The Year of the Hendrix
We know that each civilization has its own ways of naming years. The Chinese have the most popular 'naming conventions'... I, for one, was born on the year of the rooster... I would have preferred a ferocious dragon or a majestic lion... rooster? But who can help? I was lost in thoughts as the year 2005 quietly slipped by...
I figured that we needed our own conventions... I was tripping on Hendrix as these thoughts ran freely and the music flowed... Why not years after classic rock stars? I mean, most of them are not alive. So, any legend status you gonna give them, the future generations will buy. Even the guys alive have already been elevated to a high level. Thats it... The years will be named after these people.
To start with, I toyed with the 'year of the Zeppelin' or the 'year of the Stones'... But Hendrix's music was too arresting. I always liked the way the guy went about his music with a laid back attitude. The raw electric sound coupled with black American voice worked wonders for my mood.
My top picks from the man:
1. When the wind cries Mary
(
"somewhere the queen is weeping,somewhere the king has no wife...)2. Hey Joe (the Experience's first song)
3. Voodoo Child (need I say more)
4. Manish Boy (Muddy Waters cover)
5. All along the watchtower (a true classic)
Lets salute the year of the Hendrix
Afterthought:
As Vijay (my rock guru) has pointed out, I have let some great numbers slip. I'll mention them here... Now I'm pretty confused with the order. So, let me take the liberty to say: 'The songs are in no particular order'.
6. Foxy Lady (you have to see Wayne's World to appreciate this lick)
7. Crosstown Traffic (The man's voice weaves the magic)
8. Are you experienced? (Guitars!)
Pope John Paul II shock: he's still alive
(found somewhere... interesting)In an astonishing turn of events, the Vatican has revealed that Pope John Paul II has not died overnight. Speaking outside Rome's Gemelli hospital, papal spokesman Joaquin Navarro-Valls told reporters: "Today there is no reason to be alarmed." But this announcement did little to quell the growing sense of unease at the wheezing pontiff's continued failure to stop living.
"We don't actually know exactly what is wrong with him," commented Michael Bridger, a specialist at Derriford Hospital in Plymouth, England. Perhaps what went wrong - what kept that gnarled little heart beating - is the clawing fear that without his guidance the Church might actually slip into the 21st Century.
'Laryngospasm' is what the Vatican doctors called it. This acute respiratory infection, brought on by a bout of flu, would normally be enough to kill someone as debilitated with age and Parkinson's disease as the Pope is. But something kept the man alive. Was it the power of faith? An all-cleansing, all-healing holiness? Or an unquenchable desire to supress the rights of women worldwide, and contribute evermore to the suffering and deaths of tens of millions through the spread of HIV/AIDS?
Fifteen years ago, when he was a spry young Pope in his late sixties, he began speaking out against condoms: "It is morally illicit to champion a prevention of the AIDS sickness based on recourse to means and remedies that violate the authentically human sense of sexuality." And he hasn't looked back. With his blessed assistance, millions have contracted the disease and perished, and millions more good Catholics are lining up to die.
Unlike Pope John Paul II. The man is god-damned immortal.
Bangalore Blues - Vol 3 - (Fainting)
Let me tell you this…fainting is one of those gifts from God. There are a lot of things we would have done without. The diseases for instance…Men would have died in the same pace by just killing each other or getting knocked a million different ways by machines. Then why diseases? Apart from being a pain in the wrong place, these diseases are a source of embarrassment. A bloody cold for example, you never know how a cough or a sneeze is going to turn out. It could just be the one that showcases to the world; your rich share of one of God’s crankiest creations…the phlegm. It could be one of those nerve wrecking ones that leaves you breathless and the other people handling a rush of homicidal instincts. While there is always this danger of your cough deciding not to grace the occasion with a perfect one leaving you sounding like a cross between a town bus shifting gear and a dog yelping.
On the other hand, lets consider fainting. In my opinion, fainting has always been grossly undermined of its purpose. Fainting is a message from God that roughly translates to “You’re in deep shit mate…I don’t see how you get out. So, take a break”. But men, a constant source of embarrassment to God that we are, never get this message but try our best to prevent it. And the people around the guy who faints are to be blamed too. These guys dutifully go about searching for water or soda to ‘revive’ our guy who’s just accepted the divine gift and taken a break. They get this guy out of the Shangri La violently and making him sit on the road offering a trip to the nearby hospital, which is the last place, the guy would’ve wanted to go.
Me, being a semi – veteran in fainting, would try to describe this divine gift the way I saw it. We have always wondered as kids and sometimes even now, how the world spins so fast and still we don’t see or feel a thing. Well here’s your answer for it. Fainting is a divine path through which you get to see the earth go about this intriguing business. Slowly, as the room or whatever places you get the gift starts spinning. Immediately, you are faced by self-denial about what’s happening and you are also launched into a deep thought process about just giving up or fighting it. This thought process and the confusion arising out of it actually fuels the faint process.
As you launch yourself into the magic carpet ride, you see a lot of interesting things. I have to warn you here, if you by any chance saw brief incidents of your childhood like say, your first bicycle ride or playing with your dog in a park, you better press the panic button. This is what normal people refer to as “your whole life flashes by”. Sorry to tell you, but you ain’t fainting mate! You’re dying. How you handle that is not what I can comment on, as I’m still alive.
Fainting in a room where the AC’s on is an added pleasure. As you profusely sweat during the first few minutes, the AC works with the sweat working up a cool atmosphere. As the people or furniture or in general the room start to spin with increasing acceleration, you find yourself falling into a deep crevice or space. This is supposed to be enjoyed with perfection. But it is best practices shit to just wave your arms frantically and look for a chair or table because the physical translation of this phase is you’re falling down from whatever position you are.
You hit the ground and this is the Shangri La state. The most enjoyable state which is often broken in mid-pleasure by the anti-fainting elements. This is when these guys just about manage to run and find water even in a city like Chennai within minutes. In my fainting career, I was hauled out of this state by these losers all the time. Though when you get cleared up and get settled in a bed, you feel light and drowsy, it comes a distant second to the Shangri la state.
I appeal to all of you intelligent people out there. Those of you who respect drugs and music and fun, who know the meaning of life, please don’t do this to the next faintee you encounter. On the other hand, I suggest you protect the faintee from these unscrupulous elements. I do accept this is a losing battle, which is already firmly over, and there are too many enemies. But you don’t get to faint often and when you do, you gotta get the most of it.
“And you just had some kind of mushroom,
and your mind is moving low…”
(from the Jefferson Airplane song White Rabbit)
Bangalore Blues - Vol 3 - (Kidnapping)
'What is...and what should never be' Que: What is? Ans: I am a software engineer Que: What should never be? Ans: Me a software engineer In this industry of uncool, in this industry of lies and falsehood, where art thou heading? For this, I ain't got no answer. As we lie to each other and to ourselves that this is what we wanted to do all out lives, lets stop and think...As the guys around me, try to stare at a stupid monitor and 'code' (this is a word that should be banned) some weird set of grammatically incorrect words with great difficulty and ass-ache just to create or make dissappear, a non-entity called a 'file' (another entry to the ban list), I can't help but wonder why have we become so stupid...
On the other hand, we should consider 'kidnapping and ransom', which I'm sure no one would oppose when I state that its cooler. It is an industry which would see no end as long as mankind exist on this planet and maybe when we disappear, whatever that comes to replace us would also want to kidnap one or two of its kind. Apart from being exciting, kidnapping has a very good success rate where the kidnapee falls in love with the kidnapper (its common human knowledge that the former is a woman and the latter is a man). This is because, there is not much competition for the girl as in a software company. You'd probably have some of your gang but you could always convince them to declare brotherhood to the kidnapee. You don't have to report to anyone and you get to go to really romantic locations.
Consider the kidnapping strongholds...South America, Sicily, Former Soviet Union, Former Yugoslavia, etc., need I comment on the 'exoticness' of these locations? This would give you an idea of the ass-ache saved in begging someone to send you to USA (not so good a location when we consider the afore-mentioned) Kidnapping also gets you to be respected by the men that matter... Look at our very own Veerappan? He'll kidnap some sorry assed full length moron once in while and everyone talks about him. Then you lie low and take a break (which obviously you can't afford in a software industry). Instead of your whole world running around a single team with an idiot (default settings) as a TL, the world would run around (or after?) you for a change.
Coming to the most important point of all, the money, people show you the money if you make your moves correctly (you get the project done when you code correctly). Wait! I know what you're coming at...You're saying you could get your ass busted in no time. True. You can't just about walk into the road and frisk the next chick that walks by...But at the same time, you get your ass busted when you dont report some imaginary bugs or dont finsish some fixed lines of gibberish (code) in given time. You think about jail, I dont think it makes much difference anyways. You go home only to sleep...sleep in a jailhouse...what difference does it make? So brethren! this is where the future is. The industry needs us and software dont.
"talk about your plenties, talk about your ills... one man gathers what another man spills"
Bangalore Blues - Vol 2
________________________________________________________________________________ Volume 2 - Prem Kumar Shining! "I get knocked down but I get up again...you never gonna keep me down." Crisis in the grapevine again (I dont know if we'll ever be free of it) As Bangalore saw historic highs in the mercury last week, there was one man who was unperturbed with the whole temperature scenario. He that grew up in the scorching sun of Trichy...he that roamed the streets of the Central Tamil town in famed 42s in the summer...but legend had it that he shalt be struck down in Bangalore for a microscopic 38... only one explanation for it...shit happens!As I go to the Bangalore airport with measles on my face and fever in my ass, I wonder if I'd ever reach Chennai. But is'nt it a wonder? 40 mins flat and my ass is on a bike on the Mount Road...
But lets come to what we were gonna talk on... ahem...Prem Kumar. If there is someone up there who gives a shit about everyone on the earth- called God, then surely, he should give a shit about one particular Prem Kumar working in one particular MindTree in Bangalore. Last week he did give a shit about this Prem Kumar. After months of hardwork and perseverence, God gave him a raise! A reason for Prem to anchor his ass for another 10 years. Prem Kumar has secretly revealed to all the people he knows in Bangalore that actually he has never been posted in a project and he holds the record for maximum crashes of the comp by any software professional dating back to the days of vaccum pumps! Does'nt he hold the key there? That would atleast earn him a raise...
But God shuffled his feet again. Nah nah! there should be equal division of misery and happiness. So he messed the shit up with the proposed Coorg trip by scheming a 'Psycho style tour scandal' in the office. But I message him today and it appears God has shuffled his feet again...the kid is in Coorg but another shuffle there...it seems Coorg sucks big time! But seasoned Prem watchers would read the above sentense differently...Coorg is actually a good place then. If any of you guys considering pouring your money into it, go right ahead, you have expert opinion. These are confusing times for Prem Kumar...He is one of the smartest on the block and he has one of the meanest machines in the country but still the women are deserting him. News from the grapevine is psst psst: Shivram had given lifts twice since he came to Bangalore but what about our guy? We've given him 2 more weeks to prove his mettle.
Lets wait and watch...
Bangalore Blues - Vol 1
Men,This is the new and improved version of the letter from Bangalore. Since matters that are not perceivable by the limited range of the human mind that you guys possess, we have found it inevitable that such accomplished writers as Ram and myself have to bring out the issues together. Here are the latest from the Bangalore grapevine. We are right now dealing with a wide gamut of crises in the city...Ram has a midlife crisis, I have doubts over the essential concept of life, Thimings has a career best cold (You guys would certainly not have forgotten the Great Thalai cold which nearly spanned almost a year- well double it and you might arrive somewhere near Thiming's current bout. Sooner or later, thimings would cough out his insides and I'll have a hell lot of work cleaning the misery) and last but by no means the least, Prem Kumar is still alive.
You might be aware of Ram's unsuccessful foray into romance. He fell in love with some girls and anti-social elements like Kandy and Narayanan launched detailed research and found out that men wont fall for those girls even for charity. Ram had to accept defeat (accept that the girls really looked awful) more than once and this even got doubts in a seasoned Ram watcher like me. Then came Shresta Sinha into Ram's life (the only advantage being Kandy was never able to see her to size her up) and we contemplated various options like kidnapping her in an omni or Ram raping her in the Wipro canteen. But since she was a Bihari and since Ram had a none too strange wish to live, we decided it ain't worth the effort. On top of everything, Ram's PM from across the pond has come back and spoiled the tranquility- this will explain the mid-life crisis to an extent though you have to be in the scenic splendour of the Thames to understand quite clearly.
As usual, we are trying our best to drive home a few points into Prem Kumar's head. The first one being the essential concept of his existance which everyone execpt Prem Kumar seem to understand. Among other things, we are giving our best to get Prem to attend some big company's interview (I told him that he should use the boom in the industry and try to go to a better salary but he said; in a slump, Mindtree would not fire anyone...typical Prem Kumar-ean philosophy) OK guys since I have a headache, wait for the next edition
Dosa Hut epic – Vol - 3
There was utter chaos in Chicago. The stocks plummeted and two senators and seven CEOs committed suicide. Catastrophe descended on the entire world. The last thing anybody wanted now was a child custody case and the Dosa Hut supremo grounded beneath it. Stock holders had mass brain hemorrhage.
Meanwhile, Raghu and Vasanth were back from Morocco. Things did get out of hand but never out of reach. With the typical calm and steely resolve, they set about doing the inevitable.
They entered the cozy Chicago bungalow.
"How bad is it?" wondered Vasanth aloud.
"I told you it was a bad idea" Thalai said and he made no attempt to hide his discontent.
"I know...but I guess this is actually what we wanted. We just have to make sure it doesn't happen again...more than once is not pleasant"
Thalai pondered over it...
"it did wonders for Mick Jagger... and the press love it"
"Yeah...we can turn the tide easily and make it work for us too" said Vasanth as he made himself comfortable by the pool side.
Thalai was walking at a furious pace...it generally meant nothing.
"Should we call Nadhas for this one?"
Vasanth nodded his head as he reached for the phone.
Some arbit land masses, oceans and islands away, the Mediterranean sun shined brightly. The Seville beach in Southern Spain was Nadhas' personal favourite. It was also crucial as the 'cargo' volume that crossed the Straits of Gibraltar was huge. It was so important that Nadhas spent most of the summer there. The loud beats of the hip hop music blared in the personalised giant speakers and tried to drown out the sound of the sea.
Nadhas sipped on the cocktail as he enjoyed the massage administered by the carefully handpicked and finest of the Spanish women-folk.
The phone rang.
Nadhas calmly took the .65 caliber and blasted the speakers of the stereo. He hated any kind of disturbance.
The phone still rang.
For a moment, Nadhas considered putting the Spanish chick out of service permanently. But then, logic dawned on him and he picked the phone
The conversation went so:
Nadhas - " " (a nod)
Vasanth- "Nadhas, Kozhi"
Nadhas - " " (a nod again)
click.
A very faint smile spread across Nadhas' face.
The same arbit landmasses, oceans and islands back, the city of Philadelphia was bustling with the usual action.
Kozhi briskly made his way to the subway station. He could not help feeling satisfied with himself. Nobody had even a faint clue about what he's just done. But this is how people climbed up didn't they? A few whispers won't hurt the big men...But it could help the smaller ones a lot.
As he descended the stairs, Kozhi had no clue what whispers did to big men... He didn't know they screamed...
He didn't know they killed...
Dosa Hut Epic - Vol 2
The Middle Days - Slight return -1
He could smell the perspiration sprouting out of his body. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to piss in his pants. He wondered when was the last time he pissed in his pants but his mind failed to guide him properly to his illustrious past... or atleast he felt so. The fear was becoming almost too hard to handle now. And the sudden flight of the file across the room zooming just inches away from his ear and out ofthe 83rd floor into the corporate oblivion of the Chicago maze did'nt help his fear at all. He was the Democratic senator and look at himself, fully exposed to the murderous wrath of Raghu, a stupid Indian who owned some dosa restaurants...
But that is where the power lay...like it or not. Raghu just made it clear that if there was anymore attempts by the government to prevent the hostile takeover launched by Dosa Hut Inc. on Microsoft, the senator can start counting the flowers on his grave. After the first bid was putto a grinding halt by the government when reports suggested that the Dosa Hut supremo Vasanth actually planned to convert the Microsoft Seattle facility into a giant Marijuana processing plant, Raghu had carefully singled out powerful senators and ordered them to meet in the Chicago hideout and put forth in clear terms, how he wanted the next bid to be handled...he asked the government to mind its fukcing business.
As Vasanth and Raghu became more and more popular, their haunts started influencing the market considerably...News headlines like this on theWall Street Journal, The Washington Post or the Daily Mirror was quite common..."Dosa Hut chief refuses to play golf with the US president...NYSE tumbles 658 points", "Dosa industry barons buy out thePrime Minister's stake in all the football clubs, the PM retires tobecome a Buddhist monk in Tibet", "Tech stocks tumble as Dosa Hut decides to buy all the taxis running in NY roads" (wondering what connection? there ain't any...there are no reasons for stocks totumble...they'll tumble when they feel like it)...it could be like this too..."Dosa industry moghuls Vasanth and Raghu have reportedly not touched beer for 2 days...Heinekken and Budwizer file for bankruptcy". You never know...
Big people, big controversies...and it never left Vasanth and Raghualone. One fine Autumn morning, the New York Post screamed thus:"Argentinian model Lorenza Lopez claims that the Dosa Hut supremo Vasanth is the father of her 3 year old daughter". Industry circles were shocked out of their wits. The Dosa Hut big two were in Morocco trying to bail out the Moroccan king who'd gotten himself caught for some drug shipping charges in the Meditteranean. Apparently, they'd lost two big containers of coke and acid in it...The Dosa Hut lawyers went bonker sover the news...What would it mean? What if she presses for child rearing charges? Men were despatched to Buenos Aires immediately but they came back with no comforting news. She will press for child rearing charges till the child reaches 18 years of age and she was looking at something in the region of a billion dollars a year.
As an immediate reaction, they released a press report in their Los Angeles stronghold. The NY Times was on the streets bellowing "Dosa hut chief vehemently denies having had anything to do with Lorenza Lopez's child. He was indeed in Sweden opening an AIDS research lab at the time when Ms Lopez claims to have had a relationship with Vasanth three years ago". This move proved to be a major miscalculation on Dosa Hut's part because, Lorenza Lopez, with a calculated calm, challanged Vasanth for a genetic test to prove his claim. The lawyers actually thought their supremo was in Sweden and decided to accept the challange in court and also lined up a defamation suit if the charge fails.
Then came the lightening from the sky...
To be continued...
Dosa Hut - Volume 1
This was a world famous (would become) story that originated in the dark alleys of Jaganathan Nagar, Coimbatore... A critically acclaimed true story, there is only one difference between the millions of true stories and this one. In a general context, one comes to know of a true story either by reading a book or watching a movie that was based on the true story that happened earlier. The uniqueness about our story here is that this story would be documented here and then it would happen in the future...
So all men, women, dead bodies and coma- staged organisms, read on for you are one among the privileged few to have a look at one of the epics the human mind has ever uncorked from the bottle of thoughts...
Early Days - Chapter 1.
Two events were destined to happen...as all events that are destined to happen happen, these two also happened fueling this epic. Two children were born in the great country of India. One, in the greatest place in the whole world - the Central Tamil town of Trichy and and one, in the not-so-great barbarian heartland of Delhi but with pure Tamil parentage (Though at later stages in the life of this man, his nationality would be questioned often). Though the two kids shared an extraordinary brilliance and an unflinching hatred for anything academic, they were raised in completely different surroundings. While the first was raised in the hot confines of the small town environment, the latter was exposed to great pillars of human civilizations like Tokyo, Damascus, Berne and Tehran.
But legend had it that they meet in a college in Coimbatore, a lovable Tamil city. From here on, I advice you mortals to brace yourself for what may come will shock you.
Right now, I'd give a brief documentary of what was already perceived in college. I intend to write a whole book on this. The readers are right now asked to assume that Vasanth Rao and Raghu Nandan have already reached USA illegally and have a minor network of Dosa making road caravans and are also familiar with the drug network of Los Angeles.
Their passion for the Tamil dish (dont call it South Indian...its Tamil) Dosai and their technical know-how of Indian way of mafia-ism is all they had at their hands and its all that is going to propel their rise in the corporate ladder. The major strength of these two men is that they have the capability of spotting the weakness of a person in no time and build on it (though they both were weak in evey aspect, there was no drought of common sense). And they found one thing when they entered America - the people are the dumbest of all kinds of civilization that ever reared its head on our small planet. As they made Dosas in the crime infested alleys of LA, there was a small difference in their approach...instead of targeting the Indian crowd, they targetted the Americans. The Americans naturally ended up paying more as this was something exotic...The menu rang names like Moserella cheese dosa, Dosa with macceroni, Pepperoni dosa.
As this continued, the brainchild was conceived...They decided to let the crowd decide on what you throw over the dosa...Conveniently, they called it 'toppings'. Our normal onion dosa, rava dosa, and masala dosa became 'dosa with laced French onions, Mongolian potatos and Ravva'. A dosa costs about 2% of the price of a pizza to make and they sold it at half the price of a pizza...Slowly, marketing strategies were evolved. As the technical nuances were concentrated by Vasanth (as he had inherited the art of dosa making from illustrious Tamil cooking ancestry), the political moves were handled to perfection by Raghu.
Televised commercials soon screamed in American house-holds about the hygiene of dosas and burned into the minds of the fitness freaked Americans. It proved how it is the best meal as its lower calorie than Pizza and any other American meal. Slowly the pizza companies started to piss in their pants. These two guys are here to stay. Slowly but surely, Vasanth and Raghu became men that mattered in LA. By this time, final touches were given to the first outlet of Dosa Hut in the the crime infested Sunset Boulevard of LA.
The next few years saw rapid expansion in California and slowly into Memphis, Dallas, Miami, Vegas, New York and Chicago.
Vasanth and Raghu were chased by the local press. Dosa Hut sponsored the LA Lakers team jersey. Democratic senators from California owed favours to them...and it was promptly extracted with finese by Raghu. With an eye on the future, a very close team of guys who've never done anything useful in life were roped in. The nigger gangs of LA considered them 'brothers' and the Mexicans trusted them more than their own people...The drug business was sky-rocketing. The latest innovation - Marijuana Roast scored massively among the addicts making Vasanth and Raghu highly revered in the Mafia circle. (Incidentally, Marijuana Roast sports this caption on the box - 'Using the very own Chennai-grown premium ganja blended to perfection in the foothills of Coimbatore').
to be continued...
The unveil...
Ladies and Gentlemen,
The Hall...
