Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Continued from here.
Carl did not know it was going to be the longest night he has ever seen in his life.
He climbed down the stairs as fast as he could and when he reached Aunt Natasha's room, he stopped. The living room to his left looked eerily silent and unperturbed. So did the hallway. Absolute Silence. He held his breath for a moment and he could hear nothing but his pounding heart beat. He was not sure if he should knock the door.
He heard something behind him in the stairs. In the spur of the moment, he pushed open Aunt Natasha's room and stormed inside. Aunt Natasha was not there in her bed.
Utterly panicked, he looked around the room. Finding no movement but for the swinging ghostly drapes, he thoughtfully made his move. He knocked the door to the bathroom and called out for Aunt Natasha in his shaken voice. Receiving no response, he slowly opened the door. The lights were ON, but he did not see what he half-expected. The bathroom was as tidy as it could be.
He quickly turned around and walked towards the closet. He examined the closet doors one by one, when he noticed the third closet door left slightly ajar.
He quickly turned around and walked towards the closet. He examined the closet doors one by one, when he noticed the third closet door left slightly ajar.
Scared and bewildered, he opened the closet door as slowly as he could. He saw her there. Aunt Natasha looked pale and her eyes were wide open. Her hair was awfully disheveled and blood was still oozing out of her head on the right side. Aunt Natasha was dead. Carl screamed and felt his head spinning.
Scared and bewildered, he opened the closet door as slowly as he could. He saw her there. Aunt Natasha looked pale and her eyes were wide open. Her hair was awfully disheveled and blood was still oozing out of her head on the right side. Aunt Natasha was dead. Carl screamed and felt his head spinning.
He ran to the living room and lifted the phone to call his mom. He heard somebody walking down the stairs. Carl slowly kept the phone receiver down and remained silent. In a moment, he saw his own image walking down the stairs slowly looking directly at him. The image increased its pace and hurried towards Carl.
His senses urged him to run, but he could not respond. His legs refused to cooperate. His brain was numb. He knew he would be killed. He was out of tears. He realized he was totally helpless.
The image kept walking towards Carl.
The next 10 seconds seemed unceasing. The image took every step cautiously. There was no mercy left in it. No sign of love. No smile. Carl suddenly thought of his piano, his only obsession and desire in life. He wished he played his piano one last time before dying. He could not figure out why he thought so. The image almost neared him. Carl hated the image, oblivious of the fact that it’s his own.
In seconds, the image came close enough to touch Carl, but stopped. Carl closed his eyes. He waited. He waited for pain. He waited for death to beckon. But nothing happened.
Carl opened his eyes and saw the image still standing at the same position. He raised his eye-brows. So did the image. He raised his hands. So did the image. He smiled slowly. So did the image.
He suddenly heard his mom shouting "What the hell are you doing at the bathroom for so long?! It’s getting late for school!"
The author, being inspired by Manoj 'Night' Shyamalan attempts (vainly) at writing horror stories. And dreams of being called Arun 'Day' Sundar.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
I read about the falling
Knowing me, from the day I started earning I have been excessively extravagant. As a matter of fact, a stronger adjective than 'excessive' would fit the above sentence better. I always say to myself "There is only one life - I might as well live it the way I like it!" And saying so, I try to master the art of spending and strive to become the 'Lavish Lord of Philadelphia'.
Having said that, I revisit the first paragraph to say "As much as I wish for people's happiness, there must be something I can do to save the economy." That's right.
I spend more and attempt to save the economy.
By virtue of expending more, I'm left with not just a bank balance that's hitting the floor, but also a great mental satisfaction of uplifting the economy (?!). I can explain. The much-needed cash is put into churning the economy. I travel more, I gas up my car more, I buy a lot of clothes, I watch many movies, I buy a lot of electronics. You think I'm doing all these for myself? Not one bit!
All for the economy.
I tell people they should travel more often than they normally do. They should travel by flight and avoid buses and trains. I ask people to periodically change their mobile phones to the latest and expensive ones. I ask people to upgrade their laptops every year. I ask people to stop cooking at home and eat out everyday. I ask them to stop walking and take cabs, even for short commutes.
And by indulging in such activities, people spend more. Because of more money being put to use, more services are needed in turn. More people are employed. More job opportunities. More cash inflow. Increased spending. Increased Rate of exchange. Higher GDP. Saved economy.
My dad always tells my mom "Your son is unbelievably prodigal. He should be more calculative." My mom expectantly replies "Not so true. He is always right. If he does something, there would be some good in it!" I smile.
Being prodigal is indeed a good deed!
Being prodigal is indeed a good deed!
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Continued from here.
Carl thought he saw something moving at the last moment, but he was too scared to turn back. Instead, he started running. Suddenly, something held his legs and he tripped. He fell flat on the floor. His nose hurt. He couldn't breathe with ease. With the heart rate refusing to go below 120 bpm, he looked back at what made him trip and fall.
The carpet edges were worn off and were folded up. Could the carpet have tripped him? He wasn't sure. He quickly got to his foot and raced towards Rachel's room. He switched on the lights and almost called her out, but only to find she wasn't there in the bed. Puzzled and confused, he looked around in the big room. The room was silent and untroubled - he was not sure what he is to do next.
Rachel must have gone to the restroom, he said to himself. Someone touched him at his shoulder. He jerked heavily and almost screamed. But out of reflex, he turned back. Deep inside, he was expecting Rachel. But he was aghast at the sight he saw. It wasn’t her. He choked for a moment and his body started shivering tremendously. What he saw made him gasp for breath. He saw was his own image staring right at him, quite diabolically. He couldn’t believe he is seeing himself standing right in front of him.
He cried out for help, but words wouldn’t come out. He was trembling and the tears were already rolling out of his eyes. He couldn’t process any thoughts. As he was shaking, he felt one more touch at his shoulder from behind. He turned back and this time, it was Rachel. Carl turned back once again, but the image was gone. Rachel asked "Carl, what are you doing here? I thought you were asleep. And why are you crying?" with all concern and mild panic. Carl talked for the first time in the last couple of hours. He said "I'm scared Rach…"
Rachel was about to say something and Aunt Natasha came. "Aren't you kids supposed to be sleeping now? Carl, what happened? Why do you look so pale?" Rachel pitched in "No Aunt Natasha, he was going to the restroom and he tripped. I heard the noise and came to see him. He is ok". Aunt Natasha wasn't convinced, she looked at Carl, who was still trembling "Carl, are you alright?" "I...I should be ok", Carl said. "Ok kids, go back to sleep. This is close to midnight and it’s not healthy to be up!" After Aunt Natasha went, Rachel looked inquiringly yet empathetically at Carl. Carl slowly asked "Can I sleep in your room today?" Rachel nodded without second thought.
Rachel had the reading lights on. Carl could not sleep. He could not understand. Fear was more apparent than anything else. In about 20 minutes, Rachel dozed off. Carl still couldn't sleep. As much as he tried to shut the thought of the image out, he couldn't. He still heard the crackling of the glass windows. He rolled over to lie on his chest, his face buried tight inside the pillows. He heard nothing for 10 seconds. Silence. This is better, he thought.
Suddenly, he felt someone jerking his legs in one fast motion.
He quickly turned over to saw all the lights switched on. Windows and doors were wide open. Not being able to understand a single bit of what's happening, he turned his face to Rachel. Rachel was lying in a pool of blood with her neck split open. There was not a sign of motion. There was no sound. His heart stopped for a moment. He felt like screaming at the top of his voice, but his senses did not cooperate. He felt numb.
He shook and got up from the bed to run towards Aunt Natasha's room. The image appeared behind him, smiled and followed.
Carl did not know it was going to be the longest night he has ever had in his life.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Work is the only known entity, which can make one feel miserable and mirthful, both at the same time, most of the times. As dubious as it sounds, I wonder why I like what I do with fervor. When I step into most meetings at workplace, I feel like a Gladiator stepping into an arena. I have no idea of what might come from which door.
I work in an environment which demands agility, responsiveness and deftness which would otherwise be required only in the Space station building team at NASA. But I don’t work for NASA. And we aren’t building a space station. Yet I strive.
These days, I have started wondering how much of a fit is the verse 'Life comes at you fast' to my life. More surprising is the fact that this statement fits like a charm when the word 'life' is replaced with 'work'.
I'll not be the only person in this world if I say I look forward to vacation desperately. And I'll say exactly this when asked any time of the year, no matter how the days look like. Apparently, seeking vacation seems like a universal birth right.
An average IT professional gets about 2 weeks of vacation an year. At times, I wonder if it'd make one happier when work and vacation switch roles. That is, every year one should be granted about 2 weeks of work and 50 weeks of vacation.
Though hypothetical, would one have enough stuff to do for 50 weeks an year and call all that as part of vacation? Doing nothing in life is as challenging as keeping oneself sane while being busy. I reckon doing nothing has to be one of the toughest things in life.
My imbecile brain invents that humans hate idling as much as they seem to love it. One needs to be occupied in their life. The seek for vacation and the thirst to slug is shallow. Being busy is the solace.
To earn or to learn, one needs the brain to be put to use!
Monday, November 17, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
After a sumptuous meal at Saravana Bhavan, my friend and I decided to get out of the city and go to Long Island beach. As we were passing Queensboro Bridge, I saw the building we used to work and I instantly felt the surge of nostalgia inside me. Without giving much of thought, I took the exit and in minutes, pulled over in front of the building. I found the number of an ex-colleague and called him. He was fortunately still working there and he said he would be more than happy to meet us. He came down to the lobby and we met for coffee. A few minutes later, we called up another colleague and he joined us too. The four of us spent more than an hour, talking nothing but old memories. It was like school-kids talking fondly of their previous years as they grow up.
In a while, I enquired for our ex-boss and one of the colleagues suggested we go up and see her. He signed us in. We went to the 37th floor to meet her. I knocked her office and peeped inside. She was still for a short second and her face lighted up instantly. She enthusiastically screamed and gave me a huge hug. That her scream did make a couple of other folks open their office and check if everything was alright did not bother her. She enquired about my well-being and said she is really happy to see us. She wanted to go out for a smoke. And we all went down - another one hour passed in a jiffy.
Overall, it turned out to be such a wonderful evening. I honestly never knew I would be such a wanted guest at my previous workplace. I have busted my ass off for a good 3 years there and opted out of the place myself, because of fear of career stagnancy. The decision of moving out has been good for me, but to revisit the place for one day was absolutely great! When I stepped into the elevator and walked among the cubicles, it gave me such an inexplicable happiness. I have felt such a strange felicity only once before when I went to my school. Rewinding the days of life is indeed nice!
The other thought that I had, as I was driving back home is the gratitude that Americans show. I know it’s a tad silly to compare Nations in this regard and invoke generalization. Yet, as much as I hate to say this, I have not seen many desi managers who are great vis-à-vis western managers. Maybe it has got to do with the basic instincts or ethos.
My plan of going to the beach was messed up, yet I felt so satiated to have met people from the past. That immediate happiness my ex-boss showed or the excitement my colleagues displayed - I guess I cannot forget for some more days to come.
Rewinding in life does rejuvenate! Big time.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Monday, October 6, 2008
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Friday, October 3, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
And yaa pets...when I see a dog on a leash being walked by somebody and when they come under proximity, a mild tension creeps in uninvitingly. I make all efforts to conceal my fear, or for lack of a better word, restlessness. Yet I resort for a detour. The other day, I saw Chandler saying in 'Friends' sitcom that one can never say what a dog thinks. How true!
Whenever I visit people who own dogs and consider them as more than family members, I make sure that the dog keeps a safe distance from me. Howmuchever they find it difficult to understand, I keep emphasizing 'dogs have to be kept where they should be'. I have a strange feeling that most dogs in this world hate me and somehow or the other, plan on attacking me one day.
One of my friends (while being caressed all over her face by the tongue-lick of whatever-dog-she-has) offers me an explanation. For her, the dog is more than a sibling. The only companion who can identify her. The only comrade who never changes color. The only friend who is loyal, honest and trustworthy. I laugh her out. Considering me, other than the reality that a dog can never talk back, I find nothing spellbinding.
During many of my regular visits to Central park in New york, I have wondered how small a grown-up dog can get and how much of love and affection can it withstand, no matter how small it is. No exaggerations - I have seen dogs smaller than the size of my sneaker. And it is funny when they bark. I laugh at my own joke of imagining telling one of such dog-owners to take the dog out of my way or I might mistakenly stamp on it! As per many of my friends, 'Stamp on it' is considered a blasphemy. Should be 'stamp on him or stamp on her'. It is amazing how much of affinity, love and affections humans show for pets.
And yesterday, the salesman at the guitar shop while talking to me and walking, tripped and fell on the floor. One of the on-lookers mockingly offered a comment that the salesman has the eyes of a cat. He gets up and asks her not to compare him to a cat. Per him, the cats are partially blind. He extends an unsolicited explanation - how his pet (a cat) runs across his living room and the kitchen at lightning speed when there is no need for such a real hurry. And most of the times, he says the cat at such a blinding speed would go bang herself straight on to the door. Not a glass door, not a transparent door - but a plain hard wooden one. BANG! He says he can never explain such a behaviour. One more person joins in saying how his lazy dog would be sleeping in the couch - And all of a sudden, out of the blues, she would toss herself up from the couch and sprint like a lightning.
Such maddeningly-crazy-running-episodes in the house are okay. And so are the annoyingly jarring barks. But there is much more pets can do. As much as they invite incredible love and affection of some people (like these babies do), they lead to the opposite too for others.
Without even their knowledge, pets can easily give one a phobia, one is not born with. Funny. Indeed.
[P.S : Pet lovers, please take this post in the lighter sense, as this is my 150th post!]
Monday, September 22, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
But perceived with the truest of the thoughts, one feels a little untold pride. And the haze of being called a 'loser' fades away in the pride. One personally enjoys whenever people invite for arguments centering on the 'beaten-to-death' topic of drinking Vs abstaining. Such arguments are delightful and that too, it becomes all the more funny when the arguing person’s blood is so filled with ethyl alcohol.
Talking about drinkers, the other day I went out with a couple of friends to a local Italian restaurant. I was having regular coke and they were having wine. As soon as they said the wine is just so perfect for the evening, I added saying Coke is definitely better at that restaurant. They didn’t seem to understand. In fact, for somebody who drinks, it’s hard to appreciate the 'kick' of a non-alcoholic drink. One of my friends, for the sake of argument, asks me for one good reason for me being a teetotaler and I tell her honestly that the pride of not having touched alcohol yet makes one a stronger abstainer.
She could not readily agree, my other friend joined her and both of them were enjoying this 'lets-convince-Arun-today' business than the wine in the first place. I was having equal fun, trying to come up with answers for all the 'otherwise-valid' questions. After some 20 minutes of vain attempt, one of them showed a little frustration and resorted back to the wine. The other joined. For me, the pride sneaked in. I smiled.
I have always been the solo non-alcoholic person in a alcoholic group. I accompany folks to bars/hotels and invariably hog at the side-dishes meant for the drinkers. And as soon as the drinking starts, if any of the guys talk, I keep telling them to stop the gibber-talks. And if one of the guys walks to the restroom, I mockingly warn him not to dance along the way or bang the waiter.
As more alcohol mixes with the blood and as the guys get 'high' by the drink, triggering them to unexpected expressions and ridiculing is what makes me high.
In spite of the sporadic kicks and blows one might receive, such attempts of ridiculing a drunkard is the funniest experience one can feel thru. Not even watching all the seasons of Seinfeld in one shot can come close. Of course the side and the after-effects of the 'puke' episodes would be like interrupting ESPN abruptly and switching to Doordarshan.
Yet, what I missed to figure out was why some women have a strange attraction towards guys who drink. Maybe they mistakenly think drinking has got to do with manliness or something. Or that’s what I assumed.
But a few days ago, a few of my friend were saying that their strategy is to 'go out' with guys who drink, who dance, who smoke and who call them 'babe'. But at the end of it, they settle down for a guy who symbolizes 'chamathu' types. As much as that logic is confusingly stupid, it blurs me as I don’t fall in either of the cults. And all this when I'm not drunk.
I'm sure only women can confuse and increase the thinking time of men. Not even alcohol!
Friday, September 12, 2008
Monday, September 8, 2008
One finds the subject of being busy, as a matter of fact, very immanent. But in the general notion, the definition pertains to one's work. The work, which pays for the bread and butter, which in turn leads to the want of more bread and butter. And when one is occupied with heaps of work, everything else seems to shift to lower gears. The frequency of hectic days spilled with strenuous schedules in crescendo turns one to be habituated to the same.
The journey of 'work for home' to 'work from home' seems fluid. The occasional scream of the US open applauses amidst rallies on the TV does not seem to bother, strangely. The saga of such feverish days makes one a little upstage from an otherwise social life. One finds it difficult to fit the tasks of writing stories or tweeting, in the always-less-than-sufficient 24 hours. Needless to say, the whole befalling leads one to hope for a serene weekend.
Oddly, the thirstily anticipated weekend ends up less placid than the weekdays. And the weekend radar is replete with variegations of flashing laziness by idling away comfortably in the couch, watching TV aimlessly, staring at the clouds from the balcony, listening to music avidly, fiddling with the phone for hours, talking on the phone for minutes and the likes. Some might call exactly this a defined form of relaxation. Yet, one considers doing all these diligently as being busy and absorbed.
However occupied weekends are with aforesaid activities, just to think of Monday morning and the week ahead rapidly throws up a flare of alarm. Life suddenly seems brilliantly mundane. But this seemingly incidental thought is attempted to be hazed under the hoods of being busy.
Yet another week beckons. One teaches oneself the art of being busy.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
I used to hate Rafa for the very fact that he played almost every Grand slam final in the last couple of years. And mostly against Federer, who was incidentally my Fav only after Sampras. Rafa getting to the finals almost became a routine, just like how frustrating it was to watch Venus and Serena play almost all women's grand slam finals. As much as I hated to watch Nadal play, his sheer aggressiveness and the attitude on and off the field made him seem more like a real fighter. Or in better terms, a gladiator. No matter whom he plays against, he makes sure that he doesn't let go that easily. If he gets beaten by a good volley or loses a tough rally, he comes back hard. He approaches the next point with aggression mixed with finesse and wins it, mostly. Just like how Sachin (in top form) goes after the bowler when beaten by one good lucky delivery.
If the opponent is easy, Rafa crushes him, showing little mercy. Over time, Rafa has reached a position where it leaves one in surprise when he makes an unforced error. He strives for perfection and that’s exactly what it takes to be a No.1 player. Federer is more a composed and yet, a compulsive player. As much he is considered to be one of the greatest players in the tennis history, a much younger Rafa is taking over the throne after much of strenuous hard work and discipline. As much as one hated Rafa, it is admiring to observer the way he is climbing up. The very body language of his shows no pressure on winning whatsoever. That is something I have seen in a very few players. Winning seems easy for him.
For the sheer love of the game, one might think 'No matter who wins or loses, the sport is the winner!', but certain players like Rafa redefine. They invariably ascertain what the game is all about. And I love it.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
One afternoon, his mom told him he has to go visit his aunt in Cleveland. Arrangements were already made and his elder sister Rachel is to accompany. His parents called it vacation. Carl hated the very term. He hated Cleveland as much as any place in this world. And he hated his aunt too. And her big house. But he could never refuse to his mom. He looked at the Piano, the only companion he might miss for the next 3 weeks. The kids were about to leave the next morning.
Amtrak left the station at 6.10am sharp. Carl was sitting by the window and Rachel in the aisle. Carl kept staring outside, as the train picked up speed. Rachel sank in to a whole different world her iPod created for her. Carl took his PSP and started playing 'Silent hill origins'. He imbibed himself in the game and before he could realize, they were nearing Cleveland. Carl looked out thru the window and the land was so beautifully covered with snow. Carl has never seen anything even remotely beautiful like this white spread of snow. His attention wholly shifted from the game to the snowfield. The sight made him happy and the very experience of happiness was something he felt for the first time. As he was delighting the sight, he saw a hazy white figure traveling alongside the train.
Unable to figure out what it must be, he was about to ask Rachel, but she was already fast asleep. He looked outside again and the figure started gaining a definitive shape slowly. For a moment, it appeared to him like a flying refrigerator and seconds later, it seemed like a swimming crocodile. In moments, it hazed up again. Carl wasn’t sure if he should continue looking. He was confused, scared and thrilled all at the same time. As he kept looking at the figure, something like eyes appeared in the figure. Carl's heartbeat paced up and suddenly, the figure opened its eyes and looked directly at Carl.
Uncontrollably, Carl almost twitched and that woke Rachel up. She asked if everything is ok. Carl looked outside and the figure wasn't there anymore. He was hesitant to tell Rachel anything, as he was scared that she might think of him as an abnormal kid like everybody else too. He recomposed himself and seemed as if everything is normal. For the rest of the train journey, Carl tried to sit in a skewed position and not to look outside the window. His curiosity still made him look outside every while and then. But he found nothing but vast land of snow-laden meadows.
The train arrived at Cleveland. Their aunt Natasha was already at the station. She received them flaunting her happiness and drove them for an hour to reach her house. Carl did not speak a single sentence in the car journey and he restricted himself to one-word answers to all his aunt's enquiring questions. When they reached the house, the sun was nowhere to be seen. Aunt Natasha's house was an otherwise beautiful one, but the harsh weather and the foggy daylight made it look a little eerie. Or at least Carl felt so. After dinner, Aunt Natasha tucked Carl in and left for her room after a good night kiss.
Carl was too tired to sleep. He was a little scared too. His already existent hatred to vacations was increasing manifold. He got out of the bed and slowly walked to Rachel’s room. He has to pass thru the hallway to reach Rachel’s room.
As he walked, he suddenly heard noise of glass crackling from one of the windows. He stopped to look back, only to find all the windows intact. He waited for a second before proceeding. Uneasy silence prevailed. He started walking and he heard the noise again, this time a couple of notches louder. He stopped. He was sweating already. He looked back and the hallway was as dark as before. No change in the windows or the drapes. The eerie silence continued. He turned and continued walking faster towards Rachel’s room. He thought he saw something moving at the last moment, but he was too scared to turn back and he started running. Suddenly, something held his legs and he tripped...
Friday, August 15, 2008
My boss casually asked me if there is a way to differentiate names of Indian males and females. Her personal experience of embarrassing herself in many a meeting must have prompted her to ask. I thought for a while and told her "Maybe you can understand like this. If a name ends with a vowel, 90% of the times it'd be that of a female. And if not, the name must be of a male". She smiled and said “Oh….that’s easy!” and in 2 seconds she asked "But the guys working at offshore team Hari and Ravi aren’t males? Their names end with vowels" I smiled back and replied "Their full names are Hariharan and Ravichandran. We came up with short ones for you to easily remember and you gotta know that this 'vowels-logic' does not apply for short names" She quickly said "Ohh…ok. I sort of get it now. And I’ll remember that" Appeared like she bought the idea. Good for me. Then, she asked "Hey Arun, what was the new offshore resource you said would be joining us?" I said the name and she inadvertently mispronounced it. No surprise. And I let it go, as most of the Indian names are a little difficult to be pronounced anyways.
One of my other colleagues standing next to me tried to show what a smarty-pants he is. He corrected her by saying how the name should be correctly pronounced. She mispronounced it again and he said “You are wrong. That’s not how the name should be pronounced”. My boss calmly said "Oh, my pronunciation is wrong?! How about the English that you folks speak? Can we talk about that for a while?" I was almost laughing, as I know where this is heading towards. She looked at me and continued "You know Arun, the other day this gentleman here told me that he went to a shop called waaaalmart. I thought this must be a new shop in this area and I told I’ll go check it out sometime. It took more than 5 minutes for me to figure out he was actually talking about Wal-Mart (which she actually pronounced as w-u-a-l-m-a-r-t or to be exact, w-u-a-l-m-a-zh-t)". I know we guys are used to British English and pronunciations in US English are a little different. It was funny how much my boss stressed over the pronunciations of Wal-Mart and other such words.
Of course desis are much better, most can speak decent English. But other Asians amaze me. Especially Chinese people, who get most of their basic education in mandarin (that, if they had their childhood in china), not know a bit of English and still survive in Uncle Sam’s land. Earlier, I used to live in a neighborhood called Flushing in New York and that's almost considered a 'mini china town'. Most of the shops and hoardings will be in Chinese and everything ranging from cuisine to lifestyle would be directly or indirectly related to China. Most of my ex-colleagues would even make fun by asking me if I need a Chinese visa to get into the area. Many a time I have been to shops, where if the shop-keeper sees a Non-Chinese enter, he'll immediately wave both his hands and start 'No English No English' in his own funny way. One can do nothing but smile and step out slowly.
For many days, I thought the old lady in the Chinese eat-out near my house was a little crazy. She always muttered something like "habanadha" whenever I left the place. I thought she was scorning at me, till one of my friends found the secret and told me she was actually wishing me by saying "have a nice day". The old lady indeed was not crazy.
Too many non-English speaking people in an English speaking country make the place a little crazy. That too is funny, if looked at with the right perspective.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Who the hell would get a dream in which one is a school kid and there is a gurkha in the city who abducts kids off for work? And the sequence gets interesting when one gets abducted(almost) by the gurkha. One hides under the bed and the mom lies to the gurkha that no kid exists in the house, but the plot twists when the villainous gurkha spots the kid. The kid sees the gurkha too, gets shit-scared and thinks frantically for an escape. Finding no way to break away, the intensity of tension reaches the apex. And apparently wakes one up and kills the dream altogether. The realisation that one is not a school kid, but a fully grown up 25-year old sinks in. The dufus, that I am took a while to realise the whole happening. All this at 7am. Moments later, one gets a phone call from offshore.
One truly feels gurkha was much better.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
The plate almost would have fallen and broken into pieces, but one sprucely averts such an act at the last moment with some smart juggling act, to end up with the plate being upside down in the hands and whole lot of saadham all over the floor. But hey, the plate was saved. And during the whole episode and holding on to the plates in criss-crossed hands (thanks to the impromptu juggling - seemed like it might take a while to unfold the hands!), one ends up laughing his heart out, as the already confused roommate gets all the more confused not sure whether to help clean the carpet or to cook more rice or to join in the laughter, as such a situation is otherwise considered a repentant one.
Shouldn't one look above and say, "God, yaa You sitting up there, listen carefully - the jelly hands You have blessed me with - first of all, thank you very much for that. And be informed that there is nothing in this world that I have touched and not slipped from my hands. And You better have an answer for every single slip, when I meet you! Alright?"?
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Thanks to her!
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
But if not for 3D, Kabali would recommend the readers to take the journey to the 'Exit' of the theater. Straight.
The one between WALL-E and EVA is the cutest robo-romance can ever get. And one steps out of the movie hall with smile.
WALL-E = Must-see!
is the hero. Length of the movie is the villain. Action pack is the heroine. Technical cinematography is the backbone. If one is a fan of action, this movie is indeed a treat!
(And this is the first movie in my history where I stood in a queue in the NY streets for over half an hour before I could get into the movie theatre. That was a 'Thu'!)
Friday, July 11, 2008
Flights are absolutely boring, irrespective of the crew or the airline or the equipment.
Where the heck is the 'Vittalacharya' technique, when one needs it?!
Monday, June 30, 2008
People are too civilised to be part of crowds. It may not be too long before Lord Balaji moves His hands from 'blessing' pose to His forehead, unable to witness the commotion.
Purpose of the visit gets defeated, when one gives the heaviest sigh of the lifetime on exiting the temple!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Having found that talking impedes sleep, I try to remain as silent a spectator as possible in the call, but folks offshore are smart bums. In the midst of conversations that might put one to sleep even after a strong filter kaapi (let alone half-asleep guy inside the comforter), one of the smarty-pants would suddenly say "Let's hear what Arun has to say!" The dude would make it seem a casual sentence, as if he didn’t sense that I'm dozing off. Me, being the sleepy head would wait for a second or two and see if somebody repeats the question. If not, I'd slightly recompose, clear the throat and ask slowly "What??" If no luck there, I pause and then continue "The phone line is a little noisy. Can somebody repeat the question please?!" The warriors there would feel triumphant that they succeeded in their mission. This has become a daily happening. Almost.
One dull morning, I was woken up earlier than usual by such an offshore call and the '20-min' zone prolonged longer than anticipated. I reach work at 8am and somehow I have this doubt whether the '20-min' is accompanying me at work that day. Or maybe it changed to '200-min' zone. I resort to a large kaapi, for it’s the only fight I can give against these zones. I go to the cafeteria, grab a large kaapi and walk back to my desk. With random thoughts, I open my draw and before I could realize what I did, I saw hot kaapi flowing like a river all over my desk. I actually should appreciate my dumb presence of mind. I kept looking at the flow and wondering at how it started dripping to the floor from the edges. The iPhone, which I had kept at the desk minutes ago, looked at me glowingly. "Shit!" I cursed. The iPhone swiftly went into my trouser pocket. Then I see the Kaapi River moving north. One more "shit" and I lift the laptop and carry it to the other end of the table.
I look back and I saw beautiful kaapi dot patterns. I admire them for a second and I suddenly realize the dots were formed by the kaapi droplets from the laptop. I lift the laptop and see liquid smudges of kaapi. A third loud "Shit!" followed and I ran to the pantry for paper towels. For the first time, the laptop must have wished it had diapers. In less than 15 seconds, I switched the power off, cleaned the laptop and heaved a sigh. Before I could complete the sigh, the landline phone inundated with kaapi caught my attention. Looking at the sight, I truly wished all the electronics of mine had diapers. It took over 10 minutes and 4 trips to the pantry to clean the mess in my desk. The large cup with no kaapi still stood in my desk like an achiever, conveying its power.
Did not need caffeine that day. I was automatically thrown out of sleep zone. And anything in my desk had this sweet aroma of kaapi. The phone, cables, pen, mug - it all smelled caffeine. After a while, I got used to it, but I was able to hear people sniffing their nose hard while passing my cube. In the evening, I waited till the cleaning lady came and I told her the kaapi episode. She assured it'll all be clean the next day. Day 2, I stepped in and I almost turned into a sniffer. After all, it wasn't that bad. I bend down the desk to plug my laptop cable to the power outlet. There you go. A stinker of 2-day old stale kaapi hit me hard. Real hard. I jerked from under the desk blowing my nose like a rocket. Decided I would never bend under the desk for some days now.
And today, I surpass one week after this kaapi episode. I tell my mom and she smilingly says "You always do that!! When you were a kid, you never missed to trip and pour the chutney or the water-glass in restaurants. And no wonder it continues !!"
From the collective experience, though I initially thought to blame it all on the sleep, I understand it is an inherent quality one is born with.
And by the way, did anyone know that kaapi is like wine? It actually gets stronger with time. If any of you have doubts in that, I'd invite you for a quick tour of "Journey under the desk" here at my workplace. Introductory offer. First 10 lucky customers get a ride absolutely free!
Sunday, June 15, 2008
A 15-minute skit would suffice to showcase Kamal's talent. Not a 3-hour movie with blatant Idiotism. Maybe there is an untold notion that a movie will become successful if there is a great guy who is cast in 10 different roles. And that too, just for heck of it. And with some stupid storyline.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Definitely better than the reviews in the dailies! And by the way, who said 'Night Shyamalan' has gone bad?!
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Monday, June 9, 2008
Calculating the velocity may not be the toughest process, but the experiment itself might be. For eg., We can have X pee from the top of a 10-storied building and calculate the time taken for the first droplet to hit the ground. But not that straight forward. We should also consider the stock X is left with, X's urge to pee, the pressure X exerts and ofcourse, the environmental influence.
Complicated calculation, kabali reckons!
Thursday, June 5, 2008
The evening quickly passes. Party ends. Everybody leaves. It is just the two of us now.
My jubilance is unfathomable even to describe in words. I look at the epitome of beauty in her. I wonder if I would need anything else at all from this world. I float in the happiness I have never rejoiced before. A satisfaction I have never felt before. A feel of fulfillment that I have never beleived in. I was going to say something and she starts. She looks a little serious though. I couldn’t make anything out of that look of hers. I get a weird feeling and I ask her if everything’s ok. She suddenly spurts out with all seriousness “What the hell did you think you did today?” With all shock and dismay I ask “what?” I was totally flabbergasted for a moment at her display of anger and her raging countenance. I thought I did something that’s the best I have ever done in my entire life. She continues “You were so confident that I’d agree if you propose in front of everybody, didn’t you?” That left me totally confounded. I thought it all had a happy ending. I pitch in, “Hey, no Priya. It’s not what you think. I have been thinking about this for long and thought I couldn’t find a better day for this than your birthday”. She retaliates, “Don’t be stupid. Do you even have any idea of how embarrassing it was for me? Had it not been you, I’d have said something harsh that the guy would never forget in his life”. She wasn’t aware she told something harsh right then that I can never forget in my life.
I try to keep my heart-rate under control that was already pacing alarmingly for the second time in the day. I compose myself and take my time. I conceive and try to accept the fact as-is. Gaining equanimity, I slowly tell her “Ok Priya. I’m sorry. Maybe I should have discussed with you once in private before doing such a thing” She fires back “What are you sorry for? No point in saying sorry. I cannot believe you did such a thing to me. I thought we were the best friends God has ever created in this planet” I should say it is all too much to hear for me. I don’t have the brain-power to ask her any questions or to agree to what she says. All said and done, she is definitely not happy with what I did. I screwed up big time. That pains. I say “Sorry again Priya” I turn around and walk towards the door.
I would accept if it was anybody else. But not my Priya, I tell myself. I thought I knew and understood her totally. 5 years is still not enough to understand women, I cursed. I honestly thought she liked me too. I never expected her to hit me back this way. Thoughts were raping me mercilessly. Trying hard to keep myself composed, I walk towards my car. I open the car door. And there was a heavy roar of laughter from behind the car. Completely confused, I look beyond the car. There were 5 of Priya’s friends totally laughing out of control. They walk towards me and say almost in unison “Sorry again Priya!” in the tone I just talked to Priya and continue their laughter. As confused as I was, I turn back and I see Priya standing there near the door. She smiles and slowly walks towards me. And she says, ‘Sorry da. You gave me the biggest surprise of my life time during the party. I have never been so happy in my life and I would cherish that moment like a treasure. But then, I wanted to give you a similar unforgettable feeling too. I was discussing with my friends and they gave me this stupid idea. Initially, I wasn’t ok with making you feel bad, but later I thought if I don’t play with you, who else would?!” And she stops. Maybe she expects me to say something.
I take a deep breathe. I see myself being in a state where beleiving anything anymore is a little hard. I for sure know that I can’t take any more emotional roller-coaster ride in a single day. So I slowly start to speak and she immediately interjects “And I love you a lot!”. That apparently brings a blushing smile on to my face. Posing a false anger, I say “Naotanki Saali”(Drama queen) as I usually do and walk inside together with smile on both our faces. As we walk in, I also tell her "And you better get rid of such friends!" And she laughs out. I felt the best moments in my life, twice in a single day.
Not many are as luck as I am!
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
She looks at me and lifts her hands with heavy, yet controlled enthusiasm. I reciprocate and wink. She offers an inviting smile. I slowly walk towards her. I near her and greet with genuine happiness “Happy Birthday Priya!” The most impatient and a naughty creature she is, she immediately asks me what present did I get her. I smile, extend a handshake, a pound hug and give her the present. Opening the gift wrap with bright eyes, she curiously asks “Should I guess?” I say “You may…” And she goes mixed with laughter “Is it the iPod touch I have been asking for long?” I smile. And I casually deny. She continues opening the box. Then she asks “Is it a book or something?” I said “Hmmmm…No”. She then suddenly exclaims “Oh my God! I got it! It should be the Kindle!” I said with a smile, “Nope. Not even close!” She is out of options already. She thoughtfully opens the box and finds a smaller box inside. She takes the box in her hands and looks at me doubtfully. As she examines the box, I swiftly grab it from her hands. By now, almost every eye in the party is on us. I slowly make my move. I open the box, kneel and say “I love you Priya. I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?!”
The room is drop-dead silent. She keeps looking at me. I try to keep my cool in spite of my heart thumping like a thousand drums. Everything freezes for those few seconds. I look at her with all the love in this world. She takes her time. A moment later, she slowly smiles, nods and extends her arms towards mine. She keeps looking at my eyes. I can never forget that wonderful moment. Everything else in this world seemed nothing. After 5 years of friendship, I never thought I’ll do this to her. Her parents have been talking about her wedding for 6 months now. I was not ok with that. Involuntarily, my mind started praying her parents shouldn’t find the right guy for her. Strangely enough, I later found something telling me that maybe I was the guy. After swallowing such thoughts for long enough now and having reached a point where I could no longer handle, I wanted to make it clear this day. And that’s why this whole proposal episode; that too, on her birthday. And as surprising as it was for me, she agrees. By nodding her head, in one second, she made the whole universe seem miniscule.
The evening quickly passes. Party ends. Everybody leaves. It is just the two of us now....
Monday, June 2, 2008
Life is just beautiful!
Saturday, May 31, 2008
The only sitcom where I used to enjoy the feminine gossips, mature humor and of course the discussions on the first word of the sitcom's name, which when pictured as a movie which in turn was thought might be a 'chick-flick' turned to be a pure fun watch.
Sex and the city!
Yup. I like both!
Thursday, May 29, 2008
One wouldn't mind to indulge oneself in tennis 24x7, even if it means half the current remuneration and a career cul de sac!
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
As a language, English has contributed a lot to the people of this planet. And as creatures who can think, people have contributed equally to the language in return. In the first place, the offer from the language was a medium for us to communicate. Once the language was completely formalized and spread to almost all corners of the world, people started jumping from 'Need to communicate' to 'Easy to communicate'. Circa 1992, a group of people met on the very objective of simplifying the language. And simplifying invariably meant shortening the words. Or in other words, screwing the language. They arrived at a chart similar to the periodic elements table found in a chemistry text book, listing all those alphabets which with their phonetics pertain to a word. For e.g., 'c' can be used in lieu of 'see' or 'y' in lieu of 'why', ‘s’ in lieu of ‘yes’, 'b' in lieu of 'be' and hundreds of different such combos.
Fortunately or unfortunately, voluntarily or involuntarily, most of us belong to the consortium established back then. But just that some of us have not completely soaked ourselves in it, while the rest are totally imbibed where I see no chance of retrieval. And this 'shortened' English became widely popular with the advent of mobile phone SMS and web-messenger-chats. People could no longer talk using normal words let alone writing. One would say 'wassup?' instead of 'what’s up?' which was already coined instead of ‘What is up?". Similarly, 'Lemme do dis' or 'Gimme dat' instead of 'Let me do this' or 'Give me that'. And coming to the worst part, some people use the word 'ma' instead of 'my'. That's the crappiest. They would say/write 'ma friend' instead of 'my friend'. While using such 'shortened' words, one truly wonders how much time such Einsteins save. And that too there is not even a shortening. Just a spelling change. Ridiculous, is what one can say, laughing at such idiocy. Maybe they think its making them cool or something. For those of you, who have the habit of using such stupid replacements, please be informed that it’s no more than a torment to read.
I'm sure there will be some 'ultra-intelligent-souls' who might come back and argue that language is used for communication and who cares as to how the words are spelt. Very smart. But then, before using such English, that too in public medium, please make sure the reader/recipient is comfortable deciphering such super-smart-code words. And one of my colleagues so used to this kind of writing, while drafting an official e-mail to the customer includes a sentence which said something like 'I wud b done wid dis tsk in 3 hrs. U ok wid dat?' I was copied in that e-mail. If I were the customer, I'd have simply replied saying 'Please resend this e-mail in English. I don't know Tulu and such languages'. I see many such instances in blog posts too. And I get totally busted by the time I complete reading most of such posts/comments. Maybe the attempt is to ease up the writer's work, but many a time, it leaves a bemused reader behind. And such usage of language, as common as it gets in today's world might totally change the written language one day. Who knows? We might end up with just 17 or 18 alphabets because of those ‘super-lazy-smart-brains’.
So, unable to bear the smear on the language, Kabali proposes a 'Language conservation Programme'. People who belong to this group and who respect this group shall try to communicate in one pure language - be it English or Tamil or whatever. On and off, it's ok for people to jump to other languages for effective communication (after all communication is the goal!), but they are definitely not encouraged to coin their own words and form a new language, whatsoever. Abbreviations such as 'lol' or 'rotfl' are fine, as long as one does not think of doing a whole communication with just such abbreviations. Kabali also considers everyone who has read this post a part of the programme, thereby mandating folks to abide by the rules. If somebody is found violating any of the aforementioned rules, they'd be sentenced to severe punishments as per Kabali's federal law.
Don’t dare! And now join me in saving the language!
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
One might say, all these fundamental values being constant are the only reasons life thrives in this planet. And I said to myself it’s gotta be too coincidental for all of this to have happened naturally. To the extent that humans know, there can't be a more-conducive place in this whole universe than our own earth. But yet again, universe is too big to be scaled by our technology or by our knowledge. For all we know, we might have another galaxy with similar planets like ours and there might still be life. Or even humans. And they may have formed later than us. Or earlier than us. What if that happens?
Monday, May 19, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
One totally wonders at the affairs that single people seek to move their mundane life on. Funny!
Thursday, May 8, 2008
"I'm lean, not lanky
Moody, but not cranky
I'm smart, not cupid
Graceful, but not stupid
I'm tech-inclined, not tech-savvy
Interesting, but not that-weary
I'm selective, not choosy
Energetic, but not boozy
I'm pretty much this, not too complicated
Lets look at you, the most coveted
You are cute, not too hot
sweet, but not too soft
You talk, not maunder
I admire, its no wonder
Your angel-smile, not fake
I fall, its no sudden brake
You pass a single-look, not a stare
I heat up, completely in a flare
Alongside me, you casually jive
Inside myself, I jump and sky-dive
Enough of us, not worth it
Boring, if I dont stop it
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
And my recently-found love:
Click here for some of the first few photos taken in my neighbourhood.
One only wonders how such temporal bliss interposes exuberance into one's life otherwise overwhelmed in modus operandi!
Monday, May 5, 2008
Meera concorded and elders in the family agreed
A baby boy was adopted and Ramesh/Meera were extremely happy
For they contributed to one less number in the Indian population!
Sunday, May 4, 2008
After all, the title of this blog spot can be ridiculed. That, if looked with the rightly skewed perspective. I did so and it made me think maybe this blog should be named as 'Arun Sundar writes'. But still some intelligent soul somewhere might come and ask 'You actually type. You don't write in the blog spots. And it indeed is a little stupid to name your blog so'. I might take one good look at the title. And I might agree. So, I go ahead and change the title to 'Arun Sundar types'. Now, one more Einstein might come and ask 'You are really silly! Why do you have your blog title so? A blog is not a medium to keep typing as if you are practicing your typing skills. The emphasis should be on the thought process and not how you do it!" And as lame as it sounds, I might accept and tell myself 'Yaa this guy makes sense. How could I have titled the blog so? I should come up with something better’ and I think of a nice title. I come up with 'Arun Sundar scribbles'. And for all we know, the reaction might be 'Who in the hell's bathroom scribbles in their blog? You write stupid'. I'm no different than what you expect. I come back and think again to promptly change the title.
After little thinking, the following occur to me, not necessarily in that order: Arun Sundar babbles, Arun Sundar stumbles, Arun Sundar bumbles, Arun Sundar feels, Arun Sundar cries and Arun Sundar is lost! Wait - if I keep thinking like this to name the blog (and end up nowhere), I need to do same amount of thinking (or make people believe so) to come up with blog posts too. And since every other option for title looks a little inept, I might as well name the title 'Arun Sundar thinks'.
I can’t answer better if somebody asks about the title.
Or maybe there are two monkeys in my brain and only one banana. Whatever!
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Thursday, May 1, 2008
I can commute to work from Chennai to Philadelphia daily.
That'd be cool!
[P.S : Just saw this : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gravity_train]
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Being a mobile phone, my life does not get very easy. I remember how I stepped into this world as a baby. I was more like a second brother to Indian brick. And I was considered 'tiny' back then. You all remember the sony Ericcson ad, dont you? And babies are generally supposed to get bigger as they grow. But I grew otherwise. I started becoming smaller and slimmer. People wanted me to be small yet powerful. I grew to a size that a matchbox normally envies. And you being my owner felt pride. I then got colorful. Then I sounded polyphonic. I climbed levels from one to dual sim. I looked at camera. It became part of me. I looked at Television. It became part of me. I looked at computers. I almost became them. Then I provided myself to you in full 'touch' mode. You touched me and I responded. I did not stop there. I wanted to be the 'cool' gadget. I no longer wanted to be an ordinary. I gave myself to you with finger-scrolling and efficient browsing. I did want you to get lost. I provided navigation.
I do have features now. But more than the features, my contribution to this world and the society is what gives me the 'feel good' factor. Makes me take pride in what I do daily. Let’s consider some examples: We have this girl who makes one wonder if she has earned her master's degree in typing using the mobile keypad. Her eyes would be completely affixed on the screen in the movie theatre, but her hands still typing at rocket speed. And there would be no single mistake. I wonder if they type even when they are asleep. Maybe they do. Next, there are these auto drivers and cabbies, who always have a hands-free wire hanging from their ears that travels to somewhere inside their shirt. No matter whether they talk or not. The wire is the key; they just can't get rid of it. If they start talking, they never stop. At times, I even wonder if they work for a BPO, in addition to driving cabs.
And then there are these 'techy' guys who keep browsing using me, no matter whether they are crossing a busy road or smoking or having coffee or even eating dinner. They keep browsing if even somebody is talking to them. They don't browse only when they are bathing and doing three other things (you all know what). And there are these dads, who simply take pride for achieving tasks like adding a new contact or sending an sms successfully. They would simply talk about it for days to come. Or exhibit their skills to uncles of their age-group. They wouldn't stop until the visiting uncles appreciate in awe. And finally there are moms who would use me for nothing more than attending calls. They wouldn't even pick me up and dial a number. They are so used to the landline phones that they find me 'too small' or 'too technically complicated'. They can use a TV remote control with effortless ease, but not me.
In addition, there is this one guy whom I should really talk about: This guy bought his first cell phone while he was in college. When everybody was addressing me as a 'Cell Phone', he called me a 'Mobile'. He after all wanted to differentiate me from the big-old cordless phone he had in his home. I just can't count the number of times he fought thru me with his girl-friends. And he would come straight to me, when he wanted to pacify with them. Poor soul he was. And I was there for him, whenever his parents were around at home, which means he can’t use the landline phone. He would take me to the terrace and make all secret calls. I never told anybody all this.
He grew up. He got a job. He wanted a better me. He bought a smart phone. This is when he used me more than for what I was created. I should say he literally fucked me. He called it 'Customizing me'. There was not a single symbian software that was left out, which did not sit on me. Apart from all this, he used me for calls for at least 5 hrs a day on the average. Thanks to what they call as 'Closed User Group' and those people who were as jobless as him, there was nothing that could stop him. I got a little wild and started heating up. I wanted that idiot's ears burned up one day. I thought that would slow him down. But he switched to a blue tooth headset. My usage did not decrease though.
After two long years, he decided he would say good bye to Symbian and move to Windows mobile. That’s when the 'current me' came to his hands. And if I said that he fucked the previous phone, I should say he rapes me on a daily basis. At times, on an hourly basis. And his usage has increased to the extent that he even types blogposts using me - like this one. He needs me to remind him as to what needs to be done when. He needs me to wake him up in the morning. And promptlly intimate me whenever somebody sends him an e-mail. And I need to remind him when he needs to pay bills, call somebody for their b’day. Simply speaking, he needs to be told what to be done when. And he needs me to tell him directions when he drives.
And in spite of all the different forms I have taken and all the physical hurts I have withstood bcoz of his super-rough handling, my relationship with him has lasted for over 5 long happy years now. And today, we have reached a juncture where he would be totally handicapped if I get away from him, even for a day. Like most of you reading this, he has made myself more than a part of his life. I have reached a stage where I have become an inevitable part of most human's life. It does make me proud at times in the movie theatre when they roll courtesy announcements asking people to switch their cell phones off. This is a privilege no other gadgets receive! I sure can spoil the movie-watching experience, can’t I? The same applies to official meetings or at temples or even at hospitals. I do turn to be annoying at times as much as I am a utilitarian. But nevertheless, I'm more than a friend to human.
And you and me, we have a long way to go!
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
One starts a software life totally excited,
Does work and slogs completely satisfied,
Mental fatigue and confusion pitches in uninvited,
Retirement mixed with weariness invites earlier than expected!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Friday, April 11, 2008
Dont look at the title like that. Thats how some thamizhians speak. They utter a word and closely follow it with another word, which absolutely rhymes with the first word, but never makes any sense. For eg., one might say "Kavidha Gividha ezhudhariyaa??" The second word in this sentence gives no meaning either in the sentence or stand-alone. But people still say it. There are many such examples - "love'vu givv'vu pannida poraa!" and then "phone gheene panna vendiyadhu dhaaney?!" and then "MBA Gim'BA padikkalaam'la?". I wonder if there would be an explanation for such a behaviour.
In English when people speak they might use something called as fillers in the sentences. Words such as "like", "You know" go as right examples. One might say "I was driving last night and there was this....errr....like....you know.....a small robin on the road". Such fillers are used to fill the time-gap between the brain finding out the right word and uttering it. It is something like a "Sorry for the Interruption" message that used to appear in Doordarshan TV channel those days, before "Over to Delhi" message. These fillers in english language can also be thought of as an avenue to buy some time before the brain finds the right word to utter in the right place. I think a similar filler logic would have caused this rhyming-nonsensical words in thamizh too.
On a different note, Thamizhians in those days used to converse using poems and songs. A dude would say "Kanne shaanthaa, Un idai azhagum, kayal vizhiyum ennai kavargirathu. Vaa, ennodu. Selvom veru naadu" And shaantha would reply "Naadha, thangal sitham en bhagyam. Selvom. Velvom". One would obviously notice the rhyming words that props up in the sentences every now and then. As years passed, the dialects slowly changed. People slowly brought in colloquial usage of words. They got rid of "Naadha, Kanne, sitham, bhagyam", etc., They resorted to more of what we are used to these days. Today, a guy would say something like "Hey, sooper'a irukka nee. Odi polaam variyaa?" and Shaantha would reply "Unakku ok'na enakkum ok dhaan. Polaam". This can be considered normal and contemporary. But there are some folks who could not get over those kavidhai-kalandha thamizh. They somehow wanted to sneek rhyming words in between. And such folks would exchange conversations(in the same context as before) like "Hey, azhagaa irukka. Odi Geedi polaama'nu thonudhu!!" and Shaantha would reply "Poi gei sollaliyae nee? Seri polaam vaa". They actually don't care if the rhyming word makes any sense.
Coming back to the title, the rhyming-nonsensical words shuld have originated either from the fillers in other languages or from "kavidhai" usage in our own langauge. Forgetting the root cause(who cares after all!), the idea of this analysis came to me during one of the meetings yesterday. My Delivery Manager was discussing about one of the super-smart client employees and how careful one needs to be with him. As he was talking he said "We have to make sure he doesn't go and say something to Cindy Guindy!". Cindy is the director here, but I dont know who that Guindy was. I later found out that the delivery manager is a thamizhian too and he is so used to rhyming-nonsensical words that he cant refrain from uttering them while speaking in English too. I sort of tried very hard to control myself and not to laugh on his face in the meeting, as the word "Guindy" kept repeating itself in my mind. Funny fellow! He wasn't even aware that he uttered such a non-sense and kept speaking strategy so seriously.
A great philosopher once said,
"Every single person in this world is a joker in themselves. One has to look at them with the right perspective to laugh at!"