TV here.. TV there

It looks like having come a long way from irritatingly hopping between channels airing KKusum, Kahani Ghar Ghar Ki, KKSBKBT [if an Indian cannot decode it, he has no right to be called an Indian] and other such long names which could be mistaken for abbreviated expletives. For me all of them had almost the same story and even some characters. To understand plasma physics might be easier.. though my mom and sister might vehemently disagree.

The other alternative was Star World or Zee English where I happened to miss the most wanted serials every day as either work or traffic kept me away from home.

Well now here I just enjoy watching back to back of Simpsons, Seinfeld, Friends, Everybody loves Raymond, King of Queens, Will and Grace and then some. Cliche as it may sound, I never get tired of watching even the repeat telecasts. The evenings just fly by.

The other day one of my colleagues asked - what for lunch?
I replied - rice, dal, curd and MASH.
Still remember those early star tv days - evening 7 pm was the time for MASH [I believe]. Just love watching it all over again.

It is not that I hate Indian serials. There have been some pretty good ones.... I liked - Sarabhai Vs Sarabhai or the very old Nukkad but then they really cannot stand up against those expletives for the whole evening.

It is not just the hindi channels but this problem persists with telugu (my mother tongue), tamil and myriad number of Indian language channels. I really cannot stand these, an episode of which goes on like:

5 min recap of previous episode.

Male lead [Aashish]: Asha, I love you
Female lead [Asha]: I don't but I will get married to you.
Mother-in-law [don't ask me whose]: I love you both but Asha should marry your brother Somesh.

Ad break

A short recap of what happened before the ad.

Aashish: I never knew I had a brother!!!
mother-in-law sobs, Aashish looks disturbed.
Another male character: Asha cannot marry.... she is married to someone else. I have a board meeting to attend.. I am going.

Ad-break

A short recap of what happened before the ad.

Aasha: No................ that is a lie [long silence..We could use it for October 30th]
Mother-in-law [don't ask me whose]: I will see to that the marriage happens. Let me see who can stop it. Now let me go and make some pickle.

End of episode. A contest
question 1: guess whether Asha and Aashish will get married?
question 2: what pickle does the mother-in-law make?

Guess they should have prizes for guessing in another how many episodes will they get married and how long will it take to get divorced or one of them dies and they again get married [yeah, the person does not really die.. as is exposed later]

This is pretty much the skeleton of all the soaps.

It is not only the story in these that makes me sick but the incomprehensible relations that come forth between the characters - guess "Bold and the beautiful" needs to own up some responsibility here. Yeah, the soaps were not originally from our kitchens, right? But we over did it a lot, forgetting what a decent laugh at home looks like.

So as I had lunch with MASH a few moons back, MASH temporarily went off air. There I flipped through the channels and came across a queer program - a reality show as they call it. "Julie says Sam might not be the father of her child" read the day's title. Some sobs, some angry remarks and fists followed. Then followed a DNA report which said Tom.. wait no Sam (what's in a name) was indeed the father of the child. Damn it!! :)

This followed for a few days while MASH remained off air. Everyday a DNA report was brought in to confirm if this donkey or that monkey was the father, mother or whatever.. Finally got sick of it and as I was contemplating knocking TV off my lunch menu, thankfully MASH was back.

Most of the ads aired on the free to air channels here cannot really stand up to the Aamir Khan's "thanda ad" or asian paint's "waah sunil babu.. badhiya hai" ad. They simply lack the creativity.

As I talked to one of my friends in Chicago, I was taken aback when I was expostulated for not following any of the US ball games. I was adamant that I did not like any one of them. 10 days later I cheered Spurs, as I watched them on TV, win the NBA finals against Pistons. Sports can really be infectious here - but then again they are pretty much restrained to the 3 balls- base ball, basket ball and football [read rugby].

But again what do "we" have to boast about - cricket and cricket and cricket. While a minority of the crowd might prefer watching F1 and soccer leagues also, cricket is pretty much the staple diet we have been brought up on.

Hope India soon tunes into more of Sarabhai Vs Sarabhai, walk the talk and NHL championships.

A la prochaine...........

Me Missing

This weekend just zoomed past buy .. so fast that I hardly checked my mails for the whole 2 days. Had an old college friend come to Austin, so spent the better part of the 2 days with him.

Saw "Batman Begins" with him. Though not a great movie but has come a long way from the other Batmans. Though there is some plot to talk about in the movie and is logical, still there is that missing spark in it that would make it thrilling.

Pulling the character out of the comic books, Burton has tried well. Some dry jokes from Caine [Alfred, butler] add up some laughs. Bale tried well but could have done better. Katie Holmes [assistant DA] looked out of skin of the character. The Batcar lost the touch. The car [or a tank as it might be called] though sophisticated, no longer looks like the sleek Batcar we are used to. Come back Alicia Silverstone and yeah, give us back the Batcar. All in all a B+ movie and a good way to kill time.

Sunday afternoon, I sent some chills down the spines of a few of my colleagues. As I went out after lunch, I was not traceable for the next 5 hrs. I had gone to see off an old friend at the airport. None of my roomies or other colleagues knew about this and they started a manhunt at Walmarts, Fry's, movie theatre's and for possible car wrecks. Had I not been back by the time I was, they would have called 911. I would have had the privilege to have my photo aired on the local news channels - now that is some publicity I could have done with :). And yeah, it is good to know that people care - thanks to all of you guys.

Thanks, but no thanks.

One of my weekly visits to Walmart and a phone call I received later stirred up this blog.

It was not long ago - about three summers back, I think. It was then that I had set my foot in Bangalore. Slowly found my groove there and settled down. Weekends was a time to be spent in malls and shopping complexes. One of my such weekends awakened me to a freaky concept. I was in a store, doing (don't remember) window shopping or real shopping along with my roomie. As is common in such places, we bumped into a guy (let's call him Rakesh Sinha) who out of no particular reason seemed interested in us. He took our address and phone nos. and all.

Having received my visiting cards recently, I was all the more enthu about giving them out to anybody who remotely looked interested in them. So I happily parted with some cards and there it came to an end, atleast I had thought so.

Until the next weekend, when the doorbell rang - ting tong and I pulled myself out from my late afternoon slumber.

I opened the door and there stood Mr Rakesh.. all binaca smile.

Me: Aaaaaa, yes?
He: Hi, You remember me?.. Rakesh... We met at Food World last sunday.
Me: Ah... oh.. hi.

Ok, I might have made up this guy meeting us at food world, for I do not remember how he came to our house. But what follows is true.

So continued the niceties, till he forced himself into my own house.

He: Hope I have not disturbed you.
Me: Well you are here now. What brings you here?
He: Before I begin that, lets sit down
Me: Please make yourself comfortable.

I was sitting on the only chair in the house and left the whole floor of the hall to him [athithi devo bhava]. He shamelessly sat down and I, owing to my right-wing upbringing, obliged to sit down next to him. My roommate had also joined me by then, apparently equally peeved by the new encroacher of our space and time.

So he continued about his business plan and how in a couple of years time we would be earning close to 25 lakhs per year doing nothing - yes doing nothing. That was a bolt from blue.. for my roomie at least - he is one of those guys who thinks his sleepy little town has the best things to offer in this world and everything else anywhere is crap (yeah the Bareilly airport fame one or the official Lapis cup scorer- for those of you who know him). He was all ears and I was all sleep. So he continued and I dragged myself through the session - till I heard the name Amway.

Me: Oh... all this was about Amway?
He: Yes, and it is really wonderful. Believe me.
Me: ok.. but I don't want to sell toothpaste!
He: No we have other products also.
Me: Ok.... I don't want to sell toothpaste and shaving cream.
He: See you do not know much about it. We have an inspirational talk tomorrow and I am offering you the tickets at an exclusive price of Rs 250.

My friend gets up, goes in and gets those few green notes.

He: Here are your tkts and a cassette absolutely free. And what about you Phani?

I made up an excuse that I had an urgent project delivery to be done on that day (or something like that). He was not about to let me go that easily. I somehow convinced him that I always had the audio cassettes to listen to.

My roomie never went to that talk.. thanks to my enlightening conviction of what a bootless enterprise it would be to sell toothpaste.

So went a few other months and this time (truely) another guy picks us up.

He: Hi My name is xxxx and i work for yyyy
Me: Hi
He: So what do you do in your free time
Me: Sleep
He: and
Me: sleep
He: ok (smiles). Can I have your phone no?
Me: Why?
He: I have a business...
Me: (cutting him) Amway?
He: err.. aaa... yes
Me: Thank you, but not interested.

This time I managed to stage a virginal walk away.

A few more months later one of my other roomie's walks in after work and describes excitingly about a guy who is going to come in the next day. This guy met him in food world (yeah same one as the one above) and apprised him of some of his entrepreneurial ideas. Well, the next day he comes as expected and we all sit down.

Well who doesn't like some extra money in their hands.

He starts off and proceeds to explain graphs - same graphs as the one described by Mr Sinha leading to Rs. 25 LPA.

Me: Excuse me.. is this about Amway?
He: (looks shocked - on how the cat came out of the bag so soon).. err.. ummmm...

I am out of the house before he says an yes.

From then on any stranger who tried to befriend me and immediately asked my address and phone nos. got a piece of my mind (a guy in our neighbourhood Udupi Upahaar was one of the victims) - atleast until this happened in the US of A.

In Walmart, it is not difficult to find a fellow Indian, as he would be in the same parts of the store as you are in and then follow you - makes you feel like a magnet. So this guy walks up to us, introduces himself as a Mr kkk (yes he says "I am Mr. kkk" - I thought the salutation was for someone else to use for us). As of real name, I have to hide the name in case I end up in legal lawsuit - you never know in USA. We reciprocate the niceties and he asks my phone nos. My radar picks up some disturbing signals but my processor junks them as invalid fears.

So another week past by and I had already received 3 calls from Mr. kkk - luckily each time I was not available. But the fourth time he caught me. He explained his new startup buisness and he was looking for some new enthusiastic guys (read me). I had butterflies in stomach. In the next half an hour with great difficulty I refused his proposition citing various reasons that I conjured up.

But then I have had it. No stranger is going to walk up to me anymore and get my address and phone no.

Mr Amway or a stranger in the USA
Nay nay, all I would say is stay away.

And if anyone of you happen to be in the shoes of Mr. Sinha or Mr. kkk, please do not bug people. Let them know what you are up to. If they are interested they will welcome you. But don't assume everyone warms up to the idea of your enterprise.

If you continue doing this, it won't be long before newspapers carry headlines like:

Amway cultist loses mind as mob gives him a piece of theirs.

Stranger gets beaten in market for soliciting phone nos.

Don't say you weren't forewarned.

And yeah Mr Sinha's audio cassettes still lie somewhere in the attic of our house in Bangalore - never opened condition - any takers?

My malgudi....

As I caught up on some TV during the weekend, the aired cartoons brought back my childhood memories floating by.

I was brought up in a sleepy little town called Khetri (a mammoth copper mines PSU eating away the government resources) of about 4 sq. km. in area set in the royal state of Rajasthan (about 2 hrs away from Pilani of BITS fame and around 200Km away from Delhi and Jaipur). We kids in that place never had the privileges of big city kids who had theatres, summer camps, Apu ghar's et al - but we were always happy.

Nothing moved faster in the town than gossip. The kitty parties never failed to create rippling stories. And then these stories by word of mouth and exclusive culinary skills of the passers ended up in our laps to be devoured ruthlessly. Well the opening up of the Indian economy (end of the PSUs) and the start of big soaps (I still remember Shanti as an answer to "Bold and the Beautiful" and "The Santa Barbara") did unsettle those gossip rings to a certain extent but there has been no institution formed in the world to put a complete end to such entertaining endeavours.

During summer vacations if I was not touring the Southern India to get acquainted with ever growing number of relations, it would be the only time in the year when we heared the rooster crowing - for all of the "future citizens of the country" were up by 5 am sharp only to be in the field honing their cricketing skills. This continued for another few hours till the merciless Sun drove them back into the comforting cool of desert coolers of their homes. Sunday mornings used to be He-man's, Ramayan's and then Mahabharat's as years progressed.

Vacation handwriting assignments were meant to be completed only in the last week of the vacations. Rest of the day was spent gossiping at friends places, playing badminton at local club or catching up on the sleep. Summers were a time for sweet lemonades, refreshing roohafzah's, juicy water melons, ice candy's, sugar cane juice and a lot more.

Summers also did bring in some fun activities. Various competitions at the club were a usual occurrence. The best being jalebi race - where the contenders had their hands tied behind. They were to run to a rope which had jalebis dangling in the air, rip the jalebis into their mouths and run back to the finish lines. As time passed by and we matured, the competition only meant eating jalebis - the race was left to the youngsters to be completed while we partied carelessly on the jalebis.

Another exciting day I still remember was a painting or rather a colouring competition. I must have been very young for I do not recollect my height and weight then. I do remember this incident because my parents never fail to constantly remind me of my skills akin to Da Vinci's. On the appointed day we were given a man's sketch to be coloured. There came my vivid colourful imagination to full and I was determined to use all my crayons. I let that man have one leg in blue and the other in green colour. He was also not going to have a colourless face. The face got a red. Luckily the hair got black (all the probability theory at it's best). The other colours are not worth recollecting because they formed his clothes. Anyways, I stood first in the competition. Surely other "Mona Lisa's" of my competitiors were not colourful.

The evenings again used to be dotted with cycling, cricket and soccer followed by family social visits - again a way for parents to catch up on gossip. For us kids it used be extra bonus play time.

Suddenly, the school reopening seemed just around the corner. So came the rush to buy new books. The english and hindi text books wouldn't last for more than a day by which time I would have devoured all the stories. Then came the time to cover the books, new shoes, socks, school bags and uniforms and get going with handwriting assignments. No body would belive me that I wrote these assignments for almost 9 years of my schooling life. We were pointlessly asked to write 1 page of hindi and 1 page of english handwriting assigment per day for the whole vacation. We completed that in the last 1 week.

The first 2 days in school just flew by as we exchanged vacation stories with one another. The schools dragged on till the next long break - the christmas break. A full 10 day vacation. The winter chill kept us indoors mostly. But this was a time to feast on "gajar halwas". In that part of the country, sakranth (or pongal or uttarayan -as known in other parts of the country) was a time for kite flying wars. So christmas vacation inaugrated the kite season and yours truely though never being an excellent kite flyer was always among the first to run on streets to catch a kite that has been lost by its owner in a kite fight. The ensuing heated quarrels with all the locals in rags carrying thorny branches never dissuaded me. So much was the craze that I did happen to go to hospital once to get stitches on my finger owing to a quarrel.

Though those days will never come back, I do realise that not all children have the same fun today owing to educational pressures, working mothers and priority of video games over kite flying. What a pity.

Milk Shake on the next day

There happen only a few days in our lives that we remember long after.

This particular weekend or rather the saturday happened to be one such day. The day started with a phone call at 7 am which broke me out of my sweet dreams. It was Billy and it was his wake up call - for we had decided to embark on a short journey to the San Antonio Sea World - a water park.

So at 9 am sharp 5 of us were cruising at 70 mph - me in the rear seat still trying to catch up on my sleep and recollect those sweet dreams from which I had been cruelly woken up from.

Another 2 hrs and we were at the gates of the Sea World and took our tickets and a map. We were in time for a show with sea-lions and seals. The animals were well trained and a story was enacted which got the audience spell bound. So came an end to the 22 minute show.

We just had enough time to grab a lunch there before we could see another show involving killer whales. Talk about lunch for a vegan like me and there cannot be a sadder story. French-fry's and a coke - both king sized made my lunch while I jealously watched others feast on chicken this and chicken that.

Then, the lunch still playing on my mind, we went for the show. It was nothing like I had thought. The whales and their trainers put up a brillant act on the tunes of an equally melodious song. The killer whales behaved like holy cows. The killer instinct no where to be seen. The next 22 minutes flew by without even blinking an eye. As the front row people were wet with splashes of water (courtesy - whales) and the rear row people like me wet with sweat (courtesy the stadium), the show came to an end and we made our way to the next show. It was water ski show. Again no less in brilliance than the other shows and a hilarious act got me wanting to see all that again.

But as usual in all places - time was a constraint. Around this time I happened to see closely for the first time the rides that were present in that place. I wanted to finish off the shows as soon as possible and move on to the rides.

So next came a 4D movie show - don't ask me what's the 4th D. I am still trying to figure out. So we waited.. waited and waited at the entrance of the theater. The sweat and the heat taking it's toll. It was not only me because I saw clothes coming off people. Seeing people in their various stages of undress was surely exciting. So after a long wait, the gates did open. Every body made a beeline and we were among the first few bees.

Inside the seats were wet! No, not with sweat but with generous quantities of water all around. With suspicions I settled down in my seat with those cheap glasses for a 3-D movie.

Those glasses reminded me of my childhood days when on Republic day, Independence day, Dusshera, Durga Puja etc, there were fairs hosted in my sleepy little town.
Squeezing a few rupees out of my Dad's pocket for the cheap sunglasses and other things always used to be thrilling. Probably another time and another post will talk about all that.

This was a 3D movie with special effects - generous quatities of water was sprayed all around from the ceiling whenever there was a splash of the sea waves or that drunk old captain spit out his beer - talk about imagination. But the best part was when the kids in the movie unearthed a bunch of rats. Such was the effect produced that both my legs came off the ground on to the seat. I believe some people might have stood up on their chairs. I realized that it was small jets of air being released from under the seats that produced the effect of rats passing on our feet. My heart beat so fast that it might have put Schumi and his ferrari to shame.

Next in the order was the last show. Being in the a/c in the theatre made me forgot about the sweaty conditions outside and the progressive undressing. This show was some gymnastic stuff along with dolphins. I captured some amazing shots with my camera of the dolphins in the mid-air.



Then came the STEEL EEL - a ride. It was a long long time since I had been on any ride - so long that I had forgotton about all the thrills involved.So buckled in my seat I was all set to go. We slowly climbed to the highest point of the ride and without any notice we started descending. I was thrown out of my seat. I thought that it was the end of me. Second time!! - just a few weeks after the Maharana-pratap incident (don't know what this is? - serves you right for not reading my previous posts - hahah) had I seen hell so closely. So as I clutched to my precious life with my finger tips, the descent ended. All of us looked around. Every person had a my-brains-just-blew-out look on his face. I was grinning that I was not the only one to have the shaken persona. So I braced myself for the next few bumps in the ride. Having made the longest dive, my confidence had increased million-fold and I screamed my way through the rest of the ride.

So as we got out we had to wait for a few minutes to regain our senses. Imeediately was another ride in the vicinity. Some parties in our team chickened out. But I put up a brave face. Nothing in the world could have prepared me for that. A less than 2 minute ride that made me recollect the song "aaj main upar, aasman nichay" - for we were cruelly turned upside down, left, right and in all curves that we were and were not taught in the mathematics classes of our engineering.

I could barely walk after getting down - my kidneys were in my head. The undressed people no longer interested me as I was only bothered to get my kidneys back to the place they belonged. It took a mammoth 15 min for that to happen.
The next 1 hour was spent lazying in a wave pool and having some body slides. the water took away all the exhaustion of our bodies. I could have lied there for ever like an hippo but the time was limited. So we concluded our day with a visit to an aquarium and started back.

We promptly halted for a brief dinner of burgers, french fries and coke. My fries won me a milk shake - lucky me. What a day had that been. It's a different issue that my godowns were so full with fries and coke that I had to postpone the milk shake.

I am here sitting down the next day consuming the refrigertaed milk-shake and all the memories are coming back to me - I put them down here to immortalise them.

Have fun.

Poetic license?

Most of the interesting blogs that I have come across are either plagiarized or have a poetic license about them. While I shall refrain from discussing on plagiarism, I shall not be inhibited on the virtues of poetic licenses. Thanks to a dear friend of mine, Billy, who brought up this to my notice. As I explain my point of view on those interesting blogs, I am sure that this blog's interest factor will go for a toss. Nevertheless, I will go ahead with a promise that an interesting blog will arrive soon.

Everyday morning when I get up and try to look up at the sun, I need to close my eyes immediately - for I am not an usual early riser and by then the Sun is too bright for my sensitive eyes.

Why I try to look at he Sun - I would leave to your speculation.

No, I won't tell that here. There is a time and place of every type of story/article.

But as I don my Ray-bans it's a different story [no speculations here please.. that would be a different post]. The Sun suddenly appears to be moonified and I can come out with as many poems on chandini [moonlight] in the bright sunlight as the number of US soldiers dropping dead in Iraq in a day.

Such is the influence of poetic licenses on the dry facts of life. While I do not believe there are any strict ethics for blogging and I do go by my own rules for my blogs, I truly appreciate the underlying reasons for each blog. Each blog is a result of something we have seen, heard, experienced or thought. Then the ray-bans come on and out comes a beautiful blog that succeeds to give people a thorough laugh sometimes and a lingering thought at other times.

It's donning of those ray-bans that truly sees the incident/thoughts in a different light. A light that shines through on those people who have the constant problem of no-work-but-need-to appear-busy-behind-desk.

While sometimes it is just the deviation from conventional form, other times it is the deviation from facts too. Some people might call it creativity. I would dare not disagree with them for instead of ray-bans they might have donned an equally virtuous Fendi or Girgio Armani.

But all in all everybody would agree that there was an underlying theme, an idea that the writer used and then came up with that brilliant piece that is doing forwards in mail chains across the ladders of the corporate world.

It's not easy to blog and to all those brilliant bloggers, I humbly salute. But the important thing is we write what we strongly feel about without restrains.

To end this on a happy note, there goes a Banta Singh fwd I recvd. few hrs back from a colleague of mine:

Banta goes to a shop to buy Indian flag. The shopkeeper gives him an Indian flag.
Banta looks at it for a while and asks one question ...... Shopkeeper faints

What does he say?

isme koi doosra color dikhaaiye
[show me some other colour in this]

- 3 cheers to blogging

Carried away.....

It was a few moons back when the travails of my long hours spent in sleep and the ensuing dreams finally payed off. On a sunday morning, when there is utterly no reason for me to get off the bed before 10am, I was up and kicking by 7:30 am. And all this with a glint in the eye like that of a child who has just been bought his first tricycle.

Ok it was not a tricycle for me, but I was about to ride a horse for the first time in my life. So there I was ready even before the rooster popped his eyes open [ come on, even roosters have late morning on sunday's]. It's a different issue that crowing of rooster's is unheard of in urban US of A.

So 4 of us started on a 200 mile long journey to piggyback a horse. After an exhausting 3 hrs of drive dotted with coke breaks, loo breaks and lunch break we did arrive at a village aptly named Utopia and felt immediately refreshed.

The fields were lush green bordered by colourful gentle slopes. There we had number of colts, fillys, mares and stallions.. all lazily grazing on the green under a overcast sky which rendered more contrast to the pictersque Utopia.

There a man of about 75 summers greeted us and assigned one horse to each of us complete with saddles et al. He did his best to convince us that trained horses were one of the most gentle animals.. [my doubts lay somewhere else]

For my part, I did get a good looking bay coloured horse.

Note: Didn't use beautiful/handsome because I do not know if it was a mare or a stallion and I had no intention of doing it in whatsoever manner you people just thought about. Enough of the smirks.

After giving me a uninterested inspection from top to bottom, it finally resigned its fate to its rider [read me]. Perhaps it would have been delighted to have a jockey and then gallop through the uninhibited green pastures. But alas it was destined on this day to have me and walk lazily or at the most trot.

But I was determined to get into the skin of a jockey. I must emphasize here that the perceptions of horses are better as I later found out.

So there we were 4 of us.. each one on a different horse. We were guided by a small guy of about 16 summers on a naked back horse. it looked so hollywood-bollywood ishtyle.. the way he would get on to the horse and gallop.... I was getting more determined to get the best feel.. once I got the steering correct...

The next 5 mins were spent in learning how to get the horse moving left, right, forward and stop. It all seemed so easy.. my horse obeyed me perfectly and so there we were all set to go.

As soon as the word go was said, my horse seemed to change it's mind. It would go exactly in the opposite side I wanted it to go. Who says animals have only instincts and no brains!!!

So be it... it lamely followed the other horses in front and soon we were walking slowly through green pastures. This wasn't exciting... so i kicked my horse.. [All the **PCA people - hold on, I only wanted to get the horse moving faster.. just nudged it.. not really kicked " did not cause any injury to horse" - phew!]. Voila.. it was trotting; atleast I thought so... but like an automobile with the foot off the gas, it would slow down immediately.

I decided enough was enough.. kicked.. er.. nudged it a little harder.. and it shot off like a rocket.. I was told later that it was the first time that I [on my horse] trotted.. talk of all the spoil sport!!

After about 10 mins of walking and interspersed trotting.. we arrived at a group of horses. My horse at this time decided that I was not it's master for the time being and it better invoke its decision making [talk of freedom!].

But it had underestimated me; I was not to be let down so easily. So I nudged it forward and tried to steer it away from following the other jobless horses that we came upon. It shook it's head violently and refused to budge. If it were a signal of some sort then I had failed to perceive it for I still kicked it. It had enough of me. Up went both of it's front legs and I thought I nearly saw the pearly gates with St. Peter opening his arms. But sense prevailed over that wretched 4 legged creature for I saw it smirk over my helplessness. Assured that it would not be troubled further, it followed the horses. I realized why the home teams have always an advantage. True it had turned out to be an ego battle between me and the horse.. each refusing to accept defeat.

So lazily this four legged with a I-will-do-what-I-like attitude animal walked on.. me having temporarily resigned. A strategy was brewing in my brain. At this time my friends too were having similar problems. One of the other horses decided it needed a lunch break and started eating leaves, grass and what not whenever it found some. Talk of team work.

So like true Texan cowboys sans hats and guns, we drove those jobless horses back to their sheds. At one point of time I decided to implemet my strategy that I had brewed. I caught my horse unawares and tried to steer it off at particular turning. But my veteran horse was smarter than I expected. It again did pose like one of those black Maharanapratap statues in parks and reminded me of the pearly gates and the doom if I were not allow it do as it wished. I happily complied.

The jobless horses once tethered in the shed, we moved on to take a different route. Surprisingly my horse seemed to obey me very well now. Was it another tactic of it's.. I cannot say for sure till this day.

But it began trotting as I wanted, turned as I steered it. But an hour on horseback had almost got me now. My back hurt like hell and knees were not able to sustain the ride any longer. I have my doubts that my horse knew this and on slopes it would suddenly start trotting [perhaps it's lazy instincts coupled with training forbade it to gallop - thankfully]. Each time it trotted it would feel as if someone was drilling my knees and my back. I had to pull on the reins to avoid trotting. So much for asking it to trot in the first half.

Meanwhile the lunching horse still continued lunching. It had to be almost whipped by our guide to complete the tour. Another hour of walking and trotting through the slopes of a mountain under thick foliage and we were back now knowing what horse back riding is.

Throughly exhausted I finally accepted the animal to have better brawn and brains than me. But all in all it was a great experience and we slowly absorbed the experience as we drove back another 3 hrs for home. 6 hrs drive for a 2 hrs ride. Crazy we are, we accept.

The next 2 days I had to be constantly reminded that there was no big stone between my legs.

I don't say that I would jump out of the bed again with a glint in the eye at the prospect of horse riding, but now I hold a respect for that animal and people who do ride it with ease.

PS: I do carry the been-there-done-it look on my face now! Yes, I am smirking.

Belying the UN

The UN in its latest reports say that India will outstrip China by year 2030 by having 1440 million resources in population [as of this year it is 1080 million]. Well lot of human resources, I say, and all the more a reason to increase the number of HR managers :)

Urged by a compelling feeling, I checked out rediff news and presto - what do I find: "VHP asks Hindus to increase population".

Atleast 75% of the population is Hindus (strictly statistically speaking - not holding anything against onyone). So that makes 810 million hindus and if VHP has it's say this would be 1080 million by year 2011!!

Assuming the other parties in question partake in this tug of war [we do have a secular constitution and everyone has rights to be on a level platform] to post an equal rise in profits, the total population of India by year 2011 would be 1460 million.

There goes the UN forecast down the drain helped with a Kiwi drainex.

Vision 2011 - sponsored by VHP!!

We do not have enough B-schools to cater to this demand - VHP did u hear that?

And what would become of all the moods/nirodh/mala-d's is anybody's guess.

"Chota parivaar sukhi parivaar" [Small family happy family] would soon be replaced by "Bada parivaar janasankhya aparampaar" [Big family bigger poulation]. Wouldn't be surprised if some of the esteemed Gandhi family members shiver in the warmth of their heavenly abode..

I comfort myself with the idea that more Indians are educated now than ever before and shall not heed to such callings..... and if they do.. God help us [probably then he would provide us with more earthquakes, cyclones and Tsunamis]

- A solemn prayer

Undies in a back-pack

I had planned for this trip to my cousin's place almost 2 months in advance. Had to travel from Austin (Texas) to a place in Kentucky. This memorial day weekend was going to be my first memorable weekend in US.. atleast I hoped so.

The tickets were booked 2 months in advance. For that meticulous planning, there was a need for the packing to be done equally well [WTH ... I never did act in such a grotesque way for a 3 day travel.. I realise now]. My roomate chips in his 2 cents of advice - "Keep a few pairs of undies bundies and toothbrush in ur cabin bag - lest ur check-in baggage gets lost/delayed".. and so I comply. Instead of the tooth brush, I keep the whole toilet pouch and all undies in my cabin back-pack.

Now nothing could ruin any bit of my trip.

So there I was, bunked the second half of my work day (Friday), had a quick lunch and drove a tidy 25 miles to the airport well in advance to have a comfortable check-in [with all the memorial day weekend rush - u never can predict the crowds].

Went straight to the American Airlines kerb check-in counter. Checked-in the bigger bag and then walked around the airport with still another 20 min left for security check-in. All the time religiously holding my back-pak, zealously guarding the 5 pairs of undies.

A point of minor note: The back pack also contained my newly obtained panasonic FZ3 digital camera worth $450.

So 5 min before the scheduled takeoff time, I entered the security check-in line. I had my driver's license ready for checking by the Transport Security Administration (TSA - Totally shameless Americans - you will know soon). The big guy was impressed and waved me in. I moved forward with a big grin on my face. 2 minutes passed. It would be another 1 minute before I am through the metal detector and my cabin bag is through, as those shameless eyes see it through the x-ray. I would still have 2 minutes to board the plane. What a nice planning and timing.

So I proceed for the xray and strip myself off the soles, wallet and what not and let all this pass through the xray. Meanwhile I pass through the metal detector - nothing. Ah, the last hurdle crossed before I proceed for my well deserved vacation. Wait a minute, a hefty TSA person wearing half moon glasses pulls my bag back into the xray machine .. and calls 2 other guys .. WTH. I grin - maybe the camera showed some electronic stuff. That should pass!

They see, what I believe to be my bag, on their screen and start discussing. The bag comes out and one of the three men - a mean looking 6'2" TSA guy asks me to move back. The other equally mean looking but shorter guy slips into (i mean his hands) latex gloves. Now this is becoming interesting:

Me :Is there a problem
TSA1 :Stand back!... sir.
Me :ok
TSA2 :Is this ur bag?
Me :Yes
TSA2 :We need to check your bag
Me :Sure, but my flight is almost about to leave
TSA2 :Do not worry, if everything is fine in the bag you will board it.

Easier said than done. It has bloody costed me 300$ for the tkts.
So out comes my camera pouch.

Me : Can I help you. That is my digital camera.
TSA2 : No!!! Stand back.. you!!
Me (thinks) They make me feel like a terrorist.
TSA1 : Sir you either let us do our work or we will have to be harsher.
Me (thinks) This is it. I am a terrorist here.
Me : ok
TSA2 : That camera is ok.

Out comes my undies.

Announcement: Mr Chavali travelling by flight no. 191 of American Airlines is requested to report at the departure immediately.

Me : Hey that's me. Can you please hurry.

I have already 5-6 people looking on as to what is happening.

TSA2 : Sir we need to do what we have to do
TSA2 : Is this yours? (undi 1)
Me : Yes. [Surely I wouldn't be carrying yours!!]
TSA2 : This? (undi 2)
Me : Yes!!!!
TSA2 : This one also? (undi 3)
Me : Yes sir! Everything in the bag is mine!!

By now there is a little exhibition of coloured underwears on the table and people gathered to see that [as though they do not have such things in US of A]. Hail VIP undies.

Out comes a memory stick, a pen, a CD and various other assortments.
Then finally comes out my Re 5 tattered toilet pouch which seems out of place with my FZ3 and clean coloured undies.

Announcement: Mr Chavali travelling in flight 191 of AA - This is the second calling for you. Please report at the departure immediately.

I start to become uneasy. From the pouch comes out a nail clipper.

TSA2 : This is yours?
Me : Yes. Any problem?
TSA2 : We cannot allow you to carry this in the cabin bag. This has blade shaped metal.
Me : So what do I do.. my flight is almost about to leave?
TSA2 : You have 3 options - one -leave this here. I will take it

[Like hell you will take it..that's been with me for 8 years]

TSA2 : second -You go back to your car and leave it there

[That's 15 min of time and bloody you will pay for my tkts?]

TSA3 : Third - You checkin this bag

[Well that seems the best option]

So I stuff all assortments and undies in my bag [all for that tidy packing!!!] as the curious onlookers gaze by. I am only comforted by the idea that there are no familar faces around. There couldn't have been a worse start for my vacation. So I run back, check-in the bag. Wait, I recall the bag, take my camera and a novel out and give the bag back.

Now i need to go and do the security check-in again!!

Announcement: Mr Chavali of flight 191 of AA for Dallas - this is the third and final call for you to report to the departure.

For all my luck, the security-checkin line was now very slowly snaking it's way - thanks to me for having held up the line for nearly 5 minutes. Now I realise that it is almost 5 minutes beyond the take-off time of my flight.

Another 2 minutes and I am thru, this time - neatly.

I grab my camera and run to the departure gate - my tickets inside the novel. I show my boarding pass just in time before they closed the gates as the pilot was seen through. Finally i do get my alloted seat.

For the first time in the last 10 minutes my mind was a bit clear.

I changed over in Dallas and boarded another flight for Lexington, KY. Nothing was more eventful than my check-in scene.

Visited Niagara falls with my cousin. It was awesome.

Thanks for the 2 cents advice that I complied with before - I checked-in everything on my return trip just to find that my baggage was missing when I returned to Austin. Holy crap - What a beginning and what an end? [No punctuation anywhere]

All's well that ends well.

I did get my bags 24 hrs later - but learnt important lessons:

- Planes do not take off at the printed scheduled time. They do keep a 5 min buffer.
- Do not keep undies and nail clipper together in your cabin bag.

Advice Unsolicited

I have been here for now almost 4 months .. in the land of oppurtunity. It's a different issue that the oppurtunities have almost dried up. The name's stuck.

Well anyways, on my trip US, one particlar leg of the journey was between Mumbai and the French capital of Paris. I fortunately or unfortunately happened to have the company of an Indian [Bihari ].

So there we were, both of us excited for the journey.

Hum: Hi, I am Phani
Tum: Me Rishikesh Jha.
Hum: So where are you going?
Tum: Cincinati, hum software engineer hain.. Client ne humko bulaaya hai
Hum: Oh, you must be very important then.
Tum: Haan woh to hai, whole project ka work hum hi jo sambhalte hain
Hum: Which company do you work for?
Tum: Nomadic Solutions, pichle 13 mahinon se... college se nikalte hi campus placement ho gaya tha.
Hum: hmmm, itni jaldi onsite mil gaya?
Tum: Ab kya bataayen, mera Manager meri bhabhi ki shister ke husband ka phrend hai.
Mana karne par bhi hum hi ko bhej diya.
Hum: Good. To yeh pehli baar hai .. haan?
Tum: Haan... par kya farak padta hai.. hame sab pata hai.
Hum: matlab.. jaise?

That was probably the worst mistake I did on this leg of the journey for I had to undergo torture, listening on how to drive on the right side of the road, say only "hi" in reply to a "hi", gas means petrol, "to go" means parcel at a restaurant. How to fill up my I-94 "phaaram" and all other trivial details which made me wonder if this Jha saaheb was born in the US [ABCD type].

Then came the changeover at Paris.

Tum: Are suno, hamara bag dekhenge aap? Ham tanik phone karke aate hain ghar ko.
Hum: Akele kya karunga yahaan.. main bhi chalta hoon

Another big mistake.. thinking about which I still turn red with embarrassment.

Tum: Thik hai chalo. Yahaan par franc use hota hai.. Indian rupee nahi chalega. Agar tumhe bhi phone karna hai to Amex se "daallar" le lo.
Hum: No, it's ok.

Near a phone booth.

Tum: Achha aap wait kariye hum phunwa ke aate hain.
Hum: ok
As I look on, he chats with a "May I help you" person who's jaws fall open in astonishment. Not being in hearing proximity I conclude some English-French communication problem.

Tum: Saalon ko kuch nahi pata. Chalo aur kisi jagah try karte hain.
Hum: ok

Another phone booth. This time I am near to Jha saheb.

Tum: Hello sir, I want STD
operator: (jaws opened in astonishment)
Tum: (loudly) Excuse me.. anybody can help me.. I am wanting to get STD.

dhud.. chunk.... patak

All I saw was disarray of baggages, plates, cups and other such items on the floor strewn from the hangs of people with a look of "a lightening bolt just struck me".

I motioned him and started walking away.. all red with embarrassment. STD!!!! how could he say that.

Our next flight was being announced and luckily our seats were at the diagonal end of the economy cabin and that was the last of him that I saw or wish to see again.

Epilogue

As I write this today for those of you who do not understand the enormity of Jha saheb's asking, I will reproduce his email which I left unanswered.

Hi Phani,
Your company was nice in the plane. I recently met an accident while mistakingly taking the left side of the road instead of the right.
I am recovered now. I made a long distance call and talked to my parents and they are all ok. I now understand what STD means here. Because you were so close, I thought I shoud tell you so that you do not make this mistake.
In India STD means Subscriber Trunk Dialling. But in US, STD means Sexually Transmitted Diseases. In Paris, I had said I wanted STD. How funny.

Hope you will take care not to use the STD word in US.

Do tell me if you have any problems. I know lot of people and I can help you.

with regards
R. Jha
Nomadic Solutions

Dawn of Senility??

Really do not know what has got into me - me blogging!!... I must be dreaming. Well no.. having read some amazing blogs from my friends of yonder years, I too crave to put my pen to paper or rather finger to the keyboard and see where this takes me.