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

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

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

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

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.

Name the Problem

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"

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!

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.