The Butterfly Effect ...

Coincidences, coincidences ...
I watch the movie barely last week, i am thunder-struck by the concept, the beauty of the ending, and think of reading up more on the chaos theory.

Turns out, i don't need to. Get a practical first hand, within days.

So, if memory serves me right, how do they put it -

"It has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world."

Well, transliterate that into -

"Snowfall in Overland Park can cause you to lose your baggages in New Delhi ..."

So obviously, i learn about it the hard way.
A flight from Kansas City that was supposed to depart at 3pm, gets off the ground at 5:30pm; when salt has finally melted some of the heavy snow on the runway. The flight has a fated passenger to Newark. No points for guessing who. The passenger is turning and twisting in his little seat thinking of the next flight he is sure to miss. The accursed flight touches down at Newark an hour after the connection as left. After running 40 gate terminals around the airport (i land at gate 67, and takeoff at 103), i reach half panting, with almost zero hope, to see a plane to Peurto Rico departing instead of the one to New Delhi.

Now comes the hard part - locating someone who can help me solve this muck.
I ultimately trudge back down to don't know where; trying to locate a help desk. Surprising as it may seem, nobody on the airport knows what a help desk is !! I finally manage to see a long line at one terminal. Curiosity saved the cat this time. I happen to identify it as a 'Service Center' for Continental airlines. After standing in queue for about an hour amidst other helpless beings as myself, i realized i wasn't the only one hit by delayed flights. Pain reduced, you ask? Probably yes. Self sadistic pleasure i would call it.

Ultimately, i managed to get to the "agent" at the desk, identified the problem and asked for a solution - which came in the form of a quick tour of Amsterdam. I was to be re-routed to Delhi via a stop-over at the Schipol. Not again, i thought. If i missed my connection again, i would be stranded in the drug and sex capital of the world. Not a bad place to be though, especially when as the air-hostess put it - you don't require a visa in the Netherlands, only a smile.

Dreams, dreams. Reality came crashing down when i was instructed to take a sky train, find my shuttle, and retire to the nearest hotel for a one night 'complimentary' stay with a couple of meal vouchers, which would pass off as loose change at those hotel rates. Barely a few hours of putting up, and you leave again at 12 noon check out time. I wasn't in a mood to hang around at $100 a day. So back to the airport, where after the usual strip search at immigrations, i put my butt off to sleep on the lounge. Apprehensive, with no clue as to where my luggage was currently (despite the assurances from the helpdesk that it would be re-routed the same as me), and no idea of the departing gate, it seemed like a flight in itself, stuck in a seat for 7 hours, hearing every announcement, no where to go.

Well, cut to the chase, i came, i saw, and i went away. Schipol airport was cool in the festive season. Huge Christmas trees, lighting, and the mistletoe. Two eight hour flights and a stopover later, i found myself without my baggages at New Delhi and in love with the KLM flight attendant. As obvious, all she did was smile flirtatiously, take her baggages and leave - leaving me at the conveyor belt, head swooning, both for her and looking at the suitcases go round.

After spending Christmas night at the airport, trying to locate my bags, nothing came of it, and i had to file in a complaint. Its been over 7 days since i last saw my bags at Kansas. I havn't heard from the authorities at the airport, or the CO/KLM flight group. Pleaded with the IGI help center but to no avail. They find themselves as helpless trying to trace my bags.
So after giving up hope that i would ever see my precious wardrobe again, with all the new business suits, shoes, watch and stuff (includes the chocolates i was pestered for), i had decided to go ahead and buy myself atleast a new razor before anything else.

But surprisingly, some other butterfly must have fluttered its wings in Tokyo, because a windfall occurred this evening. As i was midway through this blog post, i get a phone call, immediately recognizing the KLM office number. I answer with a bated breath, and hear the good news. No, my cat is not pregnant. But something will get delivered. My dear baggages arrived at my door step late night - everything sealed and perfectly intact. I couldn't have done a better job myself.

So with all tension dispersed, i finally decided to gorge on the chocolates myself, rather than take them to the place where they were intended to go. As it is, most were melting. Too tempting to resist. My sister dug in as well. I feel good now.

That's one lesson learnt. Better let the official laptop get lost in transit than your personal luggage. Atleast then the office will be supportive in trying to locate it ...

Tabula Rasa

No, i am not referring to a computer game or that disc in town which goes by the same name ...

I fall back to the original Latin - the Unscribed Tabulet.

Tabula Rasa, the clean slate, the origin of the human mind.
What shapes it into what it is? The blank parchment that we are all born with. Is it "Nature" or is it "Nurture" that metamorphosises us into who we are, into what we become.

What the mind thinks must be in it; in the same sense as letters are on a tablet which bears no actual writing -- Aristotle, On the Soul

What is knowledge, if nothing but the truth that we are inclined to believe.
I think now behind this solitude that keeps me behind glass walls, who am i? What is my purpose?

I don't wish to go into this Platonic/Freudean debate.
I simly wonder sometimes, how nice it could be to blank this slate clean of things unwanted, memories undesired, pains conflicting. Reach into the shadowed depths of my heart, my mind, and pluck out those sorrows. Re-write the mind with thoughts cherished.

Speak the truth, and the truth shall set you free. Fear naught but the fear itself.
Do these be but speeches brave? Or are they the very foundations that rest the mind at ease.

The reaction of senses to the external world of objects imprints our minds. That is what imbalances the Tabula Rasa.
Oh! How i wish, how i wish i could sweep the mind of all the dirt that clogs it, and refreshen it - vibrant, joyous, carefree. To relive the childhood, the moments of nascency.

My thoughts no more do me justice. I no longer trust if i hold true to myself, let alone to those i love. I make a prayer to my own heart.

Give me that languid, peaceful space,
where falter not my dreams may;
winds of conceit harden thy brows on face,
let me be pure as i was born, to thee i say.

Bonded by chains, break through them, set upon myself the task, I do, to realign the Tabula Rasa ...

Snow is beautiful ...

Hmmm ...
I have been cursing snow for ever now - right from the time i slipped and fell down a snow cliff in manali, (almost) breaking my nose; to being stuck inside my hotel room for 2 consecutive weeks like a rat in a cage.

But today i finally braved the 15F (-10C) temperature and marched out to explore the town on foot. It had snowed all night yesterday and today morning, but the sun had been up for a couple of hours, giving me hope enough to go and "chill out".

So at 2pm on a freezy winter day i leave house for my first visit around Overland Park. I had decided to go to this lake near my place, which from a distance kind of looked like this perfect spot - the old country side, a large lake, with snow all around, and a frosted bridge across it. The scene was breath-taking. Dry leaves, green winter grass, ice cold water, and snow all around.



No point capturing those moments on a camera. Its only something that you can see yourself and appreciate. Probably try and capture them on paper - but i am not too great at doing that either.

Well, feeling hungry, i moved on to a random route just walking where the road led me - kind of realized that i had taked the path to the town plaza - the surroundings were just so pure - snow all around, cars skidding down the highway, ice on the sidewalk, huge countryside manors with kids sleighing down the snow slopes, standing so far apart you could fit 10 elephants sidelong, the sub zero wind blasting me in the face, ears and fingertips numb, no other pedestrian dumb enough to be out but me, and small lakes every 5 streets frozen with sleet.

Aah, the beauty of it all ...

My glasses had frozen so hard up that i had to look at the menu without them. No wonder to my embarrasment, i ended up giving a 20$ note instead of a 50$, and then asking for 30$ more on the change. A hot cappuccino on the way back alongwith my lunch was just the perfect way to beat the cold. Though it was a different matter that my fingers were now really about to breakoff in this chill carrying the lunch packet in one hand and the cofee in the other. My watch stopped at 3:05pm. It just couldnt take the chill i guess. It however returned to normal functionality when i came back to my warm abode after 1.5 hours of a gruelling hike. But the most amazing part was the fact that my tears froze. They literaly froze to ice and stuck on my face. It was a wow moment.

To round off the perfect day, even though i skid a couple of times, i did not fall. Apprehensive of the new roads, i never lost my way. And most importantly, though i hated the "icky-yellow-brown" snow before, i believe i will look upon in it in a different light from now on. Wish i could have stayed longer till christmas and enjoyed it in the snow ...

Welcome to the 'Dork' Side ...

So finally adjusting to Overland Park, Kansas.

Its been a gruelling journey and a chilly weather so far. An ice storm this last weekend and all plans of touring the city 'washed away', quite literally. And today, a blast from the past - i mean another of those winter winds that freeze you like an icicle. I forgot to wear my jacket while on the way to the cafeteria (which is about a 3min walk from my office). Only God knows how i made it there alive. Felt like those sci-fi movie characters when they throw liquid nitrogen on you.

So what do i find different over the roughly 10 days that i have spent here?
Probably not much.

Contrary to expectations, OP seems quite populated. There are definitely people here, and they travel in cars, which get stuck in traffic jams. So quite a normal little town. Haven't seen any farm animals though yet, except on the dining menu, ofcourse.

From my airhostess to the lady next to me in the cab queue - Kansas city has greeted me with its best. You know what they say best about orchids and camellia; they bloom the best in winter.
An example of my masquerade was me missing my cab at the airport, chit chatting away next to this gorgeous female i talk about. We were so engrossed in discussions, i refused to notice the cab i had called. Had to order another one.

So when my friends asked me if going by the sacred American customs i asked for the girl's number - i quipped - she lives in Kansas City, Missouri and i in Kansas City, Kansas - how am i to bridge the state gap to ask her out, especially without a conveyance.

Oh well, did i mention though that OP has a radius of 20 min from its town plaza to the border, which effectively means zilch and which means its all walkable. Again, especially given that it has a population of about 150K only and the odds of finding any working person withing a 5min walking radius is 1 of 10 (since 10% of the population of Kansas City works in Sprint Nextel Corp, which is just opposite my place, and needless to mention so did the brunette in question). Actually make it 1 in 8 - i think 2.5% of the population works in the YRC and Applebee HQs.

So come to think about it. I did have the chance to ask out a great looking (and for once smart, given her stunning looks) single girl, and i didnt. You see, whatever place it be, people are all the same. And so am I.

As Skywalker Senior would put it - Welcome once again to the 'Dork' Side ...

Winter begins on the 3rd sunday of novemeber ...

The whole year round i never feel cold, running around the house without even a fulls-sleeves shirt or sweater, let alone woolens. But come the 3rd sunday of Novemeber and there's always a winter chill, making you want to run to the water closet 3 times in the span of 3 hours ...

Yup, an annual ritual for many, the CAT exam not only brings depair for a quarter million students (-1500 ofcourse), but for me its always the case of no clothes are warm enough on this day. You hit the roads at 9 in the morning and all you can think is brrrr - couldn't it have started after noon, warm and sunny.

You enter the examination hall and all you can think is where the hell is the washroom. Queen's "Under Pressure" is buzzing through your systems. You start writing the paper and all you think is Bono crooning "Hold On" (AKA damn - when will this end)

Head's spinning, eyes watering, stomach churning - it is definitely not a good feeling to undergo. Add to that the ever tormentous time. Its always short for a question, always long for the agony. Now ok, this is no excuse to give if i genuinely screw my paper, but yeah, it is a decent excuse anyway !!

And for the first time in months, i slept with my fan switched off ...

A Game Well Played

My organization's flavor of the month happens to be a certain ongoing T.T. tournament, that has generated enormous enthusiasm amongst both the players and the crowd alike.

As last year's undefeated semi-finalist (sounds odd - but the tourni got scraped since i went onsite), and co-winner of the 'sledger of the tournament', an award i had shared with my team-mate Aman, my team was again the dark horse this time around. Initially seeded in the top rankers, i pursued a course of Aggresive Negotitations (as Anakin Skywalker would term it) with Iyer sir, the tourni organizer, and got myself ranked lower. I mean, seriously, given the quality of players we have this time around, it was an insult to them to put me up there in their league.

Paired in the draw with Varun as my strike partner, and given a 1st round bye, we were confident of atleast winning our first game against Raunak/Amrita. But i went off on a leave for about 10 days, and the organizers un0kindly decided to put me out and continue the tournament. As fate couldn't see me so harshly treated so early (there was humiliation waiting for me ahead), another team also had a member lose out and so when i returned, i found myself paired up with Chirag.

Now the guy can play well, on his day, and given he does not tense up under pressure. Some critics found our team combo to be too strong and argued against such a formation. Most had written off Amrita and Raunak. They expected us to blaze through past them with 2 under-10 wins. On match day however, it seemed an upset was on the cards. Not only did Raunak/Amrita fight well, they pulled the crowd behind them. Every point they rallied and won was cheered voraciously. Needless to say Iyer was totally on their side, without least bit bothering to realize he was the refree. Ishan who was also assisting with the score-keeping and line calls, now faces a tough time ahead when i prepare his project review.

The first set went down to the wire. In order to make the game interesting, Chirag and I allowed some loose shots to keep the excitement. But it proved a little too lax. With Raunak/Amrita already winning a lot of points, they soon raced to a 8-2 lead, and kept us under pressure. Raunak was smashing away all of Chirag's returns and Amrita was managing to keep all her shots on the table. Iyer declared we would forfeit the match if our opponents reached double figures, over and above wanting to provide them a 5 point handicap advantage. We almost lost the first set when the score read 20-15 to them. With a single point away, i got my serves right and pulled all 5 back, to setup a deuce. From there on we regained our touch a bit (both in sledging and TT) and killed the first set.

With our nerves quite jittery and Chirag perceivably tense at the near escape, we played a bit better in the 2nd set, and won it with relative ease. Grabbed a 7-0 lead and thought officially it was Jig'saw' (remember - Game Over). But Iyer as usual, decided to give us his respect instead of the points and play continued. 21-14 i think it was, and that too when we were 18-7 up. Obviously, we were both out of form - i, perennially always am, but i didn't expect Chirag to perform under par, given my reliability of smashing the opponent or the water cooler.

With a tough first match behind us, the crowd had realized that we probably were not the team who could go on ahead given this showing. In the second round where we were facing probably the toughest team of Murarka/Kunja, we were expected to lose easily, given that they had dispatched of 2 very strong teams - Ishan/Major and Dilip in the previous round (Ninja not accounted for - actually it was Ninja's tough luck that he had a player as good as Dilip, otherwise he would have won single-handedly using some SAS macro that would control his and his opponent's serve, smash and returns).

But in today's game, we had different intentions. Deciding that we would play safe, keep the ball on the table, and let the opponents make mistakes, we started off positively. With a highly charged encounter on the cards, lots of people had gathered around to cheer the other team (not us unfortunately). But i looked in super sublime form (aka totally vaporised). Didn't know what got into the two of us, but we responded to the task and played well. With nobody to egg us on, except referee Iyer sir, who as always was sledging against us, every point that we won, silenced the crowd and only the "yes" that we shouted was audible. I had this feeling of "pin drop violence".

All dusted and done, we surprisingly shocked everybody, ourselves most of all, by winning the first set very convincingly. Iyer whispered audibly enough to Lakshmi - "was he so happy at even getting promoted?". With all the shots that i managed to make and gain points on, i would walk upto Iyer and return the jocular stare, not considering the fact that some shots which i hit at the left corner, ended up at the right. But who cared. And with all the points i lost, i was the first to joke about my weaknesses.

The second set started well again. But this time it was more competitive and we were going neck to neck. With two points away from winning the set and the match, a crucial 'twist' occurred, literally. With nothing to do as simple as finishing off a weak 6 ft high return from Kunal (that just landed across the net), i stumbled on my own toe with Chirag's foot just behind me and managed to sky the shot from the top edge of the racket. And the next instant, i lost my balance and squatted down. IT was a laugh riot. A Kodak moment that needed capturing. I couldn't stop grinning at the glaring error, and the crowd just exploded. Nearly 2-3 minutes passed before i got up and we resumed playing. As Iyer quipped, i had just dropped the cup.

And the words rang out true only a moment sooner. With both Chirag and I fatigued, with all energy spent till now, and dripping sweat, I asked Iyer if the organizers would atleast provide us some towels. But equal in sarcasm, all i received were some tissue papers. Now almost out of steam, we could just hold on to get to deuce. Finally, we lost the 2nd set with Chirag also under pressure and none of his smashes hitting the board.

Set 3 was a disappointment for us and a cake walk for them. I was too tired to even serve properly and the one weapon i had effectively used failed to get us through. An incorrect line call and some wayward returns later, finally at 18-12 (or was it 19-11) down, we were able to grab a few points that inspired us back. But it was too little too late, and we succumbed.

We weren't sad to lose, we hadn't expected to win in the first place. On the whole, whatever said and done, i think what we got as a result was an excellent game of table tennis, thoroughly entertaining, full of sledging, the stronger team winning (with a reality check nonetheless) , and a respect well earned by both teams for fine skills, a high level of commitment, and the will to fight it out till the end.

This TT tourni has been as good as the last one. The teams are definitely stronger, more skilled and each plays with wanting to win, but without being serious. There is always a fun quotient around in each match. Some of the highlights of this tourni include - Ishan/Major to be the first to get eliminated, Gaurav Iyer and Lakshmi progressing ahead and getting kicked out of the tourni on the same day itself, the all serious Rahul Pandhi storming through to the semis with no effect of sledging on him, Varun and Vicki quietly and consistently playing themselves through to the other semis, Gautum/Neha duo practicing the most and not winning, dark horses Ashish Garg and Tushar also sneaking through to the semis with a bit of 'knocks' between sets, Gidra and his sliding maneuvers which he himself could not keep pace with and thus slamming into the floor flat (another Kodak moment), and yours truly sky rocketing the simplest shot of the tournament.

A special mention to the success of the game goes to the towels that were never provided, the new bats that were never used, the referees who couldn't remember the scores, the players who couldn't stop sledging, and the audience who cheered at all good and bad shots alike.

And most importantly, the constant reminders of Iyer sir to all participants asking them to smash their shots while thinking of their lead project managers (no names named) ...

While my guitar gently weeps ...

For the people who were wondering where I was this whole time - in geeky Arnie style i say - Inverse of Asta Lavista Baby - I am back ...

Judging by the pathetic level of PJs i have gone down to, I personaly realize the amount of pressure i have been under lately, and see my pent up thoughts going down a drain.

Back from a week spent in Silent Wilderness.
Thrown right back into the cacophonous populace.

I put up my blog title as my messenger status (without having written about it yet). People asked me the reason behind it - well the obvious reason was the Guitar that i saw hung on my wall with dirt accumulated over the jacket, with no one to care about it - forgotten and lost. I have kind of been feeling the for a few days now. Instances where the wrong items grabbed the wrong attention and the real good stuff - no - the great stuff - got lost in the middle of somewhere !!

Wrong priorities, unhappy endings, feeling of betrayal, lack of trust, loss of passion, overcome by apathy, grumpiness galore, rise of anarchy - the past revisited, the present distorted, the future foreseen.

Been a bit busy with GMAT and stuff - and seriously - the only 4 lettered acronym i can think of for it is PITA. With only a week and half to mug up English, "Lays American Style", it was a hard task unwinding all the basic grammar rules and re-learning English as quite a different language. It was an interesting experience, as all such first-time experiences are. But i would have appreciated it more if it were art-for-arts-sake, and not simply a grading system which judges you based on how well you can correct "me and I". Truly speaking, seriously, would it really - and i mean really - matter to any top-notch university if the sentence articulation was slightly off mark, but conveyed quite fairly the meaning it was constructed to convey.

Given the fast pace of all activities, who is going to stop and think for the next moment if "they did it" or "they had done it". Point is - the job was/had been 'done' - without mattering when in the past it was done. We are no detectives investigating a crime where time line and speech would have (could have?) mattered. Will it ever create a dent in my presentation if did not start my sentences with However, while others may, firstly, summing up !!

Alright - i'll be the first to agree i am not the greatest exponents of the language - but without pride taking a fall, i am not the worst either - written or spoken, English is something i think i can convey my ideas reasonably well in. Fundamentalists might argue that Yoda spoke wrong English - but hey - the French use more of Passive voice and the Germans put their verbs before their subjects - both of which Yoda regularly indulges in. And yet, and yet - we all get what he gibberishly speaks (apart from the whole With-you-may-the-Force-be, My-young-padawan concept - we are not Jedis, right?)

Do the readers feel my anger and frustration is vent upon the GMAT because i scored miserably in test - not really - in fact i did better in the english section than i was doing in any previous practice tests. My score was decent (my personal target was 700+ which i passed comfortably) if not phenomenal, and i am happy with what i got compared to the input i put in. Obviously, since humans are never the content species, they'll always crib if they fall short of the best. What am i to say - I am human too.

And that is the reason i see my guitar gently weep - even though i notice it not, it sees me transforming into something i am not, something i aim to be which i dont want to, struggling against the odds to get even, doing what my heart does not believe in, holding onto things i should let go, and missing those little joys of life that truly matter.

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at the floor and I see it need sweeping
Still my guitar gently weeps

I don't know why nobody told you
how to unfold you love
I don't know how someone controlled you
they bought and sold you

I look at the world and I notice it's turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps

I don't know how you were diverted
you were perverted too
I don't know how you were inverted
no one alerted you

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at you all
Still my guitar gently weeps ...

(George Harrison)

Silent Ramblings

'Eudosin d'orheon korhuphai te kai pharhagges'
'Prhones te kai charhadrhai.'

ALCMAN. (60 (10),646.)

(The mountain pinnacles slumber; valleys, crags and caves are silent.)

Starting lines of Poe's short story Silence - A Fable. Reminded me of my blog. Its been as quiet and calm out here as the lines suggest. There has been no zing to spice up any reminiscences to mention here as of now. A few people have been wondering where i have disappeared. To them, i say, in the words of Joe Strombel - "Give me a scoop, and i will give you a blog."

Its been boring these past few days. Nothing much has been going around. Almost had a near 'tryst with peanuts' again. Thankfully, recovered quickly with timely medication and a day off from work. Apart from that, the last excitement was in the shape of a lame fresher's party given by the company to welcome new hires. Obviously gone are those days when such parties used to be fun. Now, it was a necessity to get the party 'done and dusted' in order to boost employee morale. Still, I consider it a change for the better given the situation over the past few months. Some nominees have gotten around in trying to address this problem, and events are enroute to see that it gets implemented.

Oh and yeah, given that "the day ended" on 13th Sep in Jeetender 'badminton' style (read as Dhall gaya din ...), we celebrated with a trip to the sparkling vineyards of Spain. And i always thought the men fought in Sparta, while the women led combat in the Amazons.

The most buzzing thing these days is sports - Cricket and T20 - managed to catch Zim 'massacare' the Aussies (though not without some drama) - and then India's late night fight back to win a dramatic match and maintain a 100% world cup record against our neighbours. As Rameez Raja quoted, "Can India-Pakistan matches ever not be without romanticism?"
Champions League is back on track this month on, and i cant wait for Rooney-Ronaldo to return back to Porto and Roma and blast off. ManU are ticking me off by slender goal-margin wins. Its time to cut loose.
TT fever also has gripped the office. With a tourni likely to kick off soon, its time i spent practising getting my smashes on the table rather than at my opponent. It brings a new dimension to 'hitting below the belt' tagline.

I intend to watch 'Memento', considering rave reviews from fellow mates. If it does turn out to be a cult movie as they say it is, i'll be pleased. Anything to break this boredom from silence. And when i say silence, its not as if its got boring and dead all around. Its just about breaking away from the monotony, and trying to do something different, something interesting, something challenging, something exciting, something fruitful. Not all of them together, but probably even one will do.

Till i find a more suitable topic to lambast about, adieos !

Pigs with Rocket Launchers

Felt like taking a break from all the sombre stuff. So here is a post plagiarized (again) from a friend (a college junior and sister-school junior as well), who decided not to put the post up on his blog becuase of acute paranoia. He feels when applying to company for the post of VP/CEO etc, the company might perform background checks like the CIA and rake up demented dirt on him. And all this future planning when he is still in the 3rd year of engineering ...

But since i liked the post, i decided to put it up here with due acknowledgements. Most of it is verbatim, though i have added a couple of sprucers to it on my own. Here goes ...

So I came down to think about it. I do like Pigs. If I could really get down to making a comic with Pigs who had Rocket Launchers.
Characters and props I would need:

1. The SuperPiggy

• Simple Pig from the village.
• Wields a rocket launcher.
• Meets the WisePig who transfers all his wisdom to the SuperPiggy.
• So the SuperPiggy is extremely wise.

2. SuperPiggy's Love

• With beauty that none of the other female pigs posses.
• With a heart so pure.
• Our SuperPiggy is bound to fall for her.

3. An evil Pig

• Thinking up of a name is so tough.
• Suddenly I am filled with a lot of respect for all comic creators around the world.
• Okay I cant really think up of a name, but here s what he'd (or she :D) be like.
• Okay she.
• A female pig who has the power to draw male pigs towards her and brainwash them.
• Her piggish sensuality has left all male pigs wanting more.
• With her super piggy abilities (what evil powers would we like to give her?) and evil heart she has been able to make the biggest Pig army of the world.
• Well every Pigess (I daresay?) has a weakness. I need some help with this point people!

4. So the setup

• Okay how about a Japanese village as the perfect environment?
• We can then teach our pigs all kinds of Japanese "Ninja" Tricks.
• Our SuperPiggy can wear a black band on his forehead and go HAAAOINK! Just like all the ninjas do while fighting.

So now i need to think up details to continue this comic strip like Kekta Kapur continues her serials. My friend tells me people have already started creating the images for the strip. I can see where the TRPs are headed. Obviously we don't expect to do a Calvin and Hobbes. But dear paranoid friend of mine. Even company CEOs read Calvin and Hobbes. If Bill Watterson thought like you did, where would humor go?

The Portrait - Musings of AAA batteries personified ...

I am sick.
And I am tired.
Not of my own life though.

But of every Tom, Dick and Harry blabbering away like a "AAA" battery on a topic they have no inkling about (i hope this particularly quoted sarcasm doesn't go waste on the people intended, though i doubt since they have limited comprehension of what black humor might be), trying to make a tea-party out of it. Well it made me change one of my gibberish mood swings to this - "Money people earn for work they don't do ..." - and then probably go on to act as if the work got done because of them. Well, its not hard to put 2 and 2 together for people who inter-visit 'common' blogs often.

Well, i don't want to harp on these petty issues (oops - i really meant people)

All my frustration apart, i do not deny a couple of teeny-weeny truths probably there are in all these writings and stuff. But there has to be a way of putting it effectively across, without making it sound so gung-ho and repetitive and blatantly obscene. Take for instance the chai-waala dhaba postings by Dingy and AJ. I couldn't kind of really find one different from the other. No hard feelings AJ. But man, get your creativity going dude. I am sure you can phrase out the same thing in a much better manner using a decent (if not better) idea.

/* PS with Edits */
I am sorry AJ - it was NOT meant to be a personal attack on your creativity what-so-ever. I simply beg you to use your creative talents on something which is not so trivial. Reading the same issue day in and day out with half the junta not knowing the correct info and trying to provide their 2 cents on everything pissed me off. I apologize if what i meant actually came out incorrectly (which i accept it did when i re-read it) and i caught you in the line of my frustration firing. That is what blogging is meant for :)

I cant respond to comments right now due to some proxy issues on this stupid network.
As i told you, dil pe mat lena - lets put together our heads much more "creatively" and try and loosen Mr. AS of some of his hard(ly) earned money during lunch on wednesday ...
/* End of PS with Edits */

And apart from these 2 blog posts, there were a couple of others, but too insignificant for me to mention here ...

All in all, i decided to fall back to my only form of creativity - poetry writing. I had ended up reading one of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories called "The Oval Portrait". So i decided to use it as my theme to fire up a few lines by myself which could probably describe the situation in a much more positive/optimistic outlook rather than the mundane-sombre-deadbolt approach people try to take. I personally don't look down upon my chai stall. In-fact, i consider it to be a piece of art. As opposed to the contrary notion of a chottu chai waala, tea-preparation techniques can be vocational in themselves. I am sure many wouldn't agree with the lines crafted below, in that light - but to them i say - who cares - i blog because i like to - "i blog because i think" (OK, thats stolen from Descartes, but he is not going to turn in his grave for plagiarizing it)

So here goes my le' imbecile. Without any visible firm bashings like the others !!
For people who cannot link the artist, or the exhibition, or the lady-love to known events and surroundings - well shame on you !!
I truly think that with a little effort and vodka (reference: Unni) you will understand it. There are a couple of interpretations, i as a poet thought out.
Good luck ...

THE PORTRAIT

Oh ! What a painter he was, an artist so fine
He could sketch from gothic frames, to a mural with intricate design
Never did art exceed its greatness so, in that era
Those pictures were more real than Gods Zeus or Hera

Once to the Paris Art Exhibition he went
where he fell in love with an angel, from heaven sent
He married her and brought her home
with a single desire to paint her, standing next to the Elyssian Dome

She was a maiden unparalleled in beauty and form
to be challenged only by the genius' artistic storm
Never did she like his involvment to become so deep
that he completely forgot her, even in his sleep
But a gentle, loving, obedient wife she was,
so she allowed herself to be portrayed for his cause

To capture that face on paper, he would like a madman work
never would he budge from his seat, though the night shadows around him lurk
For weeks together with the eisel in front of her spread
she sat in the dark high turret, a single window overhead
But he, the painter, took glory in his work, which stretched from day to day
that he shut himself up, keeping even his loved ones at bay

He could not see the dark, despaired health and spirit of his bride
who even in this time of gloom, yet had never cried
From the ardour of his work he never rose
to see the shattered, dying countenance of the lovely lady he chose

When finally his masterpiece had been completed
and the bristles of the paint brushes with the oil color reserves had depleted
then did he rise to admire his art, his child
none could achieve such greatness, even with an imagination so wild

"This is life indeed" , looking at the portrait he said
and he turned around suddenly to regard his beloved - SHE WAS DEAD

Say "NO" something to "They" Uncle ...

It seems like this blog is turning out to be a transcript of my proceedings in the office on a regular (daily i think) basis.

Who said working wasn't supposed to be fun. According to a certain Mr. 'They', you should always enjoy working. Thanks to him, the 'day' never goes without some spice and spruce to it.

Take for instance yesterday. Sun-Tzu would have been put to shame over his Art of War book. A master of cornering people and then ripping them apart shamefacedly is somthing our Mr. 'They' does exceedingly well. We were on a conference call with him for a continuous 3 .5 hours, and the ultimate takeaway of the whole meeting was - "So Guys, Hold on. Learn to say NO".

First thought in our mind - can we say No to your "gyaan" and have our dinner. Or, can we say No and move on with the scheduled piece of work, which otherwise could be completed without YET another night at the call center (oops i meant office - though doesnt make much difference - we are after all "Culturally" a BPO company).

We had a long series of lectures over 'incompetent' communication skills, time management, project management, our inability to put our foot down and say NO to client requests, push them back blah blah blah. There were 9 subpoints highlighted by our team where we thought we were facing issues. It so happened that Mr. 'They' blasted us on our own issues. And when he asked - "You with me?", we were supposed to say "NO" ???

The high point of the call came when he asked our manager if he could do a particular piece of work. We were so into the NO philosophy by this time that after much deliberation, we were put into the classic Calvin situation as shown below.



Considering it to be a trick question, we felt we knew the answer - yet another Calvin classic to illustrate the situation

And then the answer from our side was - NO. We cannot do what you are asking us to do. But, it truly was a trick question, and we got blasted once more for saying a No where we were not supposed to say it.

Coming out of those stressful 200 minutes was a relief - but whatever said and done, throughout the night our team continued to be in a good spirits often joking about the NO factor.

We named our manager "Dr. No" henceforth. And the team singing in Daler Mehndi style - "No no - no no - no re - no re - no re ...". So the 2 important lessons we learnt yesterday were that - first, Pinpoint who is 'they' (else it would give him a complex) when you accuse someone and secondly, Say "NO" something to "They" Uncle ...

No more "Lee"way ...

17th of August will probably be recognized henceforth as the saddest day, a Black Friday, in the history of the 3rd largest American P&C Insurance company, and for our project team as well.

No, we did not screw up the project (whats done is done - it is beyond us now to screw it up further)
No, we did not mess up getting an extension.

What then could be so catastrophic you ask?

Well, attrition (due to work pressure, tough bosses etc.) finally caught up with our project team, and one of our most "crucial" members resigned.

No, not here at my workplace - but - guess what - at the client side ...

Its now doing the rounds in the entire office that our project will probably live in the annals of the firm as the first to lose an analyst from the client team. Well the fault is not (completely) ours. The poor fellow probably succumbed to the blastings from his boss just about as much stick we keep receiving from ours. However, Indians, even with all the cribbing, are known to bow down and slog in with late nights and weekends if required. That perhaps is not the culture I expect in a US office, where you come in early morning and leave early evening. Our poor boy it seems was pushed to the limit and veered off the edge.

It is not that i would miss him because he was so dear to me - even though i haven't met him till now, i feel this bond with him. He brings humor to the calls, and with all his antics, keeps the meetings interesting. More importantly he was always made the fall guy and held accountable for all the mistakes anybody did on the team. I say this as the bare naked truth. Yes, we are highly indebted to him for soaking this pressure up on our behalf as well. Okay, he was at fault most of the times as well, but then give the poor guy a break. We all make mistakes. As long as they are not made daily and you can cover them.

I have seen the guy go from pathetic to awsome in over the 7 months that i have been interacting with him. What started out as a communication problem, seems to have been solved. I have lowered my bar and now think like him and talk in his language (which is a shock to my manager and team-mates). It is difficult. At times exasperating. But the joy of finally knowing you have made a point across makes you happy. You receive your share of taunts - "He understands what you are saying - you must be really retarded for that to happen".

Over a few weeks, i started maintaing logs of our meeting notes. If you thought notes about the project, you are dumb. Your just not 'thinking' at the right level. Notes about the amazing one liner the guys keeps throwing around, that he thinks are superbly intellectual, unknown to him that our team here in the office is on the floors, with their stomachs aching with laughter.

Take for instance the comment on him using a procedure "Funk Merge" to extract some data (which ultimately is so screwed that its taking weeks for his boss to re-extract it himself). For the uninitiated in SAS, there is NO procedure that goes by that name. Atleast not known to us lesser mortals. Given the way he talks and behaves, it was a shock to us to know that he had his "own personal laptop" and "drove a car with bluetooth in it". Whatever said and done, the guy was doing good data quality checks. I mean, OK, if you pull the obviously wrong data in the first place, it shouldn't be difficult to point it out.

We were also stunned by his "I know how CART works comment". Its a complex tool used for profiling/regression etc. which most users still haven't had a hang on, while we, who are practically experts on it, dont feel as confident as he did. He used words like "backfilling" and "re-engineering". He was training people in his company (i cant even guess wildly on what), working late hours, and even weekends. It seemed like the rubber band had stretched a bit too much. The point of no return had come.

Towards the end (i mean just before he resigned), even his manager had started taunting him publically in front of us. Attributing all errors to him, making him write explanatory notes to the VP, perform "sniff tests" and so on. The poor guy always took it in good fun, but he did realize that all his boss cared was for meetings and presentations, and not for him.

On Thursday, when he finally broke the news, i personally was in tears. My team was happy thinking it would be easier for the work to proceed in his absence. But they did not realize that the one link that maintained the axe from falling on our heads directly from the client boss was this guy. For him, he felt that the upcoming presentation to the Board of Directors would take a backseat with his resignation. The VP would have to bring in a new fresher. After all, He was the "Subject Matter Expert" in his own little nichest of niche domains.

In a speech, dedicated to my client counterpart, that Amit made to him over the phone, he called him our "One point anchor".
Come 31st August, we will miss you old pal. There will be no more comic jokes, no musings, no fun, no laughter. There will be No more 'Lee'way for us henceforth at the client side.

Koffee with Rohit (who??)

They talk about monday morning blues.
I was in a total mood to avoid that today.

Infact, i was in such a mood to avoid that and something else associated with it, that i decided to reach the office not before noon. It didnt work out the way it was supposed to - and so i got to (was made to?) have coffee with Rohit. Rohit Kapoor, President/COO, EXL Services.

The invitation for cofee had been extended to a select few, by advertising out the same in a very ludicrous manner over e-mail by our dear fwd-FYI-without-topi-ka-HR. The appointment had been set for an hour at 12 noon on a monday. Some mystic ninjas were enthusiastic about it and reached the office sooner than they usually do for work, while other laggards like me tried coming in as late to avoid making an entry into the conference room.

Unfortunately, the meeting got postponed an hour out, thus making it impossible to make an excuse. At about 1pm the few of us (not more than 12-15) got together in the bored room (no its not a spelling mistake), and "signed" the attendance sheet like little school kids. Masterji was very angry when told that some children will not be able to come to the class because they were ill/watching cricket/bunking etc etc etc ....

In anticipation of the coffee (that is what after all we had come for !!), we were deliberating as to would we get to choose between a mocha and a cappucino or a latte, or would a single brew be served throughout the board. All hopes of a good coffee were shattered when we saw the standard cups, and tea bags, entering the room. It was a disaster. Cold tea, without sugar !!!

Well in the midst of all the tea/coffee drama, we had an hour of discussion (about i am not even sure what??) with Mr. Kapoor. His conversation was somehow reminiscent of Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities -

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going the other way.

Well, though, it did seem more like it was the best of times for him and the worse of time for me, but none-the-less ...

It was a discussion on a personal front, to know the man who built the company, better. He talked about his education, his work experience (inlcuding the part about managing a trainee for 2 months, who later on ended up being his wife), the way he setup the company, the acheivements and the slides etc. There were some questions from the not-so-enthusiastic audience in terms of a few queries/concerns, a couple of which were pretty emabarassing beamers for the boss and his team, but they ducked well.

Ultimately, the moot point of the coffee charade all came down to what one expected it to be all along - STAY and WAIT and BELIEVE.

The hour long session ended with Rohit giving out 2 autographed coffee mugs, the way KJ does on his show, to the two most enthusiastic members of the group (in short people who asked the most questions and bugged the others). The others received mugs as well, without the signature of-course. With Rohit finally leaving for his flight to Pune, probably for another coffee tete-a-tete there, the group embarked upon their second mission - 'samosas' and 'dhoklas'.

/* Transgressing away */
For the uninitiated, samosas, are snacks to be had piping/steaming hot, made of mashed potatoes, peas and lots of different spices, wrapped in a cone shaped coating of gram/corn flour (not sure which - my culinery skills are restricted).
Dhoklas are dhoklas - dont ask me how and what they are made from.
/* Regressing back */

Back to our original discussion, the samosas were effectively colder than the tea. You couldn't expect them to be less so, given they had been put out there in the open right under the AC vents. I could barely manage finishing one, while ninjas with occult powers helped themselves to probably half a dozen.

Finally, returning to our cubicles, we posed with our priced possesions and heres what it looks like. It was, truly, an "interesting" Coffee with Rohit ...

Driving in the fast lane !!

No, this is not another philosphocial or lifestyle or marketing mantra based concept.
The topic post is just what it says - quite literally - driving in the fast lane - on the roads ...

Its been now close to a month (or two was it?) that i have started driving on the "bad wolf" roads of Delhi and Gurgaon. It still feels like you are going to get gobbled up by the raging-bull traffic around you.

I have that dreaded L-sign still taped to the back of my car windshield. Dreaded not for me - but for people around me. The L-sign, especially "red lettered" that it is, invokes for some the tendency to live (and fight) another day (by passing the learner very very slowly and safely) and for others the wrath of a woman scorned (horns screeching and honking at learners who inevitably find their vehicles stoppind dead center of a traffic jam on a green signal, others wanting to zip through by).

Well - for me - its been there, done that kind of stuff now. I think i can drive decently well now (by my standards atleast) on main roads and negotiate tricky traffic. I however, am still not into the thick of how things drive into "danger zone" yet. I play by the rules. And that is what will get me killed someday on these roads.

I thought, and still do, (and i know pretty sure i am not delusional on this) that in Delhi/Gurgaon (actually in India as a whole), the driving is right-handed. Which means, by pure logic that you overtake a vehicle from the right, and hence the fast lanes would be the rightmost lane on any road. Why then for the love of defied logic, do people with cars that cannot go more than 30kmph on a freeway, want to travel in the rightmost lane. That too when all 3 lanes on their left are totally empty. And when you tend to be driving at 100kmph, if somebody jumps in front of your car, then God save him/her (I doubt if even He can manage to do that).

And its not just private vehicles. But for some reason, the trucks and tempos think of the right lane as their daddy's as well. No matter how much you honk, blink your lights, cuss at them, show them the finger - it just isnt going to move them off that track. Then out of sheer frustration, you change lanes from right to left (mind you, i have given the left side indicator as well), but just about as you are doing that, some other guy, coming straight from playing Road Rash 2, crashes past your left rear view mirror jarring his horn, only for you to shift back again in the right lane behind the tempo and repeat the infinte cycle to try and overtake it.

I can understand the pain the Formula-1 drivers would be feeling when driving lap after lap behind a slower car, trying to find that perfect corner, that moment when they are just about close enough to sling shot from the slip-stream and overtake the car in front. But till then they must wait and wait and wait - and brake and brake and brake if they get too close enough for comfort. Reminds me of Massa's Ferrari behind a debutante's Spyker at the end of the safety lap in the European Grand Prix. A dream come true for the rookie to lead the race on atleast one lap, but the impatience of Massa and Alonso to get past him.

Well for me its not so drastic as January and May as it was in this F1 race, but as O.Henry would put it - its still a clear case of October and June.

So as i have learnt, driving in the fast lane is easier said than done. Didn't really know that the phrase used by so many 'gurus' really meant what it actually was. Nothing figurative. And the world thought it was euphemism ...

Mlogging - the Farmer's way ...

Finally got 2 go on a team dinner to Le' Meridien with my kissan bhai behen. Translated 2 english, thats farmers and not ketchup. Had 2 resort 2 mobile blogging given a few late hours at office, no internet at home, 'unabling' me 2 transfer pics or post. Keeping it short. This gets expensive :)

Post addendum - a view of the Le' Meridien lobby 20 floors down from the passage entrance to Belvediere (their restaurant)

The OSIAN Film Festival - Movie in Review (TIME)

Of all the recent weekends, this was one where i managed to drag myself outside my house, got my lazy bum into the car and drove off to Siri Fort, where the Osian Film Festival for Asian and Arab movies was on. Today was the penultimate day and one of my old college pals suggested we get together. It had been long since we last met, so I acquiesced to his wishes.

After a couple of wrong detours on my way to the auditorium, i finally managed to reach the place well on time, located the ticket booking counter, and got the 3 tickets i needed from an over-the-counter-side-line rather than the main queue. The movie we had decided on watching was "Time" - a Korean movie directed by Kim Ki Duk.

While i waited my for equally slow-bro pal and his friend to join me, i contemplated my decision on not wearing the traditional kurta-jeans combo to the film festival. I kind of felt the odd one out in my T-s. But i thought my common sense had prevailed. It was too hot and sultry to wear a kurta, whatever be the occasion. It was also too hot to be sporting a Rastafarian hairdo but none-the-less, there were guys with just that. Looked like a typical DU atmosphere - kurtas, jeans, jholas, wraparounds, junk jewelery and beads. Add to that a few foreigners and the kolhapuri chappals - and the deal was complete.

Well, about "time" i got to the movie in review here !!

Love Against the Passage of Time is the movie's theme.

/* Spoiler Starts */

Time is the story of 2 people - See-hee and Ji-woo. After two years of romantic relationship, our male protagonist Ji-Woo realizes that his love for See-hee is not the same as before. See-hee feels that Ji-Woo cannot bear to look at her face day in and day out. Over a tumultuous day, See-hee just disappears, and breaks all contact with Ji-woo. He is left to brood the loss and misses See-hee every day. He still loves her even after what she did to him.

As time passes, it is now 6 months since that fateful day when See-hee had disappeared. Ji-woo, on a visit to the sculpture island, the place he frequented with his ex-girlfriend, meets a girl named Seh-hee, and is struck by the uncanny similarity of the name. She is a waitress at the coffee house he regularly visits. They strike up a relationship, only for Ji-Woo to be thoroughly confused when Seh-hee asks him the question - "What would you do if See-hee returns back?". Ji-woo replies he doesn't know.

As the two fall in a comforting happiness, Ji-woo gets a letter from See-hee wanting to come back. Ji-woo is torn by the love he could not forget and leaves Seh-hee for his old flame, after a huge argument. Ji-woo decides to meet See-hee, who comes wearing a mask on her face. The mask itself is a picture of her. Ji-woo is confused and asks for an explanation. He realizes that See-hee and Seh-hee are one and the same. Since See-hee found his love to be waning and he wanting to look at other girls, she underwent a plastic surgery on her good looking face, and got a totally different look.

Ji-woo is stunned hearing this and is aghast at what See-hee had done. He tells her that love was what he has inside him, not her exterior looks. He walks of from her and himself disappears. He goes to the same plastic surgeon and gets himself a makeover as well. He asks See-hee to wait for him for 6 months the way he did and then come back to find him at the place where he used to pursue his hobby of shooting pics.

As more time passes by (in the movie as well as in the hall), See-hee starts approaching every man she sees in hope of finding Ji-woo. She gets mislead every time, and starts losing her mental stability. One day she thinks she sees the man who could be Ji-Woo and follows him. The faceless guy starts running from her, and in the process ends up under a car. See-hee goes insane thinking she ended up killing Ji-Woo. She enters the plastic surgeons office and asks one final time to be grafted. The movie ends with a shot of countless unknown people walking in the street, with See-hee dissolved somewhere in this obscurity, her new identity hidden and unknown to us. The landmark in the Sculpture Park, where Ji-Woo and See-hee used to spend time, is now under the ocean that surrounds it.

/* Spoiler Ends */

Time could not win over love ...

Since i found my above narration to be pretty lame and direct, i'd rather quote something here from the movie's director, and the amazing sculpture shown in the movie

DIRECTOR'S COMMENT

"It is an instinctive desire to seek for novelties.
It is human to endure the passage of time.
It is love to find novelties among repeating routines.
It is life to realize that nothing lasts forever in the passage of time.

Here are lovers crazy about each other.
But after their long relationship, it isn't love that has decayed, it is their throbbing hearts, their chemistry, their passion and their yearning.
I am posing a question to them. An absurd one."

Overall, the movie could be labeled as "interesting". Not a great class apart thing, but it highlights the concept that obsession (in this case with plastic surgery and the look good factor, as is so common in Korea these days) can lead to disastrous outcomes, and that relationships are not as fragile as some might make them out to be, and vice versa. Looks like a leaf or two out of the Eternal Sunshine types, but no where close to the masterpiece.

My first movie at a film festival, i'd probably rate it at 6.5 on a scale of 10, for some humor in the early stages, a 'different' concept and and even different portrayal of that concept. I could probably notch it up to 7 actually. The movie was dark, in terms of the story and the ending, and that is something i personally like. So looking forward to seeing more obscurities in the near future, or should i say, in Time.

A Days of Firsts !!

Today was just one of those days where everything happens for the first time ...

• I drove my car from home to office (a distance of about 75 odd minutes) and then back home as well - all by myself - a feeling of real ecstasy and adrenaline rush - if not for me then for the guys whom i brushed past by :)
• I called up a dear old friend saat samundar paar and talked to her on the phone after 2 years (it was her bday, but no excuses) - it was delightful to hear each others voices after such a hiatus - reminiscent of the good old times
• I watched the cult classic Mithun starrer Gunda with all audio titles in place - last time around i had only caught the video - i was simply stunned by this thunderstrike of a movie - hope to God to give the masses sense enough to appreciate it. The movie is at concept level - a true work of art. I wished for the first time that i get a chance to watch more of such entertaining cinema.
• For the first time on the new project phase there was no call with the client.
• I (my team as well) finished all my work well before delivery time.
• My boss and I had a marathon heart to heart for the first time in two years where lots of feel good things were discussed, but i am still clueless to the actual issue of why I had gone to him in the first place.
• I managed to find a place to stay all by my own enterprising efforts and information gathering.
• I am writing a post with all bullet points for the first time. I am also writing this post without editing it.
  
• Finally, I am tired and sleeping before 12am for the fist time in weeks ...
  

Tryst with Peanuts ...

I have gone 'nuts' over this last week. And simply because of peanuts in my life - both literally and metaphorically.

Monday began with me taking the hardest decision of my life yet - withdrawing my name from the B-school roles, with some finally feeling a relief, and making quick money (Yes, there had been bets over me joining or not to the order of a few K i have heard). I also got to hear an earful from a few others who felt that for 'peanuts' i could have graduated from one of the better mba colleges in India. The ROI would have been amazing given the minuscule fee structure.

The same day there came the devastation - the organizational cost cutting plan which reduced our bonuses to peanuts and increased our salary to Peanuts (please do note that the change in capitalization of 'P' here is discretionary and can be reversed any #$%@ day I want). Reminds me of the Dilbert strip a co-employee circulated in the happening of this event.

And as if that was not enough, i succumbed to my allergy to actual salted peanuts and got my larynx in a bloated state, the consequence of which was high fever, body ache, throat infection et al.

I am still recuperating from all this peanut sickness, and i doubt that, though the physical pain will subside, mental scares will ever get healed.
The only good thing i feel now is by going back and listening to Coleridge and Beck and Pope !!! In the advent of this, i added yet another video clip to the post of the Rime of the Ancient Mariner below, with the recital of some verses. Enjoy it.

And to the one who said that the B-school fees was peanuts, i say, go check my bonus - thats peanuts, the fees refund i got was a 7 course meal compared to that ...

Peanutting off
Perky P

Poetic Musings - Eloise to Abelard

07 July 2007

Continuing from where i left off the previous post, here's the 2nd part to my poetic musings. This time it's the romantic love ballad by Alexander Pope - "Eloise to Abelard". I came across this obscure and unheard of poetry while watching the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, a movie which kind of brought me down to my knees in terms of the theme and performance and music. But its not about ESotSM that i am here to write - its about the poem from which the title line has been borrowed, and a paragraph of which Mary Svevo recites to the doctor ...

" How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd "

Probably only after the powerful dialogue delivery by Kirsten Dunst and the background images of Jim Carey - Kate Winslet fading into Beck's Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime do i realize that i must find the source to these amazingly beautiful and serene lines. And thus i read through another ballad about eternal love.



The story of Eloise and Abelard is similar to that of Romeo and Juliet to an extent. Need i say more. Boy loves girl, girl loves boy, families dont like either, lots of blood spilt.
Not really this way, but Abelard was one of the famous tutors of his age, and Eloise was his student. The love between them developed but Eloise's family were not ready to accept that, and had Abelard castrated. Both Eloise and Abelard entered into clerical service, where once again, Eloise's love for Abelard grew strong, and what followed was a series of letters exchanged between Eloise and Abelard.

The ballad speaks about this condoned love between the two fateful lovers. The archaic wordings lend it an odd mystery and charm that probably normal English would not have justified. The poetry is beautiful, and like all beautiful poetry, it is rhyming. Now that would sound very odd to many people. Why is this lunatic comparing good poetry with ryhmes !
Simply because i feel that to express your thoughts in rhyming poetry, where the correct words need to inter-weave, is an art in itself. Simple thoughts well laid out would constitute a prose, not poetry.

The difference between the two ballads i read - Rime earlier and Eloise now (apart from the rhyming scheme abcb v/s aabb respectively) - is that while Rime incites pity via horror and terror, Eloise incites the same via love and sorrow. One is the reminiscence of eternal darkness, the other of unconditional love. Coleridge stimulates the deepest fears plaguing the mind, Pope touches the inner sanctums of the heart. Coleridge is more easier to understand in first reading than Pope, though that does not take away the joy of reading 'Eloise to Abelard' to try and grasp the real meaning and the ballad's beauty. Some lines 'sound' so good, it sometimes becomes irrelevant to even understand what they mean.

As before, i quote here the lines i liked the most from this mega-scribe. Rest is for the reader to sift and explore and enjoy.

" In these deep solitudes and awful cells,
Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells,
And ever-musing melancholy reigns;
What means this tumult in a vestal's veins?
Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat?
Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat?
Yet, yet I love! — From Abelard it came,
And Eloisa yet must kiss the name."

" Relentless walls! whose darksome round contains
Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains:
Ye rugged rocks! which holy knees have worn;
Ye grots and caverns shagg'd with horrid thorn!
Shrines! where their vigils pale-ey'd virgins keep,
And pitying saints, whose statues learn to weep!
Though cold like you, unmov'd, and silent grown,
I have not yet forgot myself to stone.
All is not Heav'n's while Abelard has part,
Still rebel nature holds out half my heart;
Nor pray'rs nor fasts its stubborn pulse restrain,
Nor tears, for ages, taught to flow in vain."

" Then share thy pain, allow that sad relief;
Ah, more than share it! give me all thy grief. "

" No happier task these faded eyes pursue;
To read and weep is all they now can do."

" Canst thou forget what tears that moment fell,
When, warm in youth, I bade the world farewell?
As with cold lips I kiss'd the sacred veil,
The shrines all trembl'd, and the lamps grew pale: "

" Yet here for ever, ever must I stay;
Sad proof how well a lover can obey!
Death, only death, can break the lasting chain;
And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain,"

I could have written so much more of these beautiful verses here. But that would defeat the purpose. Lines that i write here are significant to me, and me only. It is for the audience mesmerized to unravel the poetry in its entirety and decipher the meaning of lines that stand true for them. I for mine still have a long way to go doing that. I sign off with the last verse that rings so true, i can but visualize Eloise and Abelard, not as the characters they are, but as me penning these lines.

" Condemn'd whole years in absence to deplore,
And image charms he must behold no more;
Such if there be, who loves so long, so well;
Let him our sad, our tender story tell;
The well-sung woes will soothe my pensive ghost;
He best can paint 'em, who shall feel 'em most. "

Here, at last, i understand !
And So be it ...

Poetic Musings - The Rime ...

July 02, 2007

In a mood swing today, that generally happens when i am not working and hence my brain is at its creatively worst, i decided to surf through famous ballads from yonder years, and read through two amzingly interesting pieces of poetry.

The first was Samuel Taylor Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. The last rememberence i have of this megascribe was some very long exceprt in my English class 10 syllabus that spaced out over 3-4 pages (pretty huge by standards then for a poem, when the mind of an average Joe schoolkid was barely mugging up 2-3 paragraphs).

Today i read the entire seven parts of the poem, and realized that back then we had gone through just two !!
I feel a little hard done now, seeing that the charm of the poem lies in reading it completely, and more importantly, understanding each and every line with its obscure connotation. The way Coleridge lays out bare the horror of crimes the human society indulges in and the casual attitude with which it behaves towards such an outrage, really chills my bones. Given that some of the passages were written by Coleridge under the influence of opium, it is not far from the feeling and mysticism that he must have felt while induced in a pyschedlic state, especially the passages that describe the fiendish passing away of the sailors and the whispers of the lost souls across the ocean.

It is difficult to elaborate the devilry in my modest words. The subtle interplay of archaic wordings and the amazing Mariner centric poem, that so cleverly invloves the other sailors, the listner, the wedding entourage, even the albatross, and yet so easily does not draw the focus away from the protagonist (or rather should i say the antagonist) throughout the entire poetry. The journey, the pain and the suffering, the joy of forgiving and being forgiven, the penance, and finally the salvation - it is indeed a ballad - complete.

I leave it up to the curious reader to explore this on his own. All i can do is mention a few lines from the poetry which impressed upon me the most and helped me trace the contour of the darkest thoughts in Coleridge's mind.


"Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink."

"And some in dreams assured were
Of the spirit that plagued us so:
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow."

"An orphan's curse would drag to Hell
A spirit from on high;
But oh! more horrible than that
Is a curse in a dead man's eye!
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,
And yet I could not die."

And finally the lines that i heard in this video below which made me revisit the poem ...



"Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
With a woeful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free.

Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns;
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.

I pass, like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see,
I know the man that must hear me:
To him my tale I teach."


I shall continue my poetic musings in my next post
Cheers !!

Blog Roaming

June 26, 2007

This is painful. Wanting to blog but nothing to write. The perpetual feeling of wanting to do something because you are bored, but knowing not what to do ...

I indulge myself thus in some blog reading and pitting myself against some "pyscho tests".

Here are the results - very eerie in the sense they do sound true !!

Whats my inner blood type ?

You seem cool and collected, though a bit shy.You are highly driven and a perfectionist, but that's a side you keep to yourself.Creative and artistic, you are a very unique person who doesn't quite fit in.People accept you more than you realize, seeing you as trustworthy and loyal. You are most compatible with: A and AB Famous Type A's: Britney Spears and Hilter. Your Inner Blood Type is Type A

What kind of intelligent am i ?

You are excellent with words and language. You explain yourself well.An elegant speaker, you can converse well with anyone on the fly.You are also good at remembering information and convicing someone of your point of view.A master of creative phrasing and unique words, you enjoy expanding your vocabulary. You would make a fantastic poet, journalist, writer, teacher, lawyer, politician, or translator. Your Dominant Intelligence is Linguistic Intelligence

How intuitive are you?

Your intuition is often right, and you use it more than you may realize.Your gut feelings are usually a good guide, but you need more to go on when making a decision.You'll often check to see if the facts back up your feelings.And when your intuition is wrong, you work to improve it for the future. You Are 52% Intuitive

How weird am i ?

You're so weird, you think you're *totally* normal. Right?But you wig out even the biggest of circus freaks! You Are 60% Weird

What kind of mythical creature are you?

Driven and ambitious, you tend to acquire material success easily.You have grand schemes - both for your own life and for changing the whole world.You are a great leader, and you have no problem taking the reigns.However, you aren't all business. You also have great talents for performing and visual arts. You Are a Phoenix

And now i have reached a limit of copy pasting html snippets.

Close out and stimulate my brain, i must, writing a blog before i can think (Yaster Moda from Wart Sauce)

Return to my Roots

May 30, 2007

I have just about returned from a trip to my paternal hometown. Located in Surat, and abundant in a Parsi populace i had never seen, the trip was an amazing boon to get away from the hectic office life, and meet up family members i hadn't met in a very long time.

The trip started with an hours flight to Baroda, and then about 3-4 hrs on the highway. I was sorely missing my earplugs because Born to be Wild was jumping around to get played. A nice little lunch on the dhaba enroute could be termed as "interesting". This was on a friday evening. And then came the Saturday where i realized i had a pretty big family :)

A day before my cousin's wedding (obviously that was the reason i had gone on this trip), there was this "small" family gathering. Now consider this as a mathematical problem. My paternal grandmother had six other siblings, each of whom had atleast 4 kids each (one of them being my daddy dearest), and this genration having a couple of kids each as well. Now also throw in their spouses and their close relatives. Seemingly a hash of sorts, with me totaly oblivious to the fact of whose-who. Everytime my dad got up to meet somebody i would be having this bewildered expression on my face, thinking, now who the deuce is this. Then i would get introduced and i would be like - aah i see - as if i had attained all knowledge and obtained Nirvana.

The best part about all this being that all the people knew me quite well - "yes, i had seen you when you were so small. I dont think you would remember me !"
I mean, doesnt my obviously bamboozled face tell you that already ...

In all this melee my younger sister was probably even more perplexed than i was. We being Delhites, rarely manage to make it to the west coast. And thus our interactions with all other distant cousins was neglibible.

Well the outcome of all this being - when we reached back home after a hectic and eventful day, we sat down and re-created our family tree chart. From top to bottom and left to right we identified all there was know about my roots and the various connections.

Well the next day went more smoothly now. But wonders never cease. You always end up coming across relatives not present in your tree chart !!
Overall it was an "enriching" experience, to meet up old relatives and attend my sister's wedding. Had a great time, lots of fun, saw some really old pics of my family, and went back to my roots. More importantly, i turned back a non-vegetarian. There was no way i could stop myself from not having Parsi non-veg cuisines - "sali-marghi", "bhaji-dana-nu-gos", "machi-patiao", "kheema patis", and on and on. My mooth still drools.
This being a marriage there were obviously good looking chicks around (i mean girls this time - not the non-veg item on my dish). My cousin obviously asked me to let him know in case i was interested in any one !!

And as weddings go, you always end up being asked the question - so are you the next in line ?
Oh well old grannies, meet me in the funeral parlour, i'll put the same question to you :)

Jeepers Creepers

Apr 18, 2007

Its not about scary horror movies that i am going to follow on about in this scrap. You here the phrase jeepers creepers et al and you kind of synonimize it with a dark room, all alone, 1:00 in the night, horror movies blah blah ...

I wanted to talk about the part about being all alone here, and for a lack of a more imaginative post topic, i ended up using this.

Anyways, the point is : How many times have we faced a scenario, where we are all alone, with absolutely no soul around (living or dead), just "trying" to while away some idle time, simply because there is a petty thing that needs to be done, because it needs to be done and nobody else wants to do it, and you have nothing else to do while it is being done. Stare out into the space maybe - but that's only when you are doing your petty little work out in the open, which generally is not the case (now don't u try and fit a weird connotation to this).

And hence the question - who to blame - what to do ?
I mean somebody should have the decency to give you company - how would it be put - "moral" support by "physical" presence ???

/* Bit of geek talk */
I have realized that the work at hand and output/utilization/efficiency are directly correlated to the number and type of people around you. It seems to follow an abstract kind of a curve - something i know and understand but cannot explain. The more the number of people buzzing around you, less is the work you manage to complete. The inverse is also true. But this is not a tan90 situation, where zilch people around would mean infinite productivity. There is a lower cap to this as well. For some time, being all alone - the silence and the quiet - are actually good predictors of my efficiency model.
/* End of Bit of geek talk */

But then after a point it feels - why the hell am i banging my head on something others are least bothered about. Is it because i am a fool enough to be good and sugary nice to not deny the work laid out in front of me. Or is it that the others are just too shameless to share the burden even after well placed hints that kind of make it so obvious. In the end when realization dawns, the simple statement would be - "you should have said so explicitly - how would i realize that you wouldn't be able to work it out yourself".

And the next obvious question that arises is - what next - so how do i spend this eerie time all alone myself. And the next obvious answer is -

I write this stupid blog entry ...