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!

iSneeze, iTravel

Before I stepped into the meeting room at work, I put a gum into my mouth and sneeed four times. My colleague diligently kept saying 'bless ya' every single time I sneezed. It was not new to me. Once I'm done, he gave me a strange look and asked if I'm alright. I smiled and kept walking into the room.

Everytime I eat a gum (with mint flavor), I sneeze. I don't sneeze five times or three times. I sneeze exactly four times. I wonder if my body has a timer or something. And what is even more strange is when I see the sun in the mornings while going to work, I sneeze. I stop, sneeze four times and then get into the car. After four times, the sneeze stops abruptly as if its done for the day. I'm at a point where I consider this almost a ritual.

It is not just me who has strange mannerisms like these. There are things around me that are slightly weird too. When I unlock my work laptop in the mornings, I type Ctrl+Alt+Del exactly thrice before it wakes up. I have tried hitting Ctrl+Alt+Del twice and waiting for a few minutes. The laptop would not respond. For some reason likes to be hit thrice.

Even my iphone cranks up once in a while and when I receive a call, the sign 'slide to answer' will not respond no matter how much I slide (I have tried to slide like hell, with all fingers, even toes at times!). I need to slide slowly exactly four times before the call gets answered.

I have more rituals like these if you are interested. Every time I travel to India on vacation, I bring up the topic in any unrelated conversation (like this). And then once I reach India, as if its a birth right of every Indian who travels to India on vacation, I write about how much Chennai has changed in terms of lifestyle and how much the city has not changed in terms of climate and traffic. I consider that sinful if I don't write my thoughts on India every two years (if not lesser). Its all part of my rituals.

But then you may ask what exactly is the point of this post besides my sneezing habits and intimating people of my India trip. There is none.

When has there been a point while one writes a blogpost anyways?!

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!

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!

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!

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.

Snapshot of one's life...

I sneeze. I drop the phone in my hands. I bend down to fetch the phone and the pen in my pocket slips. Trying to grab the pen, I drop the phone again. I miss the pen anyways. It bounces away to glory only to hide itself under the desk. I get the phone first. I try for the pen next. I crouch, bend and stretch myself to a crazy yoga position and reach under the desk. An abbreviated moment of stretching and twisting later, I find the pen and rise up fast, only to bang my head against the corner of the desk. The reflex makes me bend again, this time with more agility and with cartoon birds flying around my head. Only a moment later I realize that the water cup on the edge of my desk had been tripped by the bang. Trying to save the computer and other accessories from any more inundation than it had experienced in the past, I open the drawer with haste to fetch some napkins. The drawer door hits my knee hard enough to make me squirm with discomfort. The phone rings. I pick the receiver, only for the already entangled phone wire to snarl with the mouse wire. The receiver hesitates to reach my ears. Mouse refrains to let go. The flood on the desk spreads uncontrolled by the napkins. I am on the verge of sneezing again. I sit right there enjoying every moment of it as a habit of mine!

There you go...a snapshot of one's life!!

People's curse..

...must be it. Three weeks since I watched a movie in the theatre.

That four letter word!

Vacation-o-mania!

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!

Work...

...takes precedence over life. And a few other things.

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.

Red...

Being born blessed with the endowment of infuriating and irritating people is a curse for some. Existence as the epitome of evoking annoyance on others seems inconspicuous for them. Scorning at them muttering something in the lines of 'Son of a bitch' inwardly does not really help. Neither to communicate the ire nor for self-satiation. One unfeignedly attempts to brush it aside as a likely sequence of event life poses, yet ends up writing a blogpost. For this is the best vent. A pressure valve.

Relief.

On being busy…

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.

Habanadha...!!!

Languages are absolutely funny. So are the cultural differences. That, if looked at with the right perspective.

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.

Dreams..

..I hate them. Mostly impertinent. And Silly.

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.

Me, the Sleep and the Kaapi...

I, belonging to the cult with the motto "Do nothing if it affects sleep even remotely", find it surprisingly weird that I'm attending the work-conference calls at 6.30 in the morning for the past 2 weeks consistently. Very much unlike me. And I have this habit of doing 99% of activities involuntarily in the first 20 minutes after I wake up in the morning. I call it the ’20-min-zone’. Most of the times I would wonder if I brushed that day, but I'd console myself with the assumption that I should have done that in the '20-min-zone'. At times when I brush in the nights, I'd say to myself 'Oh this is how brushing might feel like in the mornings too!' Aamir khan stole the idea and used it in TZP when Ishanth does a sleep-walk to the bathroom and brush. But that’s not the point. The point is the conference call. And most of the days, I attend the meeting in the cozy confines of the comforter. Half-asleep.

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!

Tennis!

Watching Tennis is experiencing heaven on earth. Just like how kaapi is the only known elixir for humans. I wake up in the middle of the night or be up all night, just to watch some skillful back-hand returns or adept half-volleys or aesthetic aces. Tennis is the only sport which never leaves me bored. Thank God, I don't get to see this rat fight IPL. Roland Garros enthuses.

One wouldn't mind to indulge oneself in tennis 24x7, even if it means half the current remuneration and a career cul de sac!

Rejuvenation...

An impromptu getaway day churned out of a simple-thought lie leads one to a serene life. 9am - brush, 11am - bath, 2pm - lunch, 3pm - nap,  8pm - dinner, interim timeframes thru'out - couch potato infront of the LCD TV. Bliss.

Kabali demands a quick one day-weekend right in the middle of a work week. No work-phone calls, no e-mails, no commute. Just HBO, Sitcoms and being. 

Rejuvenation!

Mundane excitement!

To kill the afternoon boredom and to prolong the weekend feeling, one tries to enthusiastically attempt extempore-planned-long-drives after a dose of sumptuous self-made dosa. And the resultant would be arriving home late on sunday night, a confused feeling of vain-endeavor to forefend the weekday blues, a despairing hope to still procrastinate monday mornings and some self-satiating pictures. Kaapi keeps one awake at work the following day.

One totally wonders at the affairs that single people seek to move their mundane life on. Funny!

Philadelphia to Chennai in 42 mins!!

History channel says if a tunnel is drilled through the centre of the Earth to reach the other side of the earth and if I utilize nothing but gravity to travel thru the tunnel, I'd reach the other side in just 42 mins.

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]