Month: October 2004

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Kitchen – place to rule

I wonder why Alexander the Great was ready to risk thousands of his soldiers` lives (not to mention his own) and conquer the whole World. Or for that matter the Mongol King Genghis Khan.

What did they get out of their never-say-die pursuits that led to such mayhem? I would never know. But one thing is for sure I am an aspiring Alexander the Great. I might not want to conquer the whole World, but I would want to have a space in my house that I could call my own. So I am on a conquering binge.

I tried out the master bedroom, but Rekha is a regular visitor. After the initial setback, I opted for our second bedroom, but we have the iron board there and every morning she spends an hour and a half ironing her clothes. The pre-marriage offer included ironing my clothes, but that clause was conveniently forgotten after marriage.

The balcony is no different. Sixty-year-old men staring at me spoil quite evenings at the balcony. They even dress up before they come and stand before our balcony to catch a glimpse of Rekha. The number of oldies coming in has increased ever since actress Rekha was named MTV Maha Style Icon. I even have secret information that they have daily wagers on whom Rekha will wave at.

Now coming back to my pursuit, I tried the washrooms. Not quite hygienic but that has never been an issue. Once when I was enjoying the purity of silence, I heard her shout: “Rajan, you are anyways inside the loo, why don`t you clean the closet. Lizol is on the window sill!” That did it, and I decided that the washroom was not the place I wanted to rule.

I got my space by accident. Or should I say luck. I went to the kitchen to drink water and some how fell asleep. I did not wake up for two days and even Rekha was not able to spot me. An FIR was filed, and a Police search party found me sleeping between the two gas cylinders.

From then on, I have been the king of the Kitchen. Rekha never comes here….

Sourav Ganguly vs Adam Gilchrist

A conversation between Sourav Ganguly and Adam Gilchrist after the last day`s play in the 2nd Test (in Chennai) was washed out. I have to warn you that it is not at all imaginative…and is really stupid.

Index: SG: Sourav Ganguly; AG: Adam Gilchrist.

SG: We missed a golden chance to equal the series.

AG: Yeah, we too missed a golden chance to go up 2-0 in the series.

SG: No, you did not.

AG: Yes, we did.

SG: On second thoughts, maybe you did. Our batsmen were tired, Warne was hitting the bull and it was a crumbling pitch.

AG: Actually, I would say, you had a better chance. I mean …with 10 wickets in hand and only 210 runs to get. If that`s not easy, then what is?

SG: Am confused.

AG: Why?

SG: Was it good that it rained? Or was it bad?

AG: I don`t care as long as I get an extra day`s break. They did not cut 20 % from our salaries. What about you?

SG: No idea yet. In India, we go to the ATM only between the 30th to the 5th of next month and withdraw all the money.

AG: What is an ATM?

SG: Don`t you have them in Australia? In India we have these steel boxes on street corners, inside which one guy sits and gives you the amount you want…that is after we prove our identity with your ATM card.

AG: Wow mate. We don`t have anything like this. We have something that we call Bank Cash Machines.

SG: We don`t have them here.

AG: Maybe coz, you don`t have the technology yet.

SG: Maybe.

Tea, coffee or vodka?

Any day, I would prefer Vodka to tea or coffee. But since, they don`t allow liquor in my office, I take tea breaks.

Being content with tea doesn`t mean that I like it. No grudge against all those thousands of malayalee tea-walas who have single-handedly taken over the profession from the locals, but I don`t seem to like the beverage.

Talking of the Malayalee dominance in the tea industry takes my breath away. While Kerala contributes less than 1 per cent of the tea production in India, more than 90 per cent of the tea makers are Malayalees. Legend has it that when Neil Armstrong became the first man to land on the moon in 1969, a Malayalee, with familiar sounding words, “Chetta chaya”, thrust a cup of tea in his face.

Guess I am in the wrong country. Russia or Ukraine would have been a better bet for the vodka lover in me.

From my mother, to my sisters, to Rekha…everyone has tried to make the tea taste good. But somehow their efforts have failed to impress me. From milk, sugar, cardamom, cinnamon, red chilli, lemon, rum, blah, blah, blah…everything has been tried but every concoction lacked the killer punch.

Besides, there are all these fancy names which fail to register, leave alone make sense.
1) Ginger lemon tea
2) Lemon themed tea
3) Mint & lemon tea
4) Stash Moroccan mint green tea
5) French mint tea
6) Hibiscus mint tea

Now you know why I still prefer vodka to the home brewed stuff.

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Some number crunching

All of a sudden I realized I have been blogging for more than a year now. Guess, it was time for some stock taking. Just when I had given hope, I realized that Go Stats could provide me with the information. For those who do not know how many people visit their blogs..or from where they come, I suggest they take a looksie at the site.

As for my blogging progress…looks like I really turned the corner when my blog was showcased on the Hot Sizzling Blogs section of Rediff in May.

In the graph, the black worm depicts the Unique Visitors the blog as had and the white worm depicts the total pages viewed. Needless to say, the X-axis (horizontal) shows the time-line while the Y-axis (vertical) gives the numbers.

Also, the site has been re-designed. Please do give your feedback.

This table line-graph was done in Excel. And Excel can be learnt here.

The bedtime story

I am not the selfish type, but there are some things that a man cannot compromise with. His bed, for example.

I have been sleeping in my bed alone for the past 29 years, and all of a sudden a bunch of geriatrics (read elders) arrange (?!) for somebody to sleep with me for the next 40-50 years. At least, I am lucky I have known the person for 4 years now. Think about all those who meet their wives for the first time a few seconds before the knot is tied. Guess, once the knot is tied, their lives would be tied in knots.

Everyday, I wake up…I go “Gee…who is THIS?” And the next second I realize its my wife – the only lady in my life for the next 40-50 years. The thought itself is scary. She is the only lady I am ever going to kiss…ever going to touch. Of course, this holds true only if I stick to the guidelines laid out by our jealous forefathers and strictly followed by the girl I am left with.

If you thought finding somebody asleep on your bed was scary shit…you should wait till they get up. It seems I should not be sleeping after 6.30 a.m. The Gods would be upset, she says. For Gods sake, why should I be worried about what is good for Gods and what is not. I mean, shouldn`t I be worried about myself?

After I force myself out of the bed, this so-called-very-methodical-person folds the bed sheets and keeps them at the foot of the bed. Pathetic. Why would anybody want to mess with a nice, inviting, crumbled bed? Sans logic. But then, that`s marriage I guess.

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When the mobiles fell silent

The French, connoisseurs of art that they are, are planning on jamming mobile signals at entertainment joints where people come to see theatre, movies or for that matter hear orchestra.

Pretty good move by a country, where having beer at work is fine with everybody. Now, there would be no disturbance while the French entertain themselves.

According to the order, the jamming equipment needs to be installed in the premises by the owner of the joint. And he should ensure that the emergency calls reach the mobile owners. Now, how is he going to do it? Hire somebody who can keep an eye on the radio waves with an emergency tag, perhaps. Forgive me if its not radio waves…the only other waves I know is microwaves.

Of course, the French will miss statements like “I-can`t-hear-you-I-am-in-a-theatre,” “Can-I-call-you-back-I-am-in-a-meeting,” or for that matter the one that takes the cake – “I-am-busy-right-now-can-I-call-you-in-an hour?”

If you spare a thought for all those obnoxious, self-centered people like me, who always want to hog the limelight, you would realize it wouldn`t be easy on us. Even since I bought a mobile ten years back, I have learnt to use it to further my gains….to promote myself. Eg. If the I guy I was speaking to on my mobile asked, “Dai, coming for a smoke?” I would say: “No man. You guys go ahead. Here I have another meeting to attend to. Will join you guys when I am free.”

On second thoughts, why am I even worried about something that is about to happen in France? Beer in workplaces is accepted there…and the practice is yet to reach India even after 100 years. You think the mobile jamming bit is bigger than that?

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What is in a name – a lot

Growing up in India can be difficult. Especially, if your name was Jamshed Velayuda Rajan Ramaswamy. I have endured my name for long…but now I am wondering if I should change it to…Robin Wood…or maybe William Won`t Tell…or perhaps Shake The Sphere. Don`t blame me for the name change. I myself shudder to think of the logistics of it. But enough is enough.

Legend has it that patriotic reasons helped me land this name. How much I wish I were awake during the naming ceremony; I would have never let my father run away with all the credit.

‘Jamshed` was the Parsee and Muslim part, ‘Velayuda`, the Hindu element and ‘Rajan` the Christian fraction. For the record Velayuda means Lord Murugan in Tamil and Rajan is a popular Christian name among Malayalees. Or so my parents thought.

Few critics in the family believe that my father could have been led by Jamshedji Ratanji Tata`s success in deciding my name. Wonder if my father had such high expectations from me.

In case you haven`t guessed, I was born in Jamshedpur, Bihar. Now you know where I get my monkey tail from – from the land of Laloo!

Over a period of time, I would shed parts of my name. Firstly, I dropped my surname- Ramaswamy. With no time, I became JV Rajan.

This was a phase when my stupid friends started calling me TV Rajan. Don`t know if it had to do with that experiment of mine…where in an attempt to create a mega magnifying glass, I would drill a hole in our TV`s picture tube and fill it with water.

My motivation, you might ask…but only days earlier I had broken off the aluminum part of a 100 watts round bulb and filled it with water to convert it into a sort of magnifying glass. Not content with smaller achievements, I would move on to the picture tube of our huge EC TV. For the record the TV was so huge that whenever my mother scolded me, I would get in with food supplies for 2-3 days and escape the World. That was the first time when my mother saw me on TV. For a moment she even thought I was a celebrity.

(More on this TV thing later).

But today, I have dropped all the three parts of my legendary name. And the World addresses me as Jammy.

*I have always referred to my height in centimeters because 165 cms definitely sounds taller and better than 5 feet 3 inches (or is it 4 inches?).

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Don’t watch Lion King if you are married

I did and I am repenting. I watched the movie a few days back and thought the concept of Hakuna Matata was cool and worth implementing. But it was not to be.

Hakuna Matata means “Be Happy, no worries.” Something the groovy Bob Marley has already told us in his still groovier song “Don`t Worry, Be Happy.”

If I had embraced the concept when I was a bachelor, it would have meant shopping with my credit card at 50% off committee halls, having lunch at spicy, oily restaurants and coming home for a beer in the evening. Which would be followed by a hilarious English movie, before I pissed off my beer, had some noodles for dinner and went to sleep.

Now, things have really changed. It did not take Rekha (my wife of 39 days) a long time to realize that I had embraced hakuna matata – some kind of new-world Buddhism that the Disney World has been preaching.

Now, I was happy and gay. Less of gay, to tell you the truth. I was plying my own trains between the kitchen and the drawing room and was my own orchestra while bathing. So much so, at b`fast, I was treating myself to five-star service.

Rekha knew her moment had come and placed these requirements –

1) I make tea on all week-ends
2) I take out the garbage every night
3) I take up the responsibility for the plumber, electrician and any such contact with the outside alien world.
4) Wash the clothes every alternate day (Sorry…am not telling whose clothes…)
5) Take her out to buy vegetables every Sunday morning.
6) Get chicken every holiday (except the World Vegetarian Day, which falls on Jan 19 – the day World`s biggest slaughterhouse Iraq was attacked by George Bush. No, I am just kidding. ).
7) Whenever the electricity goes, I am the one who should change the phase.

If only I had not watched the kiddy movie and spoiled my angry-young-man image…Rekha would today still be scared of me. And I would have been the Lion King!