sharadsrinivasan

[sharadsrinivasan]

Lazy atheism

Religion is a tinderbox that catches fire at the slightest provocation. I have a feeling that once we succeed in destroying the planet and a few survive to grow and develop, the phone AI assistants that we have today would be considered religious figures and will have their own following. The religion of Siri, the religion of Cortana, of Alexa, of Google… we will still find ways to fight each other and destroy each other.

Again and again, till the planet is tired of us and decides to wash us off its surface.

not that apple fanboys already consider themselves a religion though, in reality, they are a cult... ;) 

[sharadsrinivasan]

So be it.

The South East Asian subcontinent has a very varied and poignant history. A good part of this history is closely intertwined with the mythologies and cultures from ancient times to recent days. A good many unique languages and dialects developed, some which were the tool for recording these histories for the future generations.

Salvation was one of the many tenets of the multitude of schools of though that originated from this subcontinent and the many routes to salvation were written down as prose and poetry, and stories and events for the others to read, enjoy, and understand. A common idea during these ancient times was severe austerity, penance, and renunciation of worldly desires, the goal being to obtain the state of eternal bliss or to become one with the atman. A distinct sect of people obeyed these instructions and lived their lives in the harsh forests with no cerature comforts.

Deep in the forests where the tigers roamed free, where the crocodiles basked by the streams, and the pythons coiled on the trees, outside his simple hut sat Sage Ringa. Sage Ringa longed for absolution, a release from the world and eternal bliss. As Sage Ringa sat and meditated upon himself, and upon the universe, a big shadow fell upon him. The sage did not notice this, for he was deep in deliberation with the soul, the energy that he would one day turn into, but that road was long, and difficult, and severe, and many a man who had ventured onto that road had never made it far.

Sage Ringa was no ordinary man, he had renounced his worldly pleasures and creature comforts when he was twelve, he had attained knowledge of salvation when he left his teens and many a learned man came to Sage Ringa for his wisdom, but alas, the path to salvation showed no mercy, it showed no consideration for his merits.

Often times, the stories of these austere spiritual giants spread far and wide, and many came to them in search of knowledge, many came to them to become disciples, many came to them to serve the greatness by serving them, and then there were some who came to them to destroy their penances. To obliterate the years of hard work and the mental strength gained by decades of abstinence and sacrifice.

The huge shadow inched closer to the great Sage, but he sat motionless, he was oblivious to it. It was a bear and it was foraging for food, and the Sage would make a good meal. The bear thought of nothing else than its hunger, and the Sage thought of nothing. Suddenly there were screams and shrieks from the thickets nearby and out burst a group of youths carrying sticks and stones. The bear ran away for fear of its life was greater than the fear of staying hungry. The commotion did nothing to stir the sage out of his trance state.

Some of the youths were his pupils and some were the sons of farmers from the villages outside the forest. They stayed around the Sage’s hut to serve him and to help him when needed in return for his knowledge. Often times the Sage would meditate for days together as the youths stayed on guard to protect him if the need arose. When the Sage would break his trance he would know of nothing that transpired and would go about his day to day life as usual.

Boma was a bright young youth and he had approached the Sage in a simple and pious manner in winter many years ago. Ringa had been in meditation at that time and had not noticed the young lad shivering in front of him for many days. When finally he broke out of his trance, he noticed Boma and asked him is purpose, Boma replied that he was seeking knowledge and had heard of the Sage and his thirst for eternal bliss. The sage had taken him on as his pupil and Boma had continued serving and learning from the sage.

The pupils sat in obedience around the master who was still in trance and began revising their scriptures, it was soon to be evening and the sons of the farmers were wither retiring or walking back to their homes on the edge of the forest. Boma mused silently as he recalled some heated debates he had had with his teacher at times when he could not fathom a certain verse but with his limited understanding had questioned the Sage about it. The droning hum of the students was disturbed by the sound of anklets, not the kind of anklets they had ever heard, to them it sounded like little bells as they had heard when the farmer sons brought the cows to graze. It sounded like many little bells clanking and chiming together and the sound seemed sweet.

They looked in awe as a damsel presented herself in skimpy clothing, decked in jewelry and presenting a picture of lust. This was Rauncha. Rauncha was a courtesan and a celestial dancer who had broken many a will of many sages in many lands and was now here to break the severe austerities of Ringa. Ringa had imparted the knowledge to the students of the distractions faced by man, the methods to overcome them and to know how to eliminate the craving for material comforts.

A sweet music began to waft through the forest and Rauncha began to dance, moving her hips graciously to the music. The pupils who were supposed to protect the teacher when need be were all lost in her dance, mesmerized and unable to move. Boma too was momentarily distracted. He attempted to tell her off but was soon again lost in her lithe movements, her flexibility.

The whole troupe sat transfixed watching her dance and move except for Ringa who still continued to be in trance state. Rauncha noticed this and began to dance with more zeal, a feverish zeal, heaving and gyrating so that the air was filled with pheromones and her scent, the students still spellbound by the new found experience.

She neared the Sage with every passing minute dancing and enticing, enticing and dancing till the students began to chime in, clapping hands to the tune and singing along, some even made poor attempts of dancing themselves as Rauncha laughed at them, a raunchy laugh and picked on them for their clumsy movements, all without missing a beat.

Soon her movements became very provocative and she was in much closer proximity to the Sage than anyone in the vicinity had ever been. Her movement was very akin to the modern art form of twerking and it was right up in the Sage’s face, a few inches away from his nose. This cacophony brought on by the alluring Rauncha and the enamored students soon broke the Sage’s trance and he opened his eyes to the sight that no pious man would have to bear, his many decades of austerity, abstinence, and sacrifice and all his brownie points in trances and meditation, all seem to be wiped out in a flash. He saw Rauncha gyrating her hips in front of him and for a fleeting moment, the Sage in him was gone.

Years of self-control not to be undone, he calmed himself by was beside himself with rage and his failed penance. He glared at the egregious collection before him and his booming voice thundered, “Away with all of you before I curse you all”. The celestial dancer, once again looking demure in an instant, smiled coyly at the Sage and melted into the foliage of the forest. The students covered before him in fear, some attempting to run away while some bowed in complete submission. “Go away all of you”, repeated the sage, “I have no need for imbeciles who have no concept of knowledge and dance around with lust in their eyes and an animal like hunger in their bodies”.

They ran helter-skelter, some ran towards the river, some ran towards the village and among all these stood Boma, head bowed in obedience and shame emanating from his presence.

“I did not expect this from you Boma”

Boma did not answer, he stood there, and tears began to flow from his eyes. “Answer me Boma, what possessed you to partake in this obscenity?”

“Dear Master, I do not know what came over me, I do wish to say that I tried to tell her off, but I couldn’t convince myself to do it, I am truly ashamed and I am not worthy of your glance. I shall take your leave immediately and spend the rest of my life attempting to cleanse the dirt that has washed on my soul.”

“My dear Boma, I understand that you are young and that yu were easeily enticed, but is this not why I trained you these many years? To overcome this desire of nature and man and to transcend into the universe?”

Boma remained silent.

Ringa continued, “You are right about the dirt on the soul Boma, and you will have to leave, but I appreciate your honesty and you make ask me one question if you so desire, it shall be my parting gift to enhance your knowledge”

Boma was flabbergasted, the Sage, the all-powerful sage would permit him to ask a question? The desire and thirst for knowledge was kindled once again in Boma and he quivered at the thought of the question he would ask the Sage.

Ringa saw the confusion in the young lad, he understood that Boma was hesitating, “Go on Boma, and speak your mind, this once, for it may be the last we ever speak.”

Boma still did not reply, he was now trembling with the fear of what his question might entail, would it lead him to the riches of the world, or to the riches of the soul? Where would he be once he had asked the question, what would the Sage reply?

Ringa mused at the trembling Boma, “I command you Boma, ask your mind”

“Master, I have but one question that encompasses all the doubts I have in my heart, yet I am not sure if it would right to ask, and since you have commanded me, I obey. My question O great Sage, is that when you broke your trance and opened your eyes, your gaze fell upon the celestial dancer, and I saw you O great one as your resolve crumbled in your eyes, for a moment you were very much the animal that you had vowed not to be, the same greed and avarice that I had seen emanating from my friends and fellow students was the same that emanated from you. How can I, a mere failed student attempt achieving salvation when you, O great of greats, let down your guard and your resolve for the female form?”

Ringa was speechless, he had not expected anyone to have noticed him in the great degeneration that had played out in front of his hut, and yet, this boy had noticed it. Ringa took a deep breath and said ,”It is true Boma, I failed, I was not the great teacher I should have been, I did not have the control in me, I had lost sight of the great soul in me when I had opened my eyes, but… “

“…but, my Great Lord?”

Ringa smiled and said,”thathasthu.”

[sharadsrinivasan]

God has given you a machine

Occasionally I rant about stuff that I find funny or I write funny stuff about people, but more often than not, I come across funny stuff that directly involves me, and I am not a big fan of facilitating jokes about myself, but this one is too good to pass up.

Drum roll.

And now, for a change, a bit of self-depreciating humor!

First off, to get things on record, I do not have a girlfriend. This is purely due to lack of trying and some severe incompetence on the part of three friends of mine. You guys were given one job to do. It’s been years now. Not cool.

Second, I am not gay (not that there is anything wrong with that). I just don’t swing that waaaay.

So, now that we have cleared up the air on that subject, quite a few people at the place I work, wonder why I prefer to be single. Okay, that was my opinion on their opinion. I frankly believe that they wonder why I am single. My preferences are of no consequence to them.

Getting to the point of this post, there is a lady. A lively lady who doesn’t beat around the bush. She says things as it is and it turns out awesome almost every single time. What follows is a torrid recreation of an event one day that left me laughing at myself.

We shall refer to her as Mrs. Cable. This is just so that it is easier instead of coming up with a set of pronouns every time she is mentioned in the story. And she is mentioned a lot.

 Cool day, moderate work, I’m bent over my laptop, keys clacking away, eyes flitting from screen to screen, I have three screens, not because I need them, but it just makes things look awesome, also when I drag a window from one screen to another, it makes people thing I did magic. Massages my ego.  So here I am clacking away at the keys, probably trying to create a data model that will do something blah blah some blah blah and so on and blah. Door bangs and Mrs Cable walks in, she appears to be in a hurry.

“Hey, where is that wire thingy you gave me last time to charge my phone, I want that” I give her the cable and smile and continue clacking away.

“What is he so busy on, it is almost holidays, there isn’t anything to do”, now she was talking to my manager, who nodded and said, “It’s something useful I hope”

What began next were the most facetious few minutes of my adult life, till that point in time.

“You know, there is something wrong with him, I was here last week, well after work hours and asked him what he was doing still at work and his response was he was working on something and that as long as he had internet he would not mind living in a cave” now, that part is true, as long as I have internet, I can in theory live in a cave as long as the food delivery guy can find which cave it is and not mess up my order.

“Why don’t you go find yourself a girlfriend? Or do you think living in a cave with internet is good enough alternate to a girlfriend?” I know how this sounds but at this time, I am not going to interrupt her monologue with my explanations for each of her statements as it just kills the element of funny in it. And there was another coworker in the room, let’s call him J

“You know, you should have someone in your life, not something, and that someone should have something. God has given you a machine, you go through your life without using that machine and when you die, you go stand in front of god, and he is going to ask you, did you use your machine? No? Why did you not use your machine? And what are you going to tell him? I was on the internet in a cave? He is going to send you right back here for not using your machine. J, you have a machine, you use your machine, and you should teach this guy how to use his machine. Learn from J, he is very good with the machine and he has many girlfriends.”

“Do you like boys, is that why you are not using your machine?”

 Thankfully, at this point the brutal onslaught was interrupted by the door and she recalled that she had been in a hurry when she had come for the charger and she left.

So now, thankfully, I can justify my views on the various points referred in this story. Living with internet in a cave doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Surely beats the idea of living in a cave without internet. I believe that god should not be concerned much about if and how I sue my machine, or not. It sounds very peeping tommish if he is going to keep track of my machine’s usage. Boys liking boys doesn’t necessarily mean they wouldn’t be using their machines, I guess Mrs. Cable is not clear on that fact.

Anyway, if you were actually in the room at the time this transpired, I am sure you would be holding onto your painful sides remember how funny the whole thing was (if I ever share this link with my friends at work which I am never going to), and in case you weren’t there, I’m sorry but you missed it.

It was funny.

[sharadsrinivasan]

do you know who i am?

in case you didn't know, I do have another blog and I post there occasionally. depending on how well you know me, you can check out that blog.

[sharadsrinivasan]

Eeyore on a swing

There is certain charm to a place. This place on the coast. The coast with the second longest beach in the world. A dirty place. A corrupt place. A proud place. In a way, my own place. This place has a pulse, it has a warmth and a wrath, it has cold inviting vibes and warm goodbyes, it is a mix of everything good and bad and it is a beautiful place.

This place has always been a pride. A reason without one to pick a fight with our fellow northern friends and to crow them over. This place has always been a sense of comfort, the familiarity it exudes, the responsibilities it eludes.

Seriously, being far older than many modern countries it has still shirked responsibility to grow and develop and come into its own. I am possibly a reason. One among the millions who forgets when one hasn’t the luxury to. One among the countless who doesn’t speak up when it is required to. One among the many who hasn’t a care to what happens to this place, but one who clumps with many other like-minded individuals to sit and complain about how nothing good happens to it.

I guess it is my right. This is my place after all. I get to do with it what I like. Being here, far away from my place, now almost over a year, planning a visit, why does this place feel so distant?

Have I changed? Has the place changed? The longer I think about it, the more perplexing it seems. Our minds have the capacity to complicate utterly trivial things, but that is a discussion of its own for another day. The quaint little slumbering giant of a city, with its multitude of creeks and crevices and its beautiful and sullied canals. A proud lineage which still depends on its twilight pride to suffice for its present shortcomings. What is different?

The place is the same, and it will remain the same. It will remain the same because the people will not change. I will not change, and like me, no one else will change. This place is indifferent to me and I am blasé to it indifference. It is almost inexplicable why I think so much about something that I seem so uncommitted to.

It is the place, the place has its charm, but the charm lives on the memories that were instrumental to creating the charm. Feels like a catch-22, but so are many things which we cannot explain, so we explain them with them. Cycling down the side streets with friends, saving money to spend on tapioca chips, breaking faces wicket-keeping and swinging on school doors, flying down flyover at breakneck speeds when cycles decide to shake hands, sitting in reverse on the carrier while jumping over drain covers, foot-boarding on trains oblivious to what might happen the next instant, sleeping off on the trains and missing train stops, buying unhealthy snacks at questionable shops, meeting after college for “studying”, spending the first paycheck you earned at an over-your-head restaurant and then asking your friends to chip in, buying the first bike with dad’s money and then claiming that it was your own, actually buying your first bike but being unable to claim because you already did it, ganging up at a friend’s brother, second cousin’s third uncle’s daughter’s wedding to hog on the biriyani, driving through crazy rain and floods just because you had a hankering to watch a movie at a crappy theater in the middle of god-knows-where, trying to catch a GPS signal at the intersection when the compass in your phone gets confused as to what is north. These are just a few memories that breathed charm into this place.

Memories are all we have after a stage in life. Our friends are far away, bridges crumble by disuse too. The place, this place hasn’t changed. We haven’t changed. It is but an empty shell on a beautiful pedestal. It may look fun, but is it?

Now it feels like a humid bajji served in an old newspaper on the beach, but, without the chilly …

Oh Bother!

                                             Eeyore on a swing…

[sharadsrinivasan]

Good times

More often than not, the best memories that shape us aren't with the ones we love, or the ones that love us, it is with our friends... miss you all...

[sharadsrinivasan]

OOOhhh... another rant.. yay!

/s

[sharadsrinivasan]

The Milkman Episode

Not so long ago in a place not so far away lived Sir Snoresalot. As with the high and mighty of ye old days, was he high and mighty and as heady as an elephant on fermented berries. This is the tale of Sir Snoresalot and someone who may or may not be named, least I be deemed unworthy of my noggin.

Bored already? Ok, I’ll admit that was a bit excessive.

So, I’m from a place where weddings are a big thing. Relatives, friends, knowns, unknowns, everyone is invited. It is pretty much Oprah in her iconic dialogue “Everyone gets an invite”.

So, Sir Snoresalot decided to have a wedding. Now the people who know who this is about might already be giggling. So, to you people, stop. This isn’t a funny post.

Characters in this story:

Sir Author      The guy writing this nonsense, duh! Sir E.T.         He prefers a different moniker with an almost same meaning. A very close friend of Sir Author Sir Mudoms         Sorry man, couldn’t think of anything funny there. Another close friend of Sir Author. Lady Machine Gunner         Sir E.T.’s better half, I am not under any pressure to say this. Right guys..? guys??

These are the main characters and then there are the main characters’ parents, siblings, best enemy, worst friend etc. (not relevant for the moment)

6-Dhu al-Hijjah-1437 is a very important day in Sir E.T’s story and I wasn’t there. One of those phases in life where you plan something and it all becomes Donald Trump.

Soon after that day Sir Snoresalot started planning for his special day. A lot of planning.

And a lot of planning, and then there was some more. And then probably the plans were sent for approval and then reviews and re-plans and more plans and then he submitted all his final revised updated copies for the final decision.

Which I assume he took, or maybe it was meow, futisshhhhhh.

One fine day, fine so far, I received a message from Sir Snoresalot saying his wedding date was fixed and that I must be there since I am (?) a very close friend of his and that my presence was mandatory. (I don’t like repetitive redundant irony)

Minutes later another message from Sir E.T, saying cautious while you plan your journeys for the worlds are far and the dates are fickle. I asked Sir Snoresalot to reconfirm the date. I asked him thrice after which he was possibly irritated after which I planned the journey.

True to the word of Sir E.T., two days later I receive a message stating a change in date and to re-plan accordingly.

Sard!!

(Thanks to Melissa Mohr for that.)

I arrive at the location after countless verifications from Sir Snoresalot regarding every step of my journey, all the time remembering how irritated he got when I asked him a question thrice.

Brushed off.

A good day that was for the others and I enjoyed a meal so close to divinity there were no words to describe than muffled sounds.

The details of the wedding have been skipped.

At the reception, (yes, we are a weird people who receive people after the wedding) as it is customary to walk up to the Bride and Broom to congratulate them, we did the same. Lined up like school kids with our parents and siblings in tow and went on to the stage where the couple of the day were smiling away to glory. (no pun intended)

First up was Sir E.T and his parents, as he congratulated Snoresalot, he introduced or should I say re-introduced him to his Ringmaster as “he is my best friend, he is like a brother to me “. E.T.’s parents were up next and confusingly, as we had never seen this weird creepy side of him, he introduced them too and added, they are like my parents too, we are all as close as brothers.

Yeah right, tell that to my brother who wouldn’t think twice to strangle me in my sleep, or vice versa. Now that I think of it, maybe that is exactly what Snoresalot meant.

Next up was Sir Mudoms, same comments, as in ditto. Word for word. I am not trying to be a jerk here, but puhlease..! who are you trying to impress?

Yours truly up next also got the same dialogue, wasn’t happy but then it was his day, so I had to hold back from spewing whatever venom was bubbling at the base of my throat. A sneer managed to escape though and I guess that was my small victory.

Lots of giggles and smiles and photoshoots later we the weird knights noticed that we were the only people from the Broom’s side. As in he did not invite any friends. It was all the spouse crowd. What’s the deal with that? Please no emotional crap like we are the only people he knows.

Being whipped is a different thing, my first impression that evening, of the newly evolved Bulbasaur was, “My god, he’s roped, saddled, and gelded”.

(picture above is for the perverts who were probably picturing something else)

Fast forward two weeks later, everyone’s back to business. Here, E.T.’s got an update regarding the gift they had gotten Snoresalot, there was an updated model and they asked if they would like to take that.

How often does that happen? Like seriously? You need to run after people for an update, any kind, In a broad sense.

They did naturally what anyone would do, called up Snoresalot and asked him to come and pick up the updated model, and his first reaction was “Do I look like a milkman?”

Confusing?

Confused still?

Clearing up?

No?

Ok.. I’ll explain, apparently, the concept of a milkman is foreign to Sir Snoresalot.

He sleeps in, as in, IN. I haven’t seen a normal milkman do that, unless the milkman is delivering milk at night. Those cows must feel special.

A milkman brings stuff to a person, he isn’t asked to come collect stuff. When was the last time you asked your milkman to come collect milk?

You know what I meant.

Good talk on being brothers Sir Snoresalot, the pink dinosaur next to me thinks you have mental issues.

To some people being stupid might be a profession that have to grudgingly do, day in and day out…

… Some are just gifted.

Note: whoever noticed that I haven’t mentioned Lady Machine Gunner except for the introduction is smart. *tips hat*

[sharadsrinivasan]

The list of people I am soooo pissed off with!!!

Well. It’s you. Its almost everyone that I have come across at some point in my life that it might as well be you. Yeah. You. Whoever it is who is reading this now. So, what u going to do about it? Stop reading? Make this a big issue and think that I am a jerk? Go ahead. Do that. It just show how immature you are. I would personally suggest that you take a more refined, polished approach and send me a gift. A token of apology for pissing me off and I might reconsider what I think about you.

That didn’t sound so stupid in my head. Over the past couple days I have been pushed around a lot. I feel so. And what I feel is the only thing right about the world.

P.S. This has been in my starts for over a year and a half and still relevant today. Something’s wrong with me.

[sharadsrinivasan]

Vibrate!! Dammit, VIBRATE!!!!

Weird girl outside Asian Restaurant in a popular mall

[sharadsrinivasan]

is it love, or tolerance?

Hate is a strong word, I get it, it is not right to say that we hate someone, but then, so is love, it’s too strong a word to be thrown around as much as it is being done.

My take on love and hate or rather my opinion of those crazy chemical imbalances is currently very simple and it does surely explain a lot of nonsense that we tend to confuse with our itsy bitsy “feelings”.

Humans are born neutral, we neither hate nor love anyone, it is familiarity that makes us like a person, and familiarity also makes us dislike a person. nowadays i am pretty sure that love is nothing but a high level of tolerance towards a person, the more we tolerate them, the more we love them, and the less we tolerate them, there you go, we hate them.

familiarity and tolerance are somewhat a very flimsy couple. *sigh* physics would probably hang itself after this wonderfully weird and sleep fueled explanation.

anyway, here goes :

Familiarity => F

Tolerance => T

c => behavioral constant, where 0 > c >= - ∞ and 0 < c <= ∞

Note: c approaches 0 but is never equal to zero, the reason for this is once a person meets another for the first time, the value of c changes from 0, it never again returns to zero after this point, so for the sake of simplicity we equate it to non zero values.

F  ∝ c(T)  Ɐ   0 < c <= ∞

F  ∝ c/T  Ɐ   0 > c >= - ∞

A person’s behavior affects and effects everyone the person is in contact with and accordingly keeps shuffling the value of c depending upon the activity, a pleasant activity on the part of the person behaving would lead to positive values of c in the mind of the person affected, and a negative value would stem from a not-so-pleasant activity.

This being said, now lets take it up a notch and determine what makes tolerance possible when the activity is not so pleasant, probably another couple days of staying up at night would help me figure that out...

[sharadsrinivasan]

in the end, we are all alone...

We, with our buddies, sitting in class, after school hours, making fun of teachers and classmates, buying cheap snacks at the petty shops on the railway platform with the saved up pocket money, spending long hours texting, sending SMSs with phones hidden under desks, getting pissed off for trivial nonsense, late night phone calls, hidden messages through movements of our eyeballs, flirting with best bud’s SO/friend/colleague, just to piss him/her off.

We miss doing all this, as do we all miss that person who shared our best and worst moments, but what do we do about it? 

[sharadsrinivasan]

00:46

It had been a long tiring day, and I was back in my room scrolling the infinite pages of the web.

Rain long due washing down intermittently but I don’t hear a sound in my room. The fan and the a/c are on at full blast.

Power cut. The room is plunged into darkness except for my cell phone display as it casts eerie shadows all over the room which dance around with every little movement of mine.

Worse than power cut is the loss of WiFi. Now I have nothing to do, frustrated, I toss my phone away from me as it continues lighting up the room in its own little way.

The display dims down a bit, indicating screen lock and then plunges the room into complete darkness. I can’t see anything past my nose which is itself nothing but a shadow.

I realise that I’m hearing nothing.

The darkness makes my brain throw my hearing into overdrive. Now begins the scary part… It’s not the silence, its the deafening sounds conjured up by my thoughts.

[sharadsrinivasan]

Whistle-blowing

whis·tle·blow·er

or

whistle blower

 (wĭs′əl-blō′ər, hwĭs′-)

n.

One who reveals wrongdoing within an organization to the public or to those in positions of authority: "The Pentagon's most famouswhistleblower is ... hoping to get another chance to search for government waste" (Washington Post).

whis′tle-blow′ing

n.

Some day in May, 2010. I guess there were six of us at the bike parking that day. The last exam of the semester and also the last day of four grueling years of college life.

Well, last day for almost everyone.

 The paper was ‘Ethics’, Professional Ethics, more importantly and unlike every normal exam, none of us were cramming in the stuff we were to throw up a few minutes later.

The topic turned to the detailed answers which could be asked in the exam. We began to discuss Taguchi, Maslow’s hierarchy, Juran’s principles, auditing processes, TQM (principles and pillars of management), even the documentation of ISO 9000:2000 processes.

And then someone mentioned it. It was an important question, could carry anywhere between 8 to16 marks, but that was not the point. The second it was mentioned, one person sniggered, stifled a laugh and then guffawed.

It spread like a prion. Within seconds everyone was thinking the same. No-one blatantly spoke about it, but everyone was thinking it.

Maslow and Juran to hell, this became the most important topic of discussion. 

Conditions necessary, heavy infusions of garlic, potatoes or any other high starch items.

Principles, the one who denies it is the cause of it, also the one who pretends that there is no difference has an even higher chance of causing it.

.....and that’s how we learnt whistle-blowing. The one topic in four years of college life that I can still write in an exam and pass.

The first bell rang and we all went to the respective exam halls, not sure if it was the discussion or the feeling of overconfidence of knowing the perfect answer, the minute I got the question paper, I flipped it and moved on to Part-B, and there it was, staring right back at me, Question 12, section b, part ii. Explain Whistle-blowing. For 8 marks. Jackpot!!

 Seems like it all happened in a long forgotten era. Ironically, it was one of the very few moments I cherish among those four grueling years.

[sharadsrinivasan]

The trip

Coming to think of the things that have transpired over the years, the only burger I remember eating with my friends from my school is the one from KFC. Yep, it’s exactly the KFC you are thinking. It is absolutely awful, and with each passing day, the standards drop down to our home-grown fast food eateries. I probably shouldn’t be too crass about this, but these fast food outlets do provide yummier food than what the Colonel so proudly claims.

Kendriya Vidyalayas al over the world have this wonderful tradition of putting the students in the new class before they break for the annual vacation. It’s true that every educational institution today has started aping this, but it was our school that was the forerunner. The final exams would be over, a small break would be announced for about a couple weeks and then the results would be announced and then, and then was the best part. We would get to go to our new classrooms and freak out. Well, till the teachers came of course, and then there would be classes, and all other activities for a month followed by the annual vacation. This way when we got back to school after the vacation, not everything felt new. We would be used to it, though the only thing that felt new was the feeling that you had to go to school for the first time in life. I wonder why that feeling never changed. Never. In twelve years of school and an additional four through college. Going back always felt new. As if it was happening for the first time.

It was in this one month of school, we had successfully completed ninth standard and moved on to tenth, of course, I’d had stern warning from my teachers to focus more on my studies, something that was not going to happen, and now as I sit back and wonder, it makes me think why. My whole life could have taken a different direction had I just focused that one year. At least, I like to believe it would have been so. As I was saying, it was in this one month that we had received a wonderful announcement. The central chain of command, the KV Sangathan had announced a trekking camp for students from eighth and higher. An opportunity of a lifetime I would say. A twenty day trip. Partially funded by the Sangathan and conducted in collaboration with the Directorate of Mountaineering and Allied Sports based out of Manali. It was initially unbelievable, a twenty day trip in the Himalayas was no cheap affair, and all we had to do was to pay a modest fee of INR450 and a consent letter.

Funnier still, getting the money was the easy part. Getting the consent letter, or getting parents to sign the consent letter could be compared to climbing Mt. Everest from the southern side.

continued..

[sharadsrinivasan]

WHat's In A diEt?

I have a friend. Well, actually, I have many friends, and even though I've known him since I was "yay tall" (read 5 years old?), it’s not until recently that we have been in contact. Guess am going to write about him today. 

So, what do I name him? I obviously would want him to know that I am writing this about him, but I don’t want anyone else to know who I am writing about. That’s a real puzzler. What do I name him......?

Abu! Tats sounds nice. Kind of like Aladdin’s Pet. Abu.

I got to know a lot about Abu in the past one year than the past 20 years of my life put together. Yep. I barely knew him or spoke to him, but always knew him to be the happy go lucky kind of person with a cheery face and happy mood, and then I started talking to him *internal laughter*.

He is a happy guy, cheery and all that I mentioned, but he’s a health freak. Health freak. Freak. *smirks*. Someone somehow seems to have planted a crazy notion in is head that he needs to lose weight and he’s pursues it day in and day out. I mean, for crying out loud, who counts calories when they live on vegetables!! (vegetables were food for neanderthals who were too chicken to hunt)

I personally prefer 'good' food(good has a certain significance). Life is about two things. Being happy and making people happy. Making people happy is a long shot. You could try all you want and still end up with them carving a pound of flesh from nearest to your heart (without spilling a drop of blood, of course). Being happy, on the other hand doesn’t need that much effort, for starters, if one is not hungry, he is obviously not crabby, and when one is not crabby, he is obviously happy. Ergo, key to happiness is good food.

I am 25 years old, though I am not sure about the math, I could be 26, and of late, I have begun to look like a hot pocket. Mmmm... Well, honestly, I wouldn’t be doing a hot pocket complete justice by calling myself one…

So, about Abu, he started dieting and doing crazy stuff about a year ago, maybe a little over a year to be exact, in order to tone down. The natural way of life specifically dictates that one should eat, and do whatever exercise that is barely enough to survive. The animal kingdom for instance, no one sees a pride of lions in skin tight leotards, bunched around a bunch of rocks, working out and showing off. Nope. They laze around 20 hours a day, lucky bums and in the remaining 4 hours, the guys send out the chicks to bring food, and yet, not even “The Rock” would dare stand before a well fed and sleepy lion on the best of his days. The reason? The lions follow Nature’s Law whereas we prefer to bend it to suit what the “society” deems fit.

I had a craving for a burger when I started writing this post. Are you reading Abu? When I started writing this post I wasn’t hungry, and yet still I pictured a burger, and then I needed to have one. So, I went to my usual burger joint. I ordered the appetizer. (Not that I needed one anyway) it was a simple order of chilly cheese fries. I believe that by now I am very well-known because the waiter there just walked up to me as I sat down and asked if I would like to have the chilly cheese fries while I zeroed in on my burger.

The chef seemed to be in a good mood. I know that because of the fries he served. Perfectly cut and well fried with the right amount of grated cheese and chili flakes. A couple minutes before I was served, I realised a familiar aroma fill the air, my first inclination was that my fries were ready and that I was going to get them soon, but, no, it wasn’t the fries. This was a familiar aroma yet it seemed so much out of place here.

Am getting out of topic here. I just want to say, don’t do crazy stuff. And don’t diet. Cos if u diet, I will be there with my description of juicy, yummy burgers to make u as angry as possible and to make u hate your diet!!!!!

 :P

  P.S. There is nothing “good” about a shrunken appetite. There has never been anything good, nor will there ever be one. “Good” means a Cheese Burst Three Cheese Crust Filled Pizza with a variety of Meats that feels like God smacking you right across the face with all his Love.

[sharadsrinivasan]

Silent Cry

It didn’t feel right. Most times it doesn’t. Standing in a garment shop whose name I didn’t pay attention to, watching my reflection at the far end of the shop. Through the many people that kept walking around the shop, I kept looking at my reflection.

I realize that I have been staring at myself for the longest time ever, and I still can’t seem to pull off to look at my phone. There is something in that reflection that I cannot quite identify. Yet it’s me.

Its all me and there is something more, something which I can’t quite place.