Shot in the dark

February 11, 2009

Well, a quick update – I am now a proud owner of a digicam (yes, yes, yes!!! Imagine it guys, I am doing it with clinched fists, so you would feel how excited I am. It is indeed the first camera of my own ‘ khoon paseeney ki kamaai’ and has cost me a fortune by my standards. Hello!! check, check. I repeat – by MY standards. Well, I am not going to tell you the exact model because Larry Page and Sergey Brin designed a website called Google which is shameless enough to expose the high standards I maintain.) I am more happy because I got a discount of Rs 500 from a camera shop in chikpet, near to Majestic theater (Walked almost 3 kms to reach a place similar to chandni chowk in Delhi, but somewhat bit more authentic in terms of quality. A place full of maddening crowd, serpentine streets, roadside shops and cluttered showrooms, that have stuffs ranging from dant manjan, old books, combs, ‘gayban’ sunglasses, pirated dvds, desi viagra, herbal oils to kanjeevaram silk, diamond jewelery, consumer electronics, idli-sambhar, panipuri, and any other ‘you name it, we have it’ stuff) Since then, I have been happily obliging the window panes, doors, chairs, bathroom, kitchen, fans and tube lights of my house. I paid a true tribute to these unsung heroes of my daily life and no human soul was allowed to intrude into their territory until first 50 shots.
So janta, feel blessed!! From now on, all you lesser mortals would have the privilege of witnessing the best photography that ever existed on this planet. Stay tuned.


Coming back to life..

December 8, 2008

This is perhaps my first post in a year. Well, I wasn’t hibernating nor was I “introspecting”. For all those who know me well, it shouldn’t be a surprise. Yes, I am indeed one of those souls who take pride in laid-back attitude of theirs. “Aalasya” is one of my strongest traits and the only word in English language that might come close to describing this great quality of mine is – Laziness. I would try to post on a regular basis, but no resolutions – I am averse to them 😉

It is Sunday afternoon and my head sways on a Pearl Jam’s track – “I’ am still alive”. As the ruthless strumming on the electric guitar reaches its crescendo, giving hallucinations to a true hard rock fan, the Bangalore electricity department abides by its promise of energy conservation and obliges us with yet another round of load shedding. Exasperated, I try to find solace in the FM radio of my mobile phone. (Yes, for all those who are wondering – All your conspiracies of battering my antique piece have paid off and I now own a phone that does have a FM radio as well as a colored screen 🙂 ) After remaining faithful for almost 6 years, my black & white Sony CMD J70 (Mind you, it was 100% pure Sony in those days, having a great philosophy of KISS – Keep It Simple Stupid! And without an iota of infiltration from Ericsson, it was indeed an impeccable beauty) couldn’t religiously follow the signals like the Hutch’s dog and I had to reluctantly move along with the same opinionated Nokia brigade who are fanatic about their mobile phones as if it helps them understand Einstein’s theory of relativity.

Left with no choice other than listening to FM radio, I feel a sinusoidal shift in the music genre. The identities started getting swapped from the loud Irish band to some desi, remix style, irritating crap. Confused with this chaos, I tune in to Vividh Bharati where “Aap ki farmaayish” is being played. The host is doing an outstanding job in reading out the names of people who have placed the request for a song. The list is endless – family members, relatives, friends, neighbors and the other blessed souls of entire mohalla. The eternal wait gets over and the song starts, but it is cut short by a family planning advertisement. All the curious listeners are being told about the advantages of vasectomy and many of us feel privileged to imbibe this free flowing gyan. Looks like our health minister, basking in the glory of his anti smoking tirade, is soon going to take stringent measures for population control as well. What’s coming up next, nobody is sure. Perhaps people might soon be paying fines or facing imprisonment for childbirth 🙂

FM or no FM, mobile phones could be some of the people’s biggest obsession. On a recent flight from Delhi to Bangalore (where I was labeled an outcaste by my neighbor on the onset itself, well proven by the disgusting look he gave me after staring at my mobile phone 😉 ), I came across the swanky phones that I hadn’t even seen in my dreams. Well, the guy had to carry this traveling hazard of sitting next to me where he was perhaps cursing JetLite officials for selling cheap tickets due to which an outcaste and poor guy like me was able to afford the air travel. During the landing, even the most gorgeous airhostess (Gosh!! Draped in six yards and an hourglass figure, she looked like Katrina Kaif) could not convince him to switch his phone off after the plane was still not ready to disembark. Just before getting up, I managed to sneak the text he was trying to send. It read – “Darling, I miss you”.

November Rain

December 15, 2007

If I were to select an Indian contingent for the Olympics, I would definitely pick up my newspaper guy for the javelin throw. Every morning, the newspaper travels like a bullet and bangs on my neighbor’s door without missing its target. Rolled up like a scud missile, it looks like an extremely potent weapon of mass destruction and if at all it happens to deviate from its intended trajectory to hit any unfortunate soul during its aerial journey of three floors, it could probably cause mayhem. But, the guy has a pinpoint accuracy and has always hit the bull’s eye. Looks like he has done an intense research on projectile motions and has beforehand calculated the effects of gravitational forces. Boy, that would have made Isaac Newton proud for sure. I even feel that he should be an integral part of our space research programs where he could impart his hands on knowledge to some of our scientists in understanding the nuances of successful satellite launches.

Fortunately, I live in ground floor and the missile doesn’t hit my door. Instead of a scud, I get an innocuous 20 page sheaf which gives me a dose of usual insipid stuff – The parliament walkouts, bomb blasts, quotas, infinite cricket debates and the two inevitable S – sex and sensex. And after almost 20 minutes of digesting this crap, it becomes a potential contender for my additional source of “income”. ( Yes, even though I spend 110 rupees a month on the bill, I still get a child like pleasure when it gets weighed at 5 rupees per kg 🙂 )

But, today was different. There was some news today that came as a surprise to me. BBMP had decided to spend 330 crores to fill potholes in Bangalore. Probably some BBMP official had witnessed my last night “stunt” on Honda Unicorn (which is indeed a monster to handle for a lightweight soul like me) when one of the potholes obliged me with its utmost hospitality. The tyres slipped, the monster fell towards my left and I headed towards my first holy dip in Bangalore. I have taken several dips in the Ganges at Haridwar, but the feeling of this dip in the muddy waters at Marathahalli was no less divine. I bet, you too would have enjoyed it for sure 😉

And then came the toughest part. My pair of jeans looked hopeless with all possible layers of “natural sediments”. Gosh, why there isn’t a concept of disposable clothes, I thought. And I soon remembered the surf excel ad- “Daag achchey hain”.
What crap! Ask those poor souls who do their laundry themselves 😦
Sheepishly, I consoled myself with a quote on positive attitude. When a flying bird shits into your eye, you don’t cry, rather you say – “Thanks God. At least cows don’t fly 😉 ”

Two months have passed since then and there isn’t November rain anymore. Seasons have changed and the potholes have been covered. But my ‘Lawman’ still lies in the bathroom and I am still contemplating on buying a washing machine.

Winds of Change

June 5, 2007

The other day, I had a tele conference with one of my manager in the US and though the call lasted for around 12 minutes, every minute seemed like an hour. I had a pretty tough time during the call and my ineptitude with the firang accent was shamefully exposed. I thought, probably watching Hollywood movies would’ve helped. (Though, I do see few movies at times, but, either they’re all Spiderman types where there isn’t much to understand and a bit of guesswork solves my purpose or they’re all Jurassic Park types, where dialogues hardly make any difference 😉 )

Yes, this wasn’t the only challenge in the new organization. Dress code – Business formals, Monday through Thursday. It was going to be one BIG change in my life. It meant that I’d have the same dumb look everyday and all my loose pair of jeans or rock band t-shirts will have to wait for their turn till Friday. It wasn’t much of a sacrifice, I thought. But, polishing my shoe on all weekdays was indeed a scary stuff 😦

I looked down at my shoe and tried to figure out the original color of the leather. The shoelace looked like an extremely dirty, worn out thread. Yeah, it looked so horrible that there wasn’t any trace of the original color. I could hardly recollect the last time I had polished my shoe. Was it months, or a year or ages? The work on the leather resembled some modern art, which could have surely given an inferiority complex to M F Hussain. (To me, any painting that looks irrelevant, spoilt, alien or anything that is beyond the understanding of a normal human is probably termed as modern art 🙂 ) The new off white dusty color indicated that I had only two options in hand. The first option – neither Cherry Blossom nor a brush would cost much, but it would take a Herculean effort to polish it up to give it some “respectable appearance”. And the second option? Yes, a more feasible one for a lazy and inveterate procrastinator like me was to put it into the closed confines of the BMC garbage, where it could rest in peace forever.

But, sentiments prevailed, emotions ran high, and I decided that my pair of leather does not deserve a BMC farewell yet, where it could easily become a potential victim of the omnipresent Bangalorean stray dog and would eventually have the same fate as my pairs of Bata floaters that were once torn to pieces by these merciless hounds. (Yes, they are the same set of creatures that instead of “guarding” my locality prefer to chase me every night, but are thankfully beaten by the pace of my 150cc bike and almost everyday, I salute Honda for giving me a new life 🙂 )

Notwithstanding my aversion for that pungent smell of nitrobenzene, (Yes, I could still recollect the composition of a shoe polish, even after those horrible scores in Chemistry and equally proud performances in labs, where we smelled almost everything, right from chloroform to rotten eggs 😉 ) I picked up the brush and after a gallant effort of almost an hour, transformed my pair of leather to a “divine state” where it would give me a pseudo look of a true professional.

Yes, I eventually realized that change is an inevitable part of everyone’s life and I was no exception.

Into the cradle…

October 11, 2006

Why did I write this?
Just for two simple reasons –
Firstly, I overheard that the word “elite” gets associated with you as soon as you start writing a blog. So, in order to scramble inside this cool category, I too decided to poke my nose, for I too wanted to flatter myself for being a part of this elite thing.
Secondly, and definitely the more profound reason – it is FREE (Yes, I am one of those typical Indians, who in spite of having sore throat and even with a bit of aversion for strawberry flavor, still stand in long queues outside Bangalore Central to collect cups of the same flavored ice creams, and that too more than once, for it was distributed FREE under some promotional offer. And lets not talk of the next day visit to the ENT specialist where they end up spending three hundred bucks for the medicines and consultation)

With a bit of enlightenment from some of the regulars, I was made aware of the fact that people use blogs to express their inner self. But still, why would I write one? For I was pretty sure that there are only handful of things I am good at, and writing crap is definitely one of them. Therefore, a bit reluctant initially though, I vetoed such thoughts with my sadistic senses, for blogging could become a perfect platform to torture my folks.

So here I am (Nah, not in style of Bryan Adams song), writing my first blog, and getting prepared to face those brickbats (only if someone reads it though). I’ll be at your dispense, so feel free to curse me anytime. I am neither a budding writer, who in spite of all his efforts, fails to find a publisher and gets lost in the obscurity. Nor am I an aspiring writer, still in reverie, trying to chase his tantalizing dreams, only to realize that they are ever elusive. I am just another so-called techie, or a cyber coolie to be precise (there isn’t a better term to define people like me) who gets paid for writing sheer crappy software stuff, most of which is either obsolete or notoriously buggy. But, at times, we are a revered lot and are euphemistically termed as “knowledge workers”. In retrospect though, it seems quite preposterous. Isn’t it?

However, even with such pseudo titles being bestowed on us, you’ll not find any techno stuff here. And except for the really humorous ones, no technical discussion or other software related gyan will rule the roost here. In other words – “Lets write what we enjoy.”