And after many many years...

You know what is the problem with mouth wash? When you use it soon after you wake up, it tricks your mind into thinking you have already brushed your teeth. And then you know what happens.

Talking about dental hygiene, isn't dentistry a high pressure job? If you were seeing a general physician for a fever, you wouldn't mind if the doctor is sick himself. Or an ophthalmologist who wears glasses himself. These things happen to human beings. But imagine you are leaning back on the dentist's chair, and look up into a row of rotting teeth.

By the way, I'm in Frankfurt now. My first trip to Europe... or rather outside of India actually. Oh, there was this 3 year stint in Mauritius, but what is the point of calling it a foreign trip if 3 out of every 4 people you meet looks like and is from Uttar Pradesh.

And its surprising to see this page still exists. I thought this blog was inactive long enough for Google to reallocate the space for another of their battles with Facebook. Given Facebook's popularity, Google would definitely need all their resources. Funny thing is, there is a group called "Facebook is getting boring" on Facebook itself. I think I might just join there.

Another update is that I have a fiancee now. Which means all my crude comments, uncouth language, and filthy crap of my wannabe "cool-don't care a damn-bachelor" days are over. Well, if that is what she thinks, she's got something else coming; and I have her permission for that.

Lot of funny tid bits to write about Frankfurt and Germany and some interesting experiences already. But its been a long day, and looks like a similar one tomorrow. Moreover, how much can someone talk to himself. It seems Mars has seen more traffic than this blog has, thanks to that rover that got lost there or something. So auf wiedersehen. 

The Iyer Express

As is the norm here, let me start by saying that its been a really long time i've visited this blog, and even longer since I've written something here. Let me tell you, its not for want of eligible things coming to mind, but for want of opening the laptop, connecting to the internet and typing out those long sentences. I was hoping Steve Jobs would do something about this too, but sadly the great man has moved on, God bless his soul!

So then, the other option was to keep the laptop open and then wait for the whole story to build in your mind. But then, in such cases one usually ends up waiting for a whole week, and laptops just don't come with that sort of battery backup these days. And so the next best thing to do is to not wait for the whole story, but to just list down random short sentences. Anyway, in this fast food world who has the patience to read through whole stories, right? In fact, if you've even read this far, please go get yourself a candy.

Here I am in the chair car of this train from Bangalore to Chennai. And as far as the eye can see, ofcourse given the low height of the seat and my neighbour's bag poking my eye every now and then, there are only senior citizens. Hey, please don't get me wrong, my due respects to all of them. But it is a 6 hour long ride and one could do with some eye-candy. By the way, looking at the amount of silk and kumkum in the coach, guess there is an IRCTC discount for Iyers traveling today. If any of my Iyer friends are reading this, please don't mind. In all probability you would be busy plotting the curve of a space shuttle or breaking down sub-atomic particles to pay any heed to this anyway.

This next though won't make much sense to you if you come from north of the Vindhyas. If you are one, am sure you have better things to do, like say, helping a shirt off Salman Khan or watching Shahrukh fly. (there, now I've offended my north-Indian friends too). I saw a malayalam movie recently - Rathi Nirvedam. It is a remake of a 70s movie by the same name, that delves on an adolescent boy's infatuation/fantasies for an older woman. If you are a woman reading this, go ahead and say "Yuck !". If you are a guy, please take a moment here to get all nostalgic brother.

Ofcourse, I watched this movie only for the juicy parts that were promised. But in the process, couldn't help but admire the progressive outlook of the malayalam movie industry of those days, right from the directors, actors to the audience. Several mainstream movies of the period touched on topics like extra-marital affairs, child molestation, incest, pre-marital sex, homo-sexuality, etc and with explicit visuals as well. Sadly, my non-mallu friends in Chennai only focused on these visuals and got convinced that all mallu movies are porn films. By the way, one need only to think openly about such a subject in Tamil Nadu and every woman and man with their chastity, morality and virginity intact will take to the streets, supported by their household, their community, their government and their Gods. But then again, thats just my opinion.

Efficient Me !

Ever since I started writing (about myself, as is always the case) I've been deprecating myself consistently in my blogs. Hey, someone has to criticize me, right? "I do it so I always remain grounded", is what I say. But ask me after a few beers and I'll let it out that I'm very afraid of getting assaulted by someone who disapproves of what I write about them. Anyway, I was so smug about this practice until someone told me that people who make fun of themselves are actually more egoistic than others. So I have made a decision to intersperse such entries with some factual ones now and then. (Please note, as I write this I'm being strongly distracted by some lovely ladies running around in skimpy skirts on tv... some French Open or something).

Coming back to the topic, one may ask what is so efficient about me. In fact, if you had studied or worked with me at some point in the past, you might even start feeling nauseous at this point. But before you mess up whatever is in front of you, let me add that this efficiency is not in academics or work or any of those mundane activities we waste the best parts of our lives on. This efficiency works in a way that is not so obvious. Its end result on the other hand, definitely is. You just need to take a look at me to see it. Let me explain.

We need to eat so that we can sustain ourselves, so that we have the energy to do our day to day activities. (Some of us eat for entirely different reasons, but lets not get into that now.) The more active your lifestyle is, the more food you need to consume. Unless your aim is to get into Kareena Kapoor's pants. (Hey, don't get me wrong here. I was referring to her size zero trousers.) In this aspect, most people are normal. Which means, they consume six to eight rotis, a handful of rice, some dal, couple of vegetables, 3-4 "chai"s with snacks or chaat, etc. in a day; which then provides them just enough energy to go to office, work for ten hours, return home, watch TV, play with the kid, fight with the spouse and sleep.

When I say I'm efficient, what I mean is this. In a day I eat a maximum of 6 rotis, 2 "chai"s, 2 fresh fruit juices, some dal, some vegetables and maybe a muffin. I avoid rice, or "chaat" or any other "energy-rich" junk food at all costs. I take the bus to office, work 8 to 10 hours a day, walk atleast a couple of miles in office (what with my employers setting up a 43 acre theme park and calling it an office), return home, watch TV, then run like a madman around my colony for 30 minutes, and then sleep. And yet, my body amazingly manages to add atleast an inch around my waist every month on a regular basis. Now, if this is not efficiency, what is?

By the way, if anyone is looking to make plans with me, I'll be busy next week. Apparently the Japs are coming to town to take a look at me.

Another one bites the dust !

Prescript: This post is in utter disgust and on an emotional low. So, if you came looking for some humor, go and laugh at your own life. I'm sure you have enough things to laugh at there.

I have given up my good friend. I have been beaten unfair and square by the many learned men of the past. Men who have spent their entire lives coming up with different ways to screw up a young man's life. Such as religion for one. As a Hindu, look at all those gorgeous Muslim, Parsi and Christian women that I can only see, but never lay a finger on. Language for another. What chance does a 'madrasi' with his classical music and 'poda vada' language have with a kudi who sways to Daler Mehendi and sweet Punjabi gaali? What screwed my life, or is in the process of screwing (and quite successfully at that too) my life is these learned men's invention called the horoscope.

After several attempts at love, interspersed with hairline fractures, misaligned jaws and claw scars in embarrassing places, I resigned to the process of an arranged marriage - the secret weapon that every boy's family uses to get him together with a girl he wouldn't otherwise have had a rat's ass chance to be in the vicinity of, let alone date. And since no human being in his or her sane senses would conduct an arranged marriage without a horoscope, the well-wishers promptly went ahead and made one for me. After all, these astrologists too have wives and kids to feed, parrots to groom, and betel leaves and black ink to buy. Aah, but thats a different tale. So the horoscope was made, and what do we see... it has some complicated parameter misalignment which mandates a similar crap in the girl's one as well. In other words, it reduces by more than half whatever little chance the guy has at procreation.

Apparently there is some scientific reasoning behind these things like astrology, horoscope, crystal ball gazing, shit, etc. they say. The only reasoning I see is population control. Take away my chances of getting married, and how will I have kids, right? Yes, those wily learned men from long long ago were probably very thoughtful indeed. Who knows?

Well, what I do know is that this lovely lady I really liked refuses to have anything more to do with me, because some star or planet many millions of kilometers away happened to remain where it remained some thirty one years ago.

The Fillers

Yeah, thats exactly what this blog is about - Fillers. Tidbits from here and there that are too insignificant to engage my "too easily distracted these days" mind long enough to form a post on their own. I had been thinking that the blog can wait for my yoga remedies and exotic medicines to have the desired effect on my concentration. But of late, I have come to know that there are quite a few pretty damsels eagerly awaiting the next letter to litter these pages. And hell, for a bachelor thats a much more effective remedy than yoga I tell you.

So what is this problem with us? By us, I mean we lost souls in the 28-35 odd age bracket with shifting hair lines and bellies, one receding and the other advancing, who work longer, sleep lesser and eternally dream of that 'one day'. We have other characteristics too you know - we read more but understand less, watch more but see less, hear more but listen less, talk more (yeah, there is nothing less about this one), spend more but buy less... damn, this is getting too serious for my liking. Well you know the kind, the typical Raghav and Swapna from my previous blog. So, to repeat, what is the problem with us?

Actually, you may be wondering what problem I am talking about, because we do tend to have a lot. But I think the biggest one of them all is our illusion that we still look 21.And worse, we dress like we are still 21. Low waist jeans were good during college when we were skinny, mainly cause we didn't have the money to buy all that junk food I guess. And canvas shoes are meant for school kids, its a freaking uniform accessory. We uncles would look funny in one, not to mention its bad for our arthritic knees (by the way mine are in blue). Oh, and of course, those school bags that we carry to office. We do claim they are laptop bags and are really comfortable to carry around. Hey, I'm comfortable in a lungi, but that doesn't mean... and if it looks like a school bag, it is a school bag boss. But you know what, it doesn't matter, for probably 10 years down the line we will laugh over these too, like we do now over our old fascinations for baggy jeans, backstreet boys and Prabhu Deva's hair style.

Talking about dress, what a convenient contraption the sari is, right? It can cure obesity in the blink of an eye. Little wonder the entire women population of Tamil Nadu wear one even at home. Don't misunderstand me, I really respect them. And more so the "6-feet-in-any-direction" personal space they carry around. I am only miffed that we men don't have any such devices to disguise our frames in. It really is embarrassing you know, when a lady you want to talk to is prodded by your tummy before your head enters the audible zone. So please exercise folks, please do. People our age are dropping like dead flies these days, due to health problems. But again, this is not an advise portal. I'm not running an ashram you know, although by what I see on TV and youtube, it definitely is a very pleasurable profession.

It is now 2 am and a good time to retire. So until the next blue moon, I guess. Till then, pretty damsels, keep peeking in. Uncle needs your motivation.

Virility, Virality and Incredulity

A school friend of mine recently mailed our school email group announcing the arrival of his new-born son. I naturally responded, with my congratulatory message along with a good luck wish for long nights of feeding and changing soiled nappies. Now the whole world knows I am this bachelor who, apparently, has been ‘struggling’ forever to lose that title. So, there was another natural response, this time from one smart alec, who wanted to know how I would be aware of such baby matters, and if I were secretly a father to a blue-eyed, dark skinned lad in an exotic hideout. Now however much I would wish to respond in the affirmative to that question, with some juicy unasked for details as well, I sadly have nothing to quote. Sigh… gone are the days when one couldn’t have babies without being wedded, even if it may not be your wife who is delivering them.

But hey, it got me thinking. Is it that easy to have a child out of casual sex? I mean, look at the what my favourite hindi and mallu directors have been feeding me during my growing years. The hapless heroine is raped by a monster; and lo and behold, she is pregnant. And in real life married couples need to keep going at it for years to get the same result, if they are lucky. Funny, isn’t it?

I tell you what, it is because these villains are in much better physical shape, considering their energetic life-style – horse riding, jumping off moving cars and tall buildings, beating up an old man who would also inevitably be blind and lame in a subji mandi with all vegetables conveniently positioned to be thrown up in the air once every two seconds, you know what I am talking about. Or perhaps these bad guys have a better method for sex; not surprising with all their rape practice right? So, if you look at it, there definitely are a few things yesteryear’s villains can teach today’s average Raghav, married to a widening Swapna, working as IT managers in a technology park situated 30 miles from the nearest civilization. But do they have to time to learn any of those tricks? Well, thats a different matter altogether, isn't it?

Flattered to be Deceived

Time flew by, memories forgotten, wounds healed, self doubts subsided,

Then came the rain, very swift, washing away everything in its melancholy

Memories rekindled, fragrance everywhere, life in all its splendour,

Heart bursting at its seams with joy, shambles broken, riding high and free

Just as swift the arrival, so the passing, without rhyme or sense or reason

While the thunderstorms drench bountiful hearts miles away, my heart yearns for what could have been.

The flattery before the deceit, or sub plot of an eternal act, induced by a sense of irony

What does it matter, as I hear it's faint beats fall far away amidst exalted beings.

Do curses work in today's world? You laugh in my face, you say its a farce

But why then do I feel a cursed soul, carrying the burdens of actions past?

I don't see this drought ever seeming to end, the aches so familiar finding respite

The brief period of euphoria in your shower only churned the pains of its thoughts to last.

I hear the thunderbolts from oceans away jolt the frail strings so near to me

Devastated, lifeless and asynchronised seem the strains of music from your stirrings born

I wonder how I let myself get drawn into it's temporal illusion, to be deceived. Yet again.

I find myself where I see the rose, once again I grope for it, but I only feel the thorn.