Tiru's Corner

The nested systems

2012-01-11T00:20:00.000+05:30

2012, Jan 11th, Human date on Earth:
On some other dimension, a discussion starts among two very important figures running the system called universe.
Brahma: "Narada, the coefficient in the N896 is changing and I am not liking it"
Narada: "Yes my lord. I saw that. Even I don't like it"
Brahma: "Do you think it will matter? It pertains to only one species"
Narada: "The coefficient row is for humans my lord, the most important species on that planet"
Brahma: "Shall we act or wait for some more time"
Narada: "I don't know my lord, it is unprecedented, the coefficient relates to stability aspects, currently second order differential with a zeta less than one, but I suspect that there is danger of oscillations increasing beyond control with a positive feedback in each cycle"
Brahma: "Yes, but it has just started, I still feel it would dampen out, I think I should wait and watch. Can you tell me the effects as it has played out on the species recently"
Narada: "Sure my lord. The species has grown intelligent, but behaves mean with co-species on the planet to the extent of wiping out some of them, but I think due to high level of activities on the planet, the species feels secure in an artificial environment that it has created as it has forgotten that any movement in planet coefficients can destroy it altogether. Meanwhile, it seems to have a great time. Interestingly, it has discovered some of the coefficients that actually replicate our systems. They are playing with building blocks of life and intelligence coefficients"
Brahma: "Interesting. Let me observe them for a moment before we take a call"
Narada: "Sure"
Narada and Brahma watch.
Jan 12 starts. Nothing has changed. European crisis continues, people squabble, inflation remains high, and RBI wonders if it should hike the policy rate or not. The coefficients do not look good in the monetary model. Someone running the monetary system, asks a similar question: "Shall we act or wait for some more time"

And somewhere a chuckle is heard, "Yes Narada, you are right, they seem to have developed intelligence, they are playing with systems. I am liking it, don't change other coefficients, let it run for a while. Let them think they are running the show"

And in some other dimension, a deep throat rumbles "This Brahma idiot has discovered systems, I think I am not liking it"

Shopping and the man

2011-12-05T00:14:00.006+05:30

I wondered if it is unique to me. The way I hate shopping. Not that I don't buy things. I buy my stuff at times. The operation last time went like this. I spotted the Levi's store on my way to office. While returning, I went in, asked for Levi's 517, waist 34 and then picked up two of them. Paid and walked out and I had two pairs of jeans, in less than 15 minutes, including trials.

And here I was, at Sarojini market in New Delhi, with biwi for the past 4 hours, and she was looking at Lucknow chicken (sorry for the spelling, I could only gather that it has nothing to do with chicken we eat, but for some reason it is pronounced so, and I don't bother to Google and find out the exact term), and I was there. I was not only there, but was forced to be there, as biwi is rare commodity and I maximize my time with her when she is around, with or without chicken. While she browsed through the roadside exhibits, I pondered over the meaning of my existence and concluded that Seneca was right, many centuries before me, that men waste time behind useless pursuits, shopping with spouse being the prime reason in this century. She chose a few chickens, I ran out of cash, and she ordered me to an ATM, which I happily obliged as I was getting all hypnotized and dizzy under the chicken designs and scooted off. I was in the queue, with many hapless males in front of me, and there i found out this profound truth that all males hate shopping. The ATM queue conversation went like this:

Me: The queue is long

Grumpy male ahead of me: What to do, there are only two ATMs here

Me: True true. It's a pain

Grumpy: No young man, it's a relief, I am away from my wife and the stupid salwar designs. I am at peace in the queue.

Me: hehe, you are right, me too sir, same here! I hope it ends somewhere.

Grumpy: Huh, these females are stupid you know. They love haggling and picking and fretting over all these idiotic stuff. I have grown old but there is no respite. Take my word, if you are married, you are doomed. If someone said there's a hell, it is here, it is here, it is right here, in the sarojinis and lajpat and haats of new delhi.

Me: hehehe. The queue is better

Grumpy: true true

And the serene quietness descended on us and we waited for our turn at the ATM. Male world you know. Less words, more brooding and no shopping.

I went back after around half an hour to biwi. She was still at chickens. She had picked some more meanwhile.

As I paid off all the chickens and walked off, she held my hand and said,

"Da, it was really nice. I am so happy, I bought so much tonight" and gave me an almost kissing smile.

Well, at times, I feel it is worth all the pain.

Brain visit

2011-11-27T19:35:00.000+05:30

And the bhang hits the head. The breathing eases and the body relaxes.
The brain comes out, and opens it's mouth
'Hey dude, whassup'
'Chill brain, me fine'
'What are you lying like that for' The brain asks with a smirk
'No idea brain, don't know where i am headed. It's a wall all around. I can't take more than two strides before I hit the end'
'hey hey, you think so? '
'with you out, how can i brain? You are supposed to do that for me, right?'
'Yeah right, Just that the problem you described was mine. With your hard skull, i couldn't take strides, so i gave you the stuff and i am stretching easy and breathing fresh air. '
'Wow brain, and what am i supposed to do while you chill like that, i can't even move now'
'Never worry, let me be like this, out of the box, for some more time and you shall see. You should practice looking out of the box like I do.'
I hated my brain for giving me gyan like my ex-boss who said 'think differently' and drank Mirinda all the time.
Then two feet grew mysteriously under the brain and it walked away, out of my sight.
I waited. Time passed. Don't know how much as the time-keeper brain was out.
'Brain, u there?"
No answer. I get scared.
I get up, stride my two paces, and walk through the walls. And I saw Suvidh, lying on bed, with beer bottles thrown around, asleep with his friend next to him. I call out to Suvidh, 'Suvidh, did you see my brain?'
Suvidh doesn't wake up, just murmurs in sleep, '99% bride hunting is done'
I come back to room. Grind some coffee beans. The smell of fresh ground coffee rises in the air. By the time the espresso is ready and the crema melts, I am easy.
However, I am carrying this eerie feeling since then. My brain has walked away. Somewhere. I am sure of this as I cannot make sense of time any longer. Also, I am passing through walls. Scary.

Tiru

Biwi's Bindi

2011-11-13T09:29:00.000+05:30

It was very late in the night. I can even say, it was very early in the morning. The time sense was hazy due to irregular sleep patterns for past few days. It's really worth experimenting with sleep as prolonged deprivation leads to a state where you start losing grip on time. At times, it feels really wonderful. And then, I get scared and go into long catch up phase.
Anyway, it was like that last night and I was moving in my room in a dazed state when I found a packed of nice, longish bindis in my cupboard. Now, a packet of bindi is as innocent as any other material, but the fact that it invoked in me a flood of emotions means that materials have something more to them than just stacks of atoms and molecules. Biwi had bought that packet of bindi in one of those Rajasthani shops in Udaipur, I was there, putting up with her shopping which is very unlike me in general. That bindi packet she left behind. I took it in my hands, observed it from all angles, not sure for how long, as the sense of time was jaded. Emotions played on my mind. The separation from my family, the distance, the catch ups at intervals, the pining for company, the warmth, it all flooded at once. In fact, it overwhelmed me for some time. Then I got scared as I felt I am losing grip on reality. So, I kept it back very carefully, as if it is made of some fragile material.
The bindis still linger on my mind. Everytime I open the cupboard, as my coffee stuff is there, I see the bindis and I smile. It's like, the bindi has replaced my wife in her absence, or probably, I have gone crazy.
As I said, materials are not just atoms packed in random way, they are more than that. And sometimes, they can evoke emotions in a way that even humans around a person cannot.

I am - The movie

2011-09-26T17:20:00.001+05:30

Yesterday, I went for Jagran Film Festival organized in Delhi by the Dainik Jagran Group. They screened a movie in the afternoon called 'Iam'. The movie is directed by Onir, an Indian of Bhutan origin, of 'My Brother Nikhil' fame.

What interested me about the movie was not the plot or actors but the way in which the movie was financed. Onir apparently put up the script of the movie on the Facebook and asked people if they would like to sponsor the movie. The script that was put up related to child abuse part of the movie. The minimum amount of contribution was Rs 1000. The director started receiving contributions from the third day onward and around 400 people finally contributed and the amount totaled to Rs 1 crore. Joining the momentum, some more established sponsors jumped in taking the total contribution to Rs 4 crore. The movie was shot in 24 days at various locations, including Srinagar in Kashmir.

The movie didn't do very well at the box office, but it did make a splash for the sensible stories asserting the individuality of lead characters in the movie and for the topics it touched right from child abuse, homosexuality, population migration to being a single mother.

During the question and answer session, Onir was present along with the beautiful Juhi Chawla and Sanjay Suri. When asked as to why the movie wasn't advertised well before release, Onir went into distribution problems associated with such type of cinema in India and how they face problems in financing, advertising, publicity campaigns and finally screening at theaters as the audience is limited.

At that point, I asked Onir as to why he didn't go the same way for publicity and distribution as during initial financing. Today we pay for streaming content online, we pay to watch movies on Tata Sky, we pay for online magazines at Amazon Kindle and I don't see any reason as to why people would mind paying for a good movie if it is priced sensibly. And as the audience for such cinema is not concentrated, it makes all the more sense to go online in distribution. One can tie up with YouTube and work out a solution of say Rs 10 per movie session.

Onir's reply was an eye opener. He said that movies are meant to be watched in the theater and not on a laptop. One should come to theater and watch the movie. He went on to say that they are fighting the tendency to download the movies through internet. He agreed that it is very difficult to stop it but they are trying. He urged the audience to watch such movies in theater. Coming from someone who used Facebook to raise the finance, it was a let down. I don't blame Onir as his efforts were sincere. But somewhere he had missed the point.

I suddenly realized that Bollywood, for all the 3D effects it is trying, lags in terms of understanding technological progress as it relates to economics. One just needs to study the Music industry around the world to understand that there is a very high chance that in coming years, as internet penetration improves in India, Bollywood would be facing the same problem. Before that happens, it would be prudent that at least at experimental levels, Bollywood starts exploring options of online distribution and pricing. If the model is perfected by the time technology peaks, it would be win-win situation. Fighting technology is futile and forcing consumers to behave in a certain way (come to theaters and watch and not on laptops) is something that needs many factors to come together, right from better traffic conditions in cities, right pricing at multiplexes, cultural conditioning, and finally a sense of 'paisa vasool' from the movie itself. e.g. a movie like "avatar" will certainly pull out crowds from home as it justifies going to a theater to be a part of an experience. As home viewing experience improves with larger screens and better sound systems, it's better to join the technology march than to resist it.

I hope someone tries this model in Bollywood. I keep my fingers crossed. If the pricing is sensible, I promise to give up torrents.

Onions, radiation and missile testing

2011-05-03T13:45:00.001+05:30

It never occurred to me that the terms in the topic are related. That was, till my neighbor in the office cubicle enlightened me.

1. Onion price spike has strong correlation with nuclear missile movement, i.e. from one missile storage place to another.

2. Coastal orissa residents believe that the region is getting warmer each year due to multiple missile tests and other test related activities being carried out.

On the face, both statement looked obtuse. Upon prodding, Kiran gave a plausible answer for point one. Apparently onions absorb radiations and if the nuclear warhead that's being moved is covered with tonnes of onions then the signature from the movement would be too low to be detected easily. OK, there are obvious holes in that theory but I rest it at that.

The second point is something that's just the belief of people in the region who are yet to undergo the renaissance phase of civilization.

I just wanted to make the points. Because such beliefs exist. Right or wrong, it doesn't matter.

An addendum to the post:
After around a year of posting this, I was recently on a trip to Rajasthan. While driving down from Jodhpur to Jaisalmer, we passed Pokhran, where they conducted the nuclear tests in 1998/1974. The taxi driver told me something about the point no. 1, regarding onions. He said many days before the actual tests, trucks of onions headed into the deserts and were dumped into the place where the crater formed later. Apparently, it is to contain the nuclear gas from escaping from the test site. I didn't contend, but looks like the theory has some basis.

The result obsession

2010-05-04T18:49:00.000+05:30

Check this out: (Google search hot trend for yesterday)

And then this:(for the past week)

And this one: (for the past month)

So what do you see? I don't know about you but I see the obsession of our (shall I add middle class?) population with results, exams and academic achievements. Where will this lead? Moot point.

Yes, politics (bbmp elections, kasab) and cricket (chirayu amin, rcb vs dc) too figure. But they are comfortably crowded out by the number of queries for results of this and that. And mind you, the results of 'this and that' also leads of number of suicide attempts! Also, I can bet that most of these queries were by the anxious parents who wouldn't stop reprimanding their kid if the kid scores less than their neighbors.

WHY????

Tiru

It rained

2010-04-28T19:11:00.000+05:30

I wonder how would it be if my memory fails altogether. It has already started doing so in bits, but it's not the bits that interest me, but the whole. How would it be to not to be. What would I be if not for the collection of bits called my memory. Would I still be able to manage the dull and uneventful life I lead now? Would the events affect me the same way they do now? what would happen if that happens.

I wonder as I sit here, in front of the computer, one rainy evening with nothing to do except wait for my father in law to bring my baby home. My mother in law picks up my daughter from the creche at 5 PM and I go to pick her up from my in-law's place at around 7. Today it's raining and therefore my FIL wants to drop the baby here. Well, that's fine I said and I wait, brooding here on existential questions as IPL got over and the stock of liquor too. The youtube won't buffer fast enough and that leaves me with just enough time to brood on such things and simultaneously push in this blog. Just like that. Ha.

Cut to present, I don't know the answer and I believe no one does. The ones who claim they do, are the ones who don't understand what I mean when I said that.

Anyway, I will live with this till I die, no choice there. I am waiting for death as I am sure it will unlock the answers or delete the questions...forever. Ha again.

Tiru

Guru and Cheli

2010-04-28T18:53:00.001+05:30

Guruji: Cheli, have you signed the sex-consent contract?
Cheli: Yes, guruji, before joining the ashrama, your assistant ensured that I sign on the piece of paper that says nice things that make me horny. In fact guruji, I joined the ashrama only after I heard about this contract from one of my friends.
Guruji: Which friend?
Cheli: Guruji, the one with whom you had tantric sex in 35 different positions without getting caught on the camera.
Guruji: Ahem...don't worry I will have it in 36 different positions with you. I have learnt one new position since last time I was caught on the camera.
Cheli: Which is that guruji?
Guruji: It's called hide and seek position. I do it and then I hide. You seek, then we do it again.
Cheli: But where will you hide, it's a small room.
Guruji: Dhat Pagli, hiding is only metaphoric. I won't really hide. You will just act as if I am hidden.
Cheli: ?*@#??? whatever....but have you done it before?
Guruji: I told you it's a new thing I learnt after I was caught on camera. Based on my real life experience.
Cheli: Wow guruji, and who was seeking in real life?
Guruji: The Tamilnadu police!!!
Cheli: And then, did they find you?
Guruji: Yes. With the help of CBI and CID
Cheli: And you did it again with them?
Guruji: Yes, I did it differently this time. I told them I am no longer a man!
Cheli: Then what did they say?
Guruji: They said, they too are no longer a police force! And then they pushed it on me. Ouch. I mean, Wow!
Cheli: What did they push Guruji?
Guruji: Charges pagli, charges.
Cheli: Did it hurt?
Guruji: You are a true seeker cheli. You ask such pointed and correct questions. I cannot answer now. Only time will tell. Wait for it. Hurry om. I am coming.

Tiru

The wisdom of fart...

2010-04-26T20:33:00.000+05:30

It formed a small, darkly, gobbly kind of cloud. In the dark of the night, it was difficult to decipher the exact shape. I felt creepy, sweaty and my nose twitched. It was bad. But I loved it. After all it was my own fart. The fart took the shape of an emoticon which had a crickety Modyish smile, that doesn't cease in the most adverse conditions. And then it said:
"Hey man, I see it clearly now. I was in there and my vision was blocked. I came out and realize the lightness of being detached. And what a lightness it is indeed, liberating exhilarating, and breaking me free of the arseholishhhh bond.When I was in, I always thought, I am this and I am that. Now I know, I am not this and I am not that. In fact, I am nothing and I am everything. I can be a crickety Mody now and I can be a Twittery Tharoory the next moment."
Saying so, it vanished in thin air, leaving me gasping for more of it. The wisdom of fart I mean.

The mobile obsession

2010-04-26T20:21:00.000+05:30

It's queer how ladies in India have taken to mobile phones. The attachment is nothing less than the rooting of a baby to mother's nipple. I see them hanging to the mobiles everywhere, in buses, trains, while walking, eating and even when they are with their friends. It's curious and it's irritating. I mean, the habit of hanging out with the phone. Don't know why, shouldn't matter to me, but just like that. Without any reason.

Tiru

The immortals of Meluha - review

2010-04-13T20:30:00.000+05:30

I am reading a book called "The immortals of Meluha" by Amish. The book is surprisingly engaging. I have not read mythology for very long time. I cannot exactly classify this book as mythology but it draws heavily upon Hindu mythology. The refreshing change has been the treatment of the Gods as human characters by Amish. It's refreshing but not entirely new. I have encountered similar characterization before, notedly in S.L Bhyrappa's kannada novel "Parva" (also available in Hindi with the same title).
Amish has done a great job, though at times the language jars, which I believe can be improved in his coming sequels with some tight editing. Especially funny was the part when he goes round and round to describe 'idli', yes, Shiva is served idlis in this book. Apparently people in 1900 BC made idlis in northwest India, now Punjab. One suggestion though. One shouldn't read the book to verify one's own historical interpretation of mythology and history of India. It might not match with that of Amish. Amish's take is quite interesting otherwise. I liked the book overall. I would wait for the next two books in the trilogy.

Tiru

Cog in the wheel

2009-04-04T18:33:00.004+05:30

I joined an organization. I joined at a level lower than what I would have been had i continued in the industry and not taken a break to prepare for civil services exam. I am happy with a lovely wife and am looking forward to a cute baby expected anytime soon.

When i was in the break, and was not working, I always felt I was different from the crowd. I used to look at the morning office going crowd and take a long drag of my morning sutta and wonder at their mundane existence. I used to see the speeding bikes and cars while i jogged back from the gym in the evening and wondered how it would feel to be one of them. An anonymous face in the crowd, working for some organization, on some technology or support function, contributing a small part which might make a miniscule difference to the world. Waiting for the weekend on weekdays and waiting for the salary on month ends.

I wondered how it would be to settle down in life, a wife, a child, a small home to return to every evening. How would it be to have a little amount tucked away for future and live happily in today.

I wondered. And the more I wondered I realized that I might not exactly fit into such scheme of things. I might get bored with the regularity and the clockwork life.

Now things are different. I have joined an organization. I go to office, put all my efforts in the work, I don't even waste a single minute in checking my personal mails, I don't surf the net, all my concentration is on finishing the work and get some more. My boss is afraid of me as he knows that the moment he keeps me empty I will say "man, I am free, give me work".

I was bulleting back after work yesterday. There were other bikes and cars speeding back home with me on the road. I paused at a signal for it to turn green. And then it struck me. I saw a boy smoking a sutta with chai on the roadside. It was me, separated in time.

I no longer wonder how it would feel to be a cog in the wheel. I am one.

The Recession

2008-12-29T10:22:00.003+05:30

Sitting jobless at home is scary. Especially when you are actively searching for jobs and are not finding one. The subprime crisis and the financial meltdown has finally caught up with me. The company that offered me a job and asked me to join as early as possible has now put my offer on hold. The lady from HR department called and somehow conveyed that the recession has eaten away my job, though she miserably failed to establish the link between some banks in US lending money to hippies who couldn't pay back, and my job under consideration. Anyway, she hung up by saying that she will try to get back to me as soon as possible, and when the situation improves. Many probablities to overcome in her sentence. 'try' to get back, 'as soon as possible' and 'when the situation improves' etc.

So I am currently trying at other places. Searching for jobs is an experience which can only be compared with the experience of constipation. You want to get it, but you don't. You want it to come your way, but it won't. But once you get a job, the experience swings to other extreme and you reach loose motion area. Once you join one job, you will get better offers and calls from other consultants. You don't know where to hide. Either extremes is not pleasant.

I sit whole day, waiting for someone to call. I go to internet and apply wherever I see any requirement remotely resembling any word in my resume.

Meanwhile my friend Somashekhara Gowda, who too went behind civil services and is now looking for a job is constipating. He is now looking at positions for lecturers in engineering colleges. I too had a fleeting thought of teacing at some IAS coaching institute till recession recedes and the days of loose motion begins. But with an experience of more than 3.5 years in industries (and more that 5.5 for Gowda), it is a real low. In a fortnight, you might find me doing exactly that if i don't get any job. Decent money too.

Personally, the situation is not bad. Last year, when i was looking for a job, it was Raghu who was sponsoring my chai, sutta and rent. My brother was contributing for the food. This year, i don't need suttas (i gave up), and my other expenses are taken care by my biwi- the girl who adopted me few months ago. She's in office while I sit here and type this. I go around in a car in contrast to the BMTC buses last year. I am getting a 500cc machismo bullet as my birthday gift (yes, biwi gifted me a bullet!) and I dine at the best restaurants in the town and sip chivas regal. My personal life rocks.

To overcome the feeling of guilt and shame of sitting at home, I use logic. I talk to myself, this way. "Tiru, look in the present. Right now, you are sitting in a sofa, typing this on a nice laptop, your stomach is full, you have money and all modern comforts. And you know you will get a job today or tomorrow. So you need not worry. In fact, you deserve this joblessness after years of running behind targets and exams. So enjoy. Make the most of it while it lasts. Learn Matlab and mathematical modelling. Read novels. Watch the cartoons. Spend time with biwi as you might not find enough time for her once you get through civil services or get a job...." and so on.

But every evening, when i see the office goers returning home, I realize that a day has passed without any indication of a job coming my way. Then biwi comes home. She smiles and i forget everything else.

Tiru

My PJs

2008-07-08T08:53:00.004+05:30

You are a pervert. Biwi says. I agree. I invented some perverted PJs recently for the junta. here's it

PJ1:

What would krishna's mom say when she wants him to pee and then go (to bed).
Ans: Gopi Krishna

PJ2:

What does it mean when you say Radha and Shyam are in congress or say radha is in congress for past 20 years?
Hint: congress also means sexual intercourse.
Ans: you got it (and i have decided that i will never join congress party...i don't want to say, 'I am in congress for past 20 years' anytime later in my life)

PJ3:
What sound does Rajnikanth's towel make when he moves it from one shoulder to the other?
Ans: Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

PJ4 (not mine, i heard it somewhere)
Monk to his followers: Sects sects and sects, that's all you can think of night and day! I don't want any sects.

PJ5:
What's the sign of a true Yogi?
Ans: He who can CONTROL when the CUNT ROLLS is a true yogi.

Will add some more later...

Tiru

The itch

2008-07-08T08:26:00.003+05:30

Why blog? He asked me.
I asked him, why scratch? (he was scratching his balls)
To relieve the itch, he replied shamelessly
I have blogger's itch, I said. He shut up.

I like blogging. I said it was my hobby in one of the interviews and the members of the board asked me many questions right from 'what 's blogging'? (ignorants) to 'tell me why do you blog'?(probants) to which of course, i couldn't give them the scratch reply. In one of the mock interviews (which was more or less mockery interview compared to actual one) one of the jackasses on board asked me: How can you improve the situation in the country using your blogs? Gee, take that, he beat me at thinking shit. I wanted to reply: sir, i would write blogs that would reduce everone's itch right from dhobi's itch to the oye oye B tex itch. Then everyone's hands will be free, and away from balls, and that way Indian men will be able to work. That would make our country prosperous. But i just smiled and gave him a funda on how great writings uplift masses (if they are literate of course!)
Anyway, the phenomenon of itch is something difficult of explain. why exactly it itches is something that is an interesting case in research history of medical science. The reason is still not clear but more or less they have concluded that it is due to the inflammation of the never endings nears the skin which gives the sensation of the itch. I would have accepted the view if they had explained why exactly scratching reduces itch? Medical science is yet to reply satisfactorily to this question.
Anyway, that's not the point here. Actually there's no point here in this blog if you look at it carefully, but only itch reduction. I am trying to reduce my itch. aaaaahhhhhhaaa what a relief. As my finger glides on the keyboard i feel the itch reducing. I am feeling orgasmic delight from the tip of my fingers. i feel as if i have multiple clitori on fingertips. And the small projection, like an underline, on the buttons of letters F and J on the keyboard are rubbing against it, giving me heaven minus the moans.
But what's this, I got real itch now. Sitting and sweating while writing the blogs have given me itch on the bums. So I am reducing the actual itch now. Let me scratch and come back....

Tiru

The hydrocele-phobia

2008-02-23T12:04:00.001+05:30

I was stretching in the gym and i saw a guy using the cycling machine in front of me. I had decided to go for aerobics today. I am trying to reduce the fat in my body, to get that lean, mean look. And it’s not easy. I ran on the treadmill for around 20 minutes and then I came for cycling. There were only five cycling machines and all of them were occupied. On four of them, there were girls and the fifth was still occupied by the same guy. I wanted to start cycling before my body cools down. I didn’t feel like going on the stepper or the ass-bender; the machine on which one pedals with hands and feet together, in standing position. That never gives me good workout. So cycling it has to be. I pondered for a moment. I can’t ask any girl to get down; the gentleman in me would never allow me to do that, and waiting is not my habit. So, the guy it has to be. And he is cycling for more than 20 minutes. And he has kept it on ‘easy’ so that he can pedal long. Asshole. I then thought of an idea. I walked up and stood near him and said:
‘Hi, would you mind if I tell you something?’
‘I am Sai’
‘I am tiru, sigh, nice name’
‘you want to cycle?’
‘Are you getting down?’
’10 more minutes’
One girl got down by the time, but I didn’t go there. I had decided something else by then.
I said: ‘Sai I want to say something to you’
‘go on’
‘if you cycle so much, you will face problems’
‘what problem?’
‘you might get hydrocele’
‘what’s that, i have heard about it somewhere’
‘it’s a serious condition, you balls will swell’
‘swell? why?’
‘Ya, the water fills in the balls and it might swell so huge that you might have to carry it in your arms when you walk’
‘Really? you are kidding’
‘No i am not, i swear’
‘Does that happen to all?’
‘No, females are spared’, I replied
‘he he he, i know why’, Sai had brains.
‘How do i know how much time i should cycle to be safe from hydrocele’, the question from Sai followed.
‘Good question, it’s like this. After cycling for 10 minutes, you get down. Stand erect. Shake your arse so that your balls too shake. If they don’t, they are getting harder due to formation of lactic acid and when the acid recedes it will be replaced by water and you might get hydrocele. So you should never let your balls harden like the biceps when you work out’, I demonstrated it by shaking my waist vigorously and touched my balls to feel it and said, ‘see, like this’
‘O my God, the gym instructor never told me this. I think he is not qualified enough. You seem very knowledgeable’
‘ya, i have been working out for past eight years. Moreover, i also learn by observation. Have you seen Tendulkar? You might have noticed how he shakes his balls after every few runs. He does it to avoid hydrocele’
‘Ya, now i recall, of course, you are right man. Thanks a lot’
I gave a wry smile. He stopped cycling and went away. I climbed on the cycle and started.
After few days, I saw him again, this time too, on the cycle, but after 10 minutes, he promptly got down. He took his balls in hand, and shook it like Tendulkar does after every 10 runs, and walked away.

Tiru

office communicator...

2008-02-19T16:40:00.001+05:30

Employee-A [7:21 PM]:
achcha ye bata...mera pachas hazar tankha hai...mere haath mein kitna aayega...
Employee-B[7:21 PM]:
tera salary structure kya hai?
Employee-B[7:21 PM]:
variable hai kya?
Employee-B[7:22 PM]:
mera gross on paper 56K hai .. around 38-40K aata hai...
Employee-A [7:22 PM]:
mere variable fixed hai...20% of 6 lakh...but abhi 6months tak wo fixed hai 75%.
Employee-A [7:22 PM]:
bata mere haath mein kitna aayega
Employee-A [7:22 PM]:
jaldi...andaz to bata
Employee-A [7:22 PM]:
lagbhag bata de...chal jaldi kar...
Employee-A [7:23 PM]:
kya yaar..kitna time lagata hai....just tell me mere haath mein kitna aayega
Employee-B[7:23 PM]:
35-38 ke beech
Employee-A [7:23 PM]:
galat
Employee-B[7:23 PM]:
kyun?
Employee-B[7:23 PM]:
kitna aayega tu hi bata...
Employee-A [7:23 PM]:
mere haath mein abhi bhi ek lund hi aayega...6 inch ka…aur kuch nahi...;-)

शुरू हो गयी मामू...

2008-01-17T12:07:00.000+05:30

वैसे तो ब्लॉगर में हिन्दी ओप्शन काफी दिनों से है पर मैंने उसे आज ही देखा...या यों कहिये, के आज ही पहली बार मैंने उसपर अपना हाथ चलाया (मैं अपना हाथ और भी काफी जगह चलाता हूँ, वो बाद में बताऊँगा)। और क्या बोलूं, मैं तो फ़िदा हो गया यार...अब मैं हिन्दी में भी ब्लोग लिखा करूंगा...लेकिन क्या लिखूं...सोचकर आता हूँ॥

तिरु
(वाह यार, अपुन का नाम भी हिन्दी में क्या मस्त लग रेला है)

Basanti's Izzat - A case study

2007-12-10T11:17:00.000+05:30

(This blog is only for people who have watched the movie called Sholay and remember the scene where 'dakus' chase 'Basanti' and take her to 'gabbar', the head daku.)

Take 1:

In the whole movie, Basanti never oils the wheels of her 'tanga' (She is never shown doing it). Therefore, when the time comes to save Basanti's ijjat, the wheels give away.

Moral: One may loose ijjat by not oiling one's wheel. Preventive maintenance is hence very important in manufacturing organizations. keep you machines oiled. And in service sector, giving good incentives to employees is equivalent of that.

Take 2:

Basanti's Ghodi (the mare) impresses in the scene where it runs faster than Dakus Ghodas (horses) in order to save Basanti's ijjat. I wondered as to how a Ghodi can be so fast. I now realize that the intention of Daku Ghodas towards Basanti's Ghodi (Dhanno) was not any holier than that of its riders towards Basanti, ie. wrt. ijjat. So in fact, Dhanno was running to save it's own ijjat, not of Basanti's and hence the great performance.

Moral: Employee participation is hence important. Make employees the stakeholders in the company, then they will run to cover their arse and the performance of organization will improve.

Take 3:

The dakus capture fleeing Basanti. Basanti was fleeing as she knew that her ijjat is in danger. nevertheless, the Dakus catch her. But they do not take her ijjat. They take her to Gabbar. Even Gabbar doesn't take her ijjat but just makes her dance on broken glass (take my ijjat rather than doing it, i would have said). Why? i still don't know.

Moral: An employee hijacked by headhunter doesn't necessarily lose his loyality to his previous company (doesn't lost his ijjat). So welcome back the previous employees if they want to come back.

Take 4:

Basanti is caught and taken to Gabbar. Dharam Paji (veeru) comes to rescue her from losing ijjat and himself gets caught. Basanti had to dance on broken glasses to save dharam paji (jab take tere pair chelenge, iski saans chalegi).

Moral: Never hire consultants to save the organization from trouble. They themselves will get caught in details and will make the organization bleed (dance on broken glass)

Vocabulary help:
Ijjat: Respect, but much more than that in bollywood movies, and very difficult to define. It basically resides in male's pagri (hat) and female's, er, ahem...i mean if one rapes a female, her ijjat is gone (meri ijjat lut gayi), more or less.
Daku: dacaoit
Basanti: The female lead of the movie sholay
Gabbar: The villian

Piano Player in the whore-house

2007-12-04T16:38:00.000+05:30

I feel like the heading. With all the prosperity around and empty pockets of mine. I have so many desires and no resources. I want to roam around the world, eat to my hearts fill, buy gizmos, wear posh clothes and zoom in a sports car. Alas! I can only see them but cannot afford. Just like that piano player in the whore-house, who can only see the whores around but cannot buy one for a night!!

Tiru

Kaggundi Venkateshwara Tirumala

2007-12-04T16:26:00.000+05:30

Scene 1:
(In a DTS bus somewhere in Delhi, the boy and girl are sitting next to each other, both strangers and the conversation follows)

Boy: :-)
Girl: :-)
Girl: Hi
Boy: Hello
Girl: I am Pooja
Boy: I am Kaggundi Venkateshwara Tirumala
Girl: He he he, don't joke, tell me your real name.
Boy: :-X!!!!!!!

Scene 2:
(Outside an ATM counter in Delhi, a credit card wallah is waiting to catch customers to sell credit cards)

Salesman: Sir, would you like to buy our credit card, we have special offers and....
Man: Why not? I would love to have one.
Salesman: Sir may i know your name please?
Man: Hold on. I have one condition. I will tell my name once and only once, if you get it right, with correct spelling, I will take it, otherwise just forget it......ready?
Salesman: (with a pen a paper in hand) yes.
Man: Kaggundi Venkateshwara Tirumala
Salesman: er...please once again sir...
Man: Bye

Scene 3:
(In an interview)

Interviewer: So Mr er....mmmm....Mr. Kagg....kaggund.....er....mmmm....what shall I call you?
Me: Call me Tiru and may I know your name Jackass?

Tiru

The hard buttocks wala

2007-12-04T16:11:00.000+05:30

My buttocks are calloused. That is, the skin is hardened. When I touch my buttocks now a days, I feel hardboard, the kind i used to write exams on when I was a kid. My posterior is calloused due to constant sitting on the chair while I prepared for civil services. Also the shape of my buttocks is like ) rotated by 90 degrees. i.e. like a U. Moulded to the shape of moulded plastic chair, due to constant sitting. I guess it happens to everyone who prepares for this exam seriously. It may happen in different ways to different people. Like my ex roomy Sandeep. He got piles. I think he sat in such a way that the pressure on buttocks pushed out his guts through his anus and this is what the doctors call piles. The doctor gave him a tube to push back the stickling. Also an ointment to make the process smooth. I still remember his painful screams when he did that.
I wonder if God too has calloused ass. O God! Is your arse as hard as mine? It should be, given that you sit there all day listening to our prayers. Or is it that your chair is better cushioned? If yes, watch out, you might get piles. And if that happens, Sandeep may lend you his tube and ointment, now that he is done with his preparation phase.

Tiru

The third person narrative

2007-04-22T15:14:00.000+05:30

Tiru went for the medical examination the next day after interview. He took the metro train to 'shahdara' and from there he took a cycle rickshaw to GTB hospital. On cycle rickshwa, he felt as if he is a king overlooking his empire. The rickshaw made him feels superior, maybe because of the height. However, he didn't like the idea of another man pulling it and asked the man if he can cycle the rickshaw while the driver sat behind. The driver vehemently refused the proposal but tiru persisted and then tiru cycled the rickshaw and the driven sat behind all the way. Tiru offered him a cigarette and the driver smoked while tiru huffed and puffed. On reaching the hospital the rickshaw puller who had enjoyed the trip refused to take the money and in fact thanked him for the cigarette.
He went inside and in the maze found the room for medical check up. Tiru gave the letter to the nurse who jotted down the name and told him to sign at a couple of places. She then took out another form and told to fill it in duplicate. Tiru filled it and by the time he was done, some other candidates who had been interviewed the previous day came in. As Tiru had arrived first, he was sent first to one doctor. The doc took blood pressure, chest measurement, pulse, height weight etc and then told tiru to jump 25 times. He jumped, wondering all the time as to what it was all about. Then doctor took the pulse again. He was then told to go out and wait. The next candidate went in. Tiru was now sent to an adjacent room where another doctor was sitting. There were some more candidates here. The doctor called out his name and told him to lie down. Then the doc pulled the screen and told tiru to remove his shirt and felt the liver etc. Then he told him to stand and remove his pants. Tiru obliged.
"Remove your underwear too" Said the doc putting on a new pair of gloves.
Tiru had thought that after his parents who had seen him naked in his childhood, he would show his wee-wee only to his wife and to no one else but this guy looked formidable. And moreover, He was told that they would check his balls by his roommate who had attended a similar medical check up a year ago. And with one's pants down, one can't run away too. Better to relent.
"OK sir" and he slid down his undies
The doctor caught tiru's balls and started teasing it. He was in fact checking for hydrocele. It was tickling. Tiru couldn't resist the temptation and started giggling. The doctor gently gave a pull to the balls and commanded,
"Stop giggling" said the doc
He immediately stopped. One doesn't take risk with someone who has your balls in hand, he thought. The screen was short and Tiru's head was above it. He looked outside. Some other candidates were waiting for their turn.
'Wait till you come here and he catches your balls' He thought.
At the same time he wondered as to how many balls this doc might catch in a day. Today there were around 15 candidates. So 15 into 200 working days per year makes it 3000 balls per year. My God! What an intimidating number. If this guy has worked for 10 years then it makes 30000 balls. I might be the 30000th one. And tiru smiled at the thought of it. He even worked out a poem:

'All things bright and beautiful,
All balls great and small,
Few balls big and wonderful,
The lord God made them all'

"Cough" The command came from the doc who had the balls in hand.
"Ough ough"
"Cough louder"
"OUGH OUGH"
"Ok, Now turn around and bend" The doc said
He turned around and wondered if the doctor would do something undesirable now. No no, how can he. He might be checking something. But checking what? Maybe to see if I am a homosexual. But how can one make that out be looking at my arse. Anyway, he bent and closed his eyes. He wondered if he should have sprayed some deoderant on his arse this morning. But the instructions didn't say anything of that sort.
The doc parted the bums and had a look at the anus and said
"OK, you can put on the pants"
"What were you checking sir?"
"Piles"
He immediately put on his pants, thanking God that the ordeal is over. It was the highest order invasion of privacy but one has to do bear it in order to get a government job. He came out and sat with other candidates while waiting for other sundry tests like eyes, ears, bones etc. The candidates were sharing their experiences of interview the pervious day. Tiru spoke to his neighbor,
"I found out a job which i would not be interested in, come what may"
"What's that?" the other asked.
"The job of that ball checker"
"Gee. Don't worry. That's not all that bad if you happen to get only lady patients"
"What?? You mean he checks the ladies too"
"Just joking man...if that happens, even i would leave civil services and join here"
"Yeah me too" and Tiru imagined all those wonderful young ladies undressing in front of him and bending down.
He went along with others and had a nice time till afternoon when the chief medical officer came and decalred the results of medical examination. He declared Tiru fit. He felt happy. He came back to the room in Jia sarai.
Sandeep, his roomie had a hearty laugh at Tiru's adventures and declared, "These doctors don't mind. That's a part of their profession and they act like professionals. Your balls are just a biological entity called testicles for them and they see only tissues and cells when they see that and not balls. Understand that. It's with service mentality that they work."
Before sleep, he went to pee. He had a hard look at the hanging tissue/biological entity. Heck! it might be just loose hanging tissue with two sperm generating machines inside it but for me, they are what make me what i am. I am nothing without my dear balls, thought Tiru and his balls seemed to smile and agree.

-the third person

2007-02-18T18:06:00.000+05:30

EK MACHCHAR

Mosquitoes have 47 teeth inside their mouth. I read it just before sleeping. The thought didn’t leave me till I fell into deep sleep. Then, in my dreams a mosquito appeared. With full 47 teeth. But it was not a small one that we see. It was a huge one. Like a buffalo. And it had that blood-sucking pipe too. Like a donkey’s dick. I was immediately afraid. My God! If that mosquito sucks my blood, I will be down and out in no time. That very moment, the mosquito looked at me, grimacing. Mmmmmmm…. it flew….mmmmmmmm…and charged towards me…..mmmmmmmm…..i ran…mmmmmm…..i ran faster….mmmmmmmm…..i started flying…….i was surprised…..i had wings!!……mmmmmmm…..they made sound like that mosquito’s wings……mmmmmmmm……then I saw my nose grow like Pinocchio’s. It was now like donkey’s dick. Heck! I became a mosquito. I was now afraid. I wanted to check what sex I am when I am a mosquito. I don’t know how to check sex of a mosquito. I searched my body. Under the bulging stomach, or whatever you call that bottom part of mosquito. I felt I am a male but I was not sure. No science book told me how to check the sex of mosquito. But I am sure I am a male. I feel it that way. Then why is that other mosquito chasing me? Is that a homosexual? No it can’t be, as I never heard about a homosexual mosquito. That means I must be a female and that one chasing me must be a male mosquito. Now it will fuck me. Rather rape me. O my God! I felt like Basanti in Sholay movie and that mosquito was no less than Gabbar’s men.
The other mosquito was a fast flyer. It caught up with me in no time. I decided to fight to protect my ‘ijjat’ (or whatever you call, ‘pagdi’, ‘laj rakh lo’, 'main tumhare bachhe ki ma nahi banna chahti' etc). The other mosquito came next to me, didn’t do anything special (I mean anything sexual) and just started flying with me. I was relieved. I looked at it. It looked friendly. I thought of befriending it.
“Hi, machhar” I said
“Hi asshole”, Mosquito replied.
“Why did you call me asshole?”
“Because you are one”
“Why?”
“Because you are running away from me”
“I thought you would rape me”, I said, feeling embarrassed.
“Come on, that’s not possible, I don’t rape hijras”
“What nonsense, I am a male, I am not a hijra”
“Abe, suna nahi kya, ek machchar aadmi ko hijra bana deta hai” The mosquito said and flew away.
Gee…how true and I was unnecessarily worrying about saving my ‘ijjat’. I was relieved. And it was morning. My alarm rang. I got up. I immediately checked. Phew! I am still a male. And yes, thank God! I am a human. It is easy to determine sex of humans.

Tiru

Vocabulary help:
Hijra: Eunuch
Ek machchar aadmi ko hijra bana deta hai is a dialogue from movie Yashwant (Nana patekar), which means a mosquito makes a man, eunuch, gee…that’s a poor translation but that’s it.
Suna nahi kya: Haven’t you heard?
Ijjat: (from izzat of urdu) Respect, but it means much more in local terms.

2007-01-20T16:39:00.000+05:30

PANCHO

"Hanuman must have been a Jat", Sandeep (himself a Jat), my new room-mate declares.

"Interesting, but why do you feel that way?", my natural question follows

"Because only a Jat can slog all his life like an ass for someone else without expecting anything in return".

'Jat' is a caste predominantly found in Haryana, UP, Delhi and Punjab. They were classified as one of the warrior classes by the British. We still have a "Jat" regiment in our army. Jats are brave by nature or maybe the expectation of the society makes them to behave in a compliant way, i.e. bravely. They are also famous for not applying their brains. One hears things like "Haryana ka jat, sola duni aat" (a haryana jat says that 2 times 16 is 8). People also expand JAT as 'just avoid them'. They are famous to pick up fights with/without provocation. One good thing about Jats is that they don't hide emotions, they just pour it out (based on my first hand experience with my room-mate).

But I liked something else about Jats. I liked their language. The way they speak. Typically, each sentence begins and ends with 'pancho'. Now, 'pancho' is derived from the term 'behenchod' (sister fucker) but doesn't represent the vulgarity that goes with the word. The pronunciation is like this. The part 'pan' sounds like 'pan' of frying-pan. 'cho' sounds like cho in chosen. One should hear it to reproduce it perfectly. The way it is said depicts the mood. So the friendly 'pancho' can become angry 'PANCHO' in an instant.

A thundering 'PANCHO' from a Jat can scare away 10 men. That's manliness you know. But i believe there is something more to this word called 'Pancho'. From psycho dynamic point of view. There is some work remaining to be done in this regard by me before i put forward the theory of "Pancho". It's very dark and is an indication of the way our society is constructed.

The work may take time but i will get back...till then...keep 'pancho'ing.
(to be completed....)

Tiru

2007-01-11T12:17:00.000+05:30

The joy of farts

Farts are as common as they can be. Everyone has farted one time or the other in his/her life. However, the naturalness doesn't mean acceptance. Society scorns at someone who dares to do the godly act in public, especially if it is loud. But the darker version of fart is the one that is silent. Whoever said silence speaks louder than words, had farting in mind i believe. Rather, he might have farted that sentence into air. For others to smell. The arse is mine, the nose yours. Like the arse of Assistant commandent of BSF (name witheld to avoid litigation) sitting next to me in 2nd AC compartment of Indian Railways while travelling from Delhi to Bangalore recently.

Ah the power of Air conditioned compartments. To understand my situation you have to understand how an air conditioner works. No, not the compressor and valve parts, but the ratio of recirculated air part.

Every AC has a certain recirculated air ratio which can vary from 0% to 80%. i.e. once the cool air (or warm) is sent into conditioned area, a part of it is recirculated back and remaining is taken fresh from outside. Both mixed, conditioned (humidity and temperature modification) and let into the conditioned space. In hospitals, 100% air is fresh (i.e. no recirculation), in offices it is around 50% (i.e. 50% recirculation). the ratio changes based on requirements of the room which again depends on latent heat loads and sensible heat loads. For the railways i have assumed a very conservative figure of 33% recirculation because of excessive leakages from doors etc. Recirculation is required to decrease power consumption. More recirculation implies lesser power. But staler air.

Now this Assistant commandant (abbreviated as AC of BSF henceforth) was a big time fart. Some flatulence problem. How do I know for sure that he was farting and no one else? Because, on that unfortunate day, we were only two in that compartment (OK, there were some cockroaches and ants too). I was not farting, so it has to be AC of BSF. I don't believe in the theory that cockroaches or ants can fart. So, he farted.

No noise, mind you.

He used the silencer in his arse.

It stank. He was reading a cine magazine and leering at he babes in them. He thought I won't notice - or so I guessed. My body rose up in revolt but i controlled it. Yoga helps in controlling the breath as you know and i tried that. I prayed that the stink would go. Had it been II sleeper it would have vanished in no time. But no, this was II AC. The fart was recirculated and 33% came back. i.e. full one third. Many of my brain cells died. Again it was recirculated and one ninth came back. Next time it was 1/27th. By this time it was full 15 minutes (i assume an air change of one compartment per 5 minutes guessing an air change of 6 times per bogie per hour + toilet air change and losses). By this time i felt that i can take it. Either my nose cells that detect fart were dead or the amount of fart in air had reduced to an extent where it was less than threshold detection level of my nose. I was happy, for a moment, and then he farted again.

I also recall an incident from my earlier days.

I am six feet two and well built. Once i was attending some spiritual discourse and there was a small gathering to listen to a guruji or so. It was in a house. There were around 50 of us squatting on floor. The females were sitting in three columns and n rows and males were also in similar arrangement though a bit in disarray. The guruji was seated in front. No mike was required as it was a small gathering. A serious discourse was going on. There was a lean and small oldie sitting in front of me. He slowly lifted his small arse above the ground and made a loud noise ddddrrrrrrrrrr...I generally feel like laughing whenever someone farts loudly. But this time the laugh was caught in my nose. I saw that everyone was looking at me in an offensive way. Guruji had stopped for a split second in his discourse and looked at me and continued but all these fellows continued to stare till infinity, or so i felt. Even the females. I wanted to shout and tell them that i am not the culprit. But how to tell? O God! What a humiliation. How can they even think? Is it my fault if i am big. How can they assume that only big guys can make that loud a fart. All the time, the actual criminal was blissfully listening to guruji. Then slowly he too turned around and looked at me.

My blood boiled. Asshole!, you son of a bitch with a small arse and a large fart, I will pin you down, sit on your fuckin face and fart till the sun turns into a read giant or collapses into a white dwarf. I wanted to shout that loud but i just said it in my heart. Alas! i couldn't do anything. The reputation (if i had some) was gone. The damage was done.

I never went to that place again.

There is a shloka on quality and effects of farts in kannada/sanskrit: It goes like this:

"Dara buru bhayam nasti, tissakara maha ghoram,

Kui khuss kanta kaddenchaha, nishyabdham pranasankatam"

It means, "dara buru", loud fart is not a cause of fear, fart with a sound of "tissssss" (hissing) is a dangerous foe,"kuiiiii" or "Khusssss" sounding farts smell as if someone has cut your throat (the pain is equivalent to that), and if the fart is "nishyabdha" ie. soundless then assume your life is in danger, i.e the stink will be that bad (pranasankatam). These are various types of farts. The mightiness of farts as a weapon to chase away unwanted visitors can never be questioned. My sincere suggestion is, fart loud if you fart, otherwise never fart. Control it and keep it up your arse, for the sake of others, puhlease.

Tiru

2006-12-16T12:16:00.000+05:30

The joy of journey

What's in a journey? Let's generalize. What's in travelling. What's there in working? What's that we get by preparing for an exam? Why do we slog?
The simple answer is: We reach the goal. The desitnation. Reward. Success. hmmmm....simple answers are generally not complete. Sometimes wrong. I don't know whether it is true in this case. Let me explore.
Iam preparing (appearing to be tech. correct) for an exam. Civil Services to be particular. It is a journey. The destination is to become an IAS officer. I have my own reasons for undertaking this journey (which can be a subject matter of another blog...want some time to think on it) but whatever, i have undertaken it for the reward. My eyes are on the end product. Success. IAS. You may have your own journey towards something you want. A promotion, a hike, a better job, a good wife/husband etc.
It was fine for me till i cleared the first stage. i.e. preliminary exam. I had the second stage of exam which was much bigger in depth and width. The mains. While preparing for it, i poured all my energy. The goal was always in my mind. It was fine till i neared the exams but as the D day approached, i realized that my enthusiasm is dropping. Somehow i wanted a shortcut to reach the destination. The journey was now tiring, wearing me down, taking a heavy toll.
Had it been a journey from one city to another it could have been easily done. Catch a flight instead of a train and you shorten the hated part. But it is not possible here or in similar situations. This is when i realized that one cannot just have the end in sight and undertake a journey. So the books which preach about keeping the goal in sight etc. are stupids. Assume if someone hates travelling even by plane and wants to just disappear from one city and appear at another, without wasting a nanosecond. Now what? Shall we invent a transporter? What if i want a hike without all that slogging and screwing my happiness?
So, this funda to undertake a journey to reach a destination is not that great after all. So what can be the correct scenario?Okay, i did some research and found something interesting to share. Here's it:
The funda is called "Journey is the reward" funda. Yeah, it's an old thing. But effective. When one enjoys the journey, he is not thinking of destination, in fact, he feels sad when he reaches the destination as the journey (which he/she was enjoying all the time) is now over. So if one enjoys the journey, one need not bother about destination as long as journey is in the right direction. The destination will come in no time. Ask someone who travels first time on an Aeroplane or on a train. Especially if the journey was short. Ask someone who joins an organization for the first time and the first month of his work. See the point?
What if one still hates journey. The answer now is in Karma yoga. It is too complex to explain in plain english without making this blog too lengthy. If you are truly interested, i might help you. I did exactly that to get back my enthu and prepare further. I now enjoy the journey. I am least bothered about the result. Let me enjoy. The joy of this journey.

Tiru

2006-12-07T12:12:00.000+05:30

Joy of being God

Wonder how God feels when he looks from above. Does he see what I see. I stay on first floor in an obscure building of Jia Sarai, New Delhi. I sometimes look down and try to feel like God. Let me describe what i see. I see people doing their business as usual. But i am not interested (as God is never interested in these things i believe). Now there is this lane (rather a gully) which passes next to my house. When i look down, like God might be doing from heaven, I see clevages. Yes, from the top, one can see nice views of ladies' clevages. I guess how much the God loves this. Just sit in heaven, have a super vision and watch clevages.
I have seen many clevages in delhi. Generally Delhi girls have generous bosoms. Something to do with the kind of diet they take i guess. Then they have excellent dressing sense. I call any dressing sense which exposes the clevage as excellent! And then I stay on first floor. I am almost God. I didn't say God because God can create clevages whereas i can only view them. I have only user access, God has administrator access. I sometimes envy him. If he gives me administrator access i will create a cleavage which people won't forget for 10 generations. That's another story for some other day. I observed some things which i would share. Delhi clevages are binary in nature. i.e. 0 and 1. Either they have beautiful clevages i.e. 1 or they have absolutely huge (of mind boggling proportions) bosoms which resembles a 0 (zero). The zero is all encompassing, huge. You and I and everyone in the world is inside it, that's how i feel. There is no fuzzy logic (fuzzy is anything between 0 and 1). I believe that these zeros that i see today were 1 some day. They have now become zero. And funnily enough, i never see the transition clevages. Only zeros and ones. so what does that mean. Let me think like God. Ok...got it, it means that the transition period is very small. So the rate of change of clevage value from 1 to 0 is infinity. Wooooosh. Lo the 1 becomes a zero.
Now i am a keen observer you know. Godliness is not that easy. I,tiru, the mighty blogger, through my piercing observations (which pierces their thin cholis and sees the clevages if covered) have found something more. About the transition period from 1 to 0. i.e from lovely clevages to huge clevages. I see that the transition period is around 2 years after marriage. The girls have 1 clevage (i.e. lovely clevages) till they are girls and get married. The moment they are around 2 years after marriage...something happens...woooooooosh...(yes the sound effect should be there for dramatizing the change...)....and lo the guy who married starts weeping. What he saw is not what he got. He sees a 1 and marries and then gets a biiiiiig zero. If the hindi saying "haathi ke daant khane ke aur, dikhane ke aur hote hain" (elephants have different set of teeth to show and different to eat..clumsy translation) applies somewhere, it is here.
I now know why it is said that Heaven is above us and hell is below. It is all because from above you can see clevages and from below you can't...But i guess hell people also have good time when girls walk in skirts or in minis etc. They have better view of some other things. Then it is no longer hell. But as delhi girls wear jeans..so hell in delhi is hell. heaven is heaven. First floor is heaven. I stay in first floor. Who stays in heaven is God. I say in heaven. therefore I am God (yep..without administrator access though).
Yesterday, i was having a surrchai on first floor and was looking down, as usual, you know what. Suddenly the girl looked up. She saw me doing Gods work from heaven. I was watching her friends clevage. It was 1. She said something to her friend. I thought that the girls will now walk off mouthing some bad things about me. But something else happened. They giggled and the girl turned fully towards me and started talking to the other girl. For once, i feel i am not God in understanding what girls want. Atleast i pretend not to understand seeing my financial difficulties in maintaining girls. I have to be a Kubera God (God of money) to maintain girls from delhi. I finished tea and crept back to my room. Meanwhile the 1s and 0s walk around.
Wanna share the fun? Come to my room. Lets do Godly act together. And yes, get a cigarette and tea while coming here. That's entry charge.

Tiru

2006-11-03T12:09:00.000+05:30

Got up with a jerk. Felt very light. Never felt this light before in 27 fucking years of my life. Saw the time. 2.30 am. Few hours to go. Let me pee. Think i got up because of pressure on the bladder.
Switched on the lights.
eeeeeekkkkkk!!
what's that on the bed?
My God, it looks like shit.
I shout out loud, "Shiiiiiit".
Suddenly i see, to my horror, that the shitty stuff which is not more than a couple of kilograms, forms a recognizable mouth kind of thing and calls out my name, "hey, tiru, you asshole!"
I don't know whether to shout, run out of my room and touch the high tension wire outside or pee in my pants.
"Be a man, you dumb head" the shitty stuff calls out.
Ya, it looks like shit, no...wait a minute....it looks like guts. How can it come here and what is it?
I decide to give a courageous try and ask, "Who are you....i mean what are you"
"I am your brain, you dumbo"
"What?? what do you mean?"
"Yeah, can't you see for yourself. Don't i look like your brain?"
"you do...but ...but...how can you be out?, I mean how can i be thinking if you are out...it's crazy...am i alive?"
"Don't worry, a small part of me is still inside you...that is sufficient for you to take care of all your activities...anyway, you don't use more than 2% of me. Even Einstein used only 5% and he was one of the best. You are just an asshole, so 2% is more than enough for you"
I now know why i felt so light when i got up. This shit was outside my head. The part which i was not using. Now i am not afraid of this stuff.
I ask: "But why do you look so dark and why do you smell so much?"
The brain, i mean my brain replies: "you asshole, you think only dirty things all day. Your thoughts stink. That's why i stink. And you smoke. you smoke a lot. That's why i am black. From the fuckin soot of you cigarette smoke. Do you understand that dumbo"
"Yeah kind of, i am sorry, i didn't know it hurts you so much. But that ain't no reason to jump out of my head. I may need you sometime you know".
"No, don't worry, i just came out to have some fresh air. I will get right inside whenever you sleep again"
"Then i am going to sleep right now".
I switched off the light, hopped on the bed and tried to doze off. It took quite some effort but i did it at the end.
I don't know why but my head feels light today. Maybe, the brain went in after getting lots of fresh air. Or maybe it never entered back, it just ran out of the window. I don't know. My room has some funny kind of stink though. Was i dreaming? was that a nightmare? or is this the dream. don't know.

Tiru

2006-04-30T15:39:00.000+05:30

Newton's law and love

Well….How good was Newton? I mean, how good he was when he proclaimed that law of universal (mind the word universal) gravitation. For illiterates in physics, let me explain universal law of gravitation in layman’s terms. It basically says that between any two bodies in universe, there exists a force of attraction and this attraction is directly proportional to the product of masses (i.e. more the masses of bodies, higher will be the force of attraction) and inversely proportional to the square of the distance (i.e. more the distance between the bodies, lesser will be the force in general).
Now, as Newton included the term ‘universal’, and proclaimed the law as ‘Universal law of gravitation’ I guesstimated that it must hold for any ‘body’ anywhere in the universe. Agree? Well, you won’t after you read what happened with me. I applied the same law for attracting girls. Well, what’s wrong?
I found that this law simply doesn’t hold. That’s why I am angry and writing this blog. So, at last, after around four hundred years of formation of this so called greatest law, at least there is one exception found (OK, I don’t know theory of relativity).
I was initially thin (less mass) when at school. I was in love with another frail young girl in my class (still lesser mass). She was never attracted to me (initial condition). I applied Newton’s law now. As I couldn’t do anything with our masses, I thought of decreasing the distance between us. I exchanged my place with another classmate who sat near to her. Still, nothing happened. No attraction. Now, only one thing remained. Increase the mass. Well, even without any attraction between, we used to speak to each other as we were in same class. So, I once told her to eat well at home (in fact, I wanted her to remain that way but for the sake of Newton I had to suggest her otherwise). She was mighty wild at me that day and pressed me hard to tell me why I said that to her. I didn’t give the reason for the fear that she might think I am a ‘crack’. She told me to get lost with my crazy idea. I was devastated. Now only one thing remained. Increase my mass. Oops….my heredity has some limitations here. Nevertheless, I joined a gym. Worked out solid and by the time I build some sensible mass on my 6 feet 2 inch tall skeleton, I was out of school and into the college. The girl was long gone defying Newton’s law of gravity with another guy who had a micro layer of skin on skeleton. Nothing in between.
In college too I continued the gym at the cost of all fun in the world. Every evening when others enjoyed their time, I was huffing and puffing in the gym, increasing my mass. It fetched me a gold medal in university level bodybuilding competition and a bronze in power lifting but never a girl. All the time Newton was taking a beating everywhere. I saw guys who couldn’t walk straight and without masses in front or back (their jeans would come down and one could put a bunch of roses in their rear cleavage) hanging out with girls with still lesser masses.
I still had faith in Newton and all those scientists who still vouch by that stupid law. In retrospect, I should have guessed that they all had arranged marriages life.
I came out of college. I had a job now. I gave a last chance to Newton. I tried falling in love with girls having good mass (I refrain from using derogatory terms as some of my friends do have considerable masses). In office, in parks, restaurants, cinema, wherever I could find any girl with considerable mass, I would look at her (rather stare) with desperate eyes and a prayer for Newton in heart. I would also go near to decrease the distance. Still it didn’t work.
I know it. This whole world played a joke on me. Saala, that Newton. The biggest joker among all. If I see him anywhere, I will kick him hard. He should not have used the term universal. He should have used ‘heavenly bodies’ or something like that. He has ruined my life and I don’t know what to do with the mass I have grown. I look like hulk now.
So bhailog, if you fellas think Newton’s law still holds, better get up. Better late than never. Get out of that slumber and understand the truth. NEWTON’S UNIVERSAL LAW OF GRAVITATION SUCKS. (So does all those inverse laws of attraction like magnetic law)
Hold on, I just saw a girl with some mass moving into this cyber café. Let me try my luck. I am going closer to her. Will keep you posted.
Bye

Tiru - the Victim of Newton.

2006-04-01T16:56:00.000+05:30

the joy of stink

mmmmm...i love summer. No....not mild summer but the hot one. Real hot when one sweats from one's chaddis (MS word didn’t recognize the word ‘chaddi’, I added the term to dictionary, it will learn all these words in few days..BTW chaddi means underwear). That’s when one can put ones hand inside the chaddis and rub the fingers between his thighs under the balls (or the counterpart if one is not a male), and then, smell it. Wow…I love that smell. Yes, the stink. Sweet stink of evaporated secretion. Ah…heaven can’t match the bliss. I get some kind of kick out of that. I wondered why I like the smell. I got the answer while browsing a site on sexual behavior of animals. Now, don’t ask me why I was doing that. That’s personal. However, I would share the results that one should know. The type of scent produced (ya dodo, the one I was sniffing sometime back) are called “copulins” and “human pheromones.” He he he. Did you know that?? How does it smell like? Mmmm…It’s like salt and sweet, bitter and mild, hot and spicy, smooth and hard 50-50 like the best honey from tropical jungle mixed with piss of an ass. Why don’t you stop reading this and put your hands into you chaddis. It would be easier that way. OK, let me share something interesting now. Direct from some serious research papers on these stinks and smells and how they influence things.

"Why do bulls and horses turn up their nostrils when excited by love?" Darwin pondered deep in one of his unpublished notebooks. (He never had his face in the right place I believe) He came to believe that natural selection designed animals to produce two, and only two, types of odors--defensive ones, like the skunk's, and scents for territorial marking and mate attracting, like that exuded by the male musk deer and bottled by perfumers everywhere( now you know what they put into those lovely bottles). Now, I know why that stink is out there. It’s there to attract the opposite sex. Do you believe that?

Scientists noted that humans engage in very little scent-driven socializing--compared to, say, the urine-washing displays of monkeys (during which urine is rubbed on the feet to attract mates). Wow, that should turn her on. Let me try it next time. I will bottle my piss and spray a little whenever I want. Also wherever I want, so don’t fight with me…ever.
Smell researchers Barbara Sommerville and David Gee of the University of Leeds in England observed that smelling one another's hands or faces is a nearly universal human greeting. (Not in this part of the world though. O how I miss being English!!) The Eskimo kiss is not just a rubbing of noses but a mutual sniffing. "Only in the Western world," the researchers point out, "has it become modified to a kiss." Hands and faces may be significant choices for these formalities--they are the two most accessible concentrations of scent glands on the human body besides the ears. (Ya…you can’t poke your face between the legs in the very first meeting).
Now you know how important the smell is. As an engineer, my brain always thinks about the applications. So I have a plan. The smell is produced perpetually from human glands at right places (shall I mention them??). Now, I am thinking of catching some healthy individuals form human race and put them in hot room so that they produce these in ample quantities. I will collect it and store it in bottles and they will be diluted and filled into pressurized small containers like deodorants. These bottles can be marketed as ‘turn on’ stuffs. A small spray would be sufficient to turn them on. I need a sponsor for this. Anyone game?? My mail id is with the blog.

Tiru

P.S: Will you shake hands with me next time you meet me?? I am also rhinothilexomanaic (read another blog at the bottom to understand that term)

2006-03-19T12:07:00.001+05:30

An Ode to R S Khurmi – by a mechanical engineer

There are two types of mechanical engineers. The first type studies hard, works through foreign author books like Shigley, Bevan, Dieter, Streeter etc, solves unsolved examples at the end of the chapter. This breed doesn’t watch movies as there’s no time for that. No girlfriends and no fun or fests for them. They have to put copious amount of oil on their head to lubricate the fundas read from those books. Life becomes just a monotonous dhrupad raga of dagar brothers (of Hindustani music).
The second type enjoys life. This breed spends half the time in canteen or ladies hostel, depending on preferences. Has time to catch up with the latest movies and music, change girlfriends, play sports, compete in fests and go for treks. Life’s rock n roll. What’s the difference? If you are careful, you might have seen it. The second type reads Khurmi books. Just before the exams. Maybe the previous night.
Are you a mechie?? (or chaddi mechie like IP, Auto etc)
Before saying yes/no, try this question? Have you heard the name “Khurmi”? If yes, you are. If no, you certainly are not, irrespective of the fact that you might have a degree in mechanical engineer from any AICTE recognized university.
Any student of mechanical sciences in India, irrespective of college or state, must know Khurmi. It’s OK if a mechie won’t know Shigley or Bernoulli (not to be confused with Burnol, the after burn cream) but without Khurmi, it’s just next to impossible to get a degree in mechanical engineering. Atleast in this part of the world. Who is Khurmi? Any mechie will tell you that he is the author of books in mechanical engineering. Books? Yes, books. Literally, he has written books for almost all the subjects of mechanical engineering. Right from Thermo to Design, you have kurmi everywhere. You name the subject, there’s a khurmi available. Theory of machines, R&AC, Machine Design, TD, Manufacturing Science, Workshop tech, heat transfer….you name it, Khurmi’s been there, written that.
Understanding Khurmi is a tough game. At least for me. His books contain thousands of worked examples and bare minimum theory to explain the fundas. ‘One learns by examples’ is the motto I guess. The profile of author is never mentioned on the books. Perhaps there is something that the Publishers want to hide. Or perhaps Khurmi is just another pseudonym as O Henry was for William Sidney Porter. Well, that just ensures that nobody would recognize Khurmi on the roads (Students can’t worship him, lecturers can’t throw stone at him). Khurmi is an apt personality for the ad punchline: Professor’s envy, Student’s pride.
The anonymous Khurmi is by far the best selling author of mechie books in India. His sale of any individual book exceeds all other authors combined together in any given subject. What Shigley, what Bevan, and who’s dieter. They are all laloo lanterns in front of Sun like Khurmi. Khurmi, the Napoleon in the world of technical authors. Any challenge?
Khurmi is universally hated by all professors in all engineering colleges. Perhaps it’s the case of grapes gone sour. They are in fact jealous of success of this one man industry. I remember the first design class when my prof told us “If you have Khurmi, good, you need not worry about heating your bath water for couple of days, you can use that book”. Another prof quipped: “If you read Khurmi, you will become Kurma in exam”. But my personal experience says that those who did not study Khurmi became good kurmas in exam. All questions were directly picked up from Khurmi. Perhaps, I guess the prof who set the university paper was lazy (or was his brain kurma??) to create new questions and picked it from Khurmi. That also saved his time of solving and providing model answer for evaluators as all problems in Khurmi are solved ones.
If foreign companies throng to India today, there is a big contribution of Khurmi in that. Because of him, 90% of the mechies could ever pass out of the college. If India has numerous Deming prizes for excellence in quality in manufacturing, let’s not forget that there are engineers who read Khurmi and passed out and have worked in such industries. So Khurmi should be recognized and respected. If not for technical expertise (heard he is an MA in English, don’t know for sure) then for the service he has done to the mechanical industry. I think Khurmi certainly deserves a Best teacher award, if not a Padmashree. He he he.
This blog is just to say a heartfelt Thank You to Khurmiji. Please go on Khurmiji. We don’t understand a word of mech engineering if you are not there. Even UPSC sets it question papers from your examples. We mechies know that everyone hates you, but trust us, we will never let you down. Our fundas may rot in eternal hell but we will get good marks, thanks to you. Only you know how to screw the current examination pattern of Indian universities. Others should learn from you. Because of you we have a life, we can go to movies and have fun. Hats off to you. Hail Khurmi. As long as mechies are there, your name will reverberate in this universe of books for mechanical engineers.
BTW, if you happen to read this blog, please enlighten us about your background. We are not ashamed even if you are MA in English, we too don’t possess any knowledge in mechanical engineering fit for anything better than BA in mechanical engineering. We read your books.

Tiru

Thanks to Naveen PR, based on whose comment, I now have some updates about Khurmi ji. Here it goes (as on Dec 2010):

He Completed his professional studies from Phagwara and Delhi. He started his career in Punjab Irrigation Deptt. As an Engineer. After guidance from Professor Das of Chandigarh Engineering College, he came to Delhi and took up Teaching and Writing Engineering Textbooks as a full time career. His books got a good market, not only in India but also abroad. According to the survey of UNESCO, he is the leading and No.1 Author of Engineering textbooks in Asia. He wrote his first book when he was just 26 years old. People in teaching profession always referred that Khurmi has revolutionized the way of writing Engineering Textbooks. He was one of the founder members in Executive Committee of Afro-Asia Book Council. He conducted Author Development Workshops at many palces in India and abroad

2006-02-26T16:52:00.000+05:30

The curse and defence of duryodhana

O children of the world, rejoice today. Rejoice that my curse has come true. Celebrate and enjoy.

Wonder who i am? You didn't recognize ME? I am the mighty Duryodhana. Of the Mahabharata fame. I know you will call me the wicked one. Wicked? yes, wicked I am because YOU made me wicked. You didn't give me a chance to prove myself. You never understood the complete story. Wicked duryodhana. The cruel one. The cheater.

I took you all together that day like a man. I was a man in life, was a man in death. Give me a chance now. Listen to me like a man, if you are one. You have forced me to come out and defend myself. You have maligned me to the levels where my soul couldn't take it anymore and i had to come to shout sense at you.

I know that you never respected a true fighter like me. You name your kids "Arjuna""nakul""sahdev""yudhistir" and even "Bheemsen" but never a "Duryodhana". Do you know the meaning of 'duryodhana'. I know you never bothered to look up. My parents too loved me like anybody's. They named me "Duryodhana" as it means 'the one who can be conquered in war with great difficulty' (dur - with difficulty and yodhana - in war). But you won't name your children 'the one who can't be conquered' as you were the one who shut your eyes on the injustice meted out to me.

You were the ones who sided with Pandavas for giving them my Kingdom, the hastinapura. Let me also tell you that those five can't use the word 'Pandavas'. Pandavas were never born from Pandu's seeds. They were sons of various people. Three of them were sons of so called Gods from Kunti and two from Ashvinikumar through Madri. They were at the most, Kuntiputras and Madriputras and never son of Pandu, the Pandavas.

How can I part my kingdom to those who are not born in my family. I refrain from naming them bastards as i respect them for their ability to fight. There was not a single 'gene' of my family in their body. Kunti was brought from outiside through matrimony and she produced children with outsider's help as Pandu was not capable (due to a curse, as the story goes). They were also not legally adopted by my family. 'Niyoga' (the tradition of producing children with help of others when husband is not available/capable) is not accepted in the family of Kuru. How can you blame me for fighting to retain my family's Kingdom. And yet you did exactly that for last thousands of years. You do it even today. Every child named on 'Kuntiputras' is a slap on my face. My soul churns when duryodhana is laughed at.

Now you'll count the numerous wrongs done by me right from lakshagraha incident (fire house incident) to Abhimanyu's death. But did you ever see what 'rights' i did? Have you ever pondered for a moment on what wrongs did Kuntiputras do. Let me count it for you. They tried to snatch away my kingdom by claiming it wrongfully. They killed Bhishma by posing that 'no man' shikandi in front of him, knowing well that the great fighter never fights with eunuchs. They killed Drona with a lie. They killed my best friend karna when he was not fighting and engaged in mending his vehicle. That was the most cowardly act I have ever seen in my whole life. Even before the fight, they snatched away the most potent protections from him. The so called mother of Karna, put restrictions on him on his style of fighting by telling him not to use the same weapon twice.

Then comes the most wicked act. The act in which i was killed. Smitten by all the above incidents, i was taking rest inside the pond to regroup my physical strength. They called me out to fight. Now, I am a fighter by birth, I cannot run away from fight. My religion is to fight. I would die even before thinking of plying away from battlefield. Bhimsena was never a match to me in Clubfight (Gada yudha). I could easily crush him. That's when the vasudeva interfered and gave him hint to hit below the belt. That was wrong. Against the rules. You watched. The whole world watched. My trunk was broken like a cut tree. Everyone celebrated. Bhimsena put his feet on my head that day. They entered my kingdom in front of my eyes. With broken trunk, an immovable half body, i was a mute spectator, waiting for my death.

You rejoiced. You rejoiced that day on the death of a fighter. You rejoiced for the wrong cause. You made the same Vasudeva, who adviced Bhima to hit me at wrong place, a God. You celebrated and churned stories and poems on the glories of Kuntiputras. I was made a villain in all. A fighter is called a wicked person. You never gave me credit for fighting for a cause. Pained deeply fromt he wounds inflicted by this world, from the deathbed my heart gave out a curse. I cursed you all for siding with Kuntiputras.

"MAY ALL THOSE WHO CELEBRATED TODAY ON DEFEAT OF A TRUE FIGTHER, ALL THOSE WHO STOOD LIKE EUNUCHS AND WATCHED THE INJUSTICE METED OUT TO ME, ALL THOSE WHO REJOICED WHEN WRONG GOT AWAY SCOT FREE WITHOUT PUNISHMENT, MAY ALL OF THEM SUFFER THE SAME TILL ETERNITY AND LET THE WORLD WATCH IT LIKE IT DID TODAY - WITH DEAFENING SILENCE"

Today, when you see America getting away after bombing Iraq. When you see the gun wielders getting away with murder. When you see the poor getting crushed under the feet of globalization. When you see the poverty of the country, people dying due to lack of food while some are celebrating, when you see corrupt politicians ruling the country, understand, UNDERSTAND that my curse has come true. The world watched like eunuchs that day. It watches even today. It is my curse that it won't become a man again.

Yours truly

Duryodhana - the fighter who fought for a cause.

2005-10-20T15:49:00.000+05:30

Surrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr….tch………Surrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr….tch………Suuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…..tch…..Suuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr……..tch…aaaaaah.
Krishna, the guy who shares ‘quarter of my cubicle’ stares at me (in disgust, I might add). I say quarter of my cubicle, as I believe I need the whole space to accommodate my frame size and as Krishna is quarter my size, he occupies quarter of my cubicle. Anyway, the disgust on Krishna’s face is not unique. I have seen the expression on countless faces innumerable times whenever I am myself. I mean when I have tea in my own style. Surrrrrrrr…….tch.Will count the advantages later but let me explain how to produce the noise that irritates everyone. Actually, you need some active help from canteen walla of your organization. He should have skills to prepare chai that resembles DD1 ki dast waali chai. Remember the ad “Dast hue bachchon ko nariyal ka paani ya halki chai pilayen” on DD1? (Translated in English: “Tender coconut water and low viscosity tea recommended for loose motion kids”) The ad used to appear right after that “pachas paise mein teen” or “nasbandi” ad at 9 PM. Assuming that canteen walla is adroit (my organization employs canteen wallas based on the criteria of preparing ‘dast waali chai’), you have to take 3/4th cup of the stuff preferably in chinaware cups or better still if you can get a ‘kulhad’ (earthen cup). Now, slowly touch it to your lower lips and tilt the cup until the level of the liquid becomes horizontal to your tongue. Move your upper lip away by 3 mm in order to create an orifice now. Gently inhale the air. The high velocity of air over the surface of chai will create the low-pressure zone as per Bernoulli’s equation on the surface leading to flow of fluid upwards. The venturi effect thus generated will suck some chai with the air creating the gentle sound: Suuuurrrrrrrrrrrrr……..Now slowly, adjust the orifice dia by moving your upper lips to get the optimum sound that universally irritates everyone. Genders, caste, age no bar. Irritation baar baar. The finishing master touch can be given by making the sound ‘tch’ after surrrrr stops. That will irritate even a deaf. Surrchai as described above helps you solve constipation, say ‘difficult motion’ problem. Equally, it solves any ‘loose motion’ (as told by DD1). This happens due to the formation of mixture of air and tea known as Etretia buxifoglycol. Ehretia buxifolia is scientific name for tea. Vigorous shaking during mix up near the lips activates the nerve endings at those points leading to enhanced feelings while kissing. Well, Surrchai can’t get you a partner for kissing; personal experience, but it sure can make you lose one. That’s surrofication for you. Surrchai also provides relief from unwanted relatives especially nagging aunts strict on discipline. They avoid your family completely during visits to prevent their kids from catching surrchai disease. Surrchai also gives you relaxation from Bosses, nagging colleagues and unwanted cubicle guests. Till surrchai lasts, solitude guaranteed. Take my word. No one grows immune to it. Krishna would swear. The biggest advantage of surrchai is that it gives a chance to be natural. Be yourself. Two hoots to manners and etiquettes. Suppression of basic desire leads to diseases. Sigmund will testify that acting unnatural is not healthy. One last benefit, Surrchai, sardard bhagaye. No headaches. The hangover of yesterday’s farewell gave me a headache and a cuppa of surrchai kicked it out faster than Chappell kicked out Ganguli. Yep, it did get me some extra stares as I was in complete mood for surrchai today. There are two things for which I would not give a damn what others think. First is grass, second, surrchai. The combination is killing. After a joint, the surr gets longer and vibrates in the brain till the next surr begins. The feeling is pure ecstasy. It’s like the universal sound of ‘aum’ vibrating in the universe, never fading out. Try it once; you’ll come back to me. Anticipating the surrrrrrr winter days in Delhi, I long to have surrchai on the terrace of some obscure building in Jia Sarai with warm sun at 11 AM and freezing temperature. Sure, Surrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…..tch is the best noise human mouth can ever produce, after ‘ma’
Till then…..surrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…………………..tch

Tiru

2005-10-05T15:47:00.000+05:30

The joy of nose-picking

Sitting and staring blankly on the cubicle walls, fingering the nose, is my favorite pastime. One should have the knack to direct the finger right to the solids inside the nose and pull them out. Automating the process is quite difficult due to the advanced control systems involved in tracking, tactile sensoring to locate nose solids and course correction algorithms for the fingering object. I contemplate that region-building algorithm used for edge detection in robotics might help if/when humans try to automate nose picking. Nevertheless, it would never replace the fun of using fingers. To find solids in nose and ears gives more thumps in the heart than finding treasure in any treasure hunt. The joy of seeing the picked brownish (or blackish depending on how much pollution one is exposed to) boogers sticking between the nails and skin of the finger can never be matched. The pleasure can be enhanced if booger (yep, the solid you got out from nose) is rolled between the finger and the thumb. It’s like sharing the joy between two people. The finger in this case sharing the loot with its neighbor, the thumb. Irrespective of the gender, breed and genetics, fingers and nose holes are mass manufactured in divine factory for interchangeability. No geometric tolerancing can produce better fits than the ones produced by Gods between fingers and the nose. That reminds me of something else that has such a close fit but I refrain from mentioning it openly to avoid dirtying my writing. It’s upto reader’s guess. Do I see red cheeks? Nose picking should really be referred to as rhinotillexomania (rhino=nose, tillexis=habit of picking at something, mania=obsession with something). So, the next time that you see a person picking their nose, tell them that they are a rhinotillexomaniac. Can Norman Lewis beat that word? I got this term for nose picking from Internet. Well, there are some guys out there like me, thinking words for nose picking. Ha ha. Hope they are also suffering from acute sense of frustration and boredom after resigning from their jobs and not getting relieved leading to think about terms for nose picking. I also plan to write a book on “The art of picking”. It will beat “The art of living” in popularity due to the fact that followers of my book will get instant results which can be measured in terms of booger bits scratched from nose whereas Sri Sri has to depend on feelings and non measurable results like peace of mind. The immense satisfaction resulting from a clean nose free of boogers can only be matched with something like Nirvana. A clean nose leads to movement of clean air into the lungs. That's something pranayams in the world try to achieve. Ayn Rand, somewhere in ‘Atlas Shrugged’ muses that a cigarette in the hands of man represents the victory of mankind over fire. Once man controlled fire, he became the master of the world. A man holding a cigarette is true representation of a ‘thinking man’. Well I beg to differ Ayn dear. There is one more posture more representative of a true ‘ thinking man’. It’s a ‘nose picking man’. A man, who ‘picks’, is the man who ‘thinks’. Ha ha, someday, this quote would be associated with my name. I am proud to pick. So next time you catch me doing rhinotillexomaniac act, you know I am thinking deep. Don’t feel disgusted; I know you too do it sometimes. How do I know? I know because I know you think.

Wait for my next article on “the surrrchai…..joy of having tea”.

Tiru