Tati's Den

What Next?

2010-04-16T01:24:00.000-07:00

The story, in my case, started the moment I took shape in my mother’s womb. Although I had sufficient access to food, the space was constricting. All attempts to escape the environment – throwing about my limbs – ended in despair. Not just that, the inhabitants of the free-world rebuked my attempts by terming them “cute”, “sweet”, “tender” etc. I felt helpless. It was then that I framed a sub-conscious objective - to wiggle out of the womb, to find that place where space would never be a constraint. Objective achieved; time taken - 9 months.

It was then payback time for all those people responsible for making me feel helpless in my previous abode. I forced them to feed me, to clothe me, to clean my debris, to make squeaking buffoon-like sounds for my entertainment and to participate in numerous activities that they normally wouldn’t. I had an awesome time. Payback meted out; time taken – 2 years and 3 months.

At the fag-end of the payback period, people started to see through my deliberate ploy. I was no longer cuddled whenever I forced tears out of myself. I could no longer get people to do crazy things for my 1000-watt smile. I was thrashed around if I “debried” all over the place. Worst of all, I was thrown into a school – gotten rid of by the same people who couldn’t let go of me for even a minute (When I was awake, i.e.). I had to adapt to the new environment and find a new method to get things done for myself. The existence of a sibling meant that I needed no rocket-science to figure out what I had to do – score marks (cross the 90% barrier). The objective was achieved on and off. My scores ranged from 50% to 99%. Things were amazing when I crossed the barrier, and brutal when I didn’t. The journey consumed 10 years of my life.

When I entered my 10th grade, I caught a new buzzword doing the rounds – IIT JEE – and held on to it. By using the buzzword, I had risen above the task of scoring marks in the examinations (the people around me no longer cared). I could use the phrase “I’m preparing for the IITs,” to get things done for me. I then dreamt of what I could get done for myself if I could use the phrase “I’m an IITan” - objective framed; achieved in 3 years; preferential treatment lasted another 4 years.

During my first job at L&T, a harsh reality struck me. I could no longer command the preferential treatment from my colleagues and bosses. It was déjà vu – the same sub-conscious/conscious feeling was haunting me yet again. A week of observation yielded a mission – be a part of the management! Objective – get into a top B-school; achieved in 2 years; preferential treatment lasted another 2 years.

The last one year (after the previous phase) has been a year of extreme introspection. I’ve come to realize that being a part of the management wasn’t as rosy as it seemed to me. In fact, there has always been a stark contrast between what I expected and what I experienced once an objective was achieved. I expected the world to be freer once I got out of my mother’s womb. I expected people to give me undue attention forever, when I was a baby. I expected things would get easier if I crossed the revered 90% barrier, only to realize that a 50% score was surreally looming around. I expected a king-size life once I cleared the IIT-JEE. Finally, I expected to be someone everybody would look-up-to, once I became a part of the management. I was always disappointed. This disappointment made the question – “What next?” – run amok in my mind. One disappointment led to another disappointment and that to another. Damn the vicious cycle.

Today, I take an oath that I should’ve taken the moment I was born – “I shall strive to find happiness in the present.” It’s time to undo the 25-year-damage I’ve done to myself. Wish me!

Mother (Originally written in Telugu)

2010-03-20T00:53:00.000-07:00

Your determination that the hands that touched another woman
Should never touch you, made you a loner.
So what? Your thought that a caring mother with a heart
Was worth million times a cold father with brute, has got you going.
And from then on, you never looked back!

Nobody knew whether you ate or not.
The only ornaments that you adorned were
Pride, self-respect, courage and honesty.
This is the tale of your youth

Afterwards, you worked hard to support
Your children’s studies and secure their future.
You bowed down to the circumstances
And swallowed your dislikes.
You derived your happiness from your children’s.

Your hands that worked tirelessly for your children
Also fed the first bites of your grandchildren.
Every drop of your blood toiled for
Your children, the children of your children,
Your well-wishers and all the needy ones you passed by.

So what did you get to keep in the end?
Because Selfishness, to you, was an unknown entity,
Your only worldly possession was survival.
O mother, how many births should I have to take to repay you?
The peace that I found in your shadow!
The protection that I sought under your wings!

When you had been through eighty three springs,
I used to count every second of my time
To experience the feeling of catching a glimpse
Of your glorious aura and your ever-loving face,
After returning home from a hard-day’s work.
This experience, to me, was heaven on earth.

I have made every effort from my end to protect you,
Until God called out for you,
With love so pure and care so personal
That in this entire world, only you and I know the truth

When the time came for me to hand you over to God,
The angelic glow that irradiated from your face and said goodbye,
Lit up a million candles in my heart, forever.
Rendered helpless, I had to give you up for a greater cause.
In every birth I take, I wish to be born as your daughter.
This, my mother, is my rhapsody to God.

- T.Suryakala (My mother)

How MCPs are Vctims and not Victimizers

2008-09-08T13:59:00.000-07:00

Economics reverberates that efficiency lies in specialization - one should do what one's best at. It's amazing how the same funda applies to household chores. Just as an illustration - Consider a task - to cook omelets. "A" cooks great omelets and B doesn't...so economic theory says that A should take up the task for the economy to be efficient.

Long ago, work was physical in nature. The man, who had more brute force than the woman, specialized in running after animals, tilling the land, breaking stones etc. The woman, less strong, stuck to the softer chores. This had become a way of life. It is to be noted that economics doesn't consider the household chores as economic activity. Economic activity, at this point of time comprised of men’s brute force activities.

Then came the invention of the agricultural tools – work became physically easy for the man. As time progressed, more machines were invented. Work became less physical, and man’s core competency – the physical ability - started to diminish in importance. Men were thrown out of their comfort zone. This was a point where the lifestyle started changing. In other words, the men (and women) had a “Lifestyle Shock”. The shock-recovery process saw men fiddling with the softer chores and women trying their hands at the knowledge work – the economic activity. As time progressed, men and women shared both types of activities delineated by economic theory – the household activities and the economic activities. The basic theory still remained the same – people were still doing what they were best at.

Now, let us define the Male Household-Activity Involvement ratio as MHAI = Household Activity by men/Total Household Activity(Household Activity is measured in seconds). From “Long Ago” to now, this ratio has been on the upward trend, starting at near-zero. 0.5 is what the MHAI is tending to, over time. The MHAI, however, is significantly less than the ideal value of 0.5 at present (random observation of a perfectly sane mind). What does this mean?

Essentially, at present, there are still people (men and women) coming to terms with the Lifestyle Shock. Not long ago, men saw their fathers doing maximal economic activity and minimal household activity; women saw their mothers doing minimal economic activity and maximal household activity. While some of these men (and women) have adapted well to the changing times, some are still in the "Shock" phase. These people who couldn't adjust are suffering from an illness (Common symptoms of the illness include the use of brute force against the fairer sex by men, and the lack of interest in education for the women). They are the victims of changing times - they are sick. Unfortunately, it's really heartening that the male victims, who are obviously sick, are further victimized by the usage of a very hard-hitting phrase - Male Chauvinist Pig (MCP). This terminology doesn't make their adaptation easy - it complicates the matters.

Now, what exactly can a fellow human being do to make the transition of these victims easy? Firstly, one should refrain from using the phrase Male Chauvinist Pig (MCP). What if one calls the women undergoing the lifestyle shock - Female Petrified Owls (FPOs)? Hurts doesn’t it? Secondly, take time out and explain how the economic theory functions. Tell them that they have a Hobson's choice - Adapt or Perish! Thirdly, if the MHAI of your house is greater than or equal to 0.5, REJOICE, for there are no victims in your house! Lastly, pat me on my back whenever you manage to meet me. ;)

The Composer in Me

2008-08-08T06:46:00.000-07:00

Let me start off with a very commonplace statement - "Every person's mind wanders." Stating so is not very ingenious of me, I accept. The point is that whenever a person is faced with idle time, his thoughts lead him towards a certain activity. Some of the activities that had occupied me in my lulls comprise of: watching a movie, sleeping, reading a book, admiring the beauty of the fairer sex in general, and the worst - plotting the murder of Arjun Singh (a fallout of watching Rang De Basanti). But, none of these activities were as pleasurable as the process of creating a totally new tune - composing music.

Some people call it a gift of a lifetime, some call it a waste of time and others don't care. To me, composing music is a way of life. It's an opportunity for me to declare myself unique, an attribute that makes me proud of myself.

Enough words, I'll let my music do the talking: (Left Click)
Beside You
Mama
The Sujata Song
The Pagalguy Song

P.S: For the lyrics, feel free to checkout my previous posts.

Crazy Girl

2008-07-16T01:07:00.000-07:00

A post from me has long been overdue. All I can do is happily blame my creative instincts for ditching me for such long a time. But now, ladies and gentlemen, I'm back!

Presenting to you...the song "Crazy Girl", which is inspired from the story of the bollywood movie "Jab We Met".
The credits:
Lyrics and Vocals: Sarang Tatimatla
Guitars: Martin Gangte
Dedication: To Khushbu Thakkar (A girl in my network that resembles the character played by Kareena to the hilt!)

Getting up, the morning time,
It's you that I'd seen.
Never Knew or Never thought
What lay ahead of me.
The steady life, the solitude,
Was the best part of me.
From the moment that you stepped on me,
My life became a hell...

[CHORUS]
Crazy Girl in train,
Can you hear me.
Crazy Girl, my pain,
Can you feel what I feel?

I left all my past behind
When I got off the train.
I needed time for myself
To straighten my life.
It's only when you followed me
That things went haywire
The lonely roads and the lonely nights
Had changed my life forever...

[CHORUS]

Never did I know...
Never did I think...
That I'd fall in love...
With you...

The painful life that was...
You had turned it around...
The wonderful life that is...
Is a hell without you...

[CHORUS]

Beside You

2008-02-03T02:57:00.000-08:00

[Music and Lyrics by the band 'Three Times a Day', IITR]

Walking in the rain,
there was no one by my side.
I felt the need of one
who'd make the drenching fun

Some memories that stay,
and some that fade away.
I'll be there for you,
No matter what comes on.

I'll stand beside you,
I'll live beside you,
wherever you are,
I'll die beside you.

I've been riding this storm,
Since the time you'd left me
There's no one to share
all the dreams every night.

Illusions of you
that I see everywhere.
No one but you
can fill this gap

I'll stand beside you,
I'll live beside you,
wherever you are,
I'll die beside you.

This loneliness that I feel is a tragic disarray...
My mind is never stable, and is needing you today...
I open it to call you from the abyss of my heart...
I have a sentimental yearning that I need you here...

I'll stand beside you,
I'll live beside you,
wherever you are,
I'll die beside you.

The Sujata song

2008-02-01T11:42:00.001-08:00

Lyrics: Samik, Sunny and Sarang
Music: Sunny, Sarang and Martin
Guitars: Martin

Tujhe dekh dekh kar...koi yaad na aata...O sujata...[X2]

Woh pal kaun sa tha...jo mahesh le gaya...kuch tum ko de gaya...kuch hum se le gaya...
Ab stats nahin...ab maths nahin...ab QMDM nahi aata...O sujata

Jabb phone aata hai...mera dil chubta hai...line uska judta hai...aur mera kat'ta hai...
Ab daaru nahin...ab sutta nahin...aur chicken bhi nahi bhaata...O sujata

Ab kya karoon, kaise kahoon, yeh samajh mujhe nahi aata
Tera jo woh, boyfriend ka darr, har waqt mujhe sataata…O sujata

To Gran, with Love

2007-11-03T23:42:00.000-07:00

Dearest Grandma

You taught us love and how to fight,
You gave us strength, you gave us might.
A stronger person would be hard to find,
And in your heart, you were always kind.
You fought for us all in one way or another
Not just as a wife, not just as a mother.
For all of us you gave your best,
Now the time has come for you to rest.
So go in peace, you’ve earned your sleep,
Your love in our hearts, we’ll eternally keep.

Sindhu and Sarang

Alone...

2007-11-01T06:39:00.000-07:00

Dedicated to two friends of mine who have recently suffered a break up. This is the guy's perspective.

Lyrics and Vocals: Sarang Tatimatla
Guitars: Martin Gangte

Do you know, this place is lighted up
Do you know, I don’t feel it any more
I can’t see, as far as I could see
I can’t think, beyond you anymore

I’m alone, I’m lost
I don’t feel like going on
I’m a fool, I understand
I should’ve never left you there……….X2

Your face, is all my eyes can see
Your glow, is all that makes live
The times we had, keep coming to my mind
I wish these times, can stay on for ever...

I’m alone, I’m lost
I don’t feel like going on
I’m a fool, I understand
I should’ve never left you there……….X2

I don’t know what it takes to have you back
I don’t see why you can’t feel what I feel
I wish you knew that I loved you more than me
I hope that you realize and get back to me...

I’m alone, I’m lost
I don’t feel like going on
I’m a fool, I understand
I should’ve never left you there……….X2

Chak De India – an attempt to review

2007-08-14T12:25:00.000-07:00

I never admired any of Shahrukh's previous movies...barring DDLJ…but I guess this movie is an exception.

Truckload of senti, love, tears and happines (in the end ) is what you expect from a Shahrukh flick. Chak De India is no exception. Senti…loads of it. Love…for the country and the game - hockey! Tears…abundant! Happiness…of course! But...one thing that makes it all a wonderful product is the technical brilliance that connects all the above said sh*t.

Quite a few sport-based movies have been made in the small history that Bollywood boasts of. One movie that stood out, according to me, was Lagaan. But, Lagaan lacked the depth in terms of the technicalities that go into playing the game of cricket...u can never imagine such lackluster bunch of players fighting for India. This is where Chak De scores. It captures the technicalities that go into playing the game of hockey to such an extent that you actually believe that it is indeed a national women’s team that you are watching on the big screen. This brilliance actually makes the whole Shahrukh sh*t believable! Kudos to the actresses and the director for doing a wonderful job in this department!

And…one thing that made me like the movie even more is this girl called Sagarika Ghatge (Centre Forward, screen-name: Preeti Sabarwal)…couldn’t take my eyes off her…seriously!

Will give it a 3.5/5 ... it's a must watch for the girls! __________________

Life @ IIFT Delhi

2007-07-19T06:10:00.000-07:00

Life @ IIFT Delhi starts off at 5:30 in the morning, when your roommate wakes you up for the impending Yoga session at 6:00 AM. The regular procrastinator that you are, you sit up on your sleepy a*&, momentarily, just to make your concerned roommate happy. Once the roommate fizzes out into the bathroom to do the regular chores, you fall back, only to be punched hard after 15 minutes. Suddenly realization dawns…damn…yoga is compulsory, and yes…u need to maintain the 75% attendance critireon.

One hour of the sacred suryanamaskaras and the pranayamas make sure that whatever little remnants of sleep that's left in you vanishes. You get back to your room at 7:00 AM, and start getting ready for your classes.

The classes keep you occupied till 6:30 (sometimes, even 8:30) in the evening, with intervals that can range from 15 minutes to 2 hours, depending on your fortune for the day.
The classes are intertwined sporadically with visits from eminent corporates like Larry Murphy (COO, UBS) (loads and loads of gyaan ).

6:30 - 9:30 can involve any of these:
- A power Nap
- Bakar
- Club interactions (Fin, Marketing, Trade, Consulting & Entrepreneurship)
- Shopping (SIM Cards are of utmost priority in this sector )
- A brief visit to the hospital if u're one of those Delhi-Viral-Victims (quite a few of them were down in the first week)
- An introspective swell of pride - the General euphoria about how great a place IIFT is (or) Resenting on the biggest mistake you've made till date - opting for an MBA - and discussing it with your batchmates (believe you me, this is undoubtedly the best way to get to know your batchmates)
- Coursework (only if you've got nothing better to do )

A brief dinner later, 10:00 sharp, the PDPs start and the interaction game begins. Talent shows, freak intros, skits, advertising campaigns...they've got it all. You are free any minute from 2.30 - 3:00 AM, and then you retire for the day...only to find yourself being kicked on your a*& two hours later.

Added info:
IIFT generally doesn't have the funda of weekends...U are loaded 24X7 ... if u'd ask me, I'd say that we're damn lucky to have a weekend in between...created a new record of sorts by sleeping for 18 hours on the trot .

The Intel-Processed Laptop Configurations - fundas

2007-05-30T10:52:00.000-07:00

As it always was, this is the time for a furore in Laptop markets. I've been vella enough in the past month or so to research all the laptops in the market. I had a tight budget (<45K) and wanted no compromise on the config part. The most important thing that I was looking for was the Battery life. All these pts made me zero in on the Dell Inspiron 6400...quite an obvious choice for low-budgeters.

At the time of buying the laptop, I was faced with the processor-RAM-Peripheral configurations conundrum...CoreDuo Vs Core2Duo, the role of clock speed (1.66 GHz, 1.73GHz...) etc. The free time aided me in collecting some useful technical information about the processors.

This post is to help you guys figure out what combination you should be looking for a laptop so as to achieve max efficiency...basically ur money's worth. Here u go...

The Core2Duo has an inherent edge over the CoreDuo one, that can range from 5% - 25% depending upon the tasks u're performing (the more CPU intensive the task, the bigger the advantage). AFAIK, we're buying lappies for everyday essentials like word processing, mails, songs, XL etc. These are not CPU intensive tasks.

This advantage can, however, be offset by the clock speed (basically something that decides how fast the processor can perform a logical operation) of the processor. So a 1.83 GHz Core Duo processor is better than the 1.73 GHz Core 2 Duo one for everyday essentials. (do the math urself ) If we consider gaming...the 1.73 GHz Core 2 Duo outperforms the 1.83 GHz Core Duo one by 10% (nothing to write home about )

Another performance factor is The Front Side Bus factor. (FSB) (FSB is the means for Memory-processor-memory and periphal-processor-peripheral data transfers)

The intel Dual-Core processors either come with a 667MHz Front Side Bus config or a 533 MHz FSB...so theoritically speaking, the 667MHz lappy should be 25% faster than the 533MHz one.

The problem with the current laptops is that even though the RAMs and HardDisks have been upgraded to the 667 MHz versions, a lot of peripherals still run at 533 MHz...so the 667MHz versions of the laptops do not run at 100% efficiency...as a result, they're finally just 10% faster than their 533Mhz counterparts. So even if u buy these, it'll constantly haunt u that these 'dabbas' run 15% slower than they're supposed to.

Now the problem with the Dell 667MHz versions is that Dell provides a 1GB or 2GB 533MHz RAM with this processor (yeah yeah as a part of befooling the innocent junta). This, in effect, makes the laptop 'handicapped'...all the advantage it's got over the 533MHz counterparts has been annulled because of the processor-memory mismatch. So if u're going for a Dell, be extra careful to see that the RAMs FSB config matches with the processor's. Please note that a 667MHz RAM for a 533MHz processor is equally erroneous.

One more thing to consider is the DIMM (Dual In-Line Memory Module) thingy...the DIMM is basically a RAM stick that u see on ur Laptop...each DIMM goes into a RAM slot in ur laptop. Dell provides you with 2-4 RAM Slots. If u go for a 2-slot Laptop, which I think is default in India,and if u're buying 2 sticks of 512MB, there won't be a way u can upgrade in the future. So better go for a 1GB, 1DIMM, 533MHz thingy, so that u get an empty slot for future upgrade. [Some might ask...why 2GB RAM? ... well in case u decide to upgrade to Vista in the future, u'll definitely 2GB for an enhanced experience.]

Now coming to the Processor FSBs, These are the most commonly used B-School processors: CoreDuo - T2300 (1.83 GHz, the one many of us, including me, go for) - 533 MHz Core2Duo - T5300(1.73 GHz, the one mentioned as an upgrade) - 533 MHz Core2Duo - T5500(1.66 GHz, the one I suggest as a upgrade, if at all) - 667 MHz

Because of similar FSB Frequency, an upgrade from T2300 to T5300, is in effect not an upgrade.

While the higher clock speed benefits the T2300 users, the superior technology benefits the T5300 users and when compared with each other, there's nothing to choose between the two processors. So that's a definite 7-8K waste if u go for the T5300 instead of T2300.

The T5500 however is a genuine upgrade to the T2300 processor. If at all u wanna upgrade, go for the 1.66 GHz one...but the problem again, is the cost. 10K extra for upgrading everything to 667MHz. (RAM, HDD etc etc)

I just hope the technicalities are understandable. Now just go nail that lappy of urs.

My lamentation on artistry

2006-09-09T04:18:00.001-07:00

Not long ago (in comparison to the age of this universe), there was this human being who was extremely idle. He just had a raw hyena (which he hunted down) for food and was sitting under a tree, without a care in the world, after a hard day’s labor. His eyes suddenly fell on a stone that was a few feet away from him. His knowledge on stones was restricted to their breakability. If you give him a stone, he’d hit it hard on the floor and tell you whether it’d break or not.

Now this person’s tribe had built its communal game on this very concept. You have two stones and two teams of eleven players each. Each team owns a very well chosen stone (mostly granite, of whose chemical nature the tribe didn’t know). The game progresses in turns. The opponent’s stone is placed in a neatly designed ring and the player’s aim is to throw the stone as hard as possible so that the opponent’s stone breaks. The game progresses in turns, where each team alternates in aiming at their adversary’s stone.

Now, our subject was supposedly the coordinator of the game. He hails from the family that was solely responsible for inventing and maintaining the communal game and hence inherited the rights for conducting the game. One look at the stone, he was sure of its worth for the game. Just to test it, he aimed it at a similar stone that was lying beside it. What came out of the collision was a spark and a huge one at that. The surrounding leaves caught the fire and the fire began to spread.

Today, fire is used so extensively that we Indians call it one of the panchabhutas, one of the five essentialities that we human beings can’t do without. And to what do we attribute this to? - The playful intent of a tribesman? Ladies and gentlemen, it is this ability in a person to ‘grope’ into matters totally unrelated to him that I called artistry. The discovery of fire was artistry. The cognition of an apple falling from a tree was artistry. The attempt to mimic the bird and realizing the ambition to fly was artistry. The creation of a very ambiguous portrait of a busty woman is artistry. And my lamentation of artistry in this manner is sheer artistry.

FORGIVE ME

Hail Laloo

2006-06-22T02:40:00.000-07:00

I have tried to become serious about things happening about me. The try, however, didn't materialize. I've decided that the series 'Observations of a fucked up Indian' can wait until something worth the article occurs.

Laloo...a tribute...

George Bush, Manmohan, Musharaff and Laloo have a conference with GOD to find out the fate of their ideologies.

Bush: God...when will I see the end of terrorism in this world?
GOD: Not in ur life time son. I'm sorry...
Bush: (with tears in his eyes) (leaves)
Manmohan: God...when will i see a Kashmir free of terrorism?
GOD: Not in ur life time son. I'm sorry...
Manmohan: (with tears in his eyes) (leaves)
Musharaff: God...when will I see Kashmir as a part of Pakistan?
GOD: Not in ur life time son. I'm sorry...
Musharaff: (with tears in his eyes) (leaves)
Laloo: God...when will I see Bihar as the most prosperous state in the country?
GOD: (Silent)(tears start pouring down)
Laloo: (dumbstruck) God...what happened? did I make a mistake?
GOD: No my son, it's not your mistake...that won't happen in MY lifetime...

Observations of a fucked up Indian - 1

2006-05-18T00:42:00.000-07:00

A few days back, the Supreme Court has taken a decision on the Sardar Sarovar Dam. The construction has been allowed. It doesn't matter to the court that in a few days, one lakh Indians will be peregrinating to a place that they have never set their eyes on, the Indian towns. Just imagine yourself in the position of the tribal/rural folk of Madhya pradesh, who are to be rehabilitated. Just imagine that god has given you a very meagre Intelligence Quotient and an extremely minute amount of exposure to the world outside your own village. Imagine yourself inheriting the naivety of an average Indian rustic. You work for nobody other than yourself. You are the sole person responsible for your family. Most importantly, you are happy the way things are. Now you are, out of the blue, forced to vacate your house and shown a new house, most probably in the slum of an average Indian town. What do you do now? Get yourself, your wife and your children hired as a labourers? Or drink away all the rehabilitation damages paid by the government, and when you're done with squandering everything away, with the last few rupees you have managed to save, buy yourself and your family a bottle of poison and do the penultimate. You might find it strange that these are the only two choices that I have given you. You might ask me 'What are the banks for?'. If you do, you are not empathizing.

You now put yourself out of the rustic's shoes and question the governement about the happenings. It will reply, 'Government stands for the greater commong good!'. Now India is one of the densest country in the world, in terms of population. If you decimate India, you will be left with enough free space for the world to live happily for at least another 100 years, without any space problems. Would you proceed? What happened to the greater, common good? Has it suddenly gone down to your throat and digested by your already busy intestine? Now the government vomitted the phrase 'Greater Common Good', publicly, for two reasons: For the irrigation of the agrarian Suarashtra and for supplying drinking water to Gujarat. Take any state in India and make a list of common problems they face. It wouldn't be surprising at all that Water tops the list. It's strange how a single chemical runs the whole world. By running, I not only mean physically but also mentally. You raise the issue of water and the sentiments of the people in a whole state (Gujarat, in this case) flare up. There is a common phrase used all around the world, mainly in movies that goes like 'Indians are sentimental fools'. The phrase hasn't become famous for nothing. When sentiments are raised, the thinking capabilities are automatically stopped. The situation would have been much better if the people in Gujarat would have taken a deep breath (thats all the time it takes to think doesn't it?) before carrying out their protests. First of all, Both the reasons weren't documented when the idea of the multi-purpose dam was brought out. Wily Government ours, we must say. Secondly, Saurashtra is at the end of the water line (canal) and the government and most engineers working on the same project are usnure of whether the water would reach that far. The reason being that the canal runs throuh major cities like Vadodara and Ahmedabad before it reaches Saurashtra. Now name one city in the world that doesn't use up or dirty all its available water resources. Here, we are talking of two major cities. Now what would the people in Saurashtra irrigate their land with? Mud?

It would take me another article to talk about the financial aspects of the Sardar Sarovar Project. The gist however is that dams are bad. It is a means used by the already developed nations to fuck the developing nations. They developed nations charge the developing nations heavily for the technology transfer. This, added to the huge operational costs makes it extremely expensive to build dams. If they would have invested the amount elsewhere in rural developmental programs, India would have been much better of. Dams stagnate the soil around the dam. In scientific terms, they cause 'watter logging'. The once-fertile area around the Sardar Sarovar Dam is now showing signs of salinity. The fact is that most of the dams in the developed nations are being blasted out because of their detrimental properties.

A Dam fucks up the soil, it fucks up the people around it and it fucks up people like me in the inside.
Damn the dams.

Observations of a fucked up Indian

2006-05-18T00:40:00.000-07:00

I have had enough of rosy stuff on my blog. I am now plunging into writing about more serious issues, Issues on which the life of millions depends. All the articles under this head will be a means of venting out my feelings on fucked up things that fuck me up in the inside.

Disclaimer: I am not responsible for inspiring any Assassin.

Getting Nowhere...

2005-10-23T23:16:00.000-07:00

There was a discussion - a pretty heated one that took place between me and my roommate. There are some sissies who say that you must look at the whole youth female population of the world as your sisterhood, except your wife. This blog is strictly not for that kind of people. If you are, then better get out of here before you change your mind. I am talking of the kind who, look at every young, attractive girl, other than his sister, as a probable. It started off with a straightforward question:

“What do you like in the supplement pages of Hindustan Times that you carry it all the way to the office and never bring it back?” Rohit asked.

“But of course the party scene and the related gharals in Mumbai.” No hiding from me.

“You always talk of the soulmate, a person with whom you are destined to build a life for yourself. The why do I observe you drooling over each and every goddamn female, who ostentatiously projects every part of her body?” A tough one it actually made me think. I had to be back at the consummacy of theory framing in order to convince the recalcitrant fella. I started off…

“Female beauty is of two kinds. One’s the beauty of the body, the outward appearance and the other is the beauty of the soul, the inner beauty. Both these kinds have an effect on a male. If they don’t we’re not talking of males.” He nodded in acquiescence. We were getting somewhere.

“The beauty of the body, the first kind, has a temporary effect on the mind of a male. The effect may be for minutes, hours, or in some cases even days. But that’s it. What ensnares you is the beauty of the mind. The effect is permanent. What the supplement does to me is something that keeps me happy, temporarily.” Funda framed and the first question answered..

“Now when you see a girl, the first thing that gets you is the outward beauty, because that’s what is visible in a girl, the first time you see her. Now if you’ve got it in you, you will approach her and talk to her. Out of all the females you approach, your search ends with the female where her inner beauty matches with your idea of it. That is your Soulmate.” Soulmate defined.

He nodded. I never cared to reflect on what I’d said, till now. Sounded pretty convincing eh?

TWENTY-FIVE : Chapter 0 - THE END

2005-10-21T00:29:00.000-07:00

January 5, 2005

It was a hard day at the office for Martin Etkinson, he was tired, and he felt the need to refresh himself in the adjacent bar. He walked into it in the same way he’d always done, for the past five years, as if there was a purpose in his visit. When he had three pegs down in him, he started to ruminate on what exactly made him that tired today.

‘There are many kinds of working days.’ He thought to himself. ‘Some, where no work comes by; some, where there is work, but at discontinuous intervals of time; some where work is continuous throughout the day.’ He poured down another peg into his glass, then some ice and continued the contemplation. He then reflected on the things he did today. The first one-hour in the office was spent reading the newspaper, in anticipation of the arrival of the customer, whom he was to introduce to his superior. He then got a call from a vendor telling him that he had mailed him the technical documents of some components he was to include in his pet project. He logged in to his account; found the documents impertinent called up the vendor to resend the documents. The rest of the day, he was waiting for the soft copies, in vain. ‘I hate waiting, it tires me’ the contemplation continued. Five pegs down; he suddenly realized that he loved his work. He then concluded to himself that the objective of today’s solitary session was met and called the waiter for the bill.

Five years back, the first time he’d tasted alcohol, he concluded to himself that the purpose of his life was to get to know his own person. He never actually understood why everybody neglected their own person, the most beautiful creation of God, and instead went after other creations, the nature, the technology and whatever. He concluded that these were the people who never realized the importance of being themselves, the importance of being men. And then he concluded, for the first time, ‘I hate people’. The same session, he also came to the conclusion that he’d never leave alcohol, it created a mindset where he could think freely about himself. He swore to himself that he would spend everyday in getting to know something new about his person.

He came out of the bar, satisfied with the day’s result and felt refreshed. He placed his hands in the warm comfort of his pants pockets. He then felt a chain, a possession that was supposed to be forever in his hand’s reach. He looked at the woman’s picture, in the locket hanging from the chain, went into a reverie for sometime and then started to walk home. It’d been exactly five years when she’d left him. ‘She reached her destiny, so will I.’ He thought to himself.

He reached his house, got out the key, and rotated it seven times to unlock the door. He’d custom made the lock to suit his own purpose, just to remind himself how much he mistrusted the people, the resentment growing exponentially each time he rotated it.

He directed himself to his bed, threw himself carefully upon it, realized that he was thirsty, got up and fetched himself a bottle from the fridge. He then went back to his bed, and got ready for a deep slumber.

He felt it very suddenly, his chest twitched, he was perspiring. He still had the bottle in his hand. He tried to open it, and he felt it again. He felt his wet shirt. He tried to undress. It was too hot. He felt it again and he collapsed onto his bed. He could think of nothing. It was pain, immense pain. All he wished now was that it would all be over. He was waiting for the end, waiting for the destiny he’d always assumed for himself. He waited for one last slug that would take him away. The pain persisted. Suddenly, something flashed in front of his eyes...

The child was gone...the dream was gone...

MAMA...

2005-10-17T21:16:00.000-07:00

This was a song written by me, composed by the band "Three Times a Day" (no more). It wouldn't take much of your thinking to deduce that it's a suicide note.

The band credits:

Vocalist: Sarang Tatimatla
Guitarists: Rohan Misra, Abhishek Guha, Amit Yadav
Basist: Ankit
Drummer: Vivek Pradeep

Mama, would you just let me go
To a place where I'd be left all alone
Tell me, why you tied me down
from doing all the things I was meant to do alone

You led me to a world of emptiness
Where I could never see the light inside of me
You left me with the fear of loneliness
All that you cared was good but I never felt at home

But somehow I believe, I can be on my own]
But somehow I believe, yeah ].......x2

Mama, I'm glad to go away
To a place I'd never gone, or you would ever go
Sometime we shall meet again
And hope that this note would've changed your mind

But somehow I believe, I can be on my own]
But somehow I believe, yeah..............].....x2

I leave this lonely place...I leave this lonely place......x8

But...(Fiction)

2005-09-02T12:28:00.000-07:00

It was a blasé start for Hari that day. There was no coffee to greet him good morning. He spent most of the morning waiting for the paperboy, ignorant of the fact that the paper was stuck in the handle of the entrance. He scanned the fridge for some food, found an egg, and decided to have a go at making an omelet for himself. Just as he was done with the omelet, the phone rang, its tone piercing the awkward silence in the house. Hari was caught unaware and rushed to attend it. When he returned to the kitchen, he was not at all surprised to find a thick black mass of carbon on the frying pan. The over fried stench that pervaded the house disallowed him from eating anything else. He finally sat down to meditate, just as he did everyday, realizing he could not concentrate anymore, had an express bath and left for the office a good one hour before time. He glanced at the sky as he got out of the house. There was not a single patch of blue to meet his eyes. All he saw was a consitent dull gray hemisphere. He couldn't but help compare the dull climate with his equally dull morning.

"What's gone wrong with me?" he said to himself on his way to the office. "Am I missing my wife…or...have I got used to a whole year of being lazy?" After a little more thinking, he decided that it was the latter that sounded better, his chauvinistic attitude not allowing to admit to the former.

When he reached the office, he saw that the work for the day was stereotypical. All he had to do was clear some pending files from the day before, and look at a fresh set of files which had just been brought in. The work took him more time than he expected, before he realized it was time for lunch.

As he sat down to eat the canteen food, he remembered the words of his chairman on the day he was inducted. “The canteen serves very good food, extremely rich in nutrients. Its doors are always open for our employees.” He observed during his first three years that the ‘nutrients’ came at the expense of taste. The food lacked in the minimum required amount of salt and spice that was expected in any kind of meal. But being a bachelor at that time, Hari had very alternative few options.

But, ever since his marriage, an year before, he couldn’t remember a single time he’d eaten at the dull canteen. He recalled the first dinner Tina prepared for him.
“Did my mom teach you how to cook?” he asked her after devouring the meal.
According to Hari, it was supposed to be a compliment. Tina took it the other way and triggered their first post-marital argument. He remembered the sordid words exchanged between them. The animosity lasted for one whole day, before both the parties realized how foolish they had been and conciliated, promising each other never to quarrel again.

The arguments and quarrels, however found their way into their topsy-turvy marriage life. But the final blow took place the previous night, when Hari, drunk, mentioned something, which he could not recollect now, about her only boyfriend during college days. However, he remembered Tina going back to her bedroom, in tears, impertinently closing the door on his face. She came out of her bedroom, directed herself towards the front door saying, “I won’t come back unless you come to my parents’ home and say sorry for what you’ve said.”
“In your dreams!” Hari had retorted.

Unconsciously, Hari felt a drop of tear at the tip of his left eye, waiting to run down his cheeks. The emotions stopped pouring out and Hari somehow managed to let it dry at that very spot. The hunger had left him. He had some fruit at the counter and left the canteen. After he’d reached his office, he looked out of the French window. He was shocked to see the intensity of the rain that was coming down. He got lost looking into the dense drops nature’s cast down on the earth, and suddenly realized the gravity of the statement he’d passed last night.
“It is my fault.” He said to himself. “But I was drunk. She should have understood.” He wanted to console himself.

He had just decided to apologise and get her back when he heard a knock on his door. It was his secretary, with a bunch of new files in her hand. He wanted to send them away, but his eyes fell on the bright yellow post-it stuck on the files. It cried “URGENT”. He had no option but to look through them.

By the time he finished with the paper work, it was dawn. He observed that his office was almost empty, barring a few, who had just arrived there to attend to their duty. He quickly packed his bag, and left his office hurriedly. On reaching the ground floor, he saw the lobby swarming with people drenched from head to toe. All of them were seeking refuge from the rain. The surroundings of the office were blurred by the dense downpour. The water outside was up to the knee level and Hari had to, by all means, go to meet Tina. He wanted to sort out all the things that went wrong between them. He wanted to feel the soft touch of her lips on his.

With the basement locked, the access to his car was cut-off. The only way Hari could reach her parents’ house seemed to be a fifteen-kilometer long walk. The calculation that went through his mind told him it would take around three hours to reach there. That would mean a night’s stay at her parent’s house. He made up his mind to walk through, even if it meant an attack of pneumonia.

It was a downpour, a terrible one, like that he had never seen before. His umbrella was rendered helpless. The wind was howling and there was no escape from getting drenched. He abandoned his umbrella mid-way. It was more of a burden than help. The walk, which started off though knee-deep water, was now, an hour later, a wade through waist-deep water. To keep his spirits up, Hari started off with his favorite ‘Chale chalo…’ tune. The people walking beside him took the cue and joined in. In fact all through Hari’s walk, the ‘rain-walkers’ were singing with zest and zeal, singing any song that could lift their spirits and make them forget the precarious situation they were in. This was probably the famous ‘spirit of Mumbai’, that he’d heard a lot about and was experiencing for the first time.

Hari finally reached Tina’s colony, and her house was very near. The water was still waist deep. He was already thinking of how happy Tina would be on seeing him at her doorstep. He couldn’t wait to see her. He would get freedom from these truculent floods, and have Tina back, this time renewed in a much stronger bond.

While Hari was pondering over what her reaction would be, he committed the biggest blunder of his life. He ignored a rumbling noise, he thought he heard a few seconds before, taking it for some engine’s noise. He suddenly felt a huge impulse on his head and then darkness.

It is strange how, in a jiffy, one can grab defeat from the jaws of success. How one can fall deep in love with a person. How, in a momentary lapse, one can lose one’s life.

The next moment, I saw Hari, lying crushed under a huge stone that came rolling from a near-by hill.

I still see her every moment, still want to be with her, still want to be morphed. But…