Hello World! Guess who’s back after a llllllong period of hibernation :) And what motivates me to scribble something after so long? I’m on a plane from Delhi to Bangalore. Let me paint the picture in case you haven’t figured out what I’m going through. A 150 minute flight, cramped seats with virtually no ‘leg room’, no internet (damn!), no movies on my laptop, no ‘in-flight entertainment’ (budget airlines rock!).
Come on, life ain’t all that bad – the seat next to me is empty, so I can stretch a little (thank God for small mercies). Above all, I’ve got Microsoft Word . Yeah Baby!
So here’s a list of some observations about air travel that make me go “Hmmmmmm”:
1) You are ‘supposed’ to keep your cell phones off while you’re in the plane. Cell phones are not dangerous enough to be confiscated. Unlike cell phones, knives are not allowed on the plane (ofcourse, with a polite warning about refraining from using them). Conclusion: President of the ‘knives’ club’ can sue airlines for discrimination
2) Some people use flying time to do ‘office work’. Some people peep into other peoples’ laptops while they’re doing their ‘office work’. Some people watch movies. Some people watch other people watch movies. I’m pretty sure I’m the only ‘sky-blogger’ around. Conclusion: Microsoft Word scores heavily over PowerPoint, Excel or any media player :)
3) I’ve given up on any of the following happening to me while on a plane:
a. A pretty girl sitting next to me
b. A non-male sitting next to me!
c. Getting a genuine smile from a hostess
d. Willingness to believe that there’s such a thing as the mile high club (as a result of a, b and c!)
e. Getting a decent meal
f. My check-in luggage showing up first on the conveyer belt, after landing
g. Airlines being apologetic about 15 minute delays
h. Not snorting while watching the hilarious live ‘safety demo’ being provided by the cabin crew
i. The battery of my laptop lasting the full duration of the flight :)
Conclusion: Air travel is not all that bad! At least not half as bad as this post. After plummeting to these new depths, the results of my future attempts at any form of literature (basically blogging) are expected to go in only one direction – skywards! Cheers to air travel!
I really hope to keep posting stuff more regularly henceforth!
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Thursday, May 29, 2008
United We Stand - Fans, Fans, Fans.
Football fans, read on. Others, better luck next time :-)
I’ve been a fan of Manchester United ever since I started following football seriously as a teenager. Needless to say, I was over the moon when they did the coveted ‘double’ this season. I could go on and on about the laurels, the trophies and the history of the club, but that’s what Messrs Wikipedia are for.
Let us talk about the fans – they are the real backbone of any club. To me, a true football fan is like a dog – loving yet demanding, faithful yet fidgety. He gives his all and expects much less in return, sticks by his team through thick and thin, watches every match like it’s a matter of life and death. One look at the majestic stadium at Old Trafford, and you’ll know why it’s known as the theatre of dreams. The faithful flock the stadium, expecting nothing less than a convincing win for the home side. Admittedly, the beer-guzzling, prawn-sandwich-eating fans of United are among the better behaved and docile in the premiership. But boy, can they intimidate the opposition if needed.
If all this doesn’t turn you on, maybe you are not a football fan. But don’t lose hope yet, there’s a little something for everybody here. Let us say you are an average heterosexual male, who isn’t interested in watching 22 other men running after a giant round object. Turn your attention to the hoards of female fans at Old Trafford. Sure, Chelsea or Arsenal have more glamorous/fashionable/cosmopolitan fans. But are you suggesting that you wouldn’t go weak in the knees when you hear a female fan scream “Manchsta Unaitid Fubol Kloob” in her Lancastrian accent? Gentlemen, start your engines!
It’s hardly surprising that watching United play Arsenal at Old Trafford remains one of the top items on my ‘bucket list’. I hope to be there soon, but until then, as a true United fan would say “Lets party like it’s ‘99”. Go United!
I’ve been a fan of Manchester United ever since I started following football seriously as a teenager. Needless to say, I was over the moon when they did the coveted ‘double’ this season. I could go on and on about the laurels, the trophies and the history of the club, but that’s what Messrs Wikipedia are for.
Let us talk about the fans – they are the real backbone of any club. To me, a true football fan is like a dog – loving yet demanding, faithful yet fidgety. He gives his all and expects much less in return, sticks by his team through thick and thin, watches every match like it’s a matter of life and death. One look at the majestic stadium at Old Trafford, and you’ll know why it’s known as the theatre of dreams. The faithful flock the stadium, expecting nothing less than a convincing win for the home side. Admittedly, the beer-guzzling, prawn-sandwich-eating fans of United are among the better behaved and docile in the premiership. But boy, can they intimidate the opposition if needed.
If all this doesn’t turn you on, maybe you are not a football fan. But don’t lose hope yet, there’s a little something for everybody here. Let us say you are an average heterosexual male, who isn’t interested in watching 22 other men running after a giant round object. Turn your attention to the hoards of female fans at Old Trafford. Sure, Chelsea or Arsenal have more glamorous/fashionable/cosmopolitan fans. But are you suggesting that you wouldn’t go weak in the knees when you hear a female fan scream “Manchsta Unaitid Fubol Kloob” in her Lancastrian accent? Gentlemen, start your engines!
It’s hardly surprising that watching United play Arsenal at Old Trafford remains one of the top items on my ‘bucket list’. I hope to be there soon, but until then, as a true United fan would say “Lets party like it’s ‘99”. Go United!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
A Mid Summer Night’s Dream
Elvis is back, back in the building, with a resolve to write more often.
Saturday was Election Day in Bangalore. The roads had a deserted look and it seemed like responsible citizens were cooling their heels at home after having cast their votes. The slightly irresponsible ones chose to stay indoors as well. Why? Well, maybe it had something to do with the fact that it was a dry day.
Let me set the scene more elaborately. Imagine a bunch of 5-6 bored souls. I’m talking about a close-knit gang of mechanical engineers who spent 4 amazing years together at college. They are now in their mid to late 20s - some on the verge of tying the knot, some far from it. But all of them have a common thread running. They dream big, hate routine, get bugged with monotony and they all swing between the responsible/irresponsible categories, depending on the direction of the wind.
Now here’s a series of no-brainers, if ever there was one:
What do you think happens when old pals like these get together on a quiet Saturday night, with nothing much to do? Do you think they would get a little twitchy? Hell yeah.
So what does it take to turn this yoga class kind of setting into a rock concert? Not much really. A car, some stocked ‘refreshments’ and G’s room - equipped with guitars, a music system, a computer and an awesome balcony. A fridge would have been the icing on the cake, but we were more than happy to ignore the minor inconvenience.
What followed that night is anybody’s guess. Philosophical discussions squeezed in between loads of trash talk. Politics (keeping in tune with the day’s proceedings), sport, the environment – you name it. It was almost as if the exuberance of youth (creative use of the phrase) was making a statement on democracy’s showcase day – we are FREE, and we love it. Should there be more to it than just celebrating our freedom, without contributing to its sustenance? Maybe that’s a question for the ‘responsible’ citizens to answer. That night, we were just happy to be there - looking back and looking ahead at the same time, and happy to dream on. Perhaps it is just a matter of time before the winds will blow in the right direction. It’s about time too.
Saturday was Election Day in Bangalore. The roads had a deserted look and it seemed like responsible citizens were cooling their heels at home after having cast their votes. The slightly irresponsible ones chose to stay indoors as well. Why? Well, maybe it had something to do with the fact that it was a dry day.
Let me set the scene more elaborately. Imagine a bunch of 5-6 bored souls. I’m talking about a close-knit gang of mechanical engineers who spent 4 amazing years together at college. They are now in their mid to late 20s - some on the verge of tying the knot, some far from it. But all of them have a common thread running. They dream big, hate routine, get bugged with monotony and they all swing between the responsible/irresponsible categories, depending on the direction of the wind.
Now here’s a series of no-brainers, if ever there was one:
What do you think happens when old pals like these get together on a quiet Saturday night, with nothing much to do? Do you think they would get a little twitchy? Hell yeah.
So what does it take to turn this yoga class kind of setting into a rock concert? Not much really. A car, some stocked ‘refreshments’ and G’s room - equipped with guitars, a music system, a computer and an awesome balcony. A fridge would have been the icing on the cake, but we were more than happy to ignore the minor inconvenience.
What followed that night is anybody’s guess. Philosophical discussions squeezed in between loads of trash talk. Politics (keeping in tune with the day’s proceedings), sport, the environment – you name it. It was almost as if the exuberance of youth (creative use of the phrase) was making a statement on democracy’s showcase day – we are FREE, and we love it. Should there be more to it than just celebrating our freedom, without contributing to its sustenance? Maybe that’s a question for the ‘responsible’ citizens to answer. That night, we were just happy to be there - looking back and looking ahead at the same time, and happy to dream on. Perhaps it is just a matter of time before the winds will blow in the right direction. It’s about time too.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Mediocre Media
Bhaiyya channels are driving me crazy these days. Did I see a few raised eyebrows already? Oh yeah, I don’t blame you for wondering what exactly I mean by ‘bhaiyya channels’. Allow me to explain. Ever seen a headline on a national news channel that goes “Bebo ne Shahid ka dil toda, Chote Nawab ho gaye Bipasha se alag”?? Amazingly, this ain’t one of those harmless little tickers at the bottom of the screen that flashes by, often escaping your attention. It’s in your face. It’s not just a headline, it’s some sort of a special “investigative” report, meant for primetime telecast – to be discussed and dissected by panwaala-like anchors and the most unqualified of guest panels. Jeezus, Mary, Joseph and the Bethlehem carpenters’ union! People, these are national news channels, the operative words being ‘national’ and ‘news’.
Just when you think this may have been a mere passing shower (so to speak), it continues to pour rubbish. The formula seems to be straight forward. Keep it simple, stupid – nothing turns India on like bollywood and cricket. While the programming seems to be backed by good market research, it’s the positioning that’s a mismatch – for the love of God, not on a NEWS channel. It must be difficult to keep viewers glued to the screen when you are a 24 hour news channel (I told Ted Turner that the 24-hour thing was a bad idea :D)….. unless…..unless….. you can generate news that people can use. Did you spot Dhoni and Ms. Padukone walking the ramp together? Bingo! That’s gold dust; just manufacture a headline out of it – “Can Dhoni bowl this maiden over??” WINK WINK ... Piece of cake :-)
Traditionally, politics used to be the opium of the masses and hence content revolved primarily around political news and discussions. But that’s history, the youth no longer seem to give a rat’s a$$ about who’s winning and losing elections. They seem more interested in knowing which bollywood star is dating whom and why sledging the Australians is a good idea! I don’t blame the media entirely for trying to keep up with shifting consumer tastes; after all, I’ve had my fair share of laughs too, courtesy the “news”. In fact, why the hell do I sound like I’m cribbing about this whole thing? I just love it. So much so, that a few bhaiyya channels have been duly added to the RED button on my remote, which is meant for favorites :-) Dinner tastes better with the masala mix that I encounter while flipping through stuff on that red button.
Here are a few more gems, and a typical signoff, from a reporter who brought these to life:
“Bahurani ka pehla janam din, Bachchan pariwar pahuncha Mumbai”
“Aish ne manaya apna pehla karwachauth, kareebi dost bhi the maujoot”
A news anchor to Joginder Sharma’s wife: “Vistaar se bataiye ki shukrawar ki raat Joginder jab ghar launtenge to aap dono kya karenge?” !!!
- Champak Singh, panwaala, Kal Tak!!
Just when you think this may have been a mere passing shower (so to speak), it continues to pour rubbish. The formula seems to be straight forward. Keep it simple, stupid – nothing turns India on like bollywood and cricket. While the programming seems to be backed by good market research, it’s the positioning that’s a mismatch – for the love of God, not on a NEWS channel. It must be difficult to keep viewers glued to the screen when you are a 24 hour news channel (I told Ted Turner that the 24-hour thing was a bad idea :D)….. unless…..unless….. you can generate news that people can use. Did you spot Dhoni and Ms. Padukone walking the ramp together? Bingo! That’s gold dust; just manufacture a headline out of it – “Can Dhoni bowl this maiden over??” WINK WINK ... Piece of cake :-)
Traditionally, politics used to be the opium of the masses and hence content revolved primarily around political news and discussions. But that’s history, the youth no longer seem to give a rat’s a$$ about who’s winning and losing elections. They seem more interested in knowing which bollywood star is dating whom and why sledging the Australians is a good idea! I don’t blame the media entirely for trying to keep up with shifting consumer tastes; after all, I’ve had my fair share of laughs too, courtesy the “news”. In fact, why the hell do I sound like I’m cribbing about this whole thing? I just love it. So much so, that a few bhaiyya channels have been duly added to the RED button on my remote, which is meant for favorites :-) Dinner tastes better with the masala mix that I encounter while flipping through stuff on that red button.
Here are a few more gems, and a typical signoff, from a reporter who brought these to life:
“Bahurani ka pehla janam din, Bachchan pariwar pahuncha Mumbai”
“Aish ne manaya apna pehla karwachauth, kareebi dost bhi the maujoot”
A news anchor to Joginder Sharma’s wife: “Vistaar se bataiye ki shukrawar ki raat Joginder jab ghar launtenge to aap dono kya karenge?” !!!
- Champak Singh, panwaala, Kal Tak!!
Monday, October 29, 2007
Auto Adventures
Let me begin by clarifying coupla things at the outset, for the benefit of the uninitiated:
Ø In Bangalore, u don’t call it a ‘rick’ or a ‘rickshaw’, it’s called an AUTO.
Ø These mean machines (pun intended) are driven by meaner people and powered by anything from adulterated kerosene to aviation fuel that makes a Boeing fly.
Two things can be a PITA in Bangalore - Driving your own car and using public transport. Most bangaloreans therefore do get an ‘opportunity’ (oh, really?) to hire an auto every now and then. To me, it’s just a way of life as I not only hire autos, but also manage to strike interesting conversations with auto drivers. The drivers generally evoke other kinds of reactions from normal customers, ranging from mild disgust to a silent prayer for safety!
The other day I hired an auto from office to a restaurant on airport road where I was meeting a friend for dinner. The driver was an elderly gentleman, so I decided to address him as “Anna”. ‘Guru’ ‘Boss’ and ‘Saar/Sir’ are other accepted alternates, depending on the driver’s age and nature of facial hair (I know what you are thinking. For chrissake, will you grow up!)
After the customary whining (from both sides) about the bad roads and terrible traffic, the conversation moved to the next level. Shivanna (that’s his name) turns back and goes “SAAR, naavu Infosys Narayan Murthy ge driver aagiddvi”. Shivanna has been a professional driver (both Auto and Car) since 1978! Those voices in my brain went “You weren’t even born when he started driving”. I didn’t pay much attention to them though; as Shivanna went on to narrate how he missed out on the stock options that were offered to Infosys employees. Apparently, he quit being Narayan Murthy’s driver just a month before the options were issued. A fellow driver of his happened to be in the right place at the right time and is now a crorepati. A shrug of the shoulders and a “you-can’t-control-your-destiny” look from Shivanna was far too little to hide the obvious disappointment.
Shivanna told me how he takes pride in being a driver, as it is a bit of a family tradition. His dad used to be the Mysore Maharaja’s driver! At that point, I smelt a rat as the story sounded a little made up and decided to casually cross-check by asking which cars the Maharaja owned during those days. Out came the answer in a flash, with accurate details: a ’48 Rolls Royce Silver Wraith and a few Buick, Plymouth and Chevy models that even I now fail to recall! He seemed so well informed about everything around him – IT, BPO and its implication on Bangalore’s economy and culture, sports, politics, youth – basically, anything under the sun. The 40 minute ride on the most crowded of roads seemed like a breeze as I reached my destination. I offered him to keep the change but he wouldn’t. “A good night’s sleep can’t be earned if you don’t earn your bread with dignity, SAAR” – those were his parting words.
Now here’s the proverbial ‘kahani mein twist’. I had to take another auto after dinner that night to reach home. This time, the driver was an obnoxious a$$hole, in his early 20s, demanding outrageous fare on the premise that he won’t get a ride back at that late hour, he stays far from where I was going and that he was tired of driving in traffic!! Holy tajmahal! This shit doesn’t fly with me, I’m street-smarter than them :-) I offered to drive the auto if he was tired (hoo-hah) or find him a customer from my destination (on the condition that my ride would then be free!). After 2 minutes of whining, he agreed to settle for what seemed like a ‘fair price’ and we were on our way. The ride was bumpy and I could sense he was pissed when I made him turn his music system off while I was on the phone. I love to piss such people off anyway, so it worked perfectly for me :-)
Now for the climax. As I reached home, he demanded 20 bucks more than the agreed price, coz the ‘route was longer than he expected’. Well, to put it mildly, I asked him to go take a hike. I mean, jeez, don’t they have brains? I’m a well built man, I know kung fu (to be fair to him, HE doesn’t know that!) and I’m in MY neighborhood. So the odds are heavily staked against him, in the eventuality of a fist fight. In other words, BUWAHAHAHA! :-)
Bottom line is this. I believe that Bangalore’s auto drivers are a ‘representative sample’ of Bangalore’s entire population. The older generation who probably believes in doing things the ‘right way’ and the younger one, to whom it has all come too easy. They are the restless, impatient lot, who’ll do anything for a quick buck. Do they take pride in their work? I doubt it, as I’m one of them too. For me, this was a normal day at the office – discovering and dealing with the good, the bad and the ugly of Bangalore. That’s why I love this city so much :-)
Ø In Bangalore, u don’t call it a ‘rick’ or a ‘rickshaw’, it’s called an AUTO.
Ø These mean machines (pun intended) are driven by meaner people and powered by anything from adulterated kerosene to aviation fuel that makes a Boeing fly.
Two things can be a PITA in Bangalore - Driving your own car and using public transport. Most bangaloreans therefore do get an ‘opportunity’ (oh, really?) to hire an auto every now and then. To me, it’s just a way of life as I not only hire autos, but also manage to strike interesting conversations with auto drivers. The drivers generally evoke other kinds of reactions from normal customers, ranging from mild disgust to a silent prayer for safety!
The other day I hired an auto from office to a restaurant on airport road where I was meeting a friend for dinner. The driver was an elderly gentleman, so I decided to address him as “Anna”. ‘Guru’ ‘Boss’ and ‘Saar/Sir’ are other accepted alternates, depending on the driver’s age and nature of facial hair (I know what you are thinking. For chrissake, will you grow up!)
After the customary whining (from both sides) about the bad roads and terrible traffic, the conversation moved to the next level. Shivanna (that’s his name) turns back and goes “SAAR, naavu Infosys Narayan Murthy ge driver aagiddvi”. Shivanna has been a professional driver (both Auto and Car) since 1978! Those voices in my brain went “You weren’t even born when he started driving”. I didn’t pay much attention to them though; as Shivanna went on to narrate how he missed out on the stock options that were offered to Infosys employees. Apparently, he quit being Narayan Murthy’s driver just a month before the options were issued. A fellow driver of his happened to be in the right place at the right time and is now a crorepati. A shrug of the shoulders and a “you-can’t-control-your-destiny” look from Shivanna was far too little to hide the obvious disappointment.
Shivanna told me how he takes pride in being a driver, as it is a bit of a family tradition. His dad used to be the Mysore Maharaja’s driver! At that point, I smelt a rat as the story sounded a little made up and decided to casually cross-check by asking which cars the Maharaja owned during those days. Out came the answer in a flash, with accurate details: a ’48 Rolls Royce Silver Wraith and a few Buick, Plymouth and Chevy models that even I now fail to recall! He seemed so well informed about everything around him – IT, BPO and its implication on Bangalore’s economy and culture, sports, politics, youth – basically, anything under the sun. The 40 minute ride on the most crowded of roads seemed like a breeze as I reached my destination. I offered him to keep the change but he wouldn’t. “A good night’s sleep can’t be earned if you don’t earn your bread with dignity, SAAR” – those were his parting words.
Now here’s the proverbial ‘kahani mein twist’. I had to take another auto after dinner that night to reach home. This time, the driver was an obnoxious a$$hole, in his early 20s, demanding outrageous fare on the premise that he won’t get a ride back at that late hour, he stays far from where I was going and that he was tired of driving in traffic!! Holy tajmahal! This shit doesn’t fly with me, I’m street-smarter than them :-) I offered to drive the auto if he was tired (hoo-hah) or find him a customer from my destination (on the condition that my ride would then be free!). After 2 minutes of whining, he agreed to settle for what seemed like a ‘fair price’ and we were on our way. The ride was bumpy and I could sense he was pissed when I made him turn his music system off while I was on the phone. I love to piss such people off anyway, so it worked perfectly for me :-)
Now for the climax. As I reached home, he demanded 20 bucks more than the agreed price, coz the ‘route was longer than he expected’. Well, to put it mildly, I asked him to go take a hike. I mean, jeez, don’t they have brains? I’m a well built man, I know kung fu (to be fair to him, HE doesn’t know that!) and I’m in MY neighborhood. So the odds are heavily staked against him, in the eventuality of a fist fight. In other words, BUWAHAHAHA! :-)
Bottom line is this. I believe that Bangalore’s auto drivers are a ‘representative sample’ of Bangalore’s entire population. The older generation who probably believes in doing things the ‘right way’ and the younger one, to whom it has all come too easy. They are the restless, impatient lot, who’ll do anything for a quick buck. Do they take pride in their work? I doubt it, as I’m one of them too. For me, this was a normal day at the office – discovering and dealing with the good, the bad and the ugly of Bangalore. That’s why I love this city so much :-)
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