tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78910702024-03-13T16:05:02.411+05:30SANDGROPER<i>"We are all born ignorant. But one must work hard to remain stupid" </i> Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.comBlogger492125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-83185985775664830012020-05-14T07:24:00.001+05:302020-05-14T07:24:53.926+05:3071 Degrees <div><br></div><div>Dear Diary,</div><div><br></div><div> </div><div><br></div><div>71 degrees on Saturday.</div><div>Mostly clear skies.</div><div>That's what the app said.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Could be a day to head to the park.</div><div>Maybe even a picnic?</div><div>Make some sandwiches. Pack the chairs and frisbees.</div><div>Get the cooler out of the closet, pick beer from the store.</div><div><br></div><div> </div><div><br></div><div>Or maybe take the Duck Creek trail?</div><div>A bike ride by the river with the kids.</div><div>9.7 miles one way.</div><div>And lunch at the grill place</div><div>or the Ethiopian joint by the river's edge</div><div><br></div><div> </div><div><br></div><div>Pack lots of sunscreen</div><div>And the bug-spray</div><div>Maybe a jacket? Rain possible at 5, the app said</div><div>Whatever.</div><div>We'll just wing it.</div><div><br></div><div> </div><div><br></div><div>Or how about a barbeque?</div><div>Call everyone over. Like a potluck.</div><div>BYOB though.</div><div>Let the kids play in the backyard</div><div>Start early. End late.</div><div><br></div><div> </div><div><br></div><div>71 degrees on Saturday.</div><div>Mostly clear skies.</div><div>Watched “The Lego Movie” in bed</div><div>Did laundry</div><div>Hand washed the masks.</div>Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-23041104354727708152020-05-08T01:32:00.002+05:302020-05-08T01:48:07.879+05:30Message in a bottle <div><div>7th May 2020</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Hey there my younger me.. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here we are. 2020. You're probably just putting down that Abdul Kalam book as you pick this up. The book was nice. Somewhat fanciful, but knowing what I know now, it had it's heart in the right place. We'll give it that. So did life turn out like what Abdul Kalam thought it would? Simply put, No. If anything, 2020 India feels more like Indira Gandhi's India than Vajpayee's India. </div><div><br /></div><div>But we're not here to talk about India, rather to talk about you. </div><div><br /></div><div>Yes. Let's talk about you, and how everything turned out. I won't tell you about the exact events in your life (where's the fun in that??), but more about what you take out of it. </div><div><br /></div><div>On the whole, life will be pretty good. Believe it or not, your angry temper will not be what people know you most for. Barring the odd eruption, your tongue won't get the better of you. You'll even get a handwritten compliment which says "Mr. Calm". Imagine that!! And that won't be the weirdest of things.. For all your struggles in your engineering college, you will be best known in publicly for an academic achievement. You will learn to trust yourself that things will eventually work out, and that will be half the reason for your angst to calm. </div><div><br /></div><div>And that's because the other half (or should we say the better half??) will be the girl. </div><div><br /></div><div>Which girl, you ask? Why that same one!! The one that you eagerly wait for every evening as you take your dog out for his nightly round, and hope to time it exactly with the her filling up drinking water from the society water-tank. The one that you do not dare to ask if this is anything more than just friendship, for the risk of losing those precious 45 minutes of your day. Your life will have a purpose and there will be meaning to everything you do. Almost all that turns out good in your life, will stem from her. All because even today you want to be a better man, just for her. </div><div><br /></div><div>And then there's the kids.. The two most adorable Darwinian success stories one can imagine. They will be your biggest satisfaction and your biggest dread, all rolled in one. Everything else you do and achieve, will pale in comparison to the feeling you will get when you tuck them in for the night, as they are secure in the feeling that you are there for them through the night. </div><div><br /></div><div>As with every high, there will be lows too. You will come face to face with irreparable loss, and have to figure out a way to deal with it. Loss that everyone has to face, but there's no troubleshooting guide on how you can get out of it. You'll muddle your way through it, but as you deal with your own loss, you will lose sight of the troubles that others in your life are facing. Unfortunately you will not be there for them when they need you the most. And worst of all, it will be too late by the time you come to your senses. </div><div><br /></div><div>Career wise, it'll be an interesting journey. You won't be too low down the food chain, but you won't be as high as you would like to be either. Like Abdul Kalam, you will be known for an "achievement" which basically involved being at the right place at the right time, and everything you do thereafter will be an afterthought. You will see up close the mendacity of phrases like talent and ability, but you also won't fight hard enough for what you want, for fear that you will end up as something you don't want to be. Or at least that will be your excuse. That, and the realization that there were more people who would rather be in your shoes than the other way around. </div><div><br /></div><div>Your dreams won't come true, but what does come true will be beyond your wildest dreams. Like you won't be the writer you want to be today. But you will take some writing classes which will force you to reflect on how lucky you have been. </div><div><br /></div><div>Life, in short, will be net positive. </div><div><br /></div><div>Your older you.. </div></div>Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-18033951008175173252020-05-05T06:02:00.001+05:302020-05-05T07:05:22.074+05:30The Agent... <div>"Yes?" <br></div><div><br></div><div>It was a man, in his 50's, carrying a newspaper. </div><div><br></div><div>'That's unexpected', I thought to myself. I was hoping to see a watchman open the gate to such a palace. Or maybe a secretary to the old star. Not an uncle in his pajamas with the Times in his hand. </div><div><br></div><div>I took the piece of paper out of my pocket again.. It did say Bungalow 23. </div><div><br></div><div>"Uh- sir.. Yasmeen ma'am??", I stammered. </div><div><br></div><div>"Kya kaam hai?", he barked. The gate was still open enough just to fit the width of his body. His gaze out of the top of his glasses looked like he was already accusing me of a crime that I just had to admit to. </div><div><br></div><div>"S-s-sir.. Yasmeen ma'am se kaam tha".. I mustered some courage. </div><div><br></div><div>"Yasmeen nahin hai ghar pe", his gaze still on me, "baad mein aana" </div><div><br></div><div>That wasn't the plan. Yasmeen herself had asked me to come. "Lekin sir.. Yasmeen ma'am ne bola thha 3 baje aane ko.. Insurance policy pe sign lena tha", I tried my luck again. Not a good day to have not charged my phone. </div><div><br></div><div>"Bahar gayi hai. Baad mein aana" </div><div><br></div><div>"Ma'am kab tak aayengi?" </div><div><br></div><div>"Maloom nahi.. Kal aana" as he shut the gate on me.. </div><div><br></div><div>3 o'clock on a May afternoon in Mumbai is torture, even if it is on the Worli Sea-face. "S-sir.. thoda paani mil sakta hai?"</div><div><br></div><div> His gaze mellowed a little. "Idhar ruko" </div><div><br></div><div>He turned toward the house.. I nudged myself through the gate and stood there. </div><div><br></div><div>The house definitely had seen better days. It felt like it must have been used for shooting scenes of old Asha Parekh movies where her rich father in his silk robe and pipe would stomp down the stairs demanding the poor hero just take the blank cheque and get out of his daughter's life forever. Maybe Yasmeen Alam herself acted in some of them too. Her producer dad had made all his money with pretty much the same formula for 20 years. It must have been one spectacular house even on a summer afternoon many years ago.</div><div><br></div><div>But that was then.. And what was in front of me, was something else. It reminded me of my mother's line that you can tell the love in the family just by looking at the house. Now it looked worn and unloved, just like the uncle who had gone in to get me a glass of water. The gate was rusting, and the house was probably not painted since they shot all those Asha Parekh movies there.. The lawn had turned brown and was quite obvious it hadn't been cut for months. There was even a large hole dug in one corner by the fence. </div><div><br></div><div>"Must be their garbage disposal", I chuckled to myself. </div><div><br></div><div>"Yeh lo paani", came the voice, breaking my chain of thought.. Somewhat embarassed at being caught smiling to myself, I guzzled down the water in one gulp. You'd have thought that someone living on the Worli Sea-face would have a fridge in their bungalow. </div><div><br></div><div>I could see the old man a lot clearer now. He wasn't that old.. Must have been quite handsome himself all those years ago.. He must have been related to Yasmeen herself. Similar face cut, but haggard. Beads of sweat dripping down his face, like he was reading the newspaper with no fan or air-conditioning. His nails had a bit of mud on them, so maybe he was digging that hole in the garden, who knows!! </div><div><br></div><div>"Sir.. chalta hoon.. Yasmeen ma'am ko bolna, Dileep aaya tha.. Kal toh weekend hai, Monday ko aaoonga" </div><div> </div><div>"Theek hai"</div><div><br></div><div>I now had 2 hours free. No sale meant I couldn't treat myself to a taxi to Mahalaxmi station. I was not looking forward to the walk, nor the weekend ahead of me. At least the train ride to Mira Road would be empty at this hour.. </div><div><br></div><div>Monday morning, I tried the number she gave me, but no response. Like she didn't need policy any more. At 1, I decided to make the hike to Worli again. I got to the station early to renew my pass, when I caught the headline in the Mid-Day... </div><div><br></div><div>"80's STAR HACKED TO DEATH OVER PROPERTY DISPUTE - BROTHER ABSCONDING!!!"</div><div><br></div><div><br><br></div>Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-11459114376132272782020-05-01T05:13:00.003+05:302020-05-01T05:14:41.423+05:30Some things are genetic.. It's funny how genetics work, you know!! <div><br /></div><div>If you have ever been to our house, you would remember that as you enter the house, there's a switchboard with 3 light switches - one each for the night lamp outside, a chandelier that shines the spotlight on anyone entering the house, and the staircase upstairs. For reasons that will be clear soon, let me also tell you that each of these lights can be operated by 2 way switches elsewhere in the house. </div><div><br /></div><div>This was sometime last week. It was almost bed time. The kids bedrooms are upstairs, and it is part of our nightly ritual to tuck them in to bed. As my daughter and I started making our trek up the stairs to her room, as part of my daily habit, I switched off the lights to the stairs by the door. My daughter, walking ahead of me, stopped in her tracks, turned around, walked passed me and switched the lights to the stairs right back on. Then she sped up the stairs and switched the same lights back off using the other switch closer to her bedroom. All, while I stood there with a completely puzzled look on my face.. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Don't you see??", she asked pointing to the switchboard by the door. </div><div><br /></div><div>I still couldn't see it. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Look!! All three switches are pointing down at the same time!!" </div><div><br /></div><div>It made perfect sense!!! I couldn't help but wonder, how 12 year old me also used to be fascinated by random instances of symmetry in real life. Of course, 2-way switches were something I had never seen in my life till I was maybe in my twenties, but I definitely remember ensuring doing hockey drills in perfect 8's and painstakingly making 2 stacks of 26 playing cards instead of randomly just making 2 piles. I would even prefer to keep my 3 books in 3 piles of 1, instead of 1 pile of 3 - at least that's my excuse for the mess on my table :) </div><div><br /></div><div>Somewhere along the road, this changed. I stopped looking out for such random symmetries in life. I guess life happened.</div><div><br /></div><div>All these thoughts flashed through my brain in that single moment. </div><div><br /></div><div>And then I said exactly what I think my very practical minded dad would have said to me 30 years ago.. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Stop doing this timepass, and go to bed quickly" </div><div><br /></div><div>It's funny how genetics work, you know!! </div>Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-52102438957593627912020-04-28T06:15:00.001+05:302020-04-28T06:58:37.369+05:30People Like Us!! The Harvard Business Review had an interesting case study / paper published about 20-odd years ago, known as "<a href="https://store.hbr.org/product/parable-of-the-sadhu-hbr-bestseller/97307">Parable of the Sadhu</a>". To provide a precis version of it, the author is going up on a hike in the Himalayas when his group finds a sadhu in acute hypothermia. Without their intervention the Sadhu would be dead. If they intervened to ensure his safety, they would miss their once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to complete this hike. To cut a long story short, the group takes enough care of the sadhu to get him out of the hypothermia, but carried on on their journey. <div><br></div><div>No one knows if the Sadhu survived or perished. </div><div><br></div><div>Someone that I really respect (not many of them around), brought this parable to my attention and asked if in our rush to get back to normal, we are making face shields, masks, sanitizers whatever, similar to taking sadhu up to a point, but not making sure it is going to keep him alive.</div><div><br></div><div>I don't have an answer to this question as such. What I do know, is that it is very common to look at things in the short term, and only do what is necessary to solve this current problem and move on, instead of reflection on why this problem was created, and what we need to do to ensure it never happens again. Today it is COVID-19, tomorrow it could be something else, but the people who are impacted by it today, will be the ones who are impacted tomorrow as well. </div><div><br></div><div>I would go so far as saying, that the amount of interest in COVID is primarily because it can happen to everyone - especially those who watch cable news and read newspapers at leisure. For years, we have known that our slums are unhygienic, and the urban poor really have to battle death at every corner of their daily routine, and we have not done anything about it. People like you and me, set up RO filters for our water, put up inverter backup for failing electricity, even take insurance for houses. We send our children to private school (and extra tuition on top of it!!). As far as possible, we would like to avoid any face with them. We even have separate utensils for them and some places do not even let them travel in the same elevators as us.. We live a life of privilege, even though we tell ourselves that we are "middle class". </div><div><br></div><div>For someone living in the slums at Dharavi, COVID may not be any scarier than the cholera outbreaks or TB outbreak or coming under a train while doing your morning business. We are now trying to make sure that guy in Dharavi is safe, not because we care for him, rather that there is a chance that the illness might transmit to people like us. Once we come up with a way to make sure there's no way to get this from "them", past history suggests we won't even bother with what happens with the virus, let alone what happens to them, until the next COVID comes about 5-10 years from now. </div><div><br></div><div>At no point, do I want to demean the risk of COVID-19. It is a dangerous illness that can be debilitating to anyone who contracts it. Just that some would have the ability to bounce back from it, but most who contract it might not even be counted in official statistics, and we would rather lock them down some place where they are nowhere to be seen. </div><div><br></div><div>Ask yourself this, if you were put in this situation, where you are invisible, not even a statistic, what would your reaction be? How long do you think your patience will last? Would you accept this or would you do something about it? </div><div><br></div><div>If you did something about it, would you be anti-national? </div><div><br></div><div>Will COVID-19 allow us to be completely <a href="https://youtu.be/eJCchvZyCco" target="_blank">honest about ourselves</a>, or would we go back into our imaginary utopia once the hysteria subsides?</div><div><br></div><div><i><b>Saare reeti riwaaz hatakar<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></b></i></div><div><i><b>Dekho apne ghar ke andar<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></b></i></div><div><i><b>Shayad kahin kisi kone mein<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></b></i></div><div><i><b>Ghoom raha hai kaala bandar </b></i></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-3660451502521647562020-04-27T06:50:00.003+05:302020-04-27T06:52:20.425+05:30Things I think I think<div><font face="helvetica" size="2">It's been a while since I did one of these.. Just like the times we live in, these are mostly incoherent thoughts. Feedback is always appreciated.. </font></div><div><font face="helvetica" size="2"><br /></font></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><font face="helvetica" size="2">Writing is my getaway from the rest of the world, something I do for myself to step away from all the push and pull of the universe. So, I could say that I am writing this to get away from all that's happening in the world right now.. So I should try and avoid any mention of it throughout the post. Unfortunately right now everyone is thinking about it, it is what everyone is talking about anyway, so I'd be a fool to not write about it either. </font></li></ul></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="helvetica" size="2"><br /></font></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><font face="helvetica" size="2">Somewhere in the era of populism, I feel that expertise has been sacrificed. It is my belief, that an expert owes her allegiance to her field and the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it is. In this era, the one who is great at what she does is generally not the one in the ears of the person we have chosen to make a decision. Rather it is the person who says whatever it is that the decision maker wants to hear. Maybe if this had happened about 12-15 years ago, we would have been better off. </font></li></ul></div></blockquote><div> </div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><font face="helvetica" size="2">Growing up, we were always told that this was a world where you were better off providing an honest assessment, instead of a convenient one. That world barely exists any more. What remains is that there's very little humility floating around. There are always limits to what we know and what we can do, and the person who accepts these limitations is generally sidelined for the one with the "can-do" attitude, because that's the convenient option. If this is how things used to forever, then I am surprised humanity has lasted this long. </font></li></ul></div></blockquote><div> </div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: small;">It also bothers me too much that the people who matter have way too much invested in the status quo, materially and emotionally, that instead of focusing on what is right, their entire focus seems to be how quickly we can get back to normal. If you go back through recorded history, be it financially, climatically, technologically or ethically, this current era is probably the anomaly. Thus, what is this normal that we seek, and is that really a normal we want? Or is it time to come to an understanding of what is the normal that works for most? If that is to happen, can it happen in an era where trust on each other is almost zero?</span></li></ul></div></blockquote><div> </div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><font face="helvetica" size="2">The fact is that at this point, I don't know what exactly I think about it. My normal mode used to be to take precautions about things, and then leave the rest to probabilities. And till now, for the most part, probabilities have been on my side. Or at least that has been my default mode. </font><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: small;">Stuff is what happened to other people. </span><font face="helvetica" size="2">That was till my dad passed away. The circumstances of that event were of such low probability, that I have tempered my "take all precautions, and ride the wave" philosophy. </font></li></ul></div></blockquote><div><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: small;">Since then, as you can probably tell from this post, I don't know what to think anymore. I did manage to make an entire post without actually mentioning it, didn't I? </span> </blockquote><div> </div><div><font face="helvetica" size="2"><br /></font></div><div><br /></div>Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-48693998183509073422020-04-18T01:42:00.001+05:302020-04-18T01:42:24.367+05:30What does it mean to be human? <div dir="ltr"><div dir="ltr" data-smartmail="gmail_signature">Note: the following is an exercise that I had to submit at an online writing class / workshop that I am participating in. The brief was that I pick a song that I love and consider to be a great song and and turn the narrative of the song into a story, written in prose. </div><div dir="ltr" data-smartmail="gmail_signature"><br></div><div dir="ltr" data-smartmail="gmail_signature">Can you guess the song I picked? </div><div dir="ltr" data-smartmail="gmail_signature"><br></div><div dir="ltr" data-smartmail="gmail_signature">***</div><div dir="ltr" data-smartmail="gmail_signature"><p class="MsoNormal">The Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History has a spectacular <a href="https://naturalhistory.si.edu/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://naturalhistory.si.edu/&source=gmail&ust=1587237121477000&usg=AFQjCNFIr5xsamTVMvEI1uoXRgYgi2xfRA">website</a> and on that spectacular website is an interesting <a href="http://humanorigins.si.edu/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://humanorigins.si.edu/&source=gmail&ust=1587237121477000&usg=AFQjCNGwdbRXNF_cPtjfiA0HFyp0dXZE1Q">page</a>, which asks an abstract question.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE HUMAN?</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Visitors to this webpage, can submit their own responses and I don’t know how to explain it, but when I landed on that page the other day, I couldn’t help but notice an entry by a 4-year-old girl named Olivia from Palatine, IL.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">“<a href="http://humanorigins.si.edu/olivia-age-4" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://humanorigins.si.edu/olivia-age-4&source=gmail&ust=1587237121477000&usg=AFQjCNFtviBbFlBbofvXHv68gaMLbSx9kg">It means I can imagine I'm a horse with my friends.</a>”</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Imagination.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">That one thing which differentiates humans from the rest of the species on this planet. Pretty much everything that we humans can relate to, is an imagination of some kind:</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Heaven or Hell – Imaginary concept of an afterlife that really no one has been able to prove to date.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Countries – Actual geographies, yes. But pretty much divided by imaginary lines drawn on a piece of paper by a bureaucrat in an airconditioned office somewhere. What is Slovakia today, was Czechoslovakia when I was a baby, and was something called Bohemia a little over a century ago.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Religion – I mean c’mon.. really?</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">All it needs, I guess, is for a bunch of people to imagine a common imagination and start “selling” this imagination to others who are not busy imagining things. Which also begs the question, that if you had to imagine something, why would you imagine something to kill or die for? Wouldn’t you imagine a life where all the people, are living a life of peace?</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">It might sound ridiculous or idealistic at first glance, but is it really? What gives one person the right to be superior to another? What is it today that prevents the world to be as one? The more I think of it, I am certain it’s just our ability to imagine.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">So, I say, if we have to imagine a world, let it be one where there’s no greed or hunger. A world where there’s no yours or mine, just ours. A world that shares its wisdom and its knowledge and works towards the betterment of all the species that have an equal right to be on this planet.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">A world that imagines a better version of itself.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Because that’s what makes us human.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">You may say I am a dreamer. Surely, I am not the only one!! </p></div></div><div class="mail-elided-text" dir="auto">Show quoted text</div>Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-52041296783872226772020-04-17T02:00:00.001+05:302020-04-17T02:00:39.048+05:30On Competence... <div>There is a time and a place for everything. </div><div><br></div><div>For bravado and braggadocio. </div><div><br></div><div>For taking no prisoners and accepting no responsibility. </div><div><br></div><div>For taking the credit and deflecting the blame. </div><div><br></div><div>For superiority of class or caste or religion or hierarchy. </div><div><br></div><div>But this is not that time. </div><div><br></div><div>This is the time to be humble. </div><div><br></div><div>A time to be open and transparent. </div><div><br></div><div>To accept that mistakes have been made. </div><div><br></div><div>To provide the confidence that mistakes will not be compounded. </div><div><br></div><div>To ensure that there’s something bigger than what sets us apart</div><div><br></div><div>To be together. </div><div><br></div><div>To be competent. </div><div><br></div>Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-37281794057299876992020-02-02T23:58:00.000+05:302020-02-03T00:34:16.090+05:30You ain't no friend of mine!! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I was younger, so much younger than today, a place of worship was brought down. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">What ensued, meant for the first time I was checking who my friends were. Till then, they were friends. Thereafter they had an adjective before the "friend" attached. A religious adjective. Up until then, religion was mostly defined by who went for Catechism and who took Moral Science. But then it became some much more. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It became political. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">However, even with all the politics around, I was always told that politics shouldn't come between friends. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">At some levels, it felt right. Every strain of political thought goes with some things that are said, and most that are unsaid. You may say that markets are the solution to economic worries, or that the government is the panacea to things that markets are incapable of handling. You could disagree whether the biggest threat to the nation was the neighbor to the West, or the one to the North East. You could discuss whether the Nuclear Test was worth the sanctions that the rest of the world put upon the nation and have differing views on it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But what was unsaid, yet plainly understood, was that there was a common destination for all, but the route we took to get there was a matter of disagreement. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Up until now, that is. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I could go on and on about how manipulative the whole set up is, but there are people who are better at me in putting words to the anguish. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Like Prem Panicker here in this masterful post in a style that only he can: <a href="https://prempanicker.wordpress.com/2020/02/02/in-the-beginning-was-the-word/amp/?__twitter_impression=true" target="_blank">In the beginning was the word</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The manipulation is so detailed, and so deliberate, to demonize people who are just asking to be heard. Not only are they now people who "<span style="background-color: white;">will enter “your homes” to “rape, kill, your wives and daughters”, they are also people who will do anything for money because some opposition parties are offering <a href="https://www.altnews.in/caa-protests-morphed-image-claims-shaheen-bagh-protesters-paid-rs-500-per-day/" target="_blank">500 bucks per attendee</a> at these protests. (Makes you wonder though, if a political party can actually fund a few thousand people every day for over 50 days, and claim political benefit out of it, you'd assume that this party would have a budget beyond belief.. Now which party would that be??) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">But anyway, I digress. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">It's becoming very clear (to me at least) that forget the route, there is fundamental disagreement in the direction in which the country should be headed. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I was the fool who thought that a developed country was not an insecure one. I was the idiot who felt that giving people the opportunity to shine, is more important than blockading an entire state for months together in the name of integrating them with the rest of the nation. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Apparently, when we were promised development, this development is what everyone wanted. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Politics shouldn't come between friends.. </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">But if that's the development you want, then you are no friend of mine.. You can keep your country, but you are no-one to me.. We might be cordial, but to me you are a perpetrator. If you believe that a million people, braving the cold, waiting patiently for someone to come and talk to them, are traitorous mercenaries, then it is you that is despicable, not them. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">There is still time though.. </span></span><a href="https://youtu.be/MQ4-7GPeaLw?t=9256" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;" target="_blank">Mere andar ke jaanwar ko mat jagao.. </a></div>
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Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-47180684483924691982020-01-15T06:10:00.001+05:302020-01-15T06:10:54.764+05:30Let's Say it's all true.. Let's say you're telling the truth.<div><br></div><div>Let's go with your logic that people are being deliberately misled </div><div><br></div><div>Let's say that it's people lying about your intentions </div><div><br></div><div>Let's say that your intentions are super noble </div><div><br></div><div>But what does it say about your credibility and your track record on communal matters, that people who took you on your word on GPS chip waala currency notes, and a supposedly Good and Simple Tax, and that a F16 was downed, and 300 terrorists being killed in a surgical strike, and a Naga peace accord, and Acche Din, don't believe you </div>Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-5857727683255458152020-01-11T07:06:00.000+05:302020-01-11T07:06:07.216+05:30Primal Fear<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
What is fear? <div>
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Is fear the same as being afraid. ? </div>
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Is it semantics? </div>
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Of all the emotions, fear, along lust, is probably the most primal. Fear, of the lurking predator, is what brings out all the survival mechanisms in an animal. Without fear, animals would not survive their next encounter with a predator. The prey knows the predator, and knows what the predator is capable of, so has to be constantly on the lookout for not giving the predator any opportunity to pounce. </div>
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So how do you describe fear? </div>
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More importantly, if someone "tells" you to be fearless, can you automatically cure yourself of the fear? </div>
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It may be all in the mind, but it is in the mind where you win or lose. Where you fall prey or survive. Fear is the one "emotion" common to all animals, including us humans. </div>
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That said, if there's one thing that's definitely unique to us humans, it's the concept of identity. Identity is what defines us, gives us meaning, provides us a safety net, when there is nothing else to fall back on. </div>
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Identity is what keeps us sane. </div>
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You can identify yourself in whichever way you feel like, but it's your identity. If someone comes along and puts your identity under threat, is when you feel most vulnerable to your neighborhood predator. </div>
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And no matter how much someone comes along with words, there's nothing you or I can do, to assuage someone who believes their entire identity is being threatened. </div>
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This is their battle. </div>
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This is my support to them. </div>
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Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-23529299687475603872019-02-24T05:22:00.002+05:302019-02-24T05:22:27.267+05:30The release<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
this is a blank paper. there isn't anything to write. the words are gone. the habit of writing is gone. but that cannot be. I have to get out of this funk.<br />
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And there's only one way.<br />
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By writing. Whatever comes to mind should be on paper.<br />
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Because this is my release. </div>
Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-6418552753021001252017-07-09T23:25:00.002+05:302017-07-09T23:25:43.368+05:30The Farewell<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
So there we were.. Two of us..<br />Walking about a mile..<br />The mile we didn't want to walk..<br />But we had to..</div>
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For many years ago, a promise was made.<br />I want to see the Pacific ocean once in my life, he said,<br />Or if I can't make it,<br />take my ashes</div>
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Like that Nehru, who apparently<br />Was taken all over the country<br />at least that's what they told us in school.<br />You live there, you can do it as your dharma.. ..<br />Half in jest, I'd said ok</div>
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And here we were, with the ashes, walking that mile..<br />On a glorious day.<br />The kind that would make you<br />fall in love at first sight with the ocean</div>
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There he was, in a tiny container,<br />One that he had got Lindt chocolates for us in.<br />and we, Nikhil and I, bent over<br />To let him see and feel the water that he so wanted to see</div>
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The water entered the container,<br />and slowly he became one with the ocean,<br />Almost as if old memories were being renewed,</div>
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And then, with recognition done<br />Came out a huge wave, the largest that day,<br />Took everything, the ashes, the container, the memories along<br />As if to say, "Old friend, what took you so long?"</div>
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Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-11744010343337091172017-03-24T08:58:00.000+05:302017-03-24T08:58:25.856+05:30The Seeta maiyya defence.. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Many many moons ago, there lived a Maryada Purushottam.. On most accounts, he was supposed to be a fine human being - to the point of being almost revered as an avatar of a celestial being. As the name suggests, he was a just and noble ruler. There are very few reports and evidences of his justice and nobility, but my grandmother said he was and I don't think my Dajji had any reason to lie.<br />
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Anyway, our dear MP (it's a pain to type Maryada Purushottam every time, boss) was all fine and dandy, except for a tiny flaw. It's debatable if it was a character flaw or it was more being in touch with those times, but in today's day and age, our MP would be considered as a Male Chauvinist. More like an immature chauvinist, for whom the world revolved around him and his responsibilities and everyone and everything can pretty much take a hike. ("Man" kind hasn't evolved much since then, I know.. The burdens we all bear)<br />
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For example, MP had zero issues with asking his newlywed bride to pack up her bags (or whatever existed in those days to pack belongings) and join him in exile in the forest for 12 years. All because he made a promise to his dad and stepmother. Old school tropes like "a woman's home is with her swami" are thrown around at such times, but my point is that MP had the opportunity to be a little different (show leadership, think out of the box, and all that jazz) and he blew it.<br />
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Or take for instance, the time when Lady Purushottam was kidnapped. It so happened that our man went all Tarantino on a Sri Lankan lady who made a pass at him. Lady Jayawardhane's brother sought revenge and in an act of tit for tat (oh how inappropriate!!) kidnapped Lady Purushottam..<br />
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Now Julius Jayawardhane (not quite his name, but you must admit that it has a nice ring to it) was by all accounts a reasonable, if slightly impulsive, man. It's said that he held the wisdom of 10 men in his brain. In his rage, he took Lady Purushottam to his kingdom but treated her with the utmost respect throughout. But kidnap her, he had and therefore he had after all touched her.<br />
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Now after a battle of galactic proportions, our man MP rescued his wife. Not that she was in much strife but somehow the record always states "rescued" like she was being tortured day and night, month on month, year by year and all that.<br />
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So here was Lady Purushottam, literally and figuratively, spending years in a garden with nothing else to do, and now her swami has vanquished mountains and monkeys and demons and Himalayan Ayurveda to take her back.<br />
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Everything is awesome, all over again!!! Husband and wife, two soul mates of centuries past, united again and lived in celestial marital bliss!!<br />
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Err.. Just one glitch..<br />
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Our man here, never really went about looking for his wife because, you know, she could be in any danger. He went, because someone "stole" his wife and it was a matter of lost honour. At least, that's what it looks like, because once he went about decimating all the odds and got his wife back, and honour restored and all that, here's happened..<br />
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Agnipariksha.. (another man had touched her, you see)<br />
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Not like her word counted for anything. The dude went through a bunch of hoops and then decided that he did not trust her after all. So very doubtful that he trusted her to begin with. He was an honourable man, and his honour counted more than anything else.<br />
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So for the sake of his honour and ego, The Maryada Purushottam made his soul mate go through a trial by fire. If she had nothing to hide, then she'll have no problems in the fire, or any other ordeal that she'll be made to go through.<br />
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The concept of burden of proof lies on the accuser was not in vogue in those just and simple days.<br />
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That definitely will not happen again today right??<br />
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Not with our modern day Maryada Purushottams also being among the best legal minds in the country, right?<br />
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Right???<br />
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Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-59814184838634932312016-12-11T19:59:00.001+05:302016-12-11T19:59:30.006+05:30True Story6th December 1992. I'm thinking it was around 11.30 in the morning. <div><br></div><div>A day and time that I doubt I will ever forget. Changed everything I knew about the world. Changed the way I saw my friends and the way I saw complete strangers, and almost certain it changed the way how people saw me. Even today, 24 years later, the happenings of that day are imprinted in my mind and believe it or not, I even recall where I was, at the time. </div><div><br></div><div>At the ophthalmologist, getting glasses fitted for the first time. </div><div><br></div><div>What did you think? </div>Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-33662261003255361752016-12-01T08:34:00.001+05:302016-12-01T08:34:51.559+05:30Story of my life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Filmmakers are the
experts in storytelling. Conveying story arcs and displaying emotions on
screen, are easy, or relatively easier, than getting the message across in a
visually fulfilling and stimulating manner for the audience. Which is why we
have some movies which are just so-so, and some which are really the work of
genius. Very often, these two movies may not even have much difference in terms
of plotlines and story flow, but the treatment and the presentation which can
make or break a movie. </div>
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A critical element
of the presentation of the movie, is the background music. A good background
music score, can help convey the emotion of the moment in the movie better than
any line of dialogue. The key to good background music though, is that remains
often in the background, and keeps the story flow front and centre. Composers
of great background music, are practically curators of art, where they blend
into the cinematic furniture, but bring a glow to the movie, which can never be
replicated. They can uniquely convey the mood of the movie, often from the
perspective of the protagonist(s) that helps the audience better understand
which way the story is going to develop. An incompetent composer, on the other
hand, can literally turn your cinematic gold, into a piece of unadulterated
garbage. </div>
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Unfortunately, real
life provides no such background music. The song in your head, plays according
to the mood you're in. The sad part though, is that the song playing in your
head is very often much, much different in mood and tempo, to what is playing out
in real time in front of your eyes. Blessed are those, who can recall and play
the most appropriate song / piece of music in their heads, for that instant,
that moment, as it unfolds. </div>
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Maybe that's is what
true success is. After all, I am told, success is just a state of the mind. </div>
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As it turns out, my
own Christopher Nolan movie feels at times like it has a music track by
Sajid-Wajid. It IS a Nolan masterpiece, that most "directors" would
give their right arms, and an kidney to call their own. But the entire
experience somehow, somewhere tends to wear me down. The problem I think, is
the background track. </div>
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There are days,
where I think I could do with a different curator of my background track and
that the current one has gone beyond its shelf life. You could say that the
"<a href="http://www.pink-floyd-lyrics.com/html/brain-damage-dark-lyrics.html" target="_blank">band I'm in, starts playing different tunes</a>". Or to convey to a
younger audience, it's almost as if my livestream is on a constant buffering
mode, playing at BSNL speeds. To be fair
to them, Sajid-Wajid are trying their absolute best, but it's not really
looking like the right fit to the story. </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
How will this story
unfold? </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Watch this space, I guess</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
All I can say is, it's not even time for the Interval yet :) </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-23204865900196615052016-11-23T08:16:00.001+05:302016-11-23T08:16:20.976+05:30Fixed You <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="tr_bq">
When I first heard of the Coldplay concert, I did think about it. But I figured there would be a million others and the rush and the crowd and all of that meant I decided it was better to keep my twenty five thousand in the bank. </div>
<br />
As it turned out, while the concert was going on, I was in a different crowd, trying to get those twenty five thousand (in hundred rupee denominations, mind you!!) and thinking about the Coldplay concert, where I gather they played this song.. <br />
<b><br /></b>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>Fixed You - </b></blockquote>
<blockquote>
When you want your own dough, but you don't succeed<br />When you won't get what you want, not even what you need<br />When you're so penniless, that you just can't sleep<br />Stuck in reverse<br /><br />And the tears come streaming down your face<br />All your life's worth that you just can't replace<br />It's all legal, but there's no one to explain<br />Could it be worse?<br /><br />ATM lines will send you home<br />And confuse your bones<br />And He would have fixed you<br /><br />From Delhi above to Kochi below<br />Lines long enough to just let it go<br />But if you never stand you'll never know<br />Just what you're worth<br /><br />ATM lines will send you home<br />And confuse your bones<br />And He would have fixed you<br /><br />Tears stream down your face<br />When you lose something you cannot replace<br />Tears stream down your face and you<br />Tears stream down your face<br />2019 you'd learn from your mistakes<br />Tears stream down your face and you<br /><br />ATM lines will send you home<br />And confuse your bones<br />And He would have fixed you</blockquote>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-88253122921323299852016-07-09T09:08:00.001+05:302016-07-09T09:08:11.836+05:30On Federer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"He should retire.. Why doesn't he retire??"<br />
<br />
That's pretty much where conversations lead to these days.. Whether it's continuous beatings at the hands of the latest sheriff in town, or injuries.. Or just the guy has won so much that he doesn't need it any more..<br />
<br />
But essentially the entire conversation leads to the topic of the guy's retirement.<br />
<br />
For a long time, I too was of the same opinion.. All the rooting for the guy, the incessant viewing of the latest score - all the apps, all the websites, all the television channels (now in HD).. and all I've had to show for it since for pretty much the last 6 years is disappointment..<br />
<br />
So, essentially my response to the disappointment is to ask him to stop it.. To retire, because I know I cannot take it any more.. I know in my heart of hearts that he will have to beat 7 guys essentially 5-8 years younger than him to win another Grand Slam..<br />
<br />
And I have lived long enough to know that it's not happening, or rather if it DOES happen, it will take a miracle of Leicester City proportions..<br />
<br />
But then Cilic happened.<br />
<br />
And everything came rushing back.. The same frustrations, ecstasies, reliefs.<br />
<br />
And came the epiphany.. It's an individual game, no one is forcing anyone to play.. He's still good enough to be 3 in the world.. If I cannot handle the disappointment, it's not anyone else's problem.. Certainly not his.. Especially if he's playing as if he's having so much fun..<br />
<br />
Keep on playing sir..<br />
<br />
It's not you, it's me.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/is-JCJCUy18" width="560"></iframe></div>
Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-47571327220436800692016-02-20T15:16:00.000+05:302016-02-20T15:16:05.667+05:30The F- word<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal tr_bq">
Every so often, it becomes important to sit down and question.
And so, the Question of the Day, seems to be something on the lines of – <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
“Does anyone,<i> anyone at all</i>, know
what the hell is going on?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s all nice and easy to say that X is anti-national, or Y
is autocratic or whatever. But whatever it is that you are saying, with so much
certainty and sense of finality, it implies you are very well aware of the
repercussions of what you say, and with the knowledge of this, you stand by
what you say. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even if all you have done, is actually pressed on that
WhatsApp message, copied that message and then touched that right arrow and broadcast
it to the 256 contacts on your phone, who then have forwarded to 256 more such
blow-hards.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You still stand by what you say. Or forward. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But then, that implicitly assumes you know what is going on.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What if you don’t? What if you’re being played? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This thought keeps coming to me, when I see people express
their anger on social media. Eminently normal people, people who I meet and see
every once in a while, some close, some not so, all evidently have a humongous
reservoir of anger deep inside, where they express what’s deep inside. They
call people names, they advocate murder, support lynching on the foundation of
whataboutery, call for armed revolt, and what not. Many of these do this, even
though, their “side” is supposedly the responsible one.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do these people have any clue to what they’re saying? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then people like this, vote for people like them, who
then land up in the corridors of power. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Either completely clueless, or extremely cognizant, of the
power they wield. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The worst part is, I don’t know which of the two, is the scarier
scenario. <o:p></o:p></div>
<blockquote style="background-color: white; color: #383838; font-family: 'Mercury SSm A', 'Mercury SSm B', Palatino, 'Palatino Linotype', Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 2em; padding: 0px;">
<br /><i style="line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—</i><i style="line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Because I was not a Socialist.</i><span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span></blockquote>
<blockquote style="background-color: white; color: #383838; font-family: 'Mercury SSm A', 'Mercury SSm B', Palatino, 'Palatino Linotype', Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 2em; padding: 0px;">
<i style="line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—</i> <i style="line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Because I was not a Trade Unionist.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote style="background-color: white; color: #383838; font-family: 'Mercury SSm A', 'Mercury SSm B', Palatino, 'Palatino Linotype', Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 2em; padding: 0px;">
<i style="line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—</i> <i style="line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Because I was not a Jew.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote style="background-color: white; color: #383838; font-family: 'Mercury SSm A', 'Mercury SSm B', Palatino, 'Palatino Linotype', Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 2em; padding: 0px;">
<i style="line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.</i></blockquote>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/article.php?ModuleId=10007391" style="background-color: white; color: #4f6d91; font-family: 'Mercury SSm A', 'Mercury SSm B', Palatino, 'Palatino Linotype', Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;">Martin Niemöller</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #383838; font-family: 'Mercury SSm A', 'Mercury SSm B', Palatino, 'Palatino Linotype', Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px; text-align: left;"> (1892–1984) </span> </div>
<blockquote style="background-color: white; color: #383838; font-family: 'Mercury SSm A', 'Mercury SSm B', Palatino, 'Palatino Linotype', Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 2em; padding: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span></blockquote>
</div>
Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-39400460854759556202016-02-07T20:15:00.000+05:302016-02-07T20:15:37.626+05:30Life in the age of Razzle Dazzle<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's amazing.. Simply amazing!!! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How is it that no matter what I try, I never have time to do anything that I want?? So many things, often meaningless, mundane bull crap, that occupy my mind, that need my immediate attention, and the day just speeds by as if it's <a href="http://pixar.wikia.com/wiki/Dash_Parr" target="_blank">Dash </a>on steroids.. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You'd think there's been some technological miracle that has made a day last only 19 hours!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The funny thing is that I hear so many people, who keep saying this to me about their own lives. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If only there was some free time for me to just concentrate!! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So then I sat this morning, and tried to figure out what the problem was.. And it hit me that there indeed has been a technological miracle.. One that has been in my hands for the longest time.. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The frikkin' smartphone!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Earlier, there used to be some time to switch off. Some "down time" which allowed the brain to relax a bit. Now, with the addiction of the smartphone and the gadgetry and apps and the non-stop blast of information coming at me, the brain is consistently occupied with no refresh mode.. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The problem is not the down-time, or lack thereof.. Rather it's more to do with the fact that the feeling of being rushed into things is not something that I am very fond of. It makes me take short cuts, where I shouldn't. It forces me to speed through things which I should spend more time thinking about. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like reading the headlines of the newspaper, most information thrown at me hardly provides any details of what actually is going on. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The rush to the next bling, is the closest I have come to an addiction.. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The problem with this, is that with incomplete information, it is always possible that my thoughts and decisions are half-baked and not well thought through.. I might be taking the easy way out, instead of doing what is right. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In short my brain is <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thinking,_Fast_and_Slow" target="_blank">more System 1, rather than System 2.. </a>The sad part is, it's quite possible that I am not the only one.. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A state of affairs where Donald Trump can be looked at as a possible Leader of the Free World, suggests that I am definitely not the only one obsessed with the next glitter in town. One where the simple promise of "Acche Din" has a greater connect than detailed policy specifics, and where a prestigious military event needs the <a href="http://www.business-standard.com/article/pti-stories/international-fleet-review-2016-opens-in-style-116020600008_1.html" target="_blank">likes of Akshay Kumar and Kangna Ranaut as "brand ambassadors" </a> is not the one I was told that I would be growing up in. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Is it possible, that all the nonsense spewing in the world, is basically a side-effect of our own busy schedules and inability to find the time to think?? </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /><i style="color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17.03px;">I think he knows what Rome is. Rome is the mob. Conjure magic for them and they'll be distracted. Take away their freedom and still they'll roar. The beating heart of Rome is not the marble of the senate, it's the sand of the coliseum. He'll bring them death - and they will love him for it</i> </span></blockquote>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">~Gladiator</span> </span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(Full disclosure: Even as I type this, I have Apple Music streaming on my phone) </span></div>
Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-55866752909795519232015-10-25T19:51:00.001+05:302015-10-27T11:12:30.442+05:30Brain damage..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: start;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: center;">The lunatic is on the grass</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: start;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: center;">The lunatic is on the grass</span></i></span></div>
<div>
</div>
<i><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: center;">Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Got to keep the loonies on the path</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="text-align: center;">
</span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="text-align: center;">
</span></span>
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: center;">It never was this way.. That's what everyone seems to say.. You never got killed for what lay in your fridge.. I don't know if that was ever the case.. It have heard of weird stuff happening for a long, really long time... Maybe people are getting killed for the food in the fridge all along.. It just wasn't being reported maybe.. Who knows?? Maybe the liberal media is playing up things.. Or maybe the entire shenanigans are a result of a lot of people finding their voice in the new majority that they have gotten.. The anonymity that being in a mob allows them, makes them do things that would never dream of doing if they had to do it all by themselves.. Maybe beef, is a symptom of a wider malaise..</span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: center;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">
</span></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">Who knows??</span></span></span></div>
</div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">
</span></span></span>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
</div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Who cares??</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</span><i><span style="color: blue;"><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
The lunatic is in the hall</div>
</div>
</span><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
The lunatics are in my hall</div>
</div>
</span><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor</div>
</div>
</span></span></i><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="color: blue;">And every day the paper boy brings more</span></i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
It's not as if bad news wasn't flowing through in previous governments.. Bad things kept happening.. The damned set was corrupt, that's what they all said.. We got rid of them, got promised good, nay great days.. But the bloody bad news keeps coming unabated.. One weirder than the others.. Every single one of them, where people unwilling to take individual responsibility for their actions, acting in a group.. The PM says it's not his fault.. What could he do in Delhi, if a dude, hitherto unknown, got lynched in Himachal, or wherever.. Writers were getting bumped off for the longest time.. We didn't say anything then, did we?? So why now, you biased so-and-so.. </div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
But it's not about finding fault, is it?? It is about accepting the fact that this has happened, and being ashamed that something like this has happened on my watch.. It doesn't matter a whit, if it had happened before.. We didn't like it that the other lot took zero responsibility for the shit that hit the fan on their watch.. We hoped that you would be different.. But alas, you're no different than the other bunch.. </div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
</div>
</span><i><span style="color: blue;"><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
And if the dam breaks open many years too soon</div>
</div>
</span><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
And if there is no room upon the hill</div>
</div>
</span><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
And if your head explodes with dark forbodings too</div>
</div>
</span><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon</div>
</div>
</span><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
The lunatic is in my head</div>
</div>
</span></span></i><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="color: blue;">The lunatic is in my head</span></i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Maybe it's not really them.. Maybe it's me.. Maybe it's me that's driving down the wrong side of the road, blaming everyone for coming in what is, essentially, a one way street.. Maybe it's all in my head.. Maybe I'm the wrong guy in this bunch.. </div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Maybe</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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Just, may be..</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></i></div>
</div>
</span><i style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
You raise the blade, you make the change</div>
</div>
</span><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
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You re-arrange me 'till I'm sane</div>
</div>
</span><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
You lock the door</div>
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</span><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
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And throw away the key</div>
</div>
</span></span></i><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: blue;">There's someone in my head but it's not me.</span></i></div>
</div>
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So then, what should we do?? What should we do to all these voices in my head that keep telling me to call their bluff?? What should we do to the tremendous urge to tell everyone to just shut up, and not outrage, since there really is nothing to outrage about?? What should be done to the feeling to sit them down and explain to them the simple statistical fact that when you are 78% of the country, there is no bloody way in this universe that you can be outnumbered by someone that is only 13% .. Even if we live in Kalyug, these are actually the most peaceful and prosperous days that humankind has since the Big Bang.. </div>
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But is the ONLY way to drown outrage, MORE outrage??</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: start;">
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<i><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></i></div>
</div>
</span></span><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear</div>
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</span><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
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You shout and no one seems to hear</div>
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</span><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
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And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes</div>
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</span></span><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: start;">
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
~ Brain Damage</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
By Pink Floyd</span></div>
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</span></i></span></div>
Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-174377623483215162015-09-27T12:42:00.001+05:302015-09-27T12:42:39.842+05:30Lazy thoughtsIt's not very often that I have not had a computer to type out a quick blog. But over the last three odd months, I've refrained from writing something. That's because, we got rid our old faithful desktop and are yet to replenish our computing stocks with some worthy equivalent. As a rule, I do not use my work laptop for any of the blogging activity, in order to keep some level of propriety by not mixing work and pleasure. <div><br></div><div>That being said, it's not like the thought process has stopped in the intervening period. So, I'm trying a new method to post something. Something that I ought to have done long , long ago.. Use the iPad to blog about the world..</div><div><br></div><div>It's a grand Sunday afternoon, with the Ganpati immersion processions enforcing a kind of house arrest. The kids are playing and studying (in some combination thereof) and it's basically a lazy day. Just the kind of Sunday I normally have in mind.</div><div><br></div><div>Wonder why I never thought of this writing via the iPad thing before??</div>Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-80567641970701038292015-06-25T08:53:00.000+05:302015-06-25T08:53:07.624+05:30Killing the Golden Goose.. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Overdoing something is such a common human tendency that Aesop was compelled to write <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Goose_That_Laid_the_Golden_Eggs" target="_blank">a fable about it</a>..<br />
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However, when it comes to India, Indians and Indian politicians in particular, there is an affinity of a special kind..<br />
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The immediate incident that comes to mind is the <a href="http://www.dnaindia.com/india/report-for-every-three-engineering-seats-just-two-aspirants-in-maharashtra-2098034" target="_blank">news report recently</a> that Engineering college seats in Maharashtra are only 2/3rds occupied.. Out of about 157,000 seats in 365 engineering colleges, only 107,000 seats will likely be used up this year..<br />
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Read that again.. 365 engineering colleges.. in Maharashtra alone..<br />
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Over a 20 year period, this number has gone up <a href="http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/nagpur/Maharashtra-colleges-get-18k-more-engineering-seats-this-year/articleshow/20216548.cms" target="_blank">3 fold</a>, with the number of seats increasing 4-fold.. Also, there's really no substantial increase in the number of government colleges, it's only fair to assume that this increase is solely fueled by private institutes mushrooming up in every nook and cranny of the state.. Every single money bag, either a politician or with political connections, worth his / her salt has an educational institute - mostly engineering and medical colleges - instituted in the name of their father, their son and the holy spirit. The resultant supply overshoots demand - remember population growth rate and economic growth rate have not kept pace with the increase - and we have ghost classes<br />
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A normal economist would call this a classic demand supply mismatch and would probably wait for the supply curve to correct itself to meet the demand or whatever.. But when there's an Indian money bag involved, rational economics can go for a toss. A lot of these "institutes" are likely the avenue for churning funny money into legal tender.. So, the promoter, really doesn't see the need to wind up - since the actual need for this college is being met anyway.. All you are left with, is engineering students, brought up on a rote learning system, with the sole objective to pass 4 years of undergraduate school, get placed in a "Cogni" type body shop, 2 years to return a positive ROI on the engineering fees and then an MBA - Rinse, Repeat.. see above.<br />
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It's not just Engineering colleges.. it's everywhere.. Kindergarten / Day Care.. MBA / Medical schools.. Tuition classes.. from KG to PG..<br />
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All to make a quick buck.. and everyone happy... Unfortunately, unlike the famous Warren Buffett quote, there's really no sign of the<a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/w/warrenbuff383933.html" target="_blank"> tide going out anytime soon.. </a><br />
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This is not a post with a solution in mind.. It's probably a good idea to have an engineering body to certify the engineering skills of individuals - kinda like the Chartered Accountancy thing - for the engineering degree to mean something. But not knowing enough about who and what can certify engineers, it's not right for me to comment.Plus, what all can you regulate?<br />
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It's just something that's bothering me, that's all..<br />
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My old English teacher once told me that Fools rush in, where the angels are fearing to tread, but would you rather be a rich fool or a middle class angel?? </div>
Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-86047635888825683192015-06-21T20:41:00.001+05:302015-06-21T20:41:12.993+05:30Blood, sweat, but no tears - a Father's Day post.. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
They say every boy's role model is his father, and I have been no exception..<br />
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From the walk, to the hairstyle and the voice tone, not to mention the looks, the love for English music, the ability to sit in front of a computer endlessly, the natural tendency to watch TV lying down, (I could go on and on) I have consciously or sub-consciously copied my dad. Well, everything except the smoking habit - that my brother has picked up..<br />
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As I sit here and try to refresh my memories from 36 years, so many instances stick out on how my dad was way ahead of his times.. Every now and then, I meet women who relinquish their career choices to satisfy those of their husbands, and I think how - in 1987, no less - my mother went to Germany for 2 years on her own for her Ph.D work, with the full support of her husband.. He took care of us, as a "single" parent, not just for those 2 years but even beyond that, since my mom worked daily in Mumbai, especially the 6 months in a year, when my grand parents were away in Delhi, he ran the show all by himself..He ran his own business, but he would be there for every school event, every teacher meeting, every sick note, and every breakfast..<br />
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Once in a while, when I fret about how doing a job is pointless and how I should start something of my own, but really don't have the balls to do so, I am simply amazed how he managed his little business, from scratch to a respectable level, give it his blood and sweat and tears, only to see it crumble one fine day.<br />
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No sweat.. No excuses.. Just dust yourself up and do your job.. ..<br />
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However, like most "men" he's not very comfortable with emotions.. It's something you just don't do - I am no exception.. It's probably how generations of men have been raised.. Keep calm and carry on.. Do your job, and don't worry about frivolity like emotions and sentiment..<br />
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No wonder, the hero of this post - my dad, would probably think of Father's Day as a colossal waste, therefore potentially rendering this post as a waste too.<br />
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At least that's what he'll say publicly.. Deep inside, I think, he loves the attention :) </div>
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Happy Father's Day, Papa!!! I hope I can be half the dad that you've been to us..<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/SVmjKHkgxis" width="420"></iframe> </div>
Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7891070.post-12142598806030800422015-06-20T08:57:00.002+05:302015-06-20T08:57:47.396+05:3010 Questions.. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So..<br />
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<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li>Are you going to participate in the International Yoga Day?? </li>
<li>If you are, would you be doing it as to fulfill your fitness routine, your religious beliefs or out of patriotism? </li>
<li>If it is out of your fitness routine, are you doing it regularly or just tomorrow? </li>
<li>If it is not part of your regular fitness routine, why are you doing it tomorrow? Just for kicks or to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keeping_up_with_the_Joneses" target="_blank">keep up with the Joshis</a>?? </li>
<li>If you are going to do this as part of your regular fitness routine, do you normally exercise on Sundays? </li>
<li>If you are doing it out of your religious beliefs, what about yoga is religious? </li>
<li>If you are not doing it out of some weird patriotic belief that by doing this, you reinforce your patriotic duty now that the Indian Government has successfully lobbied the United Nations to make June 21, International Yoga Day, will you be engaging in this next year, when International Yoga Day will be on a boring Tuesday?? </li>
<li>If not, is it important to you that you be part of a Government sponsored mass PT event that makes it to the Guinness Book? </li>
<li>If you are going to do it anyway, for a reason not mentioned above, will you <i><b>still </b></i>be taking part if someone called it the Indian version of <a href="http://en.rocketnews24.com/2014/03/31/you-aint-seen-north-korean-calisthenics-til-youve-seen-it-done-to-final-fantasy-iv-boss-music/" target="_blank">North Korean calisthenics</a>?</li>
<li>Finally, if all this is purely symbolic, and really nothing is going to be gained out of this entire "exercise", why are you wasting a bloody Sunday??? </li>
</ol>
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Sandgroperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13178259339779993694noreply@blogger.com0