Daily Karma

Britannia - Eat Healthy, Think Better?

2007-07-28T06:06:00.000-07:00

Britannia Treat – “tasty delights for all kids with yummy creamy treasures within the biscuit shell.”

This is how the company website describes its range of cream biscuits sold under the brand name of Treat. For a processed foods company (especially one targeting kids) it is imperative that the highest standards of quality are laid down and followed.

Therefore, I was horrified, on opening a packet of Jim Jam Treat, to find dead insects stuck on the crust of these biscuits. The pictures below tell the whole story, more emphatically than I could ever hope to.

However, is quality such an important matter for them? Do they make efforts to guarantee that the purity of their products is being maintained, not only within the manufacturing premises, but also at every point in the distribution channel? Do these mammon- worshipping entities care for anything but the lure of mega profits? How accountable are they for the products they manufacture and sell?

In all fairness to the company, they reacted quickly to my complaint and sent a sales officer to “explain” the situation to me. The officer said that it is very difficult for the company to make sure that the products are handled with the same care at the distributor/retailer’s premises. The insects could have entered at any point in the distribution channel.

I, for my part, can only hope that the company understands the seriousness of the issue and takes effective steps – like improving their product packaging to make sure that something like this is not repeated again.

Kozhikode

2007-03-31T10:43:00.000-07:00

Kozhikode, situated on the Malabar cost of India, receives torrential monsoons. These monsoons make it a wet and humid place. And, like other Indian cities, it is overcrowded. If you ever stop at the traffic intersection on Mavoor Road, the pungent smell of pollution and the throbbing sound of petrol and diesel engines, combined with the incessant sound of blaring horns will conspire to suffocate you. With any luck, it will be raining heavily. You will be drenched and your trousers mucked up. In spite of all this, you will see a fair deal of commercial activity. On both sides of the road, you will find dozens of shops. Some are small and dingy. Others are glamorous with large neon signs and attractive glass facades. But, a feeling of forced claustrophobia is omnipresent.

As Good As It Gets

2007-03-26T11:44:00.000-07:00

IMDB Rating: 7.7/10

Cast of characters:

Jack Nicholson as Melvin Udall

Helen Hunt as Caroll Connelly

Greg Kinnear as Simon Bishop

Introduction

This movie is a touching comedy about three New Yorkers, three unhappy people, who have been condemned by destiny to be whacked and slapped more often than what would be their fair share. It is about a writer (Udall), who has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), he is mean, angry and frustrated; but writes romantic stories for a living. It is about this diffident, young homosexual painter (Simon), who has a strange kind of honesty about him. And a not so young, single mother (Caroll) who has somewhere lost her own self between nursing her acutely ill son and working as a waitress.

The First Scene

Simon’s ill-mannered pooch is contemplating blasphemy at the corner of a wall with his one hind leg raised in the air, outside the front door of Udall’s apartment. This certainly does not go well with Udall. He discourages the dog in his characteristic mean and threatening manner, talking and smiling to him, inviting the dog to join him in the elevator, perhaps to dispose him off in the bustle of the mean city outside. The dog is not easily convinced. Udall picks him up, and the pooch takes advantage of his elevated position to do what Udall dreads. A disgusted Udall, enraged with the dog’s audacity, pushes him down the garbage chute; a smug smile adorns his countenance as he naively thinks that he has rid himself of this nuisance forever.

Udall

Udall is a queer character. He does not walk in a straight line, but chooses to dodge imaginary lines on the floor beneath. He, as the rest of the world, does not simply switch on the light, or lock the door. He will switch the light on and off five times – on, off, on, off and finally, on. Ditto for the lock. The cabinet above his washbasin is stacked with dozens of newly packed soap bars. He washes his hands with two new soap bars under blistering hot water. An extreme case of OCD; he is in dire need of the services of a professional and competent psychiatrist. At the same time, he is also an extremely popular writer of ideal, romantic stories – painting illusions of true love and companionship - the kind that women find fascinating but would hardly capture the attention of a man.

The story

The storyline is weaved around a tragic accident with Simon. He becomes the victim of a merciless attack, inside his own home, by some hooligan friends of his model. This not only leaves his face scarred beyond recognition but also unsettles his life. The resulting medical expenses leave him bankrupt. He will have to give up his apartment and studio. That man’s fortunes hit so low that even his own dog ignores him. Caroll is, also, unable to afford a decent treatment for her son’s asthma and allergy condition – he is literally incapacitated. She is frustrated, bitter and tired.

Udall falls in love with Caroll. He becomes a nicer person. The sarcasm and meanness withdraw from his personality. He becomes friends with Simon. He, also, does something spectacular for Caroll and her son. These three people find companionship, support and love in each other. And live happily ever after.

Thoughts

But, as I see it, life is not so easy. When you are in trouble, when you are losing hope, there is no Udall. Life is, at times, unbearable. Suffering is an unavoidable part of our lives. Your worst fears come true. We are all, anyways, doomed.

To Be or Not To Be

2007-03-09T09:35:00.000-08:00

I know that the title is very much a cliché, but it is always so much easier to give in to the temptation of using one, rather than racking your brains over trying to create something original – knowing all the time that you will hardly come up with something as brilliant. My friend, these clichés have survived through ages - this particular one having survived more than 200 years, ever since the great bard penned them down – because they have beautifully captured the right idea or emotion. Oh, but we digress from the point. So, what I was trying to tell you is this – I am, what you might call, a perennially and utterly confused person. I have found myself bouncing back and forth, like a shuttlecock, on almost every trivial matter that one could possibly bounce back and forth upon. Several times, I have found myself in front of the mess refrigerator, pondering over the right drink to choose – one that would perfectly compliment the subzi of the day, or my mood, or for that matter even the weather. While grappling with the merits and demerits of a Pepsi and Coke, I would suddenly find myself lusting about a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, with just the right flavor – a little sweet and a little sour. After this period of indecision, I usually reach out for the drink closest at hand. Do not get me wrong, it is not these common frivolities alone, which occupy my time and energy. If you believe, I have moved my lazy posteriors, from the comfort of my cozy mattress, to this hard plastic chair just to write about the difficulties I face in choosing soft drinks, you are I am afraid to point out, completely off the mark.

The latest stimulus, which has caused my mind, to enter in to what it does best – bouncing back and forth – is the matter of…Well; do we need to go in to it? Some things are best left unsaid…..

The Elusive Bike Delivery

2006-06-19T10:56:00.000-07:00

Now, Now, ..Don't you start haggling for a party at the mention of the words "Bike" and "Delivery". Yours truly, has of course not decided to abandon his faithful two stroke powerhouse - The Yamaha RX 135 for some pathetic contraption they call a four stroke motorcycle! And mind you, It is NOT that the bike that is having a delivery!

Its just that I had parceled the RX to Kozhikode (my home for the next two years) from Ahmedabad and the next logical step would be to "get the delivery" from the Kozhikode station's parcel office. Now, Why do I call it the "elusive" delivery you ask? Aaah! For that you'll have to take the trouble to read the entire post....

It was on the 12th day of the sixth month of the year 2006 (don't worry...just tryin to make it sound grand...) that I was to collect my bike from the parcel office of the Kozhikode Station. I asked a new found friend on the campus also named Aditya to accompany me to the station. He also had to collect his bike from the foot of the hill where we have our campus. We decided to ride on his bike to the railway station. Well, the roads here are pretty decent but unfortunately the traffic is not. The roads inspite of being decent are all confused. They don't go along in a straight line like our sensible city roads but choose to go up and down small hillocks twisting and turning. Crazy traffic and confused roads pack a dangerous concotation. Take my word for it. So as Aditya's Unicorn was blissfully chugging along a crowded city road without a care in the world, the bright red Indica just ahead of us decided to create some problems by braking hard for some wierd reasons. The result? We failed to respond and before you could say "Watch Out" both of us found ourselves flat on the road with the bike giving us company. As sudden as the accident, a swarm of helpfull people descended from nowhere. Someone's picking up the bike...the other is fetching the petrol bottle which shot from my hand at the moment of impact..Just the kind of thing you would expect in any corner of India. Makes me think how much alike we are inspite of the innumerable differences. Medically speaking, I was quite OK but poor Aditya J. was not so lucky. His nose was bleeding and his teeth and lips were soaked in the stuff. Quickly a rickshaw was summoned and both of us were packed off to the nearest hospital - The Baby Memorial Hospital. Well, I could just go on and on and on about how things turned up in the hospital but it all boils down to the fact the Aditya J. came out with a crepe bandadge on his right hand wrist and the promise of an intimidating root canal treatment on two of his front teeth. Of course, his gloomy face did crack up into a smile as soon as he realised that he has become the object of all the girls' sympathy...Just tells you how there's a ALWAYS a positive side...no matter what!! As you might have guessed, the bike delivery did not work out that day!

So off I am again to the parcel office with an almost naieve optimism. The thought of my dear RX languishing in the stinking godowns of the Railways was gnawing away on my heart. I took a Rickshaw with two other friends, dropping them en route and dismissing their offers to pay up right then and there. Finally, I find myself face to face with the office in question. The Rick-wala demands his fare. A cool Rs. 150/-. I wince in pain at the prospect of parting with this princely sum but there is no time to argue. Just a few minutes dear and I'll be right there with you...I had around a hundred and seventy bucks in my wallet. My heart is throbbing away....I follow a maze of directions to finally reach the Goods Delivery Office. I present the receipt. The clerk checks his register. Writes something in greek (or mallu?) in the n different columns....and asks me to pay Rs. 30/- as demurrage charges. Not a big deal, you say? Now if you quickly reach out for a calculator (if you are mathematically challenged like me) or do some mental maths you will figure out that 170 minus 150 leaves 20 which was the sum in my wallet at that given point of time. A shortfall of some 10 measly rupees which had positioned themselves like the stereotypical "baap of the ladki" whom we so often encounter in bollywood flicks. I begged. I pleaded. I appealed to the good senses of that railway clerk. I praised his mother, father, uncle, aunty...but to no avail....I could not succeed in moving his stone cold heart. Makes you wonder what the Railways does to turn up their clerks into such merciless monsters! After tolerating me for some 5 minutes, I was shooed away...

With a heavy heart, I shrink back...hands in my jeans pocket...face turned down...taking one step a minute. Everything looks sooo gloomy. But I hadn't lost the determination. I found myself doing the unthinkable. I cooly touched a man walking on the road for ten bucks! And he agreed. You will agree that I have an impressable record as a "bhikari"....One Target. One Bheekh.
I rush back to the delivery office with my feet hardly touching the ground below. The exhilaration of having turned a bleak situation upside down had left me in raptures. I present the required sum of Rs.30/- in the denomination of a ten rupee and five rupee note with the rest made up by assorted coins of 2 and 5 rupees. The Clerk equally determined to create all possible obstacles in the delivery of my RX raises a new issue - that of tipping the poor porters who had so laboriously unloaded the RX from the train. At that moment I realised what Gandhi, Nehru and company must have felt during their negotations with the British. There comes a time in every man's life when the proverbial paani sir se upar chad jaata hai and if there ever was such a time in my life it was right there and then! I put my foot down and told him to go to hell and boil his head taking his damned porters along with him or something to that effect. It worked and I saw that this same Railways Clerks who looked like Aurangzeb's first cousin melt before my very eyes revealing the vulnerability of humans to the force of iron wills. He quietly made out the gate pass and handed it to me with a meek smile on his face.
With a few minor hiccups because of the negligible quantity of petrol being addressed, I found myself some time later lying down in my room with the smuggest smile on my face, truly content with the knowledge that my baby is safe and comfy in her new new home - the A hostel parking.

Travel, monsoon and mommy dear!

2006-06-01T11:10:00.000-07:00

I have been called for the preparatory course by IIM-K and it is starting from the 12th of June. My railway tickets have already been done but some mischevious elements have made my mom believe that with the torrential monsoons of the Konkan, the trains are likely to get delayed by days and days....and then what would her poor darling sonny do? What if the pantry runs out of supplies?
So most likely her koochi-poo will have to fly down to calicut....Hey! Don't take it as a negative post against my mother....She is very sweet and lovely....but only takes a little more stress about these teeny weeny things than she should :-)

C'est la vie!

2006-04-13T11:20:00.000-07:00

Here I was, all disappointed and frustu with life. No hopes of IIMK conversion....had heard nothing from TCS....and just out of the blue I get a final call from IIMK!! and TCS calls me for training from 25th April.....all on the same day... But its very obvious that I am going to join IIMK!
I guess this is what life is all about....
You have to see this photo blog of IIMK- Taste of Heaven
Its divine!!

Things Fall Apart

2006-03-14T05:54:00.000-08:00

Individuals, Corporations, Countries, Ideologies, Civilizations – Who can resist the mighty winds of change? The British Empire which ruled the world for centuries is now long forgotten. Russia, the intimidating edifice of communism is today in shambles. Indeed, things do fall apart. Here is an effort to present one of the greatest African novels – Things Fall Apart (TFA) by Chinua Achebe.

Background:
First published in 1958, TFA is one of the first English novels to be written by an African author. It is also the first novel which tells the story of Africa from the perspective of an African tribesman. Earlier works by European authors like Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad are considered to be superficial lacking a true understanding of this great land.

The title is taken from W. B. Yeats’ poem, “The Second Coming”. An excerpt is presented below:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

Chinua Achebe was born into a Christian family of Igbo heritage. His father had converted to Christianity while some other relatives were still Igbo. In this way he got an opportunity to closely observe two cultures – at home he grew up reading the bible and singing hymns while at his uncle’s place he celebrated “pagan” festivals.

Introduction:
The story tracks the entire life of Okonkwo, a powerful and strong man who belongs to the Igbo tribe. He is a living legend in the nine villages of Umuofia known throughout for his strength and success. The book covers his rise to fame and his ultimate down fall.

An unparalleled characteristic of the book is the insights it provides into African culture and tradition. It has detailed and charming descriptions of Igbo life, their family structure, rituals, beliefs, their oracles and medicine men. It is an exotic journey into the heart of African civilization.

The Beginning:
Okonkwo is born to Unoka, a lazy coward man without any titles. He looks down upon his father and is determined to write a different story for his own life. He is ambitious and with great hardships realizes his dream to be become a prominent member of his tribe.

Okonkwo – The man
As a result of an internal feud with another village, Okonkwo’s village is paid with the tribute of a young boy. Okonkwo is asked to take care of this boy until a further decision is taken. He raises the kid, who used to call him father, as his own son. After a few years the village oracle decides that the boy should be killed. The men of the village gather to lead the boy, who is unaware of his ill fate, towards the forest where he is to be eventually executed. As the executioners approach the boy, he senses that something is wrong and runs towards Okonkwo for safety crying out “Father”. At that instant, with one powerful blow his own “father” puts him to death. This is Okonkwo for you. His father because he held no titles was called agbala, which is the Igbo word for a woman. Okonkwo is desperate to prove he is a man.

The Nemesis
As time passes Okonkwo faces several hardships and is even banished from his village for many years. Slowly, the world around him starts changing. The Christian missionaries are coming. They have a mission – The salvation of the savages of the dark-continent. Okonkwo is proud of his Igbo traditions, culture and society. He is a mute spectator to the subjugation and humiliation of his people and their beliefs. How does the mighty Okonkwo face this nemesis? I guess, those who haven’t already read the book will have to read it.

One Very Funny Man

2006-03-13T09:13:00.000-08:00

As my critics have......er....criticised me and my style of humor I have decided to leave the job to the experts. You just have to check out Dave Barry. Especially this and his biography.

Tremblement de Terre

2006-03-08T08:45:00.000-08:00

If you ascribe the odd title above to an irreversible process of brain degeneration which started when I was dropped on my head when I was a 2 year old baby and I have now reached the last stage where patients start typing rubbish you are entirely incorrect. Actually, its French. Now French they tell me is the official language of some country called France. I was quite taken aback by this having always believed that they only spoke Bangladeshi there. Yeah, so what does this “Tremblement de Terre” actually mean you ask me? As the readers of this blog are from all corners of the world I will go with the assumption that your IQ is roughly the same as an average American and given that their brilliant president George W. Bush is considered as one of the leading intellectuals of that country even the most patriot of Americans will have to concede that it isn’t much to be proud of. The word earthquake belonging to the family of multi-syllable words at which all Americans reach out for Picture Dictionaries especially made for young orangutans facing severe learning disabilities we will for their benefit explain the term. It’s a dangerous and highly infectious disease which is spreading thanks to birds across continents and “threatens to be a threat” to human civilization. Ummm….maybe I might have just mixed up a few things here or there.. …They tell us that this “Tremblement de Terre” paid a visit to Gujarat last night at around 11:51 pm. Of course, the left and congress have blamed this TDT on Narendra Mmodi’s fascist policies and anti-muslim agenda and Modi not to be left behind is said to have blamed the U.C. Banerjee committee’s report.

IIM Kozhikode Interview

2006-03-06T09:07:00.000-08:00

I know it’s a stale event by now but one has to do one’s duty towards the blog.

The interview panel comprised of two senior gentlemen – one with a really really long hair cut and a beard to match and another pretty decent looking normal chap. The one overwhelmingly obvious difference between them being their hairstyle we will call them Long Hair (LH) and Short Hair (SH). It turns out that SH is a PhD in economics (I found this out after the interview from the website.) I will go by the name of Poor Candidate (PC)

PC: Good afternoon, Sirs.

LH & SH: Good afternoon. Take a seat.

SH: Are you tired? You have been waiting for quite some time now.

PC: No sir.

LH: Aditya, we have been asking everyone to tell us something about themselves, family etc. Why don’t you tell us something about yourself.

PC: Some fundas about how great I am ….something about the family

LH: What is graphology? (I had mentioned it)

PC: Handwriting analysis, etc…..controversial subject….

SH: Can you analyze my handwriting for me? I will write down something….

PC: Sure sir.

SH: (writes down a few sentences) Here it is

PC: Talk about a few traits I could notice

LH: Why have your results gone down since 10^th standard?

PC: I talk about relative performance etc.

LH: You like to surf the internet….Have you heard of pagal guy?

SH: (To LH) What? What is it?

LH: Why don’t you tell him about it?

PC: Website for MBA aspirants, etc. …..more than 50K members…

LH: Have you studied anything about accounting?

PC: No sir

LH: Any subject related to economics?

PC: Sir, we had economics and business management.

LH: Business management, eh? Hmm….Did you study anything about motivation?

PC: No sir

SH: How do you think we can increase worker productivity?

PC: Something about imparting skills, better work environment, better salaries

LH: Have you read the Gita?

PC: No sir. The only thing I know about it is what I have seen in the Mahabharat televison serial.

SH: (Smiling)..Aaah…That was all about arrows flying from here to there…

PC: (Smiling broadly)…Yes of course, sir…I don’t have any philosophical insights into it…

LH: Do you think it’s a philosophical or a religious text?

PC: I haven’t read it so wouldn’t be able to say anything…

LH: (cuts me short) But still you can say something..

PC: I think it’s a little bit of both…

SH: It’s a nice thing you have done the French language course. In this globalised world knowing a foreign language will be helpful to you…

PC: Thank you sir

SH: We have an exchange program with European School of Business, Paris wherein six students from our institute go there and an equal number come here….

LH: We are asking everyone to speak a few minutes about any topic…You can choose a topic if you want to…Okay, we will give you one…Speak on “How can India win more medals at the Olympics”

PC: touch a few points about professionalizing sports bodies, infrastructure and support for players…give a few examples about problems of nepotism etc…and fail to mention obvious things about changing our perception towards sports as a career, etc…

LH: What do you think about the group discussion today?

PC: (relunctantly) It was a nice GD..

LH: Do you think you had direction?

PC: (Smiling) Sir, we had only a few points and were just trying to say the same things in different ways

LH: (Smiling) Maybe you lacked wisdom…(Laughs)….(The topic of the GD was “Seek wisdom, not knowledge.)

LH & SH: Thank You and Best of Luck.

I understand that the above is a skewed view of how the interview unfolded as I have not given my answers in detail….but I am feeling too lazy to think about what I spoke exactly and type it out….

My Beloved, We meet again.

2006-02-26T09:38:00.000-08:00

As is customary in these cases, I shall start with apologies for not having posted for such a long time. But finally the self imposed moratorium on blogging is over. I have just come back after attending the IIM Kozhikode personality assesment process. Yes, there is an IIM - Indian Institute of Management at Kozhikode which happens to be in Kerala, India. The skeptics (and I have encountered a large number of them in the recent past. Kozhikode? Whats that? Don't tell me, we have an IIM at Kozhikode? and other such endless questions accompanied with vigorous blinking of the eyes and a blank expression. grrrr...) may kindly visit www.iimk.ac.in to set the record straight. But anyways lets forget that.

I sincerely hope that this also settles all doubts raised by people from various sections - family, friends, media, national governments, et al that the blog was a mere whim, a fancy which has lost favor like a mistress kept too long. So here we go with some highly charged sentimental crap aimed at placating a sulking blog.

"You are indeed not my life but my mistress - one that promises to hold my heart in perennial custody. You cannot be my life for it is full of the security of the banal and the clichéd , but you shall always be my garden of Eden. In your arms I have found paradise to which I promise to return time and again, stealing myself from the travails of a mundane life. I can never bid you farewell but only Au Revoir for we shall surely meet again"

All eligible female visitors may kindly take note of the desperate and suppressed romantic nature of the author taking expression in the form of a love letter to his blog due to the severe lack of a companion more worthy of these emotions.

The Shawshank Redemption - Fear Can Hold You Prisoner, Hope Can Set You Free

2006-01-17T11:01:00.000-08:00

Theme

The movie is a touching depiction of prison life. Andrew Dufresne, vice president in a big bank, has been convicted of the murder of his wife and her lover. He is innocent of the crime but in the face of strong circumstantial evidence is sentenced to two back to back life sentences in a high security prison - Shawshank. It is the end of life for him, at least the life that he has ever known. Like Andrew almost every other man in Shawshank knows that he is probably never going to see his friends, family and loved ones again. These people have no hope and they have no future. But life is such a beautiful phenomenon that even in the face of such a dreary, monotonous existence, they try to find a balance. To look at these people, one would hardly think that they are doomed – they joke, play, eat, chat – they live normal lives, or as normal a life as they can.

Andrew tries to make a difference in a variety of ways. He writes a letter to the state senate every week asking for funds for the prison library. After six years, they get tired and sends him some old books and two hundred dollars and plead him to stop writing those letters. Andrew then starts writing two letters every week. Eventually, he is able to build a large library with books, music records and other facilities for the prisoners. He teaches the prisoners and helps some of them pass High School. He even helps the guards fill their tax returns. The only thing he is probably trying to do is to make his life worthwhile.

Andrew makes friends with Ellis Boyd Redding (Red for short). He is a philosophical character and his monologues about prison life with the soft melancholy music playing in the background are touching as well as insightful – “When they put you in that cell and those bars slam home, that’s when you know its for real. Whole life blown away in the blink of an eye and nothing left but all the time in the world to think about it.” Brooks is an old man. He has been at Shawshank for fifty years and finally its time to go out to the outside world. Is Brooks happy at the prospect of freedom? As Red says “Brooks is institutionalized….In here he is an important man….Outside he is nothing….Just a used up con with arthritis in both hands….These Walls are funny. First you hate ‘em and then you get used to ‘em. Enough time passes and you get to depend on ‘em. That’s institutionalized……They send you here for life and that’s exactly what they take.” Simply beautiful.

The ending of the movie is a fantastic surprise and I wouldn’t want to take anything away from those who haven’t seen the film. A must see for those who appreciate meaningful cinema but certainly not for those who prefer fast paced and “happening” films.

Trivia

The film was not very successful when it was released in theatres but later on through the home video market it became a huge hit.
It has been voted as the second greatest movie ever made in Internet Movie Database’s Top 250 Films of all time after the Godfather.
It was nominated for seven Oscars – Best Movie, Best Actor (Morgan Freeman), Best Director, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Cinematography, Best Editing, Best Original Score, and Best Sound. It failed to win even a single Oscar.
It is based on Stephen King’s novella “Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption”

Blog ++

2006-01-16T10:45:00.000-08:00

The Blog has some handy tools added to it now! One is blogarithm - you can sign up to receive an email whenever the blog is updated (highly recommended) and BlogPatrol - a hit counter, so that we can see how many (or rather more accurately how few) visitors come by.

We Will Overcome

2006-01-14T08:56:00.000-08:00

I was a useless man. Eat, smoke, drink and sleep was all I did. The only thing I gave back to the world was my shit. And even that used to stink like hell.

I will never forget that day. The day when I found the purpose of my life - my raison d' etre. It was a sticky Ahmedabad afternoon. I was taking my post very-heavy-lunch nap, hapless and despondent with me and my 'tanhai', cursing my uneventful and wretched existence. And then it happened. Whether it was a dream or reality, I will never know. The only thing I can say is that it changed me forever. It was the stroke of divinity – my tryst with Bore Baba – the deity of Boriyat. I had only to look into his eyes and realize I had met my savior. He embraced me lovingly and cursed me (oh, how foolish I was then to mistake his blessings for a curse) to a jaded existence of boredom. He talked at length about the lost art of Boredom. Of how our ancient rishis unleashed the power of their minds, performed miracles with extraordinary ease simply because of their untiring dedication towards the practice of Boredom. He literally shed tears at the ignorance of our masses, their neglect and forsaken attitude towards the most exquisite creation of God.

There are only a handful of our brothers and sisters. People who have dedicated their entire lives to Baba’s cause. They include the likes of Sidney Sheldon, Ekta Kapoor and the unparalleled genius – Bappi Lahri (Readers will appreciate being a covert organization we cannot disclose our ranks) He gave me a mission, a reason to live. I did almost everything I could to establish myself in the highly refined art of boredom. I read annual balance sheets of public limited companies, read tomes on the social life of cockroaches and even tried my hand at calculus. Finally with the blessings of Baba when I was confident enough I brought myself to the excruciating task, my ultimate test - watch all the flicks of our very own Mithun Da (Aaaaah!). And now I have the opportunity to bring to fruition Baba's plans of universal boredom by writing the most abominable, crappy shit in this world and spread it far and wide with this Blog. We shall be mocked at and derided but one day – We Will Overcome

P.S. I pass considerably less smelly shit now.

Blessed with Bliss

2006-01-12T03:15:00.000-08:00

Suppose you are craving to have a pizza since weeks and one fine evening to your surprise find yourself face to face confronted with a lip smacking large pizza. What do you do? Ofcourse you gorge it down in less than a minute. But it is not the same with all things in life. You crave for freedom and the moment you have it you have no idea what to do with it.

Mom is off to Vaishnao Devi leaving me behind for a week of Home Alone. You know you have an entire week ahead of you and nothing to do - just careless abandon. (You conveniently forget for the time being that XLRI's entrance test is barely a week away because studying would be a cardinal sin now) A fellow like me is especially pained at such occasions. One doesn't drink, smoke, do drugs etc. Alas, the chief mediums to celebrate freedom are beyond us! I immediately start messing around the house so that it better reflects my character. The newspapers are scattered about, books are to be found everywhere except the book shelves and dirty plates and utensils add aesthetic value to the sofa and bed as well as they can. Now that we have the place in some order we leave the confines of the house to explore the world beyond. First stop - Pratik's place. Fortunately Pratik is as "vella" (punjabi for people like yours truly who perpetually live in a state of careless abandon) as I am inspite of the fact that his GRE is only days away. We immediately decide to stick it out together like chewing gum and hair for the week – equal partners in everything we do. We return to my place and it’s around 11 pm. As true geeks we start of by installing Xandros Linux on my laptop. Till around mid night we tinker around with linux then and decide to go to sleep. We switch off the lights and purportedly go to sleep. But of course it was not to be so. Now Pratik like me is addicted to and is the foremost practitioner of senti-tp. It is a form of tp (time pass) in which a broad spectrum of issues like girls, love, career, iims, etc. - in fact everything under the sun about which couple of young guys can get sentimental about. At around 1:30 Pratik suggests that it would be a good idea to have a midnight snack and we settle for our favourite - maggi. With two packs of maggi in our stomachs and both of us hungry for some action the idea of sleeping is dismissed. We decide to see "Good Will Hunting" which continues till around 3:30. Both of us are so sleepy eyed that it seems prudent to finally call it a day.

Its around 11 am and my head funny and somewhat in the same condition in which people find theirs the day after a night of boozing around – aching and as heavy as a dumb bell. It leads me to conclude that hangovers are not caused by alcohol but by heavy overdoses of fun. We set out on my roaring Yamaha like two tigers on the prowl looking for breakfast. We start of with "bataka paua" but the fire is still burning inside. Cut to Anand dal-vada. With four hundred gms of hot steaming dal-vadas seeping with oil inside our bellies we are full but not out yet. Being the gourmands that we are we have cold-drinks and a packet of chips. Munching on chips and looking around at the crazy hordes of people scrambling around here and there, carrying the burdens of a dozen worries and I suddenly realize how kind life has been to us, those who live in a state of constant semi-hibernation.

King Kong - King Sized Entertainment

2006-01-01T09:43:00.000-08:00

Peter Jackson, three time academy award winner, has once again proved why he is one of the most acclaimed directors of our times. The first time I heard of King Kong my first thought was why would someone like Jackson make a movie on this clichéd and unoriginal subject. Frankly, I didn't think much of it. But the day I saw a full sized close up of King Kong's face - those wild eyes, flaring nostrils, furrowed brows were ferocity personified and I knew I just had to see the beast in action.

The story has some strong characters - An unemployed small time stage actress Anna, a desperate, overly ambitious motion picture director Carl, a love stricken script writer Jack and above all the Beast himself. A majestic figure, the king of the jungle where he lives, the most ferocious creature, unchallenged in bravery and strength is magically transformed into a tame, harmless figure in the presence of a vulnerable Anna. These two aspects of King Kong's personality are beautifully captured in the scene where he is fighting with two giant godzilla type lizards while at the same time protecting Anna in his hands. The silent relationship forged between the two is sublimely crafted. And of course, in inimitable Jackson style the movie has some spectacular action scenes involving ingenious creatures like deadly cockroaches, potent lizards and slithering monsters with hundreds of tentacles.

In spite of a jaded story line the film is carried off by some brilliant performances and breathtaking direction.

First Post

2006-01-01T09:24:00.000-08:00

Just checking. Look out for my post on "King Kong".