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18 Trivial questions

I have not been tagged for quite a while now. Silverine has posed an open tag dare and I just happened to pick it up.. So here goes....

1.Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it.

Well, I suddenly realized that not having a scar was rather uncool when my cousin kid sister, visited us after a Harry Potter movie and exclaimed –“ Harry is a wizard because he has a scar”. The poor me, with no other avenue to become a genius, used the divider of Ma’s students to get myself a scar. People tell me I have gone from bad to worse. “J K Rowling, you are sure to get to your lawyer soon”

2.What does your phone look like?

Phone? What’s that? All I have is a gadget that has the latest MP3 songs, doubles up as a camera, uses quick office like a mini computer, acts as an alarm clock, but makes no calls….I wonder why…maybe it does not have a SIM card.

3.What is on the walls of your bed-room?

Hmm. I grew up in my bed cum study room over the past 14 years. So the walls are no longer recognizable. They have everything from Sachin Tendulkar pin ups, Trigonometric formulae, stains of Boost (9 years old and growing strong), and an examination time table containing the good old subjects that have been part of most curricula from the eras of Shah Jahan to Sonia Gandhi.

4.What is your current desktop picture?

Bah! How I wish I could choose my own pic. The Systems guys in the company have put up a desktop picture having text that reads as , “ You are looking at this in case your window is minimized which means you are not working!”

5.Do you believe in gay marriage?

I have been advised by my brand manager to be neutral in my response. So here goes – “ While the right of choice of an individual is to be respected, Societal norms out to be kept in mind as well”

6.What do you want more than anything right now?

Something!

7.What time were you born?

Though I am told that it was 8:17 p.m. on a cold winter night, I must admit I have no confirmed source of verification. But irrespective of the exact time, I know for one thing that my mom had a terrible time.

8.Are your parents still together?

The word “Still” needs to have a reference. I saw them together yesterday, and Dad’s away on a work related trip and am not sure of the situation post that.


9.Who was Last person who made you cry?

Well, boys are not supposed to cry. But the last time I shed tears (of joy) was when, I burnt the midnight oil for a straight 2 weeks and delivered a job of high quality and got the recognition from my boss as “ not a bad job”

10.What is your favourite perfume/cologne/ deo?

Cigar, The fragrance of the deo helps camouflage the real ones. :P

11.What kind of hair/eye color do you like in the opposite sex?

The last time I tried assessing my choice from among a wide variety available, I was almost jailed by the moral police..So there..

12.What are you listening to?

The sound of silence (most people are sound asleep, post lunch)

13.Do you get scared of the dark?

Nah! I’m just pertified!

14.Do you like pain killers?

Yes as long as they help you get rid of people who are a pain in the !@#

15.Are you too shy to ask someone out?

The last time someone asked me out was the Department HOD in Engineering course. And he wasn’t quite shy during the process. I am yet to arm myself with that confidence..

16.If you eat anything right now, what would it be?

PUDIN HARA!

As a matter of fact, I just returned after a heavy meal immediately followed by a colleague’s farewell, that comprised of veg puff, chocolate pastry, French fries, and ice cream, on the menu.

Why did you have to ask? *groan* *burp*

17.Who was the last person who made you mad?

LOL, no one can make a person mad when he already is one…:)

18.Who was the last person who made you smile?

The kids in the school bus that I saw from the window of my bus this morning, all cuddled up and cute, on their way to school….

Happy Long weekend, everyone....

100 Not out!

A big thank you to all of you who have endured my writing over the last year and a half. I have completed a century of blog posts and am grateful to all my readers.

Warm Regards,
Asmyaham.

A date with Sister Stella!

Last week, I embarked on the “Amazing Race”, traveling across the congested bylanes of Bengalooru (yes, we’ve re-christened ourselves, as part of increasing the rest of the world’s competency in pronouncing tongue twisters, and after you are done with Bengalooru, you can try Hubballi, Mangalooru, Vijaapura etc…), and battling against all odds to reach Indiranagar, which is diagonally opposite to the part of town where I stay. The journey equalled the duration that suffices to reach the royal city of Mysooru.

All this, because my new employer wanted “saboot” that I was medically competent to deliver benchmarked performance in my role. I arrived at my destination, half blackened by the soot and carbon that fed my otherwise healthy cells with their dose of equivalent nicotine fix. I am almost sure that if and when a carbon dating analysis is done on my body to check for the civilization that I belonged to, my cells are sure to throw up data pretty much off the mark, coz, the carbon content in me would be equal to that of those in the tyrannosaurus rex that once ruled the earth.

Nonetheless, I entered the diagonostic lab, only to find “would be” colleagues also present there for a similar ordeal. The nonchalant ward boy looked up to me and said: “X ray?”. I looked at him, puzzled. Now, how am I supposed to know that owing to the level of fraudulent practices, people are now using the photographs of the spine and femur as unique identifiers, instead of photo ID cards?.

I opened my wallet and showed him my driving license. He retorted, “ Saar, X Ray, X Ray!”. As I looked confused, another colleague of his came up and directed me to go to the X Ray room located in the basement of the building. The stairs that led the pathway to the dingy room were as fragile as Shankar Dayal Sharma’s knees and I was worried that the stairs might collapse under my weight.

The X Ray guy asked me to get half monty and motioned me to pump up my biceps at the count of three as he prepared to fire the trigger. It was almost as if I was modeling for a Pirelli calendar, all set to become the next pin up poster of Bollywood (coz Italian cinema is yet to open its doors to Indian actors) .

Well, that was the end of round one. In Round two, I was ushered into a private room which was apparently the ECG hall. Sister Stella (well I guess that was her name since she was not wearing a name plate), exclaimed “Wellgum Wellgum. In cayse you hyave yenny myettal aabjects von yo, blease geep theym ivadey(here) on the coat(cot)”. I followed her instructions and she asked me to lie down on the adjacent cot.

She proceeded with fastening me with objects that best resembled the vacuum stickers that are stuck on the doors of refrigerators. She applied some solution which was pretty ticklish, and followed up by asking me to pull up my tee shirt, and then she chuckled “ Monney, pvull up the banniyan volso, ECG alle?”

I almost fell asleep, for it had been long since I had been pampered, and nothing better than an ECG room to soothe your nerves and help you relax. The serenity was broken when someone who I assume was the chief matron barged in and said, “ Sister, please be quick! We have a lot of patients waiting”. I thanked the nerse with "Onashamshagal" which was a week away, and walked out of the room.

The ECG was followed by a blood sample collection. In fact the nerse struggled to draw out blood from my fore arm despite securing the pressure pads around my upper arm and she exclaimed, “blooddey illey, monney”. This time I grinned, considering the fact that my new employer would not be able to suck my blood since I didn’t have any (the literal translation for “khoon choos na”)

The urine sample collection and routine color blindness test followed suit and the doc, after some elementary questions asked me to get along.

Thus, ended the half day ordeal, post which I walked out disoriented (they drew out almost a bottle of scant blood, you see), tired and hungry, and mused on an internet joke I had received earlier during the day.

“The employer conducts a medical examination and secures health insurance for the prospective employee as a moral obligation for all the diseases and stress he picks up as an occupational hazard”.

What joy! I say myself, even as I have begun lugging a 3 kg laptop that has already given me a sore right shoulder in 3 days……-:)

We, the people!!

Maa!” I called out to mom. “ Can I please borrow the stick you use for hanging clothes, for a day? ” “ You sure can, only if you step in to be my mobile ladder in its place” she quipped. Flag Hoisting at our household is more important a ceremony, than that of any religious festival, with no less pomp and grandeur, much as expected in a family of freedom fighters.

I have a captive audience for the ceremony, you see.. Maa’s students, the maid of the house, and some neighbors, assemble atop the terrace for the most important event specified above

Aazadi, Freedom, Independence… Three words that hold special meaning to those who swear by the same. And 60 just makes it more special. A living miracle, some call her, while others believe she’s ready to take on the world, and as Shobha De puts it, India at Menopause reflects her maturity on the world stage.

Well, irrespective of perceptions, we’ve definitely come a long way. The beauty of a democracy is that despite all the spokes that try stopping the wheel of progress, economics has the power of making its presence felt.

A telephone call at a fraction of a rupee, the technology revolution, the farmer at the ATM, education and its reach, yes these are indeed the positives to cheer about. Critics argue that these necessities that were once luxuries are not all pervasive, and blame it on the “system”, while washing their hands off the tasks at hand.

Today’s edition of The Times of India has a wonderful message on the cover page, on the power of two letters – D.O.

It very carefully outlines the typical cynic who lists a variety of hurdles that he considers roadblocks in the path of progress. The very next set of lines, outline the power of “D.O”, they describe the power to transform situations, the power to translate the potential of thoughts into the kinetics of action, the power to change, by not dwelling on the glories of the past or the uncertainties of the future, but, by dominating “TODAY”.

With each passing day unfolding the spectrum of opportunities that once were part of the exclusivity of the West, Brand India is all set to stamp its authority over the world. From near bankruptcy in the early nineties to a Foreign exchange reserve in excess of 217 Bn $ by 2007, we’ve really come a long way.

As it is clichéd, yet true, “India, once a land of snake charmers, is today a land of mouse movers”. It’s never been a better time than the present, to be an empowered young Indian.

At the stroke of this midnight hour, let’s contribute our bit in putting India on Center Stage…..Chak De…..India….

Happy Independence day, everyone…..As British Airways acknowledges, “ For India, the world is waiting!!”….

Bangalore - I.T.'s great to be here...

Well I have not blogged for quite some time, coz, I was asked to lie low by my CSO -Chief Security Officer(Gunda), saying that my life was being threatened by some disgruntled elements.

Gunda, my neighbor's dog was quite prompt in his barks,and though my neighbor is fed up of them, he does not have a choice.

Finally, here I am, disclosing my co-ordinates that I'm alive and kicking in the Silicon valley of India.. Well, it's actually strange, many of my ex-colleagues (I think you got the hint, yes, I am transitioning jobs) who have been based out of Bangalore used to regularly ask me about cool places to hang out at, and I would give the sheepish grin and say, "Oh, maybe you should try Veena Stores on Malleshwaram 15th Cross. Well that's where I went to when I studied in class X". And, then those colleagues would scorn at me with a look that best described Jhonny Lever's constipated one in KNPH.Actually, born in Bangalore, being in IT,and not working in bangalore? sounds weird ain't it?

Well, that also explains why I was looking around through the wide windowed Volvo bus, as wide eyed as a monkey in Mysore zoo, when I was witness to the various IT companies, their sprawling lawns, the big brands, even as the conductor rattled off the names of the companies with as much ease as Anil Kumble's Trent Bridge test century.

I kind of enjoyed being stuck in the Bangalore traffic. As they say, you are not a true Bangalorean unless you crib around about its traffic.

These Volvo buses run by the city transport corporation called BMTC(Bittre Maatra Tirugi Sikkolla - "You won't get (the buses) again if you let them go") are cool. With air conditioning, television streaming and FM channels in the background, the plush seating coupled with cell phone charging points that don't work,give the picture of modernity, flavored with the "Swalpa Adjust maadi" attitude. Like a foreign tourist who gets his feel of the city, I was getting a first hand running commentary from the co-passenger seated next to me.

I needed to get off at a stop that I had never alighted at before and hence asked him if he could let me know when it arrived. He acknowledged, and asked me, "Yaava Ooru?" (which city?). Not wanting to expose my ignorance of the city despite belonging to it, I replied, "Mysooru". With an exclamation that approved of my small town status, he started explaining to me, how Bangalore had changed, how IT companies had transformed the landscape sending prices sky high and of course he looked at a company and muttered to me.."Look this is where a friend of mine who earns a six figure salary works...".

I meekly nodded my head as my bus stop approached..The conductor shouted into the microphone and I passed by a live traffic feed visible on the driver's monitor.." Bangalore, I smiled to myself - I.T. 's great to be here...."

Images below - Inside the local volvo bus, and an innovative road safety sculpture - view taken when stuck in traffic on the dairy circle flyover....