Parallel Universe

Credits: Prabhav 'N2' Kashyap, who has clearly put a lot of thought into this, and even more clearly, feels quite strongly about it.

After 5 years at the Indian Institute of Technology-Madras, and two years before it preparing for the JEE, one has to enter the realm of what if and explore how the world would have turned out differently if certain key decisions had been taken differently at key junctures in one's life. The exploration of this parallel universe is necessitated even more by the realization that the 7 years past have done nothing to improve the quality of the 70 years which will follow, nor of the 7 itself which have passed by. Imagine all the Jews turning to Moses and going 'Dude, what promised land?'. Then multiply it a thousand times, throw in the feeling of United doing this to me, add the feeling of the 100s of Millions in our poor country who went and followed hockey just because Priyanka Chopra told them to, and you're still not close to what I'm feeling right now.

Speaking of, and as an aside, anyone notice the distinct correlation between good hockey teams and good football teams in this world cup? They guys who get regularly thrashed are us, Pakistan, South Africa, Canada and New Zealand. Everyone else in this World Cup have had a football team which has reached at least a quarterfinals of the corresponding World Cup in some edition. Maybe not Australia, but those buggers play anything anyway. I mean, our poor boys simply do not have the concept of an off-the-ball run. Or a 'tactical change'. The whole team is built around one trick, and it's called Sandeep Singh. But, we beat Pakistan, and in this country that's all that counts. This is way more blog space to devote to hockey than is required anyway.

On the other hand, imagine if us IITians had foregone that route and gone and done something like Economics at a reputed humanities college. Stephen's was the example used by the proposer of the theory, and Stephens it shall be, that we go with. That would have immediately saved the pre-college 2 years of JEE preparation, and one would have been more in tune with such important things in life as the best movie of the year or the coziest Coffee Day to go to with a girlfriend. In fact, one would have had a girlfriend to make all this happen. Even if not, there is no way three years in Stephen's can pass by barren unless you're a douche of the nth order with as much natural charm as a flea in the back pocket of Quasimodo. And even if you were that character, by the sheer law of averages, you have at least visually encountered more members of the female species than your current life path which takes you from a guy-infested school to guy-infested JEE class to IIT (which needs no adjectives) to similarly-guy-infested engineering jobs where you meet people who already know all your classmates from each of the above three institutions. Cos we're like that, us engineering types.

Just to show this is not a sexually-driven rant, I shall further back up my theory with other empirical and statistical evidence. Such an economics course would have ended in 3 years, making one pass out at a good enough time in history where Lehmann has still not gone "What the" and the rest of the world has still not gone "What the f*******k". Two more years of cash-earning, work-experience-adding, still-maintaining-contacts-from-Stephen's life right there. And the rest of the chaps in your life will not be all talking the same language of client calls, chargeable hours, cost efficiencies and "onsite" visits. Then of course, the whole world would have gone belly up, but at least you had two years to work towards it. And got some along the way.

By this point in one's career, one's educational pedigree has mostly been ignored anyway, so it doesn't matter where you passed out from as a fresh, eager, young graduate, full of hope and excitement about the world ahead and waiting to make one's own mark in it. 2 years down, there remains nothing but a shell of all this, so how does it matter what existed within that shell two years before. We're at one place now, we would've been at the same place two years earlier, and probably with the whole world in general a bit more cheerful too. Spreading the joy and the likes.

MLIA. A lot more sensible acronym than over-hyped crap like MNIK, with a 45 year-old trying to play the sequel to Taare Zameen Par. MLIA, which I didn't know either, apparently stands for My Life Is Average. How true. Sudden strong moment of empathy with Kevin Spacey from American Beauty. It was like Achilles said, or rather asked. About history remembering him after the Trojan War. But I think it's more like how good friend Gilmour said - Would you exchange, a walk on part in the war, for the lead role in a cage.

For what we do in life, echoes in eternity.

F.Art

Have I already put this one up before? Just thought the blog could do with a revival. So. Revive, oh blog!

Kevin was distraught. The culmination of all his years as a student of Fine Arts was this one piece. It combined the latest in contemporary art with the incredible world of science. It was a clash of colour and monochrome, of order and entropy, of geometry and art, of science and religion. It was a representation of the miniature world of incomprehensible particles found within an atom. And yet his professor had been completely dismissive about it. He called it ‘The Blow-Up’. His professor had called it a blow-off.

And so it happened that he was standing on the sidewalk next to his professor’s office, with his heart, soul, morale – everything except his canvas – torn to shreds. It was Saturday evening, and quite a few people had already spent the better part of the day in the bar. One such straggler walked up to Kevin. He was pretty unstable, and had yet another unfinished beer in his hand. He peered curiously, screwing his eyes up and bending forward – first at the painting, then at Kevin, and back at the painting. Kevin opened his mouth to tell him to buzz off, but the drunk beat him to it. Not to say anything though. In one convulsive twitch of his body and one retching motion, the man vomited his lunch right on to the center of The Blow-Up. After a couple of more moments doubled up, he wiped his mouth, straightened, smiled at Kevin and walked away.

Kevin stared at his canvass in horror. His mind went numb as he evaluated the artistic homicide that had just taken place. All of his quarks, mesons and neutrinos were now mixed with half-digested spaghetti and unidentifiable gravy. His thoughts were simply unable to process anything. It was a miracle that he thought he heard something at all, through the otherwise-deafening silence that filled his head. There was that voice again, going, “… that shows innovation”.

He spun around. It was his professor, on his way home. As Kevin stared back in reply, his professor continued, “Now it looks more natural, the colour scheme. Nature doesn’t operate in Technicolor you know. And the uneven texture – lovely touch.” He patted Kevin lightly on the back, “I always knew you had it in you. You just had to get it out, somehow.”

Well, I didn’t get it out, but someone else sure did, thought Kevin. “Thank You Sir”, he mumbled, still dazed by the conflicting emotions swirling through his mind, to the disappearing back of his professor.

As they say, Beauty lies in the eyes of the Beer Holder. Or rather, stomachs.

Kevin renamed his painting “The Throw-Up”.

The Umpire Strikes Back

I think it's only fair that after my last post on this comatose, nearly dead blog, I should come back to the same topic for its revival. Oh yes, this is the un-end, my only friend, the un-end. That's the kind of song The Doors would've come up with if they had ODed on Caffeine, and not the other lovely, life-giving substances that they ODed on. Now that the mandatory pop-culture referencing is done, let's get down to why this blog has been dead for so long, and why this is the most appropriate moment in all of time and space when, as Jhumpa Lahiri would've described in her 'Indian' books aimed at a western audience, all the celestial bodies aligned perfectly for the astrologer to confirm that this is the best time for Ashima, I mean, Anand to restart his blog.

If you remember, and it's perfectly understandable if you don't, my last post here was about the pros and cons of this wonderful new city that I've just moved into, in comparison with the wonderful old city that I'd just left behind. Yes, Hyderabad was my inspiration, my new mistress, my new flush of love and all that. Alas, and also, Hyderabad is now a new state capital. Or at least almost is. Caught as we are in the throes of confusion, about who the 'Gults' will be now, and whether the non-Telengana part will still be called Andhra at all, we have all completely missed the bigger picture.

For the fact of the matter is, there are much deeper and profound factors behind all these agitations for a separate state, if only we look closely enough. So why did all the people involved in this do all that they did?

1. It was a completely noble cause right from the beginning. We all know how China will soon catch up with the US, it's economy will outpace it and all such things. Not to be left behind, our protestors wanted India also to catch up with the US, and get to 50 states as soon as we could. The effects are already to be seen. However, there seems to be a lack of consensus on the matter as there is an overlap between two new proposed territories themselves. To explain it in Pineapple Express terms, that will be the product of baby-fucking.
2. It was unfair of some groups in Maharashtra to rewrite the history textbooks alone to suit their purpose. That would leave the geography textbooks feeling very unwanted indeed. Hence, this new method, to increase the number of subdivisions under the 'States and Capitals' chapter and make the NCERT Geography book as unrecognizable as its historical counterpart.
3. It will give our good friend the traffic constable a lot more papers to ask for before getting to the 'can you put seven' part. 'Do you have papers for the time till it was Andhra? Then do you have papers from when it was not? Do you have NOC for the old number plate? When'll you get the new number plate? Who's our new Chief Minister? What's our Capital now? Can you put seven?'
4. It'll increase the IPL franchisee teams massively, and that's always good for the economy right? What's good for Modi, Preity and SRK has to be good for the rest of the 1.32 Billion as well. So now we'll get Gorkhaland Gunners (sorry Arsenal boys) and Telengana Transformers (it's the only natural extension from Chargers). Which will be owned by Megan Fox. Sigh.

As in any cause-effect analysis, once you've laid out the cause in such bare terms, it is only fair that you figure out the effects of the action as well, and they are as well-intentioned, if not more.

1. It's now a fundamental right to demand your own state after 7 days on a hunger strike (strict 5-day week, 9 to 6 striking hours only). However, the constitution rewriters are still trying to figure out how to reconcile this with the Right to Food Security Act.
2. States will now be like amoeba. Wherever you move, the 100-km radius around that part will be your state. This dynamic border concept is well suited to our fast-changing, ever-shrinking, global-village, other-hyphenated-words world. Also, it takes regionalism out of the picture. You can't be very regionalistic if your region keeps changing with every migrant labourer who just walked into your state. No, his state. No, your state.
3. All those people who want to have none of this nonsense can declare themselves to be Union Territories. They'll get tax-free alcohol and people from the neighbouring states will visit them to smuggle out their tax-free alcohol. However, our old friend, the constable will be alert to this fact and will get you at the dynamic border to bury you under his statehood questions. Till you slip him 2 of the bottles, or 30% of total number of bottles. Whichever is higher.
4. People like me will get their heads thoroughly muddled like this and spontaneously combust. Which will be taken as a self-immolation protest, and I will be granted my own, spanking new state. Muhahahahahaha...

Ok yeah, that's it. Welcome back!

Namma Jekyll and Mr. Hyd

More than a month into a new city, I believe I'm qualified enough to hold forth on the merits and demerits of one with respect to the other. For those of you who have not been religiously following my Facebook updates, congrats. There's nothing going on there. But just to clarify for the reader from Glasgow who arrived here through a Google Search for my cleverly popularly-titled blog, and is still reading this, the "new city" in reference is Hyderabad, India. The old city is namma Chennai. Right, on with it then.

Hyd

1. Weather - You knew it was coming, and you wouldn't grudge it. There is no concept of sweat in this city. Which leads to various other benefits such as women retaining their makeup for longer, men not resembling Ussain Bolt and his 9.69 second-effort after a 5-minute walk and most important of all, a distinct lack of frayed nerves. I think it's pretty evident that the use of Autokaaran vocabulary is directly proportional to the amount of sweat running down your brow, arms and various other... um... parts.

2. Autokaaran - As already mentioned, their vocabulary is distinctly curtailed here. That apart, I think this is the only city with the most highly regulated auto system, at least my part of the city. Place A to Place B is 5 to 10 bucks. You will share the auto with 5 other complete strangers. If there's a lady waving the auto down, you go and sit in front with the driver (my arse woman's equality). Autos have specific routes after which they don't operate (which is admittedly a pain in some wee hours when an auto steadfastedly turns you down irrespective of the money offered). Overall, you don't have to talk to the auto guy. No 'petrol velai saaar' or 'one-way saaaar' or '150. No 70. enna saaaar' bargains.

3. Places - This is one question which I had absolutely no clue to in Chennai - 'So where all do we go in Chennai?' Um... the beach? Hyd is one of those Delhi-type places where the Mughals built and left stuff behind. And then of course Chandrababu Naidu built and left stuff behind. So you can go to Charminar, or Hussain Sagar (and Eat Street right beside) or iMax-Central-GVK etc type things. All of which in Chennai terms would be Citi Centre or... or... the other beach.

Chennai

1. Power! - No, not the DMK-holds-Congress-hostage type. Though I think that is a factor in Chennai's pretty darn amazing electricity situation. You will appreciate Neyveli and Koodangulam and those thousands of windmills between Tuticorin and Thanjavur only when you face 3 hours of compulsory load-shedding every day. Especially on Saturdays. To heck with greenhouse emissions, let's burn the lignite I say!

2. Traffic - Yes. Chennai's among the better cities in managing its road traffic. Yes, our Mama has more control over what's going on on his road than the Hyderabad Mama. Yes, our boys stop at red lights. Here, you go on Green, you go on Orange, you slow down and then speed right back up on Red. The Mama doesn't even bother with the moving vehicles. His collection for the day comes from the odd vehicle which mistakenly stops at a red signal. Which is why no one stops in the first place. See the whole vicious cycle thing? The rains don't help the roads either. If there are roads in the first place. Road eh illa tax kaekkarael indhango...

3. Foooood - You can take your iMax and Central and McDonald's and Subways and KFCs and stick it all up your collective arses. Where the heck is my Saravana Bhavan and Sangeetha and Ananda Bhavan? Bloody nonsense, these places have branches in Muscat and Timbuktoo and all, and not in Hyd? Hyd people can't make Dosa to save their lives. Though, to give credit where it's due, they can make Sambhar to save their life and your life and mine and everyone's up until 2050.

So that's the way it stands. As those famous words go- you win some, you lose some.