Google my position

I am back...after a long hiatus!

Anyways, I don't think anyone missed me, but for those who do care (all 3 of them) - I was busy with - a career shift, some personal projects and in general busy coping with life. But, I hope to be back to regular blogging now.

So, getting to the trigger for the post - I downloaded the Google Map application on to my mobile. The attractive part was that it promised to indicate my location (or to be technically correct, my mobile's location) on the map. So, after downloading the application and struggling to install it, I eagerly tried it out. And after 4 whole minutes of "Installing...", "Loading..." and "Yes, dear - I will be right there for dinner..." messages - it finally displayed the location - Close to Rt 57 near Fort Payne. I was overjoyed - at last I can know where I am. Imagine the possibilities - I will never get lost, never asking for directions anymore, no more downloading maps, etc etc...

...and then someone pointed out that my location was incorrectly shown. There is no Rt 57 or Fort Payne near Mumbai!

This blog is family friendly

Question!

Will it be better to increase the number of local trains OR will it be better to build bigger, wider and more roads?

Movies

"We are going to the movies...", My dad would announce in the morning.

Me and my sister - on hearing this, would jump with joy. Movies used to be a monthly affair during our childhood. Unlike the multiplexes of today, the movie theater used to be a single screen building near our house. It had an asbestos sheet and during summers used to be very very hot. Considering the fact that none of the hindi movies during the late 80s and early 90s were good, it is a wonder that we managed to sit through many of them in the sweltering heat.

Our trips to the cinema used to be usually on a sunday afternoon. Occasionally, when the Amitabh starrer released, we insisted with our parents that we have to see the movie in the first week itself. This was important so that we could participate and contribute in the furious critical discussions that used to happen in our school groups - "Amitabh's entry is excellent, boss" OR "Amrish Puri is taught a great lesson by Amitabh in that scene..." etc etc.

On movie day, we would be on our best behaviour - lest parents decide to cancel the plan in case of any mischief on our part. We would finish our lunch, and then dad would be off to the theatre to buy the tickets. We would pray that tickets are available and not sold-out.

Dad would comeback - and let us know that tickets have been purchased. We would quickly dress up, Mom would pack some snacks and then we would be off to the movie.

The movie hall used to be packed with all kinds of people. There used to be no A/C and we would be sweating by the time the movie started. My Dad, never liking movies, used to always nod off during the show, but we would be watching the movie with rapt attention.

Thinking back, I used to enjoy the whole event a lot - although dad never like movies that much, he used to still take us to the movies. Also, Sunday used to be his only off day, but he would come with us uncomplainingly. Mom and Dad would be sitting on both sides and would pass on snacks for us to eat during the show. Ahhh...it was a heavenly experience!

Thanks a lot, Mom and Dad!!!!

Scientific breakthrough!

Yes, finally the question that has been plaguing mankind and woman kind the past few centuries has been answered!

Impressing the wife...

Been quite busy lately, with transition issues! But hey, this news report brightened up my whole day.

Unemployed Bangalore contractor-cum-engineer I K Narayan may or may not have seen Kalyana Parisu but he went to far greater lengths to impress his wife Geetha. After failing the Karnataka Public Service Commission examination, he told his wife that he had passed and been appointed an assistant commissioner of commercial tax (ACCT).

To make his story more plausible, he acquired a white Ambassador car, adorned it with a flagpole, the logo of two departments and a ‘government’ number-plate saying MEX-42. To round off things, Narayan even acquired a baton and a fake walkie-talkie instrument.

However, his luck ran out at 11.30 am on the morning of Friday, April 27, when his vehicle was stopped by the traffic police who were intrigued by the unusual registration-number. The ‘ACCT’ threatened to complain to the senior police officers but his ‘fury’ evaporated when the traffic cops contacted the state commercial-taxes department and were told that no official by that name was working with them.

The cops promptly arrested Narayan who told them that he had put on the act to impress his wife and not to cheat anyone. Whether Narayan’s act will inspire a movie or two remains to be seen!

Come to think of it, there is a whole potential business opportunity here. A lot of us out there want to impress our wives! A firm that handles these aspirations would mint money. A possible dialog with your client would go like this:

You: Ok Sir, so how do you want to impress your wife?

Client: Er, hmm, I have told her that I own a couple of oil wells in Nigeria and also a significant shareholding in Exxon...

Y: No problem sir! Oil is our speciality! Our consultants will help you with all the information you need about the industry. We can even rent out oil tankers to be carried in front of your house - the driver can stop and ask you directions etc. You can tell your wife that they had come to meet you to determine their future strategies etc.

Client: oh wow...(immense gratitude and relief on his face)

We can even extend this business opportunity to unmarried males. After all, thats the period during which males try to impress the girls.

OK, OK - all this transition business is making me senile. I will, therefore, stop here. Now I need to go home and impress my wife - after all, I am planning to buy a space shuttle.

I quit...

I quit my job today. Immense nervousness at what the future may hold for me and my family, but also lots of excitement!

The days I screwed up (I) – The Mango incident!

(Presenting below the first of a series where I humiliate myself by recounting embarrassing incidents from my childhood!!!! Why am I doing this? Call it sado-masochism!)

It was an annual ritual to visit my hometown in Kannur in Kerala, where both my maternal grandparents as well as my paternal grandmother lived. It used to be the best time for both me and my sister, as it meant extreme pampering, delicious fried fish, mouthwatering Malabar-style chicken biryani at weddings, lots of cousins to play with and the ultimate pleasure – sucking on delicious mangoes!!!

We used to be stuffed on juicy mangoes at our grandparents houses. However, there used to be a slight difference in the mode of eating mangoes at my father’s and mother’s place. At my mom’s house, we used to be given large pieces of mangoes properly cut and served in plates. However, my dad’s relatives believed in eating the fruit in the old-fashioned way – plucking them from the tree directly and eating there – why involve such modern appliances like knives and plates to enjoy the fruit! Needless to say, we belonged to their school of thought in this aspect!

We used to spend hours honing the fine skills of aiming stones at the mangoes hanging from the tall trees and once they had fallen down, wiping them on our shirts and then hungrily biting large chunks off them.

This incident happened during the summer holidays immediately after my SSC exams. We reached my dad’s place at about 11 AM. My Vellyamma (Dad’s elder sister) had promised fish curry and showed us a huge cooking pot on the cooking place. The cooking place was open from the top to allow the smoke from the firewood to go away. I quickly got together with my cousin – Pravin and vellyachchan (Vellyamma’s husband) and decided to hit the trees near the gates of the house.

We reached the gates and were not disappointed with the sight. There was the huge mango tree in front of us, laden with the juicy fruits. We quickly reached out and plucked a couple of them. As we bit into them, we realized that they were sour.

“The sweet ones are on the top”, vellyachchan wisely suggested.

“Hmm…ok…lets get some of the mangoes down from the top”, Pravin said.

“OK”, said I. We picked up some of the stones lying around and started throwing them at the mangoes near the top. Some of these mangoes must have been at a height of more than 25 - 30 feet.

None of the stones that I threw went beyond 15 feet. My vellyachchan and my cousin started giving me “weak-city-boy” looks. Needless to say, I was embarrassed with my throwing skills.

Lighting a bidi, my vellyachchan gave me a Clint-Eastwood-ish stare and said, “You will need to aim higher than that…you know!”

Understandably depressed at the situation, I decided to use my academic skills. After all, I had completed my Xth standard exams and was qualified to develop a condescending manner.

I told my vellyachchan to lend me his towel. He usually carried around the towel, a longish piece of cloth used for wiping sweat and driving away flies (Also used to hide the pack of bidis from his wife who thoroughly disapproved of smoking). He handed it to me with a cynical look. My cousin was staring at me as if I had gone mad.

I took the towel, selected a large sharp piece of stone and wrapped the stone in the towel. “Now watch what a little amount of brains can do”, I announced to my wonderstruck audience. Using the towel as a slingshot, I started swinging the towel with great force. One Swing…two…three…the cloth was gaining speed…and then I let go!

The stone swished (or zoomed or ) and sailed up into the sky. As it rose, I looked at them triumphantly. “Hehe…have you ever thrown like that?” I asked them. But then I realized that they were looking with mouth wide open at the sky. The stone was sailing up into the sky – having completely missed the mango, the tree and in fact going in the complete opposite direction from what I intended it to go in!

I swear that the next few events happened in slow motion. I could see vellyachchan and the cousin watching the stone sailing thru. The stone went on top of our house, paused mid-air as if contemplating next steps, then neatly went in thru the chimney. I could hear a loud plop, as the stone found its mark.

“Wow, nice shot…” My cousin said, in a serious tone. I gave him a withering look.

Almost immediately, a wail arouse from the house. “Eda…Mahapaapi!!!!” – I could hear my vellyamma’s furious cry. Apparently the stone had landed in the fish curry, smashing the pot, splashing the nearby onlookers with liberal doses of fish and curry, and making the kitchen a mess.

We ran, and by we – I mean, my vellyachchan, my cousin and of course me! I never knew my vellyachchan could run so fast! We returned after a couple of hours when we felt that she would have cooled down (My vellyachchan was an expert in estimating the time taken for my vellyamma to cool down!).

We walked in innocently just in time for lunch. Luckily they did not realize what exactly had happened, and was under the impression that a crow had dropped a stone while attempting to filch the fish.

Needless to say, no fish was served that day!!

The details of the incident remains a closely guarded secret to this day!

Put Vote

(Dhondu the donkey and Jamkatki the crow consultant had crossed paths here. Since then, they had become close friends exchanging thoughts and ideas about everything and nothing in particular.)

Dhondu watched the vehicles on the road growling impatiently. Jamkatki was perched on his shoulder. They were near the western express highway in Mumbai. It was evening and people were eagerly rushing back home.

Dhondu: Sigh!…this seems to be a regular occurrence! Aren’t these people tired of the endless traffic jams?

Jamkatki: I am sure they are, but they deserve it.

D: What? How can you say such a thing? Have some pity on them.

J: Why? They are the ones who are responsible for the mess!

D: (in the best sarcastic tone that he could muster) O exalted one! Please elaborate on your statement!

J: It is like this – Indians claim that India is a democracy. However, their idea of a democracy is flawed. (Dhondu noted that Jamkatki had referred to Indians as “them”, as if he did not want to associate himself with the concept of Indianness). Democracy is a participative form of government, in which everyone is a part of the governing process. In India, people vote for politicians every 5 years, and then spend the time between elections, blaming the politicians for everything.

D: But aren’t they justified in doing so? You know as well as me that these guys haven’t done anything to improve the standard of living of the people.

J: Sigh….Dhondu, you are too naïve! Tell me – you are a washerman’s apprentice. Do you get complaints from your customers ever?

D: Oh yes…there is Mrs Sharma who always feels that the clothes are not as bright as it could have been, and then there’s Mrs D’Souza who insists that the ironing is not enough.

J: So, what do you do about it?

D: Well…Some of the customers started holding back their payments. So, we had to do something about it and started scrubbing and ironing the clothes of these customers harder.

J: (smiling)…and why did you do that?

D: …because these people made life hell for us. You see we cannot afford to ignore them – after all they pay for our daily bread.

J: Exactly…in the same way, the people need to be more demanding from their leaders. And I am not even talking about leaders at the national political scene. I am talking about the local corporators and other community leaders. Hold them responsible, make them accountable, demand periodic reports from them about the status of the various initiatives, measure their performances against their manifestos, do not give them peace until the issues are solved.

D: Hmmm…never thought of it this way…you do have a point.

J: The people here do not bother to spare time to attend local meetings, monitor the progress of the various initiatives, talk to their local leaders. Some of them do not even vote and proud of the fact. Why should the leaders do anything at all, if there is no pressure on them to perform?

D: What else?

J: And if you notice, more than half the time, it is these very people who break the laws or look for the easy way out. Notice the impunity with which they break the traffic rules. How can they blame the government for inefficiency, when they themselves behave in such an idiotic way?

D: I see what you mean…

“Look Ma! That donkey is talking to that crow!!!”, a boy yelled from a passing car. The mother admonished the child for his exaggeration, while secretly approving his imagination.

Jamkatki flew away and Dhondu started walking back home!

People – If you are in Mumbai and find yourself on the electoral rools, please caste your vote in the BMC Elections tomorrow!!!!