Drill - Scrape - File - Cut - and so on and so forth!
A couple of jabs to start with. Not effective enough. One more jab. Start chipping. Ouch! A couple of more jabs now, inside! Chip away. "I have reached the roots! Now I am removing these sensor heads here!" She did, quite painfully, but not completely I guess! "Now my colleague will do the filing."
The much younger colleague evidently took her art very seriously & artistically! She bent over almost into the now gaping hole & filed away with extreme concentration! Her exaggerated facial expressions from 6 inches away were quite entertaining! Occassionally she would frown if some part would not yield perfectly under her touch. Occassionally I would, if I found out that some of the sensor heads were not yet removed! She obliged by removing them! All the time, the helping hand was also there, using a suction nozzle to clean up the workspace. At this point the young lady went further in to start filling up the hole!
The first part of the operation completed, the earlier elder lady came back to take up the next tricky part. "I will have to apply much more pressure for this part." With the warning, she cut through the outer skin. Then she took up her drill, and started on the operation. But she soon figured out that the drill head was not big enough and went for a bigger & scarier instrument! I was more scared that the drill may slip and do immense damage to the neighboring structures which are still very useful to me! Occassionally she would send in X-rays with an instrument which looked like a Hair Drier and figure out the lay of the land ahead as one may say. It took her about 15 minutes to drill halfway through the thick bone-like structure, and then she pried at the remaining half! With a shark crack which sounded exactly like bones breaking inside my head, she managed to pry away the half. "Look at the size of this thing" she told me & showed it to me too! I smiled.
"Now I need to just pull away the ends." She did so too with extreme nonchalance. A couple of quick stitches & she was done.
"I will give you the instructions for the next few days now... You have been a great patient. Other people keep closing their mouths! I never thought we could get this done so quickly!" And she proceeded to reel of a series of instructions with the young doctor chipping in once in a while!
With no promise to be punctual in updating, I started on a new blog, which can be found here... All are welcome to visit & comment.
It's all about me being... "A" wannabe movie-maker trying out the different tricks of the trade, attempting to learn a little bit through first hand experience, and have some fun along the way..."
A new Blogger in the Blocks... She's witty, she's charming, newly venturing into the realm of writing... Ladies & Gentlemen... Please Welcome my dear wife... Swapna!
YouTube links: A Short Experimental Movie with a camera on a tripod used as a steadicam: The Chase Anupam Roy in a Preview Concert, a short "YouTube" version: Right Here
Full clutch, shift to first, inch ahead slowly, turn the wheel all the way to the right, carefully ease out of the slot. Stay in first, move ahead slowly crossing the bumps, one, two, three, then up the slope, slow left out of the gates, shift to second, accelerate as you turn right and straighten back on to the main road. This is where you floor the gas pedal. 20 to 40 in two seconds, shift up, 60 in another two seconds, shift to fourth, up to 80, shift one up again, and saturate out at a peak speed, others are getting a little jittery as the red needle threatens to cross into three digits! Straight, straight, straight, down the underpass, up again beyond the railway tracks, the needle steady at 100, then slow down into second, cross a bump, repeat the whole exercise.
My house is on the Outer Ring Road. If you like to drive, and are in Bangalore, Outer Ring Road is exactly where you should be. Of course I have done the track, I mean road, hundreds of times on my Thunderbird. The Fiat Palio 1.6 Sport is a whole new experience altogether!
Sporting a 100bhp engine, the Palio 1.6 Sport is just the car I used to dream of. And of course, since it is a sports model, it has to be red. The Sales executive at the showroom boasted that this was the only car which came in Formula Red, supposedly the colour of Michael Schumacher's car. I looked over the car, then bent down and inspected the tyres. Bridgestone. Perfect.
Swapna cribs about the mileage. I agree that the FiaT Palio is not exactly known to give the largest number of miles per gallon of fuel, but then, I don't really care. Nor do I care about the fact that the rear windows cannot be lowered all the way. It's a FIAT, and FIATs worldwide sport this feature. Not that I would have cared much anyway, I am never going to sit in the back seat!
With HTMT pulling out of the tournament, TI had to play 3 matches in the group leagues, against HSBC, GE Healthcare & Times of India . All matches for TI were scheduled for day One. Two of the four teams were to qualify for the knock-out stages.
Match 1: Against HSBC
Fielding Clifford, Gavin, Mahit, Sujoy and Ashwani (Goalie) and with a bench consisting of Ashish & Som, TI started on a promising note. The first half consisted of some hard football, with Clifford hitting the post several times, Gavin getting angry with the opponents’ rough tactics, Gavin and Som replacing each other and Ashish coming in sometime later. The first half was dominated by TI almost till the end. Then HSBC struck and TI was down 0-1 at half-time.
The second half was not so good for TI as we conceded once again, and then Ashwani was fouled upon, to be taken out with a swollen hand. Again the referee chose to ignore the foul against TI. Ashish put on the gloves to replace Ashwani. One more goal was scored near the end of play, and TI went down 0-3 against HSBC.
Match 2: Against GE
This promised to be an easy game in TI’s favour, and turned out just as predicted. TI started scoring almost as soon as the first whistle was blown, and kept on scoring repeatedly till the long whistle at the end of the second half. Sharath started in the goal in Ashwani’s absence, with a promise from Clifford to take him off as soon as TI went up. The promise was kept after TI’s second goal, and the veteran Hemant donned his gloves to stand in front of the nets. It was Clifford’s aim to have everyone score, and he almost succeeded, with goals coming from Sujoy, Sharath, Ashish (2) and Clifford himself (4). TI won emphatically at 8-0.
Match 3: Against TOI
This was a do or die match for TI, who had to win to qualify. TOI had drawn with HSBC, which meant that they could qualify even with a draw. With that in mind, they started in a very defensive note, with TI making repeated attacks at the opponents’ goal. But against the run of play, TOI struck first (in the second half) through a mis-understanding between otherwise flawless Mahit and fill-in goalie Hemant. TI however came back strongly with a brilliant series of passes, covering both flanks, before Clifford smashed the ball in through the TOI goalies out-stretched arms. The game became very interesting at this point, with TOI trying to hold on somehow, while TI was trying to roll one ball into the opponents’ nets. After repeated accurate passing among the TI players, which didn’t result in any goals, the change of fortunes came dramatically with 30 seconds to go! A few quick passes between Clifford and Som took them near the opponents’ goal, and a sharp push from Som through the defender’s legs left Clifford with the ball in front of only the TOI goalkeeper. With the amazing calm, which only Clifford is capable of, he feigned the goalkeeper to one side, and pushed the ball in to the nets, through the other side. The final whistle came within seconds of this and TI qualified for the semis, having beaten TOI 2-1.
Day Two - Report by Anupam Roy
Semi Finals: Against TESCO
Playing against a controversial opponent TESCO, TI started the game in a defensive mood. Starting line-up included Sharath as the goal-keeper, Sujoy & Mahit in defence, Anupam in midfield & Clifford as our lone striker. Som, Amlendu & Hemant were there on the bench. Som substituted Anupam after 10 minutes which immediately changed the game, with Som & Clifford both going forward & causing quite a few problems in TESCO's defence. Amlendu then substituted Som. The first half ended scoreless.
The next half started brightly for TI. Sujoy was everywhere on the field, blocking shots, tackling players, passing the ball forward. Mahit was in superb form too. His romping runs from the defence to the other half were a treat to our eyes. The opponents looked pretty relaxed when Clifford, our super hero struck! (You must know he was a professional & has played for Churchill Brothers in Goa). TESCO realized that they had to do something but they could not beat Sharath even once. I don't remember "who" were substituted "when" in the 2nd half. TI grew in confidence as Clifford played some brilliant one-two with Som. TESCO's defence was once more in trouble but they survived as Anupam's lethal right footer could only manage to rattle the woodwork.
Then came the defining moment when Clifford struck again! The entire TI support-team (which included the wives of 3 of the players on the pitch) went crazy. TESCO tried to fight back. Their goalie made an interesting run from their goal in the dying minutes but TI coolly defended. TI won 2-0 & reached the finals!
MOM : Clifford.
Finals: Against HSBC
TI had played HSBC in the group matches. Though TI dominated the game, HSBC had won the match 3-0. Now these 2 teams have to play against each other once more! This time its a big, big clash! Time for revenge??
Starting 5 were the same as in the semis. It was a boring 1st five minutes, both sides playing very defensive. Clifford was injured but played through the pain barrier. He knew he was needed. Their attackers tried to muscle their way into TI's penalty box but as usual we were rock solid in our defence. As luck would have it, a brilliant pass from our opponent saw them score the 1st goal. A huge disappointment. We have to come back from behind! It didn't take much time before TI sparkled. A gentle touch from Som & ball was at Clifford's feet inside opponent's penalty area. Everyone knew what was to follow. The ball kissed the net & TI was level!
First half ended 1-1.
Second half was a physical encounter from the start. It was true that all the players were tired & rarely anyone tried anything new. Every individual was aware of the importance of every second & execution was simply superb. HSBC tried numerous substitutions but none worked. There were 2 incidents that forced the referee to flash yellow cards. The 1st one was shown to one of the HSBC defenders for pulling Clifford's shirt as he tried to make a run, down the left. I, personally, feel that it should have been a direct red, as he was the last defender & Clifford had gone past him. Then a similar incident occurred but this time in the heat of the moment Clifford shot the ball into the stands. A yellow card for him. The 2nd half saw no goals & we had to go for a penalty shootout.
Sadly, we had made a mistake. The last few minutes didn't include Anupam, a regular penalty taker, in the playing 5. This implies he can't shoot!
Tension was growing. Out of Som, Sujoy & Mahit, at least one of them had to shoot.
Shot 1 : HSBC scores. Shot 2 : Clifford shoots but an extra ordinary save from their goalkeeper denies him. TI supporters shocked!! Shot 3 : HSBC scores again. Shot 4 : Sharath (our goalie) shoots & scores! Excellent strike! Hopes still alive! Shot 5 : HSBC player shoots directly at Sharath. Jubilation for TI. Shot 6 : Come on Sujoy! Must score. An exceptionally quiet Sujoy shoots. It goes in! Yes it does! Sujoy regains his normal self as we can hear his voice once again. A controversial penalty, as HSBC players mob upon the referee claiming that the ball has hit the cross-bar and come out. TI players very calm, as they know that the referee has already blown his whistle for a goal. The ball HAD crossed the goal line before coming out.
Sudden death to follow!
Amlendu biting his nails, Mahit sitting on the ground helplessly (must be praying to the Almighty).
Shot 7 : HSBC No. 7 shoots, straight over the crossbar! Shot 8 : Som steps ahead, goes for power, shoots! Believe me, it goes in! HSBC shell-shocked. We didn't know what to do. TI has actually won a corporate tournament!!
Celebration Details : 1) Som falls down on the horrible ground (not a glimpse of grass to be spotted anywhere!) 2) Sujoy, Clifford jump on him. 3) Others followed. (Even our heavy-weights Hemant & Sharath!)
TI, the winning team, lifts the cup! Clap, clap, clap!
If you are a hopeless Kajol fan, put an extra pin-up on your desktop instead. If you like to marvel at Amir Khan's acting skills, go see those re-runs once again.
And if you have to watch the movie, just because everyone else is, go watch it on a monday night 10:30PM show. At least that will give me the pleasure of knowing, I ain't the only sucker around!!
Sonu turned to her left and put her hand around the pillow. There was a smile on her lips and a content expression on her face. Life was good, at least in the dream that she was dreaming. Suddenly the shrill tone of the alarm bell pierced through her slumber, and brought her out into groggy wakefulness. She looked around surprised and at the alarm clock. Six AM only. Why had she put the alarm so early in the morning? Usually she never woke up before nine! As she was going back to snoozing after banging the alarm clock off, she suddenly remembered “Exam tomorrow!” She sat up suddenly, totally awake, and shouted, “Mummy!!”
The next hour and a half passed in a flurry of activities, bathing, freshening up, having breakfast, as her mother put everything in front of her. Finally, at seven thirty AM, she took out her book. A look at the fat book made her shudder. The topic was English, and she had not studied a page, yet! She made a quick calculation in her mind. Twenty four hours till the exam. Estimating about four hours for sleeping, and morning ablutions, she had twenty hours left. There were ten topics to cover. That meant that she could allow two hours per topic. She started with the first topic.
Soon she realized that all the material on that topic was not in one place. It was spread throughout the book. In dismay, she turned to the next topic. Soon she realized that all the topics were in the same state! In a state of despair, she shouted, “Mummy!!” … …
Sonu was sitting in the examination hall. The invigilator was not yet in. She took out her pens and arranged them in a row. She tidied her desk up and got ready to write.
The last twenty four hours had been a period of frenzied activity which she could vaguely remember. Her mother had torn up the book into individual pages. Then she had put together the different topics, like Grammar in a bunch, Composition in a bunch and so on, and stapled the bunches. Her father had then taken these bunches and indexed them as per topic, and cross-referenced them with previous years’ question papers. She had taken up one chapter at a time and somehow she had managed to read all of it before stepping into the examination hall.
The invigilator came in. Everyone stood up to wish him a good morning. As everyone sat down, he went from bench to bench and distributed the question papers. Sonu took her paper and looked at it expectantly. She read the first question. She did not have any clue what it was about. She went to the next one. This one was also as unknown to her. She quickly skimmed through the rest of the question paper. Her heart started beating hard with anxiety. She did not have any idea about any of the questions. It was supposed to be an English examination, but the questions seemed to be all about the life of one person! None of it was there in the book that she had read.
The overhead speakers in the hall came to life, and an announcement was made. “In order to pay our respect to Rajkumar, who died yesterday, today’s exam will be on the life of Rajkumar. Thank you.”
I had posted a blog on the day Rajkumar passed away, but on further reflection, I found the post unsuitable for publication, so I removed it a day after publishing. Given the number of hits on the website in the 24 hours since I posted this article and before I removed it, several people must have read the post. So here is a brief explanation on why I removed it.
The whole incident where one person died of old age, and several thousand others, as a show of their grief, killed away 8 more, injured hundreds and damaged property worth millions, is of course ridiculous, outrageous, and many more –ous words. My feelings about the incident are still as strong at they were on the day all this happened. However, the post on the incident was more emotional than logical. And I pride myself to be a very logical person. In the same lines, I had accused a whole population of a crime which a handful had committed. So, I feel that the post does not deserve a place in this public blog.
I will post another article on the same issue, if I can get myself to type it out. This one will not have any emotional bantering and accusations.
And yes, although several people have read the post, I am removing it entirely on my own will. No one posted threatening comments, I received no threatening phone calls or sms-es, no one threatened to sue me, or burn IBM laptops in front of the IBM office, and no one promised to wipe away the Amazon rain-forest if I did not remove the post.
They smile, grin, laugh out loud or stare incredulously. I smile back.
It has been four long weeks. Earlier, on an average fifty people used to ask me everyday. Then it became twenty. Now it is one or two per day. And I still smile and reply. I never knew I had so much patience with people!
It was four weeks ago. After a long day at work. The bus was at 7PM. There was a call at 7:30, which I had decided to take from home. As fate would have it, the call was not for me to attend.
There was still some time for the bus. We decided to do something different. We used to play football often in the evenings. We decided to shift our venue to the new sports building which is coming up near our office. It was not yet ready, work was still going on. The basketball court was almost ready. We decided to play there. It was much larger than the place where we usually play.
The game started in good spirit. Teams were distributed with the usual toss of hands! Everyone lift their arms, bring them down and hold them near waist height. Those who keep their palms facing downward are put in one team, the rest in the other. The toss is repeated till an appropriate combination is reached. We had an odd number of people that day, seven. So results were reached faster. I started in the four member team.
The game started like any other day. Subrato, Anant and Anupam were our opponents. The game was pretty even to start with. Anupam and Anant are two of our better players and in spite of being one player short, they matched us pretty evenly or more. Subrato’s extra enthusiasm more than overcame his lack of skills. I was particularly sluggish to start with that day. We also had the rookie Sachin in our team. Then there was Anand whose ventures in to the football field are about as sporadic as a solar eclipse. Santosh was of course there, but he could not match the combination of Anant and Anupam.
They scored a goal right at the beginning. A few wrong passes, total lack of any semblance of team work, and a few of the worst defense mistakes, and there we were, one goal down. This is where the memory gets a bit fuzzy. I think we scored back. Rather, I should say, I feel, we scored back. I don’t remember scoring or coming anywhere close to their goal. And then I became excited and launched into one of the better moves of my footballing career!
I trapped a ball at our defense area. I don’t remember whether it was a successful tackle or an intercept, but there I was with the ball, in our defense. The ball was bouncing, and not rolling. I had it perfectly in control. I lifted it over the head of Subrato, who was approaching me fast, rushed past him, and trapped the ball again. As I ambled along towards their goal, Subrato, incensed at being passed, charged at me. This was where the inherent snaily sluggishness of the human mind came into the picture.
If the mind could think really fast, I would have thought, “What’s the point of trying to out-run Subrato? Running fast on a hard surface is so dangerous! There is a chance of injury, and over the long run, even the knees may get over-stressed. I would be much better off if I were to slow down, let him pass, then maybe dribble past him. Of course I can dribble past him! And even if I cannot, what’s the big deal? I mean it’s only a game. It’s not like this is the end of the world! So I should slow down with the ball, maybe even stop.”
If the mind could think really fast, Subrato would have thought, “He is going really fast, probably faster than me. What can I do? Maybe I could pull his shirt and stop him? Nah! That would be unfair & unsporting. Maybe I should put my foot in front of him somehow. No, that wouldn’t do either. Whether I get the ball or not, I will bring him down. He may get injured. He is after all my friend, and more importantly, my supervisor! There is an off chance that I may just get the ball, but is it worth risking a serious impact on my career? Let alone my career, I don’t want to hurt him, he is such a nice guy! No that’s also out. Maybe, I could…”
But as my luck would have it, the human mind cannot think so fast. All I thought in those two seconds was, “Subrato! Run!!” And all Subrato thought was, “Stoppp!” So I ran, and he put a foot in front of me…
The rest happened as if in slow motion. Or perhaps the mind is capable of speeding up, but does so only at the wrong moments, just to jeer us! I saw Subrato putting his foot ahead of me. I moved the ball to my right foot and beyond his. I didn’t have enough time to change the line of motion of my left foot. It got caught in his foot. I could sense myself falling … the mind was fast, the body wasn’t. I couldn’t propel myself to a better position. I came down crashing at a hundred miles an hour, and hit the deck with my left elbow. I probably have a very strong left elbow, so not much happened to it. The force however, as Newton tells us, got transmitted through the bone, and pushed it out of the socket at the left shoulder.
It has been four long weeks. People still look at my arm in a sling, inside my shirt, and ask, “How”? At least one person asks me the same question every day. Today was no exception. I, however, changed my reply today!
It was not a heavy deluge, as we usually encounter in our part of the world during the monsoons, it was not a light drizzle either, that one could care to not pay any attention to. The steady stream of water soaked us to the skin in a matter of minutes. Wet, shivering, teeth chattering, we trudged back along the hilly terrain, clutching each other's arms, and huddling together for warmth. The woods on both sides of the road looked fresh and green, newly washed! The smell of the wet soil mingled with the smell of the not-so-distant sea, we were on earth, but we were also in heaven.
We soon came back to the sea, and the hotel on its shores. It was still raining as hard. Through the vertical sheets of water, the sea loked strangely calm and inviting. She agreed that we could hardly be any wetter or colder than we already were! Still in each other's arms, we walked into the sea!
The greenish-blue carpet of still water was warm and comforting as we stepped in. She was afraid to go too far in. She doesn't know how to swim, and it took all my persuasive skills to walk in till we reached waist-deep water. There we sat, up to our necks under the calm sparkling surface, looking at each other, speaking softly into each others ears and laughing occasionally as one or the other would lose footing and fall. The steady torrent splashed continuously on the shimmering surface. Time was an illussion. The rest of the world was an illussion. There were only two lone, content souls in the middle of a wide green bay, and there the universe ended.
Paradise is there on earth and we had found ours. It was the perfect ending to the brief sojourn, before we were to make it back to the bustle of city life, to the hectic schedule of daily activities.
I had intended to write a detailed account of our trip to Manipal, in the form of a novel. As always, I gave up soon after starting. Browsing through the old files and folders, I came upon the first chapter that I had written sometime in Dec '03! I am publishing it as it is here.
As usual we were late.
We were supposed to be in front of Manipal Hospital by 9 pm sharp. We didn't have any idea how we would be going except that there would be some bus coming there, and there would be a person called Basavraj, who was from Karmic and who would accompany us to Manipal. The coincidential similarity in names of our destination and the starting point of our journey had been a topic of conversation and a topic of jokes among us for the past few days.
By the time me and Anant had a hearty dinner of Egg Biryani at Vishal's (it was then a newly discovered eat-out for us) and trudged along to the Hospital, it was 9:15. We were greeted by a number of loud voices cracking jokes at our punctuality. Amidst the confusion, I noticed one stranger, a heavy-set fellow with curly hair and a thick moustache. He came over and introduced himself as Basavraj from Karmic. We shook hands with him.
Most of us had come alone, but there were several of Sumeet's room-mates, who had come to see him off. (Sumeet's alleged innumerable room-mates are a source of continuous entertainment to us, at his expense, even to this day!)
The wait for the bus was not all that bad. The group was a mixed one. We did not know each other all that well then. But through a series of meetings that had happened before the trip, we were at least familiar with each other to different degrees.
There were eleven of us. Koushik, Anant, Sumeet and I had been working on the same project for the past one and a half month. We were quite familiar with each other. Of course Anant was my room mate. Koushik stays with his parents in Rajajinagar. His home is the furthest, among us, from our office on the airport road.
I used to know Ashish as a joking, bantering kind of guy with a cheerful spirit. He was the loudest in the group, cracking jokes, laughing loudly. He had brought his guitar along with him, and I was trying out my inexpert attempts at producing music on it as we waited.
The tall shy Lokesh (Lokerson) was to me 'the dancer'. His numerous other interests and talents were as yet unknown to me. The contrasting nature of Ashish and Lokesh was highlighted all the more by their great friendship. Both of them were from the same college, and had known each other for long.
Ankur Saboo was an enigmatic character. I knew almost nothing about him. That there will always be difference of opinion between me and him, whatever be the discussion about, I could sense. That I will be so friendly with him later, I never anticipated.
While the seven of us were from the WLAN group, the other four were from DSL. Krishnakanth or KK was the actor. His exemplary acting skills came to light when we put up a half-an-hour stage show a few days back, for the benifit of the rest of BSTC. He was another guy who was always in good spirits, and never ceased to smile.
Bhaskar was the one who had raised his hand when Vivek Pawar had asked for volunteers to lead the group for the expedition. So had a couple of others (probably Ashish and someone else, I don't remember), but it was Bhaskar, who would be our voice when communicating with the seniors of TI and the people in Karmic.
Subhash was a totally unknown factor. It would be quite some time before his 'bloodthirsty' spirit would break though, but he was and is a nice person to be with.
Venky or Venkatesh was another local guy. He was called Batani by everyone. He had had that name since his school-days, ever since he mentioned 'Batani' among the different sciences, as he told us one later day over a cup of coffee at the mess 'Akshay'.
The bus came at 9:45 PM. It looked nice and new from the outside, with the word 'SUGAMA TRAVELS' written in bold letters. 9:45 was the right time but knowing our tendencies to be late for everything, they had asked us to come at 9. After putting all the luggage in the boot under Basavraj's supervision, we piled onto the bus, cheering and shouting. Basavraj had already told us the seat numbers booked for us. I was the last to board. By the time I had started looking for my seat, all the others were already seating in pairs in the seats of two. I sat down in the last (frontmost) seat, and slid to the window. Basu came and sat beside me.
"Which one's mine and which ones's yours?" I asked.
"The window one is mine, but its okay, you sit there."
The bus started almost immediately. I took out my new mobile phone from my pocket, and sent an sms to someone. Basu asked me, "Who all among you have mobiles?" I told him what I knew. At that time, probably me and KK were the only two people to have mobile phones. Basu took down the names on a piece of paper. I was wondering why. It had been impressed upon us that Dr. Mahant-Shetty, the person who ran Karmic, was a simple person. I somehow felt that owning a mobile while we were going for training may not be looked upon very nicely. From then onwards, till the day we came back, I always made an effort to make the mobile as less evident as possible.
Some of us had some food and snacks which we all shared. I think I also had some stuff. For the first half an hour we were pretty noisy. I think there were a few attempts at playing Antakshari and singing, but gradually those died down. Once the bus left Bangalore city limits, the driver switched off all the lights. One by one everyone dozed off. Owing to the discomfort I always feel when travelling by road, I was up till late. Next to me Basavraj was sleeping peacefully as if he was sleeping on his own bed at home! I tried looking out of the window for some time. For the first few minutes it was interesting. But slowly it started becoming dull and monotonous. I gradually eased into a state of restless slumber.
The roads down here are very nice. They are much better than the highways near Calcutta, which are so full of potholes that if there is a smooth stretch, people look out of the windows in amazement, wondering why the bus has come to a sudden stop! For the first time in my life, on this journey, I travelled for eight hours on a bus and didn't suffer from nausea!
I was woken up by the sound of people talking, and a lot of movement around. The bus had come to a stop. It was one of those road-side bus stations where all long distance busses have a pit-stop, so that passengers can get down, stretch there legs, and freshen up. I could see a lot of food stalls outside. Several sleepy eyed people were wandering about outside. I wanted to get down. It also seemed to be a good idea to make use of the toilet while the oppurtunity was there, we had another good 4-5 hours of journey left. But somehow, I didn't feel like moving from the seat. One gathers this lethargic inertia in the uncomfortable sweating semi-seated posture after being that way for hours. I debated with myself for five minutes about whether to get down or not, and ultimately decided to make a move.
As soon as I alighted, the driver boarded the bus and pressed the horn. It was a signal for everyone to get back on board. I made a pretense of stretching myself, and got into the bus. Other people filed in behind me. The conductor came back and did a quick head count to make sure everyone was there. Satisfied, he gave a thumbs-up to the driver, who immediately started backing out of the place. This time I went to sleep pretty quickly.
When I opened my eyes, there was a hint of light in the horizon. I looked around to see if anyone else was up. Apparently, no one was. I drew aside the curtain and looked out. The view outside was beautiful. The trees shining in the early morning light, the sparkling streams that we crossed every now and then, the foggy morning atmosphere, saturated with dew, it was perfect. So far the main attraction for Manipal, to me, was that it was very near to Goa. Suddenly, I started looking forward to spending time in this heavenly place.
By the time the bus came to a halt and the conductor looked in and shouted 'Udupi! Udupi!' almost everyone was up. There was a big gate kind of structure with the sculpture of a lion. About half the people in the bus got off. It was about 5:30 / 6 in the morning.
Manipal was the last stop. The bus stopped at what appeared to be a kind of junction of roads. Basavraj informed us that this was Tiger Circle. As we would later find out, this was the town centre, and we would be coming here all the time.
There was a Tata Sumo waiting for us. As we removed our luggage from the bus, we discovered that Koushik's leather suitcase had a big gash on one side, courtesy a few pieces of rusted iron that was also there in the boot of the bus. A few of us got into the Sumo, and they were taken away. The rest of us waited there for a second trip. All the while Koushik kept cribbing about his torn suitcase. Some of us cracked a few jokes at his expense.
The Sumo came back for us. We all piled in. We drove along a narrow road with a lake (rain-water) on one side and jungle on the other! We soon came across a small T-fork, where we took the left. The car stopped in front of an yellow two storeyed house. Mallickarjun, who was accompanying us on the car, took out a piece of paper and read out a couple of names, "Somshubhra Paul and Anant Shankar Kamath!" We acknowledged.
"You will be living here."
We got down from the Sumo. The Sumo started off, with the others. I took in the surroundings for a moment. The house looked pretty nice from outside. It had a sloping tiled roof. There were a couple of glossy brown-tiled balconeys, one on each floor. Inside the gate, to the right hand side was a small lawn. The rest of the courtyard was tiled. Opposite the house, on the other side of the lane was the jungle. I was half expecting some wild animal to step out from among the trees, when I heard the main door open behind me.
The high ball landed a few feet in front of Anant and the defender. A few quick steps, Anant reached the ball first. There was no time to control the ball, a small jump, Anant headed it towards the center. The ball bounced high, another defender made his way towards it. I jumped up and tapped it with my head, downwards, towards Anant, who was now some distance away from the guy marking him. A perfect trap with the right foot, control the ball to keep it with himself and pass along the ground with his right foot, Anant knew where I would be, and I was there. But there was another guy in front of me, I tried to go forward but didn't get enough free space. Sapto had come up from behind, I could see him to my left from the corner of my eye, but the defender had also seen him, and was between the two of us. I pulled the ball backwards between my legs, turned back, took a couple of steps and tapped hard with my left foot towards the right, of course Sapto was there in the clear for the pass. Sapto took the ball with his right foot, shuffled it a couple of times between right and left, pirouetted through 360 degress, with the ball glued to his left foot, to leave the hapless defender behind, rushed past the other guy, and there he was with only the goal-keeper in front. The rest was, of course, simple, the same routine, the goal-keeper coming forward to cut the angle, Sapto making as if to shoot straight, but passing cross-wise instead along the ground, no one marking me, a tap with the side of my right foot, the goal-keeper, still with Sapto, watching as the ball rolled smoothly between the two make-shift posts six feet apart....goooooaaalll!
* This story is based on real life, and is perfectly possible. However, some of the incidents mentioned below haven't happened yet! *
The clerk sitting behind the table with a pile of folders with A4 sheets of paper bursting out of them looked at me through his thick glasses and blinked twice. My brain somehow started believing that I was an alien from Jupiter, or worse still, Uranus.
"Four wheeler license ...." I started.
"LL or DL?" Sharply!
"Pardon me?"
"LL or DL?" Contemptuously!
"I have an US driving license ..." I started.
"Door 3." Close of conversation. He went back to leafing through the million pages in a purple folder. I went in search of door 3 and soon found it. Inside, there were a row of glass counters.
There was a queue at the nearest counter (number 8) and no one behind or in front of any of the others. I stood at the end of the queue. Everyone in front of me had a filled up form or two and I was feeling oddly out of place. I awaited my turn patiently behind five people. The guy at the counter seemed oblivious to the fact that there may exist some other activity in this world that might require the presence of one or more of these people standing at the queue. He took his own time in leafing through the forms, yawning between every two pages, stopping to share a joke with another guy inside the glass enclosure between every two yawns and peering suspiciously at each person in the queue.
In about what seemed like half-an-hour (one should not actually measure time when one is in a place where time has no value and doesn't exist, but being as I mentioned earlier, an alien, I could not but help glancing at my watch every once in a while), I was at the head of the queue.
"I have an American DL, and I want to get an Indian four wheeler license."
"Please go to counter number 4." This guy seemed to be very courteous. I glanced at counter number four. There was no one there in front of the counter or behind, or for that matter, anywhere within a mile radius. I looked back at this guy. "Don't worry, someone will be coming there soon."
By this time, I had lost all hope of going to office on time - anyway, I never go to office on time - so I went and waited at the counter number four. For fifteen minutes, I had no other occupation but to glance around and 'take in' the room. There was nothing much to take in, it was just another government office, with cobwebs and paperwork strewn all over the floor, ceiling, desks and window sills. There was by now a pretty long queue at the counter from which I just came. At the end of the room, there was an open door bearing the legend "Assistant Officer In Charge, Regional Transport Office" and a pretty fast moving queue at the door. Some way off inside the room with the glass counters, where two ladies were sitting across a desk and chatting.
Presently, one of the ladies took pity on me and came and sat at the counter at which I was waiting. She moved about a few things on the desk, took out a pin cushion, and made preparations for (what appeared to be) a day's work ahead. Thus customizing the desk for 5 minutes, she looked at me and asked, "Yes?"
I repeated my request.
"Please go over there and talk with the Assisstant Officer in Charge."
I knew better than to protest and I went and joined the long queue. I was relatively certain that the Assisstant Officer in Charge didn't really have anywhere to redirect me to because the Officer in Charge was nowhere to be seen. Being a (mis)believer of the doctrine of Patience and its payoffs, I waited patiently. Soon (within fifteen minutes) I was in front of the great man himself.
"I have an American DL, and I want to get an Indian four wheeler license." I repeated.
The person at the desk nodded. "I need your driving license, a couple of passport-sized photographs and your residence proof. What residence-proof do you have?"
"I have this BSNL land line telephone bill here..."
Shaking his head ... "It has to be either a Passport or a Ration Card or an LIC policy."
"But ..." if I have a land line telephone connection I surely must have a residence!
The guy was shaking his head.
"But my Passport and Ration Card are in the Kolkata address."
"Then get your license at Kolkata."
"But I live here now."
"We have no proof that you live here now."
"But .... okay I have my Rental Agreement ..."
"We do not accept a House Rental Agreement as a residence proof." You may have rented the house for, I don't know, not living there perhaps. Perhaps you have too much money and just want to spend some of it as house rent!
"Well, I also have this proof of residence certificate given by my office on our official letterhead."
"Do you work for any government office?"
"No."
"Then the certificate is not acceptable." Only the government offices are honest and incorruptible, everyone else is a liar!
"But I can't really get a Ration Card here ..."
"I can't help you ... Next please."
***
After a discussion for about an hour and a half, we had narrowed down the possibilities to the one perfect policy for me. I was happy that I will soon get a Life Insurance Policy as well as an address proof. The agent sitting in front of me was happy that he had made one more sale, which means more commission in his pocket.
"Now to get to the paperwork. I need a couple of passport sized photographs, a medical fitness certificate and a proof of your residence. What residence proof do you have?"
"I have a BSNL telephone bill, a certificate from my office and my rental agreement."
The guy nods. "Yes, I understand. We do not accept those."
"Wha..what? Why?" Then why are you nodding?
Still nodding. "Yes, it has to be your passport or your ration card. Your driving license will do also."
"But I don't have a driving lincense." That is why I need the LIC policy! "And the other two are in my Kolkata address."
"Sorry, I can't help you then. You need to get an address proof." Still nodding.
"But I do have proofs of my residence here. My telephone bill..."
"No it has to be your Passport or your DL."
"That means I can't make an LIC policy here?"
"Of course you can, sir. You just need the address proof."
***
The corridors looked similar, the counters looked similar, the clerks behind the counters looked and acted similarly. All government offices look the same.
Finding my way to the correct counter was easy. The signs on the wall bearing the legend "Change of Address" all pointed to the same place. The clerk at the counter looked strangely similar to the one at the RTO. Wondering if it would be polite to ask the guy if he had many twins, each of whom worked at a different Government Public Service Office in Bangalore, I approached the person.
"I want to change the address in my passport to my current address."
That is the only thing done at this counter. Of course you want to change the address in your passport. The guy looked at me severly. This person was markedly less polite than his twin brother at counter 8 in the RTO. "What address proof do you have?"
By now I could answer this question as a reflex and didn't have to think. I replied.
"Not possible."
"Why?"
"We do not accept those as proof of residence."
"What do you accept?" Of course I knew what they accepted.
"Your Driving License or your Ration Card. Even an LIC Policy will do."
***
I was at the RTO in Kolkata.
"I have this American DL. I want to get an Indian DL. I have two photographs and I have my Passport or Ration Card as address proof."
"We need three photographs."
"Okay I have three."
"Do you stay at this address?"
"I ... uh ..."
"This is a government quarter. Do you work for the government?"
"No my dad does."
"Are you a dependant?"
"No."
"Then I need your address proof."
"Can't I stay with my dad? I have got all the proof that you want here."
"Do you stay here in Kolkata? Most young people like you are going out these days."
"I ... "
"Where do you work? Do you work in Kolkata? Bring me a proof that you work here. Otherwise I will not accept this proof of residence. You do not live here."
Congratulations, Somshubhra, you don't live anywhere any more!!
With the innumerable "forwards" being forwarded all over hyper-space thanks to people superstitious by virtue of birth, upbringing, estrangement and jilting, or people who just want their associates to also have a quick laugh as they did, the word chain-mail (if it can be treated as a single word) takes a new meaning with every passing moment. Forwarding through short messaging services had to follow of course. Memes are probably the only way (albeit a more interesting one) that the forwarding viri could catch up with the web-logging domain.
With such an introduction, I will now proceed to reply to Sumeet's tag.
Number of Books I Own
I never did count the total number of books I own. For one, the number keeps changing quite frequently. And then, I keep 'borowing' my dad's, uncle's & grand-dad's books everytime I go home, but I never return them. So effectively these books are also mine. Unlike some friends of mine though, the number of technical books I own lie outside the three sigma limits of the total number!
I do not own this book. Anant had bought a copy a couple of months back, before I went to Dallas. I managed to read it only last week though, after returning. It is to some extent an interesting book. But definitely not the greatest that I have read, by more miles than there are on a Bangalore-Dallas round trip. Like many other books, I do not think that all the hype about this one is justified. (I have to admit, I had actually forgotten the name of the author, and had to look it up in Google for this post!)
The Last Book I Bought
Having been out of town for some time (and having found the price of books in USA too high, specially compared to the M G Road pirated sales!) I have not bought any books over the last couple of months. Before going, however, I had bought a couple of Agatha Christies (one fiction & one non-fiction) and a copy of 'A Tale of Two Cities' (Charles Dickens).
Books That Mean a Lot to Me
I will assume that this implies books which I really enjoyed reading and keep talking about / recommending to others!
Day of the Jackal - Frederick Forsyth
My all time favourite. Purely for the amazing and gripping plot and the fluid writing style of my favourite author. I read the book for the first time when I was in Bangalore doing my summer training in 2001. I remember staying up till 4 in the morning just to finish the book. Which was pretty painful for my classmate Diptendu, who was trying to sleep in the same room, but I kept the light on all night!
Jurrasic Park - Michael Chricton
A must read for everyone. The book is chilling to say the least. Everytime I read it in the night, all the hair on my neck stand up and quiver when I go out in the dark, and I keep glancing back all the time, expecting a Procompsognathid or a Velociraptor to pounce on me any moment. The book is a million times more interesting than the movie, and the movie ranks among my favourites! Incidentally, this is the only Chricton novel, where the ending does not dissappoint the reader.
The Dark Crusader - Alistair McLean
The first time I came across Alistair McLean's writing style. All my close friends are tired of hearing me quote lines / puns from this book. Also this was the first thriller that I read. Before reading this book, my staple diet used to consist of Enid Blytons, Agatha Christies, Nancy Drews & a few Hardy Boys!
A Hitch-hiker's Guide to The Galaxy - Douglass Adams
42 :).
There are so many other books that I have enjoyed, but it is of course possible to name only a few. The list above represents what came to my mind first while typing this post. There may be a couple of favourites that escapes my memory right now. I may eventually modify the post and add more to the list.
Books I wish I had completed (and plan to complete)
Atlas Shrugged - Ayn Rand
I have read The Fountainhead and We The Living, and although I do not subscribe to the belief that Ayn Rand is God, I am after all an aethist. I like reading her books when I am in a mood to concentrate on some serious reading, which is only very occassionally. On the next such occassion, I will read what is arguably her best work.
Crime and Punishment - Theodore Dostoevsky
I started reading the epic but I am ashamed to admit that I gave up after a page or two because I was not really in a mood for serious reading. I promise to give it a try again.
The Lord of The Rings - J R R Tolkien
I claim to be an avid book reader, and not having read a book that half the readers in the world have read, and the other half are reading, doesn't do much justice to the claim. The book promises so much that I admire in a book, like consistency from beginning to end, and attention to the minutest of details. Yet, although the book lies on my shelf, borrowed from Prerna a couple of years back, I have not yet made much headway beyond the first 70 odd pages.
A lot of interest is shown in what is known as multiple personality in a person. Many stories have been written on the topic, there have been many movies, and both, of course, quote from real life, the examples of multiple personalities in the past. Having multiple personalities is considered to be unusual. But is it really so much out of the ordinary?
It is my theory that all people do have different facets in their personality, which come to light in different situations. That may sound like another way of saying that people may react in a way which is 'out of character' in certain extreme situations, but that is not what I mean. My point is actually more specific to the 'cyber world' or the 'virtual space'.
I consider myself to be part of a generation (or at least a section of the society) which is 'net-savvy' or maybe even 'nerd'ish to those who do not 'belong' to the same circles. I have a definite presence as a character in the cyber-world. This is marked by my blog, my email account and my yahoo messenger & chatroom aliases. I interact with other people who qualify in the same category. But my interaction with these people are probably very different from the when I interact with friends in the 'real world' to borrow Matrix terminology.
For one, the language I use is different. Even though I use English more often than any other language in my day to day life, it is a different English that I type out. When online, I think before putting something down. I give my opinion on various topics which I probably do not discuss with friends. The anonimity, or at least the fact that the reader is not face-to-face, actually helps me in being more blatant if I may say so. I used to have, for example, a classmate in college, who was of one of the most introvertish natures in person. Online however, he was not only talkative, but had friends from all over the world, girls and guys, and probably having very different nature. The internet does not only shrink the world to our desk, but it brings out another dimension of our personality, or, brings out another personality altogether, from within us.
The subject of online dating has received a lot of interest lately. People have been known to meet, successfully as it is proved later, the love of their lives, in yahoo chatrooms or orkut, or across web-logs. But I think it is on rare occassions that the person whom one knows across the net has stayed the same when present in flesh and blood. To try and develope an online relation into a real world one almost always results in disillusion followed by a lot of dissappointment and pain. Of course it is not wrong to meet a web aquaintance in the real life. But one should expect in such cases to have to develope a relation from scratch, and not try to continue a cyber-relation under totally different conditions.
If you want to kill an earthworm by asphynxation, pinching its nose is not going to help. Or so the girl-on-the-train told me. Which revealed to me a mystery which has haunted me for long ... more than 8 years actually.
The first thing that every normal, decent guy with the right mind (and no girlfriend or wife tagging along) does when he is getting on a train, is check the list of passengers next to the door for entries marked with F**!! (The ** can be filled up with any double digit number depending on his age and choice!) Such scans more often than not end up with negative results. On this occassion however, there was an young girl in the compartment, and she was actually occupying the very next seat! The trip back from Kolkata promised to be interesting! The girl turned out to be a student of Zoology going for an interview at a Bangalore college. The Zoology of course explains her extensive knowledge on cockroaches, earthworms, etc and their breathing habits. Earthworms for example breathe sub-cutaneously! So if you want to kill an earthworm, you should rather skin it alive than pinch its nose! More on earthworms coming up later.
She (the-girl-on-the-train, hereafter referred to as 'she'), apart from being a student of the world of animals, also turned out to be a big fan of the television serial F.R.I.E.N.D.S and an avid reader of thrillers etc. This discovery was the point when the conversation really took off! When two F.R.I.E.N.D.S fans get together and happen to have similar choice in books also, the combination is deadly, specially for the fellow passengers who die of boredom as these two keep talking about incidents involving Joey and Monica and Phoebe, and which author should be read after trying out Jeffrey Archer. The fact that she is not interested in sports and detests cricket was overlooked with plenty of common interests to discuss over the one-and-a-half day ride. At the end of the journey, she was all armed up with a list of authors to try out, and I had strengthened my resolution to go through my to-read waiting list fast (both her suggestions were already present in my to-read list!)
Coming back to the earthworm. It all started on a fine summer day in the year of 1997. It was summer vacation for me, and I was spending the month long vacation at my grandma's / uncle's playing carrom with my one-year-elder cousin sister and devicing methods to kill the innumerable earthworms that infested their (my grandma's / uncle's / cousin's) habitat. One of the more innovative ways to kill earthworms that I had perfected during that time was to burn them with a concentrated beam of sunlight by holding a strong magnifying glass (intended to study stamps) behind their back! With such earth(worm)-shattering ideas, I attempted to slay one worm by dropping it into a tank of water. It went straight to the bottom, and then start a long and tedious climb up the side of the tank. Although it was under water for about half an hour, I was amazed to see that it did not die of drowning after clutching its throat with its tail or thrashing about in the water or anything. Rather, it made its way all the way up to the sill of the tank, and calmly proceeded on its own business as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Well, now I know, it was because the worm could still breathe under water, through its skin. That's what she told me.
I know that I don't have a bigger "Haoos" of Cards but I am definitely catching up. Now, about everyone who is anyone, and almost anyone who is not (just wanted to say that!!) has 2 or more credit cards. I have 2 personal and one business AMEX. Plus (only) one debit card. But when you add the Lufthansa Frequent Flyer, the TI Badge (which has the perfect size and shape to qualify as a 'card'! Now, has anyone noticed that all 'cards' have the same size? Including hotel door keys!), two hotel door keys, one PAN Card, one expired Indian 4-wheeler DL (the two wheeler DL is a book!) and one IEE (yes, only two Es) Membership card, veterans of Card-ology will look up and say, now you are talking. But there is more. I have recently acquired membership in the Richardson Public Library (They give everyone membership, everyone, that is, who have a Dallas Driving License.) Ohh yes, I have a Dallas DL too. Only, it is still a piece of paper, the actual 'card' is yet to reach me.
Well so much for cards (and the digressions (anyone who has been reading my blog (yes, this page (I guess I can call it a page, one of the words that can be alternatively used for a web-site)) know that I keep on digressing (digression n 1: a message that departs from the main subject (syn: aside, excursus, divagation, parenthesis)) whenever I set to write (actually type) about something)). To come back to the point (anyone who has read the last sentence and is still reading, deserves a break!), I will continue to write (or type) on the point which I actually wanted to speak (or write (or type)) about!
The point in question being the last in the list given above, the entry which is still to obtain 'card' status', the piece of paper which (along with my passport (and the visa stamp in it (along with the I-94 form stapled next page))) gives me the license to drive in the US. (If anyone is bothered by this incessant detours & non-linear discontinuous torrent of words, my apologies, I want to write about driving in US, and not drive anyone crazy.) I received the license to drive, on having successfully driven a two-wheel drive sonata with 'Dallas Driving School' written on the wind-shield during the Practical Driving Tests to the satisfaction of the Driving instructor (or examiner) last friday.
The first (actually twenty-third) thing i did after getting the license was rent an Avis Pontiac Grandam. And immediately (actually, twenty hours later) we went on a five hour drive to Natural Bridge Caverns near San Antonio. Waving aside all protests from my fellow driving-aspirants, I did not allow anyone at the wheel for even half the journey to and half the journey fro, I mean back. And it was (definitely) worth the fight I had to put to earn (autonomically) the driving rights! The place we went to was great, but I enjoyed the drive more.
A detailed description of the actual drive may follow (given my track records, nothing will follow of course) some time later. For the time being, I wanted to drive home the point that I drove here. I guess I have succeeded!
The likelihood of being the first to do something often makes a person go out of his way to do what he normally wouldn’t. Imagine me, typing out a blog entry within a day of posting the last one!!
I had to watch The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy here, before leaving this country. Otherwise, the ‘Universe’ only knows how long I would have had to wait before they released the movie in India. Or how much longer before the Kannada activists let it be screened in Bangalore theatres! But I owe the fact that I managed to watch the movie on the first day (not first show) to the enthusiasm with which Biman-da & Akshay agreed to the suggestion that we go watch the movie today. I went one step forward and took a printout of the list of theatres in and around Dallas, which are screening the movie. Biman-da picked up the nearest theatre, and we are just returning after the 8:50 show!
Marvin was amazing. The robot with the head the size of a planet lived up to my imagination! Trillian & Arthur were good. Ford Prefect was not how I had pictured him. Did Zaphod Beeblobox have two heads? I somehow had the idea he had four! I have to read the book again to be sure.
They had to leave out a lot of the book to fit it in a two hour show. And they made a few modifications here and there. Again, have to read the book to be sure. I don’t think the story ends the way it is shown. Some liberties have to be taken on the big screen I guess. On the whole it is a very well made movie. I didn’t like it ending so soon, but then…. I hope they do make a sequel or something with the rest of the chapters. I enjoyed all the old jokes, plus the few new ones that they put in. The theme song in the lines of “So Long and Thanks for all the Fish” was quite catchy. I guess, I will watch the movie again, when it does finally reach Bangalore!
It started with 10 kids that some guy called Haradhan had. Interestingly, Haradhan never appears in the tale. The first kid probably gets eaten up by a fish, while fishing! Of the remaining nine, the second kid gets cut by a hacksaw or something. (Ya, pretty grim!) And so on and so forth, till there are none left.
The above is the gist of a Bengali poetry for kids going something like this, “Haradhaner doshti chhele….”. I had read it when I was a kid. I had also heard that there is another piece of verse existing where all ten come back one by one. But the latter is not so popular, and I have never come across it. In all probabilities, the latter was cooked up by my mom because I was rather sad on reading about Haradhan’s ten kids.
We had a group of twelve, who used to hang out together. Well, I don’t remember many occasions when all twelve were there, but we used to go out in subsets out of the twelve! The whole group existed only as a list of e-mail ids, but everyone was there.
Ankur Saboo was the first to leave. He has joined a reputed Management Institute of India. Right now he is doing his training in Hong Kong. Sumeet Kulkarni went for an MS degree at Darmstadt University, Germany. He was always keen on going to Germany and anything German had interested him. He knows Duetche well enough to have topped exams at the end of a pretty advanced Duetche course (advanced enough to make him eligible to teach German!) at Max Mueller Bhavan.
Swapna went to the USA, and Souradeep relocated to Belgium. Both of them will be returning of course, in another few months. Now with Prerna and Ashish all set to fly across the globe to Canada for higher studies, it’s six down out of twelve. And there is one guy, (name withheld, may be disclosed by himself in comments page) who has got admission in Stanford University, and will be flying in September. One more person has been studying furiously to crack the GMAT (name withheld etc etc).
I don’t foresee myself leaving Bangalore in any long term basis in the near future. Anant has also declared that he is not going to leave TI India till he has obtained a black belt. (He is learning Karate from an instructor who teaches TII employees, and currently has an orange belt.) So it is time, as I am told (by one of those who is now outside India), to incur fresh blood in the group. So be it. The group of twelve will still exist as an e-group, but there will now be more gmail.com in the list of ids than ti.com. As I think of the people moving on, I can’t help but think of Haradhan’s ten kids. All Bengali kids have read about the ten disappearing one by one. But no one has read of them coming back together again!
From the very beginning, it was an un-planned excursion. We decided on Friday, during lunch time, that we should go somewhere over the long weekend. When I suggested that we go to Mysore, Anant agreed at once. He would probably have suggested the same.
We made a few attempts to rope in a few other people. Prasenjit was invited, and accepted after some discussion. He later pulled out at the last moment. Anupam was invited and declined the offer. He later joined in at the last moment. Preetam, Tommy had other plans. So finally, it was the three of us.
We had decided that we will go by train. Train journeys are much more comfortable than bus journeys according to me (but then, my opinion should not be taken as universal, I believe bikes are more comfortable than cars.) Anant rarely gets the chance to travel by train, so he also wanted to go by train this time. A quick call (half-an-hour long, and after being passed on to and fro between a host of automated response systems) to the railway enquiry, and we were told that there was a train at 11:55 in the night.
We reached the station in due time, reserved three berths, went out to have dinner, came back, waited for the two sleepers to be coupled to the rest of the train for half-an-hour, boarded the train, went to sleep, and reached Mysore, all in no time.
At four o'clock in the morning (or night), all towns look and feel curiously alike. Specially if there are no pavements anywhere, and you are walking miles along desolate streets in the middle of the night, and you still do not have any place to put up, and are searching for a hotel. We had reached Waynad at 4:30 in the morning, Pondicherry, slightly later. (Refer to this post and this post for the details of these earlier trips.) This time it was 3:30 AM when the train chugged into Mysore station. I suggested that we put up in the station Retiring Room. After bouncing about between an invisible dormitory attendant and an unhelpful security guard (RPF) we decided to find out the Retiring Rooms ourselves.
After following a cold trail (Anant vaguely remembered having seen the legend 'Retiring Rooms' from the train window) we finally reached an unimpressive doorway which promised to take us up to our destination. We went in and up a flight of stairs to reach the Empirical era. The rooms were huge, the ceilings so high above as not to be visible. We walked along a wide verandah (in the wrong direction as we found out later) searching for an attendant or an office. After trekking for about a mile on the moonlit stone floor, we reached a dead end. We turned back, and made our way to the juncture were the flight of stairs had left us. Here we met a shadowy figure clad in white, who told us that all rooms had been taken, and we could have easily used what few grey cells we had in our heads, to find that out ourselves, by pressing a switch on a switchboard at the top of the stairs.
Banished from the Railway Station, the night found us trudging along a desolate street in search of 'Hotel Ramanashree', which had advertised its presence in Mysore through a large banner at the Railway Station exit. A few traffic policemen outside the station had confirmed that indeed such hotel did exist, and was the best to be found nearby. So we walked for about a couple of kilometres, directed by a few mortal souls, who for some reason unknown to us, had chosen to be around at that un-earthly hour.
The tout found us about a hundred metres away from the destination. He showered us with a deluge of pamphlets and cards and information regarding hotel rates and managed to confuse us thoroughly. We ended up checking in at the Mysore Hotel Complex. They had only the "Superior Double Bed Rooms with TV" available for Rs 650 per night (plus Rs 50 for an extra mattress for the extra person). What we did not know then was that Hotel room charges, like everything else in Mysore, were negotiable. Finally we ended up paying Rs 1100 for one room for two nights, when they refused to accept credit cards, and we claimed to be short of cash (which we were actually).
The Superior Room turned out to be superior indeed - in terms of the mustiness, the thick carpet of dust on the floor, and the huge volume of mosquitoes, ants and bed bugs. The latter, for some inexplicable reason, chose to let Anupam be (Anupam and I shared the bed, while Anant slept on the mattress and had to cope with the mosquitoes and ants only) and turned all their unwelcome attention towards me. After a night of troubled, scratchy & itchy sleep, when I woke up, my face, swollen in parts, would have put Frankenstein to shame. The only thing missing was a big nut & bolt sticking out of my neck.
We spent the first morning hunting for second hand books. It may be an unconventional thing to do on a trip, but then this was an unconventional trip. Actually, the huge collection of second hand books available at a place was one of the motivations for Anant to go to Mysore.
We didn't do much in Mysore. We visited the Chamundi hills in the afternoon, went (quite late) over to the Brindavan Gardens in the evening (there was no current there and the Gardens were shrouded in darkness.) We also went to visit the Maharaja's Palace on Sunday morning, a singularly uninteresting palace, if there has been any. Before going, I was keen on the GRS Water Theme Park, but we chose to give the theme park a pass this time around.
The ad hoc visit also included having lunch at Bhattacharya Restaurant (Anupam was very excited in finding a Bengali place in Mysore), a free auto ride throughout Mysore in search of a Citibank ATM, with an over-enthusiastic auto driver who claimed to know what he was doing, a couple of long bus rides to and from Brindavan Gardens, with a painful local movie playing on one of the busses, and a few other adventures, like having the apprehension of running out of cash before buying return tickets, a mile long queue in front of the ticket counter, with about twenty minutes left before departure and so on.
All in all, it was a nice trip, including the train journey back home where we discovered that there exist TTEs in this world who are young (on the right side of thirty) & helpful (not necessarily above corruption, though)!
I find the laws of gravitation fairly attractive. I believe that all others share my point of view. Because, gravitation treats everyone, big or small, equally. However high and mighty one is, gravitation has this tendency to bring him down to earth.
Following is a discussion on The Da Vinci Code. Although I have not revealed the ending of the story, those who have not read the book yet, but intend to do so, are advised to read it first to keep all suspenses intact!
The first time I heard about The Da Vince Code was when a couple of friends were talking about it. They were praising the book, and one of them went to the extent of declaring that it was the best book she ever read. Curiousity peaked, when I could not find any lendable copy among friends, I bought the book from those footpath bookstores that throng M G Road. (Say no to piracy, ya, ya, I know! When my income is large enough, I will say no to piracy and buy all books at regular stores. Till then, pirated books and softwares are a necessity in life!)
I liked the book immensely. The plot itself was pretty good, probably good enough to keep the interest of the reader till the end. What made the book otstanding was, however, the number of outrageous suggestions and declarations, reading which, as Ross says, the mind boggles. I am not knowledgeable enough on the topics concerned, namely Christianity and the arts, to understand the full import of the suggestions. The thing which intrigues me is the following.
Obviously, the book is fiction. But it is based on reality. The important question is, how much of what Dan Brown says is true, and how much of it has he made up? He has made some outrageous suggestions against the Church, and it would take a really bold person to say all that, unless of course all that is true. And if that be the case, advocates of Christianity, who base their claims on its noble History, are clearly deceived themselves, and they try to put a veil of deception over everyone's eyes. I don't have anything personal against Christianity, and I suppose, the histories of other religeons would be equally tainted, if one cares to look closely, but being uninformed on those topics, I cannot make any comment.
The other interesting suggestion was about The Last Supper. This Leonardo da Vinci painting being among the most famous works of art in the history of mankind, it seems strange that none of the thousands of experts who have scrutinised it under microscope over centuries, detected that the person on Jesus' right in the painting was not a male disciple, the popular belief (I am told) being that the painting captures Jesus and twelve of his disciples having their last supper before Jesus was crucified. Before reading this book, I did not have any idea who Mary Magdalene was. Now that I have read it, I am more inclined to believe Dan Brown's version of it, rather than the popular belief (again, I am told) that she was a prostitute, also a disciple of Jesus. Maybe because Dan Brown's version is more adventurous.
After reading the book, I did some esearch (the web variety of research!) on the topics covered. Interestingly, there seem to be a lot of other people who did the same. The result is that most web-pages covering the topics like the Priory of Sion, or Mary Magdalene, or even The Last Supper, bear references to The Da Vinci Code! An interesting site with a detailed discussion of the book and its contents is a site by one Lisa Shea. Although I do not agree with some of her points and most of her readers' comments, it does make interesting reading.
The Priory of Sion seems to be a secret society, formed by one Pierre Plantard in the middle of the 20th century, which tried to forge historical evidence and create a romantic history for themselves. This website describes the person and the organisation in great details. Mary Magdalene also has websites dedicated to herself, which, again, became popular only after the book! I have not had time to go through this site in details yet, but it should be interesting to do so.
All in all, The Da Vinci Code is a very interesting book. It makes light reading, yet provides a lot to think about. The symbologic and cryptographic references in the book are also attractive. A keen reader of detective stories, and one who used to solve 'clues' with friends when I was a kid, I found the anagrams pretty interesting. I was dissapointed however, when Langdon et al took such a long time to decipher the mirror-writing. I knew what it was at the first glance!
When I bought the bike, it was my idea that I shall continue to cycle to office and use the bike for going elsewhere. Not only does cycling give the regular exercise, otherwise lacking now that I do not play in the evenings any more, but also, I used to enjoy cycling. Accordingly, I had actually cycled to office for about a month even after buying the bike.
Then, one fine day, my cycle got punctured. I thought I will fix it the next day, and drove to office. 'Tomorrow' stayed 'tomorrow' for a couple of weeks, till I ultimately gave up the idea of getting it repaired, and gave in to the comfort of riding to office. The fact that my bike is really comfortable didn't help much in keeping my cycling resolutions! (Ya, a bike can be more comfortable than others, ask anyone who has ridden mine!)
For a few days now, I have been planning to jog in the morning. Lazy as I am, waking up early enough and pulling myself out into the streets to jog has proven impossible till date! Haven't had any proper incentives either. I can wake up for football, and call up enough people to join in as early as 6 in the morning, but waking up to jog? Are you kidding?
So as usual I am taking the easy way out. My current resolution - to cycle to office regularly. 10 kilometres of fast cycling a day should do me a world of good, specially if I can shed a couple of kilograms from the steadily growing midriff areas! Let me see how long I can keep up the practice.
One does not find much to say when there is nothing happening in one's life, or when there is too much happening. And as I swing to and fro between the 'too much' and the 'too little' phases of life what is affected most is my blog, and the regularity with which I post.
Okay, okay, so much for excuses. To update on my last few months, it'll suffice to say that I have been really really lucky. And I mean really really really lucky! I'll leave it at that for the time being and let your curiosity peak up, and your imaginations flow wild!! I shall elaborate more on this when the time comes.
On the sports front, we have been trying to organise a football tournament for some time now, and for some reason or other it keeps on getting postponed. Weekend football has, however, become a regular feature. We are also conducting and participating in a chess tournament...and I have won two matches out of two so far!!!
Long ago, I had received a couple of gift coupons from TI. Last weekend me and Anant went over to Higgin Bothams and Gangarams, and bought a few books with the coupons. We bought a couple of Agatha Christies, a copy of To Kill A Mocking Bird and a collection of short stories by Khushwant Singh.
That is about all that is going on in my life right now. (Last month, the picture was totally different!!) I suppose, I shall try to update more often. But that depends on the mood at the moment!!
He stares at me. Why the hell are you disturbing me in whatever I was doing? I stare back at him.
"What do you want?"
"I work in Texas Instruments. I have some work with General Paul."
"But Saab has guests." Please go away.
"I shall take only a couple of minutes of his time."
He shrugs, walks back a couple of paces.
"Saab, some saab has come to meet you."
"Saab has come? So soon?"
"No no no!" Vigorously shaking his head. "Some Saab has come..."
I had expected General Paul to be tall, stern, burly, with an erect stature. However, the person who came out to the door was short, small, and hardly looked military if you know what I mean.
"General Paul?"
"Ye-es?"
"I work in Texas Instruments. We want to organize a football tournament... blah blah blah ... so they asked me to meet you."
"Ya, I know the procedure. I will give you the information. But I have some guests right now. Do you have a card on you? I will give you a ring."
"Yes, I have." I fumble with my wallet, take out a business card, and hand it over to him. "You can call me on my mobile." I indicate the correct number.
"Hmm." Pause. "Somshubhra Paul?"
"Yes, that's me."
"Bengali?"
"Yes." Modestly, nodding.
"Kotha theke?"
The rest of the conversation was partly in Bengali, and partly in English. For easy readability, I will translate the Bengali portions.
"From Calcutta."
"Been here long?"
"A couple of years."
"Okay I will give you a call."
"Thanks."
"By the way, which University?"
"I am from Jadavpur University."
"Bloody Hell!"
I look at him surprised.
"Which batch?"
"2002."
"Ohh."
"Are you from Jadavpur too?"
"'55 batch."
"Ohh."
"Have you heard of AJUB, our alumny association here....?"
Whenever I see a large group of ants gathering up somewhere around some small piece of eatable junk, or dead insect, the anticidal tendencies in me resurface and I feel an urge to stomp on the quivering black or red mass of antity.
I don't have anything personal against ants. I believe that individually, they are all very nice pleasant characters, capable of really hard work. In fact I respect them for that. And if I see a long line of ants crawling endlessly across a wall, I leave them well alone. It is only when I see a large number of them flocking together somewhere that I feel aggressive.
When a large number of ants flock together, they cease to be the nice peaceful characters that they otherwise are. This is because, in principle, they don't have any strong values or principles. They don't have any qualms about stealing or invading anyone's personal space. Whenever one leaves some foodstuff unguarded for a short period of time, they gather around and start 'borrowing'. In the communities they live in, nothing is personal. They follow communist principles more stringently than any man on earth.
I do not like my food 'borrowed'. Nor do I like to be crawled upon. And inevitably, whenever they gather somewhere, they crawl and trample over anything and anyone who steps near them. For this very reason, I don't like the idea of them flocking together. And I try to prevent them from doing that as much as I can.
Sometimes, when I am in a more sadistic mood, I drench them in a deluge of water. People say that ants swim well. They don't. They don't know the first thing about swimming. They just float in water. Maybe they are lightheaded. Whatever the reason, they just float in water, and thrash around. If they come close to the edge of the pool of water, I just blow on to them and they go back to the centre of the pool.
Animal rights activists will probably start aggressive campaigns against me upon reading this post. Like I care! I am a non-vegetarian, I don't give a damn if a poor chicken dies to become my food, why should I care about ants?
If winners of tournaments / sports competitions were decided based on the amount of enthusiasm the participants have, I would have won each and every tournament that I ever participated in. As it is, I manage to lose every one in the first round! Yesterday it was the turn for Intra-TII Badminton singles tournament.
It was not that my opponent was particularly good or anything. In fact he was pretty bad, with glaring shortcomings in various departments. Only, I was worse. I managed to win about 7 points in two sets! I never had much hopes with badminton anyway. I don't particularly like the game, and seldom participate except in tournaments.
In the recent past, I have lost in chess and table tennis tournaments in the first round. I am almost as bad in table tennis as I am in badminton. Chess, probably, I could have done something, but as luck would have it, I was faced with the eventual champion and undoubtably the best player in TII in the first round itself.
I have participated in a volleyball tournament, in which our team emerged champions, without much help from me, needless to mention. In fact I played in only two of the matches, and would have effortlessly won the Worst Player of The Tournament Award, had it been given! In cricket we went on to the second round thanks to a couple of walkovers, and then managed to lose a sure-win game.
Right now I am looking forward to the football tournament, which we are going to arrange in another months time or so. Hopefully, I can team up with a few good players there, and manage to do something. Also, I am hoping to fare better in a tennis tournament, provided, of course, that I do not end up playing the best player of the tournament again in the first round!
Walking along the course of life, one occassionally comes upon a stage, where every thing around him starts to change. People start behaving differently, topics of conversation change. The way one looks at life changes. That's when one realises that one is not young any more, that it is time to step into another stage of life, a stage which demands more maturity, capability to handle complex problems, and ability to make difficult decisions.
Over the last few months, everywhere I see, there is change. The least of my careeristic friends are planning ahead for years. Everywhere that I care to look at, friends are planning to tie the Knot of Life. And everywhere that I care to look at , there are problems. Different problems for different people, tailor-made problems, but problems nevertheless. Seldom have I come across anyone who has crossed this stage smoothly, with no problems, and acceptance everywhere.
Earlier, when the outlook of people was different, and it was accepted that our parents know what was best for us, and all decision-making was left upon them, life was pretty simple for the prospective groom and the bride, at least till the marriage. They just had to go along as they were told, and did not have to think and decide for themselves. These marriages were more successful also, statistically speaking. But that does not mean that people were happier. It just means that acceptance levels were higher, people went through life making compromises without complaining.
The thought processes of people have changed. "I have the right to chose how and with whom I am going to live my life" is a valid statement now. Even parents accept that their children are going to feel that way, and there is nothing they can do about it. Most parents say that they are okay with it. They seem to be the most 'open-minded' parents of all times ... till one fine day, the son or daughter comes home, and says, "Mom, Dad, I have found the match of my life!" That is when all open-mindedness disappears. Not all the time. But too often to say that times have changed, and people accept the more 'modern' views freely.
As I mentioned, several of my friends are getting married these days, or planning to shortly. Most of them have found their match themselves. I cannot think of any one couple, however, for whom the match was accepted smoothly, without hiccups, without aggressive resistance from one or both families involved. A prospective match, who would have passed all criteria, had he/she been selected through arrangement by parents, fails to impress the parents, when selected by the son or daughter.
How can one explain the case when on knowing the guy for about eight years, and knowing about the feelings for half the time, the girl's mother refuses her support when the wedding is proposed and planned? To the extent that she did not ultimately attend the wedding when it happened! Yes that is an extreme case. But it just goes to show that whatever we say, it is still not accepted in our culture and ways of life that a person, who is old enough to take part in electing the leader of the nation for five to ten years is not mature enough to select his or her partner for life.
Acceptance is not the only problem. For those who are lucky enough to cross the hurdle of acceptance in a relatively calm manner, problems may and do arise in other fronts, like the two family's opinions about the hows and whens and wheres involved in tying the knot. It then falls upon the bride and groom to decide, which way to go. And either path you take, you have one disgruntled family. Starting life together with a set of angry relatives is not very comfortable. And in trying to solve a problem of difference of opinion, if one judiciously takes a middle path, one ends up worse off, because no one got what they wanted. So what is the solution to this dilemma?
All of us face these problems. Some give in to sheer pressure enforced upon them, others manage to scrape through with minor bruises. Afterwards, one thinks with his newfound wisdom, if only I had acted like this or that ... it would have saved me a lot of pain. Would it have really? After all, life is a lesson, one learns it when one's through!!
No, I do not belong to the league of unfortunate bloggers, who, poor souls, lost all their old comments, when they enabled the new commenting system that blogger has introduced. Yes, I have also enabled the blogger commenting system. No, I have not yet been able to format the new comments page properly, so please bear with me as I try to enhance the visual appeal of my comments page.
As for my old comments, let me draw your attention to those two tiny dots, fool-stops if you will, after '::: posted by Somshubhra at
