And then I knew fear

Being completely devoid of emotion is an accusation that is frequently thrown at me by friends and foes alike. I agree with it to the extent that I am not emotionally expressive, but then I feel emotions just as much if not more, than any of my more 'humane' critics. And I still have a clear and not so pleasant memory of the first time I felt fear.

"I will tell Dad and then you know what will happen!" was a frequently cited threat by my Mom to stop my sister and me from whatever disastrous activity we were upto all through our early childhood. But with age, (i.e by the time we reached the age which has been rather fashionably named 'Tweens') we began to realize that this threat was hollow. Dad being the most benevolent and kindly gentleman he is, was hardly to take up a sudden liking for corporal punishment. In fact, the threat was always from Mom; with reflexes faster than Kung-fu Masters when it came to a quick twist of the ear or a painful chop in between the shoulder blades. So comfortable in the knowledge where the real danger lay, we carried on in our merry tantrum filled ways.

One day in a fit of false rage, over some highly irrelevant hurt, I kicked off both my slippers in the drawing room lauching them in an ideal trajectory for projectile motion. As fate would have it, the end point of one of my innocuous projectiles doing multiple loops in the air was my Dad's cool-as-cucumber head as he sat peacefully watching TV, oblivious to all the chaos around him. The situation was undeniably comic and I allowed myself a giggle! Then I saw the look in my Dad's eyes...

My blood ran cold, a shiver ran down my spine, my life flashed before my eyes and all those literary cliches were reality for me in that split second. So the moment of judgement had come, out of the blue and I was just into double figures as far as my age was concerned. What ensued was one of the two times that my Dad actually gave me a beating (The second one I'll save for another day). It wasn't pleasant and the necessary effect has shaped my wayward life from that point in time. Needless to say, the much ridiculed threat was no longer hollow. I daresay my Mom indulged herself in a beaming smile for the manner in which my Dad finally got the message that it was high time. Well, all's well that ends well, I got to see the next day and many days since. But it's unlikely that I'll ever have a closer acquaintance with that emotion called fear!

Creativity-Intentional and otherwise

Looks like some people can really look into the future. A little town in South Gujarat, which does not merit even a express train stop eponymous with the golden boy of Indian cricket!

I think Airtel needs a new slogan. Presenting the "Lo Kar Lo Baat" STD PCO booth!

Now it all makes sense. That's why Kolkata Municipal Corporation (K.M.C) keeps breaking up perfectly good roads at the drop of a hat. Although the statement also sums up my behaviour in office whenever I am forced to do something that I am not interested in, which again is most of the time.

She fell from the sky

How do I that she is indeed a 'she'? Well, for that I depended on my 7 year old nephew who came up with the information that male budgerigars (Or love birds as they are commonly called) have gray or blue beaks. So by virtue of having an orange beak, my pet is a girl or a rather old lady I should say. Don't know what her original name was, but in her new home she was promptly christened Tweety in keeping with the wishes of my cartoon loving family. Having escaped from some cage in some neighbouring house, she had fallen battered and bloodied on my house's roof and if it hadn't been for my domestic help's timely intervention, the crows would have finished the job. But luck was on her side and she landed in what would definitely be the most animal friendly house in the neighbourhood!
Having a long standing specialization in treatment of injured birds, my aunt and my mom set about fixing Tweety up and soon enough she was chirping her heart out much to the dismay of my grumpy, disturbed early in the morning self. Night time requires her cage to be plonked inside the top floor room where I sleep and it takes only the first ray of sunshine to invade the room and she is chirping at her highest pitch and her birdy language "Put me outside! Put me outside!". Muttering in rage, it invariably turns out to be the first task I have to perform in the morning. And in contradiction to popular notions about bird-brains and their lack of cubic capacity, Tweety is a pretty smart chick. The first task that she carries out is to shake her bird-feed dish a little so that some of the seeds spill out. This ensures that she has the company of her sparrow friends who chit-chat and hop around her cage all day long.

People tell me that the quintessential definition of love-birds is that they live in pairs, so I should get her a partner. If I had it my way, I'd have set her free as I detest the idea of a beautiful creature like a bird imprisoned in a tiny cage. But out here in the big bad city, she probably wouldn't make it to the next street with the dark hordes of crows keeping a hungry eye out for her. And to her credit, she seems to have adjusted pretty well to her lonely existence. She only gets to see in the morning when I set off for office and then late at night when I return to put her cage inside the room. As I catch all the late-night football matches, I frequently find her hopping down from her perch for a midnight bite. And then all through the day, she has the company of her sparrow friends who are casually ignorant of my existence on weekends and holidays, even if I stroll by them. Tweety is great company on lonely days with her crazy antics like hanging upside down from the top of her cage, rock climbing around her cage with her beak and claws or doing a rapid back-and-forth dance routine on her perch bar. She is an fully independent function- pretty, cheerful and demands very little attention, but it wouldn't be unfair to say that she commands it. Succinctly put, she is my kind of girl!

Addicted

I am still floating around in a very slight haze, tell-tale signs of the great party I had yesterday evening, ostensibly on the occasion of some of my office colleagues getting themselves confirmed in the organization. Every reaction is taking that single second time lag before the body responds to the mind. Not to say that I didn't enjoy the party, in fact it was harder to say who was happier at their confirmation, if the glee with which my friends and I participated in the celebration was anything to go by. But after a grinding extra long day of work at the office (Very atypical of Fridays), I find myself again at the cramped cyber cafe typing away. Saturday will see the exuberant exercising of long lost cricketing skills in the pleasant winter sun. Had a pleasant feeling about this year and its turning to be quite awesome already. Winning an all India essay contest is like the perfect sop for all the money and time invested in this corner of the Internet, and things never looked cheerier. But the fact remains that even without the unexpected bonus of winning the prize, I would have been here anyway! Weekends come and go, without any repetition save for one. The unforgiving need to write or to curse myself for not making the effort to do so. God, I am addicted but here's addiction that looks all set to really pay off!

Porsche Unleashed

Ever since I played the Need for Speed PC game titled as above, I have been absolutely smitten by the legend that is Porsche. An incorrigible enthusiast for any machine that moves I already am and if you add to that the hype and worship filled words I have read about this car make in particular and you have landed yourself a certified fanatic. Consider this: Its the only sports car company in the world which is able to sustain an independent existence when all other heavyweights including Ferrari are bankrolled by big car conglomerates. While that might not mean much to a person with minimal interest in cars, it is the equivalent of Da Vinci painting only Mona Lisas and doing it regularly and efficiently enough to form a study case for successful business strategy.
Porsches with their distinctive slouching shape, impeccable quality and wild yet challenging nature (thats what the motor jounos always say) inhabit the highest regions of my universe of desires. And to get to whip a Porsche through the steely smooth Autobahn and then test its fabled handling in the twists and turns of the roads through the beautiful Black Forest region would be an experience worth selling my soul for. Stuttgart, Germany is the birthplace of the Porsche legend and stepping afoot that promised land is high on my list of priorities!

Go Gunners!!

Its a great start to the year in many ways but one of the primary reasons for me has to be the fact that Arsenal finished top of the EPL league table at the end of the past year. For the uninitiated, Arsenal is the name of a major English football club. Looking back for reasons why I should be supporting a club with which I couldn't POSSIBLY have any connection, I find a couple of substantial ones.
Number one has to be in a long time ago when I was seeking a path out of the intense torture of being an Indian cricket fan; seeking someone or something which I could relate to and for a change someone who actually won a match or two. Salvation came in the form of the "Invincibles", the awesome Arsenal team with Bergkamp, Pires, Ljungberg etc etc at their flowing best. In many ways, they were like the Indian cricket team spilling over with talent and yet playing abysmally on occasions. But they were on the right half in terms of win to loss percentages. Since then the age of Thierry Henry has come and gone, and now it seems that its time for Fabregas to don the mantle.

Reason number two for supporting them is that there is a zip and elan in their gameplay, unlike their arch rivals Man U who seem like a bunch of thugs out on a street fight. They are getting scrappy of late but I pray that it'll be only a passing phase at least under the eagle eye of coach Wenger. This team is my kind of hero. They fight fair and look good while doing it. Even loss is a gallant story to tell when they do not stoop to the theatrics that Cristiano Ronaldo and his ilk resort to with such disgusting regularity.

It's a New Year.... Again!!

Its the 1st of January again, a great day for me so far and I am tired of pessimistic people reminding me that its just another day. Well, the overpowering cynical part of me does insist that whatever they say is not far off from the truth but for the dreamer side of me it offers a welcome refuge. So 1st January is in all respects similar to 31st December except that I can slumber till late maximising the lack of the need to go to office. Actually speaking I always feel a little sorry for the year gone by 'coz in retrospect it never seems that bad!

The past year was generally kind to me; major achievements being - surviving on the job without any major foul-ups, and then of course working my butt off for this blog of mine that no one seems to care enough to leave a comment on. But its a winter afternoon with warm sunshine and I'd have to be suicidal to feel depressed in this kind of weather. My New Year resolution if it isn't obvious from this post is to be more positive and pleasant even about the s**t in my life. Being sharp, acidic and sadistic has its perverse pleasures, but I'll try and stick to being the good, hopelessly optimistic guy that I am, at least 10% of the time!