The media is abuzz about Bobby Jindal's being elected the governor of Louisiana. Now, I can't proclaim to make a confident political commentary nor am I inclined to make any sort of personal comments, but thought I would quickly jot down some of the facts that you can ponder about!
1. Louisiana is one of the states with lowest immigration stock.
2. It is also the nation's poorest state, measured by per capita and one of its unhealthiest; the worst in infant mortality; and the least educated. It is last in attracting new college-educated workers (Source : The NY times)
3. Bobby Jindal, in his owns words, is 100% against abortion. He originally belongs to the country with the second highest population in the world.
4. Jindal is an enthusiastic supporter of the war in Iraq. In 2005, Jindal led other freshman Republican House members in dipping their fingers in purple dye to celebrate the 2005 Iraqi national elections (Source : Wikipedia)
5. His comments on the Hurricane Katrina "The storms didn’t cause all of our problems —they revealed a lot of our problems. It’s an incredible opportunity to change the state.”
Monday, October 22, 2007
Friday, October 19, 2007
A Brief Sojourn at The Coffee Kingdom
You would think writing about a blissful holiday should be something that one would normally jump at...But then again, you are also probably one of those kinds who does not know how to get an assprint permanently embossed on your chair. So trust me, you would not understand!
Late last August, we decided to take a break from the oft-repeated off-beaten tracks of Goa and venture into something that we have not tried too much together. I could only muster up a couple of days off and so the war between coffee kingdoms was won by Chikmagulur. Honestly, I have been very keen on doing Coorg, but we thought it would be better if we could try that when we have more time on my hands and more dough in our pockets (I don't know whether that will EVER happen!).
Chikmagulur, for the slightly intiated, is Cafe Coffee Day County. For the totally uninitiated, is nestled between the big and beautiful mountain ranges of Baba Budan Giri, about 260 kms off Bangalore. Known for its rich coffee estates on its outer fringes, it is actually a quaint little town with little country clubs where the rich coffee lords and their plump wives get together and drink anything but coffee!
We took an overnight KSRTC Volvo bus from Bangalore (started at about 11.30 p.m) and the journey to Chikmagulur took around 6 hours. So in the wee hours of the morning, we found ourselves in the middle of a quiet bus stand. Luckily, I had earlier managed to get some contact details of hotels on karnataka tourism website and had done a phone booking at what seemed (online!) to be a decent place called Planter's Court. It turned out to be fairly decent hotel, with a nice Udipi restaurant bordering it. That place served the best coffee that I have had in a very loooong time(Not counting Mum's..) - strong, dark, not-so-sweet and more importantly, non-stringent!!
Armed with a very scanty knowledge about the town , we set out to check out 'Ratnagiri Park', which was part of the town itself. This park had its own little toy train, tree house, a pond and the likes. Pretty much the standard stuff, but the main attraction was the breathtaking view of the surrounding hills.
It was about mid-afternoon, when we made our way to the bus-stand again to enquire about how to get to either Mullainagiri or Baba Budan Giri.
From whatever little information we could gather from the locals, the former was the highest peak in Karnataka and the latter was the main point of attraction. Given the time we had on our hands, we decided to rent a jeep to head to Mullainagiri. The ride was quite torturous thanks to the generous monsoon-induced potholes on the road. Couple that with the absence of any sort of barricades on the mountain paths, beyond which there also seemed to be abyss all fogged out, the ride was quite a memorable one!
We reached the point from where we had to trek up a flight of stairs to get to a little temple. This was supposed to signify the highest point in Karnataka. The trek turned out to be a bit more arduous than we expected, simply because it was VERY chilly AND it was raining!! We didn't have windcheaters and since we didn't want to get out sweatshirts wet, we had to endure the climb wearing only our t-shirts. Needless to say, we were soon soaked to the bones due to the rain! Not to mention, we were virtually unprotected against the cold wind. We eventually managed to get to the peak and as it turns out, the temple itself was closed! We would have ideally lingered on there for longer, but for the rain and cold wind...So we got our asses back to firm ground soon!
Dinner was at the Club house in the hotel itself...Being a Sunday night, there seemed to be a lot of the usual family dinner outings in progress..Most of the tables there seemed to house people belonging to either one of these categories:
a) the newly-wed kinds crouching towards in barely-visible corners.
b) the quintessential nuclear family types ( You know..with the husband staring jealously at the men who get to smoke, the wife stealing glances at the fake jewellery of the woman in the next table, the children looking ever so bored even while staring at the TV screens)
c) the oh-so-long table - with all the uncles on one side and all the aunties on one side and the conversation same-sex based!
d) And One table for the resident "tourists"! Us! Our camera, our extra layers of clothing in otherwise warm room, the hoots of excitement at finding a peg of premium whiksky for less than 50 bucks et al - think all these gave us away ;)
We began Day 2 with what else but filter coffee!! After a nice Udipi breakfast, we headed again to busstand from where we were to take a bus to Baba Budan Giri. After a wait of nearly an hour in the bus, which was spent in reading aloud a play and gathering some "why-don't-you-just-shut-up" glances, we began our nearly two hour journey to the hills..
The picturesque ride was quite worth all the effort! The road winds and unwinds through the green ranges..
We passed a few estates and were told that the monsoon is not the best time to visit these estates because of the impending danger of leeches! The mid-day mist seem to a large icing on the big green cake that the ranges were! We reached the point beyond which we had to take a jeep to reach the waterfall, which was about 3 kms up...We could have trekked this journey, but for the lack of time - we had to be back by 4-4.30 in order to catch the return bus back to Chikmagulur...
More than waterfall itself, the instant thing to greet you were the amount of clothes strewn around near the waterfall!
We suspected it to be chaddis which people flung after taking a shower in the waterfall! There were also these stones which were being worshipped as a deity...In true southie style, people broke coconuts before this deity..Of course these seem to be offerings more for the monkeys in and around the place than for the God!!
The view of the valley from this point was so breathtaking and it was made even more enjoyable by the hot chai and pakodas! We then headed to this cave shrine which was popularly known as the "hindu-muslim" temple! It actually turned to a beautiful dargah tucked away beneath the ground in a cave, where natural rock formations were being worshipped..Although Photography was prohibited, I couldn't help sneak in a couple of shots of the place!
We began the journey back down and were back in Chikmagulur by the dusk...Dinner was back at the Clubhouse..But it was a lot quieter that day! And this time, we ensured we didn't look the part of tourists so much! After sleeping for a few hours, we were up before dawn to catch the bus back to Bangalore...It was a trip unlike anything we have ever had and we are sure to remember the beautiful town and its heavenly surroundings for a looong while!
Late last August, we decided to take a break from the oft-repeated off-beaten tracks of Goa and venture into something that we have not tried too much together. I could only muster up a couple of days off and so the war between coffee kingdoms was won by Chikmagulur. Honestly, I have been very keen on doing Coorg, but we thought it would be better if we could try that when we have more time on my hands and more dough in our pockets (I don't know whether that will EVER happen!).
Chikmagulur, for the slightly intiated, is Cafe Coffee Day County. For the totally uninitiated, is nestled between the big and beautiful mountain ranges of Baba Budan Giri, about 260 kms off Bangalore. Known for its rich coffee estates on its outer fringes, it is actually a quaint little town with little country clubs where the rich coffee lords and their plump wives get together and drink anything but coffee!
We took an overnight KSRTC Volvo bus from Bangalore (started at about 11.30 p.m) and the journey to Chikmagulur took around 6 hours. So in the wee hours of the morning, we found ourselves in the middle of a quiet bus stand. Luckily, I had earlier managed to get some contact details of hotels on karnataka tourism website and had done a phone booking at what seemed (online!) to be a decent place called Planter's Court. It turned out to be fairly decent hotel, with a nice Udipi restaurant bordering it. That place served the best coffee that I have had in a very loooong time(Not counting Mum's..) - strong, dark, not-so-sweet and more importantly, non-stringent!!
Armed with a very scanty knowledge about the town , we set out to check out 'Ratnagiri Park', which was part of the town itself. This park had its own little toy train, tree house, a pond and the likes. Pretty much the standard stuff, but the main attraction was the breathtaking view of the surrounding hills.
It was about mid-afternoon, when we made our way to the bus-stand again to enquire about how to get to either Mullainagiri or Baba Budan Giri.
From whatever little information we could gather from the locals, the former was the highest peak in Karnataka and the latter was the main point of attraction. Given the time we had on our hands, we decided to rent a jeep to head to Mullainagiri. The ride was quite torturous thanks to the generous monsoon-induced potholes on the road. Couple that with the absence of any sort of barricades on the mountain paths, beyond which there also seemed to be abyss all fogged out, the ride was quite a memorable one! We reached the point from where we had to trek up a flight of stairs to get to a little temple. This was supposed to signify the highest point in Karnataka. The trek turned out to be a bit more arduous than we expected, simply because it was VERY chilly AND it was raining!! We didn't have windcheaters and since we didn't want to get out sweatshirts wet, we had to endure the climb wearing only our t-shirts. Needless to say, we were soon soaked to the bones due to the rain! Not to mention, we were virtually unprotected against the cold wind. We eventually managed to get to the peak and as it turns out, the temple itself was closed! We would have ideally lingered on there for longer, but for the rain and cold wind...So we got our asses back to firm ground soon!
Dinner was at the Club house in the hotel itself...Being a Sunday night, there seemed to be a lot of the usual family dinner outings in progress..Most of the tables there seemed to house people belonging to either one of these categories:
a) the newly-wed kinds crouching towards in barely-visible corners.
b) the quintessential nuclear family types ( You know..with the husband staring jealously at the men who get to smoke, the wife stealing glances at the fake jewellery of the woman in the next table, the children looking ever so bored even while staring at the TV screens)
c) the oh-so-long table - with all the uncles on one side and all the aunties on one side and the conversation same-sex based!
d) And One table for the resident "tourists"! Us! Our camera, our extra layers of clothing in otherwise warm room, the hoots of excitement at finding a peg of premium whiksky for less than 50 bucks et al - think all these gave us away ;)
We began Day 2 with what else but filter coffee!! After a nice Udipi breakfast, we headed again to busstand from where we were to take a bus to Baba Budan Giri. After a wait of nearly an hour in the bus, which was spent in reading aloud a play and gathering some "why-don't-you-just-shut-up" glances, we began our nearly two hour journey to the hills..The picturesque ride was quite worth all the effort! The road winds and unwinds through the green ranges..
We passed a few estates and were told that the monsoon is not the best time to visit these estates because of the impending danger of leeches! The mid-day mist seem to a large icing on the big green cake that the ranges were! We reached the point beyond which we had to take a jeep to reach the waterfall, which was about 3 kms up...We could have trekked this journey, but for the lack of time - we had to be back by 4-4.30 in order to catch the return bus back to Chikmagulur...
More than waterfall itself, the instant thing to greet you were the amount of clothes strewn around near the waterfall!
We suspected it to be chaddis which people flung after taking a shower in the waterfall! There were also these stones which were being worshipped as a deity...In true southie style, people broke coconuts before this deity..Of course these seem to be offerings more for the monkeys in and around the place than for the God!!
The view of the valley from this point was so breathtaking and it was made even more enjoyable by the hot chai and pakodas! We then headed to this cave shrine which was popularly known as the "hindu-muslim" temple! It actually turned to a beautiful dargah tucked away beneath the ground in a cave, where natural rock formations were being worshipped..Although Photography was prohibited, I couldn't help sneak in a couple of shots of the place!
We began the journey back down and were back in Chikmagulur by the dusk...Dinner was back at the Clubhouse..But it was a lot quieter that day! And this time, we ensured we didn't look the part of tourists so much! After sleeping for a few hours, we were up before dawn to catch the bus back to Bangalore...It was a trip unlike anything we have ever had and we are sure to remember the beautiful town and its heavenly surroundings for a looong while!
Thursday, August 02, 2007
I remember....
The smile that this evergreen opening credits inspired..
Off you go..down the memory lane!
P.S: Sidd/Nitin - This is for you guys!
Off you go..down the memory lane!
P.S: Sidd/Nitin - This is for you guys!
Monday, July 30, 2007
Last Kiss
Much as I am a sucker for movies with good soundtracks, the real reason I wanted to pick up the DVD for this movie, 'Last Kiss' was the whole plot surrounding the big ‘3-0(h)’ crisis. True, it’s probably NOT the most original of concepts (It’s also adapted from an Italian movie called ‘L’Ultimo Bacio’) – The protagonist is fast approaching his 30th birthday, has a job that he is good at, has a girlfriend who just seems perfect in more ways than one and is going to have a baby with her. It’s sort of like the ideal situation that he has always wanted to be in when he hits the 30 mark. But of course, not all is fine. The fact that life seems too programmed and planned out is a little too scary for him. There doesn’t seem to be any lofty surprises in store in the future too. So he chokes, acts on the first temptation that comes his way and then everything comes crashing down hard.
So what’s interesting about a ‘rosy-life-suddenly-turns-sour’ story, you ask? Well, for one – the movie is a mere instrument to tell the story, as it is. It’s completely brazen in its honesty. While the story unfolds with the choices that the protagonist makes and the repercussions that it has on his relationship with his girlfriend, it does not falter into taking sides and getting into an unnecessary imbroglio of pity-induced patronage of the victim and unabated bashing of the wrongdoer. There’s no good vs. evil spin here and most of the characters are in some sort of fix when it comes to their relationships. All due credit needs to be given to the right casting choices as well. Zach Braff is just right for the role of the guy who is thrown into the throngs of confusion by how well life has worked out and how not very happy he is with that situation. Even though he visibly screws up by sleeping with a college girl, he does not immediately end up becoming hate-worthy in the eyes of the audience.
The movie just brought back the thoughts that I have always had about relationships. After being in one for close to four years now, I have come around to accepting one thing - ultimately you cannot escape that one truth about relationships– More often than not, it does not come easy. Sometimes, you just can’t expect it to assume its natural course. It does not all fall into place and you have to work very hard at it. Especially if you are one who has always lived life on your own terms, there will be times when your priorities, desires, ambitions and even inhibitions INDIVIDUALLY would threaten to gain more importance over the pathway that both of you have laid out for each other as a couple. When it comes down to a collision path such as that, I guess compromise works. But then again, I do believe the answer is finally lies in – well, the choices you make. Sometimes they are hard, sometimes they are plain friggin’ obvious. But heck, one way or the other, you have ‘em!
So what’s interesting about a ‘rosy-life-suddenly-turns-sour’ story, you ask? Well, for one – the movie is a mere instrument to tell the story, as it is. It’s completely brazen in its honesty. While the story unfolds with the choices that the protagonist makes and the repercussions that it has on his relationship with his girlfriend, it does not falter into taking sides and getting into an unnecessary imbroglio of pity-induced patronage of the victim and unabated bashing of the wrongdoer. There’s no good vs. evil spin here and most of the characters are in some sort of fix when it comes to their relationships. All due credit needs to be given to the right casting choices as well. Zach Braff is just right for the role of the guy who is thrown into the throngs of confusion by how well life has worked out and how not very happy he is with that situation. Even though he visibly screws up by sleeping with a college girl, he does not immediately end up becoming hate-worthy in the eyes of the audience.
The movie just brought back the thoughts that I have always had about relationships. After being in one for close to four years now, I have come around to accepting one thing - ultimately you cannot escape that one truth about relationships– More often than not, it does not come easy. Sometimes, you just can’t expect it to assume its natural course. It does not all fall into place and you have to work very hard at it. Especially if you are one who has always lived life on your own terms, there will be times when your priorities, desires, ambitions and even inhibitions INDIVIDUALLY would threaten to gain more importance over the pathway that both of you have laid out for each other as a couple. When it comes down to a collision path such as that, I guess compromise works. But then again, I do believe the answer is finally lies in – well, the choices you make. Sometimes they are hard, sometimes they are plain friggin’ obvious. But heck, one way or the other, you have ‘em!
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
'ALJ' Residency!
Heck...It's been an awfully long hiatus from blogging that any excuse, how much ever valid I can make it to be, would probably not work!
Anyway, I just had to write about this! An excerpt of a typical conversation that I find myself in the middle of, over and over again! As you will soon see, I really don't need to be wearing that " I am with Stupid" Tee !!
Act I/Scene 1- It's a Tuesday Evening at about 7.30 p.m. I was, not surprisingly, still stuck at work when my pal Sidd buzzes me.
Sidd : Give me a good word beginning with 'J'
Me : Jazzy! But hey, wait a minute, what the fuck do you need it for?
Sidd : Just tell me please!
Me : What is it for?! You are in the one in need!
Sidd : Bitch! Stop analyzing things so much!
Me : So why do you need it?!
Sidd : Argh! We are trying to come up with what ALJ could stand for... (ALJ Residency is the name of the apartment that Sidd stays at and we have no friggin' clue what ALJ stands for! You are probably wondering at this juncture as to why Sidd wants to expand the abbreviated form..That's probably because you don't know him and you also don't know that he takes special pride in saying outrageous things like "I have made out with (insert fabricated number) women! So what if I haven't gotten laid in the last two years!!" )
Me: Ahhh well...Lets see... It could be 'Association of....'
Sidd: No, no..we are looking at something like 'All about..'
Me: There aren't two A's in ALJ! It should be 'Association of Losers and....'
Sidd: Shuddddup!!!
Me: Jokers! There you go! How more appropriate can it get!
'Association of Losers and Jokers' Residency!! You are born so that you can live in this house!!
Sidd : What nonsense! Don't forget the other occupants! Especially Mr. Sandy 'Don Juan' G! We are talking about the studs of Bandra here!
Me : All the more reason for it to be called 'Association of
Losers and Jokers' residency! It's like the house for the socially handicapped!! I think I am gonna start publicizing this name now!
Sidd: You don't know who you are messing around with! After all,
you are talkinga bout the neighbours of Katty Kaif!! (Incidentally Ms.Kaif is 'supposedly' staying at an apartment off Waterfield Road, which is a good three lanes away from where these guys stay!
Me : Neighbour, my left ass! Oh hey...You guys can have another
roomie too! Kelly Dorji!
(About two months back, Mr. Dorji was alleged to have been shopping for veggies at the Pali Market, which is next to ALJ. A swank Lexus was also seen to be standing near with Lara Dutta sitting inside and sipping a frappe! Once Kelly Dorji was done shopping, he climbed back into the driver's seat...)
Sidd : Kelly Dorji is also a stud! He will fit right in!
Me : Right-o! A stud who shops and drives for his girlfriend! Now that he has been dumped and is staying at Versova, you guys should ask him to move in! After all, it's the house where the socially handicapped stay!
Sidd: Get lost! Women throng to our house! You are also one
of 'em! It's because it's the most happening spot in Bandra!!
Me : We visit so that you socially handicapped folks won't feel
left out! We show you some sympathy!
Sidd : You wretch! We will come up with a cool name...You just wait
and watch! Bye!
Me : Cya loser!
Act I/Scene 2 - It's about 10 p.m the same evening.I am lazing on my beanbag at home when I get a lameass SMS from Sidd. It reads 'Hi! Congratulations! You have been chosen as one of the esteemed friends of the occupants of the 'Absolute Love and Josh' Residency!' (LMAO! It should have probably read friends of 'esteemed' occupants...but then you have to excuse my friends...They are after all Losers/Jokers!) Then my phone rings again..
Sidd : So, did you get our SMS?
Me : Yeah! And I am still in splits..You guys are such losers!
Sidd : Shuddup! Thank your lucky stars that you are on our list and
you got this SMS!
Me : Lemme talk a not-so-wild guess! There were two people on that list...Me and Mishti (Sandy's girlfriend)..If Mishti's around at your place, then probably the list had only my name!
Sidd : What nonsense! We have such a long list!
Me : So who else is on the list?!
Sidd : That's classified information!
Me : Haha! You guys truly belong in the 'Association of Losers
and Jokers' Residency!
Sidd : You wretch! It's 'Absolute Love and Josh' Residency! Good night!
(Yes, yes...the rest of our conversations are also as pointless as this!)
Anyway, I just had to write about this! An excerpt of a typical conversation that I find myself in the middle of, over and over again! As you will soon see, I really don't need to be wearing that " I am with Stupid" Tee !!
Act I/Scene 1- It's a Tuesday Evening at about 7.30 p.m. I was, not surprisingly, still stuck at work when my pal Sidd buzzes me.
Sidd : Give me a good word beginning with 'J'
Me : Jazzy! But hey, wait a minute, what the fuck do you need it for?
Sidd : Just tell me please!
Me : What is it for?! You are in the one in need!
Sidd : Bitch! Stop analyzing things so much!
Me : So why do you need it?!
Sidd : Argh! We are trying to come up with what ALJ could stand for... (ALJ Residency is the name of the apartment that Sidd stays at and we have no friggin' clue what ALJ stands for! You are probably wondering at this juncture as to why Sidd wants to expand the abbreviated form..That's probably because you don't know him and you also don't know that he takes special pride in saying outrageous things like "I have made out with (insert fabricated number) women! So what if I haven't gotten laid in the last two years!!" )
Me: Ahhh well...Lets see... It could be 'Association of....'
Sidd: No, no..we are looking at something like 'All about..'
Me: There aren't two A's in ALJ! It should be 'Association of Losers and....'
Sidd: Shuddddup!!!
Me: Jokers! There you go! How more appropriate can it get!
'Association of Losers and Jokers' Residency!! You are born so that you can live in this house!!
Sidd : What nonsense! Don't forget the other occupants! Especially Mr. Sandy 'Don Juan' G! We are talking about the studs of Bandra here!
Me : All the more reason for it to be called 'Association of
Losers and Jokers' residency! It's like the house for the socially handicapped!! I think I am gonna start publicizing this name now!
Sidd: You don't know who you are messing around with! After all,
you are talkinga bout the neighbours of Katty Kaif!! (Incidentally Ms.Kaif is 'supposedly' staying at an apartment off Waterfield Road, which is a good three lanes away from where these guys stay!
Me : Neighbour, my left ass! Oh hey...You guys can have another
roomie too! Kelly Dorji!
(About two months back, Mr. Dorji was alleged to have been shopping for veggies at the Pali Market, which is next to ALJ. A swank Lexus was also seen to be standing near with Lara Dutta sitting inside and sipping a frappe! Once Kelly Dorji was done shopping, he climbed back into the driver's seat...)
Sidd : Kelly Dorji is also a stud! He will fit right in!
Me : Right-o! A stud who shops and drives for his girlfriend! Now that he has been dumped and is staying at Versova, you guys should ask him to move in! After all, it's the house where the socially handicapped stay!
Sidd: Get lost! Women throng to our house! You are also one
of 'em! It's because it's the most happening spot in Bandra!!
Me : We visit so that you socially handicapped folks won't feel
left out! We show you some sympathy!
Sidd : You wretch! We will come up with a cool name...You just wait
and watch! Bye!
Me : Cya loser!
Act I/Scene 2 - It's about 10 p.m the same evening.I am lazing on my beanbag at home when I get a lameass SMS from Sidd. It reads 'Hi! Congratulations! You have been chosen as one of the esteemed friends of the occupants of the 'Absolute Love and Josh' Residency!' (LMAO! It should have probably read friends of 'esteemed' occupants...but then you have to excuse my friends...They are after all Losers/Jokers!) Then my phone rings again..
Sidd : So, did you get our SMS?
Me : Yeah! And I am still in splits..You guys are such losers!
Sidd : Shuddup! Thank your lucky stars that you are on our list and
you got this SMS!
Me : Lemme talk a not-so-wild guess! There were two people on that list...Me and Mishti (Sandy's girlfriend)..If Mishti's around at your place, then probably the list had only my name!
Sidd : What nonsense! We have such a long list!
Me : So who else is on the list?!
Sidd : That's classified information!
Me : Haha! You guys truly belong in the 'Association of Losers
and Jokers' Residency!
Sidd : You wretch! It's 'Absolute Love and Josh' Residency! Good night!
(Yes, yes...the rest of our conversations are also as pointless as this!)
Saturday, November 19, 2005
The Sophisticated Beggar
"He may be cantankerous and opinionated but through all this he remains a highly intelligent poet and a hopeless romantic blessed with a remarkable voice. Mostly, his entire recorded output is hugely underrated."
Lots have been said about Roy Harper - his prowess with the verses, his vehement self-indulgence, his lack of commercial success at a time when new arts and music movements were taking shape in a rampant manner, his stubbornness and uncomprising attitude when it comes toning down his opinions and according to me, mostly his opinions itself...But few and far between have stood the test of time as singer/songwriters who carved their own place in history by virtue of their poetical words alone. And Roy Harper tops my personal list of such people.
It's ironical that much of his popularity came thanks to the tribute paid by Led Zeppelin in their track, "Hats Off to (Roy) Harper". According to the band's axe man, Jimmy Page, who had collaborated with Harper on a few occasions, he was known best for his unflinching revert in the face of heavy pressure for being a sell out and a sucker for commercial success. A man who refused to tone down his views came to known more this act of his, rather than the views itself. In fact this part of his persona seemed to befit the message behind Pink Floyd's hit, "Have a Cigar", a song for which he lent his vocals.
While his biggest hit till date remains to be "When a Cricketer Leaves the Crease",a song where a cricketer retiring from the game is used a metaphor for life itself, the song which defines him and his music to me has been the track " I hate the white man", from his album "Flat Berserk and Baroque". This album was his first with his long lasting record label, Harvest Records, which led to him to Peter Jenner, the guy behind Pink Floyd's records, who would eventually start producing Harper's music too.
The track starts off with a monologue about the difference between the rich people and poor people with the background of their distinction being seemingly brought out by music.Harper maintains a very serene tone throughout the message while the undercurrent of the speech, the message itself, is anything but subtle. Here is the song which follows the speech. The man, when he opines, makes sure he leaves us gulping and how! Like any song with a strong message, this one is long. But the part that I always tend to concentrate its sheer poetic brilliance and the melody it has been constructed on. Boy! If I had a nickel for everytime I can come up with something like...."where the barefoot dream of life Can laugh and cry its fill ", "teargas happiness", "plastic excuse", "And sits to warm his toes around A fire made up of useless thoughts"!!
Lots have been said about Roy Harper - his prowess with the verses, his vehement self-indulgence, his lack of commercial success at a time when new arts and music movements were taking shape in a rampant manner, his stubbornness and uncomprising attitude when it comes toning down his opinions and according to me, mostly his opinions itself...But few and far between have stood the test of time as singer/songwriters who carved their own place in history by virtue of their poetical words alone. And Roy Harper tops my personal list of such people.
It's ironical that much of his popularity came thanks to the tribute paid by Led Zeppelin in their track, "Hats Off to (Roy) Harper". According to the band's axe man, Jimmy Page, who had collaborated with Harper on a few occasions, he was known best for his unflinching revert in the face of heavy pressure for being a sell out and a sucker for commercial success. A man who refused to tone down his views came to known more this act of his, rather than the views itself. In fact this part of his persona seemed to befit the message behind Pink Floyd's hit, "Have a Cigar", a song for which he lent his vocals.
While his biggest hit till date remains to be "When a Cricketer Leaves the Crease",a song where a cricketer retiring from the game is used a metaphor for life itself, the song which defines him and his music to me has been the track " I hate the white man", from his album "Flat Berserk and Baroque". This album was his first with his long lasting record label, Harvest Records, which led to him to Peter Jenner, the guy behind Pink Floyd's records, who would eventually start producing Harper's music too.
The track starts off with a monologue about the difference between the rich people and poor people with the background of their distinction being seemingly brought out by music.Harper maintains a very serene tone throughout the message while the undercurrent of the speech, the message itself, is anything but subtle. Here is the song which follows the speech. The man, when he opines, makes sure he leaves us gulping and how! Like any song with a strong message, this one is long. But the part that I always tend to concentrate its sheer poetic brilliance and the melody it has been constructed on. Boy! If I had a nickel for everytime I can come up with something like...."where the barefoot dream of life Can laugh and cry its fill ", "teargas happiness", "plastic excuse", "And sits to warm his toes around A fire made up of useless thoughts"!!
Friday, October 14, 2005
History 101 by Paul Simon
I been Norman Mailered,MaxwellTaylored.
I been John O'Hara'd,McNamara'd.
I been Rolling Stoned and Beatled till I'm blind.
I been Ayn Randed, nearly branded
Communist, 'cause I'm left-handed.
That's the hand I use, well, never mind!
I been Phil Spectored, resurrected.
I been Lou Adlered, Barry Sadlered.
Well, I paid all the dues I want to pay.
And I learned the truth from Lenny Bruce,
And all my wealth won't buy me health,
So I smoke a pint of tea a day.
I knew a man, his brain was so small,
He couldn't think of nothing at all.
He's not the same as you and me.
He doesn't dig poetry. He's so unhip that
When you say Dylan, he thinks you're talking about Dylan Thomas,
Whoever he was.
The man ain't got no culture,
But it's alright, ma,
Everybody must get stoned.
I been Mick Jaggered, silver daggered.
Andy Warholed, won't you please come home?
I been mothered, fathered, aunt and uncled,
Been Roy Haleed and Art Garfunkeled.
I just discovered somebody's tapped my phone
- A Simple Desultory Philippic(Or How I was Lyndon Johnsoned into Submission) by Paul Simon
I been John O'Hara'd,McNamara'd.
I been Rolling Stoned and Beatled till I'm blind.
I been Ayn Randed, nearly branded
Communist, 'cause I'm left-handed.
That's the hand I use, well, never mind!
I been Phil Spectored, resurrected.
I been Lou Adlered, Barry Sadlered.
Well, I paid all the dues I want to pay.
And I learned the truth from Lenny Bruce,
And all my wealth won't buy me health,
So I smoke a pint of tea a day.
I knew a man, his brain was so small,
He couldn't think of nothing at all.
He's not the same as you and me.
He doesn't dig poetry. He's so unhip that
When you say Dylan, he thinks you're talking about Dylan Thomas,
Whoever he was.
The man ain't got no culture,
But it's alright, ma,
Everybody must get stoned.
I been Mick Jaggered, silver daggered.
Andy Warholed, won't you please come home?
I been mothered, fathered, aunt and uncled,
Been Roy Haleed and Art Garfunkeled.
I just discovered somebody's tapped my phone
- A Simple Desultory Philippic(Or How I was Lyndon Johnsoned into Submission) by Paul Simon
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Oh! Play that thing!
Maybe it was those years of NEVER forgetting to sign off a post on a forum without a N.P postscript...I have decided to tattoo my now playing list onto the side bar. It might not be very up-to-date (Where's technology when you need it? You have saunas in belts and T.Vs on your wrist, but those geekiod dudes haven't still figured out how to get my CD player to talk to my blog!), but hey, at least then, the oft-imposed "stop embrassing yourself" routines, would make me stop listening to Fiddy Cent ;)
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Rockin' with a Southern Twang
After one of my most adventurous shopping sprees, I found myself staring at a list that definitely needed a categorization called "Miscellaneous" in my CD rack. One among them was a more contemporary buy - Drops of Jupiter by Train.
This record has served as a much needed respite to my otherwise progressive-music-obsessed ear drums. Train's sound is very definitive throughout the course of album, bringing back flashes of reminiscences of altie bands bordering classic rock such as Counting Crows . Yet Patrick Monahan's southern twangy vocals give that not-so-somber edge to the tracks . And what is the most surprising element to the record, the band and the genre as a whole is their extensive employment of orchestrative elements to certain tracks, including the title one, which has apparently gone platinum. Somehow I could so imagine Michael Stipe aceing this track with much ease in a vocal trip which seemed (to me) to have been composed with him and only him in the mind. But not taking anything away from Monahan, who has thankfully not tried to do too much with the vocal bit and hence not taken the fizz away from the ensemble arrangements ( With all due respect and awe to the vocalists of progressive music, reaching the crescendo while the violins, the cellos and the piano hits the highest notes is something that does not always pay off). The record opens with the quintessential breezy rocksy number called "She's on Fire", replete with the singalong chorus, strong background vocal verses, a couple of groovy bass grooves and an otherwise uncomplicated melody, which Monahan takes from countryish to towering a little often ,before smoothening into a more classic sounding " I wish you would" with its "toda-todos". Drops of Jupiter comes in next and scores highly on good positioning as it distinguishes itself with its uniqueness from the first two tracks. The follow-up to this freshness is a very ordinary rendition of a straightforward melody called "It's about you". Next on the list "Hopeless" has this peaceful acoustic riff for a beginning, which resurfaces now and then in the track. The song called "Respect" took me aback with a drum roll akin to a song out of 'My generation' at the start, but that's where the similarity ended and so did my respect for the track, until the climactic verses where the pace of the song heightens rapidly without any warning or indication, much to your pleasure. "Let it roll"is a subdued ode to the vocalist's late mother,which has a longish instrumental patch uncharacteristic of their earlier tracks. Orchestral accompaniments rear their heads in "Something more", making you wonder and debate upon whether it should have been used in a more uninhibited manner or whether these fleeting glimpses of them which actually make them work. Near the tail end, 'whipping boy' has an expected structure with its forced soaring verses. At the tail end of the track list,"Getaway" has a melody line, which is pleasantly different. The last track would be my pick from the CD along with the title track being a close second. "Mississippi" has a strong bassline, which conventionally gets a lot of brownie points with me, an uncaged killer of an acoustic progression and sproadic saxophone trimmings, which leave a lasting impression and wins the reclusive presses on the "repeat" button.
I must reiterate the sound of Train is compact and very definitive, but the song structures and the genre itself to a great extent leave room for nothing than predictability. Something that I am not so used having been accustomed to my fair share of Steven Wilsons, Robert Fripps and Trent Gardners. But in its own rights, most of the songs have a crunchy overtone which is accentuated by Manohan's country singer-ish voice, with which he does not over strive too much and hence does not go for an overkill. The CD might have just a few brilliant sections, but more importantly it does not touch the sub standard curve ever. Whether or not, it would be spinning in my deck would be another question altogether, but it does reek in a 3 point on the 5 point scale quite comfortably.
This record has served as a much needed respite to my otherwise progressive-music-obsessed ear drums. Train's sound is very definitive throughout the course of album, bringing back flashes of reminiscences of altie bands bordering classic rock such as Counting Crows . Yet Patrick Monahan's southern twangy vocals give that not-so-somber edge to the tracks . And what is the most surprising element to the record, the band and the genre as a whole is their extensive employment of orchestrative elements to certain tracks, including the title one, which has apparently gone platinum. Somehow I could so imagine Michael Stipe aceing this track with much ease in a vocal trip which seemed (to me) to have been composed with him and only him in the mind. But not taking anything away from Monahan, who has thankfully not tried to do too much with the vocal bit and hence not taken the fizz away from the ensemble arrangements ( With all due respect and awe to the vocalists of progressive music, reaching the crescendo while the violins, the cellos and the piano hits the highest notes is something that does not always pay off). The record opens with the quintessential breezy rocksy number called "She's on Fire", replete with the singalong chorus, strong background vocal verses, a couple of groovy bass grooves and an otherwise uncomplicated melody, which Monahan takes from countryish to towering a little often ,before smoothening into a more classic sounding " I wish you would" with its "toda-todos". Drops of Jupiter comes in next and scores highly on good positioning as it distinguishes itself with its uniqueness from the first two tracks. The follow-up to this freshness is a very ordinary rendition of a straightforward melody called "It's about you". Next on the list "Hopeless" has this peaceful acoustic riff for a beginning, which resurfaces now and then in the track. The song called "Respect" took me aback with a drum roll akin to a song out of 'My generation' at the start, but that's where the similarity ended and so did my respect for the track, until the climactic verses where the pace of the song heightens rapidly without any warning or indication, much to your pleasure. "Let it roll"is a subdued ode to the vocalist's late mother,which has a longish instrumental patch uncharacteristic of their earlier tracks. Orchestral accompaniments rear their heads in "Something more", making you wonder and debate upon whether it should have been used in a more uninhibited manner or whether these fleeting glimpses of them which actually make them work. Near the tail end, 'whipping boy' has an expected structure with its forced soaring verses. At the tail end of the track list,"Getaway" has a melody line, which is pleasantly different. The last track would be my pick from the CD along with the title track being a close second. "Mississippi" has a strong bassline, which conventionally gets a lot of brownie points with me, an uncaged killer of an acoustic progression and sproadic saxophone trimmings, which leave a lasting impression and wins the reclusive presses on the "repeat" button.
I must reiterate the sound of Train is compact and very definitive, but the song structures and the genre itself to a great extent leave room for nothing than predictability. Something that I am not so used having been accustomed to my fair share of Steven Wilsons, Robert Fripps and Trent Gardners. But in its own rights, most of the songs have a crunchy overtone which is accentuated by Manohan's country singer-ish voice, with which he does not over strive too much and hence does not go for an overkill. The CD might have just a few brilliant sections, but more importantly it does not touch the sub standard curve ever. Whether or not, it would be spinning in my deck would be another question altogether, but it does reek in a 3 point on the 5 point scale quite comfortably.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Urgent Need : A reality check
An article on one of the city's tabloids so read:
"Sexy actor Hugh Grant says he looks like a ‘butch lesbian’ with his hair cut short. The handsome star says he tried to change his trademark floppy hair style but it made him look “ugly”.
The Notting Hill star told Now magazine: “I tried to change. I had my hair cut off by Elizabeth Hurley’s hair person. Unfortunately I looked like a butch lesbian. I’m plug ugly with my hair cut off. Even Elizabeth couldn’t look at me."
What is Mr. Grant trying to imply here? That he prefers to look like a 20-years-too-late-to-be-in-a-boy-band dude, with his Botox-ed face, reading all of two expressions all the time and endorsing the word "sissy" ?! And hey, somebody please tell the man that his hair has as much to do with him being ugly, as much as my baggy clothes have to do with me looking fat. And going to an ex-girlfriend's hairdresser with a hope of getting a good hairdo, c'mon mate, what were you thinking?! Seriously?!
In hindsight, what was I doing with that tabloid anyway?!
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Saturday, September 24, 2005
An Over-dramatized Account of a Crush
Wretched protocols!
First, they create borders. Borders intentionally made as thin as a sheet of ice. As invisible to the naked eye as the elves on Earth. They challenge to walk along these borders. You fall over the edge. You learn it the hard away. You swear never to repeat it. Then it happens all over again.
Latest substianted evidence of this theory:
These architects of this cruel stage play called "Your Deplorable Life"....They take one of those dudes, straight out of the "Your kind of a guy" factory (Mass customized operations prevalent here, of course...At least, that's the one presumption that I hope does not get annihilated)..They predictably throw a plausible background to him...IT dude with an overdose of Bangalorean-ness (Y'know...carrying an overdose of contempt of crowded trains, places being miles apart et cetera)...Implementing yet another "We-cannot-do-without-it" application (which will gradually gather cobwebs in its internal algorithm and soon the only hints of its existence would pop up when potential shareholders or overtly inquisitive auditor digs deep down the "operating expenses" bit of the company's P&L)....And they strategically plant him a couple of cubicles away from you....You, as anticipated, would walk into the 'man-trap'...First with coy glances which climbs the forthrightness charts slowly, steadily and willfilly...Then, due to accusatory glances and sometimes angry retorts from (so-called) friends nearby, you try to pipe it down...Sometimes, even that the ugly reminder of you already being hooked pops up, only to be squashed like a bug...And so...soon, this small crush takes a larger than life form and these architects put on their impish smiles and bring one more cruel twist to the tale...They move the puppet (Otherwise known as the oomph guy) to a cubicle in some farthest corner, to where you cannot venture to, cuz you would have no excuse to contrive in order to go there! So, the sine curves that your high school teachers tried so much to get through to your head flashes before you with a bell pin on the biggest crest with an IDEO Locator saying "You are here"...And then, you pass many a days without the pleasures of a heavenly distraction..And then right when you think your life is moving along its straight line, which refuses to get out of the pits...They fling another boomerang right at you...This dude finds his way to your desk, makes conversation deliberately ( It's a saturday and no one else is around in the vicinity..so he couldn't have come for anyone else)....So the straight line called your life makes another straight-line trajectory to the peak and you are overwhelmed with this abrupt attack of that rare emotion named ecstacy...Oh no, just when the thought crosses my mind that "life is not that bad after all", I stumble upon that anticlimatic hurdle placed - He has come to tell me he's leaving...His implementation is done...
And so, I am left waiting for the next snare to come my way.
There are instances where the recall function in your memory could have been of some help, if you had ever planned on using it..You would then recognized the drill...The border is close by...You are gonna tip over...You could have shunned away, averting your eventual downfall...You could have either chosen to "Hell No!" and get back to base camp (Boyfriend is camped there!) or you could brave the onslaught and go out charging...But naay! You follow the protocol religiously..to perfection! One more time....
First, they create borders. Borders intentionally made as thin as a sheet of ice. As invisible to the naked eye as the elves on Earth. They challenge to walk along these borders. You fall over the edge. You learn it the hard away. You swear never to repeat it. Then it happens all over again.
Latest substianted evidence of this theory:
These architects of this cruel stage play called "Your Deplorable Life"....They take one of those dudes, straight out of the "Your kind of a guy" factory (Mass customized operations prevalent here, of course...At least, that's the one presumption that I hope does not get annihilated)..They predictably throw a plausible background to him...IT dude with an overdose of Bangalorean-ness (Y'know...carrying an overdose of contempt of crowded trains, places being miles apart et cetera)...Implementing yet another "We-cannot-do-without-it" application (which will gradually gather cobwebs in its internal algorithm and soon the only hints of its existence would pop up when potential shareholders or overtly inquisitive auditor digs deep down the "operating expenses" bit of the company's P&L)....And they strategically plant him a couple of cubicles away from you....You, as anticipated, would walk into the 'man-trap'...First with coy glances which climbs the forthrightness charts slowly, steadily and willfilly...Then, due to accusatory glances and sometimes angry retorts from (so-called) friends nearby, you try to pipe it down...Sometimes, even that the ugly reminder of you already being hooked pops up, only to be squashed like a bug...And so...soon, this small crush takes a larger than life form and these architects put on their impish smiles and bring one more cruel twist to the tale...They move the puppet (Otherwise known as the oomph guy) to a cubicle in some farthest corner, to where you cannot venture to, cuz you would have no excuse to contrive in order to go there! So, the sine curves that your high school teachers tried so much to get through to your head flashes before you with a bell pin on the biggest crest with an IDEO Locator saying "You are here"...And then, you pass many a days without the pleasures of a heavenly distraction..And then right when you think your life is moving along its straight line, which refuses to get out of the pits...They fling another boomerang right at you...This dude finds his way to your desk, makes conversation deliberately ( It's a saturday and no one else is around in the vicinity..so he couldn't have come for anyone else)....So the straight line called your life makes another straight-line trajectory to the peak and you are overwhelmed with this abrupt attack of that rare emotion named ecstacy...Oh no, just when the thought crosses my mind that "life is not that bad after all", I stumble upon that anticlimatic hurdle placed - He has come to tell me he's leaving...His implementation is done...
And so, I am left waiting for the next snare to come my way.
There are instances where the recall function in your memory could have been of some help, if you had ever planned on using it..You would then recognized the drill...The border is close by...You are gonna tip over...You could have shunned away, averting your eventual downfall...You could have either chosen to "Hell No!" and get back to base camp (Boyfriend is camped there!) or you could brave the onslaught and go out charging...But naay! You follow the protocol religiously..to perfection! One more time....
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Of Idiots, Idiot-boxes and Idiots-in-boxes
Eeeooow...What's with the flashing ticker on the home page of Blogger? Blogs updated at 8:57 AM ?! random blogs ?! Where/when did all that come from? Is it just me or have I fallen hook, line and sinker to those solitary blimps of respite that us nine-2-niners have in our otherwise mundane life called the "auto-login" option?! C'mon..you gotta admit...Gmail.com - whoosh! You are in, Orkut - Hell! You are already staring at your stuck-up scrap count before you can reach out and two-time 'alt' and 'tab', Naukri.com - *Blink* Your "32198321672 job openings which are of no use to you" stares back right at ya...Aaah, you gotta hand it to these Internet dudes for this force-majeure in our lives....Or else, it would have been your sheepish smiles that could have saved your ass from Mr. Bossman(If you are me, you would know that's NEVER an option!)...
Something worthwhile's on TV for a change...What with all the 'simple lives' of dumber-than-thou blondies (ALL puns intended...But of course) and the 'popcorn'y gossip items, I was beginning to wonder whether the term was the "idiot-box" or the "idiots-in-the-box"...And then, like he had done time and again before, Cosmo Kramer stormed in through the front door and onto our television sets...
Was reminded of one of those quotes of George ( a.k.a the short guy with glasses, looks like Humpty-Dumpty with a melon head - according to Jerry), which has done its turn of forwards and has had its more than fair share of exchanges/discussions...If you have seen it umpteen times before, I am sure you wouldn't choose to grimace when you see it one more time..so here you go...
"The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A death. What's that, a bonus?!?I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way. Then you go live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you're too young, go collect all your super, then, when you start work, you get a gold watch on your first day. You work forty years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You drink alcohol, you party, and you get ready for High School. You go to primary school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last 9 months floating with luxuries like central heating, spa, room service on tap, then you finish off as an orgasm! Amen."
Something worthwhile's on TV for a change...What with all the 'simple lives' of dumber-than-thou blondies (ALL puns intended...But of course) and the 'popcorn'y gossip items, I was beginning to wonder whether the term was the "idiot-box" or the "idiots-in-the-box"...And then, like he had done time and again before, Cosmo Kramer stormed in through the front door and onto our television sets...
Was reminded of one of those quotes of George ( a.k.a the short guy with glasses, looks like Humpty-Dumpty with a melon head - according to Jerry), which has done its turn of forwards and has had its more than fair share of exchanges/discussions...If you have seen it umpteen times before, I am sure you wouldn't choose to grimace when you see it one more time..so here you go...
"The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A death. What's that, a bonus?!?I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way. Then you go live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you're too young, go collect all your super, then, when you start work, you get a gold watch on your first day. You work forty years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You drink alcohol, you party, and you get ready for High School. You go to primary school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last 9 months floating with luxuries like central heating, spa, room service on tap, then you finish off as an orgasm! Amen."
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
A Midnight Rhetoric
Excruciating, Gut-wrenching loneliness...
It's hard to ignore when it strikes...especially when you least expect it to....especially when you are in conversation with the one you are closest to..
Is it the suppressed desire for occassional and unanticipated gratification? Is it the mutinous tactic deployed to combat the discontentment caused by unwelcome responses? Is it the instanteneous reaction to a fiery arguement that you are fast losing? Is it the unrestrainable annoyance to long enduring monologues?
Even worse....
Is it a sign of things to come? Or is it an inhibited but often experienced feeling which has just not been emoted?
Is it true that you feel closest to this person? or Is it time to scrutinize everything ?
......Or Is it just another bad day?
It's hard to ignore when it strikes...especially when you least expect it to....especially when you are in conversation with the one you are closest to..
Is it the suppressed desire for occassional and unanticipated gratification? Is it the mutinous tactic deployed to combat the discontentment caused by unwelcome responses? Is it the instanteneous reaction to a fiery arguement that you are fast losing? Is it the unrestrainable annoyance to long enduring monologues?
Even worse....
Is it a sign of things to come? Or is it an inhibited but often experienced feeling which has just not been emoted?
Is it true that you feel closest to this person? or Is it time to scrutinize everything ?
......Or Is it just another bad day?
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Far from maddening crowd....
Sunday being the archetypal "lone-wolf" day of the week for me, I had been planning out for an exploratory journey through the streets of South Bombay, for picking up forsaken books from the literature departments and libraries of colleges, which are amassed by street vendors and sold out at ridiculously nominal prices...But then, the rains continued to play spoilsport and I postponed Plan A for the third week in continuation...
But apparently, the early September showers refused to dampen the spirit of a truck(s)-full of Bombayites especially since they have been treating the "sitting-at-home-sipping-hot-coffee" us to live entertainment with the pulsating strikes on the drumskins, boisterous ganpati chants and unrestrained foot works..Meanwhile, my head was treating me to even more frenzy, thanks to the demise of Plan A, especially when the last few pages of my last hard cover book (What good are e-books anyway?!) were fast scrambling for closure..
So I decided to brave the latest attempt of Mr. Rain God and more importantly the unforgiving monsters of the traffic striken highways and ventured into the crammy jungle of book reward points, mauve leather coaches, "cracking the code" enthusiasts and the not-so-helpful can-I-help-yous..In other words, the big bad retail book store...(The last trip didn't turn to be too useful - Reference my earlier post)
A new book by Hornby was in the offing, leading me to half-believe my trip to the store was not that big a waste of time..But then this was before I beheld the dreaded barcoded strip which quoted an astronomical two digit number (Before you take the jugdement calls, you should know this was not in rupee count, but in euros!)...So I continued to wander around aimlessly before stumbling onto the books of a Portugese author called Jose Saramago...I would like to think that the tag of "from the nobel prize laureate" had nothing to do with the fact that I was lured into his books, but then again I got to admit, it was a sight for the sore eyes amidst the Sanders' and the Sheldons..The more powerful reason for eventually picking the book was my quirky interest in trying out authors from distant lands, whose works are hard to unearth in this part of the world, unless they cross the threshold of popularity and their books get translated...
A credit card swipe, a messy subway sandwich and a long walk later, I arrived at the one place the tourists always have on their itinery - the Juhu beach...While I fully knew this was probably the wrongest time to be there (In fact I am actually unsure whether there is a right time), I had been curious to see what the thronging followers of Bombay's favourite God do there...The party was on in full force and so I meandered around to a relatively empty part of the beach ...Now this is definitely not one of the prettiest beaches, but no matter what, the sea never fails to engulf me within its calming arms..Unlike most other beaches, the Juhu beach does not have mounds of sand, from where you can overlook the waves....From where you stand, you are at perfect sea level...Inspite of the reverberating rhythms emanating from the maddening crowd on one side and the relentless bellowing of the horns behind you, it's quite a remarkable feeling to gaze into the dieing tides...And just like that, you manage to block out all that cacophony around you and feel total harmony...Funny, Isn't that the ultimate purpose of life? Heaven knows Juhu is the last place you would expect to find it...
But apparently, the early September showers refused to dampen the spirit of a truck(s)-full of Bombayites especially since they have been treating the "sitting-at-home-sipping-hot-coffee" us to live entertainment with the pulsating strikes on the drumskins, boisterous ganpati chants and unrestrained foot works..Meanwhile, my head was treating me to even more frenzy, thanks to the demise of Plan A, especially when the last few pages of my last hard cover book (What good are e-books anyway?!) were fast scrambling for closure..
So I decided to brave the latest attempt of Mr. Rain God and more importantly the unforgiving monsters of the traffic striken highways and ventured into the crammy jungle of book reward points, mauve leather coaches, "cracking the code" enthusiasts and the not-so-helpful can-I-help-yous..In other words, the big bad retail book store...(The last trip didn't turn to be too useful - Reference my earlier post)
A new book by Hornby was in the offing, leading me to half-believe my trip to the store was not that big a waste of time..But then this was before I beheld the dreaded barcoded strip which quoted an astronomical two digit number (Before you take the jugdement calls, you should know this was not in rupee count, but in euros!)...So I continued to wander around aimlessly before stumbling onto the books of a Portugese author called Jose Saramago...I would like to think that the tag of "from the nobel prize laureate" had nothing to do with the fact that I was lured into his books, but then again I got to admit, it was a sight for the sore eyes amidst the Sanders' and the Sheldons..The more powerful reason for eventually picking the book was my quirky interest in trying out authors from distant lands, whose works are hard to unearth in this part of the world, unless they cross the threshold of popularity and their books get translated...
A credit card swipe, a messy subway sandwich and a long walk later, I arrived at the one place the tourists always have on their itinery - the Juhu beach...While I fully knew this was probably the wrongest time to be there (In fact I am actually unsure whether there is a right time), I had been curious to see what the thronging followers of Bombay's favourite God do there...The party was on in full force and so I meandered around to a relatively empty part of the beach ...Now this is definitely not one of the prettiest beaches, but no matter what, the sea never fails to engulf me within its calming arms..Unlike most other beaches, the Juhu beach does not have mounds of sand, from where you can overlook the waves....From where you stand, you are at perfect sea level...Inspite of the reverberating rhythms emanating from the maddening crowd on one side and the relentless bellowing of the horns behind you, it's quite a remarkable feeling to gaze into the dieing tides...And just like that, you manage to block out all that cacophony around you and feel total harmony...Funny, Isn't that the ultimate purpose of life? Heaven knows Juhu is the last place you would expect to find it...
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Bracketing my world....
The first trip to a new bookstore brings with it the need to spend the first few minutes in the store trying to cross the length and breadth of it to understand and digest the system of classification there. There is normally the universal classification of academic books from non-academic ones, which are further categorized to fiction, non-fiction, magazines, comics etc. After this, it gets difficult to draw everything into a tree structure ( Sorry, the evil Visio-enabled work side of me takes over..) So, there's children's literature, there's classics, there's literature (what the heck is the line of demarcation between the latter two? Or the methodology for classification is the sophisticated "eeny-meeny-miny-mo"??), there's science fiction, there's fantasy, there's theater, there's biography/auto-biography, there's music, there's arts, there's romance novels. And then it becomes a bigger maze...There's the system of classification based on the first name or it could be on the second name within each section. If it's on the second name basis, it's of course easier ( except if you are a fellow Southie with an intital and the presumption that the second name basis rule can be bent so that for such cases, it could be your first name...)But then this particular book store that I visited had the classification on the basis of the first name. So, where's the trouble now? I wanted to pick the great gatsby by F.Scott Fitzgerald! So is it a classic or a literature or is it fiction or is it under " recommends" ??And if I manage to solve that mystery, where do I look under? F or S?! Now don't even get me started on the non-fiction genre/sub genre classifications!! I would expected a Calvin and Hobbes to be cozily sitting on a rack in the comic book section, but somehow these torch bearers of this maze called a bookstore guided me to the management section for it!!
Also this entire compulsive need to bracket everything and put it under a header got me thinking...If I were to put the story of my life under a genre, what would it be? As much as I am a fan of thematic stories and concept albums, I think I would rather that my stories resembled that of a comic strip of jughead lieing on a hammock, with the highs being all those tasty munchies that are perched up and balanced on his belly and the lows being all those efforts to shoo away or swat those flies aiming from a crumb of those precious potato chips...No seriously, I don't want no damn Dan Brown thriller (?!) or a rib-tickling Hornby comedy for a life..There are absolutely no frikking way that it can be like racy adventure like " The Beach" or whatever...And it ain't like I have a confused upbringing in a foreign soil ala one of those Jhumpa Lahiri protaganists...There are some streaks of a sci-fi/fantasy novel whenever the boss' ugly head pops into the cubicle and I substitute that sorta plain ugliness with a sorta ugliness which gets some cookie points on the coolness quotient (So out goes the creature formerly called The Boss, and in comes a Jabba the Hut-tish creature - only thing he has bigger warts on his face and he also comes with what looks like heavy labyrinth of horns, but it's actually his hair and oh yeah, he also has very VERY floppy ears :D)...Of late, there has been a continuous occurences of tragedies, what with my daily trips to the ATM and the subsequent discoveries of ever dwindling cash in the account...And of course, there are escapades to Romance-shire on rare occasions, limited to Gael Garcia Bernal movies....But then notwithstanding all those uncharacteristic lapses, I would like to continue my typical "bum-on-chair" routine, thankyew...So,maybe that can be the name of a new genre be the "unclassifieds"...Hell, so much for the modern day contraptions! I think I would rather order my books online from now on..
Also this entire compulsive need to bracket everything and put it under a header got me thinking...If I were to put the story of my life under a genre, what would it be? As much as I am a fan of thematic stories and concept albums, I think I would rather that my stories resembled that of a comic strip of jughead lieing on a hammock, with the highs being all those tasty munchies that are perched up and balanced on his belly and the lows being all those efforts to shoo away or swat those flies aiming from a crumb of those precious potato chips...No seriously, I don't want no damn Dan Brown thriller (?!) or a rib-tickling Hornby comedy for a life..There are absolutely no frikking way that it can be like racy adventure like " The Beach" or whatever...And it ain't like I have a confused upbringing in a foreign soil ala one of those Jhumpa Lahiri protaganists...There are some streaks of a sci-fi/fantasy novel whenever the boss' ugly head pops into the cubicle and I substitute that sorta plain ugliness with a sorta ugliness which gets some cookie points on the coolness quotient (So out goes the creature formerly called The Boss, and in comes a Jabba the Hut-tish creature - only thing he has bigger warts on his face and he also comes with what looks like heavy labyrinth of horns, but it's actually his hair and oh yeah, he also has very VERY floppy ears :D)...Of late, there has been a continuous occurences of tragedies, what with my daily trips to the ATM and the subsequent discoveries of ever dwindling cash in the account...And of course, there are escapades to Romance-shire on rare occasions, limited to Gael Garcia Bernal movies....But then notwithstanding all those uncharacteristic lapses, I would like to continue my typical "bum-on-chair" routine, thankyew...So,maybe that can be the name of a new genre be the "unclassifieds"...Hell, so much for the modern day contraptions! I think I would rather order my books online from now on..
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Invisible Monster
" Brandy Alexander, the long stemmed latte queen supreme of the top drawer party girls, Brandy is gushing her insides out through a bullet hole in her amazing suit jacket.You wouldn't believe how much this suit cost.The markup is about zillion percent.The suit jacket has a little peplum skirt and wide lapels and shoulders. The single breasted cut is symmetrical except for the hole pumping out blood.
Then Evie starts to sob, standing there halfway up the staircase. Evie, that deadly virus of the moment. This is one cue to look at poor Evie, poor, sad Evie, hairless and wearing nothing but ashes and circled by the wire cage of her burned-up hooked skirt. Then Evie drops the rifle. With her dirty face in her dirty hands, Evie sits down and starts to boo-hoo, as if crying will solve anything. This rifle, this is a loaded thirty-aught rifle, it clatters down the stairs and skids out into the middle of the foyer floor, spinning on its side, pointing at me, pointing at Brandy, pointing at Evie, crying.
It's not that I'm some detached lab animal just conditioned to ignore violence, but my first instinct is maybe it's not too late to dab club soda on the bloodstain.
Most of my adult life so far has been me standing on seamless paper for a raft of bucks per hour, wearing clothes and shoes, my hair done and some fashion photographer telling me how to feel.
Him yelling, give me lust, baby.
Flash.
Give me malice.
Flash.
Give me detached existentialist ennui.
Flash.
Give me rampant intellectualism as a coping mechanism.
Flash.
Probably it's the shock of seeing my own worst enemy shoot my other worst enemy is what it is. Boom, it's a win-win situation. This and being around Brandy, I've developed pretty big jones for drama."
Guess what Mr. Palahniuk...we have developed pretty big jones for drama too...and for the morbid and the macabre...for the exceptional originality and the equally terrifying inventions...for the no-holds-barred imagination and the intellectually ferocious fiction...for the eerily precise factual overtures...Not to mention the killing effect of his famed one-liners...Esoteric maybe, but No siree, it doesn't get better than this..
Note - the quoted passage is an excerpt from Chuck Palahniuk's Invisible Monsters - my favorite fictional piece of all time. For more snippets/reviews/fanlore on this work and more, watch this space...
Then Evie starts to sob, standing there halfway up the staircase. Evie, that deadly virus of the moment. This is one cue to look at poor Evie, poor, sad Evie, hairless and wearing nothing but ashes and circled by the wire cage of her burned-up hooked skirt. Then Evie drops the rifle. With her dirty face in her dirty hands, Evie sits down and starts to boo-hoo, as if crying will solve anything. This rifle, this is a loaded thirty-aught rifle, it clatters down the stairs and skids out into the middle of the foyer floor, spinning on its side, pointing at me, pointing at Brandy, pointing at Evie, crying.
It's not that I'm some detached lab animal just conditioned to ignore violence, but my first instinct is maybe it's not too late to dab club soda on the bloodstain.
Most of my adult life so far has been me standing on seamless paper for a raft of bucks per hour, wearing clothes and shoes, my hair done and some fashion photographer telling me how to feel.
Him yelling, give me lust, baby.
Flash.
Give me malice.
Flash.
Give me detached existentialist ennui.
Flash.
Give me rampant intellectualism as a coping mechanism.
Flash.
Probably it's the shock of seeing my own worst enemy shoot my other worst enemy is what it is. Boom, it's a win-win situation. This and being around Brandy, I've developed pretty big jones for drama."
Guess what Mr. Palahniuk...we have developed pretty big jones for drama too...and for the morbid and the macabre...for the exceptional originality and the equally terrifying inventions...for the no-holds-barred imagination and the intellectually ferocious fiction...for the eerily precise factual overtures...Not to mention the killing effect of his famed one-liners...Esoteric maybe, but No siree, it doesn't get better than this..
Note - the quoted passage is an excerpt from Chuck Palahniuk's Invisible Monsters - my favorite fictional piece of all time. For more snippets/reviews/fanlore on this work and more, watch this space...
Friday, September 02, 2005
Version 1.1
A new lease of life...Incessant boredom...method to handle post lunch drudgery...Rebellion for liberation from mundane work...Message of nonchalance to the big bossman...Ploy to invite envy from neighbours...Urge to ramble/muse/criticize/rant/rave/scream/snicker/sob more vehemently and frequently...
Am not sure what caused this redefintion the blog and the plegde to make blogging a daily routine...Whatever it is, I do hope I don't give it up..What with my efforts through an entire afternoon to customize the page...Damn! wish I could delegate that too :D
Am not sure what caused this redefintion the blog and the plegde to make blogging a daily routine...Whatever it is, I do hope I don't give it up..What with my efforts through an entire afternoon to customize the page...Damn! wish I could delegate that too :D
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
A sudden spate of altruism...
Warning - The footnotes are as long as the original passage - Whoever thought the points put forth are self explanatory have another thing coming....
So, Why don't all these "a-business-opportunity-is-just-around-the-corner" folks* come with a guidebook for survival in the big bad corporate world/big bad..well..big city? Replete with all the should do's, the shouldn't do's**, the don't dos** , and of course with the 10 mantras*** to keep you on payroll..and not to mention the rules that when broken are glaringly visible even if you are however good at smiling sheepishly....I mean, with all due respect to the concept of "learning it the hard, a cruel fact to admit and abide by is - "Bosses do not believe in such ideals"....So, I am doing my bit to that abysmmally tiny lot of society who would come across this blog (Most of 'em are probably doing so after relentless coaxing on my part - :D)....Don't know why this wave of altruism has hit me all of a sudden...
Cold, hard truths, which when ignored/overlooked can result in ghastly experiences:
1. Timelines are what they are - Date/time fields which are absolute in nature. Barring Katrinas, Tsunami's, rain gods and lazy central-goverment folks, timelines do NOT have the property of expansion/elasticity. (Quick reference - the Income Tax Department, Credit Card Units of all banks)
2. Mandatory requirements always follow the AND logic. The OR logic is not a substitute. (Quick reference - Personal Loan Departments, recruiting agencies)
3. When it comes to fares, there's always multiple or an additive element attached ( Quick reference - Cab/Auto drivers)
4. Not all numbers are a result of balanced equations i.e Net take home basic pay+ HRA+..... ( Quick reference - The Cafeteria Subsidies/Miscellaneaous expenses column in your payslip, the auto-debit mandate of banks where EMI deduction always, ALWAYS happens the minute your salary hits the bank account)
5. Everyone who has the tag of Middle Management/Boss (a.k.a The not-so-affable, but definitely infamous Gyaanibabas) have dangerously low boiling points ( Quick reference - the junior management of any company)
6. Liquids do not have definite shape, but assume the shape of the containing body (Quick reference - Frequent floodings at my apartment thanks to taps who don't get closed)
7. Chocolates,ice creams,sizzling brownies, cheesy pastas, cheesier burgers, the results of the-experiments-at-my-kitchen et al do contain fats, carbohydates and the likes ( Quick reference - has anyone seen me lately?!)
8. Time does require management and gantt charts and what not...( Quick reference - the never-ending list of my "to-do" list)
9. Drinking a glass of alcohol everyday as against dunking the entire week's quota on the weekend is better, if you also fit the A-A bill****...Of course if you choose do both, it could be near fatal ( Quick reference - the all-knowing smile of the doorman when you walk into your favorite pub)
10. The chances of your boss visiting your cubicle between the time you started this blog and when you ended is directly proportional to the number of key deliverables in your job description ( Quick reference - the number of alt-tabs that I have done while writing this blog )
So, kids...hope this serves as an enlightment tool...And no,this will not lead you to Nirvana...After all, they have disbanded :P
* - Y'know, those overzealous dudes who fall into one or more or most likely all of these categories - A. The socializing radar is as dead as the bug they last swatted B. who spell life as w-o-r-k C. whose last woohooing was when they got two extra oregono toppings with the pizza they ordered when working late D. whose ID tag has these letters - I, C , I , C and I on them...
** Think about it..the shouldn't and don't dos are definitely different...If you are still digging thru all the overwrought gray matter or your answer is "Nyaaah"- even if doesn't sound exactly like it, then please, I beg you, get a life!
*** Note - It's not always only 10
**** Not the type of batteries silly, Alcoholics anonymous of course..
So, Why don't all these "a-business-opportunity-is-just-around-the-corner" folks* come with a guidebook for survival in the big bad corporate world/big bad..well..big city? Replete with all the should do's, the shouldn't do's**, the don't dos** , and of course with the 10 mantras*** to keep you on payroll..and not to mention the rules that when broken are glaringly visible even if you are however good at smiling sheepishly....I mean, with all due respect to the concept of "learning it the hard, a cruel fact to admit and abide by is - "Bosses do not believe in such ideals"....So, I am doing my bit to that abysmmally tiny lot of society who would come across this blog (Most of 'em are probably doing so after relentless coaxing on my part - :D)....Don't know why this wave of altruism has hit me all of a sudden...
Cold, hard truths, which when ignored/overlooked can result in ghastly experiences:
1. Timelines are what they are - Date/time fields which are absolute in nature. Barring Katrinas, Tsunami's, rain gods and lazy central-goverment folks, timelines do NOT have the property of expansion/elasticity. (Quick reference - the Income Tax Department, Credit Card Units of all banks)
2. Mandatory requirements always follow the AND logic. The OR logic is not a substitute. (Quick reference - Personal Loan Departments, recruiting agencies)
3. When it comes to fares, there's always multiple or an additive element attached ( Quick reference - Cab/Auto drivers)
4. Not all numbers are a result of balanced equations i.e Net take home
5. Everyone who has the tag of Middle Management/Boss (a.k.a The not-so-affable, but definitely infamous Gyaanibabas) have dangerously low boiling points ( Quick reference - the junior management of any company)
6. Liquids do not have definite shape, but assume the shape of the containing body (Quick reference - Frequent floodings at my apartment thanks to taps who don't get closed)
7. Chocolates,ice creams,sizzling brownies, cheesy pastas, cheesier burgers, the results of the-experiments-at-my-kitchen et al do contain fats, carbohydates and the likes ( Quick reference - has anyone seen me lately?!)
8. Time does require management and gantt charts and what not...( Quick reference - the never-ending list of my "to-do" list)
9. Drinking a glass of alcohol everyday as against dunking the entire week's quota on the weekend is better, if you also fit the A-A bill****...Of course if you choose do both, it could be near fatal ( Quick reference - the all-knowing smile of the doorman when you walk into your favorite pub)
10. The chances of your boss visiting your cubicle between the time you started this blog and when you ended is directly proportional to the number of key deliverables in your job description ( Quick reference - the number of alt-tabs that I have done while writing this blog )
So, kids...hope this serves as an enlightment tool...And no,this will not lead you to Nirvana...After all, they have disbanded :P
* - Y'know, those overzealous dudes who fall into one or more or most likely all of these categories - A. The socializing radar is as dead as the bug they last swatted B. who spell life as w-o-r-k C. whose last woohooing was when they got two extra oregono toppings with the pizza they ordered when working late D. whose ID tag has these letters - I, C , I , C and I on them...
** Think about it..the shouldn't and don't dos are definitely different...If you are still digging thru all the overwrought gray matter or your answer is "Nyaaah"- even if doesn't sound exactly like it, then please, I beg you, get a life!
*** Note - It's not always only 10
**** Not the type of batteries silly, Alcoholics anonymous of course..
Friday, July 29, 2005
The Story of Human Grit - Lesson 101
A few of "You Lucky Dog!"...Some "Oh! Good for you!"...A couple of "Make use of this opportunity..Go back to your home town and chill out"...ONE "Ok! Work on this and this and well..this too" ...And a lot of "Maan...you had to be there to believe it"...
My eventual homecoming was greeted by these and more of (not-so-)mixed feelings...I could have settled for "Oh! we missed you loads.." or maybe even "We skipped the weekend 'session' cuz you weren't here"...but well,I wasn't exactly returning back to page 72 of 'Krithika in Wonderland'...as bipolar as it can get from it, actually...I was back at Bombay..Bombay waking up to the aftermath of 28 hours when nature ravished its fury with one of the most fatal low blows...A bombay under siege by Rain gods, in the stranglehold of its poorly architected drainage system, at the mercy of its unsturdy roads, held hostage by the lack of a good disaster control system...A bombay afloat with debris of every kind and buoyant vehicles...A bombay, which lived to tell a oft-repeated tale of how the tenacity, resilience, grit and generousity of its people stood resolute and unfazed even in the most turbulent of times..
So what's the loudest news that is being heard?.... The fact that the waters ebbed to ten feet and more in certain areas? Or maybe the fact that they gushed in to most ground floor apartments washing away everything in sight? Or what about the fact that there had been no prewarning meted out by the authorities? Or..maybe the more universal of facts..the city having recorded the highest levels of rainfall in a single day ? Err....take another guess...Trust me you wouldn't even be able to get anywhere near the ballpark...
The only thing strikingly visible is the fact that irrespective of all of the above happening, there were people volunteering to get out of their dry grounds (if they have managed to find them, i.e.), in order to distribute biscuits, tea and food to all those unlucky ones who are still wading through water to get to their dear ones...What about this? You might just have a 10 * 10 that you call home, but that doesn't stop you from offering it as a refuge to those helpless who have no way to get home..and yes, you might have a handsome 7 figure amount smiling down on your salary account on the last friday of every month, but that does not stop you from accepting a corner of that 10 * 10 and a public toilet... And of course, if there are 150 people stranded on the top half of a double decker bus with the bottom half of the bus falling prey to seeping water, there are an equal number of people standing sure-footedly in the neck deep water with a rope so that they can pull the ones on the bus to safer grounds......
Its high density of population might be one of the reasons why the morbid images of overcrowded trains, jam packed roads and brimmed up buses surface in the minds of most people, but hell...without them, the city could not have picked up the salvages of their battered lives and reported in at 9 a.m sharp for work on Day 2! Kudos!
P.S - Definitely not an afterthought...wanted to postscript this bit...16 people died suffocated in their cars waiting for 30+ hours to get home, more than 50 people fell victims to landslides...20 odd were stampeded to death due to a false tsunami scare....I did not know 'em, but...R.I.P ...
This blog goes to the one person that I did know who did not turn up at work, like the others did today...He reached home after plodding through the waters for hours...He hit the bed and never woke up, passing away due to a cardiac arrest...Malay, May your soul rest in peace...
My eventual homecoming was greeted by these and more of (not-so-)mixed feelings...I could have settled for "Oh! we missed you loads.." or maybe even "We skipped the weekend 'session' cuz you weren't here"...but well,I wasn't exactly returning back to page 72 of 'Krithika in Wonderland'...as bipolar as it can get from it, actually...I was back at Bombay..Bombay waking up to the aftermath of 28 hours when nature ravished its fury with one of the most fatal low blows...A bombay under siege by Rain gods, in the stranglehold of its poorly architected drainage system, at the mercy of its unsturdy roads, held hostage by the lack of a good disaster control system...A bombay afloat with debris of every kind and buoyant vehicles...A bombay, which lived to tell a oft-repeated tale of how the tenacity, resilience, grit and generousity of its people stood resolute and unfazed even in the most turbulent of times..
So what's the loudest news that is being heard?.... The fact that the waters ebbed to ten feet and more in certain areas? Or maybe the fact that they gushed in to most ground floor apartments washing away everything in sight? Or what about the fact that there had been no prewarning meted out by the authorities? Or..maybe the more universal of facts..the city having recorded the highest levels of rainfall in a single day ? Err....take another guess...Trust me you wouldn't even be able to get anywhere near the ballpark...
The only thing strikingly visible is the fact that irrespective of all of the above happening, there were people volunteering to get out of their dry grounds (if they have managed to find them, i.e.), in order to distribute biscuits, tea and food to all those unlucky ones who are still wading through water to get to their dear ones...What about this? You might just have a 10 * 10 that you call home, but that doesn't stop you from offering it as a refuge to those helpless who have no way to get home..and yes, you might have a handsome 7 figure amount smiling down on your salary account on the last friday of every month, but that does not stop you from accepting a corner of that 10 * 10 and a public toilet... And of course, if there are 150 people stranded on the top half of a double decker bus with the bottom half of the bus falling prey to seeping water, there are an equal number of people standing sure-footedly in the neck deep water with a rope so that they can pull the ones on the bus to safer grounds......
Its high density of population might be one of the reasons why the morbid images of overcrowded trains, jam packed roads and brimmed up buses surface in the minds of most people, but hell...without them, the city could not have picked up the salvages of their battered lives and reported in at 9 a.m sharp for work on Day 2! Kudos!
P.S - Definitely not an afterthought...wanted to postscript this bit...16 people died suffocated in their cars waiting for 30+ hours to get home, more than 50 people fell victims to landslides...20 odd were stampeded to death due to a false tsunami scare....I did not know 'em, but...R.I.P ...
This blog goes to the one person that I did know who did not turn up at work, like the others did today...He reached home after plodding through the waters for hours...He hit the bed and never woke up, passing away due to a cardiac arrest...Malay, May your soul rest in peace...
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