conversation initially centered around "nothings", but she eventually overcame her nervousness and came to the point.
"I think our parents are trying to put us together", she said. I was taken aback, but the mischief in my fingers replied back, "yeah..even my mom says that I don't socialize much. I forget old friends. Sure, i think we must get together." There was a deferred reply, "No yaar...by together, I mean TOGETHER". I sensed what she was getting at, but to avoid embarrassment, I replied, "Sure..lets catch up with some coffee some day, and we can even discuss the impact of the Software Industry on Indian politics".
I am not sure what was going on at the other side, but she sure was not very comforted on seeing my reply. She came bang at me, and shouted, "hey, looks like they wanted to get us married !!". All I could type at the moment was a silly "OOPS !!". I knew this was coming, yet, I was not prepared for the My throat went dry and I started looking around for words. The last 26 years of my life started to flash before my eyes, just like you see when people in movies are about to die !
Not that I was not ready for getting married to this pretty nymp, it was just that I was not sure I was ready yet, to get married to this beautiful and intelligent lady. Would my bachelor life survive such a drastic change, I was not sure. The IM window was still blinking, and I slowly tried the reply, "Really, that is weird...did my parents really say that ?". I am not sure why i said weird because that is a word that I use when I make up reasons like "It is weird that I slipped my project deadline".
It took her some time to hammer the fact into me that she could be my potential bride. She then told me that she wanted to complete her thesis as a traveling journalist before she even thought about weddings. I thought that it would be only diplomatic of me to say something similar. I told her that I had to complete my dream project before I could take a wife (Ironically, I hate my job, and the only project I am working on, completes the next week). And little more sweet talk to fill that awkward silence.
She then popped, "But tell me something, if I was ready to marry now, would you marry me ?". Another googly. Why the hell do girls not realize that guys cannot play games? A negative could upset her, and if I said "yes", she may conclude that I was a pervert and crazy about her. I wanted to maintain my ego, yet appear romantic. I did what all guys do at such times. I started praising her! I told her that I really liked the way she brought up the issue, and how bold she was (journalists like being bold right ?). I told her that she was as bold as she was pretty. Then I told her that when I saw her, I had glanced back at her the second time.
After a lot of such floss, I finally said it. I said something that made no sense, but came out of my fingers at that instant. I told her there was this particular girl from my workplace who was interested in me. I told her that thought I did not love her, I thought she had the crush. I built up an environment that would make it difficult for her to ask me any more such questions !
Defenseless, she opened her cards. She said that she wanted to tell me the truth. She told me that she was also in love, and her parents were trying to get her "fixed up" with me. That was the reason that she was talking to me. She wanted me to defer the wedding. Well, the tone did seem genuine, and I hope the poor girl gets her lover boy.
But wait....what if she was thinking like me ? What is she said that to avoid embarrassment? What if she had a crush on me, and she wanted to say that, without sounding too open ?
As fate would have it, the fuse blew, the power went down, and I was disconnected from the internet, and her.
With the little battery power I have left on my laptop, I am blogging about it, desperate to vent out my frustrations. All I am left with is .....jab we met....(online)...I was intelligent/foolish !! (ToDo : Strike out the appropriate when the power returns !!)

Golf for the rest of us

2007-12-01T17:25:00.000+05:30

We were golfing a last weekend at eagleton. Here are the videos.

My first shot...went a real long way ...

A long shot

Three good shots

....911.....419.....

2007-10-24T19:22:00.000+05:30

A lazy Saturday afternoon, chilled beer and chips from yesterday's late night party, surfing soft porn on the broadband internet...could any twenty something bachelor ask for more ?
Well, the answer, I discovered last weekend, was a big NO. May be it is the age, or may be it is the abundance of time, but apparently, I have never neglected opportunities when I could have fun.
It all started when my instant messenger screamed, informing me of a mail that I had received. It obviously was not any of my friends sending me a forward as they do that only on working days. It was not any official mail as I had redirected all of them to my spam folder. After a lot of deliberation, I navigated to the tab that had my web mail client open, and saw the new mail. The subject was weird, the text was all capitalized, and the mail was a scam !!
Well, I decided that since I had spent so much effort in navigating to the tab, I may as well drop in a reply to that pathetic soul who even hoped that I would read the mail. I quickly composed a one liner and non-nonchalantly hit the send button. That was the end of the episode on that day. Nothing happened till Monday morning. At around Monday afternoon, I recieved another mail, and I was "weirdly" surprised. This guy actually believes that I have fallen for the trap. Another one liner, and I thought that the story would end.
If only it had ended with that. The guy at the other end has ideas of his own, and he replied. The week had been bleak for my, and my creative juices were drained. That is when I got this idea to blog on the incident. So I promised myself to dedicate exactly a minute playing along. However, I realized that I was spending more time talking about the incident with my friends! All sorts of explanations came up.
There was a friend who told me that he could actually be a terrorist who wants a money transferred to an account, and was using me. Another girl told me that I could be one of our group who was playing the fool. Yet another friend told me that it was a trick by the interpol to determine the people who could be a part of this scheme. On the whole, they told me that I was preparing to put myself into deep trouble. There were warning about me watching out for the cops. Another friend even advised me to take a week off, and not touch the internet at all.
But the curiosity in me got even. I had grown up in the internet generation that was well aware of the scam mails. It was such a reflex to delete such mails that I had never even bothered to read them. Was the reason I wanted to play along, and see the results?
Well, whatever the reason is, I have found a weird incident to blog on. The entire transcript of the mail is available at http://fraudmail.tripod.com/mail/. Just look at the lame excuses made! I can't imagine why the conversation is still continuing! To tell you the truth, I am also getting a little bored. Anyway, nothing much can come out of this, except me actually doing something in my work hours. Just that all my colleagues now forward they spam mails to me !!! :)

* The title says 911....419. Though that sounds like bank account numbers or stuff [:)], they actually mean the helpline 911...for this fraud, that is widely called the 419 fraud.
http://home.rica.net/alphae/419coal/
http://www.419eater.com/

The Gods must be crazy...

2007-10-09T18:12:00.000+05:30

The last time God had taken some time off was on the seventh day after he had kick started creation. Since then, it has never been easy. With the growing population of his creations on earth, the number of situations that he had to solve was becoming increasingly complex. This was compounded by the fact that man, with the new found intelligence, seemed to create more problems than he solved. Though man was supposed to be growing mature logically, he was only complicating his emotional stature. This situation grew worse when a man fell in love with a woman. He would do things that even we angels would dare not to.
That precisely was the problem with this guy. Though God had written a happy future for him, Sriram, ensured that he left some work for me, his guardian angel. Born in a happy family, he had all things any child would wish for; but he grew to be an introvert. I even sent him Neha, as pretty as the angels, for him, to lighten him up. I made them meet at the college, made them fall in love. But all he could do was quarrel with her, and grow sad again. The only difference this time was that he was sad because she left him.
Well, he sure was testing me. I decided that I had better works to attend to, and decided to end this once for all. The other day while he was asleep, I dropped a note beside his bed. The note was modest in its words, and read something like

Son, I am sick of your antiques. Here is a mantra that you can read, and win her heart back. So please do it, and stop troubling me. Dude, realize that there are other guys whom I have to attend to.
- Signed on behalf of .... God, your loving father.

He woke up the next day but did not notice the note for a good part of the day. Getting impatient, I used a little wind and launched the note right onto his face. He picked it up and read it. Then chuckled. Then tore the note and put it in the dust bin. What in heaven was he thinking when he did that ?
I rewrote the note. I sent him other forms of signs. I even made him watch movies like Bruce almighty. It was after all this hardwork that he finally was inclined to even think that the note was actually sent by me. That night, he did take a look at the note. Looks like my troubles were finally set to rest.
However, the incidents of the next morning drove me crazy. Sriram had read the note, and had even written something on the backside. The note innocently read.

God, Thank a million for this kewl gesture. But chum, if I did use this mantra of yours, what I would get is not pure love. Dude, how could you ever imagine that I would even think of manipulating the mind of the girl I love more than myself ? Well god, if she returns to me, it should be because she realizes how much I love her. Till them, i would wait for her !!

Well ...well..well...now what would you call such a guy ? He is given a power, but does not use it ? His love indeed is true, and I think I should not interfere. On his part, I am sure he would have thought...the gods must be crazy.... !!

- written by
- Lucifer

The Art of the Start

2007-09-05T19:45:00.000+05:30

"....You listening to Radio Indigo inside a 7.5 lakh AC car and honking at the street urchin, chasing a rupee coin that slipped across the road is by no means an elegant way to.....",
Well, with the addition of a couple of more clauses, the sentence was getting too complex for me to comprehend. I sat in the middle of the argument like I always did, listening to the babble that this group always created. As always, I knew that the argument would not lead to a conclusion, but the idea of a bunch of "heavily" paid, 1+ experience techies inside a closed room, on a weekend afternoon was definitely entertaining.
This had become my weekend chore, and I had not dared to deviate from it since I started hanging out with this group. Brought together by profession, bound by agitation, these guys were easily the representative of the elite horde of bachelors, graduating from the top universities in the country. Like every other bunch, every one in them had an idea to make it big, every one thought they could change the world. And like every other group, nothing constructive was happening.
This was the youth of India, trying to make a mark in the world by cashing on the recent web 2.0 sites boom. The opportunities to start a company seemed plenty; there was blogging, social networking, community news, e-commerce...the list was endless. But every idea inspired by a google or an amazon was shot down with example of the millions that never got noticed. It was amidst this chaos, that the group stumbled on the strange fact. This group was planning on a project to change India !!
Nothing was strange about that night. It was lazy a friday, and the clock slowly pulled its arms together to indicate midnight. The group had finally decided to break from the multiplayer game that they had been playing since the evening, and honor their stomachs. Going out was not an option; any bachelor living in Bangalore knows that getting edible food past midnight in the city was bliss. All they could do was to drag themselves to the pantry to savor the left over biscuits of the day. To their mis fortune, they found real, edible food, enough to serve three dozen people, still absorbing the heat of the unattended heating tables.
Being software engineers, they discussed over the availability of food at this hour of the day, instead of eating it already! Tragedy stuck when a security guard arrived, and told them that this was the left over of the dinner that one of the teams had ordered. Obviously, the group had to discuss this massive wastage of "resources" by irresponsible Indians while enjoying the
"delicious" dinner.
That was about six months ago. Nothing much has changed since then. The arguments have not subsided. The ambitions have not been quelled. They still want to make a mark in this world. However, the only insignificant thing that emerged out of the day was a simple website. To them, it was a social networking websites, but I would not ridicule by leaving it to just that.
The website was a route through which excessive food reached the needy. If someone found that they have extra food, and it was being disposed into garbage, they could post it on the site. Any other philanthropist, passing that way could pick it up, and distribute it among the needy, on his way home. Statistics showed me that there had been at least a hundred people fed by this effort. The bunch has not changed. They have not seen the happy faces of the people for whom, this was the only meal of the day. They have not heard the blessing showered on them, but the under privileged. They still claim that the business value in this website is debatable. They still argue on whether to migrate the database of this site from MySQL to PostGres. They still argue about that single table found in that suddenly unclean HTML page. They still argue on ideas that could change the world......
To them, "....You listening to Radio Indigo inside a 7.5 lakh AC car and honking at the street urchin, chasing a rupee coin that slipped across the road is by no means an elegant way to....."....to change the world!

*The Art of the Start is a brilliant book by Guy Kawasaki

The recruit....

2007-08-09T19:17:00.000+05:30

Yet another project change, and I realized that my work life seemed to be stagnated. For the past five years in my corporate life, I seemed be have been working with the same kinds of companies, same kinds of people, listening to the same kind of music while coding and coding the same kind of programs.
Maybe that was one reason why I was excited when I was moving to a cubicle next the that of the Human Resources (HR) People. Fortunately for me, my head phone had also broken, so I was now all ears to the world around me.
The first few days were interesting. Listening to the recruiters talk to the potential candidates gave me immense insight into the operations of my "massive multinational software service company". There were facets of the company that I had never come across. As a matter of fact, I did doubt the facts to be advertising gimmicks, but as the words were spoken from the HR, I had to believe in them !
There were all kinds of issues being discussed. Freshers calling everyday to check up the status of their job application, employees trying to quit the job as quickly as possible, managers trying to reschedule interviews, the HR people tracking every expert to be hired in the industry, trying to rope them in, plans for the next crazy company party, misplaced bills of the previous company picnic, you name any non technical thing in the company, and it was discussed here.
Anger vented out at them by the manager unhappy about candidates turning out unworthy were flawlessly redirected to the consultants who did not check the references properly. Negotiations on compensation seemed to be no less diplomatic than someone justifying the ban against Gay marriages.
There was one "strange" thing that caught my attention in this chaos. There was this certain gentleman who was to be hired, and all the drama started the day his job application was forwarded by a job consultant. A call to this guy, and I was jolted out of my chair to listen to fast heavy metal song that only a pervert could like. Littered with swearing, the lyrics of the song would have been the last thing the HR would have wanted to hear while she called him on her speaker phone. A long gap, and a child picked up the phone, refusing to give it to his "daddy" till his daddy got him a chocolate. A long silence and finally the someone hung up. The call was returned fortunately, with the guy introducing him to be one Mr. Sarvanna Venkateshwara Rao. The conversation was long, but it was peppered with a lot of funny anecdotes allegedly demonstrating the professional prowess of the potential candidate.
No wonder Mr Rao had switched seventeen companies in the past ten years. He claimed that he did not find the "aura" of the companies conducive. His bio showed that he was an "acclaimed" expert in "you-name-any-field". His experience, according to him rivaled the best in breed.
Another few minutes of eavesdropping and he was my hero...a hero that I would like only in comics, not in real life. His hobby was philanthropy, his kids called him Bapuji, and his friends never understood what he said (because of the technical merit of the speech !!)
A few more days, and I was starting to see a character form before me. He seemed to get his phone call attended by his five year old kid who never got an ice cream. He always seem to busy exactly at the time the interview was to be scheduled, and he was also unable to call back as his phone did not show him missed calls. He even revealed that he was a fan or sardarji jokes, and felt that he hated people who smoke bidis. I personally think that it is the HRs jobs to know you better, but I am not sure if an HR would really be happy with information overload.
Another week went by, but his amuseing calls did not seem to end. His list of questions about his new workspace seemed endless. He wanted to know the current stock price, the spatial capacity of the building, the space per employee. There were fine, but in my humble opinion, the idea of asking the flavors of tea in the pantry, the number of duplicates keys to his new cupboards, the number of parties per month, number of markers per white board and even the brand of toilet paper seemed a little strange.
Ok, I accept I made that last one up, but his questions could drive any person insane. Though the HR were answering all this patiently, I would have loved to hear the stuff going on inside their head. I was sure by now that I really like Mr Rao, if he was not talking to me !
When I hopped into this morning, the team members seemed to be crowded around a cubicle. As i approached the crowd with my signature whistling, I realized a new person in the group. He was smart, looked well groomed, and seemed to command authority. As i neared him, he shot a loot at me and greeted....
".....hello young man, I am Sarvanna Venkateshwara Rao B.E., M.E., M.S., and I am you new manager.....you can call me SIR (short for Sarvanna !! ), and please tell me the reason why you are late to the office ......
Looks like it was time to get my head phones repaired.

*The title shares its name with the movie, the Recruit

This day that age....

2007-07-10T20:05:00.000+05:30

This day, that age, thirty one years ago, I was born. It has been a long time since I have existed on this planet. I have lived my life, like any other human being. I have had the same kind of joys, same kinds of worries. I had always aspired that life wanted to give me more that I could take.
Well, thats what I thought till today. Till I received that fateful email. The mail in itself, least to say, was not as amusing as its sender. The mail had been sent by a guy who shared my name. Worst of all, he even shared everything I had or I was. After all, it was my very self ten years ago. I vaguely remember having looked up a site called http://www.futureme.org/ and having written to myself, a mail that I would get a decade later. I had never expected it to arrive, but it has, and I am suddenly catapulted into a specific time in my past, a time that was blurred between the remnants of passing time.
I had written about my graduation from college, about my job seeking pains, and about my wildest desires of a comfortable life. I had portrayed a vivid image of how I would want to live as an independent man. I had shamelessly cribbed about the long lectures back at college, and how I am delighted to finally leave it all behind. I seemed to have developed a dislike for my past, and huge expectations from my present.
Well, today, I am employed and have money, but nothing near that wild comfortable holidaying at the Hawaii has ever happened. Today, I prefer to use all the money to insure the future of my family instead of burn it on the costly cigars that I dreamt of. Instead of seeking jobs, people come to me with offers. About the college lectures, I think I am too busy to form an opinion.
I had penned down my feelings when I had first kissed a girl, the girl who meant more than anything to me in this world. I had written about the times when she had first hugged me, about the first present I had given her, about all the money I stole from my dad for that present. I had then mentioned about her insensitivity when she heartlessly left me. I had announced my resolve to marry no other girl for I believed that all girls were derivations from a heartless nature.
Looking back, I think I was wrong. My wife today cares for me much more than she does for herself. I used to think that kids were pesky. Today, I realize that my daughter is no less than a princess. May be I felt lonely then, just that today I am overwhelmed with people.
Interestingly, I had written about duping a cop for catching me driving while I was drunk. I had also mentioned about an incident of bribing the peon to slip my answer sheet into the pile so that I did not flunk the exams. In short, I had foolishly tried to live 21 years of my life into that email I was writing to me.
Nothing much has changed since then. I am the same person. Like then, I still keep complaining. Like then, I have ambitions, more practical though. Like then, I still am lazy, yet diligent. The only thing that I had not changed was that I am still rushing though my life. back then, I was dying to lead a comfortable life, to have lots of money, to get the girl, to have all the fun. Even today, I am dying to do something great, to grow in my career, to satisfy all the needs of my family. If all these, all I was doing was dying to do something, when was I living ?
Allegedly, I had been "living" my life just like any other ordinary human being, each different in his own way.
Heavy with nostalgia, all I could do is open the browser, get to that site and start writing another email that would reach me after another decade, if the system existed. What would it be like then, when I receive the mail, on this day, that age ......

Abolish Child Marriagein India

2007-06-07T20:14:00.000+05:30

A hot sultry summer in Mumbai, and my elder brother is already contemplating to return to Bangalore, where he works. Not that he is busy or something, he is just having another fit of the "I-am-a-busy-MAN" syndrome. Well, I guess it is the effect of the IT industry. With not even an year completed out of engineering college, he truly believes that he is the one who runs the company where he is employed; a billion dollar company with thirty thousand employees!
This time when he visited home, he got me the digital camera. I had been begging for it, since he got his first salary, his honour had finally granted me the boon. The last few days had been spent in vanity, with me clicking every single atom at home. I had managed to click all permutations of my family members.
In the evening, when I was returning from my music class, I saw Kamakshi maami talking to her friends near the gate. This was the situation I had dreaded. Despite my best attempts to stealth mode, she spotted me, and called me to the group. Hmm...., there goes my movie that was running on the TV. Some minutes later(that seemed like years, by theory of relativity), she addressed me, asking me about the contents in my hand. I quickly handed over the photographs to her, telling her to drop it at home, while I return to the shop to collect the change I had forgotten.
Another hour, and I finally decided to return home as the congregation of the maamis would have dispersed. I found the door ajar, and heard loud peels of laughter from inside. Apparently, the maami had come home, to "deliver" the photographs. As I walked past, my mother gave a frightening stare. I mumbled that while collecting the change, I had a flat tyre, but my excuse was dissipated in the conversation that mami was eager to restart.
They were sitting in the room where the TV was, and there was no way my mother would allow me to sit and watch the movie. Reluctantly, I picked up a few brass lamps to polish, and sat down near the TV, all ears to the conversation. My brother was sitting upstairs, doing something on his laptop as usual.
The conversation seemed to be about marriage. The mami was apparently exaggerating about a daughter of a friend. She said that the girl was obedient, beautiful and blah blah. The girl had done some graduation in commerce, working in a BPO, knew classical singing, and cooked well. Then came out all details about her parentage, and ancestry. The conversation was going in a direction as I had guessed but least expected.
The maami then pronounced the wildest lie on earth. She said that my elder brother was handsome, pointing to one of the photographs from the bunch I had clicked! I mean..... he looks fine,.......... ok, he looks good, but I am sure you can attribute it to the facial that he had a couple of days back. He definitely has a noticeable bulge on his tummy. Also, his attempts at the gym for body building have failed for sure. He looked good, but was by no scale handsome. I mean, John Abraham is handsome, Hritik is handsome, no....not my bro, come on....
Soon, maami started fishing out details about his salary, and position in the company, blah blah. By the words my Mom was using, it looked like he was a very important person in the company. He seemed to be a respectable citizen in the society, a gentleman. Holy shit.....accepted that my bro did protect me from the school bullies, and shared his things with me, but this ignorable bum was by no standards, a gentleman.
My mom shouted his name, but he replied that he was a little busy and would come downstairs when he completes some module. I could see satisfaction on mami's face, but I was not sure my mother seemed irritated. I was summoned to fetch him, and I hurried upstairs to escape the wrath of my mom. After a few minutes, my bro came downstairs, holding his computer in one hand.
Kamakshi mami seemed to be pleased after looking at him. She even comforted him telling him that she understood how much hard he worked. My brother just shyly smiled, and I am sure there was some other thought using up his brain in the background. Some more pleasentaries, and my bro did reiterate a fact that he was a busy professional, ready for a married life.
Just then, his computer shouted, "Game Over, You lose !! ", and the loud music that followed, dimmed the errie silence. My mother just laughed and said, "No Kamakshi Maami, I would love to get my son married to the girl, but she is 25, and he is just 21, he is still a kid...".
I could see evident smiles pointed at Kamakshi Maami's embarrassment, as she picked up a horoscope, a photo, and started to leave.
My bro, was standing there like a stupid bum, not understanding what was happening. Unable to control myself, I burst out laughing. Simultaneously, I switched on the TV, there was the advertisement running on DoorDarshan. It plainly said .... "Abolish Child Marriage in India....." !!!!

No harm intended to anyone !!!

Mailed to death

2007-05-27T17:35:00.000+05:30

Most mails forwarded to me reach the same place...trash. My mail box is almost always overflowing with official mail, clearing them takes the entire day. Hence, there is no way I would read those senseless forwards and PJs that somehow find a place in between my official mails, no matter how many times I mark them spam. This was interestingly very different from the situation a couple of years ago, when I only had meaningless spams in my mailbox.
That day was an unusually free. The clients were exceedingly happy with my work, and my manager was on his way to recommend a promotion for me as a product manager. I seem to feel the fact that I was finally transforming from a unkempt college rogue to a polished corporate magnet. The transformation process did draw some dark circles around my eyes, recede the hair line on my head a little, and give a slight bulge in my tummy, but that was the price I was willing to pay for quickly climbing up the ladder.
I slowly started parsing through mail I had received. Soon the business mails were done, and I started glancing through the other spam. There were random mails scattered all around. Photographs about some new heroine in a latest flick of a superstar of a regional movie, Sardarji jokes, regular quotations to start the days, and health facts about cellular phones burning people; the crap seemed to go on and on.
Suddenly I stumbled onto a mail whose subject line screamed : "Are you sure you will not get a heart attack." I just nodded at the inanimate mail, and opened it to see its counter argument.
There were facts certified by doctors who claimed to be from Apollo, case studies of software engineers victims of the disease, and pointers that would make anyone reading it believe that he would get a heart attack by the time he finished reading the mail.
Half way through the mail, I realized that i needed to use the rest room, and nonchalantly proceeded towards my destination. After the ritual, while I was washing my face, I noticed something strange. Just as the mail had predicted, my vision seemed to blur. I looked down. to notice all the cholesterol packed up in my tummy. I tried holding my breath and feel my pulse, and I felt myself struggling to keep up with the lack of air. I looked around, and seeing that there was no one else in the restroom, tried to jump a few times, as the mail had spoken about identifying symptoms. For sure, I was getting breathless very soon. The mail had suggested recording the breath-rate after a brief jog. I looked around, noticed that restroom was too small to run around, and dropped the idea.
Trying to dust these thoughts, I quickly exited the restroom to move into the smoking zone. No sooner had I picked up my first cigarette of the day that the words in the mail seemed to scream loudly about lung cancer. Looking at the other smokers with disgust, I quickly moved away into a more open space. I slowly set my watch to the chronometer mode, frequently checking that no one was looking, and started measuring my breath rate. Towards the end of the time, I found myself trying to breath more slowly to meet the specified rate to 15 intakes per minute.
By the time I reached for lunch, I had become too self conscious to hide my anxiety and dodge the curiosity of my colleagues.
Being a business lunch, the food was royally good, but all that I could see in the nameplates of servings in the buffet was not the name, but the calorie count. Avoiding all kinds of fat, I finally found that my plate was populated with a few pieces of cucumber and a single bread. Trying to eat that as long as possible, so as to stay with the others on the table, my mind was never in the strategical dialogs that we were having with our clients.
Time rushed, and I quickly hurried back to my desk, sure that my lifestyle was completely screwed, and that I was soon to be the victim of a million diseases. From frustration bubbled philosophy. I reasoned myself to reject the promotion. If I was to work like a donkey, and then get ill was use would be all money be put to ? Will I be spending all that I earn in medicines and treatment ? The sudden realization put me into a mode I was very familiar with - this was a mode that I got into when a project was on the brink of getting scrapped.
Google to the rescue, and I started searching for all kind of tread mills, sauna belts, herbal medicins and stuff. Strangely, this market of capatilizing on people's fear of illness seemed to have many products and offerings. There were these slimming centers and gyms that were scheming to take a percentage of my earnings. There were these instruments that were ready to make me sacrifice the plan of getting a diamond earing for my girl friend.
Horrified, I scrolled down to read the remaining part of the mail. The solution to all this was simple.
I went ahead and took my promotion. I work harder than ever. I don't have those million dollar medicines now. I have not subscribed to those costly gyms that I could never afford to attend. But I definitely have changed my lifestyle. I play badminton with her every evening - this keeps me healthy, and allows me to spend more time with her. I have sold my stylish bike for a general bicycle. Hitching a ride on it was quicker, given the traffic, and hopefully healthier.
Now whether or not the pollution of Bangalore will kill me is a discussion for another day !! :)

I think i am getting married !!!!

2007-04-24T09:57:00.000+05:30

Neha writes......

Spiced by the regular pounding of the cinema and fairy tales, I thought that it was natural that my prince charming came to me like a knight in shining armor, standing over the defeated villains, kneeling to propose to me and carrying me to his land of love! Alas, those fantasies seem to fade into unreality as my parents had finally picked up my horoscope and performing the customary rigmaroles get get me married off.
There were points in time when my house seemed like that typical photo studio outside the US VISA office, with random photographs of men in ties and suites piling on the desks, ready to be dispatched. Even the browsing history on my computer seemed to show only a never ending list of matrimonial sites. My mother was forced to accept that computer was now an integral part of our lives, just like rice or chutney, and that the internet is a place to socialize!
After days of boring counsel and heated arguments, the entire family seemed to zero in on a couple of 'bakras'. They slyly sent in my younger bro as the messenger to ask me to select one of them.
Now there comes problem. During my years when love was "supposed" to happen, I preferred to be a studious girl, not really seeing any guy. May be it was my conventional upbringing, or it was the fact that none of the jerks in my college seemed attractive enough, in the end I am here, seeing potential candidates with whom I would be spending the remaining part of my life.
I would not really term that feeling to be confusion, or call it shyness, but when I saw his photo, i could feel something in my heart. Of the entire gamut of pictures of men with "IT industry" written all over their faces, this guy seemed to have a something different. He looked smart, though not like Tom Cruise. Getting his details, I realized that he could be intelligent, though no like an Einstein. He also seemed to play cricket, though he was nothing like Dhoni.
I finally got a chance to see him when his family visited mine. Surrounded by a whole herd of friends and children, it was a simple "hello" that we managed to exchange. Our second meeting came to me as a surprise, as my mom told me that he would be waiting for me at a coffee shop. Running late due to a meeting, I found him waiting for me at the gates of my office!
Some more greetings exchanged, a through analysis of the weather, and he finally pulled out some papers and handed them over to me. "They are a compilation of questions that will help me understand you better", he said, as he left, leaving me surprised. I hurriedly tucked them inside my bag trying to avoid the prying eyes of my colleagues. Reaching home, I retrieved the first thing the gave me, and started analyzing it.
It was three sheets of paper, decorated with a neat hand writing, cleanly stapled at the top left, just like some project specification. Ordinarily, I would never torture myself to read a project report, but this being his first true communication with me, I decided to give it a glance. Anyway, there was nothing much to do, in the night except for may be dream about him!
The document seemed to have questions, numbered from 1 to 50. Luckily for me there was no place where the marks for each question was written, or any time limit mentioned. I started reading the question paper before answering them.

1. Which is your favourite color
2. What is your favourite dish
........
10. What are you hobbies
........ Hmmm.....interesting ......
12. Do you watch cricket
17. What are the qualities you expect in your husband
......... oh, so descriptive type questions......
20. What is you opinion on the polls in U.P.?
.......aaaaa......so here are the opinion essays....
26. If we were to have a dog, you would name it ____________
.......ok, so fill in the blanks.....
32. If you found a Rs. 100 note on the road........
.......truth or tact ?
37. Who is movie star who was recently married ?
....testing my general knowledge
40. Ask me a question to which i can say a yes or a no only....
....... f**k, are we gonna play 20 questions now ? Looks like you left out match the following you moron. I was having enough of this, but i continued reading on...
42. Pardon me for irritating you all this time, but let me ask you that I really wanted to. I think you are the most beautiful woman in the entire world. You are a princess, an angel. The instant I saw you, you stole my heart. You are my dream, my love, my life, I just wanna spend the rest of my life with you...with you honey...Would you marry me ?
43. Never mind the other questions, just tell me love, would you marry me ?
44........
I tried reading it again, but the words seem to sound the same. So this was the style that this sweet moron used, to sway me? Well, if he thinks that this will work................... it did, he has just impressed me. I think i would definitely want to spend the rest of my life with this prince of questions!
Its payback time now. I quietly picked out my brothers essay on Indian politics, and stitched it into the answer paper I was preparing. I answered all his questions, but the answer paper turned out to be around 30 pages. Well, let him find my answer in that bulk........Love you loads sri...

Amores Perros

2007-04-13T15:15:00.000+05:30

TGIF......Thank God it's FRIDAY !!! The long week still seems to sprawl its viscous tentacles over the little remaining life it has left in me. It was not that I had worked hard the entire week, or that I was completely stressed, but the very thought of leaving my bed to look at the world seemed to drain the spirit of living from me. The very generous HR of my company had organized a party to "lighten" up things, but I was only hoping that it would not do more harm than good.
The better part of the day was over, and after the lunch, I was trying to digest the afternoon with slow music 'glowing' from my computer. I could see over my cubicle, the heads of my HR running around frantically to get the party ready. There would be an occasional howl of an over enthusiastic employee about the celebrations that were to happen a little later. Otherwise, the afternoon was gloomy.
As time slept through, I realized that people had started to drift towards the cafeteria, for the party that was meant to celebrate 'life' in the IT industry. I slowly got up and flung myself on the shoulder of a colleague to reach the pantry. The atmosphere seemed more saturated than normal. It was then that I realized the presence of faces that I did not see usually. They seemed different, and it took me some time to figure out that they were all extremely pretty.
The first glass of alcohol re initiated my senses, and I slowly started to pick up details of my surroundings. I learned that this meeting was an all-hands, and people from other offices had also turned up. I also became aware of the number of pretty nymphs that our company had hired. I soon caught up with my team, and the topic of discussion was obviously centered around these 'beautiful things in life'.
Guys were rehearsing all sorts of lines (that would never be actually delivered) to start a conversation with them. The ladies seemed so cheerful that they were very much aware of the attention they were garnering. Suddenly, one of my friends taunted me to pick up my line. As my mouth started stammering, I heard some comments in the background.
"Dude, thats a geek, and geeks and girls dont mix well..."
"He will go to her straight and say - Hello World !!! "
"Your curves are perfect squares - 36-25-36 !!! "
"Lets mash up ... instead of lets match up....i have seen this guy looking at Yahoo pipes recently.."
"No yaar, I know this nerd's pick up line......it would sound something like .... i think you are as beautiful as writing a greasemonkey script with closures"
"No way, I am sure he will discuss the merits of dynamically typed languages first !! "
"Nah Nah....i think it would be ... why not you come over to office tonight and we play Age of Emperors all night ?? ..... AOE- Age of Conquerors to be specific ? "
"What about his ranting on the philosophy on the Matrix, and Star Wars ? "
"All your base are belong to us..."
"Pick up the red pill or the blue..."
"Umm...well, what about something like.....
"Fine guys, looks like you have all the pickup lines that you ever wanted.....I am off to work, got some code to chip in", I replied. As I walked back, I felt my shirt pocket, feeling for the delicate photograph cuddling my heart. Well, her photograph was the only thing that remained after she had left me to die. May be I was indeed too much of a nerd for her to tolerate, or may be I loved her much more than all technology in the world. However, it was very true in the past she had loved me, and in the present, she has left me. Anyways, I had never used a pickup line to woo her, amores perros...........

*The title amores perros is in Spanish, and means, Loves Dogs. Well, I think they mean to say that in love you be faithful like a dog.....perros in Spanish is for female dogs.

Accidentally...I am back

2007-03-14T19:44:00.000+05:30

Finally, I am back. Looks like death has passed, and life is back to my still shattered form. It has taken me a very long time to recover, a very long time indeed. Yet nothing around me seems to have changed. The accident seemed like it happened yesterday, the horror of the crash still fresh in my memory.
I still remember that day vividly. It was a whole month ago. The day seemed like just another day. As usual I was running late to office, and tried to negotiate every shortcut on my bike to get closer to my workplace. The traffic was surging as usual, navigation and speed were becoming seemingly impossible.
I wanted to escape the signals, and I had been successful till then, but this last wrenched signal broke my rhythm. I could have skipped it by a whisker, but I was not a person taking chances on my life. I slowly brought my roaring motorcycle to a halt, looking at the ticking counter that was still reading a count of 120. The traffic swept across the junction, orderly from one direction to another. It was like I was still, and the whole world moved around me. A sudden honk from behind brought me back to the present, and a single glance at the counter told me that it was my time to move as.
As I hit the gear and started to move, I barely noticed a car trying to take advantage of the last second of his "GREEN" time. Thought I accelerated cautiously, I felt the car heading directly towards me, to avoid the small pothole in the middle of the road.
It was all over me in an instant. The car barely brushed my front tire, and I felt myself slipping, and drifting on the hot surface of the road. I felt the shock, but no pain, as I saw the car race away from me.
It was some seconds, when I overcame the shock and felt cold blood flowing all over me. I could feel pain all over my torso. Strangely however, I could see people huddled a little away from me, shouting at a person. Soon the argument heated up, and I could see a blurred image of a the glass panes of a car being shattered. I now realize that the people were vandalizing the person who had hit me. A few seconds of pain, and the same man approached me. A few utterances of apology, and he dragged me into his already battered car. I knew nothing after that, darkness closed upon me.
When I later opened my eyes, I realized that I was in the hospital. My parents were there too. The situation seemed to have stabilized and I seemed to be in safe haven no. But to my surprise, I saw the same man also standing in the room. I later learned that he was the one who save my limbs by getting me to the hospital in time.
I don't really what I felt for that particular person then. It should be anger for wrecking one month of my life. But today, I think it was not that. It was gratitude that I feel for this person, despite wrecking his vehicle, he took pains to get me to the hospital. Hmmm...not sure, but if he would not have done it, someone else would have , wouldn't they ? I don't know. For that matter, does it really matter, after all, accidentally, I am back !!!

Oooops...i shot the PM !! ;-)

2007-01-22T17:37:00.000+05:30

"Coooovvveeeerrrrring fire...." I pleaded as I scurried into the nearest bunker. A bullet just shot past my helmet as I fell on the floor gaping for breath. Another series of bullets ricocheting off the sand of the bunker, the enemy attention with me and I dared not to lift my head over the bunker.
I knew that this was silly, but I was left with no option. The enemy had advanced well and even taken a couple of our men down. We were all the resistance that was left, and getting to the objective was seeming impossible. It was now, or never. I was so close to the objective, yet so far from picking it up and returning to safe haven. I could imaging past the sand barracks, the numerous guns waiting to get me if I dared to rear my head up.
Suddenly then, I heard some activity. I nudged up to see the chaos, as I saw one of my men getting pinned down at the other end of the field. Apparently, he thought that he could sneak past to get it. But he was wrong. He was a little noisy, and got three shot right up his chest.
"Man Down...Man Down...", the soldier behind him declared, as he tried his best to fend off the enemy from the fallen barrack.
Taking advantage of the situation, I quietly crawled to the objective and picked it up. This was it, I now just had to get back to secure the objective. Just as I turned back, I saw a gun taking aim at my back. Lightning quick, I turned back, and punched a bullet right into his face. As the enemy fell down with the shock of my reaction, I gave myself the pleasure to pound a couple more into his chest. The guy removed his helmet, and lay down staring at me, white blood flowing across his helmet.
Avoiding his revengeful eyes, I ducked back to the bunker. Slowly I popped up, I saw the soul of the man I had just shot walking out of the field. His eyes seemed announcing a message clearly. "Well, there goes my appraisal", I said to myself. Maybe that is the reason you must not shoot your Project Manager ( PM, right ? ), even if he is in the other team.
With the enemy losing their leader, they were nothing more than a pack of easy targets. I got back to my base, and won the game for my team. Well, that was quite fun, a great end to a post-release team outing [I work for a company that is into computer security solution, authentication, etc...].

Paint-Ball was always as much fun, and it could not get better without shooting my PM ;-)
I am sure what the organizer of the event would be reiterating, given our "field-operation" credentials.. "Thank god, these guys defend the computers, and not our borders ......... "

P.S. : PaintBall is an adventure sport where people are split into teams, given Semi Automatic Gas guns, and fire balls filled with paint. Once a bullet hits you, the paint spills all over your clothes [Thats the part with most fun, its worth getting shot !!]. Once hit, you walk out of the "battlefield", as a soul !!!

Paint Ball site : http://yuyutsa.com/
Some sweet Memories : http://picasaweb.google.com/n.parashuram/PaintBall

The Blogger....

2007-01-10T18:09:00.000+05:30

....and then....take a deep breath...and let the thoughts flow....I look like a typical blogger, peering over my computer screen, trying to craft a good verse out of random ideas. Sometimes it gets jittery, at other times, it gets very involving. But I have always enjoyed writing. I have always enjoyed logging irony that I observe in my daily life around me.
Be it the insanity of men, or clarity of animals, I have always tried to capture them in detail in the verses that flow out of my keyboard. I have always tried to observe situations as a person unconnected to them. I have always been at the situation, unconnected to it, and then coming back, and writing about it.
It was the same story today. The new year had just begun, and my late night shift at the BPO had just ended. My employer organization, as a matter of policy, had handed me a gift box full of chocolates as a new year "hand-out". The cab was late as usual. Not wanting to spend any more hour of this first day at my office, i strolled back home. There were a lot of errands remaining unfinished, I had to get my clothes laundered, had to gift my girlfriend her new year moto-razor, and above all, complete that unfinished blog.
The path that I take back home is usually littered by people who have not been affected the the IT boom in the country, the people who keep our country running, the slum people. As I passed the the contaminated streets, enjoying the early morning chill, my eyes scanned a group of urchins playing nearby.
Suddenly, one of them galloped to me and shouted "appy nu ear". I was taken aback. Though the pronunciation was a little flawed, the language undoubtedly was English. I bent down and in vernacular, greeted him back and asked him where he picked it up. His answer was interesting. Some "Rich Urchins" were camping around that place and were shouting "Happy New Year" all night long. The young chap also told me that when he did the same, they gave him cookies.
Now that was a story that could get any sensitive writer tuned on. I am sure I could fork a quick blog out of things that these young champions tell me. I fumbled around a little, and quickly produced the chocolates to retain the attention of this young subject. With that, all the young champions gravitated towards me. I laid the chocolates before them, eager to hear them talk.
All of them seemed to have stories of the new year eve. I heard them, and re-heard them, but nothing was really interesting.
Dejected, I walked back. Just then, vasumathi* called me up to wish luck for the new year. Chit-chatting all the way, I finally converged on the incidents that just happened. I reasoned to her that new year was not really creative, as I had failed to fork a story about how these street smart guys spent the new year eve.
There was silence at the other end. I waited. The silence continued. Then she spoke up. The first sentence seemed to be an abuse, something that just passed above my head. Words that followed seemed to make perfect sense.
"You were looking for a story, weren't you? But Mr. Blogger...what you failed to notice in that bargain is the happiness of cute children would when you gave them the chocolates. What you failed to notice was the joy of those young children when you bent down and talked to them, greeted them. Mr. Blogger....did you even care to appreciate the toothless smile that the urchin brought up when he saw the chocolates as the first thing this new year ?.........."

Vasumathi is an old friend, and I turn to her for philosophical advise on my blogs !!

Elevator Pitch

2006-11-10T12:33:00.000+05:30

It seemed to be a sunny start to what would turn out to be another weary week, but I tried to keep my sagging spirits high. Though it was early in the day, I knew that i would have to brave the killer pollution and the irritating traffic before I could settle in my workstation. Nevertheless, I dodged my bike through the endless pile of honking cars, and reached the campus, the very campus that I had always respected as the gateway to prosperity and joy during college days. The fancy seemed to have faded away, leaving me in the dazed dream of bleak work pressure.

At the entrance, the guard stopped me, and asked me for my identification badge, just like he had been doing for the past two years. Well, I always passed this spot everyday, but had to prove to the guard that I was an authentic visitor to the campus. To him, I was just another employee. It was not just him... even my bosses thought the same way. A subtle argument, and a quick phone call to the head security guard granted me entrance. I walked to me block passing huge buildings that seemed bigger than humanity.

I quickened my steps to tailgate with another employee who diligently swiped his identification badge to open the doors. Hurrying towards the lobby, I saw a big group waiting for the elevators, and my heart sank. This was a ringamorale everyday, I had had to wait endlessly as one of the four elevators took mercy on me to life me to my 8th floor. Today seemed no different and I could see the LCDs changing to all floors except the basement, where I was standing.

It was then that I saw her, that blue eyed nymph. She seemed like a princess cursed to work in the software industry. The aura surrounding her smelt like jasmines from heaven. Her bluish dupatta fluttered in the breeze that seemed to cajole her gentle form. Her mobile phone was lucky to be caught in the gentle gasp of her hand. The golden wrist watch was an artifact that she carried from heaven. A thing of beauty is truly a joy forever.

Joy forever, huh ?? Well, I knew what I was thinking next. I started to pray even harder that the inevitable lift would delay its arrival. My logical brain even started calculating the time I could spend near her. I had always tried to find the algorithm the lift used, and the connection between the functioning of the four lifts. It always seemed that the elevators had a mind of their own, picking up the right people at the right time..I only hoped that they lost their sanity toady. I even thought of the idea of calling up some generous colleague and telling him to press the elevator button at different places so that the elevators got confused, and never come to the basement.

Or even better, I hoped that one lift comes and all others except me an her get into it. Then both of us get into another lift. Then while we are in, the power goes off. Then i could tell her my 'elevator pitch'. Then she would look at me. Then ........well..it was all fruitless imagination, as my eyes remained transfixed on her.

Just then the bell of the devil rang. It was my boss calling me up.He seemed furious and kept shouting at me. It took me sometime to come out of her pleasant spell and realize that I had broken the code last night. I knew what was coming next. This could mean no appraisal, no promotions, no....oh no..i gotta fix it. But where the hell is the lift, every passing second was getting me closer to death !!

Every tick tickled my anxiety, and I knew what to do next. I dashed towards the stairs, clambering all the way up. But before the dashed, I promised my self, tomorrow, same time, i will be here .....with my elevator pitch....

*this is an elevator pitch

Roger that..

2006-10-17T15:22:00.000+05:30

"This is the place where I belong...", I remarked to myself as I passed the millitary establishment on my way to college. Just then, a group of young brimming soldiers jogged past me, under the command of the stern-looking officer. The music by the hardened thumps of their boots could ring fear into any enemy's heart. Guns mounted on the shoulders, they looked like knights in shinning armour.
With the head held high, these men showed no sign of tireness, though their shirts were soaked in the sweat of the exercise. This was a life to live, a life of honour, a life of discipline, a life of satisfaction. Even as i dragged along the perimeter of the campus, I could see new recruits learning the way of a soldier, many getting punished, but none budging at duty. A bunch of pretty nymphs passed me, looking at the men, commenting at their "handsome" looks. The uniform gave these ordinary men, their charms, and in an instant they were transformed to epitomes of valour. I wonder how the soldier faces the battle field, gun in one hand, death on the other. Yet, their courage never fails them. The impressive salute that the officer gets, the decency of holding the door open for a lady, those bachelor wine parties, those slow couple dances, oh how much i envy them.
I moved on, looking at myself, and then looking at them. Still throwing occasional glances to my left, I moved on, assuring myself that this was the place I belonged to. Suddenly, I stumbled over something. The white object slowly gathered itself, as I made out that it was a young woman, draped in a crumpled white saree. Uttering the customary apologies, I could not stop myself from seeing the beauty she adorned. All was fine, except that her face seemed unusually pale. She did not speak a word and moved on.
Her appreance was so captivating that I continued to stare in her direction. She walked directly to the commanding officer, inside the campus. A couple of sentences uttered, and she collapsed. Sure thing, these army men are really stern, they can scare the shit out of you !!!
The officer slowly helped her collect herself, and continued to console her. From the conversation that was barely audible, I could make out that she was a young widow of a fallen knight. Her present was in tatters, and her future blank. The officer continued to talk to her and led her into the inner quarters.
Losing her sight, I continued on my journey, still wondering at the game fate had played on her. I was frightening, I would not want to leave anyone like this. Death is a hard truth, and these men battle in search for it. My mind beamed to me repeatedly .... this is surly not the place where I belong.... this is not my place.
Trying to ward off my thoughts, I tried to move on. I adjusted my crutches , dragged my wasted legs and continued on my way to the college. I still realise, well, this is not the place where I belong .......

.....proprietary

2006-09-28T01:02:00.000+05:30

"So, who is proprietor , Babu? "
"....ahem....I dont know....."

And with that I moved on just to ward off other rhetoricals from my inquisitive uncle. That was the way I had started my career in the software industry. That was a long time back, and the memory had gathered dust in the posteriors of my mind. It was a long journey since then. I had switched over a couple of corporates, and had seen myself mature from a college nerd to a demanding manager. Securing promotions, one after the other, I had finally arrived at a stage where i wanted to steer a team of brilliant mind to create something sensational.
That was when I voluntereed to start the India development center for a dot com mammoth. It was a new challenge for me, and I was to now get a chance to touch fresh and unpolished talent, pretty much like the was I was, 10 years ago. Today, we have the set of most intelligent people in the country churning dollars at alarming pace, yet having fun at work.
During one such of our regular team adventure outings, we decided to chill out at the native town of one of the new hires. After a heavy lunch, we sat down for the pre-siesta talk. One particular loquacious uncle of the guy seemed to offer his gyan limitlessly. He seemed to be the most learned of the batch. Covering a breadth of topics, we finally converged to the way IT was driving the nation. The expert piched in his idea of 'yekonimic peroblams' and 'jawabs' the 'inphormation thaknology' was providing. He kept telling us about how 'bacha log' from the town move to bengeluru and bring in huge paisa, all because of this "out-score-singh" frenzy.
Being on the fore-front of this revolution, I wanted to share my experiences with the team. I breifed the uncle about our operations, and work work that gets done here the approximate value that we are adding from this center. He seemed impressed.
He paused for a minute, turned to me and asked.
"You said that you work for microshaft, right, so, who is proprietor , Babu?"
Well, after all these years in the industry .....
"....ahem....I dont know....."

Engineering Efficiency - Doubling the 'E' factor

2006-09-22T03:48:00.000+05:30

"Logically speaking, the efficiency of any solution to any problem in this world is a pseudo-random function of the number of people working against the problem."

In a engineering world where resetting systems is the way to get them up and running, this lemma seems to hold firmer. All "Engineers" must have encountered in their "professional" careers, situations where systems attain intelligence and start functioning better than expected. Engineers plainly honour this divine interference, and let things go on till all break down. There have also been frequent reports of systems breaking down without notice, attributed primarily to the sins of past lives.
With such rich culture in its folds, it was obvious for me to apply the principles to the world in general. Afterall, for them, the measurement of small blunders is not about dollars, but more about number of coffee breaks it can be discussed over !
Now, lets take the licesence plate problem in automobiles. The government of India came up with a wierd idea of having black-on-yellow for commercial and black-on-white number plates for private vehicles. Earlier, it was black-on-white for commercial and white-on-black for private vehicles. Any engineer would look at the redundancy in the change, and would just have let the private vehicle change the coloring scheme, allowing the commercial ones to keep their boards.
Another instance is the indication of vegetarian and non-vegetarain symbols on food products. Currently, vegetarian is a green circle, and non-veggie is a brown circle. Now why on earth would any engineer agree on just a color difference. When it is the question of maximising the difference, any engineer would prefer a totally orthogonal shape for it, why a different color ?? And why on earth, a brown and a green - printers print in Cyan, Magenta and Yellow.
Talking about the way currency is handled, the problem of returning change is a chronic problem. Why not a 500 rupee note be made by 5 hundred parts that can be torn and recombined ? By induction, we must allow all units of currency to be torn and recombined.
Talking about the date-time issues, why can't a day just have 10 hours, an hour have 100 minutes and so on, similar to a metric system. How easily could computing become. And why cant all months have same number of days ?
And why must be a round pizza be served in a square (or even a hexogonal) box ? Why must a clock still continue to have 12 divisions. And why can't all of us have one timezone, just to do away with conversions.
Well, as an enginner, we may debate about the merits of these situations. But the fact remains that keeping all this far more effecient than chaning it all. So why did need to even write this blog, would not have not writing be more effiecient, if this was to be the conclusion ??

Min - Max

2006-08-02T20:54:00.000+05:30

The world finally came to a halt as Internet explorer completes downloading the residual images of this blog. Sriram looked up again at his creation, satisfied with the way he weaved the sinews of the storyline. To the others, this would be yet another blog, but very few realise the essence hidden between the lines of the story.
It had all started long back, when Vasumathi complained to Sriram, over a dinner, about the new excitement in life she was following. An year into this already, the job as a software engineer was no longer appealing. The lonliness of a twenty-something, far from home, had smitten her. Few friends and fewer challenges had driven her to the insanity of reading books. Finding nothing else, she picked up a random book from a cheap roadside peddler.
The book boldly read - "PsycoAnalysis, diving into the mind". Half way through, Vasumathi was already 'diving' into the subject. Her indomitable curiosity plunged her deeper into the matters; the dinner marked the end of her seventh book.
Vasumathi had got all her theory full, but she wanted to truly analyse someone. "This would make my life worth living, atleast I will now have something challenging to do", she reasoned to Sriram.
"On me " came the reply, though Sriram had no clue what Vasumathi would study about his innocent mind. After senatory deliberations, Sriram came up with his problem. He told her that he was a compulsive blogger, who was out of creativity of-late. His blogs were more distantly spaced, and he seemed to write 'verses' with hollow humour. Subjective to its gut, Vasumathi found a reap area to practice her knowledge. Hours of telephonic conversations over the work phones and minutes of googling over the subject during work time helped Vasumathi draw her conclusions.
Her 'subject', as she related, was supposed to be in love with a Neha, his college junior. He had made it a point to dedicate her a passing mention in every blog written. But recently, Sriram had discovered that Neha was involved with another gentleman, and seemed crestfallen. Losing his 'inspiration', Sriram was at loss of thoughts for newer blogs. Asserting the right reason, Vasumathi's job was then directed towards getting her 'subject' recover. This was followed by hours of councelling and advice, as the books had perfectly outlined. After all her decicated efforts, Vasumathi had finally succedeed in getting Sriram to write once again.
A mission well accomplished, Vasumathi headed home for a vacation. It was then that she came accross the 'Neha' Sriram had described. Moments of conversation let her conclude that Sriram and Neha were still great friends, they still corresponded daily. The story seemed to become clearer to her.
Had Sriram played this game to help Vasumathi practice her skill, to help Vasumathi get out of her boredom, the answer was still blur. Was she an object of a practical joke that cruel sriram had played on her. But she reasoned that he had reacted just as the books said, then where did her analysis go wrong. Calling up Sriram only resulted in a devilish chuckle, announcing to Vasumathi that she had lost......
Now back to work, Vasumathi has still not forgotten the game played on her. She non-chalantly opens her mail box and starts clearing the backlog of forwarded mails that had piled up during her vacation. There are a whole variety of them, chain letters, spam mails, "good morning" mails, a mail that said "He loved a girl, married another. One was his wife, the other his password".
Thrashing all of them, she returns to this blog Sriram has written. The story is good, just that the title is cryptic. She knows what to do. The next moment she opens the blogger page. Typing his user id, she hesitates not a second before typing his 'secret' password, a password that she otherwise would not have known. There she edits the post to type as the footnote, the meaning of the title, with the legendry victorious chuckle in her mind.........

* min-max is a name of an algorithm that is used in AI games. A system having a better look aheah was always a better gaming engine....

A call from hell...........

2006-07-20T12:43:00.000+05:30

"Please...... I am not interested. Thank you"
"But Sir, there are so many benifits....Ok Sir, No problems......Sorry for disturbing you....."

There goes another of my leads into the ditch. It had been a harsh morning. But I was used to these rebukes. After all, this had been my daily occupation for the last two months. That day was the last time, I would be out asking people for it, and i am looking forward to stop doing this.
The last two months were an exciting culmination of joy, sorrow, anger, frustration, and all those emotions that describe humanity. Just out of high school, I was in need of that "gorgeous" mobile phone, but was too proud to tax my parents for it. So i had decided to take up this summer job at the call center of an international bank. My daily routine included calling up people and convincing them to get our credit cards, getting scolded in the process. Over the time, I had a chance to meet the weirdest of characters that the earth shelters.
Getting phone numbers of people was tough, and convincing them to get the cards was tougher. It was during one such calls that I came across Ram. Apparently, like any other customer, he seemed harsh and uncooperative at the outset. However, as the conversation dragged on, I saw the typical salesperson in him. From then, there was no looking back. I convinced him to vouch for me to his friends. Extracting his contacts list, I spoke to these twenty something guys, all from the same background, but fundamentally different from each other.
Firstly, there was this one Mr. Parashuram. Very sceptive about credit cards, telling me that he could get one only if his financial advisor accepts the proposal. Not interested in the credit card, he was keener in getting me write stuff on his blog !!! Then there was Srikanth, a total no-no to anything that I was into, just because he was a golden duck in cricket, earlier in the morning. Mr. Karthik, never interested in talking to (about) me. There was this no-face Vidya, that typical girl who validates the actions of these brash guys. But of all this, I had a chance to meet then in person, something, that u never do when in a call center.
Thanks to Ram, i did visit him on a week end. My pre-conception was that they would be hardened professionals, burnt by the time spent before the computer. I was pleasently surprised to see these guys, still having that traces of a college student. Joking all the way, they had after all, not been consumed by the busy professional world. The typical open-minded conservatives, these guys were that whole bunch of loafers who keep the professional world ticking. Decent to their gut, I still remember those whispering comments when I requested Ram to show me his room !! Still wondering about the lenghthy opinionated discussion they would have had after I left !!! Over the phone, they were a personality apart.
Well, that was long back. I still maintain contacts with the group, and thanks to them for getting me leads. It was by their phone books that i could disturb every professional worth his penny, and get some morons, finally agree for the cards !! Thanks to them, I have finally got my mobile phone too.
Hey, Just a minute, here is my NEW phone ringing [ ;-) ] .......
"Hello Madam, I am from ICSCI bank. Would you like a credit card from our bank ?? It has so many benefits......."
Hey, I know what the answer to this must be, don't I ??
"Please...... I am not interested. Thank you"

Yenaku oru galfriend venum ada..........

2006-07-13T20:11:00.000+05:30

* The title is in Tamil and means I need a gal friend, and is the start os a very famous song

The logic seemed to be fine. So were the calculations flawless. And I finally had to accepts the facts of this revolutionary paper. I had cross checked it twice, and no change in the results. After all, the fault was not mine, it was the system that seems to be flawed !!!
Last week, i was caught hold of this e-mail making rounds in the mailing lists. It looked like an IEEE paper, filled with complex calculations, and perfect citations. The paper, titled "Why can't I get a girl friend", proved convincingly that it was not the mistake of an average guy to not have a girl friend. The blame was on nature, and its probablistic system. Just that the paper had a very westen outlook. This blog of mine may also be dubbed as an attempt to adapt the calculations to the regular Indian perspective.
So here is the mathematical proof. Consider an average Indian male like YOU (maybe a software engineer) who is single and looking.

So just as the paper starts, let me brief you with some facts and figures (Vijaykanth style).

Total population in India : 1,028,610,328
Out of this, getting a rural bride is not feasible, and the probability is quite low, given the interaction levels with the rural population, of a software engineer. So, rather than ruling it out, the rural population, lets say that we consider a rural feasibility factor of 'R'.
So total urban population = 286,119,689, out of which, 135,565,591 are females.

Of these, our average man would want to marry a girl in the group 19-25, and atleast a graduate, rural or urban.
That number turns out to be 2,856,492 , of whom 754,495 are already married on u
That leaves us with 2,101,997 potential sample space at the urban level.
On the rural side, the sample space = (810,417 [total] - 341,579[married] = 468838). This is to the multiplied by the rural feasibility factor 'R'.
As the senex does not churn out the girls committed, we may assume it to be normally distributed over the sample space. That may also be true over the intersection set of me liking a girl, and the girl liking me. So, considering the standard normal variate, and only girls in 'one standard deviation of the mean' (more deviations would make the girl unworthy of the AVERAGE guy!! )
Thats 68.26894921371 % of (2,101,997 + 468838R).

Now the probability of the 'average' guy meeting the girl could be looked as a Poisson distribution as 'events occur with a known average rate, and are independent of the time since the last event', a property of Poisson distribution. Thats leaves us at the threshhold of 'laws' of small numbers, giving a value of (lambda = 1), decreasews exponentially with time, leaving a mere e^-(1,429,357 + 318,809 R ) * 0.0162 = (23,155 + 5164 )R. This multiplied by the intersection of guy liking the girl, and girl liking the girl = (23,155 + 5154R) * 0.00153 = (35 + 7R)

Well, now to conclude, even if our 'average guy', YOU, as assumed in the start , meets any one of these 35+ girls, they would have just one reaction : "Man, you are such a nerd, looking to crazy calculations for something thats about love and emotions. You really dont deserve a girl friend !!!! "

References :
http://www.censusindia.gov.in/census_online/Population/Total_Population.aspx
http://www.censusindia.net/results/fseries_tables/F11_India.pdf
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cumulative_distribution_function
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poisson_distribution
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Normal_distribution

Interview ??? Nay nay, it was a batter view......

2006-07-01T14:50:00.000+05:30

This is an annual ringamorale, and I had been a part of it a couple of years back. Call it repetitive excitement or a chrnoic evil, I loved being at the other end of the ritual this time. The academic year was nearing its completion and the fresh-born engineers were sharpning their nerves to be a part of some of the most institutions that shaped the IT savy future of the country. The profound solemness of the situation had sent even the lazy scurrying for the long forgotten text books.
This year, our company had got its best man (thats me !!!) on for their recruitment drive. I was to accompany a set of veterans to this vernacular college and pick up the best in the multitude to serve our institution. Being my first attempt, i wanted my best foot forward.
The day is still vivid in my memory.....carefully dressing, getting the shrit and pant shades matching, selecting the shiniest shoes and the perfect tie to top it all.
I arrived right on time at the hall, and could relate to the tense students listening to every word my chief was addressing. The interview process soon commenced, and I was escorted to the place where i was to get a couple of people into our organisation.
As i passed on of the corridors, I still remember that smart, fattish, excited boy telling his friends to calm down, and that this was just an interview. His aura of confidence caught my attention.
There was this "most beautifullest" kind of nymph beside him, clad in a gorgeous greenish white suit, trying to get her nerves back. This young, seemingly intelligent guy was cajoling her tensed form. It is strange how these just-out-of-school girls morph to mirror-breaking beauties ; this girl looked even "more beautifuller" in her tensed look (I knew i was the cause of her fear, as expected !!).
I entered the interview room and started filtering the candidates sheepishly, retaining only the best of the best. The pattern was the same. All intelligent men and women, struggling to keep cool, were babbling out answers.
It was then that he entered the hall and forwarded his file. I read the name alond "Sathya Nagharajun", and looked up to take a glance at his face. He was the same Mr. Confidant, but i'd love to call him Mr.Arrogant. I kenw my job from the start. I flung the toughest of the questions at him. He dodged some, yet gracefully failing at the rest. But this was not achieving my goal.
I slowly sterred the interview towards general topics, asking his opinions. They were plain and simple, always supported y reasons and facts. Getting on other arguementative topics, i tried to arouse his fury. But his spine seemed to be dipped in ice.
He had mentioned that he liked painting, and so i told him to draw something ; to take a break from my repeated failure to get him emotional.
After prolonged time, he exhibited the cute monkey on that was sketched on the paper. His hand had done magic. I told him the monkey was cute, but when i asked if it was his imagination, he answered in negative. He added that it was an inspiration from someone. Sensing my uneasiness, he told me that i was the inspiration. This caught me unawares. Now, was he telling me that I was a monkey, or did he mean that i was cute ??
Not able to bear it any longer, i thanked him to leave. I had actually failed in getting him emotional. I did not like that, but had to live with it.... defeated by a boy !! I had already made my last move.
Later that evening, the results were announced. I was standing in a corner watching people getting happy about joining us. On the far side, i saw that beautiful girl running frantically. She stopped near "Sathya", gave him a big hug and announced that he had actually cleared it (Thanks to me !!). Hearing that, Sathya could not control himself, and started dancing in joy, all his pals joining him. Now, that was quite a celebration.
Well........, this was a pleasurable moment for him. I had ultimately got him excited, frenzied, crazed, hper-active, emotional...... I had won the battle atlast. Yay !!!
Dude, Men are men, boys will always be boys.......

Hmmmm.... but waiting to see u here in my team Sathya...

To be or Not to be.......

2006-05-18T13:55:00.000+05:30

I had always wished for a holiday like this, and I finally got my wishes fulfilled. It almost seems like a dream, but a pinch of reality actually pains. Well, I was finally in Switzerland with my family, my younger sister and my parents for a brief, but enjoyable vacation. Chasing butterflies all day long, and basking in the cooling sun, life had never been as queer as this.
All this seemed too good to be true, and I felt the unnerving peril that was haunting to destroy all this. It did happen, and it shattered my mirror of joy, reflecting at me a million fragments of my happiness. The revelation was quick, shocking more so, and I am still not able to digest the impact completly.
The fact that this stale truth was hidden from me for the last 18 years, since I was born, and I know of it now, from a third person, and only in a part, was in itself unsettling.
It was yesterday that Nagaamma, our domestic help with us for more than a quarter a century, spilt the beans. To quell my regular boyish stubborness, she blurted out that I actually had an elder sister. It was fine to know that, I mean, I always wanted an elder sibling, looking over me, but knowing I had one only wanted me to be in her care. Being the eldest in the family is a big responsibility....
It was also revealed that the she died, just a couple of days after she was born. Then the entire story came out in parts. It seems that she was a nymp with blue eyes and a fair long structure. She was declared the cutest baby by all who came to catch a glimpse of her face. Some even boasted that she could get Cleopetra jealous. But then, suddenly, it all evoporated into the void. She just stopped living, and all wept for her.
By now, my mind was already articulating a universe, where she would have lived on and I'd be her younger brother. I was imagining all the tantrums i could have conspired, and the million ways she'd come up, to pacify me. I could visualise the times when she would get scolded for all the mischief i create. My mind vibrated at all the priorities I could get over her, in all affairs. I sure would have loved all the cuddly affection I could be a target of.
She teaching me for my exams, she lulling me bed time stories, she helping me overcome my fear of darkness, she playing the craziest games with me, and letting me win all the time, I know I had missed a lot of happiness.
Just as my mind was drooling over this all, my younger sis came running to me and jumped on to my lap. In her distinct style, she invited me for some crazy game ,her newest discovery. I trailed her excited jogs. My mind realised another, bigger truth. If I would have had the elder sister, I could not have had this younger cute lovable devil.
The satisfaction from getting scolded for her, letting her win, pacifying her, are all better. I love teaching her for exams, telling her that there is no monster in the dark, or just cuddling and tickling her. Brushing away the thoughts, I started playing with her, in the meadows of Switzerland, even as my mind sang..... Sissy dear.... I really really love
you.....
Being the eldest in the family is a big responsibility.... ;-)

Bangalore to Madurai - A Gal and a Guy

2006-05-08T18:32:00.000+05:30

As the train finally decided to blow the whistle over the setting sun and chug past the platform, I could see my destiny flee from my grip. I was still a good 10 feet away from it, and was functioning on adrenalin. The heavy baggage clumsily clinged to me as i frantically darted towards the departing train. After a good chase,I finally got aboard, drenched in stinking sweat.
Shoving my way across the multitude, I finally located my reserved seat on the side berth and placed my luggage on it. A delicate moan caught my attention, and I peered above my over-towering travel kit to see an 'angel' furthur ahead. My eyes were glued to her lustrous form, even as the moans grew to wails.
It was then I realised that my baggage was placed over her delicate legs, and she was in agony. Reluctantly removing my gaze, I adjusted my baggage and settled next to her. Joyous that she was to be my companion for the night, I figured out that I had made the worst start I could. A long sermon of apologies followed despite her repeatedly forgiving me. As the train moved on, she pulled her Erich Segal novel over her face, and I pulled my eyes over her form. Draped in a long blue skirt, her torso radiated the glamour of the spaghettis she was wearing. Her long hair flying in the wind often got entangled in her metal ear rings. A contemporary dupatta was carefully wrapped around her curved body, teasing her knees. The metallic leather belt holding on to the skirt reflected the dim lights of the compatrment. With a substantial amount of touchup, her face seemed rosy, with lusty red lips. Eyes darkened with a careful application of an eye-liner, she seemed a perfect representation of a modern day working woman.
Suddenly, her mobile phone let out siren, and she attended the call. Acting nonchalant, I picked up some reading material, with my ears still glued to her conversation. The talk was lenghty and meaty....

"ya, Joe here " [so her name was Joe ?? hmmmm......as gorgeous as Jothika....]
"Oh honey, i kew u'd call"
[silence, she was listening]
"hmmmm.....mmmm......oooooomph...baby, i love you tooo...ummmmmmma...."

That was one of the longest kisses I have witnessed, even the likes of Emraan Hashmi would turn green. Her language seemed to be accented with American slangs. Though Tamil did appear at times, marking its difference from English would be difficult. But all through the time, my literary neurons were trying to comprehend the celetic language used !!

"oh yeah, lets see baby" [Baby ? oh, so that was a small child at the other side was it ??]
"hmmm...bring it on" [ bring it on ?? why cant that thing be brought OFF to her ??]
"fine.....fine......gotcha" [ got what ??? got cha ?? ]
"hey, cut the crap..." [ why would anyone do that. And cutting crap ??? cheee cheeee ]
"anyways, that was your choice" [wrong english, no agreeing of verb with the subject ]
"i kinda got it....." [ kinda.... word not found in dictionary ]
"like i care....." [ where is the subject in the sentence ?? ]
"im not sura but i liking it" [sura - thats a type of a fish pa...sura meen]
"what the fuck...." [I think the question is not complete..... and the language foul]
"balls to him......" [cricket or tennis balls ?? ]

Failing to understand any furthur, I consoled myself that her draped urbanisation had penetrated deeper into her self, I lulled myself to sleep, with the music of her strange language.
The next morning, as i woke up, she seemed to have left. I had overslept, and the train was already rushing into Madurai city. Hoping to catch a glimpse of her, I jumped down, scanning the entire perimeter. The compartment seemed empty, except for some sleepish souls. From the far end of the compartment, I saw a silhoutte moving towards me. In a moment I realised the metamorphisis that had fallen over the nymph. Her metal was all gone, except for the classical heavy ear-rings, her dupatta wrapped over the skirt, like a half-saree. All the other articles seemed to have shoved into a yellow cloth bag, all makeup gone,, just tinges of the eye-liner remaining, and fresh flowers adorning her neatly tied hair. On the other hand, she had a copy of skanda shasti kavacham. That's an image of a typical localite !!
Just like me, the train was stunned, and refused to budge, as the station approaced. She disembarked and moved to a whole clan who had come to recieve her. The men seemed dark and feirce, in spotless white shits and dhotis. The women seemed to be bigger replicas of this girl, with heavier ear rings. She reached out to one of the women, touched her feet, and proudly announced......aaathaa, naan paas aitaeen.......

S.W.A.T. Professionals

2006-04-20T11:02:00.000+05:30

With the entire week burdening us with its excessive dosage of personality development classes, I was always eagerly looking forward to the validectory of this ringamorale. As a company policy, the precious employees were given an opportunity to be drilled by industry experts on team dynamics and return-productivity analysis crap.
Looking back, i wonder at the damage taken by my brain. enduring the misery; I was actually pondering over the take-aways and pointers, walking back home last evening. To my astonishment, i even tried to 'embedded' those values into my personality.
There was some lectures about being competetive and the way one must challenge oneself. The point that the corporate world today is driven by challenges and performance was the only thing i understod in that five hour session. We were pounded with idealogies of competing with the best in the proximity.
Shaken by the fact, I decided to put my competetive ability to test. I looked around and picked a dark, well built silhoutte marching at a pace, nearly equal to me. Carrying his well-built frame, the man seemed to be lost in his thoughts. Placing this safe bet, i decided to race him. I 'strolled' faster, gaining edge over him every minute.
At another point of time in the session, there was a discussion pertaining to guaging the progress. We were mentored on setting milestones along the corporate pathway, and informing ourselves regaring our progress. Trying to extract the best out of it, I looked ahead and saw a lamp post, standing as a marker. Setting that as my benchmark, i resolved to overtake hime before the marker.
My pace hastened. I gained the lead. I looked back frequently to ensure my safe lead. Finally, i crossed the marker, emerging victorious. Safisfied with my first victory, I snailed furthur. Seeing my slowed down pace, he quietly gained on me and then, suddenly overtook me. Unable to accelerate, I see him moving futhur ahead. His steps seemed longer, and his advantage, now bigger.
It was then i realised the profoundness of yet another take-away of the session. We were not to lose focus on attaining smaller goals. The exact words were "Milestones must never be your tumbling blocks". Realising my folly, i targetted the next lamp post (milestone) , and worked towards it.
Passing a few more, the competetion seemed close. By now I was pretty sure that he was aware of the battle in my mind. Ashamed to lose now, i kept galloping the entire stretch till home. The lead now was a hair's width, and both seemed near exhausted, still functioning on the little adrenalin we pumped out. As i neared the door, he was there, not willing to lose at this last moment. No sooner did my mother open the gate, than he jumped in, declaring his ultimate triumph over me.
That was yesterday. This morning, I met one of those "market" experts. I could not resist telling him about yesterday, and in the most vivid words, described how I had competed with my own self, my shadow, and how much of the concepts of the session I had used. I described . Evidently impressed by his effectiveness, he gave a chuckle, and placed his hand on my shoulder. "This is impressive. But try harder tonight son, dont give up.You'll beat him one day, and that day, you'll be greater than yourself. Well, anyways, I think am gonna use this as an anonymouse example of effectiveness of our methods in the session today. "
Taking those words I parted. "Try harder", he had advised me, but my mind was working in the other direction. I knew I was going to walk home slower. The next thing i did was to call up the electrician, and tell him to place a bulb atop the doorway of our house, with its switch outside. And as for the competetiveness, bring it on baby,... lets see who gets home first......

The title : S.W.A.T. is a typical personality development term, meaning, Strengths, Weakness, Availabilities and Threats. Its a regular analysis done in the corporate circles. But to me, they have always meant - Silly weanings and tantrums !!!

C - Biscuit

2006-04-18T20:49:00.000+05:30

Using the last supplies of energy and sanity left after half score hours staring at the computer, I drag myself to my home, every night. My dwelling seems just more monotonous. Nevertheless, the 'stauch' bachelor in me always lulled me to better pastures as I lay in that dungeon. I always ensured that my mind did no more work than required, just calculate the stategies to dodge traffic, and cross busy roads. Just that with every passing day, the traffic seemed more consistant, and my mind, more inefficient. I had been repeating this chore, right from the day I landed here, nine months back
All along this nightly errand, i could recognise the patters that had been set. The same faces that always crossed me, the same vehicles that zoomed pass me, the same BMTC bus that took that same sharp curve, hurrying on its last trip of the day.
The recent addition to this list was a dog. In the recent past, I had seen that regular blue BPO-van run over it, smashing its leg. Collecting what was left of its fragile skeleton, it settled in the neighbourhood, yelping in pain. That was seven months back.
Recently again, that long faced stranger kicked the dog, swinging it to my vicinity. Luckily for it, I was carrying some biscuits, the regular substitute for my dinner. I dropped some near it, as I passed it.
Since then, it had been escorting me, from the main road, to the dark alley, getting its share of biscuits at the end of the journey. It occasionally tagged a little furthur asking for more, but i never incereased its share. It was walking on the three legs that were remaining of it; and courtsey nudged me to slow down for its sake.
Today was no different, except that there was a little more chilness in the air, and a little less illumination on the streets. I crossed the road at the regular curve as i always do. The dog today was on the other side. Sensing my presence, or rather, the presence of dinner, I hurriedly dashed to cross the road. Screeching of tires, a sudden break, and a couple of abuses.
The result of the bargain saw the dog, getting its remaining skeleton ruptured.
I waited for some time, to allow it to get up and follow me. It did not move. Out of curiosity, i walked towards its shattered corpse. Its state indeed was pathetic, the last remains of life slowly ebbing away. I felt the biscuits in my hand, and then looked at it. I dropped it at the soon to be mortal remains of the dog, and walked on.
Well, nothing had changed, just that I would have to waste the biscuits I carry from tomorrow.....

....... and whats about the title ??? Well, the name actually is sea-biscuit. A sea biscuit is hardened food that sailors carry on long jounerys. Its so hard that only after soaking it in water for hours makes it fit for consumption.... and why a 'c' biscuit ??? Even if i would have told you its a 'sea' biscuit, you software-someone would have interepreted it as a 'c'-biscuit.
Its application here ?? well,... today's life has made us all so insensitive and hardened, like the sea biscuit, that nothing really matters to us, except ourselves. Life is just as it is daily, a routine. Have we really forgotten that we not in a permanent world, but a world where change is the only permanent thing......

The Tom and Jerry Show

2006-04-04T19:10:00.000+05:30

Though it may be a libreal overkill to start this verse on a philosopical note, the essence of the title strikes a chord in my heart. The world indeed is a cat and a mouse game, and the cleverer escapes as the winner!!
There was a time when I was a part of a very similar show. The cat and the mouse game was in full flow during that era, just that there were far too many Jerrys for a single Tom to control. I am refering to that sacred times when our books got the feel of our fingers, and we 'decided' to study - for our internal tests in the college. 'Real studying' was descoped, and 'sincerity' was a God word. Left with no other option, the students took sides. The weaker souls gave in to the perils of low marks, only the strongest prepared for the masquarde (no, its not copying or cheating... for heavens sake). There were a subtle few who did manage to 'study', but..... God save their poor souls......amen.....
A detailed analysis of these tactful Jerrys, successful in escaping the vigil of Tom (the invigilators !!) reveals the level of sophistication mastered by diligent practice. The most common escape trick was to keep the text book on the lap and dutifully copy the musings into the test note. It was simple, yet very effective against those slack Toms. There are times when the Tom actually understands the problem of Jerry, and actually helps him out, well, i was lucky to encounter a few Toms like this. Additions to this trick involved dropping the book, or sliding it in when under the scan radar. The slid had to be effortless, to evoke the slightest suspicion. Some even performed it so well that the book was rotated a full circle, so as the reveal the least amount of it from under the desk, on the lap. It meant reading text upside down, but this is where practice pays.
Another trick on Tom was to decorate the test note with the vital statistics before hand. The location of the answers varied from the last page of the test note to small piece of papers at our hand. This was faster as it did not require the Jerrys to handle bulky books, but required collecting the data. There was one Jerry who did it, and the rest were clones.
Turning pages however posed a problem, Toms could easily be alerted. For this reason, Jerrys invented the art of writing small text along the lines of the margins. From a distance, it blended with the margin and gave the Jerrys tactical advantage.
The Toms uncovered this quick, and started to inspect all test notes taken inside the exam hall. This made the situation dangerous for the jerrys, but did not deter them from innovation. Now the pre-written text found space between the previously written tests, and was virtually undecipherable.
Another dimension to this trade was added by those elusive Jerrys who never appeared on the stage (the exam hall) , but were perfect in getting the notes submitted for correction, through 'agents'. There were also variations like putting important data on desks, walls, and at times, even on the black board in a steganographed format.
The usual habits of sneeking into the neighbour persisted, but was soon discovered to be unfruitfull. The reason attributed to this was that more people were turning towards becoming 'master' Jerrys.
The pathetic Toms did try to get the Jerrys, using measurs like mixing different classes, and gobbling the Jerry when caught. Mixing classes only ensured that the order of the Jerry Knights was carried on to the next generation, gobbling Jerrys was a non-issue, Jerrys were seldom caught by the soft hearted Toms!!
There are quite a lot of other practices, better than these no-brainers, i prefer to maintain their confidentiality, least Toms uncover this secret treasure of the Jerry brotherhood. But one thing for sure, as long as there are exams, this show will entertain people, the TOM and JERRY SHOW.....

BULLSHIT, Bingo

2006-03-21T21:02:00.000+05:30

It is sometimes said that humanity has the ability to feel the future, making the genere of its species, closer to its animal ancestors. My instincts warned me of a boring day ahead, and when i did reach the office, i was not surprised. Though my mail client took a couple of minutes to load up, i saw my inbox loaded with meeting invites.
It seemed to stretch across the day, with the first one firing off at 12. At office at 11:45:34 am, i decided to devote the remaining time to treat myself the only relaxation i was to have in the day. I opened Firefox and hit the stumble button*, launching myself to a random site. After some philosophy sites that i wholeheartedly shoved down, i came across this site. This was when the entire game started.
The idea of the game is simple. Each player is given a unique matrix of words (like in the diagram) commonly used in meetings, and has to strike them off, as they are used. The one with a sequence (row/ column/ diagonal) complete had to stand up and announce "BULLSHIT". Giving it a touch of originality (as most IT professionals do), we decided that the the one who has the least number of sequences marked at the last fifteen minutes will have to shout that "safe word".
Armed with laptops (and some, with it printed on papers, neatly hidden inside writing pads), we proceeded to make the most of the meeting. It started with the usual introduction that slowly melted into its fullest flow. The game had also started.
I realised that it was after a long time I was listening to something with attention of this magnitude, lest i miss words. I occasionally looked up at my poker faced friends, all seemingly more attentive than me. I realised that the words seem to be used very frequently, many uttered a multiple times. My luck was shinig bright, and I found myself happily scratching, cris-crossing the matrix.
IT took me some time to realise that the words were getting orthogonal, i had not yet got a sequence yet !! Panic stuck, i pressed my ears harder to grab them. Cheating was ruled out; there were the smartest brains in the country listening to the lecture.
Time galloped, and i noticed occasional cheers on the visages of my adversaries. With an assumption that every cheer meant a word scratch, my calculations states that they clearly had a good probability of having a minimum two rows or columns out. And here was i, with nothing scratched out.
Thinking of a plan B (typical to IT professionals again), i devised a stategy to utter that "safe word", if ever i lost. I designed that if i had to, then i'd get up at some random moment and tell everyone ".....but sirs, what here seems like BULLSHIT is actually a culmination of.......", that must do it !! Evaluating all contingencies, i finally reassured myself of the robustness of the plan.
Well, the meeting went on and on and on......
And we kept scratching out words, many of them, multiple times. And suddenly,......the chairperson stood up and announced the conclusion. The meeting was over !!! It was bolt from the blue,... none of us had lost ;-). Thanking our lucky stars, we moved out, grinning at each other.
Back at my desk, I prepared myself for the second one of the day. I picked up the notes, my pen and the writing pad. From my pad, mischief peered out. It read aloud..... BULLSHIT, Bingo......

* Stumble upon is an awesome plugin for firefox, that loads a random (and believe me, great) page on clicking it

Signature Style

2006-03-17T17:01:00.000+05:30

I still remember the first time I had done it. I knew it was not going to be easy, but this was my chance to prove that i was a man. I knew that i had practised it mentally lots of time before i reached the designated place. Yet, it was my first time, and i could feel the butterflies in my stomach. Not that I feared doing it, it was supposed to be so simple. Not that I was afraid of her, she was supposed to be so friendly. Just that this was my "maiden" attempt, and i feared that.
So, carefully taking rechecking all the requsites, i finally did reach the place. She was sitting there, alone, as if she was waiting for me. I nudged towards her, keeping my steps as small as possible. It took ages to near her, the inevitable was to happen. I looked up to her. She told me what to do. I heard every part of it carefully. I had heard that all have their styles of doing it, and i wanted to establish a style of my own. Hmmm....and i did do it, vigorously yet hesistantly. She looked at me, then looked down. She nodded her head. I knew i had failed. I knew she was not satisfied. She looked up, and softly told me to go home, practice, and then return when i was ready.
Well, that was a long time ago. Nothing has changed. The lady at the bank had not approved of my mis-matching signatures in the account opening application form. Though i managed to trace duplicates at the requisite places in that form, life was only getting harder. More cheques were returning back under the pretext of wrong signatures. None of my formal applications were getting accepted without a frown. I was just pulling on. It changed many things in my life.
I didnot go to the under-graduate school, the cheque i had sent as the application fee had been turned down. I could not go abroad for a job, my passport was refuesed; the same reason. I never re-applied, i predicted the results anyways. Sometimes, i look back at those old days and give them a chuckle. But for my signature, i would have been sitting in a software firm, churning out mindless code for some rich tycoon.
Well, today, i am free, and in a sense, successful too. Professionally, i am a writer. The one who keeps those software engineers entertained between their hectic schedules. My audience do adore my work. My publisher benovelently deposits my money into my wife's account. She is kind enough to let me use her ATM card. I am happy. I am satisfied now. I know I have passed it.
Just that i do have occassional troubles . Well, a fan just turned in to get an autograph. What I did, unsettled her. I could do no better, but atleast i now had a style of my own. My wife does get angry on this, occassionally. She calls it ignorance, but i prefer to call it technology. I now punch my thumb (biometrics) mark on all those autographs that i give. Atleast they are constant, and dont have mis-matches. Atleast i have a style now.... my signature style......

9-2-11

2006-03-16T20:49:00.000+05:30

Based on a true story, something that happened to a close associate of mine.....

Darkness has slyly crept over the sun rays on the horizon, making the sky radiant with its blackness. I had barely noticed the evening fading, as i prolonged the process of churning code to that last extra course. My fingers were giving in; my brain had already retired. Aware that anything more that this could ruin the entire week ahead, i packed my bags.
Throwing it over my shoulders, I hurried past the big iron gates of the office, back home. I felt my steps getting shorter and faster. My mind raced towards my cozy bedding. This day was no different than the others, except that the work was harder, and the night, darker. I peered at my wrist watch as it chimed along. The digits seems strangly rounded, and it took my mind some time to establish that it was exactly 10:00:00. This discovery only hastened me furthur.
Sensitive to the dangers lurking in the streets of this rich city, i slowly slid all my treasures into my humble looking bag. It was already late, and i did not want to attract any unwarranted attention. The street lamps kept swinging by my sides as i rushed past them. The roads were quite deserted, except for the occassional roars of speeding taxis, commuting those night workers - a class of people who had become the identity of this nation.
I negotiated the narrow curves of the main road elobratly avoiding its corners which are excellent strike points for the zillion street dogs of the city. I was thirsty with the excersion enforced on my body and my sweat found its way to my lips. Too busy to even wipe it off, i jogged on. That moment, i noticed it. It was a bigger cabbie, driving sloly along the corners of the road. It thought it to be strange as all drivers at this hours challenged Schumacher on the streets.......unless this gentleman was waiting to pick up that random BPO worker. My path was leading towards the taxi, and i could feel the fear in me slowing my feet down. I had heard of kidnappings and robberies, and with the cab positioned right under that fused street lamp, the setting seemed inductive.
I could not turn back at this juncture, going back would be even more painful now. So i walked as diligently as i could, in the proximity of the taxi. I made sure that i was as far on the footpath from the cab as i could manage. I reasoned that it was safer to run from a snarling dog, instead of sword weilding gentlemen. I entered the audio range of the wagon and i heard a man call out. I did not respond; the man called louder. I was in no intention to stop. The cab switched to its reverse gear and raced towards my position. The footpath ended, giving the cab a stategic position to stop me.
I stopped, and the man asked me for some way. My fingers pointed the direction it was easiest to show, and told him to go straight ("to Hell", i wanted t o say that, but reserved my words, considering the time of the night and his stategic advantages). Suddenly a light flashed inside the car. Used to the darkenss, my eyes felt the initial numbness. I made out the silhoutte of a couple of women 'sitting' in. Colouration to the image returned and i made out that most inside was weatish brown. She purred from inside. The noise was too dispersed to comprehend. I stared wide-eyed at them. She said it again. "Only 2000 rupees , you wanna...."
That was sufficient to fire me to the emergency mode. I passed one hand over my belongings. Feeling their safety, i sprinted ahead. The car, still with the reverse gear on, followed me. Seeing no route to escape, my feet dragged me across the road, to its other side. The cab was not able to perform that maneover, and left me free. I hurried home, my heart still in my mouth. When reached home, I slept peacefully..... and ALONE......

why this title :: well coz the time was something between nine to twelve. And all i could do to handle this situation was a nau do gyarah (its hindi for the nmbers 9 2 11. It means RUN !!! Well, i escaped..... ;-)

The Foot Soldier

2006-03-08T21:04:00.000+05:30

"vrooooooooooooooom..... vrooooooooooooooom"
"dae, stop it da, its irritating.... Its your pillion that takes all the JERKS."
"oh yeah, what the hell would u do on a Monday morning, stuck in this traffic"
"dont curse a Monday dude, u spend one seventh of your lives on Monday"
"aaaaaaaaaaa......Its, irritating da, so please stop your fundaes... Are we not stuck here for some 30 minutes...."
"correction. Its exactly 34 minutes and 25 seconds.."
"are you sure ?? look at your watch again .... the seconds is not right.."
"Its your turn shut up now."
"Fine, fine I give up. Anyways, we are gonna get late to office. I could better have walked. Atleast, thats a good exercise."
"Dude, its not a great idea walking on foot... i've had a bad experience with it already"
"Hey, whats wrong in walking, you dont get stuck like this atleast. "
"you dont, but you run into bigger risks. these days, the dont follow even the traffic rules. They drive on even on the foot path !!!"
"You cant blame them. The nice thing about these rules is that there are so many of them to choose from."
"But then, you would never like walkin, specially with a hundred bikes ready to honk your senses off"
"They got it right. Sometimes, terror is the best form of communication"
"All of them were using the footpath da, to negotiate their way through the traffic"
"If everyone was coming your way, then you were probably in the wrong lane dude."
"Huh, not me, it was them, they were on the wrong way da"
"Chum, a piece of advise da. In the fight between you and the world, i suggest back the world."
"Its serious da. I neary had such a bad accident that ......."
"... that you nearly got yourself amputated !!! Dude, nothing can go worse than the worst !!"
"Hey, I think there must be a law against driving on the foot path da"
"I think there indeed is a law. May be they just left it blank !!! "
"Shut up will you. And you know, when i shouted at them, they shouted back, as if it was MY mistake !!! Huh"
"There goes a saying.... To err is human. To admit it is a fool."
"You know i went for the four-wheeler lessons. Thank god i attended only half, and ended up with a two wheeler, its tougher inside a car..."
"Hey, are you listening to me ??"
"No, was kinda lost in thought.... thinking about those junkie drivers'
"Yes, yes, i knows thats an unfamiliar territory, thats why you got lost"
"Thank you for the humiliation, but man, i am getting worried. That Manager of mine is gonna blast me.."
"Hey, he's a stressed man. Its not easy to inspire a cartload of frogs to work daily... "
"Looks like stress makes you get to your best. Dae, please get me out of this mess da. Its like a battle"
"Yeah, i am the cavalry, the cars are the heavy cavalry, the lorries are the heavier caval........."
"Can you stop it. Dae, the foot path is free da, take that, and roar ahead da. Then i think we can make it in time"
"Footpath a....dude, then what about the infantry of this battle da.... were you not on that side"
"Raise your accelerator..... speed up da, i am getting late...... and as of the foot soldiers....damn them..... "

foo

2006-03-03T20:54:00.000+05:30

".... parash, must i really open it", I asked myself as i lay the errie parcel on the desk. The moment I touched it, my mind touted that it contained something profound. Curiosity eventually got even of me, and I did manage to unwarp the contents. It seemed like a game inside. I was not expecting it to be of the standards of juman-ji, but the fantasy boy in me urged me to believe it. The label plainly said Happy Birthday, and the caption printed on it attractively announced that it was a jigsaw puzzle.
Being a Saturday afternoon, with me in no mood to budge from my current position, i decided to extract fun out of this generous puzzle someone had sent me. I summouned a newspaper, and speread it to serve as the place holder for the piecies. The box said that there were 1500 pieces, and my mid was already working on a stategy to secure all pieces, and lose none, to keep the game alive. I tried to look at the final picture, but my benefactor had dubiously pasted a paper over it. Etched in black ink, the words on the rear side read. "Dude, this is like life, a jigsaw. You dont know what you life finally is like, so just go ahead and play." The philosophy sedimented in my mind.
That was more than a welcome i had expected, nonetheless, i picked up my maiden piece from the rubble. It had the picture of the bright sun. "So, this jig saw was is like life is it", i remarked, "so, its that i have to place each piece, representing the people in my life at the appropriate places, to fulfill my life". I know i was getting very philosophical, but i still looked on the first place, not knowing where to start. The sun reminded me of the most important person in my life. It reminded me of my inspiration, the energy it gives me. It reminded me of my father. I placed the piece at the center of my life... i mean the place holder paper. Next was a cloud, and i knew that represented my mother. Standing near the the sun, its purpose was to protect my from the fierce heat of the sun. Shedding tears when the earth goes barren, i sensed the clouds smile at me lovingly. The next was a stream, flowing playfully accross the mountains. The splatter it was creating in the image forced me to personify it to be my younger sister. Always playful, it was lovingly watched over by the sun and the cloud.
I realised that this was too much to be a coincidence, for all my loved ones show up one after the other, and my eagerness to complete this "juman-ji" exploded. I hurridly picked up the other pieces. There were a variety of trees, short and tall, fat and slim. Were they my friends, coming in all shapes and sizes, sharing with me the fruits of their labour, granting me their wide root of knowledge ? I was not sure, as my handly fraily picked up another piece. Then the garden developed, with the bright flowers in it. Now i know this is getting dangerous. I would never want anyone to know that those are the numerous girls i had fanthomed in my dreams. Fragnant and beautiful, they lent their charm to the entire picture. As i filled up the garden, my hand came accross a beautiful rose, red in color, adding a whole new flavour to the picture. In it I could see the girl of my dreams, looking up and seducing me.
Time fastened its pace, and i kept completing the image with the other pieces. They encompassed all the characters ranging from my relatives to those pesky and irritating bees (bad friends) adorning my life. The picture was nearly complete, with all the characters falling in place. Yet, there was something missing, and i realised it to be a dark piece with some thorny bushes, threatning my to cut down the beauty of my the world i envisaged. Without any choice, i dumped it at the farthest corner i could find. Well, the picture was nearly complete, and i was feeling the ruch to see the final output of my efforts. There were still some pieces missing, but i was able to make out the image.
Suddenly, i heard a bark. And then a swish. In a minute, it was all gone. My pet dog, in its signature style pounced and mauled mu creation. Well, my mistake, i dont know where to place it !!! I thought i had got the answer for life, just that the question had just changed ......

PS : If you are wondering why the blog is entitled foo, then here is the explanation. You must have noticed foo in computer programs, acting as a placeholder instead of the actual name. Well the jigsaw was a place holder. For a historic reference of "foo", check these out :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Foo
http://catb.org/~esr/jargon/html/F/foo.html
http://rfc.sunsite.dk/rfc/rfc3092.html

Will you click this ???

2006-03-02T19:37:00.000+05:30

(When you've come here, why not read this ...)

With the day laden with business proposals and venture stategies, it would be no less appropriate to populate this entry with some business sense. Aligning my mind with this essence, i have lately started thinking in terms of business, rather than lines of code. Every single code fragment appears to be of some monetary value i'd be delivering to the client. So much financial context warrants a blog entry in tune to this scenerio. There was a time when management studies and marketing intricacies were reserved for the elites with degrees.
The tide of time has grounded all such conversative lines of thought, throwing open the ports of fortune to the commoners. Be it the 'absurd' success of the series "Indian Idol", or the hype surrounding the ONE INDIA - STD One rupee plan by BSNL, ideas seem to spring from the consumerish multitude. I've even seen established technocrats leaving elite jobs, hoping to get that simple idae in their mind working. As i entered the internet today, with the mail, and starting up my Yahoo Messenger, my mind devoted some of its processing time to the variety of advertisements vying for my attention. None succeeded though, as i heaved my way straight into my mail box to see the mails. Same while opening Yahoo Messenger and ICQ, too much of irritating junk at places where i dont bother to look. I even pondered over the effectiveness of there ads. It somehow seemed like throwing stones to hit a random fish in the ocean. Nonetheless, companies continue to pump in money to woo customers.
Well, I was just thinking about this idea of mine. What if some company was to put up an advertisement in my status message of Yahoo Messenger / ICQ / MSN etc. The place has not been utilised yet, and i've seen people putting up quotations, songs they are listening to, or any other ramdom crap, they think worthwhile. I was just wondering, why was not this place used to putting up ads. It would be like, say Nike crying out aloud next to your contact's name "I use Nike, its great". Or, may be it updates the cricket score, wil link to some cricket sensitive brand ?? The effect is atleast equal to the third person shahruk telling you to go for it. May be any new product can use this as a pre-launch stategy for promotions. The adorners can be offered discounts / special offers. I imagine that software products / services may benefit more, by getting geeks endorse beta versions of products to the lesser mortals. The geeks may get to try the product first, and live with the pride of it. The powers of Viral marketing is established, i was just wondering if this can be a channel for it.
There are problems in this, as i see at the outset. The accumulation of endorsers, and payment may get messy, if it is not regulated. The idea is hot only as long as it is new, the shine wears out as time rubs it hard ; maybe thats why pre-launch can use this. Copying this is easy, just that none will have the advantage of the beginners. Another potential problem in this is that it is not a technical challenge, and hence no motivation for a geek to pursue it !!
Well, i was just wondering about it, and thought of giving the idea, a body. I've put the title as my status message on all the Instant messengers i use (5 in total, man, i love gaim). I guess many of u guys would have come clicking the status message. Just wanted to see the interest it would generate. Well, will you click on this ??

Tou ji bu cheng she ba mi :: 不窃取鸡和丢失一把米入交易

2006-03-01T22:00:00.000+05:30

"Dude, 't was kewl man. Manchurian is my forte, i can eat a whole lotta it again chum"
Oh, great.
"Yeah, but try continental buddy, it matches our standard"

The conversation was getting irritating. Boasting about the food is was ok, but this self emphasis was standards was crawling up my nerves. Walking all the way from the office waiting for that important phone call, i had reserved my speech. He had seized the chance to talk abouth the team lunch, and the chinese cusine seems to have lent its flavour to the heated debate. I let him have his full, allowing me to think in brackets.

"You know buddy, i started with Kung Pao Tomato soup, it had that authentic chinese ingredients, was even served like that i say"
" Hmmm... (Man, please stop talking, i am waiting for a phone call) "
"The very aroma buddy, i recognised from it that it was the ethnic Kung Pao"
" Really ?? (Hey, even i knew that i smelt like a tomato soup da)"
"But i did not like the waiters serve. That removed the oriental ambience man, and we shouldn't have tipped them"
"Really Bad da (You were the one who earerly tried to snatch the hot soup from the waiter and so, spilled it on yourself) "
"The starters, the chinese ones are nothing compared to the typical continental counterparts i say"
"Accepted (yeah, they looked like the Tamil Nadu Bajjis, with paneer inside them, tasted similar also)"
"You know, these are the worst starters i've ever had in such cusines"
"Experience ?? (worst ??, was this not ur first non tamil nadu lunch ?? When have u eaten anything other that a dosa or a idly ?? )"
"Yeah dude, it was like a punishment for my tongue"
"Must be... (This is a punishment to my ears) "
"And what was that we ordered for the main course, I say ,hmmmm.. it was called......"
"No Idea (You ordered it, you must remember, why all this show off, when u dont even know what u ordered ??)"
"something like Tora or Taro Nest. It looked like that Italian Pista"
"Italian ?? (Italian Pista va ?? Hey, is it Pasta, and are u sure its Italian ?? )"
"Yes Italian man, i have really got those culliary skills"
"good.. (Not Culliary its Killery. he means culinary. And it was the Chinese Upma, nothing more) "
"And that Mandsuman Mixed Mashed Vegie was a good supplement for the food"
"Oh.. (Was there no Batman or Superman curry ?? And anyways, that curry was just the Indian curry)"
"And what would you want for a dessert to end the royal treat da ??, I was choosing, you know.. .it gets difficult i say..."
"sure it does (after all, you can't even pronounce half the items you wanna order) "
"So i wanted to choose Pudding Ghetto ..."
Ghetto ?? (you sure are Hitler)
"No No, gilleto or something, and a chocolate mouse...."
"You mean chocolate moose... (and thats gelato)."
"Same Same.. chocolat moose i say, and then firattete and Kanci"
"Kanci, is it Kanji (Stop it please, you can never be italian)"
"No No... dont talk like a country brute... its kanci, or censi... propernoun... you can pronounce it as you like"
"Oh, i dont know all that (here's the master of escapes)"
"Dude, you are in a big company, be a big man, have big standards, fine, Thats what i've been told in my alum matter. so what was i talking about i say...."
"about some deserts and camels (alum matter....looks like the alum has sedimented all the grey matter you ever had)"
"ya ya, camels, i was talking about desert food ... you know i've eated it twice when i was in Dubai"
"oh, (i know you dont even have a passport buddy)"
"ANd so ultimately, i finished eating all that Continental food"
"but were you not in a chinese resturant today ??"
"yes, continental also includes chinese man, dont u realise ??"
"i though continental was europe (please use some kerosine and ignite your geography to flames)"
"Its both, you dont know, so leave it. But the bill was a full 4,600 rupees, all company sponsor !! If i was there, I'd have preferred to pay in Yuans i say "
"hmmm.... (and here is our mr. omniscience)"
"Dae, talking of chinese and continental and chinese kusine, i am feeling hungary, wanna have dinner"
"No da, i've to get home fast, my head is aching (after all this non-sense)"
"Ok, let me go t oa good hotel, and eat my full da, bye, cya tomorrow"

And the gentleman slowed down, as i paced ahead to part with him. He seemed to be waiting for me to leave, but curiosity got even of me, and i took a sudden turn into one of those black alleys. Standing in the shadows, i could see him take out his purse. He nonchalantly over turned it, and let the change tickle down. The next moment, he was off to the dimly lit eatery, the one that does not even have tables to sit on, leave alone waiters. Its that typical roadside tea stall, that desperatly tries to push up its income graph by serving old dosas and idlys to the poorer population. He dissolved in the brightness of the old kerosine lamp. The clinking of the coins assured me that he was counting the financial assets he has recovered from his purse....... for that square meal......

PS : The title is a famous chinese proverb. It means

Failing to steal chickens and losing a fistful of rice into the bargain. ;-)

Taxing Benefits

2006-02-23T20:24:00.000+05:30

NOTE : Hey, this story is purly fiction, everything. Just was inspired by a rule, and thought of telling people that its better to pay taxes than evading it. Feels good that through my first sal, i've contirbuted to MY country.

With the financial year nearing is termination, the cash counters had started ringing their bells. My cellphones were bearing the brunt of the zillion "tax investment" policies, mushrooming in the market. The luncheon looked like an exhibition of investment firms. To tell you the truth, this was the real time i had felt that i was really earning. Apart from withdrawing a couple of hundreds from the ATM, my earnings had no other serious implications on my lifestyle. The current situation challenged my quiet financial life, and i was obliged to invest an amount to the tune of one laks in something.

Initially, i had delegated the responsibility to my financial advisor (an economics genious from the Delhi School of economics, and the son of a former Under-Secretory,Dept of Finance, Govt. of India) but he had politely turned down my lucrative offer. His reason was that he wanted me to learn, and as my Dad, his descision was right. So i had to go independent, collecting information about these financial things, something the "engineer" in me would never want to do. After a lot of research, that usually consisted on inversting with agents, my friends contacted, i got the tally up to the requisite mark.

However, there were columns that were an eye sore. They read "Medical Benefits" and "Leave Concession (LTC)". All through the year, God had kept me in good health, and i had not real medical claims. As a workaholic, i did not even spare the weekends to take a vacation. My LTC was also empty. But someone in the crowd opined that getting bills for these may save me 20% - 30% of tax.

Excited at the opportunity of saving money (that i would anyway lavish) i embarked on a mission, to get these bills ..... forged. As this was the first time i was saving tax, i decided to seek expert advise. But my alter ego told me that an excellent thrashing was in place if i even let my father smell about it. I concluded to let my self get it, guessing that getting something forged was a triviality.

Soon, i hung on to the bike a visited the Chemists. After a few negatives, i started to realise that it was getting difficult. A couple of them even started lecturing me about the virtues of tax. But my repeated efforts did bear fruits, and i managed to get the "credentials" from a black sheep. The story getting the LTC documents was no different, only that it got harder.

I was told that Air-tickets / Rail Tickets could not be forged, and the 'mole' could only produce a false taxi trip sheet. I was to pay him 5% of the bill amount, and we settled to an amount equal to 20,000/- bucks, with 800 for him. The fraud diligently calculated the tour destinations and route that incured the expense, and made it look real. Armed with these, i returned to my base.

Back at the office, i carefully filled up the return form. The pure arthematics in the shit (i mean sheet) seemed more complex that all the calculus and algerba i've ever encountered. Finally, when it came to the Medical and LTC columns, i approached the senior-most of the lot for help. A look at the bills widened the curve on his face. He announced that i could get benefits not on the taxi amount, but the second class train ticket from the farthest points in the route.

After learning the formula for calculation, i summoned my scientific calculator and jabbed the numbers. The results were disappointing. Another iteration, nothing changed. I rechecked the internet for that second class fare. It showed the same Rs.1500/-. 30 % of it was a mere 450 bucks. I repeated the entire ringamorale; the same result.

So finally i decided to put it down, and accept the truth. In a frantic and maiden attempt to save tax, i had paid some random moron 800 bucks, but i ended up saving not even half. I was at loss. Dude, what a waste of useful money. My first experience filing for income tax. Man, i could have atleast given this money to the government so that i can get better roads, better lights, better transport, better....... just like they promise in the tax ads..........

Dual / Duel

2006-02-23T11:15:00.001+05:30

By the time evening had finally arrived, i had run out of patience. The afternoon had so irritably slogged on that i even considered sleeping through it. Though it was one of those days when i have not much paper work to file, the chore seemed to grow big on me. At 5:55 p.m., the temporal dimension of the world seemed to have decelerated to a point indirectly proportional to my anxiety.But when the arms of the clock straightened, the curve on my face become pronounced. After all, it was an important day in my life, and this single evening could change my life forever. I snatched my overcoat from the hanger and shoved accross the tiny repeated cubicles towards the enterance. Once at the door, my fingers punched the access codes to the door, to break it open, but the door did not seem to understand my hurry. I shreiked for the security guard, and afer a good struggle, i was free from the hussle of my workplace, heading straight home. My mother had warned me to come early today, and i did not want to upset her. We were to leave by six thirty, to visit people i have never met before, but who will be a part of the rest of my life.

As an obedient Iyer boy, i had supprassed all urges to pick up one of those seducing nymphs, in favour of a "homely" girl, my mother would "allocate" to me. So here was the day when i was to see my life partner for the first time, and i was seeing this as an end to all harmonal disturbance those chicks were causing. My feet bounced of the dusty half-built road of this city towards the main junction, where i hoped to catch an autorickshaw. As i approached the junction circle, my eyes popped out of my head and followed every potential autorickshaw i could hire.I seemed that everyone on earth had decided to take an auto today, and none passed without a passenger in them. Then came my messiah, the yellow and black chariot on three wheels. The auto driver seemed pleasing and halted near my feet. As i majectically lifted my feet to enter it, the drived signalled me to pause and enquired about my destination. The eons of practise of Kannada helpd me blurt out "East End Maadi". The words seems to put a shock in him, and he nodded and sped aways without a word.

I stood looking at the auto merging into the dusty horizon, feeling desperate about missing the "bus to heaven". Another one seemed to approach me, but stopped just short of me. A middle aged man boarded it, and with an air of triumph, commanded his destination. But for the man, this ride could have been mine. I knew the man was grining at me from the corners of his face. A rush of anger sprang over my spine.

It looked like God did not want me to be a looser for long. Another auto came my way. The crisis this time was that along with me a great looking maiden had also signalled it to halt. The driver naturaly stopped before her, and she told him her destination. Even before the driver could react, i jumped into the picture and spoke. I knew that i had to choose my words carefully, this seemed to be a once in a lifetime chance. I blurted. "East End......... one and a half times ok".
The thought of getting paid one and a half tmes more elated the driver and he seemed to be interested in the deal. Timing was impecable, as even my cell phone sang its message tone, as if lauding my triupmp over that poor girl. Ha, i thought, this time, I had defeated the girl. I boarded the rickshaw, getting the cellphone out of my pocket, and telling him to move on. I wanted to see the message that i had recieved at this moment, and navigated to the MMS. The text said "Hi bro, i got a pic of your would-be, she looks great. " Excited, i opened the picture message. As the scrollbar was compled its tenure, and "her" picture was revealed.

I hurriedly glanced back at the adversary i had just vanquised, and realised that the picture meant i had just left "her" back, this petty duel (pretty dual ???) of mine..........

GOLD CLASS

2006-02-23T11:15:00.000+05:30

: "Rajadhi raja, Maha Rajaraja, His Highneous Mr.XYZ arriveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

As much as i noticed, that was the only thing that was missing in the entire ritual. The other ceremonial honours seemed perfectly placed. For a cinema ticket that cost me a little more than five hundred bucks straight, i'd settle for nothing less.Before i get you guys start feeling jealous, let me undust the scenerio. After a some real hardwork, we guys decided to treat ourselves with a great evening. A continental cusine with a musical backdropp would have just served fine, but we wanted something that rocked as much as our work does. PVR Gold Class came as the answer, friday was the day fixed for fun. After a day, that swished through to the evening, we all dispersed to assemble at "THE FORUM", a common hangout for the hepp of Bangalore.
As i ascended up the escalater, i found my team already keen to make the best of the date. All were there with their spouses (man, i have none, shit) exchanging plesantry. I've never been to cinema before in this city, and i guess there could be no better way to give up my "virginity". I grabbed my ticket to the "place". Expecting to find someting resembling a scroll, i saw the ATM like tickets with disappointment. Well, may be it was crazy of me to expect something of the ticket, but i still decided to treasure it.
The doorways finally opened, and i marched in, welcomed by the fairest nymphs, with roses in their hands. As i moved to pocket the rose, the lady sincerely apologised, and commented that they were for the "ladies". Hmm, gender inequality maybe. The red velvet ambience enveloped the royalty of the arena. The dimmed lights gave it a feel of some private palace of a ruler. Overwhelmed with these settings, i held my heart strong in my hand and moved in to the actual theatre. The recliners were inviting, and i threw myself to the softness of the sofas. It typically sounded like the executive classes of the aircraft; some voice even repeated instructions.
As the screen before me flashed, i awaited more royality to flow my way. After ages of seeing movies on pirated CDs and cinemas that charge not more than 15 bucks, this was a leap in faith. The movie began, and it swallowed the essence of my surroundings. The finest acoustics with perfect lighting make the movie seem bright enough to watch, and i immersed myself into the controversial storyline of "Rang De Basanti".
Midway into the movie, i was woken up by the call by the waiter for the order. I settled for a black forest cake and some hot chocolate. The hall echoed the sounds of the movie, drenched in patriotism. By the time the movie got to its feet, intermission had arrived. Not much of a sound during this time either, and i complained about the hall being "errie" with the sounds of the movie alone in it.
As a precausion, Vaibhav even tried to comment during the second half, but i am sure it was viewed as indecent by the "gold class" audience of the hall. The movie got over, and i lifted shoved back home. Well, the movie got over, that it. Nothing more. Hmmm.... something was missing in the entire picture. It is now i know what i was longing for, during the entire session.
Though the hall was of a "gold class", i realised that i may never enjoy a movie without the witty comments of my friends, or a noisy fight in the backgound. There was no sound of the prjector running, or 5-rupee ice creams selling in the intervals. There was no cheering the hero, of whistling at the heroine. Well, we were all decent, "gold class". But in my humble opinion, i could be this "decent" thing even at home, watching the movie on my home theatre, whats the point in coming to the cinema... a cinema that lacked its essential ingredients.
Ok, i was at the "gold class", but now i know for sure that this can never challenge the "real class", the lower cinema houses of India have created. Hey, do we ever go to a cinema, to actually watch the movie ????? ;-)

The Girl Thing.....

2006-02-23T11:14:00.002+05:30

: Carrying the heavy burden of evening tiredness on my gentle shoulders, i finally shoved across the ocean of the male population towards the ladies seat. In the over crowded bus of the evening, this was no less than finding a place in away from hell. Settling there, after a short fight with my dupatta, that got stuck in the melee, i looked out of the window to gobble some fresh air, a gift of the Bangalore traffic.
Over the multitude of the chaotic traffic, I could spot the evening sun die down in the calmness of the horizon. As i shifted myself to a more comfortable position, my ears tuned into a distinctive communication. "..........please....... it's a girl thing, u wont understand.", and the lady opposite to me buried her flowing tears in the intricate folds of her dupatta. She stayed like that, and my curiosity prompted me to look inside her being. A couple of years of work in the IT industry had taught me to anticipate the requirements, even before they came, and i decided to put this skill of mine to use.
Well, i drooled over her crumpled form. She seemed quite young, teasing the lower twenties. Her face glowed with exhaustion of the day. Ripe for a happy marriage, was this girl feeling the twitches of cupid, just as appropriate for the age ? Her silence only made my induction seem more valid, and i tried to conclude that she loved a guy... an untold love of a girl. She was a woman, and i know that her emotions don't require her to announce her love. As the sacred feminine, she may well take this love of hers, to the grave with her. Yet she may love the man, from the depths of her heart, never looking back for him to love her just the same.
The apparent simplicity of situations drives the IT professionals suspicious and here, the plainess cried to me to spice the matter up. I am aware that a broken trust could evoke no less a reaction. Theorizing on it, i reckon that she must have been confronted by evidence that spelt the unfaithfulness of a close mate. As a girl, she shall keep her sorrows to herself; any rock solid evidence shall dissolve in the pure love she hosts for him. Is the girl thing not about this ??
Just then she budged, and i got to see another clue, that may help me make my inductions accurate. The identity card, that noozing around her neck indicated her origins from a prestigious software firm. Was all this an outcome of the daily stress ? Well, to my undestanding, the mention of "the girl thing" seemed to alien itself from the hypothesis. THe cause must be different. Then stuck the idea of racial discrimination at her workplace. Could be that she was denied an overseas opportunity just because of her feminine side. Or was some dumb co worker stalking her peace all the time.
She then adjusted her posture, and I got to see the real identity card - her holy 'mangalsutra'. Her fists clenching a book, nearly crumpling the picture of a cute baby on it was also visible. Was this book on a parenting; i get to see plenty of such things these days. My mind raced, and i scanned at her bulging abdomen. The buldge could be an indicative of pregnancy. And she was talking about a "girl thing". I knew for sure then, that it was her cruel hubby at the other end (of the world ??) , apologising for not being able to make it - to her delivery. It was to be a special occassion for her, and she obviously wanted him by her side. His absence could only give her sorrows. Well, thats how a girl feels.
But the idea seemed too far fetched. Could it be something more dangerous like she had been a witness to a gruesome aristrocacy committed on someone and was unable to digest the accident or something of that sort. She seemed so shaken up that i was forced to conclude her being a witness to an accident or something.
The ultrasonic horn of the bus awakend me from the thought process, and I lept back to take a final glance at the girl, before she stumbled out of the bus. As the bus picked up speed, i could see her silhoutte walk to a man. Before the screech of the tires could swallow the sounds, i heard these words ".....but how can the vadam go bad, I had dried it so well on the terrace. Honey, .... this hurts me, you wont understand.... its a girl thing........"

PS : a "vadam" is a south india something (eatable) that is dried and served crispy with rice. An sorry girls there , i could not explain a VADAM better ;-)

Coll-edge

2006-02-23T11:14:00.001+05:30

: "IITK,....... IITB,........NITK,........IIITHyd,.........IITD,..........NSIT Delhi". Then the eyes swooped on me. As my voice box tried to vent out the identity, a lump formed in my throat. The errie silence echoed in the surroundings. People waited, and i let out a bare whisper... "a college in Tamil Nadu". The dust settled and the crowd huddled towards their assignments.
Though the congregation dispersed, the events had uncovered the wounds of humiliation. It was just another team meetings and we had introduced ourselves, followed by our colleges. I've always been haunted by introductions like this, specially when the time comes to naming my college. It was one incident that still unsettles my bearings.
Arun Ponniah seemed quite articulate in these sessions. The other day, he advised me to retaliate "TCE M" when asked my college. He adds that no one have ever asked him to expand it, and so believes that the guys imagine it to be at par with those big head institutions. Unfortunately for me, i did take this advise.
During a team formalisation, the ringamorale of introductions was repeated, and it soon was my time to fire. With an air of confidence, deriving strength from Arun's counsel, i proudly and loudly "..... and i graduated from TCE M". Silence. Some one creeked, "where is that ?? ". I was not gonna let it down now. I fired back "come on, dont you know ?? Dude, its in Madurai, the capital of the mighty Meenakshi"
I think he did not get that well, and he repeated "sorry, what was that". Eager to boast of the city that has cudled me for nine years, i shot back, "chum, thats the city where you have the magnanimous Menakshi Temple, jewel of the south". This was well recieved, and the discussion centered upon the aura of the temple and the city. Everyone in the team seemed to have been to this city atleast once, and started their enthusiastic journals.
I felt good, this was the time, all facts were addressed to me for authenticity. With the limited knowledge of the subject, i edited the entire discussion. Then the question came, like a bolt from the blue "Parashu, u said you did something at TCE, what the f**k is TCE's acronym ", maybe under the influence of liquor. Sorry for the language there, but thats f**king how this dude places all his words.
To that question, i announced "I did something, called graduation, and TCE is an acronym for Thiagarajar College of Engineering ". The words struck a chord in him and he said "Oh Thiagarajar, the place where they teach songs and bhajas and kirtanais and aradhanais". Bowled out by that request, i had no option but cover it all up.
I made up for that "Dude, they dont teach songs here but yes, in the engineering sciences they teach, there is a harmony that rivals the perfection of the Thiagarajar aradhanais." The team seem to applaud for this wit, but deep in me i felt the pinch of anonymity. We are not bad a college (I still believe we are the best, maybe), specially with a heritage even older that some of the big-heads. But the reality is that common people dont know this legendary greatness. Nor do the companies(like Microsoft, Yahoo, Google, Amazon) that recruit at the big heads, but miss out on geniouses budding in here.
Well may be someday,.... someday,i can stand up and speak in the audience of those big-heads .... and i am from the legendary Thiagarajar College of Engineering.....

Flower Power :: From a village to a city - a girl's story

2006-02-23T11:14:00.000+05:30

: Once upon a time in a far away village, there lived a small girl. Hey wait, i anit starting a fable. And believe me, i'll try to keep this blog as interesting as possible. Afterall, this is another of my attempts to tease a girl, and i know u'd enjoy it.
So, here it is again. Once upon a time in a far away vilage, there lived a small girl. She attended her regular school in the very same village. As much as i know, the village has just a pucca road, crossed by a small lane; the entire village populated on the sides of the road. In the village, hers was a familiy respected for tradition and heritage. Though i've not know her during those times, let me put in a typical movie style childhood of the girl. She had a cuter sister, and the grew up in the green farms that blessed the small dwelling (please add a typical folk song here).
During the course of the song she grew up ( something like, she covers her face with bed covers the previous night, and wakes up as a grown up girl). Her high school results were just out, and she goes to see them, at her small school. Scene shifts, and you see the green fields ready for harvest, and a couple of workers working there. Then you spot someone running. You recognise it to be the heroine of the story.
"Aaathaaaaaaaaa naaaan pass aiteeeeeeeein", she shouts, running with her marksheet. Not sure if she had the typical arguement with her parents about continuing studies in a far far away city, but she lands up at a city college. Four years swish past, and she's employed in an MNC, a dream company of many.
It is here that the real story starts (even me teasings). One day, she reurns back to her room at one thirty at night. Reason, .... she was to the poshestest bar in Bangalore. During her short span of one month, she solicited her presence to every well know bar in the city. This is a feat, for even the guys she knows have never been to bar (those who have been, have blundered the first times !!!)
Well, accepted that she was a wastage of the entry fee at the bar, she WAS TO THE BAR. That is important. Its a different story that she never touched liquor, and was the first person to leave given a chance and hated parties like this and..., fine drop it. Lets continue to tease her, ok.
I was wondering what a typical country girl like her would do if someone proposed to her(many dumbos did). Got a chance for that and all she did was nonchalantly reply "seri da, apparum sollu". Well, that was shocking, considering the fact that the world's most charming and intelligent guy had done it (hey, hey, wait, dont look at me like that) and that it was for fun, i expected her to cry running to her mother.
Hmmmm.... looks like she's learned culture. Culture of going to the bar is it.. i donno. But i stil realise that she can relate to the contrast of the tow worlds. Who said that women are being opressed, for that matter, this women opresses me!! But the entire essence is that the sea of change to which she has adjusted is just dramatic. Women Empowerment is it ?? Sigh, its getting to heavy on us guys.
I'd love to still see that form of the girl, when she was at her village, running through the fields, heaving as a flower. I know for sure that this woman is still as delicate as a flower from her inside, is it why, the drastic change in a woman (also called pattikadu) called, flower power......

The idea hyp-o-thesis

2006-02-23T11:13:00.003+05:30

: .......A Million Dollar.... Shit man, one million dollar......all for nothing......hey how can someone make money so easy.....even the idea is crazy.....yet its one million dollar.......man man man.....the people must be crazy......the idea makes me dizzy..........
Well, this was my reaction when i saw that site first. Called the "Million Dollar HomePage" it was just as inspiring as dejecting. It is the legend of how a young man
(21 now) amassed wealth with one single crazy idea, that the world accepted. He's done nothing, just sold a dollar per pixel in his page, and incidentally, has a million pixels on the page. People were crazy enough to buy them, and he's got all the money he wanted for his university. He's even got a new socks (his blog keeps saying that !!) The impact of the idea did not stop with that.
I was showing Anshuman this effort of his, and i noticed the very same symptoms i had a couple of minutes earlier. Well, the idea was.... when HE can, why the hell can't WE !!! That sent us looking for our thinking caps, and let our minds race through the field of creativity. Ideas sprouted out like lava from the volcanoes, and the soot began to build. We could feel the heat of the exercise, and to insulate others from it, even moved to a quieter conference room.
Typically like one of those high profile meetings where we (and our bosses) discuss business value in millions, we solemnly put forth our dreams. Anshuman wanted a website that sold not pixels, but probability. It was like when a user comes to our page and clicks, he'll be redirected to one of those who paid us, with a probability equal to the amount he pays us. The direct question that sprang up was this "why will anyone come to our page, just to be redirected". I retaliated by ideating that we can also sell web space (like real estates) and people can partner with us as the value of the site goes up. Something like a revenue sharing, that'll help us get something like network marketing.
Eager to give these ideas a test of fire, we went to Debo, our team leader and mentor of a kind, and asked him if he'll buy some estate on our site. The immediate reaction was "why the hell must i". I spiced the idea a little and annouced that the money he gives us will be redirected to charity. That stuck the chord and he agreed. Late as it was, we left this idea half baked, erady to feast on it the next time we talk of it.
I carried it at the back of my head and pured it out to guys (ok, Vidya was also there) from my college as we assembled fro dinner. The reaction was expected. Sriki was shocked, Vidya seemed surprised and Bharath seemed crazy (as he always is). They started puring out ideas, and now i had a whole lot to carry back home. Once in safe haven, i targetted my room-mate, Suresh Babu. An inventor he is, it immediatly caught his attention. He enlightened me with his experience on earning for publishing articles in magazines, and of completeing small projects for meagre values.
The week passed with me getting heavy and floating with idea. I knew i was getting more excited to do something that the world notices. It was then that i met Pradeep, my Project Manager. Retreating to the familiar conference room, i hurridly laid down my idea, with him listening with rapt attention. Then he told me something.... something that i already knew, but just ignored.
He told me to stop dreaming. Yes, stop dreaming and start chasing an idea whole heartedly. Well, maybe i was just giving ideas, not ursuing them. Lets chase them for a change. If nothing else, it'll keep my mind going. So dudes, i have an idea i am chasing now. Well, it may fail, and i'll chase another. THe second may also fail, nut i chase a third then. Afterall, the world lauds only the successful, the losers are shoved into anonymity. Did someone say that of every single good idea i generate, i generate a hundred failure ideas ..........

Tennis ........ the menace

2006-02-23T11:13:00.002+05:30

: ...... and with that smacking smash, the worthy duo have scored a point against the opposition. Entering into the last set of the game, the heat sure is on, as the players line up with their partners to discuss move to shatter the rivals. A coulpe of more points and they know that they'll be climbing the stairs of glory, over the vanquished remains of their equally cabable adversaries.
Hey hold on, the pic of the blog ain't from the Wimbledon, or for that matter, any of the famed grandslams. Yet, the court is no lesser than the center court that hosts the prestigious tennis frays. And we guys were lucky not just to witness a happening match in this arena, but to be a part fo history, by shaping the results of the match. Well, this is how we, a crazed goup of youngsters give our shot at tennis, on the computer of course. Called Virtua tennis, this game was introduced by one of my pals from IIT Kharagpur, he's called Vaibhav. Apart from the usual charms that gals see in him, he's quite good at the game, i may admit he's the best of the lot. Well, we slowly picked up and are now good enough to give him a good fight.
After a heavy lunch, we guys settle at our computers every afternoon, to sort out the winner of the day, and thus the match begins. The team so far has been fixed. Anshuman, of the IT-BHU fame pairs up with me, and Vaibhav has the versitile Prithvi (Dharti, meaning earth) with me. As the mighty titans get ready for the clash, we choose our respective players. The combination is inviaribly this Vaibhav plays as Haas, Anshu is Jim courier, I get to be the mighty Carlos Moya and Prithvi plays as Tim Henmann.
After a little deliberation we choose to honour the audience of some lucky city to witness the duel. Admitedly, the choice is difficult, but we choose one of Old England (center court), Roland Garros, Japan, Spain, Russia, or the Virtua Grand Sega Court. As the first service starts, the tennis ball shuttles between brisk rackets. Even faster shuttles the bytes of data over the wired LAN to provide us, seemless and smooth proceeding of the multiplayer game. Points pile up as games, and games converge into a set; we find ourselves staring at the score boards, desperate to gobble up the match.
Amongst the quick reactions of Vaibhav's racket, i stand near the net to volley any less-thought-of shot into a point. For all the balls lobbed across me, Anshuman does a diligent job of picking them up at the far end of the court, placing it at far-fetched places. As for Prithvi, his cross-court ace serves send us diving into the mud to pick those carefully placed strokes.
This tennis phenomenon has been around for quite some time, and we've noticed that our games have improved. The mania has gone to such a situation that we are now discussing the stategy to use when we've the route the rivals. As of audience, we find that the stadium is filled when we play, but for real people watching us, we've noticed that many eyes are not able to separate themselves from our screens when we play.
When all this is going on so fine, you may want to ask me the reason of the title. For that buddy, i'd say that we sometimes are too much into our. At times, even during the release when the internet was down, we played the game, instead of scheduling something else. Debo's (our great grand master sort of) has even remarked that "when ever i see u both together on one comp, u guys seem to work, but when u sit on individual comps, tennis seems to rule you".
Its now a well established fact that tennis is the game that rules the team for now, but i only hope that more guys pick this up (specially Subra, please leave that maniacal killing of the quake and join our horde) so that we can conjure up a game when our mind asks for one. Well, maybe one day then, we'll also have Debo playing it with us. With you and me. And that day baby, if u are not careful enough, i may as well give u a good serve....... ;-)

Spectakular -- Those "FIFTEEN" minutes

2006-02-23T11:13:00.001+05:30

: Someone asked me, what could i do in fifteen minutes. Considering that the question was a regular taunt, i gestured bravely that in fifteen minutes i could turn my world around. Since the statement had been fired, i never returned back to it, till "those" fiftenn minutes. Those fifteen minutes, that sent a shockwave chain reaction in my daily activities. My life after that has never been same, and i dont think i want it to be same.
The story is set in the background when i had just given my final exams for graduation in the college and was waiting for the results before i could pack off from the hostel happily back to home in Pune. My dad had come down to Madurai to help me pack my paraphernalia. Back those days, i was a cute and chubby (ok fine, exaggerated, but please, was i not cute, now come on) adult with a pair of spectacles adorning my visage, lending me that "queer genious" look. Hey wait, i did not put in those words, they are the result of the frequent glances bestowed by the nymphs of the college upon my being ! Fine, getting back to story, i'd heard about this LASIK surgery.
I'd heard that it eliminated the need of spectacles, and I was looking forward to it, when my Dad promised to give it a try. I really like this trait of my Dad, he somehow always knows the desires squiggling in my brain. Taking the mandatory prelimenary tests i commuted one day prior to the operation to the hospital, fully aware of the excitement rushing into my blood. The tests enabled the docs to gimme a clear go ahead, except that they added something to make the scenerio, a littel dramatic. As a bottomline, they said that due to the high power of my eyes (obviously, how many gals have i attracted with these, hmmmm, hey honey, look into my eyes and speak ! ) the prospect of completly removing the spectacles may be dimmed down.
On my side, i was desperate to get rid of this faithful friend of mine. It had been with me for the past ten years, in one form or the other. As i was growing up at school, i was the prime reason for the frequent change of form of the spectacles, and the constant source of concern for my mother; i never spared a chance to crumple it. Growing older, i had to forgive this pleaseure of seeing it crumple for the good looks those costly spectacles gave me. Anyways, that atleast gave solace to my mom, nonetheless, i always carried a spare with me, just in case.
The D-day finally arrived after what seemed to be like eons of waiting. I used the "reliabl" Madurai Pandian Roadways Bus service to get to the Arvind Hospital. I was paraded into the sterilized waiting room, with the usual stench of the hospital gripping me. After my anxious dad finished the paper work, the nurse poured some drops of a liquid and told me to close my eyes.
The regular restless self in me urged me to open up and see the patients waiting with me to see the world in a completly different perspective.
As expected, i did open my eyes to perform a precautionary sweep of the surrounding, in the processing getting badly scolded by my Dad. Well, to gain something, u must bear a little suffering. After another interval, i was led into the operation and told to wait outside it again. The liquid in my eyes made me feel strange. I slowly bent down my head, facing the ground. Moved my hands near my face, and slowly opened my eyes, to 'feel' the feeling i was having. Within a few seconds, i was forced to shut my eyelids, i could feel my eye balls hanging out reacing to touch my hands a centimeter below. Gravity does perform its job perfectly !!
Once into the operation, my limbs were secured, and my face closed with a cloth except for the part to be operated on as the ritual goes. The doc seemed to be a pleasant person, and looking into my age and profession columns in the chart, gave me an offer. He wanted me to obey him, in return to him explaining all that he does. That was sufficint to quell my curiosity, and i succumbed. He clipped my eyes to keep it wide open and then moved the massive LASER machine straight before my face. I could feel my eyes overflowing with tears, the doc called it some anesthesia. He articualtly culled our the outer layes of my eyes and then took hold of the machine.
I could see three green and a red light aimed at my face. The doc told me that the erd light was the LASER, to which i bounced back. I resoned out that the LASER had to be of low energy to be safe (i learnt that it was called cool eximer LASER later) and thanked him for providing me vision of the non0visible spectrum of light. The doc gave a chuckle and relented that i was indeed correct; the red light was the guide for the LASER, and green were the topological positioners.
A second later, i could smell it. I could even start seeing it. I mean, the LASER was not visible, but i could smell my layers of eyes being burnt by the "cool" LASER. During the entire course of the operation, my Dad held my 'posthumous' specs, and for the first time in my life after years, i could see thing gaining clarity. As the LASER went round my entire eye ball, it burnt down all that "blur" i had been living with. The same procedure was repeated for the second time, but for a change, i was silent during this process.
My mind was already pre occupied with thoughts of wonder and gratitude. By the time the process was finished, my eyes were literally filled with tears. Before the doc told me close my eyes for some time, i managed to sneak a peak at my wrist watch. I was exactly fourteen minutes and thirty two seconds before that i was blurred without my specs. Now i was ready to face the world with a clear vision of my own. Another half hour later, i dragged myself alongside my dad, fully obeying the doc's request to keep me eyes shut atleast for an hour. I was too overwhelmed to ask "why not" to this.
Another hour later, i was at the hostel, my dad busy packing my things back, taking atmost care to protect me, as he's always done, this time from the dust of the labour. Another hour passed and the urge to open my eyes was getting better of me. I did open my eyes, to see before me the beautiful world thrown open. The sudden light forced me to shut them, but i recovered soon enough to grab my coolers and watch the world again.
I felt the conduction of neurons from my optical nerve to my brain, carrying with them, the first message that my eyes send it, filled with tearful joy. I knew i could have cried that day, but the doc had stricly advised me against it, i could not even fully enjoy the moment by giving vent to my joys. Fifteen minutes, and now i am independent of something without which i was meaningless.
Well, that was one of the other days i had pledged myself to the course of science, and had profoundly thanked God for this wonder. That was one of the other days i knew man had triumphed to control his weaknesses. That was one of the other days i knew that i could flaunt my expressive out to the world. Hmmm, so girls out there, watch out. I may well trap you in these eyes of mine. Hey honey, look into my eyes and speak ................

Lost.... but not the least....

2006-02-23T11:13:00.000+05:30

: The darkness hung over the bright street lamps, as I reluctantly proceeded back home, late at night. My wrist watch read 10:30, and i knew that it would be another hour or two before i could lull myself intto the caring arms of sleep. I lifted my feet and sailed through the near deserted roads, pacing as slowly as i could. My mind cautioned me about the unearthly hour, but my heart knew that i'd have to deal with the same boredom i defeated at my workplace.
But for the persistant barks of some stray dog, and the occassional screech of a fast car negotiating a dangerous curve, my ears enjoyed the errie silence of the night. Moving furthur, my mind nonchalantly replayed the happenings of the day filled with activity. It was then that i moved into the spotlight of a street lamp, lit dimly than the others. I could make out the silhoutte of two humans, sitting cross legged at the base. Fully aware of the perils of the time, my steps grew shorter and faster. I could fell me lungs panting for air, as i broke into a graceful jog. I thought my ears heard someone calling out, but my mind denied it. The corner of my eyes drew the image of a woman, holding a child in her hand. My wrist watch snatched my attention, and i could not make out the her purpose, at this hour of the day. Running into its fullest analysing capabilities i tried to reson out her presence, but my mind failed to comprehend.
A man suddenly appeared in front of me.. I stopped. Looked up at him. Looked at the watch. I started to walk again. He stopped me. But for his "Suno saab", my feet would have gathered momentum to speed away. Something made me stop, i think it was part curiosity. Aware that i had no business to attend to once i was back home, i gave them man the luxuary of having my attention. The worthles babble out of his mouth initially made no sense, but i predicted that he asked for money. Hurridly, i reached for my purse, and checked for change. The woman with the child also gathered courage to come forth, and echoed her plight. Of what i could understand, i heard that they were from Gujrat, had come to see Rameshwaram, had been robbed, now lost, dropped by some philanthropist at this junction.
Insenitivity cannot be the best words to describe my reaction, but the stories of gruesome bangalore robberies have hardened my reaction. I quickly reached out for a cash note and waved it to them. The man grabbed it, and i paced on to leave them behind, as fast as i could. After a few hundred meters, curiosity got better of me. My heart wanted to help them, but my mind warned me against it. Just then, my watch chimed, and the time told me that back home, i had nothing to do. I finally gave heed to my urge, and turned back to take a better look. Instantly, some crazy cab swished past me, barely missing my arm by a whisker.
After delivering the customary abuses at him, i hurled myself back to the mission. As i was in the proximity of the spot, i noticed a crowd gathered, something strange for this time of the night. Over the rattle of hysterical voices, i could make out that someone had been run down by a maniac car. I could also percieve the yelps of a woman. Though i could not make sense out of it in the ensuing confusion, the language sounded familiar. Glancing back at my wrist, i decided to revert back to my original destination - my home, just to avoid any bad dreams that the accident may send at night.
It was only when i reached home that the words of the lady deciphered. The language was gujarati. I was not sure about the words, but i knew that something that i did not like had happened. Apparently, the woman and her baby were now 'lost' in the city. But that was not the least that has happened to them.
I tried to reassure myself that i had done my job. Afterall, who gives fifty bucks to roadside beggers, that too so late at night. But a question still nags me. Did the human in me do his job ......

Mailer Demon :: My access to a secret mail ....

2006-02-23T11:12:00.002+05:30

: A volley of secrets. A legend of friendship. A tale of oneness. A consensus of character. All crompomised. In one stroke. One Lethal stroke. Like the stroke of a demon; the mailer demon.
A long and subjectively secret conversation was in progress till one of the parties unnoticingly typed in the CC column of the email, a very valuble address. The CC column read : , and with that single action, the secrecy of the proceedings dissolved into thin air.
By the time the gravity dawned to both the girls, it was too late to retreat.'I' had recieved the mail, and all their revoking power diminished to negligence. Glancing through the words of these sacred feminine, I relished the holy sermons that the ladies, or maybe generalising, all ladies have between them. Generalising may be a wrong term, I believe girls can indeed communicate more intelligently (or atleast send mails carefully), but the sheer expanse of the detailed conversation was quite enlightning to the male who read it.
"The Girl Thing" as the taller of the girls calls it was now open, beyond the controls of the girlish community. With a wepon os such powerful, I knew that I could make the girls literally beg to my will and luxuary. As this, they did, the shorter one even exaggerated to an extent telling me that she had never begged to anyone to this extent. A couple of phone calls for truce, and the mischievous demon in me was not quelled. I was taken aback, with the three word title for the entire scheming mail, the subject line read : "RE: hi di"
Hmmm, i know that the blue hyperlink of the title would have highlighted the fear of the victims, who i am sure are reading this thing, anyways, thats the reason i put that valid hyper link !!! I started to parse the matter bottom up, to get a context of the discussion. The substance of the mail was simple ; i'tell you all my secrets, you tell me yours, and we shall thrive an companions... The demon in me did feel the fire rattling in my stomach, a dedication to such thick friendship of theirs.
Even as I decided to disclose to the ignorant world, the purpose and objectives of the mail, the shorter one tried the last resort. She says she has a conversation of mine, about someone important in my life, that she shall throw open. The negotiations started, and I conqured the demon in me to settle with a 'solution' for honour. Yet, i bear no liability for the 'preciptate' written here, as it is the ruthless demon who writes. So my honourable ladies, please hold on your hearts and continue furthur. Ironically, when i, as the demon disclosed the plan to Divya, she also fought back, claiming flower power !!! Thouhg in no way related or affected by the mail, she told me to erase it, contrary to my belief that she would love the gossip (as said of women !!)
With the background sufficient to paralyse the victims, let me dive deeper into sensationally exposing the details of the respected e-mail. With the regular company notices tailing the mail, i was surprised to find that my "PRIVATE" conversation with the shorter one was dutifully copied there. Not that i am "posessive" about the shortie (as the tall asked) but i am interested in my privacy. Heartless to the core, i painfully re-read about all my exploits. One line that was not be be exposed, hurts me. It reads "Read the part of the chat.. We were talking abt marriages.. now proceed……….".
That was followed by the customary greeting you send when you have nothing interesting to talk. Then comes up an intersting gossip about a boy, who deems himself to be the owner of his company, and his affair. Written lucidly, it makes me wonder the reason the company pay these minions. There were lamentations about his bombastic expressions, and his new exaggerated ventures. The topic ended with a note about the guy being really a nice person at heart. The words "rukalam.... aana avan romba friendly di.... nalla paiyan........... " ,did not betray the solidarity of the claim.
This was too much for the shorter one to bear, and she shot back "Tho da certificate". There was also some talk about a mutual friend that is best in its hidden form, lest may it trigger old emotions. The unseen certification grew a little mischief in the taller one, and she started to rattle about the shorter one's persona. "eppo avanukum parallela mail pannitu iruken theriyuma." That statement was enough to calm down the heat from the shorter one. The shorter one ultimately accepted that 'her' guy was also intelligent, though after a lot of arguement. It was followed by her, blurting out "Avan nallavana irrunthu enna prayochanam.. hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm". The sheer number of m's in the last word was an evident testimonial of the sensational revelation !! I know that if i go beyond this, i might get killed, so lets proceed to the next part of the converstaion, that strayed into the territories of whom she likes and whom she does not (pretty crappy i say). There was a "tight corner" situation pushed to the shorter one, that was handled with care. That followed the reguler girl chatting, most of which went above my head. After all this, the blog ended, leaving me much more knowledgeble. I now had a depper understanding about how close can people be, and a deeper realisation that the next time I address one, i must think of the other also ....

Ring it on....

2006-02-23T11:12:00.001+05:30

: The AC is at its coldest, yet prespirations tickle down the forehead. The mindless chatter of the office is nothing more than significant whisper to the ear. The mind is engulfed by the gravity of the problem to solve, and the computer seems to throw tantrums. As i try to make a comprehensive analysis of the situation the sudden blaring puts me off. The Phone shouts and shivers, pinching for my attention.
For the sake of silencing it, i switch it on and the customary hello slips out of my mouth. "Hello, Lata, I have got the thing you wanted", the phone relentlessly chants.
Still immersed in the intricacies of the problem, i replel the words with a "Wrong Number", and try to slam the phone back. The phone, now in a more girlish, polite tone, asks me to hold on. Desperate for a break, i decide to give lend the phone my ears. "Oh, so am i not speaking to Lata, well sorry. May i please know who is it. Lata called me from this number yesterday". The sudden politness reminds me of the recent wave of mobile phone frauds, and i retreat my base, jerking back a "WRONG NUMBER". The phone tells me to hold on, insisting for an identification. Weary of the ringamorale, I nonchalantly relpy back "Mukesh Gupta". "Oh, so sir, are you by any chance, in the software field", to which i give a silent affirmance. Then the phone, in her sweet soothing voice tells me "Oh thats great. We are a consultancy firm specialising in the placement of software profesionals in multi-nationals". Adding to that was another tagline. "By the way sir, where are you working ?". I search my desk for a frantic reply, and seeing bharath's card on, i proudly say "WIPRO INDIA".
Not happy with my bullet answers, the phone pokes me for more information. I dutifully reply back, lest must i break this "break". The information flows : "i have 3 years experience, was working at IBM and am now a project manager here, and am from an engg college called the IIT (oh for the truth of this statement !!!)" The three letters have a catalysing effect on the phone, and it springs to the activest form of life.
More persuation, and i am convinced to divulge my salary details. I tell it that I am compensated an amount roughly equal to 20,000 a month (bad for an IIT grad, i must have guessed). Till now, the converstaion was going fine, but it had started getting weary. I guessed that the phone now had almost all information a head hunter would want from a potential victim. This was when the "dream" run started. The phone then sang along merrily
"SIr, we have a brilliant offer for you from the leading MNCs. As you are from IIT, i personally feel that you must get a lot more than you are getting. We will help you get into great companies sir, and you can climb the corporate ladder easily. ..blah .....blah .....blah .....blah .....blah ..."
The flawless english language and hig end accent left me dubmstuck. However, the last line dispeled the aura. It said that i'd have to pay them Rs. 20,000 as an advance, and then when my offer is confirmed, i can pay another 40,000. If I wanted an MNC, i had to part with Rs. 1,50,000, but the phone comforted me not to fear the amount, as i will earn more in the U.S. Excited by the offer, i decided to go ahead. The phone's tone seemed so reassuring that i mentally decided to give it a go. After formally asking all my details, the phone wanted me to sms it, my mail id, so that the account number to which that had to be paid, could be sent.
Well, paying Rs. 20,000 must not be a problem i decided, and i followed the instructions. Before dispatching the SMS, i read the mail id, just to be sure it was correct. The display of my phone said proudly " ". Hence i dispatched the SMS, and made sure it reached, so that now those frauds could mess up with the real "thing".
I hope Bharath has cursed those volley of spam recruitment offers that junk his "OFFICIAL" mail id day in and day out. Long live my phone......

Topory

2006-02-23T11:12:00.000+05:30

: Hellu all,

Myself a construction worker working construction for a large comphutor company. Parashuram taking phutu-giraphs of I, i see in the morning. So think i write here is good think. My life history like any other life history of any other indian worker. Phull life, hard work hard work, and very less paisas getting.
I born and bring up in bangaluru, i growing as the city also growing. I going to local school, learning all thig in kannada. My ayya vey good man. he telling me go to good school, but we having no paisa that time. My ayya telling god also good man like my ayya. So he giving us more and more paise when i become large like ayya. That time i tell ayya, when i become large, i become the top man in this city. He very happy. But ayya die due to he sick, and we not having single paisa. Amma working day and night, and i studying hard. Like this, i getting work in construction comapny, and i now a skilled labour constructing company.
I remember appa promise, i top man in this city. Yes, i sitting at top and commanding many building materials. I had money for study, i do engineer or doctor, but i have no. so i a worker. i liking my top work here, and i helping all people.
I prouding that many comphuter companies are building by me. I support them with my shoulders, but they are pressing me down under their weight. I looking at this bad thing. Poor people having no voice, so i no say about no paisa. But i happy. I happies than the comphuter people who coming early, going home late. The always tension on faces. The always half asleep. I seeing them daily. They having lot of paisa, but they also tension. They looking so young, but tired like the old. I see their face and feel pavam. I even seeing many people night coming and morning going. They not seeing goo looking sun and sky and stars, they life like machines. Pavam people.
But my life happy. I having a wife, and a son. He also want top man in the city. He want having study good and get good paisa. He always dreaming he working comphutor companies i building and telling all that his appa building this all. I feeling proud them time.
But i also afraiding of his dream. He also going and losing beauty of life like other comphutor people i seeing daily. He also going night and coming morning. I dont liking that thing, but he always says that comphutor making paisa. I dont like it.
I laugh at the situation. I sitting top of world, as i dreaming, and working happy day and night. I sitting on top and seeing full bangaluru under my feet. I like a raja of the city. But i still know i from the lowest people of city. Under me, comphutor people looking at the TV phull day. They biggest people in city. But they big people having no happienss. I small people having no paisa. Someone said,God's equal to all men, just that he's more equal to some. I looking and laughing at situation. Sorry i leaving. My supervisor come and shouting to work hard. I making more buildings, sitting top of world. But i knowing that i making jails for more comphutor people, who sitting inside my building. I source of making more people tension. l know, i top of the city, and i liking raja being at top. I top of bangaluru, btill i still a topori. Isn't this life all about ......

Random programming

2006-02-23T11:11:00.001+05:30

: The otherday, when i was hooked on with Venkat of TCE (sorry, of IIM L), i got a strange remark. He was surprised to see my blog devoid of any technical junk. So i decided to decorated this place with a little discovery of mine, taking into consideration all the time i have spent in the industry. Hey Guys, hold on, i am not gonna kill your nerves with some technical marvel, i just wanted to formalise a methodology of programming we follow in our daily lives !!!
After a hectic week of releases, and time constrained work schedules (coz we used up the time playing Virtual Tennis on teh comp), i could see myself adhering to the programming practice, i'd like to call - Random programming. I am sure you guys must have at time done this; this is the stae when you want the computer to do something, but some other thing happens. Most of the time, after the exercise, you have no freaking clue to what was wrong, or how the program started working. Nevertheless, you were successful in transforming the "deadline" to a curve on the Project Manager's face.
Remember those times, when even the simplest code of starts behaving in a way we never expect it to, or the times when a compilation message reports in a line number that is virtually non-existant.
Well guys, those are the times we switch to this mode of programming.
The history of this art is as old as it is glamourous. Though during the early times, it was called "exploring", it was no different. And for its credit, this art has many credentials to it. Radioactivity was discovered using this technique, and so was the great continent of America. The only evolution it has had is the on computers, this weird art of getting the unexpected has catapulted to higher dimensions.
I have also experienced those late night urges to comment out chunks of code, add a equals clause in conditional statements, and remove the vertical of the plus, just to get the damn thing working. Guys, have you never rebooted your machine, praying silently that the bug disappears ??
I think the programming manuals must add another step during the compile or build process. "Pray with full dedication that the program works" !!
In this context, i recall a conference of embedded system programmers of the aviation domain. When the lecturer asked about the participants who would fly on a plane that holds their software, none volunteered, except one. The reson he forwarded was equally hilarous, he knew that the software by his guys could not even get the plane, taxi to the runway. Sure thing, it is difficult to search for a black cat in a dark room, specially if you think there is none !!!
Guys, what is your take on this ? Send me your comments, and also specific instances of this successful technique. I think we must start a research discipline for this academically challenging subject, for a reason that it is practiced widly in the industry, and for the fact that though it seems to work, you are never sure about when it will fail.

How much food would a food cooker cook, if a food cooker could cook food ??

2006-02-23T11:11:00.000+05:30

: <<>SET 1 and SET 2 >>

I know, thats an awefully big title for a seemingly small accomplishment of your. Well, accepted that by your standards, climbing the mount everest would be a good methapor, nevertheless, you have a long way to go from here. Guys, i am flaunting about an adventure that a small group of MEN had, at the most unlikely place- the kitchen.
It all started when the hitch-hiking Arun Ponniah planned to have adventure at home this time. Looked like the Nandi Hills and Shakleshpur trips could not quench his thirst for thrills. So the three abdominal software professionals sat down to do a feasibility analysis of the plan. The skill sets were taken into account, and a plan laid out accordingly. Suresh, the eldest and the most experienced approved the final end-goals of the project. As an external resource, the team was lucky to have Karthik, a professional executioner (working at DISA) and Premnath, a through Mechanical Engineer (from TAFE) join the ranks.
As usual, I got up late (well, 12:30 is not really late man, come on) and lost the platoon, that had already marched out to gather the requirements. Feeling left out, I gave myself the luxuary of a bath and waited patiently for the horde to return. It seemed that the requirement gathering phase went on smoothly (without bugs) and the first set of requirements was set in order. I could see tomatoes, carrot, pudhina, thuvaram parappu, dal, rice, ocra, and many other things (i have no idea what they were !!)
Then the experts of the group discovered that we were still missing some essentials, and i was sent out as a sentry to gather the remains. Being a freshman, i instantly dialled up the 24x7 technical assistance, and the call was fortunately answered by a person whom i regard a phenomenon in this field -my mother. I have so much relished the chapatis carved out of her hand that she now easily blackmails me on the name of the chapatis. I was supposed to get tomatoes, and my mother elucidated the feel of a 'good' tomato. Dutifully, i listened to all of it, but seriously, could not fit it into my head.
She said that it should neither be very red, nor very green, neither very sloppy, nor very hard, but must be the average one. How am i to know how a "average" tomato sounded ilke, i assume if it was average, it shall be surrounded by thousands of other average tomatoes (just like average people surrounded by a million more, only the extra-ordinary stand out)
Hesitantly, i moved towards the vendor, but quickly retraced my steps, completly shaken by the sheer number of customers choosing his wares caerfully. In this pack, i did not want to end up looking like a jerk. Help came, as my cell phone blew the alarm, and luckily for me, Premnath was on his way.
With the reserve forces in, i now was more confident in completing my mission. Under the able leadership of Premnath, i marched towards the shop. He did all the negotiations, and the only thing i could make out was that a kilogram of tomatoes cost 14 rupees. We also got some eggs (i did the talking for this) and retreated towards the homw base.
At home, the project had already started, and i could feel that smell of sambar fillling the room. AS in any project, the requirements were changed to suit our comfort, and then meticulously worked on.
The work was modularized, and i was assigned the task of cutting the coconut. Arun Ponniah did the job of cutting the many powders we had got and dropping them into small containers. Karthik and Suresh anna took the positions in the place that mattered- the kitchen, and we were happy to fall back on the secondary positions - i was reading a book, and Arun Ponnian turned on his bed. After what seemed like eons, we could see our efforts materialise. This was the first time in six months I felt that I was actually at home. The smell of food cooking, on a hot sunday afternnon, when you are relaxing with a good book in had is indeed bliss.
Arun suggested that we get some plantain leaves, to make the feast kind of complete, and thus ,we started out to scan the locality for the potential target. I added chips and laddos to the platter, primarily to satisfy my sweet tooth, and then to make the already complete menu, complet'er'.
By the time the action was finished, it was half past four. After dutifully clicking our maiden venture, i settled down with the others to relish the spoils (not literally here) of our war.
THe five of us ate like we never have eaten before, partly because it was the result of our hard work, and majorly because the morning breakfast could not contain our hunger till five. The applause of our victories were ringing, as we filled ourselves to the maximum (Arun even insisted that he shall not leave till he savours the curd rice). OF all that i remember, we had steaming hot rice, samba, polli kolumbu, moru kolumbe, chips, laddoo, curd rice, cabagge-carrot curry and omlete to satisfy our hunger.
After a good meal, we (Arun and i ) cleaned up the place of action, the battle field and completed the job. The hero of the day, Karthik anna, was escorted to the bus stand by our second in command - Suresh Babu. I accompanied Premnath to the bustand, and returned to cope up with the evening work of "House Searching". There was enough rice for the night and our dinner was simplistic compared to the feasty afternoon.
Well, though i had not worked on the large and important part of the mission, we took an active part in the testing and acceptance phases. Armed with this knowledge, i may one day become a better cook (even better than Sanjeev Kapoor may be), till then, i am trying to answer a question that rackeld my brain the whole day....
Will there be a time i'd relish food prepared exclusively by me ???? Hmmm, no for now, but one day, yes..... i promise to myself that i'll learn coking, ah, i mean cooking...... ;-)

Cool and composed- thats how this art is practised

Who said that too many cooks spoil the broth ?

An Expert at Work

cooking is an art !!!

A warrior who fought well

Our Battleground

My Contribution

THe armoury of our conquest

Cut, chop and slice !!!

Preparing for the battle

Angled delicacies

THe starters

Posing for the better (Premnath and Karthik)

Hero of the DAY - our team leader (Premnath and Karthik)

Post victory Rituals !!!

Fruits of hardwork are always tasty (typically a feast)

eating happily ever after (Arun and Suresh)

Spoils of the WAR !!!! (Arun and Suresh)

Move - Click - Move ::: It works ....

2006-02-23T11:10:00.002+05:30

.: After four years of toil in the college, i am seemengly having a relaxed life here. Graduating out of the engineering college was not very difficult, and i emerged out as any other average computer professional. The harder part was to get one of those software companies recruit me as their man-at-work. I struggled, flunking a couple of interviews, and was finally into on of those multi million rupees software firms, that claim to be the pulse of modern India.
My training was nothing different from college, the regular lecturers (as usual, i slept through them) and some tests, for our probation. The tests seemed to be like hurdles, but we then realised that there were no more than formalities. Training ended without much fanfare, and i joined the project.
Compared to the college life, work here is easier, right from the day, i was relieved from my "bench". In my peaceful cubicle i am spending the initial part of my professional carreer. For your information, i am a part of the testing team of this massive mega project. My team is a vividly composed horde of experienced graduates, underlined with newbies like me. As i started work here, i felt the surge of excitement and enthusiasm to achieve. Somehow, this was the same feel i had, four years earlier, when i had stepped on the grounds of the college. The project i joined was already on its trajectory to completion, and citing that reason, i was deprieved of any real effective work on the team. But my nature forced me to take initiatives, and i went ahead to find myself something worthwhile.
The story is different today.
Three months into the team, my job is just as it was, boring and mundane. The only change was that i was released to the "automation" side, and i thought that i could learn atleast in this capacity. For an enriching carreer, i decided to stay on and get my hands dirty with experience. Till today, i have been taking initiatives, trying to change the way process flows here, but all my efforts usually go down the drain owing to the rich legacy the company has. Three months down the lane, i have started getting bored up of the job. The only consolation is that i see my team mates going onsite, maybe one day, i'll be there. I always resure myself that this year, i'll put in my full efforts to get throught the CAT.
A couple of my pals encourage me to give up this secure job, for that sake of other exciting ones. They reason that for the talent i have, my destiny is not this. On my inside, i know that they may be true, but i am not very sure. I see the risk involved, i see the money involved. My current financial states never will allow me to take such a plunge. Maybe this is not the best time for me to take the plunge. Is that friend of mine, just inpiring a flattery. Hmmmm. with a long sigh, i recount my days back in college. There for the three months, we atleast do three different chapters. In here, i am staring at the same screen, day in and day out.
I still remember that subject we had during the first semester. It was called Intorduction to computers, a lab subject. IT was there that we were taugh clicking and moving. There was also an exercis on MS EXCEL .Now i realise the importance of the subject. Unfortunately for me, i am losing context of everything else i leaned .. AI .. Neural Nets.. Distributed Systems. Well, i aint using them anymore.
So, I have started disliking, if not hating my job and the scenerio here. I dont like the way they address u. They "release" me from a project. For them, the "resource" must be used, thats is profitable. With a work force of a few ten thousands, i can't blame them. As i sit, staring at the bleak computer screen, i realise the direction my life is taking. Or, do i really have a direction in my life ....
Well i guess the boss is around the corner, i think i must get to work. Fine.. move the mouse....click ....move the mouse....click .. yeah, its working.........but my life isn't ...........

The Demarkating Mark

2006-02-23T11:10:00.001+05:30

: To make a mark in this world is not easy, but to make marks in examinations is even more difficult. Hey Parash, I heard your sister call you up and proudly announce her sem results. I knew that that should catapult you back into the memory lanes. But the incident that emerged out of the pool of memory was both disturbing and inspiring. Parash, with your permission, i'd like to continue about this, the story of fall and rise. So guys, this story spans a complete semesetr, the last to be more precise and the protagonist of this prose is not a person, but a subject of study.
My mind vaguely paints the picture of the subject that your department guys learnt a sem after the entire college learnt it. Well, it was called OR - Operation Research. The subject is respected widly across the industry and the engineering faculty.
The course was handled by a faculty member who happeded to be the class tutor, and a person well-versed with the dynamic of the final year students. Despite the best efforts, the students were still looking forward to making the remaining time of the college, the best ever. This was not true for a closed group of intellectuals, who were actually even more committed to regular studying. The group included a short, well-groomed student, luckily for whom, mathematics was imbibed in her blood. Her father headed the Mathematics department at a renowned universtity, and she benifitted from his experience and his collection of the mathematics paraphernalia.
As it turned out, the students flunked in all the three internals. The general conception was that being in the final years, graduating should not be a problem. But as luck would have it, the lecturer turned out to be a pretty much straight forward person who believed that marks got are the marks earned. Parash, I still vividly remember the first internals, when you got through the test as you were lucky enough to have a staff wh0 neglected the exam decorum, for your supervision. I still wonder at your guts to read that novel, Vidya gave you and wait for Mr. Sincere Bharath to finish a sum. Then you would greedily and obidently copy the entire answer from him (including the errors he made). Well, the lecturer obviously found out, but surprisingly, you were never meddled with. There was yet another incident when an assignment was distributed, and you submitted the result, without even glancing at the questions (thanx to that girl, who did it all for you except actually writing it, or submitting it). Apart from that, the classes went on as usual, with you continuing to do your regular non-college reading, and an occassional doubt session.
It was on that fateful day that the entire process heated up. The lecturer and the girl, over a casual afterl lunch meet, told you that OR required practice. You were totally against, you knew that the knowledge of the technique was sufficient. It was the job of the computers to solve those equations. After a long and useless arguement, the challenge finally came up. Though it was never worded, the implicit understanding was always there.
After a fast forward of months, the sem results came. You hurried to see that prized sheet of data, looking to just one figure, or rather two. After the crowd dissloved, you eyes moved towards the two numbers.
There was the fullest drama there. The external marks were the same. However, there was a one mark difference in the internal marks. So Parash , dear Parash, you ultimately lost ??
At first your mind wanted to think that the lecturer was responsible for this bias. But deep inside, you know that the lecturer was righteous.
This was the time i knew that the mistake was on my part. Diligence was the word. Lasziness was the demarketer. Parash, you had lost. Though you still don't accept that OR requires practice, nor have u given up ur ideals, to the world you were still a loser then. That mark could have increased your GPA, and all that is fine, but losing the challenge was an insult.
Parash, that mark has left a mark on you, a mark that separates the diligent from the lazy, the sincere from the care-free. Parash, was that mark, not the demarkating mark ? .....

Madras nalla Madras

2006-02-23T11:10:00.000+05:30

: Hey Parash, looks like you enjoyed the Madras trip. Good dude. Wait.... are you asking me, what proof do i have that i was at Madras ?? I know, I know everyone is asking this right. That is why i got the proof along. Just look at the pics above, those are the ones from the trip. I know you are asking that when i am not there in the pics, what does it prove, right ?? Dude, think logically, i was the one clicking aways the photoes, so how can i be there in the photo itself. Ok fine, lets do a quick logical analysis to prove that i was there at Madras.
What : To prove that I was at Madras
Why : Because u asked me whether i was there
How : See, the pics, i was the one who clicked the camera
Where : THere is a click button, i clicked there
When : When all the people were giving pose and i said CHEESE.

AS i have correct answers for the questions, Parash, you are logically proved to be there at Madras. Now taking the story ahead. You left Bangalore with Bharath and landed at Prashanth's house,Madras. Then came the grand evening. You Guys were sitting at that HISTORICAL place, the one that is lucky enough to feature in the movies, capturing the imaginations of the directors. It did not spare the guys and when we were asked for our location, we let our horses of imaginations run wild. The result of it was quite evident from their faces, as they heaved their way through the puzzle we had set them.
We settled down with on the beach, with a couple of bajji, generously borrowing the shop's chairs for the entire meeting. Lucky that the shop keeper did not drive us out, quoting that this is all the seating we get for the minimal comodities we bought from him !!!
I felt that nothing much had changed in four years and after, as the goup had its own starting trouble. Like a group discussion, the "TEACHER" blurted out her long ringamorales. The large group broke into smaller segments, each settling with the person they were comfortable with. It did take some time to "acquaint" ourselves with each other. I could figure out that depression in Vidya's face .
Bharath and Prash arrived late as usual (Bharath's effect maybe). Was that the reason you left for the meet, leaving them at home. Vidya was her emotional self, this time due to Ram Brinda's absence. Is it that she just requires some reason to get upset ???
Two noticable things remained unchanged, while an important paramater, that was the identity of the class, was missing. Firstly, whenever there was an opportunity to force onself in silver hailde and photosensors (camera pa), the guys never missed the chance. Secondly, maintaining the typical hostel tradition, all food that passed accross the "HOSTEL GANG" and "ATTAM GHOSTI" got reduced in its size. Prash was his regular reticent, Bharath the moderators, through the meeting. Though there were rare incidents of teasing boys with girls (the one thing i called the identity), the spirit of the "B" section was indeed missing. Murugiah's matter was raised, but it soon died down without hue and cry. AS usual, there was not technical talk (not even asking who was working on what domain), another "cool" feature of our class. Parash, how did u manage to grab the chance to photograph all, when u had officer by ur side ??
Parash, you know that Murugiah is going to the US. Is that why he treated you guys with kadalai (or whatever it is called). I think it was very thoughtful of him. In US, are these thing not rare., so thats why he treated his friend with the rarity of delicacies !!!Palini arrived late, but was not lucky enough to get a glimpse of Mary Breefa, she was the first one to leave i guess !!
The only other thing that i can recollect was Shankar Ram's fight with that small boy selling "sundal". Hmm, must not the gubeerjolly teach him reticence, to fight with guys of his caliber., or was he doing that right then ??
Anyways, after a good time, reacquainting ourselves with our past, we started to move out. We left the girls to celebrate the new year with a cake and NO DRINKS . We guys celebrated it, in our typical style ... The gubeer-jolly style !!~~~~~ ;-)

One Second Please......

2006-02-23T11:09:00.003+05:30

: Hello everybody.
Welcome to the new year. I realise that this time around, the new year was a little late, but i could not help it. I was forced between this year and the previous, to correct, what the scientists proclaim to be an anomaly in your planet's revolution, primarily caused by tides and crap.. Fine, no more jargon, just wanted to tell you why was i here.
Ultimately, i am here, and so....,so what ?? So...., i have delayed you all by a complete second. ANd mind you, dont underestimate my power. Remember that i was enough to push a full set of 31536000 counterparts behind schedule. I was wondering the ripple effect that my presence may have, in your life.Just think of a situation when you only were unaware of my existance. You get up in the morning, and ask for tea.... you get it a second early. Fine, that is great .... You switch on the television, and see that you have missed a second of your favourite program, that is fine again. But it is after this that i show my full impact. You reach the railway station to catch the 9:00 local to the office . You arrive a second late, and see that the tain is already chugging away. Puffing yourself to the max, you manage to get into the train and relax. You move along the office, a second late, propogated down from the morning. At the office, the moment you swipe your access card, you find that the 'scheduled' power faliure had rendered your the swipe void !!!! You stand out wondering what to do. Even as the thoughts pass your mind, the gensets restore the power, but you have already lost a whole fifteen minutes waiting. You move to the office, only to find that your collegues haev left for that important meeting with the on-site. You hurry along, and try to gasp the proceeding during the first fifteen minutes of the meeting. But then, you find yourself not understanding the requirements, coz you missed the first vital fifteen minutes. Dejected, you return to you desk, spend the next hour drooling through the System Requirement Specifications, and finally acquaint yourself with your job. You are already an hour late, and having missed your lunch at the cafeteria, you move to the hotel on the otherside of the road. The servers and cooks there take their good time to serve yu, with the other customers, and hence, you lose another hour. I only look back at you, now in such a blown up state and grin. You return back to the office, to implement the work you had been assigned, but knowing that you are behind by two hours sends chills down your spine. In tension, you write code, generously decorated with bugs, only to spend another four hours debugging it all. Six hours behind schedule, you return home, a defeated man, assuring yourself that you will make it up the next day.
As you drop on the bed, will you not wonder how my presence set your single day to doldrums.
Dude, so know that every single second is important. Coz of your lasziness, you have made people wait, but u'll realise the pain only when you are made to wait (like at forum, for 3 hrs !!!!).
So my humble appeal to you is that know though i am a simgle second, i am indespensible. Like bugs in software, lost time also grows, only to blow up on your face.
So dude, be warned that i am here, and please acknowledge my presence. Are you wondering the moral of this story ??? Here it is :: please set your watches on second late and enjoy sleep for an extra second !! Afterall, when this very year is late, why must you be on time ????

THE LOCUS

2006-02-23T11:09:00.002+05:30

: After a heavy lunch in the evening (got up at 12:30, so lunch at 4:00 was not a bad idea) and a heavier movie (Dhavamai Dhavam Irunthen), i felt no urge to enclose myself inside the converging walls of the house. My mind was slowly moving out to the city of Bangalore to drench itself in the spirit of the new year. Unable to sit back, i slowly picked up my body and started grooming it for the venture.
I have never known myself taking so long to pull up the appearences, but man, i have realised that this is bangalore, and appearences here are the character. Moreover, better you look, more the eyes slide over you !!! As i proceeded to catch up with my mind, i realised that i actualyl had no where to proceed to. Nevertheless, i locked the door and braved the scorching sun (Bangalore sometimes is also hot) towards to bus stop. As i moved over the road, a shining piece of coin invited my attention. I picked it up, and then, a plan stuck my mind. I ad no where to go, and here, i got hold of this fifty paise coin by destiny. Would it not be cool if i make this coin, my destiny. With this spark in my mind, I returned back and replaced my wallet, my wrist watch and cell-phone - the only thing that could bound me to reality. I picked up a fifty buck note (just in case) and continued.
I then formulated a rule, that led to the formation of this journey, that i proudly called, the locus. I decided that at every third cross roads, i'd flip the coin. On a heads, i'd proceed left, and on a tail, i'd go left. The clever in you may ask me the direction, if the coin stuck at its rim, in the center. For the sake of those nerds and that case, i was to take the straight road, if any, or toss again. As i started walking, the featureless road seemed to unfold before me the destinations it held. For a couple of turnings, there was not much to see except for some old grannies jsut out from the siesta. It was after the fourth flip that i reached the commercial area. The time also indicated that the crowd would be on the streets, as aimless as i was. As i moved around, i was struggling to keep hold on to my eyes ; they were swaying in the direction of the numerous nymphs trotting the scene. So many shops, so much crowd on the new year, i liked the spirit of this city. I started noticing some strange things, and as a sort of exercise, decided to survey half a dozen thing, of wich i shall speak later.
Tired of flipping the coin, and passing the same lane twice (the begger staerd at me from the corner, as i passed him the second time, flipping the coin) i decided to change the rule. The new rule was obvious. Respecting the abundance of beauties in the area, i decided the follow the choicest ones, but ony till they either looked back, or took a turn into a blind alley (for my safety).
At that instant, i noticed this damesell in blue jeans and pink tops, decending from heaven to lead the way. As my legs floated in the path she took, i just looked around to make sure that my game was still unnoticed. As good things don't last long, she took a turn in the twenty third second...., and i lost her forever !!!!
IT is said that if God closes a door, he opens another, and from this right, i saw a better specimen, walking past me. I trailed her to quite a distance, trying to keep my eyes off her long hair and stylish walk. I maintained a safe distance, till she slowly turned her head and paced up her stead. I thought she discovered that i was stalking her, and hence, i turned around instantly and abruptly, near this bus stand. After she left, i browsed for another girl to pass by, but found none. This was the time, my mind reverberated ; Parash, never follow wonam da, they'll take you for a ride. You follow them, they ditch you, at a place you can find no other, literally......
Not knowing how to continue, i hesitantly looked back at the direction she had disappeared. Thank God she had left, but i guess her mind would have shared similar thought. Eager to continue the game, i saw a bus screech at the stop. I felt my pocket for the singel note i had and boarded the bus.
I was lucky to get that Rs. 25/- pass, using which i could tour the city of Bangalore by any bus. As i placed myself near the window, i decided to get down at every fourth stop (why fourth - good question, i just made up that number) and turn right for the next bus stop. In this fashion, my locus took me to places far and wide. I remember that i passed Koramangala, M.G.Road, Domlur, Marathalli, Lal Bagh, Majestic, Malleswaram.... and many other places whose name, though was prominently printed at the bus stops, i cannot pronounce. I have no bearing about the route or idea of the bus numbers i took. After satisfying my boredom, i wanted to return. I looked at the sky and guessed that it should be * o clock (half an hour back, a gentle man told me that it was 7:30) and decided to return back home. With just 25 in my pocket, i could not afford an auto from a place i had no idea about. Slowly, but steadily, i asked my way though the city, and finally reached the fabled Jayanagar Bus Stop (why fabled ??? Coz i live here man ). I walked home, as tired as an explorer. I used up the remaining money for the dinner, and fell right into my cozy bed to dream of all the places (amd the people) i had encountered during this path with a rule, the locus.....
And wait, thats not it, here are my findings and learnings......

1. I counted that the number of Bars and Pubs here outnumbered the number of decent hotels i'd go for food.
2. The number of hotels and hospitals seemed to match, even in the sizes (A hospital for a hotel ??? )
3. The average age of the population on the streets on the new year was not more than 28 ( when i told this to my PM, he said that my eyes saw what i wanted them to see, thats all !!!)
4. There are far more couples (young couples here of course) outnumbers the singles by a huge margin !!!
5. There are quite a lot of women conductors in the buses. (I found the ration to to 1:2)
6. The beauties of the city (quite literally) are just awesome man...
7. Many people do need my presence, as i got atleast 9 missed calls during that timefrom different people !!!!
8. Never ever roam about without a destination, thoug it is interesting initially, it'll drain your energy and leave you in unknown places ultimately) -- THE BIGGEST LESSON I LEARNT, never locus around like this !!!!

Had a Dog's day at office ??

2006-02-23T11:09:00.001+05:30

: Hi Guys,
Let me intorduce myself. I am that faithful dog, currently residing at the office premises of Trilogy. I see Parash leave home daily at around 11. He usually grins at me, leaving a comment for me to digest. But today, he even clicked my picutre, so i decided to honour him with prose on his blog.
There were actually three pictures clicked, two by Parash from such a distance that my face was not clear. But thanks to Arun Ponniah who ventured near my ferociuos self anf gave me that good looking replica. Well, the sofa you see at the background is the place i relax after literally a dog's day. I think i deserve comfort better than this because i work a little hard. Specifically, as security has been tightened after that crappy firing at IISc, my work has become even more tedious.
Through the day, i see cars zooming in and out of the Salarpuria Infinity, noticing every individual that pass through the gates. For lunch, there is that wonderful pantry that houses all food that i relish. Well, days are pleasant, and i want to continue to live this life of luxuary. If only anyone could get me some chilled milk a juicy bone as i wake up, my life would be completed. Otherwise i have no complaints. Thats all from my side, let me sleep for now. Good night.

That Question

2006-02-23T11:09:00.000+05:30

Hey Parash, is it not about "that question" you are talking about. I hope no, coz that is a very sensitive question. So, you have decided to ask it, well, i cannot stop you. So go ahead, let your story run....Guys, Parash has decided to write about it, and i think you must tell him what you feel about it. His mind is a little twisted up and your comments may help me get it straight.
So Parash, let me give them the context of this discussion. There is a girl, and there is a boy. They have been good friends for a long time now, also special friends for quite some time. The guy knows that the girls is special for him, so does the girl (Hey, i am not pin-pointing anyone). The girl sends flowers to the guy on his birthday. The guy buys the girl, furry dolls for her birthday. Both have enjoyed each other's company during a special family function. They chat over phone daily, till late nights. So far, so good. But what next.
The guys seems interested in the girl's well being (not the girl herself). The girl doubly so, but how do they define that relationshhhhhip. The problem here is that the guy's friends know about the special interest he has on the girl (maybe out of jealously, try to spoil his date despeartly). The girl's friends that she trusts him more than any of her own gender. Safely, they put a tag of brother-sister around that relationship, to avoid any contraversies, generated by the environment. Others say that they are FRIENDS, though he rides only her pillionon his bike.
Parash, don't you sometimes wonder, how two totally different people were brought together, sheerly by the fact that they were classmates long ago, or may be because the boy helped the girl, or just because the guy requested his junior to introduce her to him (just for fun, the guy says you enjoyed, let me also do it !!) , just to realise that she was also particular about that intro (thats where is all kicked off).
But Parash, tell me one thing for sure, where does all this go an end. Some of them settle down as friends, the other as couples. What happens to the subjets, only time shall decide.
Hence i leave the blog, for time to decide the fate of these people !!!

Kill anyone that ain't you

2006-02-23T11:08:00.002+05:30

: Hey man this is getting dangerous. This was something that happened to me, and i cant just believed it happened. Well, as i was driving from office, back home, i take the shortest road. Its usually crowded and not to say, dusty. Today seemed like anyother evening, except that it was quiter and dustier. As i drove over the road, i could see the buildings of software firms overtowering me. I was wondering the amount of change this city has under gone since i had shifted here.
Anyway, i knew that today was an important day, for i had managed to sneak past my boss and reach home and wife. She was waiting there, for me to come and take her to that movie I promise everyday. I did not want to upset her today, and so, drove faster than usual.
As i negotiated those dangerous curves, i noticed that my scooter had got older with me, and was squeaking under my thrust to get home fast. I still persisted, to avoid that daily night lecture on how she was bored all day long and how i must give her the time she enjoyed when she was younger.
Thoughts in my head, Dust on my face, i drove along that covert side line, where none of those fast cabs zoom dare to enter. Just as i was thinkning about this, a white ambassador wheezed past me and made a screeching halt before me. I would have bumped into it, only if my scooter and I was a little more younger and faster, but now, i could comfortably brake at a safe distance. A man, clad in what typically looked like the costume of a traveller, something like a dark uniform , reached out to me and heaved crumpled piece of paper at my face.
Fully aware that this piece of paper could as well shatter my peace of mind, i tried to honk along. On second thoughts, i just stopped, in case the man wanted some help ??
Well, I looked at the paper, and on it was written in a nearly illegible writing, the words : IISC, Bangalore. So, this gentle man wanted an address. Fine, so he was looking for something that i still consider is the priemer pearl of this city as far as the education goes (the youngster think otherwise, for them the numerous pubs and bars that dot the city are this city's real essence !!)
I was in no real compulsion to help him, but as i was to take that road, i as well waved him to follow me.
After a short while, i pointed to the right and told him to move on, to find his destination. Without even bothering to thank me, the car raced towards its destination. As it accelerated towards IISC, i could see that queer number plate it had. This was one of those numbers you could get when you pay huge sums to the authorities. THey call these, fancy numbers !!
Boys these days are crazy, they think that adorning their cars with such numbers may change their luck. Anyway, as i moved on i heard crackers burst behind me. Did i not say that guys these days are crazy, doing Diwali thing this time of the year. Hmm,. fine, i just moved on to see the anxious face of my wife.
When i reached home, i saw my entire family glued to the TV. Looked like there was some sensational twist in those boring soaps. But to my surprise, everyone was tuned into a news channel, something that happens only when all other channels are blacked out !
I moved in, anticipating some coffee, i noticed that there was some discussion on a terrorist attack. Kashmir has become a graveyard oflate. I walked past those curious onlookers, i noticed something quiet strange about the scenes in the TV. All the images were being relayed live to us. That building looked familiar,......, wait........, i think that building is not familiar, i know what it was. It seemed like my very own IISc, i had passed by it just a few minutes earlier.
As i hurriedly sat down to get myself updated, i was able to picture the entire incident. Some terrorists had landed at IISc and opened random fire. One professor has fallen to the bullets and a couple of others were critical. The final note said that the assailants had used a white ambassidor car to reach the venue and carry out their mission. The incident had taken place at around seven in the evening.
With prespiration covering my face, i looked at my watch, the time was just half past seven. White Ambassidor car, attack at seven, IISc bangalore, terrorists are tourists,... this was too much for me to swallow.
I slowly picked myself up and went to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. Those words of the news reporter resounded in my mind IISc....., white Ambassidor car...., dark uniform.......

Birthday Surprises

2006-02-23T11:08:00.001+05:30

: Warning : This blog may contain material that may be considered offensive, though not really vulgar. So please read this material with discretion and caution. The female readers are specifically requested to exercise caution. Furthur, no offence is intented towards anybody through this blog.

So, it was another birthday, and it was another reason for us to enjoy. It is said that great men are usually born on days that are important to the general public. I am not really sure if our friend Srikanth was that great a person, but as luck would have it, he was born on December 25. He celebrated Christmas in style till this day, a birthday he shall never want to forget.
This is how it all started. Our mate from chennai inautix, Arvind Balaji was here to celebrate his time with us. KN Karthik joined us for the occassion, and we decided to freak out for christmas. These guys had just been to Nandi Hills the previous, and were too tired (KN was also short of Rs. 200, he had paid to the traffic constable) to really reak out in the morning, and we lazed around till mid afternoon. During this time, KNK clicked a couple of photos, but unhappy about the quality, deleted them . It was then that our birthday boy invited us for lunch. In the presence of Vidya and Raji, not to mention, Sangili, we updated ourselves with the raging rumours.
One interesting rumour was that Vidya's marriage was fixed, and that Mr. Naidu story came to the forefront. I tried to open the discourse, but was humbled by Raji, time and again. Tired by the effort, Sriki took over and made a great joke of the entire incident.
Then i also learnt that Murugiah was on his way to Bangalore. I looked at Raji expecting to see the face of a shy girl. Well, i was in for a surprise, there seemed to be no reaction at all, maybe she was too busy looking at her food, the one she could not manage to eat.
After that bad lunch (Sriki did all his part to make the lunch good, only that the food was horrible), we parted and decided to take MG Road for a ride. Christmas night was fantastic, and the place glowed with lights. Manikandan and his groups was also making waves here, and the groups joined. Mr. Balamurugan, of the CAPACHINA fame (this story follows) also joined us and nearly persered Arun to treat him for the job he is doing at Trilogy. I had to share that burden as i was also one of those lucky (unlucky here) one in there.
We barged into Barrista, where Ashok (Balamurugan's companion) requested for a capachinno. The college habit persisted, and all of us chanted sheepisly "plus one for me". Balamuruga elaborated us on the +1 culture that we had at college. This is where he said he had ordered capachina, rendering himself the direct target of our jokes right away.
After a good time, we parted, and this is where the actual story starts. KNK and i wanted to gift Sriki, something sensational for his birthday. We drooled over a wide range of items, when we finally zeroed in on getting him ---- A CONDOM !!!
Crazy we, I had no idea (and experience) getting it. KNK gracefully took lead and went to a medical shop. He waited till it was all empty, and then slowly, said THAT WORD. The shopkeeper non-chalantly picked one up and gave it to him. For this, KNK had to part with another 45 bucks ( I later reimbursed him 20 bucks).
It was all over so calmly, no reaction from either sides, whatsoever. Hmm, looks like that thing is pretty common in here. We carefully gift-wrapped it, but only after removing one of the pieces, leaving the remaining nine intact. The reason we plucked it out was obvious. All of us were 21+, and good boys, and worst, never seen it in our lives. Well, we were no lazy in seizing this opportuninty, and had to make the maximum use of it (the opportunity) !!! After seeing it, we darted to Sriki's house, desperate to show him our new finding.
Sriki was not prepared for any surprise, and to get him ready, KNK gave him a bang on his back. After a while later, when Sriki showed us his back, we could see the imprint on KNK's palm. Well, anyways, we gave him the gift, and he opened it slowly. I seriously wanted to see his reactions, and if possible ercord his thoughts. The moment the cover opened fully, there was and errie silence in the room. Then Sriki cried "yenna da ithu", and peals of laughter made the success of our joke apparent. I actually though that for a guy of Sriki's calibur, he'd throw the thing, and run away shouting "shiva shiva, shiva shiva". He was decent enough to accept our gift.
That night, Sriki's room mates had a good time hitting this 6 foot tall guy, all over, just for the reason that he was born in this world. He still grumbles about the birthday bash he got that night.
Well, dude, you were into this cruel world 22 years ago, so you must learn how tough the world is. That is what was meant by those birthday bashes, and even our gift !!!!. Happy Birthday Sriki.....

Please don't read this......

2006-02-23T11:08:00.000+05:30

Hey, did you not see the title of the blog. Dude, don't you know english. It says "Please dont read this..." Have any idea what it means ??? It means that you are requested not to read this. Well, so please stop right away, and do something useful. That is what that icon also means. So please stop reading this right away.
Man, please, still continuing are you ?? Now this is bad. Really bad. This is the last time i am requesting. Please stop reading, or else....... well, fine, if i tell you that if you read this, you'll have ill luck, will you stop ??
Please i know you are reading this when you are to be working now, so why the hell are you reading this?? This is bad, you are doing injustice to your current job. I am serious, there is nothing useful in this blog entry, so please dont read it.
Hmmm..., so you have reached so far. Can you just not listen to me ?? Fine, then there is something that i want to tell you

MAN IS A A FOOL,
WHEN IT IS HOT
HE WANTS IT COOL
WHEN IT IS COOL,
HE WANTS IT HOT
ALWAYS WANTING WHAT IS NOT !!!

Fine, you have read that also, but i gurantee that you cannot read beyond this, thats a challenge. Coz there is nothing more to read !!!

Has someone heard me ???

2006-02-23T11:07:00.002+05:30

: Knock Knock ?? Anyone home ?? Looks like someone's read my last blog and reported to my Project Manager. Hmmm... anyways, that has had the perfect impact it could have. I was writing about my regular day, but i'd love to write about a day like today. Started the day with multi player tennis, went on to play Age of Empires. After a couple of really tiring games, we decided to switch to play Quake Arean. We felt that we had shed too much blood, so we finally quit playing games such shooting games and erverted back to tennis.
Man, it was a hard day out here. So many games, in a single day, man, this is hard on me. K, I am leaving, gotta rest after such a hard day. Byeeeeeeeeeee

And Dude, whoever it was, thanx a lot, for the fun we've had. Our PM gave us this day off !!!!
(FYI, today was a day after release, so we were free, we are not like this daily. Afterall, after the work, we do need to chill off)

What have you done to your life !!!

2006-02-23T11:07:00.001+05:30

: Hi Parash, read the title ??? Well, thats precisly the question that I wanted to ask you. You come 7 days a week to the office, and then still complain that life is getting dull ?? This is not right. Come on, lets now analyse. So here's how your day starts.
The alarm starts its song at 8:00, thats routine. You punch three buttons sheepishly, take that bedcover over your face and prevent the sun from looking at the glorious face of yours. The clocks ticks to 9:00, and the godess of sleep still has you in her power. The alarm of your cellphone is not ready to give up, and persists. Parash, learn from it, the power of persistance. This battle for the posession of your senses continues till around 9:30, and if the alarm wins, you are up, yawing, and complaining of the poor sleep you had. If the alarm clock loses the battle, you continue those interrupted dreams. After the spoils of this war, you go on, paste in a hand, brush in the other, like a painter, just inspired to create his masterpiece. With that stylish twist you turn it on (the tap), and start your art. Gentle strokes accross its body, your teeth relish the laze you hand has. As you return to your room, the clock in the cupboard smiles slyly at you. For an instance, you think that everything is in order, and as you move past it, you notice the trap set for you. Hell's broken lose, and that swearing ceremony starts. Shit, F**k, this is horrible. Late to office again. I know that this is just an attempt to remind that you are working, and you have to go to the office (that luckily has no time restraints).
Fast forward, and you find yourself walking in that dust and heat, sweatnig out, to earn your bread. Dodging the Bangalore traffic, you realise the reality of life. The fastest (bikes, cars ) dont get to the destination first !!! After miles of toils, you finally reach that respected zone, where the best brains of the country converge to create "BUSINESS VALUE". As you move up the stairs, your wrist watch catches your attention. Its an hour since the goddess of sleep lost the war, she's not given up her efforts. As you enter the arena, your access card jumps to take control and opens the door for you, of course with a little help from your hand. Then comes the main part of the day, as you enter THE PLACE - the pantry. Filling a cup with chocos and hot steaming milk, you get your breakfast, all specially and carefully cooked by yourself.
You jog all the way to your neat little cubile, and settle in your chair, in a posture that you'll keep for another couple of hours. Then comes the twist in the day, and someone special enters the scenes. ALl fresh and beautiful, she's more than ready for the day. She shows no signs of 'working' hard with you late last night. Hmm, you look at her, let out a cool chuckle as your mind races through last night's incidents. Parash, you knew very well that she is stubborn, you should have given it up, and let her take control last night. Now, you repent for it dude !!!
There, you slowly touch her, and she responds to it, and jumps with surprise. You drool all over her, trying to repeat you last night's performance, she does not seemed to be impressed. You let out a shriek, and then slowly turn to see if anyone is looking at both of you. Satisfied that no one else if looking, and you guys are the only ones in the cubile, you start once again, from the begining. This time it works, she's all happy with pleasure, and starts showing the results out. Thank God, you pray, atlast, you computer worked as you expected.
Lunch time is to come soon, you think you need a celebration, and an appetiser for that. After a short thought, you move to the best place to celebrate - the pantry. Grabbing a can of apple juice, happy that last night's bug is fixed, you schedule you day's plan. You decide to allocate time to check mail, time to ley in your blog, times to allocate to chat with friends, and finally, the remiaing time to work on the project.
Your fingers say, mail.yahoo.com and then there are those mindless forwards that you mercilessly delete, open Eclipse ( your lifesaver), and start TOMCAT and MSSQL servers. Just as you are at the peak of concentration, the bell rings, lunch time. Some one has come to your desk and invited to lunch. Rejecting it is no manners, so you submit and move to the fourth floor cafeteria. Grabbing that Rs. 25/- Lunch Box, and an apple, you fill you tummy for the sake of all the hard work you have done. The regular Lunch gossip and daily funda keep your senses awake, and you return to work. Lunch finished and you are sluggish, that is the time you decide to do the toughest task - challenge Jim Courier over a game of Tennis on Virtual Tennis circuit. As usual, he's to good for you, you have not just learned, and not able to bear that defeat, return to work.
As you look at her, and start typing, and time flies fast. Some time later you see your watch, coz your hands are aching, and see that ages have passed when you had earlier stared away from her. Looking into her makes you forget the world dude. 6:30, and you move upstairs to have that tasty snack, the only variety left in your life. Returning you finish up the remining wok, only to find out that a night-out may ease your day tomorrow. 8:00 and you get a couple of pings, requesting you to come up to the Gym.
You grab your knapsack, and shoes and head to sweat out, thinking of the person who forced you into this. After an hour of work, you return and a too tired to work. You sit to blog, after booking a cab for ten. As you are typing, the security calls you up to inform you that the cab is ready.... so you leave the blog in the middle to get the cab and head home to catch some peaceful sleep, for all the work you have done ..... , oooops, cab ready da, gotta leave. bye da/

Visionizzer ....... visualise my dreams :: THE ENTIRE STORY

2006-02-23T11:07:00.000+05:30

: Good Morning ladies and gentlemen. I am Parashuram and with me here is Suman Narayan, and we are here to present our software .... VISIONIZZER ...., visualise your visions ..............
Hey Parash, that line was the best pickup line you've ever used. THat one liner was you legacy. Asking me how i decided to put it in here, all of a sudden. Old memories were revived; last night KN Karthik was at home browsing through the CD collection i have, when he stumbled upon the good old VISIONIZZER cd. This was the same CD that was one of those original ones written by your mate-in-arms, Suman Narayan. For all those who know not about Visionizzer , (the demo about what it is, is here ), well, it was the brain child of Suman Narayan, ECE, TCE and N.Parashuram, IT, TCE. Developed incrementally over a span of years, its a product that the two called - the NUKE !! Just wanted to run you through that four years of development when you did learn about software systems, and times even before that.
Following the chronological order, the story dates back to std X, when ICSE required the students to do projects in BASIC language. People were struggling with graphics of BASIC, and so you got an idea. You did this ( version of Visionizzer in BASIC, then it was plainly called DRAW). The project we swept under the carpet to catch up with the pressures of board exams in the XII std. Actually, when you learnt C in X hols, i knew you were porting this to C, only that it was very naivly done.
At college, bugged by the routine, i remember you returned to the project and by the end of first year, you came up with this. All this, bearing the scolding by your mother, you were growing to be a nerd then. No friends, no fun, just computers and computers only.
Then came the turn in the story when you met someone. Hey, hold on, that someone was not Suman, it was Abinesh. With him, you wanted to do SOMETHING useful. I understand your desperation... the college was not challenging enough. Suman, being Abinesh's good friend, also joined in. YOu three went ahead with something, but nothing seemed to come up. By this time, Bansuri and Kartiyayini had hit the milestone of being the first from the set to go to something that you guys marvelled at those times - PAPER PRESENTATIONS AT SYMPOSIUMS!!
This got Suman thinking, and we (more appropriatly, he) sent the software to a couple of contests. We signed that Suman delivers Papers , and i deliver the Software (coz going for only one may seem costly !!!)
Rejected by them, i remember how dejected you felt. Well, this time Suman figured out the mistake, and made you realise the importance of presentation. The next one was sent, carefully and colourfully packaged to the Kongu College of Engineering; symposium named EPOCH. I still remeber how hard you tried to spell the word - S..Y..M..P..O..S..I..U..M. Parash, was that not the time you met that living legend A.Gerald Naveen, final year, CS, TCE, as you knew him. Suman seemd to be bedazzled by his authority over techie stuff. Suman got from somewhere an information that the last time Gerald Naveen was at this college, he rescheduled all t he contests, as he was in the final of all of them. That was the time Suman set you a goal, to rewrite history (which you did, three years later). But during those times, for guys like you, from the second year, surviving the contest seemed impossible. You did your best, Suman thought you had lost it, though you believed that the prize was yours. Results displayed at the notice board, and that was when Suman saw the result, saw that we had won, and said something that we followed with blood and soul - TECHNOLOGY TO THE CORE. Hmmm.... we may win only with superior technology, presentation will only see us in, not more than that. Kongu had also selected our paper, and we did presented it. Hey, it was on bio-metrics, my first feel about what research was about. The paper had swept the ECE department contests. But at Kongu College, the story was different. Amidst experts (like Ramanujam, final year, SASTRA, who won the second prize for his software - recycle bin for UNIX) , we gave up. We lost the contest but were happy that even Gerald Naveen was unable to make it. Well, for a genius of his caliber, he swept the other contest. Happy with the conquests, the college team returned as one, by train back to the home ground.
The second one was at Karunya College, this time Kumaran was with you. You won the software, but lost that software development. I remember that you wanted to avenge that and that is why you returned to Karunya to reclaim it, three years later.
The third was the NOT-TO-BE-SPOKEN-OF..... GCT, Coimbatore (they called visionizzer - buttonizzer, and laughed at it). Winning two contests, you boys had grown over confident, and so, you had to lose it. That defeat grew soer on you both and you guys decided to avenge this also. The only sorrow i still have is that GCT still stands unconquered. Parash, that was a big defeat for you.
That was followed by KLN, recovered with a second, and then came the semester holidays. This was the time when you guys realised that you had to make it a real NUKE. So you developed sample applications like these, after a lot of thought for names. The next sem wen on well, and third year, you ventured out to places far and wide. One notable instance was with Bharath to St. Michales. Though the college was not important, the experience he got hopefully helped him run Virtua 04 successfully.
This blog is getting longer by lines and i think i would not bore you with details, but just tell you some important events. One was that everytime you went to get OD, your HOD asked your name, well, he did not recognise you. It was always Suman who got the signatures from the principal. You invited all your friends to join, but Parashant, Ramya and Vidya were not interested at all !!! Why, i stil am not able to judge. Then there was this over all from KLN, the trophy that Ramprakash took home to make his parents proud. There was also this Madha, when Madhavan and Sunderasan came up with their SQL++, brilliant effort in a short span of time. Madha College also saw the rise of Chazzer, K. Ponniah Senthil's blood and sweat into that. Hey Pons, if you are reading this, please do send me a link to the place where chazzer is hosted on the internet. I also vaguely remember the colleges you visited. REC Trichy, Kongu, Karunya, KLN, AC TEch, Sethu, Raja, GCT, PSG, ......., i dont remember all of them and yes, CIT. Remember, you did not go to Anna univ's Abacus due to that day clash, coz Suman thought that we had to establish on the grounds of Coimbatore, anyways, Arun Ponniah brought home abacus with his G-interface). Parash, REC trichy taught you what competetion was, K.Ponniah often remarked about that.
ALl thought that this was one software that was going to places, but they did not realise that to every college, we took up an upgrade, no way can anyone write a new software for every college. Some thought that you toured for money, well no, the sheer fun of conquests drove the spirits of both of you !! Mentioning about Suman's management skills, he knew that if you were to make the rival softwares (circuits, flowchats...) your plugins, you'll win hands down. Many still think that he did nothing in Visionizzer, the truth is that he was the person who dreamt of Visionizzer...a dream that meant that you shall supress the record of maximum symposiums. Hey Suman, our count os somewhere aroud 33-35 right ?? And so, have we supressed the record of the college, well that was Visionizzer about.
There are many things that i have not written about, like that girl at Karunya, the first one I flirted with (!!!!) , finally losing all contests during the ends, and stuff, but i think these shall trigger those memories. At this occassion, i stand with you guys - Suman Narayan, K. Ponniah ,Madhavan and Sunderesan to look back the times we've had, criss-crossing Tamil Nadu.
Well that precisly what Suman wrote on my Shirt during the last day of college - En Taro Adun, Buddy. I think he meant - lets go on buddy, lets take all of them on .....
Hmmmm.... yes, EN TARO ADUN.

Of a broken heart .....

2006-02-23T11:06:00.002+05:30

: Hey Parash, I heard of the challenge. Hmmm... so you try to write as other, and that seem to even sound good. Though you are not able to sound like the person, the originals have always responeded that your writings as themselves was indeed quite accutate. So far so good. But here is a friend of your challenging my skills, lets go for it dude, put your creativity to the greatest stretch.

SO here is the situation given to you. A girl, with whom you are badly (madly will be a better word he says) in love turns a cold shoulder. You fell neglected and worn. From here, write a blog. Parash, i must say that such a sentimental situation is erally difficult, and for that reason, i saw that you spoke to some who have such an experience. So here comes the blog -- straight from my heart (btw, i prefer to have my heart in my brain !!!!) I thought the color (pink is for love, so i guess dull pink is for dulled love !!)must also be appropriate, so all those with black/white monitors, please bear with me...

And there she goes, shattering my heart to innumerable pieces, somehow taking pleasure in the fact that i can never put it together. There goes my love, taking with her, my senses and sensations, somehow taking pleasure in the truth that i am nothing without her. She has become my past, only to haunt my future. I see no mistake of mine, except that i loved her. I see no mistake of hers, except that she turned me down. She always spoke to me as if she wanted me to speak my mind out. She spoke to me as if she wanted to take my heart out. Speak she did, like she always was expecting this day. But when this day arrived, she broke my heart out. She says this is too early for her to decide, but i ask, is it too early for her to decide if she loves me. She says she does not want to commit to anything so soon, but what about all the commitments that she made by looking into my eyes. Her laughter was an indication that the loved me, but when the day came, she laughed me off. Her words were and indication that she loved me. But when the day came, she made be stand wordless. She said she always loved my company, and now she says that i was nothing more than her companion. She said that she wanted me to spend my entire life with her, but now that she is gone, where does my life remain. Yet, there is no mistake on her part, except that she turned me down. She said that i was her priced posession, but it is today that i find possessions are traded for better things. She now says that she has ambitions to chase, but what about those dreams she saw with me, that turned to these ambitions. She said that i was the only one so close to her, so she closed her heart to me. Well, he descision was right. It was i who did not understand that she loved me, for the sake that i was not hers. Now when i am hers, she no longer loves me.
Still i stand, waiting for her to return, for i know that if she is mine she shall return, and if she does not, she never was mine. Her memories shall live in my heart for ever and ever, for she is special to me. She is my priced possession. With every laugh, i convey my love to her. My words mean that i loev her. I have already committed to her, she IS my ambition. She is in my past, but i know she'll be my future one day. Her memories shall live in my heart, for ever and ever and ever..............
Always yours ....
BlahBlah ;-(

Phew, that was a whole lot man !!! Too emotional da macha. But even as i wrote this, something creeped into my mind. Why not quote it with expert comments ???

You lose Parash, you lose outright buddy.So you were to write a blog entry of someone whose broken his heart, but you could not get enough empathy. Dude, this is love, not a computer, where you blame her for the bug. Love is about selflessness, and right from the start, you seem to blame her. Hmmm...., that proves that you'll have to work to get that empathy factor Right. Though your blog tried to convey the feelings, no tru romantic would blame his love. You lose dude, you lose...
Yours,
THE ONE WHO CHALLENGED YOU !!

Hey, wait, i cannot lose, i cannot lose. Or maybe did i really lose this time. I think i did. Somethings in life do require experience. I blamed her in the blog, meaning that i was not in the shoes of the real lover. Well, accepted that i tried to fake love, and you caught it well my friend. I accept defeat honourably.
Bye

Mission IRRITATION

2006-02-23T11:06:00.001+05:30

: Hey Parash,
You will never improve da. Please grow up. Apppppa , what a build up. Tell a girl that someone is better than her, and u'll see her go green. Well Parash, that style of yours is just awsome da. So, you were able to irritate to girls. (actually i have maild to the third one, waiting for reaction to put it on the blog)
This is life man, full of fun, fun that does not hurt anyone. Hmm..... craeful Parash, once they catch you together, u'll not escape !!! Watch out and then have fun da !!!!

axemclion (12/23/2005 3:59:30 PM): what ??
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:01:13 PM): hey, wanna see the pics of my GF ??
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:01:27 PM): yep
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:01:27 PM): btw, who s ur GF?
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:01:40 PM): hey,as if u don't know, heh
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:01:53 PM): nope
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:02:00 PM): but she dint say "yes"
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:02:36 PM): and those pics look really gerat
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:02:49 PM): i have never seen her soooooo beautiful
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:03:58 PM): really?
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:04:05 PM): i have u id, chill please, was just joking, pease don't spoil my romantic mood
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:04:12 PM): send it idiot
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:04:22 PM): wait, attaching them, size is big
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:04:29 PM): for the sake of clarity
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:04:37 PM): mm
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:04:45 PM): she had gone to a wedding, it was then the pics were clicked
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:04:59 PM): oh
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:05:05 PM): thats not her wedding rite?
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:05:09 PM): hello
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:05:11 PM):
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:05:21 PM): please don't play with my sentiments
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:05:29 PM):
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:05:29 PM): am happy that i spoiled ur mood
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:05:29 PM): hello
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:05:35 PM): did she say yes?
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:05:37 PM): i feel bad, please she is my GF, and i am very serious about her
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:05:53 PM): did she say what ?????
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:06:18 PM): but u were in waitin list
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:06:27 PM): waiting list, hey no
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:06:35 PM): i knew she was always in love with me
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:06:43 PM): wen she did she decide abt it
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:06:55 PM): only with u??
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:07:20 PM): IDIOT, please don't play
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:07:35 PM): u sick thing don't know the meaning of love, so don't humiliate it
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:07:54 PM): Hey am seriuos
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:07:54 PM): am not playing
axemclon (12/23/2005 4:08:22 PM): she loves me from the depth's of her heart,it hurts me if u say this
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:08:40 PM): .... SHE WILL GET FURIOUS
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:09:00 PM): there s no need for me to know abt that nonsense(Love)
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:09:24 PM): for u it is nonsense
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:09:33 PM): but u don't realise its importance
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:09:36 PM): i have sent the pics
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:09:41 PM): she is the one in the saree
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:11:23 PM): see them and then comment on my selection
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:12:21 PM): u tehre ??
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:12:30 PM): yep
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:12:35 PM): wait i ll c that mail
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:12:54 PM): see fast, i can't wait to see you jelous -- she is soooooooooooooooo pretty !!!
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:15:03 PM):
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:15:06 PM): what ??
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:15:13 PM): is she not GREAT ?
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:15:17 PM): is she not beautiful ??
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:15:25 PM): don insult her ok?
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:15:25 PM): she s
axemclon (12/23/2005 4:15:43 PM): then what ??
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:15:53 PM): but u r not
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:15:59 PM): i am not what ??
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:16:09 PM): build up a paathe nenachen
divya_ (12/23/2005 4:16:15 PM): u r not that grt to ve her as ur GF
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:16:26 PM): hey, she proposed to me u know !!

axemclion (12/23/2005 4:06:18 PM): u there ??
sriramy (12/23/2005 4:06:44 PM): hi
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:06:55 PM): hi, ey, just wanted something with u
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:07:03 PM): my GF just sent me her pics
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:07:08 PM): she looks gorgeous u know
sriramy (12/23/2005 4:07:31 PM): Who is that
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:07:42 PM): hold on, you guess is right
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:07:47 PM): she is looking gorgeous
sriramy (12/23/2005 4:08:37 PM): hey, whom r u talking abt?
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:08:46 PM): as if u don't know
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:08:52 PM): k, fine, i am sending her pics
sriramy (12/23/2005 4:09:11 PM): ok.. ok..
sriramy (12/23/2005 4:09:50 PM): to which id are u sending it?
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:09:55 PM): i have sent the pics. She is the one in the saree there
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:10:03 PM): to ur official mail id of course
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:11:08 PM): see them, and tell me abt my selection
sriramy (12/23/2005 4:11:49 PM): wait.. did not get the mail..
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:11:55 PM): sending...
sriramy (12/23/2005 4:13:14 PM): hey, did u send it correctly?
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:13:19 PM): yes, why ??
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:13:50 PM): she looks great, specially in saree.
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:13:56 PM): hmmmm
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:13:58 PM):
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:14:06 PM):
sriramy (12/23/2005 4:14:40 PM): ada pavi...........
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:14:43 PM): what ?
sriramy (12/23/2005 4:15:25 PM): cha.. aiswarya is ur GF? nenapu than
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:15:35 PM):
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:15:38 PM):
sriramy (12/23/2005 4:16:09 PM): don't laugh..
sriramy (12/23/2005 4:16:15 PM): she is older than u
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:16:47 PM): so what, she is just my Girl Friend. not yet my wife
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:16:52 PM): for wife, i have someone better
sriramy (12/23/2005 4:17:15 PM): who?
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:17:23 PM): i'll tell u when time comes
axemclion (12/23/2005 4:17:29 PM): so please don't ask !!!
sriramy (12/23/2005 4:18:00 PM): the thing is you don't know the answer now..

Career Carrier

2006-02-23T11:06:00.000+05:30

: Hey Parash, i am back, after a long long break, during which i did some useful work. The title of this blog is toooooo philosophical, but i think i am going to have you ask some questions regarding your life, and more specifically, your carreer. Dude, so you are into Trilogy, fine. But what next ?? M.B.A ?? M.S. ?? or are you gonna continue here. The words of one of your professoer still echoes in my mind - Even if it rains gold outside, stick to your company, atleast for an year !! I seriously have no idea why that was said.
Parash, till the schools, all have the same things to do - give the board exams. It is then that the options increase. So does your confusion.
I know you are tempted to follow the footsteps of your friends who left Trilogy for greener pastures like Google, Amazon, Vivio and Yahoo. Well, the pay there is far more that what you get here. But was it the pay that pulled you into Trilogy, the answer is a definate no. I also analysed your session with your project manager, to whom you confided your concerns. He tells you to be patient, but you are ever ready to make haste.
See the cases of your friends. Bharath, Vidya and Ramya- having a job that'll sustain a decent lifestyle, but after that what ? Maybe they'll get married and play the harder role of a home-maker !!! Or maybe the'y do an M.B.A and become company-makers. Do you think the'y stay on for ever in their current capacities ?? Bharath seems quite satisfied, Vidya occassionalyl grumbles, Ramya is ready to pounce on something better. Take the case of Bansuri, she's clever enough not to burden herself with work, so that she can prepare for CAT, then do an M.B.A. maybe.
Parash, what's your call on this ?? Ok, assuming that you continue here for an year, what after that. No doubt that you would have increased the companies who want to get you, but you'll not climb higher that an M.B.A would. Were you not interested in research ?? Then where the hell did this M.B.A. kick in ?? i know that you argue - MBA is the money man -- but what about your interests in research. Parash, i think what you lack is a Lakshya. All yuor goals seem to be too haphazard and short term. Given something, you try to do it the best. But what about your life as a whole ?? Where is that element of interest missing. You have always said that you do not live to die unknown. Dude, you are no ignoable knave, hey Parash, must not the world acknowledge existance of your being. Hmmm... you seem to ponder over this... so please decide on you career fast
But i promise to put the resuts here... so wacth out ...
Bye for now, leaving home after a hectic day .... bye da

SriRamya writes ...... [Vidya comments in orange]

2006-02-23T11:05:00.003+05:30

: PS : Black = Sriramya Writes
RED = Vidya Comments
Hi All..... [Hi Friends] [Hey wait, this is not a seminar I am going to take, but that "Hi Friends" thing has stuck to me.] Anyways, let me intorduce myself. I am Sriramya [and I am Vidya], unfortunately, a collegemate, and even worse, the classmate of Parashuram (Now what is that name Parash, sounds like Brush, Flush.... , i think i'll go decent with the full name). Four years with him, and now i think i can face any problem in the world [yenna di, he was not such a problem].
Ok, Not that he is such a trouble creator, but he indeed was the source of many a irritations....
I still remember the first time i met this demon during the first semester [You showed me who this fellow was in the first semester, remember that ?? ] . Looking as weird as he looks now, he had his typical style on. Unironed Shirt [Specially that Red shirt], dirty pants, those fat glasses and that haughty attitude [pavam di, not so haughty, but a little arrogant]. He was sitting with his frineds, one of whom was also the great Ramalingam a.k.a. Bharath. Then there was KN, and Kumaran [Kumaran yaru, that CS topper thane ??]. A whole group of typical eighteen-something boys. Front Benchers, this Mr. Aako (meainng enthusiastic) never spared a professor. His style of getting free periods was just fantastic [Ammam amman, nee narayave solirukai]. Must say that the boy has talent !!! But what's the use of it, in the hands of such an irritating character ?? Those wars with the girl we christened DIDI (he was the Dexter here !!) gave us enough time to relax between classes.
His attempts to "read my character" [He even tried to predict my character di, and it seemed true] , sickening. Thinks he can read minds, but Mr.Parashuram, please know that all you told were obvious (girls read minds better). He was confusing [Confusing illa di, just linked many different things to one place]as usual. His actions seem to be real weird, till i understood his intent. He always used to envy my friendship with Vidya...[hmmm, we are the thickest friends, are we not Ramya ?? ], i dont understand what jealousy was in there. He even picked up a bet challenging me that he'll make me cry once before we leave the college (he ultimatly lost the bet, but that is still a contraversy [That day during placement, when you cried, i thought he had said something, and even scolded him]). I guess that is the reason the cartoon was put up in this blog. Well, he was dangerous, specially with his group of Prashanth [!!!! :-) ], Bharath and Paul. Huh, those guys always trying to pull my leg, but I NEVER GOT ANGRY. YES, NEVER GOT ANGRY. Ok, ok accepted that on a couple of occasions, they did manage to get me fuming, but that was rare. [They even teased me, but i was not moved. Ramya, nee romba sensitive di ] Four years, and i have seen the fullest of crazy moments, college can have. These guys, sight adichifying girls [After sight, they come and etll us very proudly], commenting about them before us, so indecent (we also sight acichified boys, but secretly). Specially this Bharath and Parashuram. See a good-looking girls and they are done. We were the only way they get their intros [I have always refused to this]. Hmmm.. fine, but toooo much i say. I still know that all that was fun, none of those idiots were serious. During those exams, Parashuram forcing me to cheat, ok that he does he, but why the hell does he want to pull me in the crap. I still am proud that I was one of the three who did not copy till the end of college (the other two were Vidya [thanks Ramya] and sincere Ramalingam).
I still desparatly remember those days when Parashuram and Prashanth tried to tease me by switching on the fan and telling me to hold on tight so that i don't fly away [Ramya, forgot to mention my role in it. Was it not I who was holding you tightly di ?? ]. That basket ball trick [he was the one who named me the Teacher. I only did my duty ! ! Even i did not like to take the seminars]was also well recieved. One thing that i must credit Parashuram with is that legacy of teasing boys with Girls he started [Me with Prashanth, please Parashuram, that was crazy]. That nearly ruined the unity of the class. So many "heartbreaks" and three letter poems [the poems were really good. Good Tamil ikkikiyam] because of that... but that was the reason that tied the class together. Something i pitied in the groups was that Parashuram, Prashanth and Paul managed to get Bharath's head rolling [paavam Bharath] on all occassions, opor Bharath, always INNOCENT (!!!!) [who Innocent, Bharath, hmm., he has borrowed quite lots of money from me and never bothered to return] as usual.
During the last semester, i noticed how caring Parashuram can get. Or rather, how thoughtful he could get. I know this junior of mine (you know who) [I still don't like her], who never used to study. She had the potential but never bothered to study, and was heard to be roaming with guys. Parash sort of take pains to make her study, and helped her get over this bad attitude of hers. Well, he is sensible. Wait, i will not appretiate him, coz if i do, he'll start ...... "Yes, Yes, you know for a smart and intelligent boy like me..[poodum Parashuram poodum. Ithallam over]". Huh.. Smart....Intellingent. Over nenapu.
ANd why the hell does he tease me with sunderas...... [Ramya is feeling shy !!] did he not get any other person !!! Those days during placement, when Vidya got into Wipro and i did not, and so she cried [atham friendship di], these guys were real helpful [yes, they help me get the resume print outs, and gave me moral support]. On the day of my CTS interview, when Bharath and Parashuram were at Palani and came right away just coz i called them [Ramya, mention my name also, i was always near you, not like them].. that is called a group man.
I read that Neha blog [I also, called up Parashuram and told him this was over too much] of his and realised that he is the one who has written it. Well Parashuram, please give me a break. Talking too highly of himself is not a great idea[Yes, not a good idea]. But, then if you don't, then you are not Parashuram. For all the fun, i think continue it all. This boy is very ambitious. He even forced me [forced even me, but i am happy with Wipro, though mow, the work is not that interesting. Maybe i must have listened to him. Same with you di] to join him at Trilogy. He forced the entire group, but he did not know that all of us have different ambitions. His spirit of reaching out is amazing, always ready to take up problems[he himself is the problem many times]. Something that still inspires me is that despite the fact he never thinks he is lesser than anybody, if not better. My mind still recalls the times he says that all of us aer equal - the IITans, TCEians, he, and me. Well, that is true to an extent, [are you sure ramya, can we equal the IITans ?? ] accepted.
Another thing that i have common with Parashuram is that both of us did not believe in autographs, when the whole class was busy [i got autographs form everyone, both on the last-day-Shirts and my book] with it. But i finally relented and got all their autographs. Why the hell could he not write those autographs in an understandable manner. Always a crypt, and i was always the first one to break it!!
I must thank Parashuram for helping us with the final year project. Well, this boy is clever. The only thing i fearded were his questions when i'd present the project. This fellow helped us with his project, but was sooo posessive about his work that he put the same name on his project tooo (Vidya [that actually cost him Rs. 30. I saw it after it was all printed. thank me for this Parashuram] was the one who told him, otherwise he would never have noticed)
Those days at college, with the group, that was fun. Lucky that i got a great friend like ... like Vidya [you are also a good friend di], and people like Parashuram, Prashanth, Paul, i treasure those days. Hey guys, those were great days, something i'll never forget. The scenes of the last day at colege is still painetd in my mind. That day was the time when the association of four years with the class come to the fore front. That circle all of us were sitting, that showed the bond [i was really senti that day. Did not want to leave the college]we all shared. Those were the days , those were the days.
I tried to put in four years into a few hundred words [a few words from me], i know it is not possible. The emotions that the four years took are still fresh. Parash, Bharath, Prashanth, Paul and of course Vidya, i'll always be your good friend. [Same here]
Bye
S. SriRamya [and Vidya]

Recomposing the way I compose....

2006-02-23T11:05:00.002+05:30

: Hey Parash, i have been oflate recieving complaints about the numerous spell error and grammar blunders in my blog. I guess that is because i never revisit what i have written before publishing. And that is the way to go i think. By this, the thoughts out of my mind come out unhallowed by the constraints of realities. Mind is imperfect, so may those errors thrive in my blog .....

Shivering with Fun .... (also wanted to name this blog - mukta ki mukti !!!!!)

2006-02-23T11:05:00.001+05:30

: Hi guys, I am happy to be back, This Neha thig seems to be polluting Parash's blog. So, here i am back, to write what you want to read (hopefully).
Let me describe the scene first ::

Location ....... : Motta Madi (meaning terrace), Bangalore
Date .............: Saturday (Dumbo, that is day, not date !!!)
Time ............: 1:23 am (dead of the night)
Occassion.......: weekend !!! Go have fun

A bunch of guys braving the freezing cold sit around on a mat. The environment if errie and silent. One person speaks something in whispers, and suddenly ....
suddenly, the group bursts out laughting.
Again Parash, you were successful in rolling someone's head. Someone proved to be a source of the group's laughter. Your gruop is crazy Parash. But all those sessions you stretch out with Bharath and friends provide you enough relaxation to take the next week, head on...

This Saturday, Paul was also here, that was the occasssion. The only missing thing was Prashanth. That would have completed the group. But Parash, was the group not complete. You caught Prashanth on phone anyways, and that too for a straight 47 minutes 32 seconds.
Boy Boy Boy, there came back those days of the college. That fun and issueless blabber !!!! In that chilling cold, laughing with that shiver clearly visible !!! Parash, those weekends are something you treasure and so vital in this hectic life of yours, that i wanted to put it up in your blog.

And about the proceedings of this week ??? Well dude, that is where the second title of this blog comes to play. Paul and his training was the subject of discussion. As usual, Paul did his training in style, the same low pants, T-shirt only casual approach thing. This time, he also got a couple of girl friends. There goes the cat out of the bag. All that followed was the direct outcome of Paul's approach and the group's attitude.
He says people wanted to meet him right from the first day, but i suspect he was exaggarating a little tooo much here, specially when wide-eyed Bharath was listening to all this with his mouth wide open. Then he showed some photos (censored of course). Of the guys of his batch. Of the gals of his batch.; and the fun he had with all of them (fun with both the boys and the girls). Then she showed us mukta. Some random gal from i suppose delhi, the location does not matter anyway.
A girl mentioned and there, both Parash and Bharath got excited. Hey Parash, please grow up, and stop staring when a gal is mentioned !!! <;-)
Well, the details of the story, i really don't know, and i leave it for some one special, who had been a witness of all these exploits pen them down, in her wonderful english (ok ok, enough of flattery). Hope she exposes all the "maiden" ventures of Paul !!
As for you Parash, go home and sleep. You have a real aggressive week ahead. Second release up your sleeves, go ahead, go a good job da.

Bye

Time no BAR :: Age no BAR :: AND now - Money no BAR

2006-02-23T11:04:00.001+05:30

: This is a sign that must be put up in Bangalore. So many many pubs and Bars here. Well Parash, the drunkards do have a great time here. Specially those computer guys who sit all day staring at patterns generated by electrons (or Crystal Displays) and relax all night staring at that wonderfull bottle of wine.
So you did manage to make it to the pub, first time not sponsored by the company, but favoured by the oddest gentleman to do it. Well, you did accompany Bharath to the pub. I know that you had grown sick at all the bar nights by the company, and i felt it was real unlikely for yuo to accompany them to the bar. The occassion now, Sunder and Shenbagaraj are here in Bangalore. So ...... ??
So, that calls for a celebration, and Bharath is ready to treat them. I sometimes wonder the reason of Bharath spending so much all of a sudden. Is is because he's started earning ?? Maybe, but spending on Bars specially when you don't drink is peculiar. Money no Bar, Huh. After losing somewhere around Rs. 1250, and a little of his sense, you people finally settled at a table (yeah, after fighting over being give chairs without cushions on them !!). And the order, the craziest ever - 2 pitchers for 2 drunkards, the third one was forced to join in. You ordered a Fruit Punch (experience here played a vital role) and Bharath ordered a Jack Daniel !!! Well, he doesn't drink, and yesterday, he was forced to drink. You did a prudent job helping the group fill its waseful tummy with good starters, experience again, huh. Parash, one thing you have learnt out of those bar nights that the company takes, to those extra costly is how to stay in the bar and order the right things so as not to get drunk !!!
One thing worth mentioning (and the purpose of this very blog) is Bharath's prudence. He drank that whole shit of coffee, that had Jack Daniel, thought he did not like it. Reason, he had paid Rs. 180 for that thing. Now that is real strange. Money no Bar ?? Please reconsider.
Still this fella is not gonna change. He got the group hot drinks on the way home, got them totally drunk. Parash, something i am seriously wondering about is this attitude of his. I don't understand the pleasure in letting other down a full bottle of Old Monk, acquired through your money !!!
Anyway Parash, that is history now, and you can always say ......
....and i had this random friend of mine who never drank himself, but got other drunk with his money.....

Hey Bharath, dude, you really are strange. There is more to you than my eyes have infact seen (To complete the context, my eyes saw your hand over a girls shoulder !!!) . Bharath, you are a gentleman da..., but please let other be as honourable as you are....

Anyways Parash, that was a good experience for you, with your shirt stinking with cigratte smoke, you were into a pub once more, and you got out without drinking once more. Congrats da. ha ha ha
Bye da, i am leaving for home hoping that there is some good movie waiting for me there. Bye da.

Signing off...

To Bug or not to bug.....

2006-02-23T11:03:00.001+05:30

: Hi Parash, you seemed a little too busy yesterday. Well, it was all that deployment and release of the software. Fine that your first Laszlo app looks in good shape. I realise that quite a lot of hardwork has indeed gone into it, and it could have been structured better, if you had followed the process. Sudhakar and Debo were really stressed out at the end of it !! Well, that DDD party at the end signified the end of the release process, but that late night bug discovey was upsetting. Parash, i still know there are some some bugs in your code, hiding at places you never will dream of. As pradeep say, its you learning process, to hunt them down well. I know you are enjoying hunting those pesky creatures. There are moer to come, so happy hunting.

So many bugs, at places where we expect them the least. All of them, so small, yet so much a security problem !!

And the college results were out, and for the first time in the last four years, you were not affected by it. Ramanathan, your junior seems to have ultimately taken that studious step. He's also taken a couple of step, on of them leads to the Da Vinci Code. That book is something i think was written for the sole purpose of fame !! Research was good, but too much contraversy catapulted it to fame. Now this ramanathan is making it his bible, and spelling out stange things like divine feminine and stuff. THe timing you caught him was the best. He was online with rekah was he not ? Well, that "Bhaiya-Behna" talk of theirs was real real filmantic man. Anyways, Charan did not real profit out of it. Parash, you must give her a good shot, and make her realise the ATVANTAGES of studying well ;-) !!!

Anyways, i see that you are really bugged by these bugs, and have to hunt for and fix many more. So happy hunting da. Bye

Love's labor lost.......

2006-02-23T11:03:00.000+05:30

: Hi Parash, great title ?? Trying to create a hype or what ?? Think this title can get people to your blog ?? Dont do it. This blog has many stories that happened around you, many of which you were a part. SO please dont' publicise it. One good thing about this blog is that for the affecetd, they know the story is true, but for others, it may be just another story. Well, thats the advantage of looking at yourself for a third person's perspective. You dont get hurt at the comments at all.
So today's story is of a girl and a boy, and a boy. Nothing really interesting in all that happend between them (nothing between the boys -mind it !! ). Looked like the love triangle. But in this case, the characters of the sotry are too decent to fight. Here both the heros like the heroine, and the heroine is not able to decide whom she like. The first hero proposes, the heroine tells him to get her mom's permission. And that line of the story is put on a hold. Then the heroine meets the second hero, and talks about the first hero. Something gets into the second hero's mind (Parash, what got into his mind, i was not able to find out yet) and he also proposes to her. Here, the heroine tells him to wait for a week (why no redirection to mom ??). So the story continues......
THe poor heroine is now in a fix, unable to discover her own feelings. In this gap, the first hero tells her to select the second, the second tells her to select the first (toooo bad of the heros). Well, the heroine may feel both don't want her (serves the heroine right !!!).
But the truth is that both the heros sincerely like the girl and are interested in her well being. All they want is that the girl is happy, whereever she is !! Its the girl who isn't able to understand their fellings. So......., so what, thats the end of the story.
Ok Ok Parash,i know the story is too silly, and the girl is as childish as the guys, but the story is not over it. I think we must trace it all the way to its climax. There is a good probability that the girls gets one of the guys. Or even get hold of her ex-boyfriend. Or maybe even a new character enters the scene. An ideal story line for a TV soap. Long and boring. There ain't anything romantic in this either. The first lover seemed to be a little romantic, proposes with flowers and stuff, but the second does it with a kiss !! Ow Ow, how romantic..... sic.... please do something better. I am seriously bored of there sterero type love scenes. I know you sometimes feel the gut of entering the scene and preaching the boys something !!!
Hmmmm..., so the girl called you up just now ..... Good timing..... well, nothing important was revealed. I thought the girl seeked your advise, but you have confused her ?? Idiot, please be clear atleat sometime. I know this matter is too big for yuo to handle. But only a couple of line before, there seemed to be someone who was going to go to the boys to preach them love?? Poda, go look at your face in the mirror, think you are a big romantic. Po..da... Do you know anything execpt computers and philosophy ?? Ok, drop it, if i start advising you to be more like others, you'll gimme a big leture. I am not in for it. Have a lotta work to do. So please, you sit here while i work, for which i am paid
Bye and please be human .... giggle ...giggle.
Ok, bye da.

Exercising my right.......

2006-02-23T11:02:00.002+05:30

: Hi Parash, good evening. Feeling tired ??? Well, you must, you had a good amount of exercise, and then, also a heavy, what i dont think you must call dinner. I actually wanted to talk to you about you future, but i guess you are too tired to discuss it right now. Well, i just wanna slog around, and your cab leaves at ten. So go on....

Went to GYm after a long time.

Hey, Shriram (you old school mate) is online. See, he's gone to the US, and hope he is enjoying there. Says he's gonna return to India for work. Well, and you wanna go to the US ?? Now, that you personal preference and i dont wanna interfere.
Did you call up the cute devil ?? And tell her to consider the options you had thought up of ?? Well, i think you must do it fast. A topic of such scientific importance must not be dealt with, so carelessly. You put the options before her, and she'll decide prudently. And that saves you a lot of work. Outsourcing yur brain is good man, you just have to sit and realx, as she figures out all details.... the boring part of the work !! Hope she does not read this, she's gonna flame yuo.'

Hey, this feature here is cool da. Parash, i thought you lost the blog when you closed the browser accidently. This thig liek autosave is a real great idea. I was actually planning not to write, but well autosave saved you automatically.
But that browser closing put the interest out, so i am leaving you anyways.
Bye da, and take care.
good night

Exploding fun !!!

2006-02-23T11:02:00.001+05:30

Hi Parash, good evening. You gave out this blog id to the VIP and the VIP says it uncomprehendable ?? Bad. Dont you know to write readable blogs ?? Or atleast blogs that are interesting and readable ?? Ok, no more questions about it. I know its not for the common multitude. But the VIP ... common multitute ...., forget it.
Last night, Bharath's party rocked !! There was all the glamour you needed. Lots of laughter and very less food. Bharath came down to tease you, but it went the other way. He got teased, as usual !! Divya was her usual self, though i saw her a little uncomfortable with the presence of an INTRUDER !! And then there was the usual senthil with his "switch off" statements.
Dude, you did for once in your lifetime make Bharath wait for you !! Congrats for that. I also know the reason you were late. So many phone calls, from so many importatn people. The self proclaimed princess aka devil did not let you go. Good that you escaped da, good that you did irritate her with the stories of you fun. Poor thing, she could not come out to see the fun. Good for you i guess !!
Post dinner, that romantic negotiations, awesome. How real romantic it looked. Two people negotiating its likes and dislikes. Hmmm... thats life, and parash, you must learn from it. One thing thats still botherin' me is that the VIP said that my blog ain't readable. Parash, is you blog that complex ?? I dont think so. Its as simple as you talking to me. Thats the reason its called u-n-i-verse ; your and my verse. Now thats seriously poetic, that VIP has no sense of poetry. So i appeal to you to demote the VIP from the status of the VIP. Lets call the VIP -- a.. a... a.. somehting like just another person. Ok, so here it is . Lets call the VIP - cute devil. Now is that name not real cuddly, to match the persona of the VIP. Good, parash, you are creative da, keep it up da macha!!
Ok ok, i smell that irritation in you mind, drop it. Lets get to something more serious now. The code cycle is nearly done and the entire software your team developed loks good. Well, the first attempt with the technology called Laszlo failed, feels good to recover. I think you have guaged the potential of the technology well enough.
Will get back to you after a meeting i have now. TO review the software. Gotta talk to you about something more important. Something about your future. So please stay here, dont run away fearing advises. I wont do any of that crap.
Bye da, and continue working.