A 200 (170 balls) in a Test match

When we used to watch cricket at home, my mother used to talk about how she used to sit near the radio and listen to the commentary. This was before television was invented, or was invested but was not a normal fixtue in houses yet. I remember me and my brother sniggering on hearing that.

The year is 2009. I am at office and part of the employed labor force of this country. How do I watch cricket? CricInfo's online commentary.

I am sure He up above is having a small chuckle.

Sunny Disposish – As sung by Bertie Wooster!

Any time you hear the thunder rumble down
Don't let her tumble down
Or castles crumble down
If the blues appear just make the best of them
Just make a jest of them
Don't be possessed of them
          At the risk of sounding rather platitudinous
          Here's what I believe should be the attitude in us
          A sunny disposish will always see you through
          When up above the skies are black, 'stead of being blue
          Mr. Trouble always makes our faces long
          But a smile will have him saying "so long”
It really doesn’t pay to be a gloomy pill
It’s absolutely most ridic, positively sil,
The rain may pitter patter
It really doesn’t matter
For life can be delish
With a sunny disposish!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQ0XAQCeR_M

Irregardless of it all

I am trying out a new software. I like going to download.com and downloading random software applications from there. Found something called a Revo Uninstaller. Real cool it is.
This one is called Windows Live Writer. This I found in Microsoft’s optional updates. Supposed to make blogging easier. Lets just see how it works.

Have a dastardly cold. Have you ever said something aloud,something that come naturally, that you wonder where exactly you picked it up from. Like this dastardly cold bit. I am sure I picked up this phrase from a book and it just suddenly came to me head. What exactly does it mean? Why is a cold dastardly? Because it attacks you when you least expect it and without you having any idea how you got it?

Anyway, not in any mood to blog, what with my hands reaching out for a tissue every two minutes.

Oh, I have a lil person who’ll call me athai. She is pretty adorable and I have much respect for her. She did not scream when I held her, which is a lot considering how badly I held her. She be my brothers little angel, though he called her an impatient lil devil :)  She’ll go by the name of Samudra Ajith.

She makes so many things in my life seem trivial.   They were always trivial, only I was too blind.

Jo'burg : A travel diary

The period before a proposed trip can be classified into three parts. The first one when you hear the proposal and when you think to yourself that it will be nice if it works out but otherwise no big deal. The next is when the trip takes shape and you start to feel the excitement though you try to hide it so as not to jinx since a million things can go wrong. The third is the crucial. The excitement builds up and then the probability of it actually happening is at a maximum. Things, if they fall apart now lead to major disappointment, sulkiness, surly words and the like. But if it comes through in this stage, then it is all clear.

The proposed trip to Singapore happened in the third stage. The proposed trip to Colombo skipped second and was wavering between the two and then it went over to the third stage and crashed.

Then I heard about South Africa. Three days off from office, five days including the weekend, at a time when the boss was shouting at me on a daily basis. Then I had to tell him, it was for a whole week, though technically three working days considering there were some public holidays that week. Everything that could go wrong decided to go wrong before I was supposed to leave. But I had been overworking and pretty tired, and this trip was the only thing I had to look forward to. I was not ready to give it up, though as a responsible employee in the corporate world I should have. I realized though, the world is not going to collapse if you don’t show up at work. It might seem to be the most important thing but it still work. There is only so much you can give to it.

***

So it was a Saturday morning, sent off all the stuff that had to be sent and made all the relevant notes related to work and left the office at noon and went shopping after that. What fun. Nothing could go wrong now, so happily splurged on clothes and all the other stuff that I convinced myself that I’d require. Got lots of knits which lie in the cupboard now begging for an excuse to be worn since here winter mean cool and bearable and not really winter. Got the Lonely Planet too, found graphic novels that I had wanted to buy at discount at the Landmark sale, got awesome clothes and was truly on top of the world.

It was a mad trip. Caught an early morning flight to Cochin, Yesudas also having caught the same flight, my pick up person was late, so waited outside the airport for more than half hour. The ride to the city took like 45 minutes. Five hours later was driving back to the airport. The person with the tickets was late. So I had to wait outside the airport again. Then, boarded the sad Jet Konnect flight to Mumbai. No food was served and when you have to pay for the food, you know you are not going to like it, and you end up losing all the appetite you have. Since you are not spending time eating you end up feeling crankier. The pages on the book don’t seem to turn and even the eyes don’t remain shut.

Mumbai. It was my first time in that city. After having haunted the Chennai airport, the Mumbai one was pretty awesome. I don’t know how the international terminal is at Delhi but I guess the connectivity at Mumbai is better. So had dinner at the Hyatt and met three of my idiot friends there and was good catching up.

***

Close to midnight

Mumbai’s international terminal

Flying South African

The guy at the counter says no window seat. The he says there are no three seats together; I was traveling with my parents. Figuring there must not exist a guy who can turn down a girls request for a window seat; I did not worry too much about it. Security checks were terrible. You think they would have more hand baggage scanning machines considering the traffic they must handle on a daily basis. But queue you must and wait forever you will.

Mumbai duty free was unexciting. So I propped down with the Lonely Planet. Boarded the flight at around 0130 hrs and came across my first African. He was the steward and a friendly chap he was. I asked two men whether they would change seats so that I could sit with my father. Both refused claiming they wanted window seats. I mean, if the seat were having better leg space I’d understand. But 40 year old men saying they wanted window seat??? And it would be these same morons who would insist on going to the toilet every hour or so making you shift in the seat to accommodate their burly self in the already cramped up cattle class. Disgusted I was but for the sake of my folks did not get worked up and settled on my allotted seat. Then another nice man who had noticed this pointed out that the two seats next to him were vacant. So my father and I settled there. The seating in SA was 2-3-2. So though it was not a window seat, it was the aisle seat on the 3 seater. So was okay with that.

The food was good and they served it twice at convenient timings so that your sleep does not get interrupted. There is nothing more awful than having to be woken up saying food is being served. Let sleeping people sleep. Feed them after they wake up and when they are hungry. Thankfully slept through most of the 9 nine hour flying time and hence did not feel as cranky as usually I do on more than an hour flights.

***

We reached the city of Johannesburg at around 9 in the morning, local time. SA is three and hours behind IST.
Cute African guy dancing and humming at the Customs section and the most adorable beagle sniffer dogs prowling around the baggage claim

Welcome to South Africa. Host to the 2010 soccer world cup

***

We had lunch at a Casino complex. However tired you are the last thing you want to do on a trip is sleep, so explored the nearby malls and the local crafts market after lunch. Got called “ma sistah” and got used to the usage of yes and no at the end of the question like “this is nice, yes? I make this myself, yes”. They knew we were Indians and had heard of Mumbai. Nobody knew Kerala though.

***

I had great hopes of watching Cats that night, after reading about it in the In-flight magazine. Sadly, the show was on all days of the week except Monday and what do you know that day was a Monday. Then to spoil my mood further, a stern looking guy asks me for my ID when I went to explore the casino. Told him was I was quite above 18 and anyway was not going to gamble. He let me in, though I wonder what he would have done if he had caught me actually gambling, considering my ID was with my mother and I had no idea where she was.

***

Next city went to Sun City. Sun City is a man-made entertainment complex having some amazing water sports, star hotels, a croc farm, a small zoo, an aviary and the like. A place where there is something for everyone kind of thing. The place shot into prominence because a Miss Universe was held here. Went to the croc farm and saw my first Meerkat. I was pretty excited, they being pretty cool. Then an Africa dude very sweetly carried some parrots so that I could take a photo with them. Not Jurong really, but was touched was his thoughtfulness.

***

We visited Pilanesburg game reserve later that afternoon. I tried badly to go to Kruger but all the travel people said it was just not possible to do Kruger on such a short duration. So I had to settle for the nearby Pburg game reserve. Our guide was a guy named Walter, who made it a point to mention at the beginning that there were no tigers in Africa contrary to what anyone might have heard.

The African bush forest is quite a contrast to the Indian jungles. In India, you tend to expect animals to live in thick green foliage. Over here, it is mostly brown and the foliage is sparse. The reserve is mostly barren but expansive. The plains seem to roll on forever. I was quite excited to see all the plants and trees that I used to plant whilst playing Zoo Tycoon.

Saw the Springbok, the Antelope and the Impala. The Impala has two black stripes on its butt and along with the tail, makes it look like the alphabet M. McDonalds for the lions, Walter says matter-of-factly. The Warthog , better known as Pumba, next came along, and then the Wildebeasts and the Zebra. Then, our first sighting of an African elephant, though it was quite far away.

Along the water hole, 6 lionesses. Sleeping. Apparently they had been sleeping all day. They were also quite far away and to anyone would have looked like rocks. It struck me then. In this day and age where there is so mad-made marvel and structures, people still fly and drive down from far to see them animals in their surroundings, with a high chance that you might not even sight them. If you are amongst the lucky ones who do, you see them sleeping. To most, to see a lion is the same regardless of the place, whether in a zoo or in a reserve in Africa or Gir. To them the concept of nature is lost. To the other who can feel the difference, they say a silent prayer thanking god that at least in these reserves we let them lions be, and do not interfere with them. You find so much peace when you see nature as it is supposed to be, nature without the plastic and without the honks and when you make an effort to respect her, her power and her fierce beauty.

The Giraffe was sighted next. For such a tall creature it is incredibly graceful. There is no awkwardness in its movement, no hurry. Just a measured gentle walk.

Then the elephant. He was just chewing on some plants near our bus, when he decided to have a little fun by scaring the shit out of us. He looked at us and came charging towards our bus, all trunks moving violently. I was the closest to him, and had been taking a video of him chewing never thinking what his intentions could be. So he comes charging along, and he looked as if he was going to knock over the bus. I saw his eyes then he came so close to me that I could have touched him without me extending my arm much. I was still taking the video, but my eyes were on him. I remember thinking then ok he is going to knock down my camera. The thought he’d try to kill us never came up. Maybe because I saw his eyes and they looked like he was just trying to show us who was the boss. I did seriously though think he was after my camera. I did not want to risk that, so moved away from the window. He came closer gave us all the eye and then went back.

Walter says I have been doing this for 30 years. That bull had no intentions of toppling us over and was just scaring us. Well, the bull did manage to do that. Some idiots on the bus shut up after that. I was grinning all the way back. You can’t help but appreciate and respect someone who can scare you silly, by being clever. Size does matter, more especially when you have a smart head to go with it.

Unfortunately could not spot the remaining of the big 5 – the cheetah, the rhino and the hippo. There is always a next time. Things to do before I die – Spend a night in the least at Kruger.

***

The next day decided to do a more fun thing, and went to a Lion park. They had baby lion cubs there and you are allowed to play with them, though they take no responsibility if one of them decides to take a swipe with those oh-so-cute-paws. Imagine Simba as a cub. Now imagine around 6-7 Simbas. You cannot stop going awwwww . The eyes, the tail, the paws, the fur, the ears and everything else. The way they swagger about. Those lil ones were awwwnes magnified.

Then went on a ride and Gambit the giraffe decided he was feeling lonely and decided to make our acquaintance. He poked his big head in and I got to pet him also. Animals and their eyes. They are so pure and you can get lost in them. Saw some more Zebras, bucks and lions there. This being a park they were kept in separate areas and unlike a reserve like Pburg they are not all together and the lions cannot prey on the zebra.

***

That afternoon was the cricket match. Now I go to cricket matches for just one reason and that reason being to gawk at Dravid. I have been in love with him from the moment he walked on to the crease at Lords in 1996. So Dravid conveniently decides to practice at the nets close to where we were sitting though we were in the balcony. Deciding I needed a more level view of him I dragged my father to a better stand so that I could stare to my hearts content. Sachin was not playing. I have never seen him bat till now. He always gets injured for those matches.

The West India wickets were falling rapidly so was good fun. Then it was time for the Indian batting. The first wicket fell early and Dravid came on. He walked to the crease, my heart skipped a beat, he hit a four, I was flushed with happiness, and then he got himself run out, my heart stopped then, and then numbness, his lonely walk back to the stands, and I sigh to myself thinking certain things never change. I wonder if and when I will ever get to witness a great innings from him first hand.

After that there was no point to it. News came in that Australia had beaten Pakistan, so there was no hope for India to make it to the next round. So the batsman decided to take their own sweet to wind up the innings. Me, I was trying not to succumb to the unhappiness by making frequent visits to the food counter.

***

The next day it was time to leave the city. The flight was at 11. Luckily, I got a window seat this time. I went mad at the duty free and got a Tanzanite stone and lots of African trinkets. The best past about shopping is when you have things to buy for others. It is so much more fun and fulfilling then, that you have people to buy stuff for.

The nine hours flight again. We had to camp at Mumbai airport so as to catch an early morning flight to Trivandrum. Celebrated my Grandmothers 80th birthday and got acquainted with my nieces and nephews. My brother with his newly discovered short sightedness. Not giving into jet lag till the night. Sleeping like the dead and waking up late the next day. Sleeping again post lunch and catching the train to Chennai the next day.

***

Work

Things at work had not crashed but were quite bad. I got shouted at again. Ah well, at least I went to Joburg. Work will always be work. Get your money, stop cribbing cause things could be a whole lot worse. They could be a whole lot better. That will happen when I decide to make that choice. Now I will just shut up and try to figure out things.

How to get back to life and how to get to Kruger

1500

Fifteen hundred bucks will get you,

a Panasonic cordless phone with three year warranty or

two kurtas from W which you will lose interest in within a year or

the ability to pay the phone bill for two months or

an Iron Maiden concert DVD and a Batman graphic novel, which could help pass a lazy day or

30 small chocolate squares from Ecstasy which will not last a day even.

So, does time have anything to do with utility?

What's in a number? I wonder...

The phone number.

Especially the cell phone number. Those ten digits that can get you through to any person at any time.

One my closest friends called me from her land line and whilst punching in the numbers realised that this number had remained the same for the past six years or so.

It was second semester of first year. Cell phones were banned in Stella, which obviously meant that everyone had it. After convincing my parents, my mother actually, of the need for a girl to have a cell phone when she was away from home, and that their arguments like your brother did not have cell phone in college did not hold since the times had changed, I arrived in hostel with a brand new Samsung phone.A navy blue R220. Samsung, because my family were anti-Nokia and hence so was I.

After the initial ooh-aahs, and the hiding it in the cupboard so that the warden does not snoop upon it, I dragged the same afore mentioned friend to the Hutch Shop to get the SIM.

Now the Hutch Shop at TTK Road, at that time, was just brand new, so it was all swanky and cool. It was populated by nice looking chaps, who were more commonly referred to as birds. Starring at them birds was a good way to pass time, when one had to go there. Had forgotten to take my ID card, so went back to hostel, got it and came back. and soon, had my first cell phone number. I remember choosing the number cause there were no zeros in it , and is sounded nice to say it.

Then proceeded to tell the whole world about it.

Time flew. Three years completed. Friends moved to newer places and hence had newer phone numbers.I remained in Chennai, for another two years.

Then, friends again moved to newer places. New phone numbers again. Some lost phones, some lost faith in their network service providers. Again new phone numbers.

These people got to mark every new beginning with a new phone number. Some because it was a new city, some because it was a new college, some because it was a new job, and some because of a new relationship.

Where was I? Two years went and I remained in Chennai. Got the connection converted to Post paid. Paid a nominal amount and retained my number.

Though I did use other numbers when at home, I lost the SIM cards and don't even remember the numbers now.

My other four members of my family, have the same last 5 digits of their cell phone numbers.

So the Vodafone guy looks in disbelief when I tell him, that I have had the same number for more than 5 years.

This is another thing that makes me realise, how I like to cling onto things. How I hate throwing away the smallest of stuff, I still cry whenever I think of all my favourite T-Shirts that I had to give away and how rooted and quite unwilling to change unless absolutely required I am.

Maybe you can actually tell a lot from a number.

Life in slow motion

A friend recently made a comment about me that my movements were always delayed and that it was like watching a slow motion picture. For the heck of it I argued against it. Though, I then proceeded to be the person who ate the least and yet finished lunch the last.

Though most people cannot be categorized as extremely slow or fast at anything, you can generally club them into either the two categories. There are those who do things at the last moment and who need the adrenalin rush to get things done. Those, who have a quick wit, and are always ready with a retort, and those who can factor in external changes in a jiffy and make the best of it.

Then there are those, who are rooted, who pace themselves whatever they are doing who have to think a lot before getting anything done. Having to weigh the costs and the benefits before doing anything, even the most minor of things, and in the extreme cases, for talking to someone itself.

The latter are the sort of people, who can stare at a bus, but can’t seem to be able to run after it and climb aboard it. Like the person who can see the tennis ball approach, but can’t seem to move away or to lift the racquet up, so that it does not smack your face. Like the person who can see the barricade on the road, but can’t swerve the steering wheel enough to avoid it.

Personally, I am slower than a snail when it comes to doing things. I get things done in the time frame specified. I stretch it but. If I have to hurry, I crumble. My mind refuses to work, and I can’t frame a sentence even, which is why I sometimes wonder what on earth I am doing in a consulting firm. Where people keep changing their minds and expecting results immediately, and things that I have been doing for a long time eventually end up without any use. Painful it gets sometimes. Yes, I have been hit on the face by tennis balls, stood at bus stops for more than an hour watching the buses go by. I have been shouted at by people for being slow in doing things, and I have always been the last one to finish eating.

Life, it is either a fast paced exotic ride or an easy laid back cruise. Either case, it takes but a moment for everything to crumble, and much longer to rebuild. Change can do that. And a wiser person emerges.

***

I am beginning to hate Facebook. It is sad that people have to know about their friends from wall posts and status messages. Nothing can beat the feeling that envelops you when a dear person calls and says “Hey, what’s up, you know what?”, rather than having to read about it. True, it is a good way to keep in touch, to drop random comments here and there, abuse someone and pull someone’s leg. It can never beat the long hours on the phone, or the meeting up and talking.

I don’t talk a lot, which means that the people I do talk with mean a lot to me. I tend to treasure every conversation, every single world. It is but sadness I feel when all that comes down to a wall post.

Noise? Really? What ever!

Metal music started blaring in my house, whenever my bro came home from college. I was into Linkin Park and Green Day that time. Basically, we both gave our folks massive headaches.

I hated metal music in the beginning. Could not understand the need for anyone to scream so. Then one song would waft into my room, and then I would be hooked. And then the band was forgiven for screaming. Anyone who could sing such songs could not be that bad. That's how Unforgiven and Metallica happened. Fear of the Dark and Iron Maiden. Somewhere In Time and Kamelot. A host of other songs which I have heard, and liked but have no idea who sang them.

I grew to give metal some respect after that, though I still could not stand it if the vocalist screamed a lot. I am far from being a metal head.

Then Iron Maiden came to Blore in 2008. My bro was going, and I figured I'd visit the friend folks there, so tagged along. Was my first concert in a way. Maybe that's why I have such fond memories of it. Bruce Dickinson with his Scream for me Bangalore, singing along to Fear of the Dark, watching my geeky bros head bang and other small moments. Made my day.

The thing that struck me was the amazing power that metal heads generate. India may not have the typical metal head as personified in the western nations, but they are still looked on as being weird and having to constantly defend their taste.

Not that they care what others think. Metal music gives them an identity that binds them with other metal heads across the globe. That is what music strives to do , bring people together, and I don't thing any other genre of music has such a visible and powerful following.

I saw two documentaries on metal music after the concert. Flight 666, which followed Iron Maiden on their Somewhere Back in Time World Tour and Metal : A Headbanger's Journey, the former being a tour documentary and the latter tracing the history of metal music.

Headbanger's Journey was a really cool documentary. You don't have to be a metal head to enjoy it. Just need to have an interest in History and people. No other genre of music has had to defend itself as much as metal, and that fact that it still survives and enjoys such devoutness stands testimony to its greatness. People who have nothing to cling to, and are at odds with society, find a voice in metal, and that gives them the faith to live on . This is what music is all about. Giving the listener something to hang on to, something that one can always count on to get you through the darkest of days. Metal music does that. So I don't get why people reject it as noise.

Metal heads are a lucky lot. They have found something to believe in. The songs I like in this genre are very few. But, I will never pass upon an opportunity to go for a metal concert. The passion and the power is inspiring. Even if the guy is screaming on stage.

People should not have to defend their taste in music, or looked on differently because of it. The power of music lies in its ability to enable people to derive hope and hapiness out of it . As long as a musician is able to do that, he is good. Regardless of how much albums he sells, or whether Rolling Stone deems him great. Nobody knows this better than a metal head. They know what they like, and don't give a damn what others think about it.

Along came Bugs!

Good Golly, it's becoming all about Google!

Google Apps is out of Beta

There is going to be a Google Chrome OS

I was someone who refused to jump on the Chrome browser bandwagon, when it was launched, sticking to Mozilla and IE. Somehow, I ended up using Chrome from a few weeks back. Mozilla feels fat and IE feels boring now.

Google analytics seems to be a pretty powerful tool. I recently started tinkering around with it.

Google Reader is slowly becoming indispensable.

You Tube might not be making any much money for Google, but no one can doubt its popularity. Google, though, does seem to have some revenue generating plans for You Tube.

Twitter? Any chance of Google buying them out?

Facebook seems to be more popular than Orkut. Wonder what Google has in mind with respect to Orkut.

And a host of other cool Google stuff.

Google did not face much monopolistic ire, because in the Internet, competition is just a click away, unlike Microsoft and its software bundling.

So, the battle now seems to be between Google and Apple. Both cool companies. Microsoft seems to have lost it.

By the way, Eric Schmidt. Not only is he Google's CEO, but he's a board member of Apple.Small World.

Because google is so popular, it's conceited; have you tried misspelling something lately? See the tone that it takes? "Umm, did you mean...? - Arj Barker

Born on the Fourth of July

Turned 24 a few days back. Marked by conversations, rains and solitude. I told my nephew that there was no cake, and he remarked that there can not be a birthday without cake, and convinced me that there will be one. A friend remembered that it was my birthday, when she overhead a neighbourhood kid singing the national anthem and another kid stating that it was not the Indian Independence day but rather that of the US.

Past Birthdays. My mother whispering Happy Birthday in my ear, whilst I was still sleeping, as soon as the sun rose. My father taking the time off to wish me and then going back to the newspaper. My Grandmother saying piranthanal valthukal and I replying eh and later asking my mother what she said. Being made to wear stupid clothes. Talking with people to whom I had nothing t o say. A Football field cake. Buying sweets to distribute in school. The crab, Tigger, Sathyam and the fools who did not show up at midnight. Constant complaints of being someone hard to buy birthday gifts for.

The 23rd year. Started out with meeting a dear friend who had got back from abroad, unexpected gifts, and the setting in of intriguing feelings. Should have realised then and there how the year was going to turn out.

This birthday nothing happened. Was at peace. Though things seem to be crashing all around. Little little things. Things I am not used to, things that I never had problems with. Worried. Massively. But then I worry a lot, mostly unnecessarily.

Maybe it will be a happy year ahead. After all I have me, my family and my friends.

Chris Martin too.

New divide

Paid a visit to the friendly neighbourhood SBI branch the other day. A year of dealing with them was sufficient enough to know who the people to be avoided are, them being the cranky ones who have always shouted at me.

So headed for the Manager straight. He was incredibly polite. Then spoke to a young chap after, and he actually asked me to please be seated and then got out of the chair to show me whom to meet. I think he was straight from an MBA institute, and hence was willing to run around, instead of sitting at the desk and flipping through a magazine drinking tea. Wonder how long he'd take to become one of them. Then there was this guy, who noticed that I had applied for an account transfer to Kozhikode, and then immediately broke into Malayalam. Anther helpful soul.

For the first time, a pleasant experience at the Anna University SBI branch.

Came back and plonked in front of the TV. That was the day when it finally sunk it that MJ was actually dead. Vh1 was airing a special. Got to see some three videos, before I took pity on the maid sitting by, and decided not to subject her to English music, and gave the remote to her. She put on a Sharath Kumar movie, the story which disturbed me to great extent. Anyway, today, she tells me that she saw the guy who was singing that day, that he was in the news. She proceeded to give me all what she saw in the news, about how lot of people were crying and that there was going to be another round of investigation. She was highly excited that the same guy who she saw singing some day ago, was the same guy in the news. I was amazed that she made the connection, considering he looked different in each of the videos. She asked my why it was so, had to tell her about the plastic surgery and stuff.

Was having a terrible day today. Came back, and no Raymond, Zack & Cody and not even Rico could help me out. Then some idle surfing, and there was Chris. A Coldplay concert. There was sunshine again.

Linkin Park is out with a new single, the theme song for the new Transformer movie. Brilliant video. Nice song too. And Chester well, Chester :)

Everyday create your history

So Michael Jackson is dead, and with it comes the disbelief that follows any death.

In his case the jokes have already started.

He sang some beautiful songs and gave us some brilliant music videos.

True, he was weird. Who isn't. He was in the public eye and the weirdness got magnified. He did things that freaked out people. Things unacceptable. There is no point trying to justify or fathom the reasons. Not that anyone is in any position to.

His music.

My brother had a poster of his on the wall. For getting good grades in the Boards, he wanted the History album cassette and he badly wanted to go see him when he came to India. I used to get scared watching the music video of Thriller. Jam and Black or White were the fun music videos. Do you remember the time was magical and Ghost was cool. Give it to me with Slash was fricking awesome.

I could go on and on, but to me anyway, it all boils down to Will you be there. It hit the right chords the first time I heard it and does continue to do so.

He is now a page in History.

All that is left is the music and the memories of growing up listening to him.

Tales of the years gone by

Scientists have to invent stuff, figure out how and why things happen. Weathermen and Economists have to forecast and say why things will happen the way they think it will happen. You would think historians, who just have to write about things that have already happened, might do a better job of it.

No.

Historians just have to muddle things up. Put it some national pride and emotional sentiments into this field, and it makes one wonder whether anyone knows what did happen.

What got me into this, was this whole thing about Russia or rather the erstwhile Soviet Union not being given the due respect it deserves for its role in defeating Nazi Germany. For the US anyway, WW2 was all about Pearl Harbour, Normandy and Hiroshima. Being the cowboys and saving the world from the Nazis and the Communists. I think they rather hoped the Nazis and the Communists would wipe each other out, but things did not go as figured, and hence they had to step in.

The leaders of the Western nations pissed off the Russians by not acknowledging their contributions in defeating Nazi Germany, when they gathered recently in Normandy for the 65th anniversary of the D-Day landings. Obama was the only to mention the Russian contribution, by stating that the Russians suffered the most losses on the Eastern front. Then he went on to say that , had it not been for the Allies opening the Second front, Nazi Germany would have taken over the entire continent.

Russia lost 13.6 million of its people, 16 times higher than the combined losses of US, Britain and France. It is the Russian opinion, that by the time the Western Allies landed, the Red army which was rolling across Eastern Europe, would have crushed the Nazi forces, with or without the help of the Allies. It is their view, that the Allies chose to open the Second Front not to stop the Nazis but possibly to prevent the Reds from sweeping Europe. This Churchill admitted to in his memoirs.

Then there is the view that Russia aided Hitler, when it signed the Non Aggression Pact. Though recently available documented evidence shows, that Russia had no choice, as its plea for support from the West European nations to keep Hitler in check, went unheeded.

Medvedev established a Kremlin Commission "to counter attemps to falsify history to the detriment of Russia's interest". This was before the Normandy meet. In a few months time, the world will mark the 70 th anniversary of the start of WW2.

Closer home, does anyone know what exactly happened with respect to the Partition. Everyone has their own opinion. Their own views, and all seemingly with irrefutable proof. Growing up in India, you are fed the Indian view on things, and brain washed to think that Indians are right, Pakistanis are wrong. Nehru the hero, and Jinnah the villain. The Brits possibly think that Mountbatten was the genius.

So , how credible can history be? Can a system be devised, where the truth comes out, even if it hurts? Or is there no such thing as the truth. Is it that the story of people will inevitably be flawed as the people themselves are.

***Most of this is drawn from a recent article in the Hindu. It was written by a Russian, and I have hence tried not to take things directly from that article.

Some of us walk, the others drive around, yet some others shout Auto, and then the others...

I got into this major money saving trip, which meant cutting down on expenditure on conveyance. I could quite easily catch a bus or the train in the morning, but then again it is morning. I am not a morning person. Wait, but I am not a late night person either. Hmm...wonder which time-of-the-day person I am.

Anyway, the point being, I convinced myself to go by auto in the morning. Justification for my conscience being that public transportation would imply having to leave early and walking a bit which would probably result in tiredness and hence hampering work place productivity.

So the only option was to return from office by bus, regardless of the time of day, and the crowd, and the weather.

So, I had my first encounter with a drunk guy on the bus. The conductor does not care, and it is the women folk who sought to shout at the guy and then at the conductor. Them also telling me to move away from the guy. Though it a bus, and a crowded one at that, so there was not much moving space. I was genuinely touched by their concern though.

Then the weather. Started raining the moment I stepped out of the bus. I had two options. Be a cat and seek shelter in the shops. Twiddle my thumbs, tap my foot and wait for it to stop pouring. Else be a crab, shrug it all off, knowing that your shell would protect you, and step out and revel in the rain.

The latter being what I did. Got drenched.The only scary part was, that it was dark and I could not see anything. Not much of lightning and thunder either. So not much fear in being outside.Got back home, safely, but soaking wet. Scratched away after that. Rains in Chennai. Nothing to be said more than what I had already blogged about.

A good thing about the bus trips, is when you get back home. Take a long bath, wear some fresh clothes, grab a glass of juice and settle in front of the TV. Blissful it is.

Have some ten days to go, before salary comes. More bus trips. Maybe some train trips.

If I did not have this problem of misjudging distances and having bad reflexes, I would have been part of the driving around clan. Instead I had to be the person who gets struck by tennis balls, fans and cows.

Touchwood, the bus remains good to me.

The city that is Calicut

My parents moved to Calicut a few years before I was born. It is the city that I grew up in and did all my schooling, and the place I call home.

Calicut is a city in the Northern part of Kerala, and is the third largest city in the State. It a five hour journey nothward from Cochin and an eight hour journey southward from Bangalore.It has a long history, and was a significant port for trade and commerce. Vasco Da Gama landed here in 1498.

Calicut, and generally North Kerala has a ragged beauty which sets it apart from the rest of the State. From Calicut driving upward, one comes across the most amazing of beaches. Unexplored and without the tourists. The drive to Wayanad, after all of eight hair pin bends , lets you experience nature's awe inspiring power and beauty. One can get lost in the stories and the myths surrounding the temples, and it is hard not to get sucked away by the power of the mountains. Then there is the lake, the waterfall, the plantations and so on.

Due to the mountains, bordering Tamil Nadu, Kerala and Karnataka, the trains to Bangalore from Calicut, used to take a long round about route. Hence the better option was to drive. Which is what we used to do. The route to Blore involves crossing Wayanad, and a drive through an wildlife sanctuary. All the time I used to pray that we'd chance upon an wild animal. The best I got to see was some wild elephants and a peacock which my father almost ran over.

Another fascinating drive was to Mangalore, which we used to take for the temple there. The the drives to Madikeri and Coorg, and also to Mysore, which was just 5 hours away.

It is a weird thing. I hated car journeys, and still do to an extent, but I have some such nice and vivid memories of car journeys. I miss it to a great extent. With me having moved off to college, and the inevitable disconnection you feel with you family after living away for more than five years, cars journeys have become non-existent. Maybe, it is a good thing, what with my newly acquired back seat car sickness, courtesy my fathers genes.

Coming back to Calicut, the naives call the place Kozhikode. The name Kozhikode originated from the fort that surrounded the place. A sort of Koyil(palace) surrounded by the fort (Kotta). I have heard some Tamilians refer to the place as Kalli-Kottai, so maybe the fort theory holds. It anglicized name Calicut, comes from Calico, a type of cotton that is said to have originated here.

What intrigues me most about the city though,is the state of doing business here. Of all the markets in Kerala, I can safely say that Kozhikode has to be the most difficult to do business in. It is not because of the lack of purchasing power or anything, just that the people here are very comfortable with what they want and have, and hardly experiment. They get fascinated by change, but it is short-lived.

Having lived here all my life, i have seen the birth and death of business. Most of which could have been avoided, if they had done a bit of research before hand, instead of blindly looking at numbers. I do not have much knowledge about the traditional merchants that line the road near the beach, but visibly they seem to have been there for a long time, and will continue to do so.

The big business, the retailers,the franchisees, they are the ones with the most ups-and downs. The major brands that have done well here include Allukkas and Varkeys. There is the electronic retailer Kannankandy and the jewellery brand VNM which has also been here for a long time.

Tata's jewellery brand, Tanishq, was doing well with its own niche market, but in sheer numbers could not compete with the bigger stores. It closed doors, last year. UCB had opened a store, around ten years back, but closed down within a year. I was distraught, but knew it was coming. Imagine my shock, when I saw an UCB store that had just opened the previous day. I just had to shop there today. Apparently, the last store was a franchise, and this one is a company operated store. I am hoping, this time they stick around for some more time, though I am not that optimistic. Another brand in the same boat is Levis. Opened last year, still around, and hopefully will continue to do so. Pepe is another brand store that opened recently. I quite don't think Calicut is ready for UCB and Levis and Pepe. Weirder things have happened.

For some reason, the LEE outlet has manged to survive for more than ten years. Quite an achievement that is.

Odyssey is around. Wont survive, no way.

Spencers had to close its Hyper-Mart and Daily stores. Three years, I think they survived. Planet Sports also closed down.

What people have to realise, is that just on virtue of being the third large city in the State, and with money flowing in the from the Gulf, does not necessarily translate into a good market. The potential to exploit is there, but Calicut is a very different city from Cochin. It takes a lot of business sense, and faith to survive here. Kozhikodans are very choosy people. They get fascinated by things that are big and new. They are not very loyal though, and it takes very less to make them shift. They are very apprehensive in parting with their money, and will hunt around for the best deal.

Doing business anywhere is hard. it is no exception in Calicut. There are but those who know the city well, and admire it for the way it is, and manage to be successful and be there for the long run.

It is a weird city. I always wished I had grown up in a more exciting place. In retrospect, it turned out okay. Kerala is not all about Cochin. Not many people know this though, but what the heck, it is their loss.