Secret of the Tan on Valentines day- Have a leisurely read

Super tired and wary, i step into office at 12 30 on Valentine’s day, the first question my collegue puts to me, "hey so late on valentine’s day, (eye balls popping)!!!, Seems u had a superb valentines weekend at a lonely beach resort!! Kya baat hai!!!." Fuming from the resort i go back to my seat and start wondering "what a torrid day!, what a Loser of a guy!, what am i to do to get rid of my tan, Why my V-Days are a disaster when most of the world is super happy today???!!!!.

Flashback- 6 Hours back- 6 30 AM in the morning (Concentric Circles, bloody that’s what they used to show in old movies)

I wake up with my dreams filled with lazy afternoons after a hugely ONROAD weekend filled with fighter jets, long rides on the mad hot sun, cricket matches and smokeless hookahs!! This week is it i thought, a weeklong desired with very little work, lots of sleep, swimming lessons and no tension. Little that i realize that DJ who has come to Bangalore on a business visit, is shaking in his XXXL size undies at the other end.

His dream is straight forward, he misses his flight to Hawai at 12 20 PM- 14th Feb, spends the day looking at old aunties while he rather look at their much younger daughters at the airport and finally wins a crying competition with a bawling baby to win the last available ticket on the 11 59 AM- 14th feb (last flight to Mumbai). Curiously as he gets on to the flight, he realizes that he’s the only passenger of the flight piloted by a telegu speaking- kannada guy with a dragon head face. His worst nightmare!! After being sedated on the flight by a 24 year old, 70 looking overweight Air India stewardess, DJ wakes up at 6 31 AM at Kandahar airport surrounded by air cushions, laptops, chips and sweet fragrance of a warm bed. What?? He is at my house (6 32 AM - 14th February). phew - DJs mind speaks "that was close, I let the stewardess too close to me on my dreams!!!!”. “Negative vibes”

I had decided on this plan yesterday, leave home at 9 20, get DJ hopped on to the most reliable BIA Volvo buses which would take him to the Airport an hour ahead of time and i enjoy a peaceful day at work and have much vaunted rest. 6 35 AM still and I am peacefully soft asleep when i hear the most horrendous noise of a pig grunt, its DJ brushing his teeth. Still holding my soft pillow, i yell out- dude what u are doing so early in the morning??. DJ says- "Abey, jaldi tayyar hona hai, jaldi jaana hai airport"- he trembles as he speaks. Paying no head i doze back and slowly switch on laptop to check latest happenings of the world in Facebook still draped in my cozy blanket.

Finally i look at the clock, 7 30 AM and right next to the clock stands a forlorn looking fatso with a "i am 2 seconds away from suicide"-look. What happened i gush. Dude, I am getting “negative vibes”, i want to leave to the airport soon. Stunned!! “What? Your flight is at 12 30 and not at 9 30”. i quietly make my way to the door, pick up the news paper , milk and proceed to make a hot pipping coffee, and vola, the cook is here too. As i feel a tantalizing smell of refreshing coffee intervened only by fluffy aloo parathas, i see DJ coming out of the bath room screaming, no water dude, negative vibes i m telling you, i am gonna get screwed, whats the plan he asks? Innocently i answer, "dropping you at the BIA bus stop, it will take you to airport by 11". DJ almost shivering- "Hey drop me off at the airport na, on a bike you will slide through traffic and reach on time. Please dude, i am begging you!!", Stunned i ask, "dude, whats wrong, you awake or dreaming, the Airport is 60 kms away, i l go crazy doing 120 kms and coming back to office!!!, You have breakfast , i l get ready and drop you at the bus stop earlier, i l come back and have breakfast and then go to office", DJ says, "it’s ok, not feel like having break fast, lets leave right away".

Took out the bike and DJ got on, Already handicapped by the ton of load on the back seat, DJ further lands his huge 18th century bag on to his lap to make my bike not only the most disastrous projection from behind, but left the already paralysed engine gasping for breath. I pat the bikey and say "5 Kms mate, you will do it easy." Past the ravaged roads near my house, half the way on to the bus stop, i hear a squeaky voice from behind, to hear clearly i open the helmet half the way up to listen clearly. DJ was bawling, sitting behind me, he starts ranting, "tu mumbai aayega toh main aisa nahi karta, tu mujhe beech raaste chod ke jaa raha hai, i l be lost, the bus will breakfown, bangalore traffic will take me down, i l be kidnapped and i will never reach mumbai!!!". i slam the brakes hard and i am like. "What????", "Please please mujhe airport chod de, tu bahut ziddi hai, please mujhe airport chod de. mein tera guest hoon.". For a moment i thought its my 8 year old cousin sitting behind me and not a 25 year old over grown, double sized friend. "negative vibes".

Unable to think clearly i turn the bike around and decide, enough is enough. I dont want to be charged with child ignorance and emotional atyachaar when i knock the doors of heaven, i l drop this sly in airport!!!!!

Thus began the begining of my tan. For those who dont know, the Bangalore airport is located 45 kms north of the city and exactly 60 kms from my house. Along the journey , my first encounter is with the predecessor of the volvo (BIA) bus that DJ was supposed to travel, the driver laughs uncontrollably looking at my plight. He rants, i drive a luxury bus designed to take even the most raunchy of losers (those who dont have a car) to the airport in the least possible time and here he sees a young man on a young overburdened bike heading of to the same destination because of a negative vibe. The second encounter is with a Meru cab (numbered 6520) taking pity on the plight, promises to give company all the way to the airport. In between i hear squeals saying, "Arrey 90 KMPH pe chalega toh mereko neend aa jayega ( you go this fast, i will fall asleep), slow chala". All i do is ignore and spell out the choicest of BC, MC, BDK all directed at DJ but not carried to him by the airwaves blocked by the burning helmet with the fuming head inside. After almost a 2 hour ride, the Bangalore international airport receives its first Bike visitor from the hinterland, All of Heavens spurned to see the Godly sight of a Bike venturing into an all new terrain and as the roses pout and I have finally had enough of the ghastly sight.

12 30 PM- 14th feb. No breakfast, No appetite for lunch, I can feel my skin burning, I just can’t sit and I still wonder! "What a torrid day! What a Loser of a guy!, what am I to do to get rid of my tan, Why my V-Days are a disaster when most of the world is super happy today???!!!!

Dinner at dharamsala

Just returned from the most memorable dinner and wanted to store it for eternity, what better than share?!!!

I fixed the place for dinner during the evening get-a-bike walk, turned out a brilliant choice. We go to the Italian-tibetian food place- green!!! As we walk in , the place is buzzing and filled with foreigners and we sit outside. As we just start browsing the menu, a tibetian family walks in. A smiling man who greeted every table also smiles broadly at us. He simply asks, are you locals? We said no we are from Bangalore!!!! Hes overjoyed, just shakes hands with each of us. He went back memory lane, 25 years back he used to stay in bangalore where he stayed while he studied as well as worked a while before moving to nepal. He introduces himselves as Dha-wa, and quickly translated as chandrashekar , dha means moon and hence he was named chandrashekar in college, our Chandra speaks fluent Kannada and first introduced us to his wife and his 20 odd year old son who was leaving to kushalnagar for his studies.

He suggested our dinner menu- special lasagna, tofu momos and thenthuk!! He then shared his life learnings of how money means so little, how Buddhism and ofcourse Hinduism is all about being happy mentally than being lodged in a spic n clean new York appartment with no peace of mind, He practically knew everyone among the foriegners in the room - who he said come to india for peace and took example of a 100 year old rich European who had let go of everything and was living here for a long time just cared for by friends at dharamsala, on observation I find that the man could hardly move and yet was cheered and entertained by the staff.

Dha-wa then suggested us places to see around here to go to the place of the government in exile, dalailamas abode and the karmapa's. He then said that he had just returned from a direct audience with the dAlailama and asked us to meet him as well. He said the Indians have been soo helpful of the tibetian cause by housing the lama and the karmapa as well as provide every possible assistance. He sAid that the lama is extremely friendly and one could easily sight him etc and would have granted audience if we had taken prior appointments.

Food then arrived and our chandrshekar took his leave after a few photos for us!! The food was brilliant and memorable just per se. Loved it!!

The smile is a wonderful thing and wonder why we don't retain the warmth and hospitality we were once famous for!! A
Thing to ponder. Walked back to a slew of PJ from whom I call Raksas ever since he scared the little kid in a manali shop- Rakesh Pai who divides his name into two halves- one who has glowing hair(Ra dium /kesh-hair) and whose day is celebrated world over on 22/7- (pi). More than a dinner can take!!!

Kashmir - Is it worth it

Kashmir is a wonderful place. I have seen it with my eyes and there is no doubt that if there is paradise on earth- it is Kashmir..

Whats wrong i wonder. Some 50 percent of the population of Kashmir- within LOC voted some 2 years back and elected a government under the Indian sovereign. And they have been doing that over and over for the last 20 years or so since the insurgency began. It just proves one thing that there are many "Kashmiris" who believe they are Indian. But i also know that there a lot of seperatists who identify themselves with Pakistan and either want to go to Pakistan or form a separate country. The third dimension are the people who were the erstwhile Hindu minority who lived there but forcibly moved out to make way for a Kashmiri movement. Now their claim is about the land- "Kashmir". But Do the people really have a voice in all of this?

Now whats the Kashmiri problem? During the partition, Kashmir was a unique case where the Hindu head of a muslim majority state apparently opted to remain with India. Now that Kashmir of the 1950s has been since bifurcated into 3 regions. One which is Pakistan Occupied, One which is Indian occupied and one which is China occupied(apparently gifted by Pakistan).

India is probably the only world country which runs to other countries to solve its problems. China has dealt with Tibet strongly in the past. So has Israel with innumerable attacks in the middle east. UK has dealt with a rogue Irish state. All three are examples of how a country has successfully dealt with rogue elements with an iron hand. India has done it as well when dealing with insurgency with Punjab. Agreed that all this has been without dealing with a foriegn hand . ie. Pakistan in our case. But considering that Pakistan is in a shoddy state of affairs by itself, doesnt it feel ripe that its time to act and deal with the situation NOW.

This is seriously a situation that demands an iron hand maneovering. License the indian army to cleaning up Kashmir rather than take off its priveleges (ASPA). The solution is apparent in my eyes. Make LOC the border. Ask the people to choose where they want to go, India or Pakistan and solve the issue once and for all. The people in indian kashmir who want to move should be allowed to relocate once and for all. Peace isnt a byproduct of inaction but definitely a product of stern action.

It burns me from within when more rampant issues affecting the rest 95% of the country like inflation and education are left to inaction while the majority of the time is spent on trying to talk to separatists and hear their grievances while they spread hatred and burn the indian flag in the streets of Srinagar. It certainly isnt worth my tax payers money to spend on infrastructure that anti nationals would just burn down. Ask them to go to Pakistan instead if they so desire.

Scared as a Lamb Part 1

What happens when a scared lamb goes to slaughter house?????????... Let us analyse his thinking.... First how does it identify that it is slaughter house? Well some calling from heaven.. Lights get dim, He hears screaming, he hears screeching, but all he can see is red faces of limber and leather.. He can feel happiness all round as his heart feels light while the body feels too heavy that even the thought of walking cramps muscles. With great courage he steps up in front, the road ahead is slippery, he thinks thats how lifes been, but never before has the road been as red and chimy almost like a red carpet rolled on welcoming a piece of meat that the hungry human is dying to eat. The Slaughter house he looks around is characterized by plain interiors but the saving grace is a smiling assasin in shining armour with a weapon so sharp that he cant wait to use its brilliant enamor.

It had been a tiring day at work for Veena who from her traditional tam bram household where tayir sadam is usually breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was extremely difficult to get used to the dulls and rigors of the IT job that she stepped into some years back. Her parents had been pressurising her to get married and get settled. Not that she didnt want to, but as much as she tried, she could never get a groom. Either he was too fat, didnt have a US job or plain too well educated and macho to agree to all her whims and fancies which she d planned after marriage. So most of the time she was all alone wherever she went.

Veena worked in a typical Indian IT company which made her work for 18 hours a day, typically paying as much as for 2 hours of her work. The desired qualification and profile of the company Job description slotted like "Wanted - Boring non-intellectual, no work life balance, should be prepared to work without credit and get paid the best in class peanuts exported from north africa". Veena getting excited by the Job description jumped at the oppurtunity and here she was 2 years later standing at the doorway of doom, or so she thought.

It was as usual a party of her umpteenth friend getting married , she often wondered when will my number come "Oh Perumale"............ It was another such evening when one of her best friends had been married. And Veena had liked her idea all over again. "US Groom, No Sisters- No Liabilities- Parents long gone, No compromise on these constraints". The dinner was brilliant, a 7 course buffet with the finest savories and it was followed by a paatu kutcheri by Unni Krishnan. She d forgotten her watch, so the first semblance, Veena got of time was when her mom called her. She almost fainted when she heard was the time was 8 30 PPPPMMMMMM.... It was sooo late in the night and the christined fat old lady had started singing..... How will i get home "perumalae"??????,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Interesting meetings at Unexpected locations

Hey i know this guy u think.. havent i seen him somewhere. You are clear, You know him.. How many times does this happen to us. Some old classmate, college-mate or even a person you have met in a bus sometime and struck an impressive chat.

It so happened that two things happened over the last week. I met two people whom i had all but forgotten in life. It happened so unexpectedly that the thrill of the moment lasts for a long clatter to add some excitement to otherwise boring silly lifes ( i wonder, my last two blogs have the title Bore to it, signifying how life has become).

Scene1: Location: KPN Bus stop. Hey i know that pretty lass in the corner of the room. But shes on the phone. Isnt she from school. yes she is. She was in my school though had hardly even seen her in school. but knew her from social networking site called Orkut... (It used to be my fad those days, they say these days , they are writing its obituary since everyone is farming in facebook). Bad news. i hear that my bus is cancelled and i would have to endure a non AC sitting journey to Chennai. But thats not whats ringing thru my mind.

Am i sure it is her, i decide to call up friends to check. Not sure. No one in touch. Doubt creeps. I turn to the girl, shes giving me a long hard stare. Now does that say, "Dumbo, cant you say Hi, i m from your school" or does that mean "Bitch why you staring, tere maa- behen nahi hai kya".. after a lot of oxygen through my viens, i decide to finally ask. Holding my breath, Are you from sankara????? ,, "My foot..... Last fifteen minutes have been trying to make conversation with you, i am here ... and u dont even recognize me" says the awoken tigresss... Well thats not fair. She could have talked to me either. After all post womens liberation movement and 33 percent reservation, its common knowledge that guys cant go up and speak to girls :P . That was one heck of a meet, My Bus came in 2 minutes and i had exactly a minute to exchange numbers. innumerable chats and phone calls followed and it feels like having found one long lost friend in this depressing city.

Scene2: Where else do u find solace on a weekend in Bangalore.. It has to be a mall and my credit card had just been transfixed to a Mastercard server somewhere in the US for the umpteenth time in exchange for some tshirts and again i find a long lost face. I know her. This time i am sure. She was the Chatter Aunty on the flight, i made conversation with her about a year and a half back on a flight between mumbai and chennai. I was going for my SP Jain interview and was reading through a ton of notes that i had made for myself.

Aunty was travelling alone and being the compulsive talker types immediately struck conversation with me. She is from chennai and is in Mumbai to spend time with her son and grandchildren. (Which she apparently was doing now as well in bangalore as her son had moved.) She gave me lots of tips for the interview. She was a school teacher and told me one golden rule because of which i remember her even now. She told me which roughly translates to, "before you go for the GD, go early to the campus, talk to people there, make yourself comfortable with the atmosphere and just rock it like theres no tomorrow". I did exactly that.

Now when i met her, she introduced me to her son and grandson. And had a noticeable flutter in her eyes when i told her that it was her advice that helped me. She blessed me and told to keep in touch.

Lifes a constant journey, people we see on the wayside arent just travellers but sometimes the arm holders and its just that we need to remember these small moments that make life all the more enriched. I am sooo excited to have had these experiences and i hope to bump into every of my lost friends... Life has to have such high points

La-Bore

I love Marketing.... But sometimes when that becomes a lot of bull shit, i mean the product isn't worth ten percent of the expected result, it really makes the perpetrators, the brand ambassadors look such Losers, and lose a lot of face and respect.. I felt let down by probably the smartest marketers around - Times of India who have been promoting this movie- Lahore , tactly to back their honorable intentions in the "Aman ki Aasha" campaign.

I always feel that movies are to entertain and they should never preach. All the screeching and "Yo"s were so out of character. Whats abt Pakistan thats soo stereotypical. You show Indian boxers train in world class facilities, and Paki athletes given training in what looks like a terror camp. Stereotyping has been the yore of the indian mindset, and what better example than have a paki coach who looks to win at all costs, and the indian coach saying "we indians dont undo evil to what was done to them". This statement has lost its catch value coz of its tenous use, reuse and misuse in indo- pak rivalry.

The acting was sooo fake. Just reading out dialogues straight out of a 4 year olds stage play script, which is written normally for causes like water conservation etc, here its for promoting cross border peace... A screening of the script should have found my kid sisters script much better. I pity actors like Mukesh Rishi who played a superb character in Sarfarosh to be playing such pitiable roles, particularly coz we have been seeing him on screen for well over two decades to believe that his son should have been doing that role of a paki launda

how untouching was the end........ "tum hindustaniyon ne match nahi jeeta , par dil jeet liye". This when they show the crowd baying for blood and the media speculating that an indian player has come to avenge the death of his brother. Hows that dil jeetna. A half crooned attempt at joining a small meagre crowd melanged by TOI for Aman ki aasha. I really kind of lost faith in the organisation if this is just another gimmick or a serious gesture aimed with intent at good relations against a neighbour , not even half of india is convinced is serious about peace and its just a half baked nation with no principles, no leadership and not worth trusting. Maybe thas why the movie was also half baked and such an utter bore that it almost spoiled 3 hours of my Saturday and also stuck in my mind that i had to waste much more of a Sunday to write on it.....

What to do to attack Boredom???

Please note that there is a question mark in the title...... This is not a reckoner to beat boredom..

Its quite a chore this. Work happens through the week and you wait for the weekends... And when weekends do happen, a lack of a water tight plan like a weekend getaway(tickets get booked) or parasailing ( i am glued to give it a miss) or some shopping with a female( they wont let u go, so its watertight) and you are hoping for it to pass because of the lack of Things to do and due to a principal factor : BOREDOM..

Many times, pick up the phone to beat it.. On closer inspection i am amazed at the depths of things boredom can propel a talk at.. "Whasup... Nothing.... You tell me whassup......." and the conversation goes on and on. All i can say is, I have long been telling me that i have to learn French, maybe that would help me atleast say "Ca va tres bien" and show off to the other and maybe teach it to her.

Or i was thinking that i should go for Squash or Swimming to add more skills to my repertoire, but i still wonder what i would do in time when i m not near a squash court or near a pool. I already enjoy playing billiards, TT or other such boredom killing stuff i learnt due to such introspections in the past but they dont help me when i am not near these tables.

OK, next up- tried and tested- Reading. Theres a lot to read says Dilberten Anyone but what.. i get bored deciding what to read, that i dont read. I browse a lot and play games online. Well thats part of what i do when i m not bored. I have also decided to get water colors and do something i havent done for almost 20 years - Paint and not for 19 years- Stitch a Poster..... Watching TV is a good suggestion my mind made.. but hey i dont want to watch Rahul Mahajan get married on TV.

Well things rolling up my head...... I was thinking what to do when my friend suggested, why dont you blog.. You love it... then i thought what would the topic be?????? Boredom and yooo here i go....