Rant 68: The post that wishes for ‘un-plugged’ cricket commentary

Note: Characters and events are inspired by the recent international test and one-day matches featuring India and Sri Lanka. Any resemblance to reality is purely intentional.
Noted commentator Mr. (insert name of Australian batting great): Welcome to the first test match between India and Sri Lanka in Dambulla. Good morning to our viewers across the world, and also to my co-commentator Mr. (insert name of Indian batting not-so-great-as-that-Australian-fella).
Comm2: Thank you Comm1, yes we are finally set for the match, the clouds look lovely, the pitch looks good, the cute chick in the stands looks do-able…whoops..er…and both captains look hungry for the win. Indeed, they look hungrier than I was yesterday when presented some of that lovely (name of random Sri Lankan local cuisine currently sold in the spectator stands, which the camera focuses on instead of the actual cricket). Incidentally, that dish was invented only last night by Mr. Guranamishanwardene who wanted to give his fishing company employees some proper incentive during those long hours that they spent looking for my marriage ring that was swept away to sea as I lay drunk on the beach after our long binge session.
Comm1 (clearly overwhelmed look on his face): Err..yes..that’s an interesting tale Comm2. I'm so glad you brought this up now. Meanwhile, the first five overs have been bowled with 30 runs scored. I wonder if Sehwag will score a century given his recent poor run of form….
Comm2: Oh yes, he certainly has the skills to do so. He just needs to work on his footwork a little bit, just like I need to work on my skills at pressing the keypad on the new micromaxx Q6 mobile with added features of Bluetooth, one-touch facebook, and a camera that can take dirty pictures of my wife on the can without a clicky sound. Incidentally, I used that camera yesterday when your lovely ‘escort’ came over towards….
Comm1: AHEM!!!!! Thank you for that lovely insight Comm1. Yes indeed, the new micromaxx Q6 mobile with added features of Bluetooth, one-touch facebook, and a camera that can take dirty pictures of my wife on the can, is a revolutionary piece of technology. It’s nothing like anything you know. Just last week I had a Blackberry on me, but the moment the micromaxx guys came to my house and showed me their new micromaxx Q6 mobile with added features of Bluetooth, one-touch facebook, and a camera that can take dirty pictures of my wife on the can, (not to mention showing me a suitcase with $50,000 for mentioning the product 100 times per innings) I was stumped…hehe see? I can do sports puns as well.
Comm2: Why yes you can! My congratulations to you and your lovely escort. I’m sure there were plenty of puns that you could have used to cover up those lovely noises emanating from your hotel room last night as you….oh gosh did you just see that delivery that bowled Sehwag? It was a wicked delivery from Lasith Malinga. Quite fast and pacey…as fast and pacey as the new Yamaha FZ that comes with alloy wheels, a comfortable seat and can go from zero to 60 in 9seconds, alongwith mirrors to see if any cops are chasing you or not (laughs uncontrollably at his first joke of the year). The bike comes in three pretty colours, green, orange and black. I personally prefer the black as it covers up my otherwise girly looks, giving my wife the macho man she thoroughly deserves (but rarely gets).
Comm1: Ah yes, the Yamaha FZ, that wonderful piece of machinery. I tried riding that yesterday and was quite good at it actually. Only broke my hip and my right lateral meniscus. Which is when I switched over to the Fiat Linea currently on your screens that will be given to the man of the series who could well be…err…ahhh….hmmm…oh well, I’m sure our viewers are paying more attention to the game than we are, so they can predict it anyways. Incidentally, our viewers can SMS their predictions and a lucky winner wins the new micromaxx Q6 mobile with added features of Bluetooth, one-touch facebook, and a camera that can take dirty pictures of my wife on the can. Incidentally, I get bonus pay-offs from Oxford Dictionary Inc. for plugging the word incidentally into my commentary.
As I was saying, I was driving the new Fiat Linea across the paddy fields of Colombo yesterday, and came across some lovely temples and farmers, who showed my how I could get my poppy crops to grow to considerable lengths. All in all, during those lovely drives through the picturesque hills of Sri Lanka, I figured out what the point of this whole series is…i.e. take a holiday in a beach, watch some boring cricket on dead pitches, and earn money advertising ridiculous gadgets.
Comm2: Well said Comm1. all you potential commentators out there. Watch and learn! Cos this is how it’s done.
Oh and there’s a run out and that’s the end of the Indian innings. But not the end of ours eh Comm1? Now how about some lovely (random Sri Lankan delicacy being sold on the stands)? I notice there are some fair females doing the selling. Let’s see if we can bowl some maiden-s over eh? (producer rolls his eyes for the tenth time)
Comm1: So to our viewers, it’s goodbye from us and the next part of the match will be taken care of by Mr. (insert random hack Indian batsman who only played two games but is still classed as ‘expert’ by random sports channel) and Miss. (insert random Indian female celebrity with zero cricketing knowledge but desperate for publicity).

Rant 64: Azad Hind Blogpost

Ok so my Friday nights are getting weirder by the day....BUT!!!!!!!
this is the limit
NOW,
I pride myself on the number of documentaries and movies I have seen on the second world war. Indeed, I can probably give a very informative Rant on Hitler's military moves during this period. However, among the many renditions of this futile war, there is one movie that just ticked me off.
As an Indian, I am proud of how much my earlier generation fought for the freedom but to see it condensed into THIS piece of bollywood influenced K-serial-esque DRAMA SHIT!! is just pushing it.
honestly! the movie Bose: The Forgotten Hero is perhaps the crappiest WW2 movie I have ever seen. I have only one sentence to describe it.

It is nothing less than a drama-induced Wikipedia article!


Basically, a fallen hero's life condensed into a 3 hour movie that jumps so fast, an olympic gymnast would be ashamed at the speed of it.
DO NOT WATCH IT! EVER!!!!!!!! you would do better to spend your time in a moth-infested library, researching Subash Chandra Bose's life

PS: I know I am being a tad hypocritical by linking wiki articles here but it's basically to prove my point....If you can't GET it ...then sadly you need to think harder..or maybe watch this crappy movie

Rant 63: The Road to Silence

Dear Loud Movie Goers who came for the 4:30 pm showing of Road, the Movie at Big Cinemas in Bharath Mall, Mangalore, on 7th March, and who were probably seated in Row M,
I write this because you have made me realize that even though we can try to be as non-racist, non-stereotyping and non-judgmental as humanly possible, and yet, when people like you decide to pull stunts like you did yesterday, it makes judging you all the more satisfying…and believe me, I love my sinning.
So here it goes. My friend Yashpal and I had settled in for a movie that, for my part, I had wanted to see for a long while, called Road, the Movie, starring Abhay Deol. I had enjoyed his performance in Dev D and admire his style of no-nonsense acting, in addition to the kind of films that he does. To further remind you of the kind of movie experience that you ruined for me, this movie is about…well, a road trip, which is why I was, to repeat myself, really really really looking forward to it.
However, you had other ideas…not just for me, but for 3 rows of audience who were probably too afraid of creating an unruly scene to confront you. I too was afraid of the same thing and hence am forced to bring your species into the limelight through this modus.
You took your right to free speech to a new level. You felt that every 24 frames that passed by on the screen deserved some kind of comment from you and your friends. I agree, the part where a kid – who works at a highway tea-stall – said to Abhay Deol: "Did you think this was a Starbucks?" is funny and deserves some sharing of comments in the few seconds succeeding such a jibe. However, some really touching scenes, such as Deol stopping short of consuming his entire bottle of water upon seeing the Rajasthani women walking past in a line in search of that precious liquid, did not deserve your two-cents worth. You did not care about how much you were affecting other people’s viewing experience. All you cared was that your comments should be heard by all and sundry. Your friends probably thought that your comments were making you the cool dude of the hall and thus joined in with their half-cents worth.
Why oh why did you choose to act this way??? You were not there with your girlfriend (nor were there any girls in your immediate vicinity) wherein your cheap and unsolicited comments may have elicited some giggles and thus boosted your ego. No! There was no prize up for grabs for Best-movie-reviewer-while-screening-goes-on. In short, there was absolutely no reason why your stupid stinking rice-hole blasted that cheap streaming radio for the entire length of the movie.
And do you know the worst consequence of your actions? It is the fact that based on your accent, I could tell that you and your friends are from the UP/Bihar regions of India and the kind of reputations that some from your community have garnered all these decades – of being rowdy and totally unaware of basic social etiquette – has once again been put on display. I do not know whether to congratulate you for sheer consistency or write a formal apology letter to the governments of UP and Bihar/Jharkhand for such blatant stereotyping.
What I do know, is that next time I see someone like you who doesn’t keep his comments to an appropriate decibel level, I will find the largest-sized bucket of that tasteless crap they call movie-hall pop-corn and shove its contents right down your throat!

BTW, Road, the Movie is quite a show. Open your mind completely and be prepared to suspend disbelief.

Rant 62: My Office Part 5

If you’re the head of an organization and you like the fact that your minions are doing good, productive work and you enjoy that your own superiors look upon you as a reliable manager, then I guess you would be having constant worries about your office's productivity levels. Day and night, you may be tortured by this worry, so much so that you start hating those D-Cold Total ads that claim relief from five types of pain (which now cannot even rid you of the one in your head alone).
Well, even though I may not be the graduate of a top-notch B-School, I can still give all you current and prospective managers a simple, yet effective tool of optimizing the productivity of your workforce. It’s called, Chair-Sense.
Believe it or not, a number of pointless research studies have shown that the choice of chairs in the office can either boost or hinder productivity. Let’s face it, we all love to sit for hours on a comfortable, if slightly ominous, deadline and hey, if I’m going to hatch some proverbial eggs while the whole world zooms by me, I damn well would like to do it on a nice ergonomic, fart-compatible, well-bottomed-out chair.
So here’s a rough guide to office chair selection. Remember, variety is the key to productivity:-

1) The Night Rider: With new improved aerodynamics, this sleek looking model is sure to leave you in good spirits. After all, who doesn’t benefit from a good half-an-hour snooze?!? This chair has been put through countless wind tunnel (night-shift) testings. Our experts (night-shift employees) have spent hours in near-180 degree positions so as to maximize your potential to view the office TV in a comfortable and "productive" position. Ideal for those with cravings for heavy lunches.
please note: the company is not liable for any spinal injuries resulting from sudden breakages while in near-180 degree positions. The firm does, however, intend to take full credit for the laughs that such sudden incidents generate amongst your colleagues.

2) The Brood-o-Matic 2000 (street name, the Muse Throne): All you world-weary Nestors, this is the chair for you. Designed especially for the many "devoted" hours you spend pretending to ponder with left hand fixed firmly on arm rest (scratching your chin... Yes yes, we know, solitaire is a tough game). The side arm rests have been fixed with an extra springy base to provide maximum comfort during those long endurance levels of cleaning up your chicken’s shit in Farmville; and with motorcycle-grade shock absorbers for supreme agility during heated battles in Mafia Wars. Lock and Load!!!

3) The Trumpet: Once you have imbibed the suggestions from your newspaper’s horoscope section ("you are strong, energetic, outgoing and will definitely get some action today despite your pig-like odour and drool" etc) and have filled yourself up with enough Red Bull to rival Maverick's F-16, take a ride on a model we lovingly call Jerry the mouse. The pure symphony of squeaky noises from your constant "adjustments" will leave even Pavarotti spellbound. Let the whole world know how often you roll around inside your cubicle or shift your backside just that wee bit for a quick and noiseless…well …you-know-what. Let your boss figure out how much you miss your baby crib with some good old-fashioned rocking! Remember it’s all about the music.

It’s of course difficult to list all the models here but do take the time to research all your options before choosing the right mix of chairs. Remember that each employee has different tastes and thus is suited for one particular chair. If perchance he/she feels at ease with more than one type, then congratulations, you have found a go-getter; somebody who can fit in anywhere and in any situation. You may now promote him to your post and take a long awaited vacation into the world of retirement.

Rant 61: Talking to myself..the sequel to Rant 5

So here is a sequel to the getting out of my mind phase. The only difference is the "mine" character which was originally my brain, is now me in the future......"me" is still the same old me

Mine: I shouldn't do this but I pulled you out for a moment to give you a hint.

Me: A hint???

Mine: Take wrong turns, talk to strangers, open unmarked doors. And if you see a group of people in a field, go find out what they're doing. Do things without always knowing how they'll turn out.

Me: Why tell me this?

Mine: You're curious and smart and bored and all you see is the choice between working hard and slacking off. There are so many adventures you miss because you're waiting to think of a plan. To find them, look for tiny interesting choices. And remember, that you are always making up the future as you go.

Me: So wait, what is this place? Am I going to wake up thinking this was a dream?

Mine: Think of this as after the game, outside the theatre. To go in, I had to suspend disbelief, forget the outside.

Me: So you, why are you giving me hints that I'm going to forget?

Mine: You'll forget this trip but I think the hints should stay with you.

Me: If this is a game, are you - are we cheating???

Mine: Yep.

My thanks to some very experienced friends from 2007-2009.

Rant 59: My Office part 4

Things I like about my office:-
1) The work…(love the ass covering don't you?)
2) Watching free tv and browsing free internet

3) a semi-sleeper push-back chair with roller wheels (ultra deluxe, for even bigger fans of Durgamba travels) ...which translates to: wheeeee!

4) The security lady trying her level best to run the metal detector around all who enter/leave…but thanks to my daily intake of Kellogs all nutritious corflakes (kidding of course), I am one step ahead…most of the time at least.

5) catching snoozes within the three walls of my work-station in weird angles so that the security cameras don’t catch me…

6) Upma with coconut chutney for breakfast in the office canteen.


Things I don’t really like but have to deal with anyways:-
1) ass kissers

2) frigggin’ cold-ass air conditioning

3) insane amount of wiring below the work stations, which basically means I cant stretch my legs out in all directions

4) office gossip. I’ve pretty much grown out of my high-school phase of hating people who talk behind my back. It made college a whole lot more bearable. This monster, in a different guise, is slowly rearing its ugly head!! Am trying my best to keep my own head straight.

Rant 56: The Desert Diaries P3: Taking notes

Apologies for the break in field notes updates. I was, in fact, a bit bored of giving chronological accounts of my holiday here and was taking time to observe Kuwaiti life a little more carefully. My previous three visits to this country were pretty much about the awesome food, the fast cars and the pretty women. So on this particular visit, I hope to have acquired more than details of the afore mentioned superficial aspects. Here goes. (Here are Part 1 and Part 2 of this series)

First up, since my folks are doctors and are employed by two different hospitals here, I managed to get a guided tour of one. This one is the Al Orf hospital (no it’s not Scooby Doo saying “wharf”!) where mom works. I could, of course, have also visited my dad’s employers, but that would have entailed me waking up at the unearthly hour of 6am (sigh! Holiday sleep is a bitch, what to do!). Nevertheless, I was given the full tour by mom, of what is purportedly one of the “low budget” hospitals here; low budget compared to the other hospitals I mean. Once you have a look around…

You realize, that perhaps even Apollo or Escorts will be hard-pressed to find the funds for such extravagant care. The rooms all have an ante room, complete with couches, coffee tables, LCD TVs, DVD players, you know, all the things you need when your loved one is dying from cancer. Oh and they have a bed for the patient too! Seriously though, you wouldn’t be blamed if you mistook this establishment (or any like this all over Kuwait) for a hotel instead of a hospital.

Anybody call for a Bell-Hop???

Secondly, Supermarkets. Now, I know India is developing in that area. Gone are the days when Sharma aunty’s monthly groceries were bought from either the Sunday haat or Nathu’s big store (helped by an overpowering rice+wheat smell, combined with odour from five overworked helpers). We now choose to have our already dead vegetables subjected to the autopsy of a barcode beeper (my name for it) which shoots a red laser into the critter’s ass, forcing it to reveal its price. Putting aside the fact that I adored Sunday haat sellers for being able to memorise purchase details for every single customer thronging the stall, I do believe that supermarkets here (talking about Kuwait now) are miles above our desi ones, as I believe, most “americanised” marts are. From TV sets, to washing machines, to frickin bicycles, you can pretty much buy it all! And I wanted to photograph them all. However, owing to a grumpy looking security dude standing next to the electronics section of this place, I was only able to grab snaps of two commonly placed items from this mart.

Here fishy fishy...aww poor fishy fishy!

and then there was milk....rows and rows of it!!

 Next up, the people of this fine country. Ladies first…my word! Such beauty…past compare (to quote the melodious Bianca Castafiore). I only regret that the women here choose to put on so much of make-up. I mean, it’s one thing to apply a slight blush mark, quite another to seem like you just came out of an obscure, dangerous medieval ritual where a spiked rod, full 4 inches in circumference, was poked through your cheeks, leaving you looking like Heath Ledger’s Joker after a make-over (you wanna know how I got these blushes??? …err maybe not). But all in all, yes, the women look absolutely gorgeous. I know someone at work who has completely given up on Indian women after only a year in the UK, and for once, I have to say, he may just be right. Keep up the good work ladies!!!

On the other side of the gender spectrum, the males tend to exhibit various idiosyncrasies. They all hold their mobiles in their hands as they walk, well mostly the ones with the flashy ones. I’m not going to jump to conclusions, or draw stereotypes. I’m just a spectator. Most of the dress sense here is – for want of a better word – metrosexual. No more on that. Plus, what is up with all the cheek kissing as a form of greeting. I’m going, guys get a room, seriously! A typical scene might go something like this. Five guys, each of whom manages to dress in the full rainbow colours spectrum, strutting around (mostly malls), holding PDAs in their hands (which 15 year old needs a fucking PDA I ask you???), and hair straightened. The obvious attempt is to look cool, which, in my eyes, takes a downhill direction the moment another group of guys walks up to them. And then the cheek kissing begins. Now, I’m not a homophobe or anything. But seriously, I’m ok with a guy and a girl doing that, seems polite (not to mention, two amazing arab women doing that…even more amazing!!) but this is a little too much for me. So without delving too much on that…

Of course, if you ever come across one of these,

you feel like going, GET ME OUT OF HERE! (celebrity or not mind you!!)

Enjoy the rest of the pics

The profession the country was founded upon...now a national pastime

Let’s hope this is not a national pastime as well

 

Sunset at Safat

Rant 54: Animal care trust blog

Hi all,
the Animal Care Trust (Mangalore) has its very own blog up now. I had posted about this place back in August. If you want a glimpse of what the place is like you can check out the pics here.
Although this trust is probably not your state of the art facility when compared to say the ones in metros, it has one major characteristic that sets it apart.
While most major animal centres may put to sleep those that are deemed even remotely as unfit (even something like missing a leg), the centre here in fact takes on more "unfit" animals than the latter. Its safe to say, even injured animals deserve dignity in life (to quote Dr. Gregory House: "There's no dignity in dying, you only live with it!").
However, the facility does need a fair amount of revamping in terms of sanitation etc if it is to match up to the standards set by its metro counterparts.
So a formal request to all those who want to and are able to help, to contact the people behind this cause. and just so you know, they prefer kind rather than cash. If you know anything about dogs, cats etc, it won't be hard to figure some basic needs out (gunny bags to sleep on, belts, medicines etc).
The ACT blog is run by the members of the Reach Out Club. On the latter's blog you can also read about a recent pup rescue (of no less than 8!!) made on our very own office premises.

Rant 51: A new class of criminal

Every now and then, there just has to be that one movie that fucking blows you right out of your reality zone and pumps you so full of adrenaline that by the time you leave the theater you’ve already calculated how much you’ll have to cut back on daily expenses just so you can buy the collector’s edition DVD set of that particular film.
At this moment I can think of only two such movies (there may be more of course but I’m not going to make the effort to think all that hard now).
Inglourious Basterds is one such while The Dark Knight was the other.
(no I haven’t bought DVDs for either, but it would definitely be worth it…and someday, it will be for me)
No rewards for guessing why both these are so firmly entrenched in the mind of a not-so-hardcore-movie-buff like yours truly: THE VILLAIN.

I’m not going to waste words comparing Bollywood’s villainous characterizations with those of Hollywood. No sir! The gulf in class is very, very apparent.
What we can think about, is the difference between the villains in the afore mentioned films and those in other Hollywood films.

Heath Ledger bloody-well stole the show in The Dark Knight. Right from his little Magic trick at the beginning (Tadaaaaaa! It’s gone!!!) to his renditions of the tale of his scars (you wanna know how I got these scars?) to the absolutely mind-blowing WHY SO SERIOUSSS!
Scheming, smiling, laughing, terrorizing, haunting. Whatever -ing suffixed word you choose, fact remains, he was the kind of villain you literally wanted to get your hands on. Trust me, the more sadistic acts he committed, the more I wanted to strangle him. But no! something in the back of my brain wanted to see more depraved acts, more girls tied behind chairs over sticks of dynamite in a room full of gasoline cans, and more hospitals being blown up.
In other words, he was perhaps the personification of the very limits to which a man’s evil can reach. And like it or not, we all have a curiosity towards finding out what that limit is. The sad part is, we experience more satisfaction in realizing the limits of others rather than our own.
But back to the villains
Hans Lander.

Now what do we call him? I doubt if you can call him scheming on the same plane as the Joker. He was simply caught up in a situation where he had to do his duty, no matter that he did in a stretched out fashion, taking his time with every "kill". His every action/dialogue belying his actual purpose. Perhaps he differed from the Joker with respect to being overly meticulous. Size up the target, lure it into a false sense of security, put on a mask of ignorance, feign an interest in sidebar conversations and finally…attack to eliminate. The funny part was, even though most of his actual actions might be termed "evil" how far was it from the inhumanity meted out by the basterds in their quest to kill as many NAZIs as possible. Again, a good representation of all the evil we thought was only in fantasies.
Another notable difference between the two stalwarts was the manner in which they were finally apprehended. While the Joker was probably laughing all the way to jail, Lander proved that when the barrel is pointed in the wrong direction, attitudes change.
Other aspects of inglourious basterds that were amazing:-
1) Deviation from history: killing off the NAZI high command, including Hitler, Bormann and Goering. I completely expected at least the top three to survive by some miracle.
2) Blood and gore: normally I’m not big fan of these, but the overhead, shot early on, in the movie of a NAZIs head being smashed literally to pulp with a baseball bat sparked a minor fascination that was only topped by the repeated pumping of bullets, towards the end, into Hitler’s lifeless body by the basterds.
3) The fact that it wasn’t just Hans Lander who stole the show (as opposed to the Joker). Every single actor had a definite share of the stealing. Maybe a little less for Brad Pitt due to his over-the-top-fake southern drawl.
With all due respect to both actors, I still consider the Joker portrayal as a winner between the two. Maybe it’s because the Joker didn’t have a ‘thousand-year Reich’ behind him for leverage or maybe because he did those evil, crazy things not for money…but (as Alfred the Butler puts it) "just to watch the world burn"
The world (of films) needed a new class of criminal, and they are here.

Rant 49: If Truth be told...

• South Park is not even half as funny on VH1 with all the "good" stuff either bleeped out or (worse!) completely cut-out (as much as bootlegged copies)
• Procrastination levels in a person are directly proportional to the number of dishes / clothes that are craving his/her attention at home.
• Work sentiment in the office is directly proportional to the Internet Bandwidth available there.
• Friends will always have an opinion on your behaviour/ thoughts/ on what you say… but will mostly spill it out in front of other friends when they want to look cool…(only) very rarely will they let it out to you.
• Musical preferences cannot be imposed upon someone, nor should you be held socially accountable for them.
• The Air Conditioning in the office will always seem to get worse (read: colder) just when you think it’s at the right temperature.
• A bad cricket team will always lose, no matter how many "informed" individuals cram themselves in front of a 14" TV and scream instructions.

MFL

Rant 48: Ode to an injured watch

Soft light passes through the windows
And caresses your metal
Till mine eyes hit upon an angle
And the flash catches me unawares
At that moment I can tell
The flash is nothing more
than your best smile
“How like life,” I say and quickly realize
That you have so much to say
And yet say so much more in silence

Today you fell
Inside my long sleeve first
And onto the floor thereafter
Your metal strap is now detached
From your black-ringed face
My feeble attempts to fix you
Were to no avail
You lie on my table now…so fragile, so frail
Is it the end I ask?
For such a long and glorious friendship

You have been with me
When I traversed these lands
Through the curves of the Western Ghats
Through sandy Goa paths
In the mind-blashting heat of Apni Delhi
As well as its frigid underbelly
Through “smashing” Manipal nights
And never-ending smoky delights
Never wavering in telling me
Exactly how much I had left in me

Now you lie, broken in state
But I know, That no matter how many falls
Or breaks
Or let-downs
What you shall never be
Is broken in spirit, my promise to thee

I know my words are not enough
But your fate dear friend
Is now in the hands of someone else
Someone, who knows your anatomy well
Someone who probably works out of Bendoorwell
Or maybe its Kankanady
It will be, as Russell puts it, SOMEBODY!

Get well soon!

Rant 46: My Office Episode 3

There is a reason why I took my time with this Episode. I was giving myself an extra few days, just in case my opinions got changed by some miracle. Sadly they haven’t.
Oh wait! You don’t know what I’m talking about. Ok let’s get up to speed on this one.
Ever since I arrived (yes Vinod, I can hear the snickering) in the state of Karnataka around three and a half years ago, I have thought a lot about languages, specifically, local languages in this region and those that I can’t understand. It’s alright to watch a Kannada movie and figure out the general storyline through overly stereotypical character constructions, actions and dialogue delivery styles. However, it’s quite another to be in a public place, say a bus or a restaurant and to understand what is going on. I honestly feel completely out of place at times, especially after moving to Mangalore. During college at Manipal, the language barrier was a little less pronounced wherein it was only the odd autorickshaw driver or shopkeeper who’d turn out to be a mono-linguist (it’s an international college campus for f***’s sake. I mean come on!!!). Most of the local populace there could communicate quite manageably in Hindi and a good number could even speak English. I guess that sort of put me in the language bubble where I assumed that a similar situation existed in Mangalore.
NOT!!!
The language barrier here is the Berlin Wall of all such dividers. People here naturally assume you know the local language. I can understand that to a certain extent. But dude, even after I’ve told you "No kannada boss", you still rattle on in the same manner. I mean that’s either plain stupidity or plain linguism (couldn’t find a better word for language racism…lol!). In very few places (not counting malls of course) have I seen people communicating in Hindi or even English. Ok, I can hear some of you saying, "Learn the friggin’ language dude!" But seriously, there is a minor sense of animosity I get whenever I speak to say auto drivers in Hindi. It’s sort of like, "Oh you’re from outside. Okay, I’ll take you but I won’t be happy about it!" Now, normally I wouldn’t care if they were happy about it or not, as long as I’m not overcharged. However, I feel that it is this attitude of "you’re an outsider" that is the cause of so much strife and rioting in this region. "You’re an outsider", can so easily be interchanged with "You’re different from us" (Yes you pussy communal-riot-flamers, I am looking right at you!!).
And it’s not just with people working in the public sphere. In fact, the language barrier is a kind of front for what I feel is the general attitude of people here. My own landlord gave me a stern message the first time I spoke with him. "We don’t like outsiders!" I kid you not. These were the exact words. I guessed he meant people from outside Karnataka. At that time, in a room with 6 people where I was the only "outsider", I have to say, I felt a slight shiver down my spine.
Apparently, they don’t like leasing rooms or houses out to Non-Karnataka people. My landlord’s logic went something along the lines of "If you come, then more people will want to come, then our community will become bad."
How can you not feel like smashing something up at that point?
Further, doesn’t this seem similar to what is reported about Mumbai/Maharashtra? Where exactly is the society here heading towards I ask you?
Well, until next episode, to all my local friends: Kannada Gotthilla!

Rant 45: Cartoon break

Whenever I'm a little bored in the office, I go on a Cartoon break...
just hunt around the net for time-transcending strips like Garfield, Calvin and Hobbes etc. And sometimes trawling for newer, more intelligent sounding ones.
XKCD (google it, I'm too lazy to link it for you)
plus this strip I found very recently on this site (is it funny today? no I'm not asking you, that's the name)
Looks like a modern day version of Calvin and Hobbes, except that both characters are animals and the "Hobbes"-esque character (a guy called Utahraptor) tends to speak more than his Bill Watterson counterpart. Also, the drawings are the same for every single strip, which is interesting because the character expressions pretty much make sense (or are laughable) for every dialogue in every different strip

thats all I have to say...
I have to get back to work now!

Rant 44: My Office, Episode 2

So life, as they say, goes on. Hold on! This was a sentence I used to see in my school magazine as endings to corny (and sometimes funny) articles. I’m guessing the authors couldn’t think of a good ending, and thus ended that way. So why am I using this sentence and that too in the beginning of this post?
Maybe, it’s because life inside the office will always have its particular rhythm. I really don’t see any need to elaborate much on the general workings and happenings, at this moment. (If you’re interested in it, please see Episode 1 of this series)
So let’s step out of the office space. However, I will stay within the confines of various aspects of office-life.
First things first, Lunch.
In the beginning, there was thali (a traditional south Indian meal and apologies for sounding biblical). Well, to actually call the cafeteria’s meal a traditional thali would be stretching it. It was…uhh…well…you know, an-edible-assortment-of-things. A cup of white rice, two chapathis, a curry, some sabzi (vegetable mix) and curd. I would say that from childhood, I’ve evolved from being a picky-eater (huge euphemism) to one who can survive on anything. And the afore mentioned meal was okay, I guess. The first month or so, my 30-minute lunch comprised standing in the lunch line, picking up whatever variation of curry/sabzi was on offer for the day and then endure the TV, which for some reason was always tuned to MTV. For an even odder reason, my lunch breaks always seemed to coincide with Splitsville (and if you have never heard of this show before, Run Forrest Run!).
Then came the rumours, not to mention the heavy drowsiness I felt post-lunch. After discussions with some colleagues, I decided that the vicious rumours about the canteen guys adding Soda to the rice to increase quantities could well be true. And in any case, who wanted to take chances eh? Next thing you know, they might come up with a stomach disease called Soda-stone (Shotgun on the name rights, in case they actually find something).
They say the grass is always greener on the other side. In my case, I just hoped the food at a certain restaurant located just outside the back entrance to the office campus, was better filling and had less potential for harm. What I imagined to be a hoattall turned out to be a plain old dhaba (quite possibly, a house converted into a dhaba). There was nothing plain old about the service. Enter "Aunty"!
A hobbling old woman (reminds me a lot of my grandmother) is in charge here, and she is pretty much the only one. And yet, despite the fact that loads of other employees from the company (or as I like to call them, the soda-in-canteen-rice-conspiracy-group) come to eat here, she remembers the choices of every single one of them.
And the food itself, is divine! Well, maybe not divine in the true sense of the word, but the very fact that it was "home-cooked" or at least tasted as such, was enough for me to forsake the canteen. My regular choices include 3 parotas, curry, sabzi and 3 pieces of chicken kebab. It’s been one heavenly lunch after another so far. The best part about Aunty’s (that’s the name of the place I think. At least I haven’t heard a different one yet), is that she doesn’t really care how much of curry or sabzi she lovingly doles out. Or even of the number of pieces of chicken. She handed me five once, when I’d asked for three, and the smile on her face told me who my second mum was! (first mom, I still love your food the best…KFC, you, of course, are my second dad).
A wholly satisfying lunch later, I return to the office to continue work. And here I wish I was allowed to take pictures in the office, wherein I could post a before and after pic of my post-lunch situation. BEFORE: resting head on hands, eyes closed, in risk of getting pulled up by manager.
AFTER: eyes wide open, ready to take on the world…or is it China?

(PS: Next episode will be on another important aspect of office life…Communications)

Rant 43: My Office, Episode 1

My office has changed me quite a bit as a person.
About a month back, I was pulled up by my managers here for posting three articles on this blog, based on the workings of my department. I have since taken down those ‘effing posts. Okay, so I can’t write about that stuff but I guess writing about the office in general should not be an issue (I hope!).
So here goes.
For the first time in my life, I am feeling what most office-goers can perhaps relate to, i.e. STRESS. My three-walled workstation, with a computer to stare at for 8-9 hours a day (on Fridays it’s 12) takes its toll on me every time. At the end of the day’s shift I can literally feel the heaviness in my eyes. I cannot remember the last time I felt this sort of daily grind. Don’t get me wrong. The work itself is quite interesting and keeps you on your toes but of course I can’t talk about it here (which probably increases your curiosity right? Don’t worry, I’m not building any nukes here, neither am I being called double-o-seven…sigh!). I guess all I can reveal to you is that it’s an editing and design based job. It has its impacts as well and not only on the reports that I sub. Even on this blog, I have gone from a raving ranting writer who didn’t care about grammar, punctuation and the like, to a raving ranting writer who’s been subbing this particular post as its being written.
I guess the stress and grind parts are inevitable in any person’s life. Most of you reading this have probably already faced all that through high school and perhaps even college. Sadly (?), I was more of the I-DON’T-GIVE-A-RAT’S-POSTERIOR-FOR-EDUCATION types, which meant that high-school was a breeze. I was content with average marks and didn’t value the rat race too much. And college, well, I don’t suppose ANY sane person is expected to feel stress in this period of life. Not with Pink Floyd, pretty chicks and healthy doses of inebriation around at least!
Our office computers have access to the internet of course. However, we have been strictly warned to refrain from visiting social networking websites, accessing our emails, basically visiting any website that’s not directly related to our work. And in the true spirit of "Indian heterodoxy" (my thanks to Amartya Sen), people manage to sneak in visits every now and then. The few unlucky ones, such as myself, were assigned workstations with computers facing the manager’s desk (or at least are within-sight), which means my "illegal" visits have to be conducted during **********.
(no errors or cursing here, just keeping my ass covered)
Thankfully, the office has a few television sets to keep us entertained (though they are understandably kept on Mute). It helps a lot, believe me. Even if you are the Grandmaster of Secret-Orkutting-Facebooking-Gmailing, you cannot help but take the occasional five minutes off your work to watch the Ashes, football or some random movie. And a big thank you to the major movie channels for introducing subtitles in their screenings!
Coming back to the office-changing-me part. Until I took up this job, I could never have imagined myself settling into a 9 to 5 type day. However, two months in, I have pretty much synched myself with the daily routine. To top it off, my job isn’t a 9 to 5 affair. On most days, i.e. days that I’m lucky, I manage to leave by 8 pm. On a Friday, for reasons that I am unable to divulge, I reach home by 10-10:30 pm. The bad part about Mangalore city is that the public transport system (ok that’s too much credit; the BUS service) shuts down after 9 pm. Still, I’m getting used to these late hours and minor discrepancies as well. All part of the real world experience I guess.

Rant 42: Indian v Sri Lanka 3-1

Just saw the game between India and Sri Lanka in the ONGC Nehru cup 2009, at the Ambedkar Stadium, New Delhi. Must say, that the team looks pretty good in terms of passing the ball around, creating scoring opportunities and actually taking them when it counts.

Although, India lost their Nehru Cup 2009 opener to Lebanon, they came back strongly against Kyrghystan. Sri Lanka, on the other hand, had been reeling from a walloping they received two days ago at the hands of Syria. In the buildup to the India game Coach Perreira (Sri Lanka) had been critical of the fixtures, saying they favoured the hosts who had to play games at a lesser frequency than the visitors.

However, for India the match itself was a must-win, which would certainly have increased the pressure, as opposed to the Lankans who simply had to draw to remain in the tournament.
India took the lead mid-way through the first half through a header from golden-boy Baichung Bhutia. For the most part, the first half looked like India's for the taking as the Lankans remained content with their long, ambitious balls into the final third with only their two strikers chasing after the ball, looking like random farmers in a barren, untouched-by-rain Indian rice field.
Prior to the first goal, India almost got their rewards for dominating the first ten minutes via Sunil Chettri who got his head to a free kick from just outside the half-way line. However, the goal was ruled out for offside. The Indian fans were forced to wait for a superb in-swinging cross from Steven Dias, from the right side touchline, that Bhutia converted with a charging header. The Lankans looked unable to defend the aerial ball at all times and were largely uncomfortable with the constant pressure from their opponents right up to the half time whistle. There were several occasions when the Indian players struck the woodwork and one felt, the hosts deserved a better scoreline in their favour going into the break.
After the break, however, it was the islanders who started the more positive, as they managed a ten-minute period of pressure with shots ranging in from the midfielders (I'm not going to pretend I remember their names!!). India too looked like increasing their lead, with Bhutia striking the woodwork (again off a header).
The Sri Lankan efforts paid off eventually. The goal came off a relatively harmless looking free-kick, which was headed into goal off a defender's foot and was enough to set the scores level. Indian coach Bob Houghton was definitely not pleased with the defending but that didn't stop the Indian forwards from pressing on for the lead. Surprisingly, it was defender Gauramangi Singh who got the lead once again for the hosts, with a simple tap-in after the Lankan goalkeeper failed to parry the ball safely away from a near post cross.
Midfielder Steven Dias found the net around ten minutes later, with a cracking shot after being released on the right by NP Pradeep. 3-1 India!!!
The hosts were then content to make the odd foray down the centre, whilst keeping their opponents at bay. Although, Sri Lanka managed a few runs down the flanks in the final stages of the match, India were able to see the game through.

I must say...even though I haven't followed the Indian team before or since the coaching was taken over by Bob Houghton, it was a pleasure to watch them play. There was a definite attitude of "going forward" that we had.
In contrast, I remember a match we played in England against Wolverhampton Wolves (of the English Premier League) a few years back and I actually felt ashamed at the fact that we could not even provide decent enough competition against a bottom-table league side, let alone score a goal and even worse, play against full-strength national sides.
We seem to have come a long way from that and here's hoping our next game, against Syria, goes just as well!

and btw, the match description was my first attempt at something of a "Match review" perse, so feel free to post any comments, criticism of the same...Thanks!

Rant 41: TV, Entertainment and Prosperity

I finally have a form of entertainment at my house apart from the big line of books on the maddeningly low shelf space. A TV.
Don't get me wrong.
I may not be as huge a fan of books as some of my more stiff-lipped friends who love invoking Arundhati Roy and sometimes obscure south-Indian authors just to sound smart, but I do enjoy picking up autobiographies, run-of-the-mill college type comedies (aka 5.someone types), a few action thrillers and - of late - some political ones, every now and then.
However, if you ever stepped into my current dwelling, you would realise that there can be two possible consequences of reading too many books in the kind of "scene" there is: A low power, orangey-yellowey, depressing little night light.
Consequence 1: I go half-blind
and 2: I kill myself.
So in order to avoid both (more so for No.2 I guess) I pestered my folks to finance a TV. And finance they did. Coercion, thy name in my book is whining...
Enter a Phillips 21".
I will refrain from saying too much about the cable connection. Sufficeth to say, Consequence No 1 (see above) has a chance of befalling me yet.
So to talk about the actual TV viewing...
I'd been desperate to catch some EPL action and lo and behold, the first thing I see on ESPN is the EPL highlights show, with Manu's match against Wigan (a 5-0 thrashing to get my grin going). Having filled up on EPL, topped with a healthy dose of SportsCenter, I began my second favourite pastime on TV, channel surfing. Even though the set has a lag time from the moment you press the +/- sign to when it actually changes, wherin the audio stops half a second before change, surfing on it is quite enjoyable. Not least if I end up on a boring saas-bahu show. There is nothing more satisfying than cutting off audio for a woman just about to embark on a marathon of emotional dialogues, not to mention the dramatic soundtrack with pointless extreme close-up zoom-ins and zoom-outs.
However, the icing on the cake was this tele-shopping type sales pitch I saw on some random 24 hour news channel (and you wonder where all the breaking news ideas come from???)
The sales person was a "real" sadhu, complete with braided hair, and through elaborate gestures, he explained how the

SHIV SHAKTHI KAVACH could eliminate all bad influences in your life; bad neighbours, somebody who wanted to cause you harm, swine flu, aids and other horrifying elements. All you had to do was BUY the Kavach and wear it. And in the true spirit of Teleshopping, a free gift was available to the first 100 or so callers: a gold sticker to hang on your house's doorstep to ward off all evil.

Thank you TV industry for making possible rib-crushing laughter without the need for THC!

Rant 36: The best corporation in the world

Okay, so after hours of contemplation, I have reached the conclusion that
a) Never start with 20 kilo weights after a month long break from working out
and...
b) the best corporation in the world is...Religion Inc.
Taking in astronomical sums of money each year as capital and registering super-normal rises in year-on-year profits, the corp has literally grown from scratch to one of the biggest oligarchs in the history of human habitation on the Earth.
Right from its humble beginnings in the stone age, it started with initial fixed assets (capital) of goats, sheep, cows and other animals (otherwise called sacrifices). As time progressed, some of its public shareholders decided that they wanted more control over the enterprise and thus began formulating company policies.
At all points, these policies were dictated to a single public shareholder by the company executives. Those execs with many hands (and many lives as well) preferred to remain above the cloud levels and communicate through various avatars in their earthly escapades, most avatars being animal forms.
Execs who actually dared to show their true faces on the Earth, quickly learnt to avoid that approach, as reports were reaching the boardroom that the public shareholders loved playing Crucifixion.
The company policies were written into various forms for easier understanding amongst the masses. Some execs added a bit of sado-masochist porn in, while others preferred a good dose of good-old blood and gore. All in all, it was a good book...or so it seems.
In time, the public shareholders became even more demanding. So the execs decided to sell off their majority shares and head off on a long vacation. The public shareholders decided to branch out the company and formed different sub-divisions. The strange thing was (as is with companies owned by Rupert Murdoch) that even though the sub-divisions were meant to pour "profits" into the same parent company, the publicly seen methods of obtaining those incomes violated various ethical norms, not least in the corporate battles between the sub-divisions themselves.
However, the company knew that no matter how many mass killings, suicides, pollution, they would always emerge victorious in the eyes of their shareholders because of their one TRUMP card...
The simple phrase : "It's my religious belief"
Working even more effectively than a full blown cruciatus curse, this single phrase has guaranteed that critics of any kind, will tip-toe respectfully away from any debate on the company's policies.
Thus, the wisest investment in these dark times is perhaps Religion Inc.

S.O.T.O. Rants is in no way affiliated with and does not endorse the beliefs and policies of Religon Inc. Purchase of mutual funds, shares and debentures are subject to market risks (Earthquakes, tsunamis, global warming, famines). Please read the offer document carefully before investing.

Rant 35 : A call to arms

During college, what began as mere curiosity during high school, emerged as a continual rant against 'THE MAN' …the government or let’s say civil rule in general. (hell you can call it Life in general...but time constraints prevent such an exhaustive post)
Enter the documentary phase (currently ongoing). Various movies, comprising earth-shattering revelations (not to mention the bible’s own "happy ending" to life), drove metaphorical rods through my skull.
"The Bush administration was behind 9/11? Saddam was a kindly gentleman? Hitler was a CIA agent? McDonald’s is the world’s next superpower? Jenna from those porn flicks is a dude?"
(Ok, I made up that last one…but you get the idea right?)

Then of course I met others in college who had well reasoned arguments (and who were definitely much better read than I) about how our own government was brutally oppressing sections of the populations who had no other choice but to take up arms. This relatively new aspect has kind of troubled me for a while now.
A few months since leaving college, I’ve been having discussions with a friend. Both of us have our qualms against THE MAN, yet in the true spirit of Free Thinking, we find ourselves opposed on certain counts.
I happened to mention that as a patriotic Indian (for the land, maybe not the government) I would probably answer a call to arms if war broke out (I might add, only if my country is NOT the aggressor). Her reply began a discussion on borders and an attack on the concept of state etc. How they were western ideals and that India had just been a massive piece of land with no real borders till the British colonized us.
I just put forth, "But we have borders now. It’s the present I’m concerned about. You want to tell all the countries to get rid of borders? Who is going to listen?"
She continued, "Governments go to war…not nations. Why do you want to take up arms, kill or get killed for a government?"
Yes, why would I…or why should I? My answer is no, I will not kill and try my best not to BE killed in a war of aggression. BUT, if my country is being attacked, which effectively means some assholes in a different country decided, all humans were not equal or that my countrymen deserved to die for governmental faults (otherwise called Failing Diplomatic tactics), then YES, I will answer the people’s call to resist.
In this context I am referring to a democratic (people) government’s call to a war of defense.
(the friend again) "If you run away from a war zone in order to survive, you’re not being a coward, you’re being clever."
OK…so if my area (my town, city, country whatever) is being attacked and Mothers, Fathers, Brothers and Sisters are being killed, I should act "clever" and get the hell out of there? No, I’m sorry. Maybe you can try telling that to the guy from the Tiannamen-Square Tank incident.
I know I can’t do much for the thousands dying due to poverty everyday, but I fight my own war of defense in this regard as well. How is it any different for war time? people die during war as they die during peace...
The uprising against the NAZIs in the Warsaw ghetto is CHOSEN to be remembered, while the NAZI crimes are chosen to be pushed to the very back of our minds.
There is a reason for this...I'm sure someday me and that friend of mine will figure it out.
I sincerely hope, however, that we never see eye to eye...

Rant 31: The best news channel/paper in the world

Based on the propaganda model developed by a bespectacled "young" man, who once got arrested for opposing the vietnam war, here is my conclusion.
Humans are probably born with the realisation that every piece of news or information we get from another source, has essentially passed through one or more of the filters of that model. I don't know why we tend to cling to one kind of source (leading to biased views). However, how the hell is one supposed to get the most un-biased, independant version of events. Either by researching every single piece of information published, from every single type of source in the world (and that includes online articles btw...so good luck on THAT) or by actually being in the place where the event took place. And for close to infinite number of events happening every day, the latter is obviously an impossible task. The former would likely drive the researcher nuts, which is my guess for why the people Mr. C opposes, choose to ignore him.
So
To bring you a very cliched saying...

God could not be everywhere, so he created Mothers...

and...my own modification to that

Humans could not be everywhere, so they created God

Think about it. You would actually have to be an omniscient power, able to hear and see everything in order to have the most unbiased view of what happened and why.

so the best News-Source in the world would be God...and since I know there isn't one in the first place, I'm guessing I can safely say, that there is no perfect source.

We are all being lied to in some form or the other...

Deal with it!