Intro
I have to tell you, there is nothing better than a life with a 9 to 5 job and a loving wife. You open your eyes in the morning see her cuddled up besides you and you can never resist the temptation to kiss her. And once you kiss her of course, you just have to move your hands around her. And once your morning activities are over you go to office and all and then work like a hog. Joke around with your colleagues. Call your boss names. And then return back home. Back into your wife's arms. I love it.
The dream i mean. Because I am neither married nor do I enjoy a 9 to 5 job. I work in a bank like many of my batch-mates. I work in the IT field like most others of my generation. And I work from 9 to 9. Sometime even later. Of course there are those beautiful girls in the office that i can look at when I am in the office. But the bitches, all have got themselves a husband or a boy friend. They never cared to wait for me. Not that I care too much either. But still it would be nice and all to have a girl friend. Or maybe a couple of girl fiends.
You might think I am a pervert who has nothing but sex on his mind. True. Only I don’t feel like a pervert. There's this girl who keeps giving me the looks like if I just go ahead and talk she will marry me right there. I am scared. As any other of my age, scared of commitments. Today I have got this proposal to make. Not to any girls silly. Agh!! No not even to boys. I am making a proposal for a change in the software system. Yaah so my life is boring. What can I do? Have started the work. But only just started.
Chapter 1
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Chapter 1
Intro
My bike is usually parked in the basement of my office building. I was thinking something and unlocking my helmet from the bike when I saw this gleaming object lying on the floor. A gun!! Whew!! I had never before seen a gun in my life. I mean in real life. I was thinking whether to pick it up or not. There was no one in sight. It was well past 8:30 and most of the people in my building are the 9 to 5 job type. So there was this urge in me to pick it up and I went right ahead and picked it up. It was quite heavy. As heavy as those plastic steam irons that we get nowadays. You can pick it up with one hand and aim and all. I picked it up and put it right inside my bag. Before anyone else could see. I was not thinking anything. I was just mesmerised by the thought of having a gun.
Ever since childhood I have practised shooting. With my index finger pointing straight ahead and thumb upwards. I have had my chances at holding guns too. You know, the Diwali ones. Every child as soon as he is able to walk and run wants a gun. And people say violence is bad. If violence were bad then why would we have the urge to have guns at all? We are all descendants from animals after all. The other day I was watching discovery channel and they showed these two huge horned deers or something playing. And how do they play? By locking horns and hitting each other. Same with lion cubs. And ditto for monkeys too. How can we be different? I think with civilisation and all we have actually become a bit too peaceful. Maybe thats why our population is increasing so fast. But, I am deviating from the subject.
So I had the gun inside my bag. The feeling was undescribable. A part of my nervous system was making me twitch, another was making me feel cold behind my spine. The
frontal lobe on the other hand was thinking whether the relative merits of owning a gun would surpass the danger from police. But then I am a banker, okay still too young to be called a banker, but nevertheless I am one of those breeds. I dont think police will have anything to do with me. Why would they check me at all? Unless... Unless they have put surveillance cameras around here and are watching me right now.
I looked all around me. No one was there. I looked at the ceilings, only cobwebs there. Could the camera be in some vehicle like they do in the TV channels nowadays. You know making bakra and all. There's this other one by a sardar which is also time pass. But bakra is the best. Anyways, I looked around, squinted a lot but couldn't make out if there was any buffoon watching me. Then I saw this huge fly or butterfly or whatever. It was just going round and round. Could it be some CIA sponsered espionage trick? God knows. I tried to look closer at the thing and found to my relief that it was only a big smelly fly. By that time I had one or two drop of sweat hanging by the twitching nerves on my head.
I once again looked around and then made up my mind to give the gun to the police and let all my apprehensions go. There's a police station right infront of my office building. So i sat on my bike and started it and came out of the parking area. To go to the police station I have to go right around my office building because the parking outlet is on the other side. I had to take a left turn and keep turning left until i reached the police station. But usually I turn right at the gate. Habit takes precedence. I turned right instead of left and then realized my mistake. But I am also pretty lazy so I talked myself into keeping the gun till tomorrow. I decided first thing in the morning I will give it to the police.
So I was on my way back home. The road is full of auto rickshaws as the place harbors almost all the head offices you can think of. One of those bastards took a sudden right turn and I had to put my brakes hard on. My back tire skidded a bit and I was temporarily shocked. The shock gave way to anger and I just thought I would kill the bastard with my newfound gun tonight. I accosted him and started yelling at him in perfect mumbaiya and he like a cow said sorry and turned around. All my hopes of killing a man went bust with him saying sorry as my heat came down suddenly.
I went on, and while going realized what a big mistake it would have been if I had even taken the gun out of my bag. There were so many people all around. I would have been lynched before I could even figure out how to unlock the thing and fire. And even if I did get to fire the damn thing then what? Whew!! That was a close escape.
Chapter 2
My bike is usually parked in the basement of my office building. I was thinking something and unlocking my helmet from the bike when I saw this gleaming object lying on the floor. A gun!! Whew!! I had never before seen a gun in my life. I mean in real life. I was thinking whether to pick it up or not. There was no one in sight. It was well past 8:30 and most of the people in my building are the 9 to 5 job type. So there was this urge in me to pick it up and I went right ahead and picked it up. It was quite heavy. As heavy as those plastic steam irons that we get nowadays. You can pick it up with one hand and aim and all. I picked it up and put it right inside my bag. Before anyone else could see. I was not thinking anything. I was just mesmerised by the thought of having a gun.
Ever since childhood I have practised shooting. With my index finger pointing straight ahead and thumb upwards. I have had my chances at holding guns too. You know, the Diwali ones. Every child as soon as he is able to walk and run wants a gun. And people say violence is bad. If violence were bad then why would we have the urge to have guns at all? We are all descendants from animals after all. The other day I was watching discovery channel and they showed these two huge horned deers or something playing. And how do they play? By locking horns and hitting each other. Same with lion cubs. And ditto for monkeys too. How can we be different? I think with civilisation and all we have actually become a bit too peaceful. Maybe thats why our population is increasing so fast. But, I am deviating from the subject.
So I had the gun inside my bag. The feeling was undescribable. A part of my nervous system was making me twitch, another was making me feel cold behind my spine. The
frontal lobe on the other hand was thinking whether the relative merits of owning a gun would surpass the danger from police. But then I am a banker, okay still too young to be called a banker, but nevertheless I am one of those breeds. I dont think police will have anything to do with me. Why would they check me at all? Unless... Unless they have put surveillance cameras around here and are watching me right now.
I looked all around me. No one was there. I looked at the ceilings, only cobwebs there. Could the camera be in some vehicle like they do in the TV channels nowadays. You know making bakra and all. There's this other one by a sardar which is also time pass. But bakra is the best. Anyways, I looked around, squinted a lot but couldn't make out if there was any buffoon watching me. Then I saw this huge fly or butterfly or whatever. It was just going round and round. Could it be some CIA sponsered espionage trick? God knows. I tried to look closer at the thing and found to my relief that it was only a big smelly fly. By that time I had one or two drop of sweat hanging by the twitching nerves on my head.
I once again looked around and then made up my mind to give the gun to the police and let all my apprehensions go. There's a police station right infront of my office building. So i sat on my bike and started it and came out of the parking area. To go to the police station I have to go right around my office building because the parking outlet is on the other side. I had to take a left turn and keep turning left until i reached the police station. But usually I turn right at the gate. Habit takes precedence. I turned right instead of left and then realized my mistake. But I am also pretty lazy so I talked myself into keeping the gun till tomorrow. I decided first thing in the morning I will give it to the police.
So I was on my way back home. The road is full of auto rickshaws as the place harbors almost all the head offices you can think of. One of those bastards took a sudden right turn and I had to put my brakes hard on. My back tire skidded a bit and I was temporarily shocked. The shock gave way to anger and I just thought I would kill the bastard with my newfound gun tonight. I accosted him and started yelling at him in perfect mumbaiya and he like a cow said sorry and turned around. All my hopes of killing a man went bust with him saying sorry as my heat came down suddenly.
I went on, and while going realized what a big mistake it would have been if I had even taken the gun out of my bag. There were so many people all around. I would have been lynched before I could even figure out how to unlock the thing and fire. And even if I did get to fire the damn thing then what? Whew!! That was a close escape.
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Chapter1
I reached home. I live in a small studio apartment. One room with my bed, cupboard, TV and most of the luggage packed in there respective corners. There is a kitchen which I occassionally use to make maggi. I dont like eating maggi a lot. But I dont know anything else. And I hate cooking. My mom cooks well. But all that is unnecessary blabber. There is a full length mirror attached to the cupboard. I love looking at myself in it. Surely Narcissus will pale in front of me.
Now that I was back again in my one room suite, I took out my Gun and stood in front of the mirror. First, James Bond style. Then mumbHai style. I checked if there were any bullets inside. It was the new kind of gun, not the old revolver; you know where the bullet compartment revolves to get the new bullet ready. This had a magazine inserted in the handle. I have seen in movies, people pressing the gun and the magazine comes out. I tried that in several ways, but it won’t come out. There had to be something. I couldn't find it anywhere. A surefire way to know whether bullets were there or not was to fire. But if I fire then people will hear and they may call the police.
But wont I love to fire it once. Just to hear how it sounds and to see the sparks fly. Maybe if I went to a deserted place and fired no one will hear. I aimed my gun towards the sky through the window and ting tong. An electric shock went through my body starting from the legs through the trunk to my head and the arms and the gun fell from my hand. There was someone at the door. What to do? I slid the gun under the bed and ran to open the door. By this time I was breathing heavily, not so much from the running as from the shock. There's not much room to run anyways.
I opened the door to reveal the secretary of the society where I stay. He is a middle-aged man, most probably in his early 40s. Big thick mustache on a big round face. Most of the things about him were round. He had a well-rounded belly. Round shoulders and round eyes. Really I had never seen anyone with that kind of eyes before I met him. It was as if he was permanently staring with either a mix of surprise and terror or surprise and anger at you. Maybe the poor fellow never had any eyelids.
He seemed more of angry right now than terrorized. But one could never discern. He opened his mouth to say something, and suddenly stopped. Then he looked behind me into the room. He put his neck in through the door and surveyed the whole place as if I was hiding something. Could it be possible that he knew about the gun? No he was inside his flat when I came up. He couldn't have seen me. It must be something else.Finally he uttered something. Said, "We live in a society. Family. You bachelors! What do you think you are doing? Coming whenever you like and going whenever you like. Bringing girl friends. You also bring drinks. Don’t you?"
Let me clarify here that I have never brought any girl friends here. But I believe the previous occupant had brought some lady of dubious origins and had been thrown out for the same reason. And ever since I have been getting the punishment he deserved. But the fatass was right about the drinks. I do get my friends to come over to my place for drinks. We have quite a gala time. Come weekend and we plan it out. A full bottle of whiskey, 2 liters of coke, lots of snacks, lots of chicken and lots of food. The laptop is connected to the big speakers and the party starts. Its great fun to be bachelors. I don’t know why people want to get married.
I am sure it was this that had put a nail in the oldies head. We had a party on Saturday night, Sunday I was away with my friends and the fool got hold of me now on Monday evening. I couldn't think of what to say, while he started again, "You young people are the future of our country. Hah! Our country will go to the gallows. This breed is all alike. They have no responsibilities and all they do is drink and dance and make noise." At this point he had started shouting and my two neighbors had opened their doors to see what was going on. Now he hollered, "If you do not stop this, I will throw you out. I will call the police. What kind of parents has reared children like you". The bastard was testing my patience now. I swear I would have hit him hard on the nose or poked his round eyes out if it had not been for those ladies watching.
Oh no! What am I thinking? This gun it seems will make me murder someone someday. Why am I thinking of killing people? This is horrible. I must throw the damn thing. Yes I will give it to the police first thing tomorrow morning. Surely. I switched on the TV thinking thus. I like watching songs. Music channels are my second most favorites. The favorites being the movie channels. Discovery comes a close third. Although in academic circles I would like to put forth myself as an ardent admirer of discovery.
Chapter3
I reached home. I live in a small studio apartment. One room with my bed, cupboard, TV and most of the luggage packed in there respective corners. There is a kitchen which I occassionally use to make maggi. I dont like eating maggi a lot. But I dont know anything else. And I hate cooking. My mom cooks well. But all that is unnecessary blabber. There is a full length mirror attached to the cupboard. I love looking at myself in it. Surely Narcissus will pale in front of me.
Now that I was back again in my one room suite, I took out my Gun and stood in front of the mirror. First, James Bond style. Then mumbHai style. I checked if there were any bullets inside. It was the new kind of gun, not the old revolver; you know where the bullet compartment revolves to get the new bullet ready. This had a magazine inserted in the handle. I have seen in movies, people pressing the gun and the magazine comes out. I tried that in several ways, but it won’t come out. There had to be something. I couldn't find it anywhere. A surefire way to know whether bullets were there or not was to fire. But if I fire then people will hear and they may call the police.
But wont I love to fire it once. Just to hear how it sounds and to see the sparks fly. Maybe if I went to a deserted place and fired no one will hear. I aimed my gun towards the sky through the window and ting tong. An electric shock went through my body starting from the legs through the trunk to my head and the arms and the gun fell from my hand. There was someone at the door. What to do? I slid the gun under the bed and ran to open the door. By this time I was breathing heavily, not so much from the running as from the shock. There's not much room to run anyways.
I opened the door to reveal the secretary of the society where I stay. He is a middle-aged man, most probably in his early 40s. Big thick mustache on a big round face. Most of the things about him were round. He had a well-rounded belly. Round shoulders and round eyes. Really I had never seen anyone with that kind of eyes before I met him. It was as if he was permanently staring with either a mix of surprise and terror or surprise and anger at you. Maybe the poor fellow never had any eyelids.
He seemed more of angry right now than terrorized. But one could never discern. He opened his mouth to say something, and suddenly stopped. Then he looked behind me into the room. He put his neck in through the door and surveyed the whole place as if I was hiding something. Could it be possible that he knew about the gun? No he was inside his flat when I came up. He couldn't have seen me. It must be something else.Finally he uttered something. Said, "We live in a society. Family. You bachelors! What do you think you are doing? Coming whenever you like and going whenever you like. Bringing girl friends. You also bring drinks. Don’t you?"
Let me clarify here that I have never brought any girl friends here. But I believe the previous occupant had brought some lady of dubious origins and had been thrown out for the same reason. And ever since I have been getting the punishment he deserved. But the fatass was right about the drinks. I do get my friends to come over to my place for drinks. We have quite a gala time. Come weekend and we plan it out. A full bottle of whiskey, 2 liters of coke, lots of snacks, lots of chicken and lots of food. The laptop is connected to the big speakers and the party starts. Its great fun to be bachelors. I don’t know why people want to get married.
I am sure it was this that had put a nail in the oldies head. We had a party on Saturday night, Sunday I was away with my friends and the fool got hold of me now on Monday evening. I couldn't think of what to say, while he started again, "You young people are the future of our country. Hah! Our country will go to the gallows. This breed is all alike. They have no responsibilities and all they do is drink and dance and make noise." At this point he had started shouting and my two neighbors had opened their doors to see what was going on. Now he hollered, "If you do not stop this, I will throw you out. I will call the police. What kind of parents has reared children like you". The bastard was testing my patience now. I swear I would have hit him hard on the nose or poked his round eyes out if it had not been for those ladies watching.
I said, "Listen Mr. Satyanath, everyone here knows how great a person you yourself are. You don’t have to shout at me. Shout as much as you want to your wife. We all know how much you beat her". This last sentence was said almost in a whisper, because it was such a sensitive issue. This ignited the old bastard, and he flew at me. But I was ready for any such assault and jabbed my right fist right in his belly. That dazed him for a moment. And then he kept swearing at me. But I closed the door and came back. I swear to God, if I were a gangster I would have killed him. If someday I do turn a gangster, he will be the first one I will kill. Gangster! Gun! I had a gun. The bastard beats his wife. Even if I kill him it wont be considered a sin. At least not up there. As for down here, I could always take him in some dark alley.
Oh no! What am I thinking? This gun it seems will make me murder someone someday. Why am I thinking of killing people? This is horrible. I must throw the damn thing. Yes I will give it to the police first thing tomorrow morning. Surely. I switched on the TV thinking thus. I like watching songs. Music channels are my second most favorites. The favorites being the movie channels. Discovery comes a close third. Although in academic circles I would like to put forth myself as an ardent admirer of discovery.
Chapter3
Chapter 3
I haven't yet told you about Tania. She is this really cool kid who enjoys life like the rain drops falling from the sky. She is kinda cute too. Though not an Aishwarya, but still I sometimes feel I could have tried harder to get a bigger share of her attention. The thing is she is not just cute, but also quite intelligent. And intelligent girls are a bit difficult to persuade in the beginning. Moreover her beauty also makes her a bit unapproachable.
That doesn't mean that we are not good friends. In fact we are great friends. We call up each other quite often. She likes me for being so funny. Infact i think she kind of revers me. I mean who wouldn't be in awe of such a charming and intelligent man. You must believe me when I tell you that she is head over heels for me. She just keeps her distance to get a lot of bhav.
The other day, I was standing on the pavement waiting for a bus. Suddenly I saw her coming towards me. Seeing her walking towards me was a visual treat. She was wearing this brown leather jacket and a cape. skin shining in the morning glow of the sun. Smiling like a kid. My heart was overwhelmed with her beauty and I had to take my eyes off her to get a breather. Just then I saw a small little kid running after his ball into the middle of the road from the other side. There was a truck coming at full speed. I thought for a moment that I would hear screeching brakes. But nothing happened. It would have hit the kid had it not been for yours truly. I darted through the traffic like a bullet and caught hold of the child in one hand while flying off my last foot on the road. The very next moment there I was on the other side with the child in my hands and the truck behind my back.
People started gathering and congratulating me. I was feeling so nice. I saw Tania come too. But she stood a little away from the crowd. I like this characteristic in her. The decency and feminine pride. After the crowd thinned a bit I went towards her. She hugged me. The warmth of her body permeated through me. And her smell. Ohh.... I can't describe. I just wanted to melt in there. Just then the truck that I had so tactfully defied its kill came honking behind me on to the pavement along with a deluge of cars and bikes. I suddenly felt like I was going to die. Why were they coming to kill me? And why were they running towards the pavement? My heart was thumping like the huge aircraft engine on that Supersonic Jet they were showing.
And then I woke up. To my heartwarming relief the blaring horns was nothing but my mobile ringing. My heart was still thumping pretty heavily, and saliva dripping like the viscous, colorless blood of african dragonfly from my mouth. It was a call from Anil, my colleague at the office. There had been a small hitch in the programmes we ran every night. Thankfully I didn't have to do much of talking and the problem was resolved by Anil. After the call was over, I checked out channel [V] for some hot steamy number. It was already 12 and some rock band was playing some jhing bang. I switched the damn thing off and thought of the nice dream I was having.
Why does it happen with me that everytime something good is happening, something bad has also to happen? That roller coaster funda of life holds on to me as if its own life were at stake. the phone rang again. I didn't want to pick it up. Why do people call at such alte hours. It kept ringing for sometime. Then I checked. You wont believe me, it was Tania. And unbelievable as it may seem, I was not even sleeping. so it was not another dream. It really was her. I jumped up from the bed, cleared my throat, cleaned my mouth of the saliva in one nice stroke of the back of my hand, and was ready for the onslaught.
"Hello", I said, picking up the call.
And her melodious voice rang through. "Hiiii!! How are you doing? Were you sleeping? Did I disturb you?". She is like that. Very caring and very fast while talking. So many questions for a sleeping man. But her voice definitely had some exhilarating fresh quality to it.
"Hiii!! No I am not sleeping. I mean I was sleeping, but not any more. How are you?".
"I am fine. Just thought hadn't talked to you since such a long time, so... You know? My dad presented me a doggy last week. It's so cute. It sleeps with me on my bed".
Lucky sonuvabitch. I said, "Whow! Thats so nice. What breed is it?". As if I cared.
"It's a cute little Golden Retriever". I suddenly remembered my dream. Was she holding that dog in her hands while she was coming towards me? Or was it some book? I dont know. Cant seem to remember.
Agh!!
Agh!!
I said, "You know I was dreaming about you a little while back".
"Really?", she said, "What were you dreaming?".
I told her my dream. masking the last bit about the hug and smell part. I mean one cant cross the boundary at such an early stage. She is like a Goddess up there for me.
"Whow, you are a real hero. You should get a medal for your bravery", she mocked. You know, it hurts when someone you aspire for mocks you like this, even if jocularly. You want to be a hero for her. Her superman, but end up being a Clark Kent instead. You see, everytime the bloody roller coaster sticks to me. She calls me up to brighten me up and then mocks me to throw me into gloom. Anyways, I try to pick up my dropped ego a bit and tell her about my recent acquisitions in books. I think we talked for about half an hour about this and that. And finally she said she was going to Mahabaleshwar with her friends, and if Iwanted I could join her.
Chapter 4
Sleeping through the night is always difficult after getting a call from her. It’s like throwing away the honey after you have harvested it from the honey combs. Who in his right mind would do that? I might have had a few dreams as well in the night. She is like that. Always makes me dream of her. Morning brought back the memories of the time spent together. Office seems like drudgery in all this. But I still have to go. While getting ready, I couldn't think of anything else. I mean I am a flirt and all that, but when it comes to her, something takes over me. Really!!
I remember that one time, when we had met up in a cafe round the corner at Bandra West. She was looking lovely as ever. Her eyes sparkled with innocence. Nose high as usual with pride. She had this habit of rolling paper napkins into thin straws and throwing them around. I don’t know why she does that. But then there are so many things mysterious about her. She has a way of...
"God damn you. You idiot! Dekh ke nahin chala sakta kya? @#^%$#77".
The bastard Auto-rickshaw driver. Why do they allow these people on the roads anyway? I mean look at the way he swerved man. I think I have a dangerous liaison with Auto drivers. I am giving the indicator near this bandra kurla complex diversion and this guy is coming out of nowhere and trying to hit me. Anyways, the horns were honking behind me and I moved on. I was really raging. I think instead of vehicles moving on roads, it would be better if roads themselves moved. It will be like a combination of a train and a conveyor belt, only with automatic diversions and all. Near the gates to the bank, I remembered - THE GUN. I forgot to bring it. You of course know what prompted me to forget it in the first place and what made me remember it. But what’s to be done now? I can't give it to the police. It's still lying under my bed, where I had pushed it last night. Maybe I will bring it tomorrow. Or maybe not. Heck what difference does it make? Will the police really ever search me? I mean I at least can show this around to my friends. I could become a hero and all. Maybe I will keep it. Anyways I will decide about this later. Right now need to check the mails and start with the work.
The mails always have something or the other which keep one busy. But even more than that the thing that keeps people busy in office is gossip. And it is so much more convenient in the cubicle type setups where you don’t have to even standup to talk to the next guy. Today's topic had inadvertently to be the current cricket series. Flintoffs and Sehwags ruled the day. But my heart was set at Mahabaleswar.
A lot of google search later I got to know that it is a place to be enjoyed in the rainy season and best spent with a friend of the opposite sex looking at the sceneries or trekking in the curvy steep slopes of the hills. I think it will be great to go on a trek there. I can take my gun for some original hunting experience. Yeah it will be great fun.
Oops it’s already 12 pm. I have to complete these reports by evening. Boss leaves office everyday quite late. He expects everyone to not just complete all work in time but also sit late.
I remember that one time, when we had met up in a cafe round the corner at Bandra West. She was looking lovely as ever. Her eyes sparkled with innocence. Nose high as usual with pride. She had this habit of rolling paper napkins into thin straws and throwing them around. I don’t know why she does that. But then there are so many things mysterious about her. She has a way of...
"God damn you. You idiot! Dekh ke nahin chala sakta kya? @#^%$#77".
The bastard Auto-rickshaw driver. Why do they allow these people on the roads anyway? I mean look at the way he swerved man. I think I have a dangerous liaison with Auto drivers. I am giving the indicator near this bandra kurla complex diversion and this guy is coming out of nowhere and trying to hit me. Anyways, the horns were honking behind me and I moved on. I was really raging. I think instead of vehicles moving on roads, it would be better if roads themselves moved. It will be like a combination of a train and a conveyor belt, only with automatic diversions and all. Near the gates to the bank, I remembered - THE GUN. I forgot to bring it. You of course know what prompted me to forget it in the first place and what made me remember it. But what’s to be done now? I can't give it to the police. It's still lying under my bed, where I had pushed it last night. Maybe I will bring it tomorrow. Or maybe not. Heck what difference does it make? Will the police really ever search me? I mean I at least can show this around to my friends. I could become a hero and all. Maybe I will keep it. Anyways I will decide about this later. Right now need to check the mails and start with the work.
The mails always have something or the other which keep one busy. But even more than that the thing that keeps people busy in office is gossip. And it is so much more convenient in the cubicle type setups where you don’t have to even standup to talk to the next guy. Today's topic had inadvertently to be the current cricket series. Flintoffs and Sehwags ruled the day. But my heart was set at Mahabaleswar.
A lot of google search later I got to know that it is a place to be enjoyed in the rainy season and best spent with a friend of the opposite sex looking at the sceneries or trekking in the curvy steep slopes of the hills. I think it will be great to go on a trek there. I can take my gun for some original hunting experience. Yeah it will be great fun.
Oops it’s already 12 pm. I have to complete these reports by evening. Boss leaves office everyday quite late. He expects everyone to not just complete all work in time but also sit late.
Friday, July 08, 2005
Fotos from Assam
The first thing that you notice about the land is its greenery. Coming from Delhi parched by the fierce summer sun, the sheer vibrant color of it all swept me off my feet – all I could see from the plane was acres and acres of green paddy fields and greener forest-land. And in between, vast swathes of water: the Brahmaputra and its tributaries meander through the plains, separating, turning, twisting and coming together again, to form a giant criss-cross puzzle of islands and lakes. And besides these water-ways have sprung up the habitations, marked out by the trees and shiny tin roofs; lines which stand out in the face of paddy-green and muddy blue…
I had a quaint old guesthouse which was almost colonial: with red tiled roofs, ,and a delightful little garden…
I had a quaint old guesthouse which was almost colonial: with red tiled roofs, ,and a delightful little garden…
The view from my balcony was awesome. The Disang flowed behind, a swirl of turbulent muddy water, fed by the generous rains…
and here’s the other side .. taken a bit later into the evening…
As you came out of the guest house, and went towards the plant, there was .. what else ? A vast, placid pond, again !
I loved the way the lilies looked, so I took a closer-up ..
And then there were some local residents, who wouldn’t be hurried along ..
Finally, I got someone to click me in one of the tea-gardens nearby. Couldn’t get my camera on the days that the workers with their wide-rimmed hats and bamboo wicker-baskets were picking leaves.. so I guess just me will have to do !
Thursday, July 07, 2005
The Patent Revolution
Given a chance we can give IBM a run for its money. The way we are churning out innovative ideas to bring in new products with usages, that people would never have imagined, I am feeling we are no less than those geeks cramming their brains in those IBM , Bell cubicles (if not better). I wish we had the zeal and enthusiasm to get these patented. Or some lifespring that would have compelled us to metamorphose these brilliant figments into something practical. Alas!! This time I will blame the laziness that this amazing monsoon has brought along. Any way here is an excerpt of the discussion(which has the potential of becoming as legendary as the celebrated Bohr-Heisenberg chat)
Place: The virtual meeting place of three talented souls
Participants:
The Visionary: He sees things that never were and asks why not
The Missionary: He sees things that are, and asks how/why
The crusader: He doesn’t see things the way they are but the way he is
VISIONARY: abe sahu ek naya b-plan socha tha... logon ko indian aur english toilets main bahut problem hta hai... i mean someone likes squatting, while someone likes sitting... so can we have a toilet which will be both... i mean there will be a lever which when raised will increase the height of the toilet and put a seat on it... the seat will otherwise be standing vertically... plus there will be two pedestals for squatters which will be kind of fixed at a little above ground level... the distnace between indian and western toilets will be gapped by a collapsible plastic thing... (same way the distance between virginity and promiscuity is gapped by the expandable plastic things LOL )
MISSIONARY: tera idea achchaa hai ... and not just from the angle of indian/western . I think one applicability lies in terms of height of individual .. salaa western toilets, if their height is adjustable like chairs, then they would suit every member of the family from bachcha to whoever is tallest ..
CRUSADER: Mast hai.. bahut sahi… me bhi kain baar socha tha.. but itna technology fechnology dimesions me mene socha nahi tha…
Abe mere paas ek aur hai… This is for the Indian Roads… What I see is bloody nobody looks at these indicators while taking turns and all.. if you are taking the turn, switching on the indicator only marginally increases your chances of not getting hit.. but what improves the chances significantly is when you have a pillion-rider who waves his/her hand before the turn… if it is a girls hand the marauders become so careful that sometimes they get hit them selves… SO I was planning that we will manufacture a kind of Indicators that will pop out a girls hand with bangles and big nails and all.. and start waving asking for the pass/turn… I guess that will have a great market…initially the young turks will by it blown over by the sheer ingenuity of the product and buy it, we can position it that way.. and as the effectivity of the product is proven on the roads they will be adapted by the masses in hordes.. watsay??
VISIONARY(Doubles up as the missionary and sees things that are as missionary is in a bogus meeting): suppose banda apne ghar ke paas aake right turn le raha hai.. uski biwi ghar pe uska intezaar kar rahi hai... achanak she sees a female's hands coming out of hte rear seat... what will happen to their marriage? and leave wife, usko to husband kaise bhi samjha dega.. what about clients, bosses, friends... sab kya sochenge?
CRUSADER: Arre Listen, Every body will already know that these are fake hands and all… The biggest advantage that this product will offer is that people in general will be more cautious to physical movements indicating to slow down rather than some dumb-a*s light which they might conveniently overlook… (we may think of incorporating some AI as well so that the hand starts waving automatically as soon as it sense that there is a turn ahead…)… Girl's hand theory is based on a study that more than 50% of the traffic rule breakers are perverts as well ( 42.3% of statistics is made on the spot.. )
VISIONARY: Oh Bingo… I can sense another usage of this product as well…. this can be utilized as a great camouflage to offer hitch to big-bosomed beauties on the roads by meek souls in dread of their wives, bosses, friends, clients et al.. If the primary usage does not buy enuff users, I am sure this secondary usage definitely will…
Place: The virtual meeting place of three talented souls
Participants:
The Visionary: He sees things that never were and asks why not
The Missionary: He sees things that are, and asks how/why
The crusader: He doesn’t see things the way they are but the way he is
VISIONARY: abe sahu ek naya b-plan socha tha... logon ko indian aur english toilets main bahut problem hta hai... i mean someone likes squatting, while someone likes sitting... so can we have a toilet which will be both... i mean there will be a lever which when raised will increase the height of the toilet and put a seat on it... the seat will otherwise be standing vertically... plus there will be two pedestals for squatters which will be kind of fixed at a little above ground level... the distnace between indian and western toilets will be gapped by a collapsible plastic thing... (same way the distance between virginity and promiscuity is gapped by the expandable plastic things LOL )
MISSIONARY: tera idea achchaa hai ... and not just from the angle of indian/western . I think one applicability lies in terms of height of individual .. salaa western toilets, if their height is adjustable like chairs, then they would suit every member of the family from bachcha to whoever is tallest ..
CRUSADER: Mast hai.. bahut sahi… me bhi kain baar socha tha.. but itna technology fechnology dimesions me mene socha nahi tha…
Abe mere paas ek aur hai… This is for the Indian Roads… What I see is bloody nobody looks at these indicators while taking turns and all.. if you are taking the turn, switching on the indicator only marginally increases your chances of not getting hit.. but what improves the chances significantly is when you have a pillion-rider who waves his/her hand before the turn… if it is a girls hand the marauders become so careful that sometimes they get hit them selves… SO I was planning that we will manufacture a kind of Indicators that will pop out a girls hand with bangles and big nails and all.. and start waving asking for the pass/turn… I guess that will have a great market…initially the young turks will by it blown over by the sheer ingenuity of the product and buy it, we can position it that way.. and as the effectivity of the product is proven on the roads they will be adapted by the masses in hordes.. watsay??
VISIONARY(Doubles up as the missionary and sees things that are as missionary is in a bogus meeting): suppose banda apne ghar ke paas aake right turn le raha hai.. uski biwi ghar pe uska intezaar kar rahi hai... achanak she sees a female's hands coming out of hte rear seat... what will happen to their marriage? and leave wife, usko to husband kaise bhi samjha dega.. what about clients, bosses, friends... sab kya sochenge?
CRUSADER: Arre Listen, Every body will already know that these are fake hands and all… The biggest advantage that this product will offer is that people in general will be more cautious to physical movements indicating to slow down rather than some dumb-a*s light which they might conveniently overlook… (we may think of incorporating some AI as well so that the hand starts waving automatically as soon as it sense that there is a turn ahead…)… Girl's hand theory is based on a study that more than 50% of the traffic rule breakers are perverts as well ( 42.3% of statistics is made on the spot.. )
VISIONARY: Oh Bingo… I can sense another usage of this product as well…. this can be utilized as a great camouflage to offer hitch to big-bosomed beauties on the roads by meek souls in dread of their wives, bosses, friends, clients et al.. If the primary usage does not buy enuff users, I am sure this secondary usage definitely will…
Monday, July 04, 2005
Mood : relaxed
How do u feel like getting a holiday in the midst of a hectic work schedule ?
Well, what if your work itself was such that u feel you are taking a holiday ? Nothing much to do, just come to office and collect your daily paycheck. Stay on till office closing time doing your blogging and chatting, then go out and enjoy the sylvan surroundings.
Sounds good, doesnt it ? Well after a week it turns pretty sort of boring.
I will need to go back to Delhi tomorrow. And while I cant say that I will be absolutely swamped, right now I feel something to do would be better than doing nothing.
All said however, I do hope such breaks keep coming my way !
Well, what if your work itself was such that u feel you are taking a holiday ? Nothing much to do, just come to office and collect your daily paycheck. Stay on till office closing time doing your blogging and chatting, then go out and enjoy the sylvan surroundings.
Sounds good, doesnt it ? Well after a week it turns pretty sort of boring.
I will need to go back to Delhi tomorrow. And while I cant say that I will be absolutely swamped, right now I feel something to do would be better than doing nothing.
All said however, I do hope such breaks keep coming my way !
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