City of Mumbai – my first impressions!

After having lived for exactly a week in Mumbai, one lets go of the inertia to write the blogpost about one’s first experiences of the city. Though I got a mix of clearly stated warnings from a few people and exaggerated hype from the others before I moved in, I feel the city has a good combination of both!

My first impression on the city is how the rich and poor co-exist so beautifully. If I consider other cities, Chennai for example, you’ll never see a hut right next to a bungalow with a Volkswagen Passat. But in Mumbai, you see exactly that, over and over again. There could be a 25 storeybuilding with a few BMWs and Mercs parked inside, but they have to pass through the slum to get in to the building. Most high rise buildings have grand views of impoverished slums.

And it seems like a common situation to not have parking space in the building one resides in. I see Honda Accords and Toyota Corollas parked anadhaya on the roads in the night. Once again, this is something that startles a resident of Chennai, where even a Maruti 800 is ducked inside the compound wall through a gate meant for two-wheelers!

As the fiancé nicely puts it, the co-existence of rich and poor in the city gives the rich a humble approach to life and the poor a growing aspiration. Maybe she is right!

Next thing I observed is the traffic pattern. I hear Mumbai built over 50 flyovers in just 2 years early last decade. Talking about bridges/flyovers, there is one toll booth to get on the Vashi bridge that I take daily. Though the toll operation is completely manual, it is faster than even fully automated EZ Passes in the US. Cars here hardly stop at this toll, they just slow down and in one split second, the exchange of the money for the toll receipt happens and the cars speed away. I have tried both - giving the exact money or expecting change. It just works perfectly.

All one has to do is to stick one’s hands out to display the cash he is to pay while entering the toll. Rest is taken care of by the robotic arms of the toll booth guy (and the helper who stands outside, almost on the road). The transaction is complete before you know it! I just think it’s fantastic and silently wish tolls in OMR Chennai are at least half as fast!

And the traffic regulations implemented in the city are just awesome. Especially I love rules such as Auto-rickshaws not being allowed to certain parts of the city and two-wheelers not being allowed on certain freeways/flyovers. I think it greatly helps to organize the flow of traffic.

Maybe I drive against the traffic since we reside in South Bombay and I drive towards Navi Mumbai. But I think the traffic flow is slightly better than other cities in India. Also, I see far less two-wheelers in the city than other cities. I am still to find the probable reason for this.

Another thing I found very fascinating is the night life in the city. On weekdays, the city goes to sleep only after midnight and during weekendsI suspect the city never sleeps. Most high end restaurants are open till 1 or 2am and even malls are open till midnight. There was bumper to bumper traffic at 2am when we came home after a late night dinner at Colaba last Saturday. It only reminds me of life in NYC!

With the business centric minds of Mumbaiites, they go to a good extent to create value for customers in every single business avenue they venture into. Most shops deliver pretty much everything from breakfast dosas to vegetables to batteries to milk. People in general are very nice – be it while giving directions or while assisting in parking a car in the apartment. They are so nice that even terrible Hindi does not deter themfrom helping (yours truly’s first-hand experience!)

Just like every city, Mumbai might have its darker side and I’m probably not exposed to it yet. I truly wish impressions remain the same. And though it’s very early, except for some initial blues, I’m slowly starting to like the city. But will I ever get comfortable here to call this placeHome, only time will tell.

My tryst with the photographer!

I recently got engaged to the most beautiful girl in the world (yeah yeah, hate the game, not the player!). I had a very good time as part of the engagement function. Though I was a little speculative about this whole Hindu Engagement ceremony, I actually sort of enjoyed all the attention I got.

After the priest declared us engaged, with the kind of attention we were receiving, I wondered if we just achieved something that human kind has never achieved before. I was able to witness our guests becoming happier than us. The way we were wished by people, for a second, made me wonder if we got married already. The photographer was having a tough time trying to frame us all with at least one person not showing their back to the camera. The videographer laid two chairs and three stools, one on top of the other and balanced on one foot, just to get a glimpse of what the hell was going on.

Talking about photography, I know it’s all done for the remembrance sake. But should the groom definitely be smiling with his tooth shown always? During the initial photo shoot, after the first two pictures (where I thought I smiled my best smile by the way), the photographer gently asked me if I can smile a little more. I tried, this time, seeming like a guy who is happy that he is finally getting engaged. Photographer wasn't satisfied. He said ‘innum konjam saar’ ('little more sir'). I slightly got impatient and thinking of being a wise-guy, I mockingly showed my teeth and smiled. He said ‘avlo dhaan saar, hero maadhiri irukkeenga!’ ('thats it sir, you like a hero now!’). I had a brief Vivek’s "this piece?????!" moment and the photographer kept taking a few thousand shots. I wasn't sure if my attempted joke became one on myself or if I truly looked like my photographer's hero. When I came back to senses after being temporarily blinded from the zillion watts flash, I asked him to show me the photographs, which were not too bad after all.

Realizing I had to maintain the smile for the entire evening, (not that I had a choice, as the photographer was very conscious of how my smile varied with time - he must have had a mental graph with smile on Y-axis and time on X-axis!), I continued to do so effortlessly. After a few photographs, I slowly felt a pain in my jaws and realized it was not all that easy to fake a smile. To add to the complexity, my facial components are wired in such a way that if I maintain a fake smile for prolonged time, my eyes tend to close automatically. Awesome. Now the photographer got something else to point to. He said 'saar, kanna moodaatheenga saar' (‘sir, please don’t close your eyes, sir’). I nodded, made sure my eyes are wide open and continued the shoot. In a few seconds, my smile faded away. He stopped and pointed that my smile is missing. I realized, got back my signature smile and he fired a few shots, then requested to me not to close my eyes. My face did not seem to get the hang of the process.

Like a scientist, he suddenly exclaimed 'saar, neenga nallaa sirichaa unga kannu moodikkuthu saar! (‘If you smile hard, your eyes close automatically sir’). As a resort, I explained and later pleaded to the photographer about the "smile-eye" coordination problem I'm blessed with. He innovatively thought of a '1-2-3-ready' technique to make sure my eyes are open and the smile is retained at least for that one split second when the camera shutter opens.

That sort of helped, but not for long. The problem grew further when the bride joined. She knew what kind of a monkey face I can become while facing the camera (compare to behind being one). My open-smile-closed-eye-closed-smile-open-eye syndrome continued for a little while and the pressure was building, as the girl was quite comfortable smiling away to glory. The photographer can't help but compare me to her. He politely said 'avangala paarunga saar, andha maadhiri siringa saar' (‘ook at her sir, try to smile like her sir’). I looked at her. I know she has a Colgate smile and I would look like a happy buffalo if I tried that. I laughed aloud, almost uncontrollably. Looking at all the drama, she joined too. Photographer took that as a good opportunity and fired a few shots. He was either satisfied by then or I got better with time or he felt I was totally hopeless; he never complained about my smile that evening!

But I am definitely looking forward to working with him during my wedding, even if he is not.

Humans and their idioms!

Today, in a meeting at work, I heard one of my collegues say 'To kill two birds in one stone'. Though I have heard it a million times, this time it made thinking. It occured to me what if birds start to think in the same lines about humans, such as 'to hit two human heads in one shit drop' or something like that. I smiled to myself gently and started listening to whatever was then the active conversation. At the back of my mind 'hit two heads in one shit drop' kept lingering on, as if it needed to be extended to other such creative imaginations or at least a blogpost.

Then I started thinking about random phrases people say without thinking of the subject involved in the phrase. Humans give themselves the right to write idioms about all random things on earth without asking anyone about it. They just gain undefined superiority over everything.

I guess the human race would understand only when other creatures start writing idioms about them. For example, a pet dog saying 'a screaming human seldom beats'. Or a little bird saying 'an early head gets the shit' or 'a head in sight is worth two in the house' might teach them a lesson or two.

But who knows if they already do in their own language! But one thing I'm pretty sure is that they don't drag everything they see on sight to write idioms, unlike Humans. Sun never says stuff like 'Make sunstroke while the dude walks' or the daylight does not say 'beat the living tubelights out of him' or the mud does not say 'as clear as man'.

There absolutely is no point in creating analogies using idioms. As if the way people formed languages and words in languages is not enough, they went a step ahead and started thinking of such idioms too.

The kind of stuff humans do with their brains, Gods like Me can never fathom!

Communication - thru characteristic facts!

As I was drinking my Pepsi during lunch, I looked at the tin and read the Calorie/Nutrition contents. It said calories:155 per container. It made me ponder a little about the Nutrition facts. There is not a single packed food item one could see in this country that does not come with the Nutrition facts. The reason must be the FDA regulations. Even Haldiram's Rasgulla tin, though packed in India, comes printed with the Nutrition facts.

It does give a very good insight into what kind of food one is dealing with. It helps one to understand a food or drink better before consuming it. It would be so nice if we get such an insight into people we interact with too.

One would assume it's an awesome idea to stamp people's foreheads with their 'Characteristic Facts'. It would certainly be nice to know one's fat and cholestrol content just by looking at them. Or perhaps their blood pressure rate and heart beat rate to judge their endurance before you say something stupid.

One can also be a little more creative and customize the 'Facts' differently for Men and Women. Men could have itemized information such as 'Potato chips Saturation Limit', 'TV endurance Level' or 'Sex craving limit' and women could have 'Shopping Spree Sensation', 'Footwear fantasy' or 'Weight consiousness limit'. Of course, all these in addition to the basic information. With all such collective information, one can stay away from people who seem complete nutcases. Or perhaps approach some with more ease.

This, if properly followed, I humbly think, would become a great leap in the field of effective human communication!

Nearest Exit

Couple of days ago, I was on my flight from Phoenix to Philadelphia. As the flight attendant announced the mandatory safety instructions, I was wondering what the real purpose of those instructions were, as not a single passenger to my knowledge cared to listen with the seriousness with which the instructions were given.

It occured to me that most passengers in the flight would have heard those safety instructions probably a million times before. Made me thinking why even announce when people seldom care. Such instructions would be helpful only for first time travellers or those with selective amnesia. But in a local flight in the US, I doubt how many of them could there be.

For flights operating in third world countries, I understand the need for such instructions (I remember how I stopped everything I was doing and listened to the instructions the first time I travelled from India). For most other countries, I think its a simple waste of time. One could agree and say that the airlines could possibly use the time to start serving the food a little early or on a red-eye, switch the damn lights off so that people could doze off.

Or we would know only when there is an emergency and when people scurry around to find the nearest exit! That would be fun to watch.

Baseball World series!

I was having a light phone conversation with a desi friend who lives in New York. He was watching Phillies vs Yankees baseball match on tv and as Phillies was on the verge of winning, he said something that a typical yankee fan would say when their team lose. I laughed at his reaction and said "okay!!! what difference is it going to make to us as to who wins these games anyways?"

He patriotically replied "Hey, I'm a yankee!". I laughed again and said "He! don't talk like a local" for which he replied "Yeah! I have lived in New york for about 5 years now!". I asked him "So, that makes you a die-hard fan of yankees, huh?! Its like when my friend asked all the H1s and F1s to control their emotions when they were talking too much about Obama and US elections. He asked them 'do any of you have voting rights here? Then shut up!"

My New york friend laughed at this and said "Baseball fascinates me, I even have a baseball glove in my house". I smiled, he continued "knowledge of baseball helps me have intelligent conversations at work". I agreed.

But this whole drama behind the Phillies victories in the world series is completely incredible. Most local tv channels mention Phillies at least once an hour, there is no single FM radio channel that does not talk about Phillies world series win. Wait a minute, did I say 'world series'? Shouldn't 'world' mean 'all countries'? The first time I heard the term 'world series', with my poor knowledge of baseball then (as much as I knew India doesn't play the game), I thought at least European nations paticipate in such series. Later I found out that only US states participate or even better, only US cities participate. Fantastic.

I'm not against the game, but the whole concept of having about 30 teams or so (all within US and a team from Canada) and then calling it a 'world series' is a little funny. Calling it 'National series' or 'American Championship', etc., would be a little apt. Though I hear that there are other countries that play baseball, they don't participate in such 'world series' making the whole term and American nomenclature debatable.

Nevertheless, I respect the enthusiasm and the fanfare behind the game. Living in the Philadelphia area, there has been so much going on because of recent Phillies sequence of victories. People come dressed in red most of the days to work and the HR gladly welcomes it. They even recommend every employee to sport a red phillies attire on friday and if one is not a fan, they say its a shame! Well well!

Getting acclimatized...a little too much!

Uncle sam's land seemingly influences some of their inherent traits to immigrants so effortlessly, even without one's apparent realization. I see this happen mostly to students/IT professionals, because they seem to interact with more Americans in a day than with desis.

I did not have this habit to saying 'You too' for many things when I was back in India. But this country has taught me enough to do so at least a good 10 times a day. This has become a habit, making me say it, even when not completely necessary.

Couple of months ago, as I was boarding a flight, the flight attendant, looked at my boarding pass and said 'You seat is on the left aisle sir'. I said 'Thank you'. She then added "Have a good flight sir'. I instantaneously said 'you too'. She gave a blank and a puzzled look. I moved on without looking back, feeling slightly stupid.

The other day, during my visit to a temple nearby, the priest offered me the 'crown of blessing' (or satari if you will) and mildly said 'Aayushmaanbhava'. Instantaneously I said 'you too!' He gave me the weirdest of looks, as if to ask 'are you ok?'. I shamelessly smiled back, realizing what a douchebag I was. He muttered something that appeared to me like 'hopeless!' and moved on.

The western traits seem to catch on desis after a prolonged stay in this place (in some cases after about a month or so). And where else is this evident if not in desi temples?! A visit to a desi temple in Uncle sam's land has always made me come home with a tinge of self-smiling humour. The various people I see, the way things are organized, the discipline people exhibit and of all, the priests themselves!

Most priests, either because they stay here for a long time or because they interact with 'American-turned-Desis' way too much, get acclimitized to the US culture so well. They tend do demonstrate some characteristics which one wouldn't get to see otherwise.

The other day, at a temple nearby, an old priest (who looked like he hailed from kumbakonam) asked me, "how you doin'?"

I said "Fine, how are you?".

He answered, "I'm good!".

I doubt if he would have cared as to how I did, if we both met in kumbakonam.

Later, when he distributed prasadham, he asked the person next to me "Are you good or you need more?" That seemed indigeniously American to me. After a while, as I was doing my pradhakshanam, I overheard two young priests talking enthusiastically about Yahoo-Microsoft merger and how it affected their stock prices. wow, I thought.

It's interesting to see how people catch up on local culture and get used to the land. Not that there is anything wrong about it, it just seems a little funny when the 'getting used to' part becomes a little too much at times!

Calling Names...

Today at one of the meetings at work, I heard somebody on the phone say a name called 'Shaayaamaala'. She seemed to be our client contact and soon everybody started calling her 'Shaayaamaala'. About 10 minutes into the meeting, somebody uttered her name once again and I had a sudden realisation that the person's name could actually be 'shyamala'. It never occurred to me that it could be an Indian name. As I was secretly laughing at the discovery, my super-smart project manager called her 'Shaayaalaama'. God help the names!

The way people named themselved and places must have gone through some complicated algorithms somewhere in the past. It can't be this tough for people of one geography to clearly say the name of someone from a different geography.

One of the my collegues (a desi who got his citizenship in this country recently) said that he is going to 'kali-fornia' that upcoming weekend. I asked myself 'really???!!'. I know people can screw-up certain names because of their cultural differences and language problems. But someone who has lived in this country for a long time should be able to say 'California' pretty neatly. I have never understood the logic behind people mispronouncing 'California'. But atleast I guess it's better than those middle aged desis who call it 'kali-porn-ia'!

One can argue that being a proper noun, names of people and places can be called however one likes to. But thats just plain stupid. This basic cultural difference can go a long way, I still get a hearty laughter when I think of this Cindy-Guindy episode and habanadha episode. Language is a great source of humour I think.

Nevertheless, I like blogging more than ever these days. The more meetings I attend at work, more thoughts I get. I'm telling you - people are so funny!

Question against advice...

I have always had this question in my mind. How will one not wasting food at one place help hungry people starving in Africa? It would make sense if we cook less food in the first place leading to decreased consumption or even better, donating/contributing food/money to suffering people. Wasting cooked food makes no difference to African people, other than reflecting a poor attitude.

P.s: I hate wasting food myself - this post is not aimed at supporting 'food wastage', but the plain idiocy of comparing it to povery elsewhere.

Laugh'aholic!

I was at one of those otherwise dull meetings at work this morning. Today, unusually, the whole environment was sort of active. People were smiling and talks about baseball and what not! There was a lighter conversation and I said something that was slightly funny. The lady next to me churned an explosive laughter that rocked the whole room. I was almost thrown out of my chair.

She continued nevertheless. And more I said anything, she only laughed more. I wasn't sure if she was mocking, but I didn't drill into that thought-process, for obvious selfish reasons. She was definitely LOUD. The other people in the room joined, some cracking more jokes, some laughing uncontrollably and at one point, I even doubted if there was laughing gas being sprayed from the AC vent.

I was almost sure that some people were laughing by just looking at other people laugh. When I come to think about it, it is indeed funny to just look at some people laugh.

I have a friend who starts to sing when she laughs. She'll laugh to her heart's content and then when she is done (when her brain no longer sends the signal to laugh), she'll try to prolong that laughing sound, as if she wouldn't want to stop. It'll seem like she's singing the final verses of a song without knowing the lyrics, yet with high enthusiasm.

One of my friends in college used to look fairly skinny, but when you make her laugh, you'll be surprised at how such a high frequency laughter could come out of such a small body. At times, I wonder if her high-pitched laughter would make one regret cracking a joke in the first place.

Some people burst the first laughter out and then continue it silently, as if they were almost slightly embarrassed of the burst. Some people laugh which might sound as if they sneezed.

In general, I have an unclear feeling that there is a stronger association between fat people and noisy laughter. The other day, I was watching an episode of 'Deal or No deal' (a TV game show) in NBC and a hyper-actively-enthusiastic-cant-control-her-emotions participant (a fat lady) got excited for every single box she opened that the host of the show almost had to close his ears (mockingly of course). I had to lower the TV volume atleast 10 times during the show.

As much as its exciting to get the the joke, at times, one can just look at people who already got the joke and still laugh their heart out.

Laughter, well...I'm telling you...in itself is funny!

Cell phone driving - What's your IQ?!

This afternoon, I was driving back to work from lunch and I was talking on cell phone. No hands-free, no speaker phone. Regular hand held style. State-law here restricts usage of hand-held phones while driving. I saw a cop in distance and immediately switched to speaker phone.

A strange thought occured to Kabali. He has been driving cars for about 6 years now. He loves driving so much and believes strongly if one loves to do an activity, one performs well in that field. Also, because of cell phone driving, he has never committed any mistakes such as having the car shift lanes without control nor run over the curb nor miss a traffic light.

But not all people may be good at such multi-tasking. Some people do screw up. It was mentioned in the web somewhere that more than 30% of accidents in the UK last year were due to cell phone driving.

Kabali's argument is that the IQ level of such people must be quite low. Yes, IQ level!

Here is his recommendation: When a cop pulls over, he should conduct a quick IQ test on the driver. If the IQ level is good enough, the cop could conclude that the person is capable of multi-tasking without any problems and should let the driver go. If the IQ level is low, then he can issue a violation ticket for cell phone driving.

I'm basing the argument on the logic that every single human being is different and that their capability on doing different things vary too. Having said that, I don't understand how the law and order can be so generalised. Atleast in areas where it could be customized for people, it should be.

Kabali honestly thinks so.

How Blogging is like sex?

Beware: PG13.

Blogging can be directly compared to only one aspect of real life - Sex after marriage. I‘m 98.9986978% sure.

When one starts to blog, the inexplicable happiness of expressing and sharing would make one want to write more. Writing good blogposts would make one a delightful person, because of the ‘happiness partaking’ that happens. Like the sex after marriage.

In the early days of blogging, one would want to write a minimum of one blogpost a day or at times even multiple posts a day. Most times, all one would think of is to do nothing but write a blogpost. Like the sex after marriage.

But things don’t seem to remain the same. The priorities change, interests shift and thoughts drift. The frequency of blogpost falls with time. The number reduces from one post a day to one post a week, then to once a month and eventually to 'maybe I should visit my blog and see how it looks'. Like the sex after marriage.

The author is not smart enough to experience the above phenomena yet. But he is smart enough to think!

Update: After the last post, I got a new camera and did a super cool trip this weekend. I'm feeling happy!

What I didn't want to happen...

Last saturday, for the first time in this country, I felt deprived. There are certain incidents in life that we hear about, but it never bothers us because we'll be certain that it'll never happen to us. But apparently, at times, it does.

As a welcome break from the winter, the recent weeks have been bright and sunny. Past saturday was no exception. I set off to Longwood gardens with Kavitha, had a great time clicking pictures of tulips and lillies in the 1200 acres of garden land. Some of the photos turned out quite well, made me one real glad dude.

I had planned to end the day watching the movie 'Soloist'. There I was at King of Prussia mall movie theatre for the 7.30pm show. Movie was very good. I came out of the theatre at around 9.40pm laughing away and cracking jokes, only to see glass pieces strewn around the sides of my car. A chill ran down my spine.

I rushed to the car and found that my rear window was broken open. My backpack with the camera was not seen. My heart almost stopped. My camera being taken away is the last thing I wished in my life. And there it had happened - I could do nothing. I felt a strange fear. And my friend's laptop bag was missing too (not with laptop, but with books et al).

I immediately called 911. Ten minutes later, a cop arrived, enquired about the theft, asked some basic questions, prepared a police report and gave it to me.

I asked her about the odds of getting my stuff back. She calmly replied that the closest surveilence camera was quite far from the place I parked my car and that it rotates, creating abundant blind spots. Also, such thefts happen in less than 30 seconds, making it impossible to capture clear evidence in the surveilence camera. In my mind, the answer translated to a 'You wont get the camera back'. That, from a cop in the second largest mall in US.

Of all my gadgets, there are two things I love the most - my camera and my phone. I would have given most of what I have to get my camera back. But at times, life appears to hit hard. Very hard. Along with the camera, I also lost my bluetooth headset (a gift), my iphone earphones, work ID card and such day-today stuffs. Hearty good bye to all of them.

I have applied for claim through my renter's insurance and hope I get some money back - keeping my fingers crossed.

And in parallel, I'm researching for my next camera, hopefully a better one! And I promise to myself that I'll never keep bags visible in my car.

All said and done, I just cant forget this day that easily. Life seems bitterly unfair.

Update: Couple of weeks later, I got a new camera and did a super cool trip this weekend. I'm feeling happy!

An episode at the hospital!

Falling sick is the last thing one wants. And visiting a Doctor is the thing after the last thing one wants. And if the doctor carries a injection, thats the thing after the thing after the last thing one wants. Ok, you get the idea.

Last week I was down with cold and fever for a good 5 days. What started as a mild cold graduated itself into a matured cough-attack which then blossomed into a solid flue-stint and then stagnated itself showing no signs of growth nor exit. 

"I'm a survivor" I said to myself and fought the germs. Evenings they would seem to subside and as I feel better and sleep, they attack with full blow. Those germ bastards.

Attempting to work from (not for) home did not offer the solution. Sleeping in the bed for hours together (alone!) did not help either. For a guy who normally says "Aeemm, I'll rough it out", this fever seemed one of its kind.

I realized I was fighting a losing battle and decided to go see a Doctor (inspite of a well-wishing friend who warned that the doctor most likely say 'It's nothing. Go home and take rest. You'll be fine').

Being somebody who hates appointments (and the gargantuan wait time associated with it), I walked into the Emergency care center at a hospital right next to my apartment. After registering my name, I waited in the reception area for about 20 minutes. I was then ushered into one of the emergency rooms and made to sit in a stretcher. 

A nurse stopped by and asked me 'what do we have here, sir?'. I said 'I have fever and cold that wouldn't subside'. She asked 'Anything else?'. I said 'No'. She asked  'Are you sure? do you have breathing problems or any such emergency?'. I said 'No'. She looked at me a for a moment, as if she was going to ask 'why the hell did you come to ER then?!'. Instead, she said 'A doctor will come and see you shortly sir', and disappeared.

Two hours passed by. Before I fainted with a mixed feeling of hunger, tiredness and angst, an old doctor entered the room saying 'Hi'. I returned the pleasantry. "So, what brings you here today?!", asked the doctor. I offered the same reply for the third time. 'Just fever?', 'Yes'. 'Okay' said the doctor and got into action.

He took a torch with a pointed lens and he inserted that into my ears to see what's happening inside. He jerked out immediately saying he can't see much, but as far as he can see, I was all clear. He moved to the next ear. This time, he did not even enter - he slowly said 'Interesting!'

'What?', I asked. "On the outside rim of your ear, you have a pimple. We need to get rid of that first" said the doctor and walked out. Before I could realise, he came back with a small injection. I freaked out. He understood and said 'No, dont worry - it'll be a small prick'. Knowing that's the universal doctor's language of saying 'you are gonna be punctured dude!', I said 'I hate injections doctor, should we do this now?!'.

'Oh definitely' he replied as readied himself with the torch light and the injection weapon. I closed my fist and my eyes as tight as I could and expected a prick. One hell of a prick it was. I screamed mildly and thought it was done. The doctor attempted again and 'bang!', another prick. I almost called him names, when the doctor mildly said 'whatever is in there doesn't want to let go that easily'. So are you, I thought. 

He then threw the injection into the trash and I saw blood on his hands. F*ck! "Is that my blood?' I asked the doctor. He replied 'yes, but don't worry. I'll go get some bandage' and gave me some cotton to try and hold the blood. My fever was long gone.

Doctor came back with a bandage and put it across my ears as he said 'a slightly awkward place for a band-aid, ain't it?!' He laughed. Damn your humour, I thought. He then said 'your fever is a minor viral infection. It's nothing. Go home and take rest. You'll be fine'.

I thought of my clairvoyant friend, as I walked out of the hospital with a bandage on my ears and my wallet emptied by about 80 bucks.

Unknown...!

After a fulfilling 10 day road trip, I was royally subjected to the super fun of catching up with work, which took me another 10 days incurring more excitement than the trip itself. A total control freak I am, I find it a little difficult to agree something can happen right without my involvement, even partially. One thing leading to another, last night I ended up sitting on my couch wondering why is there just 24 hours a day. Just not enough, I said to myself like a scientist.

That spark of thought triggered more thoughts than my naive brain could answer. With limited span of human life, one gets a feeling that there is a lot that goes unachieved or even unrealized. There are so many places in this world (or universe?) that I may never get to visit. There are so many books that I may never get to read. There are so many good music that I may never get to hear.

There are so many cuisines that I may never get to taste. There are so many different climates that I may never get to feel. There are so many people I may never get to meet. There are so many technologies I may never get to lay my hands on.

The list, I guess, never ends.

Average human life span of around 65 years is simply not enough.

I watch 'Universe' TV series and marvel at our humungous universe. To make a one way trip to Pluto (in the fastest means known to humans), they say it takes around 10 years. And for further analysis and conclusions, it might take a few more years. One has to positively dedicate a good chunk of his lifetime for such research. Yet, there would be much more to still figure out.

Comparing the magnificence of things around us, humans seem pitiably small and endowed with minuscule time interval for what we call Life. Maybe, one needs more than just one birth to understand things a little better.

Only if I have the power to pace ahead of time (and space) to find out the unknown - But if I do, I promise I’ll write a blogpost.

Motor Pun'ire!

Indian restaurants in the US are strange in more ways than one. Though most of them do a good job in serving the food right, some simply don't. They rather specialize in screwing up things like professionals.

Outside India, most Indians know enough not to compare home food (or even food from restaurants in India) to food in US desi restaurants. Restaurants capitalize on this very idea. They effortlessly let the quality of food slide, but try in despair to infiltrate into other areas.

Maybe the hospitality matters.

Most restaurants make sure the guests half-way through their meal need to be asked 'how is everything'. I wonder what might happen if one says 'the food sucks!! '. Most waiters are uber-confident about the reply that they don't even wait to hear from the guest.

There have been times when I have asked for water and got looks as if I was asking for a good share in the thousand shares of Google the waiter owns.

To get a better feel of the (in)hospitality, one should enter a restaurant at 9.45pm, when the closing time is 10pm. The waiter might expect the guest to decide till the dessert, before even one is shown a menu card.

It eventually becomes a discovery that quality of food and hospitality are perhaps not the only reasons one goes to restaurants. Like most others, I have this habit of not eating the same variety of food in the same restaurant for the second time.

The other day, as I was browsing through the menu at this Indian restaurant, I found something called “Motor Pun'ire”. I almost thought it was a new dish, before I realized the intended name is actually “Mutter Paneer”. Whowould imagine mis-spelling to this extent?! Looking through the other items such as “Alu Motor”, “Chicken Mosolla” the laughter was more satiating than the food in the first place.

One infers the name of the food hardly matters either.

Despite all these, I for one consider going to an Indian restaurant a regular activity - as I believe "eating Indian food is the best thing to happen, especially when one does not have to cook them". I happily let go on a few other things.

Wait..why so happy?

I find it insanely funny when most people, once every year, scream their lungs out for something so trivial that happens every day. Strike of the clock at midnight! I was watching CNN this morning and amazed myself for the umpteenth time, at the amount of hulla-gulla thats being created for the imminent new year celebrations. In the simplest of perspectives, it's just another day. Yet, people jump around as if the earth would come to a stop if they dont. 

I would have received a minimum of 50 emails in the last 2 days wishing for New Year - I wonder how many of those people really wish I have a PROSPEROUS new year. 

On a different note, life of humans thrive in this planet just because of plain vanilla belief on various things. People believe without thinking, because if they do, they would clearly know its just a make-belief. People make themselves believe that a party is a mandatory activity for new year. They never wonder if the movement of the calendar (invented by ancient humans) to the next cycle become a good enough reason to shed some dollars and drink/dance the night away. 

And even if its just the calendar movement, New year for most countries does not fall on January 1st. Yet people celebrate on Jan 1st. Maybe people just need excuses to get away from mundanity. 

We do things just because everybody does, don't we?! 

I'm amazed by us!

Being Prodigal - a good deed

I read about the falling US economy in more than one daily. There is not a single news channel that does not mention the job losses and the "financial down-spiral" in the US, as the experts call it. As much as I wish for people's happiness, there is pretty much nothing I can do to save the economy.

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!

Theory of Supportivity!

Women are more supportive to men than men are to women. That indeed makes men seem more blessed than women, in spite of all the efforts that women take to be more supportive than men. With less travails, men being supported makes them seem blessed, but they actually are cursed for they are sought after to take more efforts to be supportive. Yet, men dont take such curses for long by one woman, as another comes in, only to prove the 'supportive' theory in the first place.  

Rewind and Rejuvenate!

Re-experiencing the past days of life always gives one a nicer feeling. Going back to the past, reliving those happy moments, forgetting all about the present makes one a happier person. The other day, I took off to New York City to meet a friend. Pressingly short, yet incredible vacation right in the middle of an otherwise hectic work week it turned out to be. I used to work in NYC for 3 years and after I moved out of the city, in spite of so many weekends I go there to meet friends, its been a while I spent a week-day there. It indeed gave me an incredible feeling to witness the same fast life, where there is an untold haste in every body's lives. I reassured for the nth time that nothing is slow in this city, except for the hobos.

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.