Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum!

There's always a lot of things I keep putting down in my secret book of Things To Do Before I Die.

However, I have this uncanny knack of losing the book every time it gets filled a few lines.

Today, I found one of those items listed at a blog . The link there actually lists how you can talk like a pirate and get away with it.

Too bad, if I had my book with me I could keep my appointment at the pearly gates!

Arrr! Shivers me timbers I tells you ! Arr!

Star Guru Not-So-Cool

News channels these days don't have a lot to talk about. I imagine the ratings and air-time must be a big problem. Here's the chief-in-chief of a soon-to-be-buried news channel talking at a boardroom.

"Okay guys. Here's the scoop. From now on we don't air anything unless it has something to do with someone in the Middle East, bomb blasts, rapes, executions, murders or tidal waves. For those of you who think the news is getting too depressing, throw some Mallika Sherawat in there. Oh .. and just in case you don't find anything still, do a movie review."

So it came as no surprise to me, when I switched on Star News today and realised that nothing sinister had happened in the world lately. The channel had decided to do a review of just released Mani Ratnam movie 'Guru'. They had decided that it wasn't big enough to fit a half hour slot, so they did the next best thing. They fit it into a four hour slot.

So for a good part of the morning, you could switch on your TV to find the big B being interviewed about the movie. Apparently, they could not get his son to comment, so Daddy did all the talking. He said that he thought the movie was fabulous (we can't believe you'd say that, by the way do you share a bank account), the music was great, Mallika sizzled and Aishwarya expressed herself very well in the movie. In the end, he managed to shed a few tear drops of 'joy' which the star-eyed reporter and his zoom-happy cameraman managed to lap up.

When they got bored of doing the Big B, bit they did a Dhiru Vs Guru comparison. The movie is supposed to be based on the life of Dhirubhai Ambani. Which is a good thing to know, but then the joblessness at the news channel must be at an all time high. It points out that among other things, both of them hold their hands to their chins when they are happy. News you can use people!

I won't attempt a review here, but can someone please tell me what Madhavan and Vidya Balan were doing in the movie. Were they only there to put Guru's softer side on display? They didn't do much. What they did I wish they hadn't given my feelings for the latter.

And here's a nice tip if you haven't seen the movie. When Gurukant comes for his first day of trading and runs up the stairs, check out the white wall on his left. There are two posters. One is Kagaz ke Phool. The other is a Mithun Da starrer. See if you can spot it!

And after everything has been said about everything, I save the postscipt for the belle. Mallika did what she does best. She gave the people their money's worth and news channels something to air.

Freeze Word 1

Benchmark:
IT people keep using the word benchmark all the time. "We need to benchmark ourselves to the best in the industry". I used to wonder where the word came from. Was it a mark that was placed on benches that people sat on? Well, the actual origin is more logical.. engineerically logical.

A "benchmark" was originally a mark cut into a stone or a wall by surveyors measuring the altitude and/or level of a tract of land. The cut was used to secure a bracket called a "bench" upon which they mounted their measuring equipment, and all subsequent measurements were made in reference to the position and height of that mark. Voila, "benchmark," which first appeared in English around 1842, and quickly began to be used figuratively in the "standard of quality" sense we see today.

Arabian Sukkar:

Checkmate comes from Shah Mat - The King is dead
Coffee comes from Kahveh which originally meant wine
Sugar comes from Sukkar for (ahem) sugar
and my favorite:
Mocha comes from Al-Mukah, a city in Yemen where wild Ethiopean coffee beans were brokered from which fine coffee could be made

"I'll have a Cafe Mocha with no Sugar please. Waleikum Assalam"

Fear Factor : Iyer Edition

"So where are you from"
"Chennai"
"Which part of Chennai"
"(Area in Chennai)"
"Which company do you work for"
"(company name)"
"That's nice."

The lady who just had this conversation with me was all smiles. I couldn't understand what part of it pleased her so much. My mom, standing next to me, was beaming with joy.

Cut to a few minutes ago, my mom and I were shopping happily in a nice shop biding time for a movie. As I went to the cash counter to pay up, she tugs my elbow and introduces me to an old gentleman and his wife.

The man is apparently my dad's doctor. Yes, my dad's doctor. As usual, he's 'heard all about me' and is 'pleased to meet me'. Then the spotlight is taken over by his wife who after few innocuous questions, gets straight to chase, the third degree.

The conversation above.

After the conversation is over, we leave; the two ladies looking at each other like two girls who just found a new place to hide their dolls.

When we step out I tell my mom to stop grinning and tell what's she so happy about. "That lady, the doctor's wife, who just spoke to you; they have a marriageable daughter"

Then reality sinks in. I realised that I had just been 'checked out' by some Maami I had never before met in my life! She was asking me personal questions that I would never have divulged to anybody. And she did so boldly, without informing me of her intent, also slyly taking advantage of the 'your-dad-is-a-patient-of-my-husband' factor. Added to that she asked me all the questions. Not my mom. She probably wanted to know what I sounded like. I wonder what stopped her from asking me what my bank balance was, how many girl friends I had, what car I drove, whether I had a spare copy of my horoscope in my wallet?! (I'm sure mom would have flashed it out of her purse in a jiffy)

Was I disgusted, ashamed, embarrassed? Yes all of that, but above all I was annoyed .. annoyed that my mom didn't let me in on the game sooner.

I'd have sucked my tummy in.

Losing My Virginity

I have these lonely spells in my life. These are those days in my life, when I come back from a hard day’s work to find the gloom of the house sitting patiently on the house waiting to welcome me. Once the formalities are over between the both of us, I wonder what to do. You can’t carry on a conversation with loneliness for a long time, with something inside your mind tell you that you're nuts.

It’s about then that you hear a deep burning hungry desire inside you. It troubled me that I had to do something to put it out. I picked up the phone to call the number where I knew there would be trained professionals who were experienced in making sure that I would be put out of my misery, as they had done time and time again in the past.

‘Good Evening! This is Chef Express, how may I help you?’ the familiar voice at the other end of the line greeted me. I gave him my number and asked what offer was going on. He told me that nothing much was happening, but I could get some cheap and good pizzas. He said the magic ‘c’ word. All the Indian instincts in me sprang up at the mention of the word. I ended up ordering a Mexican Picantè. It sounded classy, who knows maybe I would hit the jackpot this time around.

As I look back, I can almost never remember a time when I did not have some problem with an order that I placed over the phone. It gets delivered late, the guy comes late, they mess up the order, there are some items missing … I’ve been at the receiving end at the hall of shame of home deliveries.

The guy arrived on time for a change. I reckoned that my luck had changed. I munched on the garlic bread peacefully, delaying the moment when I would feast on pizza-in-waiting. It’s a bad habit that I have. I always save the best for the last.

Finally, I opened up the Mexican delicacy and I was stunned. Panner! I never order paneer in my pizzas. I also didn’t remember the guy including paneer in the toppings for the Picanté. Well, whatever it was, there was paneer on my pizza and it was pleading with me to eat it. So I obliged. I carefully picked out one piece and put it in my mouth.

Freeze that moment.

This was a very important second in my life. A second that I would never forget. The precise second that I lost my 25-year hard-fought, staunchly-defended Tamil Iyer virginity.

As I raced towards the sink, I realized that it was the first time in my life that any member of the chicken species had managed to make into my palates.

And I’m sure you’re asking, but even though I wouldn’t admit it to myself … yes … it was good.

A Day in the life of an ASM … Not!!

4/6/6: Officially the people in Madras don’t know what to do here now that the elections are over. The unanimous decision has been to take bath to beat the heat. So soaps are selling and I still have a job today. I went for a distributor’s party yesterday. They had invited all the company people of the various companies that they were handling. It was the first time I have ever heard of such a thing. Generally, it’s the company that calls all its distributors to a party. Anyway, I reached there and found to my surprise that I was the only ASM who had turned up. The organizers did not have much difficulty in figuring out a chief guest for the day. My feelings about the same were given no consideration. So with much feigned modesty, I took up the centre seat and had people sitting around me facing an audience.

While I had some difficulty in figuring out how position my elbow, how many times to sip the water and how to lean over and say the funny things that people in my position so easily do, I overheard the MC saying ‘And now our beloved ASM will share a few words’. Before I could put together a decent protest, a mike and a pin drop silence were held in front of my face.

I apologized to any staunch Tamilians present for the murder that I was going to commit there. When I got some measured laughter in response, I rattled on about families and businesses. The applause I got lasted a few seconds, but went on for minutes in my mind. Had I announced chief minister candidacy, there and then, I was sure to make a few votes at least. After that I had to hand over some gifts to people. The usual ‘Shake-Speak-Gift-Hold-Smile-Click-Shake-Bye’ procedure. Only this time I was at the giving end. Then someone came up and handed me a small package as a small token of their appreciation.

We had a buffet lunch, where for decency sake; I restricted myself to one serving of the food and three servings of the dessert. After that I went around shaking everyone else’s hand now a seasoned campaigner for the next MLA seat. After that I had an escort, walk me out all the way to the gate of the hotel. After I finally got him to leave, I eagerly tore open my little package. My eyes popped out of their sockets.

Staring at me quietly and innocently inside the box was a beautiful Titan Gold plated watch with a humble brown leather strap. While I gulped at how I could not accept this kind of a gift and how it was so improper for them to offer me something so expensive, I silently blocked off 4th of June 2007 for a ‘Do-not-Miss’ appointment. ;)

Which Mouse?

During my pretentious reading of management books during my MBA, I will never forget one book that I truly enjoyed reading. ‘Who moved my cheese’. I think the main reason I liked the book was because you were given an option to forget that it was a management book, where inevitably you would try to ferret out examples to quote in the classroom or a group discussion.

I always thought that I was the mouse that kept changing with the times. ‘Today’s cheese may be good, but who’s going to take care of tomorrow’s cheese’. Well what if I’m actually the big fat mouse who keeps eating everything. The cheese is the job and the change is the shift. While everyone (I mean everyone) around me running at a break neck pace to get new business cards for themselves, in the name of moving up, but mostly for the want of fatter wallets, I seem stupidly content at just staying put in the middle of this frenzy of activity.

Let me put down my justification for not switching on screen and let me say if it can convince the cynical me :

- There’s nothing wrong with my job right now. Nice boss, nice team, nice performance. No nagging complaints there.
- By industry standards, I would be earning good;
- There is too much goodwill to be lost

There’s no need and there is no desire. I always like to say that I take the road not taken. Isn’t this like the share market and the secret to cracking it... when everyone buys, sell; when everyone switches, stick.

And when everyone runs around you, just settle into a chair and grab some more cheese.

Madras .. It’s Hot

Experiencing Chennai in the summers can easily be arranged at anyone’s home. All that is required is a small hairdryer, an oven and the tonic that made Alice shrink in the wonderland story.

First take the hairdryer, blow it at full speed and point it directly between your eyes. That would give you a fair idea of the prevailing wind conditions in this place. One may be tempted to blow the hair dryer somewhere else fore a while, but the firmer the resolution, the more enhancing the experience.

After that, one must take a gentle sip of the potion and once shrunk to the size of a small chicken, should hop into the oven and sit there for a while. Temperature on Deep Fry. That’s the nearest to what all derma on your body feels when you are at the mercy of Chennai’s merciless sun. What I can’t figure out is how do the firangs adore sun bathing so much. Does making their skin look like Chicken 65 actually make them look better? If that were true, then can someone please explain to me why Fair and Lovely sales are booming in the South? As always, I guess god wrenched the spanner of unrest into our minds when we were made. Satisfaction is a virtue that one possesses only upto the point that one hears ‘A for Apple’. It’s all downhill from there.

A Glimpse at what to expect

I have a fancy for the orderly (orderly, not elderly). Maybe it’s a good idea if I can put dwon what I plan for the articles ahead.

This blog is what I look at as my online diary. Of crazy thoughts. If you’re reading and you’re a girl, this blog is intrinsically fulfilling your voyeuristic desires. If you’re a guy, then I ask you “Why?” If you have answer to that question, GO AWAY!

This blog will have scenes from my life. I usually find that kooky thoughts always spring to attention when I look at something for sometime. I will introduce you each of these Kooky Thoughts. Maybe we can think of names for them.

It will have sparks of wit and oodles of perv. I think that’s the way the world likes world likes it these days. Look at the weighted average of time audience spend watching Shakthi Kapoor with his humor and Malaika Arora.

For some strange reason the going will get very philosophical. That is because I was born with a birth defect. Half of me thinks that I'm me.. the other half thinks I’m Neo ;)

But on a serious note, I think that these blogs are a nasty manifestation of technology. People willfully put their private parts in the public and watch everyone stare at it, up and down. Chi!

I think that should do for a small jhalak. Not Bad? Dekthe Rehna!

F, tD