Coca-cola, Wonder-bra...

come on ya lets enjoy

2007-07-22T03:49:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine has recently come over from france, so, i'm back in chandigarh trying to have a good time. Suddenly I realise that having fun without any restrictions, such as having your worried parents stay awake in worry, is actually no fun. Not having some spanner in the works while your friends are busy with other engagements is somewhat of a damper on your spirits...anyway, i'll try and have fun.

oh, and my viral is just fine, thank you.

You! you're the sick man!!!

2007-07-12T00:58:00.001-07:00

In my efforts to take care of my hypochondriac roommate, who is struggling with a bout of viral fever, I too have contracted the very same illness (comments regarding our "relationship" are unwelcome, TYVM.)

In addition to getting a viral infection, I also seem to have a pus sore Inside my throat, which makes my illness a potent combination of viral and bacterial infections. I was a rather toasty 102 Fahrenheit last evening, which was kept at bay by sitting under a cool shower, with my feet and head cooled with ice. I finally went to the doctor at about nine in the evening, who prescribed me a whole plethora of antibiotics to keep the infection(s) at bay.

In retrospect, all I can say is that this sort of thing was bound to happen, given that I did not fall sick at all during my Amrika stay. Not falling ill weakens you from within, and coming back to a land rife with all manner of illnesses is somewhat perilous.

I hope to back on my feet in a couple of days.

yes, i can still post!!!

2007-07-07T14:47:00.000-07:00

So, it's been a longish pause between posts, I know, but the good folks at Airtel are too stupid to understand a simple address change. To the deepest, darkest corner of hell with them.

Anyway, it's 0320 in the morning, it's a Sunday, and I have spent the past two days doing something or the other for my brother's impending trip, not that he seems to be satisfied. as I type, Jennifer lopez is attempting to entertain a stadia full of Portuguese in Lisbon, at the unveiling of the"new" seven wonders of the world, and even though this has nothing to do with me, I'm so bloody flabbergasted at the whole shebang. I never thought the seven wonders of the world got outdated in the first place.

what a sham. I don't care two hoots if the Taj wins.

Sumeet And Torea do Patiala

2007-06-19T02:31:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I have been a lazy bum over the past couple of weeks, not posting, not working, not updating...nothing! So, in order to jumpstart my floundering blog, I have put up some pictures of Sumeet and Torea's trip to the Ancestral town, to say goodbye. So, come one, come all, and enjoy the pics on Flickr here.

I'm also thinking....this whole blog needs a total revamp...the title and everything. I'm not in the US anymore, so I think the webpage should reflect that. keep on visiting for changes...

Yeah, yeah, will post soon!

2007-06-17T19:48:00.000-07:00

Are You Dead Yet?

2007-06-09T19:43:00.000-07:00

....Is the question the handful or so of my readers may be asking. No, sorry to disappoint, but i'm not as dead as some individuals would like me to be. I've just been keeping very busy lately.

First of all, was the onerous task of getting my finances in good shape, so that I could pay my college fees and get admission. this is easier said than done when the cheque with your money on it does not get encashed in time. Then you have to use your mother's ATM card (illegally) to get all the money out and stand in line at the good ol' SBI, to get a demand draft made.

The real kicker comes when you go to college and the admissions person can't find your file anywhere. You wait for a day, and then the file magically appears! This, you realise is because you came to the office way too close to lunchtime on the first day! Anyway, in ten minutes, all is well, and you are officially a student of IHM - Pusa.

So here I am, finally in Patiala, visiting Family and completing my courier services by distributing whatever my mom found suitable to distribute. after this is a few days (and nights) of enjoyment with friends in chandigarh. WooHoo!

Gatecrashing a wedding

2007-05-28T05:38:00.000-07:00

...Is not one of my favourite pastimes. A few days after my arrival in India (which I shall discuss in a subsequent post) My brother and his motley crew of photojournalists convinced me to tag along with them to the wedding of one of their kith. I happened to be lugging about my camera, so I took some pictures of my splendidly-dressed brother and his equally resplendent wife.

Also accompanying me were the proud parents of a certain Gurmehar Singh Romana, who were more than happy to be finally able to go out and show off their baby.

Click here to see the pictures!

Should I blog?

2007-05-26T23:41:00.000-07:00

Live from Newark!

2007-05-22T14:09:00.000-07:00

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, here I am, reporting to you, Live, On the spot from Liberty Newark International Airport, with the cosmopolitan skyline of New York obscured by the giant cranes loading containers off ships from the riverfront. Not the view I had hoped for....

Well, after all the deliberations regarding the excess baggage, I ended up with one very heavy, very cumbersome suitcase, and one which was just about under the maximum free baggage regulation. Fearing I'd have to pay through my nose to get the white elephant on board, I cautiosly approached the baggage counter, and explained my unique travel plan, that led me to buy two separate tickets for what could be accomplished with one, and the excess baggage. surprisingly, I was able to get my cargo tagged and automatically forwarded to Delhi, and ended up just paying $25 extra for the overweight suitcase. Now, let's hope that my precious belongings get there safe and sound...

The flight from Sarasota to Newark was somewhat faster than expected, as I landed in Newark a full 25 minutes before schedule. During the flight, I was feeling somewhat Gassy, rather like an LNG pipeline, as my intestines rumbled and roared within. So as soon as I got off the plane, I found a restroom and produced the longest fart ever to be rendered by my anus. I swear I could have got the aircraft from Sarasota to Newark just with that prodigious stream of plasma.

On emptying my innards, I proceeded to consume the following-

1. A bottle of sparkling Acqua Minerale
2. A glass of Clos-du-bois 2002 Merlot Red, which accompanied a-
3. A 10 - oz. Filet Mignon, done medium but a bit charred on the edges,
4. A plate of Mushrooms sauteed in butter.
5. A couple of hard bread rolls, with unsalted butter.

Total cost- An unreasonable $ 55.

That should keep me nicely settled for a while.

And here I am, It's about seven-thirty, sand they begin boarding in a half hour; finishing off what will be my last post from America. Which brings me to think about the very purpose of this blog. I hope it has been as enjoyable and informative for my audience, as it has been for me to write.

Thank you, Everybody.

looking sexy while flying across the atlantic

2007-05-20T17:55:00.000-07:00

With just 2 days to go, I am left with nothing to do. I have tried to re-pack and adjust things in my overweight cases for the sake of shaving off a few grams here or there, but it looks like I'll have to carry atleast one overweight suitcase, despite having to leave behind so many things. Worst of all, there is no way of accurately telling how much the luggage weighs, as our $5 weighing scale tends to be very optimistic, and there are no friendly neighbourhood flour mills where you could make use of their balance scales. Mom's clinic has a large floor-mounted weighing scale(that is fluent in metric) which may come to our rescue.

There is also this strange, fervent last-minute spending spree that is coming on, and despite me knowing that I have neither the money or the payload, I am beside myself with ideas of what else I'd like to buy.

Thanks to the hefty luggage, I have no choice but to use the garish red-and blue el-cheapo stroller luggage, already coming apart, and held together with Krazy Glue (not kidding) for my carry-on baggage. My smart and sexy black laptop bag will ride in the confines of my large suitcase in the belly of the plane. I have this thing about looking cool while travelling, It's as if I had to attend a high-power exec meeting as soon as I got off the bird. As It became clear that the mass of my cargo would be a lot more than fashionable, I knew that the idealised picture I had in my noggin, with me sitting comfortably in an airport lounge, sipping on a espresso, with my laptop flurrying across the WiFi; or on the plane, with a good view and a comely airhostess, was not to be. I had better be prepared for another agonizing 24 hours of travel, complete with loud jet engines(thank you, Boeing and GE) louder infants in mid-flight, sweaty, smelling uncles who like to cuddle, robotic airhostesses, and bad weather.

Piece of advice- Never, ever buy bargain-basement priced luggage, even if you travel once a year or less. I'd rather buy something decent and reliable rather than cheap and disposable, even for a single trip.

You know, stuff...

2007-05-18T08:29:00.000-07:00

The Shopping is now complete. All I have to do is try and distribute the weight into 2 suitcases equally, so that I may avoid paying the $25 per piece overweight baggage penalty.

I have no space left.

The suitcases are full, both by weight, and by volume. And some of my stuff is still left outside. I am now faced with the difficult task of deciding what goes and what stays behind in America. My daily work clothes, that include all my chef coats and pants, tee-shirts, and stuffy work socks are not coming along anyway. The Anti-slip sole chef shoes I purchased for work are now quite grotty, fungus-infested and are otherwise coming apart. It makes no sense to take those along, right?
Some of my other tee-shirts are quite worn, so I may leave those too...let's see, what else?...A large and very heavy Lava-lamp, something a friend of mine is desperate to lay claim to, will have to stay put. So will the various computer-related paraphernalia that I have gathered over time. And then there are my toiletries, which are numerous, and all of which will stay behind as well. I do not see the idea behind carrying about halved bottles of conditioner and aftershave.

Still, it amazes me. the capacity of man to surround himself with material things. When I came here, all I had were my clothes, my books and little else. Everything neatly packed into two suitcases. Now, I am returning with the same number of cases, but I have had to leave so much behind, it feels so utterly wasteful. All the energy I've expended, all the money I've spent, all the things I've gathered, wasted. I tried so hard not to end up in this consumerist claptrap of buying anything I lay my eyes on, and to an extent, I succeeded. I resisted the urge to buy a pair of Ralph Lauren/CK/DKNY/Diesel jeans. I steered away from Home Depot as much as I could. I controlled the desire to buy a half-pound of a San Daniele ham at $70 a pound. I did not buy the very expensive vial of white truffle oil. I did not uncork a single bottle of wine. Most of all, I still have not been lured to commit the ultimate act of self-indulgence, and buy an iPod. Still, I have ended up with so much...stuff.

Now accepting Questions-II

2007-05-14T09:17:00.000-07:00

In my previous post, I described some of the questions that I had to face and give a suitable reply to in my last days at the Olive Garden. Some questions, such as the one regarding crime and punishment in India, were truly ridiculous, but maybe I forgot to imply the earnestness of my interrogators. Most of the queries fielded were asked with what could be interpreted as the utmost sincerity, and I did my best to reply to each question with due tact and accuracy.

I admire the courage of my former co-employees, for deciding to come out of their collective bubbles, and reaching out. One of them even remarked that he/she had not paid much attention in school, so did not know a lot about the rest of the world. I find that sort of sincerity and earnestness commendable. It takes real courage for a person to admit one's shortcomings and correct them.

What I find disappointing is the fact that my interaction with my former collegues was at its peak only at the very beginning and the very end of my employment. We had so many chances to sit and exchange ideas and share knowledge, but somehow, the Insulation tape that is found wound about the heads of many people came undone only at the peaks of my time there. I did not mind the questions, rather, I welcomed them; but my point is that this has demonstrated a tendency that seems to be part of the American psyche in general- That people will only be interested in anything other than their own only when it directly affects them. Very few people, who were otherwise intelligent and educated, showed any curiosity or a willingness to exchange ideas. Why, I ask, are people so content to bask in what they know, and shun what they do not, until it affects them in some way? To limit your worldview within the expanse of your nationality is ignoring the fact that the world we live in is changing fast, cultures are being exported, imported, and adopted, and if you cannot connect with others, you will weaken the health of your society from within.

In a way, this is my fault. My admittedly sporadic attempts to forge meaningful links were misread, misled and misinterpreted, because I could not trade in the same cultural currency that my peers did, which seems to be the dominant mode of social interaction. It was not possible for both me and the others to relate to each other, owing to our different materiel cultures that had but a few things in common. I had hoped to learn so much from people in my own age group, and people older than me, and help ourselves achieve a better understanding of these times, but this was just not to be. Instead, I had a sort of press conference both on my arrival and at my departure, with nothing more than soundbytes flowing in one direction.

What a shame. My ears and eyes, always alert, beheld so much. But for me, it is nothing more than hearsay, data collected at random, presenting crude, unprocessed shapes and colours instead of a coherent picture. If only we could share, I would be able to say with conviction that I lived and connected with the heartbeat of a nation other than my own. but by far, all I have to show for my time here are these words, those opinions I have presented before, and a faint glimmer of hope that my views are flawed, something that I have yet to prove to myself with substantial evidence. I have learnt nothing, and have given nothing.

No journey is complete until you understand your destination.

Now accepting questions...

2007-05-11T21:27:00.000-07:00

I just came back from what will be my last 'proper' day at work, another not-so-gruelling day on the line, and a quick hosing-down of the kitchen, to end the day. I will be working on Sunday, when it is Mother's Day in the USA, but my job on that day will be mainly supplementary, as the entire kitchen staff will be present, sweating it out on the line.

Most Of the Restaurant knew I was leaving, but as I made it clear that Sunday will be my last day, I noticed a rather strange shift in the temperament of those around me. People who had not exchanged a complete sentence with me over the past four months came over to ask why I was leaving. People who I did converse with on a regular basis, fielded questions, ranging from personal to just stupid. Some of them are reproduced below, with as much fidelity as permitted by memory.

Q: Why are you going back? Do you hate white people?
A: Er, No, Not particularly.

Q:How far is India?/How long does it take to get there?
A: well, to put it simply, it is halfway across the planet/About seventeen hours by the shortest flight.

Q: Is India a rich or poor country?
A: Define 'rich' or 'poor', but in general, yes, it is what could be called 'poor'

Q: Is India Clean or Dirty?
A: Well, It is rather dirty in places, but pristine in a few.

Q: Are there roads in India?
A: Yes, in most places, but not as wide and smooth as they are here. Plus, we drive on the left.
Q: You drive?
A: Er, Yes. Cars and Motorcycles are pretty commonplace.

Q: Are you really from Pakistan/Afghanistan/Iran/Iraq?
A: . . . . . . . . . . . . . No.

Q: Do they cut off your hands if you steal something in India?
A: Well, they break each of your fingers according to the value of what you may have stolen. (A pause. Sarcasm is exposed by my laughter) no, we do not. We have an Independent Judiciary, based on the British system of Law.

Q: What language do they speak in India?
A: There are twenty-two official languages, plus hundreds of local dialects spoken across the country. Depends on what state you're in.
Q: You Middle-Easterners sure speak a lot of languages, don't you?
A: Um, India is not located in the part of the world known as the Middle east. India is in South Asia.

Q:(Surprise Question!) Were you affected by the Tsunami?
A: Yes, Our Islands were terribly hit, as well as the eastern coast. I used to live quite deep inland.

Q: Does everybody have 3 wives?
A: Not that I know of. It's technically legal for certain sections of society, but nobody really marries 3 wives.

Q: Are you married/Do you have children?
A: HELL NO!!

Q: Will we ever see you again?
A: Never.

Olivia Ruiz - La Femme Chocolat

2007-05-05T20:42:00.000-07:00

Over the years, friends and acquaintances have brought music, both good and detestable, to the attention of my ears. an example of the former would be Olivia Ruiz, the French singer who has given us this delightful song, the video of which is available for your viewing pleasure below.

Even though my French is horrible, and French lyrics contain a lot of metaphors, they are still somewhat simple, and a quick lookup in a dictionary will yield some comprehension. But, as everyone knows, words and languages become immaterial when it comes to good music; because music has its own tongue, that speaks to something beyond our literary senses. This does not imply that language is unnecessary in the expression of music, but it is just another instrument, like so many, built upon the genius of the lyricist and the talent of the vocalist.

UN peacekeeping mission lands in USA

2007-05-04T14:37:00.000-07:00

From: Sarasota airport,

Report by: PS

As the Resurgent UN clamped down on a completely chaotic and lawless United States, The widely anticipated arrival of the UN Peacekeeping mission in this part of the country was met with a taciturn acknowledgment by the local warlords, Who had expressed concerns for the safety of the expectedly 13,000-strong International Coalition force. However, their concerns turned to surprise and utter confusion amongst the local factions as the aircraft carrying the first contingent yielded just one man.

A Single UN peacekeeper, resplendent in his all-olive green combat uniform, and blue beret(ahem, Patka) was seen disembarking the plane by this reporter and others. Questions about the heavily armed UN force soon evaporated as the nature of this single person was known. It is now clear that the UN has decided to send one Sardar, who has been given the peacekeeping responsibilities of close to 10,000 troops and 3000 officers. The Solitary peacekeeper, when interviewed by this reporter, revealed his joy and excitement at the outset of his tour of duty, and was supremely confident about his ability to take on the unruly Street gangs of the Tampa Bay area, with his formidable arsenal of Tea-cozies, Lamb pickle and popadums, taking the place of the more conventional Armoured Personnel Carrier, Riot Control shield and Flak jacket.

In this publicity photo-op, the one-man army, comfortably divested of his uniform, is seen admiring the scenery around his command post, over tea and biscuits.

Family Memories

2007-04-29T19:48:00.000-07:00

My extended family is often looked upon by friends and others as an ideal image. The way we are constantly engaging, meeting, loving, supporting, counseling, and living together is something that seems to be missing in most other extended families. I suppose our family is one that could fall into the joint family category, but with the extensibility and freedom that is offered by a nuclear family. A perfect combination.

As the years have gone by, I have come to the realization that this perfect cocoon that we so value is going to be a thing of the past very soon. Within the span of 3 years, we have spread all over the globe, in the pursuit of a better life, better lifestyles and more. We still actively engage, meet, love, support, counsel, and 'live' together, but only over the telephone, or the internet, or through the written word. I hope this lasts. I hope against the overriding logical conclusion that I have come to, that we are drifting. Apart, or together, I do not know.

Still, here is a picture of my mother, aged 4 years, with my grandfather, and the grandmother I never knew. She has always said how lucky she feels to have come into a family like ours, and although she is optimistic about the future, I have my reservations.

Digital tomfoolery in the picture is sponsored in part by-

Hearsay

2007-04-27T22:28:00.000-07:00

Working in a place full of people other than your own gives one the unique position of being a perfect fly on the wall. Often, I find myself standing in the middle of of the line, between two people, who are having a very spirited debate; comments and opinions being tossed across with the same alacrity as one tosses a bag of broccoli and peppers across the line. I am in the middle of it all, rather in the thick of all the dialogue, saying nothing but hearing everything.

Hearing what everyone is saying about anything, without you being an influencing factor is indeed a quality any observer would like to have on his or her side. Sometimes, I put my brain on automatic, cooking things off as they come on, keeping up with the primary function of my presence in the kitchen, while my ears scan the air like radars for a glimpse into the mindset of America.

To get a Glimpse into this world, Anyone who is not equipped with a Television set is at a disadvantage, for most, if not all of the conversation that takes place between the burners and the appetizers counter is centered around that great electronic god, that holiest of electron guns, the most sacred of lord of high-definition, Television. Topics of common interest include- The Sopranos, Family Guy, some comedian named Adam Parola, controversial Bugs Bunny Cartoons, ESPN, and other assorted samplings from the realm of television, too numerous and inane to list here.
Another, most exclusive group, one that is nontheless open to all, yet accessible only to the most fervent of devotees, is centered around the MMORPG, World of Warcraft. At any point, whenever the screens stop beeping and the burners are turned down, the group returns to discussing the best way to deal with something called the Horde, or the latest Blood Elf. The group has a relationship that understandably extends beyond the real world, as they engage with each other and carry out something called a 40-man raid.
One thing that unites all is a common and healthy dislike of the British. Common dialogue that is often repeated is reproduced below (with as much accuracy as my memory permits)

"whatever in the hell is a knightship anyway?(presumably, they mean Knighthood) Do ya have to fight some dude to get it?
Naah, they just give it to any rich guy..i cant believe the made elton john a knight...he must have shined a lotta swords to get it..hyukhyukhyuk!!"

"the treaty of Paris represents the greatest military victory in the world!
Yeah, we showd' em who's who! we don't drink tea an say cheerio!!"

A common competitive game and bonding ritual among the whole group is the ongoing competition to recognise the song being played out on the radio. often, this leads to displays of public power, as the one who gets the most hits exhibits his prowess to the females in the group. throwing small bits of food at the females is also accepted as a form of societal bonding, as is the continual verbal taunting by the quicker of the females.

But now, this account is starting to sound too much like the diary of an anthropologist, and before I say some things that many may deem outright demeaning, I must bring further research to a halt.

interesting primates they certainly are, nonetheless...

Watching the seconds tick away

2007-04-23T08:07:00.000-07:00

My bus arrives in about half an hour. I have nothing to do in between, so I crank up the old Toshiba, and blog.

My wallet is still inside the car, which is now about 15 kilometers away. Drat. How am I supposed to pay the $1 fare for the bus ride?

Ah, here's some loose change. Problem solved.

I do not want to go to work today. I need my scheduled day off tomorrow, today.

I pack and re-pack my computer and its various peripherals into the old black backpack, to see if the space provided will suffice for the flight back home, or a newer, larger laptop bag is in order. I think the old one will do, If i pack judiciously, and get a smaller camera bag. I do not need to carry the large one with the battery charger, spare batteries, CF cards and such. I don't really have the money to spend on such items, when there are other priorities, such as the mandatory shopping for family and friends. Those who have specifically asked for certain things, have made it very easy for me. It is those who have not that are a cause for concern. I do not want to return empty-handed, but I just cannot think of what to bring for them. Thinking of the perfect gift is hard work!

I look at my bicycle. who will take care of it now that i'm leaving? not that it matters though. it's just a bike. The one that really took me places was stolen, and this is just a replacement. It's a sad thought, when you consider my tendency to become emotionally attached to machines.

Why am I so melancholy? Ah, I know! I have not tasted the insides of a bottle of beer for over 10 days now. Trying to save money never felt this...dry.

the wonderful world of the internet

2007-04-20T15:09:00.000-07:00

One of the things i like the most about the internet is how, when looking for a particular bit of information, you can sometimes come across some completely unrelated, and unusual information. Like this time.

I was googling the web for images of the great composer, Ludwig Van Beethoven, specifically using their useful Image search feature, when I came across a page that explained the various easter traditions of central Europe, including countries such as Poland, Slovenia, The Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary and others. Here is the interesting tidbit I found (and I Quote)-

"One prime example of a pagan Czech Easter celebration is the "pomlazka". Farmers used to believe that a strong whipping after the winter period guaranteed health, prosperity, and most importantly a good harvest. This tradition remains to this day, although slightly modified. It is only the women who are given a good spanking with whips made of willow twigs, decorated with colourful ribbons (as if a little bit of decoration would help to ease the pain!). It is mainly younger boys who go from door to door, hoping to thrash a few girls to get some eggs in return, while singing traditional Easter carols.
The whipping or "pomlazka" is to get rid of all the bad things that had accumulated during the winter and bring the vitality back in the ladies, as well as ensure beauty and, of course, fertility."

Nothing like a good whipping to get the ol' Ovaries going.

the article goes on to quote a woman who reminisces about her ceremonial whippings as a child, and explains how it has now become a sort of game between younger children. That still does not justify what is essentially violence against women, disguised as an innocuous game between children.

i'm sure there are parallels in Indian culture as well, but my question is, how far can you go, when you are trying to balance ancient traditions and modern civility? where is the fine line between the game and the abuse? It can be assumed that the Czech explain to their young the sigificance of this ritual, and educate them about what constitutes fun and what becomes fear. Somehow, I cannot bring myself to expect the same from my own countrymen.

maybe that could fit in here....

2007-04-19T10:10:00.000-07:00

So, as the date for my departure draws closer, I have officially commenced my shopping spree. This free run of the malls and online stores is however, only for the stuff my friends have asked for. My own personal shopping has been going on for quite a while at a more slow, sustained rate.

This is what my suitcase looked like about 10 days back, and now even the little space at the top left is occupied by something or the other. I think one bag will have to be delegated entirely to the merchandise i'm bringing over, and one bag will carry all my clothes and books. let us see how the packing works out.

smooch smooch slobber slobber

2007-04-17T08:44:00.000-07:00

...is probably NOT what Richard Gere had in mind, when he swept off Shilpa Shetty off her feet.

I can't believe what this country is coming to. Here, we have things going on like the persistant demand for Kashmir's demiltarisation, Reservations, A questionable Nuclear agreement, and who knows what else I have failed to mention here, but our peerless media decides to give publicity to the scourges known as the RSS, VHP, Bajrang Dal and their ilk. what's more, this unnecessary coverage is making me write this totally unnecessary article, adding to the bulk of bad writings available on the internet.
It's funny how Richard Gere is in the news so suddenly, as just the other day, I was showing some of my pictures from the McLoedganj-Dharamsala trip I undertook last year. A boss of mine, who can be described as a wannabe buddhist, became quite excited when I mentioned that McLo is one of Mr. Gere's haunts.

In keeping with the 'news segment' feel of this post, A South korean-origin gunman, possibly a jilted lover, slaughtered 32 people, including students, an Indian professor, and many more innocents, yesterday morning at Virginia Tech. Mothers all over the country could be seen at every school bus stop, escorting their kids into the bus,such has been the impact of this shooting.

IMHO-this is what you get when you don't require a licence for obtaining and possessing a lethal weapon. What is more disturbing is how, today, all over the radio, pro-gun spokespersons were dismissing the event, suggesting that a killer as determined as the individual responsible for this attack, would "find other means to do what he did", if guns were not available.

What a stupid comment. the guy was carrying 2 guns, one of which was a Glock 9mm pistol. It carries 15 rounds of ammo in a standard clip, plus one in the chamber. This very sophisticated, jam-proof gun was designed for military and paramilitary applications, not civil markets. Moreover, 9 mm is about as big as you can go in handgun sizes. This is a serious weapon, designed to kill enemy combatants at close range, not disable like the comparatively itsy-bitsy 5.65 mm. The Glock 17/18 model can be modified to become a fully automatic burst-firing pistol. Although I am not sure that this was the model the gunman was carrying, Glocks are basically modular, meaning a civil-sales pistol could be made into a melee weapon, despite the difficulties of doing so.

Why would you allow just about anyone to privately own such a weapon?

Vista? Hurmph!!

2007-04-13T19:07:00.000-07:00

It is often said, that you should never look a gift horse in the mouth. Except that this little gift from the good folks at Microsoft caused me two days of agony.

I have heard much about this all-new operating system, under it's various names such as longhorn and Vista beta Build x.x. Nothing quite prepared me for the disappointment of actually trying to install the bloody thing.

Let's start out with the packaging. I was expecting a decent sized box, complete with manuals and shiny new Certificate of Authenticity (COA) labels, and a well made DVD. Instead, I got a DVD so poorly made, it seems as if the adhesive between the two halves of the disk was applied with a rather Van Gogh-esque touch, slathered on in one corner, and so thin in one place, i could see the two pieces de-laminating already. Then, there was no manual. Only a flimsy piece of paper, a mere ghost of what it should be, that glibly informed me that the install could take several hours. Finally, the COA, thoughtfully stuck to the back of the DVD box, with no tab or any means to remove it properly.

The install went on to first uninstall every damn thing deemed incompatible, and plodded on for another good hour or so, before it announced the completion of this dreary task. But this was only the beginning. the installer then went on to download a new version of everything it had just removed, from the Internet. That alone took another hour. Why, I ask, did Toshiba not include these pieces of software on the DVD? Updates could have been done later. Installing all the drivers required a re-boot every five minutes or so, and I had 34 bits of software to install.
Thus went the next two hours.

by the time I finally got to see the slick GUI of Vista, my Laptop was sizzling. The fan was whining at an alarming unsteady pace, the palmrest was hot, and the job was still not done.

things were finally looking better, when i remembered that this clean install had wiped out my Ubuntu as well. Hells Bells! I popped in the Ubuntu Disk, rebooted, and installed Ububtu in, ahem, thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes! That is all that it took! a complete, full-fledged Operating System, including extras like the GiMP, and OpenOffice.org!

At this point, Mr. Vista decided to step in and say, "now hold on just a minute! where do you think you're going with my disk space? trying to load an alternative Operating system, eh? Don't like my new translucent window borders, do we? Trying to do things your own way, are you? well, i'll show you what's what!"

having said that, Vista went on to pull its pistol out, and shoot itself in the foot.

Ubuntu booted up, complete with Masai music in the background, while windows lost its bearings and corrupted a system file. It refused to boot up. completely belligerent. While my Linux hummed along.

Okay, I said, no problem. i'll just have to stay awake all night and re-install. take it easy. get a cup of that delicious Godiva chocolate.

I did re-install, and go through six to seven hours of torture, only to find that monsieur Vista was acting up again. AGAIN. That was it. I whipped out the hard-hitting, disk-formatting Toshiba Restore DVD, and waved Vista goodbye.

Am I ever going to re-install Vista? probably, but not anytime soon. I don't want to look at that DVD again, for a while. I liked Vista at the first glance, the new explorer, the new start menu, everthing. It comes with some very interesting and innovative techologies, such as ReadyBoost, and the active, always-on Defragging system. it's a good piece of work, but why, oh why, does it behave so malevolently? why do I still see the 256-color icons from the cursed Windows ME transported into something as 'cutting edge' as Vista? That is what I call a bad omen. Why did I have to Install all my software all over again? why didmy laptop have to sit, unshielded by an antivirus, as I removed the bloatware called McAfee and install my $80 copy of Kaspersky? why? Why! WHY?!?

As I write this(on my newly restored and very stable, thank you very much) Windows XP MCE, I browse over some Linux webpages...will try out the KDE Desktop environment instead of GNOME soon.

Bleeding eardrum Massacre

2007-04-09T22:24:00.000-07:00

I just read this piece on how the public presentation of music has become progressively amplified, and the death of softness, subtlety, and dynamic range. Fitting, as I was sending some of the loudest and most bombastic classical music ever written, barreling forward at maximum volume towards my Cochlea as I read the same piece.

Indeed, pick up any of the latest hits from the supermarket shelf, and the first thing that comes into your mind is, 'Wow!' as the clean, smooth notes hit you like the blast of air from a leaf blower. Music today really seems to have progressively tilted towards uniform loudness, instead of keeping a wide dynamic range. A loud, clean track is a hit on the radio. A track with soft interludes is a gap-filler, meant for the spare radio time between the instant radio hits.

So, to help my loudness-seeking bretheren further damage their hearing, I request that they atleast do so in style, by listening to some Symphonic big-band orchestral classical music such as-

1. Sergey Profokiev- Romeo&Juliet-'Monagues and Capulets' (excerpt) suite 2 no. 1
2. Carl Orff- Carmina Burana- O Fortuna
3. Richard Wagner- Ride of the Valkries
4. Gustav Holst- The Planets suite-'Mars, the bringer of war' (particularly malleus-assaulting)
5. Paul Dukas- the Sorcerer's Apprentice
6. Modest Petrovich Mussogorsky- Night on the bare mountain
7. Sir Edward Elgar- Land of hope and Glory

On a second thought, here is another loudness related link...

A spurt of sensibility

2007-04-06T20:25:00.000-07:00

Those of you who follow this blog with regularity(now there's a minority, anyone at Sachar committee listening?) will know of my previous writings on how I have tried to keep myself in a steady job. I have mentioned the initial days, where a bewildering rush of orders threw me off my guard every day, forcing me to lag behind, only to be bailed out by a patient trainer, and often ending up every day, tired, exhausted and seriously questioning my choice of career.

It's been close to three months since I joined the new job, and for the first time, I am beginning to feel like I am up to the task. The strange thing is, that this realisation, this quiet confidence, and this faith in one's ability seemed to appear out of nowhere. Somewhere along the line, I ceased to count the various milestones, the benchmarks I had set out for myself that reminded me what was lacking in my efforts. Gradually, the apprehension evaporated, and the kernel of doubt dissipated. And I became aware of these things only in the last few days, realising that the story had changed for me even further back than I expected. I had finally developed the capacity to play as a part of a team, and not be a shackle anymore, to keep up the pace, and develop that strange synaptic network that every professional kitchen has. All of this had taken place gradually over the past month or so, but I realised it over the last week itself...Ability is achieved not in a single leap, but tiny, immeasurable shuffles.

Still, I have issues. I do manage to do some pretty stupid things sometimes, but not as much as to be a cause of concern. Nothing unredeemable. Verbal communication with my Hispanic brethren is still dicey, but functional. I do end up feeling useless and worthless at times, but with every beep of an incoming order, who has the time to think of one's piffling emotions?!? Come on, man! Vamos! let's go! Get that order out the window! go! go! go!

Overall, this has been an important lesson for me. Going into a new organization is tough, and you need to be very patient and hard-working in order to get to the level you want to be at, even though it may not be the top of the game. Having a good training environment is equally important, and there will be people who will help you, and those who will spurn you. You have to show your worth, and get their respect. A year ago, this would have certainly meant all sorts of showboating to me, and there was quite a bit of it going on in those heady days at Maurya. Everybody was into it, the sycophancy, the showing-off, and the recklessness...It needs no mention that in the fiefdom that was Maurya, this sort of thing worked. I did manage to sober down a bit and learn a few things from here and there in my 5-month training period, but imagine all that I could have done if I was less of an asshole, if we were all lesser assholes. And it still means the same thing to most young people setting out for their first contact with the real world. We kids are all so reckless...and stupid.

gore never looked so good

2007-04-05T13:47:00.000-07:00

This week, on my day off, I decided to go and see the new film adaptation of Frank Miller's graphic(pun intended) novel- 300.

300 tells the tale of the battle of the legendary Spartan king Leonidas against the world-conquering Xerxes in 480 B.C.E, at the battle of Thermopylae. Leonidas, after being given the chance to submit to Xerxes, goes off with 300 of his best men to hold off an entire army, something that they manage to do, despite being killed in the end(save one last man)

End of history lesson. Those who have seen the earlier Frank Miller work, 'Sin City' in its motion picture rendition, will certainly enjoy this veritable blood-spattered-bone-crushing-spleen-puncturing-kill em' all let-god-sort-em-out movie. Of course, there is an unrealistic amount of sytlised violence, but, it looks SO awesome, you cannot help but smile at every bloody thrust of sword or spear, regard in awe every decapitation, and laugh with joy as another one of Xerxes's minions get disemboweled. And that is just about all there is to it, save for the de-facto sex scene and the rudiments of the story that try to hold the movie together. If violence was fashionable, this would be the haute-couture version.

Critically, the movie lends itself to overtly stylised depictions of history, to an extent that it could be deemed un-authentic. To a politically correct person, the movie is subtly racist, as the predominantly black and Asian looking Persian army is drubbed by an all-white group of 300 men. Xerxes himself is depicted as a dark, tall, bald, bling-loaded black man, which Xerxes was certainly not. The armies of Xerxes are also outfitted with distinctly Arab-influenced costumes, and their behaviour is also modeled on popular perceptions of Arabs in America. To a gay man, the interaction between the 300 spartans would seem very 'Gay'. A militarized 'Brokeback Mountain' , if you will. (in fact, homosexuality was an accepted choice in ancient Greece)

cinematically, the movie is in the same league as the eye-candy directed by Zhang Yimou, 'Hero', being a special-effects loaded, visually stunning masterpiece. the only difference is, that 'Hero' had a storyline, even if it was a somewhat cue-and-rewind storyline. The novel itself is purely narrative, with no side dish stories going along with the basic plot. The movie somehow, managed to add in the story of the Spartan Queen's tribulations, as well as the now-compulsory sex scene. Why?

nonetheless, a good way to spend the afternoon.

Go see it!

switching over from the dark side

2007-04-01T22:30:00.000-07:00

So you guys may be wondering why I have not posted in such a while...well, maybe not.

The truth is, I've been experimenting with the laptop. Not as much as opening up the case and messing about with the innards, but trying out alternatives to what has come to be the most used piece of software ever written. Microsoft Windows.

Yes, dear friends, there is an alternative to buying an operating system for (but not worth) $300.
I am speaking of LINUX, the free, independent, and public domain operating system based on the UNIX operating system.

Linux thrives on a vibrant community of developers who create their own versions, rather, distributions of linux, the most popular of which is undoubtedly ubuntu. Cast aside your fears, your apprehensions and your Microsoft dependency, and embrace the GNU/GPL domain.

There is an aura of mystery that clouds linux, something about being difficult to use, install, and maintain. Something inherently Nerdy or Geeky, something that needs expert control. And that is part of the charm. it was very easy to install, and set up, once I read about the system and understood its principles. It was wonderful to see it boot, and present me with its simple, yet highly customisable KDE/Gnome interface. It came with neat bundled applications. It was challenging to get the wireless networking going, and it was even more challenging to get my Windows file system into ubuntu. It compels you to explore, tinker, and learn. And it is bewilderingly fast.

of course, I was smart enough to install what is called a Boot Loader, and keep the ability to boot both ubuntu and Windows...it will be some time before I can wean myself off it completely, but Windows has its benefits.

But, damn, linux is so cool...

They're back! The Beer Reviews!

2007-03-26T20:23:00.000-07:00

And continuing on my journey through lagerland and aleville, here are some of the other beers I have sampled lately-

Boddington's pub ale- Presented in a distinctive yellow can that hints at the extraordinary color of this beverage, this is a classic British beer, counted among the likes of the more popular Bass pale ale and the Irish Guinness. As mentioned before, the beer has a lovely honey golden colour, unlike any other beer I've ever seen. The head is soft, creamy and somewhat stable, and if poured correctly, it just looks too pretty to drink. The trademark of the beer is a honeybee, and indeed, the flavour is surprisingly sweet, with a distinct honey taste, and a sweet, fermented aroma reminiscent of overripe bananas and fresh yeast. The hoppiness is rather understated, so much so that you may end up checking the can to see if you're really drinking beer. Alcohol content is moderate, which results in a finish that is minimally dry, but otherwise pleasant.
Overall, a distinctive beer with a persona that is like a sweet, charming, emphatic girlfriend, the sort that makes you happy just be around. The sort you just want to hug.

Highly reccomended, unless your idea of an ale is something more hoppy and/or Guiness-ish.

Grolsch- A premium Dutch beer, in production since the 1600's, It retains its character by choosing to remain unpasteurised. Presented in a unique swingtop bottle, that offers you a larger dose than the ordinary pint, this is a very strongly flavoured beer, that gives 'hoppiness' a whole new meaning. This often makes the beer rather unapproachable for most people used to a lighter lager. (Note that lightness or strength here has nothing to do with the alcohol content, as it is commonly misrepresented, thanks to "Godfather strong beer" or "Haywards 10000")
The appearance is typically lager-like, with a slightly darker tint than usual. The head is again, lager-like, the sort that dissipates quickly. All of this is designed to fool the casual drinker to assume this beer is another Heineken. Then you take your first sip. The flavour hits you like a Cadillac Escalade driven at 90 miles per hour, driven by a coke-addled rap-star...very, very hard. Strong flavours of hops dominate the scene, and that is pretty much all there is to it. The Finish is very astringent, dry, and akin to a young wine. Alcohol content is also a bit higher than usual, and all of this makes for a beer that is somewhat like the beer concentrate used to fuel pub taps. Shockingly strong for the Budweiser-Busch-Michelob crowd.

Bass Pale ale- The most popular British ale, second only to Guiness in popularity. Like the Guiness and other beers that were draught-only until a few years ago, the can comes with a nitrogen gas-release device, that somewhat replicates the unique draught flavour . When opened(and poured correctly, this beer is rather fussy to serve in a glass) the amber-copper hued beer forms a half-inch head, that dissolves within two to three minutes to a thin, yet constant patina of foam; which leaves foamy 'legs' as the beer drops down the glass. The taste is primarily caramel, derived from the roasted malt, British hops, and a very mild fruit flavour. The body is disappointingly weak, that feels watered-down and diluted, and features somewhat excessive carbonation, that comes up only when the beer is in contact with your toungue, making for a feel that is something like swallowing a gulp of fresh soda. That detracts from the flavour, thus making for a let-down. In a way, this makes the ale more quaffable, by balancing the caramel flavours with a refreshing fizz and moderate body, but it also results in a drinking experience that is less than pleasurable. Something of an easy-going ale, trying to be a lager.

Although I have sampled both ales and lagers side by side, The exact picture of of what an ale is and what a lager is somewhat blurry for me. After all, I am a novice, and there are people out there who can taste if the beer came out an aluminum can, for god's sake! There is much research to be done, and soon, I will be trying out some Italian beers, and some unusual wheat and assorted-grain based beers. Let us see how the grain types affect the final product.

Hip tip- 'Bud' is made from rice, among other things. Go figure. (I'm talking about the American version, Not the Original)

Asian Top Gear

2007-03-21T11:27:00.000-07:00

A Spinoff from 'Goodness Gracious Me!' on the popular Motoring Show 'Top Gear'

Check out the Male-chauvinist Surdy and the Yorkshire accent!!

My Chocoholism

2007-03-21T09:41:00.000-07:00

While mom worries about the impending binge drinking that may take place when I am set loose upon Indian soil, I am worried about a far more serious issue.

I have taken to chocolate.

It's not as if I have started to consume large quantities of assorted candy, but I have indeed began to eat prodigious amounts of chocolate. My desk at home has a corner reserved exclusively for a few bars of dark chocolate, as well as a handful of chocolate dipped almonds and raisins. My dessert is invariably dark chocolate ice-cream, or mint chocolate cookies, and I drink a cup of hot chocolate truffle every other day.
The Swiss consume over 10 kilos of chocolate per person per annum, of which most is high-quality Dark chocolate. The Americans eat about 5 kilos per annum, with two-thirds of that being in the form of milk chocolate, candy, and chocolate-based sweets. Dark chocolate is preferred by older people, and those who have an acquired taste for it.

I spend about $5-15 each week to support my addiction, which may not seem like a lot of money, but, convert it to rupees, and you have a weekly cost of within the Rs. 500-per-week range. I bet I wouldn't spend that much money on petrol inspite of having the priviledge of riding a gas guzzler.

So, I must reform myself. Living in Delhi will have to be done on a shoestring budget, of about Rs. 6000/- , plus whatever I withdraw from my earnings here(something to be done only in life-and-death situations) In this case, I have to wean myself off the food of the gods., no matter what.

MUHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

2007-03-18T20:20:00.000-07:00

Evil maniac laughter.

Something I could barely control as I singlehandedly Destroyed the hopes and aspirations of hundreds of drunken youth who wanted to get more drunk on St. Patrick's day.

It all began with an invitation. A guy I know at work let me know that there would be 'hammered chicks' everywhere, ripe for the picking at this particular bar he was going to after work, and asked me if I'd like to come along for what he termed the 'muffhunt'
Not having had the chance to go out for such a long time, I agreed to his generous offer.

So, after work, a quick shower, and a quick gargle with the mouthwash(in case of the highly unlikely scenario that I would be required to administer mouth-to-moth resuscitation to an unconscious girl{the whole ending-up-with-a-chick scenario is just too fantastical}) I was ready.

All went well, I was sampling some good Irish Whiskey, while everybody else went beserk on the beer, when some really stupid young white guy started fighting. A minor skirmish, nothing more than drunken posturing and shouting and pushing. As the bouncers ejected the errant youth, we all spilled out of the bar to watch.

Here's when I thought of becoming a responsible citizen, and decided to call the cops.

I walked over to the corner, out of sight, and dialed 911. after being put on hold thrice(what if this was a homocide?) I was connected to the ol' deputy. a few cursory questions later, he hung up. By now, everybody had grown tired of the fight and was back to the drinking. and it was about ten minutes later that the sheriff came and ordered the bar to close.

Anger. despair. rage. all of these emotions ran high in the throng of inebriates, and for one second, I was glad that I wisely kept quiet, and did not brag about my honest citizen's duty. That would have got me lynched.

instead, there was this evil laughter. How easy it was to steal joy from the hearts of the drunkards, how delightful! On the other hand, there were people passing out and puking in every parking lot, and they showed no signs of quitting. Maybe I did them a favour. I had to drop off 2 colleagues to their homes, as they were too drunk to even stand straight. To think that they were going to drive home in that state was terrifying.

Naah, it was pure evil! MUHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!!!!

Here's a Hip tip- If a bunch of friends and you have been out drinking, ask someone to be the designated driver. even if the driver downs a few shots, the police will never check him or her, as long as the really drunk guys do all the talking. In any case, please avoid drinking if you are the designated driver.

Oh, and here's my photos from last night....

I reed blogs

2007-03-15T20:26:00.000-07:00

Do you remember when you first accessed the Internet?

Do you remember the anticipation, the hair on your arms standing on end, the excitement as the modem's lights blinked, and as the speaker let out a wailing cresecendo of a computer trying to connect to the world wide web? The disappointment when you would be summarily knocked offline without any reason? Especially when your browser was halfway between downloading a picture of Pamela Anderson with her Grand Teutons out there for all of humanity to see, and you had got to just above the cleavage?

With Internet Pornography so widely accessible today, it's just not fun anymore to sneak a peek at what goes on between a man and a woman, or two women, and a man (and so on...)

The sparkle of the Internet had just died for me.

Then I began Blogging.

I started blogging, and reading. and my, is there a world out there. Some great blogs, some very talented writers, and the whole experience of being able to read what someone else wrote, like a candid snapshot out of their lives, although slightly voyeuristic, is like a diluted version of being able to read what your girlfriend wrote in her diary. Sets your pulse up a little bit, lets you imagine things and best of all, it lets you see the writer's perspectives from a more intimate angle.
But this concerns only personal blogs, and indeed, some of these pieces of virtual real-estate are maintained by completely self-absorbed people, who love to write in detail about their very exciting lives. Some blogs are boring(like this one), and some are so personal, it becomes a little scary.

On the other end of this spectrum are the 'Professional Bloggers'. writers with talent, a subject and a method. Most of these blogs are maintained with the care due to the grass on the fairways at the Royal Dornoch. Well linked, well-researched(relatively) articles are to be found for all to read. for free. And that is just brilliant.

During this foray into the rarified techno-elite strata of the Net, I have, maybe through subconscious direction, sought out blogs that have the India connection. contrary to my expectations, many Desi bloggers are bringing out weighty articles, as opposed to the pointless drivel that most other blogs churn out. Notable for their opinions and views are the folks at The Indian National Interest, a blog that focuses on Strategic Affairs in the Indian subcontinent. The blogs attached to this portal are quite right-wing in nature, yet very insightful, and they make for intriguing reading.
While we're here, It's also worthwhile to look at some conservative blogs, the most notable of which is run by the rather paranoid Debbie Schussel, A Far-right wing Neo-Con, whose favourite hobby is Islam-Bashing. To read her "blog" is to read the mind of deeply conservative America, for whom she is Jean d'Arc. Some very entertaining content can be found here!

In a lighter vein, a good place to find nice links is DesiPundit, which is rapidly becoming a de-facto blogs index, supported by a large team of contributors. Also notable Are India Uncut, and Jabberwock, both of which feature book reviews; and are maintained by professional journalists. Another Independent Web-based Magazine is called *Pardon my Hindi, a well-designed site, with the associated blog, Turbanhead. Lots of links to YouTube Video clips, media and other stuff.

Taking off from the whole Desi Blogosphere, is EDGE / The Reality Club. This is undoubtedly the place where the heavy-hitters come to. and by heavy-hitters I mean people like Noam Chomsky. Although not a blog by any standard, it makes for some very good reading.

Thus concludes my daily reading list...

Dhoom machade

2007-03-11T07:24:00.000-07:00

I had been salivating for months on end now, on the prospect of inheriting the stewardship of the Enfield when I went home. Deciding having one good bike was better than having two bad bikes, I had invested in the long-overdue overhaul of the old warhorse, the outcome of which remains to be seen.

Being the sort of person who likes to do things all the way, I went out and blew $260 on riding apparel.

I had wanted to buy a pair of good-quality winter-proof riding gloves for a long time. Finding them in India is a bit of a wild-goose chase, so I bought these.
Although This may sound weird and make me look like a sissy, I felt that i was a good idea to get a proper, windproof, waterproof and armoured winter riding jacket. By armour, I do not mean a Bulletproof vest, or a knight's iron chestplate, but regular, flexible padding armour. Nice to know that my elbows and shoulders stand a better chance of survival lest the Bullet decides to go skyward.

OK, that's enough!

2007-03-07T16:27:00.000-08:00

For some reason, over the last few days, I developed the need for a digital camera to call my own.
Strange, given that I am a poor photographer, despite the fact that the older sibling shoots for a 'leading newsmagazine' and that I really don't take pictures that often. I realised that was because till date, I never had a camera entirely to myself, and had otherwise shot on the photographic equivalent of the Panzer tank...something that takes more than a keen interest to effectively operate. Borrowed F60's with sub-let 50 mm lenses, maybe a 110 mm, a few minutes with a EOS 20D, idle evenings with D1X's and D100's, that was it.

So, After scouring the internet and acquiring the opinions of a few esteemed professionals, I had whittled down the contenders to two- The Canon S3 IS and the Lumix FZ8...both offered compelling performance, excellent features and both had that little 'extra' feature thrown in. For the Panasonic Lumix, it was the ability to shoot RAW data images, always a big, big plus; offset by the noisy NMOS sensor and the Quirky noise reduction software. The S3 IS had everything the FZ8 had, minus the RAW capability; which again was offset by the great CCD sensor(I thought Canon used CMOS), which produces pretty decent images by itself, and the power supply, that uses AA batteries. (quite nothing like your batteries going kaput at the 'decisive moment'...a common cause of hair loss among professional photographers.)

In the end, I decided that going with the RAW capability was not in my best interest, since shooting in RAW takes up a lot of memory, and requires a lot of post-production work in order to make your images work. That takes time. And effort. And is it worth spending 5 to 10 minutes on each picture, even if you're never going t use them again? Moreover, It's not as if i'm producing 16X10" prints, so photo quality has to be perfect for printing. When you buy a Digital Camera, especially an automatic point-and-click variant, you just have to accept that it will never equal a Film camera(at least as of today) or a proper Digital SLR. Having seen professional equipment Nikons and Canons shoot noise-free, crisp pictures at 1600 ISO will make most people think that the same can be achieved by the $200 equivalent as well. That, my friends, is just not going to happen.

So I (Very reluctantly) dumped the Raw shooting Lumix, and went with the Canon S3 IS. Now, the question of buying presented two options-Buy online, and wait for a week, or buy today, and pay more. I gave in to my greed. Who gives a damn if I save $20-30 by ordering online?

To the Accord! (play the Batman 'to the batmobile' sound in your head now)

Canon provides a generous 16 Megabyte SD card with the kit, along with a lens cap(that is sort of loose) and a shoulder strap, as well as the de rigeur CD-ROM, manuals, and cables. I got myself a Sandisk Extreme II 60X 2 Gb SD card, that was on sale, from $60 to $25, as well as a Lowepro camera case, on sale for $18. Now all that is left is two sets of rechargeable AA batteries and a good charger, and maybe a few extras here and there...

See my first set of pictures here. (a'la toreajade)

180 degrees

2007-03-05T19:49:00.000-08:00

If everything in life comes around in a circle, then I am exactly at 180 degrees, the point where things start to turn around, and you continue on to the point where your journey began. It is a point of complete equilibrium, with exactly one half of the circle fully traversed, and the other half still left for what could be called my home run.

Imagine yourself to be in the middle of the mountains. Nothing but you, your path, and your destination. You strike out early in the day, confident that your trek will pleasant and your objective will be achieved by the afternoon. As you stop for a little break, you notice that the site you were camped at last night is still visible. Surely, you should have been over the ridge by now! You carry on. As the day progresses, your backpack gets heavier, your steps become slower, and the road seems longer than expected. You soldier on. As the sun passes overhead, and begins to slide slowly down to the west, You realise to your dismay that you are nowhere close to your destination. The pace hastens, and the risk increases. You stumble and fall, and begin to wonder if all of this was a good idea in the first place. Then, as soon as doubt has strangulated reason, you catch a glimpse of your target. You forget the pain and the fatigue, and quicken your pace, as the inviting valley opens up to your advancing footsteps. Soon, your steady trot has become a gallop, and your heart is filled with the utmost joy. Your body is tired and broken, but your soul has found salvation.

This is a feeling that only trekkers know and appreciate.

At this point, the day of my return is not clear. But, after all these months of living like a (Immigrant? non-Citizen? the unfamiliar 'other'?) I will be back!
My daydreams have taken on a new realism, and my thoughts are now more focused than ever on getting back to my life, my education and my career.

Restaurant Terminology

2007-02-26T09:38:00.002-08:00

The professionals among us know, and often abide by, the unwritten rules of language and etiquette prevalent in every sort of job. Every profession too, has its own set of terms and words that may confuse the casual onlooker. So, in an attempt to clear the air around some of the strange words we commonly use in a restaurant, here is a short primer-

1- Eighty-six, or 86'd - this is a term that is used to communicate among workers that a certain item, or a whole dish on the menu, is no longer available, not even in the raw, unprepared state from the deep freezer. It also means that a new batch of the said item will have to be delivered especially for the next day.

Common usage- 'we're 86 on the stuffed chicken!' or ' I've 86'd the beef skewers, no more orders for beef!'

2- cluster-fuck {Adj.} - obviously derived from the phrase 'Cluster-bombing'; made popular during recent years with the constant media attention towards the military tactics used in Afghanistan and Iraq, This is a catch-all phrase for describing a situation where everything has gone off wrong, resulting in returned dishes, dissatisfied guests, and confusion in the back-house areas. Also describes a day, where nothing could possibly get worse for the crew.

Common usage- "Tonight is a total cluster-fuck, dude!" "What a Cluster-Fuck, man!"

3-Nuke {Verb, Adj.} - To quickly cook any item with microwave energy, in a microwave oven. Often used along with the word for a particular item, especially for those items that are not meant to be cooked in a microwave in the first place.

Common usage- "Nuke the chicken, will ya?" "nuke mussels, please!" "nuked fondue is sold!"

4-Jizz, Juice, Spit {Noun, Verb} - The first word may have caught the attention of several prolific web-surfers. Rest assured, it carries a different meaning in the kitchen than the Internet would have led you to believe. These words are often used to describe liquids, such as sauces and creams. Lighter sauces often go by the term 'Spit', while the thicker sauces tend to be called 'Jizz'
Note- Readers, when you hear a cook talking about jizzing or spitting on a dish, please be assured that he is doing something totally hygienic and safe, not as these words would make you think.

5- Fly {Verb} - to "fly' a dish is to prepare the same with any means at hand, in the shortest possible timeframe. This often involves using unorthodox methods and common deception to make a dish look as normal as possible, in spite of being prepared in record time.

Common usage- " I need a fried chicken on the fly!!" " I'm flying this steak!"

Music - Rammstien - Amur Amur (Reise, Reise! - 2004)

Attendance by Proxy

2007-02-24T11:20:00.000-08:00

We finally received the DVD's of my cousin's wedding in the mail a few days ago. Thankfully, the package consisted of only 4 disks, instead of the 14 disks we received earlier, containing all the still pictures.

Indian Wedding videography has to be considered a form of documentary cinema, given that the camera is supposed to record every nuance, every face and every moment within the event. Miss one second-tier personage, performing some arcane rite or casually dropping an envelope of money into the bride's lap, and the poor cameraman will have to face the ire of both the families, as well as a considerable cut in his fees.

So, for the past couple of days, it has become my pastime to pop in one of the disks, plug in the headphones, fast-foward to the scenes of the ladies' sangeet, turn up the volume, and dance with abandon. I feel so disappointed not to have been a part of the celebrations, and I mildly envy all of those who were there.

Movie Review - Water

2007-02-22T21:53:00.000-08:00

Frankly, I don't see what all the hullabaloo was all about.

I can see no reason why some chauvinist fundamentalists had to go and trash a movie set, for the content of the piece is anything but controversial. Perhaps the setting and the depiction may be too realistic for those brought up on a steady diet of Bollywood. The story is set in times long past, and instead of realising that this sort of thing went on but is no more, some miscreants decided it was an affront to Hinduism.

The story, allegedly centered around the lives of Hindu widows in 1930's India, is more or less about the idealistic young lawyer, played by the John Abraham and The sublime Lisa Ray as the young widow who is forced by circumstance into a being a concubine for the rich and high-caste gentry in the vicinity; and their forbidden love. The free-spirited young child widow, is more or less the innocent bystander, who is steamrolled into the life of widowhood.

John Abraham really hit his personal acting goldmine when he signed up for this project. It is refreshing not to see Abraham straddling a Hayabusa, making teenyboppers in tube tops swoon as he races past. Lisa Ray looks luminous, but her acting is more or less tame.The Best bits however, are from the "bandit-queen" actress, Seema Biswas, who plays the widow who questions her faith and the life she leads in the face of the feisty child, and the relationship of the lawyer with the pretty widow. Khulbhushan Kharbanda manages to look inebriated even as a priest, in spite of the fine acting. How does he do it? { ;-) }
The background, set in Pre-independence India, provides a very rich background to the main story, and is beautifully tied into the climax, when everything is nicely wrapped up in a piece of khadi {again, ;-)}

overall, a touching movie, with notable performances and a fine love story.

Car pics!

2007-02-22T09:33:00.000-08:00

After much delay, here are some pictures of the car...I don't see the point of putting these up though, as this model is available in both North America and India...

OKTOBERFEST!!!

2007-02-21T21:50:00.000-08:00

With the ritual wrenching off the cap from a bottle of cold, icy ale with my molars, I hence declare my own private beer-fest open!

After deciding that chugging Heineken was akin to wearing the same pair of shorts over a week, I decided that it was time to expand my horizons in the field of the oldest fermented beverage known to man. So, I promised myself a different beer every time the six-pack in the fridge is exhausted.

Anyway, here is a list of the beers I have savoured, alongside a small review-

1. Heineken- The Stalwart. The Standard. The most popular beer in the world. I really do not need to say more, since almost everyone has tasted this beer, and I would like to get to the interesting ones.

2. Guinness- If Whiskey is the spirit of the Irish, Guinness is the life-blood. As soon as you open the bottle(and yes, you can get genuine draught Guinness in a cleverly-designed bottle and can) and pour the contents, you realise what ale is about. the dark, almost black liquid flows quietly, forming a head so confoundingly thick and stable, you constantly have trouble accessing the beer from under the foamy armour the the head forms. The flavour is very strong, by most standards, with a rich, smooth, smoky caramel essence, reminiscent of a very strong espresso. And like that venerable caffeine cluster-bomb, this is not a beer for casual chug-a-glugging, and it leaves a lasting impression on you. It tastes fine even when slightly warm, and that is just the thing for having next to you(apart from a comely wench) when going through endless games of pool with the boys.

3. Pilsner Urquell - Ladies and Gentlemen, Meet the original Lager beer. This was the first lager beer that gave us the clear golden liquid we all take for granted, and set the stage for the bifurcation of the beer world into the top-fermented(ales)beers and the bottom-fermented(lager) beers.

The bottle proclaims-"Discover how beer is meant to taste"

The taste is clear, precise and clean. None of the vagueness or dilution associated with lesser beers. The flavour is very hoppy, (What are Hops?) with a most pleasant, sweet, flowery aroma, that you may get only hints of in other beers, and an astringent, dry, and crisp feel on the tongue. The aroma, nay, the perfumed bouquet alone is to die for. Best enjoyed cool, but not chilled.

4. Amstel light- like the name suggests, a light beer. Not a beer I 'd fawn over, but still a good product. typical Heineken-ish taste, but with a slighty different bouquet. Maybe I should have not tried the Light version.

More Beers to come soon!

Music - A P O C A L Y P T I C A - Harmageddon

Waiting to Inhale

2007-02-20T09:21:00.001-08:00

Through the juxtaposition of St. Valentine's day with a busy weekend, I ended up working for six days at a stretch, non-stop. Needless to say, by the sixth day, I was getting a bit antsy about it all. I had a massive headache and a cranky neck, and to top it all off, I was supposed to be closing, which meant that I would be staying at the restaurant till late. We had been out shopping earlier in the day, and we went to Macy's(which mom insists on pronouncing as 'Massey', of the Massey-Ferguson tractor Co. fame) In pursuit of some nice blankets. there was a clearance sale on, and mom got a light quilt set and a nice polyester(ech!)blanket. I insisted upon her to not buy anything for my bed, but, as my headache grew worse during the night, I decided that a good bed was in order.

So, as soon as the floors were scrubbed free of the grease and the drains cleaned, I headed down to the 24-hour Wal-mart and got myself a rather expensive Pneumatic mattress, complete with memory foam top and electric air pump. And for the first time in months, I slept really well.

That is not to say that I am unable to sleep on floors. It's just that the lack of any cushioning makes the whole affair a bit crude, and the simple, cotton filled Gaddas that you can buy in India for as little as $5 are not available here.

My Bloody Valentine

2007-02-14T22:54:00.000-08:00

Who came up with the Idea of converting St. Valentine birthday into this melange of gift-buying, going out for dinner and later, maybe, perhaps, if things work out, getting into bed? Hand me my elephant gun, for the perpetrator is asking for a dose of soft lead in his arse.

So, as it was the cursed day, we were expecting a heavy rush. But at the end of the day, we had served a staggering total of over one thousand and seven hundred people. That is not a heavy rush. That, ladies and gentlemen, is the gates of hell opening up in a kitchen. My station, the Grill, was so heavily loaded, that I needed the backing of two additional people to get the orders done. every now and then, the POS screen was filled with sixteen or seventeen orders, each going out in a different direction. I wasn't stuck in the weeds. It was quicksand. 5 T-bones, 6 skewers, a few dozen filets and other stuff in the fryer baskets is too much for one guy, especially if that sort of situation will last all evening, without a pause.

Thankfully, the Chef was able to bail me out, and I was able to perform even under the tremendous pressure, without ever needing to raise my voice, or losing my cool. That, for me, is the milestone I have had in my mind for a while. A lot of people out there are faster than me, but for the most, the speed comes at the cost of losing their calm, which always leads to problems, and often slows others down. I realise what a valuable asset a calm mind can be when things are getting rough. Other people are more likely to help a guy who is trying his best and not making a fuss about it, rather than a person who is spewing venom.

Music - N.F.A.K - Woh utha rahe hain Pardah , Halka Halka Saroor

The Mad Hatter

2007-02-14T07:00:00.000-08:00

As it is with most new cars, the Accord developed a few niggling quirks over the last two days, such as a propensity to pull to the right side, and an annoying buzz emanating from the door panels. Nobody likes to hear buzzes and rattles in a new car, so I drove down to the Honda dealership and requested a checkup.

Now, car service in the U.S is quite difficult to get used to for a guy who likes to caress and talk his vehicle through the ordeal. they take your keys, put you in a room and drive your car to parts unknown for the procedures. Because of this, I had a few hours to kill, so I asked the salesperson who sold me the car to get me a temporary means of transport. He obliged by handing me the keys to a large Honda Odyssey van.

I decided to go down to a large Multiplex-cum-Sears-cum-Macy's-cum-JCPenney-cum-numerous other stores-shopping mall, since they usually have free Wireless around there. There, I proceeded to waste my money on several things such as food court cuisine, and a personalised hat, the image of which you see here...

I think the message on the chapeau speaks for itself. It is our way of saying 'how are you, brother?' and also serves as an efficient ice-breaker in many social conditions.

this kind of stuff can be done at the ridiculous price of $20 and up at a chain of stores called 'Lids', that specialize in caps, beanies, hats(but dont expect them to stock a fedora or a top hat) and the ability to create a custom hat with your own logo. A lot of guys wear hats with the 941 area code embroidered onto them, so I thought 0172 might be a good thing to have on a hat. As I debated and played with Illustrator over a 'gourmet' food court meal, I came up with this. It really stood out among the other things I came up with, mostly centering around the Punjab/Chandigarh/Sardar psyche, such as-'Sardar Inside', 'Surdey' , 0172, and so on. I thought this was probably the best of all.

Cellphones of the future

2007-02-11T20:19:00.000-08:00

Browsing around YouTube, I found these cool videos from Nokia, showing some concepts and ideas for the next generation of cellular devices...worth the look just for the slick production work...

I look at the ideas these guys are coming up, and then I look at the iPhone... which seems like it is designed with only the niche markets in mind, where style and one-upmanship matters more than substance; since I am willing to bet that those crafty Koreans will give us Asians the same thing at less than half the price.

In a lighter vein, there is also an advert for the 'Sumsing Turbo 3000 Xi multitask' Uberphone- a parody(in German, i think.)

2007-02-10T23:06:00.000-08:00

Guess whose car this is???

On living in Squalor

2007-02-06T14:56:00.000-08:00

Now, don't get me wrong here. It is not as if We are on the brink of poverty here in the U.S, but by all standards, our existence in America as of now is going along the lines of what I would call 'necessary minimalism'

If comfort is to be gauged by the number of material possessions that aid our life and make it more comfortable, we are somewhere between sliding down a razor on your balls and having a drop of hot oil explode on your hand. But then, you may say, what are material comforts, but the things that you are made to think you need but do not actually need in order to live a comfortable life.

Mom, driven by a very understandable need to feel at home in this land, is expressing her concerns by proposing to buy various kinds of home furniture, a venture that I veto every time she brings it up. It is true that we own only 3 pieces of furniture, an old 4-seat dining table that serves as computer table, ironing board, writing desk and general cluttering area; along with a drawer chest and a flimsy bookcase. We do not own beds, and we sleep on the floor, which is fine by me, given that the ceiling is only 2.3 meters/8 feet high, and lying on the floor gives me a sense of space. My own room is threadbare, the only bit of furniture being the aforementioned flimsy bookcase. I do not clean up my room often, and I let the deitritus of my life, such as computer wipes, chocolate wrappers(food obsession of the moment) apple cores and banana peels lie about. I have no pride in my room, and I do not decorate it in any way. I consider it to be mainly a sort of holding cell, a storage for my tired body for the night, and a container for all the things that I do possess. It has no soul, no memories, it's walls have heard no secrets whispered, and I see it as a waste of time and effort to infuse life into this cardboard box of a room. It is for these reasons that I always manage to dissuade mom from trying to settle down into a life of three-seater sofas and upholstered chairs. I really hate to selfishly shoot down my mother's recurring ideas about buying some more furniture, but I do so also because I know what a precarious financial position we are in, and despite the fact that there are considerable savings lying in bank accounts, I can foresee that this period of difficulty will not pass soon, and the costs of living are only going to rise. The only possible break I can estimate is the hope that Pop will be able to find a job here soon, and thus contribute to the household income. By that time, my time here will have drawn to an end, and my parents will be able to chase the dream of a better life unfettered by my rootlessness.

Rootlessness is the perfect word to describe my condition. In the span of five months, I have not forged one lasting friendship, or casual friendship, or any interest of the romantic sort. I have not let the essence of Americana infuse into me, mainly because you need to have social contact in order to do that. I do not know my neighbour's name, and I have not come up with any sound reason to stay in America, save for the fact that I can make more money here by working 5 days a week, than a month in India. It could be said that I have deliberately decided not to break soil and sprout new buds, but in my defence, It is so because I see no reason to do so when I know I have to go back to India in a few months. My existence here is buoyed only by taking comfort in the scraps of my earnings that I have saved, and the role that this meagre sum will play in my later life.

That, and the fact that you can buy some really high-quality hand tools and knives (the focal point of my non-essential expenditure) over here.

Music - AIR-mike mills, AIR-venus (from the album AIR - Talkie Walkie)

Now in blazing Techicolor!

2007-02-05T09:36:00.000-08:00

Finally, I can grasp what every foreign tourist from the Americas and Europe means when they exclaim how colourful India is. Most of the times, I assumed they were talking about the colour of the mud and the dust, or the various shades of cowdung encountered on the roads.

Recently, my Brother and my S.I.L visited the Kila Raipur rural Olympics, which are held every year around this time in an attempt to vent and channel some of that energy that Punjabis seem to hold in excess. Thanks to the miracle of the internet, I was able to see the many fine pictures taken. One particular shot of the audience dressed in their finest carnival wear, struck me as the reason why this sentiment runs so high in most people not born in the lifelong Mela that is India.

Whenever I happen to stroll through a shopping mall, I always see the same women's and men's clothiers, such as Ann Taylor, Petite Sophisticate, Brooks Brothers and their ilk. And without fail, they are always stocked with merchandise in colours such as-Puke tan, faeces brown, algae green, stool sepia, scum grey, and their variations as well as the standard-issue white and black.
I swear, I once chanced upon a store that seemed to be carrying all their stuff in only one colour, besides the regular black and white. It looked as if the Supreme Soviet had suddenly decreed that the People's Textile mills nos. 234 to 567 will produce material only in Standard colour No. 17.

Agreed, the clothes were of excellent design and of an incredible fit, but come on. How can you sell every woman a skirt of the same colour? It's impossible. Women need clothes that are unique, personal and to their taste, in a way that the dress becomes an extension of their personality. How can something so drab, like the universal bark-coloured trouser reflect the bewildering difference of nature between each woman's personality? Most men would be understandably content to dress in denim or khaki, but I think it's criminal to constrain women's fashion with such horrible colours in spite of the great design.

So when you are born in a world of mud-coloured textiles, I would expect nothing less than absolute shock when these guys see the insane variety of colours I used to take for granted.

Music - Prince/the artist formerly known as Prince - Pussy Control, DaRude - Rush

Battle Skars

2007-02-02T22:17:00.000-08:00

After searing my arms and the tips of my fingers for the umpteenth time, I decided that the time had come to start taking care of the chunks of rotting meat that my forearms had become. First off, I decided to let go of my rasta-esque philosophy of believing that the wounds would heal by themselves(of course they will, but must I live with tender flesh and open sores?) In addition, I purchased some high-quality Hand Creme, containing ingredients such as beeswax and almond milk, in a base of kaolin clay; that smells like marzipan...yummy. A good departure from the usual glycerin and mineral-oil based goop.

For those of you who think that I am taking this burnt-at-the-steak thing too far, here's a picture showing just one of my forearms... and the marks obtained from contact with several, but not all sorts of kitchen equipment.
The overall lack of hair has been caused by the repeated waxing effect of the gas burners. Note that the large welt in the middle is in an advanced stage of healing, which means that it does not ooze a clear fluid anymore. The rest of the marks are of the here-today, gone tomorrow type, meaning that I have burn marks over older burn marks.

Interestingly, the current configuration, looks to me like a sort of smiley face, with a rather fat chin.

Music-Rammstein - Stein Und Stein, Mann GayGen Mann

So, where you from?

2007-01-29T20:08:00.000-08:00

At the height of the dinner rush today, amidst the flurry of pizza and artichoke dip orders popping up on my screen and the ever- emptying bread box that I had to refill, I came to the shocking realization, that I was surrounded by white people.

sure, there was the odd Hispanic person here and there, but overall, there was a huge concentration of white folk around me. For some strange reason, on this particular day, not any other day, but this day only, I temporarily became a xenophobe.

I have been living and interacting(though in an extremely limited manner) with Americans, mostly white Americans for quite a while now. The task of communicating with a person form across a counter is quite easily accomplished. I'm perfectly at ease when when I inform a curious fellow where I come from, and he respond, in all seriousness, 'oh, man, you got all those taleban guys holed up over there, don'tcha?'

I'm also rather collected when someone takes me for a Mexican or Puerto Rican, or basically a person of Hispanic background. I do also end up looking like a complete moron, when someone gives me a rapid-fire monologue in Spanish. Of course, in the end, the joke is on them, as I calmly reply, 'Ne habla Espanol', or for more effect, ' I'm sorry, but I don't speak Spanish'

Things get a bit off-course when I meet a person with some Original American ancestry. If I simply describe myself as "Indian"; I am presented with a full genetic roadmap of that person's lineage, which can go on for a while, I avoid cutting in as the stories are usually interesting; but as soon as he or she finish and ask me for the history of my own ancestors, I respond with a polite, 'Ahem, I think you misunderstood me'. This, of course, leads to some embarrassment, but I come out of it without a blemish.

Evangelists, once they discern that I am not hispanic, always assume me to be a pagan Hindu, and ask several questions about what my religion is. I always end up sending them into a muddle of various religious ideals, citing examples from Islam, Sikhism, Buddhism, Sufi and Bhakti mysticism and others. At a loss for words, they refer to the good book, and read out a passage someone wrote in Constantinople, and re-wrote in England, imploring me to embrace Jesus, and so on, casting aside my alleged theological beliefs, and get a guaranteed reservation to heaven and such. I love to mess with these guys.

Taxi drivers always seem to have an inclination to heartily discuss weighty matters such as politics or international terrorism with me, and love to hear my opinion of North Korea's nuclear program, Iran's necktie-hating president, and so on. If there is an excess of anything here, it has to be Public opinion. Everybody has a stand on some issue or the other, regardless of what knowledge they may or may not have of the matter. This phenomena, although great in its own way, is like static on the radio waves. Makes it hard to separate the wheat from the chaff.

I am yet to encounter an overtly hostile person out here, and thankfully, most of the jeers and taunts come from individuals whom I will probably never run into again, such as inebriated youngsters in the dad's BMW 6-series convertible out for a ride, or people in unkempt clothes and battered pick-up trucks, Rednecks, I believe, is the term.

January 26th

2007-01-25T17:51:00.000-08:00

As all of us in India stay at home and avoid venturing out onto the roads, because there are 'Islamofascists' out there with IED's strapped to their bodies, and security is tighter than the cop's ass who has to stand out there in the cold and wait for the unthinkable, and pray for it all to end without incident; We come to a startling thought- have we have become so used to the presence of fully armed policemen with flak armour and sub-machine guns around every corner, that we may be already under a militaristic rule, and we just don't know it?

that, for the most part, is far from the truth, leaving aside those pesky northeasterners and kashmiris, whom the general Indian populace continues to keep out of their conscience, and continues to call 'chinky' or 'mullah' or whatever.

But the fact remains, we have been living under the shadow of the gun for over two decades now, and we have been bullied and coerced into accepting the presence of riot-control brigades and .303 slinging policemen through the years. And we seem to be okay with it.

I have rather sketchy memories of growing up under the fear of terrorism, when my home state was in the throes of a self-destructing war with itself, and the citizen was the one who could be crushed either under the heel of a power-crazy cop, or the rifle butt of a terrorist. I still remember the time when my school was specifically targeted upon, because our school's uniform included skirts for girls. For a brief period, our uniform code was changed to suit the fundamentalists's views. Now I look upon what the Taliban did to the women of Afghanistan, and I think, we were headed down the same path. We were that close. Thankfully, we never got to the point of where the Islamic Caliphate of Afghanistan (1997-2002) had reached.
There used to be sandbagged bunkers at every entry and exit into the city where I lived, and soon there would be watchtowers, some of which still exist(though not equipped with a LMG and a pair of sentries, like those times) Random stops of traffic, blackouts at seven PM, stories of terrorist abductions and police torture, these are the memories of anybody who lived through the eighties and the early nineties. We lived in a city, that was next to the state capital, so we were relatively safe. the situation in the villages was such- Don't come home before dark, and it could be assumed that you were either in an interrogation cell somewhere, or were running an errand for the terrorists, under the threat of certain death to you and your entire family.

I feel fortunate not to have lived through those times in the shoes of those who were older than me. Which brings me to my second question- How much of our personal liberty are we willing to sacrifice in order to ensure that someone does not detonate a few kilos of RDX next to you?

In the USA, where personal freedom is held in the highest regard, this is a highly debated issue. There is much protest in society about the means the current administration is using to fight terror at home. The general opinion is heavily favoured towards preserving the citizens' personal freedom. As a non-citizen, this stance is amusing for me, coming from a place where you are routinely frisked and your bags opened before you board a metro train. After all, the one minute of total freedom that you are denied also gives you the freedom from the fear of a backpack bomber blowing himself up in a crowded bogey. In today's world, it's a price i'm be willing to pay.
What seems okay to a guy like me, may be a cataclysmic breach of personal freedom for any American (or for that matter, anybody) who likes to live in a bubble.
The allegations that these means could be abused are not unfounded. If someone deliberately fondles your scrotum or your breast while frisking you, that is real abuse of power. Of course, frisking is only one part of the whole set-up. Things become very complicated when matters like phone taps and surveillance come into play. The official position is- If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to worry about. This position could also allegedly give cover to unscrupulous agencies or persons using whatever information they have on you for personal gain. It's hard to draw a line between what is legal and what is not, and this defining process cannot be fast-tracked, avoided or omitted.
I cannot say how far the Citizens of India will let the government go in the arena of anti-terrorism and counterintelligence. Could it be that we are already so under the cloud, that we cannot see the true position of things, to rephrase my first question?

Don't try this at home.

2007-01-22T18:47:00.000-08:00

The last three days on the job, I have been working as the relief saute man on the line, and many a times, I have had to step in and take over the whole line with seven pans spitting and bubbling at the same time. It's an organizational nightmare, trying to keep track of the state of each pan on the flame, and correctly judging when it's ready to get the next ingredient, and periodically glancing at the POS terminal screen to see what's coming my way, and getting the pans ready for the next wave of orders.

Of course, such matters leave little room in your mind for things like your appearance, language, physical comfort and stress. It also keeps your mind diverted from the fact that little by little, you are also cooking your own body, as well as whatever is frying away in the saute pan. The bursts of fire that result from an ounce of wine or a few droplets of oil burning on direct contact with the plasma of gas coming from below continually sear your face, sometimes touching the brim of your baseball cap, an event that puts common sense to work, and makes you wisely wear your cap backwards. As your reach across the burners to ladle some sauce into your searing-hot pan, a pillar of intense heat cuts across your bare forearms, instantly wilting each strand of hair. Stay in that position long enough, pondering if you put in enough sauce, and the heat will give your entire arm a nice waxed appearance, with an extra dollop of agony thrown in just for fun.

A grill and an oven give off this invisible, intense heat that makes their presence felt at a distance. You try to avoid any contact between your flesh and the radiant surfaces, because you can still see the marks from the last time the two of you met. A deep-fat fryer is like a mirage of apparent calm, the illusion dissipating with the immersion of a cold, wet item into the pool, which results in a display of arrogant rage, the liquid spitting and sputtering in a fit of fury. With a gas range, the heat comes at you like the thrusts from a skilled fencer, hitting a tender spot each time, until you learn all its tricks, or just become impervious to the dance of the flames below. With my arms extending over the gas burners for a few seconds every now and then, I have estimated that over the course of a regular working day, I voluntarily roast my appendages for a combined period of about a minute everyday. In about a week's time, I should be cooked to a nice Roti au bleu (rare) degree. Just the way Dr. H.Lecter prefers it.

Gravy, anyone?

Music- Gioachino Rossini-The barber of Seville-Ouverture (1989 Zagreb music festival, Croatia)
Igor Stravinsky- The Firebird-finale (BRT Philharmonic, Brussels, 1990)

Busy, busy, busy...

2007-01-20T07:45:00.000-08:00

Friday night is probably the most suitable night to to go out and have fun. Everybody knows that the next day is Saturday, and they don't have to get up early and go to work, or to school or whatever. It is the one night of the week that gives people the most succour in the fact that they can do whatever the hell comes to their mind, because tomorrow will be a holiday,and they will be answerable to no one.

It was this sentiment that sent droves of diners to the restaurant last night. Over a period of just under 2 hours, we had fed close to five hundred people. by the end of the day, we had served over one thousand people.

Now that's not a very big number, one might say. 1000-strong marriage parties are commonplace in India, and many of them go through without a hitch. But these are events that are predicted and prepared for well in advance, with all the food and service essentials already in place before the guests arrive. Now, in a restaurant, it's a little different. Say a 25-seater suddenly descends out of nowhere, and most of them decide to try out the grilled skewers or steaks. Somewhere in the annals of the restaurant, a grill man screams in horror. Suppose there is a four-top, and they're all rather picky, so each guest orders a totally different dish. Time for the assembly man to get busy. It's Crazy...

And yet, I survived.

It is good to know, that you can work with the ones who have been doing this for years, without slowing them down.

P.S- In a related incident, my bicycle was nicked from right outside the restaurant last night.

On a 80's trip

2007-01-16T13:13:00.000-08:00

For some reason, I have started to develop a taste for those crazy pop hits of the Eighties, devoting a good share of my time to musicians such as Cindi Lauper, Eurythmics, Tears for Fears and the evergreen Phil Collins(OK, Cindi lauper was overkill...won't be downloading any more of her work.)

I have also purchased a new pair of headphones, not because the old Philips ones were shot, but because I was getting rather tired of them, with those large spongy earpads that make my ears itch, and all the duct tape and Araldite used to keep the thing in one piece. They still sound great, and to some extent, Better than the new Sony ones, especially in the higher frequency bands. And that's why I won't be tossing those in the trash anytime soon. The Sony ones are lighter, smaller, and more comfortable, and I think the sound will improve marginally with the increased use of the transducers.

I will greatly appreciate it if anybody could send me a playlist of their favourite 80's numbers...I know a lot of the tunes from that era, but I need the names so I can download them.

In other music related news, I found a twin CD set of Chopin, in mint condition, for a dollar-fifty at Goodwill, alongside Green day's American Idiot. I also bought a used DVD of Deepa Mehta's 'Water', not available in India; at a great used CD's/DVD's store. The best thing about optical media is, if handled with due diligence and care, it will not wear out like a tape, so it has a decent resale value. And a lot of people are buying into the theory of digital music files, copying their CD's onto monstrous hard drives, and selling off the original discs to clear up some cabinet space, so guys like me can buy them at reasonable prices, which is stupid of them, but all the better for me.
Agreed, most of the discs you find at such stores are so insipid, you would be too embarrassed to use them even as coasters. A lot of this junk is by bulk-production acts such as Britney Spears and extinct boy-bands. But if you look a little carefully, and you may find the occasional gem within the detritus.

Music - Scorpions-Rock you like a Hurricane

Screwing with our holy cows

2007-01-15T16:56:00.000-08:00

As is my habit, I was flying through the internet, when I came across a controversial YouTube video, depicting M.K Gandhi as a pole dancer.
This hellraiser video has attracted the attention of the Government of India, which in its characteristic hamfisted manner, also seen in places like Kashmir or the northeast, seeks to ban the entire YouTube website, just like it tried to ban Blogging sites last year(unsuccessfully)

The funniest part about the whole thing is the comments that people have left for the performer at the page. Ironic how a man who helped free the nation through non-violence and passive resistence inspires such crude violence, such as the examples below-

He should be called terrorist.This person should be brought back to india and approriate action should be taken against him.He is very much influcenced by American Goras.I am sure the sangh pariwar, BJP,RSS must be enjoying watching this clip.Hope Indians wake up this time atleast.

you will die in hell dude

I think, he should be brought to India and thoroughly fucked....

He should be castigated..

beta! galti se kabhi jindagi mein bharat mat aana, sacchi tereko bhadva banaake mumbai dance bars mein nachayenge teri jindagi bhar.

wish i could cut u into little pieces motthafukka...how dare u to do the insult to our Father of nation...making fun of our MAHATMA in the whole world who brought freedom to our nation...u son of a pig....May God kill you my friend...die mothha fukka...

madarchod teri maa ka bhosda,randi ki aulad....gautam madarjaat prasad...teri maa chudegi,behen ke laude... capon's seed

it is only too obvious that the 'artist' in the video is desperately trying to gain publicity. Nothing gets the world's attention like someone else's stupidity. The Indian media has displayed its extraordinary immaturity and opportunist nature by actually showing the clip. I don't recall the BBC or CNN or any news agency displaying the incendiary cartoons of prophet Muhammad, and egging on our very touchy Muslim bretheren.

Personally, I think we Indians give M.K.G far too much credit when it comes to the freedom struggle. I find it offending to the spirit and the sacrifice of the hundreds of freedom fighters, revolutionaries, educationists and reformers who all contributed to the birth of the nation over one hundred and fifty years of struggle. It's not as if Gandhi alone was the man who gave us freedom from the already exhausted Britons.

And are we really free? We have achieved nothing, but exchanged imperial stewardship for a permanent state of war with the people who used to be our fellow countrymen less than sixty years ago.

We still have no freedom from the fear that inspires terrorism.

Of course, freedom of speech and all that is great, but have we come to such a point that nothing but the most controversial and the most offending will arouse us? Do we need to pay attention to the morons of this world?

Music- Amar Arshi - Kala Chachmma

you know you're busy when...

2007-01-14T17:07:00.000-08:00

Have you ever been so busy that you forgot whether you were wearing boxers or briefs?

Today was my turn at the appetizers and pizza section, and boy, was I on my toes. No breaks, except for the trip to the restroom, where I was confounded by the type of undies I was sporting.
I got so busy, that while keeping my eyes and right hand focused on the task of arranging the breadsticks, I had to mentally countdown exactly 45 seconds, before the calamari frying in the grease turned to rubber and remember the pizza that I had placed in the oven 7 minutes ago, alongwith the fondue that takes 8 minutes; and catch the cup of demiglace the fry man had just slid down the line with my left hand and pop it in the microwave for 30 seconds, and then fetch the garlic seasoning for the breadsticks, sprinkle it on the bread, keep it back, and then stretch over with my left hand again and pick up the tomato concasse after passing the fry man his heated demiglace.

Confused?

Music- Rahat Fateh Ali Khan - Man ki lagan

Saturday-grill/fry man

2007-01-14T04:31:00.000-08:00

yesterday was my turn to stop being an observer and get into the thick of it all. I was stationed on the grill and the deep-fat-fryer, and since the day was Saturday, we were expecting a lot of late lunches, therefore, a constant flow of orders coming in all day.

Needless to say, that did'nt happen. The thing about line cooking is how you could be standing around, arms akimbo, while your mate at the saute or the salad station looks like he could use as many arms as a member of the Hindu pantheon. There's not much you can do to help him, especially if you know bollocks about his station. You'll just get in his way. The worst thing is, the situation could turn out the worst for you any second as well.

I had a steady stream of orders coming in, (think Queen and David Bowie) when all of a sudden, my computer let out a longish wail, and announced a screen filled with crazy orders. (think Cannibal Corpse) I had to cook off things that took 15 minutes on the grill and 3 minutes in the fryer and 7 minutes in the oven and so on in one go.
surprisingly, my heart did not sink, even when the sous-chef looked at my screen and offered a sympathetic look. I took it all on, and I got it all done. Not as perfectly as the older guys, not as fast, but still good.

It is a good sign, when you don't feel like a total blithering idiot at the end of the day, and you are satisfied with the way you performed.

P.S - the restaurant offers employees the option of eating in the establishment for half the price, and day before yesterday, I decided to luncheon there after my work was done. All I can say about the food is, that I felt like I had swallowed a portion of vomit-inducing rubber. OG is definitely THE place to go if your idea of Italian food is something so overly seasoned, and so saturated with cheese, fat and salt, you can feel it coming out of your pores.

Music-Gustav Holst-The Planets suite - Mercury, the winged messenger

Day one- Line cook

2007-01-11T19:16:00.001-08:00

Today was my fist day at the O.G restaurant, and as I walked into this new unfamiliar space, a familiar uneasiness that I had felt before, on my first day of work at morton's; came back. Here I was again, starting all over, in this new environment, with out any leads, clues or hints, nothing but instinct.

And it was my instinct that clicked today. for the first time since the happy days in Maurya, I felt a connection to the work that I was going to do. It felt like a whole bunch of dendrons, long dormant, had suddenly woken up and started firing synapses like never before. the work was methodical, precise, organised and fast. The place was not even up to full speed, and I was overwhelmed by the synchronization that was the order of the kitchen. No wonder my trainer called it 'Information Overload day'

bottomline- I enjoyed it. It finally felt like I was in a kitchen, and seeing the results of a few tosses in the pan, a few dunks in the boiler and a few moments on the grill come together on the plate before my very eyes in a matter of mere minutes was inspiring.

Of course, I say this now. As I said before, a job can be the best thing in your life for a week, and then become a form of voluntary torture the next. Wait till they have me on the line on a weekend. Questions remain- Am I strong enough? Am I Fast enough?
there was a question on the new employees questionnaire that I had filled out at morton's- What would have to happen in order for you to look back and say, 'this is the best I ever had?' I remember filling out- 'I would have to exceed my expectations' as the reply. I did not get to exceed anybody's expectations back there, but I hope I will be able to go beyond myself here, and expand my threshold.

Keeping my fingers crossed

2007-01-10T06:57:00.000-08:00

As scheduled daybefore yesterday, I went down to the new place I had applied to for a job. The preliminary meeting with the restaurant manager had gone down well with me, and now I was going to meet the general manager.

As soon as I walked in, I realised that getting a job here would not be a cakewalk at all. There was actually competition for whatever posts were vacant. This dampened my spirits somewhat, but I still thought it was best to present myself in the best possible manner. The meeting with the GM lasted for a good 15 minutes, and we talked more about my former workplace, and the reasons I was no longer employed there. After feeding her some bullshit about how morton's was not the kind of environment I had envisioned, she helpfully offered the reasoning that they usually slow down to a crawl after the holidays, and I took up the tether and rounded up my position with the viewpoint she helpfully suggested. Not to say that was being dishonest, morton's had really slowed down since christmas, and that may be considered as the main economic reason behind my dismissal.

Anyway, the GM said that she would talk things over with the Restaurant manager, and decide by 3 or 4 pm today...so I'm keeping my fingers crossed and hoping for the best.

Reporting from Palm Beach

2007-01-08T17:53:00.000-08:00

After my unfortunate and untimely firing, I was really depressed. To lighten things up, we decided to forge on ahead with our plans to go meet my aunt at THE Palm Beach you've all heard of. She owns a condominium right on the beach on this little island off the mainland, accessible by a road bridge. We had rented a little red Chevy Cobalt(which, by the way, takes approximately half an hour to downshift when you floor the accelerator pedal) and after Googling the directions, we set off, my first excursion on the American Interstate system. It had been about 4 months since I had driven a car, that too on the left(right) side of the road, so I was unsure if I could get us there in one piece. Accordingly, I had picked up the car a couple of days earlier to rouse my dormant driving skills.

Anyway, I drove down an undivided County road, for about 240 kilometres(150 miles) before I realised that we had overshot our turn by about 30-odd miles. The good thing about this part of the USA is the density of the road network. So this blunder did cost me a good 90 minutes extra time, but we eventually hit our target freeway and motored down at an average pace of 120 kph(80 mph)all the way into West Palm Beach.

my aunt's condo, being so close to the beach, enabled some decent beach photography(don't get your hopes up...not a single pretty person was to be seen)

The moonrise at high tide, taken from the balcony at a +2.0 overexposure at 400 ISO; and the three stages of sunrise, all within 4 minutes of blazing colour and light.

Later that day, we drove around West Palm Beach, admiring the Spanish-influenced architecture of the various mansions that are liberally sprinkled all over the place, and walked down Worth Street, known as the shopping destination for the rich and famous. The downtown area was really picturesque, and since we forgot to carry our digital camera, we have nothing to show for it. But don't fret, just imagine a watered-down Barcelona(minus Gaudi) and you'll get the idea...it's really amusing when America tries to put on European airs about itself, as if it's trying too hard to be these places, and not itself. The good thing about Sarasota is that it does not have that forced European look, and has a contemporary flavour mixed in with its default Spanish-inspired architecture, which works just fine.

So after Two nights spent just two kilometres away from Jack Nicholson's villa, the high-life experience was over, and it was time to go back. This time too, we got a little lost, and had to do some frantic searching on the map to determine our location. All in all, we got back safe and sound, refreshed after three months of the monotonous work-sleep-eat routine.

Sorry, Puneet...

2007-01-07T13:09:00.000-08:00

Never, ever, get too comfortable with the way things are.

Life has a funny way of catching you unawares at the most crucial of times, hitting you with the force of a sledgehammer in the face. You start to think that things are finally going your way, when all of a sudden, something you did not even consider possible happens.

Here's the story-

All was well with the universe when reached work on friday morning. It was payday, and the troubles of the past week were behind me. At about 3 PM, I was told to come for a meeting. That's when it hit me. I was getting fired. All the signs had been there from the past week, and far beyond that as well. I was just oblivious to them...The chefs meeting with the management, and her repeated statements that food cost was way too high, the quiet silences that would settle over when I was present, and the problems I chose to ignore- My minor yet frequent clashes with the sous-chef, mostly a result of misunderstanding, my crude relationship with the other pastry cook, my general incompetence and performance, and the simmering discontent that had settled in like the mist over a backwater on a cold winter morning.

As I walked into the manager's room, I was readying myself for it. He was calm, courteous and professional(how the hell else do you behave when you're firing someone?) and informed me that there were certain 'adjustment' issues, and that I was not getting along well with the rest of the crew, and in this light, he'd have to let me go. I responded by saying that I knew of the 'adjustment' issues(a synonym for "they hate my guts") and asked a few cursory questions about my pending salary and so on. Both the chefs were present in the room, eyes averted and silent, letting the manager do their talking. As I left his office, the chef muttered a characteristically dispassionate "sorry, Puneet"; and I did not even look back. I jaunted out, and took off.

Hate is the easiest emotion to cultivate. It comes from the smallest things, and compounds itself with every little flash in the pan, every disagreement and every moment of forced silence, when I wanted to holler. This hate grew in the hearts of my former colleagues, and it culminated in this event, when it boiled over onto the flame. The fact is, I was never a part of them. Surely, we both tried to get along, but we were both looking at different things, and judging our actions in a discriminatory manner. I should have realised long ago, that the same social rules that existed between them did not apply to me. I was outside the inner circle and different from them. No matter how hard these people try, most of them are hardwired with this discriminatory apparatus; and they may not even be aware of it. I don't blame them. It's just the way they are...

And Hate was the first emotion in my heart as I left the kitchens behind. I was filled with Hate, bitter and sharp. I felt betrayed and abused. As time went on, I realised that this was not going to affect any of them, and it would instead affect me. I can't hate someone for being who they are. It's their own little world, they could now do as they please, and I was free of the boulder I had placed on my heart in order to continue working at this place where I really did not want to be, but had to because it was a good job.

And what is a good job? Is it one in which you make lots of money doing something you're good at? Is it something you do for fun, money be damned? is it something you do just to earn more and more money and nothing else? or is it a little bit of everything? The definition of a 'Good Job' is very fluid, a job can be the best thing in your life for a week, and then become a form of voluntary mental torture that you choose to endure because you're still employed(and thus comfortable) and you're proud of the work that you do.

It was because I chose to suppress my discontent, that this dismissal hurts. Voicing my issues with them could have got me fired faster, and could have resulted in lesser parting pains. But because I was too full of myself, and had my head up in the clouds, that really pissed them off. They could not stand me and I was blind to that.

A friend of mine has confessed to me on a few occasions, that when he first met me, he despised me, listing all of the aforesaid characteristics as the Raison d'etre. But all of that disappeared within the space of a month, and I had made a new friend, and I'm so grateful that he saw beyond my general brazenness and misbehaviour and connected with me.

I have realised that people like that don't come along very often, and you cannot look for that level of Camaraderie, that sort of fraternity, and that intensity of friendship in just about any person. There is a word for this sort of relationship. It's called Yaari...

2007-01-04T16:05:00.000-08:00

A recent story in the Indian Express online edition caught my attention, the story about the lynching and subsequent death of one Stephen Bennett, in a remote village in the Roha district of Maharasthra. That, and the gruesome discovery of human remains in a drain in NOIDA, uncovering the sickening story of an alleged master and servant kidnap-rape-murder double team. While the latter story seems to be a clear case of apathy and corruption, it's the first that is more interesting.
The facts about the act of murder commited are clear, as the accused are already in custody, and have confessed. The real mystery lies in the circumstances that brought the unfortunate Mr. Bennett to Malsai village at 5 AM in the morning.

The facts, as presented by the media, are thus- Bennett was enroute to Mumbai from Goa on the train, when there was an unscheduled stop at Roha and Bennett disembarked from the train. For some unfathomable reason, he decided to walk some 5 kilometers into Malsai and into the arms of a lynch mob.

But wait, there's more- Bennett disembarked on the 7th, and he was found hanging from a tree on the 11th. What exactly he was doing there for three days is a mystery.

It could be expounded that the poor fellow just got off at the wrong station, but then why did he have to stick around for three days in the middle of nowhere? There is no word about his possessions, save his wallet, which was found on his person. Did he just get off the train to catch a breath of fresh air, only to have the train pull off, with his baggage still inside??

Obviously not. If this would have been the case, he could have informed the station staff about the situation, but that does not seem to be the case. It seems he just got off with all he had and decided to stay put. Why?
could it be, that he was so captivated by the scenes of the countryside, that he felt a tug on his heartstrings, or he had the desire to see an authentic Indian village or something, and get away from it all, expand his mind, go primitive and experience a down to earth life?
Having had his fill, he thought that it wasn't inappropriate to ask a lone woman at five in the morning how to get to the train station, only to be mistaken for an attacker?
Could it be that this guy was so addled with the various substances one can obtain under the table in places like Goa, and simply did not know what he was doing?

In any case, it was the wrong place at the wrong time. The poor villagers, some of them who may have never seen a white man, responded with the most basic emotion in our toolbox-fear. Fear always begets anger, and In the face of danger, mankind loses the ability to think as an individual and begins to act along a common mental streak- the ignition point of a mob. After the flame has been lit, a lone defenceless man has absolutely no chance of survival. The mob demands blood and flesh, since the ability to judge the crime and impart an equal punishment has evaporated long since.

It is unfortunate and unfair that Stephen Bennett had to pay the price.

Inane list no. 2

2007-01-03T18:44:00.000-08:00

Things I used to hate, but miss terribly now-

1. That gang of stray dogs in Nizamuddin East (you know the ones, the canines who chase every moving object from the entry gate all the way to that little roundabout every single night...)
2. Stray dogs that howl all night long
3. Stray dogs and puppies plastered to the tarmac (all you see here is the odd semi-aquatic rodent...it just does not have the squishiness needed to spread evenly...)
4. Dust.
5. Three-wheelers.
6. Cowdung sticking to my shoes and tyres...
7. Power cuts...what is the point of having an entire section at Home Depot dedicated to flashlights in a country where the power never goes out?
8. TV channels such as Aastha, ETC punjabi and their ilk.
9. Ear-jarring Bollywood music.

10. Life.

Music- The Clash-Daddy was a Bankrobber, The Clash-I fought the law(and the law won)

Palm Beach, here I come!

2007-01-03T18:16:00.000-08:00

This weekend will be spent in the company of my aunt, who owns a villa on a little isle off the West Palm beach coast. We'll be driving down in a rented car, as this will be a good practice run before I hopefully get my hands on the new Mazda...which reminds me, yeah, we're almost at the point of no longer being sans l'auto. Of course, the cost of the privilege of driving a car for me will be astronomical, in particular the insurance, that will cost me approximately one quarter of my income, or to put it in another perspective, fifty-something dollars more than the monthly payment of the car.

I know how much this is going to pinch, and I can see harder times ahead, but this is something that just has to be done. There is no alternative that can cost less. I will have to take the plunge and allow the hemorrhage of my earnings, and there's not a thing to be done about it. Like I said, the system forces you into choices you can somehow sustain, but cannot get beyond.

Music- Fryderyk Chopin- Waltz in A major, No.1 Op. 34

As the river flows to the sea...

2007-01-02T19:08:00.000-08:00

It has been over three months since I have left the land I was born of, to arrive in a place that I cannot yet call my own. So much has happened to me and to others around me, I have never made an effort to take a step back and look at the grand totality of this adventure.

A famous scientist was right when he said that time was relative to the observer's point of view. that time, that now seems so distant and so long ago; when every day was one day less I had in my own country, seems to have been a mere interlude, a moment so brief that it could pass in the flap of a butterfly's wing, when matched to the slow grind of the wheels that I have experienced here.

Of late, as the horizon clears and the prize I sought is just in sight, time has begun to quicken its pace, buoying my sinking spirit and filling the sails that empower my soul throughout this journey. Soon enough, my time here will draw to a close, but like any adventure, this has already given rise to questions and thoughts that remain unanswered in my mind. Time will tell me where the answers lie.

Music- Baroque Favourites- Track 9

Inane lists

2006-12-31T11:14:00.000-08:00

After someone I know began to publish 'inane lists' regularly on her blog, I decided that the time was ripe to steal a few ideas, and post my own. so here's my first list---

EXOTIC CARS I HAVE SEEN IN THE U.S.A-

1) Bentley Continental GT Flying Spur(including the one owned by AC/DC frontman Brian Jones, who resides in Sarasota)
2) Maserati Cambiocorsa
3) Maserati Quattroporte
4) Lamborghini Gallardo
5) Ferrari F430
6) Ferrari Enzo (seen at a distance, cannot confirm if it really was THE Enzo)
7) Ford GT500
8) Porsche 911 turbo (the Cayenne, Cayman and Boxster are small fry here)
9) An undetermined model of a pre-2000 era Rolls-Royce
10)And lastly, a Maybach 57

P.S- If any one of you is by chance considering the purchase of the Maybach, save yourself from what is essentially an overpriced S-class in drag, and invest intelligently in a Bentley or a RR...class and prestige come standard with these two.

A new low in culinary adventure

2006-12-30T16:53:00.000-08:00

A recent feature in the local newspapers alerted me to the recent reinstatement of a withdrawn McDonald's product, the McRib; for a limited time, only available upto the 31st of december this year. Research on the internet aroused my curiosity and finally, today was the second-last day before the McRib goes to that big deep-fat fryer in the sky.

for these reasons, and against everything that I stand for, I found myself locking the bike in a McParking-lot, and walked into the jaws of the enemy.

The first thing I noticed was that the staff seemed to be composed from members of the same extended Hispanic family. I guess those guys were the franchisees too. After being handled in a very courteous manner by a slightly built lad of 17, who was being overseen by an aunt or sister or something, I was presented with a sort of lump wrapped in wax paper, which I quickly deduced was the infamous McRib itself(What, no oboes or trombones to announce its arrival??)

The McRib wasn't created as much as it was developed at the University of Nebraska, and has been sold in fits and starts over the past 15-20 years. The main ingredient is ground pork(what part of swine is used remains a mystery, but isn't that the fun thing about all ground meats?) that is compressed into the shape of a rack of spare-ribs and cooked under the same compression, ensuring that the proteins in the meat coagulate, and hold the patty in shape, eliminating the need for an additional binding agent. this component is then frozen and like every other McProduct, gets distributed to individual establishments, where it is re-heated and kept warm in a bath of tangy BBQ sauce, also used to coat the patty. Final assembly involves a soft white bun, a some slivered onions and gherkins.

After settling down and studying the decaying mass of fibre-less white bread, congealed and compressed by the heat from the mysterious meat patty, I closed my eyes and took my first bite...it tasted like (insert default McDonalds taste here) with spicy overtones provided by the BBQ sauce and gherkin pickle. Consuming the rest of the item with the same speed as the service in McDonalds, I reached for the napkin dispenser to wipe off the muck from my hands, and left the establishment.

On the way home, it felt like that I had accidentally swallowed a wine-cork, and it was stuck somewhere in my esophagus, and that wasn't surprising in the least, because that's what the sandwich tasted like - Cork.

God, I miss those kathi kababs...

When you're happy and you know it...

2006-12-29T04:10:00.000-08:00

...clap your hands!
or so goes the slogan. but right now, I'm not quite overflowing with good cheer, since I have had to work a Sunday last week(a venture that cost me the same amount of money in taxi fares as I make in one day) and this week, I am working on a Saturday... well, that really does not explain my simmering discontent...after all, irregular work hours are the hallmark of the Hospitality Industry. I guess I need a little break. This may come through in the form of an open invitation to my bhuajee's vacation home in Palm Beach, where we may go to over the next weekend. Both of us are professionally quite satisfied with the progress of our jobs, but it's the absolute crashing boredom of doing nothing else except working, sleeping and eating that's beginning to get the best of us. There's only so much monotony one can stand before you blow a gasket.

In other news, I perchance happened to have an early day yesterday, so I jaunted into a Honda showroom to look at the new Honda FIT, a cute hatchback with a lot of bang for the buck. couldn't get a test drive though, since they were all sold out(these babies are going out the door as soon as the car-trailers pull in) but I'll get to drive one quite soon. I also went to the local Mazda dealer to drool over the Mazda3, and had a salesperson give me a complete financial breakup of a model that I don't particularly desire(Mazda3 i-Touring 2.0 4-speed automatic, Side Airbags and ABS option installed) instead of the model I really want(Mazda3 S-touring 2.3 5-speed automatic, ABS and 6 airbags standard), Because the former model makes more economic sense. we'll see how things work out soon enough....

Too much of a good thing

2006-12-28T18:48:00.000-08:00

I am a Chocoholic.

It's one thing being a confirmed binger, out to get his next fix from a shiny dark square of pure 80% spliff, obtained at great financial risk. But when one works right next to the stuff, it gets bad. It gets worse when one of your co-workers is a chocolatier-in-the-rough, and lets you sample exotic varieties such as a red pepper infused 75% cocoa bar...

We work with bits of chocolate called 'callets', and the damned things are so small, you find yourself popping one or two or a half-dozen into your maws every now and then. there are also some nice truffle chocolates that are conveniently pilferable, plus the usual chocolate chips used in most of our cookies. At home lies my bar of Lindt 70%, devoured at the steady pace of one square a day.

Is it possible to die from an overdose of chocolate? Most chocolate contains higher-than-usual amounts of Iron, Copper, Zinc, Magnesium and Phosphorus. It contains Phenylethylamine, which is basically the cocoa version of the more popular Amphetamine. Another interesting compound found in chocolate is Anandamide, unique due to its resemblance to THC (tetrahydrocannabinol), a chemical found in marijuana. These reputable compounds tool around in your body to produce Dopamine, a neurotransmitter that gives pot-heads the 'high'. Even though the anandamide in chocolate helps to create feelings of elation, the effect is not the same as the THC, because THC is a party animal, and likes to mingle with a wider variety of receptors in your noggin. Also, THC is present in much larger amounts in weed, and it is estimated that it would take about 25 pounds of chocolate to achieve a similar high to that of marijuana!

Down and Out in Bradenton, FL

2006-12-27T16:26:00.000-08:00

well, not really...I haven't become a vagrant or a bum, but I'm tottering pretty close to the edge here.
We were discussing the financial ramifications of purchasing a car over dinner tonight, and like so many dinners before, we arrived at the same conclusion. We simply cannot afford to have a car.

Now that's a very clear statement, but as the intelligent reader knows, there are no absolutes in life; except your birth and your inevitable death. In this case, 'cannot afford' can be whittled down to- "Yes, we could get a really economical car, pay the astronomical insurance charges, maintain it at a cost that makes me want to sell my kidney on Ebay, but at the end of the day, we're clean-bowled out for a Duck."
Life in America it seems, is determined to make us live hand-to-mouth, savings be damned. But that is how the rest of the citizenry seems to live here, even the relatively well-off included. My collegues at work are wont to comment on the emancipated status of their bank balances in the last days before the sluice-gates are opened, and the cash flows through. That's when think of the money I have struggled to save, and it makes me feel all fuzzy and warm inside...that warmth is replaced by a icy bitterness, whenever I happen to be at one of the many temples of consumerism, and I see all the things that I want to acquire....I salivate. I touch. I experience. I desire. I crave. I firmly force my rectal spinchter shut, lock my jaw, close my eyes and kill all want or need, and quietly go home.

Ri-post-e

2006-12-24T14:58:00.000-08:00

My last post generated the following response from V, debater Par Excellence -

Think once again...
What should have been boycotted...?
A small town bar?
Or the institution of Justice which failed to act properly?
Tell me if you get my point..

The point, though well taken, is somewhat misguided in my opinion. By boycotting the institution of justice, we would have underlined the stagnation that had set into the judicial process, relegating the case to the annals of the Indian system of Justice, to be struggled over for several years more. Where would have the family of Jessica Lal found justice in that case?
Admittedly, the boycott of the small town bar, which by the way is also a source of livelihood for its employees; does raise some questions. But let me conclude by repeating that it is only a part of the whole sum of things that constitute justice. We may have seen this case through without resorting to the methods that my friend considers illogical and unnecessary.

By the way, it's not as if its killing me inside, that I went to a particular bar whose owner was a murderer. I feel bad about it, yes, but not THAT bad!

Bleeding Heart Liberals Vs. Realists

2006-12-21T13:37:00.000-08:00

My Last post was about the conviction(and now, the sentencing)of the infamous Manu Sharma, written in a very self-righteous air, about a topic that has been championed by both the media and the citizenry of India, to a degree that may be categorized as sensationalism.

My friend V, in a brilliant response, offers a different viewpoint from what I went on about, and has made some interesting remarks, while offering a more realistic picture of things... All points being well taken, I offer the following defence- Note that while these issues may be endlessly debatable, I believe the only things worth debating over are the ones with no obvious right or wrong...

My friend makes a very valid point when he speaks of how we have come down to causing financial ruin in exchange for an act of murder. Life, truly; cannot be equated with money. And by doing so, i.e, reverting to money as a means of payback, we are equating money with a human life, thus degrading its infinite value, and lending credence to the idea that in this way, justice can be bought or sold. If a mortal crime such as murder could indeed have a monetary value, many of us would be glad to shell out the cash and have our enemies bumped off.
Then comes the point of mixing our professional lives and our personal lives. We as Indians do put an inordinate amount of confidence in a person, when we need to be concentrating on the Business that the person does. It's a reality I have had the opportunity to observe at close quarters. But this is a cultural phenomenon, and there is no need to justify a certain cultural trait to anybody else. The fact is that there is no set standard among all the professionals in the world, as to what is 'personal' and what is 'professional'. We all have our own limits and distinctions, and such distinctions can vary wildly from person to person, workplace to workplace. True, certain organizations issue policy regarding workplace behaviour, but it is up to the professional to interpret these guidelines and implement them. But this is besides the main issue, that is, using financial clout to undermine a particular person's Buisness, in response to what was primarily a personal act. Does this sort of vendetta have any effect on those who are too rich to be affected by a loss of buisness?

Finally, I believe that my esteemed friend V has not been able to recognise the power of Boycott. After all, It has helped to free nations from Imperial rule. When the citizenry of a nation sees that the system is not working, it is but natural that they will resort to whatever means available, in order to see that justice is done. Social and economic boycott has been part of our sociological composition for quite a long time now, acting as a kind of built-in system for ensuring(or rather enforcing) mores and norms; and while it may not equate a judicial system, it is a means of registering and acting on a society's collective angst. If one intends to bring a criminal to justice, one cannot just boycott that person into confessing his or her crime. It is a part of the whole sum of things that constitutes the whole idea of justice. And as Citizens, it becomes a part of your civil duty, to do your part in the process, even if it seems petty, and as in this case, raises certain questions that may put many of us in a moral quandary, and asks us to blur the fine lines that divide the personal and the professional.

After all, can it be said that it would have been more civil if we just turned a blind eye to the state of things, and carried on? wouldn't that be equally de-humanising as equating a human life with money? And is the first precept of a democracy not the ability to publicly question all that has gone wrong, instead of leaving an ineffectual system to (not) sort things out?

Meanwhile, at Chandigarh..

2006-12-19T16:05:00.000-08:00

With the very delayed and very deserving conviction of Manu Sharma(Ref:Indian Express-19/12/06) coming seven years after what should have been an open-and-shut case, I guess the citizens who championed the Jessica Lall cause have reason to rejoice...meanwhile, in Chandigarh, I wonder what's on the mind of all of us who patronized that den in the heart of sector-17, knowing well who its murderous owner was...I bet most of the wannabe hip social yuppie crowd is already asking-

"What's gonna happen to Blue-Ice now yaar??"

I admit, I have been to that joint once or twice(much to my consternation) but I regret ever being there, and my memories of the good times I had there are tainted with guilt.

Music- Darude - Rush

One man's Trash is another man's Treasure...

2006-12-19T15:13:00.000-08:00

It's amazing what Americans will throw away...I found these fine volumes, in excellent condition, at places such as Goodwill, a store for secondhand hand-me-downs(yes, I repeat, secondhand hand-me-downs) and next to a trashcan...

Music- Children of Bodom-Triple Corpse Hammerblow, Rammstien- Weiter, weiter

At the end of a long day

2006-12-14T19:10:00.000-08:00

Whew!

Today was a rather longish day for me. Since it was going to be just me and Jeannie in the kitchen today, i decided to come in early and be of some more use to her. Of course, the one extra hour i spent in the morning turned out to be my slowest and most unproductive, which really got Jeannie into the quiet sort of temper every intelligent man should fear in every woman.

After a quick and precise pep-talk, I hastened my pace, and hammered out orders and produced the goods as fast as i could. I ended up staying an extra half-hour, leaving Jeannie to deal with those frustrating petit-fours that require a double shot of effort.

At the Bus Station, my usually cheery and leadfooted bus driver could be found on his driver's seat, reading Poe, and letting the engine idle until the clock struck 6:15 PM. All seemed to be going well, until i perceived that the bus was moving a bit too close to another parked bus, and a loud bang was heard. Apparently, it was too close. The buses met rear-bumper to rear-door, and my usually cheery and leadfooted bus driver had the blood drain from his face. The poor guy was choking with emotion when he radioed his base, taking his time to 10-4 every order. Every one of us regular bus-goers felt bad for our usually cheery and leadfooted bus driver, and tried to buoy his sunken spirit; that we so admire on our daily 70 Mph blast on the US41...

I finally ended up riding on a bus the SCAT people sent over to cover for the stricken vehicles, and reached home at eight-thirty tonight...a really long day.

Music - Children of Bodom - Are you dead yet?

life in these United States (No. 4)

2006-12-13T16:41:00.000-08:00

So, I passed my exam...

Yay...hooray...

With this final knell, my fate for the next year is sealed. Since my degree is only one more year of study, i have decided to drop my fanciful ideas of obtaining a foreign certification, and complete my 3-year Bachelor's program. Mainly because a similar course in any run-of-the-mill education shops that pass for colleges here will charge rather outrageous fees per semester, something in the region of $9000 for every three months, for as long as one and half a year.

I must admit, these guys know how to market their stuff. One particular college even had a honey-trap type woman show me around, like i was going to buy the place...even inviting me to the grand opening of the new wing of their swanky college...

Sure, I'll come, should I bring the Vaseline for when you shove the fees up my arse?

In other happenings, my hospital-and-insurance game is getting tighter by the day...all i need is for the physician who looked me over( and charged over $500 for it) sign a measly scrap of paper, which will finally enable the folks at ICICI to go ahead with the whole thing...the problem is that i just can't call the hospital and talk to the doctor...some laws make it impossible for the hospital to give out any information. I have sent the document by post to the doctor, but i have no idea what is being done with it.

I'm going to a little Christmas soiree hosted by Morton's on Sunday, before which the Pastry team and their dates will meet at some restaurant...finally, a chance to go out, even if they are co-workers or bosses...and wear some decent clothing, instead of the damned polyester I wear day in and day out.

Music- A P O C A L Y P T I C A - plays Metallica by four Cellos - Sad but True

(I had no idea that the Cello was such a versatile instrument!)

Suck me hard, Baby...

2006-12-10T18:54:00.000-08:00

Our Apartment's carpet was starting to look really bad, being sprinkled liberally in all areas with assorted debris from our daily lives-rice grains, bits of bacon, tiny scraps of paper, the flaky paint that comes off when you touch the ceiling, and the usual hair and dust. Mom had been trying to get the place clean with our only broom, but to no avail. It was time to take drastic steps.

Only a vacuum cleaner could do what was necessary. the problem was not buying one, but how to get something as large as that over to our place without a car. our chance came as soon as the sodhis called and announced their imminent arrival.

Now, Most regular domestic Vacs here are those funny upright types, that can do nothing but clean a carpet. I wanted something as powerful and as versatile as the ones we used at ITC-Maurya Sheraton. What I needed was a wet-and-dry type vacuum, and the ones i checked at the likes of Sears(purveyor of almost everything) were in the $300 category, loaded with fancy features and high -tech gobbelledygook. Out of my price range.

Fortunately, these types are also easily available in a low-tech guise for the workshop and the garage, and I tracked down a little 22.5 litre 2.5 Hp model, for about $40. It makes a hell of a lot of noise, but man, this thing could suck out the piling on the rug if I kept it on a spot too long...it needs no bags, and can suck up spills as well. Just what I wanted in a vacuum cleaner.

Music- Rammstein and t.A.t.U - Moskau , Rammstien- Rosenrot

Come Sunday, i will...

2006-12-10T08:24:00.000-08:00

I seem to have settled in on a regular weekend schedule by now. My saturdays are spent in doing things like shopping for groceries, food and the like. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are consumed at a leisurely pace, newspapers are sorted out, emails are read and replied to, and a genera laziness is adopted. Sundays get reserved exclusively for communication, as we spend the early part of our morning calling India an exchanging news and views. I get to chat online with my Mittar-Beli, and a careful cleaning and lubrication of my bicycle's chain is undertaken.

I went to this cool little auto-club show set up in a parking lot this Saturday. I had my digi with me, so i took some pics to post here...mainly because this blog is beginning to look drab and uninteresting, and my loyal fans have stopped leaving any comments.

here we have the iconic Shelby Cobra, one of the few american automobiles i actually admire , with it's spartan interior....

And here we have a brightly-liveried Suzuki Hayabusa drag-racer, with an extended wheelbase and equipped with a turbocharger. (yes, you read that right, a turbocharger.) Note the complete absence of a silencer on this fine piece of engineering.

Some Hot-rods...note the very essential chrome plated valvetrain covers, and the flame/fire themed paintjobs.

Music - Gurdas Mann - Mamla Gadbad Hai...

How to defeat a food craving

2006-12-07T17:13:00.000-08:00

For some inexplicable reason, I had the strongest urge to eat some fried chicken today. After unsuccessfully trying to obtain some at work for lunch, i resolved to get what i wanted for dinner.
I pulled up next to the 24-hour Wal-mart later this evening, and confidently strode up the aisles to the in-house Deli; where i encountered a rather large person.

Estimated to be about 2 feet wide, and wearing enough textile to make a small tent, was this woman on an electric wheelchair, ordering exactly the same thing i wanted. Suddenly, i began to feel very well-fed. I lost all desire for fried chicken, fried potato wedges or fried anything. The same golden, crispy and juicy chicken seemed like it was a sponge soaked with cholesterol. I quietly went home to my mixed vegetables and yellow dal.

...And ends so abruptly...

2006-12-06T17:55:00.000-08:00

Well now, this is fun.

Exactly two days after receiving my brand-new credit card, i managed to lose my entire wallet in one clean sweep. Besides losing a very supple nubuck Guess tri-fold wallet, i lost about 40 dollars in cash, my debit card, the darned credit card, my driver's licence, and my SBI VISA card, worth about 500 dollars. (!)

Of course, i realized something was amiss only the morning after, when i frisked around in my bag to pay my bus fare; and found myself clutching at thin air where my wallet should have been. After a complete search of the apartment, and a trip to Wal-Mart, where i had used my shiny new plastic friend the night before, it was clear that my wallet could be well on its way to the land of Oz by now.

Lucky for me, I somehow had the good sense to have kept all necessary information in one place for exactly this sort of thing, so i fished my little green telephone book out, and began an hour-long process of cancelling all my lost cards and ordering replacements, while i requested a duplicate driver's ID online. I had missed a good two hours of my workday, so it did not matter a whole lot when I missed the bus to Sarasota, and had to pedal down about 13 miles in another hour to get to work. As if my day could have gotten any worse...

I also happen to be so rich i have two extra wallets lying about, which includes my very supple and smooth grained black Hidesign wallet, that has absorbed the sweat of two Delhi summers, always from the vicinity of my arse...no wonder it smells good.

Anyway, Sumeet and Torea, Boo-Yaa!!!

And so it begins...

2006-12-05T17:07:00.000-08:00

I received my new Credit card yesterday, which arrived in much lesser time than expected. Endowed with a credit limit of $500, it came with a little booklet that contained my contract with the company, and the very technical terms and conditions document.

First Question- Why does it take a 'contract' to do every damned thing in the U.S? I was on the phone with a car dealer the other day, and this guy just could not give me a price on the car i wanted, meandering around stuff like options, financing, and the ubiquitous 'contract'...all i wanted was the base price, and he would not bring that number up. Finally, i got very frustrated and asked him to call back later.
Second Question- Why do these guys have something called 'MSRP'(manufacturer recommended sale price) instead of what the rest of the world calls maximum retail price, so that dopes like you and me can get ripped off ??

Anyway, getting back to the buisness of my credit card, i have decided that the best way to deal with this menace is to stay one step ahead of these card companies. i will equate my spending limit to whatever cash i actually have in hand, and not treat the card as a means of 'credit'. In other words, save money, buy what you need on your card, and pay the debt off as soon as possible from the money you saved. Do not spend over a set limit, say $350, and pay your bill with frightening regularity. Never, ever let yourself get carried away by the various offers these guys wave in front of you. Stay in control, always.

Cash, is King...

Take it outside, Godboy...

2006-12-02T14:12:00.000-08:00

Ok.

I get it.

I reside in a Christian nation.

No matter what everybody else is thinking when they read this, i still think this country(or at least the south and the midwest) takes a double peg of religion. Of course, fanatics abound in every corner of the globe, and i am yet to meet a bonafide religious fanatic, but it's funny to see people who i thought would be open-minded, free-thinking and liberal; go about a-Jesusing. I have had a couple of amusing(for me) encounters with the sort of people who walk up to strangers at random locations, Bible in hand; and proclaim 'brother, Jesus is the light!!' ,asking me to join the path to salvation and righteousness etc.

I like to mess with them, contradicting everything they say, and giving them an alternative viewpoint from other religions, until they are exhausted of whatever propoganda they had, and in desperation, start bad-mouthing other religions and use whatever they can lay their hands on as ammunition against all but their own(where's the love now, bro?)

finally, finding me a pretty tough customer, they walk away by saying things like 'i will pray for you, my brother' when actually they are mentally filing me away in the "to Hell with Thee" folder in their heads.

now, I know you could find people like this in India, in fact, we have a surplus of them. but what really tickles me is the way, in a supposedly free country, random strangers butt into something that is very personal and private. Religious conversions are something of a controversial thing in India, some groups being accused of forced conversions and some states(eg. TN, Gujarat) banning conversions altogether; which in my opinion is in direct conflict with the constitution, more accurately, our fundamental rights. The constitution being our supreme charter, should render these state 'laws' null and void...(but go ahead and ask Soli Sorabjee...i'm just guessing)

Most of these conversions are the by-product of our own apartheid, the caste system, and simple poverty. And if being in one or the other religious group makes a person feel better, so be it; even though that poor person may have been brainwashed into doing something he has little grasp of. If any right-wing, religious majority-fundamentalist-neo-con is reading this, get a grip on reality, and..oh..up yours!

What's cooking for dinner, everybody???

2006-11-30T18:26:00.000-08:00

So today, mom had a little after-work meeting and dinner thing she had to go to, so she was worried as hell about my dinner, despite my constant reminder that i cook stuff for a living. I decided on some angel-hair pasta, that i boiled a little under al-dente, while i sauteed some shallot and garlic in bacon trimmings. throwing in the parboiled pasta, with some of the nice pasta water, i cooked it nicely on a medium heat while i sprinkled some freeze-dried basil and oregano on top(nice stuff, better than the dried herbs) finally finishing the thing off with some half&half, a generous knob of pesto sauce, a liberal drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil and some of that gorgonzola i'm trying to put to use before it gets really reeking....a nice meal, accompanied by a chilled bottle of Pilsner Urquell(sorry, no chardonnay was to be had)

the energy and the paitience to do all of this, even as i had missed my bus and had to travel for two hours just to get home, has to come from somewhere...the energy to type this post however, comes from a very cold pint of Guiness.

Just for fun, i'd like to ask every one of my loyal readers to describe what they had for dinner today...

sleeping with the enemy

2006-11-30T14:57:00.000-08:00

I work for what may be labeled as a high-end, high-quality gourmet foods specialist...in other words, a market for the rich and stupid. It's main competitor in town is the mega-organisation called Whole Foods, which trumpets its organic foods selection like manna...this naturally draws away the filthy rich from Morton's, and so we have a corporate "Conflict Of Interest" policy, that makes it taboo for employees of Morton's to have anything to do with Whole Foods...I had been stealthily going to Whole foods very often, just because it's close to the bus station for a while now; and expecting to be written up any day for this gross corporate blunder....until i met one of my managers shopping around in WF today, and said, "Busted!"

after exchanging pleasantries, we agreed on a "I-wont-tell-if-you-wont-tell" sort of program, and we went our separate ways, leaving me with the wherewithal to come into WF any bloody time i wanted to, and breach our policy with absolute impunity...

bad move....

2006-11-30T04:19:00.000-08:00

never, ever, in your entire life, have a crispy bacon and Gorgonzola dolce sandwich,if you have seared your palate the night before with some very hot daal.

Paaji on the bus

2006-11-28T18:51:00.000-08:00

I had the incredible luck of meeting a genuine, honest-to-goodness Dilli Da Bhapa on the bus today, back home from work... since there are only about a handful of Desi families in Bradenton, it was easy to network with this blast from the past...turns out every family in this city has atleast one active RN as a member...and he was no exception... it felt nice to talk loudly in profanity-laden punjabi after such a long time...I usually hum to nusrat's tunes while i'm busy in my own work, but it'd be great if i got to use our colourful swears, curses and F-words at work...instead of the bland and unimaginative english ones used to convey one's thoughts and feelings to a co-worker. Most of the times, the f-word is just sprinkled over the conversation as and when seasoning is required... like salt...it would be so much fun, like in Indian cooking, to have a whole spice-box of expressions, and use it judiciously to create a veritable verbal Garam Masala...

In more news, Verizon has really FUBAR'd my net connection..if they don't get it going by friday, I'm changing service providers for sure.

It's a lonely, lonely country...

2006-11-27T18:58:00.000-08:00

Dad finally flew off today, and dinner was a rather sparse affair without him...we both made conversation in order to fill the gap, but his presence was still missing. What the two of us are really sad about is not just the fact that we won't see him for a very long time now, but also the fact that we will miss out on two big weddings in the family.

Those Idiots at Verizon have SNAFU'd my internet connection scheduling, giving me two different dates from when my connection is supposed to be activated...i'll have to wait and see what happens tomorrow. In the meantime, i will continue to purloin our tech-challenged neighbours' WiFi, even if it means sitting in the middle of the park in my boxer shorts with a cold breeze blowing; at ten in the night to get better signals....

Dad's last Sunday in the U.S....

2006-11-26T14:57:00.000-08:00

...So dad is celebrating by cooking up some mutton a-la-sikand, and his packing is almost done...he will be carrying quite a load of stuff that has to be distributed to family, friends and shameless panderers. His flight leaves tomorrow from SRQ at eleven in the morning, direct to Newark, from where he will transfer to a plane enroute to New Delhi. Unfortunately, i will not be able to see him off, as i will have to bugger off to work at seven-thirty tomorrow morning...

I request all readers in India to take care of him , and help him out.

BTW, I went to best buy, on a wing and a prayer, hoping that my laptop model is on sale by now. And it was! now priced at $599, it was a steal...i promptly presented my reciept, and demanded a price-match refund, which was duly handed over to me. A nice cash-back discount of $150!

Now, at $599, this laptop is one hell of a deal!!

Ka-Ching!

2006-11-25T15:07:00.000-08:00

Well, i've finally earned my first real paycheck,for the princely sum of $371.82 , minus about $50 of taxes and medicare deductions...a surprisingly low amount, for about 12 days of work...but that's the way most people feel about their salary anyway. The tax deductions are not compulsory, but i felt it was a good idea to have it done anyway, so that i may get a nice fat refund in April.

We were sitting at our table this evening, sipping Sikkim tea and discussing what our objectives were for the next year. I feel that my time here should be spent in extracting the maximum out of what this country can legally offer, give back nothing except what i am legally bound to do, then leave. Squeeze the last drop of juice from the sugarcane, and leave nothing but husk. When the System allows you to take whatever you can get your hands on, do it. Be a modern-day dacoit.
Mom sees her objective in pretty much the same colours, but she has put a figure to it. that could change, but the idea will still be prevalent. Her prospective timeline may range from the extent of her contract, to as long as five years...my time here will most probably be limited to until i am able to join college in Delhi.

Black Friday Dawns...

2006-11-24T04:09:00.000-08:00

The biggest sales event in the year has finally arrived, and the queues have finally begun to move into stores oozing with all sorts of merchandise. Stores like BestBuy have opened at 5 A.M to allow the customers camping outside the store in to burn their money.
Fortunately for me, BestBuy was man enough to give me a discount voucher, meaning that if the computer i purchased goes on sale, i can go in there and get a refund equal to the discounted amount. Nice.

Just about everything is on sale, and the madness is only beginning.

pictographical representations of our current lodgings.

2006-11-23T17:33:00.000-08:00

here we have a view of our lobby/dining/seating/lounge/drawing room from the service counter of the kitchen....

...and here is the miniscule pentagonal kitchen, equipped with an eighties-era range...

this is our backyard, complete with its own pond stocked with game such as duck and turtle for our consumption(not really, they are for ornamental purposes only.)

Turkey Vs. Aloo Paranthas

2006-11-23T08:14:00.000-08:00

Thought i'd become more american and wish you all a happy thanksgiving...a strange festival, given how you first thank the original Americans for helping stave off hunger, and then later down the line, you proceed to murder one and all. Nobody seems to be thinking of the Original Americans when they sit down in front of their HDTV's to eat turkey and drink beer until they pass out.

Anyway, there's no point discussing History and Genocide. Mom's aloo paranthas can beat any old turkey-and-corn dinner anytime.

Those Idiotas at ICICI Lombard seem to have Snafu'd my payment to the hospital for my emergency treatment after that bike collision. I recieved a letter from the hospital requesting more information, despite having furnished all details on the same night. What's more, that Austrian guy still on the loose, looking for me. Bart has had to face the man several times and tell him outright that he doesn't know me at all, and tell tall tales of how i've moved to Ohio or someplace...not that bart has a problem with it, though...

More Bad news- the Camera's SD card that contained all those lovely pictures of timmy, meenu and sanveer, niagara and our stay at bhuajee's got corrupted. I tried recovering the data, but to no avail. Fortunately, the card is OK, and i won't have to buy a new one.

Computor!

2006-11-22T03:55:00.000-08:00

Hey all,

I've finally got myself a laptop, and an internet connection will follow soon. we have also applied for an Fixed line telephone, and the service will be activated from tomorrow.

Despite the advice from certain individuals, i have got myself a pretty basic but nonetheless brand-new machine, which i feel is a better investment than going for a suspect used laptop...the applications we may use this machine for include teleconferencing and VOiP, and it is essential to have a well-configured laptop for this.

Anyway, Our new apartment is nice and cosy(meaning small, rather; eentsy) and as of yesterday, has three pieces of furniture in it- a 4 seat dining table, a chest of drawers and a bookshelf, all purchased from a used furniture shop. We have no matresses or beds, and the carpeted floor serves as our bed. I'll put up some pictures soon, so you guys can have a look.

My job is going really well, and i like what i get to do at my workplace. the envoirnment is very relaxed and casual, the pizza boy has a crush on me, and my boss is a real swell gal. I get to do lots of pastry work, baking, and final prep. I also do other stuff like tarts and flans, cheesecakes, pies and the like. we are extra-busy these days, as thanksgiving is around the corner, and we have over 500 orders to fulfil.

i'll have to drop off here, as this is being written across some moron's unsecured WiFi network that i pried into, and sooner or later, he's gonna notice some unusual activity on his modem...actually, i'm just about ready to leave for work, and i don't want to miss that bus...

Alert to All

2006-11-15T18:37:00.000-08:00

To Everybody,

I may not be able to update this page for quite a while from now on. I'm moving away from my point of internet access, so hang in there until i get a computer and everything......

This Page has moved to http://....

2006-11-15T17:51:00.000-08:00

So we've finally got all the paperwork necessary to initiate our move to the new place, and now the problem of how to get our stuff across the distance arises. Bart asked us to take some of the matresses lying at this place along with us, but it's a problem to move those Gaddas...we really have nothing else to move, just about 12 pieces of luggage and a small plastic box. It could be accomplished with a few cab rides, about $20 one-way. Movers charge $90 an hour, and we really don't need a 24-foot truck to get our stuff out of here...so let's see how this goes.

Looking at the current bus schedules, it looks like a touch-and-go situation for me to get to the job in time. My week has different timings everyday, and not all of them fall within the operating hours of the Sarasota County Area Transit bus service. The new place is about 15 miles from the job, so biking down is a lengthy proposition. Since we have next to no money to make even a statutory down-payment, leasing a car is a no-no at this point. In any case, a car means an expenditure of at least seven hundred dollars a month, which is more than half of my monthly pay.

Looks like i'll have to haul-ass for a while.

first day, first show.

2006-11-13T09:42:00.000-08:00

hi all,
my first day on the job was basically an induction and training sort of gig. I start regular work tomorrow, and i have to get some new chef coats and pants to work.

I'm going to go with bart and see if we can get the realtors to lower our rent at the new place. Bart is looking for a place to stash some more nurses expected in the next year, so if he can work out a deal, we want to be part of it.

Gone house-hunting

2006-11-11T12:55:00.000-08:00

Well, now that we are not moving to Naples, we had to find an accomodation that will be ideal for mom, in respect to her work. So off we went today to Bradenton; to look up a place that was suitable. We found a tiny 2-bedroom apartment located in a decent area just 5 minutes away from her clinic on foot. The rent is $925, exclusive of utilities such as water and electricity. A little pricey, but considering the convienience to mom, we decided to go with it and filled out some papers.

Now, the flipside is, my new job is located at the other end of sarasota, about 15-16 k.m from the new place. The buses don't start until 6 am, and it'll take about an hour and a half to get to the job. I have to be there by 7 am sharp everyday, and there's no telling if i'll be able to reach the buses in time or not.

Getting a car is an expensive proposition for me, i'll have to pay about $200 for my insurance, plus $200-250 for petrol, as well as some money for the actual buying as well. a new car on a lease will be anything between 250-300 dollars a month, while a used car will have to be financed. So i'm weighing all the options, and thinking what to do now...

Hold the Press!!!

2006-11-10T15:25:00.000-08:00

On the cusp of our expected move to Naples, Bart dropped a bomb on us by cancelling the whole shebang. Just yesterday, my prospective employer had called in to confirm if i was moving, and i had affirmed that i was indeed. Now, out of the blue, Bart calls me and asks if i still have the offer...

You can imagine the turmoil that followed. Inbetween calling Bart a thousand names and calling up mom, i called up the employer, and informed them that i was now availiable. To my incredibly good luck, they asked me to come on down and sign a few papers rightaway.

So now, I've signed up with a firm called Morton's gourmet market, as an assistant pastry cook, and mom has been placed in a clinic in Bradenton, which is about the same distance as Panchkula and Mohali. We've decided it will be best if we moved close to mom's workplace, and let me do all the travelling for work. Now, a Car is a priority, as Morton's is pretty far from Bradenton, by most counts.

I also checked in on Dell today, where i was cheerfully informed that my laptop would maybe arrive sometime in December. I told them to take my incomplete order, roll it up into a tight bundle, and shove it up their collective arses. I mean, why the hell should i wait so long for a stupid PC when i can just go and buy one in a store, even if it's more expensive? it's outrageous! I cancelled the order straightaway, and now, i'll have to start looking all over again.

Play da Muzak...

2006-11-09T17:03:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, i went to the Opera, and it was beautiful.

The Sarasota Opera House holds a free session every tuesday and friday, in an open courtyard lined with shrubs, and filled with about a hundred listensers.

The show was actually a sampler of the upcoming operettas and performances that were to be shown later this season, and consisted of a two Sopranos, a Tenor and a Baritone accompanied by a gallery piano. Pieces from the classics such as Rossini's 'The Barber of Seville' and Faust were part of the show.

It is impossible to comprehend the dramatic impact the live human voice makes on a listener, vis-a-vis a recording...comparing the two is a folly. Their voices were powerful, pure, and melodic, and they did not need any electric interface to send their soul volleying across the audience; like a tidal wave...

On the other end of the spectrum, i visited the 16th Annual Sarasota Blues festival about ten days ago, and was soaked to the bone in pure american music, surrounded by a crowd full of of tatoo-festooned bikers, middle-aged white folk and the occaisonal young person. The gig was presided over by some local veterans of this genre, who played the more laid-back and relaxed tunes, as opposed to the heavily rock-influenced output of the younger set. All the lead guitarists were brilliant, particularly the Greg Allman and friends group, where all the 'friends' are lead guitars too...one bassist made his axe so some truly scary things.

all in all, a very cool show...

Oh, and did i mention... (No.4)

2006-11-08T14:58:00.000-08:00

That we got our Greencards?

we got them along with my driver's licence today...now we have to buy a car, and i have to teach mom to drive.

Review - BoratMovie

2006-11-08T13:45:00.000-08:00

Borat : Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan

I thought i had seen it all, when along came something so shocking that i literally had to avert my gaze from the screen in order to preserve my mind.

This is not just a movie, or an out-of-the-box comedy, but the tale of a ficticious charecter called Borat Sagdiyev, played to the hilt by the british comedian Sacha Baron Cohen. Borat is a silly, simple, and very sweet fellow, who also happens to be an extremely perverted individual, with an interest in incest, homosexuality, antisemitism and anti-gipsy-ism. In his professional capacity as a journalist, he goes to the USA to report on the american way of life.

made almost entirely on-the spot and extempore, Baron Cohen shines with his ability to stay in charecter, even when his life is in peril, such as when he riles a red-neck rodeo audience. Borat does other things like defaecating on the street, harassing men by trying to kiss them and generally propositioning every woman he meets. Often extracting the worst out of his unwitting victims, the movie is not so much about borat, but about what really lies beneath all that americana. Baron Cohen is able to make most people what they really want to say about anything, including how they feel about jews, gays and women in general.

At times, the movie is extremely funny, by most standards, and at times, it is disgusting. at times, you have to question the comedy as well. but in all, it is one hell of a movie...go watch it.

Oh, and did i mention... (No.3)

2006-11-07T17:36:00.000-08:00

That we finally know where the heck we're going...After several locales such as Ft. Lauderdale, Ft. Myers, Bonita Springs, Tampa and several others seem to have fizzled out, the folks at CPI have finally settled in on Naples, which is a larger town, and may have some opportunities for me. We're due to move this saturday, so it's Chop-chop-chop from now on...