On Fire-Crackers and the Automobile Industry

‘So like we have computer controlled fire-crackers la’

The idea of computer-controlled fire-crackers snapped me out of my thoughts.

The man behind the wheel was chirpy as usual, but I was lost in a slurry of deadlines.

‘What do you mean computer-controlled fire-crackers?’

‘Haa, Singapore Government ban fire-crackers-aa. No real fire-crackers in Singaporre. Considered as ammunition.’

In India, I was watching the entire night-sky fill-up with multi-coloured flower pots. The crescendo of uncontrolled burst of fire-crackers during the temple festivals deafening my ears.

‘Even one piece of fire-cracker in your pocket, you get 6 years of jail and 4 strokes’

‘4 strokes?’

‘Yeah, the scars stay on you for life. The skin is pealed off from your body with each whip. Once that wound heals the next stroke is made.’

‘Is one lashed in public?’

‘No. No. Inside the jail. But the scar stays with you forever-ah’

It didn’t look so beautiful anymore, the pictures of Singapore financial district and bay-area night-sky filled with fire-crackers.

‘So I guess the only way you can celebrate Chinese New Year is to go to Malaysia?’

‘No, even in Malaysia fire-crackers ban. You might find in some villages, but still illegal. If caught, you get punished. For that matter even China banned fire-crackers. Few years back one whole factory catch fire and burst- one whole factory – around 200 people die.’

‘I come from India. We still have fire-crackers there. It is a very big industry there.’

‘Oh. It is still not banned there eh?’

………..

‘So are you a Singaporean’

‘Yeah’

‘Since when are you driving this taxi?’

‘Oh taxi part-time. I have a factory in China.’

‘Factory?’

‘Yeah. Taxi my brother-in-law’s. I helping him because he is not well. I’m here for a few months. I did not want to sit at home with my wife and I like driving and talking, so here I’m’

‘What do you do then otherwise?’

‘I run factory in China, go to Sri Lanka and Cambodia’

This conversation was getting interesting by the minute.

‘I take scrap cars from junk-yards here and since they are mostly in excellent condition, sell them for good value in SriLanka or Cambodia. Singapore roads very good, so vehicles usually in good condition.’

What followed was a lecture on how the Government regulated the Automobile Industry. This is the gist,

In Singapore the Government on an year-to-year basis, decide on the number of private cars that can be sold in the market. Each new car comes out with a Certificate of Entitlement (COE), or lets say a kind of lease for the car. Now, since supply does not meet demand, these COEs are auctioned, and obviously the richest of the buyer end up with the cars. Hence, any car buyer, in addition to paying the mark-up price of the car also has to pay a price for the COE.
Two immediate questions arise. The first being, why is the government trying to regulate the free market forces when the Per Capita income of Singapore is one of the highest in the world, and you can see every car manufacturer from the BMWs to the Nissan’s here. The answer is to avoid congestion.

The second question then would be, doesn’t that lead to an excellent second-hand car market and over the years with the lack of increase in land size of Singapore won’t we face the problem of congestion anyway. The answer is not that fast. The rule says that anyone wishing to sell his car also has to sell his COE. This means two things, one he/she has to pay a higher price for the new car as well as the new COE thereby deterring him from buying and two, since the COE prices increase every year, the COE prices of the second hand cars are also not depreciated prices of the COEs. Hence second hand cars are also not that cheap. Also, the government is promoting scraping of cars (yeah sending them to the junk-yard) by providing a rebate for such an act. (Does the government bear the rebate? How does that work? I still need clarity on this). Hence there are lots of people sending cars to the junk-yard. Our man here went to the junk-yards and took all those cars that were in ship-shop-shape and sent them to neighboring countries.

Having reached this far I asked him,

‘So you must be a rich man! Doing all this.’

‘Not really, there are lots of us doing this here. There are lot of us ‘traders’, we call ourselves, around here.’

Oh yeah, I forgot to factor in competition!

Another amazing video

'While my guitar gently weeps' on a ukulele

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=puSkP3uym5k

Amazing Video

Watch some amazing jugglery in this Fat Boy Slim video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aEb3YknGUks

The Masseur

What do you tell a man who looks into your eyes and tells you that you stole his job?

I was waiting for my food parcel and this is what the guy at the counter had to say,

“I got retrenched thrice and I got fed-up of it. Around the late 90s when you guys (raised eye-brows and pointing fingers, no animosity in tone or expression though) in India and China started picking up work from around the world including Singapore I lost mine. You guys outpriced us out of competition. Your employer, HAL, was the last one to give me the pink-slip. I tried my luck in the job market for about a year after that, but there was no demand for a middle manager. I gave up after one year. Now I help around here in this restaurant in addition to offering my services as a Thai masseur for private clients. I had around 20 years of experience before they kicked me out.”

It is definitely a very different experience when you come face to face with the fall-out of the process that flattened the world.

He plans to come down to Kerala and learn the technique of Ayurvedic massage to cater to the ever increasing market for massage therapy in Singapore.

"A Brave New World", First impressions of Singapore

Everyday, as I get into my Hotel elevator, I see representatives from at least three different nations in that space. The tall, white, stout, bald foreigner in his late 50s wishes me 'Good Morning', the student wearing three quarter cargos, motley t-shirt, colour framed glasses and the spiky hair can be Malaysian, Singaporean or Chinese, and the middle aged couple who keep pecking each others cheeks looks like a mix of Asian and European origin. This diversity is one of the most striking things about Singapore.

The lady who attends to Room Service is Malay and knows all the four official languages of Singapore (she even tried to speak in Malayalam, but gave up). In the MRT (Metro Rail) I met a SriLankan who was educated in Trichy, is now settled in Singapore, but who someday wishes to go back, not to SriLanka, but to India, and settle in Bangalore. He tells me India, especially Bangalore, is doing great.

The Taxi drivers I meet almost always men in their 60s, mostly Singaporean of the 2nd generation of Chinese or Indian settlers. They are a very cheerful and talkative lot - a far cry from the Autowallahs of Bangalore or Chennai. The difference it makes when you are greeted with a - "Good Morning Sir", rather than a bargain on price and on reaching the destination given a print out of the bill, of course paid through card, and told - "Thank You and Have a Nice Day", is unparalleled. It is not to be mistaken as part of a high-flier life-style as a Taxi is a common means of transport in this city. Some of the men work from 6:00 am - 11:00 pm even after retirement age. They also know quite a lot about the world. One Taxi driver, on telling him that I was from India, enquired which part of India I was from and on being told South India, asked whether that place was hot. He had heard of a certain Chennai which was very hot throughout the year! Then there was the 2nd generation Malayalee, whose father settled here after the World War, and looked after his two families, one in India and the other in Singapore - well he said that in a matter of fact manner and on sensing my wonder at his description, told me that that was the way things were at that time. He then showed me a piece of news on those days Strait Times that talked about Kerala Govt's ban on public spitting and blowing mucus in public places. It doesn't take much to brighten my day.

One of my project mates is Chinese, from Beijing and is employed with - Infosys! On questioning he starts to talk about Infosys' operations in Beijing and tells me how a contract won by Infosys India is now being done in Beijing. I was even told Infy was a good option for fresh graduates as it was easy to get into and they were recruiting in large numbers! At work, I'm replacing an Indian, report to a Chinese, work with a Singaporean and an Australian, am part of an African's team and sit in the seat of my Alumnus from Lucknow, India. Not truly Global I know - the South Americans, Canadians and the Icelanders are missing. But am sure they are somewhere in the crowd!

People are in general very courteous, work hard, lead a balanced life - are in office by 9 and leave office by 5, and are not xenophobic. They are at ease with foreigners and are more than willing to help out; and are damn stylish! Women know a thing or two about style and fashion here, and men try hard to catch up. The range of fashionable clothes that women can wear without revealing or being obscene is amazing; and it is impossible to guess a woman's age. It is probably in their genes to remain slim and petit.

It is a truly fascinating city, Singapore. If I were to take any aspect of life and I mean any - from the attitude of people to cycle-rickshaws, or from food in McDonalds to the Central Fire Station - it will be different and more importantly different in a very positive way in most cases.

One of the reasons why The Taj Mahal is so beautiful is because it has a clear blue sky as a background, uncluttered by distractions of buildings and trees. Strangely, this was the thought that crossed my mind when in the light of dawn I first saw the sky-scrapers of downtown Singapore. There they were jutting out into the sky in sheer defiance, like the imperial guards of some Chinese emperor, defying everything that I had seen and experienced till then.

Singapore is a model city - the roads are wide, clearly named and are lined with trees and flowering plants. Sprinkle a good helping of stylish cars and well-dressed people from around the world and there you have your postcard. Above all the city is as clean as a freshly starched pajama. Like a friend describes it, you can see the treads on the wheels of the cars, and you don't have to polish your shoes everyday. Roadside constructions are blinded from the public, like I have seen when the Delhi metro was being constructed. The whole city runs as if it were an automated machine, I have seen a policeman only once in my last 2 weeks in this city.

Shopping is the favourite pastime of Singaporeans, and they jokingly call it the national sport of the country. There are underground malls connecting different parts of the city. You are busy taking in the Starbucks, the Carrefours and the Kopi tiams, and before you know you have covered 3 to 4 traffic junctions.

According to a B-School friend, the Government of Singapore has taken care of the fundamental needs of its citizens, the ones that Maslow talks about. What he meant to say was that the basic 'Roti, Kapda, Makaan, and Sex' needs of every individual in this city have been taken care. The Government provides housing - 90% owned by the individual, social security and health care needs of the populace; and the city has its legal blind spots. Rules and Regulations are plenty, and fines are very hefty - $500 for eating food and $1000 for smoking in trains. It is very clear that the authorities have no intention of spoiling the child by sparing the rod.

Still Singapore is not without its murmurs of discontent amongst its labour class - I have not yet had a chance to talk to the thriving upper class. Like one Taxi driver told me, till a few years back things were great, but now, though the govt does provide for our basic needs, there is no fun. He was for one referring to the many rules and regulations, and for another saying that given the small size of the country, to get away from the city one had to fly to another country. Cost of living also becomes high once you start going after the luxuries. $10 starting for a movie is probably the cheapest form of entertainment. Concerts run into $50 or more and cigarette packs cost $11 and come with gory pictures of patients afflicted with cancer.

I chanced upon a movie trailer that made fun of many of the quirky ways and some of the issues of Singapore (like bureaucracy!!); and it got a loud reception in the theatre. It probably is the biggest advantage of the visual medium that it can sneer the masses on their face, portray them as outright idiots and still get their acceptance and appreciation. Borat is making waves all around the globe and the Black Adder series that I'm currently into rips apart anything British (and French!) over the ages.

It might look a bit childish, but the list of cars that I have seen in Singapore reads something like this - Ferrari, Porsche, BMW, Renault, Jaguar, Mercedes, Alfa Romeo, Lotus, Kia, Nissan, Audi, Saab,Volkswagen, Mazda, Lexus, Volvo, Toyota (like we have the Maruti in India the Toyota is everywhere), Proton, Suzuki Swift, Hyundai and Honda (I have not seen a Lamborgini yet!). Well that is Singapore for starters.

And as far as bikes go Dirt Racers and broad wheeled Hondas rule the roost. I'm told there is a Harley Davidson parade that happens ever Monday - seems the club members just ride around the city showing off their priced possessions.

One is witness to innovation in every part of life and the meaning of the phrase 'by any stretch of imagination' is redefined everyday - there are street side e-kiosks for paying all your monthly bills in single shot (from electricity and water to the credit card charges), there are congestion taxes to dissuade vehicles from taking heavy traffic routes during peak traffic hours and the concept of "On-demand TV" lets you choose, pay and see movies of your choice using just your remote and TV.

It is hard not to wonder why things are so different from back home; but I miss home for sure.

Motorcycle Diaries

We were like the travelling Saints - Param, Sri Kanta and Me.

We would move from shrine to shrine, singing bhajans for 10 mins wherever we stopped, mesmerising the gentlefolk of the sleepy town of Kaivara and bringing some smiles on our faces. Actually, spirituality was lost on me - I was just a chronicler, I took snaps, recorded videos on my mobile and reflected on the moment and the experience that I wished to chronicle somewhere. Param and Sri Kanta did all the chanting.

It was the night before that Param rang me up and asked me whether I wanted to join him on a bike trip. He had some work in this place called Kaivara, some 50 kms outside Banglore. I was just back from my Diwali break to Goa. The temptation to answer a blind call, the impulse, is exciting - reminds me of days back in college when we would on the spur of the moment decide to go for a movie on the eve of an exam. I'm glad some of that madness is still left in me.

We ate our home cooked food. We were spread-out on the grass near the road eating rice, dal and beans. We had clocked some 2 hours on the bike. We had almost 20 kms more before we reached our destination. The dog sat patiently behind us. Every now and then it would just get up and nudge a bit closer checking out where we were with our lunch. Its turn would come. I had tried shooing it away. It just jumped back a few steps confused why I was doing what I was doing - couldn't I see it was hungry and following us around for food was a natural thing to do. I gave up, I did not have whatever it took to pelt it with stones and drive it away.

Wind on your face at 70 kph, a machine that responds to your slightest whims between your legs, smooth grey roads scampering into a horizon of overcast sky, rocky hills and green flora that has taken its true colours from the slight drizzle that is falling around, and the thought of seizing the moment. Life!

There was this place in the mountain where they were cutting shrines in the hill. There was this hall in the womb of the mountain which shouted back at us when we called out to it. Param and Sri Kanta ran towards the podium shouting the Lord's name. I looked around taking in the moment, we were actually INSIDE the mountain! Forgetting for a moment our angst and our cowardice to solve it, we ran into the warm and protective cavern of nature.

We will emerge one day, stronger, resolute, free and ready to be scarred again!

Lines that Stuck

The terror of society, which is the basis of morals, the terror of God, which is the secret of religion - these are the two things that govern us

- Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray


The aim of life is self-development. To realise one's nature perfectly - that is what each of us is here for. People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. They have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owe's to oneself

- Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray


Show some respect to your time on this Earth - Paulo Coelho, Zahir

Life is Serious Business - Param (Friend)

Give Life a Chance - Akshay (Friend)

Word Play

Happy Onam.

Happyo Nam. (are we happy?)

An interesting message I received today.

By the way I have not quit blogging. Just took an extended break. Hope to be back to active blogging soon.

Recent movies I saw,

1. Lage Raho Munna Bhai - Very Enjoyable. Arshad Warsi as Circuit steals the thunder. The idea of Gandhi-giri is also good.
2. The Tenant (Roman Polanski) - Waste of Time. Have watched Chinatown, Rosemary's Baby and now this. What is all the hype about I fail to understand.
3. Vettayadu Vilayadu - Very slick and enjoyable. Production quality is great, but an overdose of violence. Watchout the lead dancer in the last song.
4. Achan Urangatha Veedu - Highly reccomended for performances and treatment of a new subject in Malayalam cinema (one of the many sex scandals that have rocked the state).

Ogden Nash

This Is Going To Hurt Just A Little Bit

One thing I like less than most things is sitting in a dentist chair with my mouth wide open.

And that I will never have to do it again is a hope that I am against hope hopen.

Because some tortures are physical and some are mental,
But the one that is both is dental.
It is hard to be self-possessed
With your jaw digging into your chest.

So hard to retain your calm
When your fingernails are making serious alterations in your life line or love line or some other important line in your palm;

So hard to give your usual effect of cheery benignity
When you know your position is one of the two or three in life most lacking in dignity.

And your mouth is like a section of road that is being worked on.
And it is all cluttered up with stone crushers and concrete mixers and drills and steam rollers and there isn’t a nerve in your head thatyou aren’t being irked on.

Oh, some people are unfortunate enough to be strung up by thumbs.
And others have things done to their gums,
And your teeth are supposed to be being polished,
But you have reason to believe they are being demolished.

And the circumstance that adds most to your terror
Is that it’s all done with a mirror,
Because the dentist may be a bear, or as the Romans used to say, only they were referring to a feminine bear when they said it, an ursa,
But all the same how can you be sure when he takes his crowbar in one hand and mirror in the other he won’t get mixed up, the way you do when you try to tie a bow tie with the aid of a mirror, and forget that left is right and vice versa?

And then at last he says That will be all; but it isn’t because he then coats your mouth from cellar to roof
With something that I suspect is generally used to put a shine on a horse’s hoof.

And you totter to your feet and think. Well it’s all over now and afterall it was only this once.
And he says come back in three monce.

And this, O Fate, is I think the most vicious circle that thou ever sentest,
That Man has to go continually to the dentist to keep his teeth in good condition
when the chief reason he wants his teeth in good condition
is so that he won’t have to go to the dentist.

PS: Not sure about the line-breaks as this was picked from an unofficial site - is probably still under copyright. Please feel free to point out a 'proper' version if you know one.

Whose line is it anyway?

Interesting link about the 100 Best 1st lines from novels!

(link from Jabberwock's blog)

Ennui

The pages of the book had turned yellow with time.

I turned a leaf against the wind blowing through the window, careful not to disengage it from the bind.

Heat rays of the late morning sun lashed at me from all sides. Its blinding light enfeebled the already weak contrast of the print.

The skin on my cheek stretched and pricked itself awake as I closed my half open mouth - dry tongue on parched lips! Itch, scratch and micro flakes of dead skin on the forearm - a lone hair on the sleeve dispensed off into the wind.

Frantic winds howled in through the window in an attempt to run away from the smoke and dust, pushing through my hair and deafening my ears, that when my friend asked me what I was reading, I prayed he’d have partaken in the charade.

Camus' characters too were plodding along in his Algerian desert. A tale of shriveled dreams and enervated lives - not so impressive!

Then, the microphone of our Taxi crackled to life, blurting out incomprehensible phrases in a background of static. Cracker-candy pop in my head - as if a mosquito had made its way to my brain through my ear, and suddenly realizing it was lost had started pricking all around.

The driver spoke something into the handheld and the next instant the machine went dead, on command and respectful of its master’s voice.

I tried to find the spot in the book where I had left off.

As I grabbed the Arab in mid-sentence, the machine crackled back to life. The static once again contaminated the air, like a burst of itchy pollen. The prick went about its work all over again in my head - live, contained, its unique presence quite unlike the everyday pervasive head split. I would reach in and rip it out.

I grimaced and banged shut my book.

The shrill of a female voice floated over the noise of my thoughts - a rather animated critique of the guy on the wheels followed. Soon other drivers chipped in – little soprano, more tenor. A rally, and then, the microphone went dead again. I wished he had been a bit more assertive – “SHUT UP YOU FILTHY ANIMAL!!” or something like that.

I frowned and complained to my friend, he blamed his manager, and the machine came back to life, yet again.

Both of us jumped on the lad at the wheels as the cab raced through the clear and endless stretch of my ennui.

ഞാ൯ കഥ എഴുതുകയാണ്....

(Translation: I'm writing a story....)

In case the above letters appear in Pali change your Browser setting
View -> Encoding to 'Unicode UTF-8'

Finally some headway in 'Unicode' !

Some helpful links,

1. For Malayalam fonts
2. Installation instructions
3. Change Browser settings
4. Character picker

I copy-paste from the 'Character Picker'.

Keen to know more efficient ways of doing this!

Sideways

Miles Raymond: Well, the world doesn't give a shit what I have to say. I'm not necessary. I'm so insignificant I can't even kill myself.
Jack: Miles, what the hell is that supposed to mean?
Miles Raymond: Come on, man. You know. Hemingway, Sexton, Plath, Woolf. You can't kill yourself before you're even published.
Jack: What about the guy who wrote Confederacy of Dunces? He killed himself before he was published. Look how famous he is.
Miles Raymond: Thanks.
Jack: Just don't give up, alright? You're gonna make it.
Miles Raymond: Half my life is over and I have nothing to show for it. Nothing. I'am thumbprint on the window of a skyscraper. I'm a smudge of excrement on a tissue surging out to sea with a million tons of raw sewage.
Jack: See? Right there. Just what you just said. That is beautiful. 'A smudge of excrement... surging out to sea.'
Miles Raymond: Yeah.
Jack: I could never write that.
Miles Raymond: Neither could I, actually. I think it's Bukowsky.

I was LOL and rolling in my bed at 2:00 in the night when this sequence played out.

Paul Giamatti, I wonder if the role is slightly autobiographical - such talent! Even the support cast does a fantastic job. Watch it!

The Man, The Machine,

It was New Year's eve and I was at the Dentist's to sort out some of my teething troubles.

I was in the waiting room expecting to be called anytime then. A lady and a small girl sat on my right, the bigger woman murmuring something to the other, and a guy and girl probably in their late teens sat to my left. The girl was talking to the guy who was toying with his mobile. The place was rather empty inspite of it being a saturday.

This was not my first time there and I looked at the now familiar walls, walls covered with colourful charts describing preventive measures for tooth decay, cavities and other such ailments. There was one particular information board that always caught my fancy. This one displayed a new technique developed by my Dr. for artificial tooth implantation. The technique, to put it simply, was to 'screw' in place the artificial tooth where the old or broken one previously stood. The information board carried end-to-end illustrations of the transformation - toothless gums, gums with the screw in place sans the tooth - boy, that was gory, the final effect after implantation and even the cross section of a jaw showing that strange apparition of 'screw-tooth' - the last one being a model ofcourse.

Pictures of doctors turning screws into the cartilage (or so, I think, is what they call the bony part of the jaw where the screw is locked) flashed through my mind, the images quickly changed to those of humans subjected to experiments during the development of the technique and finally to thousands of blue collar workers going for work feeling the steel under their gums everytime they felt around their mouth - the utility of the experiment outweighed all these I reasoned. My imagination was perhaps emaciated due to lack of knowledge on the subject.

Every now and then the door to the clinic's operating room opened giving me a glimpse of reclining patients and the equipments around them. Inside the drill was on, in more ways than one, and the low sound reminded me of times when in school our teacher wrote with new chalk on black-board creating that creaky sound that ever so often made me bite my teeth hard and grimace with repulsion. A kid suddenly screamed from somewhere inside. I thought of a poem that we studied in school by Ogden Nash about a trip to the Dentist's.

The TV at the center of the room was switched on, serving as a distraction from all that described so far, and was set to a prominent Malayam Channel. The channel was doing a 30 min recap of all it's episodes in the year 2005 - a Mega Serial, one of those emotional drivels that run at primetime, Mon to Fri, year after year. They were probably trying to show users the evident connection between the story at the beginning and end of the year.

Then, something happened.

Prof. P.C.Thomas walked in.

There is a saying in malayalam that goes 'idi vettiyavante kaalil paambu kadichu ennapole' (like someone bitten by a snake soon after he is struck by lightning). Now I don't intend to potray myself in such a light and capture the pity of the knowledgeble reader - he who knows about Prof. P.C. Thomas. For the unitiated, let me introduce you to the Teacher, Preacher and shrewd Businessman that is Prof. P.C. Thomas.

Prof. P.C. Thomas single-handedly runs and has been running for years the largest coaching center for the Engineering & Medical entrance exams in Kerala. Spanning 2-3 decades (Once he told us that one of his first students had approached him with a request to enrol his son under his able tutelage), the Prof's institute continues to churn out the largest number of Engineering and Doctorial candidates - all the top ranks in the state come under his name, always. A strict disciplinarian - a terror actually; stories abound of him abusing, both mentally and physically, pampering parents and their truant children - Thomas 'mashu', expanded his organization from a single room outfit to an enterprise with branches in Dubai and other Middle East countries. PC (that's what his students call him out of fear and respect) also now expanded his classes to cover IIT-JEE & Civil Services Exams with commendable success (the Prof. eventually told me that 2 of his students cleared the Civil exams that year). One can see the employment generation due to his work in my home-town by just looking at the no of PG apartments that have sprouted in and around his coaching center (I noticed around 5-6 notices right outside his gate - from Eve's Garde to Angel Valley). I always consider myself fortunate to have been tutored by him and the rest of the illustrious teachers at his Tution center.

Coming back to where I left off Thomas mashu walked in and briskly made for the Doctor's room. The years had hardly affected his appearance.

I jumped from my seat, more out of respect this time, and called out - "Sir". He turned, saw me, stopped in his tracks and smiled. He put his hand over my shoulder and enquired 'How are you faring?'. I replied 'Good'. Brief inquiries were made about career and well being. Soon he started to move on. I bid adieu.

He seemed to be in a hurry.

As I turned away, the lady sitting next to me slowly stood up and said - 'Mashukku enne manassilayo?' (Sir, did you recognise me?). PC gave a questioning look, but when prompted by the woman recollected her identity and started exchanging pleasantries.

The Lady soon bid farewell and took her seat.

As PC turned to open the door leading to the Dentist's, the guy on my left stood up and blurted, "Eh..Sir".

Recommended reading

Recommend Dilip D'Souza's blog. Writes, without pretence, about social issues.

http://dcubed.blogspot.com/

The following article was written by him explaining his real life act of child adoption - very interesting.

http://dcubed.blogspot.com/2004/11/why-shes-here.html

This following link gives a glimpse into his Mid-day columns

http://web.mid-day.com/columns/dilip_dsouza/2006/january/127462.htm

Season's Greetings

Have a Great time this New Year's!!

Time well spent: Books in 2005

After 2 years in a B-School, during which I managed to read just 5 books ('The Goal', 'Cuckold', 'Ravan & Eddie', 'The Rainmaker' & 'The Firm'. This excludes the many management novels that I left mid-way - Akio Morita's 'Made in Japan', Iacocca's 'IACOCCA' & Sculley's 'From Pepsi to Apple'), there was a conscious effort to spend more time with a book this year.

Starting April, these are the books that I read in 2005.

1. Chain Reaction by Eliyahu Goldratt
- First book on the job. Sequel to the much acclaimed 'Goal' by Eliyahu Goldratt, 'Chain Reaction' tries to apply the concepts of 'Goal' in Project Management. I was facinated by 'Goal', but 'Chain Reaction' goes one step further in terms of applicable take-aways. A really Good read.

2-4. The Murakami Novels

a) Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the world,

b) Dance Dance Dance

c) The Wild sheep chase

- Kraz and George raved about Murakami, but I was sceptical - from the Name, to Front cover to Story summary everything looked weird. Decided to check it out anyway.

Started with 'Hard-boiled Wonderland' and the style gripped me instantly. His is the kind of writing you can depend on when you want to re-invigorate your reading habits. 'Dance, Dance, Dance' proved he had a consistent style, though, he was probably not at his best in 'The Wild sheep chase'.

Have already bought his 'Norwegian Wood', 'Kafka on the shore' & 'Wind-up bird chronicle'.

If you thought the names didn't make sense, wait till you read one of his works. It hard to explain the plot and I don't want to try.

5. The Bhuj Story - After the quake by Rishi Sanwal
- Nice to see a friend publish.

6. 3 Men in a boat(Nothing to say about the dog) by Jerome K. Jerome
- Witty, humorous and tiresome in parts. Good but not a classic. He has a largely funny and consistent screwball style that may at times make it a bit laborious.

7. 3 Men on the Bummel by Jerome K. Jerome
- Continues where 3 Men in a Boat left off. Better than the previous one. This one is not so much about the cycle ('bummel') and their journey as his first work was about sailing. Though, his style remains consistent.

8. Seven sixes are forty three by Kiran Nagarkar
- Highly non-linear narrative. A coming of age, autobiographical work. Better than 'Ravan & Eddie' but does not have the Magnum Opus feel of 'Cuckold'. Though, we get more than a glimpse of the talent for intricate character studies that is so glaring in Cuckold. To be read again sometime.

9. 1984 by George Orwell
- A classic that triggerd my interest in Orwell. The explanations on why Anarchy and Class distinction are here to stay is outstanding.

10. Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell
- Like they say, 'A classic account of what it is like to be Down and Out'. An account of Orwell's tryst with poverty. Convinced me to explore lesser known works by popular authors.

11. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl
- Short and 'sweet' read. Have to see the movie to find out why they cast Johny Depp as the free spirited Willy Wonka.

12. Freakonomics by Steven Levitt
- Not as great as they have made it to be. You don't have to do a Ph.D and conduct research for understanding many of the day-to-day phenomenon described here. You can ask your Dad for a change!!

13. The Outsider by Albert Camus
- Classic. Nietzsche said,"God is dead" - Outsider will help one understand what he meant. On the lines of Fountainhead in terms of style - conveys a philosophy through stark characterisation. But unlike Fountainhead Camus does the job in around 100 pages.

14. Fear and Loathing in LA by Hunter S. Thompson
- One helluva Joy ride - 'Road Trippin', literally. The damning 'high' of a drop of live human adrenalin.

15. The Talkative Man by R.K. Narayanan
- Average. Fails to inspire one to read more of RKN's - something that 'Swami and Friends' achieved quite easily.

16. The curious incident of the dog in the night time by Mark Haddon
- Amazing work.

17. The Big sleep by Raymond Chandler
- Awakens a genre.

18. Intimacy - Hanif Khureishi
- Fascinating account of one man's arguments and counter arguments for leaving his wife and children. Spiced up with recollections of a troubled life and some interesting couch philosophy.

19. Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown
- Some interesting theories, but an average plot. I will be surprised if the movie survives the opening rush and interest.

20. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
- Last book I read in 2005 (to date). Failed to understand why this is a master-piece in American Literature. Interesting in parts and long-winded most of the time. Summarises a man's struggle to reclaim lost-love; a story of imperfect characters and the rather realistic decisions they make in life.

Should try more Non-fiction, some of the long pending classics (e.g. Catch-22, Catcher in the Rye, Walden) and inspect some of the younger writers (e.g. Zadie Smith) in 2006. 2005, seems to have produced some interesting books in both Fiction & Non-fiction. Should check them out too.

Recollection by Kraz, Nakul ,Vinod , DSine, Sluggard , Ubergeek , Mridul , Param & Moon Jungle should make a very good compilation.

Times We Live In

Male Voice: " Good Morning Bangalore! The time is 9:56 a.m. and this is Christopher on Radio City.

(Sound of Girls wooing)

Male Voice: "Thank you Girls. Now, it's a sunny morning, great weather and we have just the right mix of programs for you on Radio City.

Bangalore, if you are stuck in traffic call us and tell us where you are. While you are with us, you can grab some fabulous prizes by taking part in the following poll.

Tell us what the most common form of public waste in Bangalore is.

Is it

A. Household Sewage

B. Litter

C. Vehicle Pollutants or,

D. Industrial waste

Call us and tell us what you think and win LOTS of Exciting prizes"

(Breaks into Ads)

The Common Man

MG Road, Bangalore - yet another weekday

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned"

There was the cream Maruti-Omni, the fat lady in her late fourties inside, and the cop running from one door to the other to either get-in or pull the lady out. The lady was agitated and the cop, confused, but furious neverthless.

Then it happened. One of those gems that one loves talking over and over with friends.

The lady slammed the door wide open, the cop took a step back in surprise, the lady hurtled herself forward. Arms flailing, face contorted as of a woman possessed, tounge lashing like a whip taming a wild beast, she confronted the man. After shouting something at the cop, she swore not to follow his command; two-hoots, that what she claimed she cared for the dictum of his ilk. She got back into the vehicle.

As the play had already begun by the time I stepped out of Higgin Bothams I was unaware of what caused all the furore. Carpedium!!

The fellow, regained his bearings all of a sudden and, started running again from one door to the other, this time more confident and sure of his actions. He barked,

"I public servant. You call me...IDIOT!!.. get out woman.

I public servant. IDIOT eh...I show respect because you lady...GET OUT!!!

You call me IDIOT!!...I Public Servant"

The fellow was trembling with rage by now and his face had definitely taken a darker shade. To the woman's credit though, she was still persistent with her barrage. But I thought, the bit that went "I public servant" helped the policeman score a moral point over the lady; I for one thought it made the woman a bit doubtful. But, she was too deep in it to back-off now and tried to hold fort very stoically.

All of a sudden, one puny little man wearing a T-shirt and cap appeared out of nowhere. He had an impish smile on his face. He watched the proceedings for a few seconds and, unnoticed by anyone (I saw this becasue he made the move right in front of me), took his huge video camera and set about covering the circus. He ran with it to the driver's side of the Maruti, stood with the cop in profile and the woman staring straight at the lens.

A large crowd had gathered around the van by now and some 'elderly citizens' were pressing forward towards the policeman. Then, one man, quite bald on top and wearing a thick black spectacle spoke, in a rather conscientious manner,

"Madam, it was your fault. You shouldn't have..."

I decided to take a walk.

Focus...Stiffen...Click...another one for the album.

Reader's Bloc

Vikram Seth released his latest book and I decided to check him out through 'An Equal Music'. After a point I gave-up on the same - the reading got a bit too laborious and I was in no mood for reading about someone in a mid-life crisis. My friends, though, tell me that if one is willing to plough through the same one is rewarded with gems of musical prose and prose on music. Another day, another place (2-3 years on a 1000 page book - just that and nothing else!! Baffles me, the sense of purpose of a writer of fiction. I guess that is a mould one is born into).

I decided it was time to try something light. I decided to read my 2nd Agatha Christie novel. I had read 'And then there were none' (or 10 little niggers) years back and was rather impressed by it then. On a friend's reccomendation, I decided to try 'The Hollow'. I did not get past the 5th chapter.

One thing that I notice, and have thereafter confirmed as a recurring phenomenon in Agatha Christie novels, is the character study that the author ventures into at the start of her novels. For a novel in the 'who-dunnit' genre, character study of about 5-6 characters for about 60-70 pages right at the beginnig of the novel can be rather frustrating.

I moved into the children's section; picked up my first Roald Dahl novel, 'Charlie and the chocolate factory', and thankfully, finished it. Very light and hilarious read and definitely of the children's section. Though, I felt the book ended rather abruptly and a bit too soon. Guess 'Charlie and the Great glass elevator' takes-off from where this left.

Tried reading comedy of Spike Milligan. Did some cursory reading. Found it 'OK' - nothing to spend too much time on though. It's time I tried something concrete in the non-fiction genre - Guns, Germs and Steel,maybe.