tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-94250722024-03-07T21:24:08.443+05:30Life - collectibles, recollections, deja vu and a lot more...My Life, my days, my family, my colleagues, my work life minus the technology.Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-90636638014143599332021-06-10T14:57:00.004+05:302021-06-10T14:57:20.462+05:30Fast Tag FUll KYC Upgrade<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">If you face the situation of not able to top up your Fast Tag (NICT) because you are on limited KYC, follow these steps to upgrade to full KYC</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">1. Contact your wallet provider for the full KYC form. The form is wallet vendor specific<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">2. Down load the form</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">3. Print the form</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">4. Fill in the form providing all required details </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">5. Don't forget to affix photograph on the form and cross sign</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">6. Affix your signature at required places<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">6. Take photo copies of documents for verification </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">7. If you are providing Aadhar as a document for verification, be sure to read and know that it is voluntarily provided.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">7. Attest the documents with your sginature.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">8. Scan them all again, including the form.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Send all the documents to NICT at</span></p><p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i><span style="color: #244061; font-size: 10pt;">NICT - House</span></i></b></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">
</span><p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i><span style="color: #244061; font-size: 10pt;">Plot No. EB- 109, Scheme no. 94, </span></i></b></span></p><p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i><span style="color: #244061; font-size: 10pt;">Opp. Bombay Hospital (Service
line), </span></i></b></span></p><p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i><span style="color: #244061; font-size: 10pt;">Indore </span></i></b></span></p><p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i><span style="color: #244061; font-size: 10pt;">Madhya Pradesh- 452010</span></i></b></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">
</span><p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i><span style="color: #244061; font-size: 10pt;">0731 - 2448800</span></i></b></span></p><p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><i><span style="color: #244061; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></i></b></span></p><p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #244061; font-size: 10pt;">Send all scanned copies and pages of the form to </span><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><a class="o_h J_x mq_CZ G_e r_P C_Z2aVTcY S4_U ac_CI rtlI_dz_sSg" data-test-id="contact-card-email" title="fastagkyc@nict.ind.in">f</a>astagkyc@nict.ind.in</span></b><a class="r_P C_Z2aVTcY S4_U ac_CI Y_eo6" data-test-id="add-to-contacts" title="Add to contacts"><span><b><span style="font-family: courier;"> </span></b>and <span style="color: red;"><b>CC</b></span> to your wallet provider.<br /></span></a></span></p>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-10164332580062998162021-05-17T13:23:00.012+05:302021-05-18T08:24:42.927+05:30The corona home care diaries<p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">Disclaimer</span>: </b>This is not an expert advice but a written down version of an experience. So do tax your brains and use your judgement<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">I was not in the best of minds after losing a couple of friends to covid-19 and learning that a few more people I know are affected by Covid-19. Then the shock wave hit me with the knowledge of Best half and my children being affected by covid. Soon I had 3 very (but not serious condition) ill people at home and I was spared the infection. The onus fell on me to handle a situation that was at once scary and laborious. In such times, one turns towards kith and kin for comfort and succour; but from that direction only despair and doomsday messages were forthcoming. Not very helpful. One even sent a meme of a drowning person and a bystander suggesting to keep the spirits high. So with a first step (after rolling the sleeves), I plunged into covid home management. Through the days a few close friends kept watch over me. Just that they called or messaged me was enough to keep the spirit high.They even addressed my sense of humour. More I could not ask of them. I did not inform parents or close relatives about what has transpired. My mom would have taken another upavasam to make the gods suffer for my trouble. </span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">So, what do you do when corona hits home and you are the caretaker?</span> </span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Some learning and a lot of wisdom I learnt which I think can help. <br /></span></span></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">You need help and assistance. <span style="color: red;">ASK</span> and if needed pay. You cannot do this alone. </span>Stop trying to be a hero. Heroes of this kind get people killed. </b><br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Stop being a jerk, get everyone at home tested and not just the ones showing symptoms </span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Stop trying to figure out how they got infected. You will NOT find the answer. Even if you do, you might not like the answer. <br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Consult a doctor. No! Your internet search and forwarded info on whatsapp is not research. it is stupidity. Consult point #1. <br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Prepare a airy bright room with
comforts (preferably with attached bathroom) like a laptop, wifi access,
books for the infected people to isolate without feeling left out.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Quit whatsapp groups. Most of them dont help you when you need it. Even after you tell folks on it to stop sending doomsday msgs, criticism of country's handlng of covid, memes of bad taste; you are bombarded by them. If you are glutton for punishment, stay on. </span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Stop following twitter, face book or what ever is your poison</span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Lock the liquor cabinet and throw the key; you don't have the luxury of going into a drunk stupor. <br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Get a lot of sanitizer.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Stock up on emergency foods and caffeine. </span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Get a good quality thermometer and oxy-meter (your doctor will advice you to). Remember there is a difference between inexpensive and cheap. Choose your side carefully. You want to be sure of the reading.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Once you have the above two equipment; learn how to use them and understand the readings as advised by your doctor and not by your internet search or whatsapp university study. Stop being a jerk. <br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">Don't stock oxygen, medicines unless told to do so</span>. </b> It was quite difficult getting my hands on medicines since people without any issues were buying them handful at a time. <b>You are an abominable waste of a human specimen if you hoard medication</b>.<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">If possible get food delivered home. Not from a restaurant but from a home caterer. You would need a balanced diet too and not just fat and protein. <br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Keep washing used dishes. It is easier to manage a limited quantity of dishes than doing so in bulk.<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Keep washing those clothes and sheets</span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Be hygienic and wash yourself too. A two day veshti is bad news.<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">You are not infected; you are not in isolation; so wear that damn mask all the time. It will not kill you and will also not make your mouth resemble a pithecanthropus. In case that is your primary worry; it is worth to your family to be rid of you.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><i>When you get a break - sleep. Dont play selfie-selfie or some thing else with digital equipment. No you don't need stress busters. You will need sleep and rest. <br /></i></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Work can wait or will be done by some else. Call your manager or skip level and explain the situation and why you cannot attend to your employment obligations. <br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">At this point, you family needs you full time. So much that you will have forgotten if you have had food.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Happiness comes in small sizes. Become a alpa-santoshi. Celebrate small things, laugh at idiot jokes. What ever helps you smile you through the day - do that<br /></span></b></span></li></ol><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">This event in life taught and reinforced</span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"> the belief that the collective is stupid and a few wise people are the reason I want to continue existence. To these few people I do a "naked head respect showing" i.e. </span><span style="font-size: large;">नतमस्तक नमन <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">A big thank you to my colleagues and team members who ensured that I will not be missed and took on my employment obligations in addition to their own<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">A big thank you to Soni, Kunju Sane, Renu and Karan, Babu bhai who kept messaging, calling, delivering stuff to me through my days. </span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Everyone SHOULD have the friends like I do. </span></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">A big thank you to Dr. Sonali and Dr. Vijay Laxmi, our doctor who nagged me to keep sending signs of life in the form of daily temparature and oxygen level readings. <br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">A big thank you to Suchita, the pharmacy lady who made sure that I did not fall short of medicines (although they were delayed by a dosage). Some way or other she made sure we got the medicines. </span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">A big thank you to Sonali, the person who ensured we never stayed hungry. <br /></span></li></ol><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-91202248442566507692020-09-24T10:58:00.009+05:302021-02-15T22:49:12.765+05:30Old Tales - Devi Amma to the rescue<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span face=""Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif"><span style="background-color: #38761d;"><b><i>DISCLAIMER: I am not taking lessons in moral science or decrying any reli<span>gion or fa<span>ith or beliefs, so please just <span>ensure t<span>hat you drink a a good quantity of sense of humor <span>before starting to read </span></span></span></span></span></i></b></span></span></span><br>This is a lore which came to me very recently and amma gave me a TL;DR version which goes </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">This temple is not your dad's but someone named "<i>in fond memory of some one who once had a life</i>".</span></p><h2 style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Full story (with lot of ice gola and golgappa)</span></h2><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Long long ago, so long ago, nobody knows how long go, but definitely not very long ago, somewhere near present day Coimbatore Shanmuga, Vinayagar and Ayyappa were playing in a new Shiva temple. Unlike temples of old this was a shiny concrete affair. Shiva and Devi were snoozing in the garbhagudi (sanctum).</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Seeing appa and amma sleep, Shanmuga called his younger brothers. "Deyi Mani! Deyi Ganu! engada thoongindirukkal (where are you guys sleeping)? Eppa pathavulum aravanai puliyodharai daana? Stop eating aravana and puliyodharai all the time. Lets go play. Amma and appa are sleeping. No one to tell us dont do this, don't do that. I will also ask that Nandi and Bhairava to warn us when amma or appa wake up". Kanna </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Parvani</span> (Parvani, shanmuga's peacock, his trusted vahana/mount) please squawk when amma or appa wakes up. If you sleep again like y'day no more snake snacks for you. Mind it! </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span>Nyaan ningalude kude Kalikunalla(I will not play with you guys) said Ayyappa. Ganu huffed and said "there he goes again in Malayalam- Tamil buddy! Tamil!" Ayyappa repeated in Tamil that he did not want to play with them. Suddenly </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Parvani</span> squawked so loudly that the lord of the gods woke from his slumber and came out running thinking that his kannukuttis (little calves) were in danger. Shanmuga turned to </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Parvani</span> and asked "Kanna </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Parvani</span>! yenda? yen? (why da? why?)". </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Parvani</span> replied, "lord, I was doing mike testing 1, 2, 3". Shiva roared and gave him a hard knock on the head with the end of his trisoolam; turned to his kids and said "kanna! can you chaps just give us 1 day's sleep. Devi wants to binge-watch Kaliyuga from the beginning". All three of them said "Sorry appa! We will also take a nap." The lord of the gods gave an enigmatic smile and went back into the garbagudi. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">The three of them waited for the door to close and as soon as the door closed, Shanmuga and Vinayagar turned to Ayyappa and asked why will you not play with us? Ayyappa asserted that the two of them don't play fair. "First you said let's race riding each of our mounts. Your </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Parvani</span> and Mooshik ran away when I came riding a tigress. So you cancelled the game and now you want to race without animal mounts. Tcha! Hutt! I don't want to play with you", pouted Ayyappa. Now Shanmuga and Vinayagar felt sorry for their attitude towards their anujakumaran and asked him what he would like to play?Ayyappa suggested to climb atop the temple structures. He said "It has been some time since we appreciated the art and architecture". Shanmuga and Vinayagar rued their decision; but they were gods and god-children, and they could not go back on their word and now they had to play Ayyappa's game of study art and architecture! and that too on a shiny concrete affair. Not very interesting. But they would not give up. Yet! And they looked around for the first structure to climb and their eyes fell on the gold leaf covered dwajastambam (flag pillar) and their eyes fully reflected their mischief. They turned to Ayyappa and said, "ok, let's start with studying the dwajastambham, We can use any implements to do the climb". Shanmuga called for </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Parvani</span>; climbed on his back and asked him to fly up to the top of the pillar while keeping his beak shut. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Parvani</span> had this useless uncontrollable desire to squawk during his short bursts of flight. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Now Vinyagar using his 4 hands (chaturbuja) started ascending the pillar on his own. </span>The two reached the top of the pillar one after the other; Vinayagar was tugging at his tusk. He wanted to poke Shanmuga for cheating. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XX4y9DNAsnLd3NS9LojGUUFYJNALLDDAInvwFWX7ftNt5CnefHpgxavzR37nQhZDDf9VabJGIgMcX2XAMXgNEtJqFgHoxb1cnRJmrDjQAiPornCRAGAoUQPAiURcuFvLOq1b/s2048/maanga-madayan.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1492" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XX4y9DNAsnLd3NS9LojGUUFYJNALLDDAInvwFWX7ftNt5CnefHpgxavzR37nQhZDDf9VabJGIgMcX2XAMXgNEtJqFgHoxb1cnRJmrDjQAiPornCRAGAoUQPAiURcuFvLOq1b/w291-h400/maanga-madayan.jpeg" width="291"></a></span>But to their surprise, they noticed Ayyappa seated on top of the pillar, calmly eating aravana. Vinayagar forgot his irritation and said "Deyi Mani, enakkum thada aravanai(give me also)". They sat slurping aravanai and did not notice the flag pillar leaning out slowly. The pillar could have supported may be one god, but three gods and one mount was one too many and started crumbling outward. it crashed into the gopuram (tall structure on gate) with a resounding crack. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Parvani</span> gave a competing alarm squawk. Jagatjanini came out </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span>as Bhadrakali</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">; blue with red tongue lolling. She broke the heavy door and wrought iron gate of the garbhagudi; She couldn't be botherd about the niceties like opening doors and gates properly when she was all worried and and angry thinking that some one was trying to harm her children. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span>She screamed - "evan da angey (who is there?)" - Ayyappa, Shanmuga and Vinyagar on cue responded in unison "thillana thillana". The Bhadrakali gave way to Bhavasagaratarini. She sat down and collected the children in her lap and started crooning a lullaby when she noticed the fallen pillar and the crumbled gopuram. She asked who did this? Vinayagar and Shanmuga as was their wont pointed to Ayyappa and said he did. He climbed on top to eat aravana when it fell. She asked Ayyappa why did you climb the pillar and whom did you ask? Ayyappa pouting at the other two asked "It is my appa's temple. Why should I take anybody's permission". Bhavasagaratarini smiled and said, it is not your appa's temple. it is someone else's. Then whose temple is this they asked in unision. See that broken plinth over there. See a name written on it. On the plinth was written "in fond memory of ..." . The temple belongs to that maanga madayan (mango idiot or aam admi) and his children. It is not your Appa's temple. Ayyappa said sorry and nestled in her lap for his afternoon nap. The other two also nestled with a contended sigh! They could always win over their mother. With a wave of her hand, Devi restored the gopuram and flag pillar. Vinayagar asked "why did you repair the temple"? She said it is my husband's temple, how can I let it be broken. Shanmuga on cue (he always like to point out things), "just now you said it belonged to a maanga madayan and now you say it is appa's. Which is it?" The Jaganmata gave him a smile and said "you are kids, you wont understand meta-metaphysics"<br></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-size: medium;">Note: Fans of Rajnikanth will readily grasp the relation between "evan da angey" and "thillana thillana"</span><br></span></span></p>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-52573180516346048362016-08-28T19:09:00.001+05:302016-08-28T21:21:34.895+05:30Totally biased opinions formed in a 7 day road and rail trip<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span data-offset-key="8r8qv-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I went on a vacation trip to ostensibly attend a wedding and conduct a religious ceremony and I was to go all the way by train but as events unfold I went on a road and rail trip. By my dates and times folly my best half and the apples of my two eyes were also subjected to this road and rail trip. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">car B<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">h<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">adra took us around and brought us home safe<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8r8qv-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Pune Benga<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">luru by road </span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8r8qv-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Bengaluru Chenn<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ai by train</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8r8qv-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Chennai Vaithee<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">swaran Chennai by Train </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8r8qv-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Chennai <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Be<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ngaluru by train</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8r8qv-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">B</span>engaluru Hu<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">bli by road</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8r8qv-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">H<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ubli Pune b<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">y road.</span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8r8qv-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Hubli happened on a whim and knowledge that there we<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">re t<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">wo old temples <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">within it's vicin<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ity. Anyway this is no<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">t a trip diary bu<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">t a series <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">of observations and a unfounded confounding opinion based on those observations. The <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">onward trip<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> was uneventf<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ul but for being flagged by the Kar<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">nataka H<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ighway patrol cop for over-sp<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">eeding</span>. I was only on 90KMPH<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">. Alright<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">! alright<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">! I was on 120KMPH.</span></span></span> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But this chap, he</span> was from a <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">different</span> planet. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">He was <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">v</span>ery poli<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">te, actually friend<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ly and even addressed me a<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">s "Sir". Took <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">penalty</span> amount, gave me receipt and sent me with a gentle <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">warning "drive slowly". My experience with policemen<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> has been fa<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">r and few and they <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">were not exac<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">tly someth<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ing I would reflect upon fondly. But this one bl<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ew my top figura<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">tively speaking. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8r8qv-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Di<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">d yo<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">u know <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">that <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">you can <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">eas<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ily <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">tell that </span></span></span>you cross over the border <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">from</span> Karnataka or Maha<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">rashtra<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> by the time you tak<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">e a<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">t the toll<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> booth. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Karnataka side to<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ll booth<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">s<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> (why do they have so<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> many of them<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">?)</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>sent you on your way <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">alway<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">s in less t<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">han 5 minutes even if the<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">y wer<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">e couple of windows s<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">hort of their <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Maharashtra <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">counterparts</span></span></span></span></span>. Ma<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">haras<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">htra toll booth<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">s would take about 10 minutes. Don't ask my why, just happened so. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> B<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ut then a<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">gain<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">, Karnataka <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">had more toll points<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">? Itna kya toll lerain b<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">awa? </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8r8qv-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Coming to the highwa<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ys </span>Both side <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">the roadways were <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">well <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">made <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ex<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ce<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">pt for some part of <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">the <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Maharashtra side where <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">there </span>was WIP. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>On the <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Mahar<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ashtra var<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ious sign boards <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">pleaded to keep <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">the roads clean per Swach Bharat Abh<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">yan, yet <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">folks </span>thr<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ew litter o<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ut<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">side the<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ir v<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">e<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">hicles<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> which then bounce of <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">windows and hoods of automobiles behind....Tch! Tch! Tch! No sense of care at all<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">. The Karnatak<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">a side hig<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">hways had no such bo<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ard but <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">t<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">here was no littering as well.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8r8qv-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Cafe coffee day and <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Kamath group of Hotels</span> see<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">me<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">d to do good busine<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ss<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> along <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">NH4 (AH<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">47)</span>.</span> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> How do they manage to keep the </span></span></span></span></span>loo <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">so clean and pristin<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">e. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Missed<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> them a lot (espec<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ially because of clean <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">loo) on the Ma<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">harashtra s<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ide. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Talking about</span> Pune and Bengaluru, the citiz<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">e<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">nry<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">of both cit<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ies wou<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ld be Kumbh mel<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">e mein bichd<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">e b<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">hai if the sole parameter w<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">as</span> to be traffic sense. Both sides <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">dr<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ive and ride e<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">qually cr<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">a<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">zy. Bengaluru a notch more I dare say. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">B</span>engaluru mein road <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">kiross <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ka<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">r<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">na <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">hai na bawa, tho <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">p<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ir Ola <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ya Uber bulao. Ok Ok! That was my Hyderabadi side exaggerating. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Look <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">at t<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">he<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ir brethren <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">in <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Chenna<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">i<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">;</span> Seem (operating word <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">is SEEM) </span>ver<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">y order</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>ly in main roads and go <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">moto-cross crazy in inner r<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">oa<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ds i.e. <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">if you can disting<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">uish bet<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ween the two. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>En chennai peepul, come to Pune for traini<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ng<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">.</span> W<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">a</span>it! Send your traffic p<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">olice for training <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">so that they can lea<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">rn how to do nothi<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ng wh<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">en people jump signals.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8r8qv-0-0" style="font-size: large;"><span data-text="true"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But why was Southe<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">rn railways tr<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ying to shove H<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">indi<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> into the minds of <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Chennai folks with "One hindi word a day<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">". Ha<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">lf the chennai<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> p<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">opulation<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> (<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">C'mon Hyderaba<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">d<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">i ex<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">aggeration) <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">can beat you dry in Hindi examinations.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-39672990781456245992014-11-21T14:10:00.000+05:302017-06-20T22:15:43.385+05:30Lessons from an unexpected quarter - 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Date: Long long ago</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Location: Signal at Jehangir Hospital, Pune</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Teacher: Traffic police constable</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Twas a balmy summer morning and I was perspiring under my helmet, my hair seems to have plastered 15 minutes into the ride to work yet I was feeling exhilerated riding my bike-<a href="http://manikantannaren.blogspot.in/2010/12/anthology-of-two-wheels.html" target="_blank">Viru</a>. I had just run over a mobile phone of a person suffering from obtuse phoneckitis and feeling as satisfied after a tot of oldmonk and black coffee. I was nearing the signal just beside my workplace; the signal was green, I increase speed and making a mad rush(I know! sigh!). I reached a few meters from the junction, the light turns to amber when I throttled from ridiculous to ludicrous speed and crossed the signal just after the light turns red ( I still know, stupid right!?). Just outside my office gate, I get flagged by a portly, uniformed, tobacco crushing, head nodding to the right and yelling all the time "yae ikkde ikkde" traffic constable. At this point the universe was going "serves you right bugger". I manage to stop without hitting him, he gives me a look which deemed me lower than the lowest of life forms and pointed to the inspector standing by. He had already taken the key from Viru. I get down, put the bike on the stand and walk to the inspector who gives me a 1/2 a millisecond look and issues me a challan. I don't even remember the amount written on it. All this was the context. Now for the learning.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I yell why did you let others pass by and only get hold of me. Yeah! I still know I was being a jerk. This time the inspector gives me a 1 second look and returned to whatever he was doing. Twas as if he thought of me as a WOT-waste of time. As if on cue, the portly, uniformed, tobacco crushing, head nodding to the right and yelling all the time "yae ikkde ikkde" traffic constable takes over smoothly. I had already pumped myself to my pretend irate best and was not ready for what transpired next. The conversation went thus-</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Constable</b>: <span style="font-size: large;"><b>तुम हॉटेल में खाने जाते हो?</b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Do you go to a restaurant?</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Me</b>: <b><span style="font-size: large;">बहुत बार</span></b> । <span style="font-size: large;">( I was not married yet)</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Lots of times. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Constable</b>:<span style="font-size: large;"><b> मेनू में बहुत आइटम होंगेः नै ?</b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The menu must have listed a lot of items, isn't it?</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Me</b>: <span style="font-size: large;"><b>हाँ</b></span> <span style="font-size: large;">(All confused, where was this conversation going, I get my guard up. I still wasn't ready for the boom to be lowered)</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Yes</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Constable</b>: <span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>जितने आइटम है, सारे खाते हो की तुम चुन्नथे हो क्या खाना है?</b></span></span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Do you eat all the items listed or do you make a choice?</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">Now how does one beat that. I dropped all of my pretenses, calmly make my payment, get my keys, start my viru, get on it and go to work and my life.</span><i> </i></span></span></div>
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Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-71554696249131815352014-02-02T19:35:00.001+05:302014-02-02T19:37:00.323+05:30Lessons from an unexpected quarter - 1 <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Date: <i>Forgotten</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Location: <i>one of the many malls in Pune</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Teacher: <i>One of the security guards in a store in the mall.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>Story</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We had made some purchases in one store in the mall and we went to this cloth store where we deposited the bags containing our earlier purchases at the baggage check counter. We went in, shopped some and came out to claim our checked baggage. I gave the guard manning the baggage depository my "reminder token" (which I got when I deposited my bags earlier). He went searching in the beehive which was the "depository" and time passed (not more than a minute) and I was getting pensive when he return with some bags. He handed me a couple of bags (huge ones at that). I told him that these are not mine. He took a look at the reminder token and picked these bags and went back into the beehive. Another minute passes and he comes with my bags. I remarked that "If I had not noticed, I would have taken the wrong bags, but what would happen when the rightful owner turns up. He would have berated him and the seven generations before him with a bunch of colourful abuses. He looks me in the eye (did I see a twinkle in his eye) with a calm smile. After a long pause, he calmly and confidently say "Aisa nahi hoga saab" (Tis will not happen). I am now curious and ask him "aisa kyon nahi hoga"? Again he hypnotizes me with his gaze and the calm smile and replies. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>हम ग्राहक को भगवान मानते हैं| और भगवान हमारे सात ऐसा भरताव नहीं करेंगे| </b></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">English Translation : I consider EACH Customer to be GOD and GOD will not ill treat or abuse me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Lesson for me the customer/consumer: <i><b>I consider EACH customer to be GOD and GOD will not ill-treat or abuse me.</b></i></span><br />
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</i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>Lesson learnt and more importantly I hope I remember it when I need to.</i> <i><b> </b></i></span></div>
Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-60047201934210667702013-06-03T21:59:00.000+05:302017-06-20T22:18:12.041+05:30Lessons in liking music - Naandi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You can say that I belonged to a genteel poverty period where even a bicycle in the family was called prosperity. In such circumstances, the only music I ever heard in my childhood was boisterous singing from nearby hutments and such. I don't even remember the songs that they sang. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Long story short appa after much nagging by amma brought home a two-in-one. A two in my dear friends is a radio and cassette player bundled in the same black box. There were no other colors for be it a hand held transistor radio, a two in one or a table top transistor radio they were all black. With the black box we also got a packaged and bundled audio cassette. Yes only one cassette. Before the young 'uns ask what a casette is, the image below will help mind map. Now TDK was very popular recording media before T-series came into main stream. They were tough and durable.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f1/Tdkc60cassette.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f1/Tdkc60cassette.jpg" height="126" width="200" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Anyway back to our story of the packaged cassette. The songs were in english and GOD did not help me comprehend what was being sung. When I listen to the songs even today, I would be stumped if someone asked me to mouth the lyrics. Tis was an album by <span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giorgio_Moroder" target="_blank">Giorgio Moroder</a>.</span> Now who Mr. Moroder was or what the song was did not generate much interest in an eight year old's mind. For some reason though the music got stuck somewhere in the deep recess of the mind and stayed there. I even forgot Mr. Moroder's name or the cover of the cassette. The metallic and robotic rendition of I am left, you are right, she is gone just stuck in the brain and stubbornly stayed there. Later (sic.) or truthfully about a score years later, I remembered the album and the cover and googled for Mr. Moroder using the title "I am left, you are right, she's gone" and came to know that he is the god of Computer disco(old-world title for DJ mixes I suppose) and Daft Punk (God help me if I understood what that stood for). What more Shall I tell you, Mr. Moroder and the album "From Here to Eternity" was my first lesson in liking Music. </span></span></div>
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<br /><iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/HGrdbCpQCw0/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HGrdbCpQCw0?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/From_Here_to_Eternity_%28Giorgio_Moroder_song%29" title="From Here to Eternity (Giorgio Moroder song)">From Here to Eternity</a></span>" - 5:58</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Faster Than the Speed of Love" - 1:54</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Lost Angeles" - 2:44</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Utopia - Me Giorgio" - 3:24</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"From Here to Eternity (Reprise)" - 1:45</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"First Hand Experience in Second Hand Love" - 5:02</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"I'm Left, You're Right, She's Gone" - 5:08</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Too Hot to Handle" - 4:51</span></span></li>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In the album, From here to eternity was the more popular song, but I am left, you're right, she's gone will remain my favorite. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was alone at home( Best half and my little 'uns are in mumbai), I was feeling melancholic and bored. I went troweling through my stash (which my best half is yet to declare 'useless') and like a trophy I held aloft my cassette player and after that I could not find Mr. Moroder's cassette. That was a total disaster in fulfilling a wish. I mop around a little, trying to and hoping to find the cassette but to no avail. So I pour myself some rum (old monk what else) and black coffee, pick up my laptop, head to the bedroom terrace and listen to I am left, you're right, she's gone over and over again on youtube. Tis not as good as the cassette, but what the heck, the song to me is soul music. Whats your soul music?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">NOTE: </span></h3>
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<i>The word <span style="font-weight: normal;">Naandi</span> ( <span style="font-weight: normal;">नान्दी</span>) means beginning or the start </i></h3>
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Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0Pune, Maharashtra, India18.5204303 73.85674369999992518.2795348 73.534020199999929 18.7613258 74.17946719999992tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-20846891665698160232013-05-05T14:29:00.000+05:302013-05-05T14:41:46.935+05:30...And Pran<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This is my acclamation of an actor par excellence and there are others who will write better praise than me. My acclamation though focuses on my favorite Pran character - Ramesh Thakur in the Movie <span style="background-color: white;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0060310/plotsummary?ref_=tt_ov_pl" target="_blank">Dil Diya Dard Liya</a></span> <i>(took pain in exchange for heart)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I saw the said movie on Doordarshan a long time back and the character still sits in my mind, the vehemence, the hatred and the "look" he gives as he eyes Dilip Kumar's character as if he were the lowest of life forms. <i>Dilip kumar was consumed by those eyes.</i> As I watched the film, the grey cells in the back of my mind were churning "Which book is this story similar to?" I scratched and pondered all the while watching the movie. A few days later I was reading <span style="background-color: white;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wuthering_Heights" target="_blank">Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights</a></span> and then it stuck me that I saw a movie adapted from this story and I conveniently forgot the title of the film and there it was back in reverse, reading the book I kept trying to recollect the name of the film. All I knew was Pran playing Hindley Earnshaw with so great an elan that I waited to watch the film again just to watch Hindley Earnshaw brought to life by Pran. </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Tis was a period of technology ice age. There were no one in my very small circle of friends and acquaintances </span></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">in Hyderabad </span></span>who saw b&w hindi cinema and there was no internet to run a query on a search engine. And doordarshan was not very generous in replaying that film again. I waited for them to broadcast it again now that I knew the book and wanted to match frame and page. </span>There is a scene towards the middle where Dilip Kumar's Shankar (Raja saheb) asks for his love (Played by Waheeda Rehman) and towards the end of his suit, he says मैं तुमसे अपनी प्यार का भीक मांगता हूँ | (I beg you to give me my love)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The camera then pans to show Pran in close up and then draws away but still focussed on the eyes as they grow dark, pained and finally defiant. Ramesh Thakur (nee Pran) goes hysterical (and does nor recover after) and with a lot of glee and spiteful pleasure retorts</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> तुम हमेशा से सिर्फ भीक मांग सकते हो। तुम भिकारी ही रहोगे | (you will always remain a beggar) or something to that effect. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The above line is a long monologue and Pran's eyes are in sync with the dialogue as they do a deadly dance ranging from fear, defiance, contempt and finally doing the dance of victory and elation as Ramesh thakur realizes that even though he has lost everything, he still has power over Shankar (Raja Saheb) and he exercises the power to deny Shankar his love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After that scene bollywood takes over and spoils the film.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">C'est la Pran that stays with me since in later years Pran the actor was replaced by Pran the actor in not so great movies. Movies like Zanzeer, Victoria 203 and many other such stupid roles dented my awe and respect for the actor. But then along came two other movies (but none in class of Dil Diya aur Dard liya) <span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0216067/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1" target="_blank">Parichay</a></span></span> and <span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0049072/?ref_=fn_al_tt_2" target="_blank">Chori Chori</a></span></span>. They restored my faith in the actor par excellence and tis no wonder that the film credits would always go "And Pran"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When I am publishing this post, Pran was awarded the Dada saheb phalke award and I am sure the mandarins in our bureaucracy and news media (print and visual) would talk about the inconsequential roles and leave out Pran's pie la mode roles in the age of Black and white cinema... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: red;"><i>NOTE: The movies mentioned above are in the chronological order in which I watched them and not in the order of their release dates.</i></span> </span></div>
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Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-31940594866941025732013-01-25T20:15:00.004+05:302013-01-25T20:17:15.731+05:30Old Tales- Ramayanam in 7 Lines<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #38761d;"><b><i>DISCLAIMER:
I am not taking lessons in moral science or decrying any religion or
faith or beliefs, so please just ensure that you drink a a good quantity
of sense of humor before starting to read</i></b></span></span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">On the train from Pune to Hyderabad I noticed two children fighting for the window seat and that reminded me of a similar incident of mine. During that incident long back, my grandpa (mother's father) taught me a small shloka which remained etched in my mind. Don't know why it remained etched. Perhaps twas the melody with which he recited it, perhaps because he made me recite it time and again. The story around it was...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We were coming back from Pandalam, Kerala after school's summer vacation. Amma, my sister and me were being escorted by Thatha(grandpa). Back then train journeys were something we used to look forward to. Priya(Could not recollect calling her akka i.e. elder sister) and me would always fight for the windows seat. Like Aufbau's principle of electrons occupying energy levels in a first come first principle, whoever got into the train cubicle first would get the window seat. I was always second since amma would not let go of my hand and by corollary Priya would get the window seat. She would give me a smug smile which would make me go into tantrum mode. Thatha to console me would take hold of my hand and take me to the compartment door where we would stand a foot behind. It was not fun to watch "between two legs" the world go by. By legs I mean the chap who would be standing at the door smoking and spitting the cud from the betel leaf he would be chewing. So the pitch of my tantrum would raise a couple of notches and thatha would bring me back to the berth. To get a sleeping berth on the train back then was no mean achievement. Socialist regimes ensured that there were not enough rakes and trains to transport the 10 times greater number of people. But then again thatha was so respected that securing sleeping berths for all of us was child's play for him. The next fight was for the upper berth at sleeping time. Again Priya would win because I was toooooo small to sleep on a berth of my own. I would always be paired with somebody. Back then Pandalam, Kerala to Hyderabad was a three day journey by train which included a 6 hour wait at a station called Guntakal (or was it Ren<span style="font-size: large;">i</span>gunta?). At this station another train would couple the Kerala compartments from our train. So the six hour wait for the second train would kill all enthusiasm in a small child. So my tantrums must have reached an octave by now. Thatha then took me on his lap and taught me the shloka. The shloka in essence summarizes the Ramayana. he wrote the shloka in Tamil which I still don't know to read. He then started reciting it to me asking me repeat every syllable. By the end of the six hour wait, I knew the shloka by heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> The shloka summarize or explains what you can find in <b>The Ramayana</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have tried reproducing the shloka in Sanskrit (devanagiri script) in which I am pretty sure there are spelling mistakes. Tis has been a long time since I wrote Hindi.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">पूर्वम रामा तापोवानाती गमनं </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">वैदेही हरणं जटायू मरनम </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">सुग्रीव संभाषणं वालिनिर्दालानम </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">समुद्र तरनम लंकापुरी दहनं </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">तत्पश्चात रावण खुम्बकरा हननं </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">एदत्त रामायणं ||</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">For those of you who are devanagiri challenged, the shloka in English</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Purvam Rama Thapovanati Gamanam</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hatwa Mrigam Kanchanam</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Vaidehi Haranam, Jatayu Maranam</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sugriva Sambhashanam, Vali nirdalanam</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Samudra Taranam, Lankapuri dahanama,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Tat pashchat Ravana Khumbhakaran Hananam</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Eddath Ramayanam.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">I will attempt a translation what with my poor Sanskrit skills.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Long ago, Rama went to the forest </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">where he went hunting the goldent deer</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">in that time Seetha was kidnapped</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jatayu tried stopping and was killed</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Rama in search of Sita, crowns Sugria king after slaying Vali,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">The monkey army cross the ocean</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Raze Lanka</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">And finally Rama slays Khumbakarana and Ravana. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is what is described in the Ramayana </span></div>
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Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-21061803550067160762013-01-08T09:35:00.003+05:302013-01-08T10:09:46.467+05:30Old tales - Yudi feeding 8000 people everyday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #38761d;"><b><i>DISCLAIMER: I am not taking lessons in moral science or decrying any religion or faith or beliefs, so please just ensure that you drink a a good quantity of sense of humor before starting to read</i></b></span></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Long long ago, very long ago, so long ago, nobody knows how long ago, after the war at Kurukshetra Yudi is crowned king of sampurna Bharatavarsha (sum total India then) and he would pursue a habit he picked up during the time he and his brothers (pandavs) spent in exile. The habit was to feed 8000 (why 8000 people I am not sure) everyday. Imagine 8K hungry people would turn up at lunch time( I am assuming Lunch only) and Yudi as host would first wait for them to finish before gobbling his lunch. This fact of Yudi spread far and wide and inflated his ego so much so that his ego grew bigger than Godzilla and king kong stacked. Krishna in far of Dwaraka comes to know of this and he ponders "me thinks I will pay a visit to Yudi, his 8000 fame and his inflated ego. Just as Krishna was thinking this, Garuda comes along and says "Let<span style="font-size: large;">'s g</span>et moving, why the wait". So Krishna smiling hops on Garuda and off they flew towards Hastinapura. As would always happen, whenever Krishna came visiting people would throng for his darshan. After a couple of hours Bhimasena(Of the shaanth Gadadhari Bhim fame) would lose his patience and would take his mace and swing it a couple of times and create a path from Krishna to the guest palace. Krishna had a separate palace in Hastinapura (even though he dissuaded and disapproved of it) which was bigger and grander than Yudi the emperor's palace. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i> </i>The next day as usual Yudi would place host to <span style="font-size: large;">8</span>K folks waiting for lunch. As they stood watching Yudi asked Krishna, have you seen a grander sight than a king gain satisfaction watching his praja being fed. The pride was not to missed when he said it. Krishna smilingly asked permission of Yudi (since Yudi is emperor and Krishna was very particular about such protocols) to go visit his best friend who was waiting to have lunch with him. I will be staying here for sometime anyway. Yudi pestered him with "go tomorrow, but lunch with us today. Why do you insist on going today?" When suddenly he goes "whoa!!! Who is this best friend we have not heard of? I used to think that us Pandavas are your best friends". Krishna could have boasted, "I am Krishna, the Lord of the Cosmos", but no, he simply said "Oh! he is a simpleton whom I meet once every year down south. Would you like to come and meet him?" Now Yudi who was tickled by doubt, jealousy and even more by curiosity said yes. They hop on Garuda who by the way gave Yudi a cold steely look. They flew down south (now remember this is a lore) and in a few minutes landed in the place called Kerala today. When Mahabali saw Krishna, he came running overjoyed like a small child being offered candy. He prostrated before Krishna. K<span style="font-size: large;">rishna picked</span> him up and gave him a fraternal hug. Mahabali went into raptures and started singing paeans about Krishna, the lord of the Cosmos. By now Yudi got bored and was itching to know who this minstrel was and what made him Krishna's best friend.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i> </i>After about three or four songs (as per south Indian mythology movie standards) Mahabali again prostrates in front of Krishna. Krishna picks him up and bids him "Mahabali, my friend, my best friend a very Happy ONAM to you". On hearing this Mahabali became ecstatic and prostrated again. After some more prostrating, hugs and songs, Mahabali notices Yudi and became very apolegetic. "Ayya forgive me, this is a lapse on my part for not noticing you earlier. A guest is the Lord in disguise and I have not noticed you. Please forgive me." He was very earnest when he said this while Yudi was both curious and bored to notice the breach of protocol. All the time Yudi was thinking; "OK he is a big fanatic of Krishna and his bhakti is <i>apaar</i>, So how does that make him Krishna's best friend." </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> All this time, Krishna was aware of the turmoil in Yudi's mind, but naughty as he was he let it play for some more time till Mahabali noticed Yudi. Yudi, you know about the grandson of Prahalada who donated me three steps of territory. Well this is Mahabali, who comes to visit Kerala every year on O<span style="font-size: large;">NAM</span>. Mahabali interrupted, and again started a song about Krishna. Yudi now got very irritated and turned towards Krishna and waited for him to complete the introductions. Krishna turned towards Mahabali and said "Yudi is the grand emperor of sampurna Bharatavarsha. His greatness has spread far and wide. So much so that many people are mirroring his habit of feeding people everyday. He alone feeds <span style="font-size: large;">8</span>000 people every day. People sing songs of his greatness everywhere. Krishna went on and on about how this practice ensured that people would not stay hungry and that they would get at least one sumptuous meal everyday." By now, they were seated under a banyan tree surrounded by the bounty of nature partaking a <span style="font-size: large;">ONAM sadhya together</span>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Yudi bore a proud mien during this discourse which extolled his greatness in feeding <span style="font-size: large;">8</span>000 people everyday while Mahabali lost all his child like happiness and became sombre and thoughtful.<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>Mahabali very agitated and embarassed because of the thoughts running through him broke another protocol of not seeking permission before breaking from a group <span style="font-size: large;">meal</span>. He just got up and walked away to sooth this ruffled pili and emotions. He returned soon and prostrated in front of Krishna and Yudi and sought their forgiveness for his yet another breach of protocol. He folded his hands and sought their attention and said </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> "Ayya I seek your forgiveness for what I am going to ask and say now. Lord! Parandhama! Mokshkunda! How is feeding <span style="font-size: large;">8</span>000 people greatness when it means that <span style="font-size: large;">8</span>000 people have no other way of feeding themselves. Lord<span style="font-size: large;">! Y</span>ou know how for my yagna's and homams I would find it difficult to find even one person in all the three worlds who would accept my grants and bhiksha. The lord also knows that in my final yagna, people were aghast when you came and asked for three steps of territory since it was considered a shame to ASK for anything. Ayya! forgive me but feeding <span style="font-size: large;">8</span>000 people means that either there is not sufficient means of earning or people in Bharatavarsha no longer value the the greatness of working and of being empowered. Ayya! Forgive me, tis not greatness but a real shame when the king has to provide food instead of empowering the praja to get their own food. Ah! People of Bharatavarsha how low have you fallen?". BY now Mahabali was running <span style="font-size: large;">tears so much that they rivalled the Gautami and Godavari<span style="font-size: large;"> rivers in their flow</span></span>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> The lord smiled, Yudi was speechless. He regained his composure and prostrated in front of Mahabali and said "Mahabali! Krishnamsara! You have opened my eyes. Devakisuta, my friend! I thank you for opening my eyes. I will rectify the situation immediately. As if on cue, Garuda presented himself for the journey back home.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">EPI</span>LOGUE: Last time it was checked, Yudi failed in rectifying the situation. People still wait for the ruler to dole out stuff.</b> </span></span></div>
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Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0Ayyappa Swamy Temple, Endowment Colony, Ramanthapur, Hyderabad, Andhra Pradesh, India17.392527 78.533661599999959-17.84581 -4.0835259000000406 52.630864 161.15084909999996tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-6018940129169181492013-01-05T19:27:00.002+05:302013-01-05T21:29:52.933+05:30Old tales - The rishi and the cat<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I am startng a new topic series, the name of which just came to my mind after a conversation with my mama (amma's brother) during the wait at the hospital. The topic of discussion was "rituals in religion" and we both were arguing despite agreeing with each other(you think that is not possible, come see us arguing). so here goes the first tale in this series of old tales and stories. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #38761d;"><b><i>DISCLAIMER: I am not taking lessons in moral science or decrying any reli<span style="font-size: large;">gion or fa<span style="font-size: large;">ith or beliefs, so please just <span style="font-size: large;">ensure t<span style="font-size: large;">hat you drink a a good quantity of sense of humor <span style="font-size: large;">before starting to read</span></span></span></span></span></i></b></span></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>Long long ago, very long ago, so long ago, nobody knows how long ago,</i> a very well versed rishi went from village to village along with his travelling students. The rishi worshipped the fire god thrice a day and would spend time lovingly preparing the agnihotram(altar/fire pit), pouring ghee(clarified butter) and other offerings into the sacrificial fires. After his "personal" devotion he would impart wisdom to his students and also the villages who had gathered to have his darshan. Thus ran his routine, until they came to this village. Unfortunately the village's name is lost in history and poor translation. As was his wont, the rishi prepared the agni hotram, decorated it with rice flour and flowers which the villagers had brought and amidst vedic chants, lighted the fire when suddenly a cat bounded across the agni hotram disturbing the floral arrangements. He kept his patience and rearranged the agni hotram, when the cat bounded across again. This kept repeating a few times when the rishi paused his worship badly distracted and sought his disciples. The whole gathering was waiting some distance away not wanting to disturb his communion with the LORD of the GODS. The rishi called out to one of his disciples - Ananda! Ananda! please tie up this cat some where far away from here, but release it after my puja. The villagers noticed Ananda tying the cat behind the hut to a heavy stone mortar. Tis was the monsoons and the rishi would wait in the village for some time for the monsoon to end and everyday the villages would notice Ananda dutifully tie the cat to the stone mortar before the rishi began the puja. The villagers simple folks as they were did not understand the significance of the cat, the stone mortar and the ritual of tying the two together. Now stone mortars were a dozen for an anna (old Indian coin) where as cats were.... thats another story in economics. The demand for cats went up, people bought cats for the ritual of tying it up before the rishi started his puja. They would tie the cat at the mortars in their home and gather under the banyan tree near the rishi's ashram. Ananda dutifully ensured that his guru(preceptor's) communion with GOD was not disturbed. Through out the monsoon the villagers tied up cats and the rishi went about his business with GOD. The rains stopped, the rishi blessed the villagers and left on his further travels. Nobody knew what happend to him after that since he never passed by again. Nevertheless, the villagers learning by what they saw continued the ritual of "tie the cat before the puja". Soon enough, the actual purpose of the puja was lost, but "RELIGIOUSLY" cats were tied up to stone mortars. Then marketing and sales took over. Portable mortars and puja-only cats flooded the market. </span></span></div>
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Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-20829239717202514272012-11-19T10:48:00.001+05:302012-11-19T10:48:14.739+05:30I swung on a swing - after a long time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Twas a fine wintery sunny afternoon on the Sunday, the 18th of November 2012, My infants terrible made staying at home unbearable and we wanted to go out, the usual places were cut out since the city had decided to go to sleep( Dont know for how much longer). The city going to sleep was a blessing in disguise and the best half asked me to consider other options - long drive, go to a park/garden, Indian fast food stroll <i>(still cannot bring myself to call it junk food)</i>, go for a walk in the pleasant afternoon sun. Long drive was thrown outside the window, fast food stroll also went flying out. Was left to make a choice from two options, we decided to go to Empress garden. My son, Prataparudhra loves the place since it is not very crowded, there are numerous slides to enjoy, a couple of rides he likes; all in all he goes bonkers. Tara, my daughter likes anything outside the house since it is all new experiences. Padma, My best half likes to step out and stroll without having to worry about the kids since I am now in-charge of their well being in the public place. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> A fine park, lot of sun and shade and my son playing the slides again and again and again. I picked my li'l girl and looked around and at a distance I saw a vine hanging down forming a huge "U". In my mind a desire germinated. The grey cells started working overtime to bring back memories- memories of... <i>Aage ki kahani break ke baad. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i>A couple of hours passed and we were nearing the time when the park would close, I put my now sleeping Tara in the pram and went near the slide where Prataparudhra was playing and asked him - shall we go home? He as usual says Appa! One last time and he runs the slides a few times more- <i>last time is usually relative. </i>A few minutes later<i> </i>instead of the straight line towards the car park, I pushed the pram on a detour. Padma asks me "whats up!!!?" I dont answer and I move decidedly towards the vine hanging in the shape of a "U". The hanging vine brought back memories of childhood<i> </i>when I used to hang by low hanging branches of tamarind trees, of demolishing amma's sarees using which we used to make swings. Of running our of reach when she came at me with the broom or ladle whatever was handy -but most of all it brought back memories of swinging into the blue sky and back, every time I swung down and back, it was always with the knowledge that I will be swing back and up into the blue sky and the sun rays kissing my face. Memories of then true freedom and bravado without a care in the world. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> I came out of my reminiscence when I reached the vine, I stopped the pram, applied the brakes and went to the vine, sat on it and swung. I swung higher and faster feeling the pure bliss. The BLISS of a child all over again and again. Padma did not stop me or even asked "how much longer", she just waited for me to stop and get off the vine. After a few minutes passed, I stopped and got off. As soon as I got off, Padma hopped on to it and she swung. She was radiating happiness when she got of the vine. I hopped on again and swung at a leisurely pace. By now a crowd had gathered to see the sight of a grown up swinging from a tree vine. I ignored the glances. some dis-approving, some nodding, some waiting wistfully. I could not bring myself to get of the vine and become a responsibility burdened individual again. Swing and swing free was all that was going in my mind. By now dusk was advancing and Tara was fidgeting in the pram. The security fella came over gave me some verbal advice against behaving "childishly" and sent me off towards the car park. The swinging from the vine reminded me that R L Stevenson wrote a poem on that topic. We reached home and I first browsed my books collections to see if I have the poem. This poem was part of my English syllabi during school. I searched in vain for the text when Padma asked me "why don't you search the internet instead of mopping the floor?" OK sound advice and I found the poem which for you dear reader, I have pasted below.</span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork">How do you like to go up in a swing, </span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork">Up in the air so blue? </span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork">Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing </span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork">Ever a child can do! </span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork"></span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork">Up in the air and over the wall, </span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork">Till I can see so wide, </span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork">River and trees and cattle and all </span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork">Over the countryside-- </span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork"></span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork">Till I look down on the garden green, </span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork">Down on the roof so brown-- </span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork">Up in the air I go flying again, </span><br /><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork">Up in the air and down! </span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/CreativeWork"><b>-Robert Louis Stevenson</b> </span></span></div>
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Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0Prince of Wales Dr, Kavade Mala, Ghorpadi Goan, Pune, Maharashtra, India18.5122047 73.898136818.508440200000003 73.8932013 18.5159692 73.9030723tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-5676966478507117422012-10-02T17:42:00.000+05:302014-02-02T19:19:04.736+05:30Desire can lead to embarassment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Since a few days, I was drawn to images of a particular watch from the handicraft watch works of Ulysse Nardin. To be sure I did not hear of this watch maker before. The watch under the name El Toro was very exquisitely designed and the more I saw it the more I wanted it, but I was not sure of the brand. Little did I know that I was worried about the wrong thing. </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.ulysse-nardin.com/en/swiss_watch_manufacturer/Collection/Nifty___Functional/Perpetual_Calendars/El_Toro___Black_Toro/326-01LE.html" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.ulysse-nardin.com/ulysse-nardin-webseite13/uploadfiles/381efaf/da7beb62-e44a-4dee-b494-c59b41a3d240.jpg" height="640" width="369" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The first thing that caught my eye was the blue leather strap. That itself should have indicated the beauty's worth. But no, the mind would not accept, I was still thinking I can buy this. The second feature that kindled my desire was the "automatic"or self-winding mechanism. I dont know why, but I am enamoured by such watches and I already posses two automatic watches. Any way back to El Toro, the exquisite desire of mine. My best half saw me a couple of times drooling over the images. She suggested "lets procure the desire". And then we started speculating how much would the desire set us back. I very very confidently(idiot) put a cap saying that it would not cost us more than thirty thousand Indian rupees. The Universe which usually conspires to make me happy must have been dancing in mirth thinking "this dhakkan deserves this." And then I checked which store in Pune stocks this - C T Pundole is an excellent watch store and the sales people know the stuff they peddle. Anyway I thought, if tis CT Pundole selling, I can walk with the magazine image and ask straight without any hassle. So I walked in and was accosted by a smiling cherubic sales person who cheerfully asked me what do I desire. I showed the print and he exclaimed aah! We dont stock this, we procure on demand only. My heart sank into the ground. This could only mean my pocket was not deep or colloquially speaking - mere paas chaddi nahin thi". But still, I would not give up, let me ask for the price, just might be possible that it would not be very expensive(Universe started dancing again). The cherub of a sales chap, took the magazine print from me, disappeared somewhere asking me to wait. I waited with abated breath(one of my friends would say <u>balls in the mouth</u>) hoping against the universe. A few minutes which seemed an eon passed and the cherub came near me with an embarrassed look and whispered in my ears in hindi - sir aaa. aa, aa,a 15 laakh hoga. I felt the world go still as my jaw dropped, and this time I could see the universe dancing. I was covered in red shame, embarrassed beyond redemption. I shuffled as fast I could out of CT Pundole. I felt as if everyone there were looking at me and laughing at me (as if they had nothing better to do). My best half followed me sedately tugging my son and carrying my daughter along. We got in the car. I drove home towards home in stony silence. My best half made some tea and then as I sipped the tea, I went over all that happened and just burst out laughing and then I could not stop laughing. I would have gone on a laughing spree if this were to happen to anybody else. But when it happened with me, I went through embarrassment, then indignation and then and only then could I get to the laugh at myself stage. Each time I went over it, I would end up laughing at me. Someday I would raise my chaddi high enough to get an El Toro, but would I want it then. I will let "SAMAY" answer that doubt.</span></span></div>
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Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-82557612301166234742012-03-16T14:27:00.002+05:302013-04-21T17:16:45.849+05:30Incident of the Pharmacist/Chemist<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;">My son falls sick and so we go to the doc, doc prescribes syrups. So far so good. Son throws up everything he eats or drinks. I Call the doctor who prescribes ONDEM syrup to prevent throwing up. This is where the fun begins </span></div>
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I rush to the pharmacist- the air is hot and fetid and a couple of fans are whirring. These fans played a very important role in my life today. </div>
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<b>Me:</b> Ek ONDEM. dena (Give me an ONDEM)</div>
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<b>Pharmacisit :</b> (whips up a box) "kitne Chahiye" (How many do you need) </div>
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<b>Me: </b>(Confused) Bas Ek (only one).</div>
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<b>Pharmacist:</b> Passes me flat box </div>
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<b>Me:</b> (without paying attention) Syrup nahi hai kya (Dont you have the syrup)</div>
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<b>Pharmacist:</b> kaunsa flavour (which flavour?)</div>
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<i>Flavour bloody hell - what flavor for a medicine which prevents throwing up your guts. </i></div>
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<b>Me: </b>Now still confused (i am still not paying attention to the box in my hand) - kitne flavour mein aate hain (how many flavours does it come in)</div>
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<b>Pharmacist: </b>Shows me three different boxes </div>
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<b>Me: </b>(Shocked) I check the box in my hand. Oh! Lord of all Gods!!! </div>
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This dhakkan of a (fool of a) pharmacist understood me totally wrong. I asked for ONDEM , he heard CONDEM and had passed me a pack of "Moods"</div>
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Bloody hell verbal communication sucks. </div>
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Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-16110645735013332092012-01-07T17:20:00.001+05:302012-01-08T10:15:54.425+05:30A dad is born... Again<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2S992wcSzmtPhoo4OezqEQLT21iOKapHTTdA9VpJYjq-aV_rRcGc6nXB4-vRnFmwlH9QV1Bpq9U2tpX_uqNi_YoFnUU7Ar562Gy-LJepikxrP7vGGOKpr_hPT6y8S8cPjFS_/s1600/cutesatan.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>Life has come a full circle in a short span of 5 years (boy it does seem a long time) when I got married to Paddu, whom I came to knowing only after the marriage was fixed (typical Indian style) and we had no definitive detailed plans of the future. The first transformation in our lives was when I was reborn as a dad (please read the first <a href="http://manikantannaren.blogspot.com/2007/12/dad-is-born.html" target="_blank">"a dad is born"</a>) and four years later I am born again as a dad. I thought that things would be different this time now that I have experience. But always the Universe conspired against me to make me happy in its own way. The waiting filled the time for the last few days. In anticipation of our second child, I finally stopped procrastinating and bought a car without knowing how to drive it. so off to car driving school to fill that competency gap. Then in the last month of pregnancy, I drop Paddu, my best half and <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2S992wcSzmtPhoo4OezqEQLT21iOKapHTTdA9VpJYjq-aV_rRcGc6nXB4-vRnFmwlH9QV1Bpq9U2tpX_uqNi_YoFnUU7Ar562Gy-LJepikxrP7vGGOKpr_hPT6y8S8cPjFS_/s1600/cutesatan.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2S992wcSzmtPhoo4OezqEQLT21iOKapHTTdA9VpJYjq-aV_rRcGc6nXB4-vRnFmwlH9QV1Bpq9U2tpX_uqNi_YoFnUU7Ar562Gy-LJepikxrP7vGGOKpr_hPT6y8S8cPjFS_/s1600/cutesatan.png" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Prataparudhra, the apple of my eye at her mother's home in Mumbai while I stayed put in Pune. Please trust me this was her decision. I did not decide that. I fought that decision of hers, but like always she could win me over with impeccable logic-tis warmer in Mumbai during the winter months. My son is excited that he would get a baby brother(Could not understand why not sister?). Maire my colleague and friend wagers that because of all my sins in this birth, I will be blessed with another boy who will also make me dance to his tunes. The good doctor advices Caesarian again. But this time we have the luxury of deciding dates and this was a bad luxury as it turned out since the universe again conspired to rip apart our perfect plan for a birth on a perfect date (by the alignment of stars and planets). The doctor could not fit on said date and gave us 7th Jan 2012 as an option. By this time I had enough of star, planetary alignment from every other quack-anstronomers and their dog that I said YES. 7th is good. So drive down to Mumbai on my classic 500. You can start sniggering. The ass has a car and he went by motorcycle. You see sniggering people, this was a reconnaissance trip to learn the route from my home to my in-laws' home and Mumbai being what it is, a mayhem of people, I ventured to go by bike. I get my Paddu admitted in hospital and Through the evening and into the night I kept reassuring my son that Mamma is alright, she will be coming home soon, you will be taking care of the new baby and all the bullshit. I guess he realized that too because he said, take me with you to the hospital and promptly went to sleep. Then dawn came rosy cheeked and awoke me. I get ready and go to the hospital and wait for the doc.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">1. The anesthesiologist comes </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">2. The doctor comes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">3. my best half is rolled into the OT</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">4. The door is shut on my face. The good doctor refuses to let me stand</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">5. I grab 40 winks when I hear a new born baby's banshee scream</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">6. I run to the OT door waiting expectantly with my in-laws thinking the door would open now and I will get a bundle of joy in my hands.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">7. Bloody universe still conspiring.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">8. Not knowing what to do, I start to bang my head rhythmically on the door hoping then at least some on will take notice that people are awaiting, but none of this could melt their heart of stone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">9. All this time I could hear the baby screaming and screaming.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">10. 50 Minutes later, the door opens and a nurse comes out to say - pay the </span><span style="font-size: small;">anesthesiologist. I draw my last reserves of patience and ask in a rising crescendo how is the mother, how is the baby. Is it a boy or girl? Thank you very much. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">11. The good </span><span style="font-size: small;">anesthesiologist </span><span style="font-size: small;">comes out and tells us- baby girl, mom and baby are fine. We have a princess. We have a princess. Prataparudhra would be disappointed, but he would come over it.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG69DE3qHyCQuyB8pUAfQBnKY7WuKr2VL8324kDMlToFuMiTlJJ1xV6mmzMCen4vU_Mn5ukV_KAMofQFvgT-kfUEkcz5kHYaqSbBYGjsJVRTPyDvzX6-nILmmEzEhSvNpBS7A1/s1600/Photo1152.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG69DE3qHyCQuyB8pUAfQBnKY7WuKr2VL8324kDMlToFuMiTlJJ1xV6mmzMCen4vU_Mn5ukV_KAMofQFvgT-kfUEkcz5kHYaqSbBYGjsJVRTPyDvzX6-nILmmEzEhSvNpBS7A1/s200/Photo1152.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: small;">After the euphoria settled, I went in search of the nurse who was the target of my anger and apologized, the arrival of my princess will not be marred by anger and hard feelings. The pediatrician comes to us gives us the baby stats. I thank her profusely and look at her expectantly like a little boy standing in the line for candy. She sees me and tells me to go in and pick my princess. I did not need to be told again. I ran in and took the little bundle which packs a whopping amount of joy and she yawned, she yawned in my hands. That did it and the dam broke and I let the tears of joy flow. Flow I said, na they were running like the godavari and krishna rivers and would not stop.My in laws were now used to seeing me with my eyes running rivers. I put her gently on the bed and kept staring at her. She opened her eyes, saw me(:P saw me) and went back to sleep again. I crooned some thing to her, tucked her wrap around her as she slept</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This is not exactly the best of a post rather it is just rambling running thoughts that are still running through my mind.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So what will we name her -</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This time my paddu did not let me choose names from History, so I turned to faith and belief in the hindu pantheon of goddesses and came up with two names; one starting with K and the other with T. We ran into a disagreement with regards to the name and so we are doing a blind voting with the members of the family. Dear reader, I will come up with the name which won through the voting. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">8Th jan 2012:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">the voting results are out. "T" won hands down. The universe conspired against us to make us happy yet again. So what is the name we chos? This is my blog and I will script it out my way. I looked at history again to give me a name for my princess and a princess needs a queenly name, but paddu stumps me and says "why not a godly name" so I fall back on my second object of intense reading, Ancient Indian thought and philosophy. This sphere of reading took me not just through Indian philosophy, but also Tibetan and Mahayana philosophy. I felt that since my super god is Lord Rudhra after whom I named my Son, I will name my daughter after my super godess, the MOTHER. By this time I had read <a href="http://www.flipkart.com/books/8171673430?_l=z0zreNTXOpiPJsqCSh1kaQ--&_r=rE5g6kUnMAaCRPr73U%20l%20A--&ref=4c54ad98-07b8-47b5-a5d9-ec756c1b74d9" target="_blank">Aghora by Dr. Svaboda </a>quite a few times and two names stuck out as a strong affliation to the great MOTHER- Kundalini and Tara. The voting decided Tara as the name. The goddess <b>Chinna Mastha Smashana Tara </b>is the great mother who directs the soul towards moksha or oneness with GOD. So my princess will henceforth be called Tara after the great MOTHER.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Cheers</span></span></div>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com10Vile Parle East, Mumbai, Maharashtra, India19.088197 72.85763619.058186000000003 72.818153999999993 19.118208 72.897118tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-30292793983068939422011-11-07T11:29:00.006+05:302021-09-30T15:56:00.175+05:30Much ado about Coffee<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span face="Verdana,sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"><span>Yesterday's <a href="http://draft.blogger.com/goog_1615084864" style="background-color: white;">Sunday </a></span></span><span face="Verdana,sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.indianexpress.com/news/reading-tea-leaves/871338/2" style="background-color: white;" target="_blank">eye of the Indian Express carried an article about Tea</a><span style="background-color: white;"> </span>where the author boasted that coffee is just to pass the time where as tea is a culture or something like that. My first reaction as a tambrahm was indignation and then a ruthless articulation "what would a person north of the Godavari know about Coffee". But then again I thought over my words and pitied me over my indignation. The author was right about how I make tea. Just pile on everything and bring to a boil, strain and pour out in cups. I thank you sir for helping me know my ignorance in making tea. But when coming to making coffee, that for me is religion. Lovingly wash the filter (not your electrical contraption), a simple stainless steel affair which resembles a mini grain silo. Heat the strainer gently to clear the holes, dole out coffee powder measured to the last grain and tamp it gently. pour boiling water into it and let it drain through the filter. That my dear friends is how my day starts. My God in his pooja room has to wait till I finish this ritual first (I found god even in coffee, so that he could not complain). The next step in making coffee is pouring milk and sugar. How much milk and how much sugar. well that depends on how much coffee you would want to drink My first tumbler of the day is 200ML (Yes I measured it). Pour a little decoction/dikashan) from the filter (it should be still warm), taste a little (should taste like dark choclate, not dairy maik). Pour milk and the liquid mixture should turn from sepia to a shade darker than beige. Add sugar (not to make it sticky sweet). The flavor of coffee is bitter-sweet not sweet-very sweet-sticky sweet. Then add a little more decoction to bring the color to a shade of brown which resembles dark and white chocolate mixed in equal ratio. Mind you please use fresh hot milk not reheated milk. The contraption in my office dispenses with this need, the milk is just plain dispensed.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> <span face="Verdana,sans-serif">Pour it out in a broad tumbler, pick up a book and over to my study where I spend half hour with coffee and text. I would have enjoyed a smoke along with that but dear best-half had ensured that I never smoked at home (thankful for that injunction) and I also quit smoking. The thing about the first tumbler of coffee for me is the cool air around me, the very bitter-less sweet taste of coffee takes me to the seventh heaven riding on the ninth cloud, breathing in the quintessence of coffee</span>. <span face="Verdana,sans-serif">During the time I spend with my morning coffee, I am left undisturbed by my son and best half. After marriage my best half understood my love for coffee and undertook to make my morning coffee. </span><span face="Verdana,sans-serif">She like the author in Sunday Eye was a tea aficionado</span><span face="Verdana,sans-serif"> and was not particularly interested in coffee. In the beginning I was ungratefully critical of the output, but she put in patient effort to make it right every day and every time. Looking back I regret all the criticism I heaped on her earlier efforts . She now makes excellent coffee which I cannot find fault with. I was gifted an electrical percolator for our wedding which I use for mixing with my favorite poison - dark rum. But my morning coffee will never be insulted by being made in this contraption. I have drunk coffee at establishments like cafe coffee day, Costa, Barista and such. They can brew different coffee from aroun the world but still they would be fish out of water if they attempt a tambrahm coffee. They cannot and will not be able to match the exacting standards of Saravana Bhavan in Chennai or the erstwhile Gayatri hotel (Sob sob sob) in Hyderabad or Bombay Anand Bhavan in Secunderabad when it comes to making a tambrahm coffee. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span face="Verdana,sans-serif">Recommendations</span></i></span></div>
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Movie with coffee: <a href="http://www.google.co.in/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=jim%20jarmusch%2Bcoffee%20and%20cigarettes&source=web&cd=2&ved=0CDAQFjAB&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.imdb.com%2Ftitle%2Ftt0379217%2F&ei=im63TuTYLcGsiAeEpKDzCQ&usg=AFQjCNETYOLGQ477YFOiC_-ZKv9_enLe3A&sig2=-EJLeKHSXBtBl4rmY7oVdA&cad=rja" style="background-color: white;" target="_blank">Jim jarmusch's coffee and cigarettes</a></span></div>
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<span face="Verdana,sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Book with Coffee: <a href="http://www.flipkart.com/books/0140109412?pid=uow3f9ipmc&_l=CJHVEqJO3veuHytbACc9dw--&_r=UP7WNq3d6asscKAqBD300A--&ref=2b5c2ede-f96b-4e62-af9f-53966a1ecbb4" style="background-color: white;" target="_blank">R K Narayan's Dateless diary especially the section which covers black and white (humph!) coffee</a></span></div>
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<span face="Verdana,sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Liquor with coffee: Dark Rum (Old monk and especially contessa)</span></div>
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<span face="Verdana,sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Pondering with Coffee: Don't ponder. Enjoy the quintessences of coffee</span></div>
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<span face="Verdana,sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Music with coffee: M S Subbalaxmi/D K Pattammal, Pt. Jasraj, Vivaldi's Four seasons, Carmina Burana O Furtuna, William Tell. </span></div>
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<span face="Verdana,sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Best Company to spend coffee time: Who else but the person with whom you want to spend the rest of your life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What coffee not to have - Any instant coffee. <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span face="Verdana,sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Coffee powder to water ration: 3 tbsps coffee tamped and pour 150-200 ml of boiling water in the filter. If the decoction has not strained in 15-20 minutes. you have tamped too hard. poke with a fork gently so as to not distrub the coffee and water standing in the filter.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span face="Verdana,sans-serif">NOTE: I am grateful to the Muslim saint Baba Buden ( I am not sure of the spelling, so please forgive my ignorance) for bringing coffee to India and my parents for starting me on coffee when I was quite young.</span></b></span></div>
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</div>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com1Pune, Maharashtra, India18.5204303 73.856743718.3999798 73.6988152 18.6408808 74.014672199999993tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-88701685090630342862011-11-02T11:51:00.001+05:302011-11-02T19:29:10.227+05:30The day I almost met the Dalai Lama<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">A couple of days back I was watching two day old episodes of the food series - Master Chef Australia when lo and behold, I get to see the Dalai Lama which made me nostalgic and reminiscence about the past. </span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Tis was 1997 and I was just out of college, job less, self-respect had reached the nadir, my worth in societal eyes was zero and I learnt from The Hindu that the Dalai Lama would be coming to Hyderabad for the installation of the massive Buddha statue.It later transpired that he did not consecrate the statue (that happened much later in this post). I read about the Dalai Lama a few day earlier in the Reader's Digest magazine and was much impressed by his fight against the Chinese. He is also one of the reasons why I have some respect for Nehru. When the Dalai Lama rode into India, Nehru gave him sanctuary much against the political wisdom of those times. Some say this act of Nehru ensured the Sino-India war actually took place. I have neither the information nor the bias to say anything about that war. Anyway back to the Dalai Lama. I wanted to see the Dalai Lama when he came to Hyderabad. Now to do that I needed some transport money and hence went to ask my amma and she ticked me off with a good word lashing. Any way, I managed to sneak out old newspapers, sold them for the fare and went to see the Dalai Lama. Murphy ensured that "everything goes wrong". I took the wrong bus, went to the wrong place and trudged 4 Kms to see the Dalai lama and by the time I reached the venue, the Dalai Lama had left. On the journey back home, disappointed and weary with thirst, I pondered on why I wanted to see him. What did I hope to achieve. I still am pondering. Fast forward to 2nd January 2006, the Dalai Lama was going to consecrate the Buddha statue. This time I was not in hell's hole. I was earning comfortably and was the master of my ship. I booked myself on a bus from Pune to Hyderabad on 30th December 2005, put an action plan to meet the seer and was quite happy with the thought that I was going to meet the Dalai Lama. On D-Day I left home early (my mom didn't bother asking where was I off to) so that I could grab a good place. Reaching the venue, I noticed it was filled with people, careful probing and questioning revealed that most of them were "babus" who were to ensure that protocol was not breached. Whose protocol I still am not sure. Anyway I sat myself down and waited, waited, waited and then I got a glimpse of the seer. I tried to nudge closer but the security personnel ensured that I did not breach protocol. I moved slightly away, managed to get closer to the cordon, close enough to touch him and waited with abated breath. Then I managed to go into a time warp and ponder "why am I doing this?". I finally got out of the warp with the realization that it was just a whim. By the time the warp closed, the Dalai Lama was on the boat going towards the statue. </span></i><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Back to 2011 and Master chef Australia. The cooking was good, The seer did exactly as seers do-bless everyone and everything and <b><i>I am still pondering why did I want to meet the Dalai Lama</i></b></span></div>
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</div>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com1Pune, Maharashtra, India18.5204303 73.856743718.3999798 73.6988152 18.6408808 74.014672199999993tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-46672646033621001242010-12-16T17:30:00.005+05:302012-04-11T20:46:46.135+05:30Anthology of two wheels<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3jyWBFUJsakOiVlLC-DMiDGpfmIOsOftvdG-rpwvymndG7f2YMdh_dIN04vqyOJdeW5nNBwjFKiRHejolskaPJhP5_Kw6PoXrp3TQRTrg9XkaADBoJXyqgA34wi5RzEaTTWqN/s1600/tvs-xl.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3jyWBFUJsakOiVlLC-DMiDGpfmIOsOftvdG-rpwvymndG7f2YMdh_dIN04vqyOJdeW5nNBwjFKiRHejolskaPJhP5_Kw6PoXrp3TQRTrg9XkaADBoJXyqgA34wi5RzEaTTWqN/s400/tvs-xl.gif" width="400" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I belong to an age where possessing a cycle was a sign of prosperity. Back then to be called really rich - one had to posses a car; one of the two models, the aunty (Ambassador) or the kid (Premier padmini). Two wheelers were a rarity on the roads and then again most of them were either a 50cc affair or a bajaj scooter. Appa then bought a 50cc affair called the TVS50 XL model. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">TVS is to South india what Bajaj was for the north of the Godavari river. Looking at the image today I wonder how the four of us fit on to it and zoomed around. Time flowed and appa bought me a bicycle - not your fancy multi-geared multi colored contraption. A simple device which took me from point A to point B. Through junior college and sometime after I was pedaling away or most times to save energy held onto locking chains hanging from the rear of any truck or turn goofy and hold a friend's hand who was riding pillion on a scooter. Race against smoke spewing buses (if you don't want the smoke in your face, you have to rush past) </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeR0zKezt5cEtkP3__NLqvZxqgUNogiifjxu3wK904cTfu_HxFeq8RBnhkaYh-Uf2tCBEVNxmmjiYGGAVsEGytJF-n9AysNV_BIcXUljcvEso1LOXmMP7l9MsoHiZZNB4prlTw/s400/hero-bicycle.jpg" width="400" /> </span><span id="goog_946850761" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Children today would look at this and exclaim - "But this has nothing in it to provide an experience". I don't want to sound a reverse snob, but in our times we defined experience by our effort and not dictated by a contraption. Hummpppphhhh!!!. Signs of modernity I suppose. The mills of the gods grind at a very slow pace and appa procured through jugaad a Bajaj Scooter. Rahul Bajaj supposedly grinned at slow pace of production and arrogantly exclaimed that the people of India will wait for their scooter. I have been assured many times that this is an urban legend. You dear reader can decide what to believe. I care two toots of my bikes horn for the sordid details.</span></div>
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<span id="goog_946850761" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0mKD72dZ6oiYFou1ZvvHWz5offPSwcHXtKvWQ5IvSvDsE82-wSPU_zLNdwgBkJUZOGVtldNAb28wlih0Btj2x7dUCTVpNTKnYxXi15GNGocSotsTJdB-uhNhBlDwm3kEqP7d/s1600/Bajaj+Chetak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0mKD72dZ6oiYFou1ZvvHWz5offPSwcHXtKvWQ5IvSvDsE82-wSPU_zLNdwgBkJUZOGVtldNAb28wlih0Btj2x7dUCTVpNTKnYxXi15GNGocSotsTJdB-uhNhBlDwm3kEqP7d/s320/Bajaj+Chetak.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span id="goog_946850761" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And don't even start asking about colors. Looked like Mr. Bajaj took his color lessons from Mr. Henry Ford. Back then nobody really cared about colors what with the dirty green buses operated by the state government or the black or white amby or padmini which an occasional imaginative and resourceful person would get them painted in garish colors. Mind you we were still a two wheeler income family. A car was still out of our measly range. <i>(Dear reader, don't start and tell me that most families are still so. Stop grudging my hard work and efforts to get out of that range)</i>. But scooter compared better to a TVS 50 on the social scale. And a Bajaj chetak signaled that you have arrived. People would envy you as you zoomed;well actually trudged along the roads. Appa was never confident of driving fast and the roads ensured that you do not even think about speed. I coined my first gem at this time<b> - the shortest distance between two pot holes is called a road. </b>Around this time we did not even stop to think that there might be other two wheelers on the road, but mind you they were there. Not making a mark but still successfully transporting people - The Bajaj-M80 is the first zip drive(not your pants zip or storage devices) I can think of. Then there were others like Enfield Mofa (I bet dear reader you are trying to figure the wheels) Hero majestic, Kinetic Luna, Silver plus and a lot more.</span></div>
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<span id="goog_946850761" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>Some pictures</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Bajaj M80</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Hero Majestic</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Kinetic Luna</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Enfield Mofa- Touted 90KMpL</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Enfield Silver plus.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A teenager's desire</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As you see not much of a choice among bikes even in dreams. The mills of the gods kept turning and in one stroke I saw something which altered my choices and hence even dreams. - MOTORCYCLES - another few years from now we will stop seeing the likes of such. Rajdoot, mini rajdoot, Jawa, yezdi (names which make me drool in anticipation) Just riding pillion on one of these was a cathartic effect. Once we went to Chennai to my uncle's place and I saw the real first love of my life - A jawa motorcycle - ooooooh! the chrome, the thump of its engine and everything enthralled me. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Its gear lever doubling up as the kick-start for the bike, the big mud-flaps et al made it an object of desire. My uncle took me on a ride on the bike and I was head over heels on the sounds she made. Rev high, go on a high gear and let go of the accelarator and the sound would be like buuuddd!!!zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!Buhd and then again the same sequence till you hit the accelarator again. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYtSLIOo4dnRJSYCH52PVcu_jtK1BEjkk1m1T6VuzrVgKWtES8AXNXGZ69trkygzdRDVBG153Y44ugxB0cfISiOCEfn-J1GgB7vYMfvoOQRcDNwairfPPaBhxZzAJaloAU6MQ2/s1600/Rajdoot_Motorcycle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYtSLIOo4dnRJSYCH52PVcu_jtK1BEjkk1m1T6VuzrVgKWtES8AXNXGZ69trkygzdRDVBG153Y44ugxB0cfISiOCEfn-J1GgB7vYMfvoOQRcDNwairfPPaBhxZzAJaloAU6MQ2/s200/Rajdoot_Motorcycle.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The Rajdoot</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNgp04wSBB_-VgRDQWiIciyWTCEZ1MnbvsFSH_pEya0tjUS9ZxqY7ZUZfozvEHLMiH3B6rf-8e2QbEMlltgYoEfam-WDypTArWd0dtoO9cuPUPxPKxSKfKQq5lIz4rBANX9Wub/s1600/bobby-rajdoot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNgp04wSBB_-VgRDQWiIciyWTCEZ1MnbvsFSH_pEya0tjUS9ZxqY7ZUZfozvEHLMiH3B6rf-8e2QbEMlltgYoEfam-WDypTArWd0dtoO9cuPUPxPKxSKfKQq5lIz4rBANX9Wub/s200/bobby-rajdoot.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The mini-rajdoot made popular by</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> the movie - Bobby</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Now these beauties on the road were there long before I was as tall as them and so driving one was out of question. I moved into my teens and there were a couple of more brands on the roads and suddenly the roads were teeming with two wheelers. The age of transport-migration had begun. Leading the brand pack were there - Yamaha RX100, TVS Suzuki and Hero Honda CD100. We had television at home by now and a color tv at that-the brand is long lost and was called <b>Binatone.</b> On this invention we would see different ads and we were moved by the jingles and automatically we would choose our bikes by their jingle. I chose Yamaha! Well she had a nice tune to go with- <i>"Listen to the heart beat of the YAMAHA"</i>. She was a beauty.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Time passed. I went into serious studies, preparing and flunking examinations while my sister found a job and with her new found income she bought a beauty (well she was red in color). The TVS Champ. One of my friends called it "basanti'. As luck would have it, sister quit her job soon after and went for further studies. I was still figuring out "what am I doing here in this world". And Basanti de-facto </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">became </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">mine.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Within two months of this coming into my hands, I got the hooter removed and the rear brake lethargic and many a pillion rider have lost their wits riding behind me as I zipped in and out of traffic. At this stage of my confused life, the mills of the gods seemingly stopped especially for our family as we plunged into a crisis. we sold our house and also the champ. For a few miserable years we pulled along and my means of transportation were relegated to the two beautiful legs god gave me and the dinosaurs which the state run transport gave us. Jostling and butting, getting on and of the bus while it was running, raising tempers all added to the misery. Then the gods had mercy on </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">us and we were spared further depredations (moralists stay of). my sister came back from her studies, took up a new job and bought yet another gem - the Kinetic K4. This remained loyal to me until a year ago when appa in my absence sold it of(Poor thing was rusting at home).</span></div>
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</td> <td style="text-align: justify;" valign="top"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">My sister's luck with regards to automobiles ran out and she got married leaving the poor thing (which by the way I called Dhanno in honor of the horse from Sholay) an orphan. For 5 long years she served me faithfully. Came out stronger after surgery(met with a couple of accidents due do other jealous stupid gits). I moved to Pune from Hyderabad and took up a job and I was thinking why not buy one of my dreams. During my indecisiveness during this period, I saw a couple of monster gems on the road. They came from the stable of Royal Enfield Motors. The Bullet series. (kisses flying all over). In addition to the bike, the other road users were careful around them. The respect factor is massive. I wanted one and after a couple of inquiries I figured that I was not yet ready. Colloquially speaking "mere paas chaddi nahi thi".</span></td> </tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Ruefully I checked other options and found a bike more towards my liking and chaddi size. The Baja Pulsar DTSI. Now this mini-monster whom I christened Viru(make the link - Basanti-Dhanno) was my best bike till now.</span><br />
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</td> <td align="justify" valign="top"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">By now I came to understand a little about bikes. All they ask for is a little care and they serve for ever or as long as you find a better love. 5 long years Viru was with me and we faced weather and man together. Never once did Viru ever strand me (taang diya)</span></td> </tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I got married, am raising a son and in the midst of this I fulfilled my dream of buying one of the emperor's version. The Royal Enfield Classic 500. A dream come true. I raised my chaddi high enough to accumulate the necessary funds and procure my dream.</span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgam6f5rN8kol3bwNuufhLJNWqt4fDrVycqOeZVmkx9RuqGtpWLA4B-thETxnSZepOVk2_vxywh3lkoic4AM2wy3ytYOLSgd30vPxjvrBIx2YvkGsbiuByIRrty1gk5Obbl_Lgf/s1600/Yes+Tis+MIne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgam6f5rN8kol3bwNuufhLJNWqt4fDrVycqOeZVmkx9RuqGtpWLA4B-thETxnSZepOVk2_vxywh3lkoic4AM2wy3ytYOLSgd30vPxjvrBIx2YvkGsbiuByIRrty1gk5Obbl_Lgf/s400/Yes+Tis+MIne.jpg" width="400" /></span></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">This is mine and I am saying it so. My son, Prataparudhra is now three years and he staked a claim the very next day I brought the emperor home.Why did he do so? well it was his birthday. Driving on the emperor is a veritable pleasure. The respect from the other road users is immense. Fewer honkings and no one trying to edge you off the road. I also get to see the envy of other road users and feel happy about it.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I can go on and on about the emperor whom I have named - Pinaka after the great bow of my god, the supergod Shiva. This might turn out to be the last two wheeler I ever buy. I am also running out of names for them. I bought a car after procrastinating for years. But there would not be a story for the car because a car is well a car. The bullet is a "<b>statement</b>".</span></div>
</div>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com12Kondhwa Rd, Shivneri Nagar, Kondhwa Khurd, Pune, Maharashtra, India18.47903922016831 73.89026641845703118.471509220168311 73.880395918457026 18.48656922016831 73.900136918457036tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-83794662477923732422009-11-04T17:54:00.002+05:302009-11-04T17:59:29.311+05:30The people@SAS R&D INDIA PVT LTD - secunda parte- DRINKING binges<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhliQgFWNtclJmJWKbaavQ06NuZDkek4z-IYDzALDwN2VeE347Wh0jIaQLSXmcv4uZ8WGRt0xIYju3FRRrhYPLZ9AOHU3Xe1hf-5_lrWzOuffK2tgntHA2m0-QaMOs0sEyPtffW/s1600-h/18764731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL0Nf5RJ-S3PgFJtOs7IdyQ0fuFuP5GYNjOGzaQi_zExMCV43xyKpv6Yc8zQ80ftBwOX066X8B7L1whBPD4DCajMLpH-Dngtlzze7F_AtGMNU50-1L431FQm9KQUS3LYc7xMGW/s1600-h/untitled_bw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL0Nf5RJ-S3PgFJtOs7IdyQ0fuFuP5GYNjOGzaQi_zExMCV43xyKpv6Yc8zQ80ftBwOX066X8B7L1whBPD4DCajMLpH-Dngtlzze7F_AtGMNU50-1L431FQm9KQUS3LYc7xMGW/s400/untitled_bw.jpg" /></span></span></a><br />
</div><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Where were we. Oh! yes staying drunk. Folks do you remember the binge we had at Partha's place before he was to join the Cary office??? Wasn't that a blast. God I miss those kinds of binges. Then the different bachelor's party starting with No Beginning, no end fella- Anantha's. We went with something else in mind and reached a place in Pune camp(don't know why it is named so. Pune has many quirky names). This place; the ambience was bad, the liquor was good and the prices sky high and since Anantha was footing the bill, why would we care. By the time we split for the night, we were drunk for good and there was no need for "one for the road". Boy those were the days. After that binge, the team broke apart and we moved to Sakar place. Now here is where I went on many binges starting with my bachelor's party. Boy that party was a blast where we only drank, shouted hoarse and thankfully did not break anything. Venue was Sigri and as usual we always leave late. Chirag ali come along a lot later. I still don't know if he was already drunk by the time he came or he was play-acting. Sample this... Chirag comes and asks the steward to turn on the lights and poor chap he does that but the light points away from us. Chirag immediately turns on him and asks him "Kya dikhara re". Light is taraf kar. Tu bhi piya hua hai kya?". Anyway John schemes with the others and presents me a gift. If you know John, you would know what was the gift he zeroed in on. On seeing the package I knew instantly what it was - yes, a pictographic Kamasutra edition. "Ass**** (&()&^%^*($#$&@". Mahesh and usman ali wouldn't drink as usual. John completes his two-pegs, Anup and me and Partha (after three he is at his hysterical best) go on and on and on, so much so I could not know if I was sitting on the table or the chair. The banter I don't remember much, but it revolved around and around only one topic - How did I meet my fiance, how did I woo her with a lot of details of minutae thrown in </span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhliQgFWNtclJmJWKbaavQ06NuZDkek4z-IYDzALDwN2VeE347Wh0jIaQLSXmcv4uZ8WGRt0xIYju3FRRrhYPLZ9AOHU3Xe1hf-5_lrWzOuffK2tgntHA2m0-QaMOs0sEyPtffW/s1600-h/18764731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhliQgFWNtclJmJWKbaavQ06NuZDkek4z-IYDzALDwN2VeE347Wh0jIaQLSXmcv4uZ8WGRt0xIYju3FRRrhYPLZ9AOHU3Xe1hf-5_lrWzOuffK2tgntHA2m0-QaMOs0sEyPtffW/s200/18764731.jpg" /></span></span></a><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> . The bhadakaus around me would not relent in their persisting with questioning me. I am sure even my wife did not ask me so much. Sample this</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">John: Why do you like her?</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Me: Because she chose me.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Partha: Kya! sharm kar (followed by a hysterical laugh)</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Chirag: Typical laughter mixed with "Ladki tu hai ki who". Tujhe pasand karna hai, usko nahin. Tu aur ek peg peele. </span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Mahesh: Twirling a straw in his mocktail (he has been licking the rim for an hour now)</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Usman: Snapping photos from somewhere</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">John: Abhe saale, seeda seeda bol kyon pasand kiya. Aaltu phaltu jawab mat de(trying to imitate Sanjay Dutt in vastav) </span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Me: Nahin bolta ja (at my worst petulant imitation)</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Everybody together: ye kya baat hai, Tu aisa bolega to bhi ham nahin chodenge, tujhe batana padega, Hum log kay idar hilane ke liye aay kya and then started all the drunk gaalis. </span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So I relented and told them a few incidents just to keep them happy. God I miss those days.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After that more binges followed, some at Khyber(speciality is you can drink as much as you want, but you will have no after effects. Saala chadta hi nahi), some at Kapila, chuck wagon (now closed) and lots of other places. The topics would range from cribbing about work-place, pulling legs; always Seetha would be the prime target for this. The drinking gang would roughly be the same. The rest were all visitors. Navin's Bachelor's party was a thing to remember - the bill shot through the roof and we had to chip in to alleviate the pain. Navin do you still carry your schooling certifcates in the car instead of the vehicle documents?? He he ehe ehe he eh ehe eh e</span></span><br />
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</div><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This picture is taken when we were drinking and shouting hoarse on the night when India one the first T20 cup - read more at <a href="http://manikantannaren.blogspot.com/2007/09/india-are-world-20-20-champs.html">T20 Champs</a></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Wish there were more such pictures</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #d5a6bd;">KEEP DRINKING Fellas -</span><span style="background-color: red;"> </span></span></b></span><br />
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</div>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-49569328432454548742009-10-01T13:43:00.000+05:302009-10-01T13:43:09.730+05:30Dadhood and how- handling child's ill health<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am going to start this post with a rant against GOD. Why did you create illness along with angels? Why for God's sake why? When my son becomes ill, I am not sure who is affected more; him or us, his parents. Why GOD why? Were it not suffice you that we appreciate the beauty of your creations as is? Why? why? why?</span></span><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am not sure if I am not able to handle my child's ill health or does his ill-health disable me. I become so disoriented and lost that nothing gets done by me and even if I try I make a mess. But I learnt something in this ordeal - "</span></span><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">You can learn many things from children. How much patience you have, for instance and how much patience I can reap more". I proudly acknowledge that I have become more patient with him. When he was ill and blasted duty beckoned to me every morning, I was torn apart and wished I could be at both places at the same time. I am reminded of Golda meir - "At work, you think of the children you have left at home. At home, you think of the work you've left unfinished. Such a struggle is unleashed within yourself. Your heart is rent". A struggle which I much desire to leave, but alas cannot. During his ill-health days. Anxiety is your friend and does not leave your side-couple my anxiety with my wife's and I have many ill-friends at that moment. The day is spent with ministering medicines and watch him scowl first and then bawl with dislike due to the taste. Further anxiety since his appetite is ruined with the medicine intake and feeding him is a session in pain and sound. Pain because I have to force feed him, sound because he bawls with every mouthful. After a couple of bites he does not want more and spits out stuff pushed in. You collect that, keep it aside and try with another morsel. Keep repeating it till the discarded pile is big enough to frustrate you. Why God why? I keep looking forward to his being better again driving me mad with his cyclonic destruction of peace and order. <b>Blessed indeed am I that when I reach home, Prataprudhra beams me a smile, reaches for me desiring me to pick him up and gives me his cheek to kiss.</b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: small; line-height: 17px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><h1 style="color: #003399; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Give a little to love a child, and you get a great deal back</span></h1></b></span><br />
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</div>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0Lulla Nagar, Kondhwa, Pune, Maharashtra, India18.479018868859569 73.88977289199829118.478382868859569 73.888860891998291 18.479654868859569 73.890684891998291tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-75064055112150035872009-08-25T16:19:00.004+05:302009-09-16T20:20:59.893+05:30Dadhood and how - Managing my son<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_eGRRWG9_ZGg/SH8Kggtb57I/AAAAAAAADss/99vwz_msjcM/littlelucifer.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 155px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_eGRRWG9_ZGg/SH8Kggtb57I/AAAAAAAADss/99vwz_msjcM/littlelucifer.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As a father I soon realized that taking care of my son is not so easy matter after all. Doing it helped me understand how Padma, my wife abstract it from me day in day out. My hats of to every mother out there who does the same and to every dad who manages to do it. My son is a cuddly tyke and cyclone mingled into one. A week ago my wife took to the sick bed and what with the swine flu scare in Pune and the rains playing havoc with my son. He took to common cold. The ten days she was recovering from illness I was pinned at home. No working from home either. It was taking care of wife and kid. Those ten days showed me what housekeeping is with a cyclone in your midst. I admit I failed miserably in the attempt. All ten days i was feeling something or the other beneath my feet - biscuits, water, dosa, bread, grains, vessels, toys, clothes and lot more knick knacks. Cleaning will ensure that you only get more. I thought selling cigarettes, bar tending was back breaking work but actually they are nothing compared to taking care of your son. Oof! my back still hurts with the cleaning, picking up things, stopping him from throwing things out of the balcony. A few days back he threw a new bottle of oil out and I could only helplessly watch it fall and break; thankfully not on anybody's head. I did not know his timetable and wifey dear was out of commission to help me out and so it was all trial and error. Early morning milk ,10 AM breakfast cereal or cerelac, 1 PM lunch (typical south Indian) 4 PM - fruit, 6 PM evening milk, 9:00 PM - dinner only chappati (unleavened bread) mind you and nothing else. 11 PM bed time milk. For all these things you have to sit with him. Especially feeding him solids - he will take a bite and start goofing about, try to catch him, he skips and gives you a sly smile. Get hold of him it is all shrill thunder tearing my ears asunder. At bath time, it is a pleasure to watch him play with water and a frustration to get him away from the secrets inside the commode. But all of these frustrations vanish when he sleeps in your arms and when there is a draught blowing in, he curls and snuggles in my arms, I can only let the dam break and tears fall on their own. Tears of happiness.<br />He is yet to start talking and my wife is worried that he might have a talking problem or a listening problem, but I know (and I also know that I can never convince my wife) that he is alright because he responds to me quite well. He throws liquid down, I ask him to mop it up and he goes to the laundry, gets the mop cloth and mops the floor (not properly though). Before marriage I thought I had a theory about bringing up our child, after marriage, I have a child and no theory at all. I realise that raising kids by theories and philosophies is a big mistake.<br />Once Padma complained that Arudhra ignores her and I remembered Ogden Nash's opinion <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;">"</span></span></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Children aren't happy with nothing to ignore, And that's what parents were created for"</span> (Parents, 1933). When I dared mention it to her, all I got in return was being transparent to her for some time. In these ten days I was exasperated by him often but once I could take it no more and I gave him a rap on his bum with my palm. Boy did it hurt (me I mean to do it). The guilt haunts the living daylights out of me. Next time and everytime I am inclined to raise my hand again on him I will remember this quote "Never raise your hands to your kids. It will leave your groin unprotected". It pays for you to remember the same. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span></span></div>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-41712072879310838182009-05-21T14:44:00.012+05:302009-08-25T15:34:20.072+05:30The people@SAS R&D INDIA PVT LTD - Part 1<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I wanted to write this as a single post decided not to. This is one long post</span></span>, so you will get this in multiple parts.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUx8vhJSTzbgRAKla6diOecDmnbmie3LDApUJ58XOW9WY9H_pjR-edhsSfiPFQbLkFfSq5GjK5r4m-5H1DqNoW_P9MTjc0qc7sKN0V5iEi-AxrOlBfGci8XauuYLrOp6ZNRYFr/s1600-h/who_is_this.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUx8vhJSTzbgRAKla6diOecDmnbmie3LDApUJ58XOW9WY9H_pjR-edhsSfiPFQbLkFfSq5GjK5r4m-5H1DqNoW_P9MTjc0qc7sKN0V5iEi-AxrOlBfGci8XauuYLrOp6ZNRYFr/s200/who_is_this.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338206358292984274" border="0" /></a>Cut back to March 2005, Convocation day @ XLRI. That perhaps is the only occassion in my life till date that I was in full formal regalia.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Just before my convocation I had resigned from my job at CSEL after 5 years of association. Took a month break and went on a holiday. After the holiday joined SAS@Pune. Entry to SAS was facilitated by my brother in law. The first person I meet is Shilpa, our administrative front desk. From there to Priya and then the first friend there - John George, my manager to be. First time I saw him, the thought that ran through my mind was "wow!! He has a lot of face to wash". It is difficult to describe John in a sentence or with few words. Perhaps four years of association has rendered me speechless. He did nothing to put me at ease in a new place. Showed me my desk and left. Couple of hours later he comes to me and drops a plate of problems on my lap which he wanted solved yesterday. This was to be my fate - solve today's problems yesterday. I am still doing the same. This ability of his enabled me to become a quicker learner, shed my inhibition in approaching learned collegues with questions, code better and a lot lot more. Along the way I realized why I found John to be a good manager is because, he puts in an equal effort as me to learn and understand what solution I provide. Secondly the one factor why I would put John on higher rating than others is his mantra of - "Let your work advertise" a<span style="font-weight: bold;">long with facilitating the environment and resource needed to produce beautiful and excellent codes and solutions. Mind you, he just does not give you a mantra, but also enable you to achieve. A</span>nother facet is his drive to push yourself beyond "what you know" and get into the unknown and he breathes dwon your neck till you have completed what you have been tasked with. I can go on and on about my admiration for John and his style of management. I would call him the benevolent dictator. Riding along we see many people, some I admire and some are well strangers. From the initial team along with me only Mahesh is left. When I joined the team I was a prima donna and had all the snobbery, aloofness and tantrums of the worst of the kind. This team (in alphabetical order); Anantha, & Aniruddh (Both along with John had a lot of face to wash), Anup, Deepak (Chirag ali), Partha (Reminded me of my Stats professor, will talk about him later on) and Rasmita and Mahesh from Anna Land(as John puts it) put in every effort to change me.<br /><br />I am not sure if it was a deliberate attempt nontheless I am glad they did. Within six months I was a different person- I now love being part of the chorus. Looking back I am a better person and better at battling technology due to my interactions with them. But I am jumping the gun here. Lets go chrono as long as I remembers the dates and times. Couple of days later I meet the guy who had a rapid fire technical interview with me. Prabodh Navare was my first taste of what life would be @ SAS. My interview was hilarious. I was called over to Pune for a HR round. I reach the office straight from the airport and it became a marathon 3 hour technical round . At the end of it I was both hungry and thirsty. (Guys provide some snack and water if you do this to someone else). Anyway moving ahead Prabodh was to be my mentor and guide of SAS technologies. Prabodh comes across as a different person to many people, but to me he would provide an answer and a lot of links to research further. I am honored to be esteemed so high by him. Lets ride along and meet others - Anup Desmukh. Anup is no longer with SAS but we shared a desk and some camaraderie since we were the only two Java programmers, he before me was all alone literally and that too all new and fresh maal out of college. Suddenly one fine day the product we were working on was scrapped and the team distributed. We were pulled in different directions and Mahesh, Rasmita, Partha, Anup and me were left holding "no baby". This period was my honeymoon at SAS all of 2 months and then John goes across two ponds, gets back 2 kinds of work - one immediate - "code to show us how good you are" and the second kind was the actual work to be done based on judging our competence by the powers to be by our 1st kind of work. In the mean time Dinesh Sonsale joins us. After a couple of weeks I christened him Osman Ali (Last Nizam of Hyd notorious for his respect for time) and a couple of months later we moved to SAKAR office. The current setup was not enough to hold all our joie de vivre. It was during the two years at SAKAR that I made a lot of new friends and a lort more acquaintances. Friends who were there since the time I joined SAS but took me an year to find. Friends, My Friends, my good friends (Think you can identify them) Motor Mouth, Motor mouth's office wife (its a he by the way)Kunju, Warm beer, John's-Phone-A-Friend, Oh! Baba (this is easy), Silky, Thalaivars 1,2,3, Correct focus, bong brothers, and of course the hotsy maam from Fab India was a good motivation to get away from work and boy was there competetion to get to the basement to catch a glimpse. It was while at SAKAR that I got to go for binges with others, started of with Uncle and Motor mouth asking me first and then the gang just grew - Babu Bhai, Thalaivar 2, Bottle ki dukan, Bhattu, Ak56 (he had left SAS by then) and boy the Rum never tasted so nice before. Heres to all those binges and drinks we shared fellas.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjcZ5AazvaPRt4GNX6bUVaAru4ula597AOCNeBcE_i2k8K20LW6nnIPdF5kZ0lDPlDE0Kh4DkMZ0tNdLVTnZ4NXAdNTQCzB223_5xCHkoNjnDrQmCNuy_gIKl0wyeFDKynqETA/s1600-h/p.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjcZ5AazvaPRt4GNX6bUVaAru4ula597AOCNeBcE_i2k8K20LW6nnIPdF5kZ0lDPlDE0Kh4DkMZ0tNdLVTnZ4NXAdNTQCzB223_5xCHkoNjnDrQmCNuy_gIKl0wyeFDKynqETA/s400/p.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373837565788375250" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Should God ask me what I desire most, I will ask him, One drink with my friends and every drink after that too. Fellas you guys rock. Leave you guys with Khalil Gibran's immortal words, <span style="font-style: italic;">"</span></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;" class="body">When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">That which gives me sorrow is the separation from friends and the same thought gives me pleasure to be reminded of them and think about Those Times"</span></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stay Drunk Fellas</span></span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-15017465264028545012008-12-15T11:02:00.011+05:302008-12-15T13:34:44.113+05:30Dadhood and how - Part Tres: Happy birthday Prataparudhra<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVV-rWdxw14zU2qRve-l6NPu_-uaxBdMwBpzNdjK9FnirKcRsoK1LlBB_22l0OTwI_pkpgtddDOnCRHRRapyrJEiZE-lqIBfw7kejwZ6RWcdMqDE008OTnnj15HDp2gup9eHW/s1600-h/prataparudhra+copy_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVV-rWdxw14zU2qRve-l6NPu_-uaxBdMwBpzNdjK9FnirKcRsoK1LlBB_22l0OTwI_pkpgtddDOnCRHRRapyrJEiZE-lqIBfw7kejwZ6RWcdMqDE008OTnnj15HDp2gup9eHW/s400/prataparudhra+copy_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279885790172737682" border="0" /></a>Its 13th December. The day our son was born. An year flew past me in a flurry of watching our son growing. I bet every parent feels an over-whelming happiness which consumes everything else. Work pressure, traffic, discord; everything is transformed into happiness. I am reminded of a quote by Salinger J D which goes thus.<br /></span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >"I am a kind of paranoiac in reverse. I suspect people of plotting to make me happy</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Marcus Aurelius put it in a very simple line </span></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >"Very little is needed to make a happy life."</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">That "little" is my son, my prince, my Prataparudhra.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">One year passed and he transformed from a sleeping bundle of joy to a hyper energy propelled naughty, inquisitive, attention seeking, full of mirth reason for happiness. The image created for his birthday show all of these attributes. He drives his mother crazy with his zeal for exploring below the kitchen sink, the bathroom drains etc. Anytime one of us go out the front door, he is to be taken else we are driven insane by his high voltage, high decibel rebellion.</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP2PJhu6JKLOD7wvWpXEPVR2zmxBgXsuw-mPLxYFUhPu5r-igwps25XefqZFW3OVSkzOkAt301CtwgY-co-ftiCnFnuxkKWlx5LmFx-WzepwiOOYl6QIfi0Aaqouhqu-2t-Pnt/s1600-h/DSC02333.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP2PJhu6JKLOD7wvWpXEPVR2zmxBgXsuw-mPLxYFUhPu5r-igwps25XefqZFW3OVSkzOkAt301CtwgY-co-ftiCnFnuxkKWlx5LmFx-WzepwiOOYl6QIfi0Aaqouhqu-2t-Pnt/s400/DSC02333.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279908272448183474" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">All our frustration, anger, irritation is lost in a jiffy when he beams his angelic smile. What more shall I tell you. He has a lot of toys but they are no good if they are not in his parent's hands. He wants only those things which we use - cups, glasses, spoons etc. He has discovered sound. Sound made by banging pots and pans. All day he goes bang, bang, ting, ting, trang bang......</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">In the risk of quoting Marco Polo again and again - "What more shall I tell ?" I risk re-writing Schiller's 'Ode to joy'</span><br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:85%;">The cup of joy brimmeth,<br />But never spills,<br />As kith and kin share,<br />And are joyful for us.<br /><br />Prataparudhra, the apple of my eye,<br />Watches with wary eyes,<br />All those who greet him,<br />And bless him.<br /><br />Smiles at everyone<br />Who comes to see him<br />Wanting them to come again<br />And cuddle him<br /><br />Rudhra<br />after whom you are named<br />keeps goddesses Strife and Fury<br />at bay<br /><br />You are our happiness<br />which we share and spread<br />like the sun god spreads<br />warmth and light.<br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span></div></div>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-69563524283613851002008-07-16T17:23:00.014+05:302008-09-04T14:40:07.829+05:30Dadhood and How Part Deux<span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxtviOcJdI/AAAAAAAADds/d88EmMSvqP0/DSC02429.JPG?imgmax=576" alt="" border="0" />Part one of this series is at "<a href="http://manikantannaren.blogspot.com/2008/04/dadhood-and-how.html">Dadhood and How</a>"<br /><br />Suddenly yesterday I realised that my son is all of 7months now and has started his eighth month. Time has flown by I never noticed. Cuddling him every day I would feel the effect of happiness (sometimes preceded by despair) flowing through me. You might ask how despair? well some days he just goes yaan! yaan! yaan! for hours together and a few times into the night. What ever you do, there is no solace for him and he goes yaan! yaan! to yyyyaaaaaaaaaaannn! If this does not drive you to despair what will? And then you get a brain wave and you do something right and he just sleeps in your arm and you feel the happiness flowing through you. I sang to him a couple of times and he actually liked my voice. I crooned and he went to sleep in my arms. I was worried that if I laid him in the crib he would awaken I slept in the armchair with him in the crook of my arm. The emotions welled in me and I went to sleep with a happy mind. Waking up every joint creaked but the mind was fresh and the heart was well hearty!!!<br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br />To take him out for walks we bought a pram<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxrlzmBPYI/AAAAAAAADKw/j2-lMYqjqm4/DSC00068.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxrlzmBPYI/AAAAAAAADKw/j2-lMYqjqm4/DSC00068.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a> for him. And he just loves it. Only thing during his walks he stares at people who want to cuddle him during. He does not like it one bit if somebody pinches his cheeks and says "choo chweet". But bring him back from his walk and you see his happiness to remain in the pram<br /><br />This is the exact stare that he has on his walks.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxrnAsFtgI/AAAAAAAADLA/flLZpH3XJtI/DSC00070.JPG?imgmax=576"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxrnAsFtgI/AAAAAAAADLA/flLZpH3XJtI/DSC00070.JPG?imgmax=576" alt="" border="0" /></a>A few days now he is enjoying all the attention at his granny's place and I am left forlorn without him. (my wife teases me that I am more forlorn without him than her).<br /><br />Does anyone out there know why my baby doesn't like clothes??? Beats me. I tried to clothe him and with the amount of writhing he does we can churn butter out of milk. But anyways the ordeal starts with putting on his nappy/diaper. He would stay on his back and so I hold him with my left hand and diaper him up with my right. That is right all ye women out there, I have actually mastered one handed diarpering a baby. But he likes it not one bit. After the diaper, the shorts/trousers/pants are a cake walk. Then starts the real trouble his shirt/vest.<br /><br /></span><ol><li><span style="font-size:85%;">I nimbly put in one of his hands into the shirt. </span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Then for the next one. He holds it ramrod stiff in the air. </span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">So I remove the first hand and put it in the second one (the one that is stiff).</span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">He knows me by now and the first hand goes stiff. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!</span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxsYE9xNgI/AAAAAAAADS4/E-MuaDLiFNw/DSC02312.JPG?imgmax=800"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxsYE9xNgI/AAAAAAAADS4/E-MuaDLiFNw/DSC02312.JPG?imgmax=800" alt="" border="0" /></a>So start from beginning again.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">But now I am crooning to him.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">So in goes the first one</span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">He is very happy listening to me that he forgets to stiffen his other hand.<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Before he realises it, the other hand is in and the shirt is buttoned up.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Then he knows that he is all clothed up.<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Resigns to the fact and he is all y gumdrops.</span></li></ol><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxsZL4TXkI/AAAAAAAADTA/DQwR0F0wa4E/DSC02313.JPG?imgmax=800"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxsZL4TXkI/AAAAAAAADTA/DQwR0F0wa4E/DSC02313.JPG?imgmax=800" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Somedays he just exasperates his mother so much that she decides it is a crime for me to be so happy all alone and she plunks him on my hands. Even if I am sleeping. This has happened a few times enough to make me an expert with him playing in my hands and me sleeping soundly. (Tongue out to all those EXPERT mothers).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxsKONnUgI/AAAAAAAADRM/yeFTnz9AX_Q/DSC02302.JPG?imgmax=800"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxsKONnUgI/AAAAAAAADRM/yeFTnz9AX_Q/DSC02302.JPG?imgmax=800" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />He likes me talking to him in adult language (not baby talk) see his expressions<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxsLUKckmI/AAAAAAAADRU/5WguOjh2o10/DSC02303.JPG?imgmax=800"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxsLUKckmI/AAAAAAAADRU/5WguOjh2o10/DSC02303.JPG?imgmax=800" alt="" border="0" /></a>What do I talk to him about. I ask him how he has troubled his mom during the day. Did he do this? Did he do that? I tell him about my day. During this time you should see the expression on my wife's face. She has stopped asking me "how was your day" after getting repeatedly grunts and hrrmphs, huh! huh! and many such primitive expressions from me.<br /></span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />I actually well up with pride when my wife says "Sometimes you are a better parent than me". "SOMETIMES" I ask. EVERYTIME I assert. Her answer to this is an irritating TONGUE OUT.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxsCtcVnYI/AAAAAAAADQM/yFvz8fQMpng/DSC02290.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/manikantannaren/SHxsCtcVnYI/AAAAAAAADQM/yFvz8fQMpng/DSC02290.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Oh! I almost forgot to mention, he loves water.<br />You can watch the slide show here.<br /></span><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fmanikantannaren%2Falbumid%2F5143762924513378577%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss%26authkey%3DVJihr5E0O_o" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" width="600" height="400"></embed><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzWg5MccMQzz0GEeHycArcJNr5MlMpevmzKlPrRIUtG3O753LzkXWh9Xm6kehA88pnchy4I6PjYfkU' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9425072.post-2652853299785344932008-04-21T15:13:00.032+05:302008-11-13T22:43:40.342+05:30Indian History - Woe betide those who write the text books<div style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;">I was forwarded a link about the great Mahadji Scindia (Shinde). It berides the talk of heroic English army which was routed by a horde of native barbarians led by Mahadji Scindia. you can read the full text <a href="http://www.rediff.com/news/2003/feb/14spec.htm">here</a>. I came to know the existence of <span style="font-weight: bold;">Mahadji Scindia</span> a few years ago courtesy Sanjay Khan's "The Great Maratha". Till that time I knew not that the third battle of Panipat was fought by the Marathas against Ahmed Shah Abdali (Durrani). Till my 10th standard I did not know much about the Marathas except for Shivaji and his unnatural and unwanted (sic) hatred for Aurangzeb. After 10th Indian history became that - history till again when I appeared for the UPSC. That is when I became a full fan of history. I would devour every known material and post reading conclude ruefully - Indians to be born and those already existing will die knowing not what legacy they hold. The only legacy we seem to have is the sacrifice of the freedom fighters (that only a few well named ones). I doubt anybody north of Tamil Nadu (and may be even within) have heard of VOC (V O Chidambaram) or the Kakatiyas/Satavahana of Andhra desa or Andhra Kesari Tanguturi Prakasam Panthulu, Alluri Sitaram Raju and many more such unsung heroes. Government after government does not even recollect them but also panders to the neo-historians and ensures that the true heroes are never recollected.<br /><br />When I came to Pune and with Gods good graces took up accommodation near a temple. The temple is called Shinde Chatri. When I went there knowing not what or whose temple it was; I was pleasantly surprised. I had with me my young nephew who went gaga seeing the pictures. We spent 2 hours there re-living the third battle of Panipat and the battle of Wadgaon. <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&time=&date=&ttype=&q=Shinde+Chatri&sll=18.513389,73.868294&sspn=0.050787,0.080338&ie=UTF8&ei=QWgMSIfgEJO4igPfoOXmCA&sig2=e4A7yjmcXT5t50foewHakQ&cd=1&li=lmd&t=m&latlng=18495227,73897628,6222156944557939966">Google maps link to Shinde Chatri, Pune</a><br /><br />After reading the current post, I believe that like all those nations who have lost their connection to the past, we will be coming to a face when India will have to resurrect in all glory. What the honchos who decide and write Indian history forget is that they will be gone in oblivion, but the truth stick like the monitor lizard or Goh.<br /><br />Woe betide those who want the great people of this once-upon-a-time great nation to be ashamed of the centuries of British rule and also those who look at the British rule as nostalgic.<br /><br />Some images<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnDJsfx_FIQCJeJ49WqiRfTb2vrP_Wm9VbvuGL3gWBUtjSsbgZn1yJ0jTouwIGuadUxOD-tl2yGy_QiKJeDX2ezKJR2df0yPmVcNKTGlpA6c68ZezC34yU7YCP-DqifHN_pi3/s1600-h/images_vochidambaram.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnDJsfx_FIQCJeJ49WqiRfTb2vrP_Wm9VbvuGL3gWBUtjSsbgZn1yJ0jTouwIGuadUxOD-tl2yGy_QiKJeDX2ezKJR2df0yPmVcNKTGlpA6c68ZezC34yU7YCP-DqifHN_pi3/s400/images_vochidambaram.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191641097816018738" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">V O Chidambaram Pillai</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodmX2Qt1BVCZ1PMDKMQ2ehMOlY1K2adt6_Yhw3JfTiIoK5xQsQz5MrKs0BD2JWahGxpT3tVvz0WISpVYn780bYmt__qejshQUKzVlfL0pJFB_eCn-lQgjsoG1AUtBA7yASU0G/s1600-h/t_prakasam_11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodmX2Qt1BVCZ1PMDKMQ2ehMOlY1K2adt6_Yhw3JfTiIoK5xQsQz5MrKs0BD2JWahGxpT3tVvz0WISpVYn780bYmt__qejshQUKzVlfL0pJFB_eCn-lQgjsoG1AUtBA7yASU0G/s320/t_prakasam_11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191641523017781058" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Andhra Kesari Tanguturi Prakasam Panthulu</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioOGcqjk2bBWGKKLtjIf0fzJN81hZMityDVY6w_F0ThGWnF2U7HbDkW8GznXqcg2wjfGV2tJWlqe_V_PkKIkl0rI6ewBHvnpwB5HcS62yuVSxbi7OCoBkF4iSidy5tm5H7LqR0/s1600-h/Alluri.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioOGcqjk2bBWGKKLtjIf0fzJN81hZMityDVY6w_F0ThGWnF2U7HbDkW8GznXqcg2wjfGV2tJWlqe_V_PkKIkl0rI6ewBHvnpwB5HcS62yuVSxbi7OCoBkF4iSidy5tm5H7LqR0/s400/Alluri.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191642016939020114" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Alluri Sitaramaraju</span></span> <span style="font-size:85%;">(Could not locate a bigger picture of him)</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:78%;">Links to the Kakatiyas<br /><a href="http://mahabubnagar.tripod.com/kakatiya_dynasty.htm">kakatiya_dynasty</a><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kakatiya_Empire">On Wikipedia</a><br /><br />I am so much enamoured by the Kakatiyas that I named my son after one of their greatest kings - Prataparudhra<br /><br />Links to the Satavahana<br /><a href="http://www.salivahana.com/The%20Satavahana%20Rule.html">http://www.salivahana.com/The%20Satavahana%20Rule.html</a><br /><br />More Indian Dynasties (Does not include the Nehru Clan - You have enough sycophants for them)<br /><a href="http://www.gloriousindia.com/history/">http://www.gloriousindia.com/history/</a></span><br /></div><br /><br /></div><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></div>Manikantan Narenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06212083250462122120noreply@blogger.com0