Saturday, January 15, 2011

Subtle Shifts and Swings...

Happy New Year everyone!

Now this is a bit of a serious coming-of-age type of post. While I don't expect you to roll around in the aisles clutching your sides guffawing your hearts out, I do think that I will see a few wry smiles and little nods of agreement as you go through this post.

Since I gained awareness the fondest memories I have are attributed to surprise announcements of holidays. Some of my favourites include the one in which we went all the way to school through pouring rain only to realize that even the huge, spread out school had to be shut down due to flooding. Brilliant.

Such things were like manna from heaven, falling unpredictably in your lap. You may not even do anything interesting all day, but you have a big grin plastered all over your face while you do, well, nothing.

So now to the gist of this post. Last to last Friday I had a meeting at work and in the course of the meeting I found out that next Friday (i.e. last Friday...ok, ok, so I got a bit late in writing this post and the timelines got a bit confusing. Live with it)was off.

Now this was just the way these heavenly gifts come. One moment you're looking at another long five day week, and the next you stare into an excel sheet and realize that the week is going to be truncated.

But that's when it hit me. Instead of having visions of rainbows and sunshine and all things nice, my reaction was "Damn! This is going to impact the deliverables of all my projects." I actually found myself cursing whoever gave that day off! Ridiculous, isn't it?

Now,I've realized that the shift is happening. The innocent days when holidays brought unmitigated joy seem to be over :(

Added:
Went to Eagleton Resorts on Wednesday for a company outing. Got back on the golf driving range after so long. It was great fun.I've still got some parts of my golf swing and after a few initial hiccups I hit the ball fairly well. And I also held an impromptu golf clinic for 4-5 colleagues who had not played before. Fun :)

17720

Sunday, December 26, 2010

Not Quite the Lab You Thought...

One of the cutest animated series is Dexter's Laboratory. I'm sure all of you remember the show - it was before all the anime and other animated stuff on TV that I don't understand. In fact, only this evening I was sitting in Cafe Terra (ex-Belgian Cafe) in Koramangla giggling away at the Dexter's Lab comics as I had my weekly garden omelet there.

Now the Dexter this post is about is, well, similar in some senses. He is a loner who likes to focus on his work, has an interfering sister who he loves in his own strange way and yes, he has his own sterile lab.

Except a couple of things.

He's a serial killer.

...and he doesn't wear spectacles.

I've been obsessed with Dexter for the last few days. I had seen the first season earlier, but even though I liked it then I didn't get into an obsession about it. But an ex-colleague from work reintroduced me to the series. More importantly he also gave me a couple of seasons of Dexter.

Since then I've watched three seasons (after begging a friend with a 4 mbps internet connection to download the latest season in a jiffy) in a row. And these are 50 minute episodes. So yes, Friday night was spent staring at my TV as I ran through nine episodes!

Spoiler:

I recommend the show if you are ok with turning a blind eye to a few things in the show - the childish ease with which Dexter is able to commit his 'justice' and dispose of the bodies without any investigation by the police force. Yes, he is a genius and is extremely meticulous in cleaning up after himself but still it gets my goat that there is absolutely no task force or team that neither the Miami Metro Police nor even the missing persons department have on his case.

17575

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Problem hi Problem...

Once a decade, an event occurs that changes the outlook of a whole generation. An event so profound that everything else that happens in the decade pales in comparison.

I am talking about the release of a decade-defining movie.

Some movies come immediately to mind, Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge (DDLJ) in the nineties, Dil Chahta hai in the 00's. These are movies that have made someone as lazy as me get off my butt and go watch the movie in a theatre in the first few days of its release. So DDLJ was seen in the first week while DCH ranked a second show on the day of its release (ah, that legendary movie-bound bunk of Prof. Alok Kumar's class)

But yesterday I saw the first movie of my life in the first day-first show.

Yes, the holy grail has been achieved. The movie that will define the next 10 years has hit the theatres! 2010-2019 has had that slot already filled up. No, no I do not think there is going to be any movie that can even show a light to the movie I'm about to describe in this post.

Sigh, but I just don't seem to be able to begin. Much like iconic movies of the non-chronological genre like Pulp Fiction (the greatest ever) and Memento (well, it was mostly in reverse, but had some interesting cut scenes) the Movie'10, as I shall refer to it from now on, also follows a non-chronological order. The great thing about Movie'10 is that you can come into the theatre at any time, start watching the flick from any point, and you would not miss a thing about the plot. It would raise the same emotions in you whether you watch it from the very beginning, or manage to catch just 10 minutes of the climax scene! Brilliant, ain't it?

Movie'10 also seeks to display the histrionic abilities of many stars. What better could we, the humble audience, ask for? Much like the intense multi-starrer, Reservoir Dogs, Movie'10 also brings together a motley crew of stars that you haven't seen in the theatre for a long time. This great multi-starrer has it all - a former Miss Universe, a former Munna bhai, a former '24' star, a former 'action' hero, a former villain and a former I-had-hair-once-upon-a-time guy. What else could you hope for?

Coming back to the plot, as with most really deep and intellectual movies the plot is difficult to decipher and comprehend. In fact Movie'10 is so deep and intellectual that try as much as I could, I could not find any plot at all! Can you beat that? How brilliant is that, right? A complex cornucopia of sub-plots and set pieces. Gags randomly scattered in a collage of forced 'jokes'. The director was obviously mocking at the crass and low-class humour that seems to be gaining popularity amongst the cinema goers of today. What a brilliant ruse - pretending to have made a crappy, crass, loud and clueless movie while actually he wants to show the error in our ways. Hats off Anees Bazmi! Truly, you are a philosopher of the highest order.

The movie I am talking about, and one that should be on your must-watch list immediately, is No Problem. What are you waiting for? Go, run. Get the tickets and come out of the theatre thanking me!


PS: I have to put a note here for the small part of my reader base that isn't quite playing with a full deck of cards or I couldn't live with myself.
This is a sarcastic piece.DON'T WATCH THIS CRAPPY MOVIE!

PS 2: Always, always read till the end!

17450

Monday, November 1, 2010

Plight of the Poor Tomato...

Hi,

To start, a quick riddle:

I am round.
I am red.
I have seeds.
I am a fruit.

Ok maybe not the best riddle I have ever crafted. Especially in conjunction with the title of the post. Bit of a give away, eh?

But I blame my disturbed state of mind for this lack of creativity. Would you be making flummoxing riddles if you were dealing with existential dilemmas? Would you spend your time carefully honing the edge on the punchline of a mere riddle when you were wondering why you were ever born (or grown)?

I grew up on a farm surrounded with others of my tribe. We little green spheres grew on creepers with stars in our eyes. Us little green ones watched in awe as older tomatoes turned a bright shade of red. Turning this way and that they managed to get the light glinting off their lustrous coats as they awaited the greatest adventure any vegetable could look forward to.

To be caressed by human fingers, turned this way and that, and finally being chosen to be plucked! We heard rumours and epic stories about the adventures these picked tomatoes underwent. Laying down their lives for achieving what they were born to be. A ketchup here, a curry there or even to serve in the humble green salad.

What a thrill it was when I first sensed the faint murmur of adulthood. I could see the other green tomatoes stealing glances at me as I was the first one to grow a faint aura of orange. I was so proud! I was growing well, the orange hue was fast turning into the deep deep red of the best tomatoes, our heroes who hold our banner high in the vegetable / fruit world. I could sense it.I was destined for greatness.

And indeed the journey started with great promise. The moment the farmer came in to examine our plant he reached out, almost hungrily, towards me. It was my proudest moment. The farmer took less than a second to examine me. I was such a perfect specimen that to be picked was but a given. I looked back at my still-green brethren. And I will not lie, I could see that they were jealous and I felt elated.

Maybe this was the folly for which I find myself punished now. Who knows, karma works in such mysterious ways.

I braced myself for my adventure. I had heard that the ripest tomatoes were taken to the back of the kitchen and converted into fresh ketchup. While this was an honourable adventure I wanted to retain my essence a bit longer. I knew I was a good specimen of my tribe and would've loved to be in front of the final customer. Afterall to reach the table more or less intact I would be able to see the glow and awe on the faces of the diners as they reverentially partook me.

"This is a bright red one. Let's keep it as an accompaniment"

I could've died when I heard this. I thanked God and mother-creeper for the great genes they had bestowed on me. I was going to be showcased. No better career could a tomato have. I was going to be a hero amongst tomatoes.

I knew things couldn't be without pain. Lofty goals are seldom achieved without sacrifice. And so it was that I took the searing pain of getting cut into two in my stride. I was nearing my destiny and this was no time to be overwhelmed.

But my preparation was still not complete. The chef took me and gently fried me a shallow dish of oil. Ah, more pain. But I could see by the smile he had on his face as the flavour wafted up that I was still performing beautifully. I smiled as I knew I was nearing the fulfillment of my ultimate destiny.

I was part of an English breakfast ordered by a discerning customer. As I was gently lowered onto an exquisite plate I could see a mound of scrambled eggs, some baked beans, a fried egg, some mushrooms, some bacon and a couple of sausages. Oh what joy, I was the only one leading the charge for vegetables. A leading part on debut! I was delirious with joy (I hardly considered the mushrooms as worthy characters in this production of 'The Breakfast').

However, little was I to know what awaited me. Sigh, how naive I was.

The knife and fork rose and I expected any moment to reach my zenith. To finally reach the fate I was preparing myself for since my childhood. To be devoured and savored and to satiate the human for whom I lay down my essence.

The eggs disappeared. Then the beans. Again and again my hopes were raised as the fork reached in my direction. Again and again my hopes were dashed as it picked out the other characters. Even the lowly mushrooms seemed to be preferred over me. Me, with my shiny coat and bright red colour. Oh, how my tribe would laugh at me if they saw me. Thank God that wasn't going to happen.

But alas, this was a day for complete annihilation. The human picked up a bottle. The ketchup that poured through seemed to be accusing, "Atleast we fulfilled our role. What did you do?" The torture continued till the entire plate was wiped out except one morsel. Moi. The bright hero who no one wanted.

And so I speak to you from the bottom of the garbage can. And I am not alone. Most of the bin seems to be filled with fried tomatoes. Proud, bright red tomatoes that seem to be bewildered at their fall from grace. Some of them have already lost their minds with grief while others are bawling with sorrow. I, however, have managed to hold on to my controlfor one final project. A plea to all chefs and humans - make ketchup of us, make us into soup, shred us or puree us but for heavens sake don't fry us as a side dish.

PS: The idea germinated when ST (legendary chronicler of itchy feet) and I met up for breakfast this Sunday after almost an year. While matters of international importance were discussed, we were unanimous in our support of the cause of the plight of the poor fried tomato. We believe it is never eaten, and we will not stand by while this torture is inflicted on the brave tomato.

17170

Thursday, October 7, 2010

A Red Light, a Crook and some Impropriety...

It was one of those days. As I stepped out of office the weather looked lovely. There was a light breeze blowing and the clouds didn't look like rain. I got this urge to just stretch my legs a little. Since I've joined my new job I've been spending 10-12 hours glued to my seat.

And that's not doing any good to my already moderately rotund frame.

I started with thinking that I'll walk for a while and then take an auto for the remaining distance. But I just kept going and going and walked all the way back home. (takes bow). Well, except for a small stopover at McDonalds (hehe...ow, my legs).

It was a long walk, some 5-6 kilometers (from Infantry Road to Indiranagar) but I should do it more often. Or at least some distance (as I mentioned earlier, ow, my legs). But not just for the exercise. A stroll through this city gives so many things to blog about!

A Red Light

I started getting into my stride and started feeling good about the walk some where near Brigade Road. Staying with the momentum I swung on MG Road towards Ulsoor with the same momentum. As I walked I felt I was being observed. I cast a quick glance and saw this highly made up woman. She wasn't what you (or anyone) would call pretty. Alright, alright she was butt ugly. And she was looking at me with a rather leery, longing look.

""Score! Swapnil, you still got it man! You haven't got that look for the last couple of years (ok, ok let's be honest five years). Damn if she was fifteen years younger and a little (or a lot) prettier you may have given her one of your trademark 'how you doin's'.

So I moved ahead with a little smirk. And less than fifteen meters later there it was again. An uglier (if that were possible), more heavily made up (if that were possible) was looking at me with a leerier (if that were possible) look.

Score! Swapnil you devil, you...

Wait. Two leery looks in less than fifteen meters and two minutes after a five year drought? Somethings fishy. 

Oh, yeah, the new after shave! Now it all makes sense. Didn't the ad say it drives the ladies crazy. And of course these fast moving consumer goods marketers do not lie in there ads. That would be just...wrong, wouldn't it?

So I swaggered ahead, and yes, you guessed it. A third specimen. Same make up, same leery lusty look. And out of the haze that my brain usually is a memory flashed through. PS and I were driving by that place quite late at night some months ago and I got curious about a line of women apparently standing there waiting for an auto.

"But there are so many autos standing right there PS, why don't they take one?"

PS: (Bemused look)"You're seriously asking me this question?"

SB: (Bemused look at his bemused look) "Yeah, why?"

PS: "How old are you?"

SB: "A number older than 20 yet laughably close to it"

PS: " Jackass, they are prostitutes. This row becomes a pick up point at night. The clients come, haggle with the women, haggle with the autos and take them to their places or cheap hotels, got it"

SB: (Clarity starting to dawn) "Ah"

(pause)

SB: "So...how do you know so much?"...snigger

PS: (pause)

PS: "Because my IQ is twice yours"

SB: (muttering) "Played the high IQ card again. Dog"

'Ah' was what I said then, and 'Oh' was what I said now as realization struck. Yes, ladies and gentlemen I was walking through the low end Red Light area in Bangalore. Thankfully it wasn't too late in the night so the place was still not really bustling with the clientele!

A Crook
And the walk was not over.

Just as I left the red zone (unharmed and with my honour intact, thanks for asking) I was accosted by another guy sitting on a bike. And he starts with the most fake American accent I've heard since that chap I knew who went to the US for two weeks and came back with the Texan drawl instead of his voice. (Yes, you. You know who you are!)


FAG (Fake Accent Guy (What? What did you think?)): "Excuse me, do you know a petrol pump nearby? I seem to have run out of gas (yes, not petrol)."

SSSB (Super Samaritan Swapnil Bhatnagar): "Yes, there is one around half a kilometer ahead."

FAG: "Oh, but you see I'm new to Bangalore. I came for an interview ten - fifteen days back. This bike is a friend's who's gone to his home in Chhatisgarh"

SSSB: (Confused) "Umm, ok"

FAG: "Actually I'm running low on cash and I don't have any credit card."

(Expectant pause)

SSSB: "Umm, well hard luck mate" Maybe I'd have believed you if you hadn't tried the fake accent to make you seem respectable stunt. You really think I'd be stupid enough to believe that you took a bike out and did not take money and have no plastic money at all? And you're here for a fifteen day long interview? Ok, how did you get to know about my IQ problem?

FAG: "Do you think if I give the petrol guy my cell phone..."

(Expectant pause 2)

SB: "Yeah, I think that would work. Good luck (with this stupid scam working)"


And some Impropriety
Now I don't know about you, I don't think a business establishment in which a man comes perilously close to another while measuring the in seam should be called

"Men's Touch Tailors" 

(Yes, it exists. On Ulsoor road)

16978