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!!!!

A Self-referential post!

"It has been almost a month since I last posted!", Boskoe thought to himself. "December is almost coming to an end...need to put in a post before the 31st" - Boskoe had set himself a target of posting at least twice every month. He had planned to scale up after about 3 months or so!

"So what do I post about? Should I talk about the Singur controversy?...or should I offer my opinions on the Jessica Lal case sentencing?"

"hmm...Ok - let me try to write a review on some of the recent movies - but which one? I dont find any of them interesting...and anyways - more interesting reviews by far better writers can be seen here and here!"

"What about a short story - one with a twist in the ending...or probably the poignant tale of a farmer who is preparing to commit suicide...or it could be about perfect numbers and their uses" - Boskoe was now clearly desperate!

Suddenly a thought struck him - "Yes! why not? After all, that is also interesting..."

"I will write a post on my attempt to find a suitable subject for a post!!!!!"

Pleased with this idea, Boskoe started furiously punching away on his laptop.

He began - ""It has been almost a month since I last posted!", Boskoe thought to himself. "December is almost coming to an end...need to put in a post before the 31st" - Boskoe had set himself a..."

As an afterthought, he even placed a link at the end of his post to his own post here.

Nonsense and Hypocrisy!

Trains, buses, cars, shops and houses were stoned and burnt in Mumbai, because a statue in Kanpur was desecrated by a drunk fellow.

I was contemplating the sheer stupidity of the whole situation and also wondering whether a potato had more IQ than the combined intelligence of the protesting mobs, when I noticed something else...

The Hindu has noted that this protest was actually against the government apathy in the case of the Khairlanji massacre. They have asked us to introspect the reasons for the violence. This is completely ridiculous.

Agreed that the Khairlanji incident was outrageous. The Bhotmange family deserves justice. But, is destroying public and private properties the way to achieve this? Why should people who have nothing do with the incident be punished? Tell me something - when the trains (with passengers in it) were burnt in Godhra, there were similar backlashes in Gujarat resulting in the riots in which Muslims were targetted. How is this incident different from that? In this case too, completely unrelated people in Mumbai were targetted for the above incidents. And post-riots there was all round condemnation of the Gujarat govt and Narendra Modi (rightly so!) for their handling and implicit support for the pogrom! Why is there not a similar condemnation for this event? Why weren't we asked to understand the basis for the riots then? I wonder why?

Note that I am not trying to justify the riots or supporting Narendra Modi. In my opinion, both these events are similar - and just indicates the impunity with which we Indians are allowed to break the law. If one incident has been condemned, then the other deserves equal condemnation.

Nothing justifies damage to public and private property. For all the people crying hoarse and justifying the violence, all I have to say is - please be consistent, otherwise you are no different from the idiots who justified the riots in Gujarat!

Interesting webcomic Link...

Check this link - A webcomic site with interesting takes on science, maths, sarcasm and language!

Priyanka Bhotmange... Status Update

As per the latest news, the govt has ordered a CID investigation into the incident. Hope that the guilty are punished as soon as possible. Also, hope that the administration officers like the Police (who were slow in issuing an FIR) and the hospital authorities (who gave a medical report that the women were NOT raped) are also punished for dereliction of duty. If anything, their crime is much worse than that of the perpetrators!

Roadtrip in Mumbai

7:00 PM – At last! time to leave. Another day spent in pretending to work. Now to head back home. Wait – let me bark a few “last minute to-dos” at my people.

7:03 PM – Shutting off the laptop; Damn thing has decided to install some updates before dying – will take an extra 5 minutes to shut down

7:09 PM – the laptop took an extra 6 minutes!

7:15 PM – out of the office, in the corridor now, waiting for the elevator. Oh no! – here comes P. P, with his Indian-culture-and-Hinduism-rocks attitude, has to be avoided. Where is the goddamn elevator when you need it?

7: 20 PM – Elevator 1 comes, stops, leaves without opening door. Curses on you, Otis! Meanwhile P is now talking about how Ayurveda cured his father’s bronchitis. Nod genially, fervently hoping that Ayurveda finds a cure for verbal diarrhea too!

7:27 PM – Elevator 2 comes, stops. I jump in before the doors decide to close. Bump into Partner coming out of the lift. “Hey Hey B, in a hurry to go home? Half day today?”, he says. Sheepish smile. P smiles next to me and then takes off on “karmanye vaadikarasthe…etc”

7:28 PM – Finally enter the elevator. On the brighter side, P has been summoned by partner. P leaves. Feeling of elation.

7:31 PM – reach parking lot, search for driver – he is not to be seen. Curse driver, kicks self for not calling him up before leaving.

7:35 PM – finally locate driver. Car parked on the other side of the street, will have to walk there.

7:40 PM – car behind me honks as I am walking towards MY car. These idiotic drivers – they think they own the road. Turn around and show him the finger.

7:45 PM – get into car, starts moving towards the main road – pedestrian in front, car honks. These idiotic pedestrians – they think they own the road. Car gets on the road to home.

8:00 PM – Stuck in Mahim

8:15 PM – Stuck in Mahim

8:30 PM – Stuck in Mahim

8:45 PM – Stuck somewhere between Mahim and Home

9:15 PM – Reach home, finally! Note to self – next time, will take the train! At least, the agony is over in 30 minutes.

So what was Krishnaswami thinking when he said yes to her?

Ammani has an interesting series of questions, where readers (writers????) are encouraged to write a short story around the question.

In this case, the question was: So what was Krishnaswami thinking when he said yes to her?

My story below:

Krishnaswami had spent a sleepless night.

In an unnatural act of parental responsibility - he had agreed to help his daughter with her homework. Solving multiple variable linear equations and identifying the capitals of various sub-saharan countries had given him a bruised ego, as he realized that he really did not know much. But, the real brain scrambler came when his daughter asked him, "Appa, how do you spell bo'sun?" When he gave the logical response - B-O-S-U-N, she replied - "No Appa, our teacher said that is not the correct spelling - and we have to find the correct spelling by tomorrow!"

He was still thinking about this the next morning as he boarded the bus to T Nagar. He was already late for office, but his mind was pre-occupied with the possible spelling of bo'sun (B-O-T-S-O-N-E). "These english idiots - why do they not make their words spell the way they sound!", he thought to himself.

He saw the lady in the seat next to him get up. He eagerly jumped into the vacant seat.

He was thinking,"Let me try again - "Bee - Wow - Eay - Tee..."

The girl standing next to him gave him a hard prod and said - "Excuse me! You are sitting on a seat reserved for Ladies. Do you think I am an idiot standing here?"

"...Yess...ouch!" he screamed, pained at the prod that the girl had given him.

"What? You think I am an idiot?", The girl screamed!

As the good samaritans bundled Krishnaswamy out of the bus (presumably as punishment for usurping the ladies seat and calling her an idiot), he was still trying to figure out the way bo'sun was spelt, not knowing that it was B-O-A-T-S-W-A-I-N!

Priyanka Bhotmange

Priyanka Bhotmange and her mother were brutally raped and her brothers were killed - in yet another example of the lawlessness that prevails in some parts of this country.

Krish has raised a very interesting question. I think the incident has not got the due publicity it deserves. Nobody is outraged at this gross injustice - most probably because the incident happened in a "relatively" remote area. We need to put sufficient pressure to ensure that justice is done in this case.

In fact, this is probably not an isolated case. There are probably many more unreported incidents of such injustice. This is yet another example of how the so called privliged sections are able to use the powers in their authority to brutally suppress the underprivliged sections.

I am ashamed to see that on one hand we claim to be the "next superpower" while indulging in such medieval acts of suppression. We cannot claim to be a democracy if we cannot implement basic law and order in each and every district in our country. In fact, the best way to ensure that such incidents do not occur again, is to ensure that the perpetrators are caught and punished as soon as possible.

I hope this is done before the politicians jump into the act, offering their "sympathies"!

You can get more details about the incident here and pictures of the incident here.

Update: Extreme uproar over the pictures... but wait a minute! they are not condemning the incident, only the fact that the pictures have been posted! Wow - talk about "missing the point"! Stupidity, it seems, is not restricted to the main stream media, but also afflicts the blogosphere denizens.

Capital Punishment and clemency

Lots of blog posts have been dedicated to protest the capital punishment awarded to Afzal Guru. Yesterday, Santosh Singh - of the Priyadarshini Mattoo case - was sentenced to death. I am now waiting for the same people to start posting their take on the whole issue!

As an aside, I had blogged about the Priyadarshini Matto case here!

The Power of Analogies...

Sheikh Taj el-Din al-Hilali has been in the news recently, when he demonstrated his stupendous skills to analyze and explain human psychology. Social psychologists and legal luminaries have been trying for years to understand the root causes of rapes and injustices on women, but were not able to isolate any rott causes - at least, till Al Hilali came along.

In a path-breaking speech to his followers, Al Hilali explained the main reason for rapes. Contrary to popular opinion, it is not men who are responsible for the rapes, but the women who invite themselves to be raped. Explaining this difficult and profound concept to his followers, Al Hilali used examples from daily life to clarify the idea.

He gave the example of a piece of uncovered meat that is kept outside attracting cats, to explain how men are not in control of their senses and will automatically get "coerced" into behaving like cats..

"Such clarity of thought...", exclaimed one of his followers after the speech. "I mean - who would have thought of such a beautiful analogy to explain such an important concept."

Another supporter said, "Move over, Perelman - if you managed to solve the Poincare conjecture, big deal!! Al Hilali has been able to solve a problem that has been plaguing human beings and cats alike for ages"

Last heard, Al Hilali is planning to modify the analogy to suit his audiences - "sweets" replacing "meat" and "flies" instead of "cats" for vegetarian audiences; "fodder" and "cows" respectively for Bihar politicians,...etc

In addition, Hilali would also be presenting a paper on "Similarities between male humans and male cats..." in the next World Psychology Conference.

If there was a nobel prize in psychology, Al Hilali would have won that hands-down this year.
Here is hoping that we get to see more of his nuanced interpretations of life!

Brown study...

Apparently, gazing away into the horizon is supposed to improve your concentration! Good!!! So,now you know why I look like I am not paying attention, when you are telling me something - in fact, I am concentrating and thinking on your words.

Steve Irwin: Rest-in-peace

Steve Irwin is no more!

His show on Animal Planet never ceased to amaze me! I was, of course put off as many others, when he got his son into the picture! However that was quickly forgotten. What used to strike me most was his enthusiasm while working with animals - here was a man who loved his job! What I would give to be in his position (of loving one's job, NOT arm-wrestling with killer crocs! :D )

May his soul rest in peace!

Flying Etiquettes

In response to the treatment meted out to the 12 passengers on the Northwestern Airlines, much has been written about 'racial discrimination' and 'people of certain communities being branded as terrorists'.

However, all I have to say is that - if these people did not follow the instructions to switch off their mobiles and remain in their seats while the flight is taking off, then they deserve the treatment. In fact, I have observed many Indians behaving in a boorish manner in flights - scrambling to get their baggage out of the overhead lockers as soon as the plane touches the ground, talking on the phones while the plane is taxiing to take off or land, loud conversations without bothering about the other people's wish for silence - the list is endless!

Next step - introduce similar 'disciplinary actions' in movie halls in India. I say, kick those idiots out (and place them in solitary confinement) who keep their cell phones on during movies, who talk to their neighbours loudly during the movie, who decide to get up out of their seats for a bathroom break in the middle of a movie etc etc.

Blogging activity...

Blogging activity has reduced partly because of a locational transfer from US to India, and partly because of the purported 'ban' on blogsites instituted by the Government.

Detailed blogging to come soon...!

The Commencement Address

Fifteen years from now, when I am invited to address the graduating batch in my alma mater, what will I tell them? (Why would I be the one who is selected for this honor, you ask? That is the topic of a future post)

Do I tell them about my achievements? Or do I tell them to believe in themselves and dream on? Or do I tell them to wear sunscreen?

Hmmm…good questions! And since, most of the audience will be eagerly holding on to each and every pearl of wisdom that I will be showering them with – I should start preparing for the grand event right away! So, here’s the first draft of my commencement speech for the batch of 2021! (Advance apologies, in case I unknowingly “internalized” any of the aforementioned commencement speeches!)

Batch of 2021! Twenty five years ago, I was sitting where you are sitting now. I was waiting for this long speech to get over, take my degree and then head out for an overnight drinking session with my friends. I did not pay too much attention to what was being said on that occasion, and was just glad to finally get my degree in my hand.

The statements so far do not have anything to do with the rest of my speech, but I had always wanted to say these things as part of my speech. So, now that part is taken care of, here is the rest of it!

During my working career, I have been forwarded several famous commencement speeches. As a Good Samaritan, I forwarded many of these across to others who wished to be successful. I have seen that almost all of these speeches contain quite a lot of general messages – be good, do good, be brave and dream, fail and then succeed, be honest, blah blah… Not one of them had any useful message on how to be truly successful.

As MBAs who are waiting to unleash their intellectual prowess on the world, you will no doubt be looking for tips to succeed. These commencement speeches will surely not help you! So, I have decided to compile together the secrets of my success. If you have any doubts as to whether these are effective or not, you can look at me as an example of the impact of putting these tenets to practice! After all, I did not become a trillionaire just by selling some innovative service / product, or marrying into a rich family, or winning a lottery!

Always blame it on others!
There will be lot of occasions when the crap will hit the fan. And when it does, you will be well prepared to make sure you have an umbrella! Whenever any of your initiatives fail magnificently, you should be sure to blame the whole fiasco on the incompetence of your team. The true measure of your success depends on how elegantly you deflect the blame. Phrases like “I take full responsibility for the failure of my team, but there is a limit to what I can achieve alone” and “the project failed due to many reasons, not the least of which was complete lack of support…” need to be used liberally during the judgment sessions that follow any such event.

Do not be afraid to quote statistics, even if they are made up!
73.42% of all statistics are made on the spot. So, when you are challenged by anyone who does not agree to your idea, be sure to use statistics as your weapon. Consider a scenario where you have proposed developing a flying machine for 1 person. When any unfortunate soul dares to ask you as to the practicality of such an invention, retort with statistics like “33% of all men have expressed their desire to fly alone at least once, with at most one other person, in their lifetime”. You may encounter some smart people who may ask you to provide the sources of your statistical information. You can retort that these studies are available for everyone to read on the internet, and that only a person with an IQ less than that of a potato will fail to see the business potential of this idea.

Always present a contrarian view!
Senior management of any company hates the concept of “yes men”! As a corollary, they love people who present contrarian views. There is a thin line of difference between being a contrarian and being a pessimist who opposes any idea being discussed. The trick is to be not too vehement with your views. So, let’s say everyone agrees that it is a good idea for the company to implement an ERP system to enable better information availability. You can give a knowing smirk and remark “I don’t agree with the point that the system will improve the performance of the company.” If you are challenged to support your statement, always refer to strategy #2 – use statistics liberally. However, at the same time, if you feel that people are very convinced by the idea, you can gracefully step aside with remarks like “I clearly seem to be in the minority and hence will not discuss this further…” Such a position also helps you to effectively use strategy #1 – blaming it on others – when things go wrong.

Use non-sequiturs when asked a question you don’t know the answer to!
Never directly answer any question. Consultants have honed this to a fine art and you can learn something from them. The standard answer to any question is “It depends…”! You should then proceed to look longingly into the horizon contemplating the future of humanity. Others will take it as a sign of deep thought and will most probably leave you alone. For the more tenacious among them, you can retort with unconnected statements. The statement “Industry trends and economic conditions predict the widespread adoption of antidisestablishmentarianism tactics in society” is guaranteed to silence your most ardent critic.

Better Late!
Remember that whoever said “Better late than never” had it wrong. The correct version is “Better Late”. Being late not only gives you the capability to push your work to the last possible moment, but also gives the impression to others that you are doing so thorough a job, that you need the extra time. Of course, always accompany this with a slovenly appearance and an unkempt beard, so as to give the impression of working very hard.

The above five principles will help you become successful with the minimum efforts on your part. Remember one thing – adopt all the above principles, and make sure that everyone who works for you DO NOT follow these tenets. Once you get these basic requirements set, no one can stop you from succeeding!

Hope all of you have noted down these points of wisdom, and will use it effectively. These will help you do well in any company that you work with. I, however, will certainly not be recruiting any of you guys into my companies (as I said earlier, I DON’T WANT ANYONE WORKING FOR ME TO FOLLOW THESE PRECEPTS).

Good luck to all you!

Invisibility Cloak

I made this as an entry to Amit's post, among my favorite bloggers (Amit...not the post :-) ) in the Indian blogosphere! So, here goes...

Invisibility Cloak and the top five things that I would do with it, if I got the chance:

5. Get into flights and visit countries - what better ways to get into exotic countries like Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran,... without a visa or a hefty insurance premium! I always wanted to visit them, but without any significant damage to life and limb!

4. Understand the decision making process of most ministers in our country - I always wondered what kind of thinking goes behind a policy decision. For example, Did Arjun Singh say, "Hmmm...let us see how to improve the plight of the OBC section of the country?" OR did he say, "Hmmm...how do I get back at Sonia for not making ME the PM?" Is there any better way to observe the men in action?

3. Attend all the film screenings that are made for the Indian Censor board - After all, that seems to be the only way I can watch a movie in India nowadays, without scenes being deleted or without any disclaimers being put up in the beginning of the movie.

2. Attend the meetings between heads of states - What kind of small talk happens between Manmohan Singh and Gen Musharraf when they meet up and the TV cameras have been switched off and the doors are closed? Does Manmohan say - "Haan Miya Mush, so what did you think about the shameful performance of the Indian cricket team? and ohh by the way, when are you shutting off the training camps?"

1. Re-stitch the invisibility cloak into an invisibility jump-suit - I think it will be pretty uncomfortable hiding inside a cloak, doing all the above. I will get it converted into a jump-suit - easier to wear and more comfortable to sneak around people.

Sati Savitri (Long Post)

Dec 12 2005, 6 PM IST

“…and this, my dear Ladies and Gentlemen, is the Sati Samadhi!!!”, Raghu announced grandly.

It was evening and the sun had decided to call it a day and was silently making its getaway from the horizon. “I am done for the night, see you tomorrow at 6 AM”, It seemed to say.

Raghu’s audience comprised a motley group of tourists – a French couple, a young couple from Mumbai, a student in her mid-twenties and a businessman in his mid-thirties.

Raghu had been a guide for nearly twenty years by now, having started when he was 13 years old. He enjoyed being a guide, showing off the local sights and explaining the local history to people.

“How do you know that whatever ‘history’ you are telling people is correct?” Pushpa (his wife) had asked him once. “Well, that’s what I learnt from my father and grandfather!” Raghu had replied indignantly. His wife had a talent of asking very simple but thought-provoking questions. “Shut up and mind your own business”, He had retorted angrily, raising his hand to strike her. She had shrunk into a corner with a terrified look on her face.

Today had been a particularly good day for Raghu. He had captured this group at the local train station in the morning. Having fought off other prospective guides, he had herded them together and had promised them a tour of the countryside. “History of Madhopur is very amazing, you will find everything here – love, religion, politics, murder” – He had proclaimed to his hostages.

They had spent the entire day touring through the local forts, lakes, temples and market-places. They had stopped a while for lunch in the afternoon and tea in the evening.

By now, Raghu had formed impressions of everyone in the group. The French couple seemed to be very curious, asking a lot of questions. They reminded him of his wife, with her endless barrage of questions. “Stupid woman!” he thought of his wife. “Stupid French”, he added.

The Mumbai couple seemed least interested in these places. “They are looking for some lonely spots to indulge in some necking,…Crazy people!!!…Why don’t they just do it at home or in their city?”, Raghu wondered.

The student seemed to be harmless, taking down detailed notes of whatever he had to say.

He found the businessman very annoying. “Always jumping in to complete my statements…and trying so hard to impress that girl…idiot!”, he thought.

“…As if you are the most intelligent person in the world. God! You are very conceited…”, Pushpa had remarked. “What do you mean?” He had asked defensively. “You know…you think that you are better than everyone and know everything about anything. You refuse to listen to the other person’s point of view …” She explained. “I am NOT conceited, and I refuse to accept that I do not listen to people. I HATE you…”, Raghu said as he angrily stormed out of the house.

“So, what is special about this place?” the French guy asked. “Absolutely nothing, you bloody gora fool!!!” Raghu almost said it out aloud, but stopped himself in time. “Not good for business!” he reminded himself.

They were in front of a circular patch of land in front of a small lake. The land was fenced with barbed wire around the perimeter. At the center was a small dome shaped structure, made of marble. It resembled a temple, but instead of the deity, there was a single lamp with a small flame in it, on top of a pedestal.

The land around the dome structure seemed to be freshly dug up, ostensibly to make flower beds. A number of jasmine creepers and rose plants were already planted and the flowers were in bloom.

The setting sun, the lake, the single burning lamp and the scent of the jasmine and rose flowers together gave a very mystical look to the whole place.

“This is one of the greatest monuments to love! If you thought that the Taj Mahal was a symbol of a husband’s love for his wife, then this is an everlasting symbol of a wife’s sacrifice for her husband!”

The young couple looked at each other and smiled. “I will make a similar one for you when YOU die!” they seemed to be telling each other.

“Wow…please tell us more!” the student was looking at Raghu.

“Oh…I am sure it is some local legend, without any basis! You can see a lot of similar memorials based on some superstition or baseless story.” the businessman commented.

Raghu wanted to step forward and give him a slap. “How dare you comment on our culture, you imbecile! What gives you the right to say such things?” he thought to himself, barely controlling his fury.

“Do you know what your problem is? You have a big inferiority complex and a terrible temper.” Pushpa was sobbing in a corner. “What do you mean?” Raghu growled at her. He had completed a three hour drinking session at home with his friends. One of his friends had remarked that he was lucky to have such a beautiful wife. After his friends had left, he had thrown a couple of glasses and plates at Pushpa and punched her. “You must have jiggled your assets in front of him, it is your fault, never again come out in front of my friends…” he warned her, as she nursed her bruises. “...and don’t you dare talk to me in that tone, a wife’s job is to obey her husband and not be insolent!”

“No, it is NOT a baseless story, it is an actual historically documented fact…”, Raghu explained.

“Savitri is a character in Indian mythology. She is considered and revered as the most devoted and loving wife in the history of mankind. She is said to have forced Yama, the god of death to restore her dead husband, Satyavan, back to life. She went on a fast and followed Yama around till he agreed to not take her husband’s life.” Raghu informed everyone.

The businessman interjected, “By the way, just because the story is part of Indian mythology, does NOT make it a historically documented fact…”. He was looking for approval from the student he was trying to impress. The student ignored him, and Raghu glared at him.

Raghu continued, “This is the place, where Yama finally relented. The lamp that you see in front of you, is supposed to have been lit by them as a thanksgiving gesture to Yama. In fact, we have not let the lamp to be extinguished – each month, one of houses in the village takes on the responsibility of making sure that the lamp stays lit. We have been doing these for the past fourty generations. By the way, this month is my family’s turn.”

They had stepped into the enclosure. The French couple were clicking photographs of the lamp. The student was following Raghu and takng down notes as he talked. The businessman was following the student. The young couple were near the flower bed – the guy plucking a flower and placing it on the girl’s hair, while she was smiling shyly.

“So, does your wife come here daily and put oil in the lamp?”, the French lady asked him.

Raghu replied, “Yeah…she did that till a couple of weeks ago, but then she had to go to her parent’s home. So, my daughter does it nowadays.”

“This was the last stop of our tour of Madhopur. Hope all of you enjoyed it!” Raghu announced.

“Yeah, it was interesting…”, came the reply.

“So, hopefully you will be able to show your appreciation in your tips for me…”. Raghu licked his lips in anticipation of the monetary rewards coming his way soon.

They started walking back towards the van which would carry the group back to the railway station.

“Hey, what’s that over there?”, the businessman asked. He was pointing towards the end of the jasmine flowerbeds. It seemed to be slightly unevenly dug up.

“Oh that’s nothing! Probably a new flower bed being made there by the panchayat. Let us go, folks, it is getting dark.” Raghu said.

They started walking towards the van, with Raghu leading the way.

Two weeks ago…Nov 28 2005, 11 PM IST

“You and your stupid conspiracy theories”, Pushpa was angry now. “I can’t believe that you followed me all the way from home till here to check on me. For the last time, I DO NOT HAVE ANY EXTRA MARITAL AFFAIRS…”

She was standing at the Samadhi, with a can of oil in her hands. She had been filling the lamp with oil when she had sensed someone behind her. Turning around, she had seen Raghu standing behind her.

Raghu’s suspicion of Pushpa’s alleged illicit affairs had been growing for sometime now. In the beginning, he used to scold her for talking to his friends. But soon, he started publicly humiliating her, and sometimes even hitting her in front of his friends. She had tolerated it quietly initially, but off late had been trying to defend herself.

“Shut up, you bitch!” Raghu slapped Pushpa hard. She slipped backwards, hitting the lamp, crashing on the floor. She lay motionless there.

Raghu looked around nervously. “Get up!” he kicked pushpa. No response. He knelt down beside her. She wasn’t breathing. He saw a pool of blood slowly spreading beneath her head. Her head had struck the lamp as she fell. She was dead!

Raghu scrambled around. “What do I do now?” He was thinking furiously. He saw the nearby jasmine creeper flowerbed. There was a shovel nearby. The resident gardener had forgotten it there. He picked it up and quickly started digging.

One hour later, Raghu was sweating profusely, inspite of the November cold. He dragged Pushpa’s body and dumped into the freshly dug-up ditch, and started filling it.

“People will think that this is part of the flowerbed…”, he thought to himself.

As he started leaving, he noticed that the lamp was lying on the ground and not burning anymore.

The lamp had been burning for more than fourty generations!

He replaced the lamp on the pedestal, and took out his matchbox to light the lamp...

The first time!

Bolshoi heard her voice before he saw her.

“I work in the evening shift nowadays – leaving home at 7 PM and coming back in the morning by around 6:30 AM…”

Her voice was low, but not quite husky. As if her vocal chords had decided to gingerly tread the border towards huskiness and then decided to stay on that border. It gave her voice a unique and intoxicating effect. And that accent…! Although it did not sound unnatural, it certainly sounded intriguing enough to make you pause and think about each and every sound that came out of her mouth.

Bolshoi had by now stepped off the elevator and into the corridor. He could see that the door of her apartment was open. The other end of the room had a balcony which was welcoming the fading evening sunshine into the apartment. The room itself was full of furniture and potted plants. And then he saw her!

She was leaning on the table and talking. Her arms were crossed in front of her, but not in a defensive way.

“Quite the cool lady!” Bolshoi thought to himself, as he walked into the apartment.

She did not look up at him as he walked in. Ignoring him, she continued talking – each of her sentences ending with a mild laugh. He noticed her laughter – it had a ringing tone to it. It was as if the sound wanted to come rushing out, but was stopped at the last moment, being promised to be set free at the end of the next sentence.

Bolshoi was nervous. This was his first time! All his life (well, at least since he crossed puberty!) he had been waiting for this day! He had spent several hours fantasizing about this occasion and planning out the details of each and every second. He had already memorized a thousand times the lines that he would say, the small talk that he would make and what he would do in this situation! But nothing had prepared him for this! He was too scared to even look up at her face.

Settling down into the sofa, he permitted himself to steal a glance at her! “Wow! She is more beautiful than her photographs…” he thought to himself.

She had long wavy hair, a delicate face, bright and big innocent eyes. And her lips…They looked delicious! She had full lips, rose colored, but without any hint of lipstick. He couldn’t take his eyes off her lips. Finally, with great difficulty, he allowed himself to look at the rest of her. She was slim, but not reed thin. And somehow, he found her cool and casual posture quite attractive.

Suddenly, Bolshoi realized that she was now looking at him.

“Awww..shucks…she has caught me staring at her!” He mentally cursed himself. She had a faintly amused expression on her lips, as if she was indulging a school boy who had a major crush on her.

“Why don’t you guys go into the next room?” Someone in the room asked. Bolshoi dumbly nodded.

She led the way, Bolshoi following her. He was nervous and suddenly had a very strong urge to run out of the apartment shrieking at the top of his voice. “I cannot do this!” He thought to himself. However, he saw himself silently following her into the room.

“Have a seat”, she told him – and sat down without waiting for him. He looked around and sat on the bed.

“Err…hmmm…Hi!” Bolshoi looked at her and smiled. He was feeling very shy and could feel that his cheeks were flushed.

“Hi!”, She replied back.

“So…tell me something about yourself!” Bolshoi replied. “What a lame opening line!” He thought to himself, “I sound like one of the HR interviewers breaking the ice with potential employees.”

“Oh…let me see…I am a very talkative girl, enjoy movies, enjoy having fun. The rest I have already told you in my e-mail to you. You tell me something about yourself.”

Bolshoi could not take his eyes off her – she was too damned attractive. He felt his lips moving and sounds coming out of his throat, but his brain was too focussed on looking at her. He did not even realize how long it had been since they entered the room. A quick and loud knock on the door brought him out of his reverie.

“I think we should go. They seem to be waiting”, She suggested. Again there was a hint of playfulness in her voice..."Do you really want to go?" She seemed to be asking him.

“Yes, lets do that…”, Bolshoi reluctantly got up.

Both of them got back into the main room. As they entered, the small conversations suddenly came to a stop, bringing an unnatural silence into the room. He went and sat near his mother and whispered into her ear – “She seems to be nice.” He didn't want to sound too enthusiastic with his mom. There were murmurs of approval from all directions.

He looked around and realized that she had gone and given a similar report to her parents.

Bolshoi’s mother smiled and told him - “I knew that you will like her.” Turning towards the others in the room, she said, “If you think it is OK, they can probably meet alone another time and get to know each other better. And oh! We would prefer the marriage to be conducted in the summer vacation time, as we have lots of relatives coming in from Kerala…”

Bolshoi could not stop thinking about her lips, her laughter and her voice - even as they got into the car and started driving towards back home!