i pods ROCK

I don't know how many people will read this. I really don't care!But this is for anyone who cares to listen

" I PODS ROCK!!!!"

Let me explain this emotion that I have shown.

It just so happens that I was gifted an iPod shuffle for my birthday. At the same time, the phone in my possession happened to be Nokia 5300 (music version - Xpress music - positioned as a phone with portable music). Having used this phone for 5 months, I was under the impression that there was no difference between this and any other music player(mP3 player). After all, it did have 1GB of storage space, awesome earphones and a convenient user interface - Nokia's premium music phone of its day. Why would anyone need anything else?
At the same time, many people have told me that Apple products were overrated. The Mac, the PC.... and even the iPod... I had heard them out.

Enter - i Pod --> this led to something I had never heard in my life - Perfection - the sound of music!My brains were blown out of my skull!!!.... Gosh.. The clarity of sound and the attention to detail, the delicate balance of bass and treble... It was any music lovers dream to listen to music so clear, loud and without distortions and crackling background noises.

Why I write this piece is, last night, before going to sleep, I put my phone for charging next to my head as usual. However, by chance, my phone headphones were lying around. I decided to listen some music before I fell asleep. And since Rock on seems to be the in thing these days, Rock on it was. It took me 20 seconds to turn it off. It was ghastly. After being pampered with such perfection, anything else seemed worse than ordinary.

How can people still throw stones at such a modern marvel?
Sheeeeesh!

Briton? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

The British are a funny race. In fact I can easily say that the British are the funniest people alive. The English Football team for example, is the biggest joke on earth, since the previous biggest joke winner (i.e. former England cricket team who's most outstanding feature was Andrew Caddick's ears.)It is only fitting that such a ridiculously funny country has Prince Charles as its figure head... well almost(I deliberately chose Prince Charles here cos he's way funnier than his mum. I almost die laughing on merely seeing the man.....).

Coming to think of it, anything and everything that the Brits have done since the sun set on that Great British Stiff Upper lip, has been a big joke. Rolls Royce, Jaguar, Cherie Blair's contraceptive promotion program(wait a minute, doesnt she have 4 kids?), Prince Charles, Margeret Thacher's hairstyle, their nuclear program(which is made to look like a toy gun arsenal when compared to the Soviet Program in the Yes Minister series), Prince Harry's war efforts, Mad cows, naming hills after Wimbledon's biggest loosers... this list is endless really.

Talking about Tim Henmen and Henmen Hills, another hilarious trait of the British is the way that they hero worship their "Sports achievers" (Read: looooosers). When England beat Australia in the Ashes after close to 3 billion attempts, they wanted to Knight Andrew Flintoff. Huh... When England fluked the Rugby world cup, they ACTUALLY knighted the captain of the team(I forgot the blokes name). In fact Knighthood has become such a joke now (hence getting back to the point of the article) that it wont be long before they start dishing out blue ribbons at souvenier stores. And since we are still on the topic of British stupidity and sports, doesnt it really crack you up when you hear David Beckham's squeeky tone? I can swear on all the British Gods that Posh Spice has a more manly voice! (My apologies to DB fans)

On a very serious note though, the British have really excelled at creating humour. :) . (See... told you that the Brits were a funny race!). What was started by Sir PG Wodehouse in the post war era(when that famous sun I was talking about, just set on the GBE) rubbed off on the theatre industry in Britain giving rise to some of the funniest, most delightful sitcoms ever. As a person who loves good humour, British Comedy has been RIGHT on the top of my "favorite pass time" list. Black Adder, Fawlty Towers, The Monty Python's Flying Circus, Allo Allo.............Aaaargh... another endless list... All very good examples confirming my argument.

One might ask why I suddenly came up with such a ridiculous blog. Well... What can I say... I'm jobless and my Mom's just returned from her holiday. Any guesses from where?...............

Hehehehehe... Right....

BRITON!

An ode to Music - Part I

Have you ever experienced maniacal rage only to be soothed by the sound of Music? Well I sure have and I am still wondering why its taken me so long to blog about something that is so important to me in my life - a funny sort of importance actually... like one of those computer programs running in the background which keeps the system alive.

Like I said, I LOVE music, but have never taken an active part in its creation. Though I've always wanted to learn to play the drums, I have not taken an initiative to do so.
Personally, I like western music created between the 60's and the mid 90s. Before I continue, let me list down my all time 10 most favorite bands (in no particular order other than the first )

1) Queen - My all time favorite band was held together by this chap called Freddie Mercury, who incidentally, happens to be an INDIAN!!! He was born and brought up as Farook Bulsara in one of the Parsee colonies in Bombay.... He is considered to be one of the greatest musicians thtr ever walked the earth

2) The Beatles - Need no introduction! Paul's the dude :)

3) Joe Satriani - The best thing I like about western music is those crazy guitar pieces. This man Satriani, is the best guitarist alive! He makes the guitar cry..... For those who are just starting to listen to Western music, Joe is a recommended option

4) GNR (Guns n Roses)- unconventional rockers with a starking raving mad lead singer who is supposed to be a god damn eccentric genius - Axl Rose is one of those guys who was able to tame the other members in the band who were SUPER STARS by their own right (Does Slash need an introduction?). These guys had THE most extravagant live shows after another of my favorites, Pink Floyd

5) Led Zeppelin - At one point of time, the 2 main members, (Bob Plant and Jimmy Page) were regarded to be the best duo around. Led Zeppelin again, created crazy unconventional music which was very easily identifiable and which began an era of musicians who tried to ape them. Funnily, their lighter songs are so soothing, one wonders how these pot heads could make the other hard music that they made.

6) Pink Floyd - Poetry in the musical form. Their music comes under the genre psychedelic rock and absolutely must be listened to when you're tripping on a happy beer high (or any other high!)

7) Aerosmith - Steven Tyler has a mouth which will put a rubber band to shame! For those who listen to Aerosmith, they will understand what I'm trying to say. Though I dont listen to ALL their music(they are one of the longest surviving bands in the history of music), the songs I do like of theirs, feature in my top 10

8) Deep Purple - I absolutely LOVE the energy that this group has on stage or in their songs. I heard "Highway Star" as a kid and instantly fell in love with the group.

9) Billy Joel - Singer, poet, sex symbol... you name it, he's done it. His "We didnt start the fire" is moving, provocative, amazingly melodious and one of those numbers which you end up humming for the rest of the week when you hear it for the first time.

And last but not the least,
10) Lynyrd Skynyrd - Most people would have not heard of this band but Im certain that everyone (who reads this blog or otherwise) has heard thier "SWEET HOME ALABAMA". SHA is an anthem of sorts but if one likes guitar pieces, then their one number (Free bird) has arguably the best guitar piece ever. A 14 minute track, the lead guitarist just LOOSES it for 9 minutes in the end. A must hear!

This is by no means an exhaustive list. Bands that I really love but missed the list (only cos these were the first 10 that came to mind) are THE WHO, Bon Jovi(esp for Richie Sambora), Stevie Vie, U2, Eric Clapton,CCR, Smashing Pumpkins, Metallica(their lighter numbers), Live, The Eagles, Nirvana, Bob Dylan.........................
In the next part, I shall try to list down all the numbers that I really love and must be heard by people who love good rock music (and not the contemprory trash they pass off as music).

If you havent passed out reading this yet... I apologise for getting carried away!

Confuscious.....the great thinker....

I usually have something in mind before I come online to post a blog. But today I'm blank. So take this as a kind of a warning and leave NOW when you can!!! Hehehe

Like I said, I have no clue as to what I am going to write. Pretty similar to the story of my life coming to think of it. Aaaah.. the story of my life would be a good topic now wouldnt it? ....................... (long pregnant pause)............... Sharks.. there isnt much!

Throughout my life, the choices I have made have always been results of rejecting other options. For instance, I took up Science in Std 11 for the simple reason that I sucked at the arty and commercy (new adjectives please note) subjects. Besides my childhood plans of wanting to become an elephant were not very financially viable (In these days of rising inflation, sugarcane too has its price). The fact that I was rather good at Maths (still am if I have to say so myself..... does anyone hear trumpets in the background?) kind of supported my decision to take up science.

Again, when it came to the time of choosing a career path, I rejected the option of taking up a pure science cos it wasnt cool enough. Medicine was out as I couldnt spell Biyoligy properly.... :D.... and I really dint want to bust my ass studying law. So I took the easy way out -> Engineering!

In engineering as well, I dint seem to have an inclination towards any subject in particular. So I took Mechanical only because the seat was free and I wasnt really enthu about anything anyway. Plus I was exceptional when it came to sketching (again, Trumpets anyone?) so this seemed to compliment my choice

Then I graduated. Dint have a clue as to what I wanted to do. However, I did know that Mechanical Engineering companies were not my cup of tea. And since Mechanical Engineering is an ever green subject, I took up the offer Infy gave me.
This is when everything in my life started going down hill!
3 years of misery led me to grab the first MBA college that came my way(NMIMS) but on retrospective thinking, I do not regret taking up admission here. Agreed, we are not half as good as the IIMs ... but nothing can be worse than doing a job which you are not good at. The pressure is immense cos you know you will never be able to excel even if you try.
There are somethings some people just cant do. My dad cant draw to save his life. My mom wont be chosen to play any sport even if she is the only person on earth..... Similarly, I cant code.


Wow... from where to where this blog came!....
As of now... I really dunno what I want to do in life. Nothing seems to be good enough for me and I dont seem to be good enough for anything. Mid life crisis has kinda found itself a very strong victim... ME....
Counselling from anyone who cares to read this blog, is welcome!

Mothered......

When it was announced that Mommy would be away for a month, I was aghast. We all loved her and wished that she had the best holiday anyone could ever dream of having..... you know.....The change of guard at Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, The Big Ben, Wimbledon, Lords, Hot crumpets and pots of steaming hot tea, Fish and chips, the Stiff British upper lip what?, Harrods, Etcetera, Etcetra AND the other spanish girls.........................................BUT WHAT THE HELL WERE WE GOING TO DO FOR 29 BLOOMING DAYS IN BENGALURU???????

Our first outing to the kitchen was close to disastrous. In our quest for the perfect Sambar rice, a meal which mummy would snap up in 10 mins, we almost brought the house down. It took us close to an hour and a half of bitter struggling to manage this meal - This AFTER she had left everything ready minus the seasoning(read: tadka) in the deepfreeze. As I wrestled with the microwave oven in an attempt to defrost the sambar, my dad decided to cut us a salad. 25 minutes later I figured it out - The defrost function had been conquered. EEEEHAWWW.... By this time, dad had even finished cutting an onion without the use of a band aid strip... What a man.... Bravo!.. We were on course to having our half-course meal

The next challenge was to make rice. So we put our chef's hats on again and put the water to boil. How much rice could 3 men eat? I reckoned about 4 cups. Dad wasnt very hungry... He being a top executive who has seen the world and me being that first class engineer that I claim to be, together redid the math and came to a mutual consensus that 2 and a half cups would be about enough (note: only later did we find Mom's note that we were to use only HALF A FULL small cup if we were really hungry)... I will leave it the reader's imagination as to what happened when we realised that raw rice absorbs water and expands in the chemical reaction that converts it to cooked rice. We dint cook rice again for a week.

Anyway, when we finally left the kitchen 2 hours later(completely exhausted, back pain, head ache and the rest of the jazz), it was closer to tea than lunch. Never the less, we were ravenous. The kitchen looked like two 1500 pound polar bears had just finished fighting for a mate as fur (read: bits of raw and cooked rice) and Sambar pools were all over the place.

It tasted good.......................................... ( Im sure...... to somalian refugees who hadnt eaten in around 47 and a half days......)................. Ahem.... No really.

We were too tired to turn on the washing machine so we retired for the day. It is then when it struck me that MOM IS SUPERWOMAN. She could make that Sambar Rice with a coupla side dishes, finish putting the clothes out to dry, watch her favorite soap opera, exchange juicy gossip with the neighbour, supervise the maid's efforts to clean the house, set the table for lunch, learn her musical instrument(the piano) AND look after us all in that time that we dedicated whole heartedly to come up with the "spread"(in the process seeing to it that the kitchen needed new interior decorating)

Mommy came back last night much to our relief. She made us a simple meal of Rice, Rasam and a side dish(20 mins mind you).... How we lapped it up!

Mumbai.... The Maximum City.

I'm sure that there will be many people after my blood once they finish reading this but I'll take a risk anyway! And for all those people who are used to reading my blogs, this is different in that I'm in a seriously shitty mood.

I came to Bombay, the city of dreams, some 6 months ago. I came here with the impression that I was going to live in one of the most prosperous cities in the world...the Financial hub of the nation... the City that never slept... The Maximum City.... Gosh...the names and captions were endless really....

BOY WAS I IN FOR A SURPRISE.

I landed at the SantaCruz Airport in Bombay and started disliking the place as soon as the auto got out of the Airport premises. IT WAS(IS) A FILTHY CITY. I am told that I traveled through some of the posher suburbs that day, to get to my destination (Andheri) . I can only imagine as to how clean the "not so posh" suburbs will be. Here are some of the things which changed the image that I had in mind and changed them rather violently.

Garbage Bins… A myth

Here, I don’t claim that Bangalore(the city where I grew up) is the cleanest city in the world. There are certain areas in Bangalore where even pigs would think twice before setting camp... But Bombay is something else altogether. It is not an uncommon sight to see an overflowing garbage bin here (and when I say over flowing, I mean that the garbage spills out to almost 10 metres away from the bin which is not really serving its purpose). The stench is unbearable and there are flies all over the place. And this even in posh areas, mind you.

Spit!!!

Spitting is the local pastime

The hygiene level of the people of Bombay seems to be primitive as they spit wherever they feel like. I know that I’m being a bit unfair by generalizing here but you will see red paan pools or thick gooey red blobs all over the roads and footpaths here. In fact, in the area where I stay, I get my daily dose of exercise as I hop scotch my way to college, trying all the time to avoid stepping into a fresh mound of spit(yes yes… not shit…spit).

It hurts and angers me to see people who do not respect what they have around them. (Like I said, I was in a shitty mood so bear with this for a while longer as I vent my frustration on whoever cares to read this)

The Local Trains

Here’s another bit that left me disappointed when I saw it for the first time. I have recently returned from Singapore where I stayed for 7 days. I used the Metro rail there, the pride of the city. I, not to feel left out, shot my mouth off claiming that it was nothing in comparison to the Mumbai local trains (I got weird looks that day and I wondered why). When I visited the Vile Parle station for the first time, I was SHOCKED. I was not that appalled by the crowd(or the spit pools and the fact that it smelt like a public latrine…I was used to all that by then). What I was shocked by was the fact that the whole system was very old and outdated. In the sense…the platform was crumbling at the edges, terribly cracked and eroded in places. Hygiene levels had hit all time lows (Even the ticket checkers were spitting at will) and trains were BURSTING at their seams.(Im assuming that trains have seams here)… Five million people a day….thats more than the population of relatively large countries in the world…that’s the number of people who use the Bombay Local trains everyday. Shouldn’t the Government take steps to make the system a better one? Shouldn’t the Government take steps to instill some pride into the people who use it by telling them that what they have is probably one of the best systems in the world? Shouldn’t the government spend a little more on maintaining the system? These were some of the questions that came to mind almost immediately. And after a 30 minute journey where I got storked (a new term that I am introducing here…I was on one leg for 30 minutes ... not very different from the posture of a stork) I came out visibly shaken and terribly disappointed

Uncovered Drains and nalas

Now is where I get slightly emotional. The reason why I have written this epic is because we just lost a classmate to Dengue fever. One would think that Dengue fever is contracted only in god forsaken places in back-of-beyond Africa where the mosquito population outnumbers the human population a 1000 times over. I was shocked to hear that Dengue fever is very rampant in Bombay during the monsoons. When I kept reading (on daily papers) about the mounting cases around the city, it did not do more that just surprise me. But when one of our classmates passed away in a span of 3 days, this was then when it hit me. Drains, the breeding ground of mosquitoes are open and have stagnant dirty water all throughout the year.

I could write a book on why I hate Bombay so much but I think I’ll just put a lid on it for now.

I hope I have not offended anyone too badly!

As I sit here 30000 feet above the ground, I can’t wait to get to Bangalore. It’s been 5 months since I left for Bombay to pursue another degree. The reason why I’m being so indifferent here is because in these 5 months, I have not changed much and have learnt sweet little from whatever has been done in the MBA course so far. To be honest, I am a bit disillusioned as I expected a lot more from the degree as well as the institute.

It’s hard enough hearing the sly “meant-to-hurt” statements at home very subtly reminding me that I didn’t get into an IIM or the fact that NO management institute in the country can come even close to being in the vicinity of an IIM. Now I’ll have to deal with my own little voice in my head telling me the same thing

5 months ago, I got off the flight with a gleam in my eyes and a spring in my step. NMIMS was a VERY good institute. It was the flagship course of the 90 odd courses that the management offered(yes, you read correct…90… Right from Underwear technology through Ice cream design to an MBA!) They had a 100% placement record and boasted of a 8.5 Lakh per annum average pay package. Being placed in the heart of Bombay, it was in the midst of the hustle bustle of the business hub of the country. How much behind the IIMs could it have been anyway? After all, we were located in a much better place and weren’t too far behind on the pay scales. This is what I had thought.

I maintain even now, that NMIMS is by itself, a very good B school. But there’s something about the place which gets on my nerves. Perhaps it’s the management which is so greedy that they churn out new courses by the hour just so that they can make more revenue without realizing that the institute is not designed for even HALF the present number of students on the rolls. It could also have something to do with the fact that we don’t have a “campus” par se. My engineering was done in (again) a very mediocre institute – MIT Mainpal.(perhaps comparatively, not even as big a name as NMIMS in the B School world) But at MIT, we got fantastic facilities in the form of excellent hostel rooms, numerous tennis courts, Badminton courts, an Olympic sized swimming pool(well almost!...43m) a couple of HUMONGOUS grounds and so on and so forth.

In the first few weeks, I accepted all these aesthetic drawbacks and space constraint issues that the college faced. I mean, the quality of the students was still GREAT right?

But then we had the Summer placement week. Its only when I saw what a struggle it was to get a job. Its another thing that I got placed on day 1(I’m not boasting. I’ll explain) What worried me was that I got 10 rejects before I got this job solely because I have “TOO MUCH” IT experience on my CV. Too much experience….unheard of right? Well, its true and is proved by the fact that I was grabbed by the first IT company on campus(Wipro Technologies Limited). To be very honest, I was kinda hoping that I wouldn’t be sucked back into IT again. But now it seems I might be doomed to be in it.

I’m digressing from the topic here. What I wanted to really bring out with this blog is that if NM is as good as it claims it is, why did I, someone with 33 months of work experience, have to struggle so much to get a job? I asked around and found out that the scene wasn’t very different at the other non IIMs. Slightly better than NM, but not even close to the IIMs. We have been able to place close to 200 people now out of the batch strength of 350 odd. This in 3-4 weeks mind you. From these 200, we have managed only 2 foreign profiles(that to back of beyond Hong Kong somewhere). Compare this to IIM C last year who placed their entire batch of 240 students in 2 days with a whopping 97 foreign profiles!!! 97. Man… how depressing is that?

I know that all is not over till the fat lady sings. But it really hurts to know that we are so far down in the food chain. And all because we didn’t do as on that ONE day when we went to give an exam by the name of a stupid domestic animal.

Life is a bitch.

GARBA........................GE

After a monstrous examination fortnight (refer to my post about me being the next Bhetan Chagat minus 3) and a crazy pardy the night after the last exam, I was juuuust done with a painful Summer placement week(I got placed btw..whopee!!!) . Here I was, harmlessly chilling in the library and catching up with a movie when my friend Neha came and dropped the bomb

"COME FOR GARBA (GE)"....she bellowed(her mobile phone, I keep reminding her, is a redundant object - she really doesn't need one even for long distance calls )

I was slightly alarmed because it sounded like a threat at first and this woman, apart from having the vocal chords of 850 pound grizzly bear in heat, happens to also be particularly violent. So when she said GARBA, I immediately sprung onto my feet in self defence.(fists all balled up, elbows bent, Rocky style). When I came to my senses (hey come on...I was shell shocked) she explained to me what a GARBA was..... Let me mention here that this DID NOT make the situation better.

I dont know if you people are aware of what Garba(ge) really is. But for all those who dont, its the most hideous action of moving ones arms and legs(in unison with other willing people or suckers like me) to the sound of garba(ge) music (read: garbage music) into a sight which might make a normal human being(like me.... no jokes here) pass out when he/she witnesses it. In simple words, its a form of DANCE.

Dancing my dear friends, has always been one area in which klutzy old me has always had a problem. I wouldn't exactly be termed as John Travolta because what gives me away almost instantly when I get onto the floor (*grimace*) is that I just CANNOT camouflage the fact that I have 2 left feet. Its another thing that I do a perfect 10/10 "grease lightening" once Ive downed a couple of beers(just like JTV... Infact he must have picked up his moves from me when I was at Purple Haze or something).

The fact of the matter is, however, that I was stone dry sober. So not surprisingly, my immediate answer to her question or rather statement, was a loud NO... Thats when all the persuading, bribing, threatening, begging, kicking and punching started and me being the nice guy I am (and NOT weak livered as per popular belief) finally gave in. They say you can take a horse to the water but you cant make it drink the water......... If I was for one moment assumed to have equine characteristics and was forcefully dragged to a sewer, the following 2 hours saw the whole proverb being re-written. Not only was I made to drink the water, but was almost drowned in it!
One word to describe my experience

TERRIBLE

To make matters worse, I was looking like one of those lost kittens in a kurta with a flap around my neck(dress code apparently). And when I was told that I had to pay 250 bucks (1/4th of a frigging grand) to enter the place, my heart almost stopped beating. Two hundred and frigging fifty Gandhis.... that could get me 2 full Tandoori birds at Arafa(I say "bird" here because if what I get on the plate at Arafa is a chicken, then I can easily call myself Brad Pitt... I hope the Arafa restaurant owner is illiterate and never reads this blog)
Anyway, like I was saying, the cost for entry was so high because the singer (of the Garbage music mentioned above) happened to be some demi-goddess of sorts. Falguni Patuck or someone. So I took 10 deep breaths and payed up in the hope that it wouldnt be as bad as I had thought it would be......... It was worse.

Imagine 15000 deranged people all in comical garb looking maniacally happy and dancing at the same time. Its hard but try. Thats the scene I saw when I entered.
When I say happy here, I mean ecstatic. So happy that I'm not able to describe it...wait... I'll try.... mmmm... ok.. here goes - one chap I saw there jumping like a monkey was so happy that it looked as though 2 litres of steroids had been pumped into his veins and that he was VERY VERY high on sugar. If he smiled any wider, he could have been arrested. No kidding. And around 1/5th of the people there were like that(if my math is correct, thats about 3000 people.)

It got worse when Mrs Patuck waddled onto the stage and started crooning(croaking) her tunes. Those 15000 people went absolutely crazy. I actually saw one girl crying. I almost went up to her and consoled her but half way there I realised that she was crying like how I would cry if I saw John Lennon performing on stage. With all due respect to Mrs Patuck, I think I prefer the Beatles (Wow... hows that for an attempt at being over-diplomatic?) Doing everything short of putting my hand over my ears(in the fear of getting killed by an enraged fan for insulting the crooning hippo errr... singer), I scrambled to the food counters. I was depressed and I needed something to eat...ANYTHING to eat... I bought something that looked like a vada paav(Have you read my blogs on how much I detest Vada Paav? So you can imagine what I was going through if I willingly went up and paid for a Vada paav).
On taking the first bite, I realised that it was SWEET...A gujarati dish....a gujurati dance.... I almost puked(No offence to the Gujjus here... I love the people but I hate their food)... I begged God to wake me up from the nightmare (Disclaimer: All the events chronicled so far are not entirely true)...................

And 25 mins later it was over!The tradition at the end of the whole farce(which is done around circles made of about15 people) is to finish off with something like a "ringa ringa roses"...only thing being its a little more vulgar sounding. So when 1000 "HUSHA BUSHA WE ALL FALL DOWN"s are done together, the effect is close to 4.5 on the Richter.(this is NOT counting Mrs. Patuck.... gosh... Am I gonna get lynched for this?)

That was that. I had made it out alive!!!!....
So if any one who has read this pays up and goes for a Garba(ge) , NEVER say that I didn't warn you....!!!!

*clap* *jig* *clap* *shake that booty* *clap* *clap* *clap*

Aaaah..and after a long period of hibernation, IM BAAACK FOLKS!
And when I did get back, I found this "tag" from Purnima. Im new to blogging so it took some time for the fact to sink into my thick skull that she meant that I had to actually do something about her request rather than wonder as to why my name was on her blog.

So without wasting more of your time by typing in 4 line sentences, I shall get to it right away.
Before I start,I would like to just mention that the reader needs to be above the age of 18 and mentally very very strong to go through the rest of this mail. Hows that for a disclaimer huh? :P

1. What did you have for breakfast?
Considering the fact that my rear got out of bed at 1:30 in the afternoon, I'll consider this a trick question... HAAAAAH...hows that huh?

2. As a kid you were scared of?
I was scared that I would wake up and find that i had not studied for a test!!! (fireworks at home if I failed...god knows what will happen when they realise that I MAY be a 2 point someone soon!!!)


3. Define the following in one word - (max. 2 words)

Karma - The phrase I used on my mom when I needed her car... mostly it would be followed with a NO from her...(i used more than 2 words.. SUE ME....)

Dictionary - Pillow

Kids - Pains in the butt..(4 words....PPPPPBBBBBBBBBTTTTHHH)

Your PC/ Laptop - Lifeline


4. Something that you crave to eat RIGHT NOW!
Tandoori Prawn ..... slurp

5. The last person you sent an sms to?
My fat friend Neha!!!

6. Memorable Rakshabandhan gift received (gals!)/ gifted (guys!)?
Baaah..... try again

7. What colour is your life? n why? (1 colour only, plz)
Black..... mmmmm... well...not everything is going as planned!

8. You see Dhoni buying a Tennis ball @ a Sports shop near your place... you....
Run out of the shop...cos if his fans come in and see me, I'LL BE MOBBED...(I'm a bigger star!!!)


9. Greatest feeling in the world?
Getting pooped out after a hot game of tennis...I badly need one now!


10. Most disgusting thing that you came across..
mmm...naaah...too many children reading this...:P


11. Your fav serial/ match/ film going on ... when BANG! goes the cable.. you

a. switch off TV, Switch on PC n log in to Orkut/ Yahoo etc.



12. English is a very funny language because..........?

cos I dont get jokes in Hindi or Konkani!

13. Current weather reminds you of...............
A cow taking a piss in the middle of the road... oh wait... did you say "current weather"?


14. Have you ever had a crush on your teacher?
65 year old Anglo Indian women are OLD, WRINKLY, WHITE and too sweet to have crushes on


15. 2 lines about this girl called 'Purnima' .... (plz no, ever gigglin, bit crazy, blogs regularly n all...that she already knows.... something that will make her go 'wow! is that true??'... No flattery, negative remarks accepted, just don't be rude :P, honest answers please!)
Errrrr...... 2 lines...ok... here goes...

I dont
know Purnima much.... Howzzat?
Hehehehehe...but I wouldnt mind getting to know her though...

We thank you Mr. Flintoff

I suggest that we dedicate our World Cup victory to one Mr. Andrew Flintoff...


I even propose that the BCCI should pay 1/4th of the promised 2 million dollars to Andrew Flintoff as a token of gratitude....

3 Cheers for Freddie Hip Hip......

To hit the stands soon...

2 POINT SOMEONE......

I'll be the author in case you didn't get this....

Please contribute and buy the unpirated version because if we go by the way my exams are going at the moment, that will be my only means of earning bread....

P.S. I accept voluntary contributions.

Letter to Santa.... Christmas is coming.

Dear Santa
These are the following list of things I want for Christmas

1) Metallic Pink coloured Mercedes Benz(atleast S Classe....Maybach would do) with blue polka dotted hub caps and balloon tyres (must I mention bright red leather interiors with my favorite ducky hanging on the rear view mirror)

2) A bazooka(it will come in handy in college....)

3) A Rolex.....simple diamond studded one will do....

4) Apple I-phone.......nothing too fancy...the white one is simple

5) A Sony Vaio..... My Lappy is big, bulky, big, ugly, big, heavy, big and big(did i mention that its big?)

6) A beach villa in Goa. Now im not asking for one as big as Mr. Mallya's...I dont want to look greedy now

7) A 45 day world cruise on a 7 star luxury liner....oh...ok....not a luxury liner...a 5 star cabin will do.....*sigh*

Please find attached all my other lists(grouped by item cost..For example file name "30 lakhs and above" contains the things I want which cost Rs. 30 Lakhs and above. The Yatch and the Lear jet are in the "Miscellaneous" file)

Regards,

J

P.S. I have been a good boy.....
P.P.S. Promise
P.P.P.S. I swear on God....err...wait... I swear on Hritik Roshan....(muhuhahahahahhahaha...One celeb down, Shah Rukh to go)

Roger gets Rogerred!!

Our summer hols, when we were little, were always spent at my Grandpas place in Madras. When I say "we" here, I'm referring to my cousins and me. It was a ritual that we all loved because like all grandpas, ours used to spoil us like crazy - Spoil us so bad, that we never really minded the heat of Madras!

And apart from other things, Grandpa liked his afternoon siesta like how people need air to breathe... We would fall all over him as he slept and he would ask us to press his legs and give him a head massage and so on... we loved that part of the day... And then he would go into a deep slumber and we would be paraded out of his room by one of his daughters(either my mom or one of her sisters)

On one such afternoon, once grandpa had reached his 14th or 15th wink, we started our daily round of hide-and-seek in his huge 1st floor house. (Huge is a gross understatement....It was palatial...built during British Raj days. And since we were very small, it looked MUCH larger than it was). It was a large bungalow with a first floor and on the ground floor, lived the landlord and his wife.(The Raghavans, an elderly couple). The house had a large court yard(20 metres by 30 metres) which was Mrs. Ragahvan's garden cum car park.

Now the Raghavans, happened to own this HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE Doberman........It would have been much taller than us if it was on 2 legs. I have to say that we werent very big then, but still. And to add to the misery, it was a monster....A postman's nightmare, the milkman's biggest fear and one of the most ferocious things I have ever seen in my life....Im sure it would have gotten along really well with the inmates of the lions cage at the zoo. The dog, Roger(no offence meant to Federrer but that was its name) would bark ferociously at any passerby and had to be kept tied with a large iron chain when people visited the Raghavans...Fat chance of saying "OOOOH....Cute doggie...want a biscuit???"...in such a case, Roger would have taken the biscuit and a better part of your hand in the process...

Back to that eventful afternoon. I was the denner and while I was counting to 100(which was an effort in those days) with my face to the huge grill on the balcony, I spotted this large billy goat hanging around the front gate of the house. Like I mentioned, there was a large courtyard between the house and the gate and that used to be Rogers playground in the afternoons, when the chains were removed. He would run about like a lion in the wild and there were times when all of us would just observe him in awe from the balcony.

By some freak chance, the goat happened to get into the premises. Mr. Raghavan must have forgotten to lock the gate and the goat must have fancied the garden and come in for dessert. When I was somewhere between 57 and 59(I was counting remember?), Roger realised that there was an intruder in his domain.I gave up counting and yelled for my cousins to come and catch the matinée show. As expected, Roger went charging at the goat, tongue out, saliva oozing from his mouth, embers in his eyes and other special effects!

As Roger charges towards what seems to the readers, his victim, let me get down to describing the old goat(wow...always wanted to use "old goat" in my blog) The goat was by no means a push over. Equally matching Roger in size, this guy had a huge pair of horns and was not the types who ends up on the dinner table as "Mutton chops". When Roger reached the goat, he went for its throat like how those mean dogs in Nazi war films were taught to do to their victims. What Roger didn't realise was, that he wasn't in a Nazi movie. The Germans had lost the war and their dogs (Rogers uncles from his mothers side), had lost the canine glory they had once been part off. The goat very quickly turned 180 degrees and with a quick flick of its hind legs, caught Roger right in the face.

I don't know if any of you have heard what happens when you step on a puppy's tail. My building friends and I(in Bangalore) have long since graduated from stamping puppies tails....Now a days, we tie fire crackers to their tails and light them(the firecrackers of course. We wouldn't want to be cruel to those poor things by burning their tails now would we?)...the effect is much the same as the sounds which came out of Rogers throat and apparently, the howls were heard one kilometer away at the post office(The postman confirmed gleefully on the following day!). By now, the balcony seats(literally) were taken. A groggy eyed grandpa came running out to see what the commotion was all about.

Roger was taking a licking(Note: This sentence will NEVER be uttered on a modern tennis circuit). Every attack of his was getting butted away and there came a point when the goat started chasing Roger. The fun and frolic that was coming from the balcony, the high fives, peels of laughter, the deep guffaw emanating coming from my grandpas throat and the high pitched shrill yells of my female cousins along with Rogers shrieks for mercy in dog language must have risen poor Mr. Raghavan up. He came running out and with great difficulty leashed Roger again. He managed to shoo the goat out, just as it had started on its dessert.

By now, our stomachs were paining!..... I will never forget the words that came out of Mr. Raghavan's mouth till the day I die....

He looked up, all embarrassed and said slowly...." The goat is lucky I came out.....else we would have had mutton biriyani for dinner today....."...................

YEAH SURE MR. RAGHAVAN....WE WOULD LIKE FRIES AND COKE WITH OUR ORDER!!!!

Letter to GOD: PLEASE wake me up once September ends

There are times in your life when you feel that things just couldn’t get worse….that the whole world is getting at you….these are times when you feel defeated – like a loser.

I’m almost there at the moment. With the proliferation of projects, came an unseen weight around my neck…the weight that has got my neck on the guillotine.

And with just a fortnight to go for my trimester exams, the probability of me coming out in flying colours is slightly lower that a pregnant cow wearing 2 pairs of Bermudas and playing golf with Mickey mouse’s mother in law…..

Ok ok…never mind that last statement…Hehehehe…

Here are some of the things that are pending…

1) Group projects(I lost count of how many need to be submitted…At last count, it was 5 projects….. The whole group is going down I think…..)….to be submitted between 3^rd and 6^th of Sept

2) Marketing paper presentation – Day after tomorrow….oh wait…make that tomorrow…its 2:45 in the morning and I’m not in bed!

3) Fin assignments (group and individual) – by 6^th

4) Mid term test with complete portions in MTP (also read: IM SO SCREWED)

5) Article review(individual) in MTP by 3^rd…*sigh*

6) And then the exams start on the 17^th… 11 papers out of which I still dunno the NAMES of some subjects..(no kidding here)

And that’s only at the tip of the ice berg… To add to the misery, we have classes everyday from 9 to 5:45 in the fricking evening…

OH GOD…WAKE ME UP AFTER SEPTEMBER ENDS….

Starch Wars.......The Potato strikes back

Ever since I have come to Mumbai, I have developed this deep phobia for the Potato(note how I am treating it like a person). One might think that it is only a common vegetable which harmlessly finds its way into ones plate in some form or the other. One might also think that I’m unnecessarily getting paranoid…

BUT TRUST ME…ITS EVIL….NOOO NOOOO NOOOOO… (starts stabbing himself lest he is forced to eat mashed potatoes for dinner)

But seriously… I used to be a respected Aloo loving citizen before I came to Bombay. In fact, I was a BIG fan of French fries(I’ve always wondered why they were called French fries though..I mean..the potato was Indian, the oil was Indian, it was being made in a bloody Indian house…but I might be getting a little too sensitive) I used to be the kind of person who would actually ASK for seconds when it came to those hot Aloo parathas with those big melting blobs of butter on them. And being a patriotic Indian cricket fan who is supposed to congenitally hate the Pakistani team, I used to actually admire Inzamam “aloo” Huq’s batting.(btw, I always wondered why such an innocent, harmless, seemingly peaceful hippopotamus faced bloke changed into a VIOLENT BLOOD THIRSTY MONSTER when someone in the stands called him Aaloo… Now I totally empathise)

Baaah… look at me now. I used to be a food lover…… A person who lived to eat… Now I grimace and wince everytime my stomach starts to rumble in hunger. I know that there is going to be SOME form of aaloo in the meal…
Heres what a typical day’s menu looks like

Breakfast( 8:30-9:00)

AALOO Paratha (very generous stuffing I must say) + curd
OR
Poori and AALOO Bhaaji
OR
Masala Dosa (no guesses as to what the Masala is made up of!!!...Theres so much Masala in it that it bulges out of the sides andit makes me puke to even think of it…)
OR
AALOO poha (poha = beaten rice… You have to search for it in the mixture really… )

Morning snack(10:45-11:00)

VADA PAAV --> For the record, the only thing I like less than vada paav is Britney Spears’ music and seeing Hrithik Roshan’s face. YES YES…I’m NOT kidding…

It is the most HIDEOUS food item EVER created. For all those lucky(read: ignorant about the whereabouts of VP) people, it is this disgusting blob of blaaaaaaaand mashed potato(not very well mashed also cos very often you get HUGE chunks of potato half the size of Zimbabwe coming into your mouth….ewwww) hurriedly placed between the local bread (paav). You must have heard of people asking for SCOTCH with mineral water and then as an after-thought telling the waiter to hold the water…. Well….In my case, with regards to Vada paav, it is NOT an after thought and I without fail ask the vada paav vendor to hold the Vada. It is at this point when I invariably get a very very very hurt look from him. Almost as though I stamped all over his ego and spat on it before kicking it into a pile of shit. Gosh…I really hate Vada paav..is it obvious?

OR
AALOO Samosa Paav. Slightly more tolerable as this gets remotely tasty at times

LUNCH (2:00-2:30)

Oh boy…heres where the REAL bit starts.

It would be a real shame if I spoil this part by saying that the only thing that they serve in the canteen without potatoes in it is the water…. But that could also be partly incorrect as I have actually seen that canteen chap remove thi humongous raw potato out of the jug before pouring me a glass of water.

Anyway… Heres what we get with AALOO PARATHAS at lunch(any one or more of the following Sabjis

1)AALOO capsicum

2) AALOO gobi

3) AALOO methi

4) AALOO jeera

5)Dumb AALOO (muhuhahahaha…I actually like this one…...............NAAAAAH)

6) AALOO cabbage

7) AALOO with beans

8) AALOO Raitha

9) AALOO rice

And not to forget, last but not the least,

10AALOO AALOO (this one is the chef’s specialty really…he outdoes himself everytime)

Then depending on the starch intake of the day, I make the all important decision of whether I should have a snack in the evening or not.(I’m a budding manager after all…Managers take decisions)

If I’m hungry (which is almost always the case…but sometimes I force my brain to think that Im not hungry…) I end up having AALOO bhujiya or AALOO Bonda along with a steaming cup of tea(the saving grace of the meal)

Dinner which happens anytime between 8 and 10 consists of pretty much the same things that were available for lunch.

So people...now you must be knowing why my Gmail profile is almost invariably anti AALOO ?
Yup...You got it right... I'm at war ... This is the STARCH war... And I will win I tell you
* Yells a blood curdling war cry and attacks the enemy with a knife *


Cheers..... good night



P.S. In a study conducted in MIT, it was proved that a person gets demented when spotted around potatos at all times. Unfortunately, we dont know much about it as the people who conducted the experiment met their demise in the most gruesome way known to man. The Autopsy reports claim that the cause of death was Starch poisoning but I wont be surprised if a piece of potato jumped out of their plates and stabbed them to death....

More on smart people....

When a faaaaaamous Kannada super star was kidnapped by faaaamous forest brigand somewhere in South India(im not going to take any names...heheheh) there was a lot of turmoil in the city. Political parties siezed the initiative and started recruiting respectable citizens who have nothing to do all day(Read: jobless hooligans who dont like to see anything new and shiny). The new recruits were all given crowbars in one hand and a beer bottle in the other and were asked to do "their" stuff. Ofcourse, more beer was promised after the job well done! YAAKE COOL DRINK MAGAAA??!!??

So we had these semi drunk youths, not more than 16-18 years of age who I BET would not have seen even one movie of the above (very subtly) mentioned super star, going around bashing things up, throwing stones on glass, checking out boiling points of rubber by conducting heat experiments on tyres, and in general creating a lot of commotion in the city.
And since I live on the 4th floor of an apartment complex facing Airport road, I was able to get prime time entertainment by just opening a window(WINDOWS new version raaa!). On one of those days, there were these bunch of hooligans who were thrasing things outside our building. And a very hilarious thing happened....

This dude climbs a tree with a sickle in his hand... It wasnt a very tall tree - 6 to7 metres in height. Obviously our man must have had a little too much to drink because what seemed to be a fairly easy climb to the shortest branch took him some 4-5 attempts. Full marks for determination though..the country needs lads like these in the Army.
Annnnnyway....On reaching the branch, he made himself comfortable over there for a while as he saw his fellow revellers bring down flower pots, hoardings and anything that was standing. I guess he was feeling left out for not contributing to the noble cause so all of a sudden, with a rejevenated surge of enthusiasm, he sat up. He then changed his position by turning 180 degrees. So now he was sitting on the branch facing the trunk.
I suppose there arent many brighter souls around because what he did next, defied all laws of human common sense(If there are such laws ofcourse). He started hacking the branch with all this might - the portion in between him and the tree - with the sickle which he had hauled to the top. My brother, who was standing besides me, was already rolling about on the floor laughing and I was nearly there. My mother, who had given up hope on the city, was busy washing clothes. So when the branch came down, I was the only person in the family who had the honour of seeing the man land bang in the centre of his rear.
All good things come to an end they say...I dont think he ever went next to a tree after that!!!!

Ive done a LOT of gutsy things in my life...(Ahem....cant think of any now but thats irrelevant) but this is the first time I am actually checking mail/blogging/chatting while sitting in class!
These are the perks which come with VERY SHORT TEACHERS...She wont be able to see me even if she repeatedly jumps (after getting on top of her desk) and trains her eyes on me...Needless to say, Im sitting on the last bench!

In the 3 weeks that I have spent at a BEE SKOOL, I have learnt that they dont teach much here. 99.999% of the people have come here to get placed....Of that 99.999%, 80% have come from IT backgrounds, and like me, are looking to "append their profiles" with an extra degree.........Oh btw..thats what I told those dudes in my interview. Apparently they bought it and here I am.

Another very wierd thing about this School is the fact that we have classes on weekends as well... In fact, the best classes happen on Saturday and Sunday when you have REAL managers coming over and giving us dreary, dark lectures on how mean the big bad world is outside. To compensate the fact that we are working on Sundays, we get a day off on Monday(huh...big bloody deal!)...
The lectures during the week are torture... Here are some of the things I do in class to stay awake...

1) Read the days papers..(do the Sudoku and so on)
2) Use toothpicks as props(to keep the old Eyelids open)
3) Sleep at the back of the class when the projector is turned on(they generally turn off the lights then)
4) play cows and bulls with my classmates(no no...they dont allow animals into campus..its a highly intellectual game which keeps us from hurting ourselves..in the sense, if we werent playing it, we would be banging our heads on the tables in front of us to pass time)
5) play book cricket and give the impression to the teacher that we are listening intently(an intelligent face like mine will help here)
6) Think about lunch
...

The list is endless really...

And before I bore you people to DEATH, I shall stop here.

BUS KARO....

Its been ages since I boarded a local bus but whenever anyone mentions the word "bus" to me(even if they mean "ENOUGH!!!"), my thoughts go to some of my "cherished" moments spent on those 6 wheeled monsters.

The first of these incidents happened when I was much younger (when I was a "good" boy whose sole aim in life was NOT to learn all the bad words in different languages)... I boarded a bus from my stop on Airport Road and pushed my way to the middle. The bus was really crowded that day. The conductor came along and asked me where I wanted to go.

I have always been told that I should lower my voice as it is very loud. I have never paid heed to good advice. So when I replied as to where I want to go, my voice reverberated in the confines of the bus compartment....

"SOOLEY* CIRCLE", I boomed..... Though I didn’t think it was funny, most of the people there did... And for all those people who didn't hear me the first time (not many of those around thankfully), the "destination" was repeated for their benefit. I guess it was my innocent face (NO WISE REMARKS HERE PLEASE) that saved me that day!

The second incident happened during my stint (prison sentence?) in Madras. By now, I was a much older lad (And NOT very "good" anymore...). Since I hadn’t been in Chennai for long, I didn’t know the customs and practices of the place (and meanings of most bad words for that matter). Even bus-etiquette (if there exists such a phrase) was new to me. So I just entered an empty bus (a rarity in Chennai) from the back door, a custom followed in Bangalore buses**, and plonked my rear on the first seat I could set my beads on. Unfortunately*** for me, that seat happened to be the first one on the left side of the aisle. Since the bus had just entered the terminus, it started filling up slowly and as the people, women in particular, boarded the bus, the looks I got, became blacker by the minute. Oblivious to the surroundings, I put that familiar "innocent" look on my face and continued to remain seated.

Enter virago.....All of a sudden, this lady came up to me and started abusing me left-right-centre. (I must say that I appreciate her efforts because my bad language vocabulary in Tamil improved at a geometric rate as she continued on her verbal diarrhea)."RUTTA KUTTA SUTTA PUTTA LUTTA MUTTA RUTTA KUTTA PUTTA" ****...Oh she went on and on and on.

Initially I thought she was mad and was just venting her fury out on a foreigner.(Note: Non Tamilians are foreigners in Chennai). So I sat on, trying to enjoy the scenery around me. Then, for no sane reason whatsoever, she started tugging at my shirt. Decibel levels had reached an all time high and the "RUTTA"s and the "KUTTU"s were flying about like it was not funny. It is only then when I looked around. I noticed that everyone around me (Women, children, others) were ALL giving me dirty looks. At that moment, the conductor (who was sitting with a smirk on his face throughout) waddled into the scene and explained to me in flawless English that IN CHENNAI(he said that a bit too loudly...as if to tell me that in Chennai, you do as the Chennaites do.....), the seats on the left were all "reserved" for women an children. Another few minutes and the lady might have torn me apart.... I got up and hurriedly got out of the bus!!!

Ever since, I have not boarded a bus. Who knows what else is in store for me when I decide to use that form of public transport again??!!??

* Sooley, as was explained(not so nicely) by the conductor who was not amused, is a term in Kannada for prostitute..... Apparently, I should have said "SHOOLAY circle” which is a legitimate destination in Bangalore....So much for one little "H"......

** The Local buses in Bangalore have 2 doors, one being in the front next to the driver and the other at the back near the rear tyre. Ladies enter from the front door, everyone/thing else enters from the back door. Also, the first few rows in the front on either side of the central aisle is "reserved" for Women, children and handicapped people.(Gender equality? naaaaah)

*** Why unfortunate? Well....the "reservation" for women in Chennai buses is(unlike in their Bangalorean counterparts) all the seats on the left side of the central aisle

****Censored for the sake of my young readers!

My First Ambition in life and how it was accepted at home

Adult Male voice: “Hey there Johnny …what do you wanna be when you grow up?”
Childs voice: “I wanna be a HUSTLER”!!!!!

Relax folks….neither am I Little Johnny nor have I fancied a career in criminology….this is an excerpt from a song which NEVER fails to make me laugh as it makes me remember all the things I wanted to be as I “grew up”!
At no point of time in my life had I ever imagined myself to work for a software company. This little episode brings out my first “real” ambition in life, the first of a long string which continues to grow as I sit here.

The earliest recollection of my wanting to be ANYTHING would go back to when I was around 4 when I announced to everyone that I wanted to become an elephant. That was at a birthday party where all us “chutkoos” were shepherded around a table and asked to say something for 2 minutes each…something on what we wanted to be when we grew up…a more adult version of that activity would involve only the fairer sex and would fetch answers like “I want to be like Audrey Hepburn” or the more clichéd ones like “Mother Teresa has always been my driving force in life…”…
The only difference between the two situations would be that when I said that I wanted to be an elephant, I really wanted to be one… (Let’s not kid ourselves… Anyone who takes part in a pageant is not going to be playing Florence Nightingale to the poor for the rest of her life…). The fact is that I was really fascinated (to the extent of infatuation) by those big creatures (still am) especially by the way they flap their ears. I always wanted to do that. I guess it would be no surprise if I say that one of my favorite films is a Walt Disney creation called DUMBO.
Anyway, this little incident caused a little uproar at the gathering and fetched me an encore from all the aunties but by the time the cake was cut, everyone had forgotten about it. Everyone but me and my distraught mother (who wasn’t please at my ambitions…NO SIR she wasn’t!!)
I guess this was the ONLY exception…the ONLY TIME when my mother has ever interrupted my dreams… After the party, we had a little mother to son one on one in the car(I was 4 years old mind you) where she tried to change my mind. She was a terror on the road that day and was making BTS bus drivers cringe in fear…..Her son, the same bloke she had carried around for 9 months wanted to become an elephant…..boy was she mad!

It was a well-prepared extempore (oxymoron?) wherein I was given an extensive insight on how mundane the beast’s life was. (“They only eat and sleep all day” said she with a disgusted look on her face…it sounded perfect but I didn’t mention it as she was visibly flustered)…After the speech, she asked me to think of something interesting, something which I could become without going a few rungs lower in the mammalian hierarchy……so I racked my brains and pondered for a long time(in those days, that period would range between 1 and 4 minutes depending on the distractions around) and I told her(after that “long time”) that I wanted to become the Commissioner of Police….
I don’t know if you folks have even seen how puris are made in the kitchen, but on very similar lines my mother, all of a sudden, bloated up with pride (all that she has lost at the party due to my “ambitious plans” and more)… the same lady who was doing everything short of man handling auto drivers on the road was all smiles and in a “that’s my son” mood…
As for me, I had steered out of the soup. Not only had my statement made my mommy happy, it got her off my back for a while and I would learn later, that it had earned me my favorite dessert that evening…besides, I really thought those “mee maw” lights on the Commisioners Police Car were really cool(the REAL reason for my choice)!!!

Its been some time since I wrote a cheerful blog(there arent many things in my life at the moment that I can be cheerful about....)....
But Friday night is one night, the memory of which I shall cherish for as long as I live.
It so happens that I am a sports buff: an ardent admirer of ball sport of any kind(whatever the size or shape of the ball).... I have been criticised, yelled at, pleaded with and even cursed by my family members when I went on one of my "GOLF-TRIPS", where I would sit for hours together trying to figure out the nuances of the game.
But as we all know, watching a game LIVE in the stadium has its own charms. I for one would go any length to watch a game live(Any match that comes to the Chinaswamy stadium, Goldflake open at Chennai,local hockey matches...ANYTHING...)
So I was thrilled to bits when I heard that the world famous Harlem Globetrotters were going to play on Friday night at the Kanteerava stadium here. I had read a lot about them but had only seen them on TV(that too in documentaries on NatGeo and Discovery).
Sadly, I belong to a race which is on the brink of extinction. It was very hard for me to find someone who would like to invest in a pass. I must have asked 15 people who all had "better things to do"....Though I did eventually sucker someone into coming(on the basis that I bought her dinner), I was disheartened by the general awareness or rather, the UNawareness of this famous troupe.
By the time I reached the stadium(which by the way, was more than half empty), I had forgotten all that. The next 2 hours will probably play again and again in my mind like a broken video player for the rest of my life.
Those guys were AMAZING....though I have played a good amount of basketball in my life, I have never seen anyone physically touching the rim(leave alone doing a slam dunk)..... Let me just say that the shortest guy in that troupe was 6'2"(so you can all use your imaginations and guess how much slam dunking I saw for the rest of the show!!!).
The show included a game between the GTs and a New York based professional team. The result ofcourse didnt matter but the entertainment that was provided by those guys is unparalleled. The teams mascot,Globie (a character with his face as the globe)did a great dancing gig but the loudest cheer was reserved for Globie's elder brother `Big G', who had his own version of dance and tumble during the interval. And then there was basketball which was almost inconsequential!!! At the end of the show there was an autograph session. Its only when I got to the play area did I realise how MAMMOTH these guys are. One of them (Kevin) was 6'11".........Vertically challenged!!!!

All I'd like to say is, if ever you get an opportunity to see the globetrotters perform anywhere in the world...please...do take it....like I said earlier...its an INVESTMENT....:):):)