The Way I Am...

There are people who have fixed goals and dreams in their lives. They know what they want and they have their lives and careers planned right from their graduation till they are thrown their retirement party at the end of it all… And then there’s me.

The First thing I wanted to be was a Spy. This was the period I was drowned in Jeffrey Archers and Robert Ludlums and learnt that KGB was Komitet Gazudastrevenoy Bezopasnosti. But anyway, the spy guy seemed to have the best life possible- cool gadgets, very helpful contacts, one of who invariably turned out to be a very good-looking lass and free trips to every country in the world! That dream’s not dead and buried yet. I DO know 5 languages, with fluencies ranging from perfect to Yeah-I-can-Survive-in-Spain. And I know three moves in Taekwondo. And I can tell a Browning Automatic from a Luger…

Then I wanted to be a Fighter Pilot… but that dream never took off!!! That’s because by the time I realized I wanted to be that, I already had a minor power in my right eye and thought it has not worsened, they say that you need 20/20 in both eyes to be a pilot… I think I have 15 or something in my right. But still, it would’ve been fun to take a MIG-21 up there and do a cobra-maneuver in it, wouldn’t it?

I think next up was Auto-Journalist. It would be the dream-job, really. I mean what other job lets you take Porches and BMWs at record breaking speeds around racetracks AND pays you for doing it??! I tell you, these auto-journos are the luckiest people on the face of this earth. PLUS the free trip all over the world to International Auto Expos to ogle at models… of cars, of course.

There have been cranky times when I’ve wanted to be nothing. You know, like, carry a backpack, hitchhike all over the world and do odd jobs here and there to refill the wallet. And as I already said, I AM a man who walks alone! Don’t know how wise a career option THAT is though…

And THEN I wanted to be a Football Player. Clearly, I have the pace and I’m not an old dog yet so I CAN learn new tricks. Besides the only time when I get unrivalled joy, other than when I am driving my car, is when I have the football at my feet and am juggling with it. Sure, it is the most physically demanding of all my dreams, but at least it won’t get me killed like Spying might… I think! Of course, all this was before I broke my foot. Now, I can’t even run.

You think there must be a latest fad, right? OF COURSE, there is. Now, I just want to be a Stand-Up Comedian. I know I’m funny when I want to be, and it shouldn’t take too much for me to morph my situational humour to the stand-up kind. Or I could just use some of the signs put up by our dear Traffic Police. I mean, there is this one which says “Accident Prone Zone. DEAD slow”. What’re they trying to say??? That if the accident doesn’t get you, going slow will? That either way… you’re dead???

So you see, I’m a very multi-faceted individual (Ha! That’s for you all who thought I’ll say CONFUSED individual!). And as befalls a man of so many talents as me, I seem to be faced with a problem of plenty. Well, I guess I just have to learn to live with it because… it’s just The Way I Am…

I WON'T give a title!

My All-Time Favourite Characters (fictional or mythical or whatever):

1. Anbuselvan I.P.S
2. Rajesh
3. Percy Balckeney
4. Bruce Wayne
5. Abhimanyu


Top 5 Vivek Movies:

1. Minnale - SLISHA ob.

2. Saami - Again...

3. Badri - Not many people know this but he's REALLY good in this too

4. Parthiban Kanavu - Respected Sir, As I am suffering from fever...

5. Run - Funny in parts. Sporadic. Not the unbelievable flow of Minnale or the punch-after-punch of Saami...


I know I haven't blogged in a while... I also know this is a poor excuse...

Whatever.

Love, Passion and Disgust.

It started 6 years ago… this love affair of mine. I remember it was my umpteenth school for just my Eighth Standard. It was a new place, a new system with new people around. Being the new guy was an ‘old’ thing for me. I had been new guy 7 times before, so this was nothing new. But what I always did first to get over this new guy thing was to find something… someone to hold on to. And that’s when this happened…

We started off on a high. I liked everything I knew, saw or heard about ‘my’ one (And let’s just stick to that, shall we? We’ll call my one… My one… MO… ok?). So anyway, it was love at first encounter. I’m not sure however, if the feeling was reciprocated. I wouldn’t be surprised if even my existence was even unknown to MO. I mean, MO was popular beyond measure, filled with success and on an elated high… surely there would be more than one admirer!

The love grew over the years and as the seasons flew past, our lives became more intertwined. I got to know more and more about MO and my love just turned to passion. I would do my best to make sure we spent as much time as possible together, that all my Saturday Nights were scheduled around MO’s convenience… it was an affair like none other and passion was an irreplaceable part of our affair.

But the old adage “Familiarity Breeds Contempt” was not said for nothing. It takes only a very small time… an hour or an hour and a half for all that you believe in to crumble into dust… for Passion to turn into Disgust and then Despair. It was a late night date, post-dinner when it happened. We started off like usual, on a passionate high. MO gave me a gift, a surprise so joyous that it made me sit up and focus my entire attention. But from there, it was just downhill all the way that night. First, the gift was cruelly taken away and then MO did some very uncharacteristic things that I simply turned away in disgust, asking myself if THIS was the one I had been so passionate about, around whom I had built my evenings… As the night drew to a close, the disgust turned to despair and this was then replaced by a numbing calmness… a resignation to fate…

I’m not saying it’s all over between MO and me… Sure, AC Milan might be the highest-ranked team in FIFA 2005, and their back four of Maldini, Nesta, Stam and Cafu might be practically impenetrable. Sure, Chelsea might be a bunch of talented individuals who have clicked together like well-oiled machinery thanks to their Manager. Sure, Arsenal might play oh-so-wonderful one-touch football at times that you wonder how they fail to score at all… And SURE, there might be ONLY ONE KEANO…

But that does not mean my love affair with Manchester United will end. One small setback in a club of champions and championships will not be enough to turn me away from Man Utd. forever… Oh no…

GLORY, GLORY MAN UNITED!

Epilogue: Benfica 2-1 Man Utd. This scoreline meant that Man Utd failed to qualify for the knockout stages of the Champs League for the first time in 10 seasons. George Best would’ve turned in his grave, remembering the Benfica 1-4 Man Utd match, which made Manchester United The European Champions then… How ironic is life!

Top Ten Movie Lines.

Disclaimer: The following post reflects the individual opinion of the Author alone and is in no way related to general public opinion or any other poll conducted by any other reputed agency (Oh god, I'm crapping!)


10. Terminator 1,2 AND 3!

"I'll be back"

ONLY because no ranking of movie lines is complete without this! Personally I think it is the dumbest, most cliched, most meaningless line ever uttered... but it ROCKS ;)

9. Jerry Maguire

"Show me the money"

If ever there was a case where an actor got an Oscar for uttering a single line, THIS has to be it. Though one must admit, Cuba Gooding Jr. was excellent in that movie. It is almost an injustice to give him a Supporting Actor Oscar there... Best Actor would've been fairer.

8. Good Morning, Vietnam

"Gooooood Morning Vietnam!"

No other reason except for the fact that this is one of the lines which is just stuck in my head. This is where the disclaimer is applied in its fullest...

7. Apollo 13

"Houston, we have a problem."

Apart from becoming one of the most used AND most misused line of its times, I love this line simply for the number of wisecracks it spawned. For example, imagine the people on Apollo 13 were watching an asteroid heading right towards the earth. What would they have said? "Houston, YOU have a problem!"

6. Casablanca

"What in heaven's name brought you to Casablanca?"
"My health. I came to Casablanca for the waters."
"The waters? What waters? We're in the desert."
"I was misinformed."

This dialogue is the epitome of lying with a straight face. Humphrey Bogart just skips from line to line, or rather, lie to lie with a face as serious as Ganguly reacting to his loss of captaincy...

5. Gladiator

"Fratres! Three weeks from now I will be harvesting my crops. Imagine where you will be, and it will be so. Hold the line! Stay with me! If you find yourself alone, riding in green fields with the sun on your face, do not be troubled, for you are in Elysium, and you're already dead!!!
Brothers:
What we do in Life echoes in Eternity...."

A monologue which has remained etched in time since the third time I saw Gladiator, and which I say along with Russel Crowe everytime I saw the movie again (currently on 9 times...)

4. A Few Good Men

"You want answers?"
"I want the truth."
"You can't handle the truth!"

A small part of the long court scene in the movie, and a favourite monoacting piece as well. Though it has to be said, no one can pull off the Jack Nicholson part...

3. Godfather

"I'll make him an offer he can't refuse"

The line which went from the book to the movie and which has been immortalized by Marlon Brando in that unbelievable role as Godfather...

2. Spiderman

"Whatever life holds in store for me, I will never forget these words, with great power, comes great responsibility. This is my gift, this is my curse. Who am I? I'm Spiderman."

A very meaning-filled dialogue... or rather monologue. I have had the same thought myself, of course, not about having Spider-Powers, but about other things...

1. Gladiator

"My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius, father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife, and I will have my vengeance -- in this life or the next."

Ok, so I'm obsessed with this movie. Go ahead, shoot me.


I have three exams in a row coming up from tomorrow. I find myself not caring a bit.

"I loathe myself" - Chandler Bing.

Yeah well...

I've been tagged to do this (I sugggest you read it first) by my dearest, bestest, closest friend Gobaz, and I simply couldn't refuse him.... could I??? ;)

And since I'm apparently supposed to prove that I AM a true IITian, I'll try to put forth the best description of the stereotypical IITian

1. IIT LINGO ROCKS! It is THE most functional language ever discovered. Why say football when footer would suffice? And OBLY, there can be NO English word which can adequately substitute for RG or CUPPED. And DON'T even get me started on the unbelievable multi-functionality of 'puteetz'. I can keep going like this about other words which are now an intrinsic part of my vocabulary... so let's stop.
2. I don't say "Stop talking" or "Shut up" or "I know better" or any such lame thing. The phrase currently in vogue is "JUST cock up" with a sufficient emphasis on and pause after 'just'. It is so incisive, like you are scything through the dumb thing the other guy just said.
3. My LOWEST level of swearing is f***... and from then, it increases exponentially with suitable adjectives added as the situation warrants.
4. Crash! Bang! Clang! Growl! Roar! is still my favourite type of music. I'm sorry, but nothing else gets me high than a guitarist at full speed, a drummer at full blast and a singer at full pitch.
5. As hard as I try to study non-stop the day before the exam or a quiz, sometimes I just give up and lie back and wonder about the futility of it all. And ask the common question that EVERY IITian would've asked himself at some point of time- "WHAT am I doing here??!"
6. I'm more nocturnal than a bat. So what if the Dean came up with the brilliant idea of severing the Internet by 1 o'clock? I'll watch a movie from 1 to 3...
7. Breakfast is a meal which has disappeared from my eating habits. Mostly I wake up just in time to unload my bowels and rush to class... or I wake up after the mess has closed!
8. I CAN'T live without my laptop. The first two things I open as soon as I wake up are my eyes and my laptop... not necessarily in that order!
9. I bathe two days a week (just above average, I think).
10. I find classes INCREDIBLY boring. As soon as I sit in one of them, the yawns just keep coming. And don't say it's cos I don't sleep. I crash well enough in the afty.
11. I hate the mess. It's one thing here which lives up to its name. Every time I eat a little fillingly in the mess, I start getting acid-smelling burps and... stuff. You know...
12. I drink tea and not coffee in the mess (I don't know how this is stereotyping an IITian... I think we are split right down the middle w.r.t that)
13. My Favourite Time of the Year is SAARANG!!! Am I an IITian or WHAT!
14. The first time I went to our gigantic library was to take my ID card photo... it was the last time as well.
15. I slip into English much more often than Tamil... but then, more appropriately, I slip into IIT lingo, and not English :)
16. I watch Champions League matches from 1 to 3... in the night.
17. FIFA 2005 ROCKS!!! and Career Mode in that rocks even more.
18. And finally, to say the same thing as Gobaz, I respond easier to "duckman", "ducky", "ducker" and all other such variations than Anand :)

I rest my case.

Should I tag someone??? Dharik, Spanky, CB... anyone would do.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

The thing about dreams is that they are such double-edged swords. I am of course talking about ACTUAL dreams, the things that come in the night when you are in your REM sleep... not the "I dream of owning a HUGE house some day" kind. Those I would call aspirations or hopes or wishes or fantasies or any other n number of words that Roget's Thesaurus can throw up for dreams.

But anyway, getting back to why Dreams are such double-edged swords... As long as you are IN them, or HAVING them you are all happy and contented. (Again, if you are in dreams that do NOT make you hapy and all, I would classify them nightmares, so I ain't talking about THEM either.) You are playing out what you always wanted to be, topper guy, knight-in-shining armour, football player, secret agent... whatever. And all the details appear so very vividly that it's like you're watching this extremely well made movie with you in the lead role and you feel extremely satisfied inside. (Again, I don't know how this is possible. I mean, you are ASLEEP, so how can you FEEL anything??? And yet, when I wake up, I distinctly remember running through a gamut of emotions during the dream...)

And then of course, you're up and awake and everything vanishes in the small instant of opening your eyes. And then the depressing reality dawns upon you that it was a dream after all... AGAIN! I mean, you've had so many by now that you would hope that at least ONE of them would turn out to be true, turn out with the perfect storyline as the dream promised but NO! It always ends in a vague babble of words and thoughts and that shrill ring of the alarm in your ear. For a moment you are feeling very low, as if you had been promised heaven and then had it taken away just as you were entering it. But then you shake your head, realise that such excitement and perfection as was portrayed in the dream would never be possible in real life and swing your legs out of bed to throw yourself into another day in the drab, everyday world...

If you're wondering what prompted this post, yes, I had a wonderful dream yesterday night... Perfect setting, story, ending etc... and then I woke up!

And so, the world still goes around

You know what they say about life being stranger than fiction? Clearly those who said it KNEW what they were talking about. If this was a movie, the two incidents would probably have been sequenced side by side (as it DID actually happen)... maybe taken in reverse chronlogy, Memento style!

I mean, there is my life, going on as it is, with nothing much in it. And then this first thing happens. I mean it's one of those things you know. Boom, boom, boom they hit you and then when you're where nothing MORE can hit you, Boom, boom, they go again :). And by then you're pretty much convinced that all of life AND its artillery is lined up right against you.

And then there's this other guy... I barely know him, I'm dumping him with what I myself can see is a very unfair amount of work this time of the semester and he cheerfully does all of it, comes back and says "It's done."
Me: "Sorry Man, I had no choice."
Him: "No Problem! Cya..."
And then you realize why the world still goes around, why it still rains in Chennai and why there is still hope for this world...

Matthew Perry Says.

"After I got my first laugh on stage, I was hooked."

"If there's a silence in a room I'll try to fill it as soon as humanly possible."

"The goal is to have to do the shot again because the camera guy shook a little bit as he was laughing. Without that happening, I'm not happy because there's nothing better for me than a world that everybody's just trying to make each other laugh."

"I really lived life to its fullest and that got me in trouble from time to time."

"I used to be a real prince charming if I went on a date with a girl. But then I'd get to where I was likely to have a stroke from the stress of keeping up my act. I've since learned the key to a good date is to pay attention to her."

"There are two ways to go when you hit that crossroads in your life: There is the bad way, when you sort of give up, and then there is the really hard way, when you fight back. I went the hard way and came out of it okay. Now, I'm sitting here and doing great."

"Well, I was lucky enough to be involved in about 19 failures at an early age, so I'm realistic about the success I'm having and how quickly it can go away. What's important is to be smart about it."

"When I read the script of Chandler, I thought WOW I can really shake hands with this guy. Chandlers a sarcastic guy, dry, funny - a guy who's not comfortable unless he's joking and hiding the emotional stuff that's going on with him. And Yeah, I can relate to that a bit."

-Matthew Perry (a.k.a Chandler Bing on "F.R.I.E.N.D.S" (1994-2004))

I recently had to do a presentation on some personality. I picked this guy. It's like he himself says... when he read the script of Chandler, he wanted to shake hands with him... so do I.

There ARE people whose lives mirror your own, whose actions, thoughts, feelings tend to be the same as yours... they are the ones you can draw your inspiration from, look up to and say "Hey, look, this is as near a preview of your life as you can get. So use it as a template, modify it to your own situation and hope you come out tops..."

As Chandler would say- You big Freak of Nature!

(Met)a(l)lice Revolutions

This is the concluding part of my "dream-story". It will obviously be the crappiest too as I HAVE to necessarily use the remaining songs, unlike Part I or Part II where I could choose the songs. Anyway...


On hearing the summon, The Hare and The Hammet set off behind the horsemen like they were answering the Call of the Ktulu or something. Lars and Hames looked at each other, shrugged, and decided to follow them. Just as Lars was about to start walking, he heard a tiny voice scream, "Don't Tread on Me!"

The two looked down to find a tiny caterpillar with puffs of smoke around his head. Hames lifted it up in his palm and saw a two-headed caterpillar smoking a Hookah. "And what might you be?", asked Lars quite naturally, as he had lost the ability to be surprised by things in that place.
"I'm a 2x4, see. Two heads and Four legs." Then it stiffened its miniscule body, drew a deep breath in and started in a stentorian voice, "I'm the Leper Messiah, the one who represents all the unfortunate, the handicapped, the two-headed..." At this, its voice trailed off and it looked melancholy, "I'm the Harvester of Sorrow. I collect the woes of all such people and submit them to the queen."

"Oh, but how did you end up as such a Damaged Case?" Lars was curious to know.

"A Bad Seed, that's how. My Mama Said I could eat it and that it was the same as any other. But no sooner had I done so, poof! There I was, two-headed and four-legged. It must've had some Thorn Within, and now, there's no Fixer who can cure this problem."

"Ah yes, very sad, the story of this Damage of yours. But we're going to the trial now, you wanna tag along?" asked Hames.

The caterpillar, however, went on as if it hadn't heard him, "Yes, yes. You want to hear another story? It's a story Of a Wolf And Man. It..."

"That's Red Riding Hood." interrupted Lars, unceremoniuosly.

"It is?" the caterpillar asked thoughtfully and then conceded, "Ok, it is. But then, can't you allow one moment of Free Speech for The Dumb? Do you HAVE to interrupt? Oh my stars are all wrong... My whole Astronomy is screwed up." it lamented.

"You mean ASTROLOGY?" corrected Hames.

"There! You did it again! Didn't let me finish!", shrieked the caterpillar. By now Hames was reaching the Frayed Ends of Sanity. Shaking his head, he put the caterpillar down and said, "Whatever, we are off to the trial. See you there, hopefully. Hasta La Vista, Baby."

"You mean Carpe Diem, Baby, right? You can't use Spanish here, the Metal Militia will be onto you in a flash."

But by now, Lars and Hames were tired of the caterpillar's constant bickering and had moved away. Pretty soon, they came upon the courthouse, which was nothing but a palatial mansion which bore the name "Greenhell". They entered to find that the Rabbit was already pleading its case, "...Bleeding Me. That's why I couldn't make it on time. It was no fault of mine, Oh King. Blame it on him, blame it on my Loverman."

"So you should have Fought Fire with Fire, right? You should've knocked him down, left him to his Creeping Death and made it on time!" said the King. Turning to his Queen, he asked, "What do you think Dear, 50 Whiplashes?"

"What!" screamed the queen, "Let him off that easily? Of course not! Kill The Wabbit!" she screamed again. Then, turning to the Rabbit, she grinned wickedly, "Die, Die My Darling."

"Wait!" shouted Hames as the whole court turned and looked at him.

"Ah, Enter Sandman." the Hare announced. Hames walked up and took the stand. He looked around till the crowd fell silent and then started off in his deep voice, "How can you condemn someone to death just like that? Look at him, a poor Outlaw Torn between death and duty. Do you know the impact a death can cause? Do you even understand the value of life. that you take it away so easily? Do you" he asked, pointing at the queen, "know how it is to Ride The Lightning? Have you felt the Ecstacy of Gold? Have you ever lost yourself in the Low Man's Lyric?" At this point, Hames' voice had reached a crescendo and he stopped to catch his breath. The whole crowd stared with bated breath at the queen, who had gone prety red in the face. Then she drew a deep breath and screamed, "Off with his head!"

Hames felt the floor of the stand dropout from under him and plunged into a gaping hole. Lars was shocked at this and not knowing what to do, ran and dived in after Hames into the same hole. After a long fall, they landed on grass of some kind and were dazed for a second. They shook their heads and got up on their feet to find themselves back on the riverbank. They looked at each other for a moment, not knowing what to say and then Lars asked, "Hangover?"

"Oh yes... Yeah, guess so, sure." Hames hesitated, "You don't remember any Rabbits or Hares, do you?"

"Well, I mean... yeah, it's kind of vague in my mind, something about Hares and Queens and stuff. I think it's best if we agree that our trip Through the Neverland just didn't happen."

"Yes yes." Hames hurriedly agreed, "You know, it's like a story. It gets over, you Turn The Page and move on."

They walked along in silence towards their car. Then Hames turned to Lars and said, "You know, after ALL that, I've attained a new outlook in life. From now on, I'm going to concentrate on my music, NOTHING ELSE MATTERS!"

(Met)a(l)lice Reloaded

This is Part II of a three-part series. If you missed Part I, read it here before proceeding.


As they walked away from the Cheshire Cat, they came upon a scurrying White Rabbit muttering to itself, "Too Late, Too Late, I'm already so late, The Small Hours fly away so quicly. Oh, the Queen will surely put me through that torturous Dyer's Eve for this. Oh dear me, dear me, it's so late..."

"Excuse me," Hames walked up to the rabbit and asked in his most civilized voice, " What exactly are you talking about?"

The Rabbit seemed to have not heard him. It went on lameting, "Oh, I'd rather die than be put through that. For every moment of being in that, To Live is to Die." Suddenly it looked up and noticed Lars and Hames. "Huh, who are you two? You come here looking like Phantom Lords and stand around doing nothing? Any more time spent wastefully here and the Queen will decide you are just Disposable Heroes and have you executed!"

Hames was ammused, "Hero? WOW! Look Lars, we've been here for a single insane hour and we're already the Hero of the Day." Turning to the rabbit, he said, "But tell us, who's this Queen you keep referring to? She seems to be the Master of Puppets around here."

"Why, she's the mother of The Prince, of course." The Rabbit replied nonchalantly.

"Which Prince?" asked Lars.

"Prince Charming, isn't it obvious? And the wife of The King, King Nothing. Oh, she has a terrible Attitude. She's the one who presides over all trials, and in her book, Justice for All means beheading everyone!" Looking at its watch, The Rabbit gave a little shriek, "Yikes! I'd better Blitzkrieg there now, or else the Queen will Seek and Destroy me."

"Hey, wait... wait", Lars called out but the Rabbit was already scurrying away.

"Poor guy, he'll surely be made to Jump in the Fire. He's way beyond being late, he's Over-Late!" Lars and Hames turned to see who was talking and found the cat again, grinning from ear to ear.

"He'll get killed for being late?" Lars asked incredulously.

"No no, killed for being late, Overkilled for being Over-late!" The Cat said with all the finality of the one passing the judgement, "It's Sad But True", it concluded.

"And what makes you Holier Than Thou, that you go around passing judgement on others?"

"I am good, that's what. Good and perfect. Am I Evil? No, i'm not... so I do as I please." And saying so, it started disappearing again.

"Wait, wait... how do you do that? And where do we go now?" Hames asked.

"It's Electric," the cat said, pointing to a small button on its underside, "I push this button here and I can Fade to Black, disappear into the background. You two, just go straight down this path and turn into the first left." And giving those vague directions, it completely disappeared.

Lars and Hames followed the Cat's directions and came upon a house where a March Hare and a Mad Hammet were sitting and drinking tea.

"Whose house is this?" Hames asked, now pretty much convinced that everything in that place could talk.

"This is The House that Jack Built", replied the hare.

"No actually, it's HIS house," interrupted The Hammet, pointing to the March Hare, "What day is it?", he continued in the same breath.

"Tuesday", replied Lars.

"Tuesday's Gone! Today's Wednesday!" said the Hare triumphantly.

"What crap? You people need a Crash Course in Brain Surgery." Hames exploded.

"No no, it's YOU who need that. My Memory Remains as good as ever. It's Wednesday today and what's more, it's tea time!" said The Hammet. They heard a sound of bells in the distance. The Hammet continued, "Listen, it's us For Whom The Bell Tolls. So sit down, both of you."

"Yes, yes tea. And you, Motorbreath", said the Hare, pointing to Lars, "stay away from me, your breath stinks!"

"Why you little..." Lars got up boiling with anger, but Hames held him back. Then he calmed down and said, "No use Wasting my Hate on you, you little pipsqueak." He sat down glaring angrily at The Hare.

"So where's the tea?" Hames asked.

"Why right here, in front of you... But I guess being able to see the tea depends on the Eye of The Beholder", The Hammet explained.

"They have NoTeoPia, they need to get it Cured", shrieked the Hare.

"Yes, yes, you need to do the Devil's Dance", The Hammet concurred.

"What in the name of The God that Failed is that?" asked a thoroughly confused Lars.

But before he could get an explanation, Four Horsemen rode up to them and announced, "Hear ye, Hear ye! All are required to gather at the courthouse, for the trial of The Rabbit..."

(To be concluded)

(Met)a(l)lice in Wonderland

I've tried to stick to Alice in Wonderland's storyline... (Yeah, right!)


One day, a not-so-long time ago, a boy called Hames Jetfield was feeling very bored. His friend Lars had promised to meet him at his house so that they could go out together, but The Wait was getting to him. He decided that Lars had ditched him and thought to himself, He Ain't My Bitch anymore. Strangely, he felt No Remorse at this decision. Just then Lars turned up, panting for breath, "Sorry, hangover from yest night. I finished off...", he hesitated and continued, "I finished off all the Whiskey in the Jar." He grinned sheepishly.

But Hames wasn't convinced. Shaking his head, he said, "But this is the last straw. In fact, this is The Shortest Straw. For this mistake of keeping me waiting, you shall remain Unforgiven."

Lars replied, "Oh come on, after all, I'm also Human. Besides, you will be Unforgiven Too for letting our dog Escape last week."

Hames calmed down a bit, "Oh, you mean Breadfan? I couldn't help that. I had gone out to get Fuel for the car and when I got back, he had run out and got himself killed. So What? We've got Ronnie, the retriever now, right?"

"But fact is, our old dog will remain Stone Dead Forever now." Lars was adamant.

"Fine, I agree. I'm no Better Than You in such matters. Now, do you promise to come with me Wherever I may Roam?"

"Of course, am I not your Friend of Misery?"

So they set off in their Battery-operated car, the Orion. They soon reached the river flowing near Hames' house and stopped beside a small tree. Hames pointed to a hollow in the tree and told Lars, "I was Killing Time the other day when I found this hollw. If I Disappear into it, just follow me, Ok?" Lars nodded his assent.

Hames gingerly stepped into the hole and felt himself Slither down the tree very fast indeed. Seeing that Hames had indeed disappeared down the hollow, Lars followed him down the tree. He landed with a bump on a hard floor and saw that everything around him had Blackened. "Hey, somebody Hit the Lights", he yelled. As if in answer, the sun began to shine so brightly that Lars had to shield his eyes. "Hames?" Lars called out.

"Down here, Trapped Under Ice." said a far-away voice.

"Ice?" Lars asked incredulously, seeing the sun shining so brightly. But sure enough, over to his left, he saw a lake covered by ice. "How did you get under without breaking the ice?" Lars called out.

"Just come and get me out of this Thing That Should Not Be, will ya?"

Lars reached towards the ice and his hand went through as if it were water! His hand searched for the Helpless Hames, who was undergoing his own Stuggle Within. Lars found Hames' outstretched hand and pulled him out. "Poor Twisted Me", Hames said, shaking himself dry, "Thank my Mercyful Fate that I got out of that alive!"

"It's a special type of gate", they heard a voice from behind. Lars and Hames turned to find a large cat with a huge grin pasted across its face. "Just say Sabra Cadabra and it'll open to let things through." it explained.

"But I didn't say those words!" Hames protested.

"Exactly", the cat replied, grinning wider than ever.

"What...Who are you?" Lars asked, unsure of how to address a talking cat.

"I'm a Cheshire cat and I have to watch over that mouse", it said, pointing to a sleeping mouse, "Until it Sleeps".

"But it's already asleep!" Hames protested again.

"Exactly", the cat said, grinning triumphantly.

Shaking his head, Lars pointed to a huge forest and asked the cat, "And what's over there?"

"That's Where the Wild Things Are, you go the opposite way."

"Go where?"

"Away from that, to where the No Leaf Clovers grow."

Lars turned to Hames and said, "The More I See and hear about this place, the more convinced i am that it is absolutely Stone Cold Crazy."

"I know! I'm beginning to feel like we belong in a Sanitarium!"

Nevertheless, unable to bear the sight of the grinning cat, the two set off in the direction away from the forest...

(To be Contd.)

Zen and... Part II

Ok, I'm really sorry... there WAS supposed to be NO sequel to the previous post, WHICH itself was not supposed to be there! It's just that I am working on this "Project" and it's been dragging on and on, what with Shaastra and all (I practically spend ALL my waking moments on the comp... and on one day, the sleeping ones as well!). So these are just filler posts.

But actually, I DO want to tell this... Anirudh obviously won't be impressed, but it was MY first time and it was exhilarating. I took my car out on the ECR, East Coast Road for the uninitiated. This road with straight stretches, not many potholes or bumps and comparitively less traffic (again, for the uninitiated).

I simply love straight shoots. For what is a car worth if you can't shift into the highest gear 10 seconds after you've got moving and then floor the accelerator? This is what the ECR allows you to do. First, Second, Third gears vanish in a blur and you're into Fourth with the Engine purring contentedly as it saddles up for a flat-out run. And I must say, I got as near flat out as I could hope for in an urban environment.

Basically, (Basically, every sentence begins with a Basically) I found out one more thing about my car under these "test" conditions. I saw that I distinctly missed the fifth gear, or Overdrive as it is called. To say that my car was struggling at the speed I just managed to reach would be an understatement. I guess I couldn't have pushed further even if I had wanted to.

So how much DID I reach? This is where the anti-climax takes place. I just managed to raise my bar ever so slightly... Yep, Car Land Speed Record is now at 85kmph.

I guess you are all thinking that maybe I should delete this post...

Maybe I should...

Zen and the Art of Driving.

I was just wondering about what to write when my brain, which looks for Anagrams in every single word, went a step further and looked for anagrams in this title itself. The actual title is what it means... an exposition on the not-so-common skill of driving, especially among Chennaiites. But it also anagrams to (or nearly), A Driving of the Zen Art, which would become an exposition on the wonderful art of Zen and the control and composure and skill and mastery that Zen brings to one's life. OR, it could anagram to The Art of Driving a Zen... which would be a subset of the original title, except that it would be limited to driving only this particular make of car called the Zen, made by Maruti Udyog Limited. OR, it could anagram to Of Driving a Zen the Art, which would be total rubbish and indicate that I better get on with the topic...

The Driving itself:
Now you may wonder why me, an average human being who's driven only three powered vehicles all his life, bestowed upon himself the right to lecture others about such an expert thing called driving... I'll tell you why, 'COS I CAN!!! This is MY blog and no one can stop me from doing it, Ha ha ha ha ha ha (evil laugh).

A non-geared two-wheeler is no big deal. The only two things you have to know ABSOLUTELY accurately are it's weight and braking ability. The weight helps you to determine how much you can bend over doing turns and the braking ability obviously determines how long you get between stopping and a meeting with Yama. As you drive more and more, these two things will integrate themselves seamlessly into your driving, that at times you can just stare straight ahead, think of what's cooking at home, and brake exactly at the signal or pick the perfect line at a corner... but mind you, THAT takes a lot of time, till then CONCENTRATE on the road...

A geared two-wheeler is simply a joy to ride. The click of the gears falling into place, the low rumble as the engine revs try to match the gear ratios and the oh-so-smooth ride in the highest gear... ah, after a Kinetic... a bike, ANY bike, is such a wonderful machine. In a bike too, the same two parameters hold, and you'll probably be able to brake later, what with the disk brakes and all. However, the thing to perfect here is the gear-shift- hold the clutch, shift the gear, hear it click in and THEN let go off the clutch...took me quite some time, as i also had to remember which gear to which gear I was shifting. But once you do, it's the most natural thing in the world: Clutch-gear-accelerate...

A car... a car, a car, a car. After the above two, THIS defines power... Don't let go off the clutch in first or the engine will die on you. Get past first and second quickly, caress the vehicle in third to get it warmed up, then get it into fourth and hear the engine... or rather NOT hear it, work at it's highest rev. Again, practice holds the key. The more miles you get under your belt, the better you get at getting off the line in first, the faster and more appropriate your gear-shifts (I've seen people do 20 kmph in fourth!!!, Please...) and the smoother the ride. As time goes by, the car and you feel so close that at points, man and machine integrate into one and it's just like one mind and two bodies interwined in a beautiful expression of power and grace...

The Records:
Well, I'll start with the Kinetic. Thought there are not much empty spaces and Long, empty roads in our Singara Chennai, I've managed to push the needle JUST past that mark of 70k. I mean, there's no MARKING per se between 70 and 80, so let's put it at 72.

Of the two geared bikes I've driven, I've pushed my friend's Victor to 75k... ONE DAY after he bought it... After the exhilirating ride, (he was behind me) we stop at a signal and gently leans over and says "Maccha, you're not supposed to go above 50 for the first 5000 kms... but what the heck! THAT was great!". The other one, a Yamaha, has been at around the same level, 75k I guess.

The CAR is a bigger machine. I gotta be more careful with it, as it is costlier too. So you all thinking I went slower on that right??? WRONG! See, I just had this OPEN, EMPTY road ahead of me one day, I was already in fourth, and that's when i set this record... not much to speak of, but in a city road, I think 80kmph is impressive...

So... that's about that. Dunno why I wrote all this, just felt I had to... mebbe I'll become an auto-journalist one day.

Sacrilege!

The title has absolutely no bearing with what is going to follow in this article. It was just the first thought that popped into my head when I saw that my last post was more than a month back. And to make matters worse, in the whole intervening period, I’ve had FREE Internet!!! Of course, THAT itself could be the reason for the lack of activity on the Blog. I mean, handing over free Net to a teenager is like letting a kid loose in Disneyland...

Actually, I’ve been planning to write this from Independence Day... I’m a fortnight late! Anyway, I got all patriotic and everything and my heart welled with pride on Independence Day to see what great progress our country has made. 58 years of Independence, a 100-crore population, 33 lakh square kms of land area with more than half dedicated to agriculture, ten perennial rivers, one and a half lakh industries...(sounds familiar??? No prizes for guessing the movie;))

And yet...

It’s the small things, which affect our daily life, which play a role in our everyday actions that still remain pathetic. Of course, I could worry about our 8.8% unemployment rate or our imports exceeding the exports by a few thousand billion dollars. But to say the truth, none of those directly affects my life in any way and there’s nothing much I can do about any of them. What DOES make me feel sorry for the state of our country is...

Note: These incidents are not necessarily in chronological order.

The other day, a friend of mine had this electrical problem in his room. The capacitor in the fan had burnt off and now the fan was rotating in the opposite direction when switched on! The burnt capacitor was also giving off alarming smells at levels of calling in the fire brigade. That apart, the monitor was flickering dangerously and basically the wiring system in the room was gone, finished, kaput… So he calls in the electrician, who promises to come at 2 o’clock. 2 o’clock comes and goes, so do 3, 4 and 5 o’clock. He finally arrives punctually at 5:30 and promptly gets himself shocked by touching some unearthed wire. Nothing happens of course, but only then does he realize he has some SERIOUS work on his hands. So, three hours of delay and a “shocking” experience later, my friend has a working electric supply.

This could be a city-specific problem, but it’s a problem nevertheless. For the Autos in Chennai, the concept of meters simply doesn’t exist. It is just an appendage, and they get fancier too, like electronic ones. But step up to an auto and he says “80 rupees”. That’s all, no arguments. Of course, you can reel off all the info about mileages and petrol rates that you have judiciously calculated for your own vehicle, and you’ll be met with a frown or a very disdainful reply. After all, don’t they know best??? Oh, and from the same place that you paid 80 bucks to get to, the return could cost you 90! Why? “Sir, one of the roads is a one way, I have to detour.” Yeah right, like I don’t know that the detour is barely a km extra and surely not worth 10 bucks...

This is a good one. The above-mentioned “own vehicle” is a Kinetic Honda. I had lost the key for this vehicle and as my luck would have it, no duplicate was available. So I had to give it to the service center to change the lock set. He promised to have it ready in two days. The promised day, I got a bit delayed and had to feverishly use some three modes of transport, including a borrowed cycle, to get to the garage in time. There was my vehicle, with a gleaming new lock as promised and its set of keys. I happily take the keys, impressed with the service center, and out of sheer habit, try to lock the vehicle. Wait a minute, the key isn’t turning! Push it in and turn, the mechanic says. OH yeah, like I don’t know THAT. He valiantly steps up to help and makes all sorts of faces in an effort to lock it. It doesn’t happen. With a sheepish grin, he asks me to wait and I spend the next hour sweating in an automobile garage waiting for a vehicle that was promised to be delivered to me when I came...

It was raining in Chennai! Sheets of white water were pouring down on the road and grass and mud and whatever else make up the contours of Chennai. And needless to say, the roads soon became a soggy mess, there was enough water in the middle of the playground to conduct the Olympic swimming trials, and a sewage pipe had burst somewhere and so the stagnant water was not exactly from the heavens any more. All these could be common civic problems that can never be solved to perfection. But here’s the killer. After a walk through this mess, I had mud and water splattered all over me and so I go into the bathroom for a wash. I open the pipe, and I get... Air!!! Hello, wasn’t someone talking about rainwater harvesting??? There has just been a mini deluge and the water pipe still thinks it’s an air pump. I mean, this is where you reach heights of irony...

I could go on- the yellow water called Rasam in the mess (seriously, if they use normal Chennai water, it’ll have enough salt in it to give it SOME taste... but they very hygienically use mineral water!), the loss of a cycle that I had barely had for 8 hours, apparently unfair cricket-team selections, roads dug up at arbitrary places for NO apparent reason, so on and so forth. It’s just that these small things put me off at times, get the adrenalin rushing. I’m a peace-loving man, believing that anything can be solved with a smile and a kind word. But sometimes it is so hopeless, just so irritating and you get all worked up and you just wish that you could... you could...

Anniyan Avadharithuvittaan.

Impulse

Impulse is actually quite a significant, if unnoticed, term in the realms of dynamics. Mostly used in Rocketry and other such things way beyond the comprehension of the average man, it is defined as the product of Average Force and the Time… or is it the quotient??? GAWD, I am forgetting everything I learnt… KNEW college was a bad idea!

But then, this is MY page and so I WILL NOT talk about such unholy things such as Physics and Mechanics and other such stuff that, the society has decided, are very important for an Engineer to know. So what IS the impulse that I have given as a heading so grandly at the top of the page… yeah, I meant that totally indefinable characteristic of humans which makes them do weird stuff at weird times, some things which their logical mind would have dismissed as outright crazy.

From my observations of the above defined indefinable property, the conclusions are that an impulsive action is one which you do by listening to your heart and not your mind. Yeah, THAT makes a lot of sense, I know. But that’s all it is… really.

In a normal scheme of things, the heart DOES have the first say in everything we do. But, it’s the mind, the logical, scheming, rationalizing, devilish part of us, which has the second, third and so on till the FINAL say. So the body does what the brain commands it to and we all remain holier-than-thou, doing the thing that…well, SHOULD be done, as defined by practice or law or society or whatever.

The impulsive act, however, does not allow time for the mind to think. The heart says, and wham, it’s done! Everyone would have done it at some point in their life. Just doing something for the heck of it…. Like, I wanna do it and so WILL do it. The other day, it was raining like there was no tomorrow and I had just finished watching FRIENDS. So, jobless as I am, I sat by the window and watched the rain pelting down on the asphalt. And then suddenly, I just got up, walked out of my house, walked through the rain till the gate of my apartments and walked back in. More than enough! I was drenched to the skin, my hair was a wet mess and my clothes were stuck to me like I was born with them or something, like Karna. Did all that matter? NO! I had just done what I had wanted to do, and I felt very pleased with myself.

There are many other things which I have done on an impulse, totally shutting out the voices in my head screaming “What are you doing?” and “DON’T!!!!!!!!!” So far I’ve not had to regret any of them. Of course, none of them have been earth-shaking events which decided the future of this planet. But still, so far, my mind has not had the opportunity to tell me “Ha, I told you!” And even if there came such an occasion, where an impulsive action could have been avoided in favour of the logical, rational one, well, I don’t think I would care. For I would be secure in the thought that for that one moment at least, I had set aside all the complicated thought processes rushing through my head, and simply followed my heart…

Let’s Go Roger!

There are probably a million versions of the 2005 Wimbledon Men’s Final going around but I feel compelled to write my own version of it. And I’m sure I’m not going to add anything new to what has already been said about Federer… I mean there are only so many words in the English vocabulary to variously describe greatness.

Anyone who expected Federer to step up to the occasion was totally vindicated. The same however cannot be said of those who expected Roddick to do the same. From the time they started hitting practice balls across the net, Roddick appeared to be in a daze. Whether it was the enormity of the occasion or of the man facing him across the net, one will never know. But his face was so completely blank and he looked all at sea even before the match had begun.

Sure enough, the first set was all about Federer showing the world how beautiful tennis can be made to look. When you watch Federer, you don’t feel like describing what he’s doing as playing. Playing is an action of exertion, of trying to beat the opponent, of physical and mental strength. With Federer, it’s none of these. He waltzes around the court, paints his strokes with the racquet as his paintbrush and the opponent is merely an appendage… a stone wall to return the ball so that he can conjure up better magic.

There were moments in the first set which left you scrambling for words to describe what happened. There was this point where Roddick played the perfect serve-and-volley… almost. He served strong and wide and Federer had to stretch for a backhand return. The ball rose high and Roddick was ready at the net to smash it right down the center. He did. Winner, right? Wrong. Federer was waiting at the exact place the ball arrived, and smashed a forehand right across a Roddick stranded at the net and wondering what more he could do. At another point, the men were exchanging forehands when Roddick created a beautiful angle to force Federer out of the court. Even if he returned it, Roddick would be ready at the net to drop it into any part of the open court. Probably Federer sensed this, or it just came naturally to him. On the stretch, he unleashed a forehand topspin of such an impossible angle that it just about missed the player’s chairs. This from the baseline!

By the time the first set was over in a flurry of winners, the crowd thought they were headed for a massacre. But just to add a twist to the Federer orchestra, Roddick broke Federer in the third game of the second set. The crowd perked up in anticipation of a real match to start. But the ray of light did not widen into bright sunshine. As clouds gathered over center court to blot out the sun, Federer snuffed out Roddick’s break with one of his own and took the set into a tiebreaker.

The tiebreaker was all about how impossible shots are actually possible, how a backhand down-the-line is the easiest shot in the book and how Roddick’s will was finally broken. By the time the second set was handed to Federer, his winners-unforced errors count stood at an inhuman 30-3. Roddick’s in comparison was a pathetic 17-12.

The third set was a mere formality. Roddick had already given up though, it has to be said, he tried. He really did. His Rocket serve wasn’t exactly doing its job, or so it seemed, as Federer returned them with nonchalant ease. His forehand too was being matched shot for shot by the champion. And his forays to the net were dismissed disdainfully with a spellbinding down-the line or an oh-so-perfect backhand crosscourt. Still, against any other person, what Roddick did would have been enough. It was just that he ran up against a man who, by his own admission, was playing “the game of my life”. Federer in normal form is bad enough. Federer in “the game of my life” form was hopeless. It was like he had center court mapped in his forehead and had assigned coordinates to every point on court. Then the ball was a mere programmed missile, racing towards the exact coordinates that the computer in the man’s head ordered. He just couldn’t put a foot wrong, play a wrong shot or make an unforced error. He just couldn’t.

The beauty of Federer’s game is that he reads the opponent so early and chooses his arsenal accordingly. In the quarterfinals, he realized he couldn’t match Gonzales’ power baseline hitting, though he has the best baseline shots in the game. So he was content to soak up everything the Chilean threw at him, slicing back his monster forehands and thus giving himself time to get ready for the next shot. The Chilean invariably made an error, forced or unforced and Federer was there to take advantage. In the finals, he realized he could match Roddick shot for shot and go one better. So he just stepped up and pummeled Roddick into submission. At points, it was almost as if he was saying “You can do that? So can I, and better.” In the second set, Roddick hit a forehand down-the-line to Federer’s backhand and moved up to the net to cover the down-the-line return. The Federer return came, it was a down-the-line and Roddick couldn’t touch it. The ball simply curved around him and landed beautifully inside the court. It was around that point that Roddick, once and for all, accepted reality.

If he could do this to the number two seed… this must be the sinking feeling in every tennis player’s heart. I can see only the mercurial Safin, on his day AND Federer’s bad day, step up and beat Federer on grass. Hewitt simply doesn’t have the game and Roddick seems to be in want of loads of confidence boosters. And the other question of course on everyone’s mind- How many more? He’s just 23, and assuming he wins every Wimbledon till he’s 30; he stacks up a mammoth TEN titles. What a thought- simultaneously scary and awe-inspiring, just like the man himself…

Under Pressure

MEME-TAGGED BY MANASI.

The title's got nothing to do with the song of the same name by Queen. The appropriate people will understand appropriately what I appropriately meant and convey their approbations later for it.

So here goes...

Disclaimer: Throughout this "meme"ing, I assume that books such as "Introduction to Electrodynamics" and its ilk don't count... I also assume that the below information can be totally untrue and be products of my fertile imaganation, atleast in parts...


TOTAL NUMBER OF BOOKS I OWN:

Pitiful. It all comes with packing up and moving to seven different places by your eighth standard. So, everytime you pack, you're obliged to sacrifice some to the old-paper dude.(Of course, it's economically pretty satisfying...) So, now that the reason's been given... last time I counted... 216!!!


LAST BOOK I BOUGHT:

Umm... lemme see...umm...ho... Aah... OH GAWD!!!!! I can't remember the last time I BOUGHT a bloody book. Rummaging through my extensive inventory... NOPE, none of them were BOUGHT, not in the recent past... Ok, make it Last Book I GOT... after similiar number of Aahhs and Umms... Sons of Fortune by Archer, I guess.


LAST BOOK I READ:

The Negotiator- Frederick Forsyth. For the second time, actually. And that too for getting some necessary background on a project of mine. Currently going through The Greek Myths... searching for a name for my alter-ego, now that Anniyan's been taken!!!!


FIVE BOOKS THAT MEAN A LOT TO ME:

Five??? You sure you want five??? I don't even remember the plot of five books that I read, ANY five... so I just have to make do with the five books that spring to my mind.....In Descending order, as in 5-4-3...

Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde... What a perfect storyline, very beautiful explanations for the unexplainable. And the stuff about man being not one... but two... and very possibly many more, As a 12-year old, it left me very impressed.

Gladiator!!! Oops...movie ;)

Airport- Aurthur Hailey. Again, a story which defines the word "build-up". When you're building up towards something big, you tend to sag somewhere in between, lose the plot or do some such silly thing. No such problems in this one. All coherently and seamlessly stitched up to the finale.

Mahabaratha. HAS to be. Have read "n" number of versions, including comic book ones. Yudishtra's Question-Answer section with the Yaksha by the lake and Abhimanyu's piercing through the Chakravyuh... moments to remember...

Mater of the Game- Sidney Sheldon. This was when i'd just graduated form Alistair Maclean and Perry Mason. So, this was my first "big-league" book, and though there may have been countless others same as or better than this, it remains etched in memory.

FIVE POINT SOMEONE- OK, I can't stop talking about this book so DON'T get me started off. Oh god, what a book!!! I mean, you've got to go through it to appreciate the feelings in the book. The pain, the fear, the hopelessness, the everything......... If I were to write an autobiography, my college section will just replicate this book.


MY ALL TIME FAVOURITE CHARACTERS:

Mr.Hyde- "for Hyde alone was pure evil."

Portia of Merchant of Venice... good legal loophole discovered.(even if it was ACTUALLY done by Shakespeare)

All those heroes in the Maclean novels. Silent, brooding, bloody brilliant.

There was this Russian agent in The Matarese Circle by Robert Ludlum. Don't remember his name... he sets himself on fire and runs through the villains' stronghold so that this American agent fellow can escape...with his girl! Such Chivalry!


A BOOK THAT DIDN'T MEAN SQUAT TO ME:

Most of them don't... They're all for entertainment aren't they? So what is this about books "meaning" stuff. Of course, there is this book that holds the dubious distinction of being the ONLY one which I started but couldn't bring myself to finish. The Bourne Legacy... A BLOODY poor continuation of the outstanding Bourne trilogy. GAWD! That book pained me.


So......THAT took a lot of time! Whew, I'm NOT blogging for a while now.

To Blog or not to Blog

To say that the title is the umpteenth time that the much-maligned Shakespearean line of indecision has been twisted would be an understatement. If Hamlet were alive and had royalty on the line, he would probably be closing in on Bill Gates’ title of the richest man or something. Or maybe, if he had been Spanish, he would have uttered something like 'Estar o no estar'. Or again, if he had been Dutch and if the question troubling him involved the E.U constitution, he would have uttered a vehement Not To Be, along with 4 million other Dutchmen. (Disclaimer: I have no idea what the Dutch population is or how many of them voted against the E.U constitution. The Random Number generator in my head picked 4 million, and so 4 million it is.)

By now, I should make clear that I’m not doing a thesis on what Hamlet should or shouldn’t have said. This is not even an essay on whether the Dutch should have thrown out the E.U constitution or not. And it’s certainly not a piece where I’m showcasing my newfound mastery of the Spanish language (which is considerable, but I’ll do that some other time). Unlike our Superstar’s Chandramukhi, which went through 2 hours of meaningless songs and clichéd dialogues before finally making you sit up and take note of Jyothika’s acting, I shall get directly to the point.

Point being- What does a person do, when he has such a thing called summer vacation, apart from eating, sleeping, waking up, watching T.V, eating and watching T.V, switching off the T.V, switching on the computer, going through the entire library of songs, eating, sleeping, waking up... (If this were a computer language, here is where I would close the iteration loop.)

Seriously... You’re already acquainted well enough with all the VJs on every music channel from MTV through Channel V to Sun Music. And you’ve already seen the episode on Discovery where they build the Eurofighter jet. And you can be sure you know every shot off every ball in Dravid’s 233 in the Adelaide test, having watched it in the name of Cricket Gold or Super Doubles or Team India programming or some such innovative name for a highlights package. And you can’t bear to sit through the torture that they showcase in the form of English movies being dubbed into Tamil (unless, of course, its Titanic... proud to say I watched it the day before my Physics boards.) Oh, and almost forgot the one that beats ‘em all… Formula One commentary in Tamil!!! “Ippo, ivar arumayaga ‘car’ai vaegamaga ottikkondirukkiraar”. Yeah right, genius, the drivers are paid 7-figure salaries to trundle around the track as if they were in a Maruti 800.

And then there is this highly crippling disadvantage of a dial-up connection. If you ever want to feel frustrated with life to the point of crying, I’d recommend downloading a song with dial-up at around 6 P.M. Speeds of 1.5 kbps have been known to send the most stable person into bouts of insanity. So you give-up on that and turn to the songs you already have on your comp, courtesy of an extended source-pool of friends, friends’ friends, friends’ friends’ friends...y’know. But again, how many times can you go through the same Maiden-Metallica, Pink Floyd, Nirvana... and end up at Eminem! And you listen to him trash his parents so much that you wonder why they gave birth to him at all. I mean, surely it was some kind of mistake, y’know maybe... (Here’s where I stop on this particular line of thought... I want to maintain a “family viewing” rating on this Blog.)

So...you tell me. WHAT does one do??? And I’ve got to go now ‘cos all this has put my schedule slightly off track. Gotta go sleep. And wake up in time for the evening snack. And then of course, the evening movie on T.V. And dinner. And…

The road to nowhere...

It is an amazing feeling...to feel well and truly LOST. But before I tell you why I'm lost now, I must tell you I've not always been that way. I actually had a destination...once...

It was an year ago, almost exactly to that date. THEN, my road had a destination. A very real, specific one- something you could see, touch, feel, hear and dream about. Sure there were hurdles in the way, seemingly insurmountable ones at that. But ask Fernando Alonso, once the finish line is in sight, pretty much anything's possible- even defending from a seven-time world champion bearing down on you on his home turf. That slight deviation aside, I was well within striking distance of my finish line then and so, call it motivation, perseverance, hardwork or sheer luck, I reached it...The finish line.

And as I stopped and panted for breath, expecting to be converged by people congratulating and wishing me... I saw to my dismay, that it wasn't the Finish line at all. More like the "one mile to go" line you see in those Tour de France races. And then I saw that the road did stretch out from there...all the way to infinity and beyond. So I ran again...

But one year into the running, I'm beginning to have doubts. I started on the assumption that this run too, like my previous one, would defenitely lead to a destination. But now I see that the road is not single anymore. It branches out- once, twice, thrice... And that is when I suddenly felt fear.

For I'm now not sure why I'm running anymore...rather, I'm not sure I'm running at all. I just seem to be drifting along, carried by the mass of runners same as me but who seem to know where they're headed. So I allow myself to be swept along, to wait and watch, to see if there's any such thing as destination visible in the distance. I waited...

I'm still waiting...