Getting up on time

'Time' is a cold and unforgiving taskmaster. It gives us that dreary chore of routine and lashes its twin whips of day and night with unfailing exactitude. Everyday the alarm goes off in the morning. The tone of it has become so familiar to me that just the beginning of the beep makes me curse and mutter involuntarily. Snooze. I recede into that dreamy borderline of sleepy bliss when the alarm sounds again. Snooze. Before I can stop my muttering this time and step into the dream world, my mom reminds me of the time and urges me not to be late. At least today, she says. So I get up, get ready and start off.

For the next half an hour the entire world appears to me cruel and heartless. All of it created by the cruelest of the lot - time. Can't it wait for five minutes? That's all I ask. 5 minutes of extra sleep. And then another 10 minutes. That is all. Extra minutes of sleep, with the number of minutes strictly in an arithmetic progression with a common difference of 5. What is it with time? It runs fast when we want it to stay and barely moves when we want it to fly by. It moves at the speed of light years per second when I watch good movies but treads at millimetres per millennium when my grandmother lectures me. I'll have my revenge on you some day or the other, time. I'll make you suffer like you make me. All in short time. Until then, I'm just biding my time for the right time to tackle your tricks, you time!

Reviewing the parcel!

Things have changed since I began blogging. A few things that I blogged about have also changed. Let's see.

I named the blog inspired by Vitae Lampada and The History Boys and they still inspire me very well. So that hasn't changed.

There is a post on - On having an ipod. I still stand by it, only I have replaced that ipod with another one. There was also an interim period where I had no ipod. It was miserable, especialy while driving. So I should probably follow up the post with a sequel - On not having an ipod. May be after a while I'll come up with a final version titled I'm apple Ipod, like Sly came up with Rocky Balboa after just 5 previous parts. Or was it 6?

I then wrote a boy to man series, which hangs mid-way because I've got two versions of part three in the drafts, both of which are not very interesting. I've been telling myself that if Coppola takes 27 years to come up with Godfather 3, I can take a bit more time to do my part three.

Then was a post on a first hand football watching experience. It was awesome, only now it reminds me of how little I play at all, pissing my pleasures away like the good adult! But that has started changing from the previous weekend. Working towards becoming a better time tactician! Strategy, guys. That's all it takes. Strategy! More on this later.

Then there is this post - The dream of building a bathroom. Well, it remains a dream. Only other dreams of building a farmhouse, starting a business, becoming a bureaucrat, directing a film etc, have piled on top of this dream. I guess my dream of the bathroom must be stronger than the concrete bathroom itself, to withstand the weight of other dreams and all that.

Then I see a post on how galeej Chennai was and is. It remains exactly so. People spitting the exact same way and autokars directing their curses to commuters' eardrums with pinpoint precision.

A post on my notorious bike - Boxer Eight-nine-nine-four,
I don't drive it anymore,
I've got a new ABS Apache,
Which has a slick press-start-key!

And then on pani puri - I love it still, so no change there, may be a slightly increased degree of obsession, that's all.

A rant, a review of a book, a good hike remembered and one on kaiyendhi bhavan with an interview. I've skipped a few posts, to cut a long story short and not to fatigue the reader. Not a lot of change in the views of these posts, however.

So some things, even those dear to me - like the ipod and bike (as much as I hate to admit it, it seems I have a soft corner for the old bike!)- have come to pass, while few others remain unaltered.

What did I learn doing this review? - Just that I have got plenty of stuff in the drafts that haven't been posted. I started the blog because I love writing but I haven't posted many of my thoughts because either I didn't think they were good enough or I thought I'd make them better, with one more polish, but was too lazy to get around to it.

One blogging trick I found: If you've got a good idea but can't form an interesting narrative, resort to bullet points. Five reasons for doing this, three ways to fool around and such stuff. Usually works.

One hard fact I've come to terms with: Doggedness is essential in a writer. Lack of it is the main reason I haven't come up with more posts. You can't be spontaneous all the time. And most times, planning and perseverance eat spontaneity for breakfast and dinner.

One universal truth I stumbled upon: A good writer is a good writer, first, foremost. The subject of his work, the use of metaphors, the scene, are all secondary. If you see a bowl of spaghetti - unevenly boiled, salt and pepper sprinkled at will and sauce poured without pattern - and if you've got an eye for it, you'll manage to pick up that one strand of spaghetti that is boiled, saucy and has a fair amount of salt and pepper. And a good writer does exactly that. Though it is never perfect, it is almost always edible and often enjoyable.

Mi'lord, let's fine-dine in our Kaiyendhi bhavan!

Kaiyendhi bhavan (henceorth kd bhavan) is the king of all manners of dining. Here are five reasons why they are the absolute best and the rest are all inferior to it.

1. The menu: The most important aspect of any restaurant. The menu of my favourite kd bhavan is a classic - Idly, molagai bajji, all egg accompaniments (omelet, half-boil and the sort). Bull's eye. You keep ordering and they keep serving, hot, fresh and without delay.

2. The best place for the indecisive: Leave dining alone, a fellow can't even get a cup of coffee easily these days. Picture this in a coffee shop:
'What would you have sir?'
'Coffee, please.'
'Yes but hot, cold, espresso, capuccino, mocha, latte??'
'Cold coffee. Adikra veyilku, cold is better, don't you think? :)'
'Tall, medium venti, small grande?'
'The medium thing, I guess. Am not much of an eater... or a drinker, I suppose.'
'Decaf, normal, blah-bloo-hooo'
'Sorry?'
'Never mind. Would you like some cream or marshmallows on top??'
'Yes, just cream, I think :)'
'Would you like to take this with the offer of the day or our special combo?'
'Well, it's all a bit complex for me!' after going through the available offers. 'I'll just have my coffee, I think. As long as you guys don't dip it in yogurt or flavour it with onions. Haha.
The girl in the counter keeps a straight face.
''Tis a puzzling world, it is.'

And at each step you have to decide, and decide, and decide. And did I mention decide? God, they give us a prompt headache for the coffee to work on.

None of this in our kd bhavan. You don't have to choose your sauces from some numismatic puzzle - chipotle southwest, honey mustard, sweet chilli?? sweet chilli in Chennai??!!! Will you just stop already! In kd bhavan you get unlimited servings of kaara chutney (hot chilli), coconut chutney and sambar.

A real manager in action - Watch and learn: Running a kd bhavan is no easy task. With just one helper, you have to keep making idlies and bajjis, podufy innumerable omelettes (with very finely chopped onion, mind it!), get the plates cleared up and keep track of the cash register. And they remember orders with such elan. Kd bhavans have just two work environments. Pressure and high-pressure. And all you MBAs, come with your notepads ready, for this is your laboratory.

Feel good about the world: The kd bhavans never keep count of what you eat. They don't serve scantily and bill secretly. You eat how much ever you want and when you finish, tell the guy what you ate and he'll tell you how much you'll have to pay. I can guarantee that the most voracious eaters won't exceed Rs. 80. But the trust! The trust! He never doubts your account and I've never seen him cross checking it. Oh he's so busy working, it feels like collecting cash is a pain to him. He does it hurriedly and gets back to attending his stove and customers. When you witness such scenes combined with the enterprise of the guy and the healthy appetite of the customers, I bet it'll act as the perfect antidote to living in this often crazy world. Your tummy full and heart likewise, life will appear so much more pleasant.

Beat falling ill: There is but one remedy to prevent illness. Enjoy, enjoy your food and merrily, merrily live. Eat how many ever idlies, molagai bajjis and half boils in whichever order, and say ciao to illness. (Atleast the psychological effects will fight the lifestyle effects?)

Here is an interview I took of my favourite kd bhavan owner (his name is Thamaraiselvan). It's quite raw but I caught up with him not without difficulty, so you guys better watch it. :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6k8ZDvc5DuI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zxkd5Lhb9CA

Some pics of Thamaraiselvan's KD Bhavan

On enjoying Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice'

I have been wanting for sometime to write about the books I read and the films I see. But my own disposition, being that of a very negligent and dilatory blogger, was floating around flirting with various prospective topics. But I just finished reading Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice' and I feel such elation at the unision of Mr. Darcy and Ms. Bennet, that I can hardly contain myself from sharing how I feel. The involvement in the plot and the enjoyment of the content has been so much that appreciation of the writer comes as a much later wave of feeling, like a pleasant after-breeze to the immensely drenching first shower of monsoon.

The plot itself is woven with such skill, the characters etched with pleasing sensibility, the narration filled with an abundant supply of compelling wit, generous spraying of subtle humour, garnished with a lady-like charm in its execution and served in a characteristic platter of British restraint, which makes the reading of the novel exceedingly gratifying. This book is definitely to be tasted and savoured, swallowed and held up, chewed and enjoyed to its very essence, wholly digested and permanently cherished. For you won't be able to enjoy it once and not go back to it again and again for procuring further joy.

The book opens wonderfully, the introduction of characters is smooth and their interactions flow with a fluidity that deserves credit. Mr. Darcy and Ms. Bennet meet, move in and out of the story while it revolves around them, excite our minds and supply us with ample reasons for turning the pages of the book with eager anticipation. The etching of Mr. Collins and Lady Catherine is nothing short of excellent. The resigned ridicules Mr. Bennet bestows on his wife combined with his warm affection for Lizzy are wonderfully portrayed. His incredible sense of humour, evident as the book reaches its last few phases, had me in raptures. It earned me many an awkward glance, with everyone around serious with work or study and me laughing heartily at Mr. Bennet's statements often accompanied by a vigorous shaking of my head.

All the major characters blended into the plot so perfectly that I couldn't help but admire Jane Austen's sense and skill and was often left wondering on what prompted her to make the characters as they were and if there is any shade of her at all in any of her characters. Perhaps she resembled Miss Darcy? It'd indeed be terrific if I can just be invisible and watch Jane Austen going through her drafts, reading it to her friends and family, making modifications here and there and hear her speak in an interview of what she thinks would happen to Miss. Darcy or how good will the Bingleys' children be or how deceiving and wicked Wickham is!

The last 100 pages is just gem. It is stellar Jane Austen in her wonderful fluidity. A witty statement, a wonderfully humorous one, a funny lamentation and a romantic suspense tumbles one after another hardly giving the reader time to take in all the beauty at the first reading.

I just finished the book today and felt wonderfully happy. With a disposition that makes happiness spill forth into mirth and chatter, I couldn't help but talk about it. Even after sharing it with my close mates, I'd nevertheless have talked about the book and its author to every unlucky acquaintance who happens to pass before me for the next one week had it not been for the wonderful invention of a blog. Now that I have poured forth my joy in this cosmic blogger void, any fellow who glances upon it perchance or by intention can make all he can of it. If that fellow happens to have read Jane Austen, well, welcome to the 'honourable brotherhood of guys who've read awesome Austen'. If not, then perhaps this post'll tempt you to read Austen and join the brotherhood.

P.S: Though I'd like to think I was calm and composed while writing this entry, I know I'm very much hung over from reading Jane Austen. This post was written without consideration and published without correction, so make what you want of it and comment what you like! Hail spontaneity!

Some life lessons I learned walking along the great glen!

I went on a hike in Scotland along the Great Glen during the spring of 2010. It was a very memorable trip for a lot of reasons. I accompanied Dolly Sim, a veteran hiker, now serving as a naval officer in Singapore. While on the go, I couldn't figure out east or west but she was always great at finding a way out through the woods. I remember, we even wandered into a creepy place in the middle of the woods decorated with plastic dolls and threads hanging from trees and recorded a video just in case we don't make it out of there alive! So without further ado, I'd like very much to reminisce on that lovely experience and list out some things that I took back from the 6 day trip.

1. Lead a good life and play your fiddle with pride! - On the first day of our hike, we were having our dinner in a beautiful home-stay. It was just getting dark outside and from the door I could see Ben Nevis, the tallest peak in Britain. It stood majestic and undaunted, framed in the fading silver light. Just a couple of days earlier, I got all worked up to submit a couple of sheets of assignment on time. But at that moment, staring at that intimidating yet welcoming mountain, all those worries and shackles in which your mind is almost always caught up, seemed so irrelevant and silly. Life seemed so simple and easy. So if you're all worked up at something, just pause and check if it's worth it. Just lead a good life and keep it simple.

Lesson 1: Life is simple. Keep it that way.

2. Have a thick skin to enjoy life - The trees and mountains and farms and meadows were all so blissful and satisfied, it seemed to me. You bend a branch on your way, it gets back to where it was when you're gone. It doesn't chase you to get even. I know it cannot do that but it is also not worth it. You can't drill sense into the galactically stupid. Do your job well, help if possible and leave it at that. Interference often makes situations worse (The string of U.S secretaries of state would probably vouch for it).

Lesson 2: Don't waste your time trying to get even.

3. Know when to say nothing! - I often rambled on things and Dolly shared her experiences too. But at times during our walk, we just walked. Nobody said anything, it was just the rustling of the leaves and the rush of the water. These phases were so lovely. And Dolly just knew and kept it that way. She never spoilt these silent spells with 'hey the weather is good' or 'those trees are lovely'. She sensed perfectly when to say nothing.

Lesson 3: Silence at the right time is awesome. In the long scheme of things:
When the quality is less and talk seems like a lot of bore;
It is not that I like speech the less, but value silence the more.


4. The country charm - It was the first time I was venturing into the countryside for almost a week. The famed charm of nature and the merry, easy-going attitude of the people really got to me. I made a note to myself to live in a village in India for at least two years.

Lesson 3: Experienced the beauty of a laid-back country life.

5. That terrific gesture! - This was perhaps the defining moment of the hike for me. We were in the last phase of the walk and I'd lost my jerkin on the way. We were in high altitudes, it was moorland, the wind was cold and then it started drizzling. My fingers soon went numb and the rain was really consistent now. I looked at Dolly and asked 'Why aren't you wearing your jerkin?' She said 'Well, it wouldn't be good if I wear it and you just get wet. So I decided I'd give you company!'. Dear me! Was I touched! We walked a few paces in silence and then I mockingly said 'If you're bent on getting wet, then I'll use your jerkin'. She smiled back and we just walked in the rain, without a jerkin.

Lesson 5: When the moment comes, choose the right, large-hearted thing to do.

For a much better and less bullshitty account on the hike, visit Dolly's blog. She has a complete account of all her hikes (remember, I told you she's a veteran!).

Confused without, brewing within!

Note: This post is a reflection on the evolving society around me and the way I see it. The post is intensely drawn from my own everyday experiences - the things I see and hear, read on newspapers, gather from discussions with my friends and the like. Therefore, I guess I speak more for me than for my generation.

This generation may seem confused and all over the place but I definitely believe it is tremendously brewing within into that terrific stew that melts pragmatism and ideology in one boiling pot. Guys my age are forever getting ready, trying to grow old without growing boring; to gain information without hopefully, losing touch with morals; to grow in efficiency without compromising on a balanced life. But what they also have to do if they want to really contribute, is to bite the bullet - to take a leap of faith at some point and start facing things head on instead of hiding behind pseudo-intellectual discussions.

Taking that decision and owning up to it may make all the difference. I read in newspapers about women being molested and raped, about neglected tropical diseases, 1.4 billion people living in extreme poverty around the world, ugly corporates turning the world slowly into a dumping place of refuse and dirt. And I read about real social sector initiatives, I see a guy working ceaselessly from dawn to dusk in pursuit of his dreams and I see happy couples, young and old, enjoying the breeze in the beach with a content smile on their faces.

So what's it going to be? Is Mr. GenX going to be satisfied by educating his grandmother to send mails or donating clothes to the poor and being a good Joe? Or is he going to do his bit of activism and get involved in social issues, exercise his right to information and encourage public debate and initiate awareness on key issues?

I feel the problems the world is facing has compounded infinitely in the last few decades. But the world has also matured and bloomed in these decades. Just like a middle-aged man has more issues to deal with than an infant, so it is with the world. But just like him, the world too is now more matured and capable of dealing with those issues than it was a century earlier.

Over familiar through over use

The existing banality of it all is tiring. So there was this day out, when some of us went to watch a movie. And there was the familiar friends circle, a bunch of cool well-educated guys with that local stamp that makes their behaviour all so charming. I remember adoring these guys during my school days and some of my most memorable sporting days were with them. 9 hours a day of cricket during the summer, evening football games during high school, that 25 km cycle ride and a 3 hour soaking ritual in a swimming pool during weekends (yes, absolutely like buffaloes) and that glorious first day-first shows at the end of which we walked out like superheroes, cape and all.

So I met some of these guys after a long gap for a movie. Everyone was placed now and they came with their usual style, bella figuras with funky bikes, casual attitude and a walk like they own the place. We started our chatting and catching up and I realised that they still were the 'local machas' with that lovely stain of the streets of Madras on them. They were hooting and whistling and amusing people but to my surprise, there was an overdose of swearing. The gang was sans my usual close friends. If they'd come, it'd have been like that wonderful football game that Ayyampettai Arivudainambi Kaliyaperumal Chandran graces with his presence in Thillu Mullu (what with all of us having to lie to our bosses for getting off early to make it to the afternoon show).

But what started this way turned topsy-turvy in moments. The guys, I soon realised, were mouthing the same insults at each other and laughing for over-refrigerated and cold storage-d jokes. The laughter was indifferent and mirthless and was way too on-your-face. You say 'fuck' at the right moment once, it makes me smile. You say it 5 times, I shrug, you say it 10 times, it makes me feel uneasy, you keep saying it over and over, I just feel like walking away from your yammer and giving you the one-finger salute. And that's exactly how I felt amidst the group. Without my usual friends who jest at each other gracefully and stretch their imaginations miles apart to act out funny scenarios and creatively taunt the stronger guys in a way that makes the insulted, insulting and the spectators to laugh along and together, these guys were just foul-mouthing again and again putting on a loud exhibition of their shallowness and stupidity. And the situation slowly deteriorated from charming to boring to vulgar and to downright grotesque-ness. I was hanging around trying to conceal my frustration of having wasted a rare free afternoon and ruefully thinking of some blissful hours of sleep I could've caught up on. And then the movie started! Boy, was I relieved! And the movie, at least, turned out to be lovely. That was a real lifesaver. When we came out, the guys kept at it, relentless as they were, criticising the movie, the seats, the crowd. I edged away from the godforsaken group and got back home, deeply disillusioned. What a goddamn waste it is to be so living, as Sir Walter Scott puts it, to disappear into the vile dust whence they sprung; unwept, unhonoured and unsung!