Got a book gifted to me today. Good.
Had a fight with Boss. Bad.
Good meeting in the morning. Good.
Evening dinner plans cancelled. Bad.
Covered two books nicely. Good.
Lost 5 games in a row at pool. Bad.
An Art Director complimented me on my sketches. Good.
Getting a slight headache now. Bad.
Somebody has taken good advice. Good.
Boring lunch and snacks. Bad.
Good news on one pitch. Good.
Bad news on the other. Bad.
Urge to be left alone. Good.
Urge to connect. Bad.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Tired and irritated
There's nothing worse than a delayed flight on the way back home. You've started your day at an unearthly hour. Been on high alert for a client meeting. And now that the fatigue is setting in, you have nothing to do but wait. The bloody laptop is also a lot heavier now.
The Delhi airport is pretty decent. There are a lot of pretty shops around. There's even a good bookshop. Normally I can while away hours in one, but at such times you just want to curl up and die.
The flight is apparently delayed because of the delay in the incoming flight. Which in turn is because of air traffic congestion in Mumbai. Which is because of the work happening on some secondary runway over there. Bored. Tired. And irritated. All because of the bloody secondary runway and the inefficient idiots who can't finish it in time.
What should I do now?
I'm generally scowling at all humanity around. I even did that to a pretty looking Delhi girl a while ago. That's how irritated I am.
I guess, this too shall pass.
The Delhi airport is pretty decent. There are a lot of pretty shops around. There's even a good bookshop. Normally I can while away hours in one, but at such times you just want to curl up and die.
The flight is apparently delayed because of the delay in the incoming flight. Which in turn is because of air traffic congestion in Mumbai. Which is because of the work happening on some secondary runway over there. Bored. Tired. And irritated. All because of the bloody secondary runway and the inefficient idiots who can't finish it in time.
What should I do now?
I'm generally scowling at all humanity around. I even did that to a pretty looking Delhi girl a while ago. That's how irritated I am.
I guess, this too shall pass.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
The Cave
It is dark. It is deep. The deeper you go in it, the further away you are from the entrance. You keep walking till it starts looking like just a tiny speck of light.
It is lonely in here. But not too bad. I've carried my music with me. Mark is good when you are out in the sunshine. Here in the darkness, Floyd somehow seems more appropriate.
But it is a cave. Not a tunnel. Which means however deep it goes, you have to retrace to come out. There's no other exit but the one from where you entered. But when you come out, it is at the same place. You can't change that.
Maybe not. But given enough time, things change even at the same place. So probably some time in the cave is needed for some change in life.
Being in the cave is refreshing in a strange way. It helps you get some much needed objectivity back in life. Some pictures to be straightened. Some typos to be corrected. And some cobwebs to be swept.
There could be some rescue teams sent to fish me out. But I will be hiding in the dark. Don't bother. I'm relishing the peace after the mad cacophony of the world outside.
It is lonely in here. But not too bad. I've carried my music with me. Mark is good when you are out in the sunshine. Here in the darkness, Floyd somehow seems more appropriate.
But it is a cave. Not a tunnel. Which means however deep it goes, you have to retrace to come out. There's no other exit but the one from where you entered. But when you come out, it is at the same place. You can't change that.
Maybe not. But given enough time, things change even at the same place. So probably some time in the cave is needed for some change in life.
Being in the cave is refreshing in a strange way. It helps you get some much needed objectivity back in life. Some pictures to be straightened. Some typos to be corrected. And some cobwebs to be swept.
There could be some rescue teams sent to fish me out. But I will be hiding in the dark. Don't bother. I'm relishing the peace after the mad cacophony of the world outside.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
All in a day's work
My friend's dad died yesterday.
I was at a wedding in the morning. When I heard the news I was headed towards office. Why should my life have been affected at all? It was going on normally.
I worked in office till 6 and then went for the funeral. By the time I reached there, they had finished all the last rites. The body was lying in the assembly hall outside the electric cremation chamber. A lot of people were standing around it. My friend was going through the motions. I thought he looked pretty composed but it was probably the alertness of not making a mistake in doing something he was doing for the first time in his life.
They picked up the body and took it inside. All of us trooped in. They placed it on a big iron carriage on rails that went into the furnace. The door of the furnace was open. For a second I remembered the big toasters in hotels at the breakfast spreads. You keep a slice of bread on the moving grill and watch it slowly go into the heat. I am always scared of these contraptions. I feel I will burn my hand every time I gingerly place the slice on the moving grill.
By this time, all was done. The only thing that remained was to push the body into the furnace. They asked my friend to place a hand on the lever and the attendants then pushed it into the fire. All of us watched fascinated. It went inside like the slice of bread. And in the couple of seconds until the door clanged shut, we saw the body catch fire. It sort of exploded into flames. His burning toes was the last that all of us saw of my friend's dad.
The finality of the sight and the gruesome nature of the end broke my friend down. There was the usual crying, hugging, patting. I just stood there and watched it all.
I then went and met his mother and sister at their home. Held their hands. Didn't cry. Hugged them and told them to take care. Then came home. Had a shower. Had dinner. And went back to office.
We are working on an important new business presentation.
I was at a wedding in the morning. When I heard the news I was headed towards office. Why should my life have been affected at all? It was going on normally.
I worked in office till 6 and then went for the funeral. By the time I reached there, they had finished all the last rites. The body was lying in the assembly hall outside the electric cremation chamber. A lot of people were standing around it. My friend was going through the motions. I thought he looked pretty composed but it was probably the alertness of not making a mistake in doing something he was doing for the first time in his life.
They picked up the body and took it inside. All of us trooped in. They placed it on a big iron carriage on rails that went into the furnace. The door of the furnace was open. For a second I remembered the big toasters in hotels at the breakfast spreads. You keep a slice of bread on the moving grill and watch it slowly go into the heat. I am always scared of these contraptions. I feel I will burn my hand every time I gingerly place the slice on the moving grill.
By this time, all was done. The only thing that remained was to push the body into the furnace. They asked my friend to place a hand on the lever and the attendants then pushed it into the fire. All of us watched fascinated. It went inside like the slice of bread. And in the couple of seconds until the door clanged shut, we saw the body catch fire. It sort of exploded into flames. His burning toes was the last that all of us saw of my friend's dad.
The finality of the sight and the gruesome nature of the end broke my friend down. There was the usual crying, hugging, patting. I just stood there and watched it all.
I then went and met his mother and sister at their home. Held their hands. Didn't cry. Hugged them and told them to take care. Then came home. Had a shower. Had dinner. And went back to office.
We are working on an important new business presentation.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Death
I'm at the hospital today. With a friend who has been told that his father is sinking and may have only a few more hours to live. Started with kidney failure and led to organs failing one after the other. He has been on life support for several days now but I guess now is the time to start facing the inevitable.
Faced with death at such close quarters I'm suddenly feeling really small. How casually I wrote about life going on but it stops sooner or later! And about a vegetable on life support who's relatives are wondering when and if to pull the plug. When I wrote those things I felt clever. Now that I'm seeing these things I feel terrible.
I learnt something today. Virtually every vital organ of the body can be kept going by machines. Heart, Lungs, Kidneys. But when the brain starts shutting down, there's no way to support it artificially. The brain. The supreme command of the human body. The only reason he's still alive is because his brain is not yet dead. As the blood pressure keeps dipping and goes below the critical point, the brain will stop functioning and that will be that.
He is in the ICU. He is heavily sedated. He is hovering somewhere between life and death. There are tubes coming out of every existing orifice and some new ones that have been made surgically. There are machines grimly beeping all around him.
I am in the waiting room. I am fully alive. I am hovering somewhere between objectivity and emotion. There are tense expressions, hushed voices, symapthetic pats, moist eyes and lumpy throats. There are humans grimly staring into nothingness around me.
I can see my friend standing at the window now. He's been brave. He has to. But he breaks down once in a while. He's crying right now. Someone is talking to him in hushed tones. I want to go and comfort him. I can't give him false hopes. But I can surely help him prepare for what's to come.
Strangely, life does go on.
Faced with death at such close quarters I'm suddenly feeling really small. How casually I wrote about life going on but it stops sooner or later! And about a vegetable on life support who's relatives are wondering when and if to pull the plug. When I wrote those things I felt clever. Now that I'm seeing these things I feel terrible.
I learnt something today. Virtually every vital organ of the body can be kept going by machines. Heart, Lungs, Kidneys. But when the brain starts shutting down, there's no way to support it artificially. The brain. The supreme command of the human body. The only reason he's still alive is because his brain is not yet dead. As the blood pressure keeps dipping and goes below the critical point, the brain will stop functioning and that will be that.
He is in the ICU. He is heavily sedated. He is hovering somewhere between life and death. There are tubes coming out of every existing orifice and some new ones that have been made surgically. There are machines grimly beeping all around him.
I am in the waiting room. I am fully alive. I am hovering somewhere between objectivity and emotion. There are tense expressions, hushed voices, symapthetic pats, moist eyes and lumpy throats. There are humans grimly staring into nothingness around me.
I can see my friend standing at the window now. He's been brave. He has to. But he breaks down once in a while. He's crying right now. Someone is talking to him in hushed tones. I want to go and comfort him. I can't give him false hopes. But I can surely help him prepare for what's to come.
Strangely, life does go on.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
A compliment
Somebody called me a narcissistic asshole yesterday. It really wasn't supposed to be an insult but almost a term of endearment. The drift of the conversation was about self-obsession and how I supposedly constantly fish for compliments. A narcissistic asshole. An asshole who loves himself.
I was amused more than affronted by the remark. Maybe because it might be true to some extent. Here are some more things that people say I am.
Quite a lot of people have told me I'm intelligent. That is something I don't find too hard to believe. Probably because the general level of intelligence around is so low that anything can and does stand out.
I write well. Well. That's something I'd like to believe but honestly I think that is debatable. I feel real good writing comes from what one truly feels. It's not a question of using metaphors or choosing the mot juste. That is a function of intelligence more than writing ability.
I have also been termed as arrogant, cocky, thinks too much of himself, etc. Guilty as charged on that count. No justifications for that one.
Some claim I have a wall around me and I keep people out. I believe that everyone does that to some extent or other. Probably it's more noticeable in me considering I don't have a very effusive and ebullient personality.
Others say I'm a cave-dweller. Absolutely true.
Coming back to the narcissistic asshole bit. I still find the remark quite amusing and insightful. Amusing because I like to believe that I'm above such comments. Insightful because it is a succinct encapsulation of my personality and pretty efficiently put.
As always, a sucker for good analysis.
I was amused more than affronted by the remark. Maybe because it might be true to some extent. Here are some more things that people say I am.
Quite a lot of people have told me I'm intelligent. That is something I don't find too hard to believe. Probably because the general level of intelligence around is so low that anything can and does stand out.
I write well. Well. That's something I'd like to believe but honestly I think that is debatable. I feel real good writing comes from what one truly feels. It's not a question of using metaphors or choosing the mot juste. That is a function of intelligence more than writing ability.
I have also been termed as arrogant, cocky, thinks too much of himself, etc. Guilty as charged on that count. No justifications for that one.
Some claim I have a wall around me and I keep people out. I believe that everyone does that to some extent or other. Probably it's more noticeable in me considering I don't have a very effusive and ebullient personality.
Others say I'm a cave-dweller. Absolutely true.
Coming back to the narcissistic asshole bit. I still find the remark quite amusing and insightful. Amusing because I like to believe that I'm above such comments. Insightful because it is a succinct encapsulation of my personality and pretty efficiently put.
As always, a sucker for good analysis.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Two sides of a coin
- People have an auto-correct option. But I can't turn it off.
- Words are the only means to communicate. But they can hurt and kill.
- There must be something good in me that some people truly like. But when will I stop denying that?
- People are irrational. But one can't stop trying to make sense of and to them.
- Things change. But they stay the same.
- It's easy to want to ignore someone. But it's so damn difficult to truly do so.
- Life is linear. But also strangely circular.
- The pendulum goes left. But also goes right.
- Life goes on. But stops sooner or later.
- Everything is OK. But it's not All Correct.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
All Correct?
There's a word that we use, overuse, misuse and abuse in the English language. It's a simple enough word. I'm sure anyone with even a rudimentary knowledge of English has heard it. In fact it has even been accepted into the regional languages to an extent that it is a brand name of a mass market soap.
The word is OK. Is it even a real word? Just two alphabets, pronounced individually not as 'oak'. Sometimes it tries to become a real word spelt as 'okay'.
We use it when we are fine with the state of affairs. We use it when we find something just ordinary. We use it to agree. We also use it to demonstrate comprehension. There are so many different ways of using it.
This ubiquitous little word has almost become a punctuation mark in the English language. There are whole conversations that can happen with a monologue at one end and a series of OKs from the other. That is the power of OK.
I did some research on how this word came into being. It seems the word first was attested in 1839. It came out of a fad that existed in Boston and New York of abbreviating deliberate misspellings of common phrases. For example, KG was short for Know Go or No Go. Similarly OK was short for All Correct spelt as Oll Korrect.
Over the years, only OK has survived and thrived. It's strange to find the roots of the word in common street slang, that too in a fad. What's most ironical is that it has its birth in a deliberate misspelling. A word that means All Correct is actually born out of typos.
No wonder OK, though handy, sometimes just cannot say everything one wants to. It most often means 'I'm not sure I agree with you but let's get on with life.' OKs are quite often used under duress. They are reluctant acceptances of unpleasant tidings. All Correct? No, Oll Korrect. That's what OK really stands for.
The word is OK. Is it even a real word? Just two alphabets, pronounced individually not as 'oak'. Sometimes it tries to become a real word spelt as 'okay'.
We use it when we are fine with the state of affairs. We use it when we find something just ordinary. We use it to agree. We also use it to demonstrate comprehension. There are so many different ways of using it.
This ubiquitous little word has almost become a punctuation mark in the English language. There are whole conversations that can happen with a monologue at one end and a series of OKs from the other. That is the power of OK.
I did some research on how this word came into being. It seems the word first was attested in 1839. It came out of a fad that existed in Boston and New York of abbreviating deliberate misspellings of common phrases. For example, KG was short for Know Go or No Go. Similarly OK was short for All Correct spelt as Oll Korrect.
Over the years, only OK has survived and thrived. It's strange to find the roots of the word in common street slang, that too in a fad. What's most ironical is that it has its birth in a deliberate misspelling. A word that means All Correct is actually born out of typos.
No wonder OK, though handy, sometimes just cannot say everything one wants to. It most often means 'I'm not sure I agree with you but let's get on with life.' OKs are quite often used under duress. They are reluctant acceptances of unpleasant tidings. All Correct? No, Oll Korrect. That's what OK really stands for.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Metaphors
I love metaphors. I even tend to overuse them. But here's something I'd read a long time ago. I don't remember where, but it was impactful enough to stay. Probably because of the power of metaphors. I can't quote exactly but I can try to paraphrase below.
There are three kinds of people in the world. Eggs, Cabbage and Tea leaves.
Boil eggs and they harden. Boil cabbage and it softens. Boil tea and it adds flavour, colour and fragrance to the boiling water itself.
It is up to each of us how we react to misfortune. Are we like eggs? Go through life hard and cynical for ever? Are we like cabbage? Go through life weak and pathetic? Or are we like tea leaves? Making the best out of every hardship we go through.
Worth thinking about, isn't it?
There are three kinds of people in the world. Eggs, Cabbage and Tea leaves.
Boil eggs and they harden. Boil cabbage and it softens. Boil tea and it adds flavour, colour and fragrance to the boiling water itself.
It is up to each of us how we react to misfortune. Are we like eggs? Go through life hard and cynical for ever? Are we like cabbage? Go through life weak and pathetic? Or are we like tea leaves? Making the best out of every hardship we go through.
Worth thinking about, isn't it?
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Some Haikus
On Haiku
The first line has five
Seven beats in the second
The third has five too
On a Tear
Suddenly it came
No reason some reason, why?
Brushed ‘way with a smile
On Mark
Effortless Genius
Ray of hope in a bleak world
Ever shining bright
On a certain six-year old
Heart melting smiles g’lore
Always with a mind his own
I love him too much
The first line has five
Seven beats in the second
The third has five too
On a Tear
Suddenly it came
No reason some reason, why?
Brushed ‘way with a smile
On Mark
Effortless Genius
Ray of hope in a bleak world
Ever shining bright
On a certain six-year old
Heart melting smiles g’lore
Always with a mind his own
I love him too much
Saturday, November 28, 2009
The Pendulum
Tick, tock, tick, tock, it keeps going.
The thing about a pendulum is that it always starts off at the golden centre. That is the mid-point of its path and the equilibrium of its existence.
Then some external force comes along and displaces the happy state of affairs. It moves thanks to this external force in one direction, slowly gaining an angle and reciprocatingly losing speed. As it arrives towards its extremity, there is an opposite force that starts working on it which prevents it from keeping on going in the same direction. Soon, kinetic energy converts into potential energy and it comes to a stand still for a microsecond.
The pent up potential energy it has is too much for it too sustain itself at one end of its trajectory. It slowly starts heading back towards its mid-point, its equilibrium. As the mid-point approaches, it rushes faster and faster towards it. But by the time it reaches the equilibrium, it has converted all the potential energy back into kinetic energy and it can't suddenly stop. In fact, the pendulum is at its fastest at its mid-point. Almost as if it wants to stay at the equilibrium for the least possible time.
The momentum doesn't let up and it keeps going. Only this time in the opposite direction, towards the other extreme. Before it is time to turn back and head back to the first extreme. And the same story repeats over and over. But not forever.
The laws of physics do not allow perpetual motion. Tiny frictions during the swing contribute to its gradual slowing. The friction could be in the pivot mechanism or between the bob and the air rushing past it. What's more there is also the force of gravity which constantly acts as a check on every swing of the pendulum, gradually slowing it down to a standstill.
The longer the rod, the heavier the bob, the smoother the pivot, the lesser the air and the lighter the gravity; the longer it will take for the pendulum to stop.
But sooner or later, it has to.
The thing about a pendulum is that it always starts off at the golden centre. That is the mid-point of its path and the equilibrium of its existence.
Then some external force comes along and displaces the happy state of affairs. It moves thanks to this external force in one direction, slowly gaining an angle and reciprocatingly losing speed. As it arrives towards its extremity, there is an opposite force that starts working on it which prevents it from keeping on going in the same direction. Soon, kinetic energy converts into potential energy and it comes to a stand still for a microsecond.
The pent up potential energy it has is too much for it too sustain itself at one end of its trajectory. It slowly starts heading back towards its mid-point, its equilibrium. As the mid-point approaches, it rushes faster and faster towards it. But by the time it reaches the equilibrium, it has converted all the potential energy back into kinetic energy and it can't suddenly stop. In fact, the pendulum is at its fastest at its mid-point. Almost as if it wants to stay at the equilibrium for the least possible time.
The momentum doesn't let up and it keeps going. Only this time in the opposite direction, towards the other extreme. Before it is time to turn back and head back to the first extreme. And the same story repeats over and over. But not forever.
The laws of physics do not allow perpetual motion. Tiny frictions during the swing contribute to its gradual slowing. The friction could be in the pivot mechanism or between the bob and the air rushing past it. What's more there is also the force of gravity which constantly acts as a check on every swing of the pendulum, gradually slowing it down to a standstill.
The longer the rod, the heavier the bob, the smoother the pivot, the lesser the air and the lighter the gravity; the longer it will take for the pendulum to stop.
But sooner or later, it has to.
Friday, November 27, 2009
The auto-correct option
My iPhone has an auto-correct option.
It is intelligent. It can guess what I want to say even if it comes out wrong. Wish people had an auto-correct option. That way one can keep talking and the message going through to that person is always the right one. In fact the person, like my iPhone would always guess what I want to say and only hear that. Sounds perfect, doesn't it?
But what happens when I'm typing something which the iPhone doesn't recognise? There are two possibilities. It puts in a word that is closest to the one it doesn't recognise and completely garble the message in the process. Or else, it just lets it be thinking I must be knowing what I'm typing. So either the fault lies with the phone or with me, but the wrong things go through.
Sometimes I feel, people do have an auto-correct option. Most times, they filter through the incoming message to suit what they understand or feel good to hear. Or they just take me on face value thinking what I'm saying is what I'm meaning.
The only difference is that I can switch off the auto-correct option on my iPhone.
It is intelligent. It can guess what I want to say even if it comes out wrong. Wish people had an auto-correct option. That way one can keep talking and the message going through to that person is always the right one. In fact the person, like my iPhone would always guess what I want to say and only hear that. Sounds perfect, doesn't it?
But what happens when I'm typing something which the iPhone doesn't recognise? There are two possibilities. It puts in a word that is closest to the one it doesn't recognise and completely garble the message in the process. Or else, it just lets it be thinking I must be knowing what I'm typing. So either the fault lies with the phone or with me, but the wrong things go through.
Sometimes I feel, people do have an auto-correct option. Most times, they filter through the incoming message to suit what they understand or feel good to hear. Or they just take me on face value thinking what I'm saying is what I'm meaning.
The only difference is that I can switch off the auto-correct option on my iPhone.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
?
Why am I faced with a blank screen?
Why am I still awake though I am tired and miles away from home?
Why do I want to write something even though I have nothing to say?
Why must everything always make sense?
Why do I have this inane need to rationalise everything?
Why do I have to have everything straightened out even if it is just a picture on the wall?
Why do I abhor typos?
Is it an OCD?
So what if it is?
Why can't I let things be?
Am I afraid to let them?
What is the worst that could happen?
Will I be able to live it down if it would?
Will Calvin ever grow up?
Should he?
Will Mark ever make a mediocre song?
Why can't the iPhone have a better battery life?
Why can't I have a better battery life?
Can we truly feel alive without a struggle?
When will the work pressure ease up?
When will I retire?
When will I die?
Who will cry when that happens?
Am I happy with myself?
Can I truly love?
Why am I so loved?
Is it for my intelligence, charm, sardonic wit or is it just karmic?
Do I really want to know the answer?
Will I be happy if I get an honest one?
Who am I fooling?
Am I fooling myself above all?
Does every question have to be answered?
Why am I still awake though I am tired and miles away from home?
Why do I want to write something even though I have nothing to say?
Why must everything always make sense?
Why do I have this inane need to rationalise everything?
Why do I have to have everything straightened out even if it is just a picture on the wall?
Why do I abhor typos?
Is it an OCD?
So what if it is?
Why can't I let things be?
Am I afraid to let them?
What is the worst that could happen?
Will I be able to live it down if it would?
Will Calvin ever grow up?
Should he?
Will Mark ever make a mediocre song?
Why can't the iPhone have a better battery life?
Why can't I have a better battery life?
Can we truly feel alive without a struggle?
When will the work pressure ease up?
When will I retire?
When will I die?
Who will cry when that happens?
Am I happy with myself?
Can I truly love?
Why am I so loved?
Is it for my intelligence, charm, sardonic wit or is it just karmic?
Do I really want to know the answer?
Will I be happy if I get an honest one?
Who am I fooling?
Am I fooling myself above all?
Does every question have to be answered?
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Any colour you like
People are like colours. Some are black - dark and depressing. Some are white - Innocent. Children are Yellow - optimisitic and cheerful. Youth is Orange - like yellow but more passionate. Red - fully physical and passionately lustful. Some are green people. They live for others. And there are the purple ones - the ones who expect others to serve them. Browns are practical. Blues are escapists.
Then there are the grey. Generally unnoticeable. Having no particular characteristic that stands apart. Boring? Yes. Stoic? Maybe. Their virtue? Predictability. Grey is defined as a neutral achromatic colour somewhere between black and white. I guess that's how the world looks at people who are grey. Colourless and forgettable.
I'm a grey. I like to think of myself as one of those. Why? Because I love grey. And I have my reasons.
Grey doesn't stand out. It's the colour of backdrops. It's the colour of mounts on which the layout has to be seen at its best. The colour of professionals. The colour of knowledge, technology, logic, balance and reason.
They say when you mix all the pigment colours you get black. And when you mix all light colours you get white. Both of these are absolutes. When you mix these two absolutes, you get grey. This makes grey the most inclusive colour in the universe. Multidimensional and deep. That's what grey is.
You can have any colour you like. I love grey. It has all the colours in it anyway.
-- Post From My iPhone
Then there are the grey. Generally unnoticeable. Having no particular characteristic that stands apart. Boring? Yes. Stoic? Maybe. Their virtue? Predictability. Grey is defined as a neutral achromatic colour somewhere between black and white. I guess that's how the world looks at people who are grey. Colourless and forgettable.
I'm a grey. I like to think of myself as one of those. Why? Because I love grey. And I have my reasons.
Grey doesn't stand out. It's the colour of backdrops. It's the colour of mounts on which the layout has to be seen at its best. The colour of professionals. The colour of knowledge, technology, logic, balance and reason.
They say when you mix all the pigment colours you get black. And when you mix all light colours you get white. Both of these are absolutes. When you mix these two absolutes, you get grey. This makes grey the most inclusive colour in the universe. Multidimensional and deep. That's what grey is.
You can have any colour you like. I love grey. It has all the colours in it anyway.
-- Post From My iPhone
Friday, November 20, 2009
Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness
These are supposedly the unalienable rights of human beings, as stated in the United States Declaration of Independence.
Life. In simple terms, existence. Living. Not being dead yet. Breathing in and out. Going from one day to another. Meeting people. Parting with them. Touching each other in every way possible. Thinking. Feeling. Expecting. Rejecting.
Ultimately the life of every human being is nothing but the sum total of all the connections that they make while they are still a mass of carbon compounds and complex chemical reactions. Even a vegetable on life support in an ICU is connected. Maybe just to the extent where his relatives are wondering about whether or when to pull the plug. Once the plug is pulled, the connection is severed and life is gone.
Liberty. Freedom. No encumbrances. Choice. Will. The ability and the willingness to choose a course of action that one wants.
Life is useless without Liberty. At the same time, if Life is nothing but the sum total of connections, is there ever real Liberty? True Liberty would mean living life on terms of nobody else’s but one’s own. That implies having absolutely no connections with anyone at all. Which in turn means being dead.
So ultimately, it seems like Life and Liberty are forces that pull in opposite directions. Strangely one cannot exist without the other – the dead cannot exert any free will, can they? So all of us exist from one day to another, convincing ourselves that in a small way we are alive and pretend to be rational animals always taking the best choices available for us. The greatest irony of all is the Statue of Liberty. An 111 feet tall lady pretending to be the symbol of liberty for all the world, permanently frozen in time. Without even the choice of lowering her aching hand for a second.
Pursuit of Happiness. Note the use of the word ‘pursuit’. Keep chasing. More than the happiness, it is the pursuit that is the unalienable right of all human beings. It is implied in the phrase itself, that happiness can never be attained. Is it any wonder at all, given that Life and Liberty are constantly at loggerheads?
I normally like to end my posts with a well thought out conclusion. Right now I’m not in the mood. In fact, this whole business of Life, Liberty and Pursuit of Happiness itself is a load of depressing bullshit.
Life. In simple terms, existence. Living. Not being dead yet. Breathing in and out. Going from one day to another. Meeting people. Parting with them. Touching each other in every way possible. Thinking. Feeling. Expecting. Rejecting.
Ultimately the life of every human being is nothing but the sum total of all the connections that they make while they are still a mass of carbon compounds and complex chemical reactions. Even a vegetable on life support in an ICU is connected. Maybe just to the extent where his relatives are wondering about whether or when to pull the plug. Once the plug is pulled, the connection is severed and life is gone.
Liberty. Freedom. No encumbrances. Choice. Will. The ability and the willingness to choose a course of action that one wants.
Life is useless without Liberty. At the same time, if Life is nothing but the sum total of connections, is there ever real Liberty? True Liberty would mean living life on terms of nobody else’s but one’s own. That implies having absolutely no connections with anyone at all. Which in turn means being dead.
So ultimately, it seems like Life and Liberty are forces that pull in opposite directions. Strangely one cannot exist without the other – the dead cannot exert any free will, can they? So all of us exist from one day to another, convincing ourselves that in a small way we are alive and pretend to be rational animals always taking the best choices available for us. The greatest irony of all is the Statue of Liberty. An 111 feet tall lady pretending to be the symbol of liberty for all the world, permanently frozen in time. Without even the choice of lowering her aching hand for a second.
Pursuit of Happiness. Note the use of the word ‘pursuit’. Keep chasing. More than the happiness, it is the pursuit that is the unalienable right of all human beings. It is implied in the phrase itself, that happiness can never be attained. Is it any wonder at all, given that Life and Liberty are constantly at loggerheads?
I normally like to end my posts with a well thought out conclusion. Right now I’m not in the mood. In fact, this whole business of Life, Liberty and Pursuit of Happiness itself is a load of depressing bullshit.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
True friendship
Calvin is a young kid. But he has had a tough life so far. Plagued with issues ever since he came of age, his only release is his hyperactive imagination. Most times cynical, some times sad, he goes through life battling all the evils that prevent him from living life on his own terms. He has seen a lot in life and feels jaded sometime. Most times he appears to be just another cute naughty kid. But there are a lot of hidden depths that he has. All said and done, you can't help love Calvin for what he is and what he is likely to grow up to.
Hobbes is a stuffed tiger. To everyone he's an inanimate object. For Calvin though, he's the most alive being in the world. One can say that Hobbes is a part of Calvin's hyperactive imagination. But I like to believe that Hobbes chooses to come alive to help his best buddy go through life happily and have fun.
Calvin brings Hobbes to life. Hobbes adds meaning to Calvin's life. Calvin and Hobbes are constant companions. They are friends forever. Hobbes is the prime voice of reason for Calvin. He is also his partner in crime. His best friend. It's too much to say that Calvin needs a philosopher and guide as he himself is too clever (sometimes by half). But Hobbes is always there to make sure that Calvin doesn't self destruct in one of his flights of fancy.
Calvin is bound to grow up sooner or later. Sooner or later he won't be needing Hobbes anymore. He will go off to college and then pursue an amazing career in some field which does justice to his creativity. He will surely not be in a profession like his father. Maybe he will write a book someday. Maybe become a fabulous director like Tarantino. Or a hugely syndicated cartoonist like Scott Adams. Or even become like Steve Jobs, a cynical, mad, creative genius. Whatever he chooses, I'm sure that Calvin has an amazing life ahead.
Hobbes will probably stay where he is. His stuffing will soon come out. Probably start losing his eyesight when the buttons pop out. I can picture him lying on a corner of Calvin's bed when he's gone off to college. Trying to remember the amazing tuna sandwiches and the adventures with his best friend.
But one thing is for sure. If ever Calvin would need a best friend again in life, Hobbes will come alive again. And they can then resume all their adventures and complete each other yet again.
But that's in the future. Today Calvin is still six and Hobbes is still needed. And as long as that stays, the adventures of Calvin and Hobbes still continue.
-- Post From My iPhone
Hobbes is a stuffed tiger. To everyone he's an inanimate object. For Calvin though, he's the most alive being in the world. One can say that Hobbes is a part of Calvin's hyperactive imagination. But I like to believe that Hobbes chooses to come alive to help his best buddy go through life happily and have fun.
Calvin brings Hobbes to life. Hobbes adds meaning to Calvin's life. Calvin and Hobbes are constant companions. They are friends forever. Hobbes is the prime voice of reason for Calvin. He is also his partner in crime. His best friend. It's too much to say that Calvin needs a philosopher and guide as he himself is too clever (sometimes by half). But Hobbes is always there to make sure that Calvin doesn't self destruct in one of his flights of fancy.
Calvin is bound to grow up sooner or later. Sooner or later he won't be needing Hobbes anymore. He will go off to college and then pursue an amazing career in some field which does justice to his creativity. He will surely not be in a profession like his father. Maybe he will write a book someday. Maybe become a fabulous director like Tarantino. Or a hugely syndicated cartoonist like Scott Adams. Or even become like Steve Jobs, a cynical, mad, creative genius. Whatever he chooses, I'm sure that Calvin has an amazing life ahead.
Hobbes will probably stay where he is. His stuffing will soon come out. Probably start losing his eyesight when the buttons pop out. I can picture him lying on a corner of Calvin's bed when he's gone off to college. Trying to remember the amazing tuna sandwiches and the adventures with his best friend.
But one thing is for sure. If ever Calvin would need a best friend again in life, Hobbes will come alive again. And they can then resume all their adventures and complete each other yet again.
But that's in the future. Today Calvin is still six and Hobbes is still needed. And as long as that stays, the adventures of Calvin and Hobbes still continue.
-- Post From My iPhone
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Manhattan
Oh Manhattan!
The best place to be in the world. I have been there only thrice in my life but the memories of it will never go away. People generally fantasize about a green, verdant getaway away from the so-called hustle-bustle of the city. I on the other hand, dream of getting away to the most vibrant city in the world - the big apple.
My fascination for the place was probably founded in my reading of Ayn Rand in those impressionable years. She eulogizes Manhattan as the amazing landmark of man's ingenuity. Everything from the skyscrapers to the subway network going down five levels under the ground in some places, has been made by man. How else can a tiny island become the commercial capital of the entire world?
I love the sights of Manhattan. The yellow cabs. The cops directing traffic. Hundreds of people crossing the road when the signal turns to 'walk'. Rows upon rows of shop windows. Scaffoldings on building fronts. Bums on the sidewalks. Lights at Times Square. You just have to look up and you can see the amazing shapes that the sky takes in the middle of the skyscrapers. Ayn Rand would have surely approved how man's intellect has made a work of art out of the boundless sky by giving it boundaries.
I love the sounds of Manhattan. The constant siren wails. The rushing of the subway train under the sidewalk. The noise of the incessant traffic. A trumpet player in the subway station. In the midst of all that cacophony, if you listen carefully, you can actually hear the music of Manhattan. The sounds somehow reflect the complete harmony of the millions of humans and machines coexisting in a tightly cramped space.
I even love the smells of Manhattan. The petrol fumes. The pizza flavours wafting out of the pizzerias. The tantalizing coffee smells from the hundreds of Starbucks scattered all over the island. At the southern tip, you can even get the smell of the sea if the wind is right. They say the sense of smell provides the maximum nostalgia. And Manhattan in all its smells makes an indelible impression on the visitor.
But above all, I love Manhattan for the way it can be represented as a person.
It is systematic and orderly. There are parallel, criss-crossing streets and avenues which makes it absolutely impossible to get lost in there.
It is obviously wealthy. But quite understated. The Waldorf barely has a porch that opens out to a sidewalk! A millionaire walks to work with a coffee and a bagel because she can't find parking space. I love that about Manhattan.
It keeps its distance from people. It does not get in your face. Nobody is too interested in their neighbours' lives. It can be cold and distant but it cares.
It is balanced. It has a huge, natural ecosystem in the middle of a concrete jungle.
It is tasteful. One of the world's fashion capitals and some of the best museums in the world. At the same time extremely grounded in practical reality.
So there you have it. Manhattan anthropomorphised. Systematic, orderly, wealthy, down to earth, understated, distanced, caring, balanced, tasteful and realistic.
No wonder I will probably be most at home there.
-- Post From My iPhone
The best place to be in the world. I have been there only thrice in my life but the memories of it will never go away. People generally fantasize about a green, verdant getaway away from the so-called hustle-bustle of the city. I on the other hand, dream of getting away to the most vibrant city in the world - the big apple.
My fascination for the place was probably founded in my reading of Ayn Rand in those impressionable years. She eulogizes Manhattan as the amazing landmark of man's ingenuity. Everything from the skyscrapers to the subway network going down five levels under the ground in some places, has been made by man. How else can a tiny island become the commercial capital of the entire world?
I love the sights of Manhattan. The yellow cabs. The cops directing traffic. Hundreds of people crossing the road when the signal turns to 'walk'. Rows upon rows of shop windows. Scaffoldings on building fronts. Bums on the sidewalks. Lights at Times Square. You just have to look up and you can see the amazing shapes that the sky takes in the middle of the skyscrapers. Ayn Rand would have surely approved how man's intellect has made a work of art out of the boundless sky by giving it boundaries.
I love the sounds of Manhattan. The constant siren wails. The rushing of the subway train under the sidewalk. The noise of the incessant traffic. A trumpet player in the subway station. In the midst of all that cacophony, if you listen carefully, you can actually hear the music of Manhattan. The sounds somehow reflect the complete harmony of the millions of humans and machines coexisting in a tightly cramped space.
I even love the smells of Manhattan. The petrol fumes. The pizza flavours wafting out of the pizzerias. The tantalizing coffee smells from the hundreds of Starbucks scattered all over the island. At the southern tip, you can even get the smell of the sea if the wind is right. They say the sense of smell provides the maximum nostalgia. And Manhattan in all its smells makes an indelible impression on the visitor.
But above all, I love Manhattan for the way it can be represented as a person.
It is systematic and orderly. There are parallel, criss-crossing streets and avenues which makes it absolutely impossible to get lost in there.
It is obviously wealthy. But quite understated. The Waldorf barely has a porch that opens out to a sidewalk! A millionaire walks to work with a coffee and a bagel because she can't find parking space. I love that about Manhattan.
It keeps its distance from people. It does not get in your face. Nobody is too interested in their neighbours' lives. It can be cold and distant but it cares.
It is balanced. It has a huge, natural ecosystem in the middle of a concrete jungle.
It is tasteful. One of the world's fashion capitals and some of the best museums in the world. At the same time extremely grounded in practical reality.
So there you have it. Manhattan anthropomorphised. Systematic, orderly, wealthy, down to earth, understated, distanced, caring, balanced, tasteful and realistic.
No wonder I will probably be most at home there.
-- Post From My iPhone
Monday, November 2, 2009
Back again
October was bad. All personal targets weren't met. Gym ground to a complete halt. Diet went out of control. Generally down with fatigue and boredom.
November will be better. Today's just the second day and I've already done everything I had to for the day and it's not even 10 am. Including reviving the blog.
Looking forward to the next two months. Want to work hard and also catch up on a lot of personal time.
-- Post From My iPhone
November will be better. Today's just the second day and I've already done everything I had to for the day and it's not even 10 am. Including reviving the blog.
Looking forward to the next two months. Want to work hard and also catch up on a lot of personal time.
-- Post From My iPhone
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Streaming thoughts
A post that should do justice to the name of the blog - Random Thoughts.
I had read somewhere about automatic writing. This is an attempt at automatic typing. I will probably just let one thought lead to another and put it down as they come along. I really don't know what or how this post is going to pan out. But I'm only going to try and keep typing till the time that my thoughts run out. So far I am only wondering when that will happen.
The first thought that occurred to me while doing this is how easy it is to think while typing. It helps to know how to touch-type as one doesn't have to use one's faculties to hunt-and-peck. These days, in fact, I find it too much of a bother to write on paper. My wrist starts aching when I do that long enough.
Why is there any writing at all? Probably because we don't have access to an electronic instrument at all times yet. Although I seem to be in front of some screen or the other for most of my waking hours - Television, Laptop and iPhone.
Screens are increasingly becoming important in human lives. But thanks to miniaturisation, our field of vision is getting smaller with every new innovation. There was a time when the only entertainment was watching sport in arenas. After that came cinema. Then Television. Then Computers. Finally Mobile phones. The screens got smaller and our scope of vision with them.
Interestingly, the word 'screen' has two meanings. One is the screen that enables us to see projected images or illusions. The other is the screen that obscures reality. Wonder how two opposite meanings somehow found their way to the same word.
That reminds me that I just finished reading Dan Brown's Lost Symbol. Thought it was strictly okay. Too formulaic and pretty boring in places. Quite an anti-climax actually. Makes one think of the phrase, 'much ado about nothing' at the end of it all. Anyway, I believe there will be a movie made of the book to come out by 2012. Hope Tom Hanks is not wasted again.
Tom Hanks is one of the finest actors alive today. Purely because he doesn't act. He just becomes. Some of his best movies according to me - actually all that I've seen:
- The Terminal
- Castaway
- Catch me if you can
- That thing you do
- Apollo 13
- Forrest Gump
- Sleepless in Seattle
- Saving Private Ryan
- Philadelphia
- Road to Perdition
I get a feeling I'm missing some. But Da Vinci Code and Angels and Demons were a disaster.
I think I'm running out now. Time to go. But looking back, it's quite nice to see the flow of thought above.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Love-marks
Some time ago I read about fabulous brands that have transcended their status and become 'Love-marks'. So here are a few of my personal ones. I've excluded the non-manufactured brands like Pink Floyd and PG Wodehouse by design. These are actual things that I would talk about, so brands in the slightly stricter sense of the term.
1. Bose. I've three products from Bose and I think I will end up owning at least a couple more soon. I love the clarity and richness of sound. I love the fact that they are so simple to use and that there is so much technology that goes behind them to make them that way.
2. iPhone. I've written enough about this before so I'm sure I don't need to elaborate on this. Amazing design, technology and sex appeal all in just one small product. Surrounded by the aura of Mac and having a cult following of its own. I can't imagine life without it any more.
3. Body Shop. It is the olfactory gratification that really puts these products in a bracket all of their own. Apart from these, I would like to think that all their legends are true. Even their simple, no-nonsense packaging is fabulous and adds a lot of character to their products as compared to the competition.
4. Timberland. I just love these shoes for the weekends. I have the simplest pair of loafers and I don't really use them for trekking or anything like that. But these are the original and that's what I like about them.
5. Thinkpad. Formerly IBM, now Lenovo. The most hardy laptop ever. I used to have one a long time ago and after several Sony Vaios having come and gone - the equivalent of dumb blondes in laptops - I have finally realised who really is marriage material.
I will add more to the list as I think of them.
-- Post From My iPhone
1. Bose. I've three products from Bose and I think I will end up owning at least a couple more soon. I love the clarity and richness of sound. I love the fact that they are so simple to use and that there is so much technology that goes behind them to make them that way.
2. iPhone. I've written enough about this before so I'm sure I don't need to elaborate on this. Amazing design, technology and sex appeal all in just one small product. Surrounded by the aura of Mac and having a cult following of its own. I can't imagine life without it any more.
3. Body Shop. It is the olfactory gratification that really puts these products in a bracket all of their own. Apart from these, I would like to think that all their legends are true. Even their simple, no-nonsense packaging is fabulous and adds a lot of character to their products as compared to the competition.
4. Timberland. I just love these shoes for the weekends. I have the simplest pair of loafers and I don't really use them for trekking or anything like that. But these are the original and that's what I like about them.
5. Thinkpad. Formerly IBM, now Lenovo. The most hardy laptop ever. I used to have one a long time ago and after several Sony Vaios having come and gone - the equivalent of dumb blondes in laptops - I have finally realised who really is marriage material.
I will add more to the list as I think of them.
-- Post From My iPhone
Friday, September 25, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Time
A couple days ago my parents came to live with us. They have now hopefully permanently shifted their base to our house. We all felt that this was for the best since Dad will be on regular dialysis now and he would be a lot more comfortable staying with us than on their own.
But the woes of living in Mumbai include having a finite space to live in. We do have a comfortable 3 bedroom flat but as always all the cupboard space was fully occupied. So to make place for my parents, a lot of our stuff had to be junked.
The most voluminous things to go were the soft toys of the children along with a lot of their board games and other ancillary kiddie stuff. It did make a lot of space available and anyway the kids had outgrown using these so it made sense to donate all of this.
But this whole interaction made me think about the unavoidable passage of time. Parents getting old and needing care thus moving in. And to make space for that, the moving out of some childhood - never to return. I guess this is the inevitabiliy of age catching up at all the levels.
But at the same time, came the realisation that in a strange way time is really more circular than linear. Though the kids are growing up and getting independent, the parents are growing old and getting dependent. Guess it still is about looking after the ones you love, whatever their age. That will always stay constant, however much time passes through.
-- Post From My iPhone
But the woes of living in Mumbai include having a finite space to live in. We do have a comfortable 3 bedroom flat but as always all the cupboard space was fully occupied. So to make place for my parents, a lot of our stuff had to be junked.
The most voluminous things to go were the soft toys of the children along with a lot of their board games and other ancillary kiddie stuff. It did make a lot of space available and anyway the kids had outgrown using these so it made sense to donate all of this.
But this whole interaction made me think about the unavoidable passage of time. Parents getting old and needing care thus moving in. And to make space for that, the moving out of some childhood - never to return. I guess this is the inevitabiliy of age catching up at all the levels.
But at the same time, came the realisation that in a strange way time is really more circular than linear. Though the kids are growing up and getting independent, the parents are growing old and getting dependent. Guess it still is about looking after the ones you love, whatever their age. That will always stay constant, however much time passes through.
-- Post From My iPhone
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Two guys
There's a guy I see everyday who stands at the junction of the erstwhile Lokhandwala Circle, an extremely high traffic zone in the middle of the JVPD scheme. He has short salt-and-pepper hair, the kind that one has when one hasn't shaved off the head for a week or so. He has medium height and built. He wears a white kurta and a white dhoti. And he just stands there. Oblivious to the passing traffic and people. A half-smile on his face. At peace with himself and the world.
In March, when I was in Santa Monica for ten days, I had to walk three blocks from my hotel down Wilshire Boulevard to the studio where I had to work. There was a guy I saw everyday who stood at the corner of Wilshire and 2nd. He had really long grey-blonde hair and beard. Dressed in dirty blue jeans and a cardigan, the original colour of which was impossible to know. And he too just stood there. Also oblivious to the passing traffic and people. Eyes half-closed and looking doped. Totally isolated from the world for sure, maybe even from himself.
The guy in Mumbai holds a signboard that reads, "Follow your own faith. Love all humanity".
The guy in Santa Monica held a begging bowl.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Dad is unwell
This morning I got a call from Mom that Dad had to be immediately hospitalized. He has been suffering for years with Diabetes mainly brought on by heredity and stress. The two main factors for probably any woe in the world.
Heredity is something that one is born with. There's no choice about it. In metaphysical terms it would be termed as karma. On the other hand, stress is a choice. It is something that one willingly takes on as a result of circumstance. Again, in metaphysical terms, it would be explained by the concept of free will.
In reality though we always confuse one for the other.
We deny our heredity. We pretend that our reality - the circumstances we find ourselves in - are inconsequential. Though the future repercussions of our actions are screaming loud in our face we choose to ignore them and think we are invincible. In this case, my Dad always knew of his family history of severe Diabetes and yet he chose to have a lifestyle devoid of moderate eating and exercise.
The other contributor is stress. This is something that we love so much that we just cannot do without it. At most times taking stress is worse than useless. We know it deep inside, but we are so caught up in the circumstances that we feel we are just victims of the situation, refusing to believe that there is always a choice. Dad has taken on a lot of stress in his life from every situation and relationship - work, family, kids. The sad part is that all of it has been self-inflicted and lovingly added to the growing collection.
Just some lessons for me to take on board. It may not be too late for me yet. Considering I've got the same genes and the same lifestyle, it is inevitable where I'm headed. So this is one more of those wake up calls that I wrote about in another post. Unpleasant but awakening.
-- Post From My iPhone
Heredity is something that one is born with. There's no choice about it. In metaphysical terms it would be termed as karma. On the other hand, stress is a choice. It is something that one willingly takes on as a result of circumstance. Again, in metaphysical terms, it would be explained by the concept of free will.
In reality though we always confuse one for the other.
We deny our heredity. We pretend that our reality - the circumstances we find ourselves in - are inconsequential. Though the future repercussions of our actions are screaming loud in our face we choose to ignore them and think we are invincible. In this case, my Dad always knew of his family history of severe Diabetes and yet he chose to have a lifestyle devoid of moderate eating and exercise.
The other contributor is stress. This is something that we love so much that we just cannot do without it. At most times taking stress is worse than useless. We know it deep inside, but we are so caught up in the circumstances that we feel we are just victims of the situation, refusing to believe that there is always a choice. Dad has taken on a lot of stress in his life from every situation and relationship - work, family, kids. The sad part is that all of it has been self-inflicted and lovingly added to the growing collection.
Just some lessons for me to take on board. It may not be too late for me yet. Considering I've got the same genes and the same lifestyle, it is inevitable where I'm headed. So this is one more of those wake up calls that I wrote about in another post. Unpleasant but awakening.
-- Post From My iPhone
Monday, September 14, 2009
Movie Magic
Some scenes which bring out the magic of movies. Strictly in the order of them coming to mind.
1. The opening sequence of Sound of Music. Sweeping aerial shots of the Alps slowly taking in the entire countryside. The music slowly builds up and reaches a crescendo as we fly to Maria singing "The Hills are alive..." We have already experienced (more than seen) how the hills are alive and the whole scene is simply amazing.
2. Mohan takes his first sip of water in India in Swades. Returning from a village where he's been subjected to abject poverty for the first time, the NRI NASA scientist, Mohan Bhargava, realises for the first time what most of India lives like. Till this point in the movie, he only drinks bottled water of Kinley (an American product, obviously) because the Indian water is likely to be too contaminated for him. As the train stops at a halt, a young boy is selling water at 50p to the travellers. Mohan takes the glass and drinks the water symbolising a lot more than just that. He has gone through a life-altering experience and the simple act of drinking the water means so much. Executed to perfection by Sharukh Khan without a single word of dialogue.
3. Tevye's dance with the Fiddler after the captain tells him to expect a pogrom on his daughter's wedding in Fiddler on the Roof. Tevye is in the best of spirits as he has just found an excellent match for Tzeitel. And having drunk away in the village inn, he is returning home. That's when the Christian police captain informs him that there has to be some symbolic Jewish persecution soon. But all this is just the setup. Now a little low, Tevye does his little complaint to God and turns to face the Fiddler. He teases Tevye a bit with a few notes on the fiddle and soon Tevye starts dancing with him on the street again. He has not just accepted his fate, he has embraced it and started finding joy again. One of my all-time favourites.
4. Anna's killing in Parinda. Kishan burns the pyrophobic Anna alive in a closed room for having murdered his brother, Karan and sister-in-law, Paro. Jackie Shroff as Kishan has probably delivered his career best scene with absolutely no dialogue. Masterpiece in editing, writing and direction.
5. Ali and his sister exchanging surreptitious notes while his father is breaking sugar and having an argument with their mother in Children of Heaven. We understand that the family is in economic dire straits from the conversation. But Ali's sister is upset as he has lost the only pair of shoes she has. Ali is desperately trying to convince her to use his shoes and all this happens through an exchange of notes. The scene ends with Ali bribing his sister with a shiny new pencil to buy her silence. Story-telling simplicity like never seen before.
6. The climax of Usual Suspects. Verbal Kint has managed to fool the interrogator right through his grueling encounter. He has continuously made up stories based on the overcrowded notice-board right in front of him. At the end of it all, he leaves the room limping. And then there are intercuts of the inspector gazing at the notice-board and piecing together the lies that he has been fed so far with Verbal walking out of the station slowly overcoming his limp and back to normalcy. One of the best revelations I've ever seen. The movie ends with Verbal saying, "The greatest trick the devil ever pulled is to convince people that he doesn't exist. And like this
Thursday, September 10, 2009
64 things I can do with my iPhone
- Send and receive calls.
- Send and receive SMSes.
- Maintain an appointment book.
- Maintain contacts.
- Take photographs.
- Store photographs.
- Check meanings of words.
- Consult wikipedia.
- Keep a to-do list.
- Send and receive emails.
- Write notes.
- Use as an alarm clock.
- Check the local time (and date).
- Check the time in any international zone.
- Use as a stopwatch.
- Use as a timer.
- Record voice memos.
- Create, edit and view Word documents.
- Create, edit and view Excel sheets.
- View Powerpoint presentations.
- Upload files.
- Download and store files.
- Write a diary.
- Surf the Internet.
- Listen to Music.
- Watch Movies.
- Get directions on a map.
- Watch YouTube videos.
- Get stock updates
- Check weather in any location.
- Remember birthdays.
- Use Facebook.
- Use LinkedIn.
- Play the Flute.
- Download and read virtually any book.
- Keep logs of activities.
- Write a blog.
- Check the straight water levels of paintings and tabletops.
- Use as a calculator.
- Get currency conversion rates.
- Know the exact latitude and longitude coordinates.
- Use as a compass.
- Get news headlines.
- Calculate my BMI.
- Check my biorhythms.
- Use as a tap counter.
- Use as a digital table clock.
- Calculate tips.
- Measure.
- Check moon phases.
- Use as a flashlight.
- Use to convert various units.
- Roll dice.
- Flip coin.
- Find services and directions around me.
- Chat on Yahoo! messenger.
- Calculate number of days to a date.
- Check international holidays.
- Calculate EMIs.
- Calculate Discounts.
- Calculate Tip amounts.
- Generate random numbers in a range.
- Translate.
- Play over 50 games.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Wake up call
Every night I set the alarm on my iPhone to wake me up at an ambitious hour. The intentions are noble. Wake up early, hit the gym, read some good books, chant, have breakfast and get into office after all that by 9.
The alarm rings several times. It is only switched off and the slumber continues. The love making to the mattress is too delicious to let go off. As a result it is seldom that I stagger out of bed before 7:30 and guilty as hell for more unkept promises to myself.
What really wakes me though at that time is a crow. This bird religiously comes along in my balcony and starts creating a racket without fail every morning at that time. And he doesn't have a snooze button. The only way out is to get out of bed, open the balcony and shoo him away and then there is no hope of sleeping anymore.
Why is it that it is always the unpleasant things that wake you up and get you on track much more than the planned reminders? There is probably no answer to that apart from a shrug of the shoulders and a "human nature!" remark. So without dwelling into the why of it, it might be a better idea to speculate on the 'what'.
What is really the true nature of all the unpleasant things that happen to us in life? I imagine they are mainly to serve as wake up calls. It might be very well for us to desire a life without any wake up calls at all, but that is a life of slumber. And absolutely nothing can be achieved while sleeping.
Now I look at the crow as a friend. He comes every morning to wake me up and remind me that a new day is here and a lot has to be done. The fact remains that the crow is as noisy and ugly as ever but a change in my attitude towards him has made a world of a difference to my happiness. I only wish now that he would come by earlier. I could do with a couple more hours in my day.
-- Post From My iPhone
The alarm rings several times. It is only switched off and the slumber continues. The love making to the mattress is too delicious to let go off. As a result it is seldom that I stagger out of bed before 7:30 and guilty as hell for more unkept promises to myself.
What really wakes me though at that time is a crow. This bird religiously comes along in my balcony and starts creating a racket without fail every morning at that time. And he doesn't have a snooze button. The only way out is to get out of bed, open the balcony and shoo him away and then there is no hope of sleeping anymore.
Why is it that it is always the unpleasant things that wake you up and get you on track much more than the planned reminders? There is probably no answer to that apart from a shrug of the shoulders and a "human nature!" remark. So without dwelling into the why of it, it might be a better idea to speculate on the 'what'.
What is really the true nature of all the unpleasant things that happen to us in life? I imagine they are mainly to serve as wake up calls. It might be very well for us to desire a life without any wake up calls at all, but that is a life of slumber. And absolutely nothing can be achieved while sleeping.
Now I look at the crow as a friend. He comes every morning to wake me up and remind me that a new day is here and a lot has to be done. The fact remains that the crow is as noisy and ugly as ever but a change in my attitude towards him has made a world of a difference to my happiness. I only wish now that he would come by earlier. I could do with a couple more hours in my day.
-- Post From My iPhone
Friday, September 4, 2009
Changes of mind or Change of minds?
Here's what I'd written last year.
Macs
Over-rated.
Ok, I admit that I’ve never really used one extensively. But whatever little I have, I didn’t find it so amazingly different from my trusted PC, that I would want one right away. I think what Steve Jobs has managed to do is to create a cult following for Macs through some brilliant marketing. Everyone loves to hate the big guy and would like to have a choice where they don’t HAVE to buy his products. Steve has only offered them that.
There might be some people who believe strongly enough in this to buy the product. No problem with that, but don’t constantly keep telling me how the Mac is superior to the PC. I don’t think it is and I can do without your post-purchase rationalisation, thank you.
I do love the Mac vs PC ads though. That’s just it – brilliant marketing of an ok product.
Coming back to today, how things have changed! Today I'm a year old iPhone user and evangelist. My blackberry has been expelled from my life in mind, body and spirit. There are things that you can do with your iPhone that cannot even be imagined with any other handset. I have realised that before I know it, I have become exactly one of those who I used to so shortsightedly and immaturedly disdain - the community of Apple lovers.
Thanks to the iPhone, I was slowly initiated into the Mac world. Started with iTunes. Then MobileMe. Then Safari. And then the unthinkable happened. I read a book called 'Inside Steve's Brain' by Leander Kahney and today I'm a total convert. Steve Jobs is not only brilliant but he's the closest we can have these days to being a genius inventor and marketeer.
I've already been to the Apple outlet once and salivated. Now I can't wait to take the plunge.
I'm going to do something that does not come easy to me. But for the sake of Steve, I apologise for what I thought earlier and take everything back. Steve, you are the stuff that Ayn Rand's heroes are made of. Keep walking dude!
And for the record, the Mac vs PC ads helped.
Macs
Over-rated.
Ok, I admit that I’ve never really used one extensively. But whatever little I have, I didn’t find it so amazingly different from my trusted PC, that I would want one right away. I think what Steve Jobs has managed to do is to create a cult following for Macs through some brilliant marketing. Everyone loves to hate the big guy and would like to have a choice where they don’t HAVE to buy his products. Steve has only offered them that.
There might be some people who believe strongly enough in this to buy the product. No problem with that, but don’t constantly keep telling me how the Mac is superior to the PC. I don’t think it is and I can do without your post-purchase rationalisation, thank you.
I do love the Mac vs PC ads though. That’s just it – brilliant marketing of an ok product.
Coming back to today, how things have changed! Today I'm a year old iPhone user and evangelist. My blackberry has been expelled from my life in mind, body and spirit. There are things that you can do with your iPhone that cannot even be imagined with any other handset. I have realised that before I know it, I have become exactly one of those who I used to so shortsightedly and immaturedly disdain - the community of Apple lovers.
Thanks to the iPhone, I was slowly initiated into the Mac world. Started with iTunes. Then MobileMe. Then Safari. And then the unthinkable happened. I read a book called 'Inside Steve's Brain' by Leander Kahney and today I'm a total convert. Steve Jobs is not only brilliant but he's the closest we can have these days to being a genius inventor and marketeer.
I've already been to the Apple outlet once and salivated. Now I can't wait to take the plunge.
I'm going to do something that does not come easy to me. But for the sake of Steve, I apologise for what I thought earlier and take everything back. Steve, you are the stuff that Ayn Rand's heroes are made of. Keep walking dude!
And for the record, the Mac vs PC ads helped.
They say men, when troubled go to caves. While women talk. Recently I too was in my personal cave for a few days. But one thought that kept nagging at the subconscious all the while I was wallowing in the cave was that all my actions at the time were actually craving for attention.
So here's the classic male paradox. When a man is troubled, he won't want to talk about it. Probably that is an admission of a weakness or a deep-rooted feeling of his manhood getting threatened. At the same time we all display a lot of behaviours that simply advertise to the world our inability to cope with the situation we are in. We sulk. We insult. We are short with our loved ones. We are generally angry at the world. And we want to show that. The paradox is that we can't even if want to.
So what has all this got to do with Facebook? During my stint in the cave I found Facebook a fantastic release to vent the feelings without putting my face up there. It even helped that I don't have a mugshot as my profile picture. All my status messages were reflecting my state of mind. And honestly, I was enjoying the attention I was getting from all my friends in their responses. Facebook provided the best solution for the paradox - express and expel while still maintaining a stoic face.
I'm out of the cave now. But I'm glad that there is a safety valve available for use whenever I go in there. Thank you to all those who showed concern on my status messages. Those were the few bright moments in what was otherwise a lousy week.
-- Post From My iPhone
So here's the classic male paradox. When a man is troubled, he won't want to talk about it. Probably that is an admission of a weakness or a deep-rooted feeling of his manhood getting threatened. At the same time we all display a lot of behaviours that simply advertise to the world our inability to cope with the situation we are in. We sulk. We insult. We are short with our loved ones. We are generally angry at the world. And we want to show that. The paradox is that we can't even if want to.
So what has all this got to do with Facebook? During my stint in the cave I found Facebook a fantastic release to vent the feelings without putting my face up there. It even helped that I don't have a mugshot as my profile picture. All my status messages were reflecting my state of mind. And honestly, I was enjoying the attention I was getting from all my friends in their responses. Facebook provided the best solution for the paradox - express and expel while still maintaining a stoic face.
I'm out of the cave now. But I'm glad that there is a safety valve available for use whenever I go in there. Thank you to all those who showed concern on my status messages. Those were the few bright moments in what was otherwise a lousy week.
-- Post From My iPhone
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Traffic
I left office at 6:30 pm today with the intention of reaching somewhere at 7:15 in Lokhandwala.
By the time it was 8:00, I had barely reached four bungalows.
Frustrated.
-- Post From My iPhone
By the time it was 8:00, I had barely reached four bungalows.
Frustrated.
-- Post From My iPhone
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