Man over tiger

I remember way back around 1998, there was a hut near my house. A guy who lived there worked as a grass cutter at the Mysore zoo.

One unfortunate day, the gates to a tiger enclosure were accidentally left open when he was cutting grass on the open area meant for tiger. The tiger ventured out into the open and saw an unfamiliar scene of two numbnuts cutting grass in it's space. Predictably, it attacked this guy while his colleague climbed up a tree safely.

 A Garuda jeep passing through the area was alerted and immediately, the officers rushed in and opened fire on the tiger, killed it, thus saving the man. He would recover from his injures soon, so that he could return to being a wife-beating drunk.

Less than a year later, one night, while returning home drunk, he fell into a drain, smashed his head and died out of excessive bleeding. His wife Manjula, a 10th standard drop out, was given a job, her first, at the zoo as a clerk. She would go on to write SSLC which made her eligible to earn various promotions.

I couldn't help but feel that Manjula's financial stability, independence and a more peaceful existence was denied for an extra year by heroics of some Garuda officers who just like most of us, valued the life of just one of the billions of humans on earth, over that of the tiger, a species that barely number in thousands.  Waste of an innocent life of a magnificient animal, the tiger, that acted on natural instinct and also perhaps of a few government bullets.

Are you going to kill me?

Note: The draft tells me this is a post saved from 3rd February 2011, the time I had been blogging as busily as a dam building beaver on crystal meth. I had probably saved it to publish sometime around march, but forgot about it. Considering the long awkward pause, I figured I would post it now.
I'm too lazy to go through the draft in detail and edit it for current day, so when I say last year, I probably mean 2010.


"Are you going to kill me?"

It started a few days after college was over. I had pretty much nothing to do except write and wonder when I would get a job. It was a non insomnia phase.
(So, basically, proof that my insomnia has nothing to do with any "ups/downs in life" or something 'worrying' as most people simply try to force me to agree with.)
I had been having a recurring dream, every single day. The first and the last recurring dream till date. It lasted for nearly 6 months. The dream was a bit like this.

I am standing in a dark room or garage or something and there is another guy just in front of me holding up a gun right into my face. I could see the gun and his hand and his silhouette, because there was some sunlight pouring in through a window in a wall behind him.
This guy had me check mate. If I moved a finger, it wouldn't take him much to spray my brains all over the place. So as I knew this, I just stand there with my hands up and say

"Are you going to kill me?"

...and I wake up.

The dream never lasted more than a couple of seconds from the start to the finish.


Now this dream bothered me for one and only one reason. No I didn't think I had some mental disease because the dream was so morbid. I was sure it must have been triggered by some action/thriller/heist/crime movie I saw. No, that was not it.
The thing that bothered me was my own words. Are-you-going-to-kill-me? Why on earth did I say that? It sounded like I was submitting to him. If I knew myself, if there was such a situation, I would make a quick movement, just so that I could go on my own terms and go without surrendering.


Huh..are-you-killing-me? "No, I'm just putting this gun in your face for a while to check how long it takes my arm to go to sleep."

So was my real self a meek, no-fight-left guy? Or was the line also part of whatever movie I had watched? Should I even be analysing this dream?
Why was it recurring?

As I said, this went on for about 6 months and until around this time last year when I got the call letter to my current company and I moved to my work city. It didn't take too long for my insomnia to kick back in.

The first day of insomnia, it must have been about 5 in the morning, I drifted into a light drowsy, semi-awake state. Soon enough, I was in the garage again.

Same gun, same window, same position. My hands were up in defense. But something was different. There was something in my hand too.

I had a gun. Without a hint of remorse in my mind, I turned my hand, pointed it at his head, knowing fully well he would react too and I squeezed that trigger with so much anger, hate and revenge, without batting an eyelid as I didn't want to miss a split second of my hunter's hunting. I heard the shot (Which, I'm sure would be much louder in real life) and I saw my wanna-be-killer fly backward into the darkness and slam into the wall behind him with a thud.


That was the last time I had the dream.

Rahul Dravid - Please don't retire

Dravid has a tendency to announce retirements after awesome peaks followed by a few slight lows.

ODI career - Yes, India gave a poor show at the world cup, but India had won matches in rows before that, under his captaincy.

Test career - He had come off one of his best years and then a slump of few matches.

And just in case he follows trends, - Now IPL - Never seen captaincy like this. King maker. Got the best out of the rookies. But lost in the eliminator.

Rahul Dravid, sorry the script didn't come through at your first best shot, but this is where you don't retire and put the peddle to the metal and get the cup next year. Please?

You get the cup, Indian cricket gets the cup. #FuckFixing

#NammaRahul



*Update*
And thus the fears have come true. Dravid did announce his retirement :|

Miss Korea

So if you take all the contestants for Miss Korea beauty pageant and put them in one GIF...

Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt the long pause on this blog with a (seemingly) racist post (which is not, cause I didn't say anything at all). Now please carry on.

House warming and other pet peeves

It's a well known fact among my near and dear that I generally avoid the never ending pujas and the 'functions' (and methods and procedures) of even my near and dear. Though I should quickly mention, the same should not be mistaken for why I am usually absent from some wedding ceremonies - that almost always is because I have poorly timed my other errands.

But the pujas are a different story.
 * The sthothras and the mantras, the meaning of which have long been forgotten by the people who organise them, with the exception, if at all, by the people who
conduct them.
*The thronging of the sheep, most of who are sweet enough to show moral support by simply showing up, might sometimes seem charitable and narcissistic in its own sense that if they
didn't, God wouldn't rain prosperity on the organiser, or simply on the other hand, that the host would feel disappointed of their absence among the scores that they invited.
*The overwhelming crowd and the inherent attribute of everyone in one to withstand the sea of guests as they wade or back paddle in them.
*The possibly fatal (for me, or even those in my vicinity) insufficient supply of my coffee.
*The need to appease every single node of my overgrown, overly-in-touch family tree, by  acknowledging relatives whose faces (occasionally) are the only thing I remember, not how my dad's distant cousin's wife's younger son's elder daughter,
was ever introduced to me or her name or anything else for that matter, let alone the fact that I have to keep myself from even blinking, as this person who had probably only met me twice before, is asking me the intricate details of my salary and how soon I intended to tie the knot.
The list is inexhaustible.

However, all said and done, there are days when I have to relent. Simply because my mum-and-dad invoke the 'I-am-your-mum/dad-and-thou-shalt-do-as-I-say' rule. Haven't heard of that one?
Well its the second most powerful rule. The first is 'I-am-your-girlfriend' rule, which eventually will be null and void and replaced with 'I-am-your-wife' rule, but that's a discussion for another day.

So, the rule was invoked and my fate for this last Sunday was set - I was going to attend a house warming ceremony at my dad's sister's big ass shop in the neighbouring galaxy.

After 16-17 months of tirelessly searching for a house to buy for my folks, all efforts in vain, there is nothing more relaxing than riding in the sun, on an empty stomach, in Bangalore traffic, through the Mysore road, for 33 kilometers, so that I could sit inside an unventillated room, with the sunfacing side covered only by glass, among 200 other people engulfed by the smoke from the holy homa and think about how I could have been sitting in my own house warming ceremony instead.

Oh I forgot, the babies who cry like there is no tomorrow- music to the ears. They add that little zing to the entire episode.

How? How do you people do it? Do you take something to endure this? Is it ingested orally? Tell me your secret!!

How some things are born

A man in a suit walks up to a clan of female coconut climbers...

Him: "Hey you"

Her: "Yeah?"

Him: "Who is the leader of your clan?"

Her: "It's me. What do you want?"

Him: "I have a job offer for you and your clan"

Her: "We already have a job."

Him: "But we pay slightly better. Are you interested?"

Her: "I'm listening.."

Him: "It involves a little bit of dancing..."

Her: "Dancing? We hardly know anything about dancing. We pluck coconuts! Are you out of your mind?"

Him: "Na, you don't have to worry. Just pretend there is a coconut tree and make the same moves you make while climbing one. Except, there will be some music."

Her: "That it?"

Him: "Yup. That it!"

Her: "Deal. Girls, get here!!"


--

That ladies and gentlemen, how the Sri Lankan T20 World cup cheerleaders were born.

People!

Have you watched that movie? "The Truman Show" ? Jimmy Carrey. The first time I watched it and also The Matrix, it had this uncanny resemblance to this little piece of imagination I used to have that nothing around me was real. Which is why I kind of digested both movies on the first go.

As a kid, I don't remember why I felt like that, but that feeling is back and this time I know exactly why. People! Weird weird people that I have had to put up with recently. Its like the external universal force has hand picked a bunch of exotic dumb asses just to pick my nerve.

If its the external force, why would it be? Is it some sort of freak show enjoyed in heaven? Is there a binge party going on up there? Or is there a more noble cause? Like an anger management class?

All my life, all I had to do to have my first coffee of the day was - Get up and brush!

Now that I moved to work, I have to get up, bathe, get ready, go to work, take bullshit from a lot of people in between, reply , steal some time to go to the cafe and just to make sure I don't ruin the already dying appetite I hold myself off till I'm done with my breakfast before I dive head first into a big big tumbler full of coffee.

In between all this, there are these people that keep showing up with a BIG smile on their face with a question or statement that is sure to whipe off the one on mine.

"Hey why are you so thin man? Eat!"
"Who are you kidding? You are skinnier and lighter than me."
"Yeah, but you are tall."
"Exactly, I'm good for my height."
"Lets have a vote?"
"Oh no, not the vote."


"Hey, did you have your breakfast?"
"I'm standing with you on the breakfast counter! You just asked me what I ordered."
"Ummm..so you didn't have yet?"



"What? You ride to Mysore EVERY WEEK on the bike?? Why??"
"You asked me same question, last Friday. and I answered by saying 'You asked me same question last week and I answered in detail remember?' and since you didn't I had to explain again, remember? "
"But why? Why do you ride?"



I go through repetitive conversations like that, every single morning. But I'm kinda impressed at myself as not once have I felt like getting myself a Smith & Wesson to take down these Jabronis. Okay, I confess. I felt like that once when I was just about to take my much, much delayed first sip off that big tumblr of coffee after like a twelve hour drought when this guy slapped my on my back all of a sudden and shouted
"Oh My God! What is this man?"


I swear I wanted to shoot Janice straight to the moon.


So if its an anger management class, here is proof that its worked, now let me go?


--

People, I tell you, the more I see them, the more I love my dog.


There are more people like this.


The landlord:
This guys is so fuckin weird that I call him Feirdo. He shows up on the first date of every month and that's not the weird part. He shows up and hides behind a pillar in our parking lot. And it ain't really hiding. A 5 year old would catch him. The first time I saw him I walked up to him and asked what he was doing there. He just stood there, wide eyed, like in a trance, not even acknowledging my presence. Then I just called out my rommate from the parking lot since he had all our rent money and immediately this guy broke out of his "Trance" and said

"Oh no no. He gave me the rent."
"Ok come inside."

Before you know it, he is back behind the pillar in trance mode. Reminded me of these pythons that go into a trance while laying eggs.


The neighbours and their retarded kid:
Now I dunno if this kid is more retarded or his parents. He honks the car horn endlessly runs amok on my terrace banging a stone on the roof or throws stuff at my dog or comes running into that house to bang on the fish tank - now most of this I can understand in a 1 year old but not in a two year old, and his parents just stand and watch, with their mouth so open that I can park my bike in it.

The kid once went running amok and the parents having absolutely no regard for his safety had no idea that he had fallen into a water tank just a few feet away. Thankfully the kid was saved by some alert passer by.

Did they become more careful about their kid? No. They just picked up a fight with the construction workers next day for not watching their kids fall into the tank.

On another occassion, the kid had just wandered away 4 kilometers close to a relatives house. His parents realised he was missing 6 hours later.


People crossing the road:
Oh I have a special place for some people on my list of people to kill- when I go on my spree, they are underlined in red ink. These are the people who cross the road.

Why? Why people do you wait for my signal to turn green before you jump onto the road?

Why? Why do you want to cross the road when I'm speeding at 80? Will it kill you to wait 2 seconds till I pass?


Why? Why do you have this dumbass notion that if you don't turn around and look at me coming at you, it means that I don't really exist. That I wont toast your ass with one mistake.



Arrogant higher ups:
These are the guys who find out that hard way that I cannot be their pet bitch.

Hard way: Let us just say they push me and I drop kick them.

Sorry that's how it always goes, but sadly, my appraisal is always in their hands, so it always comes back to bite me. And also the fact that everybody else comes upto you and tells you:-
1) How you made a mistake
2) How you should lie down and let them all walk all over you
3) How we are not allowed any self respect
4) How I should probably chop of my ass and hand it to the "High and mighty" on a silver platter.

Right. I'm sorry world, I rather be wrong and strong than be meek and faceless (in some case also baseless).

I hear people saying things like "Oh I'm so friendly with my manager" and stuff like that and all of a sudden when they hear about one of the incidents that happened to me, they go "It happened to me toooo!!". Come on people...either your job/manager sucks or they don't. Make up your mind.



Sabotage specialists:

The there are people who want to mess with my bike. It started with a small tear on the leather seat. This was done in the parking lot of my company.

Then all of a sudden one night, it was a big tear. This was when it was parked at my house in Blore.

Everyday when it was parked at my house at night, someone would come and twist the rear view mirrors. Some idea of a hilarious joke I guess. I was pretty harmless, so I let it pass.

One fine morning I saw that they had broken one of my indicators.

Now, I just moved in here. Have no grudge with anyone in the building, heck I don't even know anyone. Plus, I park my bike in this tough-to-park place so that it makes more space for other vehicles, yet the bike is picked out for constant sabotage.

There was this one night where I was awake till 4AM. My roommate woke up at 5 AM. In this window of 1 hour, someone had broken another indicator on the bike.


I have decided to buy a baseball bat.

--


There are a lot more cases and currently too much on my mind to really recall and write more.

Currently for some reason my back is completely broken. Or it seems to be a relapsed ache from a couple of weeks ago. So I'm sitting on my chair since morning refusing to budge, while my dad sits in a hall densely filled with cigarette smoke, not running out of evidences to prove that I am a bad son. So to avoid both my dad and the smoke, I'm following the cricket scores on line. So it looks like even my dad is in on this whole plot - not just 'people'


Tell me all this doesn't suck and I might try to vaporise you with my super-secret laser vision.


--

Everybody calls me a "People person". Screw that, from today onwards, I'm hanging a board around my neck that says "I hate people." and grow really long nails.

Timeline

I recently got "The timeline" (you have to say that like you would say "The death star" or "The Millennium Falcon").

The moment I realised I could get it before they decided to activate on their own will, I jumped at it and got it. Not that I was eagerly waiting for it, but because its one of the most irksome, 'destroy-your-private-life' kind of feature, especially for people like me, that facebook has released yet.

It's a feature where all your past posts, activites etc etc, can be easily surfed through in a brand new interface. Its basically a quicker archive.

I had to get it quickly because I wanted to know what sort of shit I had posted ages ago and what should definitely not be there for my detractors to see and what could land me in trouble with my company or relatives etc.

And I was surprised. There wasn't a single such thing. The most common feedback I ever got was that I was blunt, rude and the blah. And yet, there weren't a lot of posts I would have cared to delete. Though I did hide about 4 posts from my timeline, plainly because they were outright silly. Or maybe all our posts sound silly 2 years later. As a result of this, two years were blown straight out of the timeline.

I was even more surprised to see the scarcity of my posts. I don't think I found over 20 status messages over so many years. Glad to know that I ain't among the feed flooders.

Facebook has been known to make a mess of good things a little too often. After going through this new feature I must say I have to say its a work of art. Lemme explain why.

1) You are less likely to delete your account now, because it seems more like your memories are attached to it. Trust me, some of your own old posts might make you smile. Besides, I know some of you jobless folks. You have spent half your life on the site and your poor employers even paid you for it.



2) It makes it easy for the advertisers to collect info on you and target user specific ads.

3) Even though it will eventually be activated to everyone, some of you can do so right away. Absolutely genius move this. Why?
Facebook has learnt from its past mistakes. Everytime they made a change, they messed up. People hated it, protested and eventually just learnt to live with it than leave. This time, its voluntary. So even though this is by far the biggest privacy concern, nobody will realise it.
 - One person uses it.
 - Realises that his/her friends don't have it.
 - They brag about it. (And my dear cynics, this is not what I am doing.)
 - Their friends activate it.

And so the water trickles. The sheep jump into the pit on their own and facebook doesn't have to lift a finger.




All said and done:
There is one thing I do like in this new change though. And that is the "Cover". I loved it. I Chose something nice for mine and trust me I didn't break my head too long over it.


Lastly, the timeline made me realise one more thing. It has been the longest standing social network ever. According to my observation, the successful ones last for 3 years. People seem to simply migrate to something else after that. Myspace, Orkut..so on. FB has stuck on for 5 years. Wonder what will be the next big thing. I have high hopes on Diaspora. I had very discreetly mentioned in one of my posts --> "Forget IP addresses the world is running outta good names"

In India, ofcourse, the facebook boom happened around 2009 when suddenly people started flooding the network. I think I had 36 friends here till 2009. Now it stands at a little over 500. That's actually less, when compared to some of my "So nice to know you...hey! Are you on facebook?" kinda friends.

I have been considering closing my account for quite a while. The only reason I haven't is not the love of the site but the fact that all my friends are there and is the best way to stay in touch. However, I do love twitter. Its like an addiction. Sadly 95% of my friends don't seem to know about twitter. Its short and sweet, unlike me, yet.

(Disclaimer: This post doesn't endorse any site. Nor trash it.)

BTW, did you know that, if you delete your account, your photos are still retained. Wonder how on earth they could make money from that? Something tells me, I don't want to know the answer to that question.

Social-life-ka-boom warning system: Once you activate the timeline, you have 7 days before its published, so hurry up if you have skeletons in the closet ;)

Did I just kill my blog?

Im still wondering when I must or not. My friends say not yet and I agree, but if I were to, do you have any suggestions for the name?

And trust me, this is not the kind of thing people do when they ask for suggestions and you rack your brains to come with an impressive answer and in the end they consider none of it just so that they dont have to credit the name to you. If you idea is good, I will consider it. I was thinking of:
1) Homo Sheepians (Title of the first comic)
2) Asylumos
3) Ding!


--


In other news,

I royally hate the 3g stick I am using to connect to the internet from my room. It belongs to my roommate and boy is it slow.

In order to get consistent access to the net, I have to keep the door open. But if I keep the door open a friendly neighbourhood grasshoper seems to be adamant as hell to get indoors and lo, 75% of my time with a good connection is spent in keeping the insect out of the house.


By time I get one simply project going on my netbook, I think I would be more equipped with the Class Insecta in the linnaeus classification than any other geeky stuff on the planet.

--


Also,

I keep wondering if I totally killed my blog by taking to comics? Because everytime I see something funny, I think of it as something I could write a comic on.


--


Finally,

You know that stage of life? Where you are very confused about the future and...yeah well most of you guys follow me on --> twitter. Well its back!

The Million Dollar Moustache

There is a saying in Kannada:

ಊಟ ತನ್ನ ಇಚ್ಛೆ , ನೋಟ  ಪರರ ಇಚ್ಛೆ 

It means, what you eat, is up to you, but what you look like is governed by the people who are around you.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           
Having heard this (only a few million times from my mum), my sudden fits of wanting to trying to try new things (plus the adrenaline rush of some very good coffee that day) caused me to shave off my moustache and then
                                                                                                                                                                       

* My dad had a mild heart attack.                                                                                   

                                                                                   

* My mum disowned me.                                                                                   

                                                                                                               

* Two girls changed their phone number.                                                       

                                                                                                                                           

* I was banned for life from entering Big Bazaar.

and finally

* A puppy committed suicide.

I have learnt my lesson, I'm never doing that again. (Unless the fit repeats or have loads of good coffee. I have no control you see.)

And if my prospective girlfriend is reading this post, I'm sure I have changed the equation a bit. This is why I don't want a lot of girls reading my blog. Reduces my options.

Count to ten..then start over

I am gonna make a rule..                                                                                                                                                          

Rule: Don't send messages, mails, comments, replies or write a blog when I am pissed.

I also followed the rule today. *Pats self on back*

Just HIT!

* Working the weekend

* Not going home when I want to unwind the most.

* Ass-kissers at work taking all the credit to my work.


* Laptop having one new problem to the already growing list every week. And its my sole source of entertainment lately.

* People really getting on my nerves with the "You did wrong!"s.

* And I am venting my anger by picking up fights with foul-mouthed guys at the toll booth and the loser who lost my favourite pen.

I can turn green and swell any moment and turn into the Hulk.

I need to chill. Iceman...just HIT!



Hang-In-There. This too shall pass.

None the Visor

I tripped while climbing the stairs on my way upto my house last Thursday, fell and broke the visor of my helmet. Was wondering if this 'little' incident was gonna haunt me for a few days to come, like it always does with me, because The universe seems to be ever so busy in cooking up innovative ways to give me headaches through seemingly irrelevant problems.

But as always I decided to not to let this incident bother me too much, that I would get it replaced as soon as possible once I returned home for the weekend. And again as always, I was busy during the first part of the Saturday and couldn't get it fixed.

Again, I decided to ignore the split visor, I mean how hard can it be? What can it possibly do?

Night ride to the betta
It started falling down on to the front every 2 seconds. And since its a dark visor, I had trouble watching the road as soon as it fell down. It once fell when I was overtaking a car and it was a total blackout there. All I could see was a little red tail lamp thankfully, so I managed to move back into the line behind it. After that I realized that I should drive slowly and carefully. Better safe than sorry.

Morning ride to work
My hometown and work-town are three hours apart. Under bright sunny day, there shouldn't be a problem with the visor. Or that's what I thought. Since the visor is split in half and the bolts are holding em on the helmet separately, they kinda dangle a little further down than usual. This creates a gap/opening at the top. So there is a ribbon of sunlight that gets through the helmet onto my face.

I told myself, 'See? A little sunlight, that's good. See the positive side.' and I rode for the next three hours humming my favourite songs starting with 'Nothing else matters - Metallica'.

After I reached office and was making my way upto my floor and to my cubicle, every single person, starting with the security guard to the colleagues seemed to wanna take a second look at me. I thought that it was either because of the ruffled hair which is usual after the ride or maybe I was looking very cute today ( Hey, you can never lose hope man!).

When I reached the rest room and looked in the mirror, I finally realized the 3 hours of sunlight had created a peculiar tan on my face starting from my right temple, over my eyes, ending at my left temple, making me look like frikkin' raccoon!

Damn you Universe!

One of the architects even christened me 'Robin hood'.







I officially declare war on The universe, thus giving rise to the term 'Starting a losing battle'.

The downside of 'Brutally Honest'

Apart from the obvious downsides of being brutally honest like unintentionally hurting the subject, or being hated to the core of their bones and also of being accused of enjoying the brutality more than the honesty itself, I encountered just one more of them a few months ago..
                                                                                                   
It is the fact that people are just waiting with bated breath for you to make ONE-TEENSIE-WEENSIE mistake and they all come like six-ton rugby players and jump on your ass and squish you like a rat. Then they rip off your soul with their teeth like cooked meat, then they swallow it, then they digest it and then they fart it out with no remorse!

It so happens that one of my friends bought me this really neat shirt for my B'day, last year, that says "I'm cute but psycho"

Yeah Right!!

And after a lot of thought I figured, since its a gift, I will HAVE TO wear it at least once. Especially to a place where you have new friends, since that is where me and my immaculate sense of honesty and sarcasm would have inflicted least damage - My office. Turns out it was a bad idea. Seems like I need less than a few days to "spread the joy". Here are the three things I had to hear the whole day..

They gave a loooong look at the shirt and said:

* "Haha...yes you are a psycho" (This was from the nicer guys and gals.)

* "What were you thinking when you bought that?"  (Some of them)

* "No...you are not cute" (Rest of them)


Unfortunately, they didn't even come close to being as cool as me when they are delivering 'Brutally honest'. If someone had an ugly-ass face and if I were to catch that someone wearing that shirt here is what I would say:

* "Haha cute? Then I'm Pippa Middleton"

* "I'm sorry...you lost me at cute"


* "What did the shopkeeper say when he saw you pick this shirt?"

* "I agree with your shirt, it IS kinda cute."

*
Me:  "Hey you are not just cute, you are God Damn Haawt and sizzling sexy. Your booty shivers me timbers"
UglyAssFace: "Haha..come on, are you kidding?"
Me: "Yes, but you started it."

LOSERS! They get one chance and they mess it up. Shut up, sit tight and let the pros do their thing! These guys need a role model.

Forget IP Addresses, the world is running outta decent names

An Egyptian couple reportedly named their new born daughter 'Facebook'.
                                                                                         
Their neighbours, not to be left behind decided to name their yet-to-be born daughter as ‘Diaspora’ but all they had was a still-born.


A little known fact about that Egyptian couple is that they also had a son named 'Myspace' but he was lost in some stormy weather a few years ago during a pilgrimage (Kumbh-ka-mela of sorts) and hasn’t been found ever since. They have stopped searching.

- -


My heart goes to the daughter by the way. Imagine growing up into a teenager and realizing that their parents were dull enough to be over-awed by a social networking site, so much so that they thought they could name their daughter after it. It might be The social networking site at the moment, but just a social networking site nevertheless. I gotta say that they are easily impressed. Either that or:


1) They are the biggest geeks ever to walk the face of the earth who also happen to speak fluent Quenya (High-elf).

Mom: I still think ‘Twitter’ sounded better!

2) Lots and lots of tequila, lime and salt during the naming ceremony

“I here-by name my daughter Fauzia Begum, no wait, make that FaceBook, sounds so much cooler”

3) The Egyptian society is still stuck in the Stone Age and they hate their girl child to the bone.

“Girl child...bad! Me Give stupid name!”

4) Mubarak’s men dealt a really serious blow to their heads during the revolution.


If you still don’t get why I feel for the child, let me put you in her shoes. Imagine you were born when India gained independence and your parents decided to christen you ‘All India Radio’. (Or even better, you were born during The American revolution in 1700s and your parents named you 'Horse'). You wouldn’t exactly be the most popular kid in school mate.

Respect

Getting hammered with a pornstar on a private pad on a Tuesday night. I would really like to know what he does on Friday night. Respect!

Mind Hung up - Press any key to continue

The whole gang was here at the same place, at the same time at full leizure after over a year and had planned a trip - but it was cancelled, because of me.

All the friends are gone now, back to their work towns far far away, the weekend that was supposed to be fun has gone past in lightning fast speed.


Haven't packed the bags yet for the journey to follow and the bike is just not behaving.

Yet to decide whether to leave today at 5PM or extended the cozy stay at home for another 12 hours and leave in the morning.

And how are ya gonna leave? Trust the bike won't break down in between towns or wake up before the birds and take the bus?

I hate taking the city bus to office. I hate crowds and you always have to be on gaurd.

 - Too much man...too much.

I told you so..

I didn't think I would be writing today at all. Cause you see, I should have been working right now at office and at office as you know we have limited access to the internet.

So does that mean I didn't leave to my work town? I did. In fact it was raining heavily and despite repeated scoldings and warnings from dad, mum and aunt, I got on my bike and took off.

Of course, half an hour after Humpty Dumpty (More like Skimpy Wimpy) had a big fall on the road. Iceman got little booboos here and there that are no big deal(Seriously, I'm fine!), but my poor old bike is damaged.

To add insult to injury, I have been listening to "I told you so"s all day along.

--
I forgot to let you know - My helmet saved me! Otherwise My last post -Introspection and The Five year plan would have ironically, been my last!

Waiting for Deepavali leave

There is a holiday declared on Nov 1st and 5th. So I just have to apply 3 days of leave (Which I don't have anymore in the first place) in order to enjoy 9 days of vacation. I approached my manager in August and September for the approval of the same. [BTW My manager and my team lead have taken an oath to ruin my life, but that's another story]. He has denied both the times.


His reason is that since I am more local I can't be granted the leave since there are scores of other people waiting in line.

Looks like it ain't happening!

Insomnia

I am one cursed soul. I don't know what I have done to anger the Gods, what sins I have committed, but they are definitely super pissed at me.

I suffered from Insomnia when I was studying BE somewhere around 4-5 sems. And people usually make it sound cool because you are still all funny and cheerful in the day and the guy doesn't even sleep? Trust me..it ain't that cool.

Then I suffered again a few weeks towards the end of BE. The sick thing was that the first time I suffered, nobody at home or around believed me. One fine day, around 3 AM when a neighbour had problems and they came out to ask me for help, called out in a very low tone and I sprang out and opened the door. They believed me now! Oh yeah! Why would a guy lie about insomnia? I just don't get it. Well, nobody ever really believe the things that go on with me. For example, people at my work place wont believe I have a habit of writing. (I refuse to name the blog - which helps their case). New people I get to know don't believe I used to talk a lot..its a long list.

Anyway, after the holidays started in the June of 2009, I used to sleep 10-12 hours a day. Most people thought I was making up for all the lost sleep.

When I didn't suffer from insomnia, the Gods ensured I got no sleep with numerous well orchestrated plans. First you all know about the attack of the street lights? I wrote about it. Then the attack of Akon, thanks to my roommate who carefully placed his computer speakers next to my pillow and played it all night as he studied each and every single fucking day, with the lights on. I wrote about that also.

I came out of that PG, rented a house, got rid of that room mate, occupied an entire bedroom for myself (Call me selfish, I just want my sleep). Now apart from the fact that I sleep on the floor, and there are a bunch of Tamilians who seem to laugh like little girls till 1AM for no apparent reason, I did manage to get some sleep, until last month.

The Insomnia is back!

The tossing and the turning. The uncontrollable drowsiness. The headache. I can't take it no more. You know what the worst part is about insomnia? You gotta come up with something to think for the entire 8-10 hours you are tossing and turning on your bed. That usually doesn't happen and so you are left with thinking about all the useless trash in the world.

"How would it be if my eyes were blue?" (I can already think of a comment coming up on this - 'Thuu..you would look uglier')

"My manager, he is such an asshole. Maybe I could follow him on the way home and smash a stone on his head when he turns into a dark alley"

Then I rub my eyes for a while. Turn right..adjust my knees or hands or whatever, throw the rug around, turn the pillow over.

"Maybe I should rob a bank. THEN I could buy that DVD writer for the laptop"

"I think I will make a good robber" And now my Imaginarium starts creaking into action. 'Ladies and gentlemen, this will only take a minute. Put your belongings into this bag, and you behind the counter, push that button and Ill blow your head off, you sir Ill take that iphone also, you madam, you got a nice rack...' that's when the robbery scene turns into something else, but lets not talk about that now. I'm sure you people know by now I have got a pretty good imagination.

Anyway, that doesn't really help, cause you really wanna start counting sheep (which doesn't work if I do either) but the moment you start counting, the sheeps turn into anything.. Dirt Bikes, Bottles of..err...mazaa, Pamela Andersons..

This goes on till dawn when I can hear people start to wake up, some start sweeping, others start weeping. And now I am really cursing myself for losing so much time and pull the blanket over the head trying to get the last few minutes of sleep.

That's when I usually get some sleep..a long series of 20 second sleep intervals..I think. Probably what's kept me alive.

I have cut down the intake of coffee, hoping that it is what is causing the insomnia, not working. A tablet of citrizine has always helped me get some sound sleep. But I wouldn't resort to pills. Any other ideas?