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Books – Gone in 60 seconds

This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force.
– Dorothy Parker (1893 – 1967)

The man who doesn’t read good books has no advantage over the man who can’t read them.
– Mark Twain (1835 – 1910)

My father always believed that books were man`s best friend. Perhaps that`s why over the years, I have been stealing ‘best friends` of many of my best friends and today own a library of my own.

Don`t give my photo on top of this page that look. That is, if you haven`t already spat on it yet.

Stealing books is not a crime. Have you ever heard of any body going to jail because he/she stole a book? It is only those who can`t keep a good book that go to jail (think account books, here).

From my kindergarten I have had a love for books.  I even remember once stealing my uncle`s PlayBoy. I was in class three back then. I know a PlayBoy is a magazine – but you can`t blame a kindergarten kid for not knowing that…or can you?

In school, my love for books reached a frenzy and I started stealing from the Library. By the time I was in class five, I was the literary World`s ‘Jack the Ripper’. I was so good at the art that my principal once asked me to steal the book titled My Experiments with Truth because his son`s class assignment was on Gandhi Ji.

When I reached college, I was getting free lance assignments from parents who couldn`t  buy their kids costly, limited edition books. I was their book man in shining amour….somebody like a Superman. Just that I didn`t wear a cape around my neck…and didn`t wear my undies over my trousers.

My fame spread far and wide and it was around this time that I got a call from the Research & Analysis Wing (RAW – the CIA equivalent in India). They wanted me to steal a book written by Sonia Gandhi titled: How to spot an intelligent Sardar. You probably wonder: “When was this book published?” I totally understand, for the book was never made available for mere mortals.

Over the years, I have matured to be an excellent book stealer. Market forces have helped me graduate from books to manuscripts to screenplays. Last time, Karan Johar approached me and said he knew a young, talented man who had written a great story called Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna. He wanted me to steal the screenplay and give it to him. I somehow messed up – I forgot to pick up the last five chapters (the climax). Don`t believe me? Try watching the movie with a straight face, after interval. 

Getting back to the library I have at home, drop in sometime to take a look. One request though – don`t borrow my new books. Didn`t one famous dude once say: “Most new books are forgotten, especially by people who borrow it!”

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Keyboards – inside out

To err is human, but to really foul things up requires a computer.
Farmers’ Almanac, 1978

Recently, an IT company conducted a survey to find out the reason behind thousands of dirty keyboards, it owned.

In short, they wanted to find out what was in between the keys of their keyboards. I am sorry I won`t be able to reveal the company`s name even if you give me a billion dollar project and make me the Project Manager.

Here is what they found between the keys (figures in percentages):

  • Fingers of the developers (9%)
  • Finger nails believed to have dropped off during phases of vigorous typing (14%)
  • Dead skin from developers` hands which is believed to have come off during active Control+C & Control+V sessions (15%)
  • Spectacles that the surveyors think could have fallen off during post-lunch sessions (12%)
  • ELTPs believed to have fallen victim during initial days (14%)
  • Hard working developers (17%)
  • Project Managers (19%)

PS: Leaves were found in between the keys of the Branch Managers.

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When it rains

Last night, it rained. This phenomenon doesn`t happen often in Chennai but when it does, it rains cats and dogs. In fact, today morning I spent half an hour removing cats and dogs from the clothes we had left outside for drying. During the exercise I also observed that wet clothes are a lot heavier. Perhaps that`s why rescuers find it difficult to lift people who drown in water and get their clothes wet.

Around 12 midnight, the sky had started thundering.

I once had an old, naughty grandpa who believed that the thundering sky was when God of Gods had a bad stomach. Immediately, we would ask him, “If that was what thunder was, what was lightening?”

He never gave us a satisfactory answer to this question, but I do remember him once winking at me and telling my younger sister: “That`s the whiteness of his potty you see when he opens his washroom door.”

As the thunder grew louder I could scarcely hear my neighbor snoring. I mean, I could still feel the apartment walls shivering…just that his snoring was inaudible. In the initial days of our marriage I wondered if it was my neighbor snoring or it was my wife. I didn`t have to wait long, for during one of my “I-am-a-crusader-of-truth” moments, I closed my wife`s mouth and nose for five minutes…and I could still hear the snoring. Finally, I had identified the culprit – it was my neighbor.

Getting back to the rain…after half an hour of rain…I decided to open the balcony and take a look. As soon as I opened the door, lightening stuck and there was brightness all over. At the spot where it stuck, it was all muddy (Thumbs Up advertisements were right!). I could see the muddy water because when lightening strikes it is like day light. Now, you know why lightening doesn`t strike at the same place twice – because there is no charge left after the first strike.

As I stood in the balcony enjoying the rain, my wife shouted at me and asked me to get some sleep. This is one of the disadvantages of staying in a small house…you are always within your wife`s reach. Sulking I got into the bed. Before marriage I enjoyed sleeping in a bed, but sharing it with somebody doesn`t appeal to me.

As I got into the bedsheets – yes, we have bedsheets at home, two of them – there was a loud thunder. Rekha immediately came closer and hugged me tight. I smiled, looked upwards (at the God with a bad stomach) and asked: “God, why doesn`t it rain often in Chennai?”
 

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What if we didn’t have ears?

In a series of “What If” articles, we had earlier discussed What if there were no women in the World and What if I were an egg….

In this article belonging to the “What if” family, we will discuss the possibilities of humans not having ears. If the question is “What if we didn`t have ears?” the answers will be –

As soon as we are born, we will avoid the frightening statement by the gynecologist: “Nurse, hand me the scissors. I need to cut this guy`s huge placenta.”

Once out in the World, we will also be able to avoid the coochee-cooing mothers and aunts. Not to mention, those innocent grunts most fathers let out on seeing the baby and which is followed by a stupid question: “Is it a boy or a girl?” I wouldn`t really have had an issue with that question, if my father hadn`t removed the small towel I was wrapped in to check for himself.

If we didn`t have ears, there would have been no Abhimanu. This son of Arjun heard half the art of chakravyuh while still in his mother`s womb and tried to change the course of Mahabharata. If he didn`t have ears, he would have been alive today. Well not exactly…for they say Mahabharata happened (y)ears ago. Pun intended.

We wouldn`t have to listen to our mothers looking into our notebooks and say: “A for Apple, B for Boy, C for Cat…” relentlessly. We wouldn`t have to say “Yes Miss” when the class teacher called our name. We would have nodded our head in acknowledgement or just raised our hand.

When the teacher censured us with “Shall I take you to Principal`s room?,” we could have stayed our ground, not getting frightened. We could have stood our ground even when the principal threatened us by saying: “Do you want to give me your TC?” We could have stayed on the field even after the physical education teacher said: “OK boys, the PT period is over!”

As seniors in the school we would have conducted silent cultural events. There would have been no helter-skelter for the mic, no speakers blaring in our ears if we sat in the first row, there would have been nobody to shout to…

Once big enough to attend interviews, we would have had silent interviews. Even those that can`t speak proper English would have made it to big companies like (Ear)nest & Young. In offices, there would be no meetings, no conference rooms, no telephones …nothing.

In stadiums, the fans wouldn`t clap when Agassi would hit winner. Perhaps, they would just raise their right hand and acknowledge the winning shot. There would have been no Referee Mills Lane to disqualify Mike Tyson for biting Evander Holyfield on both of his ears. BTW, did you know that after that boxing match Mike Tyson was given the “Sportsman of the Ear” award?

With ears, we all would have been happy and gay. Just that, we wouldn`t have heard rain water gushing, crackling of the ground nuts, clicking of an army man`s boots, clanging of the beer bottle, lub-dub of our loved one`s heart, energetic singing of Bhupen Hazarika, fizz of a sprite bottle opening, banging of the keyboard, tinkle of the message from your dear most friend arriving on Yahoo Messenger ….no nothing.

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Traveling – the things we will miss in future

When I went to Madurai, I went alone. It was quite an experience traveling alone after being married for two years.

Let us call this Jammy`s Law (like Bouyle`s Law) – “happy couples who prefer to travel together end up being unhappy”. There can be some exceptions to Jammy`s Law – for example, Rekha and I are happy in spite of traveling together for close to six years. But that`s beside the point.

During my travel I noticed how the transport industry is in for a major overhaul. When I say modes of travel …I mean…buses, trains, and aeroplanes.

Some of the busses we have now have washrooms and if left unattended (not the washrooms, stupid!) very soon all the busses might have them. We wouldn`t have to stop a bus in the middle of a jungle at 12 in the night if one old man has to piss. Or carry empty coke bottles for emergencies. Now you know why they say Coke has pesticides. Urea is what they mean; if only these activists get their chemistry right…all can live in harmony. Getting back on to busses, some of them even have train like compartments (those in Chennai would have seen them), which takes them a step closer to trains.

Train travel is being revolutionized by Laloo and his team of bureaucrats. They say very soon, in a railway station also you & your baggage will be checked if you sport a goatee. Somebody needs to alert Laloo and his team that ‘Goatee` is a French tradition.

If everything goes right for Laloo, very soon, you (and I) will be able to enter the railway station only if you have a ticket. What will happen to all those poets, writers and bloggers who visit the railway station for inspiration? What about all those beggers who eek a living at the station? What about all those pickpockets – how will they marry off their sisters? What about all those south Indian desperate men who like to see North Indian girls? How will they strategically position themselves near As1, As2, F1, F2 just before the Mumbai Express rolls in? More importantly, we will never have a quite laugh looking at the 20 family members at the platform, waving to a young man in a train.

They say we will make Train travel as good (and safe) as airplane travel. I wonder if the trains will also start taking the aerial route. Or maybe not. Wouldn`t the compartments fall off one by one?

The pity is, while they are trying to improve train travel – they are messing up big time with airplane travel. The Air Deccan toilets as good as a train`s. The Indian Airline peanuts are similar to the ones you get in a railway station. The magazines you take away from your airplane travel are not something you would cherish for years on end. More importantly, you won`t have an uncle who will always start off a story: “When I traveled by Indian Airlines in 1983….”

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Ouchmytoe listed in Chennaiist’s Top Ten

Chennaiist is a collaborative weblog which intends to share information about the Chennai city. They have come up with a Top Ten list of personal blogs which carry interesting titles.

It is very incidental that Ouchmytoe has been listed as the first Blog in the category. Wonder if it is on rank…for it definitely is not in alphabetical order.

Click here to visit Chennaiist

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Rekha’s birthday – the best ever

It helps to have a romantic husband.

Rekha had a ball of a time yesterday and she said: “This was my best birthday ever.”

This is exactly what she had said last time. Having set an expectation, I now have to beat myself on 5th July 2007. Tough task….but then I have one whole year to plan.

This time around, the surprise gifts began springing up at unexpected places a few days back itself and the climax was a dinner cooked and served by me – which happened last night.

Here are some pictures from the dinner celebration –

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Chennai Blogger’s Meet

Ascendas in Taramani, Chennai is a great place to hangout. For little kids that is. That is precisely what happened at the 769th Chennai Blogger`s meet which took off like a dud…oops…scud at 3 p.m. on June 24 at the IT Park.

After more than ten years I was spending time with college & school students. Gosh…the very definition of ‘attitude`, ‘fashion`, ‘girls` etc have changed since I left college. Especially girls. When we were students girls were not as talkative, and we always held the upper hand. OK fine, the prettiest girl in my class was called Upper Menon…and we always held the Upper hand.

Relevant Links
 

  • Write up & one-line profiles on The Dreamy Dryad
  • Blog Meet’s Concluding note on GAPP
  • 15 odd pics on GAPP
  • Pics with funny captions
  • The youngest in the Blog Meet were two girls who had just finished their 12th grade. Trusting my math to be good, I tried calculating and came to the conclusion that if after finishing my 12th grade, I had started afresh from the 1st grade…I would have completed my 12th grade (second time over) with the girls being mentioned.

    There were pretty girls, alright but unfortunately this father figure had also taken along the mother figure. You could blame my decision to bring along Rekha on the there-will-be-no-girls-this-time-too school of thought.

    The good thing to come out of the meet was getting Kiruba to spend. Legend has it (and this could be a flawed legend) that he has never spent money on men. Yesterday he paid for my mango juice – the first time in 43 years of his existence, that he had spent money on a man.

    The group really believed in the adage ‘Silence is Golden` for out of the three hours we spent there, we were silent for at least one hour. In an attempt to address this silence, somebody suggested that we list out our favorite blog urls. In what turned to out to be shocking surprise for everybody – http://ouchmytoe.rediffblogs.com seemed to be everybody`s favorite. Everybody swore by its humorous content and went ga ga over the owner of the blog (which incidentally happens to me me).

    As soon as we got into the car, Rekha said: “I know what you are thinking. The extra page views you are going to get?”

    I just gave her a sheepish smile, before trying to recall what my driving instructor had taught me…CBA… C for Clutch, B for Brake and A for accelerator.

    Some pictures –

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

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