Iyer Mess, Salem & Ammu Mess- Here We come!!!

I was an obsessive kid, a complete irony in comparison with the character of my parents, the simplest beings on earth. I haven't achieved much, hell I wasn't even close to getting top ranks in my class; at studies I wasn't actually obsessive but when it came to things like cartoons, games, toys, nuts, bolts, tyres, wires and bulbs etc I was insanely attached. I used to fathom that anything that had managed to gain my attention and had made me feel attracted to it belonged to me and I had to own it even though it was impossible to own certain things at times inappropriate. I guess I have not grown up since the time I had to let go off the blue toy jeep, one of my favorite toys that I remember till date. The only difference now is the things that make me feel depressed, joyous, excited, brood or sulk over are different and the only similarity is that these things are still meaningless I am sure to grow over them just like I lost interest in my toys but at this very present moment, I have lost the discerning sense to think and contemplate about these facts. In short, I am depressed and brooding and sulking over things, moments and people whom I can never own or make mine. And each time I undergo this complex mélange of emotions, I ask myself is it possible to change the person you are?? Don't the traces show even later in your life? And is it possible to forget someone completely or erase one from your memory forever?

Ok!! Enough of depressive talk nor for some gilma (I have no idea where I got this word from, I guess GA used it first) talk. My room mates and me are such big eaters that once we had an egg eating competition in the nearby mess (yes the same mess where the cats patrol up and down alongside tables and where asking for a spoon is a serious crime and dealt with severity of that of a POTA act) and the mess owner had to literally plead us to stop our egg eating competition. We had eaten a total of 32 eggs and the hotel was out of clean plates so the last of the eggs were left on our table in the serving plates itself. These messes are perfect epitomes of the ideology "Unity in Diversity", you would find a northie sitting next to a southie, complete strangers and yet the southie would be teaching the northie how to break a piece of chapatti (Indian bread as they call it in continental culinary language, for the socialites who might stumble upon the place) using just 2 fingers of your right hand. I do not know how do they do it but eating with your left hand is another crime that might provoke unpleasant gestures like banging of plates by the servers on your table and another southie becoming doubtful about your origin as an Indian. And mind it, elbows dripping with sambar and making small hand grenades (rice balls) out of the rice served are few other things that one would notice and need to learn at these messes.

So, yes where were we, yea, I was talking about big eaters and after such a heavy meal our expedition takes a different turn. Note this ritual happens every night. SH stops for his hot badam milk at a bakery close by (yep, you got it right the same malu bakery where dogs are mascots welcoming you at the entrance and juices are made in huge quantities).NG, peeps into the refrigerator and points at the cold badam milk can, he is becoming an expert at sign language, this fellow is talented you know, 2.5 yrs in Bangalore and he has managed without knowing any of the 3 main languages spoken here, Tamil, Hindi or Kanada. He points at the tin of cold badam milk and asks the shopwala "fresh hain/irruka". The already confused shopwala replies "Yes its fresh”. Now I don’t understand why people ask this question every time they go to buy some edible stuff. Do they expect the shopwala to say "No, it’s not fresh, come later" or do they want him to accept that the whole tin was packed and distributed in his own back yard beside an open drain. Would any shopkeeper do that? And that too for a tinned can. The shopkeepers in our area can’t even read the expiry date on the cans. So I play safe ask for a Pepsi for me and GA and take it down in one gulp. There is more, we stop at every bakery, departmental store buying something or the other ranging from chikis to toffees (I take the credit for this) and the finally ending the mission with bananas. The amount that we spend on our various edible desires is so much that if ever a calculation was made we would have equaled the amount consumed and spent by any African, hungry nation on food.

Look this blog also works as a complete guide for the people who might shift into this suburban area of Bangalore. So go ahead and polish your vocabulary, might be useful in messes all over south India.

Ask for "Full tea"- most likely the shopkeeper would give you frootie. Did you even know that there was something called the full tea and half tea?? ..

Strepsils- The pharmacist might just naughtily grin at you and secretly slip a pack of condoms into your hands.

Ever heard of half egg puff, full egg puff...

Ok! This thing makes me go into peels of laughter, "Dil-Pasand". Triangular shaped bread stuffed with cherries, jam and some sweet coconut gratings. I guess some excited malu who loved cherries and had a burning desire to be loved by people must have coined this name.

Motta-Veech- this one is tricky it’s a Tamil phrase for a chapatti which has an omelet stuck to one of its sides.

Kalakki- this one is hard to explain, a half cooked omelet and folded to look like small sac like structure. Real tasty stuff.

Half Boiled- not exactly a boiled egg but a bull’s eye is refereed to as half boiled in these messes. It’s universal and not a mistake here.

Barrotta- Nothing close to parathaas but a pan cake made out of something quite different from wheat.

1/2 - Lime juice. One lime juice is poured into 2 glasses, perfect quantity for the couple that believes in more talk and eats less.

Kuska- Briyani flavored rice but no meat pieces. You can call it the poor man's briyani.

Snoring habits- Hai tauba .. !!!

Everything has been perfectly normal since my last post. Syl is trying to sharpen her skills in crossing roads without her spectacles and I would say she is doing quite an enviable and independent job :) only that a car zips past her inches away and it misses her eyes :). Syl you need to look across on either sides of the road and not dawdle away in your own thoughts, even better would be wearing spectacles :). Pri is still giving me fashion advice as to what I should be wearing on a wedding. I guess I am in safe hands, finally ; cant trust my room mates who have more killer suggestions of dressing me for a Halloween party rather than a traditional Punjabi wedding. M and me speak a few times a year, once on her b'day and once on my b’day, that practically makes it twice a year and VD is still surprising me with her revealing-myself kind of habit. She landed up from Canada last week and gave me a call on a night when I was so insanely bored that I was on the verge of terming that night as one of my worst, sleepless nights. I had fired messages to every friend of mine, in every part of the world but not to VD and it so happens that she rescued me. There is something about this sweet, late night, how-have-you-been, long-time-no-see, calls; they are bewitching. You don’t feel like hanging up and the moment you do, you are already asleep with a big grin on your face. By the by women are gifted with this uncanny quality of softening you up even when they would have been downright cruel to you and would have given your souvenir to someone else. Yes, VD bewitchingly confesses that she donated my Canadian souvenir to someone. VD, you ain’t getting a hug when u meet me... :-/

So where is the complaining part of the blog? There is suppose to be one isn't it especially with me its hard not to find a part of the post that is tumultuous in its own way. I mean me not cribbing on this blog is as unusual as finding yourself marooned on moon with a hot, bikini model sitting beside you. And the joy to know that no one would be around is somewhat comparable to the relief that I would get after cribbing on this space.

Life, unperturbed save a few nuclear explosions has never been in danger of being extinct completely. It’s been existent for million years now but out of all those stupid inventions that man has made like tissue papers and mosquito nets, I wonder why there has never been an instance when someone would have thought of making some apparatus to help people not to snore in the stillness of the night; some kind of clip that could clip both one's mouth and nose together or some kind of silencer that could be fitted into nose or mouth and directed towards the window for the by products to escape out. Here I am, typing away this post on my mobile while 2 of my room mates A and GA are snoring right beside me. I don't understand the nature of people who need a noisy fan, I am referring to you SH or populous street stacked with traffic emitting deafening horns to induce sleep (I am referring to you DP, I don’t even know if she remembers this one time conversation that she had with me), I need absolute silence when I sleep, no ragging fans or blinding lights, please. I tried to cover GA's face with a bed sheet and placed a pillow on A's face, now they started to emit a bass sound wave together which somehow resonates and could easily be mistaken for a mobile vibrating. I brought back my thoughts to messaging people and I wonder why people especially females never reply to your messages. I am concentrating on these bad messaging habits and I am just left with one thought, if a person does not reply back or smses back I am sure she is not interested in knowing you, isn't it simple. So, with this in mind I have decided not to message such people and message only those who message me regularly or care to reply to my messages.

And so I tried reading and now was left wondering if we are back in the seventies when the inflation remained perpetually high, when countries like India and China considered their population as a massive negative point. I thought cheap labor from India and China solved this problem but I guess I was wrong. A few journals say that these were long impending risks of the fed cuts done in US. Each time there was a Fed cut foreign investors pumped in more money into the growing economies like India, China and Brazil but shouldn't the global slow down neutralize it all. Mr. Bush says that the inflation of food prices is because of food shortage. India's middle class makes up for the whole population of US and the increase in salaries of this middle class would also affect the demand for food and that’s left the prices soaring high. Again these causes are not permanent; most of the countries have their economies liberalized and interests rates aligned to that of US or any other strong economy and therefore its tough to find the causes of these issues unlike the cause of my insomnia for which I have found a cure and that’s reading, I am feeling as sleepy as ever. Reading does make one sleepy and before I crash a big thank you to all of them who commented on my last blog; mistakes do happen, Rajanikanth always looses mind in front of reporters and Harbajan always get involved in controversies for his blunders on the field. I too interchanged a few surnames in my last blog don’t know whom I was thinking about Lara Dutta or Priyanka Chopra. Kya farakh paenda hai, teh dono hi soni punjabhi kudiya hain aur mainu bahut pyaar kar di ya …!! :)

On the I pod: One headlight (The Wallflowers).... next on the juke box- Tere naal nachna :)

Of pot bellies, IT and maa ke ladoos..

Yes, I sympathize with the policemen not because they spend long hours on road regulating traffic but because they have pot bellies! And yes, I do know the state of mind of the women who die for their husbands to lie about their weight each time they glance in the mirror and ask “Aji, main moti toh nahi dik rahi na?” Yes, this is me and ironically I have changed and wouldn’t mind to take a woman of Tuntun’s size for my wife. Er.. OK ! …Thoda zyada hi emotional ho gaya. I owe this change in me to the non-exercising attitude of mine that has resulted in me developing a nasty belly and now I feel like endorsing things like chubby checker and sugar free stuff. :) It’s hard to believe how a person who used to train for 3 hours a day can grow fat but that’s the way it is, IT lifestyle does spoil ones habits.

Not many people read this blog and to the few (the number is 2-3) who by mistake stumble upon this place thinking that there might have been some change in my writing style for a change I would have started injecting sense into this blog, I assure you I am back and with more nonsense. So that practically makes no readers for the second leg of my writings. I wish I had been a woman blogger, would have had a comment even before the thought of posting stuff conceived and materialized into a post. Yes, out of the few woman bloggers that I know each gets a huge chunk of comments on every post of theirs. I ain't raising questions about the content but then I am suspecting that people do not like disorganized thoughts like the ones you find on my blog. No one wants to know the similarities between 2 pastimes like women and cricket that occupy an immature mind of mine nor does any one want to know what happens when your life turns and swirls to make sense. I guess this has been my longest stint away from the blog and I have forgotten about the IPL cheer girls completely. But here I am back and I am not a bit worried of writing about Priyanka Chopra's ,Lara Dutta’s reviving passion in me and petty things that go unnoticed by many or my uncanny habit of cribbing about things that sound utterly useless to the people around me.

So last week my mom called, nothing unusual in a mom calling her only son who stays away from her but the reason she called me was so silly that I am sure she would have put all the project managers in Infosys to shame(considering half of them do silly stuff all through the day).
She said:
Ma: Haan, kya kara raha tha, naashta??
Me: Haanji , bass aapk ko hi phone karne wala tha..
Ma: Tu sochata hi reh karna math (annoyed that I don’t call her)... acha sun tu aa raha hain iss weekend?
Me: Nahii, kyu (wondering if mom would mind that answer and would deduce that I come down to Chennai only when I have work there :))
Ma: Kya museebat hain yar . yeh Nirula wale uncle ne 2 kilo ladoo de diye aab yeh kaun khaye ga . !!
So my mom wants the very presence of mine in Chennai to eat ladoos. Aab ladke ki sithithi (position, for the ones whose Hindi is no better than Katrina Kaif's)... badi romanchak (nothing to do with romance) hain. Dekna yeh hain ki ladka weekned pe Ms Dutta (Priyanka is her first name for the Bollywood illiterates) aur Ms Kaif (Katrina is her first name for the ones uninitiated on the fashion front) ke sath enjoy karega ya Chennai aapni maa ke ladoo ke liye ja ye ga? Jaane ke liye dekhiye dharawaeek (Serial) Maan ka laddo ya maa ka ladoo. :)

I have been so busy in the past few weeks that I would have smiled less than a jovial Manmohan Singh (I swear this one Prime Minister of ours smiles the least). The situation (sithithi for English illiterates) remains grim, I am still getting a lot of work and life is hectic forever but I do read the newspapers sometimes and I do also know that the US elections are over and we still see the Federal bank of US bailing out banks. Here in Infy, things have changed, they have implemented cost cutting to the extent of putting the elevator fan off. And somehow I feel the whole IT world is a big illusion. There are people around me who might be earning more than my dad's gross income; mind you, My dad worked 15* 7 hrs and 365 days a year and the analysts here excel in resizing columns of a spreadsheet and fill stupid trackers for which the get paid anything around 60-70k pm. The weekends are spent lavishly at a certain restaurant that charges bizarre rates for the food ordered but do they mind? NO. I wonder why there is so much inequality in salaries. And if they say that the amount of hard work that you do directly translates to the amount of money you earn then I guess a software professional should be getting peanuts. And if one says that the amount of salary one earns is directly proportional to amount of brains and discerning sense that one puts into his work then again software professionals should be getting peanuts. However though there are a few brilliant people in every project because of whom Infy mints money still these are outnumbered by a huge herd that is still mediocre and does nothing but gets overjoyed at the prospects of a weekend approaching and wishes each weekend in a colorful way. The work that we do here is no rocket science. We monitor, maintain and test systems (IT jargon to make sound everything professional) in almost every project in Infy. In short we nurse a wound and take care of the patient and when he's alright he pays regular visits for medical check up, creating babies, cloning and producing new life is not our work at least for not most of us and we don’t need strength of 100 thousand to do all this. Sadly, I am in the thick of this action.

We software professionals have had life easy, very easy I say, including me. All this makes me wonder if this situation will stay forever there are so many things defying our IT industry and that I am pretty sure and pragmatic when I say there is something really wrong with the system. There are onsite returned people who bring back home dollars and love to spend it in posh hotels. I struggled literally to get money from my dad for books, sports and school, college treats but today is a different day and we have treats and parties every fortnight spending insane amounts at these certain westernized joints. You may call it globalization or consumerism but then this shift is one sided yet having a profound effect across various classes of societies resulting in a wider gap between the haves and the have nots. Infy started to cut costs and started giving reasons as budget problems when it was time to hike salaries even as it grew at the rate of 40-50% YoY. There are very less companies in the world today which grow by that proportion. Are the IT companies in India accustomed to such huge profits and don’t want to let go of the profitable growth. Well, no body would like their profits to come down and it would be stupid for IT companies to do this but the system has always been wrong from the beginning. The salaries, the billing, the costs, the expenses et all. It’s a revolutionary situation for the IT companies in India and how well we manage would answer questions about its continuity else like every other boom and bust we shall see another one; a part of which we have already seen, companies reaching their saturation level in terms of resources and now cutting costs by sizing the work force. The concept of ramping up more than required resources for a simple assignment and then billing the client for the same is no longer going to be existent. Infy now talks about liner growth which means less number of people and more productivity.

A few of us should be thankful to the IT boom in India, people like me would have never landed up with jobs holding just a bachelors degree as a fresher and here I am earning 15k pm . However a few of us should also realize that bizarre salaries do not mean mindless spending and with that thought of mine I shall set the argument in me to rest. Good night.

IPL Ka Boom aur Cheer girls bhi saath..

Flash Back.....
Me (A 5 yr old me & excited): Papa papa.. aaj stadium le chalo na ..cricket match dekne .. Dad (drowned in his account books & frowning) least bothered that his son trying to make the most innocent, sympathy gaining, lower lip out face and without lifting up his head would say "hoon ... chalte hain . chalte hain ...” with no intention of budging from his place.
Me: “Papaaaaaaa” (a shout that would rattle the neighbors and make the newly borns soil their undies).. “le chalo na .. !!!!!!!!!!”
Mom (Jhansi ki Rani, used to break in from kitchen with a belan( sword replaced by belan) in hand) : “Le jao na bacho ko .. dekho kitni der se ro raha hain”
Papa (Now irritated by the disturbance papa would say):- "Kya Vandu tum bhi , jaanthi ho kitni bheed ho gi wah ? ..kaha le jao ka inko ( me and my sis) main .. ticket bhi mehenji ho gi .. Mohit, samjha kar beta .. jitna maza TV par milta hain match dekne ka utna kahi nahi milega .. Dono bheth ke dekhe ge acha ..!!!” Me Still not convinced and would cry the whole day until the match would start and it really dawned upon me that there is no possible way of budging my dad to the playground. A ritual that used to break in our house everytime I had some freind of mine making it to the stadium to watch the match leaving an envous me pestering my parents.

We said: "hi, how ya, phone no.. please, Ok TC, ba bye( all in fake US accent)

Present Realization....

Dad was always right. I went to watch the IPL match played between Bangalore RC and Mumbai Indians. Well, both the teams were already out of the tourney and the match was as useless as the presence of Katrina Kaif for the matches of Royal Challengers played or for that reason it was as useless as the presence of cheer girls for cheering. I mean I am sure that the few sixes that Rahul Dravid hit out of desperation had nothing to do with the cheer girls specially imported from some unknown football ground but I am sure they at least raised the morale of young lads like us. I mean they got a better welcome from the stands than our own pop singers or should I say young guys were so crazy about these cheer girls that if there wasn't a fence between the ground and the stands I am sure a lot of us would have been chasing these girls all over the ground. However these girls were a little adulated and were thinking they have a huge fan following in India. I guess some one should tell them that most of us in India haven't seen a girl wearing shorts as short as nothing. :) and the concept of cheer girls never existed along side with bar girls in India. How could you expect an average Indian male not to tear his eye balls, drool and make a sigh when he sees a cheer girl! We have ample number of photos of them .I mean of the people drooling over them from stands. ;) The atmosphere was electrifying and I also came to know what a Mexican wave is. It’s a huge wave of people applauding from one stand and another set of people following the earlier ones from the adjacent stand and it goes on and on. Quite a spectacle in itself. I saw another spectacle of guys half my age using rancid remarks that made even the foreigners to blush and screw up their faces. For some reason I feel that kids have interchanged the meaning of good and bad, dunno what is it like in the other cities of India. The initial excitement subsided soon and the way the RC played dampened my spirit. Truly, not an experience to be remembered forever. By the way the IPL has excited the economic nerves of my brain. Ponder upon this if Anil Ambani can raise 12,000 crores through an IPO in 3 days then why not Chennai Super Kings or Delhi Dare Devils. I mean these are companies in themselves and if they decide to go public then I am sure every cricket lover would love to invest. 10-15 yrs down the line I can imagine my son saying "papa papa aap Mumbai Indian ke share kyu nahi kharidhte.. Abhishek Nayaar form main hain." :) and an another new article would say Sachin steps down from the post of CEO of Tendulkar Group of Hotels, Mumbai. He said that he was growing old and wanted to spend watching the matches at the most acclaimed stadiums of the world. God knows when Dhanraj Pillay and Baichung Bhutia would become industrialist. ;) quite an irony and economic gap.

Ok kids now describe VD in detail!!!

I am one of those who might just open fire in a crowded street, blow the smoke of my gun in style and walk down the street unbothered while the whole world runs for safety. I am one of those who would run a sports car on three, stop with only slamming of brakes, get down to see if the metallic paint has developed a scratch but then when it comes to letting go good friends in my life, I become as mushy and soft as those huge teddy bears lined up on the rack of any Archie’s store. I become as emotional as a newly crowned Miss World when I come to know that a good friend of mine is parting ways with me. Jo bhi ho, the child like feeling is indispensable I feel like throwing my arms and legs up in the air and cry like a kid who has been forced out of the bed just because he hasn't peed before he went to the bed. I feel like the kid whose favorite toy has been snatched just because he has a lot of math homework to complete. I feel like the kid who wants to still cuddle up under the arms of its mother and feel secure as ever. I know I do sound feminish or should I say kiddish but then that’s the way it is. A few losses in life can render you feeling all soft inside like the wet sand which when stepped upon leaves a big foot mark. Now don't you call me a kid because I am a mature adult as I have a demat account of my own. I have invested in the booming Indian Share market and I wear a black tie and leather shoes to work every day.

I guess I have spoken enough about myself now for this friend of mine whose pseudo name I cannot decide upon. I have options 1) Garfield (Courtesy SYL ;)) 2) Matilda 3) VD. I guess the last one seems to the best because it sounds closer to this friend of mine. People say that old friends are always replaced by new ones but I firmly believe that this is so not possible in life. Each friend of mine has been special and unique and they are so not replaceable. I could never replace my dad nor can I replace any friend of mine. I share a special bond with each one of them and especially if a friend of yours has a smile that makes you feel good and happy about things then it’s just worth remembering her.

Now VD turns out to be a female friend of mine whom I have known for more than a year now and it so happens that she has the best smile around. Oh yes she smiles like a cartoon of the first order and would easily land up with a job of bugs bunny on Cartoon network if she had to replace one. Over this one year that I have know her I have developed a very animated bond with her and in lieu of that I guess VD, you an me need to exchange a few love notes as well :P

--First one for the food-I am goanna miss you and your cubicle a lot. My last message to you on your whiteboard still remains there. I am going to miss the muffins that you bought me. I can still smell them (guess I would have been a dog, last birth). I mean the taste still lingers in my mouth and I need more :(

--Whom will I bet with in Fidelity :( BTW don't you owe me a lunch??? :) For loosing the bet. I know you'll snap back saying I promised you a lunch date for which you invited yourself but then do you remember something I am a poor man and you owe me something. Now let me make this as formal and as polite as possible. VD, correct me if I am wrong and spank me if I am lying. Did you give back 350 bucks that you owe me??? ;) buy me a lunch instead :) On second thoughts I guess I can still sponsor that meal for ya because anyway in the end it will be me whom you'll offer to finish it off.

--On whose cubicle wall will I slide my chin and make an entry so stealthy :(. I will miss your bottle and not to forget your phone. You need to give me something of yours before you leave fidelity (how about the phone?? :)) and don't you change the personalized settings that I have done on your phone! It’s for to remind you of me every time and call me at the press of a button. A symbolic way of saying. I am just a call away when you need me provided my number does not change.

--You know how much I love to teach what I know; I guess it’s too late for it. I'll never be able to teach you the strumming patterns for the chords that I learnt :( BTW... Weren’t you going to donate for the "new guitar" fund of mine ;) and yes I still have your plectrum which you gave it to me when I first started learning the guitar :). Tera Ashirwaad mere saath hain VD!

--I'll miss discussing my favourite songs on the radio because there won’t be any one to know them or guess them as you do. Radio city, I’ll never listen to this after you’ve gone and what about those funny, wacky, naughty messages that we used to compose with the song dedications every other night and what about the old hits that I used to dedicate to you every other day when you dressed like some old bollywood character of the 70's and 80's. I know SYL is still there as a scape goat for all these but it’s not the same. :(

-- And you know you promised me an outing in Bangalore too!! Me, you and SYL. And what about the resume format that you promised you'll send and that article that I have cut out for you from the news paper and VD have you heard of the band "Five for fighting". And what about the CD that I promised I'll give and and and and... Oh there are just too many things that I wanted to tell you but now I jus feel like a sad Calvin sitting lonely just because Hobbes hadn't informed him before leaving. I am never goanna send those comic strips to u.:-/

But I guess you just got to get on with your future prospects and show the world the sensible and adorable soul you are. I wish you all the best and pray that you get to meet all those South Indian cute guys that you always wanted to meet. The Rajanaickams (bobby darlings), Palini Swamis and Kandaswamies. :) Since u wanted to marry a south India. :) I wish so many of them that you find it tough to decide upon one of them. BTW do you know I talk Tamil too... ;) I wish that your passions for flying objects comes true and you get to fly to new lands, undiscovered places and the road less traveled. I pray for a lot of adventurous, joyful outings in future for you and hope you u enjoy each one of them.

And I am telling you better keep in touch with me else you’ll miss my good night hugs and the roar of this lion :) (Croak!) – That was to neutralize my egoistic forgetfulness of my own modesty.

Oops I don’t have a photo of yours too :( . That’s perfectly ok I guess I ll upload some comic characters' face with this blog to impersonate you. :D

Juke Box: When I see you smile- by Bad English (This one’s for you VD).