Power Cut

I just survived a power shut down of humongasaurian proportions.. (If you do not know what Humongasaur is then go here.) and I've come up with a list of things you could do to survive a similar occurence. Also this might help people ranging from any part of Tamil Nadu other than Chennai as they have scheduled power cuts. Chennai of course maintains the oxymoron of being cool while hot.  So here goes..

10 things to do when power cuts and the summer gangs up on you..

1) Fluids. Make sure you are drinking a lot of water. Anticipate power cuts and make sure you have plenty of liquids in cold storage. Ginger and Lemon with honey is an awesome coolant. This might be the perfect time for you to try the new non-carbonated drinks on offer like nimbuz, lmn and tion. I recommend tiON.. especially the apple and orange flavours..

2) Sleep. This is the time to catch up for lost time and get some serious shut eye.. Try to change your body clock by sleeping an hour late at night.. (I would suggest getting up an hour early.. but that would be sacrilegious and hypocritical)

3) Movies. Now this is a great idea especially if you are like me and don't care much about what film you are going to see. Going to the theatre is preferred (and by theatre I don't mean the western interpretation but the local one) If you are in CBE I would suggest going to either KG Big Cinemas or VR Complex as all others supposedly put off their A/Cs and in some cases don't even put them on. An alternative would be to download some great movies and keep your laptop charged and ready.

4) Exercise. I know it sounds crazy but if you learn to revel in the heat you won't feel it as much. And all the extra sweating is not going to make you smell worse. If in the process you build some muscle and lose some flab, good for you.

5) Swear words. You can go about learning some new swear words so that you can be articulate and expressive when you want to criticise the power cut ministry.

6) Read. Those who already have a figure to die for, you can look at the more sedate pathway of reading. It sure is the next best thing to sleeping. If you haven't run out of excuses so far to read the book you've always meant to read the power cut will surely get rid of that.

7) Bath. Those of you who are just getting out of college, especially the hostel, there is this new invention, which came into being a few thousand years ago called bathing. 3 hours perfect for a long bath.

8) Cook. For all those planning to go abroad as a good for nothing else grad student, power cuts are perfect opportunities to learn new recipes and some experimenting.

9) Discover. Try visiting some new places, make new friends and find old ones. While making new friends, make sure that they live in an area with power cut scheduled at a different time than yours. This, remember, is the most important thing about summer friendships.

10) Ornithology. Lastly and as usual not leastly bird watching is a definite must during these times. The heat brings out all the pretty birds out of their nests making it a pleasure to the eye. The terrace is an obvious choice as a vantage point and remember binoculars are a strict no-no as they drive away birds in India.

So, that's my list. You can get inspired and write your own list. I've tastefully added some links which are interesting and/or instructive. Please go through them and increase your reading pleasure...

A play

Right! I am going to tentatively head this play as "The great Indian dream"

I am publishing the play in its entirety as I had envisioned it. This is a rough draft and maybe changed innumerable times.

ACT 1/SCENE 1

[ An American grad school student driving towards a Harvard building. There is a huge gate. Sees somebody standing outside and calls for him]

American: Yo guard guy! Open the gate.

Indian seeming man at gate: (shows no response)

A: You bloody Indian. Open the gate.

I: Excuse me! Who are you calling a bloody Indian? Yes I am an Indian but that does not give you the right to insult me.

A: Of course it does.

I: Do you know why Indians come to the USA?

A: To get insulted? (Is very amused at his own wit)

I: No. Some of us were oppressing our peers for about 200 years. Now all of us are being oppressed by a group of people who claim to have been oppressed. So to escape this endless cycle of oppression, we go abroad and get an education, a job and a citizenship. Now one day Ill become your congressman and you'll say "Anything can happen in America". Then one day there will be an Indian American president and he'll say, "Anything can happen in America". Now this might happen ........

ACT 2/ Scene 1

The White House.

American 1: May I speak to Mr. James Sutherland (JS), the Undersecretary, World Affairs?

(Gets connected)

American 2: Speaking.

A1: The President has asked for a report on the world situation. A flight is waiting at the JFK for your disposal.

JS: Alright , I'll leave right away.

JS: (to himself) What world situation? America rules the world. Orders, orders...

ACT 2/SCENE 2

(At the airport)

JS: Let me check out the hangar. Ah! there's my flight, PARIS Airlines, the supposedly best fliers in the world.

(Goes inside the plane and meets the steward)

Steward: Good Morning. And what can I do for you sir?

JS: I am the Undersecretary, World Affairs, James Sutherland. I would like to look around.

St: Sure sir.

JS: (Looks at his questionnaire and thinks he'll start his report from the plane) Your name?

St: Happy sir!

JS: Happy? You do know English right? I asked your name. (SLOWLY)

St: Happy sir.

JS: Happy?

St: Yes sir. I was Sukhwinder Singh, which became Sukhi when I came here. Of course Sukhi is Happy in India, So I am now Happy.

JS: Ok. [looking at his questionnaire]. So this airline is based out of Paris?

H: No sir. France.

JS: But Paris is in France.

H: I don't know about that sir.

JS: But the airlines is named Paris Airlines.

H: It is actually Parsi Airlines. There was a spelling mistake, some American guy couldn't spell Parsi. Anyway the name stuck.

JS: Ooooook. Lets meet the captain.

H: A minute sir.

(JS has already reached the cockpit)

H: No no. Please wait.

JS: (enters the cockpit) So what is your name and how long have you been captain here?

Captain: How dare you come in here? Get out this instant.

JS: There must be some mistake..

Captain: What mistake? Teri Maaki..

JS: Did you just call me monkey? Are you abusing me racially??

C: No I said Maaki. That is probably the worst insult in Hindi and involved your mother and your entire ancestry.

JS: Oh. That's alright then. I am the U.S. World Affarirs, and your passenger James Sutherland.

JS: What's your original name?

C: Tata is my last name. My first name is Bahadur and my friends call me Courage.

JS: So how long have you been Captain?

C: 4 years and in these years we have literally flown to the top. Nice pun right?? Works all the time.

(Voice: Indians can't resist wordplay)

JS: Hmmm.. (looking around with a forced smile) What's that? Is that an incense stick? And a bead garland. And a bloody compass with a big red dot on it!! Where the hell are the instruments??

C: What instruments? In God we trust.

JS: How do people fly you? How are you even allowed to pilot this plane?

C: But sir! We are the best in the business...

ACT 3/SCENE 1

(Somewhere in Germany)

JS: Guten Tag Herr. Meinkamf

M: What?

JS: I said good day.

M: Oh. You are Mr. Sutherland, yes? Good Afternoon. Please call me David.

JS: Ah! Your English is impeccable.

M: You sound surprised. Oh! I forgot. You are American. Anyways, a drink? I am going to tune into the radio.

JS: No, thanks.

M: (tuning in)..

Radio: Good Afternoon and welcome to the Deutcheweller Radio and now the day's cooking tip: How to make your Chicken tikka spicier. This will be followed by the day's news...

M: Oh! We'll have to wait for the news.

JS: (surprised) DWR in English??

M: But of course. I thought you guys are well informed. It is the state language for God's sake.

JS: State language??

M: Yeah. Chancellor Angela headed the committee that changed the state language. English is the most widely spoken language you know.

JS: Angela...... Merkel??

M: Angela Kaur. Previously Parwinder Kaur, supposedly Pari means angel.

JS: Isn't Chinese the most spoken language?

M: Excuse me?

JS: Chinese.. from China..

M: Oh, you mean the Indo-China Block. The sex ratio was so skewed in China that they had to merge with India to survive.

JS: I think I'll have a drink. A whisky maybe.

M: And English of course took firm flight after the establishment of the British Raj in London.

JS: Make that whisky strong...

Act 4/Scene 1

[Back in the US, a pub]

JS: (to himself) They are everywhere. Russia, China, even Australia...

[The TV is running..]

TV voice1: And now for the post match review show of the superbowl.

TV voice2: Welcome to Sunny's Superbowl show. What a game! What..a...game!! Two seconds on the clock and Paul Peters scores a touch down for the Giants. The Giants win 21-18. He ran the entire length of the field and in the process set a new record....

JS: Atlast a truly American hero!! The world is not ending...

TV Voice2: Let us meet Paul's parents. How proud they must be of this incredible, beautiful moment of time. Here they are, Mark and Jothi Arokyaraj all the way from Americapuram in India. So how do you feel Mark.....

JS: This can't be happening....

TVvoice2: (After some time) So thats all folks, until next week this is Ravindranath "Sunny" Tagore signing off...

JS: I get it. Ravi means Sun.

JS: (to the bar tender) Excuse me. Can I have a coffee? Black? And a newspaper.

BT: Sure bob. Coffee's on the boil. Here's the paper.

JS: (Flipping through) Enough news.. (Looks over at the entertainment section) Headlines: "Tom Hanks" new movie releasing worldwide today.

JS: Wow! Now Tom Hanks, he is a star! (Turns to the bar tender) So what's this about a new Tom Hanks movie?

BT: Tom Hanks. So that's what they are calling him now?

JS: Calling who? (Turning back to the paper) Shiva "Tom Hanks" Kapoor has been nominated for an oscar in his role as Congressman Jindal in the movie of the same name. Now with his path breaking role as a racially abused Indian in his new movie "Attack of the Kangaroos" he has supposedly achieved new heights in acting, directing, music, singing, cinematography and even choreography....

JS: I need a walk.

(Walks through the Harvard park and sees a student busy at work. Looks over her shoulder and sees a thesis paper titled "Population Exportation")

JS: Shouldn't that be explosion?

St: No.

JS: Exploitation then?

St: Please stop wasting my time.

JS: Ok. So where is the exportation from? Who is being exported? No! Don't answer that! I can guess...

JS: (turning to the audience) By now you can guess...

Audience: India!

JS: No! America you fools...

ACT 4/SCENE 2

The White House

JS: I need to meet the President immediately.

(The oval office)

JS: Sir! Its code red. code red. We have a situation at hand. They are everywhere.

President: (With his chair turned) Who?

JS: The Indians. What do we do? Nuke 'em? Just give the order.

President: (Slowly turning) Forgotten something James? Is this a joke? You know you did vote me in as the first Indian American President of the U.S.A....

ACT5/SCENE1

[In the Harvard Library]

Doctor: He is in shock. No problem. Might have future repercussions though. Will have to give him a full check up.

JS: (slowly opening eyes) Where am I?

Female voice: You are in the Harvard library. I take it you are James Sutherland from the Yale Debating Society. You of course have come here to extend an invitation for a debate.

JS: I think so...

FV: Well, I am Parvati, I am the president of the Harvard Debating Society. The doctor was just telling me that you are suffering from manic shock and you might have repercussions. Doctor?

Doctor: Ah! yes. Of course dealing with manic shock is not very easy in America. We don't face the truth much often. But I do have a colleague, a specialist in India.......

[Curtains followed by Curtain call]

(It is of course clear that JS is the American and the President, the Indian from Act1)

Indians are not racists

After a really boring day at home the least one expects is to watch some decent programs on the tube. But all you get is Burkha Dutt. And not just any Burkha Dutt, this is the Burkha 'are Indians racist' Dutt. Booooring.

Well to settle this issue once and for all let me present a lucid and watertight argument on why Indians are not racist. Race is predominantly considered to be a cultural divide based on country of origin, color and other physical or external attributes. For further clarification you can refer this particular link: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/race.

Thus it can now be concluded with a certain degree of (for want of a word) certainty that we Indians belong to a single race. Since the whole talk is about discrimination based on race, it is impossible in India. There can be no racism between people belonging to the same race. So from this day onwards no one can call us racist.

But to give an interesting twist to the argument let me present to you the typical conversation in an Indian household looking for a groom:

Facing the computer, specifically a matrimony website, (where else but in India), are sitting two girls. They have just finished editing their profiles:

"Female, age 23 (oh! I am so old), height 5 4" (am I too tall?), weight 53 kg, complexion : fair, working with good salary, BA., M.B.A (Overqualified, never gonna get married). "

Some days later one girl gets a reply in her inbox. And she finds that she has as many as 16 applicants or should I say suitors. So she gets her friend home and they decide they will look over the profiles before they call her mom. Following are the reactions to the various suitors:

1. No, he is Tamilian. Nope! Tamilians are too talkative. They drink too. And I bet he is ugly.
2. Hell no! Not a golti (slang for Telugu people). They never bathe.
3. What a gujju!! ( gujarati) EWE the smell.
4.A mallu (malayali) never. All they do is smoke beedis and loll around..

The conversation goes on in a similar vein.. untill..

5. Look theres a photo in this profile. But it doesnt say where he is from, or what caste he belongs to. Who cares, He is FAIR. But we dont know if he is any good. Who cares he is FAIR. But, but.. Yeah I know he is FAIR.


So the real question that we must be asking ourselves is " Is Fair and Lovely the most successful branding and advertising exercise or is India the perfect ground for any fairness cream?"
Not 'Are Indians racist?' because we are not. You can call us casteist or colourist or regionist or linguist (sorry i don't know any other word for language based divides) but one thing we are not and thats racist.

P.S Generalizations are always misleading and incorrect so injured souls please forgive me. I am tamilian and I have found the above opinion of tamilians being drunkards and ugly on the inside useful in breaking a lot of bad dates and even worse fights.....

Typical Malayali phonetic spelling I guess..

Aha!!!

You know good service is so important... Ive heard of racial discrimination, sexual discriminaton, but age-wise discrimination???? This is too much..

ON TAKING A BUS RIDE

ON RUNNING AFTER ONES HAT
I love G.K.Chesterton. Not that I am an authority on him. Not that I have read all his works. I just love him for the one essay (the above), that gave me a reason, to not have a reason to laugh. Hope you are with me till now. I am sorry if I am scaring you. Because it is not my fault that it is difficult to express my feelings towards G.K.Chesterton. Well coming to the point, this particular essay essays the whole chapter on human emotions….


ON TAKING A BUS RIDE
Before you read on, (hope you do read on) there are a few things you ought to know and digest completely. One, I am an Indian, from TamilNadu to be specific. Two, the following essay is absolutely true. Three, if you are not from India whatever image of the Indian bus you have is completely wrong. Now having established these points I shall now proceed to explain the great Indian bus ride.

Well, it’s like this. I go every where by bus. Not that I am like this eco-friendly bus rider, I can not afford (as a humble student) to travel any other way.. I usually find somebody to take me through a moronic bus ride, but this particular evening was different. Different in that, I had to travel alone and it was anything but moronic.

So with trepidation I got into the bus. Getting into the bus was a process in itself, involving treading on toes, saying sorry every second (sorry, sorry…) and as the bus starts while you are doing this, it also involves hanging on for dear life. At last I was in the bus and thankfully I could get into it (meaning out of the foot board).

Since there was nobody around to keep me occupied, my heightened senses, heightened because of my near death experience, made me take in the whole atmosphere. It was a literal ocean of human bodies. I was bounded in on all sides by a rigid yet moving wall that talked, sneezed, shouted and occasionally even screamed. I do not know why, but at that moment, I felt an enormous compassion for the Indian citizen. You must be an extremely tolerant, polite and awfully nice person to be able to suffer through a bus ride. Ouch!! You nincompoop, nitwit, ******, cant you look where you are going?? Sorry where was I? Ah! Compassion! Well its hard to feel that particular emotion when its your foot under attack. But thankfully I was in Coimbatore and not in Chennai, where instead of the flat male sandal, a high heel might have attacked my poor feet. (In Chennai there is no separate entrance/exit for women).

I slowly got back into the groove of being compassionate. I even struck up a conversation with a fellow passenger to this effect, I said, “Why cant those guys get into the next bus? He replies, “What next bus? There is no such thing.” Suitably enlightened I turned the other way towards an argument on who should be in the cricket team. Every body had something to say on that issue. I put in my two pence. Suddenly there was a scuffle near the exit. A poor guy could not get off and had to miss his stop because of the crowd. He was not very happy....

The atmosphere was literally bristling and a fight could have ensued. Just then a loud mouth speaking on the phone saved the day. “De, I am in the damn bus. The show is only at 6.30 dude”. Some sort of ill tempered shouting at the other end by an equally loud mouthed friend and then, the life saver,” I am coming in the bus, not a flight.” And the whole bus broke out into laughter at this feeble joke. Anything to break the tension I guess.

Fortunately by the collusion of my stars I got down successfully. And then, I was rewarded for my ordeal with an image that I will not forget very soon.-A woman hanging on for dear life in the same bus. Equality of sexes or what?? Way to go India.

LOVE LIFE AND THE GOOD TIMES...... ( A short story)

First of all my name is Arun. You know like Arun Shourie........ well I really can't think of any other famous persons named Arun. But its quite common. Anyways, I am Arun, I study in this so and so college. I like to think that I am handsome in my own way, (whatever that means) and yes most importantly I am a teenager in love. Well we'll get to that when I am good and ready. First things first.....

I guess every body now has a cell phone.. So you must be knowing what a missed call is... You know when somebody calls you, you are just about to pick the phone when they cut it. Or they just ring once and cut to annoy you. Or you call somebody and they are just about to pick it up and you cut the call.... and it goes on.. Well my life till today has been one big missed call. I am the king of missed calls.. Not just the phone, life too.... Missed call in all its forms......

Like the other day I was supposed to go to this God awesome movie with my friend and he suddenly calls me up and says, “ De they only had two tickets and You know......” The drawl.. God how I hated the drawl.. Not that I felt left out.. only that why dint it happen to me. To be honest my friend was an ass. As a friend well he was ok.. But you know otherwise.. How did he get to be so... Popular?? Well that about sums up my life.

Then why am I still talking?? I know you'd feel that way.. Just listen.. You are welcome to put your stinky nose somewhere else of course.. But while you are at it what difference doest it make where you put it?? Get me??

So anyways coming back, I am in love. Her name is Shanti. Oh!! peace!! Gave me an all new meaning.

Now I could say that I am a peace loving guy and I wouldn't even be lying... She was so beautiful.. And the way she smiled at me.. God...Is there heaven on earth?? Oh! Yes there is.. I don't know why she smiled at me but I know that she had a soft spot for me.. You see I read body language amazingly well.. Like the other day I knew I had crossed the limit with the teacher and chose the exact right moment to duck and the duster hit my friend ( the same theater fellow, Ha ha..) And then there was the time when I knew that it was the right time to ask for a grant of absence from baldy (our princi) Or the time I ran away from Anup and Karan ( A fight was brewing, no prizes for guessing who was responsible).. Well the point is I can read people.. Or so I thought. I found out that these girls are almost like alien creatures and can never be read.. the HARD way... Read on..

Well there was Shanti and things went on so well according to my calculations that I thought that “Arun” was ready to take this to the next level.. So I called her up.. ring ring... no answer.. sweat.. palms wet.. eyes glaring.. anxiety attack.. panic.. panic button.. call cut!!! Twenty minutes later.., after I had stopped shaking..., being bathed in sweat I decided to take a bath. Suddenly the phone rings.. ring ring.. towel.. run... slip.. get up.. run.. ring ring.. stops. ONE MISSED CALL. Shanti. God... This happened a lot of times. She sometimes would just hang up after one ring. God.. I felt so happy.. Finally something happening between us... And then there were times when I would be waiting with “a rose, a tied tongue and a dumb look” and she would just smile and walk past me and I would miss the chance. Or I would leave a note and she would take the other seat, Or she would not take the bus she usually takes only that day... All this seemed like a message to me... ONE DAY SHE IS GONNA BE YOURS....

And finally that one day came. I was sure. My shirt was for once wrinkle-free. Her favourite colour-violet. (She smiled most often when I wore violet). A rose in my hand. My hair brushed. And my face shining with passionate love. A song on my lips and a shake to my hips.. Hey I was rhyming. What else could a guy ask for. A spring in my walk I was literally jumping my way to the park near the toy shop that she frequented. Lover's Dale.. How apt... I was smiling and God knows I must have looked like an ass, smirking without reason. I didn't even notice. A beggar was upon me. I gave him a fiver. I really was an ass. His lucky day I guess.... I was nearing the X. The spot. To be recorded in the annals of history. One of the greatest success stories.. This is where it all happened. Shanti was there. God how lovely she looked. Green suited her. I was floating. Was I in heaven??? Yes!!! said a voice. I neared her. She turned back. She was looking at me. THE SMILE. It was quizzical now. Like she was asking me “What took you so long??” I stood next to her...

“ Hello Shanti.”

“Smile”

“ I am Arun.”

“Smile”

“ I study in your class...”

“ Smile” It was starting to bug me for the first time.....

“ You know I sit behind you”

“Smirk”

“ Ahem.. You smile at me all the time.. You called me last night.. Around 6...”

She hit herself on the forehead..

“ Now I get it. You are that missed call Arun. Prajoy here had some real fun with you. Sorry about it eh..”

“ Prajoy??”.. voice constricted..

“ Sorry forgot to introduce you. Prajoy. Say hello to anna.”

A small boy. Some of the breath coming back.

“ By the way Arun why are you wearing that violet shirt. Looks really funny.”

Funny???

“ Oh!! Look at the time Vijay must be waiting. Got to go Arun. By the way that orange shirt is really funny too. And the time you fell off your bike.. Couldn't stop laughing for a week.”

“ Smile" , "Shanti I think..”

" Ya???"

" I think I love you..."

" What?"

Who was this new voice??

"What?" -This was Shanti. Tinkling laughter..

"You are a laugh riot Arun."

“Hey go to go. Come Praj.. Bye Arun. Or should I say missed call Arun...????” Tinkling laughter..

Vijay glaring ..... and my body language skills kicked in.. finally.. I got out in a hurry..

Tinkling laughter... Somebody should put a danger sign on it.. Or maybe an alarm signal...So painful to the ear... Hell is on earth too.. MISSED CALL ARUN.... So I was the provider of comic relief eh..?? So much for thinking orange is her second fav. Color... Hmmm.. Girls!!! God!!! And I thought she saw the wheelie... not the FALL after that!!!. Hmmm... But I have to say I had enjoyed the past few months.. The eternal high, The smiles so promising, The laughter so appealing, The butterfly effect,( I mean those in the stomach)... Life itself looked fresh and new and beautiful. I thanked her for that. The good times while they were were wonderful... Hmmmmm....

Sudden brilliance.. I look up.. "SMILE!!!!!"... Its Priya....... Can Cupid strike true this time?? Or is it gonna be another great big MISSED CALL??? One can only hope.....

Here's to LOVE, LIFE AND THE GOOD TIMES.....

hitler and humour...

All politicians are humorists. They cut a lot of jokes. Usually the jokes concern them, withemselves as the main protagonists. The jokes are in extremely good taste, contrary to what one would expect.. The jokes usually go something like this.. " I am your saviour", or " Your future is secure in my hands" or " I will abolish poverty in this country" or even a simple" Trust me." But the greatest thing is that politicians are not just humorists, they have a profound sense of humour and that infinitely rare capability of laughing at ones own jokes... It is sad though, that most people cannot appreciate these jokes. They never laugh. What is sadder that , some even go to the extent of believing these jokes. So while our politicians have laughing fits while giving speeches, people give them these sincere faces filled with pride and worse.. faith.... Of course these things are harmless.. Only when the politicians themselves start believing their jokes that things begin to look dangerous..Then a metamorphosis happens. Out goes the politician and incomes... you guessed right.. the dictator... Take Hitler, for instance. I believe that Hitler and i have a lot in common.. I,like him,am trapped in a monotonous and mundane proffesion (engineering) while not being able to let loose my creative genius. Hitler you might be knowing was an artist, but had to take up several mundane jobs for survival. But not achieving financial success in any of them he was not able to give his full to art.I personally think that he had a lot of promise and that his paintings were good if not great.Thus he became disillusioned with the world, went to jail, and there as a humour outlet was born the Mein Kampf, a joke book, to laugh at during hard times. One of his first and probably the funniest. But he found that no one was laughing and when he spoke, he saw the same faces that todays politicians see. Here is where he leaves my path. For instead of laughing and being happy, he foolishly believed those around him, meaning he started believing his own jokes.. So out went the humorist and incame the dictator.. So people, learn to laugh.. at your own jokes and others'. Of course, please dont believe them, for that is how a monster is born....