War of words

Sometimes, we friends get into a highly informative mail exchange that will leave us all a lot more knowledgeable than before. Here is one such exchange that took place a few days ago. I am posting it here for lack of anything better.

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From: G, D [mailto:*]
Sent: Tuesday, December 09, 2008 5:35 PM
To: S, V; A G A; slv@; P A
Subject: jumping gene

http://en.citizendium.org/wiki/Horizontal_gene_transfer_in_plants

Ive seen this happen in my garden, a green leaf plant was planted
close to brown leaf plant. after a few days the color of all leaves
was brown!!!

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From: A G A [mailto:*]

That could be because you forgot to water ur plants(rather all ur
plants) :) ...

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From: G, D [mailto:*]

http://waynesword.palomar.edu/transpos.htm

Nimmaji :D

[Poster’s Note: FYI, this is a very mild kannada cuss word]
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From: S, V [mailto:*]

This is very interesting. This explains why all you guys have become
much better looking over time since having been with me for so many
years now.

-V
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From: G, D [mailto:*]

No, that is because uve slowly been going blind vijji :P

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From: A G A [mailto:*]

and stupid :)

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From: S, V [mailto:*]

That's obvious, when I am surrounded by so many of them it is natural that I passed on my looks and you guys have passed on your stupidity.

And Deeps, if I am indeed turning blind that can only mean that you guys are still as ugly as hell then...

There really is no comeback line for my statement, so guys just give up alright, you are making it worse for yourself every time you try....

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From: G, D [mailto:*]

Ill loose one eye , if u will loose 2 eyes :P


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From: A G A [mailto:*]

Oh yah ... viji .... as you know not all genes jump, stupidity was inherent in you...

The price of patriotism

Why should anyone bother to be patriotic ?. If the word even means anything these days. I rarely write on a whim but this news item really got to me

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7771243.stm


We have our very own Valarie Plame episode here. Only this time, it is the brazen stupidity of the Calcutta police that was responsible.

A friend of mine who was scathingly critical of the intelligence failure that led to the Mumbai carnage seems almost justified in his cynical view of the intelligence capabilities of the Indian establishment. On my part, I continue to believe that there are dedicated and brave individuals working in the intelligence network which allows our agencies to keep a tab on activities against the state. The person whose identity has now been compromised is a good example of the actors in the intricate mesh that has been built by the agencies.

However, the Calcutta police (there is no reason to believe that such callousness is endemic to Calcutta police alone) for whatever reasons best known to them, my guess is, for a few seconds of cheap publicity, chose to blow apart the secret identity of an undercover operator.

Knowing the workings of the law enforcement of this country which does not have a witness or any other protection programs, there is little chance that this man can even hope to be protected by the establishment that he chose to serve. The terror groups have demonstrated how easy it is to get the better of our intelligence agencies. The poor man will probably be left to fend for himself and his family.

Not to mention the security personal who died in spite of having bullet-proof jackets on. Obviously, as it goes in India, somebody got richer by approving the purchase of sub standard gear since they would not be the ones to wear them. These low lives are as guilty of terrorism as the perpetrators. Such acts should be treated as treason and dealt with accordingly.

So why would anyone want to risk their lives in the name of the country when idiots abound waiting to sacrifice the last ounce of their integrity at the altar of ego, money, fame and one-upmanship.

Why would anyone not be satisfied with lighting candles, writing blogs or holding placards instead of actually putting their lives and the lives of their family members on the line for the notion of love for country and countrymen when the establishment could not care less about them.

Patriotism is turning out to be an act of sacrifice where the dedicated ones suffer in order to protect the scum of the society who do not give a hoot.

Is there an alternative or does it even matter…..

A post on blogging (aka this title sucks)

Ok, since I could not think of anything else, I might as well blog about..well..what I blog about. I see that my posts overwhelmingly lean towards humor. It's not that I don't attempt other areas but I prefer humor for a few reasons.

Firstly, a blog should and will invariably capture the personality of the blogger. Blogs reveal the domain of comfort of the author and for me that domain is humor. All of us have an opinion on everything and blogs are a way to express them but does the reader really care about what you feel about rising interest rates (unless you are the RBI governor blogging) or how you analyze core dumps on BSD unix ?. So I might as well keep it light and fun. If someone tells me that they blog only for themselves and don’t care if people read it or not, then I think they are just full of it. Those guys are better off writing a dairy. The very fact that someone chose to put something out on the internet shows an interest in having it read by somebody else. I only want to make sure that in case that somebody else bumps into this blog, they will stay here for a second longer before bouncing off. That’s not to say that I will not write about serious stuff. I have and will blog on other issues if I feel strongly about them. But more often than not I just let them be, which leads me to the second reason.

A blog post is typically under 600 words, any longer and it will be difficult to sustain the interest of the reader. I need to think of something that is interesting enough and short enough. Humor is one way to do it. And in the 'short stories' stuff, I usually go for something that has a shock value or fun value. One can achieve that in a short post. A serious story, on the hand, requires considerable situational setting and mood build up which would be difficult to fit into a blog post.

And lastly, blogging is therapeutic for me. Some people smoke, some drink, I blog. I know it’s probably a poor choice over the other two but hey, no fines on blogging in public and you can drive after you blog.

So there, I have managed to get one post in, this month. So long folk(s), I will be back when the next idea strikes me or when it’s time for therapy (that should be soon).

Till death do us part

“Ouch, there are the cramps again” Anju moaned as she sat down on the chair clutching her stomach.

Jai looked at her with a scowl on his face “Well, I have been telling you to go see our doctor but you never listen to me”

“It’s not a big deal really, must be acidity or something. You better finish shaving and get ready quickly. You are already running late for work”

“You have been having these cramps pretty frequently these days. Let me take an appointment with Dr.Vasudha for this evening” said Jai as he dabbed some cologne on his face.

He stepped out of the bathroom and stood still for a moment holding on to the wall for support.

“What is it, Jai ?”

“I don’t know but my head spins sometimes and I feel like I am about to throw up. It must be an attack of Vertigo”

“You have complained about this the past few days. You need to see a doctor as well” Anju said.

“I guess it is due to all the stress at work. It’s been hectic lately as I need to close this tender I am working on as quickly as possible. Hopefully, it should be over by this week” he answered as he picked up his laptop to leave for work.

“Alright, you take care ok ?. And try and come home soon” said Anju as she saw him to the door.

Jai got into his car and started for work. After a few minutes of driving, he stopped in front of a clinic. After having parked the car, he entered the clinic and walked into the doctor’s cabin.

“Hi Vasudha”

“Jai, what took you so long, I have been waiting for you !!” the lady in white, replied.

“Looks like it is working” said Jai “she has been having them more frequently over the last few days. How much longer will it take ?”

“Another couple more times and it should be done” said Vasudha

“I am bringing her to you this evening. Give her the same stuff you gave her last time. I just want to put an end to this as quickly as possible. I can’t stand being away from you for long.” Jai said.

“Don’t worry darling, we will have to wait for another week or so. After that, it’s just you and me” said Vasudha.

“By the way, what is the stuff that you have been giving her ?” enquired Jai

“Thallium” replied Vasudha

Back home, Anju put on a pair of gloves, went into the bathroom and came out with the bottle of after-shave lotion.

“Eight years in this hell hole being married to a control freak…” cursed Anju under her breath as she unscrewed the cap of the bottle.

“At least the bastard has insurance worth 50 lakhs” she continued cursing as she carefully poured some white powder into the cologne.

“A few weeks of this stuff should take care of him and it’s already been a week. A couple more and I shall be single, free and rich” Anju screwed the cap back on and replaced the bottle back on the shelf.

“Thanks to whoever discovered potassium cyanide” she told herself as she walked back to the living room.



[Epilogue: Well, what started out as an attempt to write a tale of romance ended up being a dark and slightly creepy story. See, I just can’t write romance. But then, this isn’t so bad either]

Kudos

Time for some good news and bad news - first the good news, ISRO scientists have made the nation proud with the successful launch of chandrayan. The bad news – they forgot to put Mamatha Bannerji onboard.

On inquiring with ISRO on this omission, the spokesperson’s response was “Not far enough”. Apparently, ISRO plans to start work on an even grander space shuttle and will make sure that Ms.Bannerji gets on it. The intended destination for the new shuttle is the Sun.

Until then let’s rejoice this milestone that India has achieved in the realm of space exploration.

Ps: I am currently suffering from a disease known as 'Writer's Block' and words refuse to flow out. I hope to get out of it soon. I may be a little irregular in my blogging for sometime to come. So all you people out there who don't read my blog, you can continue to not do so.

Spirit of science lives on

It is that time of the year when people with two or less brain cells are rewarded for their outstanding achievements in science, (‘outstanding’ that is, like a baboon’s bottom in a Miss Universe pageant.)

Yes, dear folks, the Ig Nobel prizes for the year 2008 have been announced.

Ig Nobel 2008

Check out the prize for work on cognitive science, a Japanese research team showed that slime moulds can find their way through mazes. This is something we Indians have known for a long time. The slime moulds found in India are way smarter than those in Japan. Leave aside mazes, the moulds here find their way right into parliament. Let’s see you top that, Japanese goo !!!

And now to the ground breaking work in Biology where a team showed that fleas on dogs jump higher than fleas on cats. After having completed this momentous task, the team has decided to spend the rest of the year scratching themselves.

The research that concerns me most is the one on Coco Cola. Two teams were awarded the Ig Nobel in Chemistry. One team found that Coco Cola was an effective spermicide while the other team showed just the opposite. I don’t even want to think about how they went about researching this but my bet is that they worked very closely with the team which was awarded the Economics prize. Anyway, I believe that as long as men stick to just drinking coke, they will be ok.

The physics award went to the research which showed that heaps of string and hair will tangle up in knots eventually. Personally though I feel it would have been a lot more useful if they tried to find out if heaps of string already in knots would eventually untangle themselves and if it works on tongues too (that would surely help me)

Of course, there are awards given away in other areas as well. But I dare not mention all of them here because you may find it hard to resist laughter.

And that could be dangerous if you are drinking coke...


[In case you missed my last year's Ig Nobel update, here it is -
Pushing the frontiers of science ]

Complimentary Insults

Everyone loves compliments and I am no exception. But there are some compliments that I believe are designed solely to make you feel good for the moment but are actually insults in disguise. And I seem to be getting more of these as time goes by.

“Hey, you look great today” said a colleague and I felt nice about it and thanked him.

But then I thought “Wait a minute, I look good today ?. As opposed to what ?, all these years when I looked like crap, huh ? !!!”. Now I don’t talk to that colleague anymore.

I really feel sorry for the ladies who get far more compliments than guys.

Remember, all compliments are always in comparison to your normal self. So if someone tells you “Hey, you look lovely in that dress”. It may sound nice but what it actually means is that you normally look hideous in all other outfits but somehow this particular dress makes you look lovely which is so surprising that I actually had to tell you about it.

This is when you slap the person who said that.

Infact, I think it is better to make a frank insult than a deceptive compliment. For example, a few days ago, I was showing a few photos from a last year’s trip to a couple of people at work. And one of them with all seriousness said “You look good in those photos, I can’t believe that you have changed so much in one year. What happened ?”

As surprised that I was by this unfiltered expression of opinion (‘truth’ would probably be a better word but I will stick to ‘opinion’, alright), I was still able to have a good laugh at it.

Thankfully, the uglier I seem to have got, the better my sense of humor seems to have become. Extrapolating it further, this means that the day people begin laughing uncontrollably at my blog posts is the day when I shall have to start walking around with a towel over face

The moral of the story is that compliments are far more insidious than what they seem. I would any day prefer an honest insult to a sinister compliment. It’s another matter that most of the times, I can’t even tell the difference.

So if you really want to make me feel good, just tell me something like “What’s wrong with you today, this post is so ordinary”. Now, that’s what I call a compliment.

But if somehow you actually think this post is funny, then I guess it is towel time for me...

The silver lining

“Oh, your hair is turning grey. I think you should get married now”

I am beginning to get this comment increasingly these days. I really don’t understand what the connection is!!. Ok, so I get married and my wife is somehow going to turn my hair black again ?. It’s as if women have these amazing remedies that they are going to tell you only after you marry them.

“Dear, now that I took the advice of people about my receding hairline and got married, tell me how to grow it all back ?”

“Sorry honey, I just know the secret to making your paunch vanish”

“Damn, I should have married your sister instead”

And do you know what’s worse than being single with graying hair ? - Being a single * Indian * with graying hair. Because in India, if you are single then it is a free pass for everyone to ask you about it without any hesitation. Marriage and money are the two most common questions that you have to deal with, the only criteria is that the other person must be older than you. I have been asked by total strangers on the bus about how much salary I make, whether I am married and why not. Unfortunately for me, none of these strangers were good looking, single or female.

The other big trouble is when you have to attend social events like your cousin’s wedding. Here everyone and their aunt (especially their aunt) would want to know when you are getting married. And this being the land of arranged marriages, each aunt knows this one girl who is ideal wife material (whatever that is). I usually tell them that I would not want to marry any girl who is willing to marry me (come on, that’s poor judgment right there and I am looking for someone smarter than that). But that does not deter the aunt one bit in her efforts to convince me and more often than not, I am on the look out for an escape route like the door, the fire escape, the kitchen sink...whatever. I just want to get away from there. These are some of the times when I desperately wish for a telemarketing call on my mobile.

“Hello Sir, this is Manjula calling from StanChart bank, would you be interested in our credit card ?”

“Thank you, thank you so much lady. Oh boy, Am I glad to hear your voice. You are a life saver. You are my guardian angel. I am so luc...”

“Umm...Sir, on second thoughts, I don’t think we want you to have our card and we won’t call you again” [click]

I wonder why I don’t get too many telemarketing calls these days. I suspect Manjula has probably told all her friends in other call centers about me. So that makes me the only person who has officially been blacklisted by all telemarketers. I can understand that but I do feel somewhat offended that even the male telemarketers have stopped calling and that is just plain mean on their part. After all, who knows I may need that credit card or that personal loan sometime, in case I do get married.

But until such time, I need a remedy....got dye, anyone ?

Click Click

For many years now, I have had a burning desire to discover my latent photography skills. Ok, maybe ‘burning’ is too strong a word; let’s say lukewarm tending towards hot. So I bought a digital SLR camera last week. My inspiration has been these fabulous shots of birds that I find on the net. I have always wanted to shoot pictures like those. Of course, being an avid bird watcher with a keen eye for spotting birds, it makes even more sense to buy one.

“Ah !!, that’s an adolescent Greater Coucal or...a crow. Darn it, that’s a cow”

Alright, my bird identification skills need a little more work. A few more days and I will be able to figure out the birds from the animals. But that is no way a reflection of my need for a camera. Like I said I finally bought one having saved enough money over the last several years and having promised the shopkeeper to do his dishes in lieu of the rest of the cost as the damn thing costs a fortune. And for that money, every bird photo I shoot bloody well look like a hot chick.

“Hey you said this was a picture of a scaly breasted munia but what I see here is Elizabeth Hurley”

“Yeah. Same thing”

On Sunday, I took the camera out for a little spin to see how it would do. For a guy who has only handled a 1984 model Yashica camera which had like three moving parts (that’s including the photographer), a DSLR can be a daunting experience. I spent the first ten minutes practicing taking the camera out of the bag and putting it back in. The next few hours were spent in pouring through the user manual. Having finally found the ‘click’ button, I decided to try some shots.

So standing in the balcony of my house, I kept shooting everything in sight – leaves, stray dogs, mud. Quickly, I realized that the secret to great photography involves three steps -Firstly, invest in a good camera which I did; secondly, know how to operate it which I had spent time on; finally, and this is the crucial part, find a good photographer.

Because, looking at the photos I clicked, I knew I could have used a cheap pencil and drawn them all better by hand instead. And I am terrible at drawing. Apparently, buying a DSLR camera does not automatically make you a great photographer. When I think about it, it does make sense – you know, just because you have a calendar, it does not mean that you are going to go out on dates.

That was a deep philosophical moment of introspection for me. But as in the case of all men, I refuse to learn from philosophical insights and shall continue to slog on with my camera (and keep buying calendars, for that matter) until I can finally take decent pictures. I shall work on it mornings through afternoons.

But not in the evenings because that’s when I need to do the dishes at the shopkeeper’s

Tips on humor writeups

[I had posted this last week but just realized that it is missing, I must have deleted it by accident. So here goes]

In this post, I shall put down my thoughts on how I go about writing humor. If it seems gratuitous, that’s because it is. I just could not think of anything else to write this week and hence I thought I might as well jot down a post on how I approach the ‘Laugh Out Loud’ posts that I write. Here are some of the rules that I have for myself

1. There is no such thing called ‘universal humor’ because humor is *always* context based and you cannot expect everybody to share the same context. So forget about trying to come up with a post that everyone will ‘get’.

2. Do not try to explain the context in detail. It kills the joke. Like I said, you cannot target everyone; people who get your sense of humor will keep coming back. At the same time, do not pick a context that is obscure and too specialized. For example, a pun that goes “Mary had a little lamb…for breakfast” would have a lot more people chuckling (except a few vegetarians maybe) than something like “Does Pavlov’s name ring a bell ?” which probably very few people would get.

3. Assume that your readers are at the same level of intelligence that you are – no more, no less. If you don’t have too many readers, then you are a gifted person...either way.

4. People ask me if the posts where I write about my experiences actually happened that way. Humor writing is to writing what caricature is to drawing. Is a caricature the exact representation of the person ?. No. If so, then is it false ?. No again. See, a caricature is an exaggeration of certain features that are slightly more prominent than the others. Humor writing is very much the same; you take a certain incident and then depict it with a different interpretation.

5. Humor is as much about the ability to get the person to ‘see’ what you are talking about, as it is about leaving enough to their imagination to complete the picture. Write such that it conjures up an image in the person’s mind. Then give just enough hints for the person to complete the situation in their mind. I use this technique the most.

6. Remember that the humor that you are attempting to put across should be something that made you laugh when you first thought about it. A forced attempt at humor is going to show easily. Some of my posts started off as a one liner in my head while driving.

7. Finally, the toughest aspect of humor write-ups is to come up with the right combination of words that will most effectively deliver the joke. This may seem trivial but I believe that certain word combinations can evoke a stronger response than others that mean exactly the same.

These are the rules that I work with. If you have any inputs on how you approach humor, do share them here.

Digressing a bit, it would be great to know who my readers are (other than a few who are forced to read my posts just because they happen to be my friends). Do drop a line to let me know if I am getting better or worse over time. Without feedback, it is difficult to judge if my posts have the intended effect.

And I am done with Olympics

The Olympic Games have ended. This post completes my blog trilogy on the Olympics which involved in-depth analysis and comprehensive coverage of the games which I followed diligently. Diligently, that is when ever I could find time to switch channels from cricket.

During one such channel flip, I caught some swimming action. There were these beautiful legs coming out of water and moving in perfect synchrony. Occasionally, the lovely ladies to whom the legs belonged would surface up and continue their synchronized swimming. It was such a delight to watch. I mean the legs; I don’t care much about synchronization, anyway.

This event got me thinking (here comes the in-depth analysis part), why don’t we have synchronized swimming for men ?. My guess is that the event would not really be popular. Think about it, a bunch of men sticking their hairy legs out of water. How many would pay to see that (apart from Karan Johar, that is) ?. Thankfully, men don’t insist being on parity with women here.

On the other hand, women would not want to be a part of some sports. For example, sumo wrestling for women isn’t all that popular. Not because men don’t want to see it but more so because the sport demands that women put on weight deliberately. And how many would want to do that !!. But the toughest act is for the husband of a sumo wrestler, he always has a minefield to dodge.

“Dear, do I look fat in this dress ?”

“Yeah...umm...No...umm...It does not matter...umm...I think I will just shoot myself instead”

The poor man is in for trouble no matter what. And you don’t want to piss off a sumo wrestling wife, do you ?. Good thing that sumo wrestling is not an Olympic sport.

Coming back to the Beijing Olympics, I must admit, China did put on a grand show. It would be a tough act for England to follow. I have a dream when one day India will host the Olympics. Of course, I also have dreams of being the most admired man in the world, going on a date with Charlize Theron and winning the Nobel Prize for blogging. The Olympics dream will have to get in line.

So the next blog post on sports will be four years from now. I would like to conclude this post with the Olympic motto “Citius Altius Fortius”

I could translate it but it’s all Latin to me…..

Swimming to glory

This being the only blog in the blogosphere that has officially been authorized to bring you the inside secrets of the Olympics (all the rest have been banned access by China), it is my responsibility to keep you abreast of all the sensation happening behind the scenes.

My investigative journalism has led me to this starling discovery.

Michael Phelps is the love child of a sailor and a mermaid !!!.

Well, how else do you account for his incredible accomplishment at swimming, huh ??

The bigger question though is how does a sailor, or for that matter anybody, mate with a mermaid ?. The logistical difficulties are overwhelming. But that topic is beyond the scope of this blog

Coming back to Phelps, if you think my theory is far fetched, do you have a better one ?. Yeah yeah, you will probably come out with some incredibly dumb explanation about his stamina, skill and training also known as blah, blah and blah. But tell me, how can you explain the fact that he has webbed feet ?. Now you are probably shouting “Those are swim fins that swimmers wear. It is standard gear, you moron”. Exactly my point. See, nobody has seen Phelps’s feet and under those flippers are the webbed feet that came from his mother’s side. That’s my theory and I am sticking to it and if you have a problem with that then get your own blog.

But apart from that, it is still unbelievable that this guy won eight individual gold medals while we a billion people in India could only come up with one gold so far. It is shameful, I tell you, absolutely shameful.

Michael Phelps ought to be ashamed of himself, amassing all that gold when there are people out there in other parts of the world who struggle to even spell goald (I am sure he wastes a lot of food too)

We cannot be complacent about our Olympic performance anymore. We need to win more medals next time around and I have a surefire plan for that – India should adopt Michael Phelps. Pay him what it takes to get him to be an Indian citizen. It will probably cost a huge amount of money but we can make up for it by selling all the gold that he wins. If money does not work, we could try threats

"Hey Mike, you better play for India next time or else...."

"Or else what ?, try your third degree methods ? they don't scare me"

"Or else you will be abducted and made to watch Reese Witherspoon movies over and over again”

"Ok ok, where do I sign up ?"

Well, that’s my plan and I am sure it will work I hope you agree that this is the best shot we have at more medals at the Olympics.

Otherwise, we better start searching for mermaids...

Let the games begin

The Olympics has begun.

Even as I type these words, there are people who are running as fast as they can, jumping high obstacles and using all their strength to overcome hurdles. But let us not worry about what goes on at the US - Mexican border.

Because, dear friends, the eyes of the world are on China where the best athletes are competing against one another to claim the ultimate prize – an Olympic Gold which China claims is lead free.

The origin of these games was in ancient Greece when one day all their email servers went down due to a power outage. History books refer to this period as the ‘Dark Age’. As result, one person was hired whose sole job was to run between two cities carrying messages. Sometimes he would run even when there were no messages to be sent, thus was born the marathon.

Meanwhile, all the men of the city would get together and play other games till the messenger returned. They called it the ‘Olympic Games’ as a tribute to the famous camera company - Olympus. The reason why it is held once every four years is because that’s how long it took for the messenger guy to run back to his city.

Did you know that the early Olympics was held only for men?. They did not even bother to dress themselves and just played in the nude. No wonder that Greek Gods are so popular with women even today. As entertaining as it was, this practice was stopped after the introduction of wrestling into Olympics, to ensure that no player got an unfair advantage over the other.

That’s about enough of history of the Olympics, today the number of games have significantly increased. There is participation from the world over. This time as it is being held in China and China being communist, their plan was that all the medals would be shared equally by all participants. But the plan was opposed by the US which wanted all medals for itself. As a compromise, it was decided that only the top three would be awarded medals in any sport.

India has not had much success in the Olympics except for a lone medal or two. This is because athletes from other countries resort to unfair means of play like better training and better government support.

However, for the first time in India’s Olympic history, we finally managed to bag a Gold in an individual sports event. The Indian government quickly denied any links to this unexpected event and has assured the nation that any help that the government may have provided was purely by chance and that such an oversight would not happen again.

As the games continue into the next week and many more medals are to be won, we the billion of us in India will hope that a few more medals come our way.

But let us remember to test them all for lead.

What's the big deal ?

The whole issue of the nuclear deal has created so much brouhaha that it is time for me to step in and explain to you ignorant masses what this is all about. And when,I am finished, you will want to use candles instead.

To understand the deal, we would need to first understand the basics of nuclear energy. For that, we will have start at the beginning since if we start at the end, this post would end here.

So here is how it all began

One fine day, God said “Let there be light”

Oh well, maybe we need not go back that far. Let’s fast forward a couple of billion years (or 6000 biblical years depending on your point of view) ahead to Enrico Fermi in his lab. Fermi had been pretty much whiling his time away doing nothing, so he got a memo from his boss which read

“All day long, you do nothing but just sit here
Hoping for an idea to strike, while drinking beer
But now, it’s time for you to get off your bottom
To do some physics and go split an atom”

Well, his boss did not exactly send a memo but I had to fit in that poem somewhere. So Fermi got busy trying to split an atom. His initial technique involved placing a little bit of uranium on the table and then using a big hammer. But three broken tables and a swollen thumb later, he realized that a hammer was not really the way to go. So after experimenting with scissors, knives and nail clippers, he finally hit upon the nuclear reactor. A nuclear reactor is a huge dome containing uranium. Instead of a hammer, we have a gigantic pestle that pounds the uranium till it splits and releases energy.

Now that you have the scientific know-how, it is easier to explain the controversy behind the nuclear deal. See, the Congress government wants to import the pestle from the United States, since it would take us several years to make our own. But the communists want us to use the sickle to split an atom. And they want it to be imported from China. A sickle is fine if you want to chop coconuts but for atoms, it just won’t fly (If you recall, Fermi did not even attempt a sickle. Nail clipper...yes, but not a sickle)

So our communist comrades decided to withdraw their support to the government which actually turned out pretty well for the Congress. Now they have been able to go forward with the deal.

Very soon, power cuts in Bangalore will be a thing of the past. That means I don’t have to worry about the power going off while I am writing a blog post.

Becaase typeng in tha dark may leed to spalling misstikes

Monsoon Showers

Monsoon, the season when thick clouds envelope the sky and the cool breeze bring much needed relief from the heat of summer, the rains quench the thirst of the parched earth, the trees sprout back to life with new greenery, the birds chirp away in search of a mate and the drains overflow, the mosquitoes breed like crazy and then there is a cholera outbreak.

Well, excuse me for being an unromantic killjoy but if you went through what I did last Sunday, you would want to migrate to Sahara too.

A new movie featuring another new kid on the block who has not yet wiped off the chocolate sticking on his face, throw in a few young cousins who somehow have gotten into their heads that the purpose of life is to watch this movie and learn all the lyrics by heart and then there is me, the big brother with a car. I had no option but to take them out to the evening show on Sunday.

The movie began, the movie ended. That’s enough about the movie. We came out and it was the lovely monsoon in full flow. As I was driving back, there was one stretch of road where there was pretty heavy water logging so traffic was being diverted to another street. It was 10.30 in the night and there was total chaos with almost no movement in traffic. I was behind this city bus and the bus guy decided to drive right through the water laden main road and I foolishly decided to follow (after all how much water could there be, right ?). The moment my car entered the water, I realized that I was screwed. Before I knew it, the car was almost three feet in water. The water almost reached the door handles and began seeping into the car through the rear doors.

The exact thoughts that went on in my brain (which, I am convinced now, is still under construction) were

“Shit, shiiiiit, craaap...$*##***...damn”

The car was struggling to move and there was a real danger of water entering into the engine through the exhaust. I remembered a tip that a friend had given me during a casual conversation several months ago – “Never let go of the throttle when driving through water”. I literally stood on the accelerator pedal, the car inched forward. The bus driver for some reason decided to stop, forcing me to stop as well

“(more expletives)”

But even with the clutch pressed down, I kept the accelerator in full throttle, praying desperately to God and Spiderman (my two favorite imaginary superheroes) that the engine does not switch off. All the while grunting, yelling, pressing into the pedal and pushing the steering wheel. One of them must have heard me, since the car slowly inched towards dry land. I finally made it to the other side !!

This was the scariest fifty meters that I have ever traveled. Of course, my cousins in the back seat were thrilled about the whole incident (their words - “Wow, what an adventure. It was such fun”)

They did not realize how easily the situation could have gotten real worse. And, the only thing that saw us through was the tip from a friend and the superhero who answered my prayers.

Thanks Spidey!!!

Too good to 'Refuse'

Every time I think about all the idiots who are in power, running the world, I am on the brink of becoming a cynic but then something happens that pulls me right back. And this time, it is the following news that gladdened my heart

Californians want to name their San Francisco sewage plant after George Bush.

I really hope, for San Francisco’s sake, that this renaming happens. I can already think of a new slogan for the city – “Welcome to San Francisco. Having dysentery here was never this fun”

Not to mention, the sentence “George Bush is so full of shit” will no longer be a metaphor. Maybe over time, the name will actually be used in popular phrases

“I broke my arm in an accident”

“Well, Bush happens”

In fact, this is something that needs to be followed everywhere, especially in our country. All politicians must be rated on their performance depending on which they would be eligible to get a landmark named after them. Landmarks could be airports, highways, local streets, footpaths and sewage plants.

I can think of a bunch of people here whose names would be perfect for sewage plants. But the problem is we have too many lousy politicians and too few sewage plants.

As a solution, we would need to include public toilets in the list as well. This will encourage people to use them just so they can vent their frustrations on their politicians. Imagine what you would not give, to be able to pee on your favorite politico. In the process, our cities would get much cleaner too.

Coming back to San Francisco, one does wonder if the residents there would be happy about using George’s name for a sewage plant or be offended that THEIR sewage plant was being named after Bush. But you have to accept that whoever thought of this idea has a pretty...hmm..."fertile" imagination.

My advice is that all of you in California should vote for this idea and when you win, go out and eat as much junk as possible.

After all, you need to be ready for the grand opening....

A warm weekend

This was a total bummer of a weekend. I stayed put at home the whole time, looks like age is catching up with me. How I miss those wild weekends during college when I would throw all caution to the wind and spend hours in the.....public library. Hmmm, now that I think about it, I guess I never was much of a people’s person. But that is material for another post.

Coming back to my weekend memoir, I caught up on a few movies that I have wanted to see for sometime now. Remember Al Gore (the guy who claimed that he invented the internet), I saw the documentary that he made called ‘An inconvenient truth’

Disappointingly it was not about Lewinsky and Clinton. It was about global warming. Like all men, the foremost thought that popped into my head was “Would this in anyway change the dressing habits of Rakhi Sawant ?”. Guys, unfortunately, the answer is ‘No’. Well, not without breaking the law. So that destroyed my hope of any silver lining that this cloud of global warming may have had.

The gist of the documentary was that the earth is getting warmer and warmer and Shilpa Shetty’s legs are not the cause for it. Apparently, it is caused by all the fossil fuel that we are burning up every day. Although that sounds pretty convincing, I believe the root cause of global warming is the Sun.

As a concerned global citizen, I could not let this happen to Earth, at least not until I get my room air conditioned. So after some intense brainstorming which lasted all of twenty two seconds, I came up with a pretty neat idea inspired by what Archimedes had said long ago - “Give me a place to stand and I will move the earth” (Apparently, he was trying to board a public bus).

Here is my idea, first we get a really long pole and push it all the way to Venus which we shall use as our support. And now we PUSH real hard, this should move us away from the sun a few thousand kilometers. Presto!! Problem solved.

But then again, this may not work. Firstly, because all that pushing would require a huge effort involving everyone on earth and I am busy till next Friday. Secondly, Archimedes is hardly a guy to be taken seriously. He ran out of his bathtub leaving his underwear behind, for crying out loud !!.

So looks like we would need to fall back on the traditional solutions that the movie talked about. Plant more trees, use car pooling and public transport, and walk as much as you can.

I do a little of the first two but the last one is what I do very regularly. It feels good to know that I am doing my part to fix the planet. I walk as much as I can.

Twenty minutes on the treadmill everyday should be good enough, don’t you think ?

Back in Bangalore

It feels great to be back after three weeks of being away. It was a wonderful feeling to step out of the plane after it landed in Bangalore. Well, not because I missed home or my people, the reason is a lot less appealing. Picture this; you are on an overnight flight for 18 hours which basically means you are stuck in a plane full of people who have not brushed their teeth for a whole day.

The person next to me seemed to be bent upon chatting with me. Come on, in a state like that, I would not even want to talk to Salma Hayek, anything else is fine but NO TALKING period. I did try giving him some subtle hints like pulling myself away from him every time he spoke or stuffing the pillow on my face and once I even offered him a chewing gum and a toilet brush...ha ha...of course, I am kidding, I did not really offer him the chewing gum. But the man refused to take any hints and merrily continued to talk and all I could do was time my breathing to synchronize with his pauses. I guess it could have been worse, it could have been a plane full of people with upset stomachs (hey think about it, three hundred people eating airplane food !!, with an arsenal like that, we can repulse any Martian attack on Earth). And unlike buses, you cannot even open a window and gasp for air, I would have given it a shot though

I am telling you, I was the happiest person on the plane when it landed.

However, the baggage handling at the new airport needs work. We had to wait for so long at the carousal to get our baggage that a few people actually had to shave twice by the time we got our bags (and one of them was a woman, yeah that’s how slow it was).

I did have the weekend to get up to date with the state of affairs here. The state government is still around which is good news...I think. India lost the cricket finals yesterday which means the boys are in fine touch as usual. And all the potholes on my street are still there (oh how I missed you all my little ones. I always say that potholes are like children, you can see them grow right before your eyes).

And Salma, I was only kidding. I would love to hear you talk, whatever be the time of day...just let me get a surgical mask….

Driving in the US of A

Oh what bliss !!, no potholes, no traffic jams, no blaring horns. I enjoy driving in the US.

Of course, there are both differences and similarities to the way we drive back home in India. For example, they drive on the right side of the road here. But that is where the similarity ends.

Now for the differences, firstly apart from the right side, we also drive on the left and every which way in between. Secondly, most cars here have auto transmission which in English means “we forgot to put that stick thingy inside”. So all you have to do is press the gas pedal (that’s the accelerator for the folks in India). If, like me, you are used to driving a stick shift, then you will feel completely clueless as to what to do with your left leg, it is simply there, not doing anything. I am so used to using both my feet that the first day I got into the car here; I had my right foot on the gas pedal and the left on the brakes. The first 60 seconds were terrifying. Well, not to me but to everybody else on the road.

At least, I have never had problems with driving on the right side of the road. Americans with their penchant for doing everything just the opposite of what the British did, thankfully left the gas and brake pedals in the same order. It is scary to imagine what would have happened if they had decided to swap the two.

Vroom...screech...screech...vrrooom......vrooooooo screeeee...BANG..

That was an Aussie, a Brit and an Indian at an American intersection.

Secondly, unlike Bangalore traffic where if you want to be someplace on time, your best shot would be to start walking (sometimes I start on Saturday to get to work on Monday), here the traffic actually moves and very often I get to go beyond 30kmph.

The only problem is I cannot look around and enjoy the sights and sounds of the surroundings. I have to keep my eye on the road all the time where as back home, that is everybody else’s problem.

So as lovely as driving here may be, I cannot wait to get back to my little stick shift and be amid the incorrigible mess of Bangalore traffic.

In the meantime, you better watch out because I think I have my foot on the wrong pedal again.

vrrrrooooommmmm.....

The agony of air travel

Jet lag is a wonderful thing. It gives you the perfect excuse to sleep at work.

“You slept through the meeting today”

“Sorry, jet lag”

“You said the same thing yesterday and the day before. When will you get over it ?”

“When will you stop having these meetings ?”


But to be honest, eighteen hours of flight travel is indeed taxing. Especially, when you travel on an airline that does not have a personal entertainment system instead they just have one monitor hung up in the aisle and play two crappy movies when everyone’s asleep. I am telling you, this airline is a glorified video coach bus. Not to mention the air hostesses, who I believe are retired hostel wardens, they have a perpetual scowl on their faces as if to say “You people in the economy class should be happy that you even have a seat”. Because, the economy class is the ghetto of the flying world where we are cooped up into tiny spaces and occasionally, an airhostess comes by to feed us with things that look like rejects from a construction site.

If you are wondering which airline this is, well, all I can say is “Ich kann nicht offen legen den Namen”

Having experienced this airline before, I was hoping that at least I will have interesting company which would make the travel seem less burdensome. And guess what !!, I was seated right in the middle row with two men to my right and one to my left. Who says God does not have a sense of humour ?

The second leg of my flight was marginally better, this plane did have individual monitors but the movie choices were just as bad as before. Not to mention, the row of seats across mine were occupied by grandparents with their twin grandchildren. The kids seemed to have gotten the idea that the louder they scream, the faster the plane would go. It was a marathon screaming affair, each one starting off when the other shut up. Try enduring that for eight hours and you will start wishing that you could listen to Himesh Reshammiya’s music instead....well almost.

Finally made it to Boston and have been battling bad food (and work) ever since. A couple more weeks and I will be back home. Hopefully, my return journey will be a lot more fun, hopefully the food will be a lot better and as long as I am hoping, may the seat next to mine be occupied by Sameera Reddy.

A brief history of cricket

A long time ago, an English man came up with a bright idea to scratch himself in public. He called it ‘Cricket’. And since it also involved a lot of spitting on the ball, it was natural that cricket became very popular in India where spitting is a national sport. We practice it everywhere, through bus windows, while walking, when talking about politicians and so on.

Over time cricket evolved into a fiercely competitive team sport. The players from the batting side would guard themselves behind heavy armory. Meanwhile, all the team members of the bowling side would get involved in the public display of affection towards the cricket ball. I dread to think of what may have happened if this habit had spread to other sports like say shot-put or worse....javelin throw.

Initially, cricket was restricted to what are called ‘test matches’ where a game could last many days and end without a result. Sometimes the players having played for what seemed like years would die of sheer exhaustion and had to be cremated even as the game went on. This is how the famed ‘Ashes’ series came into existence.

However, as it became more difficult to find replacement players during the game and also due to the rising cost of urns, a modified version of the game was needed. That was when somebody named Kerry Packer had a brilliant brainwave and invented colored clothing because he was finding it difficult to explain to his kids why the bowlers always had red marks around their crotch area. Incidentally, he also introduced one day cricket where the game got over in just a day.

This was an instant hit with the public since they could now buy smaller popcorn bags and could leave their bedding at home. But since these matches were played during the day, the heat during summer months became a major problem.

So yet another format change resulted in day-night matches. This helped popularize the sport among insomniacs as well. But there were frequent complaints by the teams regarding the inability to sight the ball during nights. After considerable discussions and brainstorming, the organizers realized that things worked better if they switched on the flood lights.

But cricket was still limited to very few countries. Even the one day version was considered too long to get other countries interested in it. There was something missing, something that could capture the imagination of millions worldwide and that something was...yeah, you guessed it right, skimpily clad cheerleaders !!!. Since it was quite tiring for the cheerleaders to be dancing the whole eight hours, cricket was reduced to three hours. The new version is called twenty-twenty where each side gets to play twenty overs each.

And we just finished a T20 tournament involving a whole lot of advertisements and product placements. Not to mention, the insane amounts of money each cricketer made.

And do you know who won ?. Well, neither do I. But I do know which soap to use, which toothpaste to buy, which bike to ride, which car to drive and which soda to drink...

Coming out of the closet

Looks like this is a week of bizarre news, here is another one.

Lady in the closet

For those of you who are too lazy to click on the link, here is a short summary

In Japan, in a town called Fukuoka, a woman has been arrested for sneaking into a man's house and living in his closet without him knowing. Apparently, she was doing that for a year. He finally figured it out using surveillance cameras after he began noticing that food went missing from his fridge.

At this moment, you are thinking “There is actually a town named Fukuoka !!!”.

I am sure this has caused a lot cultural misunderstandings.

“Hi, I am from Bangalore, where are you from ?”

“Fukuoka”

“Whoa !!, I was just trying to be nice. Fukuoka yourself, buster”

Coming back to the incident in question, I am kind of in awe of the woman who managed to get away without paying rent for a whole year. Sure, the living conditions were not exactly five star standards but remember it came with a fridge full of food and that is a huge money saver. If you think that’s not a big deal, you should try consuming the stuff in the fridge of a five star hotel room. That’s the fastest way of getting from a star hotel room to living in somebody else’s closet.

But one cannot help feeling sorry for the man. He was in a live-in relationship for a year and he did not even know it. So basically, he was clueless about the woman in the house. This is even worse than being...you know...married. Married men at least know that they are clueless.

If only the lady had been a little more discreet about how much she ate, she probably could have carried on for ever. Both of them could have gone on with their lives with really knowing each other. Again, the mark of many a married couple.

Anyway, her jig is up, she has been evicted from the home in question. So you better keep your closet door locked and your fridge empty.

Hey, where is the pack of chips that I had left on the table ?

Help ! we lost a plane

The new Bangalore International Airport has been in the news the whole of this week. There have been both praises and curses about the new airport. To be fair, it sure does take some time for things to fall in place and hopefully it will happen soon. Although, call me pedantic if you will, I think it is fairly reasonable to expect an airport to know where its planes are. I refer to this news item
Missing plane at BIAL

Apparently, a plane went missing and the passengers were left waiting for a few hours while the authorities went around looking for the plane.

This immediately raised a whole lot of questions in my mind

1. How, the hell, does one loose a plane ?
2. What if they had lost it while it was flying ?
3. Were there any single, hot women among the waiting passengers ?

So you think the last question is totally irrelevant and out of place. Puhleease !!, that is a relevant question for all times, places and situations. Sample this :

“Hey, I volunteered at the temple today”
- Were there any single, hot women there ?

“Hey, I had been to a funeral today”
- Were there any single, hot women there ?

“Hey, I just won the longest beard competition”
- Were there any....hmm....ok, may not be relevant in all situations.

Anyway, coming back to the case of the missing plane, I can understand if they had misplaced something smaller like, I don’t know, the ignition key (“Heck, I am sure I had it in my pocket, now we have got to push this damn thing. All passengers get down....NOW”)

But loosing an airplane ??. That is something that even I can’t pull off and I loose things all the time (you should see me searching for my towel in the mornings).

The news item does not say what the authorities did next. I assume they asked their floor cleaners to look out for a missing Boeing. They finally found it hiding in the attic and managed to lure it out by dangling a biscuit. Oh wait, that’s the story of my neighbour’s cat. The plane apparently was on the tarmac the whole time. The passengers were relieved that the plane was finally found and more importantly, the pilot had the ignition key in his pocket.

So the next time you go to the airport to board your plane, just watch out for missing planes and if you find a towel lying unclaimed, let me know...

English for dummies

I am appalled, I tell you, simply appalled at the degradation of the English language in the hands of these cell phone users and their penchant for messaging. I suspect if Shakespeare had used SMS English, then Hamlet would be saying “2 b r not 2 b dats da qstn”. So in this post, I intend to take on the tough questions on the usage of English so that we may all write, like…you know, better or whatever. So here goes…

Q. I always get, confused by: punctuation and use. them inappropriately ? I am especially, confused, by comma, Can you talk about, where they should appear,
Ans: Bad punctuation has been the; undoing ‘ of many, otherwise great, writers (one name immediately comes to mind). But to answer your specific question, the comma has a lot of potential to be used inappropriately, for example, let’s take a sentence “I love dancing with you around, this club stinks though” and now move the comma around “I love dancing, with you around this club stinks though”.

As you can clearly see, a misplaced comma can turn a person from being great to dance with, to someone who has not heard of soap.

Q. Ok, can you also talk about where a colon should appear ?
Ans: Unlike commas, that can appear in the middle of a sentence, a colon does not have positional liberty. A colon always appears at the end of your intestine.

Q. I have never been able to understand why English has silent alphabets in some words. Can you explain ?
Ans: For this we would have to turn to the traditional rivalry between the French and the British. In order to assert the sophistication of the French language, the French decided that what they write and how they pronounce it will have no relationship whatsoever. And so they coined words like au revoir (pronounced: “aaau rrr r”), croissant (pronounced “croaaa...I will have a burger instead, thank you”) and lingerie (pronounced: “Wow”). The British, not to be outdone, rose to the challenge and immediately added a ‘p’ to ‘pneumonia’. I agree that pneumonia is a lot less appealing than lingerie but I guess that’s the best that they could come up with. Well, that and the spice girls (pronounced: “Wow”).

Q. If I write “What the hell is your problem”, should I end it with a question mark since it is not exactly a question ?
Ans: The grammatically correct way to write it is “Eat mud, numskull.”

Q. Is Indian English good or bad for English ?
Ans: Indian English is India’s revenge against 300 years of British colonial rule. Our grammar may be atrocious but that and all we can manage. Some English people are simply simply telling that our English is bad because they are not understanding our accent. To such people, we are to be telling “pshut up”

So there folks, I hope you are much better off at English now than before. Remember, good writing begins with good English. Make sure ur grammar iz rite and ur speling iz corect, if u do dis, then u will bcom a gr8 riter.

A murder on the highway

[Preface: Since the past couple of weeks, I have been wondering if I could come up with a murder mystery with as few characters as possible and still create a doubt in the reader’s mind. So I took a shot at it. Do note that since I do not have the luxury to create an elaborate buildup of the storyline (this being a blog post), I have had to rely on conversations to build up the scenario. I don’t know if it has been worth the effort but here goes....]

Inspector Sharan Patel was at his desk just as the clock struck nine. He was a stickler for punctuality, though he seldom left when his work hours ended. He began reading the case file that was in front of him, for the umpteenth time. And today he hoped to bring about a closure to this case.

His reading was interrupted by a soft knock on the door and two men entered the room. Both of them were in their forties and dressed in formal business attire.

“Please come in gentlemen. Thank you both for agreeing to meet me today inspite of your business pressures. Do take your seats” Inspector Patel gestured towards the chairs.

“Well, we want to put this issue behind us as soon as possible Mr. Patel. It has been an agonizing week for us as you can understand” said the bespectacled man in the grey suit.

“Oh I understand completely Mr. Kalyan. It is tough losing your business associate of 18 years and then having to go through all this police investigation” said the inspector.

“Raghuram was not just a business partner, inspector. The three of us have been friends since college”. It was the other man who spoke.

“I know Mr. Mahadev and I shall try and keep this meeting as short as possible. But there are some loose ends in this case which I hope you both could help in tying up”

“So let me recount what we have on this case so far. Raghuram left his office at eleven in the night last Friday and drove alone to Shringeri. At around 7am in the morning as he approached the town, he stopped the car and got down. This was when he was fatally knocked down by an oncoming vehicle”

“He was a frequent visitor to the temple. He would go to Shringeri whenever he was disturbed” said Kalyan

“And what was the reason why he seemed disturbed ?” asked the inspector

“Oh, he had been having marital problems for quite some time now. Over the last one year or so, he has been pretty much cut off from work. But lately, since the past few months, he was terribly upset about something but he would not talk about it to any of us. His behavior became very erratic and we even lost out on a few big contracts because of his indifference to work. But what does that have to do with his accident, inspector ?” asked Kalyan

“You see, Mr. Kalyan, there are a few points that strike me as odd. For one, the place where Raghuram stopped his car is pretty much a straight stretch of road with a clear visibility of a few kilometers and it was early morning with enough sunlight. Secondly, the car itself has sustained minimal damage as the impact appears to have been directed towards Raghuram. Lastly, there were absolutely no screech marks to indicate the driver of the other vehicle even tried to avoid the accident. All this leads me to believe that this was not just another accident but a homicide”

“Oh, that’s unbelievable, Inspector. Raghu had no enemies. He was soft natured and never reprimanded anyone even when they did something wrong” Mahadev exclaimed.

“Exactly, that leaves me with only few options. Tell me, Mr. Kalyan, what are the terms of your partnership and what are the provisions in the eventuality of one of the partners dying ?” inspector Patel had a more serious tone as he spoke.

“This is preposterous inspector, are you suggesting that we had anything to do with his death ?” Kalyan rose from his seat

“That is what I intend to find out. Maybe one of you was involved, maybe both. Though I do hope neither of you had anything to do with this. I request you to calm down and take your seat. Now, if you could answer my question on the partnership, please ?”

Mahadev placed his hand on Kalyan trying to calm him down, as he answered “We are a small cap company, inspector. I and Kalyan, hold 20 percent each while Raghu held 25 percent of the shares. The rest is held by institutions and the public. In the event of any of the partners wanting out, then he would first have to offer his shares to the other partners and only when they declined, could he sell them in the open market. In the case of the demise of any one of us, the shares would automatically split between the remaining two and the family of the partner who died would be compensated according to the worth of the shares. This was to ensure that the controlling stake would remain within us”

“Has there been any contention about the ownership of the firm ?”

“None inspector” Mahadev replied.

“Well, maybe you are not aware of it Mr.Mahadev. I think Mr.Kalyan may have a different story. I spoke to your staff during my investigations and the janitor who works the night shift told me that you and Raghuram had a bitter altercation two months ago about Raghuram’s shares. The janitor says that he overheard you yelling at Raghuram that he better sell his stake to you, isn’t that so Mr.Kalyan ?” inspector Patel turned to Kalyan.

“Well, yes. Like I said, he had caused us to lose a few big contracts and I did not want that to continue. We were friends, yes. But I could not overlook his shortcomings which were costing us big money and so I offered to buy out his stake but he did not want to sell it. That was when I lost my cool and yelled at him. It is not like I yelled at him for the first time. As with any business partners, the three of us have had differences before. That does not mean that I had anything to do with his death” replied Kalyan.

“How come you never bothered to mention that to me ?. And why would you want to buy his stake without even letting me know” Mahadev seemed agitated.

“I was going to if he was willing to sell his stake but since he declined. I did not bring this to your notice as it did not matter” Kalyan continued looking towards inspector Patel as he responded.

Patel then turned to Mahadev
“Well, Mr. Kalyan mentioned about Raghuram having problems in married life, would you be able to throw some light on it Mr. Mahadev ?”

“Why do you suppose I would know anything about it? Raghu seldom talked about his personal problems with us”

“Oh come on Mr. Mahadev, you don’t think that you can hide it for long, do you ?. Ever since this case began, both of you have been under surveillance. I have gone through your phone records from the past six months and interestingly the most calls you made during this period is to the number that belongs to Mrs. Raghuram. Though, I am surprised that there were virtually no calls the last two months.”

“What is he talking about, Dev ?” a surprised Kalyan looked at Mahadev

“Absolute nonsense inspector, I did speak to Shyla often, she heads the HR department of our company and since the HR wing is in a different part of the town, I can only reach her by phone. Also, I knew her from our college days. That does not mean there was anything going on between us as you imply” Mahadev was trying hard to keep his anger in check.

“Now, now Mr.Mahadev, I would not be throwing accusations of this kind if I was not sure of it. Few months ago, you had taken a week off because of what you claimed as ill health. I find it interesting that Mrs. Raghuram had also decided to go for a training in Ahmadabad at around the same time. Infact, when I checked the company leave records over the past one year, I see that Mrs. Raghuram seemed to have trainings or health issues mostly during times you took a few days off. So don’t insult my intelligence any more. Or do you want me to get Shyla here as well ?”

Mahadev was visibly uncomfortable and began shifting in his seat.
“Ok, I admit we were seeing each other. It started as a harmless flirtation but over time we realized that we liked each other a lot. She decided to leave Raghu for me and over the past one year she tried her best to do so. She would frequently look for an excuse to pick a fight and throw tantrums. Raghu, like I mentioned, was soft natured and would bear all the humiliation that was hurled his way. But he began suspecting that Shyla was seeing someone else though he did not know it was me. So Shyla decided that we needed to take a break from each other. We stopped calling or seeing each other since. Finally, Shyla began demanding a divorce since the past two months but Raghu would not hear of it.”

“God !!, and so you thought the only way out was to get rid of Raghu for good…” exclaimed Kalyan

“Shut up, Kalyan. From what I can gather, you had an equally persuasive motive, did you not ?” Mahadev shot back.

“You think, I would have done such a thing for his shares ?. You idiot, he would have sold it to me sooner or later. If his wife went to court for a divorce, he would need all the money he had for the alimony. So I would have had to just wait”

“No one knew about Shyla demanding a divorce apart from me and Raghu. So how the hell would you be willing to wait out till it happened ?. You seem to know a little more than what you claim”

“Interesting, now we have both of you with strong enough motives to get rid of Raghuram. Can you both tell me what you were doing the weekend of the accident? Why don’t you go first Mr.Mahadev” inspector Patel interrupted

“I had to fly to Bombay over the weekend to meet a potential customer. Since I had a lot of work to complete before I left, I decided to take off to Bombay right after work and so had brought along my luggage as well. I took off by the 8pm flight, I was there for two days and returned on Monday morning at around 7 am”

“Is there anyone who could vouch for that ?” inquired Patel.

“Absolutely, you can check with our secretary who booked my tickets and reserved the hotel room as well. In fact, I had discussions with the customer in the lobby of the same hotel” replied Mahadev.

“What about you Mr.Kalyan, do you have an alibi as well ?” Patel turned to Kalyan.

“I worked through Friday night and the whole of Saturday as well. I had to complete some tenders which had to be submitted on Monday. By the time I went home on Saturday, it was close to midnight”

“Was there anyone else in the office that day who can verify your statements Mr.Kalyan ?”

“No, we have a five day week and no one turned up for work that Saturday. I did see housekeeping personal and the gardener working for a brief period in the morning. I doubt if they saw me”

“So you have thirty six hours of unaccounted time and thirty six hours is more than enough for someone to drive up to Shringeri and back.” Patel spoke softly with his eyes half closed. “And, you did want his stake in the company for yourself”

“By the way, Mr.Kalyan did any of your partners know that you were accumulating shares through the accounts of your wife and other family members, from the open market over the past few months and your stake is now twenty three percent ?” asked the inspector, his eyes still closed as slowly rocked back and forth on his chair.

“What !!” cried Mahadev who had a look of shock on his face.

“Oh yes, Mr.Dev, so with Raghuram’s stake of twenty five percent, Mr.Kalyan would have had the controlling stake in the company, well almost” the inspector said.

“And you had the nerve to accuse me of wanting to get rid of Raghu” Mahadev said, his voice rising with every word.

“That’s ridiculous inspector, the stake would have been mine only if he had sold it to me. Otherwise, it gets divided between me and Dev” countered Kalyan. He continued
“But it’s true that I wanted to acquire the controlling stake in the company. Raghu was ruining my company with his hare brained ideas with Dev supporting him without a second thought. I could not let it happen to the company I worked so hard for”. The bitterness in Kalyan’s voice was apparent. “But I swear by God, that I would not stoop to the level of killing him”

“Leave that to me Mr.Kalyan, I am paid for exactly that – to find out how low people can stoop” remarked Patel. He continued “So Mr.Dev, you said you left for Bombay right after work. So who had access to your car over the weekend ?”

“No one inspector, I took the keys with me. I wanted to hand it over to Kalyan but I forgot and the keys remained in my coat pocket”

“What about your car, Mr.Kalyan. Assuming you were at work the whole of Saturday, could someone have used your car in the meantime, did you lend it to anyone ?”

“No, I had the keys with me the whole time”

The inspector closed his eyes. He began nodding his head and a smile appeared on his face.

“Well, gentlemen, thank you both for your time. You have helped me tie up the loose ends in this case”

“So you are convinced that it was indeed an accident and we had nothing to do with it”. It was Kalyan who spoke.

“Oh no, quite the contrary, I knew it was a premeditated murder. But now I know who did it” replied the inspector, his eyes were still closed.

Both Kalyan and Mahadev looked at each other. And before either of them could speak, the inspector rose from his seat.

“So both of you had equally strong motives, one wanted Raghu’s wife and the other wanted his shares. Love and money, the two most common reasons for all murders and here we have both. But only one of you had the drive to go all the way”

He went around the table and stood behind the two men. He continued to speak

“Well, in this case, I think money came in second. Isn’t that so, Mr.Mahadev ?” Patel placed his right hand on Mahadev’s shoulder.

“I have had suspicions on both of you from the start. Kalyan here had both the motive and the opportunity. We have only his word for where he was on Saturday. You had the motive but you had an equally good alibi. I checked with the hotel at Bombay and they confirmed that a room was occupied by Mahadev for two days. The airlines too confirmed that Mahadev had indeed flown to and from Bombay on those dates. You seemed to have a solid alibi until you mentioned that you took the car keys with you. That was a big mistake Mr.Dev, you should not have revealed that”

Mahadev betrayed no emotions. He appeared calm and composed. Patel went on “You see one of the checks that I did was to obtain your credit card transactions of the entire month. And you know what struck me as odd Mr.Dev ?”. Mahadev remained silent. “I saw that you had filled up fuel for your car on Friday evening before you took off to Bombay. But, most interestingly, you filled up a full tank again on Monday morning when you returned from Bombay”

Inspector Patel paused to let the words sink in. He then resumed “You just claimed that the key was with you the whole time and so that rules out the possibility that somebody else had access to your car. And next time you send somebody to impersonate you, make sure they share your dietary preferences. I got hold of the bills from the hotel in Bombay and for a vegetarian, you sure did eat a lot of fish”

“There is no way you can prove that it was my car that was involved in the accident” countered Mahadev

“Well, we will leave that to the forensic department. I hope when you washed your car to get rid off all the blood, you used bleach and not just soap. Because, you see, a luminol test will reveal any bit of blood left over”

For the first time, Mahadev looked agitated. “If only he had agreed to divorce Shyla, this would have never happened. It’s all his fault” he snapped. Patel remained silent. He knew there was more to come. Mahadev continued “Ever since Shyla and I stopped meeting each other, it was simply unbearable for me. I had to do something to get rid of him, inspector. I hit upon this plan and was waiting for him to drive out alone somewhere. I had asked Shyla to inform me anytime he drove out of town.”

Patel interrupted “So Shyla was in this as well ?”

“Oh no, inspector, she thought I was asking her this so that we could meet up when he was out of town. She refused to do so since things were turning out bad between them and she said that we should keep away until she managed to get a divorce” Mahadev responded embarrassed, with his gaze firmly on the ground. He continued “But she missed me as much as I did. About six weeks ago, she emailed me that he was driving to Mysore. I had set up everything as planned. However, he fell sick the day before and so I had to abort my plans. Three weeks ago, Shyla mailed me that he was driving down to Mysore again but I could not get the tickets to Bombay on those dates. Then last week, on Wednesday, Shyla sent me another email informing me of Raghu driving to Shringeri on Friday night. This time there was no hitch and you know the rest”

As he finished, he covered his face with both his hands. It seemed as if the impact of what he had done was slowly sinking in on him.

“I would need to put together some paper work and will let you two work things out about your business affairs since Mahadev will probably need to go on leave for a long time” Inspector Patel walked out of the room leaving the two behind.

“Dev, as terrible as it may sound, I am not entirely surprised by what you did. I did know about you and Shyla for sometime now since I had access to email accounts of both of you and I also knew how desperate you both were, over the past few weeks” said Kalyan

Mahadev remained silent. His face still buried in his palms. He did not bother to look up.

“I am sorry for what happened. Let me know if you need any help from me.” Kalyan stood up and continued “I had asked him to go to Mysore a couple of times to meet a vendor there. Last week, since he was so disturbed, I suggested that he visit the temple. By the way, the inspector seems to have missed out another clause in our partnership agreement. Remember the one that says if anyone of us were to be indisposed for a period of more than a year, then he would be forced to sell his stake to the partners ?.”. He began walking towards the door.

As he neared the door, he turned around and spoke “Another thing Dev, it wasn’t Shyla who sent those mails. It was me. I knew you would take the bait sooner or later. The inspector was wrong, it was money that came first after all”

Mahadev raised his head and looked at Kalyan who seemed to have an enigmatic grin on his face as he turned around and walked out of the door. For a long time, Mahadev kept looking listlessly at the door.

The way of the wise

Intelligence is a God given gift that not everyone is endowed with. And since you folks actually read this blog, it naturally follows that you must be atheists.

This post is not about the merits (logical and irrefutable) or the demerits (you will burn in hell) of being an atheist because that’s a whole different topic. Instead, today I shall talk about what differentiates a less gifted person from the intelligent ones (also known as - everyone else but you) and more importantly how to cover it up.

Intelligence is not about how much you know but it is about how well you can pretend to know. The so called great minds of computer science like Dennis Ritchie, James Gosling, Richard Stallman and others have just about as much intelligence as you and me but they have made themselves look a lot smarter. Their secret is, yes, you guessed it right…facial hair. Apparently, one of the basic criteria of presenting yourself as a genius is by not shaving.

“This works out fine but what should women do?” I hear you say. Good point but same answer. Heh, heh, women readers, I am just kidding, alright. Women don’t need such gimmicks to project their brilliance.

(Phew!!….that was close)

The second factor is that you need to pretend to be really good at Mathematics. For example, here is a mathematical way of finding out the time when somebody asks you. This is a really obscure equation that will help you calculate the exact time of day. The equation is



Where ‘x’ is the latitude of the place you are in, ‘y’ is the longitude and 'theta' is the angle made by your shadow and the 90 degree vertical. You then deduce the time from this. I am sure mathematicians will crib that the equation is a meaningless pile of crap. But we don’t have to give a hoot. Mathematicians can go divide themselves by zero, for all we care.

Of course for the equation to work, you would need to quickly take a peek at your watch when the other person is not looking.

Finally, make sure that you can come up with complex scientific explanations to simple queries. The idea is to intimidate ordinary people into believing that you are supremely gifted and they have brains the size of walnuts.

Friend: “The weather looks cloudy today, isn't it unusual for this time of the year ?”

You: “Oh yes, the cumulus cloud formation is directly due to the influence of a low pressure closed chaotic system generated by the pacific warm currents. The el nino effect is also a factor, not to mention adiabatic effects of troposphere under varying temperatures”

Friend: “You have no freaking clue, do you ?”

You: “Get out”

By using these three devious ways of presentation, you can effectively convince anyone that you deserve the next Nobel prize.

So when do I get mine ?

An Ode to recession

“Oh master, I have traveled from afar,
All for a moment of audience with you
Life has been tough and I am losing hope
I seek your wisdom to help me through”

“What ails you, my son?” asked the master.
“Why do you despair so ?
I sense grief in your heart
And on your visage, it does show”

And thus lamented the devotee
“What used to cost one rupee now costs five
Inflation is at an all time high
Now I walk everywhere, I cannot afford to drive”

“The stock market swings like a mad monkey
Wiping out all profits and bringing only pain
And no matter when and what I invest in,
All my money goes down the drain”

“Buy your own house the banks said,
We shall give you all the money as a loan
The interest rates have hit the roof
And all I do now is groan”

“Oh wise one, help me find a way out
A way out of this intricate maze
What can I do to make my life better
To get over this horrible phase

Answered the master in a voice serene “Get rid of your credit cards,
Don’t fall for telemarketing calls
Don’t buy stuff you don’t need
And stop splurging in malls”

And at that moment, the devotee was enlightened
“I shall follow what you said, thus I hereby pledge”
He then asked the master
“Where from did you gain this knowledge ?”

Replied the master “I am no wise man, I am a victim of recession too
The long beard is because I don’t have money to shave
I could not meet my mortgage payments
And so I live in this cave”

Automobile Agony

Towards the end of last week, the unthinkable happened. Oh no, no, I am not talking about Rahul Dravid finally getting a hundred before the spectators died of old age. The issue was a lot less exciting than that. I was about to leave for work when my car refused to start. Nothing worked inspite of me trying over and over again. Well, being an experienced IT professional, I applied the standard troubleshooting techniques. I took a break and had a cup of coffee.

Surprisingly, that did nothing. Apparently, automobiles don’t work the same way as softwares do.

So, I let my natural instinct that has evolved over millions of years to take over. You see, we men are born with an innate ability of understanding complex mechanics of machinery. I opened the hood of the car and peered inside and it immediately struck me what the problem was !!

That I was a pristine idiot when it came to automobiles. It was clear that my instincts had not evolved enough. I was looking at this lump of metal pipes with the same expression on my face that I had when I saw my 10th grade maths question paper or for that matter, my 9th or 8th or 7th…well, you get the idea.

But thankfully, my lack of automobile knowledge (and maths) has been duly compensated by my skill to give up easily. This way, I don’t waste too much time in trying to do things I don’t have a clue about (here again is proof that my male instincts need more work). I closed the hood and called the service guy.

The mechanic said he could only make it on the weekend. So I had to manage the next two days without my car.

So I was forced to borrow my uncle’s car. This was kind of scary because his was a brand new car with no scratches yet and I did not want to be the one to scar it. I was extra careful when driving it and made sure that I never went beyond 50 km/h, giving a chance to all the drivers to yell at me and make rude gestures when they passed me by (I wish when they close their car door, they slam it on their fingers).

But the worst part of the whole thing was that there was no radio in the car which meant that, yep that’s right, * I * had to sing the whole time !!. And unlike a radio, I could not even switch stations to shut me up and ended up enduring my singing all through.

Two days passed by, it was Saturday and the mechanic came over. The problem was with the car battery which had conked out and had to be replaced.

So finally, I have my car back, it feels great to have the freedom to drive the way I want, to have the liberty to scratch or dent or bang up my car. I can speed up whenever I want to

But most importantly, I can now turn on the radio…

Don't curse your job, it could be worse

Ever woke up in the morning thinking “Damn, not another day doing the same old job"? Every one of us has felt at some point that what we do was the worst job in the world. That is a gross exaggeration unless...unless you are a specialist in curing piles and fistula. I saw this hoarding advertising a doctor who had expertise in this specific area of ailments, actually I have seen such hoardings many a time but this time it got me thinking since I was in an especially bad mood cursing my job.

How bad could my job be compared to his ?. Well, think about it...this guy starts off his morning looking at the business end of the human anatomy and that too, one which is not even keeping good health (Note that I have tastefully refrained from using the idiom ‘pink of health’). How much worse can it get from there !!! . His best day is when a patient just sits there and he can get to have a good look at the patient's face. An experienced doctor in this field would have learnt to recognize people not by their faces…if you catch my drift…

"Hi Doctor, It's good to see you after a long time, I was treated by you once"

"Oh, really ?...hmm...could you turn around please ?......Ah, Hello Mr. Das !!"


And there is not much these people can talk about when they get back home from work. When the wife asks "Hi honey, how was your day", what's he gonna say...??. Dinner time is especially a bad time for questions like these. I suspect a lot of these doctors are never overweight.

And don’t even get me started on pathology.

So the next time you start cursing about how bad your job is, you would do well to remember that you are probably much better off than a lot of others. But if you are a doctor feeling offended at this post, I should hasten to add that at least you are not a politician who, by the way, is always in the pink of his health…

If that does not satisfy you, I offer my apologies standing up...ok, now it’s time to sit down...ouch !!

Parody is always fun

Sherlock Holmes looked at Watson; he had that glow on his face that suggested that he had figured out the answer to Watson’s challenge. Watson had got married for the second time and he had placed a bunch of photographs in front of Holmes defying Holmes to identify the person he had married.

Holmes ruffled through the photos and finally picked one and handed it over to Watson.

“There you go, she is the one” he said

“My God, Holmes, that’s amazing !!…how did you even figure it out” Watson exclaimed.

“Elementary my dear Watson, when you have eliminated all possibilities then whatever remains, however ugly…..must be your wife”

Watson whacked Holmes with the nearest table stand.

“For a guy who is no Tom Cruise, you have the nerve to say what you did” Watson said angrily

“Who the hell is Tom Cruise ??. This is 1902. He won’t even be born for another sixty years. What are you talking about”

“Oops, my bad. But still, you have no business making derogatory comments about my wife when you yourself look like a cross between a lamp post and a fish hook”

Their fight was interrupted by Mrs. Hudson “Sir, there is a young lady who wishes to consult you immediately. She says it is a matter of grave concern”

“Please show her into the living room Mrs. Hudson but before you go, could you get Watson off my neck ?”

Watson relented and loosened his grip on Holmes.

“Well, I am sorry if I offended you John, but pray stay with me. I may require your assistance on this case. Let’s go see what the lady has to say”

Both of them walked into the living room to find an elegantly dressed young woman in the way that young women would dress in 1902, whatever that means. She seemed to be in her mid twenties and had a frightened look on her face. She rose to her feet on seeing the two men enter the room.

“Hello Mr. Holmes, my name is Victoria Brown. And since this blog writer has no clue about London or England, I can’t tell you where I live”

“Fair enough. I see you are in discomfort as you walk towards us. My powers of deduction tell me that you had a nasty sprain in your ankle possibly when playing a sport and I would guess tennis “ Holmes said confidently. He noticed the admiring look on Watson’s face, a look that he always enjoyed seeing.

“Well not really, I stepped on dog poop on the pavement on my way in.”

“Aha !!, precisely…the foul smell tells me it must be the damn poodle next door. ” said Holmes trying to save face.

“I believe that’s just you Holmes” Watson leaned forward and whispered softly “You really should change your socks more often you know”

“And maybe you should get a stronger mouthwash” Holmes snapped back.

He then turned to the young woman
“So what is that you wish to see me about Ms. Brown ?”

“Well, Mr. Holmes, I have this strange problem. I moved into my new house last week. And every few hours I hear this extremely shrill noise. I have tried to figure out what it is but haven’t been able to do so. I have never had a good night’s sleep since I moved in. I need your help Mr. Holmes”

“Most interesting. I would be glad to help” said Holmes as he began to contemplate on the mystery. After a few moments, he replied “I could donate a wad of cotton to stuff into your ears, Ms. Brown”

“I think she means that she would like you to investigate the source of the sound, Holmes” Watson said

“But of course. Tell me Ms. Brown, does this noise occur at the around the same hours everyday”

“Yes”

“And can you please describe the neighborhood”

“It is quite a busy neighborhood Mr. Holmes. There is a market right across the street, a library at one end and a church at the other and there is also a railway station a few blocks away”

“That’s it !!, mystery solved. What you have been hearing are train whistles Ms. Brown. It looks like you are amazingly dumb. And that will be 50 pounds, thank you”

After the woman had left, Watson turned to Holmes and said “This is the crappiest case that I have ever been a part of”

“Maybe but it takes care of this month’s rent. Well, anyway come on Watson, let’s go to the pub down the street. I will buy you beer”

“Thanks Holmes”

“Get the photograph of your wife as well. I will take another look after I am drunk. Hopefully, she will look better then” said Holmes.

Watson reached out to grab the golf stick lying in the corner. But Holmes was already out of the door….


[Post Script: Due apologies to Arthur Conan Doyle and to all Sherlock Holmes fans, I am one too. Hey, it’s Monday, cut me some slack here…..]

Managing Stress

Stress is a four letter word that makes your brain go all wonky like, for example, it hampers your ability to count the number of letters in a word. And in this modern world of constant pressure, stress can be a serious problem.

Being a well informed and extremely well read professional, I shall, in this post, counsel you on how to handle stress. By the way, did I mention that stress can also make one delusional ?

The simplest and the most effective stress buster is to pick up a hockey stick and go pummel the people who get on your nerves like the income tax guys, stock analysts and Navjot Singh Siddhu. But unfortunately, the law does not permit us this pleasure, although I suspect that it would make an exception on Siddhu.

So let’s turn to more traditional methods of stress management. There are a few simple rules to manage stress which I shall elaborate below

Rule 1: Share it

Stress, unlike money, is a lot more fun when you spread it around. Always look out for people who you can share your stress with. This will not bring down your stress levels but it ensures that others feel just as miserable as you do.

“Hey, the boss is mad at you for not finishing your module yesterday”
“What the !!, didn’t we have an agreement that you would complete my module since I covered for your absence in the afternoon the day before”
“ Oh yeah !!, now I remember…. Ooops”


Rule 2: Pick up a habit

It is a well proven fact that alcohol and cigarettes go a long way in reducing stress. Of course, people will tell you that drinking and smoking is also going to reduce the number of years of your life. Seriously, is this really an issue ?, think about it, the years that you are going to loose are the years from your old age. When you are 85 wearing an adult diaper and with no bladder control, do you think “Thank God, I did not smoke or drink otherwise I may have croaked at 60 and not have lived to see this wonderful day where I can wet myself and not remember it”.
Have I convinced you that beating stress now is better than living longer ?. So go ahead and pick up a few bad habits now and get rid of old age before it is too late.

Rule 3: Have a diversion

Rule number 2 is mostly useful at the end of the day. At other times, it may not always be appreciated. For example, when stressed out in the middle of the day during work, going out for a vodka shot is probably not a good idea. So have a quick-fix diversion activity something like, I don’t know…say…blogging. Be sure to vent out all your personal and professional frustrations in the blog and also be sure to use a pseudonym, just in case you vent out your frustrations against your friends (“Rascals, never bother to call me up”) or your colleagues (“I do all their work”) or your spouse (“Biggest mistake of my life”). Feels good, doesn’t it ??

So there, if you follow the rules above, I guarantee you that all your stress will be gone and you can go back to being the casual, carefree person you used to be.

Because now you will have no friends, no job and your spouse would have thrown you out.

The Art of Romance

She had seen him stealing glances at her for many days now. Those coy smiles that he would throw at her every time their eyes met sent her heart racing. And on Valentine’s, she finally walked up to him and said “Open out your heart to me, as you look into my eyes, tell me what you see”. He replied “Well, that’s a pretty bad case of conjunctivitis you have there”. So she stabbed him with her hairpin.

Ok, I give up. I suck at writing romantic stories.

To be honest, it would have turned out pretty well had the lady not developed an eye infection at such a critical juncture. But it does prove one thing, before you make your romantic move, just make sure you don’t suffer from these little irritations like, you know, cough, cold, upset stomach…well, you get the idea.

Seriously think about it, have you ever heard of a girl going up to a guy and telling him “WOW, I was simply swept off my feet by the way you blew your nose”. Not gonna happen.

And in the whole of Romeo and Juliet do you ever read about Juliet developing a cough..?

“Romeo my Romeo, (cough) (cough) where art thou ?”,
“Dear Juliet, cough some more, you sound like a songbird with a sore throat”

See ?, it is just not done.

That’s why there are no successful romantic stories involving people with infections.

If you are still not convinced, let me point you to the most definitive guide for all romances…movies. Movies capture all possible scenarios that make romance possible. The nurse falls in love with a soldier with two bullets in his chest in the middle of a war or the hero goes bonkers over our lady who is suffering from amnesia. But there is no movie where, say, a doctor falls in love with his patient suffering from diarrhea.

So the next time, someone tells you that after they met you they feel weak in the knees, they can’t sleep well and they don’t feel hungry anymore, just remember that it may not be love, you probably passed on your flu.

Anyway, the point I am trying to make is no matter how beautiful or handsome you are, don’t even think of making a move when the viruses are loose.

And when you do make one, wear your sun glasses just in case…