Category: Yesterday

  • Before Baazigar

    a couple of days back, there were some VIPs in office, and all of us were asked to be on our best behaviour, and loud noises were met with cold glares that said ‘dont you know they are here?’…..
    it took me to a whole long time back , to a school which used to have school inspectors, who, like the mythological king mahabali (for whose visit we celebrate onam..grrr, i am digressing) used to come once a year to monitor the school’s standards.he used to visit all the classes, and sometimes, if he actually took his job seriously, visit some classes twice. now, all teachers had their ‘poster boys’ who were chosen to answer the questions posed by the inspector. (it reminds me of the first scene in troy, where, to avoid the losses of battle, the two kings let their best fighters take on each other, oh, but i am digressing again).
    once, the inspector refused to let the teacher choose, and insisted he would leave the question open,but little did he know that the wily teacher had anticipated this possibility too, and had forbidden anyone else but the chosen one to raise their hand. but the inspector was adamant, he posed the question to the girl next to the chosen one.
    a little history, the job of the chosen one wasnt as easy as it looks on the monitor. you should remember that he was the flagbearer of the entire class, and carried the expectations of the teacher and perhaps the school itself. it was not confidence that killed the butterflies in his stomach, it was ambivalent feelings – if he got the answer right, he would continue to recieve adulation as the chosen one, if he got it wrong, well, the wretched job would be taken off his shoulders.. and for the few butterflies that did remain, you can blame the ego…
    back to the story now, the girl didnt know the answer, she looked pleadingly at the chosen one,but with the inspector staring at him, he chickened and stared straight ahead….
    for the girl, the poster boy had transformed into the first anti hero of our generation.. it certainly wasn’t SRK !!
    and since we are on the subject, here are a couple of toons..um, not exactly for children, but..

    until next time, know your role….

  • Game Theory Revisited

    1978 : rattles (educated guess)
    1980 : assorted dolls, building blocks
    1982 : wooden ksrtc (kerala govt transport) bus,lorry,plastic cars
    1984 : plastic/metal robots, Lego (thanks to dad’s US trip), guns (toy, that is), snakes and ladders
    1986 : Rambo stuff (bow & arrow, guns..the works), cricket, ludo
    1988 : scrabbles, hockey
    1990 : monopoly, indoor cricket
    1992 : mortal combat, steet fighter, memory!!
    1994 : cricket, dumb charades, walkman
    1996 : roadrash, Life
    1998 : claw, mario
    2000 : need for speed, duke
    2002 : snake, mpeg downloads 😉
    2004 : monopoly, claw, colony, discman……

    once upon a long time ago, hours could be spent playing any of these games..over time, the sheer joy the toys used to give, has given way to faster bouts of fatigue/boredom and the quest for an elusive ‘something’… growing up or growing down, who’s to say? ….ironical that more the choices, more the intensity of the quest……
    the toys have changed, the child remains…

  • Relative Values

    These days, i find i am ‘doing’ the things that ‘happened’ to me in childhood, to this generation of kids (perverts, mind your mind !!)..simply because i am reaching the stage of life that my relatives were in,at that time…Relatives were important initially coz of the attention they gave, and perhaps also because of the favourable comparisons (favourable to me, that is..hehe) they made with their offspring…. and it was only a sidenote that they used to give pocket money when they left….
    unfortunately, increased exposure to the material world gradually converted the sidenote to a headline..well, thats the excuse..:)..gradually their visits became important because they became a major source of revenue… i will refrain from commenting on the status of the comparisons…
    On my last visit to kerala, i ended up on the ‘relative’ side of things… quite obviously, i wasnt so naive that i couldnt understand the relatively low value of affection(for the kids, that is)… i was smug in the knowledge that, at the time of saying bye, i would be bestowing some surprise pocket money on the ‘kids’…. but i realised how ‘out of touch’ i was with the world, when hours before departure, the ‘kids’started asking me how much i planned to give them…. the only solace was that i had matched their expectations in value…at least i think i did… shudder to think of comparisons!! Innocence was not lost, it wasnt there at all!! …*sulk*
    until next time, get some values!!

  • < /manuscrypts.rediffblogs.com >

    actually the title is self explanatory.but since readers are readers, an explanation is the least i can do. i believe that since blogging is a mode of self expression, the posts lose objectivity after a certain amount of time and become monotonous, almost like a broken record, like old wine in a new bottle…
    to be very honest, i am extremely sad at going off rediff..like i told my wife, its like moving out of your first home, it hurts.. but sometimes the new home is just better, and you can only fight the temptation for so long. i have lost the fight, for now….
    and though i plan to be back, somewhere, i hope to keep this one like asimov’s second foundation, hidden from the mainstream and safe to keep my spirit of blogging alive, and remind me of how it all started….
    so, until i surface again, its adieu…..
    and in
    manuscrypts trivia
    this seems to be a perfect fit for the occasion
    If you’re leaving close the door.
    I’m not expecting people anymore.
    Hear me grieving, I’m lying on the floor.
    Whether I’m drunk or dead I really ain’t too sure.
    I’m a blind man, I’m a blind man and my world is pale.
    When a blind man cries, Lord, you know there ain’t no sadder tale.
    Had a friend once in a room,
    had a good time but it ended much too soon.
    In a cold month in that room
    we found a reason for the things we had to do.
    I’m a blind man, I’m a blind man, now my room is cold.
    When a blind man cries, Lord, you know he feels it from his soul.

    “When a blind man cries” – Deep Purple

    “< /manuscrypts.rediffblogs.com >”

  • UnWind Biking

    Most of these posts are born when i am riding back home, its a good time to unwind… theres such a lot of ‘watchable’ things happening around – traffic snarls, people’s expressions, battles for the space ahead which finally become ego battles and possibly accidents, people trying to reach home as fast as they can..theres something about getting back home after work that makes the entire day worthwhile 🙂
    more often than not the ‘wind in the face’ feeling takes me back around a couple of years…. to Goa…. 2 years of business management and pleasure…hehe… we had a causeway near the insti (short for Goa Institute of Management 🙂 ), and almost every other day, we used to go for drives, to crib about classes and assignments and tests, to trade gossip, to check out the movies in Panjim, to visit Dona Paula, ‘the cross’ and ‘governor’s point’, to ogle the firangs, to plan weekend trips to colva, palolem, anjuna, calangute, baga, vagator (and the chapora fort, made famous in DCH?), arambol…to chaat near miramar, to chat about life after the insti and after Goa, but mostly to enjoy the ‘wind on the face ‘ feeling…
    but before the jpeg with the hunk on a chopper design bike, reality check says i fail on both counts..hehe, neither a hunk nor have a bike bike, its a kiney, which evaded police in goa for two years (i didnt have a license and it had a kerala registration, so the cops loved it..hehe)..oh no, the skeletons are tumbling out…so i’d better stop…but yeah, i have to write at least a couple of posts about those two years…there are tales and there are tales….for me, my life in goa is best captured by Floyd’s “high hopes”..
    unfortunately, have had to bunk all my alumni meets except one… something like lucky ali’s lyrics -“pehle fursat thi, ab hasrat hain samaakar, ek aisi uljhan hai meri……” 🙁
    meanwhile, these days, with the rains in bangalore, theres another kind of UnWind biking … if you have seen the bajaj ad – a fully dressed guy getting in the shower, getting out all wet, then riding on the bike, dripping all the while, and coz of the bike speed , the clothes are dry, except for the butt, coz its resting on the seat..they call it wind biking… now, because of the rains , while i ride back, all of me gets wet except for the butt, so i call it UnWind Biking !! …..
    and in
    manuscrypts trivia
    Just to prove that some things never work 100%.
    Go to language tools on google, type in “my mom is nice and cool.” and convert it from English to Spanish.
    Then copy & paste the answer into the translate box and convert from Spanish back to English.
    and seen outside a secondhand shop : WE EXCHANGE ANYTHING – BICYCLES, WASHING MACHINES, ETC. WHY NOT BRING YOUR WIFE ALONG AND GET A WONDERFUL BARGAIN?