Excursions

I am a coder and a writer. And it is absolutely painful to have these two personalities live within you.

When the coder wants to code, the writer is checking his choice of words or the structure of comments. Or the depth of documentation -- the writer wants the coder to write an essay. The coder wants to bloody put bullet points, command followed by command. What ends up happening is I take minutes to name one method because the writer didn't like my choice of verb. Urghh!

On the other hand, the coder makes the life miserable for the writer in me. All the writer wants to do is focus on penning words together. Get coherent, and impactful. And all the writer is whispering in his ears is, "Look at that font and the colour scheme of the editor. That doesn't look nice, right? What if there is a better editor? What if you make one?"

All the writer wants to do is read intently, and there is the coder shouting at him, "Why isn't your website this beautiful? Look how efficiently it uses JavaScript? Or doesn't use it at all." Anything and everything can get the coder excited.

Boy, given the pain this causes, I'm surprised am still a coder by profession and a writer by hobby. I, at times, feel they could very well kill each other one day.

I have a pretty common first name (or given name as it is called at some places). It’s so common that even the movie characters with my name have rarely had any significant part to play. I believed my surname was uncommon, making the combination unique. But I was wrong with my assumption – boy there are so many Amit Gawande’s out there on Facebook, the “universal phonebook”. Yo namesake morons, why are you still using that app?

The names from European countries always fascinate me ¹. Every name sounds so unique. And has such a complex tone to it – it’s new every time I hear it. And if I think I’ve already heard it, they adorn the spelling with an extra “z”. Fantastic!

Having a common first name sucks. Having it end with an equally common surname sucks more. Good luck getting high up the search results list ². I dread creating my account on any new service that is launched. I rarely get a username with just my first name – there is already a developer building that bloody service. With surname? Nah. With the first letter of surname? Nah. With a number or underscore in there? Yep, that’s what you get.

That also the reason why I respect the service where I could get that username with just my first name. Uhm!

Of course, if your aim in life is just to get lost in the crowd, be not know or just be, have a common name. But who wants that? Right? RIGHT?

It was second incident in last 2 weeks when I had to select a mobile number for myself. Now this activity may sound simple and non-important. But I always find it an extremely confusing experience.

Think about it. In front of you are the numbers “available” for you to select as your contact number. Now first thing you have to make sure is the number should be at least easy enough to remember yourself so you do not have to open your contact list every time someone asks for your number.

Now I always find one which is easy enough to remember myself. But it so happens that the way I say the number is always different from how the person who listens to it utters.

To elaborate, I speak the number this way 4 2345 85 15. (Spaces are the pauses I take.) So simple right. Now this is how the other person repeats it 423 458 515. I am like what the hell. It takes me few seconds to realise both of them are the same.

So the aim is to, if possible, select a number which is easy to remember/recognise, whatever way one utters it. And I very rarely find one.

That’s not all. Lets move back to the initial situation. As I said, in front of you are the numbers “available” for you to select. Available. For you. Only these numbers.

So basically these are the numbers which no one, who has selected his contact number earlier, found easy enough to remember. And I have to select one from them. I could, till date, never prevent this thought from entering my mind.

In the end, I always end up selecting some number which neither I, nor someone else could fathom at the same time.

PS: Just received a compliment of my number being awesomely simple. So mission accomplished the second time.

Cake was being cut. Everybody stood around the “oh-am-one-more-year-old” guy and all of them were like “cmon-cut-that-cake-now-you-moron”. I stood there hoping that the cursed words do not leave some jackass’ mouth. And they did, against my wish..

“Happy B’day to you… happy b’day to you..<blah blah.. blah blah..>”

Now 80% percent did hum along the first “Happy B’day to you”. The number, however, dropped exponentially after that. The last “Happy B’day to you” was wished just by a single dumbo. Big time embarrassment I tell you.

See I am not being cynical here. I am equally happy that this person neared his death by one more year. But the problem is no one sings that song with the feelings it was actually meant to have. Plus the guy for whom the song is being sung is equally embarrassed as those who sing that song. So question arises why sing it at all.

Moreover I always felt whoever sung that song for the first time had something anti-asian boiling in his mind. Why the hell will he compose the third line the way he did then?

Confused? Well you haven’t sung, on top of your voice, “Happy b’day dear Harmoninderpal or Au or Venkataramana” then. I have and let me tell you, it is very effort taking. Need an indication of how effort taking and difficult it is? Well try and make Nisha Kothari act.

So the point am trying to make is stop singing this song. The melody was picked up from some song sung by two kindergarten school teachers in some late 1800’s and it does not suit this age now. Go read details here. Stop being moronic and make all the people involved, cake cutters and cake eaters, embarrassed. Birthday celebrations would be lesser pathetic this way.

PS: This song singing always reminds of the way we used to hum the “maine pyar tumhise kiya hain..” song during antakshari sessions in front of the girls, which were the ‘things’ we used to interact with just during such sessions back then. Embarrassing, way embarrassing!

PPS: The key to the “since 1912” part in title is in that link I shared for this moronic song’s history. Go grab a bite.

Since I arrived in Sydney, this question has been discussed and fought and betted over so many times among we friends. I mean the moment a clearcut-non-firangi girl is spotted, the next question that pops out is “Is she Indian?”.

The reason is simple. Everyone wants to be on top of his face reading skills. ‘I see them and I identify them’ is what most would want to boast about. No specific take away expected, just a self-satisfaction. And anyone and everyone is ready to bet a coffee or a lunch or a dinner for proving his reign over the so-called skill.

Now gone are the days when it was assumed that if someone bets, he must be right. So no one agrees with other, rather he too bets along. Thus these bets always end up being unverified “my-word-to-his” bets.

But that no way reduces the fun in such bets. The theories each side has to defend his view are just innovative, patentable always. Every single aspect, the way she talks, walks, stands, puts on makeup or does hair, is used as basis. You see basics have to be strong every time.

However today was different. Another such case was spotted and a bet initiated. This time however both were determined to prove he is right. And decided they will go enquire and sort this out once and for all.

Now imagine a situation, when a couple of guys with a bearded attire, resembling a “just-woke-up-hungry-ready-to-pounce” looks, walk to a simple unknown girl and query “Are you Indian?”. Both have the “I-would-win” hope filled looks in their eyes.

What can a girl respond in such situation other than a straight “no”. I guess she would negate anything these guys say or ask including “Are you a girl?”. Well that didn’t solve the bet. In came the defence, “The way she said no straight away? She has to be Indian”.

So for me the bet remained unresolved though I commended their courage to carry this attire with such confidence in front of an unknown unidentified girl. The question still remained, “Is she Indian?”

PS: Girls from china, japan, taiwan, malaysia etc are out of discussion here. I don’t want to sound any way racist, but I will just say we all name them under one category and move along. They would be having there own internal discussion about their origins the moment they spot one.

PPS: Such discussions happen even in India when the skill move to a state level, i,e read a face and guess the state.

The beasts called elevators end up pissing me off every single time. I had rambled about these dumb asses earlier here. Go grab a bite.

If you have read that post, you will know that the ramblings mentioned earlier were particularly about those ill-chipped lifts of that underdeveloped guest house. But now I am convinced these shameless creatures are programmed to torture their inmates.

I mean think about it. What are the decisions these lifeless steel rooms have to make.. (Inspiration)

• Where do the people want to go?



• Where they are and where each floor is?



• What strategy they need to make so that they are cursed the least?

First decision is pretty simple. We make that decision for you, you bugger. You see those glowing numbers on the number pads we keep on pressing one after other? Yeah that is where we want to go. As quick as possible.

Second decision has a whole lot of mechanics behind it. I mean there are some shafts and then there are some holes on some vertical tapes and then there is some counting involved. I would surely like to go in details, but I don’t want to. So I won’t. Visit that inspiration link you see above.

However the part that puzzles me the most is the strategy because that’s when these supposed-to-be angels stop being ones and enter the devil’s land. Now these buggers have to strategise where to go, when to go and how to go. And I absolutely feel that they are not wired to do so. I mean how else can you explain the simplest of the things these dudes screw up.

How many times have you waited for an elevator to scroll right from 50 meters below basement up to the 14th floor when his other buddy is resting right at the 15th floor? Do they have some gentlemen’s agreement where one simply says “Can’t you see sucker I have just finished carrying 6 fat asses up and down thrice between just 2 floors. I am tired now and you can for sure handle these dumbos”.

How many times have you jailed yourself in a jam packed elevator as it drools itself down the shaft stopping and opening at each floor. If you are outside, those seemingly endless few seconds you spend when you apply all your permutation skills to see if you can possibly fit in any of the available gaps inside before giving up are just killing.

There are many other plights of these long travels between floors. But you see the point is the where, when and how part has to be strategised properly.

I will pen down the requirements for you. An elevator, for minimum, has to

• follow quickest path to you and quickest path to where you desire to go.



• open only if it can intake any of the fat asses, close and start the journey as soon as everyone hops on.



• understand when some mischievous fatty calls it, but does not want to hop on.



• not kill my mobile signal.



• close the doors faster so people get less chance to stop the elevator and say the meaningless “S” word again.

These are just a few suggestions that can make this floor travel not a sucking experience after all.

PS: On an unrelated note, why the hell does every single elevator has to have mirrors? Who wrote this unwritten law first? It just gives me one more chance for not letting the elevator know where I want to go and follow a journey to a floor undesired with this lifeless but life sucking beast.

Tomorrow I am going to travel through the time to the future me. It’s been long that I was planning for one such tour. However just for the need of the future currency, I had to postpone my travel to tomorrow.

In a moment, my friend will return from his visit. I have asked him to smuggle some future currency back to the past. To maintain the time conundrum, I will believe that, as of today, I do not know if he does bring it in. (However the fact remains that I have made the travel tomorrow. So this should clarify the doubts over whether he did. He did. Successfully. Believe me!)

Anyway there was some small calculation mistake while carrying the digit forward, which I normally do, that made me end up a day behind where I was supposed to end at, i.e. tomorrow. Now I do not want to disturb the normalities in here, the past world that is. So I will prefer hiding in this panic room and simply pen down my experiences of this drive.

The first and foremost observation, technology has spoiled the human race in there man. People only speak in command prompt queries. A sentence is no longer than 3 words, the longest (and oldest) being “I am sorry”. (And even there, people hardly mean it!)

Every single software is run by Google and hardware designed by Apple. There is an antique building called “Microsoft Live Centre”. I heard it has hanged in the messy green screen of death that displays a Matrixsque live feed of random numbers. Some say it has gone offline from the day it’s services were tagged “Live”. (By the way, don’t tell anyone. but there were still rumours about the apple tablet and google phone.)

However fun was when I met my future me. The way he was behaving I still feel, as Zaphod Beeblebrox would say, “if I ever met myself again, I will hit myself so hard I won’t know what’s hit me.”

By the way I wanted to tweet this there and then itself. But that future me just laughed at me when I said it takes 140 characters for us to share what we are doing. He mentioned even the novels are 20-30 characters long in there. The crypto-tex-pander fitted in each person’s eyes just completes the novel. Idiots I tell you.

Sat for lunch and there there was another surprise. Those idiots there hardly eat any food. They just gobble down the pills for all the necessary vitamins, minerals and whatever necessary for the body. Floored I was to see they even have the pills for the junk food. These future mens are idiots. Extreme idiots.

Oops!! Need to hide. Someone is crawling towards this dark damp corner. Will blab out the remaining idiocracies of the future. Trust me. There are many. Did I tell you what they have a UCC, a Universe Conservation Committee, a group fighting the Universal Enpansion? Well they do. Blab you later. Ciao!

Image Credit: Picturepost (Interesting writeup. Do read!)

You know that time when you just back out of a thing which might have saved you some bucks? It happens to me a lot, but this particular week gave me a double blow.

First incident was when i did not back out when i should, though debatable, have. I trolled along the darling harbor idling my time out just because i did not have any other place to go. Out of no dire need, i felt this itch to go to the public telephone booth and, well, do nothing.

I picked up the handset and there began my efforts to place a call. I don’t know why but this bud was heavily reluctant to let me do so. I gave up, placed the dial back and put my hand to get the coin back. In the open mouthed telephone lied another $2 coin with my $1 coin.

Fuzzy that my mind always is, there began a mahabharat between my ethical and non-ethical brain cells. Should i or should not pick this $2 up which does not belong to me? I don’t remember for how long i stayed near the booth but last thing i remember i had extra $2 in my pocket. Debatable if i should have picked the coin, but i did.

Fast forwarding 2 hours later. My idling location shifted to a mall where after about an hour i decided i have crossed my idling quota for the week.

I came out with my iPod plugged in and whistled along the road towards train station and somehow felt everything was pretty bright around me. I knew i had a train in another 15 mins which i should not miss as there was no other train for another 90minutes. My eyes burnt and my subconscious mind was aching for something. And there it dawn on me why everything was indeed bright.

Next thing i remember i was running towards the mall to find my goggles worth way more than $2 i had picked up earlier. Whole time during my run to the mall i was thinking was that $2 really worth all this pain of losing costly goggles and missing train.

Final blow, however, was about to come. I reached the mall, found a sensible looking pretty lady and asked if they have found any goggles. She looked more optimistic than what I was. She ambled inside putting me on hold. After some time, she came out and said something which ignited my fuzzy brain cells again.

She said they have found one goggles, but they were ladies and if I think mine were, well, ladies goggles, she will get them from the security. Now I did not want to make complete fool of myself in front to pretty looking and sounding girl by saying I wear ladies goggles. But i did not want to not make any try too.

I thought for sometime what to do and then putting my manly pride ahead, I remember I mumbled something and came out. Whole time afterwards, i was soothing myself by thinking this.

A visit to a supermarket is not something uncommon for me. Rather it is one thing which i like doing the most. Crawling between those numerous branches full of variety of products, i just lose myself glancing at each one’s properties… beep .. engineer’s blooper .. i should have said “each one’s labels”.

However, the visits are always satisfying and refreshing for me. And this is the first reason i find myself roaming in these lanes quite often.

Another reason for these frequent ferries is my lack of interest in creating the grocery lists. I have tried jotting them few times, but i so get lost within the products catalog that the chit doozes in my pockets.

At times i spend hours just ambling around the nooks and corners of a supermarket. A sensible mind might think what would one do for so long in a place so crowded, so noisy, so meaningless and so mean. But thats what i like about this place. I get my space in here with no one remotely worried about what i want. And that’s when i start getting choosy about each and everything i would buy out of this space.

First thing i need to do is put a limit on time i would spend in there. Once that is sorted out, it is all about marking my spots to ski along. Vegetables and fruits fall out of my interest and a hustling visit settles down the formality.

What follows is a child-like admiration for the variety of products manufactured, packaged, transported, marketed and sold at such colorful a place. A cheerful mouthfreshner sits in front of the saddened and ashamed toilet cleaner. Colorful chocolates sit next to the colorless eggs. And there i know its time to get lost. Get choosy.

And choosy i get. Tens of minutes are spent in front of each product looking for what fits better for my needs. I know sometimes i have spent too much time and worried i get thinking the cameras might caught me goofing around at the same position and i might be busted as potential terrorist. But what the hell  .. risk is worth it.

And then there are those times when i don’t get choosy thinking i know what i want and i have got what i want. And this is what i buy.

And this is what the description read (which i happen to read when i rinsed my mouth with this dude)

For healthier mouth, remind kids to brush their teeth and use Listerine Smart Rinse twice a day.

Listerine Smart Rinse for Kids 6+

Now that’s not just a random title that i chalked out. Actually it is a fact. I read today that a person’s brain is the most fatty organ in his body!

Surprised? Even i was. I mean common. How can a tummy, that can expand to store 4 liters of food i.e. 50 times its empty size, be less fatty than a brain? Even if it is fat, should i even care. I think no one is faintly concerned about some fat crawling over a body part which one does not ,or rather cannot, flaunt.

But as i snaked through the article further, i found one interesting fact. Thanks to that, i can now sleep as long as i want. It seems when a person sleeps, his brain gets busy to file away all the memories of the day. I can now disportingly say that “I am gyming my brain dude. Fats are crawling even in the blood vessels now and my brain does not want to die devoid of oxygen”. Put on a board saying “Fat brain at work” and rumble along the snoring dreams.

Oh yeah. Even regarding dreams there are few interesting facts that the brain spins. Have you ever questioned yourself why you don’t actually act what you are dreaming? Or even simplest form saying what in fact are dreams? I do have. Though one thing i missed is a fact that 12% of the people dream in black and white. I just have one doubt here. What is the criteria that decides whether you will dream in 35mm technicolor or age old BnW? Whatever, its just another example of pointless statistics.

Moreover it seems your brain cheats you when you sleep by releasing some kind of hormone which actually paralyzes you. The sole intention is to make sure you don’t wake up next morning bawling about your aching bum which you hurt when you were horse riding in the dream. In short, it makes sure you don’t act your dreams. How i wish the brain was not so cruel on mankind. I mean, won’t it be good to actually go ahead and gym out your body too as the brain is getting fat burned. C’mon, it does afterall know the burden of carrying along the extra fat

Anyways, few more interesting facts are canned at the below link. Just go ahead and tickle your fatty brain

http://www.environmentalgraffiti.com/sciencetech/facts-about-your-brain/7038

Just when i think not to trouble my mind, saturated by randomness to its full, i come across the little gems like this.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20090123/od_nm/us_goat;_ylt=Ag7ntPE15g0Li3_NWwySSlgSH9EA

Apparently police in Nigeria detained a goat on the suspicion of attempting an armed robbery. Yes. You heard it right. Goat arming itself up with a shotgun and making the Vigilante men stare down the gun nozzle? All for a Mazda 323? I mean common. A Mazda 323 can only be as useful to a goat as a padded two’s to Pamela. If you neglect the lone possibility of she pooping on it. If it has been for “hay”, there was at least a chance of this happening.

That’s not it all. Actually there were a couple of them. Dude, coupling Hayek with Pamela still keep padded ones look useless. Moreover a couple of goats stealing a car? I know scientists are trying weird experiments on animals these days like cloning n all. But i never heard of such advanced experiment of churning out a species with body of goat and mind of Anton Chigurh. Not even on the fastest news reporting channel on this bloody earth, “Aajtak”. So if its not reported on Aajtak yet, its not possible even for 10 years now.

Although the main part is what might suit the tastes of few channels here. You see actually they were two guys who were trying to rob the car when the Vigilantes confronted them. One ran and other turned himself into the goat. Now the dangerous little goat is in custody and the police are waiting to prove it scientifically that it actually is possible to convert a person into a goat magically(!). Now i get it. So it was not the goat who was robbing armed, it was actually a man.

But now that it is crystal clear, i do not have even a single word to speak? First thing they actually do not shoot the white n black beast wearing so dangerous a throne of horn right at sighting it. Secondly they ask to prove that it is possible that an armed man can be converted into a goat? Common. The scientist have long discovered the dose to convert the buffalo-like-hardly-rising small dumb little ball of flesh into an ultra-active-hard-hitting beast. They call it an energy drink which does transform a sleepy crawling man into an awesome enthusiast you see. So calming down the beast to a goat look alike is just too easy a job. Just a bit of physical transformation is required that’s it.

So here i urge the related police staff to take a strict action against the goat and hang her till her death. The man that actually has transformed himself into goat is too dangerous for this world and so are his accessary. I heard they are working on something which can make this happen…

I have been gliding in the darkness for around 3 hours now, for one simple reason. The tube light in my room suddenly felt a strong desire not to glow. It went on blinking at me, i guess trying to figure out if i have worn any .. pajamas or not. I did try and rotate it around, with it never returning me a stare. While spending my precious time there, stroking the keyboard in darkness, a question just poked its head out of the ruffled mind. Why the heck is the darkness there.

I mean, ok fine. I know why it is there. I do have scribbled through the endless questions on solar system and planets structure and their hecking orbits. But i am not concerned about its how it exists. Rather i want to know how useful is it. I just want to justify its existence with one hell of a random reason, the farther it is from the truth, better it is.

I feel everything that exists, does so for some random reason. Even the minutest thing like a microbe is there because it leads or conjoins together to form or shape something awesomely important like virus, lets say. Yes they are weighty in a sense to control the growth of the big parasites in the form of humans. Similarly something like air, whose presence cannot be seen, is there to blow the smelly farts away. The sole reason for such senselessly senseless arguments is to emphasize the point that, yes, each thing can be tagged with the reason for its existence.

But even the random mind of mine could not reasonify the existence of darkness. To develop films?? Nah, very few do that now and those who do it actually do it by pulling over darkness. We are focusing on the natural darkness that arises with night.  To sleep??? Nah, actually sleep has got more to do with the time than it has got to do with darkness.  What then?

I know i am acting a bit ignorant, by may be neglecting many scientific things. I actually want to because i want some reason out of my mutable mind. The only reason i can think of gives me goosebumps.

I feel the whole purpose of darkness is to hide the light. So darkness is not "non-existence of light". But actually it is the other way round. Light is "non-existence of darkness". Whenever there is something that nature wants to do without making humans aware, it pushes darkness in. So it must be doing something at each night. Intercourse? Quite possible.

An argument can be made saying people do put on the lights then. But actually you see, that's the reason they just blink sometimes rather than staring. And thats the reason am in dark today. Nature is at work. Reproducing :)

True. I try like hell not to listen to him. He goes on bumping my head. But i remain focused. He bribes me with what i like. He threatens me to run away and never return. I try not to fall for his tactics. But finally i do. I pretend i will shoo him away, but that's the whole problem. I pretend...

Just a scenario, perfectly captured by Dilbert:

Anyways this bloody culprit in Internet just doesn't allow me to work my plans. I plan not to plan any plan, so that i don't feel bad when this plan of not to plan goes helter-skelter, unplanned. Thanks a lot internet.

Let me explain a bit. I reach home with a plan to read my novel, just to find the internet 'psst'ing at me. Calls me out to check my mails, read some scraps, check out some news on tech n all. And everyday i do fall for something or the other. I unknowingly, or that's what i pretend, plug the cable on and surf through the net.

Actually i did well in between to overcome this weakness of mine. I never fell for anything of sorts. But again somehow he has caught another of my nerve. He actually works stepwise now. Makes me switch on the powerplug spike for charging my mobile. He knows i am pretending to be just charging the mobile and i will turn on the laptop next. And everytime he turns out to be right. I pretend to turn the laptop on just for a bit to work something out and shut it down. But he knows that is not going to happen. Once the laptop starts he reminds me of something i need to do on net. I again pretend not to be surfing the net but just using it for a moment. But in fact, thats what i turn out to be doing. Surfing the internet.

Sometimes i ask myself why do i even try. I know i am failing to boggle my mind away from this culprit. But somehow i think this is that cunning but wonderous buddy with whom you can neither subsist nor part. Yes, that's what he is. Cunning, but wonderous.

Nine... A number that has haunted me for more than a month. Would wake up with a stare at it. Take a shower, get ready and face the indolently eying number. Stagger while using it. Bump into it daily. On numerous incidents. Each one having a negative effect on my mood. Just adding to my already tangled life. Twisting it further. Something usual has happened today too. Today i.e. on 9th of this month. 9th. And hence this post.

Yeah i know. The prologue does seem a bit dramatized. But last part is indeed true. The normal routine things for last one-one n a half month have made me bump into '9', unusually, a lot. And it has succeeded in screwing up my mood on most of the occasions.

First up. The most common and tiresome experience of my life. I have been staying on the ninth floor of a "still-under-construction" n beta version of a 15 floored guesthouse. Thats not all. Its each and every part was under development and testing at the same time. And we, the guests, were bloody testers.

Lets start with a moment to reach there. You say use lifts. Simple right? Not so soon. The 3000 capacity guest house just had a single lift working for major part of my stay. Best being 2. You say "whats the big deal"? Ok, this lift can be any one of the 10 lifts scattered at various different locations on the ground floor. You say "uhh now thats complex". I say wait. Not all are on the ground floor. 2 are on first. Further take this. Each lift can take you only till/to a particular floor after or below which you have to scroll using stairs. Does that sound scary? Listen to this. The lifts were also in the "under-development-and-testing-part" list as most other parts and so had a most ill programmed chip fitted into her. Usual symptoms:

1. She used to wend  the 1st-> 0th floor path via 10th floor. That too without any entrant.
2. She used to suddenly halt its march on the most deserted floor, without sucking anyone in or puking anyone out.
3. She used to make you guess the time she would take to shut her doors for you. It ranged from sweet 10-20 secs after you are mounted or a quarter of a second by which you escaped getting crushed between her doors. (Yes she had no sensors to detect if you were in between her claws-like doors.)
4. She used to making a most ear-deafening moan if you make her wait for a little longer. (A typical girlish behavior. You are not allowed any mistake to be made on your part.)

By god's grace i did reach the coveted 9th floor most of the times. The fact that it normally took me around 10 mins on average matters least considering what lied ahead. The floor was divided, in true sense, in 3 parts using wooden walls. So care had to be taken that you end up in your part. Else you had to crawl through the stair case. The corridors were mostly cementy because of its under contruction tags with most confusing directions (refer snap). Air conditioners in the room worked on random basis and when they did they made my teeths tremble with cold. The taps randomly decided the temperature of the water that come out. (I have got my bum burned once. No further explanations.) The mirror was situated at the darkest corner of the room with the most clearly visible part being my toe nail.

I have spent 44 days in this complete mystery house. There were other encounters with nine like never returned 9 rupees as change at the food terminals, 9 cubicals that i hopped along or the  9AM alarm that brought with it the invitation to begin the journey on mystery land of nine. The tales of these will follow up sometime later.

Finally there was just one saving grace i had with me which provided me the sole reason to go through this tortourous journey. People close to me know whom am speaking about. But i am observing a striking pattern there too. Each 9th of a month brings with it some problems. I can't explain but it does. I hope this hauting effect of 9 stops pressing me to my limits. I hope it stops testing my patience. Signs are not too good. Post is published in the 9th hour of the second half of the day. Ninth hour. Nine.

I have always been faced with this puzzle for quite long now. What happened to me shouting i would have best house on the whole street? What happened to my plans buying the best car in the town? Where is that dream life with servants running all round? The fridge full of ice creams, pastries, chocolates, chicken (leg-straigntened sky-pointing turkey, to be precise) ? The television set running just cartoon movies day long with remote just in my hand? To be the richest man, the most honest person, the man blessed by blessings from poor, loved by one n all. The whole lust for attaining some position, achieving some goal, some ambition seems to be lost somewhere.

And now? Now is the case i have just one ambition left. Crawl through the work week mechanically just to feel and shout: TGIF... Thank God Its Friday.

Finally i have found the reason for this loss of ambition. See and examine it for yourself :)

Now i know who uhhh what is the culprit. And yes TGIF :D

Along my surf through the web net (hmm tautology), found a lively garfield (now oxymoron) cartoon.

Now same is with me. Truly i feel i draw a quite of  parallels with the dude Garfield. I am lazy, a bit overweight and i adore eating and sleeping. Even i hate Mondays (more on that here) and feel diet is a “die” with T. Me too hate spiders. A kind of sudden chill runs down my spine when i face that fraternity. Even the lucky bite for Peter Parker could not change my lovely hatred for spiders. I have tried entering a lot of weird things mind including fruits, mornings and various other animates and inanimates.

And this strip just elevated my similarity levels with garfield. I feel i, too, am a little too ‘Garfieldish' generous. I mean i provide my helping hand to someone just to end up with a feeling that i was too generous to do that. All because i was totally involved working his work out (!!!) I mean why do i have to do that. No need. What rather i should have done was to just provide a helping hand. Not my full hand.

I know garfield won’t have worked this way. He would never have worked this hard. I need to do that too. I need to learn that too. Stop working. Just provide the helping hand and remove it. Anyways the help hardly gets noticed in todays world. Am i turing selfish? Yep… thats another parallel with Garfield!

Now this is the topic that hits me everyday, atleast 3 times a day.. uhh .. usually more than that. Somehow i could not pen it out. Finally here it is. But before i move forward,  a confession. This post is mainly with reference to the males. Am not sure how it applies to the other sex. But lemme just blabber it out...

Each day i usually rise, heavy stomached and ill faced, from my seat. Do something awkward between strolling and bustling. Course the floors of my office/home. Finally bang the door and enter the place. And choose a urinal. Now that's where it is supposed to end. But it does not. Something more happens. More on it in a wink.

Let me first speak out the reason for this whole rush. Firstly i have somehow got molded into someone who likes playing with critical situations. Be it deadlines (not at work though.. have to say ... have to say..:P) or my daily chores. Secondly, its all about the pleasure one gets from the sudden and mountainous relief  through abundant pouring. I hope you understood.

Anyways back to the track. The most interesting part follows. Each time i visit the "relief camp", i see am not alone. There is this whole bunch of varied group and thats when my thinking cells awake and start noting few things. Now let me blog down few of my notes:

• Usually the bunch refrain from the meeting each others eye sight. Each time they do, there is this sudden jerk of the neck, as if something exceedingly hot touched the eyeball, throwing the sights up or out.
• Most of the campers stare at the roof, either with eyes closed or 'blink'less. May be the roof falls in between. What they are staring is the heavens. Afterall what one attains is, indeed, a divine pleasure.
• There are those few who are relieved enough that they start bubbling at their mobile handsets, basked in the abundant relief.
• If there, incase, is no vacant one, mind clog with this NP hard problem of where to stand and where to stare. Few follow the route to WC, few stare in the mirror rubbing their faces, few pridefuls even walk back. There are also those few who, just unknowingly out of all the unbearabe tension, wash off there hands!

Now there are few more notes in my mindbook. But for now this is it. Need to totter along. Need to attain the pleasure. Here am off.

"I start reading something" ... "I need to blog this" ... "Wasn't the other topic better?" ... "Okay stop. Let me read this out first" .. "Am done; I need to blog this" ... "I will blog this" ... "Let me get the topic open" ...  "Yeahh... my N93" ... "Oh blog;  .. theme ... no..  blog .. title .. wait ..post ... " .. "Where the heck was I???? "

Ok so this is how my thought train has been when i thought i will write this post. And lemme say, this just acts as the 'POF' (Proof of Fact) for what i will be writing now. Let us get on the same platform first. This post (Will you please not follow the links directly and loose this topic..Thanks) was inspired partly by this and this. I hope you are still there with me. Because if you were not for some significant amount of time, thats what this post is all about. Reducing concentration levels... POF you see ...

I am pretty sure most of the so-called experienced internet surfers would have reached at this point far late than they would normally have. Because i have become one of those and i damn know that he would atleast have done few of following:

1. Google for some random text (Default)
2. Peeped into GTalk friends list
3. Checked whether have received any new mail
4. Checked if all social friends are up and running
5. Followed into void via atleast 3 Links
6. If yes for 3, Gave a thought and made a point for each one of them
7. Oh ya .. paid some bill
8. Rejected atleast a single credit card offer
9. And oh ya .. worked :P

I guess the list would build on n on. Anyways the point is surely you wouldn't have, if you have become one of us, read till now at a single strech. (I would really like to know what you indeed did. Put in the comments section. Hold on... Read completely first)

Ok i won't try and find the reasons for why this is happening because that is not going to help me understand any damn thing. Let that job be left for some XYZ research group of companies. What i would actually try is provide some ways i can become a normal being from a 'skull-headed vaccum with rags of information' which am now. Let me start listing them down.

• Update Google searh bar: I feel google can hugely impact a large sector of us concentration loosers. If only they ask for some not-so-privacy-threatning but self-embarrassing queries before returing the result. Lets say, "For how much hours have you worked today".
• Redesign Operating Systems: Huge step i know. The one i would design is, i would say, mainly a build over on MS Vista. Ok , so you want switch program? Start. "Do you really want to open ...? Yes/No", "Enter your Password ******", "Please re-enter the password ******", "Thank You! Please select the program you want to open. Enter the number in from of the selection", "Enter the text in captcha", "Thank you! Click Finish to open the program" and finally "Your request to open ____ has been successfully served. OK/Back" I am damn sure this will majorly kill the frequent ALT+TAB s
• Introduce Sticky Books: Ok what if i want am not the comp junkie and still cherish the hardcopies? How can i be glued to the plot in the book? Fine. We will manually and physically do that for you. The books will be fitted with microprocessors programmed for secreting glues for defined time period which would be not less than 1 hour. You see. Its that simple.
• Rename weekdays: Ok so point is inject a standard work schedule through out the human fraternity. Lets make each focus on a particular kind of job on the specified day. I would suggest let the week names be Funday (random fun), Moneyday(Money Matters), Teamday(Social Team Building), Workday (I know .. Boring Day), Surfday(Random Internet Surfing), Reworkday(Yeah .. 2 of them. Afterall thats what one is paid for) and Saturday (!!!!)

I know these options do sound rather ludicrous and more apparent changes like stop building multiprocessing processors or build 'one system one application' OSes might sound sensible. But then it is a "Build dam for water leaks" kinda solution. Anyways that's my foolish take on this not-so-foolish topic. Comment in your solutions, however foolish they may sound. Remember, there are many like you around you...

Finally must say I have always been a workaholic enthusiast ... What remains now is just an -aholic enthusiast surfing endlessly in void.

PS: If you have read this post in a single strech, i am damn sure you have just crumbled into wrong space. Click the back arrow button at the top-left corner of this window.

Update: Another interesting take on the same line. I am stupid and the Internet made me so

Here is another slippery weekend sliding beneath my feet. As i sit acting idle, with feeling rather unsuccessful with my attempts to follow "Operation Afraid", i start scanning my social appearance at Orkut. (P.S. I did succeed in beating one dreaded task. Successfully washed the clothes, a task no less than a feat. Though the fear of uncompleteness did keep me away from taking a bath and shaving. You see victory ask for persistent efforts :P) And along my stroll, I again dashed into a place i find the most meaningless. The Communities.

I always thought that it should be wrong to say that i completely hate them. The fact that i myself have joined around 50 communities should signify that. But then it was today i thought to drill into my communities' choice. And then rose the truth. All the communities i have joined can largely be divided into following categories:

• Ones i joined as a newbie, similar to a kiddie thrown into a toy shop picking random toys
• Ones which i was forced to join with an ultimatum of sort "Join now" ('or you will be hanged alive' was always silent :P)
• Ones wherein you just feel great to be part of. It hardly matters how much sense it makes in you joining them

Just found this amazing image depicting how security and privacy are inter-related in todays web-world. I guess its pretty simple.

"You won your security. But they own your privacy"

Update: Apologies to all those who indeed saw quite a supposedly "private" image here. All thanks to the dynamic image whose contents were "weirdly" played with. Now that was quite an experience, something worth learning from.

Throughout my student and professional life, i have been named and renamed hundreds and thousands of times. If i was made dada, manu etc at home, each one followed that up by gawande, amit, amith (southernized), wasudeo (!!! thats my father's name. Isn't that ironic that it was called when i wanted it to be the least, while distributing the checked answer sheets), strato, gaws and recently to few more. I felt like a bot in quake3 arena getting named for each player. Yeah!! as if this wasn't enuf i myself tagged myself with "the great", "the warrior", "gaws", "gamer" and simply "the player" in gaming arena. But there was the one that kept following me and i dreaded the most. "Phattu" (meaning "the fearful". Quite interesting isn't it? I feared the name itself). Though i felt it wasn't fare enough, I feared the things every normal one did. And if someone didn't i always felt he should be called the fearfree (physo??? :P).

Anyways today it was just by chance that i thought why not untie this tag from myself. But the first step was to list down the things i feel i fear the most in recent time. Because the countless times i was afraid is the past now and past hardly counts. So here goes the list of my recent 'fearmakers':

1) Weekends: Yep. These dudes come with a promise to let me complete all my jobs i have been postponing to meet just to slide under my feet with a lighting speed keeping me awake every sunday night. And thats the night i go to sleep with mostly zilch completed. Few uncompleted jobs include random internet surfs, itemized jobs like meeting, following up with XYZ, completing uncompleted work over the weekdays, do some shopping, paying bills, calling someone and and... Uff the list really goes on. Few which always top the list and remain unbeaten include washing clothes and shaving. Its all because i keep fearing each one of them, i hardly take a bath on sunday. You see i hardly find any time. Facing the monday morning with every planned thing untouched shivers me up.
2) News reports boasting someone: It may seem its fully faltu to fear something so stupid. But boss you should watch news channels catching random roaming people and making them comment on blah blah attaining blah feat. And then follow the unending murmurs: "East or West blah blah is best", "Blah blah is great", "we love u blah blah", "i feel in todays world .... hjhsdjsa.... sjdhsaj" (a sudden break from news reporter finally breaks his non-abating tempo). I fear heavily that one day it would be me who would end up on either side of the conversation: i mean either boasting someone or holding mic (Nah me getting boasted over a news channel seems hardly probable. Though the speed with which news channels are turning insane, the possibility cannot be negated. And believe me, that would be no less fearful)
3) Reality shows and SMS: I don't know if the show producers really know that but sending an SMS here at our place does get charged. But lemme be clear. No horror serial/movie isn't as horrifying as these shows. I really worry if i keep on watching the reality shows, time's not far when i would unknowingly type "&*&* A" or "LEAD #" and send that to 56789. Lines are open from saturday 10.... Arggghhh You see the side-effect. It just sticks and stinks inside. And even unknowingly you start blabbering the rules. Now thats the fear.
4) Google Homepage: Seemingly harmless bot, this is the most dreadful thing among the lot. I myself feel am addicted to this dude now. After atleast every 1 hour of joblessness, I feel to face this faceless creature. I fear he would one day take over my mind one day and and spread his crawler bots to digg out the information hidden inside. The phrase (and widely used "About me" statement in social profiles) "My mind is an open book" would literally turn into "My mind is an open searchable entity. Just google it dude". Its really scary.

I guess i should stop for now. Its the Sunday night, have just seen an episode of reality show, been targeted by the boasting news reports recently and just now ebbed myself my visiting google.com. So before I really get bogged down by fear, let me reveal the plan. Plan is i am going to not fear any of these things. Simple solutions is not watch television, no web surfing (surfing without googling??? Just can't imagine) and yep no work postponement. I know that's pretty 'new year resolutions'ish type of statements, but a start need to be made. Once i regain my control over these things, i will move to few other fearmakers. Till then good night. Its me signing off for tonight. Will meet next Sunday same time .. Argghhhh need to sleep. Fearmakers on their way!!!

Update:As if the "Google" fear i talked about earlier wasn't enough, there struck this video which intensified this fearmakers effect on my "blogged" mind. Thats quite creepy.

Blogged with Flock

"Give me a strip of laughter dose please."

• It instills the positive mind frame in all the employees. And similarly all the city dwellers and finally to the whole country and then comes world. I win Noble prize for spreading happiness all around.
  
• Employees feel a complete physical release of tensions and all deadlines are forgotten. The behaviour spreads to the country and i am charged with contempt. I find the scientist who did this research and kill him. I am hanged.

Another instant thought! Throughout my life, from a tender age when i was railing on my knees, I have never been a "Frutomaniac". I mean i have never been an idiotic fruits lover. When kiddies around me were busy drooling over all sorts of fruits, i was busy enjoying fats. Parents kept forcing me to push fruits in myself and i kept on running away making faces and crying like hell. And as always, the childish weeping bomb won over the parental force. And as i grew up, i was installed with an image for each fruit i was made to eat, forcibly. Follows the list (Don't expect this list to be exhaustive. If you do, stop eating fruits and go visit a doctor)

• Custard Apple: This is the one who i met earliest. And as i visualize this guy, up stands the Tom Hanks from "Forrest Gump". Poor Chap who everybody just rips apart and relish. Hence goes my sympathies with this rusty.
• Orange: This guy stands as one of the protagonists from any of the "American Pie" series. I mean he is all time dressed up just to get undressed. Capable of bring tears rolling down even with its peels. And a simple aim in life; lose his virginity (remember how you undress an orange with your thumb :P)
• Pomegranate: Here come another rusty guy. But he is by no means the sympathy earning one. I mean, to start with, its no child's play to name and start relishing him. Even if you if do open him up, he starts poking his seeds in your tooth cavities; once his choco mate has played its part.
• Watermelon: The chubby fat dumb a**. His black seeds depicting his face with pimples all over. As expected he has to be juicy. And its enough to drivel along your arms over your shirt. I never remember me mating him with my shirt over.
• Mango: The dude in the gang. Luck has always favored this guy unlike the poor custard apple. He is smart, he is rich, smells and tastes heaven. In short has all the qualities that can draw any female counter part in the fruit fraternity crazy. The news is he is dating Banana these days, you know that stripper round the corner. Yep the same fair chick ;)
• Apple: And finally comes the most opportune guy among them all. Reasons unknown, this brat runs along every corner right from the mommy's kitchen (Apple pie, which is mostly without any 'apple'ish touch) to the Doc's clinic (An Apple a day ... the real interpretation follows). I mean he does hardly anything to earn fame. But sometimes its just divine providence and hence he earned the blog title too.

Blogged with Flock