Dumchuk Dumchuk Dumchuk

Clubbing is an art form. There is more to it than meets the eye. I mean, not everyone is cut for it. I for one, could never get it even if I wanted to.

My first two times at a club were total disasters. The decibel level made me sick and honestly I couldn't imagine how anyone could enjoy this cacophony. The next two were illuminating. I was out with some French guys (there are always some in our department) and believe me the French know to party. So, I learnt a few things from 'mes amis' about clubbing (How they can drink, get drunk and party till 3 or 4 in the morning and come back to work next day, I would never know).

I have figured out that there are two main techniques or approaches that one deploys to pick up a girl.

The first one I discovered when I was out with Monsieur J. We had given him the nickname Desperado. Not because he looked anything like Antonio Banderas but because he was desperate (very very) to get laid. (Run American Pie in your head). His approach, which we have christened AK-47, is to spit fire mercilessly in all directions in the hope that you hit something.

In the one hour I was with him in the club, he must have thrown a line for twenty fish, and several of them already had their teeth on someone's hook. That shouldn't deter a braveheart, should it? Despite being humiliated and ignored by all of the twenty women, our hero was smiling and with enough hope to eclipse a kid on Christmas morning, went after girl no. 21. Apparently a jug of whiskey (or Bourbon-Coke) immunises you from all sorts of insult. I left at girl no. 25 and I was told the next day that his lucky number was 47 (and is usually between 35-55). That he had ammo for 47 rounds astounds me. It is hardwork and anyone who says otherwise is a liar.

The next time I went clubbing was with a different bunch of Frenchies (6 months later). Messieurs E, F, G, a couple of Cs and a P were with me. Both Cs, E and G had girlfriends back in France and were loyal to them even when they weren't around to check (Duh???). Mr. P was married and even had children and wasn't going to mess around. The only single and available person in that group was F. (And yours faithfully too, but I don't count). We were just mucking about, trying to speak over the din of the dumchuk dumchuk dumchuk (try yelling) and I was using my new French vocabulary to great effect (I was learning to swear in Français).

M'sieur F was standing with us, ofcourse. Silently sipping his Vodka-Lime. I was surprised, in that I was expecting him to go hunting and here he was hanging out with us dancing to Shakira's Hips don't lie and singing along the new Australian Idol Damien Leith's Night of my life (does it matter that I didn't know the lyrics and was only moving my lips. In that blaring noise, did anyone know? or care?). I wouldn't be lying if I said that I believed him to be one of us nerds.

Then, suddenly, bham! I see him talking with a hottie. Bought her a drink and danced a number or two and before I knew what was going on, off they went. Need I say that he saw some action that night. And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is what I call the 'Naarai trick'.

Naarai is the Tamil word for Crane (the bird) and I remember a poem from long long ago that talked of a Naarai which waited patiently on one foot for the right fish. It let small fish pass by. It even let them peck at its one leg. But stationary it stood until the big game, mistaking it for a stem or something got nearby. Then bham! it dove in and grabbed the unwitting juicy one with its strong beak.

When I mistook F for a nerd, he was scope-ing on one leg. An unattached babe comes in with a gaggle and in microseconds he had her caught up in his charm. Now beat that.

That's why I say Clubbing is an art form and there is more to it than meets the eye. I mean, not everyone is cut for it. I for one, could never get it even if I wanted to. My interest in it was (and is) purely academic. But if you do want to try it, the AK-47 or the Naarai, hope this helps.

Cricket

Yesterday seems to have been a day of victories. Well! If someone won, someone lost. So I shouldn't be gloating like this, I guess. While Australia had its revenge for the Ashes loss last year with a thumping victory (and looking forward to a whitewash, I must add), India posted its first victory in South Africa. The two test matches were almost parallel; low-scoring and with an achievable fourth innings target which the losing team almost got and would have, for they had enough time in their hands. Unfortunate for them they did not have enough men to wield the bat.

We haven't exactly been successful outside the subcontinent and any victory, however small, and mind you bowling out the South Africans for 84 is never small, is very special and needs to be toasted.

Some random notes:

Looking forward to Warne's 700 in the Boxing day test. With 699 in his bag, he is truly blessed by the Gods of cricket.

I am disappointed that Ganguly and Laxman are back in the team though I quite understand that their contributions were important for our victory. It was Greg Chappell's stand all along that for long term benefits for the team we must go with a young side and that multiple talent was a pre-requisite. To see his position undermined by some fathead (literally) who doesn't know which end of the bat to hold, is sad.

I applaud Damien Martyn who had the guts to retire when he could have clung on. I am not sure if there was any arm twisting involved but if he did what he did, of his volition, I salute him. Darren Lehmann did the same a year or so back to give room for Andrew Symonds. Sourav and Sachin should take a lesson from them. What if we don't have matchwinners amongst us for a while.

There is a rumour making its round that Hussey is a cyborg sent from the future to maintain Australian supremacy in cricket. I am tempted to believe it.

To more victories!

A Racy tale

Rahul stormed into the room. "He called me a 'curry nigger', the racist bastard. I can't believe it. You know, I thought we were over this name calling thing"

"It's never over. The other day, David saw me wearing sunscreen before the soccer game and said that it was the first time he was seeing a darkie, mind you, darkie, wearing sunscreen. I had to turn around to see if he was talking about some one else. Like hell, darkie. He is just a couple of shades lighter than me. It is not like I am black. I mean, after all I am North Indian and you know what they say, people are very fair in the north, its the Aryan blood and get progressively darker as you come southwards. And the SriLankans, man! they could give the Africans a run for their money". That was Varun, his housemate.

"Oh! David is white pig. Hey! You want to go somehere for dinner?"

"Yeah! Lets go try this new Ethiopian restaurant. Cheri said she liked it a lot"

"What the hell are we going to an Ethiopian restaurant for? Like they have anything edible! Their only cuisine is starving. They'll possibly serve you hot water with onion peals and call it soup. Lets go to Bollywood Masala instead"

Dhoom Kaboom

Watched Dhoom-2 this weekend. I don't mind it, the mindless masala. Don't know how to bill this blockbuster movie. Lets call it Chicken Tikka Masala. Read somewhere that Tikka Masala, the most popular Indian dish in the 'Motherland' is not an Indian dish at all. It sounds Indian, it tastes Indian but is a western concept of an Indian dish. Like something an Indian chef would make to please his Brit customers. I know it is an International quality movie because they kissed on-screen and there were skinny women in skimpy clothes.

Just for fun, lets imagine Dhoom-2 being made by some other film maker.

Say, if our own beloved Captain Vijayakanth was the cop to whom the International robber A's case was brought:

Some incredibly dumb looking extra: But why, when not even one robbery has taken place in India, and no proof or suspicion that the thief is of Indian origin present, do we break our heads on this case?
Captain: Hey! (Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!) Do you not know about Indian police? We are the best in the whole world. Even if God himself were to commit a crime, we would go knock on his door the next day with an arrest warrant. The average time the Indian police take to solve a crime is 23.45% the time that Scotland yard takes. Why! if I was asked to find Osama Bin Laden, I would have him behind bars before he can say Al-Qaeda.

If the King of Tikka Masalas, Mr. Karan Johar were to direct D-2

A (in Rio house): Om Jai Jagadish Hare... Swami ...
Sunehri: A thief and, like, a devout thief at that, like, uh? like uh?
A: B'coz one lives away from India doesn't mean one forgets India. I may live one month in Brasil, one in Cairo, one in Korea, another in Johannesburg and travel worldwide but I carry a bit of my own country wherever I go (shows a bagful of Bharat Maa ki mitti). In the heart of hearts, I am an Indian.

btw, heard the Madame Tussads people are very angry that somebody stole Aishwarya Rai's wax statue, chipped-off a few kilos and used it in this movie. Really angry.

From the Ashes

Sporting events are infinitely more popular in Australia than in India. Granted, that most cricket matches are sold out in India and followed closely by one and all. But it is only cricket that has such strong following. Here, people would turn out in numbers to watch anything, even Lawn Bowls. So, it was no surprise when the tour opener of Ashes, played in Canberra drew a full house. I had an amazing view, seated close to the sightscreen. Why! I could judge LBW appeals from where I sat (that one pitched outside off. No way he is getting a wicket)

The match between the Prime Ministers XI and the visiting team every summer is a Canberran tradition. A tradition held as dear as the Boxing Day test. And when it is the Poms, it is somehow more special.

Last year, the Freddie-led Poms had managed to regain the Ashes after 16 years. Quite undeservingly if you ask me. Revenge was in the lips of every Aussie cricket lover. And boy! what a welcome we gave them.

Fielding a full side, England lost the tour opener to a PM's XI team that did not boast of even one experienced international player, by a margin of 166 runs. Fringe players, Phil Jacques and Shaun Tait proved their mettle with the bat and ball respectively. The star batsmen, Trescothick, Pietersen and Flintoff were tamed, bowlers Giles and Mahomood were slaughtered, hit all around the park.

If it was any indication of things to come, this Ashes series is going to be a no-contest. In the best interests of cricket, I hope it isn't so that we all can enjoy a stimulating series.

Horses and other horse crap

Delta Blue won the Melbourne Cup yesterday. If you ask Delta who?, all I can say is that it is a Japanese horse that ran the historical 3200m at Flemington to rake in $3.85 million. The race also proved that not only Japanese cars but horses as well are the best in the world. Not bad, uh? The irony of the race is that the japanese horse won by a nose-length. (If you didn't get it, it was a Japanese horse. Still didn't get it... can't help you mate)

'So what??', one may wonder. Melbourne Cup is a national event in Australia, followed by pretty much everyone in the country (and many overseas). Nearly 2.3 million Australians watched it on TV. Why! it is a public holiday in Melbourne. The total betting involved is estimated to be near $140 million. So, it is real big. Huge.

That of course, doesn't mean I get it.

Now for some horse crap. Watched 'Manathodu Mazhaikalam'. This movie made me want to throw up. I can't imagaine they let them make movies like this. If they had too much money, they could give it to charity. Why! I would be more than willing to take it off them. Just don't make movies like these. Please. Have seen a string of disappointments. Vettaiyaadu Vilaiyaadu failed to impress. Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehnaa was spectacularly irritating. (I used to adore Shah Rukh but now he gets on my nerves). Contrast that against the last three English movies I watched. 'Three burials of Melquiades Estrada', 'Crash' and 'The Pianist'. Incomparable.

I could say more about the deplorable state of Indian cinema but Mani's Guru isn't far-off and I'll not make any hasty judgements. btw, looks like they had a pre-launch function, whatever that is supposed to mean. Heres to Guru.

Music

Came across this immensely talented group in YouTube. I think they are called the Yogi B and Natchatiras.



Personally I am no big fan of Rap/Hip-hop music, though I'm compelled to listen to it (a lot of it) in my friend's car stereo. I know Eminem from The Black Eyed Peas. That is as much as my initiation goes. I particularly dislike the generous dosage of profanities (most times, those are the only words I can make out).

Still, the Natchatiras impress me with their sheer innovation(for Tamil music); a new sound. The blending of 1980's Ilaiyaraaja's Madai Thiranthu with hip-hop rhythms has been executed well.

A must-see... a must-buy (I wonder if I can get my hands on their album, here in Australia. Anyone with info here??? )

Thuglak

Have you ever watched Muhamad Bin Thuglak? This hilarious political satire of Cho was a classic. And it sure wasn't just about the laughs. There is some truth...no strike that... more truth to Muhamad Bin Thuglak today than ever.

Thuglak chronicles the attempt of a small idealistic group who take over the government (as the resurrected Emperor Thuglak) and enact ridiculous laws... all with the hope of awakening the intellectual spirit of the nation by revealing their farce and indicating the credulousness of the common man.

Consider that... while I digress

I first heard of Scientology because of the South Park scandal, with Tom Cruise pressurising the makers to drop a show (which evidently hurt his religious sentiments). South Park in the rich tradition of Comedy Central is scandalous to say the least.

My sympathies were, of course with Tom Cruise, for the simple reason that I liked his 'Top Gun', 'Minority report' and 'Mission Impossible'. And because I didn't know crap about scientology.

In fact the name led me to believe they were an agnostic (or even atheistic) group who believed that all the miracles observed in the universe have a scientific explanation. Something like the scientists of CERN in 'Angels and Demons'. I also felt kindly to Scientology as I had watched 'Mormons' mocked at, in South Park and it wasn't pretty.

Scientology, as it turned out, was a religion that had nothing to do with scientific skepticism or agnosticism. Consider this from the Wikipedia article on Scientology

... story of Xenu and his Galactic Confederacy. Xenu (sometimes Xemu) is introduced as an alien ruler of the "Galactic Confederacy" who, 75 million years ago, brought billions of people to Earth in spacecraft resembling Douglas DC-8 airliners, stacked them around volcanoes and blew them up with hydrogen bombs. Their souls then clustered together and stuck to the bodies of the living. The alien souls continue to do this today, causing a variety of physical ill-effects in modern-day humans.

Now, can you blame South Park for mocking them. Come on... seriously! You don't find that funny?

Apart from this "C3PO was our ancestor and Terminator came from the future to have a homosexual relationship with him and that is why we lost Paradise" kind of stories, the religion does seem to have the spiritual awakening of its practitioners in mind. Some of their tenets seem awfully close to some Hindu teachings.

• A person is an immortal spiritual being, termed Thetan, who possesses a mind and a body
• The thetan has lived through many past lives and will continue to live beyond the death of the body.
• Through the Scientology process of "auditing", one can free oneself of "engrams" and "implants" to reach the state of "Clear", and after that, the state of "Operating Thetan".
  

Substitute Thetan with Brahman and you have the ancient vedic religion.

I am sure that it is not so simple... all I am saying is that it has some sound, (atleast tried and tested) principles in it.

Mythology is or appears to be, at most times the ramblings of a keen imaginative mind on Prozac. I mean, we bought immaculate conception and lifting a mountain with the little finger and parting seas. Surely Galactic confederacy isn't stretching it by much, is it?

This is where Muhamad Bin Thuglak comes into the picture.

Did you know Scientology was developed by a Science Fiction writer? A certain Ron Hubbard.

My guess is he wanted to prove to the world how gullible they were and how the religions of the world were exploiting them with their mumbo-jumbo. So, he started a religion himself with some weird mumbo-jumbo. And his plan was to reveal all this in a spectacular fashion and make people reconsider their faith. However, like Thuglak, he got sucked into it and the religion survives. And people today actually believe in 'A galaxy far far away'.

Now that's a theory.

Of course, all religions are attempts to know the unknown and Scientology is just as deserving of respect as any other. I'll conclude with one of Scientology's tenets

What is true for you is what you have observed yourself. No beliefs should be forced as "true" on anyone.

Graham Bell turns in his grave

If you think life is all hunky dory bed-of-roses, try sharing office space (and telephone) with newly weds. In my office, (OK! not office, just postgrad room) dubbed 'The Stress Lounge', there are, not one but three married guys. Between the three, they get/make 30 calls on an average. That is more than one call per hour per person (c.p.h). And given that phone conversations can last upto an hour, they are pretty much on the phone all the time. (If you were trying to call me and got a busy tone, now you know why). How they get any work done is beyond me.

Yes! telephone is a great invention and mobile phones are a technological marvel. But, seriously!

And then there is this 'In love' group. I have a friend, another of the Stress Loungers, who pretty much lives with his girlfriend. He occassionally drops by to visit his room for a few minutes. From time to time. Mostly to get his clothes and stuff. In spite of that, he spends half-an-hour on the phone with his girlfriend. Every single day. He calls her in the evening at say, 5:30 and speaks till 6 only to leave for her place at 6:30. For chrissakes, they said goodbyes for a quarter-hour (this is perhaps the cliché of clichés). Why someone would do that fails me. If he had to coo in her ears, couldn't he do it in person. Do we need a telephone to love? (Or maybe love is cooed in person as well)

Ask them the reason and they will tell you it is something that you wouldn't understand unless you were in love yourself. Bah! (I am beginning to buy this argument. This friend was ridiculing the 'In love On phone' syndrome for a long long time and now, wham! he is a convert).

I don't deny that I am a romantic at heart, and as a gesture, making a call to tell the person you love that you are thinking of them even in the middle of a busy day is sweet. But, everyday!!!???

The things people do to express their undying love! Huh! Either I am rational, levelheaded and sane or plain jealous.

Stranger on the road

Around the same time as Ammani's QT160

Samaya Balraj was out for a jog in the park. The new surroundings don't look new at all. It was a week since he moved to this suburb (a demotion according to him) but he can't clearly make out the differences. Places, these days don't have a character about them, he muses. Have to make friends with some regulars at the park, he resolves. Ha! A brown face jogging towards him. Maybe a Hi, a smile or a nod wouldn't be out of place, he hopes. He is almost near her, an arms length, when he notices the look on her face. She has recognised him from someplace, he realises but he can't, for the life of him put a name to the face. Not a clue. Eyes meet and still no name. He can't afford to say he doesn't remember, can he? What if she was someone that he must remember? He quickly averts his gaze and jogs on. His forehead creases in a frown in an attempt at recall.

Rivalry

Around the same time as Ammani's QT 158

Two brothers are trying to solve a puzzle. The answer to which is 'flamenco'. But they don't know it yet and they have been staring at the page for a few minutes now. Gypsy, dance, clap, stamp - clues keep flashing in his head, the elder one's. He knows it from somewhere but can't quite get it yet. He looks at his brother , equally frantic to solve the puzzle. "Poor sod, his life is a mess. I wish I could do something to help him", he thinks. Eight letter word with third letter 'a', sixth letter 'n' and ending with 'o'. 'Flamenco' - the answer has to be flamenco. It checks out. He feels like yelling out loud that he has cracked it. But he looks at the younger one's frenzied efforts to better him, something he has had to do since his kindergarten. He restrains himself and then calmly suggests, "The answer is on page 56. Should we take a look?"

Pope goes Oh Poop!

Everyone makes mistakes. It is part and parcel of being human. Even saints and scholars are susceptible to it. I mean, if someone held a hand grenade in their hand, it is so easy to absentmindedly pull the pin. You can't blame them for that, can you?

Look at the Pope. He was sitting there, alone in the Vatican palace, getting bored. Apart from a few tourists who managed to fit in a coupla hours at the Vatican in their All-Europe tour itinerary, there weren't many people to even wave at. And the world, the world was getting too sensible.

Bush had admitted that perhaps the war on Iraq was possibly a mistake. I don't mean to say it was wrong. But maybe, the possibility that the war could have been a mistake cannot be entirely ruled out. If you know what I mean.

Blair was going to be kicked out. Israel was going to withdraw from Lebanon. Oil prices were stabilising. Even hurricanes petered out to harmless storms.

The world wasn't without problems. There was rain in Malaysia that stole the thunder from Sachin's comeback and the new baby boy 'Sutton', who was born to pop diva Britney.

Still, there really wasn't much happening. So...

poop... (that was the grenade pin if you didn't realise)

This Pope totally rocks. He will be the pin-up poster boy of every dreamy-eyed Muslim. Only the true Muslims. Not the "We are peace-loving, faithful followers of Mohamed" posers. He has retracted his comments and almost apologised but that's like trying to put the pin back in. In some models of grenades, that would work. This one... I am not so sure.

A review on reviews

Are the Film reviews in our print media changing face? After reading the review of Naaga in Hindu's Friday Review recently, I am beginning to think so. It is likely that the movie is so pathetic that people need to be warned to stay away from the theatres. It is also possible that reviewers have a moral authority (and responsibility) to flame bad films and maybe Hindu always did write scathing reviews. Still, I find reviews like it unpalatable. I admit I know very little about the process of reviewing and much less about cinema. But as a reader, I find the tone of the review less objective, why, even almost arrogant.

This same review on a personal blog or community forum wouldn't look out of place at all. Thats what blogs and other alternate media are for. But on a newspaper that atleast I consider The National Newspaper, it is unbecoming. If you don't have anything good to say, and all you are going to do is trash the movie, then why take the trouble at all. Isn't it better to just not review it. Not every movie that gets to the theatres find a place in the Friday Review, do they?

Teachers' day special

Priya has 'remembered' her teachers and I felt a post to thank my teachers was called for. Bear with me, my reminiscences.

Even before Kindergarten, I was in a Creche and though I have no memories of it, I am told that I had a great time with Vasumathi aunty. Starting school, I simply have to acknowledge the benevolent Principal of Karthikeyan at that time, Mrs. Balamani.

I believe that there is something about Anglo-Indian Kindergarten teachers. My KG teacher Beena was wonderful. Later having also seen my sister's KG teacher Esther, I have to say they just fit the bill. Like a Nair tea-kadai.

My First standard teacher, Mrs. Sitalakshmi had some trouble with me, what with me refusing to accept her as my teacher. However all the antagonism was offset after my parents found out that we shared some common friends and worked on building a personal rapport. Needless to say, I became one of her favourite pupils after that.

If there was one person who was the 'terror' of my primary school, it was Pushpa miss. Cane in hand, she sent shivers down every student's spine (and pee down the pants for some). The martinet, she has made us kneel-down in the sand for hours, trained us mercilessly for the Parade and simply made our lives miserable. A few years later, I understood how her iron-fisted regime shaped me and I was fortunate enough to see her softer side too before she passed away.

Then came the Golden age... some of the best times in my school life. Meena Subramanaiam ma'am, Mahalakshmi miss, Sharadha miss and many others teached me during this time. Meena ma'am was the Tamil teacher and she groaned unremittingly that I needed to maintain my classwork. Three years I got by without writing down stuff from the board in her class (and I continued that in my 9th and 10th under Latha miss).

Sundarrajan Sir (Maths) with his straight-out-of-sumo-wrestling build was sinister despite the permanent naamam in his forehead. He hated all of my extra-curricular activities and wished that I would settle down to spending more time on acads instead of squandering good time writing crap. Krishnamurthy sir (Physics) saw an aptitude to teach in me, I guess. He encouraged me to teach lab for the rest of the class and I think of him when I do lab demonstrations now in Australia.

The favouritest ofcourse were Mahalakshmi miss and Sharadha miss. Maha miss taught history and geography. She also helped out in school administration and when she was relieved of teaching our class in precedence to her administrative duties, I led a rebellion against it. Students of 9-A refused to eat their lunches. My sathyagraha was noticed and I (and my co-conspirator) were sent for by the Principal, who failing to convince us, let Maha miss continue to teach one subject (History).

If I ever wrote a My experiments with Truth, that would be the moment I realised the power of Sathyagraha. I went on to repeat it again; this time for Indra miss. Fresh out of college, she was so sensitive that she would start crying as soon as someone said something harsh to her. Students of 9-A again forwent their food to stop her from resigning her job (she resigned after a skirmish with the principal) but this time we weren't so successful.

Sharadha miss deserves an entire post for herself. She was the one who induced in me a love for language, introducing me to the joy of reading and writing. One thing I can never forget about her is the way she cried (not so secretly in the staffroom) after having punished me for not completing an assignment. She loved me so much she couldn't bear the thought of sending me out of class. I have never thanked her enough for being the best teacher in the world.

There were many others after that, in high school and later in college.

I am indebted to all of them for sharing their knowledge with me and for sculpting me chip by chip. I know it must have taken a lot of effort and I may not have expressed my gratitude earlier but 'Thank God for all teachers'.

The Crocodile Hunter

The charismatic Steve Irwin, the quintessential Aussie bloke of Crocodile Hunter fame died today while filming a documentary off the coast of Queensland. Apparently a stingray barb pierced his chest and he succumbed to the injuries.

In India, thanks to AXN, he was the most popular non-Cricketer Australian, more popular than even the primeminister John Howard.

All Australia mourns his death today. Perhaps many from across the globe as well.

He brought a smile to everyone's lips. May he be remembered well.

Weird post

Apparently there is a contest for Shaastra [IITM's Techfest], which involves making a site that'll top google search for a given term. Why they would do that beats me, but then I am used to people doing stuff that means nothing.

Our readership, by which I mean Priya of the Numbskulls has requested that this link be put up on my blog, so my other readers (she is delusional) will help her win.

If you feel that there was nothing weird at all, try this - coecelanth shaastra zeppelin equivocate and durbatuluk

Cerebration Part - 2

10 Basic Rules of Writing from Trudi Canavan's workshop

1. Show don't tell

2. Use strong verbs (He walked slowly/he strolled)

3. Avoid overdoing adjectives and adverbs - including qualifiers (very, rather, just, quite, really)

4. Use dialogue for immediacy:
Avoid too many adverbs (he said loudly/ he shouted)
But don't overdo the 'speech' verbs (ejaculated, muttered, whined, etc.)
Using said is OK
Accent and slang - not too much
If in doubt, read it aloud

5. Don't complicate point of views unnecessarily
Avoid too many povs in a novel
Avoid too many povs in a scene
If you must change from one pov to another within a scene, be careful you don't cause confusion

6. Avoid infodump by delivering background with
Dialogue (but not as "As you know Bob..."
Lessons/ stroytelling/ records/ letters/ books/ recollections/ dreams/ vision
If you deliver background via narrative, it is more dynamic if related from pov of character than a narrator

7. Avoid too many made-up words. Explain your concept as briefly as possible, always avoiding infodump

8. Get your facts straight. Research! Research! Research!

9. Avoid clichés (eg. roaring fire, raging desire). Avoid plot clichés (like sheperd who is the missing heir)

10. Perfect third person before using first person


And then one rule to rule all rules

11. Stick to the rules for starters and break them later when you are a skilled writer

Cerebration - Part 1

This weekend was the Canberra Readers and Writers Festival. The festival brought together many Australian writers and a few from overseas as well. I couldn't attend much of the festival, which was a shame, but I did attend a few 'Author speaks', a book launch and one of the workshops. This being my first festival, I am gratified to observe that books are still held in great affection by all age-groups.

The book launch wasn't spectacular in the way an Indian film has a muhurat. It was a small book, self-published by a Canberran writer. There was a lot of wine, bread and snacks though, and I think half the people just turned up for the free food (the other half being family and friends). I would be surprised if the book sold more than a thousand copies.

Met Kathryn Fox, who is considered by many as 'Australia's Patricia Cornwell'. Like in the Kay Scarpetta novels, Kathryn's Dr.Anya Crichton is a forensic pathologist solving puzzling crimes. Having read and enjoyed novels of both, it was very exciting to hear her speak about her books, her personal experience fighting crime and her take on writing.

The highlight of the show though was one of the star overseas writers invited to be part of the festival, the Canadian writer, Stuart McLean. He is a bestselling author and the host of his own CBC program, Vinyl Café and is quite a popular guy, from what I hear. I heard him read from his comical series and he was simply hilarious. I have never enjoyed a book reading as much before. He brought the characters to life with his narration so well, that we could almost 'watch' everything happen on the screen behind (being projected from the back of his head)

"Toilet Training Galway the cat" and "Morley hits a racoon" were nostalgically R.K.Narayan-ish. I think Stuart was what columnist V.Gangadhar ('Slice of life' in Hindu) would be like, if I ever get to meet him in person.

A good weekend. Very good weekend.

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"News is what we give them and we give them what they want"

One of my favorite pastimes when I was in India was to watch both Sun News and Jaya News. If you haven't done that before, you ought to. These people are fantastic. They can twist the basic of facts, give it a face, eyes, nose and make a monstrer off it. Take for instance, Kannagi statue or Kushboo's comments. Who the frigging hell cares one way or the other? Sun TV wanted you to believe that it was an attack on Tamil and Tamil women's chastity and bingo! most people did. Unless ofcourse you watched Jaya news. Look at the deplorable state of media. Everyday we see people being manipulated to believe their version of the truth. And it is not a phenemenon unique to the Indian media. Fox News has been accused of distorting news time and again. Also remember the 'Freedom fries' and 'If you are not with us, you are against us' but was that Fox News or was that Bush.

Jon Stewart's 'The Daily show' and Stephen Colbert's 'The Colbert Report' are beacons of hope. No!!! they are not sworn to broadcast the truth and nothing but the truth. They are programs on Comedy Central. What these TV shows inspire is a scant disregard for anything and everything. The whole idea behind these mockeries is to unsanctify the sacred. It is mostly politicians who bear the brunt of their attacks (Governor Bush vs. President Bush was a tickler) but the media hasn't exactly been spared either. Take this for instance or this. You can view many of their videos on their website. (I loved the recent one on the media coverage of Karr's extradition - 'Karr on a plane'. Watch it!)

I would be kidding myself (and bullshitting all of you) if I said that Comedy Central has given me a new perspective on global politics. Thats not what they are for (as Jon pointed out in Crossfire). By showing that these 'God-like' beings; politicians, actors, business tycoons, news barons and other celebrities, are mere mortals they pull the rose-tinted glasses from our eyes. They edify the importance of making our own informed opinions and to stop parroting the "truths" as shown on TV. There is a similar Australian program called 'Chasers War on everything'. Indian counterparts 'Movers and Shakers' and 'Naiyandi Durbar' were great too.

But the point is... Good or not... we need them!

Alaipayuthey

Lalita had asked me to do a translation of Alaipayuthey, Oothukaadu Venkatasubbu Iyer's composition on Lord Krishna (the same one used by Maniratnam and Rahman in Alaipayuthey). Reluctantly, I did. And though I can't say I am completely satisfied with the result, it's been good. So... do read and comment.

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My mind wavers, O! Kanna,
the joyous bewitching song of your flute.
my mind wavers, O! Kanna!
with your entrancing song

An unmoving statue I stand
time flies by and I know it not
Muraleedhara, the unknowable
my mind wavers

The clear moon blazes as a noon sun
my eyebrows arch, searching the horizon
the breeze brings your ripe melody
and my eyes dizzy, i feel strange

Delight me by granting the place in your difficult heart,
embrace mine, gift it sense and make it bloom
like the ray of the sun that merges with the roaring waves of the ocean
like the anklets in union, make merry

I call you thus with my heart wrenching cries
and you, you revel with other women.
Is this right? Is it proper?
Is it at all just?

While the flute plays, like the dancing foliage
my mind laden with sorrow
wavers, my kanna, it wavers
with your joyously bewitching song
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Lalita suggested flutters or ripples for the first phrase. 'wavers' maybe a tad inaccurate but I couldn't resist using it (given the allusion to wave). Limitations of translation, I guess. There aren't as many levels of meaning for 'wavers' , as it is for 'Alaipayuthey'. It cud be wanders (which is the fave reproof of my maths teacher before her pinched the arm). 'In turmoil' also appeals to me as does flutters and ripples. Any comments?

Inside Man

I know it is not a very recent movie and neither is the news that the title song for this 'not just another bank-robbery' thriller was 'Chaiyya Chaiyya'. Yup! the same one that Shah Rukh and Malaika danced to, atop a moving train. The same one that shot Shukwinder to limelight and Rahman to immortality (OK! Rahman was already immortal when he composed it).

Yes fellows! Rahman's Chaiyya Chaiyya was featured in 'Inside Man' and the heartening fact was that it wasn't played out in a 7/11 Convenience Store or a Taxi driven by a desi. I believe the track moved Spike Lee, the director of the movie, so much that he just had to use it. And he has done that without creating a cheap excuse for it.I wouldn't go as far as to say that I feel proud that Bollywood has gained any recognition because of this. Still... I just wanted to confirm that Chaiyya Chaiyya was featured in a Hollywood movie and express that I am happy for it.

BTW, the movie was very intelligent which means that I didn't understand half of it.

A while since the last poem

There was a moment – Fernando Pessoa

There was a moment
When you let
Settle on my sleeve
(More a movement
Of fatigue, I believe,
Than any thought)
Your hand. And drew it
Away. Did I
Feel it, or not?

Don’t know. But remember
And still feel
A kind of memory,
Firm, corporeal,
At the place where you laid
The hand, which offered
Meaning – a kind of,
Uncomprehended –
But so softly…
All nothing, I know.
There are, though,
On a road of the kind
Life is, things – plenty –
Uncomprehended.

Do I know whether,
As I felt your hand
Settle into place
Upon my sleeve
And a little, a little,
In my heart,
There was not a new
Rhythm in space?

As though you,
Without meaning to,
Had touched me
Inside, to say
A kind of mystery,
Sudden, ethereal,
And not known
That it had been.

So the breeze
In the boughs says
Without knowing
An imprecise
Joyful thing.

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From 'Fernando Pessoa: Selected Poems' English translation by Jonathan Griffin

A hairy tale

One of the most memorable moments of Tamil Cinema to me, was in Thillu Mullu when our beloved Superstar had to shave off his moustache to impersonate his fictitious brother. Nagesh, his friend commented then, 'It's just hair. Not your life'.

The importance associated with the caterpillar in the face is astounding. One of my uncles had a 'Ma Po Si' moustache (if you know what it is), that with age, turned a brown-grey resulting in his daughter naming it the 'shoe-brush'. Undaunted, he holds on to his treasure, grooming it with as much care as a pet. My mother would get a coronary if my dad took off his moustache. And a true husband that my dad is, he still keeps his, despite the fact that it is no longer lush and resembles something the rat ate and didn't like.

Traditionally, the moustache has been given far more importance in South-India than in the North. Southies saw moustache as not just hair over the upper lip. It was a symbol of manhood, courage and panache. Again referring to Thillu Mullu, it was also said that the bigger your moustache, the purer your heart was, which would, of course not hold true considering the celebrated whiskers of Veerappan, the dreaded sandalwood smuggler. But we have to give it to him, he had courage and panache.

For the Brahmin community it was a symbol of liberation from orthodoxy. I am told that when my father was a kid, to grow a moustache was a disgrace to the family. That is, if you had a clean shaven chin. So it was either no hair on the face or some face inside the hair. An intermediate state was unacceptable. Out of question. Needless to say, many people sported moustaches as a sign of defiance.

In the North, perhaps the influence of cinema deterred many from growing moustaches. Many actors; Amitabh, Rajesh Khanna, Rishi Kapoor, Shah Rukh, Aamir, Salman, Akshay and others were all clean shaven and the average North Indian idolised these people so much that they imitated their styles. I am not sure if I can make this sweeping generalisation but my Northie friends always associated moustache with Madrasis and mocked it (which is a whole different post)

Anyway this hairy tale is to inform:

Ladies and gentleman, I have news for you. I took off *wails* my moustache. I, who had refused to take my tache for a million dollars, believing that like Samson's hair, all my powers were in it, shaved it off to satisfy a curiosity.

Curiosity killed the cat and lost me my moustache.

Solidarity

I am not directly affected by the Indian government's ban of blogger. It is not that I am unaffected. If you consider that my trusted readership isn't able to access my blog or comment about my very insightful posts, there is considerable impact. Still, there are shortcuts and I got my regular quota of comments. So I have nothing to complain about.

So, I'll just share my sympathies with my fellow bloggers. I stand with you in your struggle to babble freely. (I'll also take this an opportunity to promote my blog. Unhindered by any government agency, updated for your reading pleasure... rkram.blogspot.com. Visit it today *echo* today today today dling ring)

I would dearly like to believe that the government has some reason for hindering access to blogs. I would give anything to believe that blogs posed a threat to national security. There can be several other reasons that I can think of for the government's reaction.

The most likely one is that the present government felt threatened by the growing popularity of, yes, *gasps* my blog. If I can sustain this momentum I would be the unanimous choice for primeminister by next elections and they needed to prevent that from happening. At any cost.

Also possible is that government has a tacit deal with blog hosts like blogger.com to popularise this alternate media. Nothing sells like negative publicity.

Another likely scenario was when Head of DoT went to meet the Chief of NSA. This particular chief was an avid blogger and was at that time reading an interesting article in blogspot during office hours (as most office-goers over the rank of managers do). He was so impressed with the blog post that he turned to the DoT guy and said, "I am gonna blog this". The DoT guy who was hard of hearing, heard it as "I am gonna block this". So he went back to his office, changed his blog from blogger to wordpress and then issued orders to 'block' blogger. And that my dear friends is how it all happened.

Booooommmm

Since my last post, some major things have come to pass, the bombings in Mumbai affecting me the most. Thankfully, my friends and relatives are safe. Still, my heart reaches out to everyone who has lost someone or something in the gruesome attack.

Having said that, the attacks opened my eyes (again) to how the Media has taken over our lives. If the media had chosen to ridicule the government, then we would be hearing how the police were tardy and how members of public were forced to begin the clean-up themselves. Now we hear the resilience of Mumbai and does it make a good story or what. It is not that I don't salute the mental strength of Mumbaiites but the way media went to town about how the train services were in full-swing the day after and schools and colleges with near 100% attendance sounded hollow and hackneyed (maybe it is just me).

There was a lot of anger which seeped into the blog world as well. There were people who wanted the UPA government to resign, others who wanted India to take pre-emptive action against Pakistan (and this when we didn't even know who was responsible for the bombing) much like Israel's attack on Lebanon. And there were letters written to the terrorist, which to me, appeared juvenile.

There were many who wrote about the failure of the intelligence community. I wouldn't go as far as to call them lax. Well! what can they do? In a city as populous as Mumbai, and a rail network as busy as in Mumbai, it would be near impossible to check everyone everytime. And infiltrating a terrorist organisation with deep roots is just as difficult.

There was a guest column by the Director of some agency against cyber-crimes in Rediff who tried to emphasise how effective the intelligence system is, in spite of not being able to prevent the attacks in Mumbai. In Quality Analysis terms we stand at 3.5-4 sigma, he said and I have to give it to the guy; he knew what he was talking about. I mean, even if you did your best, the maximum humanly possible, an inventive terrorist can break through all of it and cause havoc.

The stalling of the peace process with Pakistan, if it happens, would be the true victory for 11/7. Has it occurred to our policymakers that the intent of the attack may not be to prevent people from going to their offices; children to schools. Could it not be aimed at disrupting the progress made in bilateral relations? The politics and public-sentiment is all for knee-jerk 'blame it on them, they are like that' and 'We can't trust them. So no more talks'.

This is a test for the government. Can they go ahead with the peace talks without buckling to popular sentiment and the trappings of politics? Only time will tell.

Friendship: For sale

In the spirit of this fine post by Lalita, I wanted to add some amusing matrimonial ads. But I wasn't going to risk my friends seeing me browse through the matrimonials. Already I get ribbed enough for believing that 25 is not too soon to marry (Oops! Did I say that aloud?). Instead came across these in Rediff Classifieds. Apparently these people were looking for friendship. The ads range from the comical to 'Oh my God! I want to kill myself'.

Looking a Cute Beutiful Girl friend
My Name is Aamir khan. I am 21 Year Old. I am a Commarce Graduate. My Colour is Fare. My Hight is 5 ft.11cm.

Just because you have a name like Aamir Khan doesn't make girls swoon over you. Not with that English, anyway.

looking 4a life partner age40-45
male same as above
loving partner

And they say India is not a progressive country. See how we have an ad for a gay partner in Rediff. Or is it just bad writing.

looking handsam&sexy

I am sure you are.

i am from 21 year old and i blived in simple living and high thinking.

Simple living and high thinking. Where have I heard that one before.

I m a fun loving person, always want to meet new person it is who so ever.

And that would mean? (Lalita! This is a cryptic crossword puzzle. A gazillion dollars if you break it)

lookin 4frndship than can do all

Friendship does do all.

looking for human beings.

And I thought they were involved in an illegal trade of exotic animals.

32,Male, Copy / Script / Jingle Writer.Written 2 buks. Copywriter 4 Archies, Marks Cards, 2nd Buk Published.

I would hate to read that 'buk'.

Looking for N.babu from coimbatore

Hello! That's lost and found.

My friends calling ne Vinu I am seeking 4 good frnds.

Oops! Sorry. You were the fifth respondent. Better luck next time.

Vivartha

Recently stumbled upon a new venture, a Feature Tabloid for Chennai, Vivartha and it gave me another opportunity to don my (dusty) critic cap.

Apparently Vivartha in sanskrit means transformation. 'Be the change', they proudly extol. What change? Change from what? To what? I wonder. I mean that tag would work for a Political organisation, say , an off-shoot of Lok Paritran, bringing about social transformation and all. But for a tabloid. Seriously???

I mean what is this with obscure sanskrit names. And there was something about Krishna and Arjuna in Bhagavad Gita (enlightening with words of wisdom, no less) and Gandhi in their website that I couldn't make the heads or tails of.

Do we infer that they aspire to change the existing journalistic traditions? Of sensationalism, biased reporting and 'Page-3 obsession' of the media. I couldn't make out from their website. Still, we are talking a Tabloid here or did I miss something.

And from the looks of it, I imagine they focus on a niché youth market, what with Pink Floyd, 'togetherness' and bikes. So who is Pink Floyd?

So, what was that about 'Being the change'. There is enough change in Chennai without 'Vivartha', thank you. Do you know a cup of coffee costs 50 bucks? And an evening out a couple of hundred? Youngsters are aping the 'West' leading to a caricature of 'Pizza-munching, Brand-touting, accent-flaunting' delinquents who have no idea about the value of money or regard for their parents' hardships.

Perhaps, all we need is change, but in this direction!!!???

While I support any new venture, I would like to know in KISS terms (no construing this transformation or permeading like the morning sunshine), what they hope to achieve with their tabloid. I am not judging...so if they are going to say cheap thrills, debate on Nike or Adidas, mobile phone reviews, exclusive snaps of Brad Pitt and Jolie's kid and other Gen X stuff for the urban youth, I'll say Atta! boy! and maintain a distance.

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Update: One of the writers of Vivartha has responded to my criticism. I have put it in the comments section.

Sachin's century

A short-story I wrote few months back. Originally wrote it in Tamil and later translated it to English for my friends (and as an exercise in translation).
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SriRamaJayam adorned the top of the page and then she dated it (wondering if it was the first or the second). ‘Safe’, she marked it in the right corner of the letter - an augury that the letter bore no ill news and that it could be read without alarm and then the salutation; Dearmost Mum n Dad. What an antiquated custom! Just as beginning something invoking the blessing of Rama; writing; hand-writing a letter to the ‘worried’ parents. And this even after two-three years of marriage. This in spite of speaking over the phone at least once a week, a conversation which would typically go, “So! What did you cook today? Lady’s finger is cheap this season”. An antiquated custom, a tradition indeed. Her mother, on her part would write twice a month. Without fail. (She loathed the computer with all her heart and all my efforts to educate her to use the internet to send mails failed miserably. I have given up now).

Twice a month. The first one would arrive promptly on the 10th with the standard question - “Any good news?” and the second one around month end would question exasperatedly, “What do you two actually do?” and then in a more concerned tone, “Is everything alright?”

And I will, without chafe, reply, “No!”, “No!”. To both letters. Father would at times scribble at the end, two lines - “Be happy my child. My blessings”

Today, writing a letter is not a tedious chore. It is a delight. For there is news. Happy news. Not just a mere “Fine and hope everything there is fine”. My cheerfulness dripped in the letter as ink. A joyous state that words cannot express. But I continued.

Bhuvana writes thus with fond regards. I pen this letter today floating among a million stars. Emotions unheard of, unfelt before, flood my heart, my whole being. A rare experience, I have lived through. And felt the feeling of completeness. Content that I was born and have lived this life. Ecstatic as being crowned the Empress of all world.

Marriage, I have understood. It’s meaning. It’s significance. Nope! It is not what you think it is. I am not pregnant. Yet. (But I think I AM ready for it now). The cause for my thrill is Sachin’s century yesterday. Fear not; I haven’t become yet another cricket fanatic (Is Babu studying for his exams in between his cricket? His semester exams aren’t far - ask him to work hard!) Well! Sachin’s century was no mere century. It was a miracle.

This is what happened. Sundar was watching the match on the Television, having bunked office. And I figured some snack to munch through the game would be nice and made preparations to cook pakkoda. Chopped the onions, set the pan with oil on the gas and made my batter when I realized that the salt in my dropper was empty. Our grocery carton had arrived the day before and was in the top shelf, beyond the reach of my puny self. And it was heavy. Really heavy. So what could I do. I just called Sundar to give me a hand, as I always did.

And he came. Immediately. With a big smile and a “Whats up?” He fetched the carton for me. Opened the salt refill, poured it to my salt-dropper, spilled it, cleaned the spill, teased me, cuddled me, tasted the batter for salt (praised the magic of my hands), asked if he could do more and then went back to his cricket.

Little did I realize until then that Sachin had been batting on ninety-nine. The cheer of the crowd and the loud voice of the commentator from my neighbour’s TV informed me that Sachin had indeed reached his century. That moment when the whole nation of a billion circket fans waited with bated breath to watch their hero attain the ton, that moment I had stolen from Sundar. And all for some salt. Salt that could have waited. Folly! Oh! What a wretch am I!

Still, without the slightest hint of hesitation, without pleading for another two minutes, without keeping his eyes, ears and heart on the match, and without just fetching the box and rushing back, Sundar had come. O! That moment. That gesture that proclaimed, “My silly girl! You mean more to me than anything in the world. What is Sachin and his century worth to me? Is cricket important? No. It is you, my love. You and your salt dropper. You and your onion pakkoda, the smile on your lips, and your happiness”.

In that moment I was enlightened with the vision of life. And of love. I understood the import of the word ‘intimacy’ in a relationship. That fleeting moment I caught the glimpse of a ‘soul mate’, my soul-mate. Buddha’s Bodhi tree, this Sachin’s century. I realized that a spontaneous deed, a spur-of-the-moment expression of love is more precious than a million rehearsed confessions of love; gifts, songs, poems, ‘love-you darling’s and ‘miss-you sweetheart’s. What can temper tantrums and morning bouts of yelling do to us now? Love. We love.

Anyway, shall talk to you on Sunday. Same time. Take care.

Regards,
Bhuvana

Saroja Ammal, proud homemaker of the last thirty years, laughed. Derision. “Sachin, salt-dropper, pakkoda* and intimacy. It is disgusting. More than two years since they got married and they can’t even have a child yet. Soul mates. Bodhi tree. What crap!”

Ramabhadrar, retired bank manager shed tears. His heart welled with pride as did his eyes. My daughter! He sent a prayer to bless her.

His wife carried on. “This generation! Bookish folks. They read some fancy philosophy and psychology books and keep blabbering about intimacy and soul-mates. My God! Only He has to save them. Enough!” and then ordered, “Sit down for dinner. It is about time for ‘Sorgam**’. Don’t want to miss the beginning. I’ll serve your meal”

* pakkoda - a snack made of besan and deep fried in oil
** Sorgam - a popular TV soap in Tamil Nadu

Dear Diary???!!!!

Diary!!

How many of us have at some point or another maintained or attempted to maintain a personal diary? Almost everyone, I would reckon. Why? Granted, its a great experience to read ones own diary years after we write it and take the much touted walk down the memory lane.

Sometime back I read a few pages of my 2001 diary. I enjoyed keeping one then, in spite of being in hostel. My friends (should I continue to call them that) broke into my room once a week just to read my 'personal' journal and later made fun of me at the most unpropitious of moments. Grrrrrr.

Now I got to laugh at myself; how many totally-insignificant-now things meant a lot to me then and how I had rued or rejoiced them. Oh! The innocence of those growing up years lost now in the hard cynical world.

Diaries in addition to being nostalgic devices, I am sure helped me improve my writing skill - even I can't stand to read/write the same things everyday, can I?. So 'woke up at 7' became 'it was 7 when i woke' to 'the day dawned at 7' to finally 'the alarm screamed at 7 expelling all remnants of the jasmine fragrance of a wonderful dream'. Cool, uh?

And its a good mental exercise to keep a routine, form a habit.

But...

But maintaining that acquired habit takes some will power (like quitting the bad ones) .

Then one fine day, I decided that great men don't like being (and shouldn't be) fettered to boring routine - and I quit attempts to keep up my diary. So here it is, out in the open - I am lazy to maintain a diary.


P.S. And needI add, I am surprised that I have maintained this blog for over a year now.

P.P.S. This post is not a continuation of the previous one and any similarity is purely conincidental

Procrastination

I took Procrastination 101 in college and the teacher would walk in everyday and say, "Yeah! We'll do something tomorrow"

-Russell Peters in Show me the funny

Be a sport matey!

I am scared to admit it. Being in a sport-obsessed nation now, I am truly terrified to admit that I am not too big on sports.

Fitness apart, the singular aim of all sports seem to be meaningless pursuit. Oh! I did stay awake till 4 in the morning watching the World Cup opener. Still!!?? I can't imagine the 'silliness' of spectator sport. Soccer, undeniably the world's most popular sport is just running after a ball. And one person with his nose at the right place at the right moment, bingo! a match is won. If you believe taking a round, air-filled rubber from one end of a green patch to the other is why we shed the leaves-skirt, shame on you.

And Cricket, the most popular sport in the Indian subcontinent is sinful waste of good time, considering it is the only game I know of with a lunch break.

Spectator sports has its own heirarchy. Golf as you may all agree is at the bottom of the chain. Next being motorsports. You have to be made of some special stuff to sit through 50 laps. Round and round and round. Geez!

Soccer/football is very near the top. Still, I think Cricket is better than Soccer with regard to spectator interest. I mean, the trouble with football is that being low scored, (or at worst no scores), there is less to keep the fan thrilled. Very little happens for the majority of the match when compared to cricket where there is a boundary here and a wicket there and scores like 250-300. If only cricket took lesser time (the 20-20 is a positive step in that direction) it can become more spectator-friendly.

Given my constraints of time and love for big-sounding numbers, my vote goes to Tennis. It doesn't take all day. There are an awful lot of points to score. One silly mistake and the match isn't a goner. One can lose a set (or two) and still win (did you watch Kuznetsova win Vaidisova from one set down). And it is far more refined than any of the other sports. Take Rugby for instance. I don't know what cruel pleasure one can derive from seeing man maul another man, punch him in the stomach and drag him around like he was a rag-doll. Some sociologists have gone as far as to tell that contact sports like Rugby and Boxing needs to be banned and are strange reminders of a barbaric past. Not so surprisingly, I agree.

While we would frown at a Roman mob watching and relishing a gladiator fight and butcher another person to death and call them savages, we fail to see that these sports are the same. Maybe less brutal, but still savage.

(A Rugby player died yesterday after he sustained injuries to his head during a game three days ago. And here is the messed up part, his father says "He played the game they play in heaven and now he's there". What the f*ck?????)

Everytime an Indian fan howls that we don't have the animal-spirit to win in the international arena, I am actually happy. (I know it looks like a case of sour grapes but seriously). I think as a society we have shown sophistication. Our emperors did not (I hope historians reading this piece agree) conduct public spectacles of violent debauchery and spectator sport was near non-existent. Sport was an activity of leisure and a pursuit of fitness and was given no other status. While we still fought wars and warriors were respected and honoured for their skill, it is not the same as sports. At the height of its civilization, India did not initiate an Olympics, it did not construct a colloseum. We didn't lose out on anything, did we?. I am proud.

Flash-back

The post I should have written two weeks back... in screenplay

*Red carpet. Stage. Blinding lights. (Imagine Oscars). Dressed in tux clutching the 'ONE YEAR' trophy in one hand and my speech (written by a jobless student) in the other*

Me: Ladies and Gentlemen! I am so honoured to be among you with this award. This means a lot to me.*Choking with tears*

*Takes a spotless white kerchief from an inner pocket and dabs at the face - feelings maaa!*

Me: I have enjoyed writing in this blogsite and I can't tell you how proud I am that somebody, other than my dad and the friend I bribe chocolates to keep visiting my blog, actually reads them.

*Joke! Can also be considered as being modest*

*Camera pans to crowd where three people are seated, two of them ogling... the third*

Crowd: deafening applause. (remember two is company...three is a crowd. well! I take my sayings seriously)

*Camera pans back to the stage where I am still standing, furiously turning the paper. The egghead speech writer has forgotten the 'I wish to thank so and so and so on' part*

Me: I don't know how many people I should be thanking today. Thank you all of you who think I owe you thanks. I declare to my faithful readership that I'll continue to blog as long as I have you people to support me and entertain, educate, enlighten and eradicate you with this blog (never mind the flow).

*Raising the li'l statuette like it was a tea-cup or a wine glass*

Me: To more years of blogging

Crowd*gasps*: Oh! No!!!!!

*The crowd becomes company and then becomes solitary and ends up as nothing*

*curtains*

Much ado about something

Had a terribly long argument with a friend of mine who felt that Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code needs to be banned as also the movie. His reasons were 1. Dan Brown is being insensitive to the faith of millions of Christians by writing a work of fiction about Jesus. 2. He is being dishonest in presenting fiction as facts and thereby misleading his readers.

I can accept point 1 partially in that people of faith are tender and can be ticklish to barbs at them and do not take them well. The argument that writers or film-makers cannot attempt to do the same thing for other religions (remember the Prophet Cartoons) and take for granted the Christians is also sort of true. (A similar argument has been used by Tam Brahmins whenever they are depicted in movies, need I say abominably)

As for his second point, while I accept that for someone ignorant of the true history of Christianity, whatever Dan Brown has written reads like the 'truth and nothing but the truth', thereby misleading them and misrepresenting Christianity, I am not sure if it is a bad thing. I mean, if he succeeds in getting people to accept a concocted story as naked truth, then he has succeeded as a writer, right? Is there dishonesty involved? Doesn't the writer explicitly state in selling his book under 'Fiction' that it is not entirely about 'Historical Facts'. Is he responsible for the readers' gullibility?

One of my favourite books is Kalki's Ponniyin Selvan. A historical fiction that took the little information we had from Rock-Edicts and palm-leaf inscriptions and went on to weave a classic of epic proportions. I swear that Vanniyathevan was the most charming man on earth, Arulmozhi Vermar, the most regal of men, and they walked thus and talked thus. Did they really? We don't know. It was so credibly portrayed that you begin to believe that it is true. And that is where the writer shines.

And I must add that Dan Brown has tried hard (and blatantly at that) in not taking an anti-church stand. So why all this hullabaloo. On an aside, would all these organisations squeal even a meek protest if it wasn't such a successful book.

P.S. Watched Da Vinci Code yesternight and I must say it wasn't very satisfactory. Could have done better.

And they call this justice

Update: Just read this on IBN. Amazing interview... reminded me of Mudhalvan where Arjun grilled the CM. Hon. Minister Arjun Singh fails spectacularly in making his point. 28/05/06

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A friend of mine sent this mail titled 'And they call this justice' and it sent my blood boiling.

Ant and the Grasshopper

CLASSIC VERSION
The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks he's a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away. Come winter, the ant is warm and well fed. The grasshopper has no food or shelter so he dies out in the cold.
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MODERN VERSION
The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks he's a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away. Come winter, the shivering grasshopper calls a press conference and demands to know why the ant should be allowed to be warm and well fed while others are cold and starving.

BBC, CNN, AAJ TAK, NDTV show up to provide pictures of the shivering grasshopper next to a video of the ant in his comfortable home with a table filled with food. The World is stunned by the sharp contrast. How can this be that this poor grasshopper is allowed to suffer so?

Arundhati Roy stages a demonstration in front of the ant's house. Amnesty International and Koffi Annan criticizes the Government for not upholding the fundamental rights of the grasshopper. The Internet is flooded with online petitions seeking support to the grasshopper. Opposition MP's stage a walkout. Left parties call for "Bharat Bandh" in West Bengal and Kerala demanding a Judicial Enquiry.

Finally, the Judicial Committee drafts the Prevention of Terrorism Against Grasshoppers Act [POTAGA]", with effect from the beginning of the winter. The ant is fined for failing to comply with POTAGA and, having nothing left to pay his retroactive taxes, his home is confiscated by the government and handed over to the grasshopper in a ceremony covered by BBC,CNN, AAJ TAK and NDTV. Arundhati Roy calls it "a triumph of justice". Koffi Annan invites the grasshopper to address the UN General Assembly.
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I know that the mail was in jest and I take it as it is but I need to point out that the poor are not poor b'coz they, like the grasshopper in the original story sat through summer enjoying a song and mocking at the hard-working ant. They work just hard if not harder than any of us, corporate executives, bank managers and software professionals.

And Arundati Roy, Kofi Annan or anyone for that matter, advocating the cause of these poor people do it b'coz as a society we have failed them, actually robbed them blind. The analogy therefore is simply untrue.

I just wanted to indicate that as 'informed' people we should not make such hasty and insensitive comments. We don't have to join these people in the fight. Lets atleast not trivialise it. In truth we are leaches thriving on the blood of these 'grasshoppers'. Let us not take an air of superiority b'coz we got lucky in His roll of dice, lucky enough to be what we are.

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One year in blogworld. WoooHoooo!!!!

Academic success

The HSC results are here and the excitement and anxiety of this period has urged me to write this post.

Indians worship academic success. Competitiveness is a desirable aspect of a populous country as India but the over-emphasis on academic success somehow irks me. You have to be a 'First class' to be respected and Non-engineers were of course pitiable creatures, unless they were Chartered Accountants (first attempt). For students there is no time as traumatic as the ensuing weeks. The 'results' are to be declared. And it could make or break your reputation and your family's.

I remember a family who lived next door to my aunt in Trichy. The son did not score the 95-odd percent that was expected of him (his father was an acclaimed Maths professor and considered by many as a genius) and the whole family mourned it for weeks. They felt so ashamed that they stayed indoors and it was said the mother cried inconsolably for days. Passers-by would drop in and share their sympathies with the aggrieved family. The boy didn't score centum even in Maths, they would gossip, must be God's punishment for some sin. What a heinous crime they must have committed to deserve such a punishment. And it was not like he failed, he just didn't score 95%.

When my own results were due, I was terrified (inspite of the brave facade I put) that I would bring great shame upon my family if I did not get at least respectable marks (what exactly is respectable I leave to the readers).

Living in an apartment complex, there were many inquisitive (read nosey) maamis and maamas whose main job was to know everything and share their infinite wisdom with all and sundry. Even before the results were out, there were gossips circulating that my poor marks were due to some of my vices (which I am not going to share with my readership). By the grace of the Almighty I didn't have to live through that nightmare. (Later gossip wondered how inspite of all my vices I managed to fare well in the exams).

Grace of Almighty and power of prayer - surely. Went to the temple everyday, chanted all the shlokas I knew, learnt a few more and did Ramayana Parayanam, etc. etc. (walked around Vadapalani Murugan so many times that I could consider it a substitute for gymming). My parents did more - prayer and fasting. And so did my uncles, aunts, first cousins, second cousins twice removed, friends, neighbours, our vegetable vendor (Kaai Kaari) and maid servant. Power of prayer, indeed.

Still, I did not get into any of the 'premier' institutes and that immensely pleased the nosey maama maamis and fuelled their speculation. Again, what is premier, I leave it to my readers.

Much is to be said of these maama-maamis. For instance, their memory. They were walking-talking databases in the period after the results are declared. They knew everyone's total (on 1200), MPC, TNPCEE cut-off, ranking, what colleges they have chance in given the trend from previous years and in which department (Electronics and Computer science being hot cakes). They will dazzle you with statistics from the last 5 years. In fact most mothers of my fellow-students were like that. Thankfully for me, my parents did not join this notorious breed of number-crunchers.

Which finally brings me to the point - the prevailing perception that you are pretty much useless unless you are from the premier institutes puts enormous pressure on our children. While academic success needs to be lauded and encouraged - failure is not necessarily the end of the world and this needs to be emphasised/imprinted in the psyche of our student and more importantly the parent community.

More politics

Shashi! I apologise.

Many of you may already be aware that Lok Paritran has split in Tamil Nadu. If the election results were disappointing for a different reason then this is devastating. That favouritism was present is discernible, given the coverage given to Santhana Gopalan in Mylapore (and none of the other candidates as much) but I viewed it as a political strategy thinking that they are focussing all their energies on one possible win.The allegations of the other contestants, Mr. Elanthirumaran and Mr. Rajamany speaks volumes of the capability of LP as a party in managing people and issues. (It is not a bad thing per se - they will learn from these mistakes and evolve in to something better). There are far more greater hurdles on their way. For instance the allegation of the hidden agenda of Mr. Rajpurohit. While I accept that Mr.Rajpurohit 'may have been' a member of a Hindutva organisation and no longer is, he needs to be clear about it. What was it about Caesar's wife.

Read Sudhish's take on it. A balanced and optimistic analysis of the affair.

Some of the detractors of Lok Paritran are actually doing a great service by pointing out areas where LP has to improve to win the confidence of its people. LP is taking a lot of flak on maintenance of its website, its window to the net-savvy world, its woolly Manifesto that aspires everything but promises nothing concrete, and so many other things. These are all issues that they can work on over the next few months. I think they need to take the guidance of experienced thinkers (I am not talking politicians here) from Academia, Industry and the general public who have brilliant ideas to improve society but find it impossible to swim against the tide of political opposition and apathy on their own. The only difference that LP can show from other political parties is if they have a clear, doable agenda with their position on all important issues put in black and white. I hope it happens and LP brings professionalism to politics. LP or any other political movement.

Cup

A cup of woe with a lot of spicy sambhar. Read this

A few musings

1. Like many, I am very disappointed with the TN election results. For one, I was hoping that Lok Paritran would do better than what it did. Of course I would totally agree that what they did achieve is worthy of praise. Everyone knew that it would be extremely difficult for them to win even one of the 7 constituencies (life is not Aayutha Ezhuthu) but I expected more support from the general public(surprise winner of 2006 elections- Vijayakanth's DMDK. Come on!!! LP can do better for the people than any **MK) . They got 690 votes in Chepauk. And Santhanagopalan has repeatedly pleaded with Chennai voters for a turnout of atleast 80%. Nope, can't do.

2. And voting down Jayalalitha, to me simply means the Tamil voters have not changed a wee bit - always dissatisfied and always voting against the party in power. Fine! but do you really think it is going to be any different with DMK. And next elections, they will vote ADMK into power. And keep alternating like this forever. Bah!

3. Politics aside, I had some bad news from India - a friend of mine was being forced into an arranged marriage. She has pleaded against it with her parents but they simply want her to marry the guy they have chosen. Her dad spoke to me on the phone and tells me 'We finalised her marriage. Will you attend it?'. Apparently her consent doesn't matter (she doesn't even know the guy's name and is simply NOT INTERESTED). What troubles me is that she has little choice. What is the alternative? She can run away from home, which would bring great shame on the family and devastate her parents. She doesn't want to do that. Take a stand, do sathyagraha, not eat, cry, which is not going to work. Emotional blackmail works - which is what her parents are using right now, threatening suicide if she doesn't comply. So what is the alternative????

4. Amidst all this bitterness, something good - Sujatha's new Ganesh-Vasanth series has begun in AnandhaVikatan - 'Silvia'. Read it this morning and I am so looking forward to it now, I can't wait for a week to know how 'Silvia' goes. (I am very impatient when it comes to weekly series but the thrill of waiting to know what happens adds to the joy of reading)

TN Elections - Post-post

The elections are over and with very few incidents. The Exit-polls (CNN-IBN-Hindu) have surprisingly shown a win for DMK led front. And I was led to believe there will be no anti-incumbency wave by reports in Rediff and Hindu until then. It is true-the Tamil voter keeps alternating between one of the Dravidian parties.

What has troubled me though are the voter turn-out figures released by the Election Commission. Again we have seen poor showing by urban dwellers when compared to people in suburban and rural areas. Why???, I wonder. Is it that they are indifferent to the state of affairs or do they have issues in getting time off to vote. I am not sure if Private companies are required by law to give the day off and if they did. As a recurring trend it is quite intriguing.

It is compulsory to vote in Australia (and I guess in most western countries) and maybe we need to enfore it in India as well. We can't continue to have less than 60% voting in the cities (despite giving an option for void vote). This just can't be allowed to continue.

P.S. What will happen to LokParitran whose hope was firmly placed on higher voter turnout. We'll know tomorrow.

A crisis of culture

Came across this very insightful and incisive comment in, where else, The Hindu.

The author, Mr. T.M.Krishna begins by suggesting that we need to change the name of India to Bollywood and bemoaned the sad truth that the only icon that represents us, Indians, the only example of our cultural and social diversity to the wide world outside has become Bollywood.

This thought has often intrigued me when I am out with Australians. There was this one occasion when I was in a Ball, dressed in Traditional Kurta-Pyjama and an Australian guy walked to me and asked me if I was from India. As soon as I said I was, he started talking about how colourful the costumes, sets and dances in Indian films were (and how incredibly gorgeous Aishwarya Rai was). Another close friend of mine insisted that I should invite her to my wedding so she could see for herself the (perfectly choreographed) dances that are an integral part of Indian weddings. She refused to believe that I didn't know to dance and that most Indian weddings did not have people dancing, perfectly or otherwise. Bah!

It is true. Taj Mahal, cow-worship, Kamasutra and Gandhi and now an addition to their list of Indian-things, Bollywood. On a tangent, April was Bollywood month in SBS, Australia. We had an Indian movie screened on every Sunday night. Five movies. Can you guess the list? Easy. Devdas will have to be there. And Lagaan. What were the other movies - Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam, starring Aishwarya Rai, Kuch Naa Kaho, starring Aishwarya Rai and Satish Kaushik (no mention of Jr.B) and ofcourse the Baadshah of Bollywood's Main Hoon Naa. Point to note - India=Bollywood and Bollywood=Ash and Shah Rukh. The other film industries, i.e. Tamil, Malayalam, Bengali, etc. do not even exist.

Back to the topic - the point that TMK articulates in his commentary is that we have confused modernisation with westernisation and as a result we are in the danger of becoming culturally and socially shallow. Homogeneity of culture, alas! does not reflect the greatness of being 'Indian'. Our greatness, necessarily lies in our diversity.

The solution is thankfully doable. He asks us to educate ourselves and our children about the cultural diversity of our country and to be aesthetically awakened. I think its a fair thing to ask.

Reservation

The government stand on 'Reservation' has been on the news the past weeks. No points for guessing that I have my reservations on the need for reservation - in principle. Reservation is a long standing issue and has been hotly debated 'for' and 'against' over and over. While I am all for debate and consensus, the unilateral decision by politicians without much consultation of academics/ students/ industry leaders, solely for the purpose of winning support of a large faction of people is untenable. Almost undemocratic. Protests have been on ever since Mr.Arjun Singh suggested his new reservation policy and it is my personal feeling that Presidential intervention is necessary - given that our President was an academic himself and is wired on the response of the student community. In this regard, I am pleased to note that a petition has been submitted to Dr.Kalam with 1.7 Lakh signatories. This, just from the 'United Student' front. Imagine the opposition for the policy. All we can hope for is that public opinion in this matter is heeded by the top brass and failing that, the President has some authority to bring it to a referendum.

Less than a week to go

Next Monday this time... things won't be the same. Well! Actually nothing much is going to change. Or is it? I don't know. All I know is that elections are near and I so miss the Prannoy Roy and his team of psephologists sit in a circle and yap all day on the news channel. The surprisingly contradictory poll outcomes that each channel would forecast will remind us of a great saying by a Sidhu, about miniskirts. And heaps of fun; the whole build-up to the elections. Never mind that the denouement is almost always anti-climactic. Still...

Despite sounding repetitive, I have to say that I am rooting for LokParitran and I am hoping (fingers crossed) they will create some impact. 'The Axe' should uproot the villainy of the world as did Parusurama's and let the news of hope and goodwill be drummed throughout as the harbinger of better times.

But the Axe is only as strong as the wielder and the drum nothing without a drummer. May there be strong people to support LokParitran and its cause.

P.S. Just one more week to go and my parents aren't even aware that LP has fielded a candidate in our constituency. I was speaking with my mom yesterday and she was like... "Well! I would most definitely vote for LP if only someone was standing for election here. I think they are contesting only from Mylapore and Chepauk. There is this Santhanagopalan in Mylapore. Very smart young chap. Saw him on Headlines Today".

And my mom is pretty up-to-date on the elections news front.

Dude standing in T.Nagar, if you want a vote from Vadapalani, you have to, repeat, just have to, go canvass and make known that you exist.

All that glitters is gold

I was in the Gold Coast last week and believe me when I say its the best place on earth, ever.

The theme parks were fun. I can see you guys squirm. Not a big fan of theme parks myself. Can you believe it when I say that I have never been to VGP Golden beach. I was in Chennai all my life and I have never been there even once when my cousins from Mumbai and Delhi go there every summer. The only time I was ever in a theme park before was 'MGM Dizee world' and it was so crowded and so hot that I don't have a fond memory of it. And the rides - I believed that only fools loved the rush of adrenalin and go for life-threatening roller-coasters. (euphemism for I am terrfied of the rides).

Eeks! not me. But quite unbelievably, I actually went on and loved the roller coasters in the MovieWorld (dad, if you are reading it, I know how proud of me you are). OK! Loved is a big word... didn't puke and didn't curse my friends is as good as it gets. WB MovieWorld is good fun for those who like movies and for those who like rides. I especially loved when Neo and Trinity walked past me. (It was like they were visiting the Matrix and at any moment would turn to me and say, "Do you think it is air that you are breathing?")

And the Police Academy Stunt show was hilarious. (The show before the actual stunt event was the best silent comedy I have seen. That guy could give all the Jim Carreys and Mike Myers a run for their money. That without even speaking a word)

Sea world on the other hand was more about marine life and though there were a coupla good rides I would say it is mainly for the dolphin and sea lion show, shark feeding, polar bears and the kind. (Again a few people did the Shark Diving - I wouldn't swim with a shark if someone gave me a million dollars... and why the f would someone pay to go swimming with them is beyond my grasp)

If you think that the theme parks was all that was to Gold coast... noooooo.... the best part was the beach. The sand, the waves, the surfers around, the little kids hoping to catch a wave (and the hot chicks tanning themselves) it was everything one could hope for in a beach. Wait a sec... I still wish they had MulagaBajji there. OK! other than that it had everything. We had fun in the water like crazy enjoying soaking ourselves in the warm water (Canberra is already freezing).

We were camping at a place not far from the Gold Coast (in Springbrook national park) and they had some amazing walks. The Purling Brooks Falls and the forest around (is it tropical rainforest, I wonder) were scenic and calming. I would love to stay in a place like that for a coupla months and write a book.

We did drive by Brisbane and what I have seen of it is good - loved the river and the ferry service. You can take a day ticket for just 5 bucks and sit in a Cat all day, travelling between UQ and North Brisbane (Cat is short for Catamaran...i.e. our Kattu Maram. But it is kinda sophisticated..like Muligatawney soup which I am told was Milagu Thanni)

Didn't have much time to go around Brisbane but for the Queen Street Mall (with their frightfully expensive designer labels) and Mount Cootha (for a night skyline view). Ofcourse for a trip like this (we drove from Canberra), the company matters and my friends were fantabulous.

It was, as I said before, the best place I have been to... until next time... is it NZL????

Cinema and Politics

Flower and bee, lotus and sun, salt and pepper, mop and detergent and now... Cinema and Politics.

OK! OK! I accept. Its not just now but since Arignar Anna masterminded this alliance. We have had Anna, Kalaignar, MGR, Janaki (correct me folks! was she ever a chiefminister) and Jayalalitha as our state heads - all of them with a cine background. Include, T.Rajendar, S.Ve.Sekar, Napolean, Sarath Kumar in the list of people representatives. And by no means is this a phenomenon pecuilar to Tamil Nadu - Sunil Dutt, Amitabh, Jaya, Raj Babbar, Arnold Schwazzerneger and Ronald Reagan being the other notables. Now Vijaykanth is an aspirant. Lets not even get started about Rajni. Rajni's leanings can topple governments. (maybe not now - but remember he could and he did)

Add to this the bandwagon of film/television personalities who actively participate in election campaigns and making considerable difference by their presence. Personally I have nothing against a Simran or a Nagma or even a Mumtaz campaigning - I mean it is a democracy and all. But the way cine industry has become a stepping stone to political glory is truly indigestible (remember Nassar in Avvai Shanmugi asking Kamal for a acting role so he can become the chiefminister).

I can well understand if Coke or Pepsi wants Vijay/Surya, Simran/Trisha to sell their products. Do our political parties need them? And what does it say of our political parties?

Its my humble personal opinion that cine artists are way too over-rated as election symbols and more so as politicians. While I admit a Vijaykanth may be no worse than a Thirumavalavan or Ramadas - I would be heaps happier if a Vijaykanth does what he is supposed to, first - entertain. This whole thing about a on-screen hero turning into a 'friend of the needy' points out how Tamil people have been drugged with fantasising. You don't agree????

Tamil Nadu Elections update

Lok Paritran has decided to contest in 12 seats in the forthcoming elections in the state, six of which will be in Chennai. No surprises here as they have a greater chance of wooing Chennaiites than say Vridachalam, where the erstwhile Captain is soliciting votes successfully if we have to believe Sudhish's account. LP is also contesting from Rasipuram in Salem district which is kinda surprising. Rasipuram, ofcourse is famous for producing State-Firsts year after year in the HSC exams. I wonder if that has got anything to do with LP's decision - a town that takes its education seriously is more likely to vote for a party like LP. I guess.

The alliances (some shameless and some merely oppurtunistic) and seat-sharings are behind us. Anyway with election promises varying from the outright silly (colour TV for all families) to unlikely (free electricity) to positively probable but incredibly difficult (interlinking of rivers within the state), the elections promise to be interesting. Chennai, especially will be interesting to watch.

Anyway I hope that all the political parties will involve themselves in debates of policy than mudslinging contests. Seriously ppl, we are not interested in how many people you or your kith/kin slept with, whether you are 'true' Tamil blood, your views on Kushboo's views or how many pairs of sandals you have/had.

The Tamil people have historically alternated between DMK and ADMK, swinging from one to another. However, there is a general optimism with Amma's performance at the helm of affairs that it is quite likely that she may return to power. But its too early to make any predictions. Lets wait and see what the opposition has up its sleeve. I do hope that Amma (or whoever comes to power) doesn't commit the same mistakes Mr.Chandrababu Naidu did - concentrating all the development work on one city, and do give us a well-governed prosperous Tamil Nadu.

Fool

Fools day was past and he was happy that no body managed fooling him. Keeping yourself locked in a closet helps. And as midnight stuck he came out of hiding, satisifed with his achievement. Checked his missed calls (none), angry messages (only one - from boss), etc. Logged on the internet, checked his mail and read a few blogs. And thats when he came across the Lazy Geek at rkram.blogspot.com. Ram, an old friend of his had written a blog review praising LG this and that. Curiosity is what killed the cat, you see, he wanted to see it for himself and came acorss this blogpost at LG. Google Romance it declared was being introduced. Readers may well know by now that this person was a big-time sucker (I mean who in the right mind would hide himself in a closet to stop others from making a fool of him) and immediately wanted to find his soulmate. He, needless to say went to the Google Romance website and tried uploading his profile (in which he was smart, handsome and sensitive). And this is what he found - 'Profile Upload Rejected'. He felt incredibly stupid and his only consolation was that he wasn't fooled on the 1st of April (like being fooled on other days doesn't matter). Too bugged to go to sleep he switched on the tele to watch the late-night news. The pretty newsreader announced, "Daylight savings came into effect today. Viewers are reminded to set their clocks an hour back. The ACT Emergency services recommends that batteries are changed in all smoke alarms today. The time now is 5 minutes to midnight..." He didn't hear the rest.

A lift

If the tale is to make any sense you should read QT119

The story from the other end:

She had offered him a ride home. Something she had never done before. But he looked like the right guy to give a lift to. Tall, handsome. Well! Not really. But he had a nice smile. And seemed like someone who wasn't the everyday guy you meet at work. In the car she liked his blabbering nervousness. His discomfiture. A change from the suave and smooth James Bondian guys she had met before. Terrible weather, he discovered and she nodded. What a lame piece of cliched conversation. Terrible weather indeed. Then he burst, nice shoes, pair of good legs and blah! Then he made the cardinal sin - I don't fancy you, he declared, you are not my kind. Her face fell, a deflated balloon. Do I take a right here? Iciness in tone. He got out mumbled some thanks and ran indoors. She drove to her own lonely apartment. Why can't I have a decent relationship with someone nice? Am I a nice-guy repellant, she cried to herself. I don't want to see another human for the next ten years.