Rules:
1.Players start with 5 random facts about themselves.
2.Post these rules along with your 5 random facts.
3.Tag 3 other people and notify them that they have been tagged.
Well, here goes 5 random facts about myself-
1. When you talk to me,I often go off on a tangent, carried away by some word or phrase .This is at times irritating to people (though not to my best friends, I imagine:)For starters-when I was "tagged"-the first thought was Orkut, Gazzag,Zorpia, Jhoos and now this new thing called Tagged, which is spamming my inbox like crazy:-)
2.I have got a great memory for people,places and events-I can recall with vivid details what I was doing, what we were eating, what each person said and so on.But no!I do not remember the difference between upmilling and downmilling,or the intimate(!) details of an engine lathe,or what is the pitch of an M10 screw/nut/stud/bolt ;)
3. I love puns-especially of the raunchy kind.I love to play with words, and manufacture innuendos out of the most commonplace statements.A particularly well documented habit ,no more on this!!
4.I love food and eating-and can go to great lengths for that.It has been said (rather unkindly by Somnath,I should add) that I never say no to food.
5.I am a nice guy!!! (Yes, really...:)))
I tag-Maverick,Lassie,Ranjiv
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Monday, June 04, 2007
The finer points of American life
The past ten months or so, my writings have mostly dealt with nostalgia, depression, and occasionally,some cheerful things like entropy (only mech engineers need try to understand how entropy can be cheerful,of all things.In fact,if you think my senses are isotropically atrophying,you are probably right:-)That atrocious sentence is just a taste of things to come in my future posts.
But you will live through this one all right.For am going to write about the things that I find quite admirable here, something that I should have done quite a while ago.
Karmanya vadhikaraste, ma faleshu kadach na. Perhaps the essence of The Gita. And yet, I comprehend those lines only after coming here,in a capitalistic country,ironically.Nothing exemplifies what I say better than exam/submission time. Americans work diligently and come what may, they wont pull the typical Indian stunt of a nightout.Once night falls, they will leave at that point,irrespective of how they have done. The code may or may not run.The plots might be wrong.The proof may be awful.But they wont go on.They start work early and finish on time. In contrast Indians, typically will let the grass grow under their feet first.Once enough has grown,they will then toil night and day, colonise the computer lab, all the while keeping their eye fixed on what they want,namely the output/grade.Hardly the followers of The Gita, are we? The American's careless indifference to grades and results is something that I admire. Of course I also understand that in India now we cant survive without being result oriented.Its the way we are brought up, and incidentally most last minute desi submissions often turn out better than the others. In India academic success is almost the only way to make a career.Yes, there are very successful people in other careers too,but lets not kid ourselves and be romantic. For every successful cartoonist, sportsman, artist, or people like that, there are thousands who have fallen by the way side. In the U.S.A, you can make your living as a carpenter or plumber, and live comfortably. Also, the fact that we have come so far for an education means that we obviously are more driven to succeed.So if seen that way, perhaps our behaviour can be rationalised.
However no rationalisation can excuse unethical behaviour,of the kind that am about to describe.
The true meaning of honour and ethics too I discovered after coming here. There is a code of honour that we sign on every assignment and I used to do that with typical cynicism .However during exams I found there were no invigilators!We were just left to ourselves !It was understood, and taken for granted, that nobody would resort to unfair means. To repose such trust made me feel rather ashamed of my earlier cynicism. And there were a few infamous instances that I came to hear about, in classes, with a predominantly Indian population.Assignments were copied en masse , and instructors had to take drastic measures.In one of my courses, two desis had suspiciously similar(correct) answers to a crucial problem, one that had felled the best. The professor called them and asked about it,and these two fed him a cock and bull story.However their story was taken at face value,which again told me something.It is so easy to take advantage of this trust,and I really find it most disgusting when people do that. Not everyone does it , only some do, but almost everyone who does seems to be Asian, which doesnt do us or our country any favours. But it is a wonderful thing isn't it, to pass the responsibility onto you , and assuming that you will act ethically. Such a change from back home!
But you will live through this one all right.For am going to write about the things that I find quite admirable here, something that I should have done quite a while ago.
Karmanya vadhikaraste, ma faleshu kadach na. Perhaps the essence of The Gita. And yet, I comprehend those lines only after coming here,in a capitalistic country,ironically.Nothing exemplifies what I say better than exam/submission time. Americans work diligently and come what may, they wont pull the typical Indian stunt of a nightout.Once night falls, they will leave at that point,irrespective of how they have done. The code may or may not run.The plots might be wrong.The proof may be awful.But they wont go on.They start work early and finish on time. In contrast Indians, typically will let the grass grow under their feet first.Once enough has grown,they will then toil night and day, colonise the computer lab, all the while keeping their eye fixed on what they want,namely the output/grade.Hardly the followers of The Gita, are we? The American's careless indifference to grades and results is something that I admire. Of course I also understand that in India now we cant survive without being result oriented.Its the way we are brought up, and incidentally most last minute desi submissions often turn out better than the others. In India academic success is almost the only way to make a career.Yes, there are very successful people in other careers too,but lets not kid ourselves and be romantic. For every successful cartoonist, sportsman, artist, or people like that, there are thousands who have fallen by the way side. In the U.S.A, you can make your living as a carpenter or plumber, and live comfortably. Also, the fact that we have come so far for an education means that we obviously are more driven to succeed.So if seen that way, perhaps our behaviour can be rationalised.
However no rationalisation can excuse unethical behaviour,of the kind that am about to describe.
The true meaning of honour and ethics too I discovered after coming here. There is a code of honour that we sign on every assignment and I used to do that with typical cynicism .However during exams I found there were no invigilators!We were just left to ourselves !It was understood, and taken for granted, that nobody would resort to unfair means. To repose such trust made me feel rather ashamed of my earlier cynicism. And there were a few infamous instances that I came to hear about, in classes, with a predominantly Indian population.Assignments were copied en masse , and instructors had to take drastic measures.In one of my courses, two desis had suspiciously similar(correct) answers to a crucial problem, one that had felled the best. The professor called them and asked about it,and these two fed him a cock and bull story.However their story was taken at face value,which again told me something.It is so easy to take advantage of this trust,and I really find it most disgusting when people do that. Not everyone does it , only some do, but almost everyone who does seems to be Asian, which doesnt do us or our country any favours. But it is a wonderful thing isn't it, to pass the responsibility onto you , and assuming that you will act ethically. Such a change from back home!
Monday, May 21, 2007
The clock chimes the hour....
I am near New York City.
Today is my birthday.
And if you think that alone is enough to have a blast, you are as wrong as wrong could be.For am alone, feeling desolate and empty.
Nobody around to talk to even. Solitude today has driven me mad. And its nobody's fault, not even mine.
I thought I would go alone to a museum. But that doesnt appeal to me. There are 2 Tamil movies that I could watch.But that doesnt sound good either. So here am, still sitting -the bus has gone even as I speak. This has surely been my worst birthday ever- forgotten by people around and best forgotten by my own self.
How frail the mind of man, and how potent the curse of solitude!!I find it so stifling, to listen to the reverberations of my own thoughts jangling in disharmony.Perhaps its time I learn to live with myself. To accept that times like this are here to stay.
And yet another year ticks by my life.I turn 25..I find it amusing to think of class 6 history lessons.Of Aryans and their life expectancy of a 100 years. Of the first 25 years of life known as Brahmacharya. Never mind that I have been a far from ideal brahmachari (except in the things which matter, that is :-) I find it amazing that the feelings on the age scale are so logarithmic. Turning 25 feels so different from turning 20. I was excited about 20, because it meant more freedom but as you inch along you dont feel so good about 25. I think its because you realise that the course of your life is well set and there is no more a bewildering array of possibilities or wonder about the future anymore. There can be minor changes but you cant really surprise yourself, can you, a few years from now? That way there is a sort of helplessness about it now whereas at 20 you felt you could do anything and you were the master of your fate. And yet, how many times in the past have I found myself saying: "If only time would pass by, and I could be transported into the future, when the uncertainties have blown over and things have settled.."
Such are the foibles of the mind and the heart. I want my tomorrow today and tomorrow I will want my yesterday.
I believe I am not unique in my feelings. Perhaps there are others like me who feel the way I do,a vague discontent with life for no discernible reason.
Despite my depressing mood, I must thank all friends of mine who went out of their way for me.In particular, Pawan and Malavika- you are killing me with curiosity, and Preethadi - I am really touched by your invitation.Thank you so much for making me feel wanted.
As I see the numbers on the wheel of life spinning by,I wish for myself and my friends that our lives transcend the mundane and become meaningful and extraordinary.
Today is my birthday.
And if you think that alone is enough to have a blast, you are as wrong as wrong could be.For am alone, feeling desolate and empty.
Nobody around to talk to even. Solitude today has driven me mad. And its nobody's fault, not even mine.
I thought I would go alone to a museum. But that doesnt appeal to me. There are 2 Tamil movies that I could watch.But that doesnt sound good either. So here am, still sitting -the bus has gone even as I speak. This has surely been my worst birthday ever- forgotten by people around and best forgotten by my own self.
How frail the mind of man, and how potent the curse of solitude!!I find it so stifling, to listen to the reverberations of my own thoughts jangling in disharmony.Perhaps its time I learn to live with myself. To accept that times like this are here to stay.
And yet another year ticks by my life.I turn 25..I find it amusing to think of class 6 history lessons.Of Aryans and their life expectancy of a 100 years. Of the first 25 years of life known as Brahmacharya. Never mind that I have been a far from ideal brahmachari (except in the things which matter, that is :-) I find it amazing that the feelings on the age scale are so logarithmic. Turning 25 feels so different from turning 20. I was excited about 20, because it meant more freedom but as you inch along you dont feel so good about 25. I think its because you realise that the course of your life is well set and there is no more a bewildering array of possibilities or wonder about the future anymore. There can be minor changes but you cant really surprise yourself, can you, a few years from now? That way there is a sort of helplessness about it now whereas at 20 you felt you could do anything and you were the master of your fate. And yet, how many times in the past have I found myself saying: "If only time would pass by, and I could be transported into the future, when the uncertainties have blown over and things have settled.."
Such are the foibles of the mind and the heart. I want my tomorrow today and tomorrow I will want my yesterday.
I believe I am not unique in my feelings. Perhaps there are others like me who feel the way I do,a vague discontent with life for no discernible reason.
Despite my depressing mood, I must thank all friends of mine who went out of their way for me.In particular, Pawan and Malavika- you are killing me with curiosity, and Preethadi - I am really touched by your invitation.Thank you so much for making me feel wanted.
As I see the numbers on the wheel of life spinning by,I wish for myself and my friends that our lives transcend the mundane and become meaningful and extraordinary.
Monday, April 30, 2007
I wish......
I wish I could
Go and eat in the familiar old mess again,bad food eaten with great friends, and never mind the taste!
Skip breakfast and have 2 vadas and a tea at 10.10 in the Snacky...
I could go to the Pearl Coffee shop at night , eat biscuits and feed the styrofoam cups to the cows again.
Order a glass of papaya juice for Rs. 6.00 at the Juicy, and laze around one hot afternoon after class,while quibbling with Pawan or Pattu or Vicky over who will pay..
I could be awakened by the sounds of Gyani's speaker blaring out Marilyn Manson's "This is the new shit"..
I could feel the wind in my face as I pedal uphill from the Bank to Octa...
I could get wet in the rain on Topaz terrace again,without a thought for tomorrow...
It took me several hours to walk through the corridor to my room again,talking to people on the way...
Go to Tabs or Meridian and eat like there is no tomorrow...
Never go single on a bicycle again....
Sit in class and sleep with my head lolling,oblivious to the teacher watching...
Play an extravagant backhand slice on the TT board again, the night before a semester exam...
Smell the stink of clothes soaked too long in the detergent...
Turn my room inside out after someone mistook a lizard for a scorpion...
See "all kinds" of movies with 10 people in a room,and bend double laughing at the comments...
Sit on the slab outside my room reflecting and dreaming about the wonderful life ahead...
Feel the Coke burn my eyes, the egg yolk running down my hair and the stinging kicks on wet denim, awarded for an 'achievement'...
Spend hours on the game of one upmanship with Pawan-creating absolute groaner puns...
Talk endlessly with Pawan and Pattu about the woman of my dreams who will bowl me over...
These are those small things that I wish for, the simple pleasures of life which I never thought twice about. A chance conversation with Vicky brought it all out. Its nearing a year since hostel life ended, so my mind inevitably keeps going back and thinking-What was I doing this day last year. I shall write one more post in May on the year that was and on so much that has happened since.
Go and eat in the familiar old mess again,bad food eaten with great friends, and never mind the taste!
Skip breakfast and have 2 vadas and a tea at 10.10 in the Snacky...
I could go to the Pearl Coffee shop at night , eat biscuits and feed the styrofoam cups to the cows again.
Order a glass of papaya juice for Rs. 6.00 at the Juicy, and laze around one hot afternoon after class,while quibbling with Pawan or Pattu or Vicky over who will pay..
I could be awakened by the sounds of Gyani's speaker blaring out Marilyn Manson's "This is the new shit"..
I could feel the wind in my face as I pedal uphill from the Bank to Octa...
I could get wet in the rain on Topaz terrace again,without a thought for tomorrow...
It took me several hours to walk through the corridor to my room again,talking to people on the way...
Go to Tabs or Meridian and eat like there is no tomorrow...
Never go single on a bicycle again....
Sit in class and sleep with my head lolling,oblivious to the teacher watching...
Play an extravagant backhand slice on the TT board again, the night before a semester exam...
Smell the stink of clothes soaked too long in the detergent...
Turn my room inside out after someone mistook a lizard for a scorpion...
See "all kinds" of movies with 10 people in a room,and bend double laughing at the comments...
Sit on the slab outside my room reflecting and dreaming about the wonderful life ahead...
Feel the Coke burn my eyes, the egg yolk running down my hair and the stinging kicks on wet denim, awarded for an 'achievement'...
Spend hours on the game of one upmanship with Pawan-creating absolute groaner puns...
Talk endlessly with Pawan and Pattu about the woman of my dreams who will bowl me over...
These are those small things that I wish for, the simple pleasures of life which I never thought twice about. A chance conversation with Vicky brought it all out. Its nearing a year since hostel life ended, so my mind inevitably keeps going back and thinking-What was I doing this day last year. I shall write one more post in May on the year that was and on so much that has happened since.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
When the boot is on the other foot....
Last week I saw "The Party", a 1968 Peter Sellers comedy.Sellers plays an Indian called Hrundy Bakshi, a film extra who is invited by mistake to a big Hollywood party instead of being fired. Sellers looks incredibly Indian and speaks with a very convincing accent too.
I sat in horror for the first half an hour, feeling completely outraged by what was happening onscreen. It was a horrible caricature of Indians in general and I felt it particularly distasteful.
In fact I think a movie like that wouldnt get away scot free today, without charges of racism surfacing.
And one of my good freinds here pointed out that Hindi movies are no different. And I agree with her.I have lost count of the number of times I have seen Tamilians(South Indians) being stereotyped in a highly ridiculous manner( esp the Late Mahmood).And nobody talks like that !!!
Of course having lived in a hostel with people from all over India,I do know none is spared-Bongs,Mallus,Punjabis,Biharis,Gultis et al-you name it!!
But I never found that as offensive or irritating, perhaps because they are Indians too (and also because everyone gives as good as they get!:-)
Maybe its my ego being hurt at the slight from a foriegner.Or I have become more sensitive about these issues after leaving India.
Infact that reminds me of another thing-the vision that people here have about India being an 'exotic' land of snake charmers and the like.And one of the professors actually told my room mate some drivel about Calcutta being a city with lots of snake charmers!!Now thats new!!
The general knowledge in this part of the world is practically non existent-but wait- I wont start on that now-lets save that for later.
When I went to the local Mall here I saw an "Indian shop".It sold things like wooden snakes and, hold your breath, "Hemchampa Agarbathee" and the humble old "Mooda"(now extinct bamboo stools:-)Well, thats the vision that they have of India!!
Coming back to what I was saying, whatever the reason, I do realise now that its not much fun when you are at the wrong end of the joke. I must be honest enough to admit that I would never have thought so much had the lead character been of some other nationality.
In retrospect I am glad that I saw that movie. Sometimes you need to be on the other side to get a better perspective.
It has made sure that next time I start a joke about that Sardarji, I will think twice.
(As an after thought,I must say Sellers is a brilliant actor)
I sat in horror for the first half an hour, feeling completely outraged by what was happening onscreen. It was a horrible caricature of Indians in general and I felt it particularly distasteful.
In fact I think a movie like that wouldnt get away scot free today, without charges of racism surfacing.
And one of my good freinds here pointed out that Hindi movies are no different. And I agree with her.I have lost count of the number of times I have seen Tamilians(South Indians) being stereotyped in a highly ridiculous manner( esp the Late Mahmood).And nobody talks like that !!!
Of course having lived in a hostel with people from all over India,I do know none is spared-Bongs,Mallus,Punjabis,Biharis,Gultis et al-you name it!!
But I never found that as offensive or irritating, perhaps because they are Indians too (and also because everyone gives as good as they get!:-)
Maybe its my ego being hurt at the slight from a foriegner.Or I have become more sensitive about these issues after leaving India.
Infact that reminds me of another thing-the vision that people here have about India being an 'exotic' land of snake charmers and the like.And one of the professors actually told my room mate some drivel about Calcutta being a city with lots of snake charmers!!Now thats new!!
The general knowledge in this part of the world is practically non existent-but wait- I wont start on that now-lets save that for later.
When I went to the local Mall here I saw an "Indian shop".It sold things like wooden snakes and, hold your breath, "Hemchampa Agarbathee" and the humble old "Mooda"(now extinct bamboo stools:-)Well, thats the vision that they have of India!!
Coming back to what I was saying, whatever the reason, I do realise now that its not much fun when you are at the wrong end of the joke. I must be honest enough to admit that I would never have thought so much had the lead character been of some other nationality.
In retrospect I am glad that I saw that movie. Sometimes you need to be on the other side to get a better perspective.
It has made sure that next time I start a joke about that Sardarji, I will think twice.
(As an after thought,I must say Sellers is a brilliant actor)
Friday, March 02, 2007
Read for yourself
It makes me feel sick, but being a man I suppose I have to face up too-to the realities that abound. I find it shameful that not passing lewd comments, or misbehaving with women in public, is by itself now a virtue.
http://www.anniezaidi.com/2006/03/streets-stories-strategies.html
No more words,they dont help at all.
http://www.anniezaidi.com/2006/03/streets-stories-strategies.html
No more words,they dont help at all.
Friday, February 16, 2007
One sunny winter day...
Well,..I am back...after almost a 5 month hiatus.In the interlude,I was pleasantly surprised by comments, complaints and attention the blog received from some of my regular readers.Infact I realised then that I have readers-who dont just stumble into it, like stones on a road but actually visit the site.
Ask me not why I didnt blog so long.Its certainly not for lack of things to say-in fact there is so much I dont know where to begin.But sloth-one of the sins of man-can certainly take the blame.
When I read my last post again,it certainly shows me the state of mind I was in.But that didnt prevail for long.As I had predicted,within days of writing that, a nice royal old fashioned screw in an exam cleared all the cobwebs of my mind .
What followed thereafter can only be described as an exercise in academic orgy-assignments followed relentlessly,mid terms beckoned with ominous notes,and the finals had started casting their shadows too.To quote Darwin, it was indeed the best of times and the worst of times.However I liked it, for finally I was busy again ,and moreover I had started getting the feeling that involuntarily at least, I was beginning to learn things.
My efforts bore fruit.Long due academic success did come to me, and savour it I did and now hope to continue that. I also had a great holiday,which ended all too early,in retrospect.The fag end of the holidays were some of the most dreariest days ever, spent in a ghost town.
It was almost idyllic.Things were all going as I had dreamed.
And then I learnt some valuable lessons as life just jerked the rug from under my feet. One of the most trite phrases in cricket-"Its never over till the fat lady sings"-came alive before me and I got a crash course on reality.Brings to mind one more proverb-"many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip".I can tell you that when the cup shatters in mid air and you are left gulping empty space instead of its contents, its not pretty.You go through the wonderful spectrum of emotions.Disbelief,anger,hate,frustration and finally acceptance.And when you finally accept,that is when you pick up the pieces and crudely make another cup ,glad for the fact that at least you can still have some tea even if not a cup full.
I would like to think that I have come out wiser from all that, and as always, I still hold onto the steadfast belief that what I deserve I will get,sooner or later.
I have intentionally written everything in a metaphoric way,for what means so much to me,may with reason ,be viewed by others as a trifle.After all each to his own!
Well now my life is a little empty again, not much work to do, and thats the reason why I turn to writing again.Let me see how the next few months turn out.
Finally,before signing off-something that I noticed just now myself.I have titled this post "one sunny winter day", and then gone off on a tangent.
Well, mercurial indeed.
Ask me not why I didnt blog so long.Its certainly not for lack of things to say-in fact there is so much I dont know where to begin.But sloth-one of the sins of man-can certainly take the blame.
When I read my last post again,it certainly shows me the state of mind I was in.But that didnt prevail for long.As I had predicted,within days of writing that, a nice royal old fashioned screw in an exam cleared all the cobwebs of my mind .
What followed thereafter can only be described as an exercise in academic orgy-assignments followed relentlessly,mid terms beckoned with ominous notes,and the finals had started casting their shadows too.To quote Darwin, it was indeed the best of times and the worst of times.However I liked it, for finally I was busy again ,and moreover I had started getting the feeling that involuntarily at least, I was beginning to learn things.
My efforts bore fruit.Long due academic success did come to me, and savour it I did and now hope to continue that. I also had a great holiday,which ended all too early,in retrospect.The fag end of the holidays were some of the most dreariest days ever, spent in a ghost town.
It was almost idyllic.Things were all going as I had dreamed.
And then I learnt some valuable lessons as life just jerked the rug from under my feet. One of the most trite phrases in cricket-"Its never over till the fat lady sings"-came alive before me and I got a crash course on reality.Brings to mind one more proverb-"many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip".I can tell you that when the cup shatters in mid air and you are left gulping empty space instead of its contents, its not pretty.You go through the wonderful spectrum of emotions.Disbelief,anger,hate,frustration and finally acceptance.And when you finally accept,that is when you pick up the pieces and crudely make another cup ,glad for the fact that at least you can still have some tea even if not a cup full.
I would like to think that I have come out wiser from all that, and as always, I still hold onto the steadfast belief that what I deserve I will get,sooner or later.
I have intentionally written everything in a metaphoric way,for what means so much to me,may with reason ,be viewed by others as a trifle.After all each to his own!
Well now my life is a little empty again, not much work to do, and thats the reason why I turn to writing again.Let me see how the next few months turn out.
Finally,before signing off-something that I noticed just now myself.I have titled this post "one sunny winter day", and then gone off on a tangent.
Well, mercurial indeed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)