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Friday, July 27, 2007

PilGrim

In a moment of... well I wouldn't call it weakness but let's just say rationally challenged thought, I promised my granddad that I would trudge up the famed seven hills to pay obeisance to the family deity. Actually if I remember correctly he said he'd do the trudging if I made it to the hallowed halls of Neurosurgery and I offered to accompany him. So we left about 36 hours ago on this shady Mysore-Thirupati-Chennai Passenger that stopped on almost every two-bit platform and picked up more despicable people. Why despicable? Let me elucidate. So this large extended family gets on and occupies most of my lower berth, preventing my reclining and drifting off. Then proceeds to consume portions of pomegranate and then tossing the bits unceremoniously, not out the window but on the freaking floor of the compartment. Cursed socialism for a while then just decided to pick the piece up and toss it out hoping that setting an example would help. But nay, the man continues to thup seeds hither and thither. Now the seeds of a pomegranate are meant to be eaten.
On an aside, thup, which is tamil for spit, is the first evidence of vernacular onomatopoeia that I've ever encountered. And how good an example. ThupI, so simple, yet so clear. Any more examples would be received with much gratitude and appreciation.
Anyway in some form cruel justice, one of the extended family who was on the wait-list ended up sleeping on the thupped upon floor.
So we arrived at Thirupati on the Pilgrim express and a short ride later entered the vast halls of "srinivasam" the pilgrim services centre setup by the TTD at around 5 AM. No rooms allotments till six screamed a board and while perusing the sign a man walks up and offers to get a room. For a little more than what is the regular price. Went ahead and gave him the go to do the needful, slowly coming to terms with the fact that this was to be a regular feature.
Wash and breakfast later, we began the trudge up 3,665 steps over 9km. Finished it in about 3 hours and my granddad's my current hero. Unfortunately between getting up and getting to the correct queue we'd gotten too late to make any of the special offering deals that they have up there. So we hobbled along to the above 75 queue and holding up my hobbling granddad got in for the usual 5 second look at the deity before being shoved away by the crowd controlling scouts who are unfortunately ever prepared.
Took a bus back and planned to visit the temple dedicated to the Goddess Padmavati (consort to the God on the hills). There too we found the queues all closed for the next hour and refused to bribe some local tout and entered the temple hoping to get a glimpse. And how we did. The deity was being taken around the temple on a palanquin and a good look ensured that we didn't have to spend the next couple of hours in some queue, which seems to be the way of life in Thirupati.
The town itself is hell. Built around the ten odd temples with nothing outside of a train station, a bus terminus and about a million lodges. And advertisements for Bio beer and Bio whiskey which I did not have the guts to try.
No pictures due to an embargo on cellphones and cameras in the temple complexes.
But it's strange when a temple becomes a business or sorts where one can get ahead in the queue depending on the amount one spends and having spent that much time, energy and money all one gets is a 5 second glimpse. Not that I believe too strongly, but still. Actually it's worse if one doesn't really have the faith. But it's done. I'm aching all over and have a couple of days before I start off my residency so rest it is...

Wednesday, July 18, 2007


I've discovered a lost passion. The sheer joy of writing. Not on a keyboard as most writing is done nowadays but by hand. And not with a gel, a ball-point or even a Parker roller ball, but with ink. As I write this at close to midnight the only sounds I hear are the gentle scratches of a Lamy on paper and it's slowly becoming a very comforting sound.
The nib glides over the paper leaving behind a trail of waterproof black ink and thoughts are given form and substance. The romance of a pen writing about the emotions it evokes is hard to ignore.
Ink pens, I rediscovered thanks to two people. One, who gave me one before I left Bangalore for my short stint at Delhi and another who shared his passion with me and showed me what joy writing could bring. My collection has grown since then. Foraging through old cupboards to find relics of a lost time and cringing while buying an expensive Sheaffer. And not regretting it one bit after the first stroke it makes.
It's the nibs that fascinate me. How with time the abrasions on paper, which are ironically there to hold and bind ink, burnish the tips to an angle specific to the writer's style. To an extent that the only mark of respect one can give another's ink pen is to allow the pen to write as it it has a will of it's own. To an extent that after a few years the pen itself has a character. To an extent that it belongs, like no other possession, almost exclusively to you.It's a lost passion they say. Who has the time or energy to fill ink nowadays, when at, often, less than a hundredth of the price of a good fountain pen, one can get a gel.
Who has the time to clean nibs and buy good ink, to mourn a bent nib or a cracked body.
But the joy of feeling a pen slide across paper, giving ideas form, leaving a trail of black across white, is one that must be experienced to understand.
I have a new passion. I love it.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

How to save a life.

This has been on repeat. This makes sense and is a brilliant song.

How to save a life - The Fray

Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
You begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

[How To Save A Life Lyrics on http://www.lyricsmania.com]
As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
How to save a life
How to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Listen, learn, enjoy.

Friday, July 06, 2007

Vista.

So it comes to pass that my dad got himself a suitcase disguised as a laptop. Or a laptop disguised as a suitcase as the case may be. It said 15 (inches) but looks 17 (like most of the women I meet nowadays, I mean what is it with precociousness(?)) and runs on Vista. While I agree that Vista is pleasing to the eye and when given enough time, space and energy, performs like none other, but who has 40GB of harddisk space and 2GB of RAM to spare. And spare is the key word. If you have 2GB and you have Vista, then even Solitaire, which I strangely cannot find, doesn't move the cards like it should. But it looks good. That I have to give the boys at MS. Clean lines, transparent windows and good hardware intensive animation effects on opening, closing and copying and deleting. But the hyperactive security that apparently makes Vista so much more safer to buy things off of Ebay and the like is the one thing that bugs the life out of me. Any new software, anything deleted, any internet activity is questioned close to 3 times. And I don't yet know how to turn that off. I'm sure some smart ass somewhere is smirking and saying, "Dude, if you turn that off it becomes XP with cool graphics?" And considering I don't really give two hoots for cool graphics I think I'm going to stick to XP for a while. Call me old-fashioned but I think Vista in my life shall wait a while.
In other things, watched Die Hard 4. Full paisa vasool only. Bruce Willis quips and shoots his way through a million bad guys and one bad girl (maggie Q, I like.) and does stuff that would make the Boss (you know which one) look with a raised eyebrow and say, "I want an F35 to jump off a 20 wheeler truck onto whist some freeway all around me in collapsing. And I want it to look good."
Overall I'd give it about 3/5 for decent effects, good screenplay (what soopar whistle evoking dialogues) and bruce willis. Some sentiment gets dished out at random points through the movie which wasn't quite there in the first 3 movies but hell everyody gets old...
Also watched Dogma and came up with the conclusion (again) that Bennifer and Matt are brilliant and that movie in the midst of all the jokes hits a hard lesson home. Watch it if you haven't yet.
And finally the techies at my source of great internet connectivity this north of the Vindhyas set up a hardware firewall to prevent others such as myself from downloading copious quantities of someone else's intellectual property. And like the builders of that labyrinth, they can't bypass it. So many megabits of bandwidth lie unused and underutilized and I bleed...

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Picturesque Speechless...

I miss those little comics in readers digest.
So, it's my last week or so in the NCR and what better way to let it all go than with a few pictures. Yeah I'm too lazy to write.
We had a lightning storm a few days ago and here's what a microsecond looked like.


And a few hours previously...Blow it up and desktop it if you will, it really ain't so bad...
And then one night while trolling through the streets of the capital after 4 bottles of Kalyani Black Label, which incidentally I haven't had in six odd years and it's back and just as good as it used to be, in a friend's Alto, I commented that the lack of a car stereo was maybe reducing the quantum of enjoyment a tad. He then proceeded to provide the required music in the following manner. The red rectangle has kind of, sort of been blown up below.
And finally though I think it's a crappy airline, like most of the low budget players this was funny...

Enjoy, ladies and gentlemen. Till I get home, adieu.