Radhika's Corner

Finding ragam

2012-01-11T00:49:00.001-08:00

After many many years I attended two Carnatic concerts this season. I have been to a few conecrts outside of chennai, but there is something about the december season. Much has been commented about the parallel food festival that goes on, so I am not going to go into the details of the aapams and dosas I ate. Beyond the fantastic performances the audience were interesting to study.The ultimate point of this experience is to be able to find the ragam after all and it was quite intriguing to see who from the audience have the ability to do that and who are pretending to know and who are just there for the emotional appeal. There was a visiting professor from some US university who thought I was a student. Made my day, despite that he was in his eighties with possibly failing eyesight. He shared some of his opinions on the singer as well as the rest of the spectators quite caustically. There was a young man who seemed like he had come in by mistake but wrote down ragas for almost all the pieces. The best was the father and daughter - the father must have been in his eighties and the daughter late fifties. The daughter had to sit in a different row and it was fascinating to see the interchange. She would mouth the name of the raga and he would nod or shake his head and if she had an explanation she would write it on her phone and pass it to him. During the RTP there was considerable speculation and a few others near them also joined in the mime. I couldnt know for sure if they got 'keeravani'. I certainly didn't. What an ultimate pattern matching problem!

By the beach

2012-01-08T21:55:00.000-08:00

Every time I go to Chennai I dream of going for a morning walk on beach road. After many many years finally I managed to do that, more than once, this time. Walking on beach road in Chennai early in the morning ought to be listed in hundred things to do in India before you die. It was amazing to have the wind against my face and the music of the waves as I walked about four kilometers each day.

Starting from the lighthouse, as you walk towards the Marina swimming pool, past the wide road you have the stately buildings on your left and the vast sandy beach on your right. The sun fresh from the east shines upon your face and the cawing of the crows fills the air. As you walk past the various statues, you could almost loose yourself in stories from the past. You have Kannagi to think about feminism and terrorism, you have Gandhi to wonder about salt and swadeshi, you have Pope to wonder about the power of language and assimilation. I wondered if anyone would care to unveil a statue of Ovvaiyar these days - we don't know her religion or caste [let me not be loud, someone might claim her], or let unveil the statue of G.U. Pope. There should be walking tours in beach road.

By the third day the waves got ferocious and for the first time I saw the sandy parts of the beach filled with water. Thane showed its might and I could feel the power of nature.

In between on a sunny day I drove down by beach road to Mahabalipuram. It was hot and crowded and I felt thoroughly tired and low. One of the unsung victim of over population is the wide open spaces - I felt like mourning the lack of an imaginative setting that is a must for viewing the old structures of Mahabalipuram. I guess short of the Pantheon, Mahabalipuram is probably the oldest structures I have ever visited. [Stonehenge wouldn't qualify :)] It is such a fantastic example of man's triumph over nature I thought as the waves crashed against the rocks close to the temple and the salty air that swept the carvings. I should read my copy of Periplus again.

Cleaning up

2011-12-12T02:53:00.000-08:00

In the movie 'Pursuit of happyness' Will Smith's character has these cute lines where he describes the different stages of his life. There is one where he says, for example, "This part of my life... this part right here? This part is called "being stupid." " I was just wondering what lines would I come up with. This part is called "having potential"... This part is called "wasting it"...

The part right now, maybe 'Cleaning up'. The figurative meaning apart, the literal cleaning up I find takes a lot of time and is oddly therapeutic. There is something about bringing order from chaos, polishing something up, removing the dirt off of that old Chinese vase and seeing that delicate flower emerge in all its subtle beauty.

I dust and sweep and mop and wash and I have this rerun in my head of life some twenty years ago when someone I know would do all this with a song on her lips. I know she doesn't clean up so much anymore, but I wonder if she sings as much.

I don't mind these physical activities since it oddly brings a forgotten tune back onto my lips.

Baby boy

2011-11-17T08:20:00.001-08:00

P, the young woman who works in my house as a maid, delivered a baby boy last week. When I visited the hospital, it was quite crowded outside and I wasn't sure of the visiting hours that after a few minutes hesitation, I called her. Thanks to the ubiquitous mobile phones that even moms who have just delivered keep at an arms length I was able to reach her right away. "I will send someone," she said and added, as way of identification, that the girl coming out to fetch me was of really dark complexion. I wondered how she would describe me to that girl - bespectacled? has a deer caught in headlight look? benign with a 'pavam' look?

The ward was quite noisy with quite a few young kids running around. Out of the three beds in the large room, two were occupied by women who had already delivered but the third seemed to have just come in with labor pains. Their families milled about. P was delighted to show me the baby. She asked why I was not holding him, 'I am afraid,' I said sheepishly. P laughed quite amused by this. Her husband had just left to buy a cradle she said proudly. The matron came and asked some random questions.

After some time I took leave - P was still disappointed I didn't hold the baby. This little hospital with people walking in and out like a carnival, with its noise was definitely so much in contrast to the hushed environs of the upscale maternity wing of the hospital not a kilometer away. Those young mothers I felt would certainly not ask me to hold their three days old babies I felt. Which mothers are likely to get postpartum depression I wondered.

I came out to a bright, bustling, bangalore morning. The little boy with no name yet [only three months later, she told me], born at this time and at this place has all the potential for a bright future I thought. And if he had her pretty smile that brought the dimples out, then there is no doubt about it.

Must remember safety pins

2011-11-14T02:38:00.001-08:00

Typically whenever I blog about a Chennai trip it involves a road trip. This time though I took the plane to go to Chennai. I have a history of arriving at the airport well ahead of time and then somehow managing to be the last passenger in. Last time, thoroughly lost in some random book, I was startled by the 'last call for passenger radhika'. Then the time in Florida when I arrived so ahead of time, I spent about an hour sitting on a nice recliner reading a book. I was still the last passenger in because that time I managed to mix up the arrival time of another airplane and departure of my plane to/from the same place. And then that flight from San Jose when I realized just before boarding that I had lost my phone. I ran the length of the airport and managed to come back with the phone just before they closed the gate, completely out of breath I should add.

So this time I parked myself near the gate, set alarms on my phone and was totally alert. The old man next to me suddenly stood up and sort of gestured a request asking me to watch his luggage and vanished in the direction of the loo. I vaguely thought about luggage from strangers etc., but wasn't really perturbed. Five minutes later I wondered if I should be worried. Ten minutes passed. Either the man had a really upset stomach or something sinister was going on. The queue rapidly dwindled and everyone but me seemed to go enthusiastically down the stairs to catch the bus [to the plane]. I stood up, fidgeted, looked pointedly at the airline staff but no luck. And then at last just before the airline staff member plucked the mic to call for my name, the old man arrived. I ran to the podium.

On the way back, for the first time I was late. Thanks to a wedding in a politician's family and rain, I arrived about five minutes before they closed check in. Apparently they don't do tele-checkin, despite my pleading. I ran to the podium and my sandals broke. If it were a bus, or even a train, I would have chucked my sandals in the nearest bin and ran barefoot. I did run to the podium holding my sandals but after checkin, tried to hold the broken strap with my big toe as I hobbled to security. My churidhar was knee deep in dirt thanks to the rain, hair was streaming all over my face and with the broken sandals that I was dragging my foot on, I must have looked quite a site.

It was so mortifying and embarrassing that I kept low even when the man next to me said some provoking stuff about the 'woman' pilot in his last plane.

Gandhi Jayanti

2011-10-03T04:14:00.000-07:00

Dry day has come and gone, the movie Gandhi has been telecast dutifully in one channel or the other, a few statues have been garlanded in another year of remembering Gandhi.

There is a wide range of criticisms against Gandhi - from those with potentially devious intentions, to the ridiculous, to the high intellectual. We are probably the only nation with such wide spread disrespect for the so called Father of the Nation.

I have in the past quite vociferously commented about some of his practices yet I am much stuck by the importance of some of his writings in today's world. A very interesting documentary on "How Cuba survived peak oil" brought it home further. In the documentary they talk about the hardships Cuba underwent after the fall of the Soviet Union, but most importantly the shift in Cuba's thinking from highly industrialized, import/oil dependence to small community based self reliance. And I kept thinking about Gandhi's vision for the village republic. Granted, his was too idealistic a view, but the Cuba situation seems to show the validity of his arguments.

In this petrol guzzling, big company driven, consumerist age, as we collectively realize [er.., some of us at least] the colossal harm we are causing the environment and to our health, Gandhi's views seem more relevant. He was not backward insisting every ancient tradition is great, nor was he opposed to modern tools that can be used as long as the fundamental characteristic of non exploitation is maintained. Non exploitation need not be limited to human beings, it can be extended to every living breathing thing, the resources, the very earth. He simply believed in the power and sustainability of small community based production, his famous quote saying it all - "not mass production, but production by the masses".

How relevant when you think of that Washington Apple that seems to have found its way to the neighborhood store and the cost that went into its production - not just the economics, but the cost to the earth.

It is worth taking a few minutes to read a few letters or essays he has written on the subject.

Groundhog Day

2011-09-23T02:27:00.001-07:00

I have always wanted a groundhog day - I should actually be horrified at the idea of repeating the same day over and over, but somehow the idea seems inviting to me. It is sort of like the world pauses while you get to do whatever you want. In the movie, Phil masters the piano, probably gets to watch all the movies he had wanted to, reads hundreds of book all while he was still getting paid.

Coleridge may have lamented "And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing" But I personally would have welcomed the idea.

I have finally woken up to the fact there is no groundhog day coming my way and no one is going to pay me for doing whatever I want. So I have bitten the bullet, so to speak. I am officially on a break whatever that means.

I am now in the mode of watching sundry TV programs and walking about rather aimlessly and eating salty snacks but once I get this out of my system I might actually enjoy doing nothing or enjoy not getting paid for what I want to do.

National Prozac

2011-08-29T21:39:00.000-07:00

Last week while I was walking, a neighbor asked if I was joining the march to show our solidarity for Anna Hazare and team. I cringed as soon as the words, 'I have some reservations,' were out of my mouth. I realized more than the bill and the means to it, the way we as a nation have reacted to it is more interesting.

This is certainly a feel good, anti-depressant protest.

Television coverage, marching with candles, politician bashing etc. obviously makes one feel good, heck elevated even. It was not like someone is shooting the marchers down or even their livelihood was at stake. It gave us a sense of purpose, was time bound and had an escalated sense of urgency thanks to the fast. No wonder we gobbled it up.

And then thinking calmly, one starts wondering about the details - about the existing vigilance commissions and their effectiveness or lack thereof and one wonders if we can't find a single person of integrity in the parliament, with so many controversies surrounding some of the activists how are we going to find people to appoint as Lokpal and Lok Ayukta. As a nation did we have honest, intellectual debates? No.., no.., no.. We either reduced most of it to sound bytes, bent our knees to fasts, or better still made ad hominem attacks. [An occasional print media article was a rare exception]

Anyway - now that the Arab spring has come and gone, Lokpal bill part 1 has come and gone, we will have to deal with the withdrawal symptoms.

I get reminded of Tom Friedman's words - more steroid and less muscle building, that's what this is all about.

Unfortunately it is a complicated world, solutions wont be simple.

Fast track - move on

2011-08-17T07:29:00.000-07:00

I watch the ad series for fast track with mixed emotions. The first thought is - it is cute. But when I think about it more deeply though [I know, why would anyone want to think about ads!] I find the whole philosophy of speeding things up disturbing. Are we as a generation not interested to spend time and energy going deep into anything? Are we so tuned to instant information that we don't feel like striving for anything? Are we even trained to think long term? Even nations seem to think in terms of mere decades [that too nations like Maldives that are likely to go under the sea in the next few decades].

Is the reminder of our own mortality - natural disasters, terrorism, accidents everday - making us all want to rush through life like there is no tomorrow?

What if I did live for a couple of more decades instead? What am I going to be able to show for myself?

Tarabai

2011-07-29T02:34:00.000-07:00

I picked up the book "Makers of modern India" more because of the fact it was compiled by Ramachandra Guha. My interests were mainly to see who he picked, out of my respect for his works, than to learn anything new. In all arrogance, I thought I would know all of them, at the least by name.

What a shocker that I had not heard of Tarabai Shinde. And what a shame I have read Mary Wallstonecraft but not Tarabai. The writings are fiery, even in translation. The words mocking, flowing, intelligent..

I can't help but admire her comments on Guru's which more than a century later still holds good.

"He sits there as the women come to take darshan and prays on very different beads. He picks out some specially who are young and freshly nubile, and there he sits, meditating and repeating to himself, this one's nice, that one's pretty! Not a word about your Shiva or Hari, they're all forgotten! The only name on his lips is the girl's who looks like the milkmaid Radha."

Here is another gem..

"When Krishna got Arjuna to disguise himself as a big holy man and steal Subhadra away, the Yadavas sons said to each other 'A holy man's carried Aunty off!' But do you ever hear of the aunty carrying off the holy man?"

She has some scathing comments for Rama too..

How could I have possibly not heard of her book "A comparison of Men and Women."

Here is to another monsoon evening read!

Poetry in motion

2011-07-14T22:13:00.000-07:00

Monsoon clouds hung low. Cars, buses and motorcycles clogged the narrow road, din of impatient honking filled the air and I sat by the window of my car staring out unseeingly. The car moved a little, a beam of sunlight broke through the clouds and I saw it - perched on a stone bench, about a foot high, unpolished, granite sculpture of an elephant, its trunk slightly twisted in mid motion, its ears wide open, staring straight at me. Droplets of water glistened in the evening sun's rays.

Traffic light changed, we moved on, the moment captured in my mind in an indelible black and white picture.

Some years ago I might have jumped out of the car, ran back the way and bought the elephant. Yesterday I simply savored the moment.

I have no doubt the sculpture will remain longer with me this way.

Days like this..

2011-06-28T03:07:00.000-07:00

Sat through a long boring meeting all bleary eyed, yawning. The yawning was because I spent a sleepless night. So that's nothing new for a certified insomniac like me. Right from childhood my brain has exhibited an amazing capability to context switch - I am losing some of it now - but typically I could switch seamlessly from one thread to another faster than most people. But when it comes to shutdown for sleep it is a different thing altogether.

Thoughts thrash about, skitter and scatter. Dogs howl, the clock ticks and before I know it the early morning light creeps on the sky outside my east facing window. I have spent another night sleepless, my brain still trying to figure it all out.

Human brain is the ultimate frontier.

I often joke that there is so much of me sitting in bits and pieces in systems all over the world, a future technology might be able to reconstruct me. What I am is not just the thoughts that plague me well into the night, but also how I am perceived based on my expressions.

I am just a sum of all my chemical induced behavior.

Guess that gives me the freedom to say 'It depends' to the questions on deadlines I get asked routinely.

Seeking Spirituality

2011-06-25T07:51:00.000-07:00

Made a brief trip to Thiruvannamalai for an occasion. The back breaking journey of five hours brought me to the town, late in the evening. Dead tired, I crashed in a small hotel and walked up to a roadside place to eat the lukewarm masala dosa. I couldn't help but notice the young white woman sitting nearby flipping through a book that had some pictures of gods and clearly was something about religion.

Why would this woman want to come to Thiruvannamalai to seek spirituality I wondered. The filthy road, the leering men by the sidewalk, the cheating cashiers and wild stray dogs did not particularly make it seem conducive for a spiritual quest.

I know about the ashram and perhaps there are spots in the town that are peaceful.

I was still left with the question of why one needs to go someplace - is it really external? A guru, a location, an experience - is the journey to spirituality outside the self?

Vertigo

2011-06-02T05:58:00.000-07:00

By some quirky neuron connections, when I hear the word Vertigo, an image of Gregory Peck clenching his jaws and staring intently at something pops into my mind. I know Gregory Peck didn't act in Vertigo and the image is from Spellbound but who cares - Greg is the handsomest..

All that went out the door yesterday after a nasty spell of Vertigo. I was sprawled on the bed panic stricken unable to even raise my head. My head was spinning, spinning.. I tried to bring myself to get up and get to a hospital but it was so intense I just couldn't move. The onslaught was sudden and random [unless you count a complicated episode of Lost that I was watching] and it scared the heck out of me.

A day later the feeling still persists and I am now at least walking around albeit gingerly like an eighty year old. Vertigo is an interesting topic to research. None of the websites helped me narrow down what my problem could be.

The whole episode got me pondering about relationships and information. Rewind twenty years ago, we'd have had a lot of people in the house and the doctor who knew me well would have paid a visit home and I wouldn't have a clue of what he was really diagnosing. Now I have all the information in the world, but no one to reassure. Have I really lost anything and have I really gained anything?

Tere Bin Laden

2011-05-02T10:28:00.000-07:00

I have wasted many idle evenings in surfing HBO, Star movies and the likes. Thankfully, I have finally discovered news channels are a lot more entertaining than the movie channels and reruns of Friends.

As the news hit the airwaves, at prime time almost all the English media channels in this country had an anchor who was yelling at the top of his voice at some unfortunate Pakistani journalist or researcher who had agreed to be on their show. The jingoist rhetorics without even a pretense of a question was fun to watch. For example, 'should Pakistan be declared as a terror state?' - was one question. The anchor had no interest in really hearing the answer unless it was a yes. His guests didn't oblige him and he didn't bother giving them airtime more than a minute. The cheers in NY or the 'We will hunt you down' posturing from American establishment wasn't particularly intellectual either. But then who really is expecting anything intellectual?

I missed the days when I had discovered the power of internet - my morning dose of newspaper in those days included the headlines from dawn. Interestingly today when I tried connecting to dawn it gave me a funny error and made me wait for some security check whatever that is.

The Gotcha blog in dawn restored my faith that there are still some people left who can look at a problem with balance and intelligence despite the overwhelming screams of the rest of the country in a different direction.

Another couple of hours spent in reading print media - likes of guardian, mother jones etc. would be a good preemptive strike against any possible invasion to the mind.

Chennai trip

2011-04-26T02:42:00.000-07:00

Drove to chennai for the long weekend. Froze two bottles of water imagining it would be a hot drive; it turned out to be a cloudy, rainy drive, almost monsoon like conditions. I ate a lot, walked some - more like wandered aimlessly in mylapore streets and spent the time in election news and family gossip.

Briefly stopped to see the swanky Anna centenary library. Stunning complex, shining rows of books, computer terminals, sofas to sit... I had to ask myself if I was dreaming. Predictably the children's section was the most bustling with activity followed by the magazine section. The philosophy, sociology, culture sections hardly had anyone. I wondered if I should optimistically be thrilled about the fact that many parents were bringing their children to the library. The cynical part of me wondered if it is truly a love of books and knowledge and if so why weren't the parents themselves flocking the other floors. Thankfully there were lots of books to grab my attention and I didn't spend too much time dwelling on such dilemmas.

When I walked out the sky was dark and I stood out sometime staring at the modern structure. Would it have been money better spent to revamp the Connemara library and all the district central libraries?

Ah, well..What do I know!

Doctor appointment

2011-04-21T09:46:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a binge night - spent until 3:00 AM watching old star trek TOS episodes. Woke up bleary eyed late for the doctor appointment. I hate going to hospitals but this morning wasn't too bad. OPD seemed full of bright young healthy people. There was an Arabic family that I spent some time observing. It was obviously the patriarch who was there to get some treatment - there were no women with them but atleast three or four men - from their faces likely his sons or son in laws. I was impressed that they had all made the trip abroad for the elder. They must be rolling in money, probably that makes things easier. The white robes up close seemed more satin like than cotton like as I had imagined. Either way the long white robe is the best attire for a hot place, so sensible with the protection to the head too. Why would the women dress in black that absorbed so much heat, I wondered.

Doctors prognosis was not good. I walked out and saw the pamphlet about Good Friday prayer meeting inviting people for miraculous healing. Brilliant piece of marketing to put it in OPD.

Sujatha's words bubbled up -

People come, people go
Selling prayers, Selling soap,
Human albumin and hope.

Dedication

2011-04-20T04:30:00.000-07:00

Since I blogged last, Anna Hazare got explosive coverage in the north Indian media and has further gotten into controversy. Fast track world!

Rushing to a meeting early morning last week I found to my dismay my blazer was not pressed and was full of creases. I frantically looked for a laundromat and I came across one open. I handed the blazer and was impressed with the dedication he showed in pressing it. Though I was in a hurry, he took his time making sure every crease vanished and I thought here was a lesson for me. It is about doing a job well, not rushing into something..

And then he charged me five times what was the going rate. Goes to show!

Lok Pal Bill

2011-04-05T20:04:00.000-07:00

In the aftermath of Egypt, Ivory Coast and Libya, the protest around Lok Pal Bill should capture the media and blogosphere - sadly not as much as I expected. Tendulkar and team India gets more time than Anna Hazare. I am sure this will change in the upcoming days - IPL will get more time than Anna Hazare.

This protest and the bill deserves to be debated at a large scale and not just because of the men and women behind it.

Worldcup

2011-04-03T06:31:00.000-07:00

With everyone and her grandmother having celebrated the victory there is hardly anything left to say. I was however amazed at the energy levels of the fans - through the day I saw many processions with drum beats and marches, could hear the loud groans and applauses from nearby streets and then firecrackers and horns well past midnight. What is it that makes the fans give so much for this game or for any game? I fail to understand.

How I wish I could!

Stereo-Types

2011-04-01T08:57:00.001-07:00

The new McDonald's ad is clever, charming and mildly irritating. Mildly irritating because of the stereo-types it reinforces. The boy buys, the girl is demanding etc. etc. It makes bespectacled non demanding creatures like me indignant.

I got reminded of a dialog in Disclosure when Sanders asks Hunter who she supports and she responds - "You know...it's funny how you always assumed you'd get the job. But nobody ever thought for a second it might be me. Hunter! not someone you'd follow into battle. A team player. No killer instinct. Doesn't have those tools. What is that all a code for? I studied engineering for eight years. I was the only woman in the department. You know what I did? I worked."

And I also got reminded of another McDonald's ad - even more charming than this one. The son opens his piggy bank to get a happy meal for his mom who looks upset.

Story

2011-03-21T02:10:00.000-07:00

I wrote a short story recently. During my college days my friends and I would finish each others story or write from a different view point with a twist etc. I did something similar by writing a different view point to my friends popular story. There were responses appreciating the work.

Unfortunately, it was all for the wrong reasons. The irony and subtlety, that I was appreciating myself for, that I was particularly proud of was completely lost on my readers. Here I was thinking I have made a profound statement by highlighting a hidden dimension of the protagonist and not a single reader caught it.

Of course the fault could simply be the way I wrote it - however my friend who did catch the twist that I gave to his character told me kindly that this sort of highbrow style wont work. I felt extremely depressed - and I call myself an aspiring writer.

Monday blues

2011-03-03T23:00:00.000-08:00

Last monday was a big news day - Oscars, Budget presentation, Cricket world cup tied match - I was thinking how easy it was when I was in school. All I had to do was fake a stomach ache and I could have stayed home. With the ability to connect from anywhere to do the work, with your colleagues having the ability to reach you multiple ways and that darn thing called responsibility Monday mornings have only become worse.

Colin Firth won - was reminded of the early facebook less, twitter less age when he still managed to capture a lot of attention as Mr.Darcy.

I don't encounter stutterers these days - same as people with bad teeth, unlike during my school days. I wonder if middle class is highly aware of the intervention mechanisms and are fixing such problems much ahead of time. Would that make children these days more likely to mock or less likely?

I don't see many young children or young adults with dimples these days either.

Precision

2011-02-17T18:02:00.000-08:00

Was awe struck watching the redbulls at the Aero show. As the two planes crossed each other within hair's breath there was a collective gasp from the audience and then a round of applause. It must have taken years of practice but I also wonder if some of us are better suited to do such things than others. With my unsteady hands and nausea prone body, hypothetically even if I had spent twenty years of my early life practicing would I have made it? I doubt. Heart surgeons and test pilots are my ideal.

Marketable skills

2011-02-13T17:53:00.001-08:00

So I am sitting on a chair by the window staring out - they advise you find a job you really love to do - the problem is I don't think anyone would pay for the things I like to do. Let us see - I like to mindlessly watch youtube videos (political satire, cute ads), argue a point to death in a loud voice, read the same books again and again, surf the internet on obscure topics (myth of Aryan invasion, Shakespeare authorship), the aforementioned staring out the window... No, I don't think anyone would pay me for these.

In the meantime I have to carry on the way I do now - a mental equivalent of bulimia. I restrain myself for a few days and then have episodes where I do all or some of the above in a binge until 2 AM in the morning. Unfortunately there is no cerebral equivalent to sticking your fingers down your throat.

New year new blog

2011-01-05T07:00:00.000-08:00

In the movie Bridget Jones's Diary, Mark Darcy scathingly describes Bridget as verbally incontinent. I get reminded of it often these days - the whole planet seems to have become electronically incontinent.

Last year, the commonwealth games was not enough of a temptation for me, I had successfully resisted the spectrum scam, heck I had even remained silent at the face of Ayodhya verdict. So I suppose as one of the early bloggers I am on the downward curve now, a sort of blogging fatigue.

Anyway, here is my new year wish - Let me always be interested in something and have the ability to exercise that interest.

Chocolate

2010-08-01T00:21:00.000-07:00

On the bridge to Electronics city - a cloudy day - I saw a man standing behind his motorcycle on the layby, one foot on the side wall, a hand resting his neck, gazing at the sky, puffing slowly smoke rings. There were certainly a lot of things wrong with that picture but I must admit the only thing that filled me was envy. Soul chocolate moment.

Talking of things one shouldn't appreciate but does - the new Tanishq wedding collection with Arundathi Nag and that beautiful girl - utterly charming.

Death before breakfast

2009-12-01T10:06:00.000-08:00

Several weeks ago a pigeon found a way to build a nest in my balcony. In a couple of days I saw it had laid two eggs. Chasing it out of course was not an option and for a week or two I tiptoed around the nest and one fine morning saw the eggs hatched and two little pigeons very helpless living in my balcony.

I wish the story ended there.

Few mornings later I opened the balcony screen to a bloody scene - I shot but a glance, still enough for an indelible image of two wings broken brutally and blood splattered all over the white tiles and what could be the left over mangled remains. Much later, with no guts to go there, I asked my driver to help me. He called to ask me what to do with the other one; turns out one was alive. I asked him to leave it on a safe tree somewhere below - my mind dwelling on the horrors the other pigeon must have gone through - how it must have been filled with terror all night that the brutal assailant might come back. It must have been a cat - I have always hated cats with their cruel cruel eyes.

My driver looked pityingly at me, after cleaning and dutifully depositing the pigeon on a tree, almost smiled and said pigeon blood is good for those suffering from epilepsy, his village upbringing mocking my city-bred urbane sensitivity.

In some ways he is right - while superimposing my human emotions on the remaining pigeon and dwelling on its misery, what I really failed to see was the remaining pigeon was alive despite being an easy prey.

That thought made dinner possible that day and makes this blog writable.

Familiarity breeds..

2009-09-12T23:42:00.000-07:00

For about a year now, while waiting in at least three of the prominent traffic lights I cross to work, I have been noticing transgenders begging for money. They would typically stand very close to the driver of the vehicle and occasionally touch them as they moved from one vehicle to the other.

There were usually four or five begging - their clothes predominantly in good condition, their face made up, including a dash of lipstick. When it started, I'd see folks, men in two wheelers mostly, giving money fast - it seemed to disturb them and they wanted to be rid of those begging as soon as they could. The men in the car did the same if their window was down - otherwise they rolled it up hastily. The indifference with which one ignored a crying baby or a deformed old man was not there. Business was brisk. As in everything else, we had more inflow of transgenders and possibly men who became temporarily transvesitites due to the money inflow.

In the process they became too familiar.

Now I see less than 30% of the men reacting and the rest are back to behaving the same way as they would behave with any other beggar. The number of transgender beggars at the traffic lights I cross are dwindling.

Familiarity breeds apathy.

Seven - Spoilers

2009-09-12T23:26:00.000-07:00

I saw the movie Seven late evening two days ago, a very dark movie with no ounce of hope [When Kevin Spacey gets arrested it is already all over]. It was very stylish, but I thought the ending was convenient. Granted it is not glib as some of the alternate endings that are listed in imdb and is very very powerful but I felt the movie had not built up to the ending. I am making a somewhat contradictory if not confusing statement. But here is my theory - the profile of the killer does not fit with the last killing. And the fact that he is envious of Wills is sudden and convenient. That is why while the ending is stunning due to its shock value it is not stunning due to its intelligence. How about an alternate scenario of Somerset being envious of Wills - after all the younger man has all the things Somerset does not have - and the killer playing it up during the last ride in the car to evoke wrath in Wills. That could have been worked into the plot right from the beginning subtly without it being sudden and it also would be logical for the killer to use it once he did research on the detectives.

Painting

2009-08-30T01:21:00.000-07:00

I have decided to take up painting again. The sentence implies I have extensively painted some part of my life which is not true. I have dabbled in oil painting off and on with about three or four still lifes and a couple of landscapes and a single portrait. But this time I was going to try water colors. Easier said than done. After struggling with it for a couple of hours, I am feeling extremely incompetent. Maybe I'll try a couple of pencil sketches to soothe my bruised ego.

Statues

2009-08-30T01:14:00.000-07:00

The dust has settled down around the statues of thiruvalluvar and sarvajna. So has all the mutual back scratching. The real achievement is - now both cities have statues to disfigure in times of turmoil.

Thinnai

2009-07-06T06:59:00.000-07:00

It must be something in the tropical Madurai air that makes me want to write. I am sitting on the ‘thinnai’ – a fantastic architectural annexure, more a concept that the modern houses don’t incorporate. I am comfortably cross-legged and my laptop computer truly sits on my lap. The sound of the breeze from the lemon and coconut trees, the distant cawing of a crow the occasional bicycle feels rejuvenating.

There should be some focused incentive programs by government in encouraging one to work from a remote location wherever possible. That is the only way to retain jobs in small towns like Madurai – I already see there is only businesses that prosper and most employed folks live outside the city with their aging parents still living in their houses holding out as long as they could.

The thinnais are deserted.

Train to Madurai

2009-06-06T06:58:00.000-07:00

I did wonder if I should be taking my laptop for the short journey to Madurai - that I thought about it in itself implies I have lost interest in conversations with fellow human beings and that I have actually brought it along confirms that it is indeed true. I think back on the numerous train journeys I have undertaken from Bangalore to Madurai clutching my pillow and an overnight bag – most of the time making an interesting conversation, sometimes making an acquaintance that lasted for a while. I remember the conversation where two of my fellow passengers lambasted the new wave of computer engineers for a couple of hours before asking me what I did. And then there was the guy who unburdened his tragic love story because he ‘felt comfortable’ at the idea of unburdening to an anonymous stranger. And then the man who was newly married and wanted to get some insights into why women think the way they do.

Today the coach is quiet almost like the coach I traveled during my Europe trip – whereas in my memory it is noisy with rambunctious young children and talkative old women.

Go Mallika

2009-04-11T09:02:00.001-07:00

Anytime I read about WWII and Nazi Germany I get a foreboding feeling about the condition in India. Needless to say the man and the place that scares me most are Mr.Modi and Gujarat. For example, if I were to read about the Crystal Night I can easily imagine how the bulk of the citizens of this nation would behave in the same way and how there would be some who would cry from behind curtains but would feel helpless and afraid to take any step.

In the context of all that, I salute Mallika. Whatever the outcome might be, just for taking that step and speaking she deserves a bow.

Jay ho

2009-03-10T23:18:00.000-07:00

Now that the manic coverage of Slumdog Millionnaire is over I at last feel I can say a word or two about the movie and ofcourse ARR - Rahman continues to surprise me with his humility.

Of course almost all commentators went on to say this was not his best work - I was surprised about the vehemence and uniformity of the comment. Granted 'Jai ho' may not be the most pleasing song of Rahman's composition - but isn't that irrelevant? Oscars are given for a particular subset of movies - and in that subset perhaps this song was the best - I find it strange that instead of judging the song within that frame most people were talking about his compositions from ten years ago. It was also extremely unfair to write-off the beautiful background score as the children flee the policaman, during the riots etc..

And we also had our Shobha De and other commentators who felt Slumdog was not an Indian movie and there was no need for us to feel thrilled but went on to say we should be happy about 'Smile Pinky' winning. That logic did stump me quite a bit.

Slumdog is often clever, sometimes irritating, once disgusting, at times disturbing and occassionally boring - there is the clever premise, brilliant screenplay and great direction but somehow it is quite forgettable. In that sense it is in good company with other big oscar winners.

Women characters of Sujatha

2009-02-07T07:46:00.000-08:00

When I read that novel by Sujatha with that hotshot business tycoon Vairavan, I thought 'nice, but unlikely to happen in real life'. And here we have the Satyam saga.

That novel is only one of the many where I ended up disappointed with the female character. Most of the women characters of Sujatha are either slightly dumb or worthy of pity. No doubt one feels extremely sorry for his 'Renuka' or his 'Vidya' from 'Pen yendiram'. But those are few and far between. Most of the female characters are instead irritating and oddly too idiotic.

Take for example lawyer Gannesh - the intellectual dimension that Sujatha brings to that character or that charming rogue Vasanth, who can forget dashing JK - lovable and impressive characterization.

I am unable to reconcile that to the complete lack of similarly strong women. An avid Sujatha reader might point out 'Nithya' of 'Vaiymaye vellum' or 'Nirupama' of 'Edayum orumurai'. But I personally think both characters are quite one-dimensional. They don't have the depth of thought and extensiveness that his strong male characters have. The only two female characters that show minor shades of intellect are both dead before we meet them.

I wonder why.

A brand new year

2008-12-30T04:37:00.000-08:00

A measly dozen or so posts this year. Abysmal performance by Radhika. I already rue what email and blogging have done to my writing skills. I used to write letters that would span pages and pages - after all it didn't seem worth to post a letter that was roughly ten lines. Then came the email revolution and blogging. Now we have micro-blogging! I just have to package my feelings, profound thoughts and moods into a nice capsule of eighty words and voila my friends can follow the nitty-gritty details of my life. I have promptly registered in micro-blogging sites, of course.

Back to Madurai for a short trip. Heard FM radio on the way - somehow had this strong feeling based on TV/Radio, there is hardly any serious discussion going on among the youth. I must be getting old! There wasn't anyone who said anything surprising - people reacted extremely predictably. Very depressing!

Had spent October in Ooty. Was a lot of fun. Now in Yercaud. It is much less touristy than Ooty. I was romanticizing about the bygone years. How much fun it would have been to walk into a lamp lit ball room of an English collector in one of these hill stations. Consoled later that as a brown woman I would not have been allowed or most likely wouldn't have survived the Mudumalai forests.

Flowers on the road

2008-09-07T07:55:00.000-07:00

This morning I decided for a change I will walk to the shop that is a couple of kilometers away instead of wimping out and catching an auto. Thanks to my inability to raise the windows in my car and the rain that had battered the previous evening, I had to navigate potholes and open drains, brave extremely irregular and uncaring traffic, a battalion of street dogs and the strong stench from large dumps with their rotting filth.

African tulips on the rain washed asphalt are easy to spot from within a car.

Monkey Menace

2008-08-09T00:28:00.000-07:00

Apparently some neighborhood monkeys have discovered my apartment complex. I opened the utility patio door to a chaotic scene the other day. Unwashed dishes strewn about, trash can upturned.. I have to read up on what all monkeys can do. I wonder if they can open doors or turn my gas on. They could sneak in through the ventilation slots too. One of these days I am going to find a little monkey sitting on the couch watching TV when I get back home. Then again, it will be in good company.

Remix on the road

2008-08-09T00:19:00.000-07:00

Drove to Thiruvannamalai to see SS. Rain clouds followed throughout and the drive was beautiful. Much to the displeasure of everyone in the car -"You don't like melodies do you" - I played upbeat song, including some remix. "My name is Billa" was fast enough but "Ponmagal vandhal" is the best of the lot. "Engeyum Eppothum" has a hilariously brilliant moment when right after the initial intro you hear a voice, very quick saying "Tharumararukudhuppa". I think quite a few ols dongs will do well with a remix.

Well paved asphalt till Krishnagiri, young trees with flowers on the roadside, the mellow sun made me momentarily wonder where I was.

American food

2008-06-24T10:34:00.000-07:00

Did a short US trip. After a really bad flight full of turbulence that I spent throwing up, I landed in Paris somewhat in a haze. Paris airport folks do a good job of hiding the rest rooms. After spending a lot of time trying to figure out where they were and struggling with the non working water fountains I embarked on the next leg, the haze still quite in place. Every time the air hostess brought the standard airplane fare I was ready to dig my head into the sick bag.

I landed finally in Atlanta after what seemed an eternity and I walked to this food court. Bought this huge sandwich loaded with veggies and a nice thick soup. It was the best lunch (or was it dinner) I had in a long time.

I miss some of those nice sandwiches and soups I used to eat a lot. Getting reminded of the 'is soup a meal' Seinfeld episode.

Donate blood

2008-04-07T19:51:00.000-07:00

I had to struggle to get A negative blood recently for someone undergoing a surgery. Apparently it is rarer than I thought. After multiple phone calls I found a few friends who came by and donated the precious liquid. That in itself was heartening.

And then there was this guy - he caught a bus to travel for about an hour to the hospital, gave the blood and off to catch another bus for another hour long journey. He was not one of those 'I have made all the money - and have all the time in the world' kind of person. From what he told me initially it looked like he had a very ordinary job and most likely struggled to make ends meet. He must have got 'permission' from work.

He left without any expectation of anything - not even a thanks which he could proudly accept - he didn't bother to wait to see me. In that one stroke my cynicism faded and my faith in humanity was restored. They still make people like this?

Happy Bithday

2008-03-07T08:58:00.000-08:00

I was in the middle of an irritating meeting when the phone rang. I did not recognize the overseas number and I picked it up with an abrupt 'hello'.

'Are you busy?', asked the familiar voice. RR calls me whenever the mood strikes him, sometimes once in six months or so. And we pick up the conversation where we left off seamlessly. But it was an odd time for him to call.

'Are you busy?', he asked again. Some wheels cranked in my brain and I asked somewhat frantically - 'What day is it today?'

His voice laced with laughter he said, 'March 6'.

For more than a decade plus now, RR has never once forgotten my birthday. He would call me from wherever he was and wish me. And in the decade plus years I have known him I think I have always managed to miss wishing him on his B'day.

I don't know what I did to deserve a friend who called me on his birthday so that I could wish him and not feel bad later for missing it.

Happy Birthday, Best friend.

Pillion Rider

2008-02-24T07:39:00.000-08:00

A couple roared past us scorching the asphalt. SR observed - "Good. The wife is wearing a helmet too"

I said with a superior smile - "You mean the lady on the back. You can't be sure she is his wife"'

SR gave me this pitying, 'don't be silly' look. "Of course it's his wife. If it were his girl friend she would be plastered all over him", he said.

I had to smile.

Camping

2008-02-24T07:01:00.000-08:00

Spent last weekend pseudo camping. Its pseudo because there was a farm house nearby. RT and AK from work had suggested this idea of a camping trip - trek, tent, cooking outside etc. only we will do all that in AK's farm house.

This was the first time I did anything like it and AK and RT had a great time pulling my leg about the tigers from Bannerghatta possibly visiting my tent. At one point I was seriously doubtful but decided to do it anyway.

AK and his dynamic wife SK are such gracious hosts. After a leisurely lunch, we relaxed for a while. The windy patio, the sun beating on the young trees, the hues of the afternoon mountain made me feel drowsy.

RT set us to work before sunset and we put up our tent.s. RT and his wife AT are ace trekkers and campers. While pitching the tents we were treated to many interesting camping stories from all over the world. Later RT served delicious corn and burgers from his grill.

I rediscovered how bright a gibbous moon would be and heard the night sounds that I had long forgotten. AK treated to us to a melodious rendition of 'Poomalai Vaangi vandhal'. Even his mis-pronunciations were sweet.

The next morning we trekked up the hill. Another first for me. I thought I wouldn' t make it but it was a moment of intense satisfaction to finally go up there and sit on the rocky surface and survey the land below.

I thought I was going to be out for a week or so but I did not feel a thing, except of course a sense of calm.

Sunday afternoon

2008-02-10T04:30:00.001-08:00

I need more than two days for the weekend.. By the time it is sunday afternoon is when I am really ready to unwind. I have finally finished all my weekly chores and I am about ready to decide the music I want to hear and the book I want to read - but it is already time to go back to the weekly grind.

Letters

2008-02-02T22:31:00.000-08:00

There was an interesting article in Ananda Vikatan about letter writing. The author after sharing fond memories of letters- , had listed those friends names wondering whatever happened to them, puzzled why there weren't letters anymore. I could immediately identify with it - having written and received hundreds of letters during the course of high school and college. And these letters were not one pagers. Some of them would require extra stamps. I remember writing letters - sitting on a lonely train compartment once on a journey to Madurai, getting up earlier than usual and writing when the rest of the house was asleep still, scribbling a page in the back of a bill on a rainy afternoon and mailing it as is... Is it the sheer lack of time that has prevented me from writing or the fact that my friends have moved on or perhaps that I use the phone more often?

Or perhaps it is more ominous than that. Even if I were to think while I used to write letters when I wanted to share something and instead now I blog, none of my blogs seem to be more than a page, heck not even a paragraph most of the time! Perhaps I have lost the ability to ponder and have settled for capsulated one liners.

Or perhaps I have discovered finally that brevity is the soul of wit.

Schools

2008-02-02T22:09:00.000-08:00

This Republic day I had a chance to visit two schools.

The first one was a school upper middle class children go to. I sat through an extended assembly. This school had a nice prayer - a poem by Tagore - which could be neutral in terms of religion and could actually also satisfy the atheists if a few lines were dropped. The Pledge, news for the day, thought for the day, the national anthem all brought me back memories of school days. I don't remember ever enjoying the assembly, nor do I remember ever learning anything from it. The kids often speak in a hyper speed, highly nasal voice and half the words are swallowed by the amplifier anyway. Things didn't seemed to have changed much. Except may be the parents with their high tech camera and video equipment capturing that prize winning moment.

The other one was a government school in one of the outskirts of Bangalore. A bunch of us brought some shoes for the kids. This school just a few miles away had seven grades with four teachers and five classrooms - there was no playground and the building was a bit old. It was clear they got their news from kannada movies. There were no parents hanging about - the children dispersed merrily walking home by themselves. [There was the old man who came and promptly took all the empty cartons - talk of entrepreneurship.] There were a couple of computers though I wondered if the kids were really exposed to them.

But at the end of the day - one thing struck me - there wasn't any difference in the brightness in the children's eyes.

Fatigue

2008-01-20T02:28:00.000-08:00

Some of the blogs have this pithy single word update on one's moods. Is one happy, peppy, sad, etc.etc. I wonder whats the right word for my mood these days - probably fatigue - kind of an emotional fatigue - making microwave popcorn for lunch seems such a chore . Makes me wonder if I have finally crossed over and become a bitter, cynical woman who doesn't think anything is worthwhile. -

2007 is the worst in terms of my writing output - no stories. Not even one blog a month!

Finally got back to my one unknown author a month plan. Maybe I'll fare 'better' in 2008.

Where are the women

2007-11-20T06:41:00.000-08:00

I think this is the longest I have gone without blogging. I wonder why. I read my last post - of course I went back to the grind and those emotions are sadly long gone and forgotten. And there were a lot of trivial happiness and annoyances that continue to happen - so I do not know why the trigger to blog seem to have left me.

Anyway.. I notice a curious phenomenon these days. I predominantly see men on the streets. Whatever the time of day - morning, late night, afternoon - whatever the area - residential, construction, official buildings - I see more men, mostly below forty, more in groups. Once I made the initial observation I keep seeing it all the time. I don't have the demographic data to tell if it is just a perception or is backed by data - but my guess is due to the work opportunity we have more men migrating to Bangalore in all levels and there is a distant skew in the man-woman ratio here.

It disturbs me.

Hospitalization

2007-07-31T20:14:00.000-07:00

I had to undergo a surgery. When I conveyed this, almost all the folks told me, somewhat wistfully, think of this as a forced break. It clearly showed me a) All my friends are overworked if that was their first reaction b) Modern medicine is so marvelous that people don't have any doubts about certain surgeries. If this were say 50 years ago, I am sure there would have been more longer faces around me

I actually packed 4-5 books and checked myself in cheerfully. I had this vision of myself, convalescing gently reading books, walking slowly, listening to music, feeling that melancholy feeling. How naive!

One week later I am just back home, barely able to sit and type this. It was like my brain went into some sort of hibernation for a while. I knew in the back of mind there was the ability to read a book or have coherent conversation, but my brain just wouldn't get past the physical discomforts. With all kinds of tubes attached for body and IV fluids, poked and pricked a hundred times, loaded up in antibiotics for the next couple of centuries, for a while I lost sense of time. It was just me and my senses. Especially the sense of smell. I feel in retrospect that was the sense that kind of overworked, keeping me nauseous all the time.

How much I wanted the ability to eat something, anything, to be able to walk to the bathroom myself, to have a shower and feel clean. KJ told me after an illness, he said grace before eating for the first time in his life. I could identify with that.

I thought I'd never ever take for granted my ability to climb up the stairs, my ability to enjoy a nice dish, my ability to read a book late into the night...Of course this too shall pass and I would probably go check my mail and do other trivial things but I wish it didn't, I didn't.

The extremes

2007-07-01T06:34:00.000-07:00

New author for this week was Christopher Priest. To be completely factual though, it was not a random choice like the other authors I had decided to read before. A few weeks ago I saw the movie 'Prestige' and was intrigued enough to pick his book 'The Extremes'.

It is one of those book that can't be pegged and leaves you feeling extremely uneasy. There is the grief and sadness that permeates throughout the book. But, what struck me most as I stared into the rain after reading the final pages was how plausible the premise was. The concept of virtual reality and reconstruction of events in a VR environment or to borrow a trekkie word - a 'holodeck' seems shockingly reachable. A few connections to the appropriate neurons and clever programs and voila - 'extreme experiences'.

Would I want to 'use' the holodeck. I probably would. But would I know enough to realize later what was real and what was virtual. The ending was - not predictable - more inevitable and reminded of 'Vanilla skies'

Another US trip

2007-06-25T09:28:00.000-07:00

Just back from another US trip. TV commentaries were all about the problems of obesity, drop-out rates in school and of course the election.

Law and order still seems to rule the prime time though in different flavors. I must have watched all the old episodes of law and order and star trek in those back to back run days.

I cant believe I haven't blogged in over a month. When I logged in I realized I have been blogging for more than five years now - perhaps not in great volumes but at least a post a month. I tried to see if I have changed in the past years.

I haven't learned anything new. I can not think of a single thing I could do better. Actually, my skills in most areas have deteriorated considerably. On the other hand I am fundamentally the same person. I am still unlikely to join a cult or quit my day job to write the great Indian novel. Is that a blessing?

Chini kum

2007-05-24T07:01:00.000-07:00

Was staring abstractedly out of the car window when my attention snapped. The DJ played the title song chini kum. Five seconds into the evocative composition, I exclaimed - 'Ilayaraja'. It is the same composition as the hit 'Mandram vandha thendralukku'. I thought is has been copied and I even thought that the background music was not up to the original. Apparently the song is credited to Ilayaraja in the new film as well.

I revisited http://www.s-anand.net/Classical_Ilayaraja_4.html

Went to the library. 'Feluda' books are fun to read. Ray never ceases to amaze me.

Rain come again

2007-04-22T06:05:00.000-07:00

Rain always brings out the best in me. It makes me want to read good books, listen to music, write letters to my friends, quit my job...

The quitting my job feeling is compounded because of the trip to Madurai. This time I visited a farm. The man in charge, an interesting character with varied interests, offered lemon juice from and a nice bouquet of flowers all grown there. It was so peaceful and happy. On the trip back, it rained.

Oh well, I better go check my email.

Apocalypto review

2007-03-17T08:45:00.000-07:00

Just finished watching Apocalypto. It is a clear 'Elaine award' winner. I have constituted this award after Elaine Benes from Seinfeld. After a miserable couple of hours of watching 'The English Patient', Elaine screams at the screen, with all the anguish, at the top of her voice - "Die already". Exactly my sentiments after watching Apocalypto. Only it wasn't about the protagonist dying. There was enough people dying as it is. Enough show of hearts and guts and blood and gore. I wanted to shout "What is the bloody point?" Something about a civilization decaying from within... blah..blah...blah.

Perhaps the real point is every other civilization was just full of blood thirsty savages till salvation came in the form of the white man.

Who cares Mayans knew a bit of agriculture and a bit of astronomy? The Eclipse scene was such a cliche and such a joke. Monterroso anyone?

Though I must accede one point to Gibson compared to Spielberg. There was no Indiana Jones.

Boston trip

2007-03-11T05:53:00.003-07:00

I was in Boston a month ago...

Ticket to Boston : Rs. 1,83,000
Cab ride to hotel : Rs. 1500
Hotel rent : Rs. 15,000

Opening the window on a jet-lagged morning to beautiful snowfall : priceless

It was utterly delightful to walk gingerly on snow filled side-walks, shoving my shivering hands deeply into my jacket pocket. It was the first time I saw a frozen river. Absolutely amazing.

Impulsive trips

2007-03-11T05:50:00.000-07:00

Kishore sent a note titled 'Financial impact missing on vizag trip'. Clearly I want to forget that part :)

Nike ad - Cricket

2007-03-11T05:37:00.000-07:00

Whoever thought of and directed the absolutely marvelous Nike Ad deserves a medal. Everything about the Ad is brilliant - the shots, the fast beat of the background music that suddenly picks up with konkani [I thought it was marathi] lyrics, the whole idea of cricket being played on during a traffic jam! Brilliant.

Vizag

2007-02-13T06:18:00.000-08:00

I seem to be consumed with lethargy these days. I am busy at work - but not with the 'good' stress. Sometimes when I am busy I am energized to do more. I call that good stress. Then sometimes its like this. I have a million little things to do and despite what I do I still have them. I am too lethargic to do anything interesting.

Anyway this post isn't about that. I traveled to Vizag this weekend. For a friend's wedding. It was an impulsive spur of the moment thing.

Vizag was beautiful. South India has such a beautiful coastline. The little hills breaking the monotony of the plains were a visual treat from above. I was stunned to see such good roads. Better than Bangalore. I must have commented on it multiple times.

The beach reminded me of Marina. Except here instead of the official buildings there were more sea facing apartments. I wondered if the tsunami had an impact on the cost. I walked on and stood facing the waves. The first kiss of the froth was cool. Later I walked the length of the beach, stopping from time to time to read.

Clouds spoiled my sunrise the next morning. Wedding was fun. Girls take way too much time to dress.

Saddam

2006-12-30T08:01:00.000-08:00

Saddam Hussein is executed. I am actually very surprised to see a link in CNN with Husseins family photos. I wonder how it would be if one were to put the pictures of Saddam with his children [with a close up of the one with a smiling Saddam cheek to cheek with his daughter leaning against him] in a loop and telecast it as an accompaniment to the news. The other interesting aspect is how modern the women in the picture look.

Viral fever

2006-12-22T02:02:00.000-08:00

Fell sick. I have been congratulating myself on being reasonably healthy and then I fall ill. I havent been down and out like this in a long while. Disnt go to work, didnt read... just spent the time on bed coughing my head off. It gave me a great excuse for a lot of things.

Another new year around the corner. Gonna reboot.

Weekend..

2006-11-26T20:47:00.000-08:00

Saw 'Casino Royale', sketched, read trashy romance novels, cooked for friends, read more trashy romance novels..

I was cooking after a really long time for guests. The normal cabbage side dish and the dal turned out to be better received than the malabar curry I labored over.

Casino Royale -perhaps I will write a detailed review. After weeks of lethargy, I am inspired to write.

phantoms in the brain

2006-10-23T21:56:00.000-07:00

A voice piped up a casual 'hi radhika' a few days ago. I was on the phone and when I turned I saw this person, a very familiar face, but I just could not place him. I drew a blank as to where I had met him, what his name was, whether I knew him well.. Complete blank.

I pretended I was on a busy call, gesticulated I'll talk to him later and asked for his email id. A variation of the old and dumb, 'how do you spell your name' ploy.

I just finished reading 'Phantoms in the brain' and I was wondering what this signifies. Maybe I saw him very often so the visual reinforcement was there, but there was no supporting data - perhaps I didnt know anything about him to make associations and thats why I failed to 'remember' him.

What an amazing book though. It left me with a feeling of bereftness. It was almost like I lost my sense of identity. If I were to suffer a stroke in some significant part of the brain, my personality could undergo such a change I would no longer be 'me'. What is me today, perhaps a serendipitous confluence of wiring, could change in a fleeting moment. Made me want to rush out and buy a helmet.

Railway booking

2006-10-15T06:25:00.000-07:00

Had to sit for about an hour to cancel a ticket. Jayanagar booking office had my favourite 'multiple servers single queue' model. No stress of always finding the other queue moving faster and a truly first come first served model. They have chairs to sit and you keep shifting which seemed ungainly initially, but left me thoroughly appreciative by the end of the hour. I couldnt understand the logic behind the pooh bear and mickey mouse stickers adorning the walls. Even some plain vanilla print-outs about the Indian Railway, some impressive numbers and factoids would have been better.

"No chance", was the repeated answer the booking clerk gave to a lady who started off with the 20th and kept going up to the 25th for the date of journey. It is a bit surprising that we made a muddle of something so busy and were running the risk of bankruptcy. I hope Lalu turns his attention next to the horrible Railway stations. If he fixes that, he could definitely give a run for the low cost air carriers' money.

Ryder cup

2006-09-27T08:39:00.000-07:00

US has lost the cup again.

Near my office there is a golf course. I see a surprisingly younger crowd there sometimes in the morning or afternoon when I walk past, looking rater wistfully, I should add. Whatever happened to the middle aged men with pot bellies and bald heads?
The other unexpected sight is the group of women labourers in multi colored saris fixing the grass.

I read PG Wodehouse - Golf stories. I still laugh out loud despite reading for the umpteenth time whatever yarn the Old Sage spins.

Reading the mind

2006-09-21T20:21:00.000-07:00

Very interesting read. At some point we would be able to replace any body part seemlessly without any degradation of service. Nothing could highlight our understanding of the working of the human body better [sans the brain of course]
I should worry more about a head injury I guess than getting 'locked in'.

So lets see what else do I need to be immortal now - I have my DNA, I need a memory download and upload and maybe the Mind-Algorithm specific to my DNA I guess.

Abuse

2006-09-14T09:36:00.000-07:00

I was following a thread in which a man talked about the physical abuse he had experienced at school in a website related to the school. He basically outlined the kind of experience he had had with deep felt emotion and took a stand that the system that condoned this kind of behaviour still might exist and it ought to be brought to light and fixed. Seemed like a no brainer to me. Guess what? The network jumped down his throat - condescension, dismissal and the great - it made me a better man replies abound.

The intriguing aspect to his posting was that it is a military school. It is a rather ironic twist in my opinion to actually expect anything better from an establishment whose main intention is to develop and reward unquestioned loyalty, submission to superiors and aggression.

There is a beautiful dialogue in 'The seige' where Major Devereaux says "Our military is not trained to police a civilian population". Unfortunately nobody asks him why.

funeral rites

2006-09-03T06:07:00.000-07:00

Was steeped to the neck in hindu funeral rites. I found the underlying logic in the elaborate rituals intriguing. For example, in one ritual everything is done in the reverse and it is followed diligently. If you usually go from right to left, in this you go from left to right. If you usually serve food one way, in this you do it the other way. Then there is a million little strict rules on how the 'darbai' has to be held, how it has to be swiped in the ghee so many times, how the food has to be cooked etc. Very complicated, sophisticated and intricate. It must have been embellished over the generations.

I also observed how everyone has a role to play. When the man dies, needless to say in the patriarchal society its the son who is important. But other stakeholders like the daughters, the wife's brothers, the deceased's brothers and cousins all have a role, I noticed with surprise. Its to safeguard the property no doubt, I thought cynically. And that includes the women.

Adult behaviour

2006-08-17T08:48:00.000-07:00

Dont behave like an adult if you can help it. Consistently behave in an immature fashion. Like a petulant child. Random tantrums, illogical behaviour should be thrown in from time to time. I find people constantly clamouring to appease the irrational and are extravagent in their praise when such a person does something remotely sane. I have noticed this time and again especially in a strong job market like in India now.

On a related note, my mothers favourite quote which I cant translate properly is that only the horse thats runs gets beaten.

my blog is blocked

2006-07-19T21:28:00.000-07:00

If you are in India you cant read this blog. Nor googleblog. I skimmed the newspaper this morning and am startled to find such lack of coverage. Cant they squeeze in a bit about free speech and blanket censorship between coverage of potholes and botox treatment?

A totally unrelated observation - I saw two crows flying. The one flying higher dropped a twig [I think] and the one below caught it deftly with its beak. Talk about poetry in motion. Do animals play? I mean non competitive, non sexual, just for the fun of it play. I dont remember Jaren Diamond commenting on it.

Weekend

2006-07-10T08:19:00.000-07:00

Wasted. Not in the druggie alcoholic sense but more in the, did nothing worthwhile sense. After spending Saturday morning staring at the ceiling, went shopping in the evening. Stood in a long queue in front of the fitting room. And was thoroughly irritated by the women with loads of clothes who felt compelled to parade each and everyone of it to their boyfriends or husbands. I wanted to shout ‘make up you mind already’.

Read Melvyn Bragg’s 'A time to dance'. Though it was well written, I didn’t feel very sympathetic or moved about the protagonists. I felt strangely blase about it, though I haven’t read Lolita.

Desingu rajan...

2006-06-25T02:35:00.000-07:00

Reading 'Textures of Time'. Very well written book. Desingu Rajan, I learn now was actually Tej Singh a Rajput prince, in Senji. I laughed remembering the much mustachioed Madhavan pretending to be Desingu raja.

The book gives a wonderfull perspective on whats historical writing. I am yet to come to the tamil version - I am now reading the Marathi version - he is Jai singh in that. The book is such a delight.

Prank

2006-06-15T09:24:00.000-07:00

I try not to blog about work, but this is too good to pass. My colleagues played a prank on my new boss. My boss had been away and was returning after three weeks. Now he had never met me. The interview was over the phone. I had joined during his absence.

This is how the welcome back prank went.

One colleague sent out a message to my boss – “I need to talk to you about some issue” – late last night, setting the ball rolling. My boss walks in around 9:15 AM, asks someone how things were. That person says something like – “Well, not so good. We have some issues with the new lady”. Then someone else walks in and complains about me saying it’s very hard to work with me. Now my boss gets really worried. He takes the first guy a senior person for a 1-1, asking for specifics... Examples... “She is rude, obnoxious” - they all repeat. I got in around this time but as per our plan stayed out of that section. Another lady, a much prettier one at that, walks in and introduces herself as me. She promptly gets on the phone and starts talking loudly some non-work thing. S, the mastermind, asks her about some random server, very politely. ‘I’ respond very rudely. My boss clearly upset now, is trying to get a handle of the situation. ‘I’ step out. More people come in, in sufficient intervals and complain about me. He calls M, who referred me and asks him, “Was she like this in the previous company? Answer me? Everyone is complaining”. He says, “She is going through some personal problems”. My boss is very angry now. He says, “I am going to fire her. Do you have anything to say about that?”

‘I’ had returned to my seat in the meanwhile. Very angry, he calls ‘me’ for a 1X1.
While he was having the 1X1, we all barged in with a 'bakra' cap and I introduced myself.

It was totally hilarious. I must say though he bore it really well. He laughed and said he was a much-relieved man now. Good news is he has a sense of humor. Possible bad news is he might psychologically still think I am like her.

Podcasts I heard

2006-06-14T01:25:00.000-07:00

Last I heard Forum - conversation with Greg Palast. Surprisingly funny. While talking about free speech and England etc., he says matter of factly, "We can give our first amendment to them, we dont use it anyway".

There was also an itconversations piece with a neuro-surgeon. If only I had steady hands..

Changing jobs...

2006-06-01T07:14:00.000-07:00

My new job takes me to this group of buildings hosting a lot of IT companies. It reminds me of this place in New Delhi that I visited long ago. It was a conclave of all sorts of government buildings. I get the same feeling here. Lunch crowd in the food court was too much. I have decided to bring lunch here on.

Since I have already established my gardening abilities, I was most horrified to see a flower in a forgotten plant. Yes horrified. Whole night I tossed and turned imagining it crying for water and finally with all its energy producing a flower to grab my attention proving that it hasnt died. Felt terrible.

Driver's wedding

2006-05-18T05:23:00.000-07:00

Attended my driver's wedding. Thoroughly embarrassing. I was sort of the chief guest. He made sure I blessed the mangal sutra first and his mom held my hand to her eyes. I realized how some thing that wasnt a big deal for me might be one for someone else.

Breaking a streak a man today told me he was jealous of me.

Auto II

2006-05-10T09:22:00.000-07:00

This time the auto driver wasnt maniacal. He was downright suicidal. When I finally arrived at my destination I heaved a sigh of relief. My life would have been utterly unfulfilled if I had died without knowing the results of the assembly elections. Was the exit polls intriguing or what. I have to know if Karthik managed to split the caste vote, if indeed Vijaykanth managed to garner so much support, if poor Vaiko didnt do well. Its a nail biting finish, no doubt.

Auto

2006-05-03T03:03:00.000-07:00

I got into an auto driven by a maniac. Ofcourse this maniac was the only one who would give me a ride. He zipped and zoomed past blurry objects without a care in the world, refusing to allow me to meditate on the plagiarism scandal. Now I dont have anything intelligent to say about the role of the packaging company or genre literature.

Image

2006-05-01T06:23:00.000-07:00

Saw this man sauntering in the mall. An open shirt over a tee, baggy shorts, shades, good shoes - the works. And prominent across his throat, the thread of twice born.

Have been wanting to blog. But my time is spent on watching TV and reading tamil magazines. Election is so entertaining. The tamil voter is being wooed with a remarkable intensity. The campaign is so colorful.

Finished Guns, Germs and Steel. Remarkable, sort of an 'Aha' book. I could almost see the bulb turning on in my brain when I read some passages.

Also discovered some unfinished pieces that I had written long long ago. My writing has deteriorated considerably. It is official. I am getting older, not better. What a depressing thought.

New glasses

2006-04-18T03:11:00.000-07:00

I got a hip new glass. Spectacles that is. I told the optometrist somewhat frantically that there is something wrong with my depth perception after I put it on. He told me in a couple of hours my eyes will adjust. I suppose he meant my brain. What an amazing piece of machinery.

Movies...

2006-04-11T01:38:00.000-07:00

Watched a lot of movies in the last three days - Iqbal, Rang de basanti, part of Sinbad, Byron.

Cant understand what the fuss is all about for Rang de basanti. I thought it was quite mediocre and glib.
Iqbal ranked much better as a mushy movie. Kukkanoor has come a long way from Hyderabad blues. I still think Bolywood calling is his best so far. Nevertheless, Iqbal is to be appreciated for daring to be slow.
Whos bad - Sinbad! Only a hollywood movie can think of a tag line like that.

Byron a BBC production was again a case in point for another bold biography that gets made often in the west. I don't see those much in India. We rarely have good biographical movies that are very honest. Even for people long dead and gone. No doubt because of the fear of getting lynched. A mathematics loving wife [scathingly named princess of parallelograms by Byron] suffering a sensual pleasure seeking husband is worth highlighting.

Election

2006-04-10T01:59:00.000-07:00

Election campaign round one. Definitely the punch dialogue award goes to Vaiko. Kalaignar is busy defending his "Free television" promise, Ms.Jayalalitha is repeating the "Your dear sister" refrain. Vijaykanth doesnt own a TV channel so God knows what he is saying. Yep, Vaiko is definitely the star.

"Free television eh? How about free cable?" - his mocking, fully loaded question was an absolute show stealer - (Kalaignar's extended family owns cable companies).

Lethargy

2006-04-06T02:49:00.000-07:00

Lethargy sets in... I don't want to do anything. Everything seems an effort, everything seems boring... Feel like yawning all the time. Life is like a TV program in a language I dont care to understand.

Then.. music changes. I want to clean up my act, start afresh.. I have this unbound energy!

UK trip..

2006-03-23T02:21:00.000-08:00

Wrote a travelogue of sorts.

Last day quote is from Dean Mahomet the first Indian travelogue writer, immigrant, entrepreneur...

Quixote - Quihotee

2006-03-22T02:29:00.000-08:00

Heard "In our Time" episode about Don Quixote. Bragg, quite resolute, stuck to the English pronounciation of Quixote.

So its not just the English inability to pronounce some names [like that of the talapatra which turned to talpot] but also a refusal to change because now we have adjectives like quixotic. I thought it was thoroughly amusing.

Pick and choose

2006-03-21T00:20:00.000-08:00

While teasing RS about his hourly poll of orkut, I exclaimed with much air of wisdom and condescension - "Ah mating games, they never change". But when I think about it, they have changed.

No more a sudden quote from Santayana or a humming of a few bars from Figaro that subtly hints at a specific taste, no more the thrill of exploration and the joy of the unexpected. Now, we have folks with neat definitions in a blatant board around their neck, conveniently categorized and packaged with appropriate endorsements.

Kodak moment

2006-03-17T04:19:00.000-08:00

RR wanted to celebrate his sister's birthday. For some reason I don't remember now, [this was when we were in college together], no one else was there. So he had insisted, cajoled, demanded that four of us should show up at such and such time at such and such place.

We went late. He must have waited for long and must have left. Feeling terribly guilty we decided to find the place. After some tense moments, we arrived right when she was about to blow the candle with only her brother.

There was an expression on his face - relief, joy, anger everything warring and for once he didn't say anything.

Yesterday, he was waiting to pick me up in the railway station as I arrived for yet another function connected to his sister. I reminded him of this.

evangelists

2006-03-17T01:55:00.000-08:00

Traveled to Tiruppur and back. One of India's fastest growing cities. If they'd only fix the roads before it became a nightmare like Bangalore.

Caught the early morning train. Instead of a chair car that could accommodate 75 people or so, there was a three tier sleeper that could fit 65. Needless to say there were a bunch of unhappy people. One man asked in a very frustrated tone, "Is there a way I can get back to Railway and screw someone's happiness?" I thought the tall TTC, aided by some cancellations did as best a job as he could.

A group of Americans were traveling in the next bay. From my side berth vantage point, I could see a man, from kerala, talking to them. They were munching a lot of goodies and were constantly giving him whatever they were eating. Pringles, chocolates, some kind of nuts. 'Smell it', one American insisted. They were getting quite chummy, smiling, laughing, learning tamil words and of course eating.

After about a couple of hours, out came the huge book - The holy Bible. I couldn't quite hear what was being said, but could easily make out what the pitch was. The Keralite got very unhappy and tensed, I could see from his face.

The American was turning pages pointing to verses from Mathew and Luke and the Indian was answering in very animated gestures. "I am M.Sc Physics", "Do you know who Krishna is?", "I am not afraid of being in Misery" were words that floated towards me escaping the drowning train noise. After a while the conversation ceased with both parties retreating back further into their seats. The American's smile was gone. Neither of them met my eyes after that. [They were smiling at me before]

What I was curious about was were the snacks part of the script or natural Christian charity?

An interesting footnote is another American started talking to another Indian in the same coach in within a few minutes.

Chennai

2006-03-09T01:19:00.000-08:00

Was in chennai over the weekend. Hot. Went to Ramakrishna Mutt. I was surprised how much similar to a church the architecture was. There was even a poor imitation of a stained glass painting. Bought a couple of books in the bookshop.

People often tell me how peaceful it is, but I feel very detached when I visit places such as these. I had the same feeling in Ramanashram. I become very outward noticing people, noticing the place etc., more than normal. Strange.

Protests and rockets

2006-03-02T02:52:00.000-08:00

Time of India carried an article on the first rocket launch in anticipation of the nuclear deal between US and India. A fantastic photograph by Henri Cartier Bresson of a rocket cone being wheeled into Thumba in a bicycle adorned the front page. Reading about the young scientists giving a fresh coat of paint to the rocket just before it blasted off, someone scraping something off so the payload would fit in, the difficulties of synchronizing the timing with a four way conference call was so interesting. It catches ones imagination so much. Kalam was then a young man working for Sarabhai. Why do we not have personalities like Sarabhai anymore?

And Bush arrived yesterday. It looks like everyone turned up for the protest. I'd like to do a survey of the economics related to the protestors. How many are rich? How many are professional protestors [that is belonging to a political party and thus expenses taken care of]? How many lost money because of this? How many gained money because of this

Art - India

2006-03-01T02:14:00.000-08:00

I am very intrigued by the lack of Indian artists till the late nineteenth century, of the calibre of the western ones. We have our Ajanta or Chithannavasal from fifth century. We have our various schools like mysore painting, tanjore painting, mughal paintings etc. But not in the likes of western art that is fueled by the imagination and improvements of individual artists till the modern era.

I wonder if anyone has researched the reason for this. We had techniques. One cannot say its simply a lack of individualism - We have individual marks in music and literature. But not any major Indian artists till perhaps Ravi Varma came into the picture?

Gene

2006-02-28T03:12:00.000-08:00

Walked this afternoon. I love it when I get a chance to walk - I dodge the sprinklers with a spring to my step and raise my chin to the sunshine. I usually make it a point to atleast walk one round without my ipod on. But today the pop tech IT conversations podcast about falling fertility rates in developed countries and the cone and the pyramid model and the associated conflicts it would bring, was so interesting that I listened to it throughout. I am reading 'Posthuman future'. That in combination with this podcast gave me a lot to ponder.

Parineetha

2006-02-21T01:22:00.000-08:00

Watched (and listened of course) to the song 'Kasto Mazza' from Parineetha in VH1. The shots were breathtakingly beautiful with lush scenery and handsome people. The composition has a joyful and longing quality to it. Or maybe its the voice.

I wouldn't have thought of Saif as a splendid actor. But in this song, he has this fantastic expression of tolerant amusement at his own love sickness. There is thisself indulgent smile. In one point, he sighs and shakes his head as though he utterly understands the burden of love, yet enjoys it.

Lured by the song, I rented the movie. Nothing to write home about.

Flu

2006-02-20T01:24:00.000-08:00

Having cold and other flu symptoms. Everything becomes hazy, gets a dreamlike quality when I fall sick. And I wonder about useless things like what am I doing with my life etc.

Havent eaten badly cooked chicken or handled bird droppings recently, so cant be bird flu. So hopefully will get over it.

Email/Chat

2006-02-16T02:36:00.000-08:00

Hilarious.

Unlike the writer of this article, I equate chatting and even email as more of a replacement for verbal communication than an equivalent of a written memo/article. And shortened words are because I cant type as fast as I could speak.

However, I do agree that blogging/email/chat has had a negative effect on my ability to write. Its easily accessible, so I should be spending my time on writing better, but instead, because its easy to reach my friend the moment I write, I don't take the pains to say something elaborate. I don't worry that it better be interesting. I write whatever comes to my mind, quite cryptically. After all, he or she will immediately ask me to clarify, if necessary. I don't argue my point. I make statements. I don't bother about my friend's point because I am too lazy to type, which I would have if we were talking.

I have lost the best of both worlds of talking and writing.

Privacy

2006-02-14T01:19:00.000-08:00

Great news! If I live in a world where eventually everyone can get all the details about everyone else [Sort of like the street I grew up in] I dont have to stress about revealing personal information in my blog. What a relief. All those pictures I have to crop my face out before putting it up in the web - no more.

Temporary autism

2006-02-07T22:31:00.000-08:00

I hate confrontations. Usually I am a model citizen [tongue in cheek], meekly taking the injustices/unfair treatments, shrugging it off as part of life. Yesteday I confronted. I yelled. And I was thinking how my mind was not registering the details it would usually do, how it was so inward.

I had an epiphany. This was the temporary autism in a charged situation that Gladwell talks about. Thankfully I didnt have a trigger to pull.

It also brought back my usual - 'I am so unobservant' lament. There must be some mental exercises. There is a beautiful story by Jeffrey Archer. He has dinner with a friend who talks about becoming a writer but fails to notice things happening around him. "What Japanese men?" or some such is the ending.

Jetlag

2006-01-31T01:37:00.000-08:00

Jet lag should be kicking in about now. But I feel fine. I cant remember feeling jetlagged during any of my trips. My body must be too stupid to have an internal clock. All that sunshine and it happily adjusts.