Is the Apple still Adam's?

That's how the Apple India homepage looks. They could rewrite it as: "The phone you've been waiting for a year. Keep waiting. Or smuggle one from North America or Europe and have it unlocked." The homepage on the global site apple.com reads: "iPhone 3G. Twice as fast. Half the price. Coming July 11."

While I am (and other Indians are) eagerly waiting for the iPhone, and love it already even before we know when would it be officially launched in India, there is an entire community of iPhone haters out there. A majority of these haters are feminists, and someone might just sue Apple for being misogynistic.

A very important feature of the iphone, the multi-touch screen, allows sliding to scroll, pinching/unpinching to zoom, and whisking/dragging to flick/flip, apart from all other operations working by touch. But many women with long fingernails find it difficult to use the virtual QWERTY keyboard to type text. iPhone loves skin and does not work with fingernails and hence it becomes technically infeasible for people with long fingernails to provide bare skin for contact with a small key on the screen.

iPhone does not come with a stylus; it is not designed to have one, it responds to electrical charge emitted by fingertips. However, few companies like Ten One Design claim to have come up with aftermarket iPhone styli even though it disturbs the very essence of the smart phone. In the past, Apple has said that it is more natural to use the pointing device you are born with: the finger.

There is another set of companies that manufacture phone fingers to keep your touch screens smudge-free. These phone fingers are made out of very thin latex, and have obvious sexual uses, and can go as another component in the misogynous claims against the manufacturers of iPhone, even though they do not produce or encourage the use of any such protective sheaths.

Long-nailed ladies have been complaining of this on several forums on the web, including one on Apple's own site, but there are few who are compromising enough to have their fingernails trimmed or use the side of their fingers, whereas there are some who do not have any problems even when they have French manicures.

I've already registered for an iPhone. Let me see when do I get my hands fingernails onto it.

Celeblogs

Gossipmongers are not the only ones blogging. The subjects of gossipers' gossips are also publishing their own gossip online. Writing a blog is in vogue among the nation's who's who these days.

Aamir Khan started blogging a year ago and started with throwing light on some of film making processes, apart from his views on some other things, including his caretaker's pet's royal nomenclature. A much lesser known blog was started by the non-smoker Anurag Kashyap almost a year before Aamir, expressing his passion for cinema, especially his own cinema taking eight years. Amitabh Bachchan joined some two months ago, and has been à la angry-young-man hitting back anyone who says and has said anything against him or his family, including defending L'Oreal's work on his daughter-in-law's Cannes dressing. Ok, ashes was impressed with his writing some time back and had expressed that on his own blog, but now yeh to too much ho gaya yaar.

Next came the aag-baboola Ram Gopal Verma who started up giving dimwitted, (I am sure he believes otherwise) reactions to reactions on anything even remotely related to his movies, and even persuaded the newest and the prettiest member of the Bachchan clan to do the same for him. Lalu Prasad Yadav, who was already popular on the web owing to dating site LalooRabri.com, about which the minister had innocently quipped, "Dating maane to?", has now started real politician-style with his blogposts both in Hindi and English, and for the uninitiated, even with an audio podcast.

Shahrukh Khan wrote his first blogpost on his Knight Riders website. I am glad his was strictly business and not about his dog or someone else's dog for that matter. Karan Johar was late in the bandwagon since he couldn't come up with something and had to think for days of what to write in his first post. Thankfully he is not as prolific as the big B; hearing his voice repeatedly in the mind while reading his posts would have made many a young men desert their women.

Mandira Bedi has announced she'll start soon. Let's hope its not about cricket. We've transparently seen too much of it. There are a few more inconspicuous TV actors who've got bored of the Saas-Bahu saga and have found real-life soaps more interesting.

But what brings these celebrities to the keyboard? "Getting close to fans" is the standard reason quoted. Eliminating the middlemen who manipulate the truth is another. Venting out frustration on failures is one of my guesses. Making a fashion statement, fanmail being blocked by secretaries/wives/girlfriends can be other reasons. Joblessness can be an important trigger too, like it is for yours truly.

As with many other things, celebrity-bragging has been prevalent in the First World countries much before than it arrived in India. Bruce Willis, Donald Trump, Jackie Chan, Paris Hilton, Anna Kournikova, Victoria Beckham are a few well-knowns publishing out directly to fans. Here is a list of such celebrities and their blogs, but beware before you look out and click at the eighth item on the list, it is tempting but would lead to disappointment.

But using mute, poor animals against colleagues they call brethren? Ranting out loud? Chronicling one's daily schedule? Discussing sexual preferences? Reality sells you'd opine, but we already have an overdose of it all around us. Yeah, something on the lines of Truman Show would still be welcome, unless Truman Burbank is a tall old man with a white French beard sitting on an Italian commode with a Macbook precariously balanced on his knees typing a blog with single finger.

Vantage Point

Director	Pete Travis
Cast	Dennis Quaid, Matthew Fox, Forest Whitaker
Released	13th Feb, 08 (Salamanca, Spain)
	20th Feb, 08 (USA)
	2nd Mar, 08 (India)
My Rating	3.5/5

An assassination attempt made on the US President who is holding an anti-terrorism summit in Spain. Secret Service Agents Thomas Barnes and Kent Taylor look for some clues on Howard Lewis's handycam as there is a blast at the podium, leading to further pandemonium. The film loops over and over from different participant's perspectives wherein the plot convolutes as the storyline rewinds and restarts at the same point in time eight times over; the secret service agent and terrorists anticipating each other's moves and outdoing each other. Ultimately the mystery unfolds and you feel good about all pieces falling into place.

The best part is the car chase scene in the end, amidst the already chaotic city, that kept me on the edge of my seat. Fast and jittery camera work during the entire length of the chase keep adrenaline pumping in as you watch the Chevrolet Astra chasing the Police car. It is absolutely amazing and cool!

The locales are spectacular, in the ancient Spanish city of Salamanca, although the golden sandstone buildings occupy only a few frames in the beginning of few perspectives.


Dennis Quaid has done complete justice to his job. He portrays the strong and convincing look of a person handling such an important position, and his sharp, aquiline eyes are on the vigil every instant. Forest Whitaker also played his part of the innocent, courteous, helpful tourist well, who had to go through so much. Israeli Ayelet Zurer looks good as the mastermind's sidekick.

On the flip side are an ending that could have been better, a few goofs and some improbable uses of technology, and no explanation on the terrorists' real motives.

Overall, a fast-paced action thriller that keeps you engaged from beginning till the end, rapid-fire editing and cinematography topped up with a few good actors and an interesting narrative make Vantage Point a must watch.

The Road to BIAL

I had a chance to visit the new International Airport at Bangalore thrice in the first two weeks of its operation. I found the airport is a huge improvement on the old HAL...quite spacious, good facilities, clean, sleek construction, free wifi internet inside the terminal, better directions and information for passengers, larger parking and drop-off areas, sheltered walkways.




Perhaps everyone would agree to BIAL being better than HAL on the above parameters (apart from a select few who heard somebody say BIAL is not large enough to handle the aiport traffic and they decide that the airport is not up to the mark). Most of the Bangaloreans, however, are worried about the airport being outside the city.

I don't find that as a negative. The airport is outside the city but the traffic is definitely reduced on the old airport road. Many junctions on the roads connecting the new airport have been made signal-free, and that has lessened the average man's day-to-day travel time. It used to take me 40-55 minutes to travel 13 kms to work everyday, and now it takes 25-40 minutes even at the peak hour. Also, you travel to the airport four to six, maybe ten, twenty times a year, but you travel to work around 250 times a year--the time you spend everyday on Bangalore roads has been reduced to quite an extent.

The highway leading to the airport, once you reach Hebbal flyover, is eight-laned. You have proper lights on roads and reflectors on lane markings, barriers on sides. The good road surface coupled with the great Bangalore climate makes it quite a drive. I was surprised to see people overtaking me when I was cruising at 120 kmph, above which my modest Alto wouldn't accelerate me to. The airport is at an exact distance of 30 kms from my home at Mattikere, and I took a little less than 25 minutes to travel that distance, averaging 72 kmph. Not bad. The HAL is 21 km from my place, and I could never reach there in less than 35 minutes, and that too at 3 in the morning. There are humps at the few (four if I remember correctly) signals on the highway though, which are due to the villages on the way. Eliminate the signals by means of underpasses and flyovers and I bet you could average out 100 with a faster car.

The high-tech Vayu Vajra buses are real nice and comfortable, and you simply cannot dismiss it as a common man's mode of transport.

The best option that was supposed to be available, but I could not find when I travelled from Delhi and landed at BIAL on its third day, was the rent-a-car service. I had my own car the other two times, but driving an Innova, Corolla, or Endeavour on those roads can be real exciting!

Another late-night post

Everything was so calm and tranquil. There was almost no wind; the sky was overcast but there was a certain coolness in the air, quite cooler than indoors. Things looked so different and beautiful in the night. After an average day at work and a not-so-good evening just before leaving, I had come home, had dinner, and after my parents had retired to sleep, had gone down to the park in the apartment. It was well past midnight, and the park was completely deserted, which is otherwise full of children playing around on seesaws and slides and monkeytraps, older children playing basketball and badminton, and people on their evening walks. After strolling along for some while in the park, I had sat down by the side of the swimming pool. I just hung out there, quietly, connecting...

The water and I.

A striking contrast at the moment, I still somehow liked it being there. Wanted to draw some inspiration. I don't know how long did I stay there--it was one of those times when I did not want to think anything but could not help thinking. One of those times when I was doing exactly what I was trying very hard not to. The evening's incidents revisited in my head. I was trying to analyse the (f)utility of everything...debating with myself, admonishing myself, getting angry at myself, and so on and so forth. I wished I could get drunk. And on my side lay the waterbody, so calm, still, serene, and unagitated, as if complementing me.

The tranquility and the turbulence.

Bachchan's Big Blog

I am late by a month and you'd already have visited Big B's Big blog at bidadda.com. I came to know of it last week when I surfed upon an interview of Amitabh on CNN-IBN which mainly concentrated on the blog.

Amitabh Bachchan also seems to have reached the power of blogging to interact with his fans, after Aamir Khan, who started blogging a year ago. However, as opposed to Aamir, who generally has short posts, Amitabh writes at length after his first post, and goes on to publish his interviews and views on various things, shares his thoughts and experiences, talks about his family and work, gets pensive at times and ponders over life and its aspects, like a general blooger. And as a celebrity blogger, replies to articles on the press, rectifies and clarifies accusations, rants out against media allegations.


Reading his blogs make you feel so close to him. You feel like he is directly talking to you about normal life routines, and is discussing his problems with you like a friend. He reads comments and responds to them too. Obviously we cannot expect him to respond to each and every of the thousands of comments he gets daily, but he answers to people's queries, thanks them for their appreciations, and clarifies things.

The epitome of humility and downtoearthness that Amitabh is, his blog reflects that. For example, he writes in his 26th April post about Abhi-Ash wedding:

Every member of my entire staff with their families, people who have worked and remained with us for over 30 years, drivers, cleaners, kitchen staff, peons, minders, office bearers, security, helpers - formed the major portion of my (invitation) list. My family, Jaya, Abhishek, Shweta, my grand children and I all sat with them and looked after them, served them food with our own hands and nothing in the world could have given us more pleasure than doing that. For me they were my most important guests.

The blog is much talked about in all forms of media. People wonder why does he have to take the trouble of answering every little matter thrown up by the media and dignifying them. Some daily accused him of being super-sensitive, taking offence at the slightest provocation. He replies back here by saying that after years of accusing him of arrogance, non cooperation and aloofness, after years of pleading for response, reaction and information, now that he is providing it himself through his blog, the media suddenly starts cribbing the other way round. He does play tit-for-tat at times, which goes against his modest image, but I appreciate him all the more for that. However down to earth one may be, they should not let anybody talk anything about them. And if they do, they need to be corrected, in their own language.

There is lot to know about the actor on the blog. There is lot to learn and get inspired. I already look forward to his post everyday and his blog would definitely form one of the blogs I would like to keep in my reader for ever.

The only thing I wonder is, how does he manage so much in 24 hours? Working at odd and for long hours, keeping in touch with friends and family, giving speeches and interviews, reading the print and electronic media and keeping track of who said what so as to hit back on his blog, and blogging on top of it! These are the activities he talks about on the blog. There would be definitely many more. There sure is lot of hard work even for a living legend like Amitabh Bachchan. Is the procrastinator in me listening?

Bilaspur

Perhaps the few readers I was able to coerce into have gotten used to my irregular posting or are thankful I am not writing for almost two months now, or knew I was busy and did not have the time/leisure/frame of mind to actively blog, even though I always followed up on the blogs I have on Google Reader all these two months but the last two-and-a-half weeks I was off the internet. However, it would be untrue if I concur my friends and attribute lack of time or energy as the reason for non-blogging—I had all the time in the world while at work if not at home, and my computer had uninterrupted incoming flow of energy—the reason is plain laziness. I could even have composed some blogs during my two-weeks stay at Bilaspur and half-a-week travel by rail summing up to-and-fro; in fact I had wanted to draft some from the scene of crime and post later, but couldn't do away with the pleasant afternoon siestas in front of coolers, something you don't get to relish in Bangalore.

Coolers are not the only thing I miss. Visiting my grandma's house brought up memories of childhood, when Mom and sisters and I used to spend our entire summer vacations there—year after year, till I entered college eight years ago. It was the first time after that that I visited the place again, and I could get nostalgic everyday remembering myself sitting bleary-eyed in mornings in the large foyer opening to the aangan, pull-ups at the rod in the foyer, perching at the staircase in the aangan with my summer-vacation-homework, afternoon naps at the room on the first floor, solving Hindi crosswords in archived newspapers, flying kites on the terrace which was accessible only through a wooden ladder I was always afraid of climbing—everything was so fun, and seems so distant now. We would wait for Maama to return from office and take us out to Company Garden and snacks at ICH. I would join my cousins in shopping for the daily needs at Shanichari. The other Maamas and families would visit us on weekends from nearby cities, and we would play cards late into the night; I remember often more than 10 people playing on three decks, and almost an equal number queued up for their turn.

Bilaspur Junction Railway Station

Everyone had visited this time also, but then almost everyone, including I, was busy with my sister's marriage, and we had moved to another, bigger house the latter part of my stay. However, I couldn't help getting emotional every time I visited the 70-year old house to get some stuff. Old constructions always excite me, and this was one I had spent quite some beautiful summers in. The house is located in Juna Bilaspur, Juna being the Chattisgarhi word for old. Its like the Purani Dilli, with all the rush and crowd. And the entire locality has those old constructions, most of them with khaprail tile roofs, which adds to my liking. Then there is the Arpa river which brims up only in monsoons, but the river bed, and one of the many bridges one has to cross to go to the other part of the city, provide a picturesque landscape. I so much missed carrying my camera around in all the rush. It would have been infeasible stopping at the roadside taking pictures when I had so many people to coordinate with and so many arrangements to be taken care of.

Anyways, this was a welcome change away from the click-and-touch world I live in otherwise. I had to get my hands dirty, and go back to the real world where you need to literally sweat out to get things done, and the todo is not a list of online sites you need to visit. Bilaspur is quite different a city than the bigger ones like Bangalore and Delhi, although it has changed considerably in the past eight years I couldn't pay an annual tribute to it. The roads, the marketplaces, new apartments and constructions, malls and hangouts, increased traffic, the new place in the administrative map it has got—there has been a complete metamorphosis, and I cannot do full justice to it unless I put it off for another post.

मन रे तू काहे न धीर धरे?

मन रे तू काहे न धीर धरे
ओ निर्मोही मोह न जाने जिनका मोह करे
मन रे तू काहे न धीर धरे

इस जीवन की चढ़ती ढलती
धूप को किस ने बाँधा
रंग पे किस ने पहरे डाले
रूप को किस ने बाँधा
काहे यह जतन करे
मन रे तू काहे न धीर धरे

उतना ही उपकार समझ कोई
जितना साथ निभा दे
जनम मरण का मेल है सपना
यह सपना बिसरा दे
कोई न संग मरे
मन रे तू काहे न धीर धरे
ओ निर्मोही मोह न जाने जिनका मोह करे
हो मन रे तू काहे न धीर धरे

—साहिर लुधियानवी

Love at first sight

Scene 1: The meeting.
Location: Mekhri Circle, from CV Raman Road towards Jayamahal road.

"Excuse me, how do I go to Cunningham Road?", was how she began from within her helmet, her pearly whites forming a magnificent smile, and her beautiful, azure eyes were gleaming with innocence.

"It's 4.8 km from here; you'll have to go straight, and keep following the curves till you reach an underpass on the right after which you'll have to take a compulsory left, and then you'll reach the Cantt station; the road then forks into two, take the right one, at the end you'll find a 'T' where you take a right, and a right at the next signal (approximately 1.1 km) would lead you to Cunningham Road.", blurted I in a single breath.

She had broken into a giggle by then, and obviously could not have followed the entire set of instructions thrown ruthlessly at her. She was perhaps a Punjabi, quite fair, high, glowing cheekbones, skin soft-as-a-baby made her look all the more cute. Amid chortles, she asked in a tone so innocent I was flabbergasted, "How far is your underpass?". I was quick to statistically respond with 3.4 km, and her pillion joined her in the chuckling, perhaps amused by me being such a nerd at numbers.

A sudden flash of realization dawned upon me as I saw the red light turn orange, that the poor girls were on a bike with a Delhi number plate (and hence perhaps new to Bangalore) and that I would pass through the exact route. Just in time before orange turned to green, I told her about the latter part of my revelation and advised her to follow me.

Scene 2: The ride.
Location: Jayamahal Road, Station Road, Queens Road.

I keep glancing on the rear view mirror as she follows me, and enjoy strolling in the third gear at 40 even though the road ahead is clear and inviting. She is quite animated, talking to her friend all the time, often gesturing with her left hand, the right on the throttle, seemingly quite oblivious with her being on the road. Thankfully the traffic was a bit peaceful today.

Scene 3: The parting.
Location: Indian Express Circle.

Seeing they were always on the extreme left, I halted a few hundred metres before the crossing, and she almost banged into my bike. The familiar string of giggles followed. I suggested them to keep on the rightmost lane and take the next right and their road would begin. She took off her helmet and thanked me profusely before parting. Boy, was she pretty! I was completely floored! As always, I was at a loss of words. And numbers. Am even now. Didn't even ask for her number, nor could I note down the registration number of her Kinetic Nova.

Scene 4: The aftertaste.
Location: Prestige Obelisk.

I sit down at my cubicle and ponder as I write this, working intermittently, over the possibility of Love-at-first-sight. And I realise that love is too complex a phenomenon to occur so shortly. There are a host of traits and attributes you'd generally like to have in your partner. Most people who fall in love do not do so blindly. Often it is a well-planned, well-thought series of actions. Ok, you don't have a checklist, but you do have an idea, and you fall in love with the person who falls in the set of ideas you have about them.

This is an endless topic and I can go on and on. But yes, I felt a bit different with this female I met today. I would definitely like to try things out with her. We might be able to, if Miss Giggles somehow chances upon this post, but that's a probability I am not really banking upon.

Blog away the Blues!

Given the deep blues I seem to be in this week, that was the very apt hyperlink I saw on yahoo.com I saw this morning while logging in to check my mail. I generally am unable to read news online, more due to a lack of interest than due to a lack of time. This article, however, caught my eye, and plunging into it showed me the results of an Australian study.

Quoting the ANI report based on two related studies conducted by Swinburne University Technology in Melbourne, Australia, blogging can boost people's social life, by making them feel less isolated, more connected to a community and more satisfied with their friendships, both online and personally.

The study, published in the latest issue of the journal CyberPsychology and Behaviour, involved a survey on 134 users of MySpace, an international site that offers email, a forum, communities, videos and weblog space. The study involved some users who intended to blog and others who did not, and analyzed their behaviour and stress levels and 'social satisfaction' after a two-month period. Those that originally intended to blog reported feeling more satisfied socially as a result of being a part of a group of like-minded individuals.

"It was as if they were saying 'I'm going to do this blogging and it's going to help me' ", said Susan Moore, one of the researches. That was exactly my belief when I started writing this post, but I always had the intention and it never helped. Let me see if the act itself helps...

Sleep-Writing

Got an insignificant, or as it seemed from the ‘Esteem’ brought by Pepsi.

It was a cold winter night of 1998; the clock would have read past two. I was at the dining-turned-study table, had a hot cup of coffee alongside. Working out some mechanics problem from Irodov was the last I remember before falling asleep. When I woke up a half-hour later, I found myself face down on the diary I used to maintain then (which I later destroyed page-by-page because it was full of depressing stuff), the above sentence scrawled over it, and cold unfinished coffee spilled on the table. I have absolutely no idea what does the sentence mean, even though I wrote it.

Somniscription. [sŏm-nĭ-skrĭp'shən] -noun.

Under the larger category of parasomnias, the act of writing while the sufferer is asleep or in a sleeplike state; generally occurs earlier in the night when rapid eye movement (REM) or the ‘dream stage’ of sleep has not yet occurred.

[Origin: 2008; from L. somnus “sleep” + scriptus, pp. of scribere “to write”].

The sentence makes no sense, is grammatically incorrect, and the words Esteem and Pepsi are ambiguous. Crap, in short. You don’t expect expert verse from someone who is fast asleep. Like other sleep-related disorders, a somniscribe is not aware of his actions in sleep.

Somniscription is quite rare a phenomenon, which can be ascertained from the fact that I could not find any word on the world-wide-web that describes sleep-writing. Or maybe it is included in the larger umbrella of somnambulism, sleep-walking, which however, clearly includes sleep-eating and sleep-sex (BTW, what’s the fun if you don’t know you are doing it?). The only two resources talking about sleep writing I could google out were:

• this page from Encyclopedia Britannica, which talks about people writing in sleep with a mental picture of the page before them and the words they have written. They do not see what they actually write, and the page talks about an experiment that proves this.
• this blogpost by one Joel Derfner, where the linguist-turned-musician- turned-aerobics instructor wonders if he was actually setting up e-mail accounts in his sleep and e-mailing himself entries for his own Blogalike contest. He tries to come up with a word equivalent to somnambulate that meant writing in sleep but finds ‘somniscribe’ revolting.

I never had somnambulism or somniloquy, and not even the act by the word I just coined—somniscription. This was one isolated incident that happened, and I don’t think it might happen again; I have anyways become addicted to technology and no longer use a pen and paper to write. Yeah, maybe some day I wake up on my laptop to find I typed a post on my blog while sleeping, in which case I’ll have to come up with another term.

See also: Searching the net about somnambulism and somniloquism led me to a few interesting people who’ve recorded their sleep-talks and uploaded them on their blogs:

Somnography of Somniloquy
Sleep Talking On The Mic
Somniloquy Revelation

Should I watch Saanwariya?

I refuse to spell it the way Sanjay Leela Bhansali did, even though it is his product and he is free to spell it SSanvarriyaa, or S-A-W-R-Y-A, or maybe S-E-W-E-R-A-G-E. For a detailed reasoning, please visit one of my previous posts here, where I did an RoR on the movie.

Anyways, the question is, should I watch Saanwariya after all the criticism I got from the critics and media and blogs? As per my Review on Reviews, a few people enjoyed the movie, whereas a few others said it sucked! Someone said it is a one-time-watch.

I want to watch it because it is an SLB flick, and I have liked all his previous endeavours. The kind of effort he puts in his film-making, the grandeur, the intensity he shows, the way he makes non-actors like Aishwarya Rai act, everything is commendable. All his movies have had some wonderful music too. While some people (especially the lady bloggers I reviewed) liked the blue-black-green ambience throughout the movie, some others complained about SLB having shot the entire movie only at nighttime without lights. I think I'd love the gray (blue+green+black would anyways make gray). Sonam Kapoor's hairless back, unlike her father's, also tempts me to watch it, even though I'd like to skip Ranbeer's towel-sequence.

Now this colleague Vijay Krishna Mishra had a copy of Saanwariya, but he wouldn't share it with me. In fact, he deleted it because he did not like the movie and thinks he would be considered crazy if he tries to download it again. However, on my repeated and genuine requests, and some emotional blackmail 10 minutes ago, he is ready to download it for me, but with a condition: I write a post about it, asking people whether I should watch it or not, and if a single person answers in the affirmative, Vijay will download it for me. His addendum pops up on the IM as I write this post: I should play a fair game and not coerce anyone into saying a yes.

So all of my readers, especially she who wanted to watch it with me, please give me your honest opinion. All those whose answer is negative please consider if they watched a few memorable masterpieces of the last year like "Dhamaal", "Welcome", and "Khoya Khoya Chaand". If you have watched and liked any of these, you are not eligible to say a "No".

Please go ahead and participate in the poll by putting a comment. Please be frank and do not be afraid of Vijay. He is not Vijay Deenanath Chauhan, after all.

PS: The poll shall be open even after he is filled to his heart's content by one positive comment, and the post shall be open for other comments as well.

The Urge

As I read one of my favourite blogs in bed this morning, I had this peculiar urge: to work for a company whose office is located in the other end of city. I generally like riding any distances preferred to being time-bound with an office cab/bus, but today I felt I'd really like it, when I could sit down with my laptop, or a book, and enjoy my time up and down. The probability of a book, however, is much lesser, although that is what I used to do when I was in Delhi and used to travel back to my hometown on weekends.

View from my balcony.

Later (when I was completely awake): I realize this is quite a mammoth task to accomplish. Can't do that in one year. Too many strings attached.

My First Scratch

While reversing the car out of my parking, the bent right front wheel got stuck at the basement pillar. Shifting the gear to first, I inched ahead, but did not get the calculation right and the front of the car kissed another pillar. I did not feel the impact, but the security guard told me, and I got down to see four horizontal, small but visible lines at the corner of the bumper.

This happened barely a minute after I sat down for the first time at the steering wheel without someone who knew driving beside me. I bought a car last week, and this was meant to be a surprise birthday gift for Mom. My parents had been out for a month and had returned early morning last Thursday, and the car was delivered the same day in the evening. When I asked Mom and Dad to come down to the basement, they had thought I had wanted them to meet the girl I had finalized, and she had been shy and hesitant to come up home. Even after they reached the basement, it took them a couple of seconds to realize it were wheels and not heels.

So, the ten-day-old car has a minor scratch thanks to the overconfidence gained through three hours of driving lessons. Just because I did not want to argue, the other day I agreed with a friend otherwise, but driving a car is more difficult than riding a bike, for the simple reason it adds an extra dimension. On the road, a bike can be considered to be one-dimensional, and you don't have to bother about the far left edge scraping something.

Also, a bike is completely integrated with your body once you alight, and you can do everything without lifting either of the hands or feet, unlike in a car, when you have to constantly shift your extremities. Due to the linear nature of a bike, it is much easier to manoeuvre small gaps between vehicles and switch lanes. Of course a car is more comfortable, and poses lesser risk for you (and more for others) on the road.

Well, a four- and a two-wheeler are meant to serve different purposes, and have their own sets of comforts and discomforts. I could ride a geared two wheeler around eleven years ago, even though I had my own only last year. But never started learning driving a four wheeler till I bought one. And now that I have put my money into it, I'll have to learn driving, and no level of listing the problems of a car against the merits of a bike can really help.

A Sleepless Dream Come True

I have always found sleeping a waste of time. My parents find my nocturnal tendencies pretty normal now and get worried if I go to bed before the wee hours of the morning. I have this bad habit of stretching myself in many things, sleep being no exception—my average slumber on weekdays turns out to be little over 5 hours, and on the weekends to 7 hours. I try to be up with my computer on the lap till I literally fall asleep. Oftentimes my friends on the opposite side of the globe suddenly find themselves talking to a non-respondent, snoring ashes, oblivious of the repeated BUZZ!es on the IM window in the middle of a conversation; the clock might say fivish in the morning then.


I have always wished I could stay up longer utilizing time, though I am never able to make proper use of it; I would rather keep awake and waste time reading irrelevant stuff over the internet or chat about trivial issues or simply surf channels on the television or check my emails several times, but nevertheless, that’s not the point. The essence is I want to waste as less time on sleep as possible. Maybe if I know I would not fall asleep, I’d be able to plan out and execute things in a better fashion.

I had often wished there was some alternative to sleep, a pill or something. A recent study by Darpa-funded scientists at UCLA has made my dream come true. The research advocates a naturally occurring brain hormone Orexin A to be a promising candidate to become a sleep-replacement drug. This peptide could be used in a nasal spray, as it was used in the relatively benign study on primates, which reversed the effects of sleep deprivation, allowing them to perform like well-rested monkeys on cognitive tests.

Such a product could be widely desired by millions of people across the world who feel twenty-four hours a bit too less to do all that they want to. People would use it to work or party longer, or to increase alertness wherever and whenever needed. Students could work and study and enjoy, reducing the inactive time in bed. Working mothers can do full justice to their children and work. Children could stuff going to school and completing their homework and playing—all in a day without the loss of any one of them.

On a larger scale, countries legalizing this drug may develop into faster-rising economies than the ones prohibiting its use, for the simple reason their people would be able to work longer hours. Salaries would plunge because of instant doubling of manpower. Securities can keep round-the-clock vigil with less number of shifts and much lesser risk. Well, there can be several unpredictable uses that can change the world around us.

However, I am not very optimistic about the drug hitting the shelves very soon. I believe it is still “miles to go before I don’t sleep”. For one, some other counter-research might find not sleeping resulting in cardiovascular or metabolic disorders, or worse, impotency and infertility, as half of the studies on half of your daily actions reveal. Second, any commercial treatment using Orexin A would need approval from the FDA, which can take several years.

Till then I can only use caffeine and lose sleep dreaming about an anti-sleeping-pill.

The Destiny of an Innocence

She is growing up. Looks quite old now. Totally human. Unlike six months ago when her movements were restricted to blinking and random, clumsy hand- and feet-throwing and crying. Now she can crawl, smile, giggle, play, throw tantrums, all of which make her so cute and lively and bouncy and innocent and loveable.

However, as I clicked a few photographs of her yesterday, copied them on to my computer, and revisited them (like the one here), I felt apprehended. For the first time has a child scared me with her photo, and such a pretty child at that. She looks very human now. Very soon, she would be able to understand language, speak, and then think and understand and feel. And then emotions would start cropping up. Doom! There you go!

She would have option to choose. She will start discriminating between people. She would begin loving, caring, and would demand more of the same from others. She would start 'wanting'. She would expect from people. She'd feel bad. She'd feel good. She'd start enoying material things. She would begin a lot of things we do, and...

I am not exaggerating at all when I say I felt a shudder down my spine when I saw her photographs. Why do we have to have feelings? Can this child not be spared from the evils of the world and her innocence be preserved in its original form?

Sometimes

Sometimes you think you are smart. You have wrong notions about yourself, and there is no one to correct you. You live your entire life with those wrong notions and die with them.

Sometimes you think you are lonely. You know you are, and you desperately try to get rid of either the loneliness or at least the thought. You find someone and the loneliness evaporates. Or you find some engagement and the thought vanishes. But sooner or later, that someone goes away. Or they find some engagement. Or your engagement finishes off. You are back to being lonely again.

Sometimes you go to bed early. You generally do not. Often you don't even try. Keep up and waste time. You vow everyday you'll sleep before midnight or do something worthwhile, but you somehow never manage that.

Sometimes you try not to think. Generally you keep pondering and meditating and musing and reflecting and mulling over and ruminating and contemplating. Often you don't even try not to think. Your thoughts keep fluttering randomly. Keep disturbing you. You daydream or get depressed or plan or fret.

Sometimes you love someone. You know they do not, but you do. Unrequited is the word. But that knowledge doesn't stop you from loving them even if you know there is no future.

Sometimes someone does that to you. You reciprocate back. But you still do not hold your feelings back for the old one.

Sometimes you watch movies. You generally do not. But you always want to. And sometimes you find company. And you watch them. Then they go to sleep. You stay up. Chat with a close pal. Start thinking. And then you compose this "off the split-ends of your long hair" post.

RoR

Now all of my geeky readers, please do not get salivating. RoR doesn’t mean Ruby on Rails here. AOE enthusiasts also hold on, this is no Rise of Rome either. This is a term I coined on the lines of FoF (Fund of Funds), an investment fund that uses the strategy of holding over other funds rather than investing directly in shares, bonds or other securities, and stands for Review of Reviews.

The motivation behind writing an RoR comes from three most prolific bloggers on my Google Reader coming up with their versions of reviews of a common object—what else could it be other than the most talked about movie these days—Saawariya. And interestingly enough, they published their reviews of the 9^th Nov-released-flick on the same date, the 15^th of Nov, when the Recent blogposts I read widget on my blog looked too replete with Saawariya and I had to increase the number of items it displays by 50%.

I generally prefer reviews of non-professional critics rather than the likes of Taran Adarsh and Nikhat Kazmi; you can relate to views of people you know than to those of people who are paid to review, even if you know them only by regularly reading their frequent blogposts. The professionals are always biased anyways.

The review I liked the most was Washington based Great Bong’s, a disgruntled movie fanatic on the prowl for mind bending experiences, who, in his usual wit and humor, and sentences as long as half a page, puts Saawariya as the worst of the Sanjay Leela Bhansali lot: “a big plastic bag of hot air where dreamy sets, hued lighting and forgettable music is used to divert attention from the fact that there is absolutely nothing in this venture”. He mocks SLB on his belief about his direction and his interviews and his “merger of raga-based melodies with a Brodway style play”, calls Ranbir a “little tinker-bell of a man”, innocent and poor, and describes Sonal as demure and virginal and giving us more than a few glimpses of her back, “devoid of abundant and luxuriant fur”, unlike her dad Anil Kapoor’s. Salman Khan looks confused—he took off his top, but Ranbir went one step ahead and took off his bottom. Great Bong doesn’t even spare Rani: “Rani Mukherjee’s golden-hearted ‘lady of commerce’ performance completes a hat-trick of prostitute acts (which film historians refer to as her ‘blue period’)”.

A Bangalorean blogger, LongBlackVeil, deeply interested in deeply interesting things, especially nonsense, did not regret watching the movie. She finds the aesthetics stunning, likes the black-blue-green ambience, and loves the music. Although she likes Ranbir’s hairless chest and Neetu Singh smile, she doesn’t like his and Sonam’s characters, and the lack of chemistry between the two. She does like Rani’s role, but expresses afsos over SLB’s weak screenplay, mediocre dialogue and absolutely minimal character development. But she likes the movie as a whole anyways and thinks “it’s just a victim of those horrible old beasts: Great Expectations, and What Could Have Been”.

Cuckoo from Bombay terms the movie as an outright flop. She did not see any trailers, didn’t read about it anywhere, and did not even let anybody talk about it in front of her. She wanted a surprise and she admits the movie “indeed surprised her by nose diving in the theatres”. I can see her state of shock—unlike her other posts, this one was quite laconic, filled with a lot of oversized, black ant-like emoticons.

Anadi, a regular reader and commenter on my blog from Tampa, Florida presents his review on a comment on my RoR. He finds the movie can be watched once despite the criticism, because of its freshness. He believes SLB tried to stretch a half-hour movie to over two hours with filler material that just does not fill up. Like LongBlackVeil, he also senses a lack of chemistry between the debuts, who are otherwise impressive. He says Bhansali's fairytale viewpoint cannot be considered an excuse to a lack of script and pathetic dialogues.

Nova, Bangalore-based crazy, eccentric, conceited, independent, emotionally detached and a near fanatic for things she believes in, is the only blogger I read who is all praises for Saawariya. She feels the movie was two hours of pure bliss, a visual delight and music to ears sore of cacophony people sell in the name of music. She believes the new kid has met all tremendous expectations he had set. Now, Ms Nova, he would definitely have met all expectations and made it a visual delight with his towel sequences. She finds Sonam to be ordinary, just like you would expect a debutante to be. So she also met expectations! All tremendous ones! But alas, the poor thing did not get a chance to have a sequence in a towel, let alone drop one. Anyways, Nova warns her readers not to watch it for mindless jokes and dumb action but to watch it if you want to watch a poetry in motion on celluloid! She goes on to quote a phew! comments from people on indiafm.com before ending.

So, will I go and watch the movie? Don’t know. If I get company I might. Am not too keen; might watch the grandeur on my beloved laptop. I shall, however, continue adding RoRs to this post as other feeds on my reader show up Saawariya. But one way SLB disappointed me was by naming it ‘Saawariya’, which is not a word. The correct word is ‘Saanwariya’ (साँवरिया)— one of Lord Krishna’s names, derived from ‘Saanwla’—and I thought SLB was quite meticulous and sort of perfectionist. Maybe kyunkii he is quite superstitious too and some numerologist advised him otherwise, who could anyways not spare him from the wrath of critics and reviewers, and of course ashes’ also for spelling it incorrectly in Hindi too!

Weekend Sunrise

No assignments to be submitted in the morning, no exams to be attempted, and no deadlines to be met. But it reminded me of the good old hostel days when we used to stay awake through the major part of the night idling away, watching a movie, or simply chatting, or playing NFS or even watch someone else play. I really enjoyed the night-out yesterday reading, writing, watching, playing, crunching numbers, and getting nostalgic doing the various other things I generally enjoy on my computer.

During my joie de vivre, little did I realize the most gratifying part lay at the end of the night. It was just before the break of dawn when I crept up to the terrace, afraid I might wake up Mom, in which case I’d have got chided for being up all night.


The morning tranquil was so soothing, so fresh, and so cool. There were a few stray birds chirping here and there. The entire east side of the sky was a hue of yellowish-orange, getting redder by the minute. And then there was this flock of birds frolicking in the far south, circling about in a huge wave. A couple of joggers caught my eye on the pavement beneath.

And then I saw it. The scarlet disc came out proudly out of the distant horizon, making the sky blush and turn into a crimson red.


I can’t remember when was the last time did I see the sun rise. Must have been ages. In fact I felt I had never felt the same ever before. It was such an exhilarating experience I could see my vision blurred of moistness. The expressions are inexplicable in words.


I never knew the sun rises so fast. One moment (06:22:03 AM) I saw a segment of it, and then suddenly (06:24:18 AM) it was the whole disc, and another moment (06:27:14 AM) it was bright enough to form a glare on my lens.


When I came down, Mom was already awake and was extremely surprised to see me coming from outside rather than from my room. Papa was up too, and I had another exalting experience: I prepared the morning tea for everyone, unlike another long time that my parents have been doing it for me everyday.

PS: The pictures above are actually thumbnails...you might want to click on them and enjoy the full-sized photographs.

BackRub

Ms Brown was not in a position to haggle. She was recently divorced and living with her sister, so when a small technology start-up offered her a job in 1999, she welcomed it with open arms. The post paid $450 a week, plus a pile of what were then worthless stock options. She was the 41st employee of the organization, which, like many other startups, was incorporated in a garage by two students.

Today, nine years later, the company has 15,916 employees, sports a revenue of $10.6 billion (2006), has a stock market worth of $207 billion, and is the most popular name on the internet—Google. Ms Brown is one of the 1000 employees who have accrued fortunes of at least $5 million apiece from the web-giant.

Oh, did I tell you about Ms Brown's job profile? She was hired as a masseuse. After five years of kneading engineers’ backs, she retired, cashing in most of her stock options, which were worth millions of dollars. Phoebe, are you listening?

Google shares recently hit an all-time high of $747.24, up nearly 900% from their debut. “I saved enough stock for a rainy day, and lately it’s been pouring,” Ms Brown said. “Every time I give some away, it just keeps filling up again,” she told The New York Times of the fortune that she reaped from her former employer in the course of just five years. She now owns a large house of her own and spends time travelling the world overseeing the charitable foundation that she founded with her windfall.

She is also looking for a publisher for her memoir—"Giigle: How I Got Lucky Massaging Google". And as you would expect, these days, at least once a week, she splashes out on her own private masseuse.

PS: The Google search engine was originally nicknamed "BackRub" (because the system checked backlinks to estimate a site's importance). I wonder whether that was Ms Brown's suggestion.