I want to become dad!

For the un-initiated, I am married and so the title.

But there is a deeper meaning to it. Well, craving if I should admit. I generally believe and will stick to my belief that kids are those annoyingly noisy things that happen to you when you are watching a movie in theatre paying 500 bucks or negotiate hard with the brain cells and count the sheep hundred times to sleep as you travel in a train.

So my love for kids is largely not our of the fatherly craving for the kid's giggles, mischeives or the sheer energy. There are different but important reasons.

I live with dad and my wife. They are not like me in daily state of affairs at home.

• They never forget keys or never keep the main door open. I never remember any of these. I either dont lock when I leave or I leave the keys on the lock when I come in. What's wrong in it? After all lock is where the key should be! My wife doesnt seem to agree!
• Cockroaches and Lizards form the greatest components of the food chain. I die seeing cockroaches. So I am okay with lizards at home that kill these cockroaches. My wife dies when she sees lizards. I dont mind (I meant I dont mind if she decides to run away or kill herself). She would call me up (when I am driving) to ask me to do something about the gatekeeper lizard who is on a 2 month hibernation now. Well I cant talk to a lizard. Not definitely over the phone. Not when I am driving a car towards an oncoming policeman. Her negotiation skills are not good (In all our negotiations she wins by sheer force of vocal chord or ability to use kitchen utensils or both). So the lizard is there. She is there. I am expected to come home and plead the lizard to leave while the cockroaches make merry at the expense of my BP.
• I like museums when they have a marked place in the scheme of things. Bedroom is certianly not one of those places to locate a museum. My wife disagrees (This is one situation where my negotiation skills dont work. The other party should also be willing to negotiate. In this case the other party uses vocal force that would relieve even my constipation). Right now my bedroom floor has a vinyl bag (which paati's call as travel bag. The one they bring for weddings. It has a broad cover with a zip which no one closes and you stuff in things the way you want. My wife does that. Clothes that are meant for ironing (we have an iron bag), clothes meant for washing (we have a laundry bag), clothes that for just need plain folding (we have a wardrobe). Will all these, the clothes will still be dripping out on the floor from the ever open vinyl bag. Then there is a tiffin bag (we have kitchen and also a storage area under our bed). There is also a file that has all her original certificates (we have a bank locker and that wardrobe with keys). No we wont use them. No we wont even if ants find refuge near and around. My wife hates ants (Not that anyone has a soft corner for cutey goody ant. But she says she hates ants. Strange.) Well so now you know where the museum is.
• There is this refrigerator (success in spelling it right). I dont like keeping anything on top of it. But If I leave that part un-attended you will see the following on top of the fridge next time you come to my home:
• Plastic bag with nothing
• Plastic bag with soemthing that is unrecognizable
• One goodday biscuit which no one will eat
• Wrist watch that works
• Wrist watch that does not work
• invitation letters from others
• Our own marriage invitation (?!)
• Bit notice asking me to join abacus training so that I can pass with flying colors in twelfth standard. Not that I passed with flying colors when I did. But why stir old memories.

Its for these and such other reasons I need a kid. Afterall you need a company face these funny miseries...lol

Long time!

Its been a while since I wrote. While it does make my day less complete, there are many other things that I dont do that I wish I do and things that I wish I dont do, but I do.

I dont read news paper anymore for more than 10 minutes.I dont visit the beach.I dont go for a walk.I dont work on my ideas. I dont sleep late and wake up late. I dont watch discovery travel and living. I am not able to leave my room uncleaned. I am not able to smell only my smell at home. I dont go anywhere, alone. I dont do nothing anymore. There is always something to do. Some one to meet or some work to attend to. There are things that I buy that I dont use. There is a phone that rings that is not mine. I dont invest actively, because I dont have time. I dont blog. I dont leave the door open anymore for the air to come in. I am learning to be patient even as I wish I am impatient. I am impatient even as I wish I am patient. I get angry. I get worried. I like the fact that my weekend would no longer be in the company of solitude. I dont like the fact that, that one weekend which I want to be lonely, I may not afford to be.

Life has changed. In most ways, it wont be the same again.

I am married!

Liftukku ulla

Everytime I enter my office lift, I pray for a couple of things.

1. The lift should not stop in the middle of nowhere

2. It should not go on a free-fall. With just a couple of months from marriage, I dont want anything to go wrong. One wrong thing every two months should suffice. Nothing more.

Now I have added one more to this prayer list

3. I should not kill or get killed in a lift by co-passengers!

There are many lift gangs in our office. One of them thinks its their duty to ensure that the roof of the lift does not fall on us and its their job to hold it up. Noble! If only our corporate services department sponsers them free deo.Sometimes I wonder why should I not take a pollution mask inside the lift.

There is another gult gang. If they being gult is not a reason enough to roll into a laughter, they start talking absoultely incomprehensible stuff like "Ikkada yeralagada yamaga kavali and end it with a perfectly sane sound in gult-dom...."brrrrrrttt". If you dont know what this sound is, lemme tell you, even I dont know. But it comes from the mouth and not from the other obvious place. That sends me into a laughing vortex that never seems to leave me. I feel bad, but I laugh my guts out in front, back and side of them. I pray one of them doesnt turn out to be a naxalite.

Another set of creatures enter the lift like rapid action force that is there to defuse a hydrogen bomb. They never seem to mind even if they were to be spat at. I never seem to see the invisible "Balaji" or the laddu at the end of the lift. But that perhaps is the only possible motive for such devotion to elbow out the rest of the people to reach the back of the lift. I dont know why they dont get killed by a falling fan in their own living rooms!

There is another set of patients with compulsive tag-starring syndrome. I purposefully turn my id tag towards my chest or (flat) tummy just to avoid them starring at my id card and calculating my seniority in the organization. The junior you are the fiercer the stare would be and stronger their urge to bully you to one of the nooks of the lift.

There is yet another completely nervous crowd that gets out of the lift in every damned floor even if they have to get at the last stop. In the process they dont just confuse you, but also confuse the damned lift even!!

I hope I dont indulge in a skirmish and kill one of the ultra-crazy lift-goers or get killed in the process!!

I came here to write

I came here to write something funny. I have somethings funny to do, to say and to write. Thankfully I never run of them and I guess I never would.

But today its not about any of them. It's about my apprehensions.

I like reading stories after knowing the end. I watch movies only when I like the story.I dont mind reading the last page or seeing a few scenes before deciding. Purpose is very important for me. Be it movies,books or life.

It's this fixation to a purpose that tires me these days. I am what i am.I cannot be any different in this case. But right now and for the past few years the purpose of my professional life has largely been under-served or under-nourished. From great initiatives to absolute disillusionment- I've been through them all. From greatest men to wastrels - I've worked under them all and showed awe and fake-nods equally sincerely.I've chased dreams just to be disturbed in between. I've already spent half a decade doing largely nothing & occassionally well.

I've been a great leader, beloved boss, amazing friend. I've learnt. I've taught. I've inspired.I've been inspired.I've slogged. I've shown promise. I delivered.

In spite of all this, I was never interested and never achieved the greats I wish I had.I've not seen the world beyond my fences, nor have I dared much. I have not earnt the best fortunes. I promise myself every year to make the coming year different and deservingly better. But I have never been able to do that.

There has been a persistent "wait and watch" happening. Like the books I read or movies I watch, I am not able to turn to the cover to know what's in store and then go through the motion and enjoy it. Unfortunately the life story unfolds only one living second at a time. I'm impatient to be without control over the future and control over my life.

They say the only way is to work hard. They never say "Till when?" or "Till What?" and "To get what?"

Life has more questions than answers now.

I dont find a reason yet...

Its been a while since I wrote. I dont find topics to write. Thinking of it, there are many reasons.

May be its the marriage that is around the corner. Many brave men slip into the valley of yawn, boredom and absolution disorientation when marriage strikes. May be that's the reason.

Perhaps I am no longer creative. When people at the age of Amitabh Bachchan can still have their creative juices flowing (like calling himself a farmer and neatly swindling agricultural land), I feel too humbled to flaunt my creativity.

I was thinking I should write about the creative uses of Helmet for two wheeler riders in Tamilnadu, after Kalaignar requested his police men to take it easy with the rule. In a state where rules are changed as fast as ICC coach, I thought I would wait and watch, just to sum up all the news and then write a blog about it.

I even thought of doing the most right thing of today- to write about is Sivaji, the boss. Having seen the movie with the total cost of entertainment of 600 bucks, at 7 AM on a sunday morning, I decide not to rub it into myself again by re-living the experience (of playing into the prank that is Sivaji).

With more interesting things like honeymoon planning and absolutely unbelievable retail revolution finally coming to my use (I heard there is a category called honeymoon lingerie), I decide to take blogging a little easy.

I will write again. Till then follow the news of presidential elections.They may even announce your name as consensus candidate!

Tips for marriage

Men! Like me, one day, you will also decide to get married. Ok I am making it sound as though I was in control with the decision. I wasn't. So...

Men ! One day you will hear that you are getting married and a meeting with the girl will be organized. When it happens, between then and engagement there are some do's, dont's, have's and have nots.

1. You call her first, even if its STD and you are in pre-paid. I am not trying to make you sound courteous. I know we men abhor pretence. The idea of you making a call is, you will always feel the heat to cut the call before charge runs out. Less face time with women!
2. Always suggest places for the first meeting. Dont let her decide. No its not about chivalry. You know where your ex- girl friends dont come. Its better to avoid the unwanted, embarassing hugs from ex-sunitha, ex-priya!
3. Always make her sit first and offer to set up the chair for her. After all this way you can get the entire view of the place, if in case, this discussion gets boring
4. Order what she likes and not what you like....so that you can concentrate on better things when she is at her favorite ice cream
5. Pay the bills. Its both courtesy and also empirical evidence that women dont carry purse when men are around. Your prospect will be no different!
6. Dont kiss her.She would have come with lot of revlon base on her cheeks. You dont want allergy, do you? Same applies for smooch. But always say you show restraint becuase you are a decent man!
7. Buy her a lot of perfume. She may think you love her loads. I know, it might be true and also what's untold is that even in love we dont tolerate the smell of rotten onions.
8. Talk tall about her family lineage. Even if its hopless wife-beating, husband-cheating family, you are going to be a part of it. So its wise to say good things and console yourself in private that self depriciating jokes are good stress busters.
9. Never lie. I know it contradicts all the above tips. If its not possible, tell your lies with straight face. It makes sense for the future. Imagine you come home after an onsite trip where tried some caucasian experiments after dark and your wife asks about your nights there without her. You can say "Oh I was listening to Newyork Nagaram Urangum Neram" song in ipod. She will be in your arms already. Well after the caucasian experiment, this falling in arms of a fat Indian wife may not excite you. But hey, this is what you asked for when you decided to get marry!

Disclaimer: If you cant religiously do all of these, there is a simple tip. Starting loving your fiancee! Everything else falls in place without you working for it.

Did I hear the word "balancing act?", anybody?

Vandhuttomle....What Kavalai people have!!

This post is about society and the questions they have about "us". The society that opens its windows to see who has come to your house in Ford Fiesta; The same society that throws empty milk pouches to your compounds when garbage overflows from their dustbin; The society that behaves like the known street dog that is unpredictable - barks at you one time and wags its tail other times; The society that is - our neighbors, their servants, our dad's and mom's collegues, our aunts, unknown relations that you meet only during weddings !!

My apartment uncle (who by the way is a state govt employee and generally a crooked asshole)

Thambi neenga endha call center le velai pakreenga? (Vicarious pleasure in hurting my ego. I used to come late from work for a few years..And this is his way of making me feel like a wastrel !)

My dad/mom's collegue (Who is not a crooked asshole, but equally irritating - Does not brush frequently. Does not use perfume)

Sir enna velai pakreenga (Not that if I explain presales and solution architecting he is going to understand...But still I do for reasons you would know of as you read further)

Collegue 1 to my dad/mom's collegue 2 (Who is not crooked, doesnt stink and brushes without fail. He just hogs anything remotely edible), Same question!

Sir software le velai pakrar.

C2: Andha computer le okkandhu ena thambi apdi adipeenga??

Me: GAWWWWW!!!!

Mami 1 (Who does not have kids or has kids who have a hare's brain)

Nee foriegn laam polaya?

Me(of course not aloud): ila mami naa urine than poven. moonu velai thani kudicha thannala poradhu...easyo ilayo!! Cackoos pardhuku visa vum vendam drug test um vendam..simple pongo!!

Mami 2 (Who has kids who have hare's brain as well, but just plain lucky and hence in the US)

Nee "You Yes" laam polaya da? (Note that its not US or states. Its "You Yes")

Mama (Mami 2's Husband)

Neeyum ena sathyathla thaane irukai? Ena Javava? Elarum ipo adhane panrangal!! (Can easily replace Dayanidhi Maran as Minister of DisInformation Technology)

Some fellow villager at my village:

Enga velai paake?

Me: Company le

Villager: "Yenyya..Govermentu velai kadaikalaya?"

Dad/Mom's Collegue 3 :

Thambi nee madras la thane velai paake...en payyanum anga than irukaan...address tharen poi paaru...

Me: Duh...Why?

Dedication: This post is dedicated to my w-b-wife who has been a great fan of my blog.

E O W M W I T B!!

Writer's block

Before you ask, who conferred that title "writer" on me, I will admit that its me who self-bestowed it. Damn it...Its my blog..

Anyway, I haven't been writing for a while, complains M. She is a fan of my writing and all that. Some people are very nice and she is of that category and hence... So before some smart-ass leaves a comment on my writing skills..here is my admission that am still a novice..D.I.I.M.B and so I can say anything. I withdraw that admission!

So what do I write about? There are so many things that happened to me in the last one month.

There was a death- of whose proceedings, I was the lone help-man for a whole night. If being up and close to the pains of death and sheer churns the stomach takes when you change the dress of the corpse is not enough, being comfortably forgotten by all relatives that I actually was holding the fort without sleep, really makes me wonder how much human mind can have preoccupied agendas even when attending to death.

There was then a business idea i was so passionate about and spent a few weekends thinking and writing about it. Today it got poo-poohed by a very well-informed man and here I am, back to square one. If there is one thing that never changes in my life, its the struggle to make it big. There have been so many disappointments and effective learnings. But to realize that I am not yet one of those 0.1% of world that strikes it big before 30, makes me nervous and angry.

Between all this there is some emotional investment that I am making. There are some relationships that have propped out of nowhere but here to stay.Like a movie fan, who enjoys planning for a movie, gets there, manages to get the ticket and gets in to the hall, I have crossed the few essentials of this entertaining process. Now as the drama is set to unfold, I'm nervous and hopeful that all that starts well, continues well!

Adding to all this, there is the pleasure and pain of leaving what i called home for 3 years to a new (albeit lovely) place which I can call home for another one year. Such changes unnerve me.Every such change forced upon on me like this landlord who asked us to vacate, makes me realize the value of making it big soon. I wish I had my own house at adyar. Now its just a wish.There is age and time for all this. But I am not convinced why it does not happen now.

While I could attend to all of these, there is one person I wish I could sit besides and participate in her agony of personal loss, which I could not.I could just say "You can count on me:. But I dont know if, she had wanted to count, I could have participated? I feel like I am walking on one direction from a crossroad while turning back to see the way I came through and how much I wish I can go back! I can't!

There is so much happening in life. So much! Each one is worth attending to and worth devoting time on.

P once asked me " Ashwin, if shit is happening, let it happen. But why could God not tell me why its happening and why its justified. I will at least feel the fairness of life"

I said "There is no charm in life, if everything has a known reason"

But I say now " If the most important things in my life happen to me for reasons I dont know, where is the charm/hope/logic of life?"

Girl Dekho

If you are 20-something and have reasonably arrived in life, murphy's law starts working in its worst way expected. This is when GD happens.There are some tell-tale signs when this dubious underground activity called "Girl Dekho" is getting planned.

1. Your mom suddenly tells she is getting old and not as active as she used to be. (Notwithstanding her new craze for designer cut shoes which she picks up one pair each, every month when she visits you)
2. You are suddenly invited to all marriages and for some unknown reason your face is framed in the close circuit tv in the marriage hall (Though you would have innocently been thinking that you are naturally beuatiful and hence..)
3. Your not-so-favorite relatives will suddenly be interested in knowing about your job (Though after 1/2 hour of telling them you are into sales in a software company, they will still say "Payyan software le vela pakran")
4. Your dad who till now took a who-are-you stance at you, will start pestering you to buy a house
5. Your america (went for daughter's maternity) returned aunty will ask your height and photo (Next thing you know, your profile will be in bharatmatrimony.com)

So how to avoid "Girl Dekho"?

1. When you mom says she is getting old, give her a "oh-is-that-not-the-case-for-the-last 10 years" look. Never entertain a discussion.Never get sentimental. Its a ploy!
2. Never go to weddings. Even if you have to go bearded and if possible with mouth-ful of manikchand gutka. If you are a girl wear a very revealing ghagra choli and give a hug to the food contractor telling his sambhar was good!
3. When someone aunty asks for your photo, send the one where your hands are strategically placed around a not-so-conservative girl/guy. More the smoke in the frame, the better it is.
4. If inspite of all your efforts, some prospective oversmart dad-of a guy/girl comes to you and asks about your hobbies, just say - premarital sex!

If you are dumb and wonder why it is such a bad idea, sample a few here!

1. You may never get to do the "Girl Dekho" straight. If the girl has a bro, you may end up doing a "bro dekho", just so that he can assess how much of a hannibal you are before his thangachee can meet you.
2. If you are those unlucky types, "bro dekho" will be preceded/succedded by "Parivar Dekho". The girl's mom, mom's dog, dad, dad's uncle, his snuff box, snuff, grand father with overgrown nose hair, uncle with baggy and reebok shoes will all want to meet you.
3. You will have to shave in the middle of the work week
4. You might even be suggested to get a manicure/pedicure/facial done
5. You would have to get locked up in a room with a girl/guy who does not know what to say and where to start. When you finally initiate a conversation, her sister will door deliver "kesari" and "mundiri paruppu". However better it is to eat them, than to talk to the dork on the otherside of the cot, you somehow would feel that reverse metabolism is happening and your mouth feels like ass. It's a queasy feeling to get into a claustrophobia-meets-xenophobia situation.
6. You might have to encounter silly salutations like "maplai saar" which you never craved to earn ever!
7. You would be expected to smile at a kid and say "cute", which you would have held upside down on your balcony, for a brat it is.

So "GIrl Dekho" is all about being out of yourself, playing to the audience and often requiring to suond absolutely in control and perfectly logical person when saying "Hi, oh you are shanthi".."Nice meeting you...Chal let's get married"

Moment - The guy's love interest on a girl was exposed

It’s an over-smart world!

I am thrilled and nervous at the same time! Life has become simple and complicated. There is abundance of choice and limitation of time. I am thankful to have born when the world decided to eject out of the decidedly slow past, but scared that my future generation would not be able to cope up with the escape velocity.

Did you ever think countries will be trading carbon surplus in lieu of economic benefits? In our language it means “I burn less and pollute less. So let me trade my surplus with a country that burns more, in return for other economic benefits”. Smart solution to a practical problem or stupid answer to a fundamental flaw?

First there were simple pollution masks and now in my own adyar there are oxygen parlors! Will my kid sport a tiny pollution filter as its first gadget? Will some smart company sell me fragrance over the internet, which I can use to recharge my kid’s pollution filter, so that the kid breathes aromatic air? If it happens will you call it the affordability of technology or suffocating abundance of options?

If you think the above mentioned thought is science fiction, sorry you are out-dated. Check for “Fragrance cartridges” in google. There is a way to send fragrance over the internet.

My cell phone can understand who is calling and tell a customized response to them through SMS without me having to decide what to say. It can recognize voice, capture movements and ships them all to my blog with just two button pushes. Now I cannot live without it. I communicate more than the cave man did. Now I communicate even more than my earlier generation does. Everyone’s having a story to share, as it happens, when it happens.

There is smarts everywhere. There is choice. There is money. There is a craving. The smarts find answers to this craving and the craves have the money to pay for the smarts. It a vicious cycle of ecstasy that breeds dependence and complexity.

I think somewhere the secret passage to a new world had opened and we are marching fast towards the comforts and pains it can provide. What you might read blow would be downright bizarre but will certainly happen within the next 10 years!

My TV will soon understand who I am and show me a list of programs I can watch – drawing from my browsing patterns, mobile phone usage, channel surfing patterns and even my mood. I will not need a remote very soon. My hand movements or simple nods would be enough. Soon it will go outdated and my pollution filter fit to my nose will sense the breathing patterns and decide if I am angry, romantic or scared and accordingly play American pie or Ring or Gladiator.

My cable company will tell my mobile phone vendor and the game company that am watching gladiator. I will get a video call from some simulated babe who will talk in my language, asking whether I would like to download a free version of the new gladiator game. The game company by now would have sent the same free version to my gmail.

As I watch the movie, my TV will show that I have a new game on my PC and if I want to compare a chapter of the movie with the game and show the relevant portion of the game, so that I can play that portion of the game.

My couch will soon realize that am sitting in the same posture for 30 minutes and start massaging my butt. If I had paid an additional 500 bucks to the furniture store, he would have fitted a small Bluetooth device, which will communicate with my mobile phone and send an sms to ‘Sanjeevanam’ that am doing a home massage. They would send back a message to my TV if I want a relay on how to stay healthy and if I want “Raja Keeyam” food for lunch.

My western closet would have got a communication from the same couch that I may need a warm water massage and the next time I shit, it would spray warm water to clean, than the normal water!

Roughly three hours after my visit to the loo, my fridge will ask me by sms or mail or tv message whether I need some juice. Perhaps my BMI would have been monitored in some perfectly logical way.

The world has cracked the rhythm of inventing. One thing leads to other and we always know what next and how to go there. As the game gets exciting, there is always an end. Even today am frustrated and feel suffocated about how much people know about me, how they guess where I am, how they know when to reach me and how easy it is to be aware of me. How much our lives have become like “Truman Show”!

When my kid grows up s/he will not have the option to opt out. I have now and I’m not exercising it yet as I am not bored of the excitement of this escape velocity travel. But when its boring to my kids, they simply can not come out, because the simpler world is ceasing to exist in front of our eyes!

Alternate Professions for Team India

With such a scintillating performance against Bangladesh, Team India might well not return to India. Even if they manage to do so, through the underground gas pipeline through Iran, they might still not find their jobs as cricketers. We thought we would provide them rehabilitation advices and who knows, some of them might even consider these seriously!

Sachin Tendulkar - He is the most versatile (er?) player. In the mornings he can lift the MRF tire and keeping rotating like the MRF Man and in the evenings he can charge himself with tiger biscuits. In between he can try an audition for Mowgli of Jungle Book.

Virendra Sehwag - Oh he already has a full-time job ready. The number of andae he has laid, it would take time for him to collect them all.

Rahul Dravid - When the team comes back to India, he can stand in front of the mob and utter absolutely believable statements like "Boys tried their best". Even if someone throws an empty pepsi bottle, it wont hurt much. After all, he's the wall!

Dhoni - They are searching for a new kid for our "aarogya naalarai paal" and Dhoni has no other job anyway.He can also launch his own hair saloon and upsell mysor sandol there.

Yuvraj Singh - He is such a marvellous fielder and has enthralled us wih his dives. The dolphin show in ECR has not been doing well at all and we will literally jump a this job!

Agarkar - He just lacks consistency and line. We would recommend him to work with PWD or Telephones department. His lack of skill suits here very well. He can start the trench anywhere and end it anywhere. We will figure out how to drive, inspite of all this.

Harbhajan Singh - We suggest he opens a restaurant next to Cozee in besant nagar and sells 'Doosra'..err..."Dosa"

Sreesanth - We heard this dude sings well. Being a mellu and hinduu, our dude has a bright future with Ayyappa devotional songs.

Ganguly - Our man has a way with stripping. So how about a pole dancer in a strip club?

Zaheer Khan and Munaf Patel - Oh opening bowlers? Know swing? Fast? I think I will retire my car and these two can carry me through the traffic. Fast and easy to manuveur.

Mandira Bedi - She can make noodles from her noodle strap blouses!!

Should I not hope?

I'm not the Mother Teresa type. My idea of helping the society is capitalistic. In India, there are more people who need jobs than there are. India needs more people who can provide jobs.

The best way to serve the needy is to equip them to be self sufficient, to be ready for tomorrow and to make their lives sustainable beyond a generation. We are educated. We are equipped. We are smart & capable. If 1 in 10 of us become entrepreneurs, the ripple effect will generate livelihood and sustenance for generations that we won't live to see. That's transformation.

It's for this reason I dont resort to any kind of charity - feeding beggars, sponsoring food or providing medical help. I instead work and equip myself, so that one day I can create jobs. For this same reason, I do come forward to helping students with fees once in a while. I derive immense pleasure in teaching and mentoring. But am appalled at the lack of accountability of the receivers of acts of charity.

Money that isn't theirs, money that comes with no toil and help that comes without a rider, though born out of deep desire to transform is often wasted and misused.

I learnt a hard lesson this week. I had a vegetable seller at my door at 6 15 am in the morning. He was in tears and woke me up to say that he needs to pay exam fees of 615 Rs. I don't know him. But not believing him would have costed him his studies. So I gave him a cheque, without asking for any proof.

The boy came back yesterday, saying inspite of giving the fee he could not attend the exams becuase he has the term fees not yet paid. He needed 1115 Rs. Then again my loss if he was unreal will be lesser than his loss if he was true and I din't pay him. So I wrote another cheque. But he did say that he has got the money from a charitable trust and the money would reach him in the evening and he would return the money back to me the same evening. I was ready to gather help for him to continue his help.

The guy has not called me since then. He has not returned the money, nor has he come to say that he has not got the money from the trust and hence using my money. Where's accountability?

I have lost a bit of money, but lot of hope! It's just hard to find deserving people who are accountable also. I could have done well to go with him to his college or ask him to bring some elders with him or so many other things, than give in to false sense of fulfillment.

More than a loss, its my lack of insistence on accountability which has mde me sit up and think!

Watch where you put your charity and better, make the receiver know you mean business even when it is charity!

Grind and Swing

This weekend has been the busiest ever!

It started with a marathon run of 3 kms up and down a bridge, with two bags weighing 10 kgs, in the choc-o-block traffic to catch my train. I was going to Bangalore.

The saturday started with work and ended late into the night with work. It was a non-stop grind from 10 AM to 12 Midnight working with excel, intense discussions and lot of figuring out interrupted only for dining.

I had to go through quiet a bit of mood swings as the model was getting built. With absolute disbelief in the possibility of the model to a high of having discovered (possibly) the next big thing in the internet. As we played with numbers, we were seeing the possibility of making just 2 lakhs per month as revenue to 55 lakhs per month.

The grind continues today and as they say, hope all that's well ends well..

La Affaire Daddy

"Vechchu Vei..Paakalam"

I have heard this term a little more than a few crore times from my dad that I have grown a phobia towards it.

God made things in this world with a purpose. Who are we to destroy them? Noble thought! But come to my home in tirunelveli and you would realize that its perhaps not too profound an idea to practice!

Some people write diaries. My dad just collects it. Some have a fascination for calendars..the pireeli..swimsuit type...some collect "saami" calendars....My dad has 2 in 1987..10 in 1989...50 from 1991 and so on. He is also an ardent devotee of all Gods. These dieties first occupied the "saami alamaar". Then "moved" by the pious devotee's "bhakthi" they descended and moved to whichever place in the house they can - "omnipresent" in kitchen, fridge, tv, bureau and damn even the toilet sometimes...just in case if a cockroach decides to be a tenant of our anal passage...it will get scared seeing the poster of GOD Almighty "sorigified" in the door joints of the loo.

Every useless thing has a utlity value for my dad. So he does a "Vechchu vei paakalam" for everthing. Even his new VIP undy sticker is a good decorative element and has a place in the fan regulator.Then there is a flimsy jigu jigu wall hanging made of cheap plastic paper which is a sorry choice for a ceiling hanging (a la Chandlier lamps). It took me 7 long years to convince that we need to remove the package cover on it. It hung in my house for all those years neatly wrapped in a cover. For my dad, the cover was meant to prevent dust, even if it means the decorative (!) piece would never serve its purpose!

Oh then there are varities of seeds - Strawberry to Tulip flower... Kiwi to Pappaya..which will one day become a part of our orchard that we will never buy in a century. But so what? Even if the seeds are dried now, wouldnt some Professor in Arizona State University find a way to make life outta dried seeds and then, we can have all rows of kiwi, strawberry and tulip in our hot tropical tirunelveli. Heck..if al this cannot happen, Steven Spielberg's great grandson or some mission from mars will understand life in earth, by just looking at my house..They would even take these seeds to Mars and create new life..My dad is a visionary...and we are just shani..

As a kid I used to wear those black leather shoes from Bata. They are durable. In our house where useless stuff last for 50 years, you can imagine how long "durable" stuff will last.. I have all my school shoes and yeah, the dried cherry shoe polishes. So what if they are dried? We have kerosene in 10 bottles to liquidate the polish. When my son studies in DAV, I can fool him about the value of antiques and give him the same shoes sparkling shiny with my 30 year old cherry shoe polishes. You thought my dad is compulsive rubbish collector? No he just beats inflation across decades, which P.Chidambaram and Manmohan Singh cannot do!

And by the way, did you miss the part about Kerosene. We never knew why we needed it when we having cooking gas and microave owen. But now that we discovered the shoes and shoe polishes, there is perhaps a use for the kerosene. But I agree that 10 bottles would be an overkill. But who knows? With all the nuts, bolts, ball bearings, chain sprockets that my dad has collected, I can build my own Bullet bike and this kerosene will then have two uses. One, to lubricate and two, to run the bike!

My Dad is a craftsman too. Can you collect 1000's of nutirene coffebit and orange toffy wrappers, skillfully knit them to create tiny baby dolls with frocks? My dad can.. I feel helpless that this skill just dint find a better stage than our TV shelf, windows and his own bureau.

My dad also is a great socialite. He "hangs" out with sangar, subramanian, natrajan saar, segar - all wasted souls of my dad's office, for whom the only perfume is the "agarbathi" they kolithify everyday at home. But should that stop my dad from buying every new deo in the market (no matter if it sternly reads "Ramasamy - This is for women and not for you")? I love him and all that. But I kinda dont like him when he offers me one of his "scentu bottils" which read "Now unleash your feminine freedom". He doesn't like me refusing either! Ultimately these bottles end up in a massive plastic tray in our "so called" dressing room. He has all colors of bottles. All fragrances. Damn! I started hating perfumes becuase of his penchant for wierd smelling perfumes (including the famous "marikozhunthu" scent thats famously sold in city buses)

Did I say he also collects "Ball point pens" and "Fountain Pens"? The ones that have four refills in one (Red, Blue, Black and Brown), the Reynolds, the Hero Pens, The fully transparent fountain pens, the golden color ballpoint pens, the pilot pens, assorted refill packs - he has them all. But just as you want to use one of them, you will have to wade through an ocean of melted ink, stinking like rotten brinjol and then pick up a refill. When you finish noting that phone number, you would realize that the ink has not just painted your gripping fingers, but also under the nails.

If I have a soap in the bathroom, I am saved. I can just wipe the ink and get off. As murphy's law goes, if shit should happen, it will always happen. Just as I call out for a soap, Dad will be there with 24 options - from a simple hamam to a medimix to lux (imported by my uncle from Dubai) to some sample soaps with no names (given by his office, when he "travelled" to "madras" in 1998)...Aaa aaaa aaaaaaa!

I know you are tired by the sheer breadth of passions my dad has! If you live to read, go on...there are some more!

My dad collects papers! I repeat, Papers - which include news papers, petrol bills, vibhudi and kunkumam potalams, assorted letters saying "Ramasamy, this is just to let you know that your ULIP deposit has increased from 2000 Rs to 2034 Rs through our wasted investments we made on your behalf". There are letters that say "Ramasamy, our thoppanar expired in matunga. Thasathu will happen on Sunday" - dated 23, April 1989. He also has a stack of stock certifications of companies like GV Films which dont exist today!

Mom has four cardboard boxes of these treasures and God being so kind, we continue to get these treasures in piles, overflowing our shelves and occupying every possible square inch of our house.

How can I miss the best Souvenir dad has got in his life - The Ganga Jal

Dad had gone on a pilgrimmage to Kasi a few years back and in my opinion (and his too), its a personal fete comparable to Alexandar conquering India. For a man who think twice before crossing tirunelveli, holding his flag high in Kasi is indeed a lifetime achievement! What best way to celebrate it than by getting lorry loads of small brass pots with "Gangei Jalam"

We havea full loft filled just with these brass pots with arrested water in them! I asked amma what Dad is planning to do with them

Amma said " Cheththu pona odane idha thaan odachu thalavazhiya kulipatanum". Humor under helpless situations is the best way to beat the feeling of helplessness, I learnt!

Yipeee!!!

It feels like heaven.

I went to google.com and there was academy awards in Star movies. Then I just walked around to the fridge to take some "athirsam". I typed for some search keyword.

Then I reached out to my diwan and was sitting right next to the door to catch some air. I logged into blogger. Dint miss the uber-cool all-revealing drapes these actresses were wearing in the academic awards ceremony...sigh!!

Everything is possible....From this moment am "un-wired". I just did the "Ho..Ho..Ho..Wireless Ho!"

Its been more than year since I bought wireless router and it just happened today that some really capable IT hardware dude set it up for me! For the first time, I feel the mobility of my laptop.

I am gonna put a sticker in my door saying, this house is "Wi Fi" enabled..Cool na?

Now I dont have to carefully pull two ropes of wires and navigate them through my mid riff and keep a quilt to support me and keep two pillows on my tummy to avoid the radiation - all to move my laptop to the next room while staying connected.

Life is much better with a stupid laptop going wireless!

I cant have enough of it yet. I love this so much that I wanna sleep with my router!!

Review - Pachai Kili Muthu Charam

Its a bold movie, yet again from Gautham Menon.

The story line is not very complicated. A middle-aged man, Venkatesh (Played by Sarath) falls into an extra-marital affair with Geetha (Jyothika) and before he realizes he is stuck to the cobweb of conmen, who then blackmail him for money. The rest of the movie is about how Sarath saves his marriage with his loveable wife (played by Andrea) and then hits back to take all the money he lost to the conmen!

Its very refreshing to see Sarath Kumar being introduced as just "Sarath Kumar" and not "Supreme Star". He plays a medical rep who is content with his sales job and passes every chance of promotion to stay in the city with his wife and kid. Andrea plays Sarath's wife. Inspite of her not-so-south looks, she scores well in emotions and carries the role of a disappointed lover/wife with remarkable depth. I wish she gets more such roles in tamil cinema.

The story begins slow with first half an hour devoted to introduce Venkatesh, Kalyani and their son, who has juvenile diabetics. Sarath wields emotions like we have never seen. He also looks polished and bright. There is ample room for the first time to display love, lust, affection, disappointment, sorrow, contentment and fear - all in one movie. Sarath has brought in each of these emotions to their full and nowhere is it exaggerated.

The family saves money for their ailing kid and even decides to forego the idea of having another kid, just to devote their live for this kid. Its in this meloncholy-meets-reality situation, Venkatesh gets to know Geetha. Her's is another story of unsuccessful marriage life. Venky and Geetha turn friends. Geetha then takes fast moves to bring Venky into a love-lust

quagmire.

Gautham's dilemma is whether to become a Quintin Tarrentino or to be his own.The edginess and riveting narration which he followed in his earlier movies were very Quintin-like. Each scene led to the other and we did not have a minute to take a breath.But PKMC needed a full first-half to develop two micro-stories, one of Venkatesh & Family and the one of Venkatesh & Geetha. Gautham could have done well by limiting Venkat-Geetha relationship phase to the minimum and used the rest of the time to build a racy fightback.

Its this indecisiveness till the first half, that brings the movie flat, for an average movie goer. Gautham tries to break traditions one too many at the same time. First its the story line which is about extra-marital affairs. Second its Sarath doing a subdued hero. Third its Jyothika with her earthern looks and unfamiliar voice dubbing and fourth being a very slow narration much against what you would expect his movies to have.

The movie takes off in a typical Gautham menon fashion, when Lawrence (Milind Soman) enters the story and the blackmail trail begins. You are waiting to see how Venkatesh handles the moral fight and when Venkatesh finds Geetha to be a part of Lawrence's con-gang, you would come to the edge of the seat.

But the feast that we saw in Anbuchelvan-Pandiya fightback is missing here. Firstly there is no fightback from Sarath for most parts and when he does its already the end of the movie. Lawrence & Geetha (we thought) die in a gun-fight with Venkatesh, who not very mysteriously has to rely on Sarath Kumar, the action hero to fight 10 men wielding iron rods. We too had to come to terms that after all its not Venkatesh, its Sarath Kumar.

With meloncholy-lust-deceit and chase taking three-fouth of the movie, Gautham would have felt, its too little a feast for his audience and as I thought I the movie was over, Jyothika springs back even after we thought she's shot dead, to lead another excruciatingly boring fight, where she indeed dies this time. It was neither racy nor any bit climactic. While Jo is all too willing to do a negative role in the end of her career's first innings, she could have taken care about her looks, dubbing and presentation. The life you associate with Jo, is missing.

My Verdict: You must watch it as early as you can. It may not be out there for long!

Elimination Round - Ideal Girl - Part 1

Preethi today asked me for my idea of an ideal match (The marriage type). Thinking of it, more than what kind of a girl I may like, there are many creatures I just would kill with a "HIT SPRAY" if I ever had the license. :)

First category is what I call as the neo-ramba girls. You can see them in college, office everywhere. No one except the "oh-its-been-a-long-time-since-I-saw-a-girl" guys go near them. This species oozes the oomph with extra large dangling ear rings, Revlon shades, cheap saravana stores jeans with embroidery on it and those really loud (color) and extremely noisy tuk tuk heel shoes. Just as you are stuck for words looking at their profoundly repulsive demeanour they reciprocate with "Chee, enna yen pa apdi pakre...enaku oru maariya vardhu" look. WTF?

The second category is "lovelace forever". They are very nice people. They are always there for you, feeling extra large for you. Hayoyo enada thalai le thoosi and wipes it off for you. SMS'es you with "Life is like a river. You are a goldfish. I am a dolphin" kinda message and expects you to reply with a "Sucha sweet girl you are" sms. She knows your ringtone, she remembers its time for you to pay the electricity bills, she even sms'es you to check the road on both sides before you cross.Before you realize, she knows everything about you. You can just walk straight and ask her, how many more deep breaths should I take to meet my average oxygen intake for every friday and she will have an answer. You never know. She perhaps knows. They call you by every name including babli, chintu, tintin, ashu, asho or sweetypie..that you come back home and shout in front of the mirror "ashwin" "ashwin" "ashwin" a hundred times, to feel how nice and relieved it sounds. Its all bubbly-giggly but they just dont get the point that one doesnt need to salvage the entire time, every ounce of energy and self-respect to "take care" of a guy. They are nice, lovely but carry zero magnetism

The third is ultra-pack. For these chics everything is larger than life. They exchange "Hi" with a rub of cheek and a kiss in the air, even if its just our good old besi beach, they are meeting in. They know how to wear a 9 yard saree with glass work and still manage to reveal everything. I can watch Antony Bourdain of "No reservations" eat live octopus. But I will puke if I sit with these chics for 10 minutes. They are adventurous in every sense of the word. They can tell between tasmac and a cognac which is 18th century brewed. They talk hard rock and metal.They drive custom made jeeps with 10 absolutely drunk guys in it whom she would have just met through yet another common friend whom she met the last week for the first time. (This is no exaggeration. I sadly happened to be with such a gang for precious half n hour of my 31 dec 2006)

The fourth category is Kartavya girls. They all look the same. There is only one way you can take them to orgasm - by taking them through a hypnotism spell and walk them through redmont seattle Microsoft office and show that they work there as a geek with the Vista OS in 2007. They would like "Java User Group - Code Marathon" t-shirt to Swarowski crystals. They shut down their eyes to sleep, reboot to wake up, fragement the bread for breakfast, disk cleanup their scooties, go to office in run time, take command(s) prompt-ly. Huff...enough said..

For all these complications, there is one category of girls, I just fall for. It takes one full post to write about them. Thats on Part II..

Slurrpy Iyers

I was fortunate to have been bred , as a child, in a street where eating was just more than a daily chore. The oldies, I remember, have arranged for massive mass lunches for every conceivable amavasai or pournami.

Coming from such a tradition, Sarvana Bhavan's rationed thayir sadam feels like an insult to the Slurrpy Iyer in me. Here is an ode to the abundance, indulgence and sheer slurrp that I miss!

Iyers of the previous generation, I have known, have squared off their fortunes just by drinking paal payasam and moor kozhambu. Even today my granny cannot make food for less than five people, even if its only she who eats!

A family getto at Iyer homes is a treat not just for our taste buds, but also to our sight. Being a kid I was always the messenger when a devesam or punyajanam happened at our home. I will run the entire street and "invite" the fellow iyer-bagasuraa's for the lunch.

I am not sure why they call it "Thalai vazha elai" . At my age of 10, I could easily strech and sleep on that leaf. Its in this leaf they serve food. Anxiety always took over me when the "tarrap" "tarrap" "krrr" sound of cleaning the leaf starts. What amazed me was not even one of those mamas would tear the leaf with that WWF style washing and nor would they even lift their butt to reach to the contours of the leaf.This is one art, I envy and never could master even to this date.

You must also note that the amount of intake is inversely proportional to the grip of the veshti.The tight veshti relaxes as they progress from sambhar to rasam to payasam to thayir sadam and when they finish the penance (??) the veshti just slips down in sheer load that it cannot bear!

Now back to the basics.

The iyer saapadu inherently breeds socialism. Everyone's given a level playing (?!) ground.Even as you get served, you will wait for the rest of all to get served too and just as players do their team chant, the Iyers do their mantra chants..a la...ready joot 1 2 3

It all starts with a modesty personified drops of payasam whose sweet taste would perhaps be a spoilsport to the sambhar rice that comes next in the order. But Iyers being no ordinary men, use the plain rice to wipe the residual payasam clean and bingo, the banana leaf is ready for its next victim!

There is of course an order in which food is served. Paruppu is always served before food. Salt takes the left extreme, while kootu and poduthuval take the centre stage. If there is Bhoondi it takes a strategically precarious place between uppu and kootu. On the top right, comes exceedingly syruppy and intolerably sweet "pineapple jaam", which rubs often with an equally crappy and sour "thayir pachidi" . The bottom half is reserved for rice and the mixes and payasam.

The best eater is one who has the most rice grains on the inner palm.The more you squeeze and make the food eject out of your fingers, the more you are recognized as a veteran. There is also a tradition to reserve a seat for a person who is anointed as the one through which the departed soul, relishes the lunch and he gets a dhonnai which is yet another improvisation. Its a small banana leaf rolled into into a pentogonal shaped bowl with no stiches what so ever...which is then filled with ....what else... pal payasam.

I learnt about aerobics only when a few years back. But it's always been a familiar exercise having watched our grand dads skillfully doing a half U turn with rasam with the side of the palm turned into a skilled wiper taking along all thakkali and rasam in one massive gravity defying swirl taking off perpendicularly like a sukhoi and then go way up to a rolling tongue and scale back the same way in a split second, back to take over the "now retracing wave" of rasam. Its difficult to put this art in words. But I always wonder, with such relex and navigation skills why did no michael schumakers come out of our community!

Another notable aspect about rasam is how you slirp. An "ussswwwpp" should always follow with another "ussswwwp" within next 40 seconds. If it does not, the rhytm will be lost between sound, aerobics and wiping. There is so much in eating a rasam sadham.

Between every transition from one rice to other, you are served with a liberal dose of pal payasam...and the person who serves invaribaly pours one more scoop...saying "mamaa sandhehathuku" (meaning...just in case you are in two minds and feel for not having another scoop, later)

Talk about spoils !!

Finally they serve you with banana which should technically be ejected out of lack of space, but where there is will, there is intenstine and colon.

After all this, the maamas' then move out to the table kept ready with skillfully arranged vetthalai,sunambu and paaku and here starts "indha kichchambi irukanae...verum jambbam"...Another discussion, another day passes by without realizing what massive fete they have orchestrated in that 2" * 1 " banana leaf!

This was taken at 8 30 AM on a Sunday morning. I like this blue tint at the end of the road! Somehow Sundays have their own special color, right?

The School KFI Road - Besant Nagar

Can you try writing a suitable quote for this?

Rather a long egotrip

1. Were you named after anyone?
No, I was not in queue

2. Do you believe in stars?
Never! I always managed to be a back bencher

3. When did you last cry?
When i made onion sambhar

4. Do you like your handwriting?
Yes. Its "Trebuchet 10 font with 1.5 line spacing"

5. What is your favourite meat?
Not exactly favorite. But I like when Antony Bourdain in "No Reservations" eats fried grasshoppers tearing one head at a time!

6. What is your most embarrassing CD on your shelf?
A 1960's adult movie which is hopelessly boring with some "banned" scenes like english women coming in sleeveless (not topless!)

7. If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you?
Oh will be head over heels!

8.Are you a daredevil?
Yeah, i just missed being a bandit

9. How do you release anger?
Just the way you pee...Concentrate, Control till you can, Clear, Clean and Forget till it happens again

10. Where is your second home?
You mean chinna veedu?

11. Do you trust others easily?
Ena romba nallavannu oru varthai solitangale nu vadivelu mari aprom azharthuka?

12. What was your favourite toy as a child?
No I was into better things like trying to defy gravity, attempting to dig a hole to reach antarctica and so on..Appove naa andha mari...

13.What class in school/college do you think is totally useless?
They were all useful..I wasnt

14. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Ask my victims!

15. Have you ever been in a mosh pit?
Will you join me?

16.What do you look for in a gal?
Intelligence and quickwit. Clarity and urban-smarts. Above all no mush, good dresses and a liberal usage of deo

17. Would you bungee jump?
Um..as long as it does not break my family's genetic realy race!

18. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
No I sleep with shoes (on my legs...not like what you read out of it)

19.what's your favourite ice cream?
Anything as long as its from a shared bowl on a quaint evening

20. What are your favourite colours?
Orange, Red, Yellow, Pink

21. What are your least favourite things?
Cleaning my bike n car. Wasting time with people just because its politically uncorrect to say them "F"

22. How many people do you have a crush on right now?
I am snobbish...but not in this case...There were a few, there are a few..But I am not in the game..Have taken a drinks break..


23. Who do you miss most right now?
Action. High. Adrenalin. Fever. Ecstacy. Groove. Pressure.

24. What are you listening to right now?
Chennai auto's drr-rrr-rrr-rrr

25. If you were a crayon, what colour would you be?
Orange

26. What is the weather like right now?
Sub zero plus a couple of tens (Chennai...Duh)

27. Last person you talked to on the phone?
A Drug Lord

28. The "first" thing you notice about the opposite sex?
Do they present themselves well..Its getting too technical out here..

29. Do you like the person who sent you this?
As I am in a drinks break, I had to pull this out myself. If you ask me if i like myself...oh i am madly in love..

30. How are you today?
A wholesome tambram meal and cricket...actually worried about horizontal prosperity slowly trying to hijack my 32 waist.

31. Favourite non alcoholic drink?
Banana milkshake and Jilljill Jigarthanda


33. Natural hair colour?
Whose hair? Mine? Black and a few hidden whites


34. Eye colour?
Pink..Duh..am an Indian

35. Wear contacts?
No. My contacts dont like being carried like uppu mootai

36. Siblings?
Is it a game like couplings, jalabulajangs?

37. Favourite month?
December and whenever salary hike happens


38.Favourite food?
Potato curry


39. Favourite day of the year?
Next question please...its getting to be a tad bit longer a list than i imagined


40. Have you ever been too shy to ask someone out?
No. I make sure they certainly want to and then ask...These days I beg to be not asked out...

41. Scary movies or happy endings?
Hypocracy...I have more choices.


42. Summer or winter?
I am not this complicated and choosy...Was this list prepared by a forward queen?


43. Holi or Diwali? Ada pongappa


44. Do you like your name?
No may be i would have prefered rettavaal rengudu


45. What book/magazine are you reading?
Fortune (osi le kedacha)...ilena anada vikatan, BW etc

46. What's on your mouse pad?
Balls! (I have two mice and each one has a roller ball, you pervert!)

47. What did you watch on TV last night?
Victoria's secret. I was confused...They dint hide anything...then where is the secret (Ulta perk mattera iruke idhu)

48. Favourite Smell?
Petrol and Ganja

49. Have you ever regretted breaking up with someone?
No (apart from the ones that cannot be counted as break ups)

50. Most tiresome thing you’ve ever experienced/done?
This is called clairvoyance...You got it...this is a madass list...ufff...

Bin Ladies

First, the conclusion: Chics should learn not just table manners, but also after-dinner manners!

Lets say Srinath and Rekha plan to go out for dinner...

SMS from Rekha: What you doing?

Srinath: Scratching my head (But you cant say the truth and hence) Just thinking of you!

Rekha: Dont lie. Achaa Suun..Lets go for dinner na?

Srinath: No I feel tired and moreover I am better off watching the weather report chic than come with you (Its rude to say and hence)...yeah sure, but where do we meet?

Rekha: Am not feeling well yaar. Am running cold (yuck) and bloody sneezing from morning (how disgusting to say this). Can you come and pick me up from home?

Srinath: No, am not your driver or doctor. If you are really sick why dont you dial 1066 for an ambulance (Its not kind of us to say this and hence) oops did you see the doctor? Did you take medicines?

Rekha: No, its ok (and then why the hell rekha was whining a seconds ago?).

Srinath: Ok be at home. I will pick you up (after stuffing my wallet to feed your bottomless tummy)

Rekha: No No...Gar pe aunty hai (Aunty who cleans her house). I will come to the street end (You mean after locking the aunt in the house?) (Come on, if you dont trust us, why the ...do you call me all the way there for picking you up?)

Srinath arrives, wading through traffic, autorickshaw threats and signals..

Rekha: So nice of you to have come. You look tired. You should have told me na?(Like what...Bitch I know you are hungry and no one is there to feed you today and neither am i in a mood to fund you?)

As Rekha takes him through the minutest details of her flu and cold with punctating sneezes, they reach Khana Kazana...

Srinath tries to make her take the lead. But Rekha is stubbonly rooted to the platform. Srinath is familiar with this and has no choice but to ask her what she wants..

Dho aloo paratha, ek subzi aur curd (whatever happened to the flu)

Srinath puts up with the boring story of rekha univ admits and pathetic GMAT score for 28th time. He knows beyond doubt that she is dumb, the universities also know it and Rekha still doesnt!

Now comes the moment of truth!

The bill has arrived! 120 bucks (90 on rekha and 30 on srinath) + an icecream as a afterthought takes up another 35 bucks.

Rekha puts an expression like "Do-I-even-know-you-before? Suddenly-you-seem-out-of-focus-and-blurred! Oops-let-me-drag-a-few-yards-and-stand-there-till-you-pay"

Srinath gets mighty irritated at the fact that he needs to foot the bill and there is not even a sign of effort from Rekha to share it! "It's-your-job-man" attitude?

Now lets cut back to the real story!

Our man had to go through this harrowing experience every time. Only that the girls kept changing. One fine day he decided, he will pay them back.

One such dinner was over and the girl as usual had a "I will switch off from the world till you pay the bill" posture. Our man walks up to her and hands over the bill. She is puzzled, rightfully because she has never seen a hotel bill ever since she is late teens!

Our man goes on says "You ate blah and I also ate blah. We are not hub and wifey nor are you my girl friend. We are just two friends who have come out for a dinner. Why is that I always spend every penny when we both go out and you never realize there is an eight letter word called courtesy?"

Silence...storm..cyclone...bill paid in full and cyclone crosses the sea, besant nagar beach and heads back in an auto.

Srinath enjoys the weather report at home (clear skies, no cyclone) while Rekha is down again with fever and Praveen is taking her out for dinner!