Time-Out Time

A Lot About Society Is ‘GUI Programmed’

2011-11-05T20:23:00.000+05:30

A few days back I read an article about software engineering. And this was so thought provoking and got me thinking about how universal, abstract concepts can be.

First the article – it talks about a phenomenon defined as ‘LeakyAbstractions’. What does this fancy word mean? Simple, when you define or elucidate an easy way of doing something complex, you are always missing (or leaking) something. I will take some real life examples to drive home the concept.

Most of us Indians, people in my age group at least, are into software. And most of us do GUI based programming. There is a fancy tool and lets drag and drop stuff. And with the press of a button things get compiled and without much effort your application is up and running. Great, isn't it? Well, as long as it works it’s great. What if something goes wrong? Most programmers are stuck here and don’t know how to work around it. And that is because your fancy GUI tool did all the work for you and abstracted how your tool communicates with the machine.
Let’s take politics. A once radical party like the DMK, which originated out of strong conviction in principles, is today finding it hard to convince younger voters that they are an ideology-based movement. Why is that? Are the old leaders of the party not true to their principles? I think they are. But the problem comes from the newer crop of leaders. They literally ‘GUI programmed’ their way into public life – had the easy routes (just like a ‘GUI programmer’ has) and didn't know the reason behind why their party is actually appreciated by the people. They didn't know the fundamental reason for their acceptance.
And the last example is another favorite topic of mine - religion. You hear a lot about Islamic and more generally, religious based terrorism. On the other hand you find the most loving, caring and passionate religious people. And on the other – fanatics who would kill for the sake of religious beliefs. So what went wrong? Why this drastic difference? Leaky abstractions are at work here too. The hardcore religious people, I believe, took principles to their hearts but didn't bother to find out why they work. In other words they found the joy of religion and God rather easily – it came to them on a platter, just like how a fancy tool came to a ‘GUI programmer’. They never bothered to find out why their religion’s beliefs work so well.

Based on this concept, here is what I believe is the greatest take away- Think about religion, society and popular practices by keeping in mind a phenomenon called Leaky Abstractions. Once you start doing it, your life will lose its black and white color. Shades of grey and slowly other colors will be visible to you. You start thinking about fundamental concepts of life and why great men and saints have been saying for millennia that there is but one thing called as ‘God’. Differences between religions arise only because the things that they ‘leaked’, while preaching, were different. The crux was always the same. Analyzing what religions leaked will help us get to the core, I believe.

Well, if you are still not convinced –the term ‘GUI Programmers’ also leaks. I chose the word to abstract people who don’t analyze deeply. And obviously the term falsely accuses GUI programmers who delve deeply into fundamental concepts, and completely assumes that low level programmers (assembly language and stuff) always know things in depth. Neither of which are true.

To The Girl Of My Dreams

2011-08-18T10:40:00.014+05:30

The poem, like the picture, will be a little coarse, but that's how I felt in the morning, after a sleepless night. This post is another one inspired by a girl I couldn't get the guts to talk to. But did she leave an impact, eh..

Hey, Girl of my dreams

Let me get some sleep.

I remember how beautiful you are.

You don’t have to remind me.

It’s hard enough being teased

By you, when the sun shines.

But to do the same thing

With the moon around ain’t cool. Ain’t cool.

A man is a slave to his habit.

But to your habit, why am I a slave.

You waltz in and waltz out.

Sweet to look, even with sore eyes.

Each night you enter my dream,

And wave a casual 'hi'. You do. You really do.

But by the time I raise my hand,

You fly away with the wind. Sly.

You had me, the day you stood

Leaning gently against a tree.

So why the mystery appearances at night?

Look at me baby. Don’t you think I could use some sleep?

Let me suggest a thing dear.

Avoid me in the nights and

Flirt with me in the days.

I will get some sleep and you, some love.

Am I an artiste?

2011-08-02T19:46:00.004+05:30

Like all people obsessed with art and are no good at it, I am struggling to find something that motivates me to write. On deeper analysis, I am convinced that there are two reasons why every writer or an artiste, be it a musician, a sportsman or a painter, struggles to keep improving himself. This post is about the two things that distract any artiste. Continue reading if you are one of those who are obsessed with the idea of constant self improvement, but are no good at it.

The first is sheer lack of inspiring moments in life. Actually, let me re-phrase that; the inability to see moments of human passion and struggle all around us. Stories worth writing about are present all around us. Tunes worthy of a song abound us and the option of perfecting a cover drive is available every time you pick up a bat. But the pressures of everyday life and the fast paced thinking, that we are so used to, make it hard to see and appreciate these moments.

The second reason is a more sublime one. It is the smugness that you get after you have done something that you are proud of (And invariably its only a trivial thing). And from my experience, this effect definitely causes an artiste to plateau. Getting it right once is good, but it is just a start. The ability to repeatedly achieve mastery over an art is what makes an artiste. Even a monkey can pull off a Prabhu Deva like movement, if it kept repeating the movement a thousand times. But will it be able to do it again in lesser attempts? That, in my opinion – the desire to keep getting better constantly, is what makes an artiste. And smugness has no place in this endeavor.

So, coming to the main question - Am I an artiste? Well, I have only one answer to the question and there are no two ways of telling you this - "Check the picture above". (Hope the hidden metaphor in the picture strikes you..!)

Adios..!

3 Reasons Why We Shouldn’t Support Baba Ramdev’s Fast

2011-06-01T12:31:00.000+05:30

June 4th is the day on which Baba Ramdev, the famous Yoga exponent plans to begin his fast against corruption. As the day nears, the Government seems to be trembling in its knees, fearing another Anna Hazare style movement. The PM has already written a letter to Baba Ramdev to call it off; he didn’t even respond to Anna’s letter before his fast. For most of us who supported the cause a few months ago, which was led by Anna Hazare, it is reason to celebrate that the cause is still alive. But Baba Ramdev is no Anna Hazare, and the selflessness, which characterized Anna Hazare’s movement, seems to be missing in the Baba Ramdev’s. Here are 3 reasons why we must not support Baba Ramdev’s movement.

First is the Baba’s motive behind the fast. The declared intention is to protest against graft. But Baba has made his political ambitions clear on more than one occasion. He has, by his own admission, aspirations to contest elections. The inherent contradiction is apparent. How is the Baba going to draw the line between his political ambition and this movement that he plans to start? How can we be sure that Baba will not use our support for the movement to kick start his political career?

The second reason is the timing of the movement. It has hardly been two months since the Anna Hazare movement subsided and things are proceeding in the right track. There have been discussions between the members of the drafting panel and despite the differences, the law is getting into shape. Any person with a real motive to prevent corruption will engage in an informed debate about the law and not start another wave of public outburst. That is not what the movement needs now.

The final reason is that Baba Ramdev is a man of religion. By virtue of his saffron robe, he becomes a Hindu leader and the movement against corruption does not need religion to be mixed in it. It needs the support of religious leaders but does not need to be led by them. I would much rather see religious leaders riding in their turf and not on politics. Religious leaders must practice and preach religion and spirituality, instead of using public support to enter politics.

It is interesting to note that Swami Agnivesh, another leader who, by my definition qualifies as a Hindu leader, has avoided falling into any of these three reasons. He is a member of the drafting committee and in integral part of this movement. But despite his saffron robe, has avoided painting this movement with colours of religion. Perhaps Baba Ramdev could take a leaf out of his book and help the movement in much better ways.

Under the present circumstances, I will not support Baba Ramdev’s movement and neither should you. Should he start a movement to develop awareness about Yoga, which I think he should, I would be the first of his supporters.

Talent is a Four Letter Word

2011-05-25T15:35:00.001+05:30

Talent is the most useless thing to have. Because being talented doesn't encourage you to change yourself and adapt. But it still gets you the results. But what happens when things change and require you to adapt. The results stop coming and then an amazing realization dawns upon you - 'Change is very hard to make'. To put it short, you are in the middle of nowhere and stuck without a map or a compass.

So am I arguing that talent is totally not required? Not at all. All I am saying is that talent is over-rated. Take a cricketer as an example; you don't have to master all the shorts to become a good batsman. Sourav Ganguly mastered the drive and the cut and ended up scoring more than 10,000 international runs. His talent wasn't even comparable to Sachin's or Dravid's, but he was as popular and successful too. His attitude led him to cover his weaknesses and use his strengths. His success only proves that talent is useless unless you know how to use it.

Nothing drives home a point than a comparable analogy. Here is one for this. Talent is like water in a bucket and attitude is like the bucket that gives shape to the water. A bucket without water is of no use and water without a bucket is lost. My point: even a small drop of water needs a bucket to give it shape.

This article was inspired after watching this video by Harsha Bhogle.

Kanimozhi’s Arrest And Beyond

2011-05-21T11:20:00.000+05:30

The DMK’s poster girl, Kanimozhi, answered the public’s call for justice by gracing Tihar. This latest development in the 2G saga answered the popular call amongst the general public to see justice being done. Being a responsible citizen and an ill-informed one in this case, I will refrain from commenting on whether this was right or wrong. But what caught my attention in this case was something metaphysical. And it led me to conclude that God isn’t just, he only recognizes man’s craving for justice through a system of Karma.

Yes, God isn’t just by nature. I view God as being a passive observer to an act of crime because it is another event in the cosmos and also because his system of Karma runs without his supervision. Let’s take Kanimozhi’s arrest as an example and let us assume, for argument’s sake that she took the bribe (just an argument). If the omnipotent God viewed it as an act of crime, something terrible should have happened to her then and there, because God is the Master and popular religions say that He will strike down with vengeance. But no, nothing like that happened. The sweet lord took a good few years to even initiate proceedings against her. And I can only assume that Kanimozhi’s Karma took time to catch up with her while God viewed the crime as another act of Karma.

Funny, isn’t it? A good portion of our life is spent debating on justice and what is right. But the good Lord has a simple answer to all that – Karma. It is bitter sweet. But it must be true as it fits the model that God views us all as equals. In the eyes of God, the perpetrator and the victim are equals who are just living out their Karma. And I believe Dr. Brain Weiss, when he says that once you have lived out your Karma, all including the late Osama bin Laden’s soul will be blessed.

US & Taliban - A Zero Sum Game

2011-05-06T12:14:00.003+05:30

Operation Geronimo, which took out the world’s most wanted man – Osama bin Laden opened another unfortunate chapter in the US’s flawed policy towards the Indian sub-continent. And contrary to many people’s expectations, this event will only open more doors than it closes. Pakistan is a sitting on the cusp of a being called a failed state and America’s puppet – neither augurs well for the world. India and China will be nervously waiting for the exit of American troops, which might not happen. Even if the American troops leave, Afghanistan will slip further into chaos. And of course, there is the obvious retaliation by whatever is remaining of the Taliban.

The blame for this mess has to be shared by both the US and Taliban. America nurtured bin Laden and in its desperation to win the Cold War made a hero of bin Laden. When bin Laden realized the obvious difference in ideology between his and the US’s, he began his fight against his former mentors. What followed was 9/11, a 10 year man hunt and Operation Geronimo. If there is one thing that is clear from this story, then it is that both sides are to blame. Unless both sides realize this, there will be no end to this zero sum game.

Being the more mature partner in this fight, the onus is on the US to start a new chapter and initiate a new policy in this region. A policy that does not have it roots in the Cold War or world domination. A policy that helps clean up Pakistan’s troubles and one that respects India’s regional dominance. The way the American’s cleaned up Operation Geronimo and Osama’s body, displayed some sensitivity towards this end. But a lot more needs to be done. India needs to speak up for what is best for this region while dealing its cards very close to its chest.

The Vanilla Theory And Carnatic Music

2011-02-17T10:19:00.001+05:30

The book Freakonomics inspired me to think of reasons beyond the obvious for everyday phenomena. And as an amateur classical musician I often wonder why Carnatic music, arguably the most evolved art form in the world, is not popular with the masses. Interestingly Steven Levitt (author of Freaknomics) and Thomas Friedman (author of ‘The World Is Flat’) combine in ways that they not of to offer a solution to this phenomenon.

The obvious reason that any Tom, Dick and Harry would give for this trend is that Carnatic music is boring to the average listener. While empirical evidence would support that view, it is my opinion this is only half the truth. And you know what they say about half truths?

“Vanillas simply don’t sell in today’s world”, goes an expression used by Thomas Freidman in ‘The World Is Flat’. Simply put, it means that you would rather gas up your car at a station where your car’s glasses are wiped for free, where the air is checked for free and where you can have the option of shopping or guzzling down a pizza, than at a station that only fills your tank. The latter variety of petrol bunk is simply a vanilla. The former is like vanilla ice-cream mixed with black forest and with chocolate sauce and nuts as toppings and also served in a fancy cup that carries the logo of your favourite actress. Should I even ask which one made your mouth water?

Apply the same analogy to music. Carnatic music is a vanilla - plain, simple yet delightful to taste and something that is easy to relate to. And film music like the ones made by geniuses like AR Rahman and Ilayaraja resemble the second variety of ice-cream – it has vanilla and a lot more. Go back to what Thomas Friedman said – “Plain vanillas don’t sell in today’s world”. And that, I believe is the reason why the high degree of evolution in Carnatic music does not add up to popular appeal. There is no problem with the vanilla; it is simply that the vanilla doesn’t sell by itself anymore.

This is just my view on this issue. It may be correct or it may be wrong, because it is just a hypothesis.

So where do I stand on my own explanation? Obviously the second form ice-cream with all the chocolate sauce and nuts, appeals to me. But the taste of the simple vanilla is lost in this. And nothing beats the simple vanilla ice-cream. Vanilla need not be a hot favourite for it to be mine.

To My Valentine, With Love

2011-02-14T09:09:00.003+05:30

When I first saw you walk past me,

I knew you were special.

When I first spoke to you.

I knew you were a delight.

When I first held your hand,

I knew you were the one.

But when I wondered how to call you,

I didn't have an answer.

Friend? Crush? Girlfriend? I don't know,

Wonder how we still keep going though

without giving this a name.

Will it still feel the same,

if I give it a name? Or

will it restrict the freedom we always had?

I can't count the Feb 14s that have gone by,

and I can't count the numerous chances

that I have had to call you my valentine.

Will I have another chance? I don't know.

So here goes. My sweet Valentine,

Let's make it through for another year.

I Lost Her To The Wind.

2010-09-01T14:30:00.003+05:30

I knew her for a few months only.

We laughed and fought like never before.

She spoke to me like none ever did.

Life was bliss, till the winds of change started to blow.

Walking by the side of a lake, a strong gust of air blew past us.

Her hair was dancing to the tunes of the wind, when she broke the news to me.

The winds of change blew too fast for either of us to stand ground.

And before I knew it, she was sending me forwards from a far off place.

Beside her, I wanted to stay for a long while. But why is it

that the wind blew away only her and left me standing.

Will it ever blow her back to me? - If only I could ask the wind.

I lost her. I lost her to the wind.

Best Scene in Ravanan

2010-07-02T18:15:00.002+05:30

I saw Ravanan for the second time this week, and I noticed a few finer points that I missed earlier. Among the various scenes in the movie, I enjoyed the one in which Aishwarya Rai prays in front of God (a partly broken statue on a river). What she and Vikram speak in this scene conveys each of the main character's position in this classic story of good versus bad. And, it also conveys Mani Rathnam's point of view on Ramayana (that no character is black or white, but all are shades of grey) .

First Aishwarya Rai. I thought she was at her acting best in this movie. And in this scene, she has done a neat job. The anguish that she expresses in front of God, by asking bad people to be shown as entirely bad, comes through very well. Her anguish indicates partly that she has developed a soft corner of Veera, and also that she doesn't like it.

Second, Vikram. To talk about Vikram's acting merits an entire post. But to express it in few words, it is suffice to say that he is fast nearing Kamal's lone position at the top. The way he enacts the sense of jealousy, by lifting his arms and making a dramatic speech about he feels bigger than everybody because of his lust, actually makes you forget that he is the bad guy here. In some ways, it's Vikram's amazing portrayal of Veera that has made the movie click with the audience.

The music, location and camera angles for this shot are excellent. They are in perfect sync with the pace of the story. Watch out for this scene when you watch the movie. I think it comes after the scene where Priyamani dies.

Ravanan Sequel - 2 (The Plot)

2010-06-25T23:30:00.004+05:30

The Plot:

Prabhu and Veera had never been away from each other for more than a day. Since the day Veera was born, Prabhu was his caretaker. He stood with him through thick and thin. Veera always had Prabhu as his consigliere. But the recent events brought about a distance in their relationship. Prabhu did not like Veera running after another man’s wife. He felt it was ok to kidnap and kill another man’s wife, but not steal her away from her husband. So he decided, for the first time in his life, to part ways with Veera. He was happy that Veera was up and running again but refused to be a part of his next move. He went back to the village to live with Ranjitha. (She’s back..!)

The sun rose over the Mettukudi Police Head Quarters. It was a typical day for Commissioner Dev, until his private cell phone rang. It was Sanjeev, the trusted forest officer. He had some news about Veera’s whereabouts and wanted to know if the Commissioner was going to go after him again. Dev hung up. He closed his office door and walked up to the blinds. He did the math, and it was very obvious to him that Veera had leaked the information about his location to Sanjeev. He did this so that Dev would come to that exact spot and be sitting ducks for him to kill. Despite the fact that he guessed the obvious, Dev decided to go for it. He knew that if he surprised Veera, he would get him for good this time.

Veera splashed water from a rivulet on his face and flashed his characteristic smile. He drew happiness on seeing his reflection in the water. He knew Dev would come after him. And he knew that Dev would spring a surprise on him at the last moment. But Veera was well prepared. Come dusk, he knew what he had to do to complete a bloodless revolution.

As the sun faded away behind the mountains, it was show time. Dev moved into the forest with a heavily armed group of cops in mufti. Sanjeev was by his side and guiding him through the rough terrain. Veera, meanwhile, slowly slipped into the rivulet. He tenderly waded his way through the water. He knew he had to swim for quiet some distance and wanted to conserve his energy. It was nearing seven o’clock now and the forest was very dark. The only light came from the torches of the cops. Dev stopped a kilometer before the spot of the encounter. He briefed his men about the plan. There was almost complete silence as he spoke. The only noise came from Sanjeev as he helped himself to a fruit from a tree top.

Veera, occasionally looked on the sides to see if he was attracting any attention. It was quiet but not completely silent. He knew that the dice had started rolling. With renewed adrenalin, Veera continued swimming. He was only a few minutes away from the spot he had in mind. Dev and his men took their positions. Their first step was to wait for some kind of noise or movement. Sanjeev did the aerial surveillance. They stood with their guard ready. Once Veera was spotted, Dev would take the first shot.

Veera slowly slipped out of the water. He made as little noise as possible. He couldn’t risk being heard or seen, especially with the number of policemen surrounding the area he was in. He worked the lock on the back door and moved in stealthily. He opened the door to what he guessed might be the correct room. And there she was, resting on the ground. Her legs were closely tucked to her body and her hands were supporting her face. Aishwarya was lying tenderly and sleeping off the warmth of her self. Seeing her was worth every bit of the pain that Veera had endured. Things had come a full circle since the last time he had last seen her. He had to wake her up before Dev came back.

It had been almost thirty minutes since Dev and his men took positions. There was no sign of Veera anywhere. Even a cow herd had passed once. It was becoming increasingly clear to Dev that this whole thing was a fake. But why, he kept wondering. Only then it struck him, that Aishwarya was alone at home. He quickly called off the plan and rushed towards to Forest Officer’s building. He wanted to call the policemen at his house as quickly as possible. But Veera was ahead of Dev on that count. He had worked the telephone wires before slipping into the rivulet. Dev was stuck in the middle of nowhere with no telephone and no signal to call from his mobile. It would take him at least an hour to reach a place with mobile connectivity. By that time Veera would have been long gone, with Aishwarya.

As he moved towards her, Veera was brimming with happiness. What he felt for her was not love, was not lust. It was special bond that transcended the realms of a conventional relationship. He had never felt anything like that before, and that was why he risked everything to be there. It was a one shot chance and he had done very well so far. As he neared her, Aishwarya woke up. She looked at him with mixed emotions of surprise, happiness and fear. She had spent months coming out of those gloomy fourteen days she spent with him. But now, on seeing him again she was back at the same place. Mixed feelings of anger, joy and desolation swept across her face. Veera hadn’t said a word, but already she was a changed person. Aishwarya’s fragile notion of normalcy once again collapsed. But, despite what she felt, Aishwarya turned away and refused to look at Veera directly. She walked away from him and he followed her. He moved to her front and looked at her in the eye. She refused to look at him. Her coldness caused Veera to lose his composure. The voices in his head started screaming once again. For months he had lived without them. She stepped back a few steps and with this Veera lost all the strength he had magically gained. The realization that Aishwarya wasn’t going to come with him struck him hard. All the effort that he had put in was going to waste. He had disconnected himself from his family, people thought he was dead; he managed to keep Dev on the run, and yet he was about to fail. He moved towards the door once again. He turned to look at her one last time. But she didn’t even look at him. Veera didn’t want to stay there a second longer and walked out. He slipped into the rivulet and headed towards the forest.

Dev drove as fast as he could. He still hadn’t reached a place with mobile connectivity. If only he could magically jump like Sanjeev.

Aishwarya leaned against the wall of her room. There were times when she wished she was dead. Her strong notions of good and bad were torn apart. Just as she was she was forgetting everything that she was uncomfortable with, Veera had arrived; and with him all those feelings. She knew she had done the right thing by not going with Veera. But the burden of the decision had taken a big toll on her. She had to live with the choice she had made. And she wasn’t comfortable with it. Of the many times that she wished that her life had ended, now was when she really felt it. As she lay against the wall in her darkly lit room, an earthquake struck the picturesque town of Meetukudi. Though not massive, it was strong enough bring down city’s tenderly built houses. Aishwarya’s body was recovered from the rubble the next day morning. Fate, it seems had heard her prayers.

Veera reached a secret location inside the forest. He sat there all by himself, not knowing what to do next. It was not often that a man like him didn’t know the directions of life. He laid himself on a long bed of rock and looked into the sky. Out of nowhere a gun popped into his vision. He looked up and noticed that a man was holding a revolver with one hand. Priyan had tracked down Veera and knew where he stayed. He was tired of Veera ruining his life. It was his marriage first and now his hand. He wanted revenge for being impaired for life. Veera looked at him and just as he was about to make a move with his leg, a bullet pierced his flesh. He had known the pain of a bullet before. But last time, he had a reason to live. The hope of a new journey kept him alive. Now, he was a resigned man. He looked at his nemesis one last time before closing his eyes forever.

Ravanan Sequel - 1

2010-06-25T23:29:00.003+05:30

I saw Ravanan yesterday night and ever since I came out of the movie hall, I had been wanting to write a sequel to the movie. But why a sequel to this movie? I was inspired by Mani Rathnam’s audacity in portraying traditionally accepted good characters with negative shades. Such multi-hued lead characters are typical of Mani ( Nayagan, Dalapathi are a few movies in the same league). Also, the show Prison Break had a big impact on me. The show lived on the kind of thing that I am attempting to do.

(I know it's really long for a blog post, but since the story is a known one, reading this shouldn't be a problem)

For the sake of interesting reading, I will name the characters as follow,

Aishwarya Rai – Aishwarya

Vikram – Veera

Prithviraj – Dev

Prabhu – Prabhu

Karthik - Sanjeev

My adaptation starts from the scene where Veera falls from the cliff. He is hit by several bullets, but is smiling as he falls down. He is not yet dead and Prabhu is waiting at the bottom of the cliff with the villagers, all holding a well spread net to catch Veera.

Veera lands on the net, the fall made him unconscious. But Prabhu could sense pulse in Veera’s hands and took him for treatment. He could not believe that Aishwarya would come back just to kill Veera, and help her husband settle score. He vowed to strike back at her some day.

Aishwarya was devastated. She could not believe that Dev would use her like that and get back at Veera. She didn’t know if she had to feel happy for her husband or sad for Veera or feel disgusted for being used like a pawn. As the smoke from the gun shots cleared, Dev ran towards Aishwarya and hugged her. He whispered in her ears, “I came for you”. If I didn’t do this, he would come back and get you once again”. He looked into her eyes with all the love in the world, hoping to see at least some of it in her. What he saw was a plain and a bland reaction.

Aishwarya had been through a lot over the last few days. Her world changed from being snow white to shades of black and white, interspersed with no apparent meaning. She had strongly hated Veera till a few days back. But the side of the daredevil that she saw in the last few days, combined with Dev’s harsh words, changed her world for good. The experience made her see black on a white canvass and white in the dark night sky.

The villagers who rescued Veera gave their best in treating him. The bullets were no more in his body. But the bleeding didn’t stop. He needed a special herb located on the other end of the forest. Though he knew where to find the herb, Prabhu needed someone to bring them in a couple of hours else Veera would die of blood loss. Going to the hospital wasn’t an option, as that would only risk Veera’s life. So Prabhu walked to the forest officer’s building. He knew that the one man who could bring the herbs quickly was inside.

Officer Sanjeev, always had a liking for Veera. But he felt that Veera had crossed the line by kidnapping the wife of police officer Dev. So, it took Prabhu some time to convince Sanjeev to get the herbs. Sanjeev didn’t like helping Prabhu, but couldn’t go against the word of the head of the village, where he had to live. Reluctantly, he agreed. And in less than an hour, he fetched the herbs from the plant Sanjeevi and gave them to Prabhu. He knew that Veera would be alive with these herbs and so had to inform the developments to one other person.

Dev and Aishwarya had re-started their lives. The last two months were hard for them as a couple. But they fought their way through the travails. Aishwarya immersed herself in dance. And Dev encouraged her. He thought that dance was the ideal distraction for her to bury the past. But Dev, though he never followed Aishwarya’s dance, started noticing the increasingly dark themes that Aishwarya started to present. He got a feeling that he was losing her for good. He had come to know that Veera had survived the shoot-out, but couldn’t find him anywhere. To the outside world, Veera was dead. Only the villagers in the forest, Sanjeev and he knew that Veera was alive. He was wondering if Aishwarya also knew.

Enter Veera:

In a cave, deep inside the forest, Veera sat with Prabhu alongside him. Veera was recovering well but the gun-shots and the poor medical care made his body weak. But Veera fed on a new kind of strength, one that was previously unknown to him. The strength of conviction made Veera look more majestic than before. Previously he was just a soldier fighting for the down-trodden. Now he was a crusader; someone who had a purpose and a cause to fight for. The happiness that he derived when he saw Aishwarya before being shot, kept him going through all the pain and suffering. He remembered her saying that she wanted to stay with him before he set her free. Aishwarya’s presence on the cliff subsequently led him to conclude whatever he had in his mind. He was pretty sure that she would never be happy with Dev again, after the way he manipulated her. Veera was waiting to be up on his feet once again and bring Aishwarya back. To him, her life with Dev now, was the same as her life with him for those fourteen days. She lived under his captivity during that time. Now she lived in society’s captivity – a married woman had no choice but to live with her husband, even though it she didn’t like it. Veera was not the one to care much for society. He was waiting for the right time to strike. The hunter became the hunted and vice versa. The strange quirks of fate had made everyone circumstantial criminals.

(The plot is in the next post, click here)

A Case of Karma & Animal Instinct

2010-05-19T19:23:00.001+05:30

For as long as I could remember, I used to crib about my life’s failures to my parents. I used to complain about how I could have become a successful cricketer, if only I had pursued it. I grumbled about how despite being a smart student, a good college and a good job had eluded me. I always felt that I never got my due in life. Whenever good things happened to others, the grumpy old man in my 20 year old body opened up to my parents.

My parents dealt with this very calmly. They never felt I was any less of an achiever than the people around me. They were staunch Hindus, the kind who never get perturbed about results but keep doing their job. My father kept telling me that Karma was the reason why good things eluded me and kept urging me not to worry. But his explanation of Karma did little to reassure the grumpy old man in me. My father had the habit of reading the scriptures to search for an answer to life’s problems but my belief system was different from his and consequently, I found no solace in either his words or books. But all this changed on the day Julie gave birth.

A few months ago, my nine year old cousin, Varshika, stayed with us for a week during her summer vacation. She was crazy about pets and somehow befriended animals within moments of interacting with them. Her most famous conquest is a deer, when she was living in Japan. One afternoon during her stay with us, she saw a cat running in the backyard and within a few minutes she was feeding milk to it. She even named her Julie. For the brief period of her stay, Varshika played with Julie all day. My parents and I never got close though. We were too uptight to let it come close to us. Julie found herself a safe place in our portico and kept showing up everyday. When Varshika returned to Bangalore, she had left us with a hungry cat that kept running around our legs.

Neither my parents nor I liked pets. We were too involved in our lives to provide an animal a proper home. But Julie left us with no other option but to take care of it. My mother’s job was starting to squeeze her but still she found time to feed Julie with milk every morning and night. Julie realized this and came to our home only when we were about to feed it. This worked for us, as we didn’t have to take care of it, but still had the joy of feeding it.

Meanwhile, Varshika’s constant pestering for a pet bore fruit. Her parents got her a well bred dog. Varshika named her Willow. Willow was the cynosure of their family’s life. She had the liberty to lick her masters and defecate anywhere in the house. She was a part of their family.

After a few months, at about the same time, both Willow and Julie were to become mothers. Julie returned to the portico and kept running there all day. She used to leap at us whenever we entered home, apparently in need of love. She had developed a rash on one of her legs. Though we wanted to take her to a vet, we never found the time or interest to do so. My mom had lost her job by this time and was terribly upset. Though she was too depressed to respond to Julie’s changed situation, she never stopped feeding her twice a day. After a few days, Julie’s excitement also reduced but she had made her home in our portico.

Willow, meanwhile was living the high life. Her nutritious vegetarian diet would have been the envy of most dogs. My aunt took her to a vet every week for vaccination shots. Varshika even took pictures of pregnant Willow and uploaded them on Orkut.

As time passed, Julie probably realized that she was due any day and start scouting for a place inside our house. We drove her out every time she came in. Sometimes we had to lift her up and drop her off in the portico. We didn’t like ourselves for it, but there was no way we could start sheltering her now. It would be a bigger responsibility with the kittens due shortly. On a particular Friday night, she was last seen when we were feeding her. Her playful moan had gotten coarse over the last few weeks.

Julie didn’t turn up on Saturday morning for milk. She was nowhere to be seen for the whole day. We assumed that she had found a safe place to give birth but didn’t know where. When I returned from work on Saturday evening, I was shocked to see Julie with six tiny kittens under my bed. My room was located on the first floor and the door was closed all day. Somehow she had found a way to enter through the open window and ensconce herself in what must have been the only safe location she knew. The sight of the once playful Julie, now looking scared made me feel happy and sad at the same time. She was clinging onto us, even though we never gave it proper care.

The sight of Julie covering the kittens with her body and looking at me with fear in her eyes made me wonder about the difference in the lives of Willow and Julie; both domestic animals and equally worthy of love. In our case we didn’t give Julie the perfect setting for giving birth, but my cousin showered Willow with all the love in the world. Why didn’t we do more to look after Julie, even when we had been seeing Willow all along? Somewhere here, I was able to draw a parallel between my life and Julie’s. I had been constantly cribbing about not getting my due in life. My father always said that it was because of Karma but I never bought that. But when I juxtapose the image of a scared Julie protecting its kittens from the people of the very house it had chosen, and the image of Willow returning from the vet, I could think of Karma being the only reason for the difference. After that, my dad’s words sounded a little better than blah blah blah.

Julie is now safe with all her six kittens. We tucked her into a cardboard box underneath the stairs. We still feed her twice a day. No, we do not plan to raise them. When the kittens grow up a little bit and are able to defend themselves from stray dogs, we plan to let them run off.

Passion. Nothing more, Nothing Less.

2010-05-07T18:44:00.004+05:30

Very often I am plagued by the question of how a certain Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar is able to achieve such dizzying heights of success. I know many people, including you perhaps, who are looking for an answer to this. I will attempt to de-mystify the enigma that Sachin is.

First of all, I don't believe that people are born with a natural flair for something. The phrase, 'it's in his genes', is just another way of saying 'I don't know how'. There are no born geniuses in this world. What you are is a direct function of what you set out to achieve. In other words Sachin was not naturally endowed with the fine art of batting. In fact, I would say that Sachin as a child was not endowed with anything special. He had a typical middle class upbringing, no rich and influential parents as well. So what made that small kid from Mumbai achieve so much when stars around him (Ganguly and Dravid) shown brightly once but faded away slowly. Why was he alone able to survive, despite passing though rough phases and career-threatening injuries? It’s passion; a kind that is pure, undiluted by stardom and fame. It's the same kind of passion that Shakespeare would have felt when he visualized Romeo falling in love with Juliet. It's the kind that Gandhi had for this nation.

Vinod Kambli and Sachin Tendulkar are two glaring examples of this passion. While the former lost his passion half way through his career, Sachin sustained his. And this is a hard job to do also. The mere job of padding up all your life and not knowing anything but batting will scare most of us. It's that mind of his that I wish to salute. How on earth does he get the drive to do it? It's a spot that none of us have a clue about, because we have never been there. And that is why a certain MS Dhoni is the next best thing we have to Sachin. I genuinely believe that Dhoni has the strongest mind after Sachin.

Dhoni, more starkly proves that talent and flair are highly over rated. With highly questionable wicket-keeping and batting skills, he has taken the world by storm. His grey-matter made Dhoni a great captain. And Tendulkar's grey-matter made him a class batsman.

In hindsight, it's cricket's fortune that Sachin chose batting as his passion. It's certainly been a gift to live in his generation and watch him for real. There will be a time, not too far in the future, when people will regret for not having seen him at work.

When A Guy And A Girl Are 3 Feet Apart, Mayhem Prevails.

2010-04-30T11:46:00.005+05:30

Several things go on in a guy’s mind when he looks at a girl. But here is what I found out today, the craziness

of the guy’s thoughts is inversely proportional to the distance from the girl. And at a magic distance of 3 feet, the guy becomes philosophically unbearable for friends near him.

When a guy spots a girl a good 15 feet away, he has seen her for a long enough period before the 3 feet mark. So, his craziness is correspondingly lower. When the distance reduces to 3 feet, the guy has enough composure to hold his thoughts together. But when a guy starts seeing a girl at a much closer distance, mayhem prevails. Here is what happened to me today.

Memories of the mystery girl, who made me write one of my previous articles (click here to read it), were slowly fading away. It’s been a few weeks since I last saw her. But I met her today, as I was walking out to have lunch.

I saw her when she was about 5 feet away from me. I didn't recognize her at first; she was wearing a pant and a shirt. Every time I had seen her before, she was wearing something ethnic. So the first of those precious 5 feet was gone in finding out if it was actually her.

At a distance of 4 feet, her stately walk and the artificial mannerism that she puts on when she sees me, struck me. I loved the way she had done her hair today. Another foot gone.

Now, at that magic distance of 3 feet, there was nothing that I could do prevent nature’s forces. In hindsight, I only pity my friends.

It was not easy for me to stare at her in an obvious way when she was that close. So I tried to look straight pretending not to have noticed her at all. But as it always happens, I ended up watching her from the corner of my eye and I am pretty sure that she noticed it as well. And she gazed at me for that fraction of a second, and wham…! Eureka.

The magic of the 3 feet mark needs to be examined. In that zone all it needed was a single gaze from her to lead me to a place where I would have never gone otherwise. I could sense the increase in blood flowing into my brain. Only such a high volume of blood in my brain could have made me wonder on something as crazy as this – do women, in general (and she, in particular) get beautiful over time or are they simply born beautiful. If I had this thought at any distance outside the 3 feet mark, I would have laughed at myself on the inanity of the question. If only I had told it to a friend, he would have punched me in my face and brought me back to normalcy. But since neither happened, I needed an answer.

The distance reduced to 2 feet. Still no answer. In another second she would have gone past me, and I could pretend that none of this ever happened. But at that instant I needed an answer. The amount of brain storming that I did in this single second still continues to baffle me. Here’s what I came up with.

• Exhibit A, Hair - Liked the way she had styled it today. But I was pretty sure it would have been just as great if she had done it in any other way.

• Exhibit B, Eyes - Looked great with the eye-liner. But the eyes are something that you cannot feign, WSIWYH (What you see is what you have).

• Exhibit C, Sharp, pointed nose - No debate here. It's either there or not there. She had it.

• Exhibit D, The graceful walk - you can't pretend this as well. And it was there.

• Exhibit E, ….

Suddenly, the blood flow seemed to stop. I looked around and she was gone. I was out of the 3 feet zone. And I had an answer. The score was 4 to nil and I had found what I wanted!

After a few more steps, I regained my composure. I pretended as if nothing happened and strutted along. But there was an uneasy silence prevailing. As I turned around, one of my friends asked me, “What was that crap all about. Do you know what you were saying?”. Oho.. Had I been talking aloud all along?!!.

Honorary Chennai Citizenship for Dhoni

2010-04-26T12:06:00.007+05:30

The Chennai Super Kings have lifted the IPL trophy for the first time, and as a CSK fan, I couldn’t be more overjoyed. Beyond doubt, MS Dhoni is the man behind the team's success. His uncanny knack of extracting the best out of his team has made CSK the most reliable team in the IPL so far. There is no doubt that he will be retained by the CSK management for season four also.

This joyous occasion calls for some unprecedented celebrations. Yes, there will be a grand reception at the airport, a parade across the city streets and a huge party. Fans will lap up every bit of the scoop on how grand the party was and which player got lucky that night. And in a couple of days the tide will pass and the euphoria will die away. Life will be back to normal and we will forget that this ever happened. What a travesty, that our style of celebration belittles the achievement. Do we celebrate like how cave men celebrate a rich haul of wild animals?

To set this right, we must confer an honorary citizenship on the heroes who are increasingly defining Chennai's indomitable spirit. Henceforth, Dhoni should be known as an Honorary Citizen of Chennai. A public function should be organized by none less than the mayor and a plaque conferring citizenship should be presented to him. As a dashing youngster, he caught the imagination of die hard cricket fans and now as a mature statesman, he has won the praise of others too. Similarly, Suresh Raina, Mathew Hayden and Doug Bollinger too should be conferred with this distinction.

Let us celebrate in style and not let fancy parties alone get the better of our desire to honour the players. A recognition like this may not mean anything on paper. But the joy the players derive in being loved is the best that a progressive society like ours could offer to true sportsmanship. Truly global cities like Paris have this set a precedent for honouring achievers in this way. Chennai should take a cue from this and honour its players in a way that will last for long time.

These players deserve our love. It is our motivation that will make them go onto the field for the next time, knowing that the hearts of thousands beat in sync with theirs.

From A CSK Fan

2010-04-15T12:29:00.013+05:30

It was a treasured Saturday morning. I woke up at Eleven Thirty, only because the heat from sun outside my air-conditioned room made the 1.5 tonne LG split AC useless. Welcome to life in Chennai. It's hot nearly at all times of the year. The heat can sap even the last drop of fluid from a perfect black body. For those not living in Chennai, here is a quick briefing. Chennai is super hot (climate, please - no pun intended), has a lot of unwritten rules for social behaviour (a.k.a boy-girl interaction) with hardly anyone transgressing these, making moral policing obsolete. Cheer leaders are planning to wear Kanchipuram silk sarees from the next season. Actor Vijay is the best we could manage for our IPL team's brand ambassador, and our definition of fun during a match starts and ends with Sivamani banging on the snare drum for everything from the toss to the presentation ceremony. For a guy from Delhi or Mumbai, living in Chennai would seem like God's ways of punishing him. Chennai is not the easiest of cities to live in - nothing much for the teenagers to boast off, or cause envy to their cousins living in other parts of India, except for the board exam marks in Class XII.

About me - I work for an IT company. And they do a good job of sucking out the juices from a man's life (almost making the sun irrelevant). Weekends are the only time I get to take off and relish myself in some indulgences. Anyway, as I finished brunch, I recollected the most important work I had for the day - an IPL match at 4PM, Chennai Vs Rajasthan. The very thought of the match got me up and kicking. God, I love the IPL.

I knew that the excitement in the stadium would build up from 3 PM onwards and so rushed to get ready. What work did I have for me to start rushing 3 hours before time? Well, IT life leaves little room for niceties like a hair-cut or a shave. Weekend is the only time, a man dare dream of such a thing. And I had to beat the Saturday crowd at the salon. It took me a couple of hours to get out of the salon, and needless to say, the pain of getting a shave while sweating (despite the AC) left me looking forward to almost nothing but more sleep. But the thought of seeing Dhoni and team put up a show helped me beat that thought. I rushed home and stuffed a banner and a bandana in my bag and left for the ground.

As I walked into the stadium at 3.30 P.M. Ravi Shastri was finishing the pitch report and Dhoni and Warne were walking to the center for toss. The crowd went berserk. The atmosphere around us was charged up instantly by a few thousand volts. Captain Dhoni won the toss and had decided to bat first. Sitting from the stands it’s not possible to find out what happened at the toss. But when Dhoni walked up to talk first, Chennai fans screamed their lungs out. The good thing about the Chennai crowd is that we know our Cricket (We have the unique distinction of awarding a Pakistani player with a standing ovation!). If Dhoni talked first, he must have won the toss. No guessing what CSK would do first. In a few minutes, Murali Vijay and Mathew Hayden charged into the ground. The sight of seeing them charging in like that gave me goose bumps. Sweet lord, new realms of pleasure!

As the start neared, I gathered my breath and looked around the ground. It was almost painted in yellow. The TNCA's over-swelled coffers were finally making a difference. The stands and the electronic score-boards looked sparkling new. The old electronic big screen near the pavilion stand had given way to a new one with bright lights. And it no more carried a Poompuhar Banian ad on it. The IPL was giving the stadium a long-due make over. Fans were pulling out banners and charts with crazy things on them. I pulled out mine and found the words to be as stupid as the ones on the banner next to mine. It felt great to be watching a match like this. Forget the heat, forget the moribund IT life, and forget the crass sounds from Sivamani's drums. Let's not even look at the cheer girls. (Oops, I just did and found a guy dancing now!) It’s time to let yourself loose and scream louder than anyone around you.

It was then that I realized that it's an awesome feeling to be a CSK fan. Finally Chennai has an identity that is no more idly sambar. Finally we have something to boast off to our cousins and relatives in other cities. We have an awesome team that plays with zest. Dhoni exemplifies this spirit and has made sure that the entire team plays that way. It's great to see the captain backing domestic payers and giving them the opportunity to make a difference. And it's even greater to see the domestic players rise up to the challenge.

As I post this article, CSK have leaped into second position. They may qualify or may not; it doesn’t matter to me. I’m not a CSK fan because of the points table. I’m a fan because they play good cricket and play it with great spirit. Cricket, as in life is not about winning or losing. It's only an honest attempt that matters. CSK is truly substance over style, something that is true of everything that Chennai is all about.

Escapades of the Mind

2010-03-30T12:29:00.001+05:30

My morning today began with the usual chores and I packed off from home to park my bike at the parking lot from where I catch my bus to office. This is my daily routine and is a monotonous one. Pack my bag, park my bike, board the bus, take a nap and swipe in at office. But today morning was different. As I parked my bike and walked to the stop, I saw a beautiful girl standing by the shade of a tree. She looked pretty in a green top and blue jean, with a pair of matching dangling ear-rings. Her fair skin tone made her stand out of the crowd. On seeing her, my heart skipped a beat. Wow. It felt good. Wish I knew her name, where she was from and where her desk was. I have seen her before several times at the same place. I even know that she works in my office. But she was never this sparkling.

My gush of emotions was interrupted by the arrival of the bus and by this time she had noticed my glances. And she didn’t frown or turn away. Good. But the perennial pessimist in me was telling me that there were several people looking at her, and she probably didn’t turn away because people were ogling at her from all sides. Hmm. Somehow guys lose their mind when a girl is around. When the bus stopped, she walked in and sat in a 3-seater. I walked past her and sat in the row just behind her’s. After everyone boarded the bus, she suddenly got up and looked back for a moment and searched for someone. It was me. She looked at me in the eye. And for that brief moment our eyes met, and she sat down looking a little awkward after others in the bus started looking at her. Perhaps she wanted me to sit next to her. Damn. I didn’t realize it.

Nothing much happened over the next hour. I was not able to look at her for the entire journey and neither was she. As soon as the bus stopped inside office, she got down and walked away. I followed her quickly. But now we were inside office and she wasn’t as interested as before. When a man is nearby, women lose their mind if other women are nearby. Life!! She noticed me coming towards her and she walked briskly. Hmm. This was going down hill.

As we neared the cafeteria, she walked in to it. I had to go to my desk. She noticed me walking in a different direction and turned around, and glanced at me. Again for a few minutes our eyes met. Wow. Nothing happened beyond that, but it still felt good. I felt light when she walked past the door with a smile on her lips.

A great way to begin my morning, I thought; a pretty looking girl responding to my glances. That’s a great feeling for any guy. What a nice sun shine, I was thinking when I was walking down the pathway. As I turned around, I saw another girl dressed elegantly, smiling and waving her hands. Her slimy, long hands and the shape of her fingers in motion made her look very graceful and elegant. Under the bright sun her skin shone radiantly. My heart fluttered for a few seconds; she blew me away in an instant. I looked at her for a few seconds and then looked at the door where I last saw the girl from the bus, laughed at myself and walked away.

Whom Are You Really Fooling?

2010-03-24T12:55:00.005+05:30

Swami Nithyand's alleged a relationship with an actress seems to be a burning topic in Chennai. (All things seen in the video are assumed to be true, any believers who still refute it, do not continue reading) Was this a case of fraud or intrusion into a private man's life? What place do such God-Men have in our constantly evolving society? What yardsticks should we use to judge them and their actions?

To understand the role of God-Men it is imperative to revisit the concept of God. God, as per theists is all encompassing. He is omnipresent and omniscient. We believe God to be a statue, a cross, a wall or fire. But if you break open any of these you will find nothing but stones or bricks. So does that mean that the hallowed symbols of religion mean nothing? No. The meaning here is deeper. When you prostrate before an idol, what you are doing is actually giving form to God and praying. What stops us from worshipping anything else as God? To God, a piece of cow dung is as good as a celebrated idol. So wouldn't cow dung be enough for worship?

The answer to that lies in us, our society and not with God. We needed elaborate procedures and rituals and sophisticated scriptures so that an institution could be built out of something really simple. Now, is this desire to institutionalize and streamline religion correct?

Take the example of cricket. It started as a group of men playing to please themselves. But it caught the imagination of many and soon an organization was needed to further the cause of the game. Thus the BCCI was needed. Is it possible to imagine something like the IPL happening without an organization like BCCI and isn't cricket benefitting from IPL? For the same reason, religions were needed. Hinduism, Christianity, Islam and other religions are nothing but organizations to further the same cause.

Since we have now equated Hinduism to an institution, some organizational code of conduct is needed. After all, an organization is only as good as its functioning. The point to be noted is that God didn't need this code of conduct, only the religion needed it. People claiming to be a part of the religion needed it, not the others. Celibacy was established as a code for all God-Men.

And there we have arrived at why Swami Nithyanand's actions do not behoove a man of religion. A worshipper of God without the constrictions of religion would have been excused for such philandering (Sarvam Brahmam - Everything is God, applies here) but not a man who claims himself to be a Hindu religious swami.

To sum it up, the Swami's actions are wrong from a religious stand point. Analyzing the whole issue from a spiritual stand point might give a different conclusion. But since, I am focusing only on the religious aspect I will not comment on it.

As a society we need to be wary of such men who don't meet the standards that are set to them. This issue is a case in point.

Name the Problem

2010-03-23T07:42:00.005+05:30

Every time I go for grocery shopping, I can never leave by avoiding the following conversation. This happens with the guy at billing counter. "What's the name sir, Bias..?? Oh sorry, Riaz? Illanga, Vyas, V-Y-A-S. Ok va?

I was christened as M. Sree Seshadri Vyas. A really long name, 16 characters to be precise. Obviously, like most parents, mine had strong religious reasons behind the name. And it worked well for me till a certain age. But as I grew up, I faced a few issues.

The downside of having such a name is that it acts as a barrier in making new friends and meeting new people. People have to make the extra effort to remember my name. And, let's face it, no one has the time or patience for it. Also acting as a hindrance is the usual stereo-types that we associate with names. It somehow beats me, how we always think of Rahuls to be smart, Johns to be fun loving, Priyas and Divyas to be cute and how Senthamizh Selvis always walk around with a flower shop on their heads. So who's a Vyas, hmm well, he didn't look smart, wasn't funny and didn't talk much. Didn't make a good impression. I think this guy is weird ..!! And a Rahul walks away with a poor joke for which only he managed to laugh. Doesn't matter if he spilled some juice on the guy sitting next to him. He's a Rahul, must have been a genuine mistake.

There were some times when people mis-spelled my name in utterly funny ways (unintentionally of-course) and I had lost all strength to correct them. There was a cricket coach of mine, who used to call me Sree Seshadri 'Iyer' for 2 years. Finally he corrected it by himself. I simply wasn't brave enough to walk to him, in front of all, and tell him that he was getting it wrong.

But here is the bottom line, I like my name a lot. It may not me a fancy sounding ultra-cool name, but is still good. I'm proud of the reasons behind me being named this way. People will just have to make the extra effort to remember it. Period.

And on the lighter side, the fun part of having a unique name is that you can google your name and have fun reading what comes up about you. Now can a Rahul ever dream of such a thing. There will be a thousand different people with the same name. Hahaa.. One up mate.

No More - "No More Girls Gang"

2010-03-18T17:23:00.006+05:30

There are very few incidents in a man's life that change life upside down. One such incident happened to me last week.

For the better part of college life I was a member of the "No More Girls Gang" (henceforth "NMGG"). As the name suggests, we swore against the very act of a boy falling in love with a girl. We had some very strong ground rules; never look at the same girl for more than 10 minutes, never stay in the same place if the girl looks at you for more than 10 minutes, are some I can remember now. And I liked life that way. But a bus ride last week, shook the very foundations of that life. A simple, almost nothing of a ride made me question myself in a way like never before. Consequently, there are two guys inside me now. They are quite literally tearing me apart, fighting on every issue. First is the old guy, speaking of what I believed were eternal truths. And the other is this new guy, looking at life differently (with a little bit more sense, I hope).

The incident happened to me when I was riding to work. This girl who commutes with me on the same bus, made me question the very existence of the NMGG fraternity. To cut a long story short, her mystic gazes simply put an end to the NMGG. So, when I decided to shut down the operations of the gang, the two guys in me demanded space on this blog.

Here goes...

(The words in italics and in brackets are from the old guy. The others, from the new one)

Last week, with heavy heart I decided to stop the NMGG's activities. The reason; its last loyal member (yours truly) recently had an unexpected change of heart. (This guy is crazy, don't believe him)

A little bit of history here. The "No-More Girls Gang" was formed by a group of disillusioned bachelors in my college (True Revolutionists). The gang boasted of heavy following in the testosterone charged and estrogen starved college of mine. Of course, that's a little bit over the top (No way!). But for its followers these words were gospel truth. But as college life progressed, one by one, the members started leaving (Those b*st*rds). And by the end, the once sought after gang was reduced to a single man force. Its operations and weekly meetings were held and attended, at the same time, by me (Bravo..!). There have been occasions when I had to introduce myself as the keynote speaker, deliver a breathtaking speech and clap in the end too. My commitment to the cause was beyond nature's compulsions. Or so I thought.

Last week when I was riding a bus to office, I met this girl who quite literally blew me off. (What???!!! An innocuous bus ride brought to end a major social movement? Someone better alert the police. This is sabotage). I don't know her name, don't know where she lives, worse still, I haven't heard her voice, but still I'm willing to abandon a cause so close to my heart? I know I am crazy (Yeah, you are). But this is something I like and I can't restrict myself by being tied to the past. Yes, the NMGG was truly revolutionary (Now, we are talking dude...). It brought about irreversible changes in the lives of many people, for which I am proud off. But the time has come now. One last hurrah for the "No More Girls Gang" (What the F***). This is it guys. See you on the other side (To hell with you, any volunteers..??? Come on guys... Oh, God No...).

Teaching Thiago-Roger (Thiagarajar) Songs!

2010-03-15T13:55:00.004+05:30

Yesterday, I was toying with the idea of starting a music school. And phew. What an exhausive routine it was, just working out the details. A lot of demographic and logistical issues peculiar to the current state of music in India, (Tamil Nadu) make this worthy of writing.

My exposure to music comes from lsitening to carnatic music. As a kid, I ran away at the first possible opportunity to escape from sitting through a kutcheri. But as I grew up, the hallowed principles of carnatic music struck me. So my first preference was to start a carnatic music school. But let’s face it - carnatic music and anything associated with it is terribly under-valued. People don't mind paying Rs 200 per class for learning Guitar, but hesitate to pay the same for learning Veena.

So I decided that in order to be commercially successful, I had to start a session for Western Music also. But the logistics for such a venture would puzzle most. People coming to learning carnatic expect to see photos of the Trinity hanging over their heads. It makes no improvement to their singing, but still they want it. But teaching Western in such an ambience would be like asking the Queen of England to have Idly for breakfast. It's like mixing chalk and cheese.

But it is this ambitious venture that I have decided to embark upon. No, I don't have any clue as to how to make it work. But may be if I think it through, I will get an idea. Maybe. (Am I just pleasing the optimist in me?)

A final word, before I sign off: Music has become so common today and it is totally unstructured. Ad-hoc center's are mushrooming all over town and reality singing shows are driving parents to force children to attend such classes. Combine this with the fact that carnatic music is woefully anachronistic and you have the perfect recipe for commotion. And that's the state of music.