A lonely night

The cold winter night was at its bitter best. But thankfully the cold blanket was calm and not being blown about by wind making the cold prick. The white snow blanket on the ground made the city seem like an oasis on white sand desert. He walked in no hurry, devouring every ounce of the winter night’s beauty. Though his mackintosh was pulled tightly over him, he felt the chillness in the air on his face. His nose had the reddish tinge. He walked slowly along the banks of Tyne, admiring the twinkling lights and the monuments built along it. The bridges stood proud illuminated with twinkling colourful lights, inviting the passers by to stop and admire. He admired and walked about, to nowhere in particular.

The serenity was only broken by the occasional pub he passed which had the gentry drinking and making merry. “Holiday season is the best”, he thought, “so vibrant and abuzz with activity yet comes with peace of mind”. The bend on the road along the river brought him to the city church. ‘Make poverty history’ claimed a big banner on the church. “Huh, Impossible”, thought he pessimistically and walked on. Right there at the corner, the tramp with a saxophone and a dog sat and was trying hard to reproduce what sounded like a Kenny G. He didn’t care tupence about the beggar who was sure to drink with his money. He walked on, caring for nothing else but not slipping on hardened snow patches. The fun part was to leave your footprint on the soft snow which hadn’t been trodden upon. The continuous snowing soon made your footprint disappear giving a chance to another pedestrian trying to have fun.

The ‘Pitcher and Piano’ was the place he thought befitting to mull over things. The slow music, the view of the Tyne and the bridges wearing white garb was the perfect way to spend an evening alone. All he could see inside the pub was some couples in cosy corners, a few old timers sitting and talking over pitcher of Guinness. He ordered a Stella and was soon lost in thoughts with strains of music reaching his ears. “A lonely night but, beautiful”, thought he.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Though I am not the person who celebrates Christmas, I have listened to various carols and Christmas songs from school days. ‘Jingle Bells’ was, and I suppose still is the most common and mass favourite song. There are many other which I like viz ”Rudolph, the red nosed reindeer”, “Santa’s coming to town” etc. But the one which tops my favourites list is the one following. It is BEST to hear when sung by Bing Crosby. I finally managed to get a CD with Bing Crosby singing this and have been listening to it over and over again. Here are the lyrics when you wish to sing along with Crosby –

Oh, the weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful;
And since we've no place to go,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

Man, it doesn't show signs of stoppin',
And I brought me some corn for poppin';

The lights are turned way down low,
Let it snow, let it snow.

When we finally kiss good night,
How I'll hate goin' out in the storm;
But if you really hold me tight,
All the way home I'll be warm.

And, the fire is slowly dyin',
And, my dear, we're still goodbye-in';
But as long as you love me so,
Let it snow, let it snow and snow.

---- Instrumental Interlude ----

When we finally kiss good night,
How I'll hate goin' out in the storm;
But if you really grab me tight,
All the way home I'll be warm.

Oh, the fire is slowly dyin',
And, my dear, we're still goodbye-in';
But as long as you love me so,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

Have a Merry Xmas and a very happy new year all of you!! Cheers and make merry!

Greenwich

The trip to London was as good as the previous six jaunts. When the alarm sounded and told me rise & shine on a Sunday, I was only happy to get up. I was in London and all set to feast my eyes on this metropolis where modernity mingles effortlessly with history.

The only tourist place I hadn’t visited before beckoned me and I did give in, Greenwich. From London Victoria station, the tube took me to the remarkably well built and stunning Canary Wharf station. Canary Wharf is where the skyscrapers are built in London, a contrast to the testimonials of the old architecture elsewhere in London. The sky kissing glass edifices of Citigroup, Barclays, HSBC etc. stood like stalwarts right outside the station gleaming at the passers by. A huge LCD screen was constantly getting updated with the latest world news right in front of the Reuters. The coffee bar next to it was bustling with activity. I was to catch a DLR train (Dockland Light Railway) to Cutty Sark station. Cutty Sark station gets its name from the one of the last sailing clippers which is permanently docked at Greenwich.

Winter time is when sun bids goodbye to Europe at around half three in the afternoon. The most valuable thing in winter is daylight and I had to make the most of what was available. After a considerable time at Cutty Sark, I made my way to National Maritime Museum and Royal Observatory. Museum boasts of exhibits of importance from the British naval history, in short, it encompasses Naval History in an enclosure. Behind he museum is the road flanked by trees whose leaves had been stolen by autumn. The twilight made the scenic surroundings etch a permanent picture in my memory. The orange glow among the trees only enhanced the beauty.


The thoroughfare led to the Royal Observatory which stands on a hillock. Though the building wasn’t all that impressive, but it still is considered the holy place when modern astronomy is the religion. The Prime Meridian passes through the observatory. It is marked by a brass strip in the courtyard where the cameras were clicking with everyone trying to sit on either side of it. The new addition, a bright Green Laser, shines across the London sky, for us to view the imaginary prime meridian. Standing on zero degrees Longitude…half of me on the eastern hemisphere, half on the western hemisphere, the London skyline was nothing less than captivating.

A few quiet moments and some photographs later, I was ready to call it a day, and a good day at that. Hopefully, the lazy me will sleep allowing me to write about the other places in London and the neighbourhood visited.

London Sightseeing again..

Me off to an xmas party at 'The Trocadero' in London and will be roaming around London again. I never seem to get the enough of this exquisite and fantabulous city. There will be a travelogue soon. Read the travelogue when I visited London for the very first time, here.

Cheers.

Blog Sins

A usual question thrown at me if I ever ask for a topic to blog to non-blogger friends: “Why blog when there is nothing to blog on?”
Ah, BlogGod, forgive these ignorant non-bloggers, they know not what they not doing!

Blogger’s block oft rears its ugly head in bloggers’ brains.But the thought of sinning may remove blogger-block in no time. Ergo, here goes.
The preacher Dinesh iterates the sins of the blogging world. The number of sins committed decides on whether your blog rots in blog-hell or enjoys sunny weather in blog-heaven’s beach resort.

1. Numero uno, there is no reason to own a blog and not blog. It’s a cardinal sin to have a blog which isn’t constantly updated. Sin #1 is not updating your blog at regular intervals.
2. Secondly, copying blogs from other blogs is one of the biggest sins you can commit. This can be equated to murder. Nobody forces you to blog. So, if you’ve got itchy hands to copy, better wash your hands with soap, rather than bootlegging someone’s blog and calling it yours.
3. Agreed that your blog is what you want it to be, but there is no reason that you just crap in your blog with posts having neither head nor tail.
4. There are always topics for you to blog on. Complaints of not finding topics to blog on, is not reason good enough in BlogChitragupta’s / St.BlogPeter’s blogs to reduce your sin count.
5. Another felony you should refrain from is using it to demean others or other’s blogs. Yes, you can post your views but in a decent manner, downright dirty is not the way. A corner seat in Bloghell will be reserved instantly if this is committed.
6. Comment spamming other blogs will lead to nice spanking by the blog-demon in blog-hell.
7. Last but not the least, cauldron full of hot oil awaits you if you disrespect ‘desi-bloggers’.

There might be many more to list and missing out on blog sins is again a small sin. Thus, I need bloggers’ help to make a comprehensive guide of blog-sins. An acclaimed blog-jury will decide on what to add and as a special prize, a place in blog heaven can be reserved :).

Cheers

Touch Down India...Home..yay

'Home sweet home' and 'Home is where the heart is'. Absolutely true; to the letter.

When I heard I can go home for 15 days whenever I want, my joy, as they say, knew no bounds. In this case, knew no international boundaries. A sudden barge of phone calls from my phone went out and I am sure I kept the phone lines busy for quite some time to myself. My flight tickets were booked....Ncl-London-Mumbai-Indore. Perfect. And flying in Virgin Atlantic would a new experience. But the thought of spending one night doing nothing in Heathrow airport on the way back, I decided to switch to combo of BA and Desi Jet Airways. Jet international was awesome, terriffic and brillinat. Very much comparable and better than few international flights of non-indian origin. Only song playing in my mind en route - 'Yeh jo des hai tera, swades hai tera...tujhe hai pukaaraa......' :)

A function(sathabhishekam) at home, marking grandpa's 80th birthday was to be celebrated and I was right on time. A surprise for parents. A scene cut out from K3G, SRK jumps down from private copter and rushes home just in time for aarti(final pooja ritual for the day). Just replace, SRK with me, private chopper with public plane and huge palatial bungalow to a humble abode. So, right in time for everything. So, I don't think I will be blogging for another week or two. Busy vacationing at home...you see.

Cheers.

1983 - The year when history was made

I could not resist the temptation but to blog these pics I was able to lay my hands on. I was two years old when history was written in Indian cricketing world. A new religion was made in the land where already religions are aplenty. The match was won by then-underdogs overthrowing the then-mighty Windies was like attaining Niravana for the nation brimming with cricket lovers. Without further ado, let me put these pics, a magnificent memorabilia of the 1983 world cup finals.

Though, a picture speaks a thousand words, here goes a small description of the pics above -

(Top to bottom, L to R)

#Mohinder Amarnath's patient innings of 26 helps India move steadily towards a total of 183.

#Final Moments! Kapil Dev snares West Indies tail-ender Andy Roberts lbw to leave India on the brink of victory.

#A huge crowd charge into the ground to celebrate the victory and the Indian team race out. History was made!

#Delighted supporters throng on to the Lord's pitch to join in with the Indian celebrations.

# Kapil Dev Praaji shows off the cup to delighted supporters

#Man of the match Amarnath and India's captain Kapil Dev share a joke during the presentation ceremony.

#India's team and management revel in their unexpected triumph over the West Indies.

# THE GLORIOUS TEAM:
1.Kapil Dev 2.Sunil Gavaskar 3.Mohinder Amarnath 4.Sandeep Patil 5.Yashpal Sharma 6.Roger Binny 7.Madan Lal 8.Syed Kirmani 9.Balwinder Sandhu 10.K Srikkanth 11.Kirti Azad12.Ravi Shastri 13.Dilip Vengsarkar 14.Sunil Valson Team manager: P R Man Singh

Hope the history repeats itself in 2007. Looking at the cuurent form, as BBC says "Ruthless Indians are trouncing Srilankans", and if the form continues, we sure will have another World Cup on BBCI medal shelves and love for cricket will touch new heights. Hoping for 2007 World Cup....

Cheers.

Bhooooot

My flatmate is out and will be out this week. I am all alone in the apartment. And to top it all, it is Halloween Week. Never really mattered before, but there’s something different this time. Maybe I’ve been in India all Halloweens where we barely knew when this ghost-fest of the west came and went. This time I can see Halloween masks and costumes and blah-blahs being sold everywhere here in the UK. I also managed to bump into a grumpy kid at Tesco on Friday who looked like he just finished his debut movie with the Ramsay bros. Don’t ask me the reason for his grumpiness, but I guess the Ramsays’ might have got his character killed before he got to suck enough ketchup (a.k.a blood in the movies).

Not that I am afraid of ghosts or believe in these what I presume are ‘awkward manifestations of human’s over-imaginative mind’, but the incident to be described sure ran a chill down my spine. On the uneventful Friday night (luckily, date wasn’t 13th), I sat munching crisps, watching TV like the usual couch potato fatsos (yeah ok ok.. I am one too!). The incessant channel navigation didn’t help much because all they could show on the 18 freeview channels were Rosemary’s child, Dracula, The Loch Ness monster, The 100 scariest scenes of all times and similar freaky stuff… nothing mild nothing comic, no good movie. In short, nothing worth whiling away time. The sleep monster in my yawn and droopy eyes took control and led my legs to the bed where I slept instantly, I guess.

When the arrival of next afternoon broke my sleep, I could hear noises from the living room. I swear, there was no one in the house. I went to check out and behold, the TV was on and so was the light. I like to think of myself as energy conserver and I was sure, I had switched off the TV and lights before I went to bed. I looked everywhere in the house including the vacuum cleaner and geyser closet, but nobody was there. For half an hour, I was shocked on how this had happened. Like everybody, I attributed it to my sleepy state, and went about the task of whiling away that day. Went to a friend’s at night and got back home after a movie. Doubly double checked that TV and lights were switched off before I went to bed.

Next morning at 11, I still heard noises from the hall. Whoa…there really was a ghost in my house. Clutching the little Hanuman statuette, I went to the living room and found the telly ON. Brr….chatterrrr (those were my teeth)…and my vocabulary fails to explain the electricity sort of thing that ran down my spine.

I bet there is a ghost in my apartment which loves to watch TV and does not pay for the electricity. I have informed the Ghostbusters Inc to take out that bugger before he starts eating my food and wearing my clothes too. Till then, I am staying clear of my apartment.

[P.S.: People in UK, please set your clock timing back by one hour for daylight savings. Do set it on your TVs as well but make sure you don’t mistakenly set the ON TIMER, atleast not for early morning. ]

Patjhad ke Pattey

Patjhad ke in sundar patton ki vyatha ko chand panktiyon mein simatney ki koshish -

Patjhad ka mausam aaya.
Os ki boondon mein bhigey paate,
Kuch patte lal, kuch peeley pattey.
Lal jaisey zameen choone ko hon tadaptey,
Peeley ped se girney ke darr mein jhooltey.
Patjhad ke ye lal-peeley pattey.

Patjhad ka mausam aaya.
Din ki dheemi thand mein thiturtey,
Tehniyon se zameen ko ghoortey.
Chalti pawan ki madad se,
vriksh se bandhan todtey pattey.
Patjhad ke ye lal-peeley pattey.

Patjhad ka mausam aaya.
Chinar ke punch trikoni pattey,
Har aakaar, har prakaar ke pattey.
Pichley saavan ke murjhaate pattey.
Aglee bahaar na dekh sakengey,
Iss Patjhad ke laal-peeley pattey.

Joblessness is the mother of acidity

An alarm goes off at morning seven thirty. God kill him who created an alarm clock, and God bless him who put the snooze feature in that, it lets me sleep the ‘heavenly five minutes more’. After quick morning ablutions routine, a glass of milk and on the go marmalade sandwich, I catch the waiting cab. Hmph…finally I make it to office at nine. The cute, wrinkly elderly receptionist has a fruit basket with fresh fruits without which my never-full tummy keeps asking for more breakfast.
Yawning, I reach my desk. Open my inbox .Any mails/ comments for the blog? Aah…there they are, read the mails and reply if not forwards. Reply to the blog comments. Now, its 1030 hours and I see, I still am not asked to do anything. I slyly watch my manager from corner of my eye. He is checking his gmails and hotmails and trying to evade the eyes of his juniors. But my eyes catch it. Now, I come out of my compunction of not having any work for the day. In short, its a jobless day.

1045 hrs - First colleague pings from the floor above.
Colleague 1: Chal yaar chai peetey hain. (Come dude, let’s have a tea)
Me: :-D Beshak (Sure)
After 15 minutes of tea break which includes a walk around the campus with a hot cuppa espresso, I am set for the next 45 minutes of joblessness. Now, open the news sites. Read about the happenings in India and the rest of the world. Browse BBC to check whether or not London is doing fine after the bombing and if beer is still flowing like Thames after Ashes win. Open browsers for regularly read blogs and desipundit.

11.30 hrs -
Colleague 2: Mate, wanna grab a cuppa?
Me: Okay, if u say so.
See, I am nice person. Never do I say Nay to anyone. ;-)
Another 10 minutes go in tea break, this time a hot chocolate.
1245 hrs -
Colleague 1 & 2: A coffee before the lunch?
Me: But of course…
1315 hrs –
Colleagues 1,2,3,4,5 – Lunch…?
Me: Anytime u say ppl !
After a lunch which again has an end with a coffee and a small stroll I am back in my seat. Three more coffee breaks, if not four, make their appearance between lunch and 1730 hrs. Then it strikes: Acidity. I cringe. Man, one more day of jobless day in office and my mammoth stomach can be reduced to ashes from inside by tsunami sized acid waves....so I think I shall stop coffee addiction.
A cry from the next workstation: Hey Din, Get up...wanna get a cuppa.
Me: Aah, okay..wait up..just finishing my blog..

Sarve Janaha Sukhino Bhavantu

This mail is being forwarded by everyone to everyone in India.

"In the middle of 1965 India-Pakistan war, US govt - then a close friend of Pakistan - threatened India with stopping food-aid (remember "PL-480"?). For a food deficient India this threat was serious and humiliating. So much so that in the middle of war, Prime Minister (Late) Lal Bahadur Shastri went to Ram Leela Grounds in Delhi and appealed to each Indian to observe one-meal-fast every week to answer the American threat. As a school boy, I joined those millions who responded to Shastri ji's call. I continued the fast even when the war was over and India became self sufficient in food. Hurt deep by the national humiliation suffered at the hands of the US govt, I had vowed to stop my weekly fast only when India starts giving aid to USA. It took just 40 years. Last week THE day arrived. When Indian ambassador in Washington DC handed over a cheque of US$ 50 million to the US govt, two plane loads of food, medical aid and other relief materials were waiting to fly to the USA. Time to break the fast? With no bad feeling about the USA, and good wishes for the Katrina victims, this humble Indian feels proud of the distance India has covered in 40 years. Let's celebrate a New India!"

And why not, this is a big deal for a country which is only 58 years old. 58 years is but a threshold of adolescence when what we are talking about is a country. The largest democracy where implementing any idea immediately is a mammoth task considering the geographical size and mammoth diversity, this is an achievement for sure. Indian economy has reached all time high and the sensex has touched 8500. Though a slow start in a socialistic way, Indian economy started rising from 1991 and in barely any time it stands as the tenth richest nation in the world with 200+ countries.

2005 is the year of natural disasters, the year of mass deaths and mass cremations. With all my wishes and condolences for deceased and relatives, I am happy to say India is in a position to help itself and others in need. Let India continue its stride towards further progress.

A wish for all affected by Pak and India earthquake, Katrina, Rita, Tsunami et al:

Sarve janaha suhki na santu,
sarve santu niraamaya ha,
Sarve bhadraani pashyaantu,
ma kaschid dukha bhaak bhaved.

Jai Hind.

Bloggers score....IIPM sore

This is but a fight for freedom of speech. It is appalling to know that Rashmi’s blog has been attacked and Gaurav had to quit his job because he expressed his opinions on the net about an organisation, rather just put a link to an article in a magazine. If it was simply for defaming IIPM, they had the right to send a legal notice. But when this was factual and with proofs coming in from various sources, this was not the right thing to do. My impression of con planman was wonderful when I had heard his speech in Indore Management Association few years ago. I was sure, that this guy is here to make it big. I never knew, he was going to make it big by toying with students’ future.

If only had IIPM let the sleeping lions (read ‘we the bloggers’) lie and passed the article as JAB(just another blog) posted in JAMmag or on any of the blog sites, they would have been happier. Now this JAB has become ‘The Blog’. IIPM has joined the war of the blogs by creating their own blogs which as of now are straight away trashed by real bloggers.

Hats off to our Blogger Community! A pat on the back for Rashmi and bravo Gaurav!

Surely, Pony tailed fellow, this is what happens if you count your chickens before they hatch.

Crossroads

Yet again, the crossroads I meet,
where to turn and beat the heat?

A wrong turn will take its toll,
until lady luck gives me a call.
Right one shall propel me high,
shall ride on the stars and touch the sky.

Too many cops,each showing a different way,
whom to rely upon, none would say.
Battle of life has to go on,
to win is what I am born.

God, Almighty, aloud I pray,
let me trudge on the ideal way.
Help me opt for the perfect path,
or withdraw the crossroads along my path.

Mr S and demise of the frying pan

Prologue
Mr. S, the software engineer, has come on an onsite assignment to the United Kingdom. An onsite assignment, every software engineer’s dream, turned into a reality for this ‘good at coding’ guy. He was sure that he could sustain here with his culinary skills. But with the untimely demise of his frying pan, he soon found out that Cooking, though approximately spelt like Coding, isn’t actually his bowl of curry (read cup of tea).

The story
S got a call about his house being broken into. The smoke alarm had brought the idiomatic roof down with its constant bellowing. He rushed from the office just in time to see the firemen leaving the place. He loitered around outside for the last of the firemen to leave, for saving his ears from a good piece of mind, that they would have given him. S slowly entered the building to see few neighbours watching from all directions. He saw the broken door. His dear door which stood gallantly protecting the house lay shattered at his feet. The firemen’s axe had completely axed it par recognition. With a gulp in the throat, he went inside.

He was aghast seeing the messy state the kitchen was in. What the hell happened in here? Why were the kitchen walls black with soot? Then the gore reality dawned on him. The Frying Pan was gone!!!

Of all the things, they had to take the frying pan! He was damn sure that he had kept the curry in the frying pan for heating it. The stove had promised him of a ready curry when he arrived from office. And he had promised the stove to be home for an early dinner. Both looked cross eyed at each other. Stove remained mute as usual and he did all the talking. He sat and mourned the loss of his frying pan, the one which had given him a taste of wonderful curries. His mourning was interrupted many a times by curious neighbours popping in and asking him about the happenings. To be courteous, he had to re-tell the story to even the neighbours he barely met before. They were as shocked at his loss and preached of some sort of silver lining to clouds stuff. He couldn’t make out the connection though.

The rigours started early next day. The insurance forms had to be filled, numerous calls to be made and infinite other chores to be done. S choked and eyes welled up when they told him, he’ll have to say a different reason to the insurance companies to part with their money. For the insurance money, he never could mention, that his frying pan got fried cause of his negligence. He realised how bad the world has been to frying pans. He is determined to get frying pans their rights and he is conspiring with frying pan dealers across the world to achieve this noble motive.

All this happened couple of months back. S still misses his favourite frying pan. This is but a bi-monthly ceremony article I publish here, for all to pray for the “Frying Pan” and pray God almighty to give S the strength to find solace in his new frying pan.

To this day, the burnt out frying pan, lies unattended in the ‘charred’ section in ‘Reading Fire Brigade Station’, a thirty minutes drive from London.

In the name of S, frying pan and the holy curry....Amen.

Gandhi

Last year on this day, I asked a 9 year old kid last year, ‘Viv, What’s on Oct 2 every year?’.
Pat came the innocent reply, ‘Yipee, a school holiday’.

Has October 2 reduced to being merely a holiday?

I can sure dust off Vivek’s answer as being just a happy reply from an innocent kid. But the thought stuck and I have read a little about Mahatma from then, comparing the vast amount of information available on him.
I have always seen people criticising this man, the man who was one of the chief architects of India. From what I have been gauging from the major percentage of the critic populace is their ‘lack of information’. To form an opinion, one ought to keep enough facts, figures and statistics as their pedestal.
Some blame him for the partition. I pity them for their historic quotient deficiency. Mahatma was never in favour of partition. Mahatma fasted for more than ten days as a protest in Calcutta against the idea of partition. Mahatma added the lines ‘Eeshwar-Allah tero naam, sabko sanmati de bhagwan’ in an already existing hymn minus this lines. He believed in equality and this can be read in any acclaimed life history book on him. Some accuse him of being the shrewdest politician. He apparently never wanted to be involved in politics. He went to a village and lived in a hut but people flocked around and it came to be known as the ashram.
To err is human and so he would have too. He has also been pointed at for calling off ‘Non-cooperation Movement’, a severe bullet wound in Brit arm. I am not assuming anything as I could not get a hand on the reason for this. It would be wonderful if anyone of you could enlighten me of the cause for calling off the movement, other than of course the Chauri-Chaura incident.

In Gandhi’s own words, “I am used to misrepresentation all my life. It is the lot of every public worker. He has to have a tough hide. Life would be burdensome if every misrepresentation had to be answered and cleared. It is a rule of life with me never to explain misrepresentations except when the cause requires correction. This rule has saved much time and worry.”

A very respected Principal of my school always said, "Read about the great men history has left for you to learn from them. Keep the good and discard the rest, for they too, were humans".

Two many 1's - F1 vs A1 !!

The latest form of an old sport has commenced. This novel idea is christened A1 Grand Prix. The A1 idea tries to take into consideration, the so-called cons of Formula 1 and market it as their plusses. Surely it makes sense to me. The motor sport has now become a country’s affair like any other major sport like cricket and I like that.

In F1, fans like me (Don’t mistake, I still will) used to side with conglomerates and our favourite car makers. One Indian in the field and our eyes were on him throughout, though keeping in mind you favourite team (surely that will not be Jordan). If just one Indian there, renewed our interest in the sport and got the people oblivious to it, watch the sport. Imagine the interest generated, if Team India was in the race. This is where A1 comes into picture. A1 gets the patriotic fever into play. Now, the fans can cheer for their country and blame the driver for his bad driving..;-).

The F1 cars need car-loads (pun intended) of dough to maintain and improve. No doubt, they are mechanical and technological marvel, fastest machines on land. This is something truly admirable but it is a race of mechanical and technical brilliance, combined with skill and aggressiveness of the driver. An understanding of basics of automobiles would increase the audiences’ interest manifold. But not many are interested in the nitty-gritty.
A1 cars on the other hand are equalised technologically and will not be as fast as F1 cars. They will need barely a tenth of the money spent on F1. This is the race of drivers, of the human skill and bravery as the official site puts it. I am sure, there will be more car-flips, crashes and it will be fun to watch. (Oh what a saddist..lol)

F1 is only for an advantage for huge conglomerates. Developing the cars or sponsoring them made, already popular companies like Ferrari, McLaren, Renault etc. a very active player in the world market. And if team XYZ are the winning team, that’s the sweetest part of the cake and XYZ is bound to get the lion’s share in the automobile market.
On the other hand, A1 is about a medium for national and international brands to endorse themselves on a global scale. This is great for brands like MRF, JK Tyres etc. to compete with Bridgestone, Michelin and Pirelli. Likewise the other sponsoring brands can vie for their place across the world.

While our F1 driver Narain Karthikeyan finished fifteenth in his Jordan in the Brazilian GP, Alonso won the first ever championship for Renault, making himself the youngest driver ever to win the GP on 25th September. Narain has reasons to lose – Not a great car and he is a rookie among experts.
Karun Chandok, our A1 driver flipped his car and ended coming 25th in 25 contestants race. He was fifteenth in the qualifiers (called Sprint Race in A1). Excellent start I must say ;-). I wish Chandok luck and hope he wins because he has no reasons to lose in A1 – all cars are the same and most of the drivers are rookies. So he better gear up!!

On the whole, I think the idea is good and we get to watch three high-speed, high-octane, adrenaline pumping grand prix (s / es….whatever the plural is) - F1, A1 and Superbikes.

See you soon. Vrooooom….

Update: My first blog to feature in Desipundit. Thanks Desipundit for the honour.

Summoned by Success

The toil you put in day & night,

sheer dedication throughout your life,

When course is clean and obstacles few,

Then Success shall summon you.

Take your chance,

get the attitude right.

Take the plunge when the time is right,

when opportunity knocks, take the cue.

Then Success shall summon you.

The storm will stop and the wind will blow,

make your destiny and life will glow.

When you fail, start anew,

Then Success shall summon you.

The key is persistence, they always say,

have a foresight to save dismay.

Find the almighty within you,

Then Success shall summon you.

Cheers

Popeye's mom found

They have just found Popeye's mom i.e Pappy's wife. The photo was specifically released by Paramount Pictures when their intelligence team found her in one of the tobacco hideouts in Marijuana district of the Cocaine district. When asked, "Why she was hiding all along?", pat came the reply,"I yam what I yam". No wonder, that's Popeye's favourite saying.

Pappy and Popeye's joy knew no bounds and they burst into the song -

I'm Popeye the Sailor Man
I'm Popeye the Sailor Man
I'm strong to the finich
Cause I eats me spinach
I'm Popeye the Sailor Man

I'm one tough gazookus
Which hates all palookas
Wot ain't on the up and square
I biffs 'em and buffs 'em
An' always outroughs 'em
An' none of 'em gets nowhere

If anyone dares to risk me fisk
It's "boff" and its "wham", un'erstand
So, keep good behavior
That's your one life saver
With Popeye the Sailor Man.

I'm Popeye the Sailor Man
I'm Popeye the Sailor Man
I'm strong to the finich
Cause I eats me spinach
I'm Popeye the Sailor Man

Cheers for Popeye

Bangalore Woes...ToI thinks of something

There are numerous fellow bloggers talking about Bangalore’s dilapidated infrastructure on Indian Blogosphere for sometime now. There have been demonstrations by people, criticisms by who’s who, stickers on vehicles asking he CM to wake up et al. Nothing seems to have done any good.
In the article, there is no mention of conditions of roads, the overflowing buses for public transport but WOW, there is one line about traffic decongestion. I see, infrastructure is not top priority at the moment from this article.

Today’s ToI’s front page says they are “they are seeking short term executions to improve the Bangalore Infrastructure” and our ideas can be mailed to ‘peoplepowerbg AT indiatimes DOT com’. I am sure there will be hordes of mails from the bloggers. Hope this ‘short term execution’ ideas make a difference or at least throw a bucket of cold water on the authorities' face.

A Tribute to Hinduism

Incredible research done on Ancient Hinduism. 'A Tribute to Hinduism' is one of the best sites on the net. Couldn't resist sharing it with all. Do read it.

Cheers

Un-Grand finish to Grand Prix Season

Agreed, there are couple more races to finish the F1 season, but the outcome is already known. The spa circuit in Belgium gave all the answers yesterday. All Alonso needs is 6 points from either of the three forthcoming races.
Mike Schumacher – Being an avid Ferrari fan, I was disappointed this year. Yesterday’s match was nothing new. This time, as Schumi’s ill luck would have it, had to end the race for no fault of his. All he could do in his anger was to give a deserving smack on Sato’s head.
Takumo Sato – He is under investigation for his little misadventure which cost Schumacher his race.
Kimi Raikonnen – Hats off to him. An aggressive driver with a powerful machine showed no emotions on the track while beheading all the opponents. He won the race hands down and the 2 stop strategy worked really well.

Juan Pablo Montoya - Bad luck dude! A race winner for 32 laps but it wasn't his day.
Fernando Alonso – Kudos to the youngest ever Formula 1 champion! He has shown that grit and determination combined with a great car can work wonders. Michael Schumacher has been doing the same for last five years(Featured in F1 hall of fame). But the same man on podium and the same winner every time was making the sport lacklustre. Though a Ferrari guy, I welcome the change for the sport.
Narain Karthikeyan – Man, am I dejected. You bet. My joy knew no bounds when I first heard that one Indian, Narain, stepped into the high-speed world of F1. I was overjoyed to learn one Indian is at the helm of a Jordan car burning the rubber on F1 circuits. But alas! I guess this is the beginning and end of Narain’s career in F1. He did show potential in couple of the races initially and still shows his feisty form once in a while, but he has started drifting behind the pack. He may be the rookie who has completed maximum races, a record which he can claim as his own but that doesn’t hold good for his future.
I do not expect a podium finish but a decent finish and a position ahead rookie team-mate Montiero is all I ask for. The six car American GP, could have been so much better if Narain was on the podium instead of Montiero after the two Ferraris.
Next year, the Jordan team will be launching another driver, the current test driver as their main.Going by the championship points and aggressive driving, Montiero scores over Karthikeyan, which might raise Montiero to the driver’s seat in the one remaning car, God forbid.

Here’s hoping the best for Ferrari and Narain in the three forthcoming races and next season.

Cheers

Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan

How could I let 5th September slip by without mentioning Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan, the second president of India. The greatest of all teachers was born on this very day and thus we remember this day as ‘Teachers’ Day’. We usually forget these days which were made for a reason, for remembering our great heroes of the past. Day by day, the value of these "named days" (but for crap rose days, petal days etc.), thus the respect for our great leaders is diminishing. I wish the Indian blogosphere, which writes about everything under the sun, also writes about these great men once in a while and specifically on the day, which is named after the leaders of the yore. I bet there will be many who would have already thought of this. More about Dr. Radhakrishnan can be read here, and also hear his take on dharma. Just one line says what he preached about dharma – “Dharma is paropkara, adharma is parapeeda”.

Read what our now President, Dr. Abdul Kalam says on teacher's day here.

-Signing off with salutations to the great man

To swear or Not to swear....is the question?

Imagine a world without languages, I bet, u cannot. Now imagine a spoken language without derogatory words, and then think of its implications!!!

On the outset, one might argue, what the hell (pardon the pun) if there are no derogatory words, so much the better. But I disagree. Where there are humans, there is bound to be differences of opinions. Where there is mighty and there is a weak, there is bound to be oppression of the latter. As they say, “Everyone is someone else’s weirdo”, there are bound to be differences everywhere.

Now that I can safely assume, you are with me, about differences, I shall delve deeper into my thoughts about a language without offensive words. The foremost implication, I reckon, will be “violence”. As I believe in leading by example, I shall lead you into the gory world ;-) which will prevail, once the 'words' are removed from the vocabulary, with an example.

Any Indian would hate ‘India’ losing a cricket match, be it to Bangladesh or Australia, not to mention Pakistan. And every other match India is humbled. If it wasn’t for those abusive words in English and Hindi and numerous other languages in India, the opposite cricket team and a few members of our cricket team would have been man-handled and mauled par-recognition. “Holy effing shit, where did the talent the cricketers show on TV disappear when they are on the pitch?”, says the city-bred, convent-educated lad in the stadium. "Saaley kisney liya inn logon ko team mein, ‘highest paid cricketers in the world’…aur dekho kaisey kheltey hain", says another one, the local lingo-speaking guy. "&$^* &@* ko *&%$, ye saalon ko lao mere saamney, balla pakadna sikhata hoon", says the illiterate, over-enthusiastic cricket fan (If I typed in the actual words used by them, you will flag my blog for containing derogatory language ;-)).

Take this scenario and cut out the abusive words. There will surely be violence. Mild anger causes one to mouth abuses. There is an instant satisfaction of giving back, if one hurls abuses. But when the aggression gets past this and these words don’t satisfy, then violence breaks out. Thus, if we look at it from this perception, these “words” make a barrier, between the two involved parties. Erase the “words” and there you are, any difference of opinions or whiff of anger, bloodshed will be the only answer.

When I ask the people, why they use these words, rather than ‘let go’ or ‘ignore’. Some say, “Why should I let go, I give back whatever I get”. Some others wisely use a proverb and denounce violence by saying “Violence is the weapon of the incompetent”, but that answer does not justify hurling curses. The wannabe-yankees say “I ain't gonna take no shit”, that may be their reason to swear but grrrr…when are they going to learn, two negatives don’t make a positive in English.

I am greatful to the foul-mouthed, but good friend who constantly reminds me about 'how he cannot survive without swearing' led me to write this. I cannot think of any more implications currently. Leaving it here for you to ponder….

Cheers

Hummer

This beast on land, the meanest of land machines, always fascinated me whenever I saw it on screen or talked about it. Hummer is one of the most powerful 4 wheel drives ever to ply on the roads and on places where roads are a far cry. The power can be felt just by looking at the cruel machine. I was overjoyed on getting to see this mechanical monster (with commendable electronics within) in Newcastle Asian Mela. This was the best part of the mela apart from the soni-kudis from India and Pak.
The US army was looking for a High Mobility Multi-Purpose Wheeled Vehicle and AM general gave them the Humvee which was proven to be superior to all the existing 4 wheeled vehicles and the best man for the army’s job. Later it was named Hummer M998. I reckon the civilian model was introduced circa ‘92.
There is a specific way in which torque is distributed to all the 4 wheels in usual 4 wheel drive vehicles, mostly equal torque on each wheel. But in hummer, as soon as it senses a decrease in torque to one wheeli.e when the tyre might be slipping, torque is transferred to the other wheel. And there is a massive difference in the usual 4 wheel drive and the brake traction control system in hummer. There is much more to Hummer than this and I am sure I won’t be able to do justice to the sophistication of this genius piece of machinery.
I’m publishing my only snap with the hummer H2. Don’t mind my hairstyle, the barbarian barber cut my hair out to the point of making me bald, while I was half asleep and to think of it I paid seven quid for this hair cut….gawd.

Magpies vs Hammers

20th Aug 2005 -
The day I went to witness by first ever football match in a stadium. Getting up early on the saturday morning is usually tough but this day was different. After the rituals I had to perform this day (it being the next day of 'Avaniavattam'), chanting gayatri mantram for a staggering 1008 times... Man, wish I was this sincere everyday.
After a sandwich and coffee for breakfast, my usual saturday morning routine commenced...some hours of gaming on the xbox. Today, I thought of experiencing the football match before the actual match (does it makes sense...whatever). I started FIFA and chose the 2 teams, Newcastle United and West Ham. First match was me being NUFC and xbox being the West hammers and hammers hammered NUFC. There, next time, NUFC (me) made a pulp out of west ham. I thought one more play and by taking the best of the three, I can be sure of the outcome of the match. This time, I was West Ham, and as expected the magpies won and I was sure, NUFC would become 3 points closer to being champions in the champions league.

En route -
Left home for St. James Park stadium at noon. I was supposed to reach there at 1300 hrs. There was no problem finding the way to the destination as a major percentage of population of Newcastle city was walking in that direction proudly wearing the black and white striped t-shirt supporting NUFC to the hilt.

Brancepeth Suite, St. James Park -
Needless to say, the crowd was huge. At 1300 hrs, I went into Brancepeth suite (more like a 3 star hotel restaurant). This place was for sponsors, and thanks to the firm I work for, I had a sponsor's ticket. Only the elite were here, prim and propah ladies and gentlemen in thier tweed suits or dior shirts and trousers. Though, I felt a little out of place, I wasn't amazed that I managed pretty well ;-). Since, I hadn't spoken to any of my colleagues who were planning to come (none of them Indians), I could not find them and had to sit alone for the sumptuous luncheon to be.
A not-so-bad-looking brit stewardess came with a smile from ear to ear and asked for what drink I would like to have. After listening to list of numerous cocktails etc, I settled for a coke, and I am sure, the smile turned to smirk before she turned around to get my order. After a sip or 2 of coke, while reading the official NUFC football magazine provided, saw the main course had started. After a few minutes, I joined.
There were multitude of non vegetarian dishes, some looking delicious but concience said, "Venda Iyer-ae, venda....venda" and as usual, I never looked towards the non-vegetarian side again. All the brits know of vegetarian food is - mashed potatoes, jacket potatoes, crust potatoes, potatoes with cheese and so on. They also know about salads and boiled vegetables without salt and spice, sprouted beans and a thick, long rice where u can actually bite the rice grain into two.
So, with barely 3 dishes on my plate, while the others' plates were laden with animals in all shapes, sizes and colours.I regained my seat with my plate for lunch. Now, as they say, 'When in Rome, be a Roman', I had to eat like the gentlemen do, using the fork and knife, which wasn't a problem as always, till....till I had to eat boiled peas in the salad. How the hell are you supposed to eat boiled, tiny peas with a fork from a plate as flat as a football ground. Then, slowy and steadily, I mastered the art of eating peas with fork from a glazed football field. Half hearted and half-"tummied", I resigned myself back to the magazine with the glass of coke.
Wazzat sweet smell.....ah...desserts. Heart, stomach and brain raced my body towards the dessert table. Seven different kinds of mouth watering desserts awaited me. The sight of those aroused the glutton in me and I had all the seven to my stomach's and heart's content. If gluttony was a sin in Hinduism, I would have to be in the Ganges for a whole year to wash today's sin away.

Magpies(Newcastle United) vs Hammers(West Ham) -
The Milburn stand, where I was seated had an excellent view of the field. And my seat was very next to the centre of the field. There was a mammoth fan following cheering away to glory, all in black and white striped t-shirt supporting the magpies. A small but extremely lively swarm of Hammer supporters on the left were throwing plastic balls and balloons on the crowd and singing their, what I think was, west ham football song. The commentary before the battle commenced and during the half time break is worth a mention.
Amid deafening cheers, the players poured on to the field, and the maaaaaatch.............began.
Alan Shearer, the magpie captain and Teddy Sheringham, the West Ham captain were the favourite. People also were keen fans of NUFC player Lee Clarke and goal keeper, Shay Given. The match went on okay with underdogs West Ham putting up a good show against the home team. Almost half time and no goal scored....this angered me as this was my first ever football match in a stadium. The others were furious because NUFC were missing chances.
The burly man with a huge beard sitting next to me was bellowing at the magpie forwards for not converting the kicks from inside the D into goals. Mouth reeking of beer, he gave a pat on my back, and said in a heavily jordi-accented voice " Ay yooong man, who do you thfink takes thfree points today? ". Realising that he was a NUFC fan and also knowing that, a pat on the back is inches away from a kick in the butt, I said "Magpies". Personally I thought west ham did put on a good show, my 'staying alive' was my sole aim while answering him. He seemed happy with the answer and asked me to look out for his favourite Lee Clarke. The rest of the match was punctuated with his directions to the players on how to play –
"Cooom on man, u're in, u're in...hit the effing goal"....." Shall I send my grnadson to play for u a*****s"...."Argh...coom on, u twats, hit a goal, I dont wanna fret 'bout it whole Soonday" ,so on and so forth.
Much to everbody's dismay the match ended without a goal. I was saddened, that no goal was scored and I am not sure, when I shall watch another match of this sort. After a coffee and cookie in Brancepeth suite, I went back home with an Italian colleague. On the way, he talked about how good the Indian curries are, which I agreed fully and I also gave an okay status to Italian Pizzas.
Thus ended an eventful and memorable day.

Mr.Lazy Me and Mr.Me Myself

After around 7-8 months of thinking, whether I will find time and whether I can overcome my laziness for keeping a blog updated, I decided to just do it. There will be a tough battle between the two guys in the story, Mr.Lazy Me and Mr. Me Myself. :-) Let me see, if my laziness wins over me or I crush it for good.
Anyways, after a lot of blockbusters in the world, here is my own version - Blogbuster.
This blogbuster in coming days should witness a lot of travels, travails, truths etc etc.

Blogger bug blogger bug, blogging all the way,
Oh what fun it is to start blogging right away....

Cheers.

The rising need for introspection

13th August 2005 -

Saw the movie 'The Rising - Mangal Pandey', a man who rose against the mighty british empire in 1857, the flame which lit fire inside the Indians to wage the first war of independence, the hero who died for India. We need to show more of our national heroes to the children today. The historians should rise to the issue and do something about it. Hats off to film industry for attempting this.

Though this movie didn't match the hype cause of some extra unwanted songs and love scenes, it did strike a chord. The patriot in me was ashamed of me and my generation. Why don't we do something for our India...and as I know, 'We' includes 'I' and it has to begin with 'me'.

15th August 2005 -

I penned my feelings....

Here's hoping that these feelings which came on impulse(like it has done plenty of times before), doesnt wear off in due course, this time. I hope there is something which I keep doing for India, however small it might be, but it should lead to the betterment.

Introspection, being on the other side

Here I am, an Indian, in the very heart of Britannia,
working away to fill my personal coffers.
India, celebrates its 59th independence on this very day,
But people still looking west for better offers.

My heart aches, I am the like the rest,
following the trodden path.
Working for once foe while enjoying the best,
but India still gives me all the love it hath.

In pursuit of worldly pleasures,
I forget these are my best years.
Best years to do something for my place,
Best years to put a smile on India’s face.

Will I change, will I make a difference,
will I limit the self needs?
Will I stifle some of my dreams,
will I ever help the Indian realms?

Cheers.

P.S Added later - My thoughts of keeping our heroes alive in all Indian hearts has been very well written in this article in Telegraph.

London

This is an attempt to push forward the previous blogs written but never published... ;-p

Day 30 April 2005 - London

After making elaborate plans on the previous day for visiting London, we started with zest on the clear Saturday morning. After shelling out considerable pounds for the network card and all day London train tickets, we were aboard the train to waterloo. The train went to Waterloo and we were lucky to catch forty winks en route.

After disembarking at Waterloo and armed with the tube map, we turned to the underground tube to help us reach London Bridge station. As luck would have it, I got into the tube and the door closed behind me, separating me from my colleagues traveling with me. A scene cut right out from Dil Chahta Hai, placing me in Aamir’s place and my colleagues collectively as Priety Zinta(though they weren’t as scared!!). Luckily, the London Bridge station was a stone’s throw away and my friends reached there by the next tube in ten minutes. After a brief joyous reunion, we walked towards the legendary monument “The London Bridge”.

After a short walk through the streets of London, the historic bridge appeared before our eyes, proudly standing, connecting the two banks of the famous Thames. Standing on the worldly renowned bridge in the world’s one of the most famous cities made me feel like a famous person myself. After admiring the majestic viaduct for considerable time, we saw the HMS Belfast, the warship permanently moored on Thames. HMS Belfast boasting of being the best warship of its times, awed us too. The newly built City Hall is one of the best buildings on the bank of Thames. (Seems they spent around a million to select the unique name -'City Hall'...lol)

Next, the Tower of London beckoned us to witness the centuries of histories inscribed in the walls by prisoners and the artifacts, including the weaponry, barrels of gunpowder, life size models of he royal steeds and knights in their complete regalia. The Jewel tower had the world’s biggest diamond Cullinan and India’s own Kohinoor diamond studded in the Victorian crown. The live video of coronation Queen Elizabeth II kept our eyes glues to the screen to see the sheer majesty of her majesty’s elaborate ritual and to see the wealth looted from the world in centuries bygone.

The Bloody Tower made us shudder at the kind of torture, the prisoners had to undergo. The guide in the tower of London had us reeling in laughter with the English sense of humor whilst he explained the gore history of the very place we were standing. After hearing about the treasons, tortures, convictions, murders and executions in the Tower of London, our hungry tummies took us to the roadside shop where we had to eat and be content with some tomato and cheese put between two pieces of bread, they call it lunch…huh.

Thereafter, we went on the refreshing and splendid cruise on River Thames on board ‘The millennium of Peace”. The crew was very kind to explain the buildings and places we could see on our cruise on the banks of the majestic river Thames. The buildings ranged from interesting hotels (including ‘The Grapes’, where Dickens completed Oliver Twist) to HSBC and Citibank headquarters, various docks, floating pubs, Mayflower pub et al. En route, we were awed by Greenwich which gives us the GMT. We turned from there towards Westminster. This route also held us spellbound as we looked on the wonders of this ancient center of trade.

The London Eye, the biggest ferry wheel in the world, the brainchild of British Airways left us gaping. The view of London from London eye capsule was remarkable. Big Ben, the parliament, with its clock tower and gold crowning stood proud and gallant right next to the Westminster Bridge. An old man playing on his bagpiper in the traditional Scottish frock enthralled us for sometime.

After having a small meal at McD’s, we were back on our way to 'Reading'. A lot of London remains to be seen. That’ll be another day….

Cheers.
____