SARAVAN weds INDU

2009-05-28T09:01:00.005+05:30

Dear Friend,

It's our wedding. Join us and share the joy as we celebrate a new life together.

Andal hall
(near welcome hotel)
#238, purasawalkam high road, chennai-007
Muhurtham : 14th June 2009 Sunday 6:00AM to 7:30AM
Reception: 13th June 2009 Saturday 6:30PM onwards
Ph: 9739842233

-Saravan and Indu

The Doctor

2007-12-22T16:05:00.000+05:30

The sugar factory that my father works for has a limited edition hospital. It was a makeshift arrangement that saw one of the 1bhk quarter’s flat turn into a medical centre (as the board suggests) serving the 1000 plus population of the village and its surroundings. This centre had 4 members on its payroll comprising a doctor and 3 staffs.

I was one of the frequent visitors to this place as falling ill was such a natural thing for me until something miraculously improved my immune power during my teen. It must have been some wild fruit and I was so careless not to make note of it. Frankly speaking, I was crazy about having some fairly big looking injuries on my body for I have seen such an injury dressed with band aid yielded some sympathy, extra respect and care at school and at home which was otherwise denied.

Most times I requested the staff to make the layer little thicker and broader but he refused citing that air flow is needed for a quicker cure. One of the staff nurses was very rude because her injections always required a follow up action, othalam. Also, i didn't like her rejecting my arm as a potential place for injection and asking me to strip my trousers when women around. A separate card (actually a book, they called it a card) was maintained for every visiting patient and my book had to replaced very often. My prescription became so obvious to me that I stopped visiting the doctor and visited the centre only to collect medicines. It always had 6 septran, 6 metacin, 6 avil, 6 tetracyclin, 3 pencilin injections and a bottle of cough syrup if I also demonstrated a cough in front of the doctor. I had asked my father many times why wouldn’t the doctor give me something bigger and better. There was a general opinion in the village that this doctor’s prescription works late and works less. He looked dull and walked tired always. His spoke very less to patients and his words didn't strongly assure anything for the visitor. The Doctor’s son was a good friend of mine and he gave very little respect to his father and so did the whole village. He showed little signs of becoming a doctor or for that matter even completing school. People made fun of the doctor most times and started visiting a nurse who had just opened up a clinic in the next village. Her prescription was considered good and working although it wasn’t for free. More than this, this doctor was chain smoker himself and I have seen him engaging with some people not of his stature. During my teens I came to know he takes supply of some banned substance from these guys. I even asked my father why wouldn’t the sugar factory authorities appoint a good new doctor.

I had this disrespect only until I heard from my father about his past. He hailed from the same village as my father and he was a topper at school. The doctor had gone to London to pursue his masters on scholarship and that’s when this unfortunate thing happened. His love that he found in London broke away after few years of living together and took the children away leaving the doctor in an unrecoverable situation. Returning to India and remarrying didn’t help him recover either .His love seems to have been so true and deep that he was never able to regain the lost life for as long as 30 years.. The other fact that my father told is, his prescription although slow, had never failed in the 30+ years that he has been serving the villagers, for a mere 4 digit salary. This is just one of many unfortunate and disturbing stories that I have heard. No matter what our merits are, how big our businesses are, few unfortunate scars let us down, really down.

Every soul has had some reason for the fall.

Poochi kaaran

2007-07-26T12:42:00.000+05:30

If I were to thank the people who made my 22 years of existence on this planet colorful, I’m stuck, clueless as to where to begin and where to end for there are numerous souls that contributed to my colorful existence, well being intentionally, knowingly, unknowingly, directly and indirectly. Overall I can just remember and thank everyone of them, sit back and believe my sincere thanks will reach them all in some way. While we get chances to thank parents, friends, teachers and the loved ones, what we ignore (at least in my opinion) is the following category of people whose business is a critical service to us.

“Iodine deficiency at critical stages during pregnancy and early childhood results in
Impaired development of the brain and consequently in impaired mental function.”

Assuming that my brain is all right and if the above statement is to be taken seriously then I must thank the salt supplier. He was big fat guy who came on a cycle with a gunny bag full of salt loaded on the carrier. I remember my granny used to keep me under her control by saying she will let the Gunny bag guy (ppochi kaaran) take me away whenever I refused to obey her orders. But yes, he supplied us with the salt that had sufficient iodine. If uppu is what determine’s ROSHAM then I have them in plenty too.

Then the milk man, grannys who supplied the greens and vegetables, and the guy who got delicious fishes alive and a lot more of them.

Be it that milk gova supplier, or soanpopadi supplier, Ethanai sandhosha thuligal?

Changing lives, big way or small,

Road not taken?

2007-07-09T16:39:00.001+05:30

Sakthivel’s wrinkle free uniforms were a matter of jealousy to me. We began being together when we began our high schooling. Sakthivel’s family lived just diagonal to our house. It began with our Moms exchanging uppu puli milagai and then the relationship grew thicker between the families. While my Mom filled in applications for them, sakthi’s mom gave us avarakkai plant seeds and helped us in maintaining, watering that little unorganized space which we liked to term “garden”. This place was big enough to accommodate wild life including millipede ( I guess this is morakottai, some ppl call it mara vattai), it’s cousin brother, the dangerous centipede, earthworms, and a wide variety of puzhu’s. Vettu kili was the wildest creature that I ever had to combat with. I learnt the english name for vettu killi when i saw on TV, the UN’s warning of locust invasion in India and Pakistan last week. Sakthivel’s father and mother were refuges from sri lanka and they worked in tea estates when in lanka. I built my dream lanka and trichy based on sakthi’s narrations. Sakthi was good at tamil, for he would read all the tough “seyyuls” with ease, while I needed more practice. His uncle was with the film industry as a villain and sakthi would play us the rented VCD of that Arjun film more often to show his uncle on screen. Be it bringing a bucket full of cow dung or the red soil, we accomplished the tasks together and the togetherness instilled fun in everything we did. He had sharp eyes for he would remove any tiny thorn on leg palms.

On most days, my sleep would be broken with sakthi’s loud reading of his texts rather than the dozen alarms that I set.We had had some joyous moments on the rails with 20 paise coins. The pungamaram near the tiruvalam railway station and the water tank area were our favorite spots. Reading kuruviyar’s badhil was our prime interest when at water tank. We began our cricketing career by carrying the kits wherever Velnagar-B went to play matches, and then slowly graduated as a substitute fielder, and then as last batsmen, before being promoted as opening batsmen for Velnagar Team C. We pedaled with four legs to climb the uneven javadu plateau to go as far as serkadu on the A.P border to participate in the tournaments. He scored a superb 80+% on his SSLC examinations. When pimples started to appear, we shared the turmoil times together, be it that one time experience of smoking thundu beedi, or that mango, sugarcane stealing from fields or watching captain’s Managara Kaaval in vinayaka during talkies. Sakthi fell for Rama. Rama was flamboyant. She fell for sakthi. While sakthi got carried away, rama got married away, as away as Tiruchi. After a brief break, sakthi was back on the grounds to open the innings again with me. But this brief break made a huge change in his life. I don’t have a third umpire’s view of what happened during this period. But I lost the sakthi that I used to open innings with.

I went on to pursue my studies in Bangalore. Meantime, a 80+% scorer in SSLC hadn’t managed to clear his HSC final exams and eventually had to join his father in that “helper” job at the sugar factory. Sakthi has reclaimed his charm and hasn’t lost his hairs like me, eats mom cooked home food, looks physically fit with no signs of obesity. More importantly works hard and parties hard. ‘sounded’ like he had got a good music system with all latest mp3 collection. His dresses are still wrinkle free, only for few minutes in the morning until he begins his work. He still opens the innings, but for Velnagar A.

At times I envy his COOL life.

2007-06-27T11:31:00.000+05:30

அடுத்த சில நாட்கள் எனக்கு பெங்களூர் சாலைகளில் பணி இருப்பதால், பதிவுகள் இருக்காது

என் blogaiyum ஒரு bloga மதிச்சு, இங்க வந்ததற்கு மகிழ்ச்சி..வந்தவங்கால வெறுங்கையோட அனுப்புரது தமிழன் பண்பாடு இல்லை..அதனால archive பக்கம் கொஞ்சம் பழைய பதிவுகள் இருக்கு. பாருங்க!!!

மொழி

2007-06-27T11:29:00.000+05:30

பண்டை காலத்தில், திராவிடர்களிடையே EGO problem இருந்திருக்கும் என்பது என் கருத்து காரணம், ஒரே சொல்லையே பொருள் மாற்றி உபயோகிப்பதையும், ஒன்றிரண்டு எழுத்துக்களை மட்டுமே மாற்றிவிட்டு அதை ஒரு புது தனி மொழி என்று , ஏதோ தனி கட்சி ஆரம்பித்த சந்தோஷ களிப்பில் மிதந்திருக்கிறார்கள். விளையாட்டு பிள்ளைகள்

கன்னடா நண்பன் ஒருவனிடம், விஜய் நடித்த சிறந்த படங்களில் துள்ளாத மனமும் துள்ளும் ஒன்று என்றேன்,
behave yourself என்றான்..

மாலயால நண்பணிடம், இன்னும் தூறுதா? என்றேன்
போடா பட்டி என்றான்..

தெலுகு நண்பன் ஒருவன் பேசிக்கொண்டிருக்கும் போதே.."காதா" என்று கேலி செய்துவிட்டான்.. போடா "மூக்கா" என்று சொல்லிவிட்டேன். தமிழ்ந்னா சும்மாவா,

உண்மையில், இது ஒரு க்லாஸ்ஸிக் EGO பிரச்னை..தமிழில் ஒரு பொருளை குறிக்கும் "துள்ளு" கண்னடத்தில் கண்டதையும் குறிக்கிறாதம்.

Inherit பண்னும்போது, copyright பிரச்சனைகள் வராமல் இருக்க அங்கொன்றும் இங்கொன்றுமா alter பண்ணி விட்டார்களோ? இருக்கலாம்.

அக்கறை

2007-06-27T10:20:00.000+05:30

தினம்தோரும் பெண்களால், ஆண்கள் சாலையில் சந்திக்கும் சவால்கள் தான் எத்தனை ஹோண்டா நிறுவனம் Activa வண்டியை launch செய்தபின் சவால்கள் அதிகரித்து உள்ளன என்று தான் சொல்ல வேண்டும் Pulsar போன்ற வண்டிகளில் gear இருப்பதையே கேள்வி கேட்டுவிட்டு செல்லும் அளவுக்கு திறன் படைத்ததாய் உள்ளது இந்த Activa வண்டி என் போன்ற ரோஷக்ாரர்கள், ஒன்றின் மேல் ஒன்றாக gear போட்டு accelerate செய்து முடிப்பதற்குள் activa சிட்டுக்குருவிகள் அடுத்த சிக்நலை அடைந்துவிடுகின்றன, ஒரு முறை audugodi சாலையில் இருந்து துவங்கிய race trinity circle வரை நீடிக்க, ஆலுவலகம் செல்லும் வழியை ஒரு கிலோமீட்டருக்கு முன்பே தவறி விட்டதை உணர்ந்து ஜகா வாங்கி கொண்டு சென்றது கொடுமை என்றால், மீட்டிங் கு தாமதமாக சென்று மேலாளரிடம் தாறு மாறாக தித்து வாங்கியது அதை விட கொடுமை

மற்றொரு நாள், கோரமங்களா செக்க் போஸ்ட் வழியாக, வந்துகொண்டிருக்க ஒரு tvs ஸ்கூடி துரத்துவது போல் பிரம்மை. ஒரு tvs ஸ்கூடி துரத்தும் அளவுக்கு கேவலாமகி விட்டதா பூல்சார், இந்த விஷயம் அனைத்து இந்திய பூல்சார் உரிமாயாளர்கள் சங்கத்துக்கு தெரிந்தால் என் கௌரவம் என்ன ஆவது. விட மாட்டேன்..போடு கீர்ரை,. தாண்டு சிக்நலை.. என்னுடைய போதாத நேரம், என் வண்டி TN 23. சிக்னள்களில் மறைவாக தான் நிற்க வேண்டும் இல்லை எனில் மாமாவுக்கு கப்பம் கட்டிவிட்டு வீக்கெண்ட் பார்டி ஐ தியாகம் செய்ய வேண்டி இருக்கும். (போலீஸ் மாமாக்ள் துன்புறுத்திய கதையை பழைய பதிவுகளில் போதுமான அளவுக்கு அலசிவிட்டதால் அடுத்து துன்புறுதலான tvs ஸ்கூடி யை பார்ப்போம்), TVS ஸ்கூடி நெருங்கி நெருங்கி வர எனது பூல்சரை செலுத்தினேன் வேகமாக, மேலும் மேலும். என் வெற்றிக்கு தடையாக வந்தது சாகர் அப்பொல்லோ சந்திப்பு. அருகில் நின்றது TVS ஸ்கூடி, அதே ஸ்கூடி. யாரோ அழைப்பது போல் இருந்தது சிட்டோ? மானங்கெட்டவனே, உனக்கெல்லாம் எதுக்கு ஒரு bike க்ணு சொல்லிடுவாளோ, திரும்பாதே என்றது மனம். அவள் என் முகத்தின் முன் கை அசைத்து ஏதோ சொல்ல முற்பட்டால். இதற்கு மேலும் முதுகை கான்பிப்பது ஒரு TN registered வண்டிக்கு அழகு இல்லை என்பதால், அவளுக்கு செவி சாய்த்தேன்.

Tie your shoe lace, its dangerous to ride with lace untied என்றாள்..ஆச்சரியத்தில் என் காதுகள் அதைத்துகொண்டன கண்கள் படபடாத்தன அதிர்ச்சியில் இருந்து மீண்டு அவளுக்கு Thank u சொல்ல வந்தபோது, தொண்டை தடையாக நின்று சொதப்பி விட்டது

Ive been trying to tell you this since check post, u never stopped னு சொல்லிவிட்டு சிட்டு சட்டென்று பறந்து விட்டது பெங்களூரில் மழை கோட்டோ கொட்டுஎன்ரு கொட்ட பல காரணங்களில் இது போன்ற பெண்களின் பங்களிப்பு இருப்பதாக நான் நம்புகிறேன்.. வாழ்க அந்த பெயர் தெரியாத பெண், வாழ்க பெங்களூர்

என் quillpad beta வில் இருப்பதால் எழுத்து பிழைகளை மன்னிக்கவும்

தமிழ்ல போஸ்ட் போட்டாச்சுப்பா

Blessing in Disguise...

2007-06-15T17:32:00.000+05:30

Picture source: Unknown..came with kerala package..

My relocation to pune has some other purpose than just work. Everything happens for a reason! If my wish was to chase monsoon, I’m doing exactly that. Pune is gorgeous now with rains everyday. Idhu puriyama polambittu irundhiruken. Mazhai vandha manda kaaira vellore kooda thalaiku kulicha pen pola azhaga maaridum. Western ghats sollava venum? evlo azhagu!

btw, i had forgotten some rain fundamentals, a brush up here...(source: Wiki)

Mazhai megangal eppadi form agum?

"Orographic rain (or Relief Rain) is caused when the warm moisture laden wind blowing in to the land from the sea encounters a natural barrier like mountains. This forces the wind to rise. With gain in altitude, the air expands dynamically due to a decrease in air pressure. Due to this the wind experiences a decrease in temperature (per Gas Laws), which results in the increase of the relative humidity. This causes condensation of water vapor into water droplets to form clouds. The relative humidity continues to increase until the dew point reaches the level of condensation, causing air to be saturated. This height where the condensation occurs is called the level of condensation. When the clouds becomes too heavy to be suspended, rain falls.
As the wind descends on the leeward side of the mountain range, it becomes compressed and warm; which results in the further decrease of the relative humidity of the wind, which is already dry after precipitating its moisture on the windward side of the mountain. Hence the leeward side of the mountain do not receive any rain from these winds and its called the Rain Shadow region of the mountain.
Indian Ocean Monsoon is the best example of Orographic Rain. About 80% of the rain that occurs in the India [citation needed] is of this category."

"The southwestern summer monsoons occur from June through September. The Great Indian Desert (Thar Desert) and adjoining areas of the northern and central Indian Subcontinent heats up too much during the hot seasons of summer. This causes a low pressure area over the northern and central Indian subcontinent. To fill up this void, the moisture-laden winds from the Indian Ocean rush in to the subcontinent. These winds, rich in moisture, are drawn towards the Himalayas, creating winds blowing storm clouds towards the subcontinent. However the Himalayas act like a high wall and do not allow the winds to pass into Central Asia, forcing them to rise. With the gain in altitude of the clouds, the temperature drops and precipitation occurs
During the monsoon season between June and September, the unbroken Western Ghats chain acts as a barrier to the moisture laden clouds. The heavy, eastward-moving rain-bearing clouds are forced to rise and in the process deposit most of their rain on the windward side”

Ok now a question to my fellow bloggers..

Is there a male-counter word for “Vaayadi”, Vaayadan?

Happy Monsoon Weekend...

Obsessed with Sivaji..

2007-06-13T17:12:00.000+05:30

No posts until i recover...

From the school...

2007-06-05T15:09:00.000+05:30

It was such a delight to sit in the 3rd row of class 9c and listen to my history sir talk about world wars first thing in the morning. These were glorious days that I will relish thru my life. He had such passion towards history and so did I. That’s when I hard coded Hitler and Mussolini as ‘bad guys’ and promoted Russia as my buddy dumping US. Apart from the lessons my history sir would delight us with whatever extra information he has on the subject. I believed in all except this one, when he said that light lit Mysore palace would be visible from Doddabetta peak on dussera days. I didn’t miss to verify the authenticity of this piece of information when I was in ooty last summer. Those lessons usually occupied my thoughts for the rest of the day; I loved it. I would go home with a dozen more questions that my dad would happily clarify just before sleep. What a way to end a day..it is only disheartening when I realize those are things of the past now.

Measuring Sundar’s hair length was another thing that excited me and my friends. I remember, his hairs used to be of length 11cm, much longer that what swetha cordelia had. Swetha’s father taught science at a college in vellore and she was naturally good at science. Oh..Did I tell that Satish (black shoe) guy hailed from the same place as sundar? Swetha was a good friend of Swathi. Swathi’s dad owned a poultry farm in a village near AP border. Revathy’s dad worked for BHEL and he hung up all the calls from boys. Praveen’s dad was the village administrative officer for my village and I had met him while collecting govt sponsored free saree-dhotis during pongal. But Srinath, although was a Brahmin, ate chicken kabab. Aravindh was crazy about computer games, Arun Joseph for wrestling. Chemistry madam came all the way from jolarpet to teach us. If she didn’t make it for the class in first 5 minutes, we take it for granted she had missed the jolarpet train. Janani was a good friend of mine and I go to her father for filling my cavities. I referred my mom to go there too. Evenings, we were predominantly preoccupied with tasks like buying bajji bonda for the staffs, pushing math’s sir TVS 50 until it starts for he used to run it on kerosene. Prabhu shankar’s dad owned a big provision shop in katpadi but I was sad that he never got us anything from his shop. I used to fight with Raghu until he opened his shirt buttons to show the stitches to prove that he was operated. David’s mom made nice biriyanis. She still makes it for me. Prasath’s sister was spying our gang and our activities and was constantly reporting it to her father, a party man.

One punishment that I wanted to avoid is that of physics’s madam’s for she will put her hand under our arm pit, and twist with her nails until she hears a loud scream. The one that I loved was that of my botany madam’s for she tied the ties of a boy and girl together and made them stand together. I was lucky on few days and enjoyed this one. I liked the idea of photosynthesis and that experiment on blossom plant using the colored water. I also liked the way how neurons looked, easy to draw too. I always carried my mom’s bangles to draw tomato, kidneys and numerous other lobes that formed our body. English mam was very immune and she never took leaves. Monsoons were moderate. River palar never flooded, bandhs were rare. None of my relatives built new houses, neither got married.

Ok..now what else do I remember?

My friend keerthivasan wanted to find out 8th A sinduja’s phone number. I got her ‘initial’ from attendance register and manoj got the yellow pages. Manoj knew kannada and he also knew that she speaks kannada at home. What manoj lacked was the courage to speak. I took the phone and said “ Sinduja idhala?” and the response was “Idhaale, ondhu nimsha”…That week, we celebrated watching all 17+ star movies rated movies.

Punishment...

2007-06-01T09:55:00.000+05:30

This was the worst punishment that I had to serve in my school days. It was in my Trouser days. Trousers were the ones that covered till the knees. Pants were the ones that covered till toes. I was asked to kneel down by my master. I had to kneel down on the stage, facing headmistress’s room. The whole school passed by me after disbursing from the morning assembly. 7th C yagnapriya, 7th B revathy, 7th A sowmya, sinduja, ramya, anitha and ranjani, the 7 wonders of my school in my opinion, also looked at me kneeling down, or at least I thought they did. All through the year, I dressed neat, combed my hair from time to time, invested time in front of the mirrors all to impress at least one of the 7 wonders. It was the most miserable day in my school life. The botany Madam who always gave me full marks for my ‘not so good’ diagrams, the history sir who had an impression that I’m a good student, the Tamil sir who didn’t like me speaking to janani, all gave me a weird look that morning. My reputation was in question. Some of my class girls were whispering to each other pointing at me when I went to the class after serving my term. My tamil teacher threw my exam answer sheets on my face although my score was a moderate 72. I felt low the whole day and I decided not to do that mistake again. Never again…and the reason for punishment, I overstepped and stepped on Satish’s kiwi polished black shoes while walking down to the assembly. He lost the sheen on the shoes, and then went and complained to my P.T master.

I can scribble too..

2007-05-16T15:05:00.000+05:30

Blog'gugal palavidham. Ovondrum oru vidham.

It’s been 2 months since I moved to Pune and all is not going well for me. When in Bangalore, I used to crib about the traffic, pollution, congestion and debated a lot on “need for a change”. I now realize “This karaiku that karai pachai”. For me, Bangalore is heaven.... But then, I thought of those migratory tamilians of last century who migrated to places like singapore, malaysia, nepal and even as far as Tobago and Trinidad. Although the reason for was migration varied, they managed to live on those foreign lands. And for those who are curious about tamils migration, this link may serve some purpose..

http://www.tamilnation.org/diaspora/articles/guilmoto.htm

Ok..now why do I feel this way? Because I miss those little little things which I think brings in enormous happiness to me. My day is incomplete without a Daily thanthi, vadivel comedy clips on ktv, Anandha vikatan, Tamil movie posters with ma favorite heroines on them(let alone tamil movies), sights of Tamizh Naadu arasu perundhu, Idli vadai saambhar, temple gopurams, namma oor painkiligal (not to be split and read as PAIN n KILIGAL) , ads of chennai silks, saravana selvarathinam jewellary, 8 o clock sun news-not for the news though, but for the high pitch introduction music clip, and so on.

Ayiram than "inflight entertainment" vandhaalum, thagara duppa TNSTC busla, oru seat full occupy pannitu pora sugam varuma?

Actually I’m lying. The fact is simple, I love Bangalore.i felt this is the safest, coolest and kindest city that a tamilian can find on non tamilian land. With hometowns reachable in “overnight” bus travel distances, and with access to the small little things that I mentioned earlier, Bangalore really suits well.

The other thing I started to crib about is the increasing nature of redundancy at my work place. Now, what can I think of, to keep myself motivated? I can think of my Father who has been writing hundreds of bank cheques everyday since 35 years as part of his work, I can think of my aunt who has been stamping thousands of letters at the post office everyday since 30 years or I can think of my other aunt who has been measuring the body temperature of hundreds of patients’ everyday since 40 solid years. Now, isn’t that redundant? What kept them going for decades is missing in me?

I’m not a ‘natural” computer engineer. I acted well to create a false impression for the recruiter to believe that I love computers and I’m hard core geek n stuff. I’m continuing to act so.

What I really wanted to do is to chase the monsoon, earth worm, dead kings and kingdoms, less traveled roads and the lesser known hills, rivers and its tributaries, …chase everything I feel like going after…and then meet people, make friends, read blogs. Is there anybody who can pay me for doing nothing, just chasing? Huh…I’m greedy for I don’t want to miss the benefits of globalization, the booming economy, soaring sensex, the multiplexes, retail outlets, and still want to chase rivers. Striking balance could be the key?

The Belief...

2007-05-08T19:20:00.000+05:30

Cauvery-Coorg

2007-05-08T19:00:00.000+05:30

The tamil connection

2007-05-08T18:58:00.000+05:30

Train in Rain

2007-05-08T10:27:00.000+05:30

Ooty

Wayanad-Kerala

2007-05-02T18:53:00.000+05:30

Virajpet-Karnataka

2007-05-02T18:44:00.000+05:30

Komali
kaatchi pizhai?
rythm

Kodanad-OOTY

2007-05-02T18:15:00.000+05:30

Trust me, There is so much to see in OOTY.

And, TN tourism is very friendly
My advice, Take some fresh tea while on a trek.

Glenmorgan, OOTY

2007-05-02T17:56:00.000+05:30

Glenmorgan power unit-OOTY
Uncle Henry, Glenmorgan-OOTY

Glenmorgan lake-OOTY

The PhotoGraPhER iN mE

2007-04-27T10:27:00.000+05:30

The BOSS--Gudalur-OOTY
Pykara-OOTY Coonoor-OOTY
Coonoor-OOTY

Camera: Borrowed Japanese camera (Courtesy: Sujith). I have no clue on the technical specs, resolution etc.

My Space

2007-04-24T17:52:00.000+05:30

3x6 ft on the top layer of the double layered cot, a samsung monitor box dumped with books, a PIII based computer, a VIP suitcase, and a big-shop bag that carried the details of a marriage (Manamagan, Manamagal, Idam, thedhi etc.,) that took place in Thirupathur. This was all the space that I was entitled for, when in college hostel.

Later, when 15 of us rented a 3BHK house at Bannerghatta road, I was entitled for 1/5th of one of the bed rooms 1/5th of the bath room and 1/15th of the kitchen and living room legally. At office, I was entitled for an approximate 5x5 of cube space.

Apart from this, I own negligible space on the internet including this blog and a little space on few hearts.

It took 3 years of earning for me to begin owning 1150 sq.ft of carpet area with an “undivided share” of around 250 sq.ft in the form of a 2BHK flat at one of the corners of the so called Silicon Valley of India, Bangalore, Marathalli. It’s going to take 20 more years of EMI paying for me to complete owning this space on earth.

All that i care for now, I have space to really stretch my legs and sleep tight whole night...

The Blue & White Angel

2007-04-24T17:04:00.000+05:30

Travelling on Shatabti was on my wish list ever since I saw the train on the rails near my house at Vellore. This must be a Blue -White Angel I imagined. At occasions,I have seen this train cruising past the other maroon colored trains stationed at Katpadi junction. This train was a point to point train then and was always given preference, like that of a politician on road. It was my maiden journey on the Chennai- Bangalore Shatabti express. As usual I was at least 45 minutes early for the train. I spent those extra minutes in evaluating the worthiness of Rupees 405 spent on the ticket. The train interiors were pretty decent, clean n tidy. Toilets and wash rooms were “Inviting”. My Co-passengers were all well dressed for I felt like sitting among the Elites. Incidentally, I didn’t find much youth population on the train. The average age of the passengers could well have been 35.

“Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen” I heard. “What a way to start the journey” I thought to myself and turned around to see who’s greeting us and found none. I then noticed the speakers above the entry/exit door. He wasn’t the captain of the train for sure, he was something else but I forgot his designation at the train. He addressed himself first, and then went on to say the details of the journey including the distance, the speed at which the train would be traveling and the stations that it would stop at. I was delighted to be frank. Now the Angel started to move and the speakers geared up to play some pleasant instrumental music. I was surprised even more when I was given with free coffee, biscuits, mineral water bottle and Hindu News paper that matched the privilges of a domestic budget Airline. The windows were Air-tight that i couldn't even hear the "Tu tuk tu tuk" typical Indian train’s rhythm.

A Grand ma who didn’t like her husband lying to her, a coffee crazy kid, an uncle who worked for Indian Embassy in Washington D.C, who had to take special permission from the authorities to perform fire oriented Hindu rituals during his daughter’s marriage in Washington and a 53 year old grand pa who had just retired from the post of union leader in the state of Florida, who also felt the forests around kabini reservoir around mysore are as beautiful as the amazon rain forests, if not more, were some of my neighbors at the train that my memory likes to keep record of.

It was the sports page of hindu and the driver came on line again to announce that we had arrived Katpadi junction. Cherish’able 3 hours spent on wheels, I felt.

Kid's kids

2007-03-24T11:32:00.000+05:30

I don’t remember the exact age that I was in but it was an age in which I believed tying a knot alone would make women give birth and no more effort was needed. I was just beginning to learn how hydra and amoeba were reproducing.

Meenakshi lived in the same street as mine and we went to the same class at the sugar mill school. We would step out of our houses almost the same time to leave to school and that’s how we got to meet each other. It was a mere coincidence and no modus operandi was involved. Although I had a wish to walk with her, I never disclosed or even expressed my intentions. For a day or 2 we walked within distances of our shadows’s radius. I was very afraid to see her face in such a shorter distance but at school I kept her within my radar’s reach.

Meena was bold enough to talk to me first and express her interest to join me on that long walk to school. Her face was always bright as the morning sun, with tons of turmeric powder on it. On Non turmeric days, her face was as clear as mid day sky. Every time she was around, my hormones resumed their duties and drove my heart beat mad. The horizontal width between us converged and further converged, ending in our back packs kissing each other. For your information, my back pack was at least twice wider than what I was. There were at least a dozen eyes in my school that couldn’t believe or digest the fact that this pretty girl walks with me daily.

I cared only for her beauty while she cared for my safety while on road, for she will pull me off the road whenever I walked mad in front of the sugarcane loaded Lorries. In return, I attempted to impress her in every given/seized opportunity. I voluntarily signed up for shopping assignments with my Momy, so that I could take the cycle and demonstrate my skills before her while crossing her house. After practicing hands free riding for a while, I attempted it right in front of her house only to loose balance and crush the water cans that was around the bore well. I was lucky enough to escape that day without being noticed by any human being.

I always had doubts on my homework that needed a clarification with Meena. I put in a lot of thoughts to make my doubts appear realistic because only if my Momy doesn’t have an answer she will let me go to Meena’s house for clarification.

That fine day I was playing with my friends when my Momy called me in the middle of the game. Meena’s mom was in my house speaking to my Momy about some sarees and stuffs. I was asked to stay at home for the rest of the day so that they could go out. When they returned in the evening I noticed Meena’s house getting ready for something big and special. I asked my Momy what’s that matter and she asked me to shut up and resume my game. I then went to the ground and asked my friends out there and they said “Meena age attend pannittaa”. This made no sense to me and my friends didn’t provide me more details either. I came back and asked my Momy about “Age attend panitta” and she said “Adhu periyavanga vishayam, none of ur business” and she kept on asking my friends name who revealed that matter to me. I guarded my source and never told his name.

That event was followed by Annual exam holidays and I spent my holidays with my grannie at Arcot. When I came back to school for the next grade, Meena wasn’t accompanying me for the school. Six months past and it was half yearly exams. Meena’s house was getting ready for yet another big and special event. It was Meena’s marriage and she was 13 years old then. I at least knew that girls don’t come to school after marriage. Meena still lives in the same village and she takes her children to the same school where she went.

Last Day

2007-03-10T09:46:00.000+05:30

After scoring a modest total in my class 10, I chose to study science in my higher secondary school. Most of my class 10 friends continued in the same school as mine but were put on to different sections. I was not completely engaged with my 11th classes for two more reasons, the first one being the very education system which let "robotic" girls mug everything up, write neatly and score great marks leaving the creative and realistic boys behind and the second one was my family situation. I was in a way afraid of the bloody battle with the girls. For the first time in my school's history girls outnumbered boys in the science section and 90% of them had scored more marks than mine in their class 10.

With girls all around answering every single question from physics and solving every single math problem that the teacher wanted us to, I felt harassed and discriminated. I was like a student on double promotion trying to catch up. This is no kidding OK, girls do have an edge over the boys at school with most male staffs. In return girls may argue that female teachers favor boys, Call that a crap. Female teachers too like the fat, spectacle wearing spectacular girls who write bold and big as against the ENVIRONMENT CONSCIOUS paper CONSERVATIVE boys. We do..Don't we? If the boys don't conserve paper, where the hell girls get papers from? We keep it short n sweet and then the teachers call us an "AVERAGE" student. Crazy teachers!!! Boys are socially responsible. One of my classmate even wrote down a movie song in his answer sheet with an intention to entertain the teacher while in the middle of the hectic paper correction exercise, not that he didn't know the answers :(.

It was zoology class after the lunch break. We had some unit test and to be precise it was a test on frogs, the YUCKest creatures on the earth. I hate it’s skin color, texture and the moisture especially when it occupies my toilet when in need. The most merciless existent creature I have ever seen. After completing it's head, limbs n back trunk, I was drawing frog's ass (anal, to be zoological) on a white paper trying to get that shape that could impress or at least convince my teacher but in vain. The eraser had already shrunk to a size that of a groundnut by then.

The "office boy" at school entered the class and called out my name. He then told me that I have a call from my dad. While walking downstairs I was a little afraid because my father wouldn't call me unless it's a serious/urgent thing. My Grand father was ill, My Chithi was expecting a baby and I was awaiting my technical college entrance examination results. The first two things could get me one day leave from the school but the last one could get me out of school for ever. I picked up the call to hear that glad news of my admission to the technical college in Bangalore.

I left frog's ass in the position it was, packed up my bag and bid good bye only to my closest friends and left the school that afternoon. That was my LAST DAY at school. Not a good way to leave school but as always I realized it late.

I have had few more LAST DAYs both bitter and better ones and I'm getting ready for one more coming FRIDAY.

But PUNE, the city I'll potentially be relocating to is in the NEWS for all the wrong reasons.

Good Bye Bangalore!!!

2007-02-09T09:58:00.000+05:30

It was August the 14th 2000. With south west monsoon still active with a couple of low pressure troughs on the Arabian sea, Bangalore was witnessing heavy rains through the day. That was my maiden journey outside of Tamil nadu. I once had crossed the "Welcome to Andhra Pradesh" milestone which is roughly 7 km from my village but that wasn't convincing enough for me to call that as a journey to an other Indian state. I slept through my journey because until then I had never been awake in the nights, even when my grand pa's died.

My dad had the responsibility of taking me to the undergrad admission interview call on time and so he stayed awake all night enquiring "how to get to electronics city"?. Our interstate bus promptly dropped us at electronics city and at 3 in the morning this place looked already awake. We didn't have to enquire more about the college, because it was right there in front of us, yes, it's the first campus in electronics city. We walked in the security room and the guards there suggested us to sleep for a while in the 6ft by 6ft security room. We were given with old copies of daily news papers to be used as mat. I unfolded them and slept on them. When my dad woke me up at 5:30 I had two shawls protecting me from Bangalore’s cruel coldly morning. It was august the 15th. India woke up to freedom and peace on the same day some years ago and so did I that day.

This dream city had accommodated me for close to 7 years now. It has been a period of growth, conflicts, sufferings, loneliness, togetherness, sorrrow , joy, betrayals, promotions and emotions. I could very well say that this place is my second hometown, so dear to heart. The college days were very usual. But the After college life is what I enjoyed the most. Sounds reverse? Yup Yup. It gave me room and time to go do things that I had earlier deferred during my studious penny-less college days. Courtesy: my dream job in my dream company.

The extra nourished gulmohar trees, the dull, chilly and cloudy mornings, the multiplexes, the road side dhabhas, the retail outlets, "Look at me" kinda girls….huh the list goes on. I must thank the cloudy mornings for facilitating my early morning dreams by preventing the sun from destroying it. What a set of Dreams!!!. Dreams that had rare or no interruption. Neither the sun, nor the milkman killed my dreams. Every dream took its complete course and stayed there till my imagination ran out of fuel. Bangalore had provided me with countless such cherishable morning dreams. Some productive ones, some re-productive ones and some unclassifiable!

It was in Bangalore I first experienced the so called FINANCIAL FREEDOM and in my opinion it feels so good to be financially independent. The weekend getaways, the big brands, the blackberry people, the Cosmo politic society and the sizzling showrooms all make this place adorable.

It's true. There is no place like Bangalore.

It's been a good long stay and the city has grown both, in its latitude and longitude.

I thank the people, I thank the place, I thank the trees and clouds.
I had to leave this dream city for my own Good.
Good Bye Bangalore!

Po(i)nting at Sachin

2006-11-01T18:53:00.000+05:30

Whenever I look for pointers to build my post upon, travel and the events surrounding my travel always tops the list. Back again with a travelogue.

It was the usual Route Number 444 bus that shuttles between vellore and bangalore restless. I was on my way to vellore. This time my travel was even more pleasant for there was no neighbor, let alone "colonial neighbors". The nearest next seat was occupied a wise grand pa whose age I decided to be 70+. He had shining silver hairs all around and I was reminded of the Bheeshmar who appeared in Doordarshan's Mahabharatha. I presumed him to be very wise from his appearance. My front seater, grandpa's grandson was holding hindu's first page that had a picture of Ricky ponting arguing to sachin. I could have deferred any other news but not this and especially, I was curious to know what that "not so humble but yet most successful ponting" would have told to "humble as well successful sachin". I was less successful in peeping into the hindu's front page from behind. I went on to read the tamil magazine that I had just bought.

Few minutes after that attempt, I was given with the hindu's front page. Surprised at this I turned aside to see who is offering me what I wanted. It was that wise grand pa..He said "I could sense you were wanting to read that cricket news, Go ahead".

I quickly glanced thru it and then thanked the grand pa from my heart. Chances to thank from the heart are rare these days, at least to me.

"Thanks" was followed by a conversation with the grand pa that I would cherish all time. He asked me if I'm heading to Chennai, I replied him with where I'm actually heading to. while exchanging questions with him, I had to disclose my profession to the grand pa and he replied " I rarely see computer engineers reading tamil magazines". `He suggested me a couple of novels, short stories. While our fruitful conversation was on, there came an interrupt in the form of two ladies, AGAIN. I had to change my seat so the two ladies could form a "ladies only" seat.

It was ambur with one more hour of my journey in pending. There came another silver headed grand pa. He was a Muslim grand pa. For a moment I felt aged and elderly, for I was amidst grand pas' left and right. I sensed this muslim grand pa was attempting to ask me something but he just kept postponing it. At last it appeared like he gathered all the courage and asked me "Are you a MUSLIM?". I took 2 seconds to ask myself "Do I look like a MUSLIM?"..and then to remind me of an similar instance where somebody asked me if I'm a MALAYALI? and then replied him "I'm not"…His face shrunk for that wrong identification and he displayed me a sign of regret. He held my hands and shook it and said "Don't mistake me, I simply asked you"". I hope he is not from SIMI, Laskar e Toiba etc., recruiting people from India for the co called JEHADI operations.

And at home...

Festivals are my chances to rejuvenate the otherwise dyeing taste buds. I will strive hard to be at home during festivals for I would be entitled for nothing less than 20 items served on a plantain leaf.

That aside. Suddenly I was reminded of Gods, and the billion dollar but old questions like Who is God?/Who are Gods? Who created Gods?

Hindu Gods mostly look very human, friendly, although differing from portrait to portrait, they appear smart most of the times unless the artist worked in a hurry. Do they really have parents, brothers, sisters and cousins as portrayed in Hindu religion? Where do they all live in? An Apartment/Villa/Pent house?

They must be using very powerful computers if they were to really track everyone's sin and decide his/her/it's life span and destination. Have they outsourced their computing needs to the computer service providers, Wipro? TCS? Or still managing it with just one guy Chithra Guptan? Where do they source all the gold/diamond ornaments from? Nakshatra? Jeyachandran gold house? Huh!!!

Another eye catchy thing!!! They all have good looooooooooong hairs, be it Male God, female God. What could be the secret? Dr.Batra's in the neighborhood? Garnier fructis? Meera Herbal? Huh again!!!

Mind Boggling Isn't it?

Ok…here I stop…I wrote this one after a real loooong gap…courtesy Kannada rajhotsava.

Payanangal

2006-07-12T10:21:00.000+05:30

Rain bearing clouds, paddy fields, Ayyanar statues, school going kids, my hometown milestones, colorful kumudham, cotton mills, corn sellers, my playlist on the ears and a window seat to enjoy them all. This is my checklist for a pleasant journey. I had always wanted to have a girl by my side while traveling but in vain. Ok...Dreams aside.

I have also had painful journeys because of 'very colonial neighbors' who will constantly expand their boundary and enter into my territory squeezing me to the corners of the seat. Once I was in my 4th bus letting away 3 buses because they couldn't offer me a window seat. Two Muslim women came to me and said "ladies vukkaranum, Neenga andha seatla vukaarungalen". I had no option than to leave this bus and take the 5th. I wouldn't agree if you are going to call this "sheer stupidity". Window seat is like golden boot for me.

I rarely initiate conversations with my neighbors but I tend to respond well. With a wish to break my "initiation jinx" I attempted a couple of times to start a conversation with my neighbors only to hear "yes, no, yes yes, no no yes" from them. Once, I responded to a SAP consultant well (not because he was a SAP consultant) and the talk went on well for over 2 hours. We covered Bangalore's crumbling infrastructure to Chennai's humidity to NTTF to Cauvery to Trichy to Colombo to SAP to Microsoft, and again back to to Bangalore because we had reached Bangalore by then.

Last weekend I was on my return journey from Vellore. As usual I was on to my play list for first two hours, and then I had to wind up coz my music device ran out of battery. My immediate neighbor was a Brahmin uncle ageing 45 and my next neighbor was a granny ageing 70+. Granny first offered me pop corns, and then offered a question "Kanna, Bangalorela enna pa panra?". I had to disclose my profession to her. Now the Brahmin uncle pitched in with "Thaduki vizhunda computer engineers than Bangalorela!". Uncle picked up the frequency from there. We spoke and spoke for the rest 3 hours of the journey.

Our conversation included debates, advices, suggestions, opinions etc. I asked him "whats ur opinion on bangalore?" and he replied " I'm not able to live well here, this culture is strange and alarming to me" he said. "People pay 600 rupees for a rupees 60 worth t-shirt and call it branded product, they might earn in thousands and lacks, but does that mean?" he continued. That statement blew hard on my face coz I was wearing one such branded t-shirt costing around the same price that he mentioned. He continued "For the first time ever I saw a guy drinking fresh fruit juice with puffs in between". That's a strange combination I felt. "People conduct business without ethics" he blamed. I had to agree with his point because I know a little about how the conglomerates do business and become big.

He asked me the difference between Intel and AMD processors. I told him the truth. Truth till date, Truth as on July 12 06. I had to explain him concepts like hyperthreading, throttling, multitasking using simple, real life analogies. He seemed to have understood, coz he seemed excited and asked further questions unlike some of my RDBMS classes at college. He suggested me some books ranging from "Who will cry when you die" to "Vedic mathematics". Mathematics??? "No Thanks" I said to myself. This conversation cant be complete if it didn't cover politics. He praised a lot about the previous BJP government and put down the current government. You shall guess the reason.It was my turn to ask him "what are you?". He declared "I'm a 9th class school dropout".

He was asking me about how the IT companies recognize education thru correspondence. When I replied him with a 'disappointing' answer he defended the whole "studying thru correspondence" community. Guess was right, and he was doing MCA in correspondence and he was also keen to learn Tally at 45. Time to get down and Granny said "poittu varen da kanna". Uncle followed and said "Nice meeting u Saravanan, you are one of my best bus friends".

May be I shouldn't have locked my ears with headphones for the first 2 hours.

This Vs That

2006-07-09T07:21:00.000+05:30

Throughout the FIFA world cup season, I had to blindly choose and support one of the two teams that met for the day. The reason is I didn't have prior knowledge of the competing teams. I have encountered similar situations often and so would have others. It was a match between Germany and Argentina. I had to choose one and support them for the rest of the match. Hitler, BMW, Benz, Frankfurt were some of the things that came up when I thought of Germany. Hitler was rude and I decided not to favor Germany. When France played, I favored them coz I heard the guys were all old and they might probably be playing their last world cup. I wanted them to retire with pride in style. Beckham was looking smart, and played precise and that I chose to support England during their matches.

There were instances where I had to ditch some thing in favor of another for the appearance, feel, etc.,

I didn't like Hero cycles, khaitan fans, Andy Roddick, Hewitt, Srilankan cricket team, TVS bikes, TATA engines and many more for no reason or for some blind reason. I still continue to hate a couple of them.

Last week, I read in a news paper that the owner of "Regal" sottu neelam committed suicide for business loss reasons.

I had always favored Robin Blue over Regal for some blind reason during my school days.

Somebody's decision somewhere is going to hurt somebody else somewhere else...

Mid Night Mid Sea

2006-07-08T12:12:00.000+05:30

In the Bus to vellore, I was reading an article about the recent disturbances and unrest in Sri lanka and Tamil Nadu coast . It was about a dad who couldn't save his 3 daughters while escaping to Tamil nadu from the island nation. Incidently, the Boat that he hired sank in the middle of the sea and he could only carry his son and swim to the shore, gracefully offering all his 3 daughters to the sea. He must have felt guilty for not being able to save his daughters. But I was wondering how he must have felt at that decisive point, in deciding whom to offer and whom not to.... I was later trying to put myself in his shoes and find a reason for saving the son and not any one of his daughters. The reason seemed obvious. The Son was the youngest and most importantly he was a SON. He might have decided to reduce the complexities of his "after tragedy" life. What would those 3 girls have thought about their father at that deflection point. They must have pleaded to him with all their energy. I could only feel pity, shed tears, sitting right here. On a lighter note, This story could be a potential opportunity for James Cameron. I had been to Dhanushkodi. It was not all that busy then. I know it must be full of ailing refugees right now.

At home, my milk man hasn't changed nor we tried to change to another milk man. He still shouts "Saravana" with the horn, to announce his arrival, and then my mom or sister will go and fetch the milk. People still continue to shit on the outskirts of the village, on the fields, near the ponds and pumpsets, though there is a Rupees 2 lakh worth government constructed public shared toilet available* for use. 2 new houses have come up in 6 years in the whole village. That’s the growth of a village. Geography is pretty much the same. Hills were green and charming coz it is raining right now. The other color of the hill that I know is brown, during summer, which my sister argues as violet.

It is so touching to see things as it is, preserved, untouched, undisturbed when you see after years.

My granny was at home exclaiming about somebody owning a credit card but my MOM counter attacked with "What big deal, my son has a GOLD credit card, theriyuma"? I could only smile within. I know the pain of repaying the credit every month.

I'm so amazed at the way my family members facilitate me when I'm there. This hospitality turns me hostile.

Wild Adventures-School Days

2006-07-08T12:07:00.000+05:30

We, a group of 3 guys first wanted and then decided to fish in the canal. The modus operandi was to use kerchiefs and catch the fish. It was that fevicol advertisement during a cricket series that triggered this fishing idea in us. One of the team members raised a concern about the team size. "3" blindly relates to the three lines in a "Naamam" and that people used to avoid stepping into ventures involving the number "3". We had to hunt for a 4th member and then reached canal by noon.

The Canal looked pretty, with a good flow of knee level water. We stepped into the waters, lost a couple of kerchiefs to the water current and then realized that nature is mightier than men. We went to the corners where the current was not all that astonishing. 4 hours of hard work and we had a vessel full of fish by sun set. I felt so accomplished that I came running to my mom with my share of equally distributed fishes and forced her cook them right away. She looked at them and classified half of them as tadpoles, and the clarified that the rest were fishes, but kid'y fishes. They only had head and tail and they were just beginning to grow the body. My mom declared that the fish are not "cook" able. I was upset. All the hardwork has gone waste.

My Sweet Hometown

2006-06-04T07:18:00.000+05:30

If the question is "Brief about Vellore in less than 100 words" my answer would be...

Vellore is my hometown.

"The water that we get in pipes will already be warm ( At times, boiling). As a result cooking happens much faster consuming less LPG. For frying needs, we don necessarily have to use gas stoves. Any plain clean surface would do. A Biological advantage, It’s a perfect place for photosynthesis, And then there's a big medical advantage....Chances for a bird flu is very less. Only the fittest viruses and bacteria can survive. Even the so called 'andang kaaka' (crows) doesn't come out during the day times, and thus we are relieved from their shiting problems. "

I feel extremely pity for peasants, kerchief sellers and people who raise those sky scrappers spending their lifetime under the sun.

On the other hand, at my office in Bangalore, the ideal temperature that is maintained is 23c and even if this raises by 1c, I will call corporate services guy to bring it down, not being able to withstand that 1 degree discomfort. I don't know how to name this attitude of mine. Could be thenavuttu or thimir or nenjazhutham or peter. I don't understand why we are reluctant to adapt to these very natural conditions. I also know of people who use sun creams to come out in the sun during lunch breaks.
Surprisingly the very same Vellore records the lowest of temperatures in winter among the plains. Whatever may the temperature be, most of my childhood glorious threads residing in my brain carry memories from this place. I love this place because my beloved parents are here. I love this place because my pretty friends are still here. I love this place because my first crush occurred there. The Moment im here, I feel a lot safer, protected and comfortable.

Stupid or Serious

2006-05-09T17:35:00.000+05:30

I was reading Malgudi schooldays by R.K Narayan. I agree I should have read it lot earlier, Better now, than never. I also think that books of this kind should be read again and again at different phases of one's life, for the content will remain same, but the very sense that the book makes, that the very impression that the book leaves on you will differ.

Few things, that were once serious had turned stupid and vice versa with age, for example, cricket was so serious to me that losing matches was an unpardonable sin. Be it my local velnagar team or Indian team. Cricket was everything, the ultimate showdown of power and prowess. Now I don’t care so much for cricket.

And the idea of marriage was stupid then. Whenever the oldies asked me "will u marry this girl?" pointing to a good looking girl of a compatible age, my reply used to be "No way, yuck" kind.

Now that I have grown up, so did those girls, the only difference is they are cute and I'm not so. I wish those oldies to repeat the same question. My reply would now be "Oh yes, why not" but the fact is nobody is asking.

Sleep, I hated it during those days, I wanted to be awake all day and night. My Mom often used to tie me to the cot believing that would be put me on to sleep. But I will be blinking wanting to join the velnagar team to play hot cricket, hot because vellore records 100+ degree farenheit quite easily and convincingly during summer.

Now I sleep 10 hours at home, in meetings, conference calls, trainings, presentations, after lunch, just before lunch, after tea and before snacks...

The following lines are an excerpt from Narayan's interview on Tamil which I felt is worth mentioning

"But Tamil is a tongue-twister and a demanding language even for Indians from other provinces, the difficulty being that the phonetic value and the orthography are different, and it cannot be successfully uttered by mere learning; it has to be inherited by the ear"

Monday Morning

2006-04-11T16:15:00.000+05:30

It was Monday morning and I woke up with terrible back pain. Back pain may signify a bunch of things for women. What do they signify for men? I was wondering...With a wish to get rid of this pain, I did some stretch exercises that my GYM master had taught me. Shockingly the magnitude of the pain just got multiplied by at least a factor of 10. I realized the pain is getting unmanageable.

In the next 20 minutes, I got self admitted into one of the premier hospitals in Bangalore.
After 20 minutes of tough interrogation, the compounder managed to answer 50% questions in a form which, to me appeared like matriculation mid term question paper. He called the duty Doctor, actually 20 minutes back, the moment i walked in, but the doctor took 20 minutes to attend to me. Was he in toilet? Or Was he romancing with Mallu nurse? How can u attend an emergency patient taking 20 minutes?Doctor came and repeated the same set of questions and I 'patient'ly answered them all. It was 30 minutes past and I'm yet to be treated.
He took 10 more minutes to suspect tiny stone in my kidney.

'Stone in kidney' definitely sounded better than 'hole in heart'. The stone should obviously be smaller. When did I last swallow a stone of size that can sit in my kidney? It was during my college days, my hostel canteen dinner used to have tiny stones every now and then. Did my mouth swallow a couple of them without filtering? Chances are bright...

Then he advised me to do an ultra sound scan. Ultra sound. No way, I want Dolby Digital surround sound only, I wanted to protest, but then realized that I'm admitted in emergency ward and I should behave accordingly.

The Nurse wanted me to fill my bladder to proceed with ultra sound. After drinking 10 glasses of water i went to her. She took me to a room where a gigantic GE healthcare machine was waiting to reveal all the diseases that i had. After some initial tests she declared "your bladder isn't full"..Drink more water. I said i don't have space to drink even a drop more of water. She then suggested me to wait for a while, till i feel like urinating. Now, thats an intelligent move. Finally by bladder was full and my ultra sound report was out. It was handed over to me and i was advised to meet an urologist with this report. While waiting for the urologist i wanted to identify the number of stones myself looking at the scan. But to my depair both my kidneys appeared similar.

Now came the consultation...an Urologist, reddygaru looked at my report and said "They are saying that your right kidney is slightly swollen possibly due to a mild stone in right kidney". "They are saying"...who is saying? I wanted to ask him.But replaying his sentence I could sense a sign of uncertainity, "they are saying", "possibly due to"...It was like Indian weather report. Rain may occur may not occur kind... Is he really an urologist? Or a geologist? ..Sun TV Monika was a lot more consistent i felt. He is given with 4 clean and crisp diagrams of my kidney and yet if he cannot detect a stone out of it, what an urologist he is, question raised my mind.

What should i do next? i asked...

Because the stone size is tiny, we don't need to operate it, u have drink 4 liters of water everyday and kick it out, he said.
Kick it out? Do u mean 'shit it out'?
No PISS it out, he said.
I was under the impression that kidney manages both solid and liquid form of wastes, but the doctors statement put my zoology basics in question...time to refresh my basics.
4 liters of water everyday? i exclaimed...

If I obey you, I will have to PISS every half an hour and If I do, what will that corner cube telugu girl think of me? She may conclude my kidney isn't functioning at all and all that i drink directly comes down without any scrutiny. How will i convince her it's only a 0.3mm tiny stone?

I'm good at pissing on stones, but pissing a stone out is new to me, and I need some time to ramp up..really...

.NET

2006-03-31T14:22:00.000+05:30

I was at home, when my dad's office colleague and a loooong time buddy came home to see me. After completing the formalities that included a couple of marie biscuits, bru coffee, and "eppadi paa irukra, bangalore eppadi irukku" kind of 'keep alive' questions, he asked me "ippa .NETku bangalorela eppadi scope irukka?/How is the scope for .NET in bangalore?"

what? Did u say ".NET"...i was astonished to hear this from a 54 year old accounts graduate/grand father/diabetic patient/villager and more importantly a responsible father...

Does his question has something to do with "India shining"?

I was happy to explain him that ".NET "is just another key word that the so called "computer training institutes" make noise of, along with java, C sharp, XML, AML etc.,

I also told him that "Being Solid" in the chosen domain is more essential than "Being in every domain"....

But I respect his efforts to get his son a .NET job.

30,000 kms

2006-03-16T16:24:00.000+05:30

I was one among the three that first secured a job thru campus interview in our batch. So this reason was strong enough for me to demand a bike. My roommates said I deserve it and I felt the same too. My Mom said I don't deserve it yet. My Dad was processing my demand. It was so harsh that I can only call it a demand, not a request. My dad serviced my demand and I chose a deep blue pulsar 150 while I hardly knew how to ride. Can u imagine? I learnt riding on a brand new pulsar 150 cc because this was the first bike in my family. My friends weren't generous enough to lend away their bike for my learning. I'm not blaming them. They were right.

I fell down a number of times, I dropped my sister down and then I dropped my mom down and luckily she managed to fall just away from arcot municipality ditch. Pathetic, for all the sacrifice that my mom did, I dropped her down, how ridiculous is this? All this happened before I brought the bike to Bangalore. I had asked one of my friends who happened to be a better rider than me to help me displace the bike from vellore to bangalore. He generously backed off during the last minute. With whatever riding I learnt during 4 weekends at vellore, I rode the bike myself and I must say, I was lucky to have survived that ride.

My rides in Bangalore were very expensive. I don't know if I rode with a 'thief like expression' on my face, that the cops never missed me. Adding to this, was my number plate which bore a fancy TN registered number (TN 23 J 2131, is it really fancy? ok thats a different thing)but I had to pay a good percentage of my salary to cops every month.

I even sought some concessions, made some exclusive deals with cops. I ended being a 'consistent customer' for the airport road cop. Sometimes when my wallet was almost empty, I had to surrender my bike, walk till the nearest ATM, withdraw negative cash and reward the cop for his accomplishments. I even had to prove him that I paid him only yesterday and I assured him that I will pay him once a week..

If you are wondering why I had to pay him..i didn't have any of the documents that a bike owner must have.

Cops were one side of my expensive ride story. After putting all my family members down, it was my turn to fall. Every fall was so classic that I will cherish them forever. Once because of a dog, again because of a dog (different dog) and on the dog ( That dog was alive, i saw it running away), and then because of the rain, again because of the mud that the raid caused. 5 leg crash guard changes, 3 indicator changes, 2 weeks of medical leave, 800 rupees of doctor fees, 4 handle bar changes, all in 2 months, remember just 2 months..

The fall on the dog by the dog was the most painful. I fell and my bike fell on me. I got out of bike and I was trying to lift my bike but in vain..Four guys eating paani poori in the sideby stall, were interested in continuing to eat paani poori and never helped me get out of the busy bannerghatta road.

Second most painful was this. I was going to office and I fell down in front of st johns hospital. St johns is a very big hospital and I thought my knee patch up may not require the skills of st john's doctors. I returned back home. In my effort to find a affordable clinic in my locality, I fell down again, hurting the same knee. PAIN, im feeling it again after a long time, since I left my mom for studies 3 years ago. This knee was patched up. It took 1 week to heal and I was alright. All set to fire on the guns. Just wanted to buy the last installment of band aid and I fell again. This time on the other knee.
I spent the next week watching kolangal, anandham, kanavarukaaga etc etc.,

All this is true, I swear. I fell, fell and fell. With both knees patched up I ate up all my medical leaves that i was entitled for.

But that was the last fall...I hope not to have any more fall.

And why did I start this post first of all...

My Bike had crossed 30,000 kilometers last week and just wanted to re-look at my painful journey.