Knock knock
Who's there?
Doctor
Doctor who?
Exactly!
So as the rather lame knock knock joke tells you I've recently been fascinated by Doctor Who.
I remember as a kid I was introduced to the Doctor Who series of books by SR who used to live right behind my house. In fact I'd have to give credit to my two great childhood friends SR and MP. Both of them always had a lot of books-their relatives used to bring books as gifts just as mine bring shirts. And also my sister. She was brilliant academically and had a huge number of books she won as various prizes. I learned to devour books because of these two factors. Sadly, I'm not in touch with SR now and only intermittently so with MP. Ah, well, such is life.
Anyway, as you probably know Doctor Who books are about a Time Lord called the Doctor who travels across time and space in his beloved time machine cum spaceship TARDIS to have awesome alien adventures. He usually has a companion with him, mostly a wide eyed girl who eventually saves the day. Hang on, she doesn't save the day, but provides some insight which helps the Doctor save the day. No one can say the series is not about the Doctor!
Now another offshoot - I recently got myself a HD media player. This handy device has a 500GB storage and can directly connect to my TV so that I can watch all movies and TV series that I used to watch on my laptop on my TV. Very convenient and very easy. Its a recommended buy.
So how did this acquisition lead to my revisited fascination with Doctor Who? Well a colleague, well ex-colleague, had the first three seasons of the BBC produced series of the inimitable time traveler! I got the CDs, transfered them to my super cool media player and I'm set for a week of sheer laziness, curled up infront of the TV and cursing my decision to keep the fridge in the other corner of the room instead of within reaching distance from my vantage point. I've traveled with the Doctor from nearby solar system planets to faraway galaxies, from the ancient times to the very edge of the universe when all stars have died out. I've seen the Earth being devoured by the expanding sun and an ancient mechanism that trapped the Devil in orbit around a black hole. I've seen humanities greatest perils to humanities greatest victories. All. in.the.TV.series.
And now season 4 is being downloaded, and I'm stocking the fridge and trying to maneuver it closer to where I sit (aaarghh my back!). Come join me on more adventures. Drop by my apartment, but remember its BYOB*
*Bring your own beanbag
16122
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
The Greens of Life...
Tee up
Have you read Heart of a Goof by PG Wodehouse?
It's a set of nine stories all based on the life and times and the travails of golfers. In true Wodehouse fashion he weaves parallels between life and golf with golf winning over in terms of importance. It's been a while since I last read it but I remember closing the book with the widest smile possible and the intense desire to go and play immediately to get immersed in the parallel universe of putts, drives, greens, bunkers and roughs.
Unfortunately it was around 3 in the morning so I couldn’t really action this desire.
Also, not having ever properly played before was also a rather minor hindrance.
I recently read another novel set around golf. It’s called ‘The Amateurs’ by John Niven. The tone of the book can be ascertained by the quote that the novel starts with:
It’s story of a man’s struggles in life to improve his handicap. Oh, and there’s also the small matter of his cheating wife and her lover conspiring to murder the lover’s wife by hiring the man’s brother!
Another amazing alternate universe created around the golf course. Such books are so good. In fact they remind me of my initial obsession with tennis. I would sleep at some 2 in the morning and then get up at 5 to go early and get the court. I'd spend hours looking at coaching videos on the internet in faint hopes of improving my game. Videos like this: How to serve
That obsession has toned down to the extent of being gone now, but I guess it never does go for golfers. And that makes it very interesting - the nature of the sport is one that just as you're losing hope and planning to break all your clubs, you connect one drive just the way the golfing Gods willed it to be connected. As the ball soars high and long, your heart is pulled in two directions - exhilaration and "Damn, now I'll have to come play again"
Ask me, I know. We used to go to the driving range almost every weekend when RB was in Bangalore. I guess we were able to get off golf because we never managed to go beyond the driving range to the main golf course.
Ok, this post is getting rambling so I shall tell you the two main points that I started writing with:
1. Golf - Good
2. Golf related stories - GOOD
Personal note:
Yesterday, I saw the actress I had been really impressed with in the play Dancing on Glass (here), Meghana Mundkur at the Corner House nearby. Furthermore I was with a friend who actually knew her and went and chatted with her. But I was too shy to go and compliment her.
Note to self:
You should be ashamed of your reticence
5758
Have you read Heart of a Goof by PG Wodehouse?
It's a set of nine stories all based on the life and times and the travails of golfers. In true Wodehouse fashion he weaves parallels between life and golf with golf winning over in terms of importance. It's been a while since I last read it but I remember closing the book with the widest smile possible and the intense desire to go and play immediately to get immersed in the parallel universe of putts, drives, greens, bunkers and roughs.
Unfortunately it was around 3 in the morning so I couldn’t really action this desire.
Also, not having ever properly played before was also a rather minor hindrance.
I recently read another novel set around golf. It’s called ‘The Amateurs’ by John Niven. The tone of the book can be ascertained by the quote that the novel starts with:
He rallied, my tears being in unsurpassably bad taste,
and said, 'Look here, it's only a game.'
Trying to speak softly so the children wouldn't hear,
I said, 'Fuck you!'
It’s story of a man’s struggles in life to improve his handicap. Oh, and there’s also the small matter of his cheating wife and her lover conspiring to murder the lover’s wife by hiring the man’s brother!
Another amazing alternate universe created around the golf course. Such books are so good. In fact they remind me of my initial obsession with tennis. I would sleep at some 2 in the morning and then get up at 5 to go early and get the court. I'd spend hours looking at coaching videos on the internet in faint hopes of improving my game. Videos like this: How to serve
That obsession has toned down to the extent of being gone now, but I guess it never does go for golfers. And that makes it very interesting - the nature of the sport is one that just as you're losing hope and planning to break all your clubs, you connect one drive just the way the golfing Gods willed it to be connected. As the ball soars high and long, your heart is pulled in two directions - exhilaration and "Damn, now I'll have to come play again"
Ask me, I know. We used to go to the driving range almost every weekend when RB was in Bangalore. I guess we were able to get off golf because we never managed to go beyond the driving range to the main golf course.
Ok, this post is getting rambling so I shall tell you the two main points that I started writing with:
1. Golf - Good
2. Golf related stories - GOOD
Personal note:
Yesterday, I saw the actress I had been really impressed with in the play Dancing on Glass (here), Meghana Mundkur at the Corner House nearby. Furthermore I was with a friend who actually knew her and went and chatted with her. But I was too shy to go and compliment her.
Note to self:
You should be ashamed of your reticence
5758
Sunday, July 4, 2010
This Cup is getting pretty darn expensive...
I'll just come out and say it. I need an extra 'World Cup bonus'on the lines of the 'mehngai bhatta' that people in the 80's used to get. I've never followed a football (wanted to write soccer here to get a few purists tearing out their hair. Then desisted - these soccer fans can be quite crazy. Dangerously crazy.)World Cup with so much dedication and perseverance. Not to mention the economic hit. My monthly budget lies whimpering in a corner in tatters.
I've been going out almost every second day to this place screening a match or that place with the best football fans or this friend with a 42 inch LCD TV. And all this going out doesn't come cheap. You're always with some people following the football tradition of watching matches with your favourite healthy beverage and fresh foods (yeah, right). And try as I do to sit in a corner without troubling the waiter too much, these guys are trained to spot attempting freeloaders like me and to impale us with tremendously guilt inducing stares.
And then they hover around glancing at you and the empty table in front of you. The glances get progressively threatening and accusatory with every free kick awarded in the match. Eventually just as they confer with their manager and award a free kick of their own, you succumb and order something. And do NOT think that the prices have not been padded up with the World Cup in mind. Yesterday, at the biggest game of this World Cup (Argentina - Germany) I happened to be at my local watering hole. This place is popular but it has its ups and downs and I've seen it overflowing and empty in a span of two -three days. What I mean to say is that it is my regular place where I know the people and the way they charge. Yesterday, they stopped me at the gate - "Cover charge?". Of course I didn't pay it, being a regular and all (and, you know, being from Delhi. Rules are for losers). But even this place was getting into the World Cup money making way of things.
Hence I propose the following:
1. FIFA should allocate a certain (substantial) part of their funds for free distribution to people bordering on destitution due to their World Cup spendings
2. The government should reduce all taxes on eateries and pubs and all other places showing the match. And the benefit has to be given to the people who visit the place.
3. Employers should change work timings to accommodate late night matches. Efficiency metrics should be relaxed for the duration of the Cup.And for another two months to allow for people to normalize
4. More movies to be released, parties to be thrown, events to be organised starting at the end of the Cup. I am already dreading the withdrawal symptoms once the Cup ends. (C'mon, tell me the truth. Didn't you feel all disoriented when there was no football for two days between the Round of 16 and the quarter finals?)
5. Special camps with trained (preferably pretty) psychiatrists to deal with the post-Cup trauma.
These are my simple requests. But we need to make a national, nay international movement to get these perfectly reasonable requests, nay demands met. Send all your support in the shape of cheques to me and I shall take the lead in starting this movement.
Power to the fans!!
5543
I've been going out almost every second day to this place screening a match or that place with the best football fans or this friend with a 42 inch LCD TV. And all this going out doesn't come cheap. You're always with some people following the football tradition of watching matches with your favourite healthy beverage and fresh foods (yeah, right). And try as I do to sit in a corner without troubling the waiter too much, these guys are trained to spot attempting freeloaders like me and to impale us with tremendously guilt inducing stares.
And then they hover around glancing at you and the empty table in front of you. The glances get progressively threatening and accusatory with every free kick awarded in the match. Eventually just as they confer with their manager and award a free kick of their own, you succumb and order something. And do NOT think that the prices have not been padded up with the World Cup in mind. Yesterday, at the biggest game of this World Cup (Argentina - Germany) I happened to be at my local watering hole. This place is popular but it has its ups and downs and I've seen it overflowing and empty in a span of two -three days. What I mean to say is that it is my regular place where I know the people and the way they charge. Yesterday, they stopped me at the gate - "Cover charge?". Of course I didn't pay it, being a regular and all (and, you know, being from Delhi. Rules are for losers). But even this place was getting into the World Cup money making way of things.
Hence I propose the following:
1. FIFA should allocate a certain (substantial) part of their funds for free distribution to people bordering on destitution due to their World Cup spendings
2. The government should reduce all taxes on eateries and pubs and all other places showing the match. And the benefit has to be given to the people who visit the place.
3. Employers should change work timings to accommodate late night matches. Efficiency metrics should be relaxed for the duration of the Cup.And for another two months to allow for people to normalize
4. More movies to be released, parties to be thrown, events to be organised starting at the end of the Cup. I am already dreading the withdrawal symptoms once the Cup ends. (C'mon, tell me the truth. Didn't you feel all disoriented when there was no football for two days between the Round of 16 and the quarter finals?)
5. Special camps with trained (preferably pretty) psychiatrists to deal with the post-Cup trauma.
These are my simple requests. But we need to make a national, nay international movement to get these perfectly reasonable requests, nay demands met. Send all your support in the shape of cheques to me and I shall take the lead in starting this movement.
Power to the fans!!
5543
Saturday, June 26, 2010
'Shifty' Affairs and Henpecked Husbands...
So yeah, I've been away a while. Not to say that I forgot about this piece of online property that belongs to me. In fact I've gone weeks thinking about the title of this post with a silent chuckle at the wordplay (you'll see in a bit)
As you know my roomie, umm ex-roomie PS went and got married and though I did suggest that I'd move in with them and stay in a small corner without disturbing at all (he laughed rather derisively, for the record).
Left with no option and after getting over denial I did go forth and hunted for a house. And the moving is what I was quite busy with for a while.
It's not an easy job. You just don't realize how much stuff you accrue over time even in a fairly frugal existence. But more important is that actual getting up and doing part of beginning to pack things. I spent over two weeks procrastinating, staring at the vast fields of stuff that had to be, somehow, boundarized into boxes. I would come home from work after excusing myself from any evening plans with a terse 'gotta pack today', and sit forlornly in a corner with a beverage for company as I tried to muster up the nerve to get on with the job and actually put that first rag of cloth in the box.
In fact if it wasn't for PS turning up one day and starting the packing for me, I would still be staying there giving twice the rent I could afford.
Anyway, it's all done now and though there were numerous exasperating incidents involving getting the Airtel TV and internet in the new house - took me three weeks and atleast a 100 manhours on the phone to get the TV installation finally done (It got so bad that the customer support guy would recognize my voice as soon as I'd call up - not that that helped too much. I had sourced Sunil Bharti Mittal's email id and was about to drop a scathing email to him but the TV started functioning just prior to that. Also, writing to CEOs works if you're totally exasperated. We actually got a signal booster from Hutch installed in our house with this tactic!)
About the new house, it's a nice, cute (not my words) 1 bedroom apartment. It's location is awesome as it's surrounded with watering holes and restaurants and bookshops and little cafes.It also means that I can get up half an hour later than my usual time with the reduced driving time. With the new petrol price hike this reduction could have a significant impact on my monthly budget, which I'll immediately cover by indulging in one of the places I mentioned earlier.
And now to the henpecked husbands part!
Yesterday, a couple of friends H and R were getting engaged (umm to each other)and we were all going to the ceremony. I had to rush from office and, I know it's terrible, I just went the way I was - in my jeans and a fortunately decent looking shirt. So I went to Sid and R's place where A and P were to join and then we'd all go together. For clarification to the new reader Sid and R, and A and P are married couples. As I walked into the house and saw all four of them my spider sense started tingling. There was something, not really odd but significant, that it was picking up. There was some characteristic of the scene that I just couldn't lay my finger on.
I stared and stared for another five minutes before it hit me! A's shirt was the same colour as P's sari and Sid's shirt matched the border of R's sari. They were dressed up as matching pairs! I almost choked laughing and had to sit down. It just seemed so funny because I hang out with these people all the time and this is the sappiest thing I've seen them do!
5323
As you know my roomie, umm ex-roomie PS went and got married and though I did suggest that I'd move in with them and stay in a small corner without disturbing at all (he laughed rather derisively, for the record).
Left with no option and after getting over denial I did go forth and hunted for a house. And the moving is what I was quite busy with for a while.
It's not an easy job. You just don't realize how much stuff you accrue over time even in a fairly frugal existence. But more important is that actual getting up and doing part of beginning to pack things. I spent over two weeks procrastinating, staring at the vast fields of stuff that had to be, somehow, boundarized into boxes. I would come home from work after excusing myself from any evening plans with a terse 'gotta pack today', and sit forlornly in a corner with a beverage for company as I tried to muster up the nerve to get on with the job and actually put that first rag of cloth in the box.
In fact if it wasn't for PS turning up one day and starting the packing for me, I would still be staying there giving twice the rent I could afford.
Anyway, it's all done now and though there were numerous exasperating incidents involving getting the Airtel TV and internet in the new house - took me three weeks and atleast a 100 manhours on the phone to get the TV installation finally done (It got so bad that the customer support guy would recognize my voice as soon as I'd call up - not that that helped too much. I had sourced Sunil Bharti Mittal's email id and was about to drop a scathing email to him but the TV started functioning just prior to that. Also, writing to CEOs works if you're totally exasperated. We actually got a signal booster from Hutch installed in our house with this tactic!)
About the new house, it's a nice, cute (not my words) 1 bedroom apartment. It's location is awesome as it's surrounded with watering holes and restaurants and bookshops and little cafes.It also means that I can get up half an hour later than my usual time with the reduced driving time. With the new petrol price hike this reduction could have a significant impact on my monthly budget, which I'll immediately cover by indulging in one of the places I mentioned earlier.
And now to the henpecked husbands part!
Yesterday, a couple of friends H and R were getting engaged (umm to each other)and we were all going to the ceremony. I had to rush from office and, I know it's terrible, I just went the way I was - in my jeans and a fortunately decent looking shirt. So I went to Sid and R's place where A and P were to join and then we'd all go together. For clarification to the new reader Sid and R, and A and P are married couples. As I walked into the house and saw all four of them my spider sense started tingling. There was something, not really odd but significant, that it was picking up. There was some characteristic of the scene that I just couldn't lay my finger on.
I stared and stared for another five minutes before it hit me! A's shirt was the same colour as P's sari and Sid's shirt matched the border of R's sari. They were dressed up as matching pairs! I almost choked laughing and had to sit down. It just seemed so funny because I hang out with these people all the time and this is the sappiest thing I've seen them do!
5323
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Foul Play...
Be impulsive...they said
Be 'more cultured'...they said
Stop watching WWE...they said
Be more aware of your 'sensitive' side...they said
And fool that I am, I believed them and followed the instructions. Little was I to know the horrors I'd have to face on this arduous path.
Stop thee, of weak hearts, this tale is not for thee.
I had gone out on Friday and it became quite a late night (or, umm, early morning). Obviously I got up late and was spending a totally relaxed Saturday mostly watching season 2 of Dexter.
A perfect day wouldn't you say? But was I going to let it remain so? Was I going to stop myself from interfering with the diktats of the higher power who wanted me to actually relax?
I would've, except the first few lines of this post flashed infront of my eyes. There is a theatre festival of English language comic plays running in Rangashankara. I've been planning to go for the last couple of days to two very interesting sounding plays. However, I just haven't been able to (had to meet someone after a long time, got late at work and tickets ran out). There was another play called "All about women". Truth be told, this sounded like the least interesting play of the entire festival but at 6 in the evening, just as the dark clouds burst forth, I had this impulse to go for this play.
Now I don't really look for company while going for plays. I mean, it's not like you can nudge the person next to you and crack silly jokes on which both of you guffaw.
So I pulled on my jeans and rushed down the stairs to my car. And then I came back up to pick up my car keys. Rushing down again I negotiated the puddles with elan and eventually managed to step into just one before getting the car started. Stealing a quick glance at my super cool watch I took a little sigh of relief. I had an hour and a half to reach the theater. It was tight what with the traffic, but could be done. Afterall I had done this earlier with an even lesser margin when I'd gone to see a Anton Chekov play (which by the way, was quite bad).
Almost as soon as I got out of my colony I ran into a massive traffic jam amidst shin deep water. Car engine being run to prevent any untoward stalling, I wormed through the jam. As I escaped the reaching-for-me clutches of the jam I had a victorious smile on my face as I saw a clear stretch of road ahead of me and the hands on the face of my watch still looking on favourably. Strange, no one seemed to be taking that long empty stretch, choosing instead to turn right into another water infested jam. Now why would that be?
And suddenly I had a vision! Yes, a real live vision.
And the content of the vision was PS. A couple of days back he had told me that due to some underpass construction they had blocked off the road which had the straightest route to Rangashankara!
I was already beginning to rue my impulsive decision to become more sensitive and cultural. Already I was seeing the merits of watching two (or more) heavily muscled wrestlers beating down on each other in the safe confines of my living room. But I had started, and by God I was going to become cultured today!
I took the most circuitous route possible. On occasions my car took on amphibian qualities to wade through the water pools. The clock was ticking and I could feel the beads of sweat beginning to form on my forehead. Would I be able to reach? Would I be able to immerse myself in the luxurious presence of the play? Would the old aunty in the Premier Padmini car move out of the way...ever?
To cut a long story short I zoomed near the theater with 15 minutes to spare. And as if God was rewarding me for my tenacity and dedication I saw what I have never seen near the theater recently - a free parking spot. Parking the car and tearing down towards the box office was a matter of seconds. Stopping suddenly, returning, and locking the car was a matter of another few seconds.But I knew from the parking spot incident that the Gods were smiling. And really, how difficult would it be to get just one ticket.
Apparently, very. As I approached the box office with an expectant smile on my face, I was faced by yet another smile. The lady there was smiling and shooing away the stragglers trying to get a ticket. All sold out. Yes, it's true.
I'm going to watch another play tomorrow. This one with PS and Z. And we have tickets already. But by God, I'm going in PS' car. If I had to drive there again so soon, I swear I'd cry.
4854
Be 'more cultured'...they said
Stop watching WWE...they said
Be more aware of your 'sensitive' side...they said
And fool that I am, I believed them and followed the instructions. Little was I to know the horrors I'd have to face on this arduous path.
Stop thee, of weak hearts, this tale is not for thee.
I had gone out on Friday and it became quite a late night (or, umm, early morning). Obviously I got up late and was spending a totally relaxed Saturday mostly watching season 2 of Dexter.
As an aside I'm not sure whether I really like the series. The serial killer in the show is not callous / intelligent enough methinks.Also, the plot is a bit weak, especially the Harry angle
A perfect day wouldn't you say? But was I going to let it remain so? Was I going to stop myself from interfering with the diktats of the higher power who wanted me to actually relax?
I would've, except the first few lines of this post flashed infront of my eyes. There is a theatre festival of English language comic plays running in Rangashankara. I've been planning to go for the last couple of days to two very interesting sounding plays. However, I just haven't been able to (had to meet someone after a long time, got late at work and tickets ran out). There was another play called "All about women". Truth be told, this sounded like the least interesting play of the entire festival but at 6 in the evening, just as the dark clouds burst forth, I had this impulse to go for this play.
Now I don't really look for company while going for plays. I mean, it's not like you can nudge the person next to you and crack silly jokes on which both of you guffaw.
Everyone knows that kind of behavior is only acceptable in movie halls and strategy meetings.
So I pulled on my jeans and rushed down the stairs to my car. And then I came back up to pick up my car keys. Rushing down again I negotiated the puddles with elan and eventually managed to step into just one before getting the car started. Stealing a quick glance at my super cool watch I took a little sigh of relief. I had an hour and a half to reach the theater. It was tight what with the traffic, but could be done. Afterall I had done this earlier with an even lesser margin when I'd gone to see a Anton Chekov play (which by the way, was quite bad).
Ha, the games fate plays with us mere mortals
Almost as soon as I got out of my colony I ran into a massive traffic jam amidst shin deep water. Car engine being run to prevent any untoward stalling, I wormed through the jam. As I escaped the reaching-for-me clutches of the jam I had a victorious smile on my face as I saw a clear stretch of road ahead of me and the hands on the face of my watch still looking on favourably. Strange, no one seemed to be taking that long empty stretch, choosing instead to turn right into another water infested jam. Now why would that be?
And suddenly I had a vision! Yes, a real live vision.
And the content of the vision was PS. A couple of days back he had told me that due to some underpass construction they had blocked off the road which had the straightest route to Rangashankara!
I was already beginning to rue my impulsive decision to become more sensitive and cultural. Already I was seeing the merits of watching two (or more) heavily muscled wrestlers beating down on each other in the safe confines of my living room. But I had started, and by God I was going to become cultured today!
I took the most circuitous route possible. On occasions my car took on amphibian qualities to wade through the water pools. The clock was ticking and I could feel the beads of sweat beginning to form on my forehead. Would I be able to reach? Would I be able to immerse myself in the luxurious presence of the play? Would the old aunty in the Premier Padmini car move out of the way...ever?
To cut a long story short I zoomed near the theater with 15 minutes to spare. And as if God was rewarding me for my tenacity and dedication I saw what I have never seen near the theater recently - a free parking spot. Parking the car and tearing down towards the box office was a matter of seconds. Stopping suddenly, returning, and locking the car was a matter of another few seconds.But I knew from the parking spot incident that the Gods were smiling. And really, how difficult would it be to get just one ticket.
Apparently, very. As I approached the box office with an expectant smile on my face, I was faced by yet another smile. The lady there was smiling and shooing away the stragglers trying to get a ticket. All sold out. Yes, it's true.
I'm going to watch another play tomorrow. This one with PS and Z. And we have tickets already. But by God, I'm going in PS' car. If I had to drive there again so soon, I swear I'd cry.
The wounds are still too fresh
4854
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