Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Hollywood and Beverly Hills

I was in Los Angeles as part of my short term onsite assignment and the wanderlust bug bit me hard. Weekdays were filled with dogged work at office and the lonely apartment gave me every excuse in the world to hit the road every weekend. I started making plans, religiously mapping the itinerary and booking the tickets. I bought the Los Angeles City pass during my visit to Universal studios, which gave pre-booked tickets for Hollywood Walk of fame tour, Madame Tussaudd's museum and the Beverly Hills tour. I had seen the Hollywood walk of fame and the foot and hand prints at the Chinese Grauman Theater on TV, yet seeing them on a narrated tour was an altogether different experience. So many superstar artists decorating the pathway of Hollywood Boulevard and not to mention the Cosplays on the sidewalk dressed as Batman, Captain Jack Sparrow, Michael Jackson, etc gives you a piece of their legend and their impact on the rest of the world. The tour guide told me that Hollywood became Hollyweird a long time ago and not many locals appreciate the new weird crowd of wannabe superstars in search of fame, particularly the cosplays who might be wannabe actors who are faced to wear costumes and pose for photographs for their living. Hollywood is also a land of broken dreams, not everyone made it to the top. The Chinese Grauman theatre, the El Kapitan, the Egyptian and the Kodak theatre - where the Oscars were given, are genuine historical monuments which needs to be visited. The Kodak theatre tour banned photography, which was very characteristic of its name. Duh :|. The Beverly Hills - meet the stars tour is a blatant invasion of privacy of the stars we admire and hope to catch a glimpse. Beverly hills is a posh neighbourhood on the hills with exotic houses, apartments and villas costing tens of millions and a ton of Paparazzis. I could still recollect the stream of paparazzis outside Tom Cruise's home, gawking and on the trigger for a snap if he and Kate ventured out. Another jaw dropping moment was when the tour bus took us to Rodeo Lane, the street where stars shop and dine. As expected everything was obscenely expensive to keep out commoners and yet fabulous to attract the rich and pretentious. The tour guide gave us tid bits about the places in Sunset Boulevard where Paris Hilton goes to party and the spot where Lindsay Lohan crashed her car and the slums of Beverly Hills where apartments cost 1-5 million as compared to 15 million and above on the hills.. uffff .. I just grasped every darn thing he said. All in all Hollywood is very well connected to the rest of the city via the LA Metro Underground Red line and the numerous Buses from North Hollywood. It was the perfect destination to drop by and get indulged.

Hollywood and Beverly Hills

Journey to Universal Studios

It happens to be the first place that I ventured out alone to fend of boredom in my apartment after landing in Los Angeles the day earlier. This place is very special as it broke my boundaries to explore Los Angeles using the Metro and pep up my morale to explore far and beyond in the United States of America. The Universal City Skywalk and the entrance to the theme park, will be etched in my memory for long, as it brought me to meet reality that I was in the entertainment capital of the world !

Link:

Journey to Universal Studios

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Meme - Wants to live

A lot has changed since I had last posted on this blog ; from travelling across the world, fostering new relationships, getting insights into how things work around me and adding a lot of arsenal to my knowledge and the fear of the unknown. But for some time, I became very curious of the need for thought to continue to exist and evolve into action. The best answer I could muster, is that it is the need of our conditioned brain to experience the vagaries of emotion, we are programmed to retain thought and produce them on the way. And not to forget the quanta of emotion each of them evokes, which I believe is responsible for changing the state of the mind. It was one such thought to record the places and people I had visited, which has finally found a way to become action. Experience what I saw and felt and get infected with a new meme along the way.

- Cheers,
Neo

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Exploring the lust to be nice

Empathy, compassion, kindness to the weak, these are strong emotions which come forth in each and every one of us. Though Darwinism says about survival of the fittest and the ruthless method of natural selection, the above emotions are very contradictory to the main motif - helping a kin would be beneficial as you are related and there is a chance of reciprocation, but helping an unknown vagabond or a crippled or a homeless person, who is not related as your kin ; to extend it much further, the person receiving help in some cases might not be our fellow countrymen this it is an act that might not be beneficial for the gene or the person. Applying natural selection, those people should survive on their own and if they can’t due to their deficient gene, they would perish as did millions of other mammals in the past, giving way for the much superior genes to reproduce and flourish. But that’s not how humans behave.

Theists would argue that it is religion that brings about empathy and preserves humanity. In a way, there are people who would help as their religion teaches them and walking away doing nothing amounts to sin, which they don’t wish to accumulate as it has a negative effect on their after-life or their karma in their cycle of rebirths. Thus they claim that religion has successfully altered natural selection, by its benevolent nature.

Evolutionists like Richard Dawkins have thrown up an explanation that empathy is due to the misfiring of the selfish gene. It works in the same way as lust: we have lust even though we use contraceptives and prevent further reproduction. To make it even clearer, the urge to reproduce and the trigger in our body i.e. lust does not stop, even when we are consciously making an effort to do the otherwise. In the same way, as we had evolved from apes which live in groups, where helping your kin and making partnerships is vital for gene survival.

Therefore, coming to the present age, where the hapless stranger on the street, in a metropolis need not be a blood related kin, the selfish gene, always on the lookout for its survival misfires and the urge kicks in go out and help them. In a way, it makes a mockery of our highly held morals.

Having laid down the facts known, is it religion and culture with its moral teachings or the misfiring of the selfish gene, has been a stellar force in making each and every one of us to be compassionate, helpful and nice to others ?

The answer as far as I could muster, comes from the holistic view of the society. My argument goes like there are social workers (mostly religious people) who do service to the society by being empathetic to the needy and poor, after they had endured suffering and say they are working towards eradicating the suffering, from others. It sounds much like the work of our immune system, which when hit with an infection after recovery, works to prevent another outbreak.

And man and definitely woman, being social animals imbibe beneficial traits from fellow beings and from their environment. Hence, there could be a misfiring in our selfish gene to help the needy, but the act of benevolence is very much fostered and rewarded by society, religion and culture, which could very make it a permanent behavioural trait in our genes. With time, it won’t be regarded as a misfire, but a behavioural trait evolved through religion and society.

My two cents ...

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Old hag and I

It was my birthday treat,
My friends promised to be on time.
I was racing for time and space in my bike,
Hoping to reach the theatre on time

The time was cut short by incessant rain,
With the narrow interval I got,
I raced in great strides and honks,
I was no doubt intimidating the normal folks along the way

When the red light caught upon me,
I was very irritated and cursed the people,
Who had constructed and maintained it in a rainy day.
It occured that every jackass was plotting against me.

With green came more vengeance,
To make up for lost time,
Tight turns and sharp cuts on the slippery road, I made
Just to get others out of my way.

Leaving the slow coaches behind,
I reached the theatre on time,
Approaching the entrance to the parking lot,
Wide open to get the racer in

In the final turn that I had to take,
I had to break sharp for an old hag,
With a plastic cover to shield her from the elements,
And worried eyes in her face trying to cover the parking lot

She saw me late and stood petrified seeing me dash,
With the cold water in the road,
Prick her shoeless feet, she gave way for the racer,
Out of fear, just like every other rider on the very road.

I had a fleeting sight of her as I shifted my gears,
With tattered clothes and nothing to let her set foot,
She stood in shock in the muddy puddle.
Her place in fear and servility as expected by society.

I made inside the parking lot,
My woodland shoes firmly on the bike,
Though shaken, I wriggled this incident off my mind,
For the theatre sizzled with gals from all over town !

The movie was great and so were my friends,
The day ended with laughs and fun ...
But the old hag came to haunt very soon,
For whom I should have stopped to let her have her way.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Vanishing faces

Running away I grew tired,
But refreshing faces made me forget,
The more I yearned, the faces kept fading away ...
I realised that I had been running all the while !

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Ma Crib

Ma studio apartment in LA ..

Click this thumbnail to check out my crib :)

Click to view all photos

Sunday, December 28, 2008

My Cheese :)




"Smile please", said the photographer. I put up a smile saying cheese till the photographer clicked his camera; the flash that followed blinded me for an instant. The next moment the entire lot burst into a frenzy and jubilation, some hugging each other howling with rants of joy. I heard some deliberately shouting, "F*** Sathyabama"(our university’s name), others threw their ceremonial caps up in the air, much to the delight of the audience numbering in thousands consisting of students waiting for their turn to have their graduation photo taken, and the plentiful parents and relatives who had flocked to savour this occasion. Standing at the last row, I had a panoramic view of the crowd; the tempo was upbeat as we were the first batch. Even the faculty and honourable dignitaries, who were sleeping during the pleonastic presidential address, had smiling faces. It made me feel that everybody was happy, for us.


Looking now at the graduation photo, I savoured my then fake smile. It was not the last one though :)

Sunday, June 15, 2008

The night I met her ...

It was 8:40 PM and in 5 minutes the last bus leaves. Yet, I was sitting in my cabin, surrounded by a maze of empty cabins, with some of them having glowing monitors, whose occupants never cared to switch it off, leave alone shutting down the CPU. The lights in my ODC were as bright as ever, the AC was spot on to the ambient temperature, all of these were designed to mask our senses from the outside elements and work with diligence on the assigned work. After hours of warming my seat with body heat, I had not moved the seemingly final inch towards completion of the Software Enhancement that was given to me, as you guessed, it takes more than seat warming capabilities and a lot of brain waves to finish the work in time. A momentary glance at the system clock perched on the bottom of the screen, made me aware of the space and time that engulfed me. I realized, that I had to give a clean build to the Software merge that I had performed some two days ago. My Project manager, had a ambitious plan of making me billable within 3 months, which is normal by industry standards, raising the bar every quarter, meaning it would be within 2 months, for the next quarter, going by the dollar decline, because every member who is billable in the project, the client shells out generous amounts for every hour we work … ( **** Americans. A tough task lay await for the greenhorns of the next quarter … ha ha ha … Screw them up … harder !!! ).

The enhancement and the merge were given to me in quick succession, so as to build my resume before the client interview. Ahhh, the client interview loomed large before my head, it was like an earworm, clearing it would mean, I would stay in this project, else, I would be shown the door to become part of the free pool, which was quite cool, but with many of my college mates becoming billable, I had to become billable to maintain my status in the gang. It was all smooth sailing, when I took on this challenge, but I was hit by a truck, on the final stage of this enhancement, which became the sole reason for my leaving late syndrome. My merge as well as the enhancement that I was given, slipped the SLA time-limit on Wednesday, and I am yet to finish it. *Now lets don’t dig into it, it’s a labyrinth, where effort and time go in waste without finding a solution*. It takes more than 6 hours for the compilation to complete and build images. I was advised by my mentors to do it when I leave, so that it would be completed when I come for work the next day. I was also advised to be unashamed of any scathing remarks about contributing to productivity, the module leader would be showering down upon me during the team-meeting. My fellow team-members take pride in their thick-skinned attitude of come-what-may-I-will-do-what-I-can-do (Gosh … it takes time to be confident to grasp it). Being, a fresher I am not prepared to face that, yet I was able put up a brave and resilient face towards them and the impending enhancement, actually with butterflies flying in my stomach.

By the way I leave very late these days ... much to the agony of my parents, who wait till I arrive to have our family dinner. (They are adamant, what shall I do -.- )

And my seemingly unproductive brain, sneezed for a second, giving way for sanity, that’s when I snapped from the melodrama of "Oh shit ... when will this be over". Literally, I ran to the lab and plugged out the console port of the switch that I was testing. I had to reboot the switch, coz I had corrupted its working directory with shit images from my failing enhancement adventures, for which the easiest way was, taking off the power cord and insert it back !!!. Our lab is like an Amazon forest with cables all over, some of them hanging from the ceiling, some 2 feet above the ground, placed with an evil intention that someone would drip and pull the cable (Which could be used as an excuse for the delay in delivery :D). Finding the right cable, can be treacherous. Many a times we would pull the wrong cable, causing someone's switch to crash. As I pulled the plug, the whole socket came out of the power cabinet with sparks. My palm sensed what it feels like to be hit by static electricity. (So close to become electrocuted … wow “)). But, thankfully I realized that there was no time to think and ponder over the near miss ( Kool !!!). The thought of being left behind, made me jump into panic mode, after inserting the power cord, I ran back to the ODC, quickly I gave the build "command" to our US server and "powered off" my monitor. (I joined the Green Peace movement, who take 200 bucks every month from my salary account.)

Wasting no time, I ran through the stairs of Tower 1 in the offshore development centre (the software geeks call it .. ODC as Odyssey). The three floors were conquered in no time. After flashing out my card, to mark the swipe out time in the electronic sensor, which as usual gave me the loyal beep acknowledgement. It meant that I had spent 14 hours of my Thursday in my office ( Never imagined this kinda sloggin even in my dreams during college days ). I ran past the security guards in the reception room and I noticed some people sitting in the couches reading magazines. The night shift BPO guys, I guessed, looked fresh from their afternoon sleep. Now into the open pathway, with others joining me in the run, I reached the bus depot in our campus. The electronic clock display, glared 8:44. And in a minute the buses leave.

I was visibly panting in breath, when I boarded the bus, with its occupants staring at me. Noticeably girls ... a mix of Madrasi and Naarth Indian, though it’s common for the latter to be cheerful and merrier even at this time. (I mean it ... older women leave by 6 and they are aptly called Six Sigma and pretty damsels those who leave by 9 are called Nagma :D )

As I sat in a seat, my deep breaths made 2 girls sitting before me turn back for a second. It caught my attention, giving me another chance to look back at them and then raise my brow showing  a "what are u lookin at ?" gesture.

As sharp as ever, the buses started, I bent my head towards the closed window. Feeling tired, I watched in amazement, the streams of traffic on the opposite side. Streams of cabs were ferrying people to BPO's, so that when America wakes up, our local Anand or Sujatha would be answering their calls in the name of Russel/Michelle. Hmmm...

Now these girls gave an excuse to forget the daunting work that lay before me...

My position gave me not a panoramic view of the 2 occupants before me, but just a sneak view of one of them. The head band and the stub in her nose dazzled in the dim lighting of the bus, and her giggling added glamour. The bus driver turned on the FM which was loud by industry standards.

The RJ in Radio Mirchi, was about to leave, saying her well rehearsed lines of Bye ... albeit sexily, giving an ummmaaaah (a kiss) to all the Mirchi fans. And yeah… we needed it after a day's hard work... !!!!!!!

And the girl in the front seat looked like the best lady to give one, I laughed within myself. The co-incidental laughter from the front row seemed to accept my proposition. Unfortunately, I was too tired to ponder upon the fantasy, the tiredness of a sedentary job can be very taxing :(.

Very soon, I faded into a nap, even in the midst of the loud radio. I had always possessed a 6th sense, when I near my alighting point, whatever deep slumber could I have been, I usually woke up from it, when the bus nears it. My 6th sense didn’t fail me this time, it could never, thanks to the worse-than-Bihar condition of the road near my house, fit for any world dirt race championship. The bus would shake its booty very violently, as if listening to it was like enjoying Pink's "I am coming up... Lets get this party started... !". No man could sleep whilst the bus traverses nervously through the deep potholes, which were damn many.

And as expected, I woke up as I neared my alighting point. I gathered my bag and lunch pack, and sheepishly started walking towards the door. The driver looking at me through the rear mirror sighed me to look back. I gave a ,"Now why is that ?" look and turned back yawning. To my surprise, I saw my pretty angel in the bus, very much tensed, biting her finger and looking at the window. From her appearance I could easily spot the glaring feature, she was not a localite. The headband and the high pony tail, with lots of curl throughout the locks and combed straight back. It matched perfectly with the jeans overcoat she was wearing over her pirate bay T-Shirt. Wow, that very much resembled like Katrina Kaif, but without the stilettos ;). The worried eyes and the sweat on her lacy forehead brought me back to my senses. I noticed that she chuckled, now why would she do that, I thought to myself. But it was too late, I had done a gaffe, with my mouth still wide open from the yawn, which did very proudly, thinking that I was the last person in the bus. I had to chuckle back, rather foolishly for my open-mouthed-wonder at her appearance. Luckily, there was no one from my ODC, to notice my embarrassing moment. God helps me sometimes, and I am thankful to HIM.

Though I was excited to see her again, I was struck by the rule that a male employee could not leave behind, her female counterpart in an empty cab. But this was the company bus, driven by a registered driver, and such rule do not apply here. Yet, not willing to lose this opportunity, I walked back, trying to steady myself, as the bus jerked under my feet. Seeing me come towards her, made her realize the precarious situation, and she looked at me earnestly. Grasping the situation, I asked her, "Where do you get down?” feeling 200% confident that she was lost in her way to her hostel/room.

"I get down in T.Nagar", she said hoping that I would give her a favorable response. But I had to deliver the bad news, "Miss... This is the bus to RK Mansion, and this is the last stop ...", the bus jerked again as usual, and I was off balance, my legs were very much numb, from the sleep. A quick grasp of a near-by seat saved me from yet another gaping embarrassment. She was in no mood to laugh again and rather instinctively put forward her hand towards my direction, with an intention of saving me. Her fingers caught just air, not me ... :( And again, like before, I steadied myself in this rocking bus. I told her, "Let’s ask the driver, if the bus would go to T.Nagar by chance ..."

She nodded and we walked in cliff-hanger style with our hand firmly grasping the rod, as we made our way through to the driver. The driver, still driving looking tired from his shift, turned towards us and said, "Intha amma inga thaan yeranguvangala ?" (“Will she get down here?”). I shouted back, lest my voice would not be heard in the midst of the engine and irritating Big FM noise,"Ivanga T.Nagar poganuma ..." (“She wants to get down at T.Nagar”). The driver was hoping against hope, that that he could get rid of her in this very last stop and return home. He shot back angirily, "RK mansion nu Board pottu erukku ... intha bus le poi yeralama ... Ivanga lam yennathe velai parkarangalo"( “The bus clearly mentions that it is intended for RK Manison … Still she has hoped into this bus … God knows, what kinda work these people are going to perform in the office “). The last sentence, was sharp, may be the frustrating and unproductive work that I do everyday, made me to relate to this dictum. I did not let him shower down anymore adages and advice, "Seri, ivanga theriyama yeritanga .. ippo yenna pannalam ... "(“Its okay … She has got into this bus unknowingly, what shall we do now ?”), I asked him, hoping that he could do a miracle in this late hour. "Anna ... T.Nagar", she chipped in. That was every bit, North-Indian, replacing "Bhaiyaa", with the only Tamil word she knew, "Anna". I realized that I have to be careful, lest I would be one of her many Annas, and I am so young ... :(

The bus came to a halt, near my usual stop. The driver turned off the engine and said, "Sir... ivangale auto pudichu poga sollunga ... Ippo nan bus-a travels office le uttutu sign podanum ... innum 30 nimushathule nan anga illaina, avanga Bus varalai nu phone mele phone pottu kupiduvanga ..." (“Sir … Ask her to go by auto from this place … I have to go to the travel’s office within 30 mins, lest, they would pester me with phone calls .. this being my last trip for this day …”). I explained to her, what the driver had suggested and to my surprise, she agreed to go by auto. That was revelation to me, I had finally seen a girl who was bold enough to go by auto all alone from a place she doesn't even know, at 10.00 in the night. "These girls are as bold as the heroines whom we import from the North", I thought so. The driver was visibly happy to get relieved of her without any resistance, had it been a Southerner, it would have been of very much trouble to him, to get rid off.

We got down and I asked her the details where she lived in T.Nagar. It happened so, that I happened to know the exact location as if I had google mapped it (It happens, don’t think everything is fiction -.- ). I asked her how she boarded the wrong bus. The transport people, who flock near the gate in our campus to send us off, had directed her to the wrong bus she claimed. I asked her immediately, "Are you a fresh recruit ... here for training?” She replied back with an affirmatory nod. "So how long you have been here?" my next immediate query. "Two days", she replied slowly the wrinkles started to shroud near her forehead. The bus routes change frequently, they were partially right as her other friend had got down correctly at Tiruvanmiyur, I thought she was very interested to travel with her friend that she did not ask properly. They trust the auto annas very much, I realised, and sheer grit attracted me. We waited for a few minutes, nearby the tea-shop whose occupants were busy dismantling the tables and chairs, a sign that they were closing up. And we were new specimens to them, watching us as they cleaned the shop with water that came to the street and formed a pool with thick patterns of sand floating that was visible in the orange glow of the street light. She was looking at the far end of the road for an auto, when seen, I thought she was rehearsing to say,"Anna ... T.Nagar" (Oh ... boy, she says it with theatrical expression). But it happened so that there were not many auto annas, or bus annas to come to her rescue.

The stare of the tea-shop inmates got my nerve, I turned towards her, with she bent upon looking for an auto. "Hey ... Hey ... You wont find any auto here ...", I was trying to find her name in the tag she was wearing, but the tag was not there on her neck, "What’s your name ?", I asked her bluntly. Seeing me serious, startled her, "My name is Nisha", she said. "Nisha ... It is not the right time of the hour to look for an auto, I would suggest that you would come to my house and I could ask my father or ... me myself could drop you at your place". The tone of my voice made her realise for the very first time, that all is not well in alien Chennai ( I had the tone to make it creepy for her … ;))

Looking at me straight into the eye, she thought for a second and said, "Ok". She took up her mobile phone and started dialing the *secret number* of her room-mate, to explain her position and the exact place she was stranded in Hindi, which is alien to me :-). Then we walked towards my home, my footsteps in sync with her, through the lighted streets. It was short walk of 3 - 4 minutes, enough time for us to know each other. She came from Meerut in UP, now staying with her friends in a hostel. And I had to introduce myself as a fella born and raised in Chennai. As I neared my house, I was thinking what shall I say to my parents, bringing a girl at this time of the hour.

Our house, on the outer is very much like any-other independent house, with two storeys and a balcony to gaze at the passers-by down below. The outer door on the fence was bolted open for me to sneak in without making any disturbance to the neighbours, it actually served its real purpose today. I welcomed her to my house by leading first, and walking past the car park area, with our Ikon back in its place. "Papa .. is home", I got to know. The entrance door to the house was wide open, and I could hear the dialogues from the mega serial that was screaming from the TV. My mother hearing commotion at the entrance got up from her place and stood at the door, watching us, as we closed the outer door and walked towards her.

She was candidly surprised, upon seeing an unknown girl, walking along with me. I smiled and said to her in one go, much like the bus driver of our company bus, "Ivanga peru Nisha ... Bus mari yaeri vanthutanga ... T.Nagar Bus nu.. yaen bus le yaeri vanthutanga ... Nambe car le avangale vitudalam nu kutikittu vanthaen "(” Her name is Nisha … She did not board the right company bus which got her stranded in our area ”) . Instinctively,my mother realised what happened and welcomed her, "Ulle vanga"(“ Please … Come inside ”), she said meaning every word of it. My dad who had been watching the soap opera with my mom rose up from his chair and walked towards us. Nisha said, "Good Evening Aunty... Uncle" and fell at her feet. It was shocking for us, but it is a distinct feature of most Northerners to fall at elder's feet when meeting for the first time. This gesture of Nisha impressed my parents and my mom got hold of her as she rose up. "God ... God .... Bless you", she said, "Come … take a seat", leading her towards the sofa. The mood was different after the "falling at the feet" gimmick, my sinister mind made me realise :-). And as they were moving towards the sofa, I had a quick word with my dad that we need to drop her off at T.Nagar. My dad said, "Its all right, get the car ... We shall drop her". So I slipped into the car park, to get the car into the street, whilst my mom was petting Nisha to eat some snacks before she left.

Quickly my dad dressed up and came to the living room in a jiffy and joined their company. In the meantime, my mom as with any other friend of mine, who came to our house flooded Nisha's plate with sweets and savouries. I could hear Nisha's voice, "Its enough Aunty... ". "Do you need water, Nisha?” my inquisitive mom asked her. The pampering went all along till I entered back to the household. Seeing me, Nisha realised, it was time to leave and rose up. "Call me once you reach your house ..?" my mom said. She replied, "Sure I would call you once I reach my hostel ... I would get the number from Ajay". My mom looked at me with the indication to do the needful.

And in a minute, I was in the driving seat, with Nisha and my father in the back row. The drive was very quiet; the exterior noise-free atmosphere was prevalent in the interior too. But however it was broken, on quite a few occasions, when my father asked her about her family and up-bringing in Meerut, while passing sensitive information relating to mine. "Ajay plays very good Cricket... He was in the college team", said my father proudly. "Is it so", asked Nisha looking at me through the rear view mirror. I gulped, swallowed, smiled and nodded, because certain things are left undisturbed. I was glad that she did not ask, "how many centuries" did I had hit ... For my parents, did not know that I was the perennial 16th man in the team, an "allakai", who skipped college classes for the sake of being in the team.

I was hoping that she would recognize the "superior" driving skills that I possessed, as I drove our Ikon with great finesse :-). Who knows she might have spotted it or she might have not.

And in 20 minutes, we reached the hostel, with Nisha giving me the directions for the very last turns. She called up her room-mate using the very same *secret-number* ... (Gosh I am getting very curious of that number) to inform her royal arrival in Hindi (Hello Miss ... Why not in Tamil/English, so that I could understand). She got out of the car and bent towards the window to say her, "Good-Bye ...”
"Ajay could you give your landline number… your mom asked me to ...","Oh sure ... It is **********", I gave the number without wasting a second. It is not many occasions that a girl asks your land-line number. Me and my dad waited till she disappeared into the corridor of her hostel, and I rode back with a sense of achievement, with "Manjal Veyil", song humming over my head, the song's actual passion, struck me.

And when we reached back to our home, my mom was waiting for us at the door. We were really hungry, and I had the usual guilt that it was because of me that my parents are starving. "Vitutingala ..." (“Did you leave her safely ?”), my mom asked us, as we entered the living room, the bright tube-lights seem to freshen us, it looked like I was more . "Ava phone pannale?" (“Dint she phone you ?”),I asked her back. "Ava phone pannitu thanks sonna ... nalla ponnu"(“Yeah, she called and said thanks .. Good girl, she is”), my mom replied. "Appo yathuku vittutingala nu ... yanga kitta confirmation vangara ?"(“Then why do you want the confirmation from us ?”), I shot back to my mom ... "Po ma ... poi sappadu podu ... pasikuthu !!!(‘Angrily’,” I am feeling very hungry … Get me some food !!!“), commanding my mom, who was glad to to carry it out my latest wish. I walked towards my room to change my clothes and refresh myself before dinner. The talk on the dinner table centered on Nisha and whether did I know her before. I answered nonchalantly, reading the morning newspaper, as I ate. I have the habit of reading newspapers, when I ate, the delicious food and the hot news mixed well for my mind and stomach. More than Nisha, it was food that was much dearer to me, and I was not very much interested in prolonging the conversation about Nisha.

It was not much before 11 PM, the time for me to sleep, to wake up the next day at 7 AM to catch my office bus. Finally, in the privacy of my bedroom, I closed my eyes and recollected the unexpected happening that took place. It was exciting no doubt, and Nisha was very much a girl, any boy would wish to be of any help to her. After some time, reality struck in, I realized (don’t I realize too often :( damn it :(( ) that it might be the last time, that I might see her. My bus doesn't take the T.Nagar route, and after training, she might be posted anywhere in India ( What a loss to chennai !!! … Worse than the IPL final round loss … )

A brief sojourn, and it was meant to be like that way, and that was the logical reasoning, I could churn out. I consoled myself that, "Manjal Veyil", song will work out some-other day when it has to ... I walked into the land of dreams, very quickly !

Saturday, January 12, 2008

Impact of new Airtel Ad

The new Airtel Ad is here, getting rave reviews, for its appeal. I dont know what is so original about it ... But who cares ;)


Guess what not only Airtel customers, to show their solidarity and support to Airtel's campaign department, a few furry friends enact it in their own way !

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Sunday, December 02, 2007

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Walk ... !

I was walking down the never ending Bannarghatta Road, fatigued to say the least, after walking for more than half an hour through the mazes of BTM Layout,on a fine evening. With no autorickshaw willing to take me to the place I was heading to, I got irritated at first, which later became a suffocating depression, which has haunted me, ever since I landed in Bangalore.


Loneliness ... waah ... I can give a better definition than Merriam Webster. The wonderful days, that I spent in Chennai, unknowing that I would suffer hardships in the near future in Hippy Bangalore.We take for granted, things that are at our disposal, without feeling grateful to anything, the list is enormous which includes parents,neighbourhood friends,our bike,now-a-days I miss even the casual smile, from acquaintences,which was so frequent back home. :-(


The walk made me really tired in spirit, hoping against hope that an empty auto (even a Merc :-) sent by God for me) would come by, as I travelled from one signal to another on the desolate walkway, the sky looking ever darker, warning of an impeding rain. "It is just one and a half kilometers more ...",said a passerby. I was fuming with anger, for making a bad decision to venture out that day.


Just a few paces behind me, I saw a bearded man with shamble clothing walking with the help of crutches. The rhythmic sound of the crutches, stood in contrast with my wayward tired steps. That fellow might be begging to survive each day in Bangalore, but he did not grumble for his erraneous creation.


"Accepting what we have", is a great virtue, I realised.


People may be tempted to give a lift to a beautiful lady(like Anila :-)) walking ... but do they care to give a lift to this vagrant ? The answer is a big no .


Disabled people like him must have learnt from experience, that world is not kind enough, that they have to work and strive hard even for their basic needs.Sometimes walking for kilometers in his crutches ... My situation is not as worst as his ... Many of us are not in his shoes (that we have, he lacks) to survive each and every day.

Why ?


"All that I have is sweat and blood to offer!",that long forgotten maxim struck me like a bolt from the blue.Come what may, its the tough that get going ! Rationally,I questioned my toughness ...


With a renewed vision, I saw him as a living example ... who fights to the last come what challenge may be ... Astonishingly all by himself,without depending upon others.


Inspired,I walked behind him till I reached my destination ...

Thursday, July 05, 2007

The Goan waves ;)

The waves came gushing,
Its roar fell loud and menacing,
But with no one beside me,
I looked at it with a smirk on my face ;

I stood away from it,
Teasing the attempts of the sea,
To wet my feet,
Its waves looked helpless.

But the sea was billowing,
I said to the sea:
"You over-estimate your strength"
As usual the waves did not listen.

The waves were let down each time,
By their own siblings(fellow waves),
The sibling which came to rise was absorbed,
By the one which retreated from the shore.

Seeing the chaotic attempt of the waves,
I felt confident in my stand,
The waves will never come near me,
The idiotic waves never learn the lesson,I thought.

The waves represented me,
My harrowed past and failed attempts,
I looked upon the sea - concerned,
I was fearing failure that was with the waves.

The more I looked,
The more I sorrowed for them,
Failure is everywhere, even with the waves,
No one can escape its grab.

With these thoughts on my mind,
I did not turn my attention to the trying waves,
Something was different,
That was for sure.

The siblings helped each other,
When they concentrated their efforts,
The waves came one behind the other in harmony,
Such was the timing,the waves aided their reach.

I was thrilled at the sight of it,
But the surge was limited;
I was hoping for the next one to wet my feet,
But I was once again let down,thanks to failure.

I decided to turn my back on these waves,
Saying "Good Bye!"
The waves said adieu, which I did not expect,
With one of them wetting my feet.

The chill of my wet feet,
Struck a chord with my mind,
The waves did not have just failure,
They had persistence and courage to win over it !

As a person who lacked both,I admired,
Then I realised,the waves have passed on those qualities,
Now its my turn to fight against failure,
The very reason that I was born for.

Wednesday, May 09, 2007