Bombay Burns

Today is celebrated as Thanksgiving in the US. I had scheduled a post that would mention the various things I am thankful for. But after the long night we all have had, I’ve had to rescind it.

I just don’t know what to say. I’m very angry and numb at the same time. It’s the most daring attack on everything I hold dear. My city is burning, people are dying. It’s as if nothing makes sense anymore.

The railway Bomb blasts in 2006, were an attack on Mumbai’s Jugular vein. This one is an attack on Mumbai’s pride.

Let us pray, not only for the Injured, and dead, not only for their families, but for Peace as well.

My Philosophy

Over the years, I have honed the image of being a wise, omniscient, all knowing guy. It seems to people, that I have all the answers, especially when it comes to life. How Ironic! Actually what everyone is looking for, is for answers. If I look at my Gtalk list right now, I can see several relevant status messages like: Why do so many questions, not have answers?’, ‘Why me god?’ ‘How can he live without me?’ ‘When will this end?’

Now I don’t claim to be a guru, or anything. (Disclaimer: I am one of the founders of Woodism, and have been conferred the title of ‘Patron Saint of Sarcasm’) It’s just that I say things, which people think, are profound, and deep. That’s all bullshit! I just use some common sense.

I often have friends coming up to me, and telling me about the latest philosophy they heard about, which will help them out through their troubled times. I usually proceed then, to call them on the bullshit. Then inevitable comes the question: What is the right philosophy?

I refuse to answer that question. Partly, because there is no right answer. Each one of us has to find the answer for oneself. What I do help them with, is asking the right questions, and pointing out the potential pitfalls, when trying to understand, any of these life-changing theories

So here are some points to consider:

1]Never use a philosophy to justify your behavior!

I am sick of the number of times, that a friend comes to me, and tells me about a philosophy, or theory of life, that has a view, convergent with theirs, and hence are all excited with it. The problem with this line of thinking is, that you choose convenience over truth, Laziness over hard work. If you understand a theory, and make it your way of life, it’s ok. I can accept that. What I do not appreciate is something that you pick up, just because it is easy.

2] Any Philosophy has to help you through failure.

Failure is a part of life. You will not always get what you want. Life will, at some time or other, will go in directions you do not want. If someone tells you, that if you follow something, or do something, or wish hard enough, the world will dance on your tunes all the time, they are simply lying.
You have to accept this fact. And deal with it. There can be no two ways about it!

3] Any Philosophy that denies the presence of the present, is not worth your time.

There are many schools of thought, that say, that life is all maya, and it is not real. Well, it does seem real to all of us. These theories are a favorite amongst people that are suffering a lot. It helps them stay in denial, and lead a passive existence. I don’t find that very useful, and it’s best to avoid these kinds of things.

4] Any thing that promises Quick results, is fake.

I don’t have much to add, except for to clarify, that I am not talking about concepts and insights. These can be quick and simple, but implementing them is very difficult, and a long process.

Feynman used to talk about a saying, he heard in Hawaii. ‘Each man is giving the key to the doors of heaven. The same keys, also open the doors to hell.’

This post is a part of the November madness programme that I am following, where I attempt to post one entry on this blog, everyday for the last 3 weeks of November.

Does He know?

Jai could hear the din of excited murmur, as he strained to understand the numbers in the excel sheet in front of him. He let out a deep sigh, and decided to find out, what the ruckus was all about. As he looked out, through his glass door, he could see Sanjay, come out of the Boss’s cabin, with a packet of sweets in his hands. People were gathering around his seat, and were gesticulating excitedly. Sanjay caught his eyes, and with a shake of his hand, asked Jai, to join the group.

The number crunching would have to wait. Jai, got out of his seat, opened the door to his cabin, and made his way to Sanjay’s desk. “You old bastard! You didn’t tell us about her! When did this happen?” Someone was saying. People were generally laughing and smiling, and making digs at Sanjay. “Come, Jai. You must be the last person to get the news”, he said, and showed jai his left hand. No, not the middle finger…it was his ring finger that everyone was pointing at.

“I got engaged over the weekend, and will no longer be available for all you lovely women!” he joked. “Her name is Kamana, and doesn’t she look pretty?” He pointed at his monitor. There was something awfully familiar about that face, hidden behind those huge sunglasses that all girls suddenly seem to be wearing. Then he saw the small scar, just at the edge of her mouth. It all came back to him.

Life can be funny sometimes. Jai couldn’t help, but smile as he remembered, how he had given her the scar, when he had been playing darts, with rohan, in their room and She had suddenly walked in. “Does he know?” he wondered. Sanjay, was all smiles, as he accepted the congratulations from all and sundry, and offered them sweets in return.

Jai suddenly had more important things to do, and the monthly report, suddenly didn’t seem so important. “You are coming for drinks, aren’t you?” Sanjay asked. “No, I have some work to do” he replied. Jai, locked his computer, took his bag, and left the office.

“Dude, you are at home, right? I’m coming over.” He yelled on the phone. “Ok” came the muffled reply from the other side. “Auto, JP nagar” he yelled at the auto guy, as he got in. Now was not the time for politeness, too many things were going on in his mind. ‘He must have known. How could he not have known about all this? And he never told me. Poor chap. How must he be feeling?’ was his train of though, as he planned his next plan of action. “Bas! Yehi side me laga dena” he told the auto guy, pointing to the wine shop.

“Salim bhai, kaise ho??…haan mera regular. Do khamba shark tooth, aur ek Old Monk…cold drink bhi de dena..Aur kya hai?” Jai knew the owner of the wine shop. He had been his best customer for the three years, when he had lived with rohan, and now that he had come back after a gap of more than 2 years, Salim bhai, was happy to see him. After some perfunctory, small talk, Jai moved on to Majid’s Biryani corner, where he picked up four-plate mutton biryani…the regular order. It had been a long time, since he had met Rohan, and it wasn’t in the best of circumstances now, but it would have to do.

They had been like brothers, in those glorious days of Engineering, and they had enjoyed all the 6 semesters they had been roommates. They had been virtually inseparable, and people often thought that they were a gay couple. This was ironic, because both of them had various girlfriends, during the entire time, and enjoyed going on double dates. Kamana was one of those girls…Rohan’s best girlfriend, as they had once joked. Jokes apart, she had been his longest relationship, and always had a special place in his heart.

He still remembered the time Rohan broke up with her. It was actually she who had broken up with him. And that had mainly to do with Jai, being always around him. She had asked him to choose between Jai, and herself, and like a loyal friend, he chose Jai. He cried over the turn of events, and always remembered her after that, but not for a moment did he question his choice.

Rohan opened the door, only after Jai rang the bell for a couple of minutes. He hadn’t taken the news well. Jai couldn’t bear to look at his friend. Unshaved, dressed only in boxers, and a thin shirt, with red eyes…he really looked depressed. Even though it was still daylight outside, it was dark in the room, as the drapes had been drawn. The laptop, was belting out a, blues song, and one could feel the morose atmosphere of the small apartment. Jai went and hugged Rohan. “You should have told me about this.” He said, as he kicked off his formal shoes, in the living room.

“You have been crying, haven’t you?”
“No! I tried really hard, but couldn’t. My eyes are red…since I haven’t slept a wink since I heard the news last week. I don’t know why it is affecting me so much. It’s good that you came”
Jai, settled down on the rug in the living room, and began to spread around the stuff he had got. “Don’t worry! Jai is here. We’ll have Sharktooth, like the in old days. And plus…Ghum ka saathi Rum”

Both of them had been through a lot together. The good as well as the bad. They had seen India Lose the world cup, had been there when they had finally passed their BE’s, and the regular problem with the girls. The answer to every problem had been ‘Chalo! Peetai hai.’ Be it a celebration, or mourning, alcohol had been their savior, and tonight, once again, Jai hoped, it would ease the pain. Jai knew, what he had to do. He had to listen, and let the drink do its thing. It was a difficult time for Rohan, and Jai just had to be there.

A couple of biryani, and four patiala pegs later, Rohan was in a much more somber mode. He had his head back, and was listening to the Himesh number, coming from the laptop. He was rolling the glass, between his fingers- and Jai knew- he was thinking before he began his dramatic monologue.

“I don’t know why I’m feeling this way” he began, “ I didn’t even care about her. I had almost forgotten about her, till Priya told me about her situation. Priya, you remember her, don’t you? The tall one, with lips like Catherine Zeta Jones? Well anyway... it was a bolt out of the blue. I don’t know why it hurts so much. Suddenly I feel it’s all wrong. I shouldn’t have ended it with her. We didn’t end it for a good enough reason. Wait, I don’t mean it in that way. I would never have trader you for her. I mean…I should have made her see my point of view. We often do things that we think are right, for the right reasons. What we don’t understand are its full implications, and these small things come to haunt us.

We had potential dude, great potential. She was the one who made get up every day, and go the gym. She made me stop smoking. She actually changed me. And that is more than what I can say about the other short skirts I chase. You remember how I came back from Lonaval…all happy? I don’t think I have ever been that happy.

Happy...that is what I said I wanted her to be, when Priya told me about her engagement. But I was lying. I want her to be happy, but only with me. It hurts me to see her smiling, along side that monkey.

But what can I do? Life’s like that. You do stupid stuff, and have to bear the consequences. You know, these emotions are a weird thing. It’s so silly of me to live in the past…focus on something, which in reality we might not even have had; but I can’t help it. I know, you are going to tell me to get over it. To ignore it, and live even in denial if that helps. But you know what? I don’t want to. I’ll rather prefer to have this sorry state, than get over her. She was one in a million. I can’t deny that.

I can’t hate her even. I know I tried. She had the gall to send me an invitation via Priya. It is far too easy to convert love to hate, but I don’t want the easy way out. Ya, I do love her…and I’m going to accept that. I have no other option.

But this is all a moot point. Abhi chadi hai, that’s why I’m saying all this. Tomorrow morning, It’s going to be the sorry old me, and nothing is going to change. She is going to marry that bastard, and I’m going to die all alone.

Maybe that is what is bugging me. Ya, I hate that I’m alone. Ya, I’m seeing someone, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m lonely and alone. What the hell…Make me one more large peg!”

Jai knew, that it was all going to be okay. He smiled as he passed on a large Rum and coke.

This post is a part of the November madness programme that I am following, where I attempt to post one entry on this blog, everyday for the last 3 weeks of November.

Web 2.0 and what it means

This term-Web 2.0- is a very ambiguous and nebulous term. No one exactly knows what it means. Wikipedia says that “The term "Web 2.0" describes the changing trends in the use of World Wide Web technology and web design that aim to enhance creativity, communications, secure information sharing, collaboration and functionality of the web.” , while It is more cynically explained as “You make all the content. They keep all the revenue.” on bash.

It has been hailed as the democratization of the web. Anyone anywhere can edit the web, and make their mark. You can post your own video on youtube, comment on any blog or article. If you have more to share, start your own blog, and air out your views to the world. It was because of this phenomenon, that Time magazine, named You as the person of the year in 2006. Soon, I’m told, Obama, will answer comments in his weekly webcast once he becomes the president. On our own Indian side, the people’s president used to check his website, and answer the questions and emails that he got.

But all this creates a false sense of mass participations, as it is currently pictured. The Web still is heavily one sided, with a small minority of users, creating the content, and the majority passively consuming it. This was studied in a project, where edits of Wikipedia were watched. They found that “50% of all the edits are done by just .7% of the users ... 524 people. ... And in fact the most active 2%, which is 1400 people, have done 73.4% of all the edits." The remaining 25% of edits, he said, were from "people who [are] contributing ... a minor change of a fact or a minor spelling fix ... or something like that."

What was more interesting was that for a certain article(chosen to be studied), most of the content was created by just a couple of people, and the other, just made minor changes here and there. Read more about it here.

I recently could see the terrible one-sidededness of the web, on this very blog. A friend had a problem with his laptop, and I helped him to solve it. While searching for the solution, I found that quite a few people, were facing the same problem, and there was no coherent and exhaustive solution available anywhere. I solved it, by trial and error, after looking at hints here and there.

So I decided to document the solution, and put it up, on my blog. That post was this one. Now this entry comes within the top 10, of a google search, using any of the keywords, which a user would use, while searching for a solution, to this particular problem. And many did search, and a lot of people did come to this page. If you look at the screen shot below, you’ll see that over 170 people have seen this entry, most of them coming from search engines.

On an average, 4 to 5 people come everyday, searching for a solution to this problem. But how many people have left a thank you, or a comment? Only 1. Is this bad manners or lethargy? I don’t know.

What it does show is that, even with the Web 2.0, the Internet is very much a one sided flow of information, and the discussion, one thinks of, is rather limited.

This post is a part of the November madness programme that I am following, where I attempt to post one entry on this blog, everyday for the last 3 weeks of November.

You know you are a sexist!

A couple of days ago, Heidemarie Stefanyshyn-Piper, lost her Tool bag, while doing a spacewalk for a repair to the ISS. Read more about it here: NASA Astronaut Loses Tools, Gets Screwed Over By Space

Today we hear that one of the spiders is missing from its expected position in the ISS. Read more about it here: World Wide Tangled Web


On reading this, one of the slashdotters commented:

That's why Heidi let the bag go yesterday. I know my wife runs out of the room screaming when she sees a spider.

And you know who laughed out loud. Or atleast now you know.

This post is a part of the November madness programme that I am following, where I attempt to post one entry on this blog, everyday for the last 3 weeks of November.

Geeky Humour-1

I like to place the blame for all my problems, at the feet of my geekiness. Somehow I have made it the central pillar of my character, using it, as an excuse, as well as a justification for moth of the things I do, which tend to deviate from the things common people do.

I wear my geekiness as a badge (You’ll see it on the right hand column of this blog as well). It is a badge, which in many ways is unnecessary, because it is hardly a prerequisite for most things I love doing. Where it is required, is to explain my behavior to non-geeks, the muggles of this non-magical world.

Today I’ll like to talk about one thing, which is hardly ever understood by non-geeks; that is geeky humour. It is not that we are unfunny, or that we don’t get the usual jokes. It’s just that we find some other things funnier. And these things require the usage of the left-brain, a little more than with your usual joke.

Now Rrandall Monroe, had once said that analyzing a joke is like dissecting a frog — it can be done, but the frog dies. Hence I’m not going to do it. I’ll try to talk about things that we find funny.

1. We find jokes, where you have to think, funny. Especially when the punchline, is something exactly opposite to the conclusion that you come to after joking.
2. We like Puns. The more abstract, the better.
3. We like references to geek culture. The more obscure, the better.
4. We like to make fun of people, who do not think (or rather make a virtue out of it). This mainly includes people in Management, people who do a lot of spinning (people in advertising, or the media in general), wannabe geeks, and a few others
5. Our jokes will often have an appearance of being very hi-brow, but once you think about it, they are as crass as the grossest joke.
6. Jokes which show off your knowledge about an obscure field are appreciated. This is mainly due to the fact, that to understand, the listener also needs to know about that particular field; thus earning points for all concerned.

This is all but a small subset of the jokes I enjoy, and I’m sure I’ll add to the list, as more things come to mind.

This post is a part of the November madness programme that I am following, where I attempt to post one entry on this blog, everyday for the last 3 weeks of November.

Clichés to avoid

English is a difficult language. Good English, is even more difficult. Language is the main component of our communication. We speak and listen, read and write, all to communicate our thoughts and ideas, feelings hopes and aspirations. We transfer information, and not to forget, communicate, just to connect to someone.

Sometimes we get lazy, and use the same clichéd expressions, which become Irritating due to their repetition and improper Usage. A book by the name of ‘Damp Squid’ is currently in the news, for talking about them. This article talks about the ten most irritating expressions

I personally found the article to be quite interesting. One might think that one is using fairly unique language, but we often tend to reuse the words and ideas that would be easily be understood by all. At the end of the day, we are trying to communicate with other, and often people don’t want to think; they absolutely find it easier if we speak in metaphors already known to them. It’s a nightmare, having to think originally, and using sentences that will sufficiently convey what you want to. With all due respect, people who use any of these clichés should be made to compulsory read at least five good books. There could be some better punishment, but at this moment in time, I am unable to think of any. People shouldn’t of be mentally lazy, and use the same old expressions. 24/7 we are thinking, how hard can it be to mindfully select the words one uses? It’s not rocket science!

The BBC’s Magazine, came up with 20 more phrases.

If you have a look at it, it’s basically a list of phrases that have lost their appeal due to repeated usage. To be fair, sometimes, these phrases might be the best ones to convey our thoughts. But to be honest, I believe that the usage of these is indicative of mental lethargy, rather than anything else. Going forward, we should try to use the appropriate words in the right places. The fact of the matter is, the use of such dull language, can be quite boring, and let’s face it, that is something no one wants. We need to touch base with our inner author, and try to avoid them like the plague. Ask yourself, ‘Are you giving your 100%? Can you do better?” It might take time, for our language to get better, but the change is in the pipeline. The reason being, that language is dynamic, not static and stagnant. I’m not being funny, but a stagnant pool gets covered by moss, and all living things in it die.

You know, that you don’t want to follow down that path. Think about it. By the end of day’s play, I want you to decide whether you want to improve or not. How boring does it get, when we are singing from the same hymn sheet. I simply can't get my head round how we can just sit here doing nothing. I don’t have a raft of proposals, to roll out. You need to think on your own. Don't just talk the talk, you got to walk the talk. Read good books. Talk to interesting people. Stimulate your mind.

If all of look at the history of the world, Lessons will be learned. We’ll definitely open our eyes. We need people to actually start using better language

This post is a part of the November madness programme that I am following, where I attempt to post one entry on this blog, everyday for the last 3 weeks of November.

The Killer Cellphone

As a geek, I love technology and gadgets, but there is no gadget that I share as much of a love-hate relationship with as the mobile phone.

Yes the mobile phone is very handy and useful. It can be used as a camera, as a handy calendar, a replacement for the radio And so on, saying nothing about its usage for voice communication. I’m always amused to see old TV shows like “The Jetsons” where they tried to show the futuristic world as best as they could imagine, and totally missed the humble cellphone. Who would have thought, that sms would be such a ubiquitous mode of communication, and used everywhere. Some people even go to great lengths, and call the cell phone, the end of all other gadgets, and write articles like this: Five Gadgets That Were Killed by the Cellphone

I am more skeptical about this. Yes it very useful to have everything in one device –You don’t have to carry many different appliances, each with their own charger and wires-, but then you end up with a device, that is a jack-of-all-trades, master of none. Give me a scientific or accounting calculator over the Cellphone for calculations anyday. Any two-in-one gives better radio reception than a Cellphone ever can. It can catch more bands, and from a wider bandwidth as well. As for playing mp3s, very few devices come close to the user friendliness of an Ipod. And don’t get me started about the camera on a Cellphone.

What scares me more as a geek is that you do not have redundancy, or multiple points of failure. If by mistake you lose your cell phone, either by misplacing it, or due to a technical failure, you lose everything. You lose your music, your appointments, your messages and your contacts. Of course you could religiously back it up every night, but truthfully who amongst us does that?

Another reason mobiles irritate me, is that they depend on electricity for everything. If you are out of battery juice, you are out of luck. You can’t even get out the number of person you want to call and warn that you won’t be able to call. Cell phones, should fail gracefully, with different levels of non-functionality as the battery power goes down, and not suddenly become an expensive brick, as they do currently.

They irritate me for a different reason too, but that one is social, not technical, and I should write about that soon. Till then enjoy this joke: Dave's New Cell Phone


This post is a part of the November madness programme that I am following, where I attempt to post one entry on this blog, everyday for the last 3 weeks of November.

Dasvidaniya-A review

Talk to any hindi film lover about a Man dying of cancer, and Rajesh Khanna’s Anand will be the first thing that will come up. Rajesh Khanna has a sort of monopoly on the character of a dying but cheerful protagonist, in the bollywood lover’s psyche, with films like Anand and Safar. Those are very big boots to fill, and Vinay Pathak and Shashant Shah do it convincingly.

This is Shashant Shah’s first film, and I didn’t know much about him. But all I needed were just a few Google searches before I figured out why he could succeed, where several others have failed. He has been the director of several comedy shows like ‘The Great Indian Comedy Show’. The writer of this movie, Arshad Syed, has been the lead writer for TGICS, as well as, the writer of Javed Jafferey’s Videocon Flashback. Leave it to the comedy writers to make such a wonderful film on death.

But actually, even though the film is about death, it is more about life and living, not just existing. Amar is an accounts manager in a small firm, and is living a utterly banal life, till he comes to know, that he has stomach cancer, and just about three months to live
The major part of the movie deals with what he does after he comes to know of this fact.

We often live utterly boring lives, saving up for a better tomorrow, and sometimes that tomorrow never comes. What would you do in such a case? What about your dreams and hopes and aspirations? What about all those things that you had thought you would do? Sometimes you need a deadline, and not everyone is fortunate enough to find when theirs is.

Vinay Pathak, is a fabulous actor, and everyone knows about it. This is a film with a lot of cameos: from Ranvir to Saurabh Shukla, from Neha Duphia to Purvi Joshi, Gaurav Gera to Suresh Menon, and several Others. Most of them were from the cast of ‘The Great Indian Comedy Show’ and the director uses them in the exact required dose.

This movie is not about great people, nor about big locations and glamor. It about regular people like you and me, who have dreams of their own, and want to achieve them one day, but somehow they are lost in day to day life.
This is a movie, which is not great, but is definitely worth your time. Go and watch it.

This post is a part of the November madness programme that I am following, where I attempt to post one entry on this blog, every remaining day of November minus weekends, public holidays, and any day i might get laid.

True Love

I still remember that night, as if it was yesterday. I was still huffing, and catching my breath, when I plopped down on the berth. The old man, in front of me, smiled and said, “I’m glad you could make it. We were worried that you would miss this train, and after this one, there are no other trains for four days.” And he offered me the chips he was having. As I munched, on the chips, I could see the city moving past me, through the window. This mass of disorganized light, twinkling through the dark window glass.

He was right; I almost hadn’t made it. The day was Christmas Eve, five years back. The climate was weird; like almost every winter evening in Mumbai. The Air was heavy with the smell of the salty ocean. And I was stuck, in a traffic jam at Bandra Kurla complex for the last hour. The wind came from the direction of dharavi, carrying all the pollutants from there, along with it. The heat in the taxi was suffocating, and my time was running out.

I could see bus after bus, filled with drunken villagers, shouting political slogans, being directed by the police, along the highway. You see, this was no ordinary day. It was the day, that the so-called savior of India, the last hope of every Indian, the champion of the masses, had her rally at Shivaji Park.

And these buses, were full of her so called supporters, who had been brought from outside Bombay, in hired buses, just by promising them free food and booze.

I still had half an hour, to reach Dadar. And as the last of the buses, receded from view, I might just be able to make it. Now you already know, that I did make it to the train, and there is no need for me to labour on, and tell you how it happened. It suffices to say, that I had to jump in the running train, which would explain why I was huffing, when I sat in front of him.

I described the traffic jams, caused by these paid supporters, and he just smiled. He just looked at me with his wise eyes, and said:

“You might think, I’m joking, but I can’t really expect you to believe me. We were from a different era, when a leader was really a leader. People loved him, and came from faraway to see him. They would leave their offices, and come to hear him speak. Schools were closed, so that children could line the roads and see him go past.

I saw him on a sultry summer evening. He had landed at the Juhu airport, and was coming down to Bombay, to meet one of his old friends from the freedom struggle. Mind you, this was a time, when Bombay central, was really the center of Bombay, and Dadar, was considered the outskirts of the city. I had just finished an operation, and was cleaning, up, when I heard that he would be traveling along the road in front of my hospital.

I got out, and stood near the gate. There was already a big crowd there, waiting for him. I could see several thousands lining the street. The kids had flags their hands, and the Adults had equally awed expressions on their faces.

Finally I could see his motorcade, coming along. In those days, there were no security problems, and the leader was truly loved.
He just had one police escort, and he was traveling in an open-air convertible. Some people had flowers in their hands, and he passed, they threw it up in the air, so that the leader was greeted with a rain of flowers. He did love this adulation and seemed very happy, with the reception, his people were giving him.

A few feet away from me, was a maimed beggar, with no legs, sitting on his pushcart that he wheeled around in. In his hands he had a single rose. As the car arrived closer, he raised his hands, so that he could properly aim the flower, and at the right moment, he threw it.
I wasn’t the only one watching him. Even the great man, saw this touching act of affection and stopped the car.
He got down, and talked to the beggar. And more flowers rained down on the pauper and his great leader”

---

On his Birth Anniversary, let me pay tribute to this great man, the architect of modern India.

This post is a part of the November madness programme that I am following, where I attempt to post one entry on this blog, everyday for the last 3 weeks of November.

A geek's rant

Being a geek has its advantages. You can repair you own computer, you don’t have that confused look on your face, when talking to someone about something you know absolutely nothing about, and you often can get modern electronic appliances to do your bidding.

There is a major drawback to being a geek. You are passionate about obscure and obstruce things. There is hardly anyone to talk to, about these things. People don’t get why you get all riled up about such things.

And god help us, if we try to explain this to others. They will fail to get why you are so obsessed about it, and then look at you in disturbed wonderment when you are not affected by what irritates them, and moves them to tears.

See this for example:

This has been a common gripe of mine for the last few years.

When you have a screenshot, send it as a .png, and when you have a photo, send it in .jpeg. How hard is it to understand?

I could go on and on, about jpeg artifacts, or compression ratios. I could tell you how you will be saving bandwidth by sending a png, or even how beautiful it looks, but you just don’t want to listen, do you?

You just want to carry on, in your simple little world, without thinking of what you are doing. You might even try to convince me, of how Jpegs are more convenient.

This is not a debatable point, like which is better C# or VB.net, or even is it S-Q-L or sequel

This is something un-debatable. Repeat after me: “When you have a screenshot, send it as a .png, and when you have a photo, send it in .jpeg”

But maybe I expect far too much from people. People send me screenshot as .bmp (arggghh!!!!) or god forbid, I might get a word document in my mail, with nothing but a print screen in it.

/rant

You can probably expect nothing better from us. We are beyond all hope of getting better. When you show us this Playboy centerfold, we’ll immediately start discussing it’s compression properties.

After looking at it, all I have to say: How ironic is it, that this image is a png?
Yes Irony...well what to do? I’ll go and cry in a corner now.

This post is a part of the November madness programme that I am following, where I attempt to post one entry on this blog, everyday for the last 3 weeks of November.

A Stylist or a Story Teller?

I had been watching the interview of Alan Ball, the director of Towelhead and he made a point, which I think is very important. He said,”… a director has to make a decision early on in his life. Does he want to become a story teller or a stylist?”

This goes to the very heart of what is wrong in the Hindi film industry. On one side you have excellent story-tellers, who weave rich tapestries with vivid emotions, new ideas and fresh situations. On the other hand, you have some filmmakers, who repeat and rehash the same old tales, and try to present them in a stylish new way.

We Indians, have a glorious tradition of story telling, and at some level, we all love to spin yarns. Some of these talented men and women are present in the film Industry, and do try to bring their aesthetics to the films that they make. Let us take Amir Khan for example.

I always knew in my heart that he knows what he is talking about. When he made his first film, we were all eagerly waiting to see what he comes out with. We were not disappointed. He produced a convincing piece of art, with a wonderful storyline, that touched everyone who saw it. I am not saying that he didn’t do it stylishly. He did. But he got his own aesthetics to it. He didn’t let what was fashionable, dictate what he should do with his story. Other men would have balked at having a painting competition as a climax, but Amir Khan, managed to convincingly pull it off.

On the other hand, you have numerable other, far too many to mention, who are just stylists. They will shoot a song in Egypt, just because it provides a picturesque background, for their dancers, in a particular song. There are others, who will cram in an item song, for the pleasure of the first row audiences. Others, might base their films, in imaginary fantasy locations, where the characters have no sense of geography. They do not speak in any particular local accent, nor act in a way that would indicate their origins, nor wear clothes suited to a particular climate or local culture. Who can blame the actors? The director was far too busy styling, to pay attention to the story.

You can see this difference, everytime we discuss a film in company. Do we discuss the storyline, the emotions, and the characters? Or do we tend to focus on the costumes, the jewelry, the stunning locations, and the stars featured in them?

There is another simple test to find out, if a director is a stylist or a story-teller. It is called Chekov’s Gun. What it basically says, is that if there is a gun on the wall, in the first act, it has to be used in the second act.

You need to see if there is anything in the film, that seems out of placed. Is there anything that is present, just because it is pretty to look at? Or is it integral to the story? That should lead you to the answer.

One might say that why is this so important? It’s all right, as long as one enjoys the movie. The problem with this is that style is temporary, while great stories live on for ever.

I forget who had said this, but whoever it was, was a wise artist. A piece of art is not perfect, when there is nothing more left to add. It becomes perfect, only when there is nothing left to subtract.

This post is a part of the November madness programme that I am following, where I attempt to post one entry on this blog, everyday for the last 3 weeks of November.

Death

The last 12 to 18 months, have been a learning experience for me. I have seen more of life, and death than ever before; especially death.

We can intellectually accept death as a Natural part of life. It is the only thing that is inevitable for all of us. It is the only thing that is guaranteed to happen. But when it happens, it hardly seems natural. When a 20 year old boy dies from jaundice, there is nothing natural about that. A 21 year old boy, complaining of chest pain and passing away in a day, is scarcely understandable. A 22 year old girl losing her father, hardly seems natural.

When one sees death, one stops... You just can't go on with what you doing. Some might conjecture that this is because you are thinking of your own mortality. While that might me true for some, it is not for me. I know, or rather feel that I am not afraid of my death. Death only takes away the deceased, it's those that are left behind, who suffer. The loss of a person hurts us, not because it indicates that we will leave some day too, but because it is a loss. It is often as simple as that.

That person might have been the world to us, or not. What truly hurts is the finality of it all. There is no permanence in anything except death. You might not meet a friend for a long time, but somewhere at the back of your mind, there is the thought of meeting him or her. You might have had a fight with someone, and you can always make up with him. There is always time...or that is what you think.

Once death comes along, everything changes. Death is permanent, things become irreparable, and there is no going back. You cannot talk to that person, nor convey what he or she meant to you. Death leaves a lot of things unsaid.

Man by nature is hopefully. Be he rich or poor, successful, or struggling, he always hopes for a better tomorrow. And this supposes, that tomorrow will be there. Death, lets go of all that. And that is why death hurts us so much.

This post is a part of the November madness programme that I am following, where I attempt to post one entry on this blog, everyday for the last 3 weeks of November.

The White Tiger: A Review

This book has won the Man Booker prize this year, as has no doubt been highly praised in the Main Stream Media as a result. Some of you might remember my aversion to popular books, as such, and especially those that have been recently awarded prestigious prizes. One would wonder then, as to why I would read this book. The answer is that I wanted to read this book, even before it was awarded the Man Booker Prize, and Arvind Adiga became the toast of the pseudo Intellectuals in the mainstream media. With that confession off my chest, let us get on to the book.

A superficial review would describe the story of the book, as the story of a man, who gets out of the village, becomes a driver, kills, and then goes on to have a successful life as an entrepreneur. It is written in the first person, via a series of letters to the Chinese premier (of all people).
But that would ignore the nuances of the story, or the skill of the story-telling. It would be glancing over the several themes that are touched in the book, or the characters that we meet, or their minds that we enter. It would fail to mention that this book is also an edge-of-the-seat thriller, with the reader, waiting for the next part of Balram’s life story to be brought to light, as the novel thunders to its inevitable end.

So what is the story, really about? It is about a lot of things. It is about the new India; One that appears to be shining through Glass buildings, fast cars, easy money and malls lit like Christmas lights, while at the same time, it is hollow within, and the tension between this superficial prosperity, and the utter poverty and helplessness of those that actually make and build this India, and make sure it works like clockwork. It is about those areas of darkness, which lie within the minds of people that are the fuel of this machine. They are there in our cities, but not living in them.

It is about Balram, the driver of a rich landowner, who has made quite a lot of wealth, of course, with several irregularities, and corruption. His son, a foreign returned Ashok, is in Delhi, paying off the Babus and the Netas, to make the Tax problems go away, as the family picks on a fight with the politician of that area. It is with this son that Balram serves.

The story deals with the Master-Servant relationship, in general, and is told from the perspective of Balram. We follow him, from his school days, as he has to drop out, to pay off loans, then migrate to the local town, and how he finally gets the Job. All along the way, we get lessons in ambition, and getting ahead in life.

This Balram, goes on to become an entrepreneur, in Bangalore. He tells us along the way of how he wants to get ahead in life, but how, he is caught in his instincts to be a good son, as well as a loyal servant. He calls these instincts, ‘the rooster coop’. He had dropped out of school, and become a ‘half-baked Indian’, but he never gave up on educating himself on the ways of life.
This is a story of how he learns about a new morality that would be required in his quest to the top. He has been once called a “white tiger” by a school inspector, who was surprised by adequate talents, in an inadequate village school. This tiger has to get out of his cage, learn the laws of the jungle, and rise to the top of the food chain, giving up on most of the things he once believed in.

This book is sort of a confessional, written as letters to the Chinese Premier. All men believe that they have a story to tell, and seek an audience for the same. We want to audience to believe us, so we often choose those that are like us, but at the same time are very different. It is easier if they were searching for what we have to offer, and this is why I believe, Balram, choose this particular recipient for his letters.

This book is a compelling, perceptive, sensitive and probing story of the New India, and I can’t recommend it enough.

This post is a part of the November madness programme that I am following, where I attempt to post one entry on this blog, everyday for the last 3 weeks of November.