GUNTHROAT

Life is never gloomy when you are busy. I had learned this lesson during my stint in the placement cell. I make it a point to be busy whenever I am on a low. So when CAT was not smooth enough to give me confidence to even correct the paper, I decided to let myself wander. On Monday I went with Shobha kunjamma and Gopi chacha to Bangalore book festival. The main purpose was to buy some books for Gauri. It was a huge exhibition and I really wished I had a job so that I could swipe my ATM card without any feeling of regret. I decided not to buy anything and planned to come back on Wednesday. I heard a very bad news when I was inside the stall. I don’t want to discuss about it. Just want to say that God has gone to holidays in Swiss Alps and has lost touch with us. The return journey was eventful. There was a huge party gathering of JD(S) on palace grounds and the whole of Bangalore was held to ransom. It took almost 3 hours to reach home. It brought back memories of rallies done in marine drive by Karunakaran and Sons Pvt Ltd during the funny days of groupism in congress.
On Tuesday I went to British library and sat there for about 7 hours reading. I read some books on probability (one of my favourite subjects) in the beginning and later found a book on logic and borrowed it after reading for some time. I remember my cousin saying philosophy is one of the most interesting subjects, which can be used in the study of many other subjects. Logic is actually the first thing that is taught in philosophy. I also glanced through an essay against nuclear weapons by Arundhati Roy. She is an author whom I hate for no specific reason (maybe it is my male chauvinism that is working against her or is it the residues of right leaning?). But the essay was truly captivating. She is arrogant and impudent, the qualities that make me respect women. I hate women who are humble and shy. They don’t do any good to men. It is when men see truly competent women that we feel like improving ourselves and outwitting them as we are doing for ages.
Another interesting thing happened when I was searching net in the library. I found out those regular visitors from Santa Clara, California and Norwood, Massachusetts in the blogs of my friends were not videshis but deshis. When Vishal visits a blog the feedjit shows that the visitor is coming from Santa Clara (headquarters of intel) and when Nipun does the same it shows Norwood (HQ of AD). Anyway it was fun listening to the reactions of fellow bloggers who couldn’t conceal their shock of losing international viewership (that includes me).
After getting out of library I dropped down on the way to home at RT Nagar to see Lakshman. Poor chap he could buy me only a chat. Hope he will have the opportunity to treat me better next time.
Wednesday was the busiest day. Early morning I went to ISKCON temple. It was truly a superb experience tempting me to send a resume (which I didn’t) to the veritably international centre for marketing Indian Gods like the way we are marketing Yoga and Kamasutra. I decided not to be too judgemental about their motive. I simply fell in love with the structure and sheer size of the place. Professionalism was seen everywhere. Temple authorities back in Kerala can take a leaf out of the practices followed by these people. Then I took a bus to Palace grounds where I brought some charts and a book for Gauri. I also brought ‘Atlas Shrugged’ by Ayn Rand. Reaching home I had my lunch and then got off to Marathahalli, the new hang out for our gang.
Vishal has been planning to shift for a long time from his brother’s place and finally took an apartment near his office in Marathahalli. I went mainly to see my dear friends Ranees, Nipun and Vishal. I had a puff with Ranees and drink with Nipun after a long time. I really missed college when I saw them. Vishal gave me four books as a treat for getting into Intel. I am greatly pleased to see my little library growing. We talked for a long time. Nipun was a bit hesitant to talk in the beginning fearing my blogs but later when he got intoxicated words flowed from him as it always does.
On Thursday when everything got over and I was travelling back home through the boring outer ring road with scores and scores of IT parks and slums on both sides I thought of my life, its hopes, its whims, I thought of God (still abroad enjoying his vacation), his divine plans for me. I sensed life is not that bad. Life is rocking and complaining about it would be like getting angry about the low cooling AC when you are driving Mercedes Benz. Ya life rocks.........

Sometimes God grants your wishes in the same way you intended it to be, sometimes he delays it, and sometimes he plays pranks .There is a story of Narad the rishi asking God to make his face look like Hari (the god himself), but God making him look like a monkey. The reason He gave was Hari has multiple meanings, one almighty God and the other monkey (please note the people with the same name!!!). I am a victim of his pranks. Whenever I aboard a train the first thing I check is whether there is any young woman sitting near me. But in all these years I had to be content with M46s, F56s, and M25s. Recently when I was getting into train from Salem I prayed for an F20. But what I got was a bunch of Negroes (the worst part being they tried to evangelize me). But as I said earlier God is the worst prankster. When I went to write the CAT exam on Sunday (the last place I would mind having a distraction) I encountered his nastiest prank. The tables in the exam hall were pathetic and I was shivering even with my sweaters on. When the invigilator asked me to remove my sweater, I felt like killing him. But the worst part was yet to come. The seat beside me was vacant. Suddenly a very cute girl came inside the room. I virtually stood on my knees to pray never to make her sit beside me. But as it is said, man proposes, God disposes. She sat beside me. There are two disadvantages when a good looking girl sits beside you on an exam hall. One you get distracted and would be prone to lose focus (but thank god DI was too tough even to make me look at her) and two you can’t flirt in an exam hall (especially when it is CAT). So as usual nothing miraculous happened (both on amorous and academic fronts) and I got out 2.5 hours after the obnoxious ordeal. The next thing I did was run to forum to catch a movie.
I got a ticket for ‘vaaranam aayiram’ (see it for the music and first half) and much to my frustration Surya the protagonist in the movie meets his lady love Sameera sitting opposite to him in train. But the movie was really good in the first half. When Sameera(a university topper) says she is going to US to study MS for two years Surya, who also happens to be an engineering graduate asks her, is it the one (MS) that takes you 2 years to complete? She is career oriented and he is a quintessential vagabond. She still falls in love with him when he comes all the way to US for his love towards her. She accepts him for all his drawbacks (multiple backlogs and happy jolly attitude towards life). I thoroughly enjoyed the movie’s first half (don’t ask me about the second half). It brings back memories of an old friend who told me that she can’t love a person because he couldn’t solve aptitude questions as fast as she could and she can’t even think of settling with a man inferior to her in academics. When will these women break the glass ceiling???

And thus the long wait is coming to an end. Tomorrow is the day all have been waiting eagerly. In less than 24 hours I will be on my way to JP Nagar where my CAT examination centre is. For the information of all my friends preparations are in full swing, I have almost completed reading Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Picture of Dorian Grey’. I am also reading Thomas Friedman’s new book ‘Hot, Flat and crowded’. As for DI, Quant and VA are concerned, I have lost hope. There are two types of people who can go to an exam hall with a calm mind, the ones who have studied everything and the ones who have studied nothing. No prize for guessing in which category I belong to.
Next week I may be going to thirupathi. It has been a long time since I have been there. On November 23rd there is IIFT entrance. After that I will most probably be leaving to Trivandrum. Before leaving I must go for the book fest, then I should go and see horse racing in the turf club (though I cannot bet on any horse, considering my pecuniary state), and finally I want to go to the ISKON temple.
Life in Bangalore was great; I will never repent for coming here and preparing. I enjoyed my life here. Daily calls from Vishal, Lakshman and my sister made sure that I never felt lonely. Shobha kunjamma and Gopi chacha made sure that my life was meaningful and productive. Where can you have an uncle who says not to sit at home reading and watching TV but to go out and warm your blood or atleast see some beautiful women. I love him more than ever before. When I came here he pushed me to go to gym. I survived amidst Hulk Hogans and Schwarzeneggers for two months after which I succumbed to the winter and discontinued. I had great fun in appu’s place sipping beer and whisky. I will be missing both my cousins vinu and appu. Trivandrum will be boring without Ranjith. The only solace will be Gauri my sweet little niece, I can see her learn to walk and talk till April. Bangalore I will be missing you very much. This year I parted with too many people. All the wonderful people in in kunjatukkara (in cochin), Ranjith, all my college mates. Then I came to this mega city and hoped that leaving it won’t be as painful as leaving Cochin. But now I understand I loved Bangalore as well, with its speed, vibrancy, celebrations. I could see glimpses of happiness even in the eyes of street urchins. Those eyes told me to move on, to enjoy every moment of my life to make sure that I never repent the past. Adios Bangalore, thank you for teaching me to live and never to complain.

I have yet again proved that I have the wonderful gift of screwing things up when I am in love.
The stage was again the unknown territory of yahoo messenger (why the hell she is not usin gtalk). I saw her online on orkut and signed into messenger. Could see jus two people online, she was one. The other was another girl whom I hate more than anything else in the world.
Said hi, she gave back a coloured heyy.
I said ‘’long time ‘’
She said “ya pretty long time’’
I had a strong resolve to make sure that this conversation would not end up like the previous ones (me: hi, she: hi, me:bye, she: bye). So I asked her hows life, she said it is great full of fun, then she asked me the same. What should I have said, I am living the most wretched life (yeah I know it is an overstatement). So I said its kinda borin didn’t take up any offers (diplomatic way of saying not even a single son of a swine called me), preparing for CAT (like I am gonna be in IIMA next year).
Then came the most important part, something to prolong the conversation so that I could work out a chemistry between us. I thought for a while, then....... asked
Me: hey are u comin for the technopreneur, it is the annual seminar conducted by mec?
She: wat is it?
Me: Kiran bedi and shashi tharoor is comin, u know it is conducted by yi. Yi is actually the junior wing of CII- the conf of Indian industries. You must come (wtf wtf wtf....................................)
I felt so impotent, so lacking originality, so devoid of virility that I thought of committing suicide on that spot. I knew it is futile to talk to her anymore. If some girl had talked to me like that I would have definitely blocked her. She was so nice in atleast sayin she wud try to come. I signed out.
Later back in home I called Hari and told the story to him. He tried to console me. He went and looked at her new pictures and told she is not worth the pain. But I never fell for her beauty. She is the girl whom I want every girl to be, so full of energy, so devoid of pretension, such women are rare. They are endangered. She is my first love. I felt the strange sensation of love for the first time in my life when I saw her. I have never been in love after that. I know it is frivolous to hold on to your first love, especially when she is so unreachable and I have presented myself before her as nothing but a boring and least happening person of late.
The funniest thing about the whole exercise was that I felt so conscious of my inherent inability of engaging women in a conversation (let alone making her interested). I am cursed to be deprived of true love, more importantly I am cursed to watch it from gallery (sometimes as a referee, sometimes as a coach, sometimes a cheer leader,sometimes a mere spectator). Yet another feather on my crown of glory.....

Three marriages, yes you heard it right three marriages have been either fixed or consummated within a span of 5 months after we left our college. No one thought things could happen this fast. An atmosphere of gloom is in the air, which can be best captured in the words of my dear friend Ranees who says ‘’njammalu mathram ingane aayi poyallo”. I want to share some of thoughts of my friends who have reacted very caustically to this political expedience, some of their pranks in this season of marriages
1. Lock the scraps ur being watched
In a clear case of intrusion into the private realm, an insomniac is doing constant surveillance in the scrap books of the newly betrothed. He is taking screen shots of spicy exchanges between the couple in waiting and sending them to gossip hungry lunatics across the country. A recent case of breach of privacy has brought into the forefront even the honeymoon plans of these poor couples.
2 Prepare for the assault of devdas
Some of them are terribly disappointed at the apparent lack of solidarity to the elopement cause. They believe these women who have decided to marry in the conventional way have openly betrayed the cause of love and rebellion. Thus they have empowered other women to follow their suit and go with the wind. These flag bearers of rebellious romance have decided to protest to this lack of interest to the noble cause by deciding to ‘’eat till death’’ in the forthcoming marriages. So to the kind of attention of wedding planners keep enough food or else these lunatics may eat out the marriage.

3 On other developments, a sycophant who was reported to have assisted one of the women in the good old days of love and adventure is reportedly ill presumably as a shock to the latest developments and has been admitted in a hospital.

4 A induvidual in Bangalore have claimed that 2 of the women who are gonna be married had serious crush on him. As there are serious questions being raised at the sanity of this person the author doesn't want to divulge more information on the issue or take sides on the veracity of his statements.

PS: the author strongly denies any relation between his applying for a passport and the emigration of his classmate to US after marriage as attributed by rogue elements. The author believes it as an intentional attempt to malign his stature and strongly admonishes these gossip mongers. If they carry on with their insidious designs to denigrate the image of author, let me make it very clear that he will have no option but to leave the country to Mexico or Canada (etha mone amerikkede aduthu....)...

I am sure whoever seeing this topic would be shocked at my interest towards university exams (which I used to hate like everyone else). But let me tell you an interesting factor. This is the first time since the commencement of my education (from LKG) that I have not taken a descriptive exam for such a long period. The last university exam that I wrote was in May. So I kind of miss them. It is like after regularly watching Amrish Puri kill hero’s father, rape heroines and do all the villainous stuff and then one day we don’t see him in movies. We feel a strange hollowness, though we are in a way missing a villain. Looking back I have a lot of funny memories about my villain, the university exams. All my memoirs of university exams would be incomplete, if I don’t mention about Lakshman with whom I always used to fall on four legs like a cat while taking the exams. I remember all those sleepless nights on phone with Lakshman and Hari, with occasional intervention of Vishal. Vishal was the topper in our batch. When we would slowly start the cumbersome process of mugging up, Vishal would call us and promptly inform us that he has completed his second revision and will be starting the third one soon. But the worst punishment will be the on the morning of exam, when he would come with a set of questions that may probably come on exams. To our astonishment all these questions would be exactly the ones we skipped on the day before while running through the portions, making us all hysteric minutes before the exam.
Then we would see the smart ones of our class coming up with innovative techniques to deal with the exam. Some of them would sit till the wee hours of morning writing chits in compressed formats and extremely tiny hand writing. In the morning they would run to the Photostat shops and take enough copies to serve the burgeoning student community who had lost hope in the institution of examinations. Then they would arm their body with these chits to combat the university papers. I should confess that I never had the guts to try out this adventurous exercise (though ethically I had no issues with practise). But at the mean time it would be improper to say I never cheated just because I didn’t use chits (though it is the primary armoury). My saving grace would be sitting just behind me in the examination hall. Benoy my messiah would promptly study (or mug up) everything before coming for the exam and we were adept in passing information during the examination process, thus making sure that I pass every exam
We used to stock Photostat copies of various textbooks before the week of exam. First we would prepare a timetable to mug up all the information in these papers. Then towards the eve of exam we would settle for studying just the previous year’s question papers. Thus heaps and heaps of copies of unknown textbooks would fill up our homes providing healthy appetite for those who feed on them. There is an interesting story about a young man who used to study with us. He had a dream like Ambani to create a lot of wealth from public money. He made a simple plan. Photostat price was 50ps per copy near our college. He collected bulk orders from students wanting copies and took them for 30ps a copy from a distant place. Thus he made 20ps per copy. The demand for Photostat copies was so very high that sometimes he made around Rs 1000 in one go. There was nothing new or wrong in this practise (he actually did what all businessmen do, though in a smaller scale). But what followed was beyond his wildest dreams.......
Everyone in the class got a mail from a person named james bond, the following was the contents of the mail…..

hi all
this is a story of how number magic worked in our own class e6a. We started our new semester s6 by payment of Rs 17/- for the communication lab photostat. The last page of the photostat indicates that there are 34 sides(not sheets) in the photostat sheet. So 50paise per sheet gives you a round figure of 17Rs. Generally this is the amount collected in zam zam, manus etc. but when taken as a bulk a small minute difference may have been wavered which is not of our concern. The photostat was not taken in and around college but was taken in cusat. There a page is supposed to cost 30paise(or lesser for bulk i dont know). The knowledge i have is its 30 paise. So a net profit of 20paise/page is obtained. 20paise is a meagre amount, what shall we do with it. We dont even find those coins today. Here the number magic starts. for 34 pages with 20paise/page the net profit from a person is 34*20 = 680 paise or 6.8Rs. Leave the .8 for petrol to cusat. Remaining 6Rs from you. That is not a big amount its a small one i do agre. but this 6.8 is from a person. So when it is collected from 45 students the net profit comes upto (45*6.8 = 306Rs). An amount of Rs306/- (i guezz airtel users 1 month recharge amount) easily unnoticed. This is the MAGIC OF NUMBERS. So if you want to earn money you have the easiest way in front of you. Just take the photostat for the whole class and you have it write away.

And by the way my introduction. I am not a successor of pha pullae or supersuspense... If you ask for my name
i am bond, JAMES BOND

Our poor entrepreneur was completely taken aback by the latest development. He cursed those who send the mail and swore that he will never do anything for the class thereafter. While I knew clearly who was or infact were behind the mischief. One of the co-conspirator just forwarded the mail (as he always does with other information) and had no other role in the plot. The mail and the idea were actually concocted by another person. But the noble venture of helping people to take the Photostat ended there. The main culprit behind this premature demise is suspected to be behind the failure of so many flourishing businesses inside the class including one of mine wherein I helped womenfolk to reach their hostels (a clear act of chivalry. If I had done this in England, I would have been conferred with knighthood) safely. The villain in my case promptly informed all the boy friends of these girls who threatened to burn my bike if I continued with my venture forcing me to close the shop….

Never do something without weighing the consequences of it. I have innumerable experiences which have landed me in trouble because I didn’t think of the consequences, but still I haven’t learned. So this is the recent example of me landing in trouble for being utterly foolish in not foreseeing the trouble that could have followed. After writing about 21 blogs I told my sister to check my blog. My sister is a unique character, she is 9 years elder than me and sometimes behaves as if she is my mother. But that’s kind of ok with me, because she is the one person in my life whom I am truly inspired by. Whenever I am completely screwed up I think of her and then console myself thinking my sister succeeded in life after being in an even pathetic situation, why should I be afraid then? So coming back to story, I expected her to read and possibly comment on the blog. Instead she sends me a 4 page email, saying I am out of my mind and have gone completely pessimistic. For the record reaffirm to the fact I am an optimist and still have a lot of hope about life, but all I wanted to convey through my blog was once upon a time there lived a person named Ayyappadas who hit the rock bottom of his life at the age of 22. I never said I would remain at bottom and think of digging deep for gold. I still believe this is a bad patch in my life which would pass like all other patches and things would be normal again. I have been through similar periods in my life and have come out of it unscathed (if not victorious). But my sister thought I was depressed and had lost hope. If she had thought and sat quietly it would have been ok, but she took some print outs of my blog and took it home to show my parents. Next scene was something similar to a war movie, where, mother and sometimes father calls son in war front and tells him not to be afraid and give lectures on how to be positive and confident(as if I was fighting for life, I was actually sleeping). I believe everyone including me who asks for advice and says he/she has lost hope does that to get attention from people. These people feels some kind of insecurity when they have encountered failure and thinks that the world would disown him and forget, so he creates an aura of panic and vulnerability so that people would crowd around to console. This consolation is not a relief but an assurance that these people are there when I am in real trouble. I am unequivocally making it clear that I am not sad. I am happy, I am having fun. I am enjoying Bangalore, I am learning new things. If I was in a job I would have never thought about what I was lacking. I would have never known who my real friends were. I would have never in my life been so insecure. Everything till date in my life has been given on a silver plate. Not even once in my life did my parents put me in pressure. My father wanted me to be a doctor, but he didn’t complain when I took engineering. I was enjoying life and am enjoying it now as well. I am reading everything that I hoped to master one day. It’s only my conscience that questions me for my actions. And I think I know how to make my conscience happy.

Today morning at 6.21 IST India’s lunar mission launched off from Sriharikota. In a fortnight’s time it will reach an orbit of 100km from moon and starts sending pictures from there. An Indian flag will also be placed on lunar surface. It would be a moment of glory for the 1 billion people in our country. In today’s morning news every politician and general public were showering praises on Indian space scientists who provided us with this grand spectacle. I was laughing at these hypocrites who only recently were mocking the space scientists and questioning the very significance of Indian space programme.
I am proud of being the son of a person who worked for 35 years in ISRO. A person who has seen all the vicissitudes of the now raved Indian space programme. We should understand when we hear ‘’you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to understand it’’ that rocket science is one of the most complex professions in the world. I have a dim picture of our journey to trichur where my father was mocked by our relatives for the failure of missions he was part of during the late 80’s and early 90’s. I am amazed now to recollect how stoically he used to take those deprecatory and sometimes extremely insulting comments, quite unlike me. Some used to ask how the mission to sea (rather than space) is progressing (sarcastically indicating the fall of rockets to sea after the failure). Some of these people where highly enraged for spending the exchequer’s money on such futile exercises. Now I see these people talk using mobile phones and see saas bahu serials on satellite television, the same people who questioned the need for space programme in a poor country like ours. People who appreciate and applause Indian space programme have no right to do so if they have atleast once mocked these hapless scientists who just saw their years of toil go down in the sea. My father and his friends used to work sometimes till 4am in the morning during the final preparation for the launch. It would have been heartbreaking for them to see their experiments failing after such hard work. And then what we as a nation did rather than console them at those moments were to mock them, to insult them and worst of all to suspect them. I can’t wait to see the headlines in the leading daily (the most circulated yellow daily in India) in Malayalam praising Indian scientists for their great achievement. The insidious designs of this newspaper to place their well wishers at the top and at thus create more profit is well known. The newspaper invented the infamous isro spy case intending to expand their circulation by giving a bond movie like pot-boiler involving scientists, honey traps and spies from Pakistan to the general public who were already suspecting space scientists for their apparent failure to ‘deliver’. The case went on for years and finally Supreme Court declared all the scientists accused of espionage innocent and let them off with compensation. The case which saw the resignation of then Chief minister of Kerala( from which he never recovered) was actually concocted by a group of politicians to serve their vested interests. But in the process they nearly destroyed the space programme of this country. Some activists who had opposed the setting up of space station can still be seen in the front of protest marches against atomic power stations and dams (which Nehru had described the temples of modern India). The Indian scientific community had the courage to overcome these challenges which included a lot of import prohibitions from western countries (which didn’t want India to progress) and make every Indian proud before the world.
Today is my father’s birthday. He contributed the prime of his life for the country, in ensuring it to develop as a pioneer in space science. Let God give him good health and more years to see more and more successful launches. Happy birthday achaaa........
October 22nd

I don’t know why I am writing like this every day. I am depressed, lonely and extremely pathetic. To my friends it may seem a cheap PR exercise to draw viewers. They are not to be blamed because I sound very happy when I talk to them. Yes I am very happy when I talk to them. But after that, before that it is like I am treading an uninhabited desert. I am so very alone in this world, I am miserable and have completely lost track. Count down for CAT has begun. Most of the people who are seriously preparing are anxious and excited about the exam. I on the other hand am getting old day by day. It’s like I am 60 and is preparing to retire (not die). Makes me reminisce to the name of the title which my friend gave to his story (it was intended to mock a girl who turned him down which later became a habit for him) - ‘Menopause at 15’.In my case it might be ‘Decrepitude at 22’. Why am I such a lazy creep who doesn’t have any drive towards life? Why do I sleep 8 hours a day, when even my 64 year old father sleeps for just 5 hours? I dream of great things I want to do every day and then wakes up to see it’s just 6 O clock in the morning and decides to sleep for another hour. Life has stopped in such a place where I don’t really know where it is going to go. Uncertainty is seen everywhere. It’s funny that when I was going to join an IT company, its shares started dipping (to the extent that the company that used to call students in august just after graduation has asked me join on April 13th next year),then I decided to prepare for CAT and suddenly investment banks started to collapse. It’s like bad luck is following me. It would have been better for the world if I became a doctor (on which all the diseases would have suddenly vanished from the face of the earth) or a lawyer (then the world would be freed of all litigations and crimes and all the people would live harmoniously thereafter). It’s like an inverse Midas touch; whatever I touch suddenly turn itself into pure shit.
All I can wish for now is some miracle, there is no cost attached to a wish and you don’t need to pay God for delivering one. So all I want to pray is give me something however small it is that would reinstate hope in me to move on, to be young again, to enjoy the beautiful world (with its bustling traffic, unattended potholes, crazy drivers, foul smelling mendicants to name a few which I used to enjoy). Make me the old person whom I loved, whom I was proud of, who was happy. Put me back in the well where I can croak as before pretending that is the real world. I can’t stand this world, this real world, I am sick of it.
October 21st

I have been persuaded for long to write about my romantic conquests. But unfortunately it is next to asking Hitler to write a memoir on world war 2 or Napoleon been given an advance to write a book on Waterloo. My tryst with romance have been nothing but disastrous until now. Whenever I get attracted to a girl, the next thing I do is to find 10 things that would make the girl the most inappropriate choice. I attribute this strange behaviour to my ill concealed consternation of being turned down and the subsequent legacy with which I have to lead my entire life. Quite frankly I feel shameful to have never shown the guts to propose a girl. The worst criticism I have got till date is from a girl (whom I should confess, I was infatuated to and about which not surprisingly she never knew) who said it takes a lot of guts to propose and to be in love and unfortunately me being a coward don’t have. Frankly speaking the only girl I have yearned hard to be in love was someone in school. She was my darling from the age of 12 and still has a special place in my heart. The roadblock I faced then was the same old problem of supply demand disparity. There were so many worthy Jasons in quest of the Golden Fleece and only one fleece. She was a complete package. She was smart, beautiful, and most importantly devoid of the typical princess air with an excellent sense of humour. I remember looking at her for minutes (can’t have the luxury of hours of glancing in strictly scheduled school days) from the corner of the big football ground and contemplating the various odds in favour of me which would prompt her to come and propose me. As days went on this option seemed highly unlikely and I cursed my fate and went on with my wretched and loveless life while she changed to another division. In 11th standard she once again started haunting my dreams (though in a delectable way). This time I came very close to proposing her, mainly because our interaction quite unlike the early years dramatically improved and all her wooers where suddenly out of sight. I never even once gave an impression to my friends that I loved her and they were busy trying to set me up with another girl in her entourage whom I had never talked to in my life time. Then as it is said time and tide waits for none, school ended and I was contemplating the idea of proposing her while packing my bags to Cochin. But the worst was yet to come. Like all the stranded lovers I banked my hopes on orkut. I think it was in my second year in college that I started a conversation with her in orkut. She invited me to add her in yahoo messenger. I was till then accustomed only with gtalk and had no idea about yahoo messenger. Thanks to Hari whose computer I was using, helped me with inviting her in messenger. I had only 2 or 3 friends in messenger probably added when I created an account in yahoo. The conversation was much terse than I expected
Me: hi
She: hi
Me: so wats up how r u?
She : i am fine
Me : so hows college??
15 mins passes............
She : college is fine
Me : ok,are u busy??
Another 15 mins..............
She: ya da lot of friends online
Me: ok...
Another 10 mins.............
Me: ok then bye...
She : ok da bye tc.....
And thus ended the beautiful conversation I had so eagerly set up. That was the last time I used yahoo messenger.

october 20th

It is spending spree again. When I got out of the special class from st francis college in koramangala, there was two ways before me to reach home, the one through the outer ring road and the other through the city. Quite unlike the saying ‘’ on the woods the road split in to two and I took the one less tread’’, me as usual decided to take the route most travelled and pay a visit to forum mall. These days’ malls don’t fascinate me with its assortment of people (especially women) as it used to earlier. Though none of my friends may believe the truth is I have started losing interest in these women who appear is if they have recently come out of some fashion week. As Oscar Wilde says when she wears far too much rouge and not quite enough clothes, it is always a sign of desperation in a woman. I primarily go to Landmark and end up buying some book. Considering my impecunious state and the time left for CAT it is simply outrageous to even think of books other the ones authored by Arun Sharma. Comfortably forgetting that, I brought 5 books, all classics (thus comparatively cheaper) for Rs 576. It’s summarily cheap to highlight the cost of books. But for a parasite like me who feeds on my family income it is good to be made aware of the value of luxury I am able to have now and then. Sometimes I am appalled by the numbness I show towards the state I am in. I can think of only two occasions when I earned something in my entire life. My first employer was All India Radio when they paid me Rs 500 for a program I did for them during my school days. The second one was the tuition fee I used to get from teaching an 8th standard student back in aluva. The second occupation ended in a rather wry note, the regular fees the student used to give me (whom I should confess was not very bright), made me so responsible that I overworked on his body(instead of his aptitude) finding newer ways of torture with each passing day. Honestly speaking I used to enjoy those days when I was paid to torture (and thus purge the anger I catered for the faculty who were always frugal when it came to awarding internals). Finally the poor chap got liberty from the cruel scourge (that’s me!!) and I was deprived of the Rs 300 I used to get monthly (I still believe they should have continued to pay me for the greatest lesson I taught him of tolerance. He was atleast a good 5 inches taller than me then and still surprisingly spared me albeit all the punishments. This great lesson of tolerance and compassion towards weaker beings which I was instrumental in imparting him would take him to great heights). Last heard the guy I toiled so hard to groom has started earning (he is the son of a priest and have started assisting his father in performing poojas) before his master. I think that summarises the sorry state I am in. My father always indicates when I ask him for money that he started earning from the age of 19 while his father started earning even before that (implicitly meaning I am an insult to the great family of child prodigies). Sometimes a kind of envy creeps in when you see all your friends earning while you still uses your father’s debit card. So all I can do is strongly admonish God for his laxity in providing me with a job (and don’t cheat me again by saying that you heard an offer and not a job!!!! It’s irritating to have three offers and no job).

october 18th

Today I read a news in ‘’times’’ that an air hostess was sacked from jet airways for the reason that some pimples came up on her face and the authorities found it as the perfect excuse to lay her off at a time when aviation industry is facing huge operational costs( and eventual losses). I wonder whether having pimples is a problem for IT industry, because if it is then I am in deep trouble. My friend used to mock by saying my pimples are more highlighted than my face. When I came to Bangalore there was some relief to the pimple attack possibly due to change of climate. But now they are back. My Malayalam sir in school used to say pointing one of my pimple marks that this was the way through which my commonsense drained out. It is a curse which afflicts me whenever I am in real need of literally putting up a good face. Whenever there is a function in the family or in my college one or two new red ones would pop up from somewhere. I wonder from where they are coming. Some say they are passion pimples. But the interesting thing is jury is divided over concluding whose passion is it; whether it is mine or of the woman who are passionate towards me (though this option seems to be highly unlikely). There are various meanings attributed to pimples coming on different parts of our face. For example some people say when a pimple comes upon on the tip of our nose; it is due to excessive masturbation. I have consulted a lot of doctors to ward off this peril that is seriously impeding my amorous conquests (oh God if there were some beautiful women who were turned on by pimples; I would have turned them on like tube lights). After a dose of medicines (really expensive ones) the red army would retreat for a while giving me some peace, then one day they will come back and fill in my face making up for the days they were absent. These days I feel pimples have become a part of my life, like a drunken fellow passenger or an irritating neighbour, or worst a boss with a very bad temper to which we have to get used to. They come and go as they like, cultivating more and more fertile pastures on my face.
To conclude I heard that a person whose marriage got fixed recently (don’t start guessing it is not the one you are thinking) was counting the number of pimples on the face of his fiancée (reportedly after zooming the photograph). After hearing this I am worried about the girl whom I may marry one day. If she ever resorts to do the same with my photo and start counting my pimples it would take a decade to consummate our marriage. L
October 17th

I finished reading the ‘city of djinns’ by William Dalrymple. Dalrymple is one of my favourite authors. This is his third book I have been reading. The others being ‘’the last mughal’’ and “in Xanadu’’. He is an expert in the history of oriental Christianity and Islamic history. I was attracted to this beautiful period known as medieval era when I was in 7th standard. History was taught by AnilKumar Sir who had a very unconventional method of teaching. He would after his lecture make students give a presentation of what was taught without referring to textbook. It was the one year in which I scored 100% mark in history exams consistently (including the annual exam). Those who know me will understand why this was a profound aberration in my academic history. So coming back the association with such an erudite man made me to closely follow the slave, khilji, tuqlaq, lodhi, mughal periods. City of djinns is the history of Delhi told by Dalrymple during his stay in Delhi for one year. He takes us into mysterious world of sufis and naked sanyasis (living in ruined tombs and dargahs) who offers to heal various ailments and mental troubles. They say that the city has lot of djinns who could be taken into control by fasting and prayer. These djinns could then be used for various purposes. References on nizamuddin and Khwaja moinudeen chisti were really touching and engaging that I felt like visiting these places where qawwali singers create a trance among the devotees to take them to unattainable heights of spiritual fulfilment. Most of the the real Dilli wallahs lament at the decay of the dilli culture making way for the Punjabi culture (with its trademark arrogance and assertion). The real dilli culture whose torchbearers were the legendary mirza ghalib and zauq can still be found in the narrow alleys of old dilli.
Some interesting information I got from the book are listed
Shahjahan who built the greatest monument of love Taj Mahal had a very strong libido and had hundreds of concubines to satisfy it. He even had an affair with his daughter Jahanara Begum (the justification being that the emperor can eat the fruits of the tree he himself planted). He continued his licentious ways till his old age until his son overthrew him. The story is the moral to all those who consider gestures and symbolism are more important than love itself. The bottomline is though Shahjehan was able to charm the world with his beautiful monument of love; he was never a true lover.
Another revelation was of the beautiful relation certain Englishmen had with the natives. A lot of them were fascinated by both Hinduism and Islam. The tolerance and syncretism of that era should be model for all those who are readying themselves for war in the name of religion. Infact the next book that I am reading of Dalrymple, ‘’white moguls’’ deals with this subject. It is the story of an Englishman who fell in love with a muslim princess.
Sufism was banned in many of the theocratic states after the revival of islamic fundamentalism. It is now slowly decaying in the dargahs of Pakistan and India. Sufism is a power that can bring the reconciliation between the two nations, and the two great religions. Sufi saints are venerated in a lot of ordinary hindu households and it is an axiomatic truth that hindus and muslims share common needs and interests.
The book is highly objective and doesn’t include any ideology or views of the author. At some points we even believe the exorcisms and mysticisms possessed by the dervishes are true. An engaging experience with none of the strong academic tone which most of the research based books has. I would recommend everyone to read it.
October 15th

I had gone to ernakulam after 3 months. Being there brought back memories of my college days. Though I am not old enough to sit back and remember those sweet experiences in an easy chair, I always think of the days in mec. My first year was filled with experiences of ragging. I vividly remember my friend crying for being asked to masturbate on the middle of the road. I used to get the lighter tasks which included asking for gunja in the nearby shop though they never sold it. I met the most peculiar individuals in my college. These included one who would give me company in the bus stop till my bus came listening to my balderdash without any sign of unease, one who had lot of talktime and would talk for hours in telephone (it was then for the first time that I ever talked in phone for more than one hour, later it became routine), the crudest one of all who had a doubt whether he was sinning by watching adult movies (who later went on to become the wholesale distributor of adult movies with a big customer base including me), an ostensible homosexual who remains a mystery (he has an inclination towards showing his private parts to his friends. Once he took the photo of his friend’s genitals from a close angle so that it didn’t look what it actually was. He then showed it to all the women in my class asking them to identify it), an aspiring actor who wanted to study in film institute but ended up in the wrong place, the most materialistic person I have ever seen who introduced herself by offering me a burger in exchange of doing her filing for mechanical workshop and went on giving the same proposition to every boy in the class and last but not the least the one who shocked us all by lodging a police complaint against seniors for ragging and sexual abuse. All of them amused and entertained me (some of them continue to entertain), some of them are my best friends. MEC is one place I am sure I would always miss. It gave me the moments that few would get. Those movies we watched together, the giant wheel in aluva manappuram on which I nearly cried of fear, the trip to marayoor where I got heavily drunk and went on to shower abuses at a faculty who was on phone (God bless him), the detour on jog falls when we nearly lost our life, the placement cell, my travel to college pushing my bike which usually had an empty tank, those endless conference calls, I miss them all. Alas those days are over, the age of innocence and camaraderie has given way painful loneliness and killing routine. Life will never be so full and adventurous hereafter. To quote Mir Taqi Mir
What matters it , O breeze,
If now has come the spring
When I have lost them both
The garden and my nest ?
October 13th

I had gone to kerala(again!!!!!!!) for my cousin’s engagement. I went to ernakulam and met lakshman and hari. As usual went for a movie and had dinner together( even the main contributor to the whole event was same!!!). I couldn’t keep books for pooja this time. After that I went to Irinjalakuda my home town. Most of my relatives are settled there. My cousins were there and I had a good time with them. The only problem was conveyance, we had to use an old model tata sumo with no power steering, it was a really a tiring exercise especially because vinu (my cousin) could not drive because of a dislocated disc which makes me the only person able to drive. Those friends who know my driving would vouch for anything except accepting me being an expert driver. But at the end of the day we were all safe. The engagement was memorable as it was a get together after a long time. Like all other families there are lot of internal turbulences in my extended family as well. Whenever I am in the middle of these petty fights (mostly these fights are due to someone purposefully or not ignoring the courtesies and etiquette that mostly govern the longevity of relationships rather than love or mutual trust), I am also demanded to take sides. This time I got a bit emotional and said it is absolutely unbecoming of human beings not to forgive others for their mistakes. Unfortunately it is near to futile preaching to these people who are well past the age of adapting to the world. I don’t have any aversion towards older generation, but sometimes I feel irritated by their utter disregard for the advices of youth. It is not that we are always correct but why are we always considered wrong. After the experience of being on the wrong side, where I was trying to preach, I did a serious introspection on my attitude towards societal norms and courtesies. I was shocked to find that though I don’t expect any kind of goodwill gestures from my relatives, I expect a lot from my friends. This is contradictory especially because I am not practising what I preach. So I have taken a resolution that I shall try myself not be offended by the behaviour of my friends towards me. There is no purpose in expecting something from others and then loathing them when they don’t deliver.
Back in Bangalore things are not at all looking good; the expectation of getting a call from the companies in which I am placed is getting dimmer day by day. I had taken a train from ernakulam to jolarpet and then another from jolarpet to Bangalore. In the second train I was travelling in the general compartment after a long time. My father and now it seems his brother have a strange aversion towards sleeper compartment. My father always frowns when I take a sleeper ticket for a day travel ( which is almost 100% expensive than general ticket). He says as long as we are healthy we should travel in ordinary compartment. To some extent he is right, but my innate proclivity toward sedentary pursuits prompts me to take the more costly sleeper ticket. But this time I was caught in a dicey situation wherein I had to reach Bangalore before 12.30 and had to take a general ticket in a train from Kakinada. William Dalrymple in his award winning book ‘In Xanadu’ says that getting into a train in Turkey, you will feel like you are being punished for solitary confinement while getting into a train in India will make you feel you are entering an Indian village. It was a horror for me in the beginning especially because it took a while for me to get inside the already packed compartment (it is ironic that in our trains there are only 4 general compartments, in which the ordinary and poor people travel while, 10 to 15 are reserved compartments predominantly used by the upper middle class). But soon I started enjoying the rustic charm of these ordinary people. Most of them (including the women folk) had a tonsured head probably because they were coming from thirupathy. An infant whose head was clean shaven was sleeping in a makeshift cradle, a lot of people was sitting on the planks for luggage. Though it was a short journey which took only 3 hrs, it was a unique experience though I should confess I prayed to God never to put me in such a quandary again.
October 13th

I was planning to write about the two books which I am reading now, the biography of eminent and controversial lawyer Ram Jethmalani and The wounded civilization by Naipaul. But today I came across the blog by one of my friends which debate on a lighter subject. The issue is simple ‘’who is the better actor Sharukh Khan or Amir Khan’’. The jury is still out on whether who is the real No:1 in bollywood. But my friend unequivocally claims that it is Amir Khan who is the rightful heir to the numero uno position, reigned over by the Big B during the 80’s. But what provoked me was his mentioning a debate we had about the issue back in college. He claims that he won the debate( though I clearly remember him swearing that one day he will win the debate and prove me wrong as a swan song) by putting forth the vital point that Amir has done movies which has influenced the society for good while Shahrukh has never done those genre of movies. He goes on to elaborating that with the point he won the debate and instilled amir on the throne of king of bollywood. But I vividly remember annulling the point at one go. Let me once again bring in my logic which mainly contains two parts of which I believe the second point is my reply to all those self proclaimed critics who write off popular stars as the result of insanity in audience.
The first point is never does acting in a socially relevant movies resulting in popular uprising (or a mass movement) prove anything about the universal acceptance of the actor. Nor does it prove that the actor who played his role in a socially significant movie being superior compared to all his peers. If the theory that the actor who acted in maximum number of ‘’successful’’ socially significant movies (especially for a cause) to be considered as the top star, then MGR can be considered as the best actor in the country. Also AlPacino considered as the best actor ever by most movie buffs should be condemned for promoting crime in his magnum opus Godfather trilogy. The point is simple movies are not about reforming or bringing in social changes, they are about entertaining. Those who want to work for a cause can take up some other career like politics. The issue in our country is at most times entertainment industry tries to educate and reform the audience rather than entertain him and the politicians and social workers tries to entertain the populace rather than reform and educate them.
The second is about judgement. What is the best way to identify who is the number 1 in bollywood? Is it by checking the film review column of popular newspapers? I recently came across a review in a newspaper which gave a 3.5 rating (better than good, near to must watch) for a children’s movie which from promos itself indicate is a desi version of popular hollywood flick home alone( thus it is not at all ironic that the movie is produced by the entertainment division of the newspaper which published the review). So it is obvious that the critics are biased (these days they are called market experts). I believe the most successful and bankable actor in an industry is the No: 1 in that industry, the one who has delivered the maximum number of hits. Because he is the one who influences the lives and financial status of the workers in the industry than anyone else, the one who brought more wealth and meaning into their life. In an industry the best is the one who influences the lives of the workers in that industry. Narayana Murthy is not expected to make an impression on the life of a beggar to be considered the best in IT industry. Pele is not expected to do the maximum work than any other the footballer in the field of AIDS awareness to be considered the best footballer. So shahrukh being the actor who has delivered the maximum number of hits is the number 1 in bollywood, like Rajnikant who is the No:1 in tollywood. About the question of whether he is a better actor than amir, the question is too subjective like the question ‘’Is my home made dish more delicious than yours???”
October 4

I have decided to stop writing about the boring and unsuccessful life I am leading now. From now on I will write more about past, those sweet memories I hope to relive. Let me start with my school. I did my schooling from LKG to 4th standard in a girl’s high school. Never again did I get an opportunity after primary school to be among such a sea of beautiful women. It is always a pain to tolerate women when they are a minority. They believe boys give them attention and care because they are special. I have heard one of my colleagues telling she is the most beautiful woman in the class which has 5 girls. It is actually the kind of bragging which we can let off as women are always on the pursuit of fame (nothing else). So coming back to my old school, we had 40 girls and 17 boys in our class. In the age of innocence those women looked so beautiful and cute, and regret terribly for not capitalizing the situation like the protagonist in the movie chocolate.But the most profound memory is of the assemblies we used to have back then. I was the person who regularly led the pledge (India is my country.... and the controversial mention about brothers and sisters),I had a celebrity status of the smart kid who memorized the whole pledge and as usual was so carried away by the attention that I stopped focussing. After a particular point I started forgetting a word, sometimes a phrase and even a sentence. The last pledge was such a disaster that the head mistress dictated the whole pledge to me before the students, which I repeated followed by the crowd after which they were forced to find a replacement.
October 3

I hope things will be normal. The problem with me is I am not as strong as I believe I am. I am not an intellectual as I think myself to be. It is worse when you look at the mirror everyday and say unto yourself (though not loudly) what a wretched creature you are. I got away from eternal doom on a variety of occasions not due to some magic wand I possessed (some people call it talent or gift), but because I was lucky. I relate a lot to the protagonist in Dostoevsky’s ‘’notes from underground’’ who takes himself a bit too seriously but end up being big zero, frustrated with the whole world for his state( but in actuality he himself is responsible for what he is). The theory of existentialism (which says existence precedes essence) is vindicated by my life. I am solely responsible for the pathetic state I am in. There was virtually no rationality in the decisions I took through the years. By going with the stream I contradicted the very conviction upon which my image as a different (at times weird.....) chap was built. I took up drinking and smoking to be different among the lot. As years passed the unique and precious boy who tasted beer at the age of 16 got himself lost in a crowd of drunkards, envious of the attention and goodwill earned by teetotallers. These days the quest of novelty (mark me not pleasure) is prompting me to search for new avenues like dope (though I had tried some bang in goa) and sex. But what happens then, once the novelty transforms in to a routine and even worse mediocrity, I will find myself as someone who was ungrateful to his parents, unfaithful to friends. I don’t want to sin anymore. The word ‘’sin’’ has been controversial for a long time. Unwillingness to conform to societal norms has produced equal number of sinners and revolutionaries. Though being a revolutionary seems a very idealised and heroic option to take up, it requires bold people with a lot of guts and will power, which I know I lack for the time being. The thin line between a revolutionary and opportunist is often invisible. There is a character in Kushwant Singh’s ‘Train to Pakistan’ who comes to a village to do something impressive so as to create an impression among his party bosses in Delhi( he is one of the most comical portrait of a typical comrade). But when fate reckons him to act, he flinches. His doubts and cynicism is quite rational (including the one where he says, there is no place in history for a brave person who died without fulfilling his goal in an ostensibly ludicrous manner). But there is no role for rationality in the life of a true hero. I am confused and think too much about the consequences of my actions and decisions. But the funny part is with all the thinking and caution I have made mistakes, the ones which can never be corrected in a lifetime. I chose the wrong people as my friends (though I can still boast of a handful of good friends), lend my ears to wrong the tongues, invested my time on unyielding exercises ( I used to give patient hearing to a slut who reiterated on and on about her chastity, once as long as for 7 long hours), insulted good people, mocked the vulnerable and let off the strong fearing retaliation. All I want is some miracle that would impart some meaning to the years which I spoiled. It seems preposterous for a 22 year to mourn upon the years he lost rather than deciding to make it up for the years to come. But how wonderful it would have been if I had the power to make amends to the past, to apologize to all those I hurt. Oh lord forgive me for what I am, forgive me for all my air of invincibility.

October 2

I am writing a blog after a long time. What more to write than my boring life which is killing me slowly. I am not sure what I am doing with my life. I hadnt expected it to be so rude. I hoped to be busy soon after my studies. But now I am the least busy person in the world. I had started off CAT coaching well. But now I am loosing focus. Something really bad happened in my life recently. Unfortunately I cannot write about that. These days I think a lot about death( that idiot Dostoevski is doing that to me, never read his stories). Depression seems to be taking the better of me. I used to be a very happy person. I used to be very positive and confident, but all that seems to be some distant dream. I am unable to write more. This blog is simply for the purpose of making me believe that I am alive. I hope I would read this after some years and laugh at it, but I swear I wont be alive to read this again with the same mindset as now.

Arundhati Roy is again in the news for her advice to give ‘azadi’ to Kashmir. There is nothing wrong in giving a comment on the state of the nation (or subsequent prescription to soothe wound). But being opportunistic after giving an impression that you are an activist is highly condemnable. Her stand on protection of forest land and tribal rights should be highly appreciated. But unfortunately it is easy to profess but tough to practise. She made a house in forest land where non tribals are not allowed to make settlements. I could only laugh on her double standards when she refused to accept sahitya academy award instituted by govt of kerala while blissfully holding on to the british award( though not instituted by british govt) Man Booker purposely ignoring their imperialism in Iraq and Afghanistan( she only blames US for atrocities). I was amused when she criticised Amir Khan who took a brave( but foolish) stand on sardar sarovar issue. She had said celebrities associate themselves to public issues for cheap publicity and fails to help the cause. Did she make such a childish comment for the fear of losing the centre stage in the movement? I think she should focus on writing (strictly fiction) as many others had advised her. `

I respect Pinarayi Vijayan for his utter lack of interest in building an image using media(unlike his bête noire). But he is known for the pseudo socialist aura that he has developed around him. Here are a few of them

1. He opposed introduction of self financing colleges in private sector though his daughter studied in a private self financing college outside the state.

2. He opposes opening doors for foreign university to set up centres in India but sends his son to study MBA in England( paradise of capitalists).

3. He had opposed computerization introduced in India in 80’s. But these days he carries a laptop with him (with bullets along with it!!!!)

I wonder why these people cannot take a solid stand on serious issues and adhere to it or simply never take a stand on an issue which is not simple enough to have an unambiguous stand.

I saw a poster of the students union of CPM terming the recent murder of a teacher in a brawl related to the cluster meetings in schools as Guru Hatya. They went on to add that they will never forgive murderers of a teacher. I wonder whether they have forgiven the murderers of KT Jayakrishnan, a teacher who was murdered before the students while he was taking class. Oh sorry that was a revolutionary act against a fascist and the executers should be hailed right?

Kerala is like the mega serials which are popular here. Not viewing multiple episodes will in no way affect the understanding of the story. Life in here is so predictable(Its very notorious for being the nightmare of IT professionals working around the country. The most non vibrant city in the country is thankfully mine). Kerala is famous for its reluctance to join the new india bandwagon. When sprawling flyovers and highways are coming up all around the country we still have the worst roads. I must confess that i found it like defending the devil when I had an argument with my cousin ( who happen to cater a strong dislike towards this place) over the future prospects of my state. Why we couldn’t live up to the expectations of the country? We were expected to have a growth comparable to the west or the asian tigers after our remarkable achievements in health sector and primary education. I will try to put down my analysis for this pathetic performance of kerala.

1. Today morning my mother(who happen to be a teacher in a govt school) got a call from a parent . She asked whether there would be regular classes today. She said a student had committed suicide and thought classes would be cancelled as usual. I am not blaming any political party for conducting bandhs or hartals. It is the aspirations and wishes of the public that these outfits are fulfilling. Keralites hate to work in kerala( cliché statement for many keralites). I remember my father regularly checking the health of prime ministers and presidents in the hope of getting a holiday in case they die( though he was the hard working type when in service unlike me). These days general strikes have become more like onam and vishu with channels broadcasting the latest movies and liquor outlets running out of stock on the day before hartal. Recently we made the hartal protesting the Amarnath issue a grand success with as much zest as Kashmiris themselves. I remember days of strike against power tariff hike by the youth wing of Marxist party ( with ubiquitous vandalism of this outfit). Now it is the turn of congress party with surcharge increased by 50ps for every unit. What amuses me is the deafening silence of the youth wing that vigorously opposed previous hikes. The bottom line is why stall the production in the state if both parties know that hikes are inevitable.
2. There is a story about Lalu Prasad Yadav when he was the chief minister of Bihar. He was visited by an angry group of villagers who complained about the pathetic condition of roads in their villages. Lalu answered by saying that these roads are useless for ordinary peasants like ‘us’ as we use bullock carts! The same attitude reflects in the attitude of mallus in their attitude towards roads here with a small difference. What difference does it make to me if a I am going to gulf next year( Bangalore these days). Places like Trichur( which used to have prosperous industries) are fast becoming holiday homes for retired people. The most profitable business here is shockingly real estate(which results in lazy millionaires).
3. We fear foreign aid and investment as it is another form of masqueraded east india company with the horn of imperialism. I wonder if ever that is the case don’t we have the power and smartness to make these investors toe our line like what we did with smart city (I appreciate the CM for being smart in this case)

I can unequivocally say that if we change,all the political parties will change( though they don’t wish to). If we stop celebrating strikes, if we stop yearning for holidays, if we stand together against bad roads and poor universities our state will grow. If not we can blissfully read newspapers in Chayakadas( with our version of an issue) and migrate to gulf afterwards to do our traditional job of serving the world.

I am presently travelling in a train from aluva to Trivandrum. Just now I met a person which provoked me to write this. When I first saw him he was giving a lecture on Hindu spirituality to a passenger( whom I swear was not interested). I was deeply immersed in reading . After ernakulam when his sole listener left the ‘guru’ started his conversation with me. I listened to him and proactively conversed. It seemed he had read a lot of books and had sound knowledge in the Hindu thought. He said if you do this you will become good and if you do that you will have an enlightened life etc etc (but the uniqueness of Hinduism is the freedom of worship it gives to its followers including the rationalists). Anyway when he was about to leave he saw a big bag and accidentally uttered ‘’ it seems to be of a fat muslim, who knows what is inside that’’. What should I say about these people who speak about jeevatma and paramatma, those who follow the doctrine that the jeevatma that kindles our soul is the same in every being( human or not), no matter hindu or muslim and caters annoying prejudices about a particular community in reality. I have come across numerous people like these. Another being the father of my very good friend who is both educated and cultured but couldn’t help saying ‘’we all know these muslims who are nothing but frauds’’. Unfortunately his audience included two muslims( he didn know that) and had to apologize later. I have read about similar people in a book by Mr Nassim Nicholas Taleb- The Black Swan. It mocks those individuals who can easily solve a logical question in a competitive exam which goes like ‘’All terrorists are muslims but not all muslims are terrorists, is a muslim necessarily a terrorist?’’ correctly by saying a no. But the same person feels insecure when he sees a bearded man in an airport boarding the same flight he is about to take.

Sorry couldn’t write for 3 days. I am presently in cochin. I had gone to college to collect certificates. College has not changed. The one thing that is unique about our college is the eternal rivalry between two factions of staff. People in the nearby shops( especially in the ubiquitous ‘chayakadas’) say they have never seen such teachers fighting against each other and openly mocking their colleagues before the students. In fact everyone’s intentions are good but unfortunately they are not understanding that their PDH( public display of hatred) is unbecoming of an ideal Guru and equally entertaining for the students.

Finally, finally India won an individual gold medal in its 60 year long history. The nation is proud of Abhinav Bindra for his performance which saved us for the time being. I am even happier that Abhinav never looked carried away and handled flattery of the insane nation with utmost maturity. He is an example to all those sportsmen whose actions outside the field and melodrama on the field make more headline than their achievements( one cricketer who happen to be from my state was actually dancing with Mandira Bedi on a stage show recently, and his acting prowess was evaluated by none other than Mandira who has made such a profound impression for her performances in bollywood). Abhinav keep up the good work on and off the field.

I watched a Malayalam movie in theatre after a long time (of two months). As usual the mohanlal flick thoroughly disappointed me. The movie was ‘’Madampi’’ which is an undeserving hit over here. The film had nothing new about it and was a poor mixture of some old movies( like valsalyam and balettan). I don’t know why Mohanlal the most gifted ‘’actor’’( I hate to call him a star) is stooping himself into such disgusting depth. He is the most talented actor of the country and those directors who are castrating his stature should be cursed for their naivety in handling cinema. Its high time that Malayalam industry should subject itself to serious navel gazing and do meaningful cinema like the ones they produced consistently in 80’s

13^th august

So the flop show has begun. News about Indians finishing on 43^rd position, 32^nd position, failing to qualify has started coming. We are keeping up the tradition of being as low as we could in the medals tally. This time I expected some kind of solace from the shooting contingent representing India which looked promising. But the initial results shows that they have preferred to remain good Indians than great champions. The media now banks its hopes on two individuals who are sworn enemies to work together and bring home gold. The last time India came empty handed Olympics was on 1992 in Barcelona. God save our country from that kind of shame this time. I am least interested in supports and don’t know the rules of 90% percent of Olympic events. But somehow victory in these kinds of events makes us feel a sense of solidarity towards fellow Indians which is exactly that we are lacking as I had mentioned earlier.

9^th august

I don’t think I am going to publish yesterday’s blog. It is pretty depressing. The routine here is almost killing me. I don’t have anything to do here. If ever I go out money gets spend like anything. I haven’t learned how to spend money judiciously (if not frugally).I was seeing the Olympics opening ceremony. It was awesome. When is our country going to host an event like that? In the opening ceremony the Chinese were showcasing their inventions that helped mankind in their advancement (like the paper, compass, gunpowder). Do we have at least one invention to show the world other than the Arabic number system which includes zero (even that is contentious). All that we have been doing is serving the world for 400 years and before that simply creating a fantasy world around ourselves that reiterated to its lazy citizens that we are the best. We are still doing that. We always maintain that Indian culture is the best with its rich philosophical content and tradition (the same tradition that divided us into a zillion castes). This country is made upon a myth. This was a bargain that we got from the Britons. They wanted to dispose this lose making enterprise( though it was called the jewel of the crown) which we inherited, which was on the verge of collapse. But we keeping up the good hindu tradition were sterile even to start a civil war. The anomalies in our country is so profound that if it was in some other place a civil war would have definitely transpired to fragment this union(like the soviet union) into pieces. But a lot of people say it was our strength that made us stick together. I believe we are weak or impotent even to initiate a movement for integration of different souls( read the lack of political will even to force upon us a common language no matter what it is) or even the more comfortable disintegration. I am not a separatist, I love my country. But I feel our federal cum unitary system which they say is a synergetic combination of American and British system( but actually happen to be a glorified third sex) sucks. We have to be either unitary or federal. Paddling two boats in opposite directions wont help moving forward. The tamils don’t like the kannadigas, malayalis don’t like the tamils, they are all hated by the north Indians and still we say we are all bhais( like we used to say hindi chini bhai bhai and then fought a war). Every Indian faces this identity crisis, this inner war. Who am I a malayali or an Indian. A Hindu or a Nair( its a caste). These questions torment every person. Even the caste less Christianity or Islam were not spared by our tolerant culture. Today we see priests of different sects of Christianity fighting in the streets for the possession of churches( only profitable ones). The great ideology of communism which envisaged a classless society got maligned in India with highly hierarchical party structure and dormant but strong male chauvinism. The party until recently produced CM’s from only upper class people( though its major support base comprises the deprived or the used to be deprived section) with Mr Achutanandan being the only exception( because all the upper caste big brothers expired). It is interesting that Kerala with a very healthy sex ratio(1076 women for 1000 men) have not seen a single women mass leader. Every woman who may have become an imposing entity in the political ground was tactically uprooted by the highly chauvinistic party structures. This class war even in entities which work for classless society is the contribution of our glorified culture. There is no room for collaboration and team work (with the possible exception of army which remains secular and united but not necessarily compassionate due its redundant british culture) in our country. We can only remain hostile and indifferent towards our country men.

So coming back to Olympics, the Chinese will go on showcasing their might on the world stage. They will go on breaching our borders. We will sit here blissfully ignorant watching the Olympics On TV and praying for a bronze( that is another big story) while the world will move on while we will remain the epitome of stinking obsequiousness.

8^th August

Another uneventful day passed. I don’t know why I am craving for novelty on every day of my life. Maybe it is because I get bored easily. Have started reading a new novel by Frederick Forsyth( The day of Jackal). Everyone down here says I should I have read it earlier. It seems to be a masterpiece. Life was so different when I was in college. Every minute used to pass quickly. I had so many people to talk to. I love Cochin, as it gave me great friends and very new experiences. I fondly remember all those idiotic movies I used to watch with my friends. On a lot of occasions I used to drive back home on my bike and it would start raining. It may sound ordinary for sane a person. But I am a dreamer and I relish these small instances of joy which I terribly miss these days. I am in deep quandary now. During the last 2 months I got letters from my recruiters saying that I would be able to join only around April next year, exactly one year after my course completion. I cannot blame them because I know how pathetic situation is. I recently heard IT companies in Bangalore is facing severe power shortage and are finding it extremely difficult to function. Adding to that there is acute shortage of diesel which powers the generators during power cuts. An IT professional whom I met last week told me that offices are like ghost houses these days with most of the lights put off during night. I don’t know what the fate of the proposed smart city in Cochin would be because Kerala already faces severe power shortage. My question is why this is happening to me? Why the sky is falling when I was ready to fly???

- August 6^th

The play was touching and the performances were excellent. The story was a bit cliché. It dealt with the same old subject of unexpressed love. May be I couldn’t figure out the other nuances in the play. But me (who has suffered a lot from unexpressed love) and my friend (who has suffered a lot from highly expressive love) thoroughly enjoyed it. I am not going into the details of the story as i would like everyone reading this blog to watch it with all the freshness. I had thought of writing about love( especially how much it matters to me) in this blog, but I don’t have much time today. What else..... I went for CAT coaching as usual to IMS( I am having it only on Tuesdays and Fridays). The office got shifted and I was late for the class. Finished reading a Sidney Sheldon novel ( The sky is falling). It was superb as usual. I got a copy of the magazine ‘WEEK’ today. As I am not in Kerala and here we don’t subscribe to Malayalam newspapers i was not getting the daily dose of thamashas provided by the politicians in my home state. I came across a hilarious comment made by our CM who happens to be an octogenarian buffoon. I think the comment was made during the heydays of congress left standoff on nuclear deal. Everyone from both sides was debating on the merits and demerits of the deal. In between that some journalists asked our CM why the CPM is not taking into account the support given to the deal by the Dr APJ Abdul Kalam. His answer was ‘’Abdul Kalam is (just) a scientist who sends rockets to the sky’’. This statement implicitly means his opinion of deal is not to be given much importance. I believe nobody told our CM was just a tailor and his comments are unimportant. I make it very clear that I have no disrespect towards tailors who do a fabulous job, but to classify the former President of this country( who also happens to be a recipient of the highest civilian honour Bharat Ratna) and one who was closely associated with the Pokhran Nuclear tests of 1998 as just a rocket scientist is simply unbecoming especially when it comes from a veteran politician( who is supposed to have a lot of wisdom). All I can say to our dear CM is that ‘grow up sir the world is watching and expects better from you’

- August 5^th

I have tried blogging many times earlier. But as all my friends know I am not a meticulous person who follows a routine. Now I feel like writing regularly as it would be a catharsis especially when nowdays i have a very few people to talk to( As a matter of fact once upon a time I commanded the interest of a large number of audience, but these days I am more of a humble listener). I envisage this blog to develop as a platform which discusses a wide array of issues from politics (my favourite), history, philosophy, relationships, success, career and many more. Today happens to be the 4^th of August, and all the readers ( if there are any...) may wonder why it got published so late. I am in Bangalore, far away from my home in Trivandrum. I want to make sure that I write at least 5 pages before I go back to Trivandrum after August 10^th. So what to begin with? Let me start with something pleasant and new.

Yesterday I had gone to watch a play in a theatre named Ranga Shankara in Bangalore. The idea of watching a play was mooted by my friend Nipun with whom i share a lot of interests. I am a complete novice as far as theatre is concerned. My cousin had warned me that you need to have multiple experience in watching plays to understand the nuances in acting. So I went there with my fingers crossed. As usual I was late( thankfully same with Nipun) and we did not get a ticket for the matinee. So we planned to come back for the evening show. We started our usual conversations about politics, history( with a never ending right left conflict) entrepreneurship and electronics( which happens to be our subject). As usual the conversation continued in the cheapest bar in the area(it is interesting that two big dreamers earnestly talk about creating a multi crore corporation and subsequently changing the future of our country in the most unlikely place. Did the Father of Nation tell that The Future of the Country lives in Bars???). We were back in the theatre at around 6 O clock and Nipun suspected I was a bit over drunk as always ( why my life is so mundane, so very insulated to change). Believe me the theatre complex was filled with so many vibrant women that we rarely find in my state. They smoked, they talked about sex and most importantly they never cared about what the world thought of them. I was out of my mind and suspected my ability to maintain a decorum inside the theatre. Then I saw Rajit Kapur the handsome actor(I hate to call men handsome but can’t help this time) who played the lead in the play. I liked him very much for his performance in ‘Agnisakshi’ a malayalam movie based on a popular novel. The name of the play was ‘Love Letters’. The play also featured Shehnaz Patel who played the female lead( as it turned out the play had only two actors). For those of you who don’t know Shehnaz Patel- she played the mother of Rani Mukherjee in the movie Black.

– August 4^th