Tuesday 27 December 2005

What animal are you?

Well, according to this link




I am A: Monkey!

monkeyMonkeys are intelligent and agile, well-adapted for jungle life as they swing happily from tree to tree. As a monkey, you are a social animal who eats a wide range of food, is quick to learn new things and loves to climb. A monkey's tiny primate features are irresistable, as is his gregarious personality!

I was almost a: Pony or a Squirrel
I was least like a: Turtle or a GroundhogDiscover What Cute Animal You Are!

Tuesday 22 November 2005

That feeling.. once more.

I know most of us have undergone this, and would experience it again and again. I am talking about home sickness. Those couple of days when you are with your parents and there is joy and laughter galore. You forget all the sadness (read office work) and spend the two days in total blissful happiness. But soon is the time for us or them to leave and as soon as we are away, there arises that feeling of emptyness, the loneliness, the sadness, the gloom, and you wish the happiness had persisted for some time. And then you find yourself sitting in front of the monitor with a mail from your project manager splashed across it exhorting you to work hard(er)...

Life sucks. I love home.

Thursday 17 November 2005

Home Delivery

After a long time, I have heard a *fun* song in Hindi.
Boman Irani's voice is amazing and so are the music and lyrics.
Kinda reminds you of Wild Wild West by Will Smith.

Makes me wanna go and watch the movie....

Here are the lyrics... Go have fun. :)

-----
delivery delivery .d d.d.d.
delivery delivery

aao suno ik taazaa kahaanee
baatein nayiin, na raajaa na raani
masti hai yaari hai, kuch bekaraari hai
thodi hasii hai, zaraa samajhdaari hai
khushiyaan hai gham bhi hai
tum bhi ho hum bhi hai
ye gaana hi nahi poora atom bam bhi hai

hello bolo kyaa chaahiye jo chaahiye mil jayega
bandaa khaanaa kyaa aapko ghar tak bhi pahuchaayegaa
hey...
hello bolo kyaa chaahiye jo chaahiye mil jaayegaa
bandaa khaanaa kyaa aapko ghar tak bhi pahuchaayegaa

home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery

pehle hamaaraa number le lo
do do teen teen char panch cheh saath aath nau
fir boliye, boliye
aapkaa order kyaa hai jii..
bas tees minute mein aapke ghar mein
yaa sab kuch freeeeeee

home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery

atak jaao tum kahin to
mujhe fauran bulaa lenaa
bhatak jaao raah se jo
to ye number ghumaa denaa
karnaa nahiiiiiiiiiiin koi fikar
mai aa gayaaaaaa tumko main pal mein kar dungaa...

home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
-----

Monday 24 October 2005

A modern marvel - My first sixer.

Marvel comics is a company that owns the rights to our friendly neighbourhood Spiderman comics. Superheroes like him are a source of inspiration in this world of circumambient amorality. Saturday was when another pukka superhero came into being. Now, pardon me if this note appears to be a little discursive in nature, but one dare not kvetch over this petty issue, as the accounts of this new superhero are riveting indeed. For beginners, here is a ukase that every attentive reader must follow - Never doubt a great writer's words. The morning was a pleasant one and I awoke in the usual pleasant frame of mind, full of brio, and ready to take on the world over a game of Cricket. Soon enough I was out of my dishabille and looking my usual handsome self in an attire that would have made Mr. James Bond very proud had he been a cricketer. Now would be a good time for me to asseverate that ever since I have come out of academic life I have taken a keen interest in some activities that I till not so long ago eschewed in all earnest. Bathing and washing clothes are a couple of them. Some nefarious elements in the society have indulged in agitprops against me focussing on my alleged unhygienic lifestyle, but as any astute reader's perspicacity would tell him, it is all a figment of one's imagination. Therefore, as I was saying, I was all geared up to take on the world and soon enough I found myself as target of a bowler who threw a ball with much celerity and who for some incomprehensible reason had taken a fancy to my head. I do not remember if it was the overcast sky or the speed of the projectile but I felt myself go purblind every time the ball left the bowler's palm. Indeed there wasn't a part of my body that wasn't tested for its strength in the first half hour of play. Blow after blow was followed by a loud appeal, importunate and insistent, only to be turned down by the umpire who too probably had gone purblind. My resolute stand soon wore the bowler off into diffidence and the seeds of self-doubt took root in his mind. It soon manifested itself out in a delivery which reluctantly came out his hand and travelled in a trajectory overwhelmed by gravity towards the centre of the pitch. I braced myself for a counter attack and with a rapid swing of the bat assailed the ball with all my might. The ball ventured heavenwards as a lovelorn would venture towards his inamorata, eyes of spectators and players alike following it minutely, and after what one might assume to be a considerable amount of time, the force of gravity took charge and the ball perforce started hurtling down the skyline, the cavalcade of eyeballs still in pursuit, until it came to rest on hedge a couple of meters away from where the boundary lay. It took a while for everyone as if they had witnessed a legerdemain and were too steeped in disbelief to react before the umpire raised his arms and the crowd erupted in what seemed to me a mellifluous roar of appreciation. Now it would be unreasonable for a polymath like me to sing paeans of my own accomplishments, but it would not be far from truth if one were to say it was probably a shot worth going a thousand miles to watch, yes even for a faineant like Shyamshankar , it would have been worth the effort.

ps: It was also the first time I scored a half century.

Friday 30 September 2005

Irrelevant...

Now, I am not a voluble young man who likes to make an exhibition of my loquacity on topics that interest or annoy other lowly beings. Neither am I a taciturn uncommunicative bloke who considers the usage of verbal organs a perfunctory exercise to build and maintain acquaintances with the other samples of my species, talking of which reminds me that ants are probably the only species that can be considered to be omnipresent in the true sense - well, at least on land. They are everywhere, in the bathroom, in office, in my shoes, in my biscuit boxes, in kitchen sinks, and every other conceivable place one could think of. Not that I am complaining. They provide me a constant companionship everyday, day and night, in my forlorn existence. An existence of seriatim disappointments and anxieties further inflicted by the moral turpitude of autowallahs who charge double rates to take me home on any time of the day. These autowallahs must perenially be put on a strike. It helps the society if wickedness marries idleness. Both are moieties of Satanic descent. That day shall coruscate forever in my memory when Metro rail functions in full swing in this city. These functions are obviously different from the functions that I break my head on every day. A head which is full of vibrant creativity until I find myself in front of the monitor when the flow of thoughts reach a stasis. I must however hurry to establish the fact that I love my job before anyone raises his or her finger (hopefully, the one except the middle one) and brands me a bete noire. Raising a finger is an expression of communication in vogue since ancient times. Each finger representing a different state of mind - in the order from thumb to the li'l one - success, accusation, < censored >, showing off a ring, and emergencies of biological kinds. More varied emotions could be described with various combinations of these fingers. However, I am going shy away from describing them for want of time. No technology or innovations in communication could extirpate this perdurable communication marvel that are our fingers...

Wednesday 21 September 2005

In public interest.

I got this mail today, so posting it here. I hope this helps people. Please do not fall for the crook who duped poor Abhaya and made him Abhaga.

-------------------------
Abhaya Agarwal wrote:
Hi all,

This is really embarrassing but also important. There is this who called me up under the name Shyam Sunder, claiming to be a passout of 1996 batch. He said he has been working in Sydney Australia and has come down to India to interview with some company in Chennai. His wallet has been picked up and he needs some help to get back to Bombay.

I was a little suspicious in the beginning so I asked for some identity proof. His ICICI account showed the name Shyam Sunder. On google, I found out that there indeed was a alumni named Shyam Sunder in 1996 batch. The page which showed his name didn't open (it timed out). So I fell for the bait and transferred money to the account. He promised to contact me back on reaching Bombay.

After I had made the transfer, I just out of curiosity again tried to load that page and lo ! Shyam Sunder from 1997 batch (MSc. Chem) actually died in 2002 from blood cancer !!. Details are on the 1996 webpage since he joined the institute along with them. Then I searched for that ICICI account number and found this:

http://m.1asphost.com/alumniuce/message.asp

This guy has been doing this for sometime now I guess. If only I would have searched for the account number first !! But please spread the info. Since he will definitely try to contact others also.

Is there some public place where this information can be posted so that it turns up quickly on google? I will put it up on my blog. Please do so on your blogs also. I am also going to file a complaint with ICICI Bank about the misusage of this account but I don't think much can be done on that front.

This whole episode has been quite disheartening !

Regards,
abhaga
-------------------------

Friday 9 September 2005

Belling the CAT...

Finally, after much deliberation, I have decided to pursue all options that are open to me. CAT is one such option, and I have decided to go for it anyway. In the following days, I will try to write passages on my blog that will make no sense whatsoever to any sane mind, but would function as an exercise for me to put to use some new words that I will read in my course of preparation for the verbal ability. I do not know if that would help, but the blog was lying untouched, and so were the word-lists, and I could not think of a better way of combining them both towards a creative and useful purpose.

Monday 25 July 2005

Update...

I am still seeking that elusive, mysterious, and seemingly unattainable thing called - love of a woman.

Waiting patiently.

Friday 22 July 2005

Another year.

I am 25 today. :-)

Thursday 30 June 2005

Another one.

They say disappointments and failures in life make one stronger.

I just got stronger.

Thursday 9 June 2005

tagging along...

The don tagged me. So, here goes.

Number of books read: ~390 (maybe, more)

exclude comics: ~290

exclude school textbooks: ~190

exclude college textbooks: ~90

exclude childrens' classic: ~55

exclude boring books: ~53

exclude religious books: ~45

exclude technical papers: ~10

exclude other books: ~0


Last book I bought: Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events - book the fourth - The Miserable Mill.

Last book I read: Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events - book the fourth - The Miserable Mill.

Five books that I love:

1. The thorn birds
2. Harry Potter and the prisoner of Azkaban.
3. Mahabharata
4. Da Vinci Code
5. And then there were none.

and, as my audience is limited, i will try not to tag the same guy who tagged me. :-D So, here is the list of people I would like to tag.

1. Ashu Don
2. Pratibha

Friday 3 June 2005

Some of the places I want to visit in my life

1. The Apex of Mount Everest
2. Manasarovar
3. Tibet.
4. Arunachal Pradesh
5. Switzerland.
6. Andes Mountains in Peru - The aztech civlization remains
7. The Grand Canyon
8. The Yangtze River especially the place where it makes a 180 degree turn.
9. Mount Fuji
10. North Pole and/or South Pole
11. My native place - again and again
12. Harappa and Mohenjodaro

Heck, I would want to visit every place in this world, but if given a choice, these will be the first I will want to go to.

Monday 30 May 2005

moments of unease.

There have so many of them, the moments of unease caused by the embarassment that follows the realization of a careless word, or action, that I have lost count of them by now. The variety of of such incidents that have resulted in me squirming with unease and be red-faced are so comprehensive that I could, had I noted them down in a notebook or some such thing, have authored my own '1001 ways to embarass yourself' guide. Some of them have been caused by a careless word the consequences of which I had not had the maturity to think through, while there have been some that my dear friend Nitin aptly describes to be falling in the category of 'Kulhaadi pe pair maarnaa' which for the benefit of not-so-erudite-in-Hindi clan means 'throwing your leg on an axe-blade'. Yet, there are some that are enforced on me without my own consent and despite my vehement opposition to the same. I have tried to fight them off on many occasions, but before I could express my angst at one and say, 'What the ...', there pile up many more of them against my name. If one is wondering why am I suddenly initiated into memoirs of my embarassing moments, the answer is simple enough - it happened once again yesterday. And so embarassed I am, more so today, about the incident and that there seeming to be no escape from facing it, that all I could think of to bear it was to look at this in comparison to some others from the past and then try to it-could-have-been-worse myself. I have learnt to laugh at myself on such occasions, for without any sign of escape, there seem to be very little options than sit and laugh at myself and pretend to be brave about it.

Thursday 26 May 2005

Arranged Love?

Well, I am not exactly saying that my time is running out, but if things continue in the same vein for some more time, facing such a crisis may become a reality that I will have to face. By my own admission, I am a person, while appearing passive to the concept of love on most occasions, a romantic soul seeking love. So far the story has only been sad for me with the objects of my love either not appreciating my feelings or not reciprocating accordingly. With my grandmother all excited with eagerness to see me in marital bliss, I am now wondering if I too will have to rely on the efforts of my parents to find me a suitable girl. If that is so, I wonder if I will ever be able to do justice to the relationship! The awkwardness that I perceive between such a couple, at least in the early days of their togetherness, is enough to pull the rug under all the bliss that one hopes to experience. Not that I am one in the league of hunks or those able-bodied specimen that appear in television commercials going about in their nonchalant manner riding bikes and charming women at the same time. Neither girls are as dumb as they were traditionally supposed to be in the ancient world dominated by chauvinist males who thought themselves to be worthy of more than one sample of the opposite sex at any point of time. If anything, it is exactly the other way around these days, the situation made more precarious by dwindling sex ratios and generously assisted by those too-keen-to-kill-female-foetuses parents. It is interesting to know if they ever wonder if everyone goes about killing female foetuses like this then how are they going to find a bride for their dear son unless they have already presaged about his sexual orientation in the opposite direction. Thankfully the situation is not so extreme and there are, I hope, girls available for the bachelors of my generation, at least for a bachelor with a post-graduate degree in computer science and engineering and a job that pays him a handful. This is the hope that resides in my heart when I am in my usual rounds at the Forum Mall looking hither and thither for the young and the beautiful, the and being used in the inclusive sense in this case. A hope that one day one of these would find time and an occasion to lift their eyes off the hunk whose arm happens to be around their shoulders and throw a glance, even if cursory, towards me and recognize the romantic heart that beats inside, and for once, realize that beauty and sex-appeal can also be found in a dark skin, balding head, and bulging waistline. Until then it will be a race between me and my grandmother. Yes, I wait for the day when love will find its way into my life along with a girl. One only hopes that it is not led into; led by my grandmother, that is.

Wednesday 18 May 2005

A few drops of water

The sun was scorching and the heat unbearable. There was not a trace of any clouds that could hide the sun and provide any relief, momentary though it may be, on the burning body of Uttamacharya as he trod haggardly on the sand in the midst of a desert praying to God for help. He was trying to remember every good deed he had done in his life to implore God to help him survive.

Uttamacharya was a renowned priest in the town of Swarnapuri and was respected for his profound erudition of scriptures and religion. Any pooja that was performed in Swarnapuri had Uttamacharya in attendance, and in most occasions, as the chief priest. His fame had spread far and wide and in due course of time with a generous grant from the King himself, Uttamacharya had grown considerably in affluence. As Uttamacharya gained more acclaim, invitations from kingdoms far away were sent out for him. On one such journey to a foreign kingdom, his caravan was trapped in a sand storm at the end of which Uttamacharya found himself alone in the middle of nowhere. With no instruments to guide him in the right direction, and with minuscule knowledge of the desert, he started off at the direction he deemed to be the most likely to take him to a civilization.

It had been three days of wandering without any water to quench his thirst in the desert and he was beginning to wonder if his prayers might end up being in vain after all. Add to this, the trauma of discerning a water pool at regular intervals only to discover it as a mirage was proving to be excruciating for him. Soon enough his courage failed him and he fell on his knees having pivoted all his hopes on a miracle from God.

It was dark when he opened his eyes. He did not know how long he had been lying there, but when he came around he saw that he was on the floor at the centre of a thatched hut. His throat was parched and he longed for some water to quench his thirst. At one corner was a man puffing into his choolha with all his might to get the embers to turn into a flame. Uttamacharya gave out a little dry cough and the man turned around. He smiled at the scholar and took a glass full of water out of a nearby pitcher and humbly offered it to him. Uttamacharya looked at him and a certain resemblance to someone he could not place became apparent to him. Nevertheless, he took the glass with gratitude and drank the water in gulps.

After satiating himself, he thanked his host profusely and introduced himself. The host having accepted Uttamacharya's gratitude paid respects to the scholar and inquired after his health. Uttamacharya could not overcome the nagging thought in his mind that he had met this person somewhere sometime earlier. Unable to contain his curiosity anymore, he inquired, "Oh kind soul! Have we met before? I ask this as I perceive a certain familiarity in your face."

"Yes, sir! We have. At the doorstep of your house in Swarnapuri."

"Then how is that I do not remember anything about our meeting."

"Because I was a child then and had come with my father. The similarity that you allude to is probably due to my resemblance to my father. My mother had fainted on the street in front of your house and my father had come to you asking for some water."

Uttamacharya still could not recollect the incident being narrated to him. However, having found himself in many such occasions of generosity, he considered this to be one such trivial incident which would not have found a place in his memory owing to lack of any significance attached to it. He however did not let that prevent him from acknowledging this and he continued,

"It must have been a brief acquaintence then, and I am happy to see that a glass of water offered in generosity goes as far as etching a permanent place in your memory. I am really flattered."

"Yes, sir! It is a glass of water that has enabled me to remember your face distinctly. It is unimaginable that an untouchable like me would ever find an occasion to serve a noble soul like you but it is God's grace that He has provided me with an opportunity to pay you back. For it is now that you shall learn the ultimate lesson of humanity."

Uttamacharya winced a little. Drinking water at the hands of an untouchable was not something his pride would have allowed, yet there was nothing he could do about it now. He was not sure whether he understood exactly what his host was trying to convey. Whether it was a comment in his praise or criticism, he could not say, but there was something in the man's eyes that betrayed a sinister feeling. As these thoughts started creeping into his mind, his head went in a swim.

"I am not sure if I understand you correctly, young man. Have I offended you in some way?"

"You will not understand. You did not understand even on that day. My father pleaded with you invoking all the pity in you to help my mother. It was just a glass of water that all he asked for, but you did not relent and my mother died right in front of your house. It is the glass of water which you did not provide that made me resolve to take a revenge on you one day. And it is a glass of water that will make you realize and repent your mistake today."

Uttamacharya's eyes widened on hearing this. His face went pale and the limbs trembled with trepidation. It dawned on him what had transpired. Realizing that there was little time left for him, he said a silent prayer to God, and addressed the man with much difficulty,

"Young man, I have sinned by not helping another human being. I am happy that God has chosen the most appropriate way to make me realize my mistake. Please forgive me for my sins. May God bless you!"

With these words, Uttamacharya's head jerked back, his body fell back on the floor, and after a heave, his lungs perished. The glass tumbled out of his hands and out trickled the last few drops of the poison.

Wednesday 11 May 2005

My travel logs.

Here is a not-so-brief account of my travel to Tirupathi and Kanyakumari not very long ago.

Tirupati - the temple of seven hills

The journey began on the 27th April in not very extra-ordinary
circumstances. The shortest way to reach the temple town of Tirupati
from the shores of Goa is through Bangalore, which could be reached
quickly but not-so-often conveniently by bus on a road punctuated by
numerous potholes that had almost succeeded in their endeavour to
obliterate any resemblance to an accepted definition of a road.

My base camp for Tirupati was Chennai. The rationale behind this
choice was the presence of numerous Travel agents and their pre-
arranged one-day tours to the seven hills.

To anyone who is visiting Tirupati for the first time, the tours can
be a good option. The tours are conducted by both, Tamilnadu Tourism
Corporation and private operators, the former being more reliable
and therefore enjoying more popularity among pilgrims and tourists.
The more adventurous type may catch a bus directly to Tirupati.

Here, a little geographical detail becomes mandatory. The main
temple dedicate to Lord Balaji is situated atop the hill of Tirumala
(The holy hill) about 25 kms or an hour away from the town of
Tirupati. The road is winding and curvaceous but the journey is
pleasant. There is a government bus every minute going uphill and
downhill. For those who seek a more religious approach to the temple
premises, there is an option to climb up a series of about 4000
steps. The town of Tirupati is well connected by rail and road to
many important cities in South India.

The most difficult part of a visit to the temple of Tirupati is
entering the temple itself. It is not uncommon to find people spending more
time waiting for Darshan than they spend traveling to get there. A
lot of measures have been taken up by the temple authorities to make
things a lot easier for pilgrims but they come with a price
attached. The time spent waiting for a Darshan in a queue is
inversely proportional to the money one is ready to shell out from
one's pocket. A free Darshan may not materialize for more than 24
hours in the worst case, the entire duration of which is spent in
closed enclosures with hundreds of other people in conditions which,
the temple authorities' efforts to maintain otherwise
notwithstanding, are overwhelmed with the filth perpetrated by the
visitors. There is lot of eatables for sale while you suffer through
the excruciatingly long wait. There are baths and toilets available,
the former being subjected to the same treatment as the latter.
Those intending to follow this option are requested to keep handy
additional clothes to change into.

The more affluent options come in the form of tickets and
appointments. Tickets with bar codes are issued and stuck around
one's wrist at various counters situated at Tirupati Railway
station, Balaji Temple at T. Nagar, Chennai and the temple premises
itself. The ticket indicates a time when the bearer is supposed to
report for a Darshan. The bearer is then asked to join another
shorter queue that takes far less time than the free Darshan line to
reach the objective. The price ranges from Rs.40 to Rs.1000, the
latter offering the privilege of a longer darshan combined with the
good fortune of performing an archana etc. for the lord. For the
less fortunate ones, the darshan lasts only a few seconds. The
temple is open for Darshan between 0300 hours to 0000 hours
approximately.

On the plus side are the impeccable lodging arrangements, transport,
amenities and, last but not the least, the idol of Lord
Venkatachalapati or Lord Balaji. I must say it was one of the most
breathtakingly beautiful idols I have ever seen. There are no
photographs allowed inside the temple so you will have to see it to
experience its enchanting beauty. If there is one reason why one
must visit the temple, it is the Darshan.

The story behind the temple is a very interesting one, and though my
version is based purely on hearsay, I will reproduce it as I heard
it. Legend says that while Lord Balaji was roaming around Tirupati,
he saw Devi Padmavati and fell for her enchanting beauty
immediately. However, Devi Padmavati was a princess and would marry
a person who was in status higher to her family. To fulfill this
condition, Lord Balaji took a huge loan from Lord Kubera. Though the
marriage ceremony was completed soon thereafter, Lord Balaji could
not return to his heavenly abode at Vaikuntha until the debt was
repaid. The Lord, therefore, asked his followers for help and it is
with this faith and every one of those who visit the temple donates
loads of money to it. It is also said that those who donate money at
the temple are blessed by Goddess Lakshmi to attain more wealth.

There are a number of touts and frauds and "agents" that one must
beware of. Though, with proper negotiations things can be done
pretty efficiently and quickly with their help.

Overall, the journey was a bag of mixed feelings, the end result of
which was quite satisfactory. I would advise everyone to pay a visit
at least once to this temple and undergo an experience that is
shared by an astonishing hundred thousand pilgrims everyday!








Kanyakumari - The virgin Goddess

India is probably one of those privileged lands which have high mountains on one side and oceans and sea shores on the others. Often in literature, the former are likened to the crown of the country whose feet are washed by the oceans. India is also one of those rare countries that have their shores shared between not one, not two, but three great seas. And there is probably only one place in the whole world where one can witness the “confluence” of three great seas; and that place is Kanyakumari. This unique geographical phenomenon has made this little town in the southern most tip of mainland India one of the significant destinations in any religious or pleasure trips that one seeks to undertake in this country. The fame of Kanyakumari has in the past attracted great saints like Swami Vivekananda and Mahatma Gandhi. There is beauty in every part of this little town and one has to be there to witness it.
The town is well connected by rail and road to many cities in the south India. In fact, it was also one of the end points of the longest railway journey in our country for a long time (The privilege is now enjoyed by Tiruananthapuram and Guwahati). Best options would be a train from Chennai or a bus or train from Trivandrum.
The oldest and the most ancient landmark in this town is the temple of Goddess Kumari who prayed to Lord Shiva to be accepted as wife by him. The name of this place has taken after the name of the Goddess. During the Raj, it was also known as Cape Comorin, which according to me is probably a British spoilt version of “Kumari”. The town is so small that an enthusiastic tourist may actually walk the entire length and breadth of the town and not shed a drop of sweat. Anyway, buses are available and the fares are rock bottom. The auto rickshaw fellows may seek to fleece you but their higher limits of fare exaggerations still seem reasonable to someone who has had the past experience of auto rickshaw nightmares at Delhi, Mumbai or Chennai. In short, traveling in and around Kumari is not expensive.
The temple is rather small by South Indian standards, but comes with the usual ingredients of Pujaris, Poojas, Kumkums, and Prasads. The street to the temple is lined on both sides by Shops wherefrom one can buy little curios, essential stuffs, food items etc. After the experience at Tirupati, it was quite relieving to find unrestricted entry at the temple. Strangely, all men are supposed to enter the temple with bare torsos. I could not figure out the reason behind this except that, as described by a Pujari, it is a mark of respect to the Devi. The reason was good enough for me and since I have visited a few more temples in South India where such a rule existed, it was not a surprise to me.
The major attraction for any tourist at Kumari is the Vivekananda Rock Memorial.
The Rock is about a hundred meters from the shore and a regular ferry service exists between the mainland jetty and the rock. The tickets is 20/- for a ride. The Rock has two Mandaps; one belonging to Swami Vivekananda and the other belonging to a Holy Foot. The Holy Foot is a foot shaped carving found on the rock and is believed to be a foot print of Goddess Kumari who stood on this rock on one leg and performed the Tapasya. The Rock memorial has a tall statue of Swamiji whose photographs we are not allowed to take from inside the hall. Below the statue was mentioned the year of death of Swamiji and the “probable” dates when Swamiji attained Samadhi on the rock. Besides these, there wasn’t much to see on these rocks.
There is another rock adjacent to Vivekananda’s, and this one is dedicated to arguably the greatest Tamil poet, philosopher and saint – Tiru Valluvar. The rock supports a huge statue of the saint carved out of many rocks that were then joined together. It was inaugurated fairly recently. The statue is about 133 feet long which corresponds to 133 chapters in the greatest epic written by the saint – Tirukkural. Tourists can climb up to the feet of the statue. The view from this point is quite breathtaking! Inside the base of the statue, the entire Tirukkural is inscribed on the walls and also its translation in English. It makes a very entertaining and enlightening read and inspires one to lead a very principled life. It is a must read for anyone who visits this place and one is requested to take out at least half an hour for this exercise.
Such is the beauty of Kanyakumari that lot of people find themselves attracted to it. Mahatma Gandhi too could not resist its charm and there is a place here dedicated to him called Gandhi Mandapam. My interest in this place was two fold – A curiosity about how and when Gandhiji got associated with this place, and the fact this was the place, as told to me by a local, where one could witness the “Sangam” of the three oceans! Apparently, Gandhiji did happen to arrive here and succumbed to the beauty of the place as described in his beautiful words inscribed below his portrait in the Mandapam. Also, after he died, his ashes were brought to this place and kept before they were - for the lack of a better word - given out into the sea. At the place where the ashes were kept, stands a small stone which receives the Sun’s rays only on the 2nd of October every year through a small hole on the roof. It is amazing that on no other day does this phenomenon occur! At least, this was what I was made to believe and I did not find reasons to disagree with it.
The greatest attraction for tourists in Kanyakumari is the Sunrise and Sunset. Unfortunately, my itinerary did not permit me to witness this often beautifully described natural phenomenon. However, one is requested to find time to witness these if possible.
There are numerous hotels, residencies etc. in and around Kanyakumari and therefore, staying over will not be a problem. But there are agents, touts and brokers in every nook and corner looking for unsuspecting tourists. Vivekananda Kendra can be a good option for people looking for accommodation.
A note of caution for casual travelers – There are some travelers like me who do not like to carry enough cash with them with the hope that there are those ubiquitous ATMs to bail them in times of immediate need of money. Astonishing it may be for them that there are no ATMs in the town except for one belonging to the State Bank of India. Others are located at least 18kms away in the town of Nagarcoil, the bus fare to which is a measly Rs.11.

Tuesday 10 May 2005

Modern Man - Back to basics.

A brief look at the habits of all the animals that we classify as uncivilized will convey to us that their lives are nothing more than a repeating sequence of eating and sleeping punctuated by acts of species propagation in their respective mating seasons. Only the species of Human beings evolved into a life of more complex and inter-twined individual and social life with duties specified as diverse as keying in obscure code into computers, creating and disposing of the garbage, taking care of parents, families, children, and cheering for home team. Well, I am not delving into a Human's life other than the one that concerns him at the most basic level. The basic duty as chosen by nature for many animals, and especially for monkeys if we believe in Darwin's theory, is that male hunts, gathers food, eats, sleeps and occasionaly finds a female to mate with, while the female hunts, gathers food, eats, sleeps, occasionaly finds a male to mate with, and more importantly, propagates the species forward by giving birth to its young ones, introducing them to the big bad world, and teaching them the techniques to survive and multiply.

In most of the species, the male is the stronger sex, the strength being used to impress the female and thus presenting strong credentials to be deemed eligible for mating. Not that health is not an important eligibility for a female, but strength is solely in the male domain, and a distinguishing feature between the males of the species. Human, it seems, was (or should I say, is) no different going by the information that historians have gathered about the cave-men.

As Humans evolved, responsibilities were added to the male's life. There were duties assigned to him with respect to his family, his herd, his community, his land etc. At the primary level, a man was supposed to earn bread for his family while the female took care of their children. As the Human race went through various struggles, it became more important for the male to protect females who were not as strong as him. It would not be far from the truth to assume that the institution of marriage was established only as a consequence of this need for a man to protect females in his community.

This institution underwent numerous changes for thousands of years to evolve into the form we know it as today. However, in the meantime, the roles of the male and the female have undergone innumerable changes, more significantly in the female domain. The female is not only interested in just raising her children, but also in earning bread for herself, in devising schemes and methods to protect herself. The man, on the other hand, has remained limited to the job of earning bread and protecting his family. However, even this job has become redundant given the female propensity to be more and more independent of her male counterpart.

This brings us to a very basic question. What will be the role of the Human male if the female attains more and more independence in her life? Will it boil down to just eating, sleeping, and occasionally oblige a female by participating in the process of copulation with her? A life, I dare say, not many males will mind leading.

Thursday 5 May 2005

blah...

just so wanted to write something, but my mind goes blank.

just so want to discover some excitement now.

read some code, fix some bugs, read blogs, write blogs, check email and life goes on...

it rained yesterday in bangalore, and the weather was pleasant.

gol-gappas in bangalore suck!

Tuesday 3 May 2005

If only...

Last week, I was on a trip to the north, visiting Punjab, Dilli, and Nagpur. Though the trip was nice, I was almost made to regret my decision not to postpone the trip by a week. Here are the reasons why I could have gone a week later on this trip.

1. My mom would have accompanied me.
2. I could have played the all-important, do or die, cricket match of the first round for Trilogy.
3. I could have attended the marriage of my friend's sister in Dilli.
4. The national roaming rates came down by a third starting May '05!
5. I wouldn't have had to cancel two tickets that I had booked on Rajdhani, and wouldn't have had
to toil in the sleeper class with the Indian summer at its peak!

If only....well, that's what life is all about. :-)

Tuesday 19 April 2005

Update...

I. In the last couple of days I came across two people with who I had a brief interaction and briefer still introduction. Funnily enough, both interactions were online, and were initiated from the other side.

I am really amazed at how the communication revolution has helped people develop more contacts with fellow human beings. The distance is now immaterial. I talk to my mother almost every alternate day over the phone, and really, since cell phones have become our primary instrument of communication, I do not feel homesick as much as I used to before I acquired the gadget.

Blogging is another technology that simply amazes me. It has been able to keep friends and relatives informed about ourselves, or voice our opinions to other, or form communities with shared interests, or develop acquaintances with strangers. It is incredible to see the different kinds of people and their varied blogs that we encounter on the webspace. Yes, the variety does exist even if the bloggers are not entirely honest in their online avtaar.

I wonder what the next communication revolution will be!

II. I am seriously thinking about the future course of my life. I have converged on two paths and it is a matter of I choosing one of them which, I must hasten to add, is proving to be an extremely difficult task. The first path, hold your breath, is to pursue a PhD and though a little intimidated I am with the thought, especially after the ordeal I went through during my Masters, it seems to me to be the next logical step now. The other path is UPSC, or more popularly known as Civil Services, or IAS as is usually referred to. The reason I want to go for this is the immeasurable power that I will be in possession of, and the perks that I will be eligible to enjoy which are available to the common citizenry only at a premium. The disadvantage, of course, is the lack of money and a chance of I ending up in an insignificant desk job in an obscure department.

III. The honeymoon with Trilogy seems to be coming to an end. Now the tough and mundane life of a regular job seems to be catching up. It is not as exciting as it used to be though not half as bad as how some other people find their jobs.

IV. Two films I want to watch - Mumbai Express & Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events . I read the first three books of the latter, and though they are what one might describe as suitable for a young audience only, I found them very interesting and humourous to read. I intend to buy or borrow the next eight books in the series and read them.

V. Bunti aur Babli has nice hummable songs, and definitely downloadable.

Monday 4 April 2005

Should we even care?

A bus service is announced between Sri Nagar and Muzaffarabad, and the media men hail it as a stepping stone toward lasting peace between India and Pakistan, the politicians project it as one of their major accomplishments toward bringing about a "solution" to the problem, and the people are in general made to feel as if the world is now turning into Utopia.

Then comes out of nowhere a threat from militants, or as Mushy likes to put euphemistically, "freedom fighters" who boldly announce to the world that they are ready to kill their own people if they decide to mingle among themselves. That allowing kashmiris to meet kashmiris is in a way trying to divide kashmir and kashmiri people. Interesting!

The people are alarmed, the government under pressure, and the media in a frenzy. I beg to ask why we should at all be bothered. If the militants are so keen to cause harm to the people whose rights they apparently are fighting for, why should we even bother with the security cover etc.? The Indian government is doing the best it could to ease the tensions, and if the militant organizations are hell bent on earning ill-will of the people, so be it.

If anything, this will be good for the Indian cause in the long run.

Tuesday 1 March 2005

no more jammin'

Lately I have been doing a lot of coding. And surprisingly, it has not been at work. Earlier, there was Bitwise 2k5 organized by IITKgp, and then there was the contest of all contests - Google Code Jam, the India edition.

Having spent a lot of time coding during the days leading upto the Bitwise2k5, one would have thought I would have gained considerable amount of expertise to code quickly and correctly. That did not happen. I failed miserably at Bitwise.

Then, having spent a significant number of hours logged onto the topcoder site to practise for Google code jam, one would have placed a high bet on my qualifying through to the next round. But, that too did not happen.

My motivation to take part in these competitions was to assess my coding skills, although I would be lying if I say that money was not an important factor in both the cases. After having failed in both the events, I have to now concentrate anew on my coding skills and have to improve my thinking, designing, coding, and running time.

I have understood in my last seven months in the Industry that coding correctly is not good enough, the speed and efficiency plays an important role if one desires to advance up the corporate ladder quickly.

I am looking out for suggestions to achieve these goals as of now. If anyone has any important tips to give, please do so. It will be kind of him/her.

Thursday 10 February 2005

thoughts....

kya khauf hai tumko humse
kis baat se katraate ho
hum dosti ka haath badhate hain
tum haath jhatak kar jate ho

kuch aur nahi hai chaaha humne
fir kyun humse sharmaate ho
na kha jaayenge tumko hum
jo itna tum ghabraate ho.

gar baate ye itni galat hai to
kaan pakad khada ho jaunga
par haske tum do baat kaho
to khushh bada ho jaunga


ps:

are o! aasman wale bata, is mein bura kya hai
khushi ke chaar jhonke gar idhar se bhi guzar jaayen!

Monday 31 January 2005

Jack and Jill

The bihari version :-)


Jackwa aur Jillwa
Gaye upar Hillwa
Paani bhari ke waaste

Jackwa gir gawa,
uka khopdiya phoot gawa
aur Jillwa awat ludkan pooore raaste


ps:


Jack and Jill
went up the hill
to fetch a pail of water
what they did,
I don't know, but
when they came, they had a daughter.

Thursday 27 January 2005

I hate <b>IT</b>.

I just hate IT. IT always makes its presence felt when I least expect IT. IT always wants to be with me when the going seems to be very easy and pleasant. I never asked IT to be with me. IT is an unwanted nuisance. I would like to eliminate IT entirely from my life. Everyday, I pray to God that IT should disappear permanently. I am sure God will listen to me someday and will bring about complete destruction on IT.

IT spoils all the good things in my life. An immense amount of heartache - yes heartache, that is it, and nothing else - IT causes. If only I could strangle IT to death, crush IT, stamp on IT, mutilate IT, and dispose off IT, I would be happy.

If not, at least let me find a way to live normally even when IT is around.

Oh, just how much I hate LOSING!

Monday 17 January 2005

Another example

Just why do I believe that media is not helping the deteriorating situation.
A retd. colonel has this to say, "The media, under the garb of 'transparency,' has been sensationalising such events, and has taken a self appointed adversarial role vis a vis the armed forces. It should take a leaf from the book of the Western media that is very, very careful when it comes to coverage of the military".(ref: this link)

Again, it may be noticed, that the mediamen are only bothered about the "news items" which can further their careers and do not apply mind, logic, heart to their obligations and responsibilities vis-a-vis their country.

ps:
Finally, Laloo has managed what he set out to do - cover up the asses of those who burnt the train at Godhra. With assembly elections approaching in Bihar and given Laloo's history of caste/religion politics, it comes as no surprise. The game of law-in-the-hands-of-politicians continues.

pps:
The game continues in TN too where Ms. Jayalalitha has the audacity to unabashedly say that she is not interfering in the Kanchi Shankaracharya's case. The day the senior Seer was released, the junior Seer was arrested who was till then not even a co-accused or a suspect! The charges - just the same as were slapped against the senior Seer - without adding a single string of evidence to the trash that was rubbished just two days prior by the Supreme Court.

Thursday 13 January 2005

We - the Indians.

Much has been said, published and displayed about the Tsunami disaster that struck our shores on the 26th of December 2004. Before we let time and distance wipe out these memories from our minds, let us look at the disaster from a new perspective. Once again, as has been witnessed in the past, the disaster affected not just those whose lives were directly affected by it, but also those who were hundreds of miles away from it. People from all over the country have come forward to extend their help to the victims of the disaster without sparing a moment to think about their caste, creed, religion, language, state, or region. This is a direct slap on the face of those politicians and reporters who seek and engrain in the minds of the people of our country that there is no more to our lives than caste, creed, religion etc. People have parted with large sums of money without thinking twice about who the money will eventually go with or whether it will indeed reach the needy at all. This is a clear indication that there is an underlying principle that binds all the people of this country and however it may be bombarded with divisive talks and ideologies, it manages to prevail in the end and guides our actions, especially in times of distress as was seen during Kargil, Gujarat earthquakes, and Tamilnadu tsunami.

It is distressing to see sometimes that journalists who are bound to the cause of information to all, indulge in misrepresentation or presentation of biased news. While, it is a matter of pride for our country that we have taken up relief operations in all earnestness, there is a small number of people who would like to dilute the self-pride by maligning it with stories the have the divisive politics as their genesis. Some such reports have appeared on rediff itself that tend to play up the caste issue even while there is commendable work being done in the region to rehabilitate the victims. My appeal to them is to stop debasing us, our society and, our culture in this manner while being a passive spectator to it. A journalist’s responsibilities might end with a news report, but a citizen’s duty begins just there. I would urge these journalists, for once, to take an active role in eliminating such issues that they experience in the society. It will do the society no harm if they spread awareness among people educating them about the ills in the society and inspiring them to work together for each other’s benefit. It is my conviction that if they are such good writers, their oratory skills will not any less efficient either in putting across their good thoughts to people. I remember a journalist in Mumbai witnessing the rape of a minor mentally retarded girl in a local train as a mute spectator. If only he had shown a little courage and initiative, he could have influenced far more number of people to act against such atrocities than his written column would ever have.

It is time that we looked at our country as our own and thought it our responsibility to take steps that benefit it and its people. It is time that we stopped looking at the problems in our society as an outsider because we are part of the same society that we criticize. If those problems do not affect us, then either we are not part of this society at all, or those problems do not exist at all.

It is time we looked at ourselves for who we are; we, the Indians.

Monday 10 January 2005

ek choti si prem kahani

liye gilaas haath mein
dekhe nazar bachaaye
ladkee jab koi paas se
hay! matakti jaaye

hay! matakti jaaye
hum dil ko ye samjhaaye
dekh ke mujh ko ek baar
vo muskaati jaaye

vo muskaati jaaye
nazar humse takraayee
dekh ke uska roop rang
dil ne li angdaayi

dil ne li angdaayi
ek josh humpe chaaya
pyaar ki duniyaa mein
humne kadam badhaaya

humne kadam badhaaya
ki jaa ke haath milayen
dil ki baatein bol kar
usko gale lagaayen

bas itna hi tha sochaa
ki apni kismat phooti
dekh ke uska boyfriend
saari himmat chooti

saari himmat chooti
ki uski aisi kaaya
jaise manush shareer mein
ho khud bheem samaaya

socha chalo chhod de
hum nahin naadaan
dil ke badale jaan ko
hum na kare kurbaan

Tuesday 4 January 2005

Another song - and more goose pimples.

One of the best written songs in Hindi film music - definitely.

"Bekas pe karam keejiye sarkar-e-madina..." from Mughal-e-Azam.

The song can be found here.

For those who find the Urdu a little heavy, here is a little help .