There is this old house I pass by every morning on the way to the main road. From amidst the trees that grow in the house a lilting warble of a bird can be heard sometimes. I have strained to see the bird but have never got a glimpse through the dense canopy. One day, I opened the gate and went into the house. I thought I would take the owners permission to look around. Suddenly from nowhere a Neapolitan Mastiff (NM) appeared and came lopping towards me. I was terrified. A voice from inside the house called out “Appu..NO!!!!”. The dog stopped in his tracks and looked extremely disappointed with a “what will I sprinkle on her-pepper powder or tomato sauce before gobbling her down” look.
A small and wizened lady came out of the house. She would easily fit under the dog. But the dog clearly knew who the boss was, because he slinked to her side and gazed at me with another “maybe I will eat her with mayonnaise but mayo is so fattening" look.
Old Lady: Don’t worry Appu won’t do anything, he is just a baby!
‘Baby’ was still drooling and looking at me with a “maybe a dash of Paprika will be good but not too much as she is rather skinny” look.
“Appu go and shake hands with her” ordered the diminutive 5 feet nothing Aunty. ‘Baby’ came rather reluctantly with a “oh so now I have to be friendly with my Lunch” kind of look. He refused to shake hands and we both faced off with each other..err it was more like me facing off with his knee caps. I was like a Lilliput in front of him. For the first time I felt sorry for the Lilliputians whom I had roundedly cursed for tying up Gulliver and making him a pin cushion, though why they wanted a pin cushion in those days beats me. But then I was 5 years old when I heard the story and didn’t know back then that people had not looked at the Spear and thought “why don’t we shrink it so that it may come of use when paper is invented?”
“Shake hands!!!!!’ said aunty sternly and ‘baby’ proffered a paw the sight of which would make an elephant take anti depressants. ‘Baby’s paws were HUGE!!!! I gingerly took one nail and we shook hands solemnly. Was it a glint I saw on baby’s face? Because… before I could say “ Howdy dude” he kept his entire paw in my hand with an evil look on his face. Now an NM is born with an evil look. If you see one with a not so evil look you know where he is been….yes, you are right…to a plastic surgeon! (yes sadly there are some plastic surgeons doing work on the sly for dogs who wanna look good. Look out for doggy hair when you go to a clinic next).
My hands sagged under the weight while ‘Baby’ had this look which said “I would be enjoying this if I could only gobble her after the introductions”.
Removing my hands with a baleful look in his direction I turned to speak to aunty. Aunty had just moved into our neighborhood and was pleased to make friends with me. After the usual pleasantries I left for work. As I walked away from the house, I could almost feel Appu’s gaze, burning into my back trying to Tandoorify me.
From then on Appu would wait patiently for me behind the fence and jump up with a resounding “WOOF!!!!” just when I passed by, scaring the daylights out of me. Then he would slink away with a satisfied look. He always managed to startle me due to the sheer volume of the ‘WOOF’. A sort of unspoken war was declared between us and for every ‘woof' I stuck my tongue out at him and called him “Appukuttan Ungle” (the Radio City guy). This seemed to enrage him and he would whine in sheer frustration because the fence prevented him from a quick mid-day snack.
One day as usual I was trying to tip toe past his house when a pack of stray dogs came snarling at me. There were four or five of them. People living in my area are familiar with these packs of hounds that snarl at unsuspecting passersby. Before I could bend down to pick up a stone, Appu appeared from nowhere and gave the dogs a piece of his mind. Oh the language, the profanities he used against the dogs!!!! Makes me blush.!!!
The dogs realized they had met their match in cuss words and took to their heels. Talk about a dog’s bark being worse than his bite!!
To cut this rather long story short, Appu and me have become friends. I made it a point to be civil to him and get to know him. Appu has realized that he can tolerate me and nowadays, whenever I have the chance I take him for a walk…err I mean he takes me for a walk. He zips around the block with me hanging onto the leash for dear life. If you see a Brown Neapolitan Mastiff zipping past at 450 mph with a girl flapping in the wind behind him, please don’t call out “Appukuttam Ungle”. It might just be the excuse he is looking to sample some road side fare.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Towards a better bottomline!
Hello everybody. Sorry for not posting for so long. I have been very busy since we received this mail from our HR last week. I think I will make it to the CEO desk, if I follow the effective time management and productivity enhancement measures that my company has arranged for us. Wish me best of luck. Any on you HR Types reading this may take note and learn. I have given the mail from our HR below.
Dear Employees,
1. Starting today all latecomers’ computers will be configured to starts on its own. It will then open embarrassment.com/xxx . Screen savers have been blocked and will not save your face. The said page will not close after 9:30 am. To reset, you will have to contact HR.
2. New screen savers have been designed and installed compulsorily. A message on the screen saver will flash ”THIS COMPUTER IS LYING UNUSED” accompanied by loud horns if the computer is not used for more than four seconds. To reset contact your manager. Ditto for lunch break, pee break etc.
3. Internet Browsers have been configured with inbuilt timers. Internet browsing is chargeable at Rs.1000 per hour which will be deducted from your salary. Ditto with Messengers.
4. In order to improve our quarterly results, we will charge Rs. 500/- for every salary appraisal.
5. Lunch will hence forth be served at your workstation. We have arranged for people to feed you while you are working to save time.
6. Married employees are strictly advised against having babies while in our employment. Those undergoing Sterilization procedures will be given additional incentives like an extra 5 minutes tea/coffee break. You can make up by staying an extra 5 minutes late.
7. On the other hand, employees who have babies may please enroll them at our crèche for team building and indoctrination exercises. On successful completion of the course they will be given a certificate which will give them an advantage while applying for employment with us in the future.
8. Those willing to get our logo tattooed on their forehead or any visible part on their body or their family, friends or neighbor's bodies will be given an increment of 1%. This is a drive to save on branding costs.
9. As part of our drive to help you multi task all employees will have to undergo training in typing with your feet. After successful completing of the course you will be given an additional computer and additional tasks.
10. We are working on a new technology that will shrink 24 hours into 8 hours. All employees will have to volunteer for testing this project.
11. Only Managers will be allowed to backstab. The rest of you will help reduce Managerial frustrations by turning your backs to your manager’s faults from time to time.
12. All employees will have to go through Telepathy and Levitation Courses to save on telephone and travel bills. Requests for Flying carpets denied.
13. To save on stationery costs, printers have been configured to print on any body part. The ink is washable. Shower charges extra.
14. Employees will contribute for Projects that go out of budget.
15. Sick employees will be provided a workstation at home complete with access card swiping facility.
16. We have decided to restructure our management team and get rid of the deadwood. Ramesh the office boy, Suresh the boot polisher and David the arse kisser are hence fired.
17. All employees will have to attend Time Management Seminars on Friday, Saturdays and Sundays.
18. Please carpool while using the lift.
19. Air conditioner temperature disagreements have finally been resolved. The A/C temperature has been set at a comfortable 80 degrees. A coin slot has been provided for employees who want further decrease/increase in temperatures. The accounts dept. will be selling 5 rupee coins for Rs. 8/- only.
20. Employees will be fired in their mother tongue to soften the blow. For language options please contact HR.
21. All games in your computers have been reconfigured. Since the computers belong to us, you will have to pay us for every game you lose against the computer. On the other hand winning employees will be charged @ Rs. 1000 perhour for using the computer during their working hours.
22. Employees will be taken FREE to the cinemas on National Holidays where you will be treated to a four hour presentation on Giant Screen on Effective Working Techniques. The snack shops in the theater accept Sodexho passes.
23. We predict a 1% increase in our next quarter results. Employees are therefore advised make reservations at your favorite restaurant which accepts your Sodexho passes early to avoid disappointment. You wouldn’t want to be sitting at home when everyone is celebrating would you?
24. And finally Investment advice to employees is herewith stopped as employees who availed the same made enough money to quit our company.
Yours truly,
HR
Dear Employees,
1. Starting today all latecomers’ computers will be configured to starts on its own. It will then open embarrassment.com/xxx . Screen savers have been blocked and will not save your face. The said page will not close after 9:30 am. To reset, you will have to contact HR.
2. New screen savers have been designed and installed compulsorily. A message on the screen saver will flash ”THIS COMPUTER IS LYING UNUSED” accompanied by loud horns if the computer is not used for more than four seconds. To reset contact your manager. Ditto for lunch break, pee break etc.
3. Internet Browsers have been configured with inbuilt timers. Internet browsing is chargeable at Rs.1000 per hour which will be deducted from your salary. Ditto with Messengers.
4. In order to improve our quarterly results, we will charge Rs. 500/- for every salary appraisal.
5. Lunch will hence forth be served at your workstation. We have arranged for people to feed you while you are working to save time.
6. Married employees are strictly advised against having babies while in our employment. Those undergoing Sterilization procedures will be given additional incentives like an extra 5 minutes tea/coffee break. You can make up by staying an extra 5 minutes late.
7. On the other hand, employees who have babies may please enroll them at our crèche for team building and indoctrination exercises. On successful completion of the course they will be given a certificate which will give them an advantage while applying for employment with us in the future.
8. Those willing to get our logo tattooed on their forehead or any visible part on their body or their family, friends or neighbor's bodies will be given an increment of 1%. This is a drive to save on branding costs.
9. As part of our drive to help you multi task all employees will have to undergo training in typing with your feet. After successful completing of the course you will be given an additional computer and additional tasks.
10. We are working on a new technology that will shrink 24 hours into 8 hours. All employees will have to volunteer for testing this project.
11. Only Managers will be allowed to backstab. The rest of you will help reduce Managerial frustrations by turning your backs to your manager’s faults from time to time.
12. All employees will have to go through Telepathy and Levitation Courses to save on telephone and travel bills. Requests for Flying carpets denied.
13. To save on stationery costs, printers have been configured to print on any body part. The ink is washable. Shower charges extra.
14. Employees will contribute for Projects that go out of budget.
15. Sick employees will be provided a workstation at home complete with access card swiping facility.
16. We have decided to restructure our management team and get rid of the deadwood. Ramesh the office boy, Suresh the boot polisher and David the arse kisser are hence fired.
17. All employees will have to attend Time Management Seminars on Friday, Saturdays and Sundays.
18. Please carpool while using the lift.
19. Air conditioner temperature disagreements have finally been resolved. The A/C temperature has been set at a comfortable 80 degrees. A coin slot has been provided for employees who want further decrease/increase in temperatures. The accounts dept. will be selling 5 rupee coins for Rs. 8/- only.
20. Employees will be fired in their mother tongue to soften the blow. For language options please contact HR.
21. All games in your computers have been reconfigured. Since the computers belong to us, you will have to pay us for every game you lose against the computer. On the other hand winning employees will be charged @ Rs. 1000 perhour for using the computer during their working hours.
22. Employees will be taken FREE to the cinemas on National Holidays where you will be treated to a four hour presentation on Giant Screen on Effective Working Techniques. The snack shops in the theater accept Sodexho passes.
23. We predict a 1% increase in our next quarter results. Employees are therefore advised make reservations at your favorite restaurant which accepts your Sodexho passes early to avoid disappointment. You wouldn’t want to be sitting at home when everyone is celebrating would you?
24. And finally Investment advice to employees is herewith stopped as employees who availed the same made enough money to quit our company.
Yours truly,
HR
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
A mentor, guide and a friend...
My Boss almost died today after getting a near fatal shock! He is alright now and declared out of danger. Thank God for the visiting Doctor who was in the building at the same time. It is funny how momentary and fleeting are the moments we call life. He is such a nice boss and a gentleman to boot. You are the best Mr. MK
Footnote: Mr. M. K wasn’t electrocuted or anything like that. Just that he saw a certain Silverine at her desk at the stroke of 9:30 am today.
( I am sorry boss. What to do, I got up early and so came to office on time. I didn’t mean any harm. Pliz don’t hate me :( )
:p
Footnote: Mr. M. K wasn’t electrocuted or anything like that. Just that he saw a certain Silverine at her desk at the stroke of 9:30 am today.
( I am sorry boss. What to do, I got up early and so came to office on time. I didn’t mean any harm. Pliz don’t hate me :( )
:p
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Coming out of the closet
The title will give you a clue to the content of this post. I thought for once I will do away with the usual titles and be straightforward. Many of you may snigger after you have read this through, while some of you may leave shell-shocked. Some of you may actually feel a dislike towards me. However after much thought and much procrastination I have decided that I will be honest and write about something that I wanted to reveal for some time now. It is the least I can do for my fellow bloggers who have taken the trouble to read my posts and leave comments.
There is no right way to come out, but I hope I can avoid some of the pain and drama of coming out to my family and friends.It doesn't matter if you live in a small town or a large metropolitan city, nothing can be more isolating than the first coming out. You can be surrounded by familiar people and still feel you are the only one that is "different"
Accepting your 'inclination' can bring about a number of fears. Will your family or friends stop loving you? Will you ever get married or have children? Will you be discriminated against or made fun of?
Disregarding all these fears and hoping for your compassion, me Silverine, hereby declare on this day i.e June 17th , 2006 that:
"I AM A HIMESH RESHAMIYYA FAN!"
It's true dear bloggers....from the time I heard “Aashique banaaya” Remix I was hooked. And then one remix led to another and I realized that I was different from the 'phlegminem' crowd. I realized that I was in the majority who were different, but were ashamed to admit it. I led a life of deception and laughed at all the jokes about his songs and their nasal tones, pretending to be normal. But I will not live this “lie” anymore.
Fellow bloggers, I am really sorry if this confession shocks you or makes you the target of ridicule for being associated with me. You can always say that you never knew about my inclination.
Dad you always taught me to tell the truth. ( I can almost hear you saying “Clauses!!! I should have clauses for every advice I give her!!! Grrrr”).
Mom… remember I am still your little girl. (I can almost hear you saying "ente karthave!!!!")
And my dear brothers, I know your friends will snigger behind you back, some in front even (back stabbers!!!), (I can almost hear both of you saying "OH MY GAWD, did you see that goal?!!!")
I am sure the good doctors and fellow bloggers Mind Curry and Sarah will vouch for me and reassure you that this is normal ( both of you had better or else I will hack your blogs and make it a Himesh Reshamiyya Fan Site!!! grr).
And all you fellow bloggers, I am sure many of you may be similarly inclined. I appeal to you to ‘come out’ like I did or keep those headphones on. *sniff*
There is no right way to come out, but I hope I can avoid some of the pain and drama of coming out to my family and friends.It doesn't matter if you live in a small town or a large metropolitan city, nothing can be more isolating than the first coming out. You can be surrounded by familiar people and still feel you are the only one that is "different"
Accepting your 'inclination' can bring about a number of fears. Will your family or friends stop loving you? Will you ever get married or have children? Will you be discriminated against or made fun of?
Disregarding all these fears and hoping for your compassion, me Silverine, hereby declare on this day i.e June 17th , 2006 that:
"I AM A HIMESH RESHAMIYYA FAN!"
It's true dear bloggers....from the time I heard “Aashique banaaya” Remix I was hooked. And then one remix led to another and I realized that I was different from the 'phlegminem' crowd. I realized that I was in the majority who were different, but were ashamed to admit it. I led a life of deception and laughed at all the jokes about his songs and their nasal tones, pretending to be normal. But I will not live this “lie” anymore.
Fellow bloggers, I am really sorry if this confession shocks you or makes you the target of ridicule for being associated with me. You can always say that you never knew about my inclination.
Dad you always taught me to tell the truth. ( I can almost hear you saying “Clauses!!! I should have clauses for every advice I give her!!! Grrrr”).
Mom… remember I am still your little girl. (I can almost hear you saying "ente karthave!!!!")
And my dear brothers, I know your friends will snigger behind you back, some in front even (back stabbers!!!), (I can almost hear both of you saying "OH MY GAWD, did you see that goal?!!!")
I am sure the good doctors and fellow bloggers Mind Curry and Sarah will vouch for me and reassure you that this is normal ( both of you had better or else I will hack your blogs and make it a Himesh Reshamiyya Fan Site!!! grr).
And all you fellow bloggers, I am sure many of you may be similarly inclined. I appeal to you to ‘come out’ like I did or keep those headphones on. *sniff*
Sunday, June 11, 2006
To some special men..
Happy Fathers Day to my Dad and all the Dads of the world!
Thanks for being my Dad. Guess you had no choice :p
You will always be the number one man in my life. Guess you have no choice here too :p
Thanks for being such a gentle man. I grew thinking that all men would be like you. I should thank my brothers too for being the reality checks..that not all men are gentlemen :p
Thanks Dad for all those times you let me pluck your moustache hairs. I used to be so fascinated by hair growing on someone’s face.
And thanks for letting me comb your bushy eyebrows and letting me walk around in your huge shoes.
Thanks for letting me sit in your lap while you drove. (And sorry that inspite of that I am such a bad driver)
Thank you for the Sunday picnics in Lalbaugh and the long walks with numerous stops while I painstakingly went through each flower and leaf.
Thanks for being the most patient man in the whole world.
Thank you for trying and succeeding in getting me out of my thumb sucking habit by spending hours in the kitchen making concoctions like bitter gourd juice to paint on my thumb.
Thanks for obsessing over my running nose and cleaning it a million times.
Thank you for being so biased in my favor.
Thanks for doing all my school projects prompting the teacher to announce “And as usual the best project award goes to Silverine’s Dad” :))
Thank you for showing childlike enthusiasm whenever I got a project because you so loved doing them.
And thanks for taking over my projects completely making them elaborate with the help of electricians and then coaching me to explain it to the teacher. I am still in the dark to the numerous award winning projects I did in school :p
Thanks for letting me watch the intricate electrical stuff you did with your mind boggling array of gadgets, tools, soldering irons and other stuff. ( I am sure Mom would like to thank you for repairing everything under the roof without blowing up the house).
Thanks for flooring my teachers with your ‘Yes Ma’m” and “Thank you Ma’am”. In an all girls school with an all ladies staff that was a huge bonus for me.
And thanks for making the teachers all a twitter whenever you came over. I was always the gallant gentleman’s daughter. (Hope my Mom doesn’t get to read this. And after I have penned this you and me are gonna have a talk…as to why you came so often to my school. I don’t remember getting into trouble so many times hmmmm :p)
Thank you for quietly eating all the stuff I made when I was learning to cook. I know my initial cooking experiments were horrible.
Thank you for being the first to make up after I went into my famous sulks because you refused to break your famous rules.
Thank you for not being over ambitious for me. That was a huge relief.
And thanks for the firm belief that “My daughter can do no wrong”. Made me toe the line so that I live upto that belief. (Nice tactic Achcha)
( Fathers Day is on Sunday 18th June ) :)
Thanks for being my Dad. Guess you had no choice :p
You will always be the number one man in my life. Guess you have no choice here too :p
Thanks for being such a gentle man. I grew thinking that all men would be like you. I should thank my brothers too for being the reality checks..that not all men are gentlemen :p
Thanks Dad for all those times you let me pluck your moustache hairs. I used to be so fascinated by hair growing on someone’s face.
And thanks for letting me comb your bushy eyebrows and letting me walk around in your huge shoes.
Thanks for letting me sit in your lap while you drove. (And sorry that inspite of that I am such a bad driver)
Thank you for the Sunday picnics in Lalbaugh and the long walks with numerous stops while I painstakingly went through each flower and leaf.
Thanks for being the most patient man in the whole world.
Thank you for trying and succeeding in getting me out of my thumb sucking habit by spending hours in the kitchen making concoctions like bitter gourd juice to paint on my thumb.
Thanks for obsessing over my running nose and cleaning it a million times.
Thank you for being so biased in my favor.
Thanks for doing all my school projects prompting the teacher to announce “And as usual the best project award goes to Silverine’s Dad” :))
Thank you for showing childlike enthusiasm whenever I got a project because you so loved doing them.
And thanks for taking over my projects completely making them elaborate with the help of electricians and then coaching me to explain it to the teacher. I am still in the dark to the numerous award winning projects I did in school :p
Thanks for letting me watch the intricate electrical stuff you did with your mind boggling array of gadgets, tools, soldering irons and other stuff. ( I am sure Mom would like to thank you for repairing everything under the roof without blowing up the house).
Thanks for flooring my teachers with your ‘Yes Ma’m” and “Thank you Ma’am”. In an all girls school with an all ladies staff that was a huge bonus for me.
And thanks for making the teachers all a twitter whenever you came over. I was always the gallant gentleman’s daughter. (Hope my Mom doesn’t get to read this. And after I have penned this you and me are gonna have a talk…as to why you came so often to my school. I don’t remember getting into trouble so many times hmmmm :p)
Thank you for quietly eating all the stuff I made when I was learning to cook. I know my initial cooking experiments were horrible.
Thank you for being the first to make up after I went into my famous sulks because you refused to break your famous rules.
Thank you for not being over ambitious for me. That was a huge relief.
And thanks for the firm belief that “My daughter can do no wrong”. Made me toe the line so that I live upto that belief. (Nice tactic Achcha)
( Fathers Day is on Sunday 18th June ) :)
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Mobile woes
My first phone was a Siemens handset that an Ungle from the Gelf had bought for me. Sturdy, reliable and built like an Ox, it was the kind of phone that would come very handy if someone snatched your hand bag. You could use it to club the robber black and blue and it would still be intact! And if the robber takes to his heels with your bag, then you could throw it at his receding skull and be sure of some spell binding acoustics effects when it connected with the cranium.
You could then nonchalantly pick it up, blow the dust away (like James Bond blowing the smoke from the muzzle of his gun after he had shot a target that was moving at the speed of 475358 kms a second) and walk away from the scene with your hand bag amidst applause. Of course nothing of that sort happened but that was because no self respecting robber would grab my handbag unless he was desperate for loose change.
A week after I was given the phone, a new model was released and suddenly I was trying to pass off my ‘outdated’ mobile as a rectangular block of grey plastic that I was carrying around to defend myself. No one bought the story though. My Dad refused to buy me the new model and suggested gently that I wait another week and my friend’s new mobile would be outdated and I wouldn’t feel so ashamed of my block of plastic. I refused to talk to my Dad for a couple of days after that. This was good because four new versions of the same phone were released during those couple of days and suddenly all of us had outdated phones. The new models releasing in the market was a great leveler as none of us could afford it and hence we were content with our prehistoric gadgets. ( In ‘phone age’ a month equals a decade and anything more than that is classified as pre historic).
When I started summer internships, I gave up my mobile because I had a Big Boss who would call me at all odd hours and a Mom who would call me at all even hours of the day. (Between the two of them they succeeded in reducing the sparrow population in Bangalore to catastrophic levels).
Big Boss was easy to evade.
Big Boss: Helloooooo
Me: Helloooooo
Big Boss: Damn!! This phone echoes! *slam*
But my Amma was a smart cookie.
Mom: Hello?
Me: Hi, this is me. Sorry I am unable to take your call right now but leave a message and your number and …
Mom (interrupting): I know you can hear me. You didn’t eat breakfast today blah blah I took so much trouble blah blah blah got up at 6 am blah blah I am never going to make breakfast again. *SLAM*
After scintillating conversations like these I decided that I would preserve what little of my brain cells that were not fried, poached and flambéed by the microwaves and threw away the phone into the deep recesses of my cupboard. My cupboard burned down shortly after that.
Mental note * Shut down the mobile before stowing it away in flammable places like wooden cupboards*
Mental note number 2 *And don’t leave lighted candles in the cupboard*.
Recently I agreed to be the guinea pig for a highly secretive International experiment. I agreed to borrow a mobile phone from my friend for a short period of time at the insistence of friends. Since it was a trial period I decided to borrow my ex colleague’s CDMA mobile that is serviced by a company whose credo is ‘Love your brother as thyself’. My friend’s circle heaved a sigh of relief. Friday jam sessions would be so easy to plan.
Step one: Call Silverine
Step two: Make her buy the booze.
Step three: Enjoy maadi.
Step four: Let her clean up as it is her house.
And now they would also be able to call me up at 2 am and ask intelligent and thought provoking questions like:
“Do you think Red is my color?”
“Do you think I should allow Gaurav to kiss me?”
“Guess what I was dreaming? I will give you a clue: I am in a bikini, on a beach and this handsome hunk……” *giggle*
( *sniff* such good friends I have and it is only 2 am).
My patience was wearing thin and scalp thinner. I decided to leave a recorded message so that I could avoid trivial calls and more brain death.
“Hi this is me. I am very busy right now; leave a message ONLY if it is a matter of life and death”
I got several important messages that were a matter of life and death and grave importance.
Mom: Where did you keep the chilli powder?
Telecaller: Hello! I am Smitha calling from ABC Bank. Congratulations you have just been suckered. To know more call me at 12345678. Hurry!
Unidentified caller from STD booth: *heavy breathing*
Friend: I have put on two kilos over the weekend *bawl*
Brother: Did you brush the dog with my hair brush?!?!?!?!
The last straw was an incident that happened last week.
Mom: What is the difference between a snowman and a snow woman?
Me: I don’t know. What is the answer?
Mom: I don’t know, it doesn’t say here.
Me: Holy crap!!! You have been reading my SMS’s?
I quickly checked the said SMS and gasped at the answer, and silently thanked all the angels and saints that my mom didn't know how to scroll down.
The answer was "Snowballs".
( I have since given up my mobile phone)
You could then nonchalantly pick it up, blow the dust away (like James Bond blowing the smoke from the muzzle of his gun after he had shot a target that was moving at the speed of 475358 kms a second) and walk away from the scene with your hand bag amidst applause. Of course nothing of that sort happened but that was because no self respecting robber would grab my handbag unless he was desperate for loose change.
A week after I was given the phone, a new model was released and suddenly I was trying to pass off my ‘outdated’ mobile as a rectangular block of grey plastic that I was carrying around to defend myself. No one bought the story though. My Dad refused to buy me the new model and suggested gently that I wait another week and my friend’s new mobile would be outdated and I wouldn’t feel so ashamed of my block of plastic. I refused to talk to my Dad for a couple of days after that. This was good because four new versions of the same phone were released during those couple of days and suddenly all of us had outdated phones. The new models releasing in the market was a great leveler as none of us could afford it and hence we were content with our prehistoric gadgets. ( In ‘phone age’ a month equals a decade and anything more than that is classified as pre historic).
When I started summer internships, I gave up my mobile because I had a Big Boss who would call me at all odd hours and a Mom who would call me at all even hours of the day. (Between the two of them they succeeded in reducing the sparrow population in Bangalore to catastrophic levels).
Big Boss was easy to evade.
Big Boss: Helloooooo
Me: Helloooooo
Big Boss: Damn!! This phone echoes! *slam*
But my Amma was a smart cookie.
Mom: Hello?
Me: Hi, this is me. Sorry I am unable to take your call right now but leave a message and your number and …
Mom (interrupting): I know you can hear me. You didn’t eat breakfast today blah blah I took so much trouble blah blah blah got up at 6 am blah blah I am never going to make breakfast again. *SLAM*
After scintillating conversations like these I decided that I would preserve what little of my brain cells that were not fried, poached and flambéed by the microwaves and threw away the phone into the deep recesses of my cupboard. My cupboard burned down shortly after that.
Mental note * Shut down the mobile before stowing it away in flammable places like wooden cupboards*
Mental note number 2 *And don’t leave lighted candles in the cupboard*.
Recently I agreed to be the guinea pig for a highly secretive International experiment. I agreed to borrow a mobile phone from my friend for a short period of time at the insistence of friends. Since it was a trial period I decided to borrow my ex colleague’s CDMA mobile that is serviced by a company whose credo is ‘Love your brother as thyself’. My friend’s circle heaved a sigh of relief. Friday jam sessions would be so easy to plan.
Step one: Call Silverine
Step two: Make her buy the booze.
Step three: Enjoy maadi.
Step four: Let her clean up as it is her house.
And now they would also be able to call me up at 2 am and ask intelligent and thought provoking questions like:
“Do you think Red is my color?”
“Do you think I should allow Gaurav to kiss me?”
“Guess what I was dreaming? I will give you a clue: I am in a bikini, on a beach and this handsome hunk……” *giggle*
( *sniff* such good friends I have and it is only 2 am).
My patience was wearing thin and scalp thinner. I decided to leave a recorded message so that I could avoid trivial calls and more brain death.
“Hi this is me. I am very busy right now; leave a message ONLY if it is a matter of life and death”
I got several important messages that were a matter of life and death and grave importance.
Mom: Where did you keep the chilli powder?
Telecaller: Hello! I am Smitha calling from ABC Bank. Congratulations you have just been suckered. To know more call me at 12345678. Hurry!
Unidentified caller from STD booth: *heavy breathing*
Friend: I have put on two kilos over the weekend *bawl*
Brother: Did you brush the dog with my hair brush?!?!?!?!
The last straw was an incident that happened last week.
Mom: What is the difference between a snowman and a snow woman?
Me: I don’t know. What is the answer?
Mom: I don’t know, it doesn’t say here.
Me: Holy crap!!! You have been reading my SMS’s?
I quickly checked the said SMS and gasped at the answer, and silently thanked all the angels and saints that my mom didn't know how to scroll down.
The answer was "Snowballs".
( I have since given up my mobile phone)
Saturday, June 03, 2006
The Time of India
Latesht news: It has been positively established that no cocaine was found in a prominent late politicians Son's blood samples.Vikram Singh the family’s loyal driver and servant for the past 15 years, donated the blood for the blood test. He will be nominated for Veertha Puruskar by the Party a spokesman said.
Vikram Singh who lives in Pali Hill,expressed shock at the allegations that the Son had snorted drugs. "The allegations are a lie! It was actually the absolute lack of drugs that made the Son so critical!!!" he exclaimed tearfully.
The Son’s family is so happy at the turn of events. His uncle Maru Anna said “We just can’t believe that our Son was not under intoxication. This is a miracle!!!" The family then went to the Temple/Gurudwara/Church/Mosque/Synagogue and offered pooja in thanksgiving in front of the TV crew.
A hospital spokesperson said, “The blood sample given to us does not contain cocaine or any other drug. But the donor has AIDs and STD and will live for another three months only.” The driver reportedly swooned when he heard the news.
The driver's CT scan report is also normal and hence the Son has been put off ventilator support. Apparently he was hyperventilating.
The Minister’s secretary Viv Mota, who was also brought to the hospital along with the Son and driver, had allegedly imbibed the Son’s share of the drug. He was declared dead on arrival. “Serves him right” said a family member of the Son.
Doctors at MAIMS have conducted an autopsy on Mota's body. An FIR has been lodged against him and his body was questioned for over four hours. The body was released to the mortuary when the interrogation unit broke for lunch. The temperature in the mortuary has been turned up so that the interrogation unit can resume interrogation immediately after lunch. Preliminary investigations are on against the body. So far they have found only a mole on the right butt.
Meanwhile, police are interrogating the three people whom the cops have managed to 'convince' that they were present at the Minister’s residence on Thursday night.
"We are trying to get the big picture here," said, the Big Cop. “ We have specially ordered a wide screen TV for this purpose." The cops were closeted in the TV room for hours. Addressing the Press Conference after that the Big Cop said “Kyon Ki Saas bhi Bahu thi is crap!!” According to neighbours, who spoke to this reporter, the Big Cop slept on the couch that night.
The Big Cop, however, remained tight-lipped about the suspect drug angle to the episode, saying the white powder found at the scene was being examined by forensic experts. "The CFSL report is being prepared by us er...I mean by the doctors and is awaited," he remarked. When asked persistently whether the powder was cocaine he said . “All I can say right now is that it smells awfully like Sandal Wood”. The police have made no arrests so far.
###
Vikram Singh who lives in Pali Hill,expressed shock at the allegations that the Son had snorted drugs. "The allegations are a lie! It was actually the absolute lack of drugs that made the Son so critical!!!" he exclaimed tearfully.
The Son’s family is so happy at the turn of events. His uncle Maru Anna said “We just can’t believe that our Son was not under intoxication. This is a miracle!!!" The family then went to the Temple/Gurudwara/Church/Mosque/Synagogue and offered pooja in thanksgiving in front of the TV crew.
A hospital spokesperson said, “The blood sample given to us does not contain cocaine or any other drug. But the donor has AIDs and STD and will live for another three months only.” The driver reportedly swooned when he heard the news.
The driver's CT scan report is also normal and hence the Son has been put off ventilator support. Apparently he was hyperventilating.
The Minister’s secretary Viv Mota, who was also brought to the hospital along with the Son and driver, had allegedly imbibed the Son’s share of the drug. He was declared dead on arrival. “Serves him right” said a family member of the Son.
Doctors at MAIMS have conducted an autopsy on Mota's body. An FIR has been lodged against him and his body was questioned for over four hours. The body was released to the mortuary when the interrogation unit broke for lunch. The temperature in the mortuary has been turned up so that the interrogation unit can resume interrogation immediately after lunch. Preliminary investigations are on against the body. So far they have found only a mole on the right butt.
Meanwhile, police are interrogating the three people whom the cops have managed to 'convince' that they were present at the Minister’s residence on Thursday night.
"We are trying to get the big picture here," said, the Big Cop. “ We have specially ordered a wide screen TV for this purpose." The cops were closeted in the TV room for hours. Addressing the Press Conference after that the Big Cop said “Kyon Ki Saas bhi Bahu thi is crap!!” According to neighbours, who spoke to this reporter, the Big Cop slept on the couch that night.
The Big Cop, however, remained tight-lipped about the suspect drug angle to the episode, saying the white powder found at the scene was being examined by forensic experts. "The CFSL report is being prepared by us er...I mean by the doctors and is awaited," he remarked. When asked persistently whether the powder was cocaine he said . “All I can say right now is that it smells awfully like Sandal Wood”. The police have made no arrests so far.
###
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Office Atmosphere
Monday morning I walked into office for my summer internship and walked right out, gasping for breath. A powerful stench physically shoved me back as I entered the office. Gasping, wheezing and choking I asked "What’s that stench? Did any one die in here?"
My Admin and Facility Manager who was standing nearby gasped, went pale and shakily seated himself on the stairs. Fearing the worst I called for his assistant who said “m am on nofee blake” and hung up. Faced with a potential life and death situation moiself asked him gently if I could help in anyway. He said amidst gasps: "That f****ing room freshener cost 1500 bucks a piece and you say it smells like a decomposing dead body? Aarrgh!!"
Moiself was very hurt :( But since my colleague was in severe pain, I informed him soothingly that what I meant was that the place smelt like a deadbody that had been sprayed with perfume to keep out the bad smell out. This time poor Admin went blue in the face. I decided to retreat from the scene before he bust his gut or decided to bust mine. (The rest of the morning poor moiself sat in the cafeteria and worked from my lappie. Thank god for wireless networking!).
However the trigger happy housekeeping staff had joyfully sprayed all the buildings with the perfumed sewage gas...I mean air freshener. The toilets smelt of Alpine pine mountains that was strewn with decomposing bodies of swiss cattle. The stairwells smelt of Rose fields that used dead rats as manure and the Reception area smelt of a butchery that had ordered large bouquets of Rajnigandha flowers to mourn the carnage.
Working with my colleagues dupatta tied around my face was not helping as the managers were finding it difficult to distinguish a Silverine from a Manimekhalai from a Simran Kaur. I was asked to debug a code while Manimekhalai from Q&A was asked to create a print advertisement while Simran was asked to design a UI. (poor girl is our accountant).
The guys had no option but to cover their noses with Imperial Hotel tissue paper and Leela Palace cloth napkins (ever seen a guy carrying handkerchiefs?). Some desperados were seen covering their noses with salt and pepper shakers from Taj Residency (because ceramic flower vases from Windsor Manor are not very ideal for covering noses you see) Covering your nose and mouth and talking is rather inconvenient as some people found out.
P to V: Usn arn djfktin i mmfoor
V: What?
P: (removing the kerchief for a split second) I said you are standing on my foot !!
Complaints started pouring in from all quarters.
A: My cubicle smells like a horse is decomposing in here!
Housekeeping (wrinkling his nose): That will be Lily of the Valley perfumed air freshener saar!
B: Did someone pee in my cubicle?
Housekeeping: That is Mist Orange Spray saar.
C: There is a dead rat in my Cabin.
Housekeeping (covering his nose): That is Summer Flower Bouquet air freshener saar.
D: I smell a stink from the PM’s cabin. I think he is dead.
Housekeeping: That room was not sprayed because Mr. PM said he didn’t want to be disturbed.
D: Ah! That explains the smell.
By afternoon calm returned, the floors smelt clean with just a wee bit of lingering smell of death and decomposition.
Next day in an obscure corner of the newspaper a small news item reported that a certain air freshener supplier was assaulted and left in the Indiranagar drain by an unidentified Administration Manager of an IT company.
My Admin and Facility Manager who was standing nearby gasped, went pale and shakily seated himself on the stairs. Fearing the worst I called for his assistant who said “m am on nofee blake” and hung up. Faced with a potential life and death situation moiself asked him gently if I could help in anyway. He said amidst gasps: "That f****ing room freshener cost 1500 bucks a piece and you say it smells like a decomposing dead body? Aarrgh!!"
Moiself was very hurt :( But since my colleague was in severe pain, I informed him soothingly that what I meant was that the place smelt like a deadbody that had been sprayed with perfume to keep out the bad smell out. This time poor Admin went blue in the face. I decided to retreat from the scene before he bust his gut or decided to bust mine. (The rest of the morning poor moiself sat in the cafeteria and worked from my lappie. Thank god for wireless networking!).
However the trigger happy housekeeping staff had joyfully sprayed all the buildings with the perfumed sewage gas...I mean air freshener. The toilets smelt of Alpine pine mountains that was strewn with decomposing bodies of swiss cattle. The stairwells smelt of Rose fields that used dead rats as manure and the Reception area smelt of a butchery that had ordered large bouquets of Rajnigandha flowers to mourn the carnage.
Working with my colleagues dupatta tied around my face was not helping as the managers were finding it difficult to distinguish a Silverine from a Manimekhalai from a Simran Kaur. I was asked to debug a code while Manimekhalai from Q&A was asked to create a print advertisement while Simran was asked to design a UI. (poor girl is our accountant).
The guys had no option but to cover their noses with Imperial Hotel tissue paper and Leela Palace cloth napkins (ever seen a guy carrying handkerchiefs?). Some desperados were seen covering their noses with salt and pepper shakers from Taj Residency (because ceramic flower vases from Windsor Manor are not very ideal for covering noses you see) Covering your nose and mouth and talking is rather inconvenient as some people found out.
P to V: Usn arn djfktin i mmfoor
V: What?
P: (removing the kerchief for a split second) I said you are standing on my foot !!
Complaints started pouring in from all quarters.
A: My cubicle smells like a horse is decomposing in here!
Housekeeping (wrinkling his nose): That will be Lily of the Valley perfumed air freshener saar!
B: Did someone pee in my cubicle?
Housekeeping: That is Mist Orange Spray saar.
C: There is a dead rat in my Cabin.
Housekeeping (covering his nose): That is Summer Flower Bouquet air freshener saar.
D: I smell a stink from the PM’s cabin. I think he is dead.
Housekeeping: That room was not sprayed because Mr. PM said he didn’t want to be disturbed.
D: Ah! That explains the smell.
By afternoon calm returned, the floors smelt clean with just a wee bit of lingering smell of death and decomposition.
Next day in an obscure corner of the newspaper a small news item reported that a certain air freshener supplier was assaulted and left in the Indiranagar drain by an unidentified Administration Manager of an IT company.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Oru Ancient Veera Gaatha
Long time ago in the early 1900’s a nubile young mallu lady was walking on the bund that separated the paddy fields owned by her family with that of another family. She was very pretty and very sexy* (loosely translated from the mallu word *wottahotbabe).
A virile young mallu turk was working in the other field and as fate would have it, their paths crossed. And since the virile young mallu turk was straight (as the whole Gay thing had not happened back then) an appreciative whistle escaped his lips. The young lass blushed when she heard the whistle and glanced shyly at the whistler. He was good-looking with a thin pencil moustache and stylish Weaver Bird Nest hairstyle. ( This particular hairstyle made men look at least three feet taller and hence was a rage in those days)
The sunlight glistened off his coconut-oiled hair. His well-muscled hands and legs were caked with mud from working in the fields. The nubile young mallu lady, like all nubile young ladies of her time fluttered her eyelashes and bit her lip in embarrassment and walked back home giggling. The virile young mallu turk watched her receding back appreciatively disregarding the fast drying mud on his hands and legs.
An innocent incident you must think. But this is mallu land. A verdant land of mountains that were actually mole hills. No mallu worth his salt will leave a mole hill unheightened. Unknown to the young couple curious eyes had observed the incident and the news was quickly disseminated via the various village media channels to all and sundry and their neighbors. (Media planning is an ancient mallu art.) All hell broke lose when the news was received in homes, kallu shaaps (toddy shops) and chaaya kadaas (tea shops) and the Parish Priest’s office ( the Priests attendant, known as the ‘Kapiiyaru’ has a wider reach than Doordarshan).
People discussed the incident at length and those of you who have read Mallu Whispers can guess the final Edited version of the news that was passed on word of mouth. According to the final version of the news, our virile young mallu turk had grabbed the fair and delicate wrist of the nubile young mallu lady, causing her to shriek and run home as fast as her mundu allowed. (which is a little faster than a tortoise but not as fast as a KSRTC bus)
That evening, blood curdling howls were heard in the valley. People attributed it to the evil spirits, but the howl was actually the painful moans of the virile young mallu turk scrubbing the mud off his body with coconut fibre at the creek. (He swore never to use coconut fibre again)
The next day at the young lass’s house a battle cry was sounded at 8 am. ( because the rooster failed to crow at the appointed hour of 6 am. The useless rooster in the chicken coup was in the habit of catching 40 winks in the morning. Many a war expedition in ancient Kerala was delayed due to lazy roosters. It was an alarming trend).
It was a Sunday and hence the expedition to the lad’s house was further delayed as Velliyammachi had made Appam and Stew. No one dared ignore her Appam and Stew even if the Appam tasted like rancid rubber sheet and the meat in the stew was tougher than MRF tyres. The chicken stew was always made from the meat of the last rooster who refused to crow. (Velliyammachi was a prolific rooster shopper. She bought one every week)
It was many generations later that someone discovered the reason for the toughness of meat in Velliyammachi’s stew. By then it was too late. 1456476 roosters had died in her quest for the perfect Chicken Stew.
Groaning under the heavy breakfast and indigestion the men in the family set off for the virile young mallu turk’s house. The bewildered family of the virile young mallu turk was taken aback to see a group of irate achayans come marching up the driveway (we had driveways back then for kaala vandi’s i.e. bullock carts). The achayans were fuming due to the over spiced stew and grimacing due to the indigestible Appams. It made a terrifying sight. (It was decided enroute that next time they will feed the enemy Velliyammachi’s Appam and Stew as a defensive war maneuver.)
The incensed men of the nubile young mallu lady’s family berated the virile young mallu turks family for raising a rapacious son. The family of the young lad stoutly defended his innocence and called the young lass a charlatan. This enraged the young lass’s family and a war of words ensued. The indigestion didn’t help matters and to cut the narrative short both families decided to cut off ties and vowed never to have anything to do with each other again. (The brave young mallu turk watched the proceeding with great interest from the safety of the cowshed).
After the dust had settled and the cackling of the chickens had died down, the virile young mallu turk was hauled from the cowshed and made to confess his sins at the church. The young lad like a good Christian recounted his escapades er…sins with great sincerity. The Confession went on for over two hours they say. Soon after the confession the priest died of a massive heart attack. (According to local legend his last words were “aarrrgh why did I have to join the priesthood?”)
The young lass were hurriedly married off before every eligible boy’s parents got to know of her er….encounter. (There were different classes of encounters in Kerala those days. This was Class I which was very negligible followed by Class II, Class III etc. I guess you get the idea by now).
The enmity between these two families is over six generations old now.
But the ghost or genes of the two young lovers have come to haunt the hormones of the new generation again. A boy from the young mallu turk’s family ( i.e. my family) is in love with a lass from the nubile young mallu lady’s family. The families are aghast, scandalized and incensed ( not particularly in that order). Elders from both sides refused to give permission for the union.
The two young rebels finally eloped and got married between a rape and a murder. (What I am trying to say is that they got married in court. The registration took place between a murder case and a rape case.)
And thus ended the enmity that was six generations old. Amen.
A virile young mallu turk was working in the other field and as fate would have it, their paths crossed. And since the virile young mallu turk was straight (as the whole Gay thing had not happened back then) an appreciative whistle escaped his lips. The young lass blushed when she heard the whistle and glanced shyly at the whistler. He was good-looking with a thin pencil moustache and stylish Weaver Bird Nest hairstyle. ( This particular hairstyle made men look at least three feet taller and hence was a rage in those days)
The sunlight glistened off his coconut-oiled hair. His well-muscled hands and legs were caked with mud from working in the fields. The nubile young mallu lady, like all nubile young ladies of her time fluttered her eyelashes and bit her lip in embarrassment and walked back home giggling. The virile young mallu turk watched her receding back appreciatively disregarding the fast drying mud on his hands and legs.
An innocent incident you must think. But this is mallu land. A verdant land of mountains that were actually mole hills. No mallu worth his salt will leave a mole hill unheightened. Unknown to the young couple curious eyes had observed the incident and the news was quickly disseminated via the various village media channels to all and sundry and their neighbors. (Media planning is an ancient mallu art.) All hell broke lose when the news was received in homes, kallu shaaps (toddy shops) and chaaya kadaas (tea shops) and the Parish Priest’s office ( the Priests attendant, known as the ‘Kapiiyaru’ has a wider reach than Doordarshan).
People discussed the incident at length and those of you who have read Mallu Whispers can guess the final Edited version of the news that was passed on word of mouth. According to the final version of the news, our virile young mallu turk had grabbed the fair and delicate wrist of the nubile young mallu lady, causing her to shriek and run home as fast as her mundu allowed. (which is a little faster than a tortoise but not as fast as a KSRTC bus)
That evening, blood curdling howls were heard in the valley. People attributed it to the evil spirits, but the howl was actually the painful moans of the virile young mallu turk scrubbing the mud off his body with coconut fibre at the creek. (He swore never to use coconut fibre again)
The next day at the young lass’s house a battle cry was sounded at 8 am. ( because the rooster failed to crow at the appointed hour of 6 am. The useless rooster in the chicken coup was in the habit of catching 40 winks in the morning. Many a war expedition in ancient Kerala was delayed due to lazy roosters. It was an alarming trend).
It was a Sunday and hence the expedition to the lad’s house was further delayed as Velliyammachi had made Appam and Stew. No one dared ignore her Appam and Stew even if the Appam tasted like rancid rubber sheet and the meat in the stew was tougher than MRF tyres. The chicken stew was always made from the meat of the last rooster who refused to crow. (Velliyammachi was a prolific rooster shopper. She bought one every week)
It was many generations later that someone discovered the reason for the toughness of meat in Velliyammachi’s stew. By then it was too late. 1456476 roosters had died in her quest for the perfect Chicken Stew.
Groaning under the heavy breakfast and indigestion the men in the family set off for the virile young mallu turk’s house. The bewildered family of the virile young mallu turk was taken aback to see a group of irate achayans come marching up the driveway (we had driveways back then for kaala vandi’s i.e. bullock carts). The achayans were fuming due to the over spiced stew and grimacing due to the indigestible Appams. It made a terrifying sight. (It was decided enroute that next time they will feed the enemy Velliyammachi’s Appam and Stew as a defensive war maneuver.)
The incensed men of the nubile young mallu lady’s family berated the virile young mallu turks family for raising a rapacious son. The family of the young lad stoutly defended his innocence and called the young lass a charlatan. This enraged the young lass’s family and a war of words ensued. The indigestion didn’t help matters and to cut the narrative short both families decided to cut off ties and vowed never to have anything to do with each other again. (The brave young mallu turk watched the proceeding with great interest from the safety of the cowshed).
After the dust had settled and the cackling of the chickens had died down, the virile young mallu turk was hauled from the cowshed and made to confess his sins at the church. The young lad like a good Christian recounted his escapades er…sins with great sincerity. The Confession went on for over two hours they say. Soon after the confession the priest died of a massive heart attack. (According to local legend his last words were “aarrrgh why did I have to join the priesthood?”)
The young lass were hurriedly married off before every eligible boy’s parents got to know of her er….encounter. (There were different classes of encounters in Kerala those days. This was Class I which was very negligible followed by Class II, Class III etc. I guess you get the idea by now).
The enmity between these two families is over six generations old now.
But the ghost or genes of the two young lovers have come to haunt the hormones of the new generation again. A boy from the young mallu turk’s family ( i.e. my family) is in love with a lass from the nubile young mallu lady’s family. The families are aghast, scandalized and incensed ( not particularly in that order). Elders from both sides refused to give permission for the union.
The two young rebels finally eloped and got married between a rape and a murder. (What I am trying to say is that they got married in court. The registration took place between a murder case and a rape case.)
And thus ended the enmity that was six generations old. Amen.
Monday, May 22, 2006
Communications Failure
How do you explain your profession to a generation that does not know much about Information Technology or IT marketing? I so envy you techies and Marketing/Finance/Facilities people who can explain their profession to this generation with relative ease. I went batty trying to explain the term “Communications” to 70 something Ammachi’s and Peramma’s and various Appans I met at church recently.
Unabashedly curious oldie to me: What are you working as?
Me: I am a Communications Professional.
Oldie: Adhu endhuva? (What’s that?)
Me (after some furious thinking): Well...I help sell the products my company makes.
Oldie: Oh! You are a salesgirl.
Me: No!!!! I strategize and oversee the making of communication material, participate in Trade Shows and …..
Oldie (interrupting): Trade Show?
Me: It’s like an exhibition.
Oldie: So you work in the stalls in exhibitions?
Me: Sort of
Oldie: So you are a Sales girl!
Me: No!!!! I do have to be at the stall, but it is to explain the product to visitors.
Oldie looks at me eyebrows arched and I realize that I had just described the job of a salesgirl.
Me (clenching my teeth): It is difficult to explain Ammachi.
Oldie: Likely story! My grandson is a Kompooter injineer (computer engineer). He repairs computers. (grandson is a software engineer with Infosys)
Me: Is that what he told you?
Oldie (sneering): Yes and he did not have any problems explaining his job like you did.
Me (using grandson’s simplification technique): Ok Ammachi, I am a writer
Oldie: Writer? How do you survive on the salary of a writer?
Me (smiling tightly): I manage Ammachi.
Oldie: You should have studied kompooter injineering like my grandson. But I guess it’s too late for you now.
Me: err...I have got to go. I think Amma is calling me.
Oldie (to another oldie): Poor girl. Hope she gets a boy with a decent job. This is what happens to girls who are no good in studies.
*sigh*
Unabashedly curious oldie to me: What are you working as?
Me: I am a Communications Professional.
Oldie: Adhu endhuva? (What’s that?)
Me (after some furious thinking): Well...I help sell the products my company makes.
Oldie: Oh! You are a salesgirl.
Me: No!!!! I strategize and oversee the making of communication material, participate in Trade Shows and …..
Oldie (interrupting): Trade Show?
Me: It’s like an exhibition.
Oldie: So you work in the stalls in exhibitions?
Me: Sort of
Oldie: So you are a Sales girl!
Me: No!!!! I do have to be at the stall, but it is to explain the product to visitors.
Oldie looks at me eyebrows arched and I realize that I had just described the job of a salesgirl.
Me (clenching my teeth): It is difficult to explain Ammachi.
Oldie: Likely story! My grandson is a Kompooter injineer (computer engineer). He repairs computers. (grandson is a software engineer with Infosys)
Me: Is that what he told you?
Oldie (sneering): Yes and he did not have any problems explaining his job like you did.
Me (using grandson’s simplification technique): Ok Ammachi, I am a writer
Oldie: Writer? How do you survive on the salary of a writer?
Me (smiling tightly): I manage Ammachi.
Oldie: You should have studied kompooter injineering like my grandson. But I guess it’s too late for you now.
Me: err...I have got to go. I think Amma is calling me.
Oldie (to another oldie): Poor girl. Hope she gets a boy with a decent job. This is what happens to girls who are no good in studies.
*sigh*
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Kalyana Ramans and Ramanis
Yesterday was Wedding Number One in our itinerary, after Engagement Number One in Ernakulam. We reached Muvatupuzha around mid morning after the hero of my last post, my Uncle had said a tearful goodbye to us. He had just got the bill for the PC you see.
In a gesture of rare honor that bought a tear to my eye, Jojo sent me the first ever invitation to Yahoo Chat from his new PC which I accepted from my Laptop. Such a good boy.
There was a crisis brewing in the wedding house. The groom-to-be (GTB to keep it short) declared that he would not get married until his Godmother, i.e. my Mom arrived.( His godma was minutes away enroute to his house and the wedding a good 24 hours away. Melodrama is part of the mallu wedding). The declaration worried his parents very much. His Dad was heart broken. He had 100 cases of liquor collected for the wedding you see. ( 50 cases for the pre bachelor party, bachelor party, organizing committee meetings and the wedding and 50 cases incase there was an Income tax raid during the wedding.)
His Mom was heart broken too. This was the single most important day in her last child’s life. From the time he took his first baby steps, she had a dream. She dreamt of her son growing up fast into a sturdy young man, so that she took hitch him around some gals neck and fly off to London, Paris and Rhode Island, where her daughters and a son resided. But the ingrate was not showing any signs of leaving the nest. She was sure she would be stuck in Muvattupuzha for the rest of her life.
Fortunately for them, we reached their house five minutes after GTB had made that awful declaration. The scene of Godmother and Godchild meeting were straight out of Hindi movies.
GTB: Maaa!!
Mom: Betaaa!!!
Me: Barf
Anyways soon after arrival we were immediately closeted for the “organizing committee meeting”. The wedding was high profile and a lot of volunteers were needed. But then my family is not exactly short of hands when there is booze involved. Soon we had a good crowd of volunteers and their classmates too...(in case the cops tried anything funny.)
Now don’t judge us too harshly. Meetings are thirsty affairs, especially since Kerala is quite hot at this time of the year. And mallu heat is not the sissy kinda heat you get in Chennai.( I am not talking about the Mallu Heat you get on CD’s and thatched Talkies.)
Now, my mom is no Don Vito Corleone, but a regular Godmother. I mean, prior to the baptism (naming ceremony) of the child, a male and female relation is appointed as Godfather and Godmother. Godparents are informally responsible for ensuring that the child's religious education is carried out, and for caring for the child should he/she be orphaned (logically this means that the godparents should be young and able bodied). But in Kerala, hierarchy is followed strictly and the oldest and most wizened, closest-to-the-grave-relative is given the honor. (Never mind the explanation I have given in the previous bracket, we mallus are non-conformists) And the appointment of the Godmother/Godfather causes a lot of heartburn for the parents (and hence the declining birthrate of Kerala).
The naming of the baby is also very complex (and by now very famous). The first name is often left to the parent’s choice but the middle name has to include the Christian name of an elder. Almost all the old people and their parents want their name included in the baby’s name. And no matter how many people you accommodate there will always be ill will. So the GTB’s parent took the short cut and included every aged relatives name they could muster. Legend has it that by the time they finished the naming ceremony the Priest fell down exhausted and no priest thereafter was willing to preside over any ceremony involving GTB.
The GTB was named Nitin ( first name) Joseph, Alexander, Philip, Isaac, Francis, Maradona (Dad is a huge fan and insisted), Ajith Wadekar ( mom is a great fan) Kurian, Geevarghese Thomas. J for short. (The priest presiding over his wedding was specially bought in from another district.)
Everything went fine till the Priest started the Nuptial ceremony (the actual wedding ritual).
Priest: Do you Nithin Joseph, Alexander, Philip, Isaac, Francis, Maradona, Ajith Wadekar, Kurian, Geevarghese Thomas take Shiny Marie, Sarah, Elizabeth Mary to be your lawfully wedded wife?
BTB: I do.
Priest: Do you Shiny Marie, Sarah, Elizabeth Mary take Nithin Joseph, Alexander, Philip, Isaac, Francis, Maradona, Ajith Wadekar, Kurian, Geevarghese Thomas to be your lawfully wedded husband.
Bride: Who?????? Er... I mean “I do”.
Priest ( panting): May I have some water please ?
The sermon given by the priest afterwards was rousing and he spoke at length about naming children. (He was also overheard instructing his assistant to make a thorough check on bride and bridegroom's full names before he accepted any further Wedding Mass requests.)
Yours truly was in-charge of decorating the Church and the Reception area with a bunch of volunteers below the drinking age. The famous mallu heat was countered by this ‘committee’ with Naranga Vellam (Lemon Juice) and Ice Cream.
The reception at the grooms home was a grand success. ( basically it means that there were no males left who was sober).
p.s Just read somewhere that since Malayalam has a very komblex phonetic system that makes it difficult for outsiders to understand, it was used for wireless communications in the Indo-Pakistan border. ( Never mind if Subedar Jarnail Singh, Lance Naik Kelkar, Havildaar Pranab Mukherjee and Sepoy Naik, were at the receiving end. The enemy couldn’t decipher it… and that is what matters.)
In a gesture of rare honor that bought a tear to my eye, Jojo sent me the first ever invitation to Yahoo Chat from his new PC which I accepted from my Laptop. Such a good boy.
There was a crisis brewing in the wedding house. The groom-to-be (GTB to keep it short) declared that he would not get married until his Godmother, i.e. my Mom arrived.( His godma was minutes away enroute to his house and the wedding a good 24 hours away. Melodrama is part of the mallu wedding). The declaration worried his parents very much. His Dad was heart broken. He had 100 cases of liquor collected for the wedding you see. ( 50 cases for the pre bachelor party, bachelor party, organizing committee meetings and the wedding and 50 cases incase there was an Income tax raid during the wedding.)
His Mom was heart broken too. This was the single most important day in her last child’s life. From the time he took his first baby steps, she had a dream. She dreamt of her son growing up fast into a sturdy young man, so that she took hitch him around some gals neck and fly off to London, Paris and Rhode Island, where her daughters and a son resided. But the ingrate was not showing any signs of leaving the nest. She was sure she would be stuck in Muvattupuzha for the rest of her life.
Fortunately for them, we reached their house five minutes after GTB had made that awful declaration. The scene of Godmother and Godchild meeting were straight out of Hindi movies.
GTB: Maaa!!
Mom: Betaaa!!!
Me: Barf
Anyways soon after arrival we were immediately closeted for the “organizing committee meeting”. The wedding was high profile and a lot of volunteers were needed. But then my family is not exactly short of hands when there is booze involved. Soon we had a good crowd of volunteers and their classmates too...(in case the cops tried anything funny.)
Now don’t judge us too harshly. Meetings are thirsty affairs, especially since Kerala is quite hot at this time of the year. And mallu heat is not the sissy kinda heat you get in Chennai.( I am not talking about the Mallu Heat you get on CD’s and thatched Talkies.)
Now, my mom is no Don Vito Corleone, but a regular Godmother. I mean, prior to the baptism (naming ceremony) of the child, a male and female relation is appointed as Godfather and Godmother. Godparents are informally responsible for ensuring that the child's religious education is carried out, and for caring for the child should he/she be orphaned (logically this means that the godparents should be young and able bodied). But in Kerala, hierarchy is followed strictly and the oldest and most wizened, closest-to-the-grave-relative is given the honor. (Never mind the explanation I have given in the previous bracket, we mallus are non-conformists) And the appointment of the Godmother/Godfather causes a lot of heartburn for the parents (and hence the declining birthrate of Kerala).
The naming of the baby is also very complex (and by now very famous). The first name is often left to the parent’s choice but the middle name has to include the Christian name of an elder. Almost all the old people and their parents want their name included in the baby’s name. And no matter how many people you accommodate there will always be ill will. So the GTB’s parent took the short cut and included every aged relatives name they could muster. Legend has it that by the time they finished the naming ceremony the Priest fell down exhausted and no priest thereafter was willing to preside over any ceremony involving GTB.
The GTB was named Nitin ( first name) Joseph, Alexander, Philip, Isaac, Francis, Maradona (Dad is a huge fan and insisted), Ajith Wadekar ( mom is a great fan) Kurian, Geevarghese Thomas. J for short. (The priest presiding over his wedding was specially bought in from another district.)
Everything went fine till the Priest started the Nuptial ceremony (the actual wedding ritual).
Priest: Do you Nithin Joseph, Alexander, Philip, Isaac, Francis, Maradona, Ajith Wadekar, Kurian, Geevarghese Thomas take Shiny Marie, Sarah, Elizabeth Mary to be your lawfully wedded wife?
BTB: I do.
Priest: Do you Shiny Marie, Sarah, Elizabeth Mary take Nithin Joseph, Alexander, Philip, Isaac, Francis, Maradona, Ajith Wadekar, Kurian, Geevarghese Thomas to be your lawfully wedded husband.
Bride: Who?????? Er... I mean “I do”.
Priest ( panting): May I have some water please ?
The sermon given by the priest afterwards was rousing and he spoke at length about naming children. (He was also overheard instructing his assistant to make a thorough check on bride and bridegroom's full names before he accepted any further Wedding Mass requests.)
Yours truly was in-charge of decorating the Church and the Reception area with a bunch of volunteers below the drinking age. The famous mallu heat was countered by this ‘committee’ with Naranga Vellam (Lemon Juice) and Ice Cream.
The reception at the grooms home was a grand success. ( basically it means that there were no males left who was sober).
p.s Just read somewhere that since Malayalam has a very komblex phonetic system that makes it difficult for outsiders to understand, it was used for wireless communications in the Indo-Pakistan border. ( Never mind if Subedar Jarnail Singh, Lance Naik Kelkar, Havildaar Pranab Mukherjee and Sepoy Naik, were at the receiving end. The enemy couldn’t decipher it… and that is what matters.)
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
P C Hunt
Today I went on a wild goose chase to buy a PC for my 16-year-old cousin brother Jojo. The hunt began at Ernakulam and ended, panting and gasping for breath somehwere near Kottayam. My Uncle, Jojo’s Dad thought that this would be a good opportunity to learn something about computers, besides like vegetables he was convinced that he would get a better bargain at the next shop. Sometimes the next shop was the adjacent shop while most of the time the next shop was in the next town. The result was some delicious cuisines sampled at various hotels throughout the route but no PC.
Jojo is the youngest of seven children, his eldest sibling is married with kids. The generation gap between father and son was as wide as an Apple II and a MacBook Pro. (that’s many a generations even I know) And that’s why he cleverly managed to rope me in with some novel excuses like “Achchan is a fossil” and “Only you can talk some sense into Achchan’s brainless skull”. He loves his Dad so much you see. And the feeling is mutual.
First stop XYZ Electronics
Uncle to Salesman: We want to buy a computer.
Salesman: Would you like to go in for a Laptop or Desktop?
Uncle: Duh?...ahem you talk to my niece while I hmm...look around and don’t listen to anything my dimwit son says ok?!
Jojo: Dad!!!!!!
Uncle: Keep quite.
Salesman(smirking): Sure.
I watched as my Uncle, his mundu folded up neatly, hands crossed behind him sauntered around. He reached a display of PCs. The salesman behind the counter wearing a mundu and a red Pottu must have looked quite reassuring to my Uncle.
Uncle: What is the difference between this kompooter and that?
Salesman: Intel and AMD Processors Saar.
Uncle( not understanding a word): Oh I see! And what’s the difference between what you just told me?
Salesman : Cost and speed is different saar. Besides a few other differences.
Uncle (persisting): Like what?
Salesman ( as though waiting for the cue ): Well...Intel recently switched over their motherboards from the RDR memory to the DDR memory, which AMD was utilizing. There are three reasons for the swtich blah blah blah blah. Anyone who knows computers will tell you: heat is your enemy. Heat kills processors, plain and simple. The Pentium IV processor has major heat dissipation problems blah blah blah. AMD runs cooler because it's FSB has always been a constant 266MHz, and does not cause problems with DDR memory. The AMD Athlon blah blah blah besides it is priced lower.
Uncle: I see.
He turned smartly before the Salesman could say “Cheque or Cash?” and walked into the Laptop section and peered at the display, soda glasses straddling his nose. He went around one a couple of time like I have seen him do with the cattle he intended to purchase. A smartly dressed salesman appeared next to him.
Salesman: Anything in particular you are looking for?
Uncle (Pointing to a Laptop): what is this thing?
Salesman: It is a Laptop Computer.
Uncle: What is the difference between this and that…‘kompooter’?
Salesman (showing off): Laptop and desktop computers are very similar. They have the same basic hardware, software and operating systems. The primary difference is how their components fit together. Its screen is an integrated part of the unit, as is its keyboard blah blah blah.Unlike Desktop it is much smaller and blah blah blah and it is portable.
Uncle: “Portable??????” What’s that?
Salesman: It can be carried around.
Uncle: Interesting!
Salesman: (scenting a sale): Your son can easily move his Laptop from class to library to the caféteria. It also has DVD player so your son can watch movies too.
Uncle(incensed): Oh ho!!! No son of mine is watching movies in college when he should be studying!!
Salesman ( triumphant smile drying up fast): But... !!!
Jojo(in despair): Dad!!!!
Uncle: Keep quiet! ( turning to me )Let’s go to another shop and see if we can get something that will not corrupt this brainless fellow.
By evening, after going in and out of umpteen shops, my Uncle was elated with the knowledge he had gathered. Jojo and me were very tired and did not want to see a PC or Laptop for the rest of our lives. We also knew all there was to know about Monitors, Processors, Storage Devices, Sound, Graphics and Imaging and the number of Chai Kadaas on the highway and the differences in their tea/coffee brewing styles. And we were yet to buy a PC.
Me: Uncle, you better decide soon or we will have to take a room here. It is getting late.
Uncle: What a good idea!!! Tomorrow we can drive to Trivandrum I have heard you get better computer shops there!
Me: *groan*
Jojo: Zzzzzzzzz
We did finally pick up the PC from that first shop. My by-now-very-knowledgeable Uncle insisted on an AMD processor because...the salesman was so nice and had called him “saar”.
Jojo is the youngest of seven children, his eldest sibling is married with kids. The generation gap between father and son was as wide as an Apple II and a MacBook Pro. (that’s many a generations even I know) And that’s why he cleverly managed to rope me in with some novel excuses like “Achchan is a fossil” and “Only you can talk some sense into Achchan’s brainless skull”. He loves his Dad so much you see. And the feeling is mutual.
First stop XYZ Electronics
Uncle to Salesman: We want to buy a computer.
Salesman: Would you like to go in for a Laptop or Desktop?
Uncle: Duh?...ahem you talk to my niece while I hmm...look around and don’t listen to anything my dimwit son says ok?!
Jojo: Dad!!!!!!
Uncle: Keep quite.
Salesman(smirking): Sure.
I watched as my Uncle, his mundu folded up neatly, hands crossed behind him sauntered around. He reached a display of PCs. The salesman behind the counter wearing a mundu and a red Pottu must have looked quite reassuring to my Uncle.
Uncle: What is the difference between this kompooter and that?
Salesman: Intel and AMD Processors Saar.
Uncle( not understanding a word): Oh I see! And what’s the difference between what you just told me?
Salesman : Cost and speed is different saar. Besides a few other differences.
Uncle (persisting): Like what?
Salesman ( as though waiting for the cue ): Well...Intel recently switched over their motherboards from the RDR memory to the DDR memory, which AMD was utilizing. There are three reasons for the swtich blah blah blah blah. Anyone who knows computers will tell you: heat is your enemy. Heat kills processors, plain and simple. The Pentium IV processor has major heat dissipation problems blah blah blah. AMD runs cooler because it's FSB has always been a constant 266MHz, and does not cause problems with DDR memory. The AMD Athlon blah blah blah besides it is priced lower.
Uncle: I see.
He turned smartly before the Salesman could say “Cheque or Cash?” and walked into the Laptop section and peered at the display, soda glasses straddling his nose. He went around one a couple of time like I have seen him do with the cattle he intended to purchase. A smartly dressed salesman appeared next to him.
Salesman: Anything in particular you are looking for?
Uncle (Pointing to a Laptop): what is this thing?
Salesman: It is a Laptop Computer.
Uncle: What is the difference between this and that…‘kompooter’?
Salesman (showing off): Laptop and desktop computers are very similar. They have the same basic hardware, software and operating systems. The primary difference is how their components fit together. Its screen is an integrated part of the unit, as is its keyboard blah blah blah.Unlike Desktop it is much smaller and blah blah blah and it is portable.
Uncle: “Portable??????” What’s that?
Salesman: It can be carried around.
Uncle: Interesting!
Salesman: (scenting a sale): Your son can easily move his Laptop from class to library to the caféteria. It also has DVD player so your son can watch movies too.
Uncle(incensed): Oh ho!!! No son of mine is watching movies in college when he should be studying!!
Salesman ( triumphant smile drying up fast): But... !!!
Jojo(in despair): Dad!!!!
Uncle: Keep quiet! ( turning to me )Let’s go to another shop and see if we can get something that will not corrupt this brainless fellow.
By evening, after going in and out of umpteen shops, my Uncle was elated with the knowledge he had gathered. Jojo and me were very tired and did not want to see a PC or Laptop for the rest of our lives. We also knew all there was to know about Monitors, Processors, Storage Devices, Sound, Graphics and Imaging and the number of Chai Kadaas on the highway and the differences in their tea/coffee brewing styles. And we were yet to buy a PC.
Me: Uncle, you better decide soon or we will have to take a room here. It is getting late.
Uncle: What a good idea!!! Tomorrow we can drive to Trivandrum I have heard you get better computer shops there!
Me: *groan*
Jojo: Zzzzzzzzz
We did finally pick up the PC from that first shop. My by-now-very-knowledgeable Uncle insisted on an AMD processor because...the salesman was so nice and had called him “saar”.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Operation Eye Balls
After a real nice vacation I think you will all agree that the last thing you want to see in your mail box are spam and mails stripped of malicious attachments! I spent nearly an hour sorting through genuine mails and deleting mails carrying these er...works-of-art. (a.k.a. Virus/Worms/Trojans/Spam.) That is a good hour of billed time I wasted. For God’s sake all you spammers and malicious programmers don’t you have a life? Maybe a girlfriend/boyfriend or a pimple that you wanna squeeze and burst? I guess not... seeing how busy you have been spamming me 24/7.
By now I have wised up and delete all mails with corny subjects like these...
I love you (but the feeling is not mutual dahling)
S**y picture (thanks for pointing it out, else I would have framed and hung it up)
Re: Enquiry (wow! this is the first time I have got a reply to an Enquiry)
Is that your password? ( hmm it does look familiar)
Re: improved (Ah I remember, you were selling Viagra last time, self medicating yourself yeah?)
Re: Valium news (It better be juicy news!)
Re: excel document (so Excel and Word had a love child? Does Bill know about this?)
For gods sake if you really want to infect PC’s and your spam mails read, then why not go for creative “Subjects”? I am more or less resigned to the inevitability of death, taxes and spam, so why not let me help you spammers/malicious programmers for a small fee?
Take a look at the sample "Subject" matter that I have created that will definitely make the receiver read your mails.
Hi, this is me from the next cubicle :) : Guaranteed to be read at the speed of light if recipient is male. Females will read it out of curiosity anyway. (Audio file of fluttering eye lashes can be arranged for an additional charge.)
Saw you in on my floor today,you are so handsome: Mail will read with gleeful look if recipient is male. Females as usual will read it out of curiosity.
Guess who HR was with yesterday night? Pictures attached: Attachments will be opened in record speed.
Shocking!!!! PM misbehaves with J. See attachment. Attachment opening guaranteed with vicarious glee on face even if there is no J in the company.
I am too shy to talk to you hence this mail: Mail reading guaranteed after furtive looks to see if the coast is clear.
Your performance appraisal: Attachment opening guaranteed in zero seconds
Your Manager’s Performance Appraisal Report, careful!: Guaranteed opening with evil grin on face.
Confidential: PL’s browsing history: Attachment forwarding guaranteed to 374343 people even before opening.
Complaints against you from your Reporting Manager: Attachment opening guaranteed after recipient says a brief ‘puja’.
And there is more where this comes from. If any of you creative people are reading this, do get in touch with me. My replies to you always bounce. My services are reasonably priced. Satisfaction guaranteed. And if you don’t want my services, then I will hire a spammer to spam you till you agree to buy.
Disclaimer: Samples shown here will work in IT companies only. For other organizations an additional “research” charge will be levied.
When you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em ;)
By now I have wised up and delete all mails with corny subjects like these...
I love you (but the feeling is not mutual dahling)
S**y picture (thanks for pointing it out, else I would have framed and hung it up)
Re: Enquiry (wow! this is the first time I have got a reply to an Enquiry)
Is that your password? ( hmm it does look familiar)
Re: improved (Ah I remember, you were selling Viagra last time, self medicating yourself yeah?)
Re: Valium news (It better be juicy news!)
Re: excel document (so Excel and Word had a love child? Does Bill know about this?)
For gods sake if you really want to infect PC’s and your spam mails read, then why not go for creative “Subjects”? I am more or less resigned to the inevitability of death, taxes and spam, so why not let me help you spammers/malicious programmers for a small fee?
Take a look at the sample "Subject" matter that I have created that will definitely make the receiver read your mails.
Hi, this is me from the next cubicle :) : Guaranteed to be read at the speed of light if recipient is male. Females will read it out of curiosity anyway. (Audio file of fluttering eye lashes can be arranged for an additional charge.)
Saw you in on my floor today,you are so handsome: Mail will read with gleeful look if recipient is male. Females as usual will read it out of curiosity.
Guess who HR was with yesterday night? Pictures attached: Attachments will be opened in record speed.
Shocking!!!! PM misbehaves with J. See attachment. Attachment opening guaranteed with vicarious glee on face even if there is no J in the company.
I am too shy to talk to you hence this mail: Mail reading guaranteed after furtive looks to see if the coast is clear.
Your performance appraisal: Attachment opening guaranteed in zero seconds
Your Manager’s Performance Appraisal Report, careful!: Guaranteed opening with evil grin on face.
Confidential: PL’s browsing history: Attachment forwarding guaranteed to 374343 people even before opening.
Complaints against you from your Reporting Manager: Attachment opening guaranteed after recipient says a brief ‘puja’.
And there is more where this comes from. If any of you creative people are reading this, do get in touch with me. My replies to you always bounce. My services are reasonably priced. Satisfaction guaranteed. And if you don’t want my services, then I will hire a spammer to spam you till you agree to buy.
Disclaimer: Samples shown here will work in IT companies only. For other organizations an additional “research” charge will be levied.
When you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em ;)
Friday, May 05, 2006
These are a few of my favorite things…
This is a Tag. Name 10 of life's simple pleasures that you like the most and then pick 10 people (you are invited to attempt this tag ) to do the same (I took Mind Curry's open invitation). Try to be original and creative and not to use the things someone else has already used.
Learning something new: I like to learn new stuff and also to learn more about things I love, like cooking and gardening. It is such a pleasure to then try it out and get it right!
The Nilgiri's: These Mountains are a haven to which I escape as often as I can. It is such a pleasure just being there.
Laughing: I like to read humor and laugh with friends over silly stuff like only gals do.
Silence: I love the sound of nothingness save for the chirping of birds.
Kerala: Love the place and going there and walking around in the quite Parambu is a simple but exquisite pleasure.
State of being content: When everything goes well and you feel you have done your best and there is no niggling feeling of something not quite right.
Flowers: I love flowers and I never pluck them. Love to see flowers growing on plants and shaking gently in the wind.
Rains: I love rains, even with it’s squishyness and muddiness and the fact that it deprives me of my evening walks. and the smell of the Earth after the showers is heavenly.
Walking: I love walking and thinking. And sometimes it is creeping tiredness that reminds me that I have to stop.
Swing: I love to ‘swing’ as in sitting on an ‘oonjaal’ and swinging. Can do that non stop. I still have a swing in the house.
Learning something new: I like to learn new stuff and also to learn more about things I love, like cooking and gardening. It is such a pleasure to then try it out and get it right!
The Nilgiri's: These Mountains are a haven to which I escape as often as I can. It is such a pleasure just being there.
Laughing: I like to read humor and laugh with friends over silly stuff like only gals do.
Silence: I love the sound of nothingness save for the chirping of birds.
Kerala: Love the place and going there and walking around in the quite Parambu is a simple but exquisite pleasure.
State of being content: When everything goes well and you feel you have done your best and there is no niggling feeling of something not quite right.
Flowers: I love flowers and I never pluck them. Love to see flowers growing on plants and shaking gently in the wind.
Rains: I love rains, even with it’s squishyness and muddiness and the fact that it deprives me of my evening walks. and the smell of the Earth after the showers is heavenly.
Walking: I love walking and thinking. And sometimes it is creeping tiredness that reminds me that I have to stop.
Swing: I love to ‘swing’ as in sitting on an ‘oonjaal’ and swinging. Can do that non stop. I still have a swing in the house.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Consistently inconsistent
The Tea and Coffee served on Indian Airlines is brewed by expert brewers with ingredients that are checked for quality and freshness. We also take great care to ensure consistency in quality and services in all our sectors.
This was the response that a friend of mine got from the Catering Manager, for a complaint that she filed with Indian Airlines for the weak and insipid Tea served in inflight. I am sure the Catering Manager was being honest.
Head Loader IA: Sir, I am due for promotion.
IA Officer: hmm do you know how to make Tea and Coffee?
Loader: Yes, sir.
IA officer: Ok you are hereby being promoted and transferred to the catering Department. Your new designation will be Tea and Coffee Brewer.
I have noticed that Consistency has been the trademark of IA since my earlier flights in the 80's. It is no mean feat to maintain consistency in service whether in flight or otherwise.
Flight XYZ to Delhi, 1988
Breakfast Menu:
Tasteless Idli/Sambhar/Omelette
Croissant
Jam
Butter
Fruit juice
Luke warm Tea/coffee
Flight XYZ to Delhi, 2006
Breakfast Menu:
Tasteless Idli/Sambhar/ Omelette
Croissant
Jam
Butter
Fruit juice
Luke warm Tea/coffee
That's called Consistency of In-flight Cuisine.
Flight XYZ to Mumbai, 1989
Me: Please ma'am, can I have some water?
IA Air Hostess: No!
Flight XYZ to Mumbai, 2005
Me: Can I have some water please?
IA Hostess: No!
That's called Consistency of In Flight Service.
Flight XYZ to Cochin, 2000
Me: Can I have an Aisle seat please ?
Booking Counter guy: All aisle seats are taken.
Flight XYZ to Cochin, 2004
Me: Can I have an Aisle seat please ?
Booking Counter guy: I told you three years ago that the all the aisle seats have been taken!!!!
That's called Consistency in Ground Service.
And finally:
Flight XYZ from Bangalore to Delhi, April 2006
Announcement over the PA.
Indian airlines Flight IC XYZ from Bangalore to Delhi is delayed due to technical problems. We regret the inconvenience caused to passengers.
Flight XYZ from Delhi to Bangalore, April 2006
Announcement over the PA.
Indian airlines Flight IC XYZ from Delhi to Bangalore is delayed due to late arrival of aircraft. We regret the inconvenience caused to passengers.
Well...you got to excuse them for this one lapse in Consistency. They are human after all.
This was the response that a friend of mine got from the Catering Manager, for a complaint that she filed with Indian Airlines for the weak and insipid Tea served in inflight. I am sure the Catering Manager was being honest.
Head Loader IA: Sir, I am due for promotion.
IA Officer: hmm do you know how to make Tea and Coffee?
Loader: Yes, sir.
IA officer: Ok you are hereby being promoted and transferred to the catering Department. Your new designation will be Tea and Coffee Brewer.
I have noticed that Consistency has been the trademark of IA since my earlier flights in the 80's. It is no mean feat to maintain consistency in service whether in flight or otherwise.
Flight XYZ to Delhi, 1988
Breakfast Menu:
Tasteless Idli/Sambhar/Omelette
Croissant
Jam
Butter
Fruit juice
Luke warm Tea/coffee
Flight XYZ to Delhi, 2006
Breakfast Menu:
Tasteless Idli/Sambhar/ Omelette
Croissant
Jam
Butter
Fruit juice
Luke warm Tea/coffee
That's called Consistency of In-flight Cuisine.
Flight XYZ to Mumbai, 1989
Me: Please ma'am, can I have some water?
IA Air Hostess: No!
Flight XYZ to Mumbai, 2005
Me: Can I have some water please?
IA Hostess: No!
That's called Consistency of In Flight Service.
Flight XYZ to Cochin, 2000
Me: Can I have an Aisle seat please ?
Booking Counter guy: All aisle seats are taken.
Flight XYZ to Cochin, 2004
Me: Can I have an Aisle seat please ?
Booking Counter guy: I told you three years ago that the all the aisle seats have been taken!!!!
That's called Consistency in Ground Service.
And finally:
Flight XYZ from Bangalore to Delhi, April 2006
Announcement over the PA.
Indian airlines Flight IC XYZ from Bangalore to Delhi is delayed due to technical problems. We regret the inconvenience caused to passengers.
Flight XYZ from Delhi to Bangalore, April 2006
Announcement over the PA.
Indian airlines Flight IC XYZ from Delhi to Bangalore is delayed due to late arrival of aircraft. We regret the inconvenience caused to passengers.
Well...you got to excuse them for this one lapse in Consistency. They are human after all.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Desi Werewolf
The Saas Bahu serials are quite a crowd puller here in Simla. It almost looks like people come to Simla to watch these since it is too hot in their part of their country to hold the remote without burning their hand on hot molten plastic. At least that’s the impression I get wherever I go. I saw a group of ladies from the four corners of the country sitting in a hotel lobby watching these serials. Perfect strangers but they "oohed" and "aahhed" and "sobbed" in perfect synchronization. Now that's what I call Unity in Diversity !
The storyline according to one lady who tried to explain it to me is apparently simple.
The serial mom is very angry ki beta shaadi kar ke aaya hai. Usually in Hindi movies, the maa’s will gently chide and tease their 50+ sons that she will get him a beautiful bahu (daughter in law).
Movie Ma: Beta, I will get you a beautiful bahu.
Movie Son: Oh maa * blush * I have seen a bahu for you.
Movie Ma: Sach??? (really?) I am so happy, when will I see my hone waali bahu?
Movie Son : *blush*
And our 50+ actor will then hug his mother and both will smile towards the camera waiting for the director to say "Cut".
The Serial Mom is slightly different. She brooks no nonsense from anyone. So when her son marries a girl without her consent she gets damn pissed off and swears vermillion revenge on her daughter in law (DIL). She vows to teach her DIL a lesson because her son didn’t learn one. And that is NEVER mess with a Serial Mom.
Son: Maa, I have married my child hood sweetheart
Serial Mom: * Snarl*
DIL (with chaste smile): Namaste Maaji!
Serial Mom: *Growl*
(Ad break for Head Cooling Hair Oil)
The DIL has the combined virtue of an entire convent and some monasteries put together and is as sweet as a Gulab Jamoon suffering from diabetes. She is harassed with all the tortures that the script writer can Google and gather and the Ma in Law’s script is heavily inspired from "My mother is a Werewolf".
DIL: Maaji, shall I make some tea for you?
Maa: *sneer* Your tea tastes like tap water.
Dil: Kshama keejiye maaji *sob* *sob*
(Ad break for Brooke Bond Tea)
If only the son had come home like a good boy without a woman, ma would have been so happy!
Son: Ma, Meet my life partner Pyaare Lal
Pyaare Lal (with unchaste smile):Namaste maaji !
(Ad break for Koffee with Karan)
Ma would have then rushed to her son and embraced him tears streaming down her cheek. Her son had not disobeyed her. And we would all be spared the agony of a Kyon Ki Saas bhi Kabhi Bahu thee.
That's all folks.Have a nice week.
The storyline according to one lady who tried to explain it to me is apparently simple.
The serial mom is very angry ki beta shaadi kar ke aaya hai. Usually in Hindi movies, the maa’s will gently chide and tease their 50+ sons that she will get him a beautiful bahu (daughter in law).
Movie Ma: Beta, I will get you a beautiful bahu.
Movie Son: Oh maa * blush * I have seen a bahu for you.
Movie Ma: Sach??? (really?) I am so happy, when will I see my hone waali bahu?
Movie Son : *blush*
And our 50+ actor will then hug his mother and both will smile towards the camera waiting for the director to say "Cut".
The Serial Mom is slightly different. She brooks no nonsense from anyone. So when her son marries a girl without her consent she gets damn pissed off and swears vermillion revenge on her daughter in law (DIL). She vows to teach her DIL a lesson because her son didn’t learn one. And that is NEVER mess with a Serial Mom.
Son: Maa, I have married my child hood sweetheart
Serial Mom: * Snarl*
DIL (with chaste smile): Namaste Maaji!
Serial Mom: *Growl*
(Ad break for Head Cooling Hair Oil)
The DIL has the combined virtue of an entire convent and some monasteries put together and is as sweet as a Gulab Jamoon suffering from diabetes. She is harassed with all the tortures that the script writer can Google and gather and the Ma in Law’s script is heavily inspired from "My mother is a Werewolf".
DIL: Maaji, shall I make some tea for you?
Maa: *sneer* Your tea tastes like tap water.
Dil: Kshama keejiye maaji *sob* *sob*
(Ad break for Brooke Bond Tea)
If only the son had come home like a good boy without a woman, ma would have been so happy!
Son: Ma, Meet my life partner Pyaare Lal
Pyaare Lal (with unchaste smile):Namaste maaji !
(Ad break for Koffee with Karan)
Ma would have then rushed to her son and embraced him tears streaming down her cheek. Her son had not disobeyed her. And we would all be spared the agony of a Kyon Ki Saas bhi Kabhi Bahu thee.
That's all folks.Have a nice week.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Raja
Last year on her visit to Kerala my mom picked up an unusual pet. The dogs at home were ‘foreign’ breeds unlike the mallu mongrels (the canine breed dear reader) that roam the sylvan Kerala countryside she said. So she decided that she would bring something from her native place that would remind her of home. Imagine our shock when the good lady gets down from the car and removes a cane basket from the boot. Then with a mysterious glint in her eyes she walks into the house. After looking at each other in bemusement and wondering aloud about creature she has picked up from Kerala, we hurried inside.
She was in the backyard, gingerly opening the lid of the basket. As soon as she opened the lid, there was a fluttering and squawking and out jumped an enormous ‘naadan’ Rooster. The rooster took to his heels and ran helter skelter as though exercising his legs after the long journey cramped in the economy class of the basket. The four of us i.e. Dad, my brothers couldn’t believe our eyes. Of all the creatures in the world my mom thought of a Rooster????
After our rather dramatic introduction to the rooster, we were told by his proud owner i.e. my mom that she had decided to call him Raja!!! There was pin drop silence after she dropped this bit of info. I could almost touch the wise cracks that were hanging in the air unsaid, but we wisely refrained from clever remarks till later, like when she was out of earshot. Before my Dad could say "So when will we get to taste Raja?" my mom shot down the question with a "Don’t even think about it!" After 30 years of marriage, she knew that this would be first thing that would come to his mind.
The first thing my mom learnt rather painfully was that Raja was a hot-blooded young man, much vaunt to showing off in front of the ‘ladies’ from the village nearby. So it was difficult to keep him within the four walls of our compound. He easily flew to the wall and jumped down for his trysts with the ‘ladies’. My Dad thought that Raja had great potential. He told my mom rather flippantly that if she charged a rupee for every one of his ‘trysts’ she would be a millionaire by the end of the month. The remark didn’t go down too well and further explanations are with held.
The second painful lesson my Mom learnt was that since the time she had learned English way back in the 70’s, the language had changed quite a bit. So when she asked me "Where is the cock?" she couldn’t comprehend the reaction from my brother and his friends lounging nearby. The resultant explanation given by me left her rather red faced. She never used the ‘English’ word again and stuck by the mallu word “Kozhipoovan”.
Raja was a rebel too. He would crow only when the fancy struck him or a ‘lady’ passed by. He refused to wake up the household in the morning. He didn’t quite feel that it was his style. So just when we are having evening tea, he would let out a lusty “Cock-a-doodle dooo” startling us out of our skins. Once he shook the house with his crowing at 4 am. I didn’t know till then that my Dad could curse so fluently even at such an unearthly hour.
Then came disaster in the form of Mr. Rao, who had a clutch of Leghorn layers (egg laying birds) in his yard. Mr. Rao was an organic farmer and his brood was totally bought up on organic food. Raja in all honesty felt he was a very "organic" fellow and the result was disastrous. His "organic" trysts were soon discovered by Mr. Rao, who gave an earful to my Dad in very "inorganic" language.
Soon it became apparent to my Mom that she would have to curtail the love life of The King of good times or spend the rest of her days in various lower courts. My brother thought "Tandoori Raja" would be an excellent idea in curtailment. My mother told him rather sarcastically that if "Tandoori Raja" was a sure fire cure then she wouldn’t mind trying "Tandoori Son" very soon.
Finally after much conferring with our Vet, my Mom decided to build an enclosure to keep Raja’s libido in check...err I mean Raja in check. He is right now in his brand new enclosure and not too happy about it. And if I stay here another second, his loud protest crowing and clucking will drive me nuts. I have been so ready since early morning to go to the airport for the evening flight.
See you folks next week. Take care. I am off to Simla :)
She was in the backyard, gingerly opening the lid of the basket. As soon as she opened the lid, there was a fluttering and squawking and out jumped an enormous ‘naadan’ Rooster. The rooster took to his heels and ran helter skelter as though exercising his legs after the long journey cramped in the economy class of the basket. The four of us i.e. Dad, my brothers couldn’t believe our eyes. Of all the creatures in the world my mom thought of a Rooster????
After our rather dramatic introduction to the rooster, we were told by his proud owner i.e. my mom that she had decided to call him Raja!!! There was pin drop silence after she dropped this bit of info. I could almost touch the wise cracks that were hanging in the air unsaid, but we wisely refrained from clever remarks till later, like when she was out of earshot. Before my Dad could say "So when will we get to taste Raja?" my mom shot down the question with a "Don’t even think about it!" After 30 years of marriage, she knew that this would be first thing that would come to his mind.
The first thing my mom learnt rather painfully was that Raja was a hot-blooded young man, much vaunt to showing off in front of the ‘ladies’ from the village nearby. So it was difficult to keep him within the four walls of our compound. He easily flew to the wall and jumped down for his trysts with the ‘ladies’. My Dad thought that Raja had great potential. He told my mom rather flippantly that if she charged a rupee for every one of his ‘trysts’ she would be a millionaire by the end of the month. The remark didn’t go down too well and further explanations are with held.
The second painful lesson my Mom learnt was that since the time she had learned English way back in the 70’s, the language had changed quite a bit. So when she asked me "Where is the cock?" she couldn’t comprehend the reaction from my brother and his friends lounging nearby. The resultant explanation given by me left her rather red faced. She never used the ‘English’ word again and stuck by the mallu word “Kozhipoovan”.
Raja was a rebel too. He would crow only when the fancy struck him or a ‘lady’ passed by. He refused to wake up the household in the morning. He didn’t quite feel that it was his style. So just when we are having evening tea, he would let out a lusty “Cock-a-doodle dooo” startling us out of our skins. Once he shook the house with his crowing at 4 am. I didn’t know till then that my Dad could curse so fluently even at such an unearthly hour.
Then came disaster in the form of Mr. Rao, who had a clutch of Leghorn layers (egg laying birds) in his yard. Mr. Rao was an organic farmer and his brood was totally bought up on organic food. Raja in all honesty felt he was a very "organic" fellow and the result was disastrous. His "organic" trysts were soon discovered by Mr. Rao, who gave an earful to my Dad in very "inorganic" language.
Soon it became apparent to my Mom that she would have to curtail the love life of The King of good times or spend the rest of her days in various lower courts. My brother thought "Tandoori Raja" would be an excellent idea in curtailment. My mother told him rather sarcastically that if "Tandoori Raja" was a sure fire cure then she wouldn’t mind trying "Tandoori Son" very soon.
Finally after much conferring with our Vet, my Mom decided to build an enclosure to keep Raja’s libido in check...err I mean Raja in check. He is right now in his brand new enclosure and not too happy about it. And if I stay here another second, his loud protest crowing and clucking will drive me nuts. I have been so ready since early morning to go to the airport for the evening flight.
See you folks next week. Take care. I am off to Simla :)
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
India Pak Peace Talks
India and Pakistan have been in a dialogue till now. Representatives of the two longtime adversaries, agreed to a timetable for a series of high-level meetings over the next several months. Expert opinions differ. Some are wary because of the history of animosity. Other experts, however, say that this time around might be different. The U.S. ambassador to India, told a Council on Foreign Relations meeting that he saw excellent chances for success in these talks.
The first such meeting was held in New Delhi last month.This reporter was privy to all meetings.
Foreign Secretary India: What should we have for our lunch discussion today?
Foreign Secretary Pakistan: Tangdi Kabab, Dal Makhani and Tandoori Roti?
Foreign Secretary India: Absolutely not. Lets have Masala Dosa instead.
Foreign Secretary Pakistan (aghast): Masala Dosa ??? UGH *hmph*
The first round of talks failed and the meeting was adjourned to the next month at Islamabad.
Indian Foreign Secretary: What is the menu for our dinner discussions?
Foreign Secretary Pakistan: Mutton Biryani, Lachedaar Paraatha and Sherbet
Indian Foreign Secretary: What??? No Curd Rice ?
Foreign Secretary Pakistan: er...what's Curd Rice?
Foreign Secretary India: How inconsiderate !!!*hmph*
The failure of the second round of talks was greeted with dismay by the international community .The resultant International pressure has led to the convening of a Ministerial level meeting in Simla.
Indian Minister: Welcome brother. We have arranged an excellent Mujra by Miss Masala after our Dinner talks.
Pakistani Minister( sulking): I want Aishwarya Rai to do the mujra.
Indian Minister: Well...our budget would not permit that.
Pakistani Minister: Then I am not talking to you. *hmph*
It was clear after the Ministerial level talks that there were irrevocable differences between the two countries and it has been decided that both Foreign Ministers would meet in Rawalpindi next.
Pakistani Minister: Salaam Alekum, we are honored by your presence here. What would you like to drink?
Indian Minister: Bhaang!!
Pakistani Minister: I am afraid we do not have Bhaang. I have Blue Label Whiskey specially ordered for you.
Indian Minister: You dont' have Bhaang?? Then I am not talking to you. *hmph*
According to inside sources, the high level discussions collapsed after India insisted that Pakistan stop supporting terrorists in Kashmir, and Pakistan insisted that India include final-status discussions on Kashmir as part of any future talks.
The first such meeting was held in New Delhi last month.This reporter was privy to all meetings.
Foreign Secretary India: What should we have for our lunch discussion today?
Foreign Secretary Pakistan: Tangdi Kabab, Dal Makhani and Tandoori Roti?
Foreign Secretary India: Absolutely not. Lets have Masala Dosa instead.
Foreign Secretary Pakistan (aghast): Masala Dosa ??? UGH *hmph*
The first round of talks failed and the meeting was adjourned to the next month at Islamabad.
Indian Foreign Secretary: What is the menu for our dinner discussions?
Foreign Secretary Pakistan: Mutton Biryani, Lachedaar Paraatha and Sherbet
Indian Foreign Secretary: What??? No Curd Rice ?
Foreign Secretary Pakistan: er...what's Curd Rice?
Foreign Secretary India: How inconsiderate !!!*hmph*
The failure of the second round of talks was greeted with dismay by the international community .The resultant International pressure has led to the convening of a Ministerial level meeting in Simla.
Indian Minister: Welcome brother. We have arranged an excellent Mujra by Miss Masala after our Dinner talks.
Pakistani Minister( sulking): I want Aishwarya Rai to do the mujra.
Indian Minister: Well...our budget would not permit that.
Pakistani Minister: Then I am not talking to you. *hmph*
It was clear after the Ministerial level talks that there were irrevocable differences between the two countries and it has been decided that both Foreign Ministers would meet in Rawalpindi next.
Pakistani Minister: Salaam Alekum, we are honored by your presence here. What would you like to drink?
Indian Minister: Bhaang!!
Pakistani Minister: I am afraid we do not have Bhaang. I have Blue Label Whiskey specially ordered for you.
Indian Minister: You dont' have Bhaang?? Then I am not talking to you. *hmph*
According to inside sources, the high level discussions collapsed after India insisted that Pakistan stop supporting terrorists in Kashmir, and Pakistan insisted that India include final-status discussions on Kashmir as part of any future talks.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
The Wanderer's Tags
I have been tagged by the great wanderer of the netherworld, cosmic voyager, Trans astral zig zagger the one and only Anand K.
5 people who top your shit list..... and why:
Indira Gandhi for The Simla Agreement.
Rajiv Gandhi for promising to take the country into the 21st Century and doing scant about it.
L.K. Advani for shamelesslesly escorting and handing over the imprisoned terrorists in exchange for the Indian airlines aircraft hijacked to Kandahar.
Indian intelligence agencies for failing to nab the big guns who have been wreaking havoc in the country from abroad
The Indian electorate for never realizing the power of their votes and capitalizing on the same.
Close brushes with death/danger:
1.On the road to Sikkim when an army truck nearly pushed us to oblivion into the Teesta river.
2. When I contracted Diphtheria as a baby and the doctor refused to accept my mother’s diagnosis. My folks had to rush me to Ernakulam Lissy Hospital in the night where they performed an emergency operation to open up the tissue that had already covered my throat.
5 Preferable modes of suicide, in descending order:
Never thought of suicide before, but I know the extreme pain of a broken hand and the excruciating moments before you arrive at the hospital. That one time I wished I were just dead. Fortunately before I could formulate an elaborate plan to kill myself the doc gave me a pain killer and suddenly I wanted to live again :)
But if I have to go meet my maker and ask him why he made this world, then I would prefer it be quick and painless like I don’t know how frankly.
5 Guilty pleasures:
Rum and Cola
Beer and Sprite (Shandy) in equal proportions
Eggs... I can eat any amount of eggs. I am an eggaholic and need at least one a day, possibly more…but the good doc has put the fear of God’s wrath for the sin of gluttony in the form of Cholesterol :(
Barbabra Cartland and Mills and Boon books ( this is my deepest darkest secret)
Black and White Malayalam Movies (can’t get enough of that and that’s why RG is in my dislike list. It is frustrating to see the abject helplessness of people in the pre liberalization days)
5 things you never want to forget:
1.To thank God every morning and before going to bed every night for being alive, having my limbs and faculties intact and the blessing of my family.
2.The Grand Family South India Trip, which left from Kerala in two buses, after my final exams in the last year of college. I don’t remember having so much fun ever.
3.My parent’s Silver Jubilee a few years back. We made our parents the blushing bride and groom by digging out their deep and dark secrets from their families, like the things they during their youth and after their engagement. First prize went for not being caught going for a movie together after the Engagement ( but this is Kerala and someone invariably knew). All the deep dark secrets were then read out at the Reception, which led to a lot of other skeletons from other couples cupboards come tumbling as some Achayans got slightly tipsy and very bold with the mike. A tipsy Achayan with a mike in hand is a disaster I learnt while ROFL.
4.My 21st birthday, my friends got together and gave me a surprise party before class complete with a cake shaped like a key.
5.My First Holy Communion
6.The day I became a Godmother to my cousin sister’s daughter
5 things you wish to forget:
1. 4th Standard: I was to recite a poem in a Poetry contest but forgot the lines on the stage. But I did remember that I had to bow after the recitation so bowed and left the stage.
2. 6th Standard: Independence Day Dance competition. My Rajasthani blouse string came undone and I bolted from the stage much to the bewilderment of the audience.
3. Soon after learning to drive I tried to reverse the car in a sharp U turn on Hosur Road. The car got stuck leading to a huge traffic pile up. Finally a tempo driver took over the car and reversed it for me. I did manage to show the finger to the KSRTC conductor who was cursing me fluently.
4. Scraped my hand while falling from a tree and didn’t tell anyone at home as I was forbidden to climb that tree close to the power lines. The wound festered leading to high fever and hospitalization, where they discovered the root of the trouble. It was an *ouch* painful experience.
5. The day my Grandfather died of lung cancer. He was a chain smoker but the best grandpa a girl could have.
5 really exotic dishes you have tried:
1. Frog legs ( at least that’s what they told it was )
2. Camel meat curry
3. Tiramisu
4. Handmade chocolate with peppermint filling( It was exotic the first time I tried it)
5. Injera and Chicken Curry Ethiopian ishtyle
5 crushes/loves in your life... in chronological order
1. I forget the priest’s name who came for Friday mass to our school. He was Goan and the entire school had a crush on him. So prayer responses went like this.
Priest: And may God bless all of you
Us: Sighhhhhhh (instead of ‘Amen’)
Priest: And may the Peace of the Lord be with you always!
Us: *droool*
2. My PT Teacher: forget his name.
3. Tom Selleck (the crush lives on to this day)
4. Harrison Ford (he still rulez)
5. Matt Le Blanc
Strangest dream you ever had:
I had a Doberman called Mika when I was 12 years old. Mika was sick and my parents didn’t tell me that she wasn’t going to live. One day my Grandad appeared in my dream and told me that he had come to take Mika. I woke up later and went to check on Mika. She was dead. The dream avoided a major heart break as I was very attached to Mika and felt she was with my Grandad in heaven. ( Mika I still love you)
5 most valued personal possessions:
1. The books gifted to me by my Grandad.
2. The Viewmaster that he bought from the US for my mom which he gave me.
3. The numerous audio and videotapes of birthdays, weddings, engagements etc that took place in the family.
4. My portfolio of creative work done during my ad agency days.
5. My grandmom’s wedding ring.
5 favorite superheroes..... and why: ( Redone as Anand wanted a 'brief' on superheroes who wear their underwear over their pants and fly and send thunderbolts from their eyes and fight all those monsters etc.)
a) Phantom: The first underwear over pant superhero, he appears from the shadows to deal with criminals and disappears after leaving his trademark, the 'skull' embedded on their skin.
b) Mandrake the Magician: He didnt exactly wear his undies over his pants but hey he was a magician and a real one at that who used his magical powers to fight crime.
c)Flash Gordon: The planet hopping superhero who flew so effortlessly across space. Fascinating.
d) Tarzan: Was raised by Apes and lived in the jungles and seemed to live a fascinating life talking to animals and getting their help to beat up the baddies.
e) Batman: The Dark Knight in Skintights :p His quest to fight crimes like the one that killed his parents was such a thrill read.
And now all of you cowering under the tables, beds and behind doors, I see you and hereby tag you to carry on the task that was entrusted to me by HRH Anand K.
Best of luck, If I tell ya, I'll have to kill ya , Ganja Turtle ,
Alexis Leon , Fleiger, Aashik , flaashgordon , Injinuity .
HAPPY EASTER EVERYBODY!!!!
5 people who top your shit list..... and why:
Indira Gandhi for The Simla Agreement.
Rajiv Gandhi for promising to take the country into the 21st Century and doing scant about it.
L.K. Advani for shamelesslesly escorting and handing over the imprisoned terrorists in exchange for the Indian airlines aircraft hijacked to Kandahar.
Indian intelligence agencies for failing to nab the big guns who have been wreaking havoc in the country from abroad
The Indian electorate for never realizing the power of their votes and capitalizing on the same.
Close brushes with death/danger:
1.On the road to Sikkim when an army truck nearly pushed us to oblivion into the Teesta river.
2. When I contracted Diphtheria as a baby and the doctor refused to accept my mother’s diagnosis. My folks had to rush me to Ernakulam Lissy Hospital in the night where they performed an emergency operation to open up the tissue that had already covered my throat.
5 Preferable modes of suicide, in descending order:
Never thought of suicide before, but I know the extreme pain of a broken hand and the excruciating moments before you arrive at the hospital. That one time I wished I were just dead. Fortunately before I could formulate an elaborate plan to kill myself the doc gave me a pain killer and suddenly I wanted to live again :)
But if I have to go meet my maker and ask him why he made this world, then I would prefer it be quick and painless like I don’t know how frankly.
5 Guilty pleasures:
Rum and Cola
Beer and Sprite (Shandy) in equal proportions
Eggs... I can eat any amount of eggs. I am an eggaholic and need at least one a day, possibly more…but the good doc has put the fear of God’s wrath for the sin of gluttony in the form of Cholesterol :(
Barbabra Cartland and Mills and Boon books ( this is my deepest darkest secret)
Black and White Malayalam Movies (can’t get enough of that and that’s why RG is in my dislike list. It is frustrating to see the abject helplessness of people in the pre liberalization days)
5 things you never want to forget:
1.To thank God every morning and before going to bed every night for being alive, having my limbs and faculties intact and the blessing of my family.
2.The Grand Family South India Trip, which left from Kerala in two buses, after my final exams in the last year of college. I don’t remember having so much fun ever.
3.My parent’s Silver Jubilee a few years back. We made our parents the blushing bride and groom by digging out their deep and dark secrets from their families, like the things they during their youth and after their engagement. First prize went for not being caught going for a movie together after the Engagement ( but this is Kerala and someone invariably knew). All the deep dark secrets were then read out at the Reception, which led to a lot of other skeletons from other couples cupboards come tumbling as some Achayans got slightly tipsy and very bold with the mike. A tipsy Achayan with a mike in hand is a disaster I learnt while ROFL.
4.My 21st birthday, my friends got together and gave me a surprise party before class complete with a cake shaped like a key.
5.My First Holy Communion
6.The day I became a Godmother to my cousin sister’s daughter
5 things you wish to forget:
1. 4th Standard: I was to recite a poem in a Poetry contest but forgot the lines on the stage. But I did remember that I had to bow after the recitation so bowed and left the stage.
2. 6th Standard: Independence Day Dance competition. My Rajasthani blouse string came undone and I bolted from the stage much to the bewilderment of the audience.
3. Soon after learning to drive I tried to reverse the car in a sharp U turn on Hosur Road. The car got stuck leading to a huge traffic pile up. Finally a tempo driver took over the car and reversed it for me. I did manage to show the finger to the KSRTC conductor who was cursing me fluently.
4. Scraped my hand while falling from a tree and didn’t tell anyone at home as I was forbidden to climb that tree close to the power lines. The wound festered leading to high fever and hospitalization, where they discovered the root of the trouble. It was an *ouch* painful experience.
5. The day my Grandfather died of lung cancer. He was a chain smoker but the best grandpa a girl could have.
5 really exotic dishes you have tried:
1. Frog legs ( at least that’s what they told it was )
2. Camel meat curry
3. Tiramisu
4. Handmade chocolate with peppermint filling( It was exotic the first time I tried it)
5. Injera and Chicken Curry Ethiopian ishtyle
5 crushes/loves in your life... in chronological order
1. I forget the priest’s name who came for Friday mass to our school. He was Goan and the entire school had a crush on him. So prayer responses went like this.
Priest: And may God bless all of you
Us: Sighhhhhhh (instead of ‘Amen’)
Priest: And may the Peace of the Lord be with you always!
Us: *droool*
2. My PT Teacher: forget his name.
3. Tom Selleck (the crush lives on to this day)
4. Harrison Ford (he still rulez)
5. Matt Le Blanc
Strangest dream you ever had:
I had a Doberman called Mika when I was 12 years old. Mika was sick and my parents didn’t tell me that she wasn’t going to live. One day my Grandad appeared in my dream and told me that he had come to take Mika. I woke up later and went to check on Mika. She was dead. The dream avoided a major heart break as I was very attached to Mika and felt she was with my Grandad in heaven. ( Mika I still love you)
5 most valued personal possessions:
1. The books gifted to me by my Grandad.
2. The Viewmaster that he bought from the US for my mom which he gave me.
3. The numerous audio and videotapes of birthdays, weddings, engagements etc that took place in the family.
4. My portfolio of creative work done during my ad agency days.
5. My grandmom’s wedding ring.
5 favorite superheroes..... and why: ( Redone as Anand wanted a 'brief' on superheroes who wear their underwear over their pants and fly and send thunderbolts from their eyes and fight all those monsters etc.)
a) Phantom: The first underwear over pant superhero, he appears from the shadows to deal with criminals and disappears after leaving his trademark, the 'skull' embedded on their skin.
b) Mandrake the Magician: He didnt exactly wear his undies over his pants but hey he was a magician and a real one at that who used his magical powers to fight crime.
c)Flash Gordon: The planet hopping superhero who flew so effortlessly across space. Fascinating.
d) Tarzan: Was raised by Apes and lived in the jungles and seemed to live a fascinating life talking to animals and getting their help to beat up the baddies.
e) Batman: The Dark Knight in Skintights :p His quest to fight crimes like the one that killed his parents was such a thrill read.
And now all of you cowering under the tables, beds and behind doors, I see you and hereby tag you to carry on the task that was entrusted to me by HRH Anand K.
Best of luck, If I tell ya, I'll have to kill ya , Ganja Turtle ,
Alexis Leon , Fleiger, Aashik , flaashgordon , Injinuity .
HAPPY EASTER EVERYBODY!!!!
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Misappropriation
A few decades back, cops chased robbers to apprehend them. A few decades later the cops still chase robbers...but it is to get their share of the loot. I think somewhere along the line the robbers and cops got tired of the chase and decided to split the loot amicably, instead of sweating it out in lanes and by lanes of Bangalore. As a result, ‘Misappropriation’ or robbery in common lingo has become an attractive profession. With the influx of Information Technology professionals into Bangalore, Robbery has become a lucrative profession too. In fact robbery can be called an ancillary industry of the Information Technology industry.
So stop tapping on that keyboard, coding and logging bugs and try out this exciting new employment opportunity. If you are looking for a fat pay packet, Action, Adventure, and that heady Adrenalin rush, then ‘Robbery’ is the perfect job for you.
For aspirants these Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) will be a lot of help. The FAQs was compiled by this writer with the help of Inspector Kempanna who would like to remain anonymous.
FAQ’s for students/aspirants.
Q: What is the difference between an ordinary man and a cop?
Ans: The ordinary man is law abiding.
Q. What is the difference between a cop and a robber?
Ans: A robber does not have to wear uniform to work.
Q. What are the similarities between a robber and a cop?
Ans: Both are robbers.
Q. Is robbery a dangerous profession?
Ans: No, not if you remit your IT deductions properly.
Q. Are robbed items subject to Income Tax?!?!?!
Ans: IT stands for Illegal Takings. You have to give a percentage of the Illegal Takings to the cops. This is known as IT deduction. Otherwise they will hunt you down more efficiently than the Scotland Yard. Most robbers in jail are IT defaulters.
Q. Is there anyway I can avoid paying IT deductions?
Ans: Death and taxes are inevitable and gruesome death is inevitable if you are an Illegal Takings evader.
Q. How do I become a robber?
Ans: By informing the local police station.
Q. Is there any hierarchy among robbers?
Ans: Yes, the Sub Inspector is the top dog followed by the Constable who is Top Cat (it's complicated).
Q. Can I rob in any area?
Ans: No, you will be assigned an area by the Cops and Robbers Association. This prevents a homeowner from being robbed twice in a day.
Q. What will be my take home salary?
Ans: The sky is the limit. The more you rob the more you make minus IT deductions. Besides income from robbery is totally exempt from all other taxes.
Q: Do I have to declare all that I rob to the cops?
Ans: Yes, they will know the exact list of stolen items from the FIR filed by the robbed.
Q. What if I am not a successful robber?
Ans: Then you can go back to a regular 9 to 6 job.
Q: What is the retirement age for Robbers.
Ans: There is no retirement age for Robbers, but it better to save for a rainy day oops...I mean dry day as rainy day takings are very good.
*********
Inspector Kempanna has helped me compile some FAQ for Ordinary Citizens too. This will help you get you your valuables back…at least part of it.
FAQ’s for ordinary citizens.
Q. What should I do after I realize I am robbed?
Ans: Take a stiff shot of whiskey. In case you don’t drink then start drinking. You will need it. Make sure the whisky is well hidden for such eventualities. The dustbin is a good place.
Q. Will that help me get back my valuables?
Ans: No, but it will help you go back to sleep.
Q. But shouldn’t I inform the cops immediately?
Ans; Don’t bother, they already know.
Q. What should I do after I wake up?
Ans: Make a Wish List of things that you would like to buy if you win the Lottery. Then file an FIR declaring the things in your Wish List as the missing items from your home.
Q. Will that FIR help me get back my valuables?
Ans: No, but the cops will be hot on the heels of the robber for not getting their share of IPods, Playstation, Lear Jets, Mercedes, Ferrari, Pleasure Boats, 20 room bungalow with swimming pool etc.
Q. But my wish list has Aiswarya Rai and Bipasha Basu too. Will it be a problem?
Ans: No, it will not be a problem, unless Aishwarya and Bipasha from the Jolly Girl Dance Bar has retired or left town.
Q. And what if Aishwarya and Bipasha from the Jolly Girl Dance Bar have retired and left town?
Ans: Then the robber will be given Third Degree to reveal where he has hidden them.
Q. Will I ever get my valuables back?
Ans: Yes, it will be returned the moment you agree to give the SI half of the ‘recovered’ valuables. Your possessions will be in his house anyways for valuation.
Q. And what if I do not want to give half of my valuables to the cops.
Ans: Rob the SI.
Q. What happens to the robber?
Ans: If he is still alive he will go to jail for robbing you and after he is released from jail will pay a monthly fine to the cops for the rest of his life for not revealing the location of the IPods, Playstation, Lear Jets, Mercedes, Ferrari, Pleasure Boats, 20 room bungalow with swimming pool, Aishwarya and Bipasha.
( This post was written after a colleague was robbed and the cops asked her to give money or part of the recovered valuables as their fees)
So stop tapping on that keyboard, coding and logging bugs and try out this exciting new employment opportunity. If you are looking for a fat pay packet, Action, Adventure, and that heady Adrenalin rush, then ‘Robbery’ is the perfect job for you.
For aspirants these Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) will be a lot of help. The FAQs was compiled by this writer with the help of Inspector Kempanna who would like to remain anonymous.
FAQ’s for students/aspirants.
Q: What is the difference between an ordinary man and a cop?
Ans: The ordinary man is law abiding.
Q. What is the difference between a cop and a robber?
Ans: A robber does not have to wear uniform to work.
Q. What are the similarities between a robber and a cop?
Ans: Both are robbers.
Q. Is robbery a dangerous profession?
Ans: No, not if you remit your IT deductions properly.
Q. Are robbed items subject to Income Tax?!?!?!
Ans: IT stands for Illegal Takings. You have to give a percentage of the Illegal Takings to the cops. This is known as IT deduction. Otherwise they will hunt you down more efficiently than the Scotland Yard. Most robbers in jail are IT defaulters.
Q. Is there anyway I can avoid paying IT deductions?
Ans: Death and taxes are inevitable and gruesome death is inevitable if you are an Illegal Takings evader.
Q. How do I become a robber?
Ans: By informing the local police station.
Q. Is there any hierarchy among robbers?
Ans: Yes, the Sub Inspector is the top dog followed by the Constable who is Top Cat (it's complicated).
Q. Can I rob in any area?
Ans: No, you will be assigned an area by the Cops and Robbers Association. This prevents a homeowner from being robbed twice in a day.
Q. What will be my take home salary?
Ans: The sky is the limit. The more you rob the more you make minus IT deductions. Besides income from robbery is totally exempt from all other taxes.
Q: Do I have to declare all that I rob to the cops?
Ans: Yes, they will know the exact list of stolen items from the FIR filed by the robbed.
Q. What if I am not a successful robber?
Ans: Then you can go back to a regular 9 to 6 job.
Q: What is the retirement age for Robbers.
Ans: There is no retirement age for Robbers, but it better to save for a rainy day oops...I mean dry day as rainy day takings are very good.
*********
Inspector Kempanna has helped me compile some FAQ for Ordinary Citizens too. This will help you get you your valuables back…at least part of it.
FAQ’s for ordinary citizens.
Q. What should I do after I realize I am robbed?
Ans: Take a stiff shot of whiskey. In case you don’t drink then start drinking. You will need it. Make sure the whisky is well hidden for such eventualities. The dustbin is a good place.
Q. Will that help me get back my valuables?
Ans: No, but it will help you go back to sleep.
Q. But shouldn’t I inform the cops immediately?
Ans; Don’t bother, they already know.
Q. What should I do after I wake up?
Ans: Make a Wish List of things that you would like to buy if you win the Lottery. Then file an FIR declaring the things in your Wish List as the missing items from your home.
Q. Will that FIR help me get back my valuables?
Ans: No, but the cops will be hot on the heels of the robber for not getting their share of IPods, Playstation, Lear Jets, Mercedes, Ferrari, Pleasure Boats, 20 room bungalow with swimming pool etc.
Q. But my wish list has Aiswarya Rai and Bipasha Basu too. Will it be a problem?
Ans: No, it will not be a problem, unless Aishwarya and Bipasha from the Jolly Girl Dance Bar has retired or left town.
Q. And what if Aishwarya and Bipasha from the Jolly Girl Dance Bar have retired and left town?
Ans: Then the robber will be given Third Degree to reveal where he has hidden them.
Q. Will I ever get my valuables back?
Ans: Yes, it will be returned the moment you agree to give the SI half of the ‘recovered’ valuables. Your possessions will be in his house anyways for valuation.
Q. And what if I do not want to give half of my valuables to the cops.
Ans: Rob the SI.
Q. What happens to the robber?
Ans: If he is still alive he will go to jail for robbing you and after he is released from jail will pay a monthly fine to the cops for the rest of his life for not revealing the location of the IPods, Playstation, Lear Jets, Mercedes, Ferrari, Pleasure Boats, 20 room bungalow with swimming pool, Aishwarya and Bipasha.
( This post was written after a colleague was robbed and the cops asked her to give money or part of the recovered valuables as their fees)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
