Ask Aprameya

Sometimes my readers (both imaginary and real but mostly imaginary) send across questions that they are desperately looking for an answer to. Their questions range across a wide array of topics from office problems, to personal issues, to Paris Hilton’s latest exploits. But since this blog post has been certified PG 13, I refuse to entertain any questions on Paris Hilton. So let’s get started with the other questions right away

Q: Hi, I frequently find myself in boring office meetings which I feel are as interesting as watching a Karan Johar movie in slow motion. So how do I get out of such meetings ?

A: As a productive member of the corporate world, this is a question that is of utmost importance to you. Every so often you would be forced to attend important corporate wide meetings where you find that you don’t really have a clue what they are talking about. Instead, you feel that this time can be more productively spent like, for example, reading this blog. Ok, here are a few simple tips to get out of boring meetings.
         1. Never be the first to leave. It does not pay to draw attention to yourself. You would not want the head of the organization asking who the person who walked out was, do you ?
         2. Don’t wait for the room to be half empty. If the meeting reaches a stage where there are more empty chairs than people, then you will find yourself in a situation where you will personally feel responsible for listening to the speaker till the very end. This is a point of no return. If you reach this place, then good luck.
         3. A lot of scientific studies (conducted by people who write blogs) have concluded that the safest time to walk out of a meeting is after the first 5 percent of the people leave.

Q. Thanks for the tip, yesterday was my wife’s birthday so I had to go home early. I successfully used your technique to get out of a boring meeting. But apparently, it turns out that my wife’s birthday was last week. Do you have any suggestions on how to remember dates ?

A: I have seen many a problem due to men being such insensitive louts. Sorry my friend, I am bad at remembering dates too. But I have an idea to fix this. My solution is that first you pick a date, make sure it is one that you can remember, something like Jan 1st (a day when you will be sufficiently drunk to try a stunt like this). Now insist that your wife’s birthday, or for that matter anything else that you tend to forget, is on this day. She may try to deny it. But don’t take no for an answer. Use all your tact to convince her that you are right.

“Happy new year dear and happy birthday too”
“My birthday is in June, you jackass”
“That’s what you believe but I think I know better, I insist that your birthday is on the 1st of Jan. And while I am at it, happy marriage anniversary dear”

Q: Everyday I read about some new disaster in the newspapers. There is so much tragedy everywhere. There is only destruction and mayhem and possibilities of war....

A: Do you have a question in sight ?

Q. Well, how do I make money out of it ?

A: You sick capitalist pig....welcome to the club and buy some oil stocks.

Q. This is the wife of the husband who took your suggestion on dates. Do you know how to fix a broken nose ?

A: That’s a very good question. But unfortunately I am completely out of time as I have a meeting to attend.

A twist in the tale

He was smitten by her the moment he laid his eyes on her. She was the most exquisite thing that he had ever seen. He was trying to get her attention but she would not look his way. Was she playing hard to get or was she really not interested in him ?, he conspicuously kept moving around her, hoping to catch her eye.

His efforts finally seemed to pay off as he saw her reciprocating his interest. She came over to where he was and thus started a relationship that he hoped would last for a lifetime.

The moments they spent together were pure bliss, he could not remember if he ever had been more happier than this and hoped she felt the same way. As time passed, the desire to start a family grew stronger in him and she acquiesced. And they brought forth to the world their wonderful little children. He was looking forward to both of them bringing up their little ones in the best way possible.

But alas, that was not to be. She had no intentions of wasting her time on bringing up her offsprings and so she vanished from his life without any warning. One moment she was there and the next moment she was gone. She had deserted him right after the conception and it was he who now had to deal with the complete responsibility of taking care of their kids. She had disappeared leaving behind a whole family and a broken heart.

Faced with the reality of being a single parent, he realized that this was life and this was the way it always was and will always be.

As he braced himself for a lonely struggle ahead, he could not help but think “Damn, it is tough being a male sea horse”

An year gone by

A year ago around this time, I made an indelible mark on the literary world, I spilled some coffee on a poetry book I had.

And in an unrelated incident, I started blogging as well.

So as I look back on the year that has gone by, I can proudly say that I have gone from being a ‘nobody’ to…well…‘Nobody’ (notice the capital ‘N’).

You being a reader of this blog are really special too. This blog is the literary equivalent of the ‘Giga Society’, the high IQ society which has the top 0.0000001% of the population. This translates to around 6 people which is approximately the number of readers that I have. So there!! You are part of a very elite and sophisticated set of people whose IQ levels are on par with Einstein’s (after he died).

I have to admit that blogging has allowed me to unleash my creativity which till now was limited to drawing on the dust on the windshield of my car, drawings that would remind you of the cave paintings by the Stone Age men. By the way, I assume men because, if you notice, the cave paintings were always on hunting. I imagine that the women were mostly yelling at their men asking them to get some real work done.

“Look honey, I drew a picture of me killing a woolly mammoth”
“So what ?, do you think ten thousand years hence anybody would give a damn !!. Why don’t you go out and hunt a squirrel instead”

But then I digress, the fact is these art works of mine were temporary since I invariably had to succumb to societal pressures and wash my car. So I decided to direct my creativity towards writing and thus began this blog which unlike my car does not need to be washed often.

I hope to continue blogging and bring to you deeply insightful views on the world around or totally useless nonsense, whichever is easier. And I also hope that as you continue to read these posts, the damage to your IQ will not be permanent.

Have a great year ahead you all…

A lovely day

Yet another bad hair day, I told myself this morning as I tried my best to press down an unruly mop of hair on my head that stuck out like a bunch of overgrown weeds on a neatly mowed lawn. The zit on my nose right between my eyes seemed to have gotten bigger overnight. Pushing thirty and still having problems with zits, that’s not really comforting. The traffic was a monster on my way to work and the weather was bad with overcast skies and a gloomy atmosphere. All in all, it looked like another terrible workday that I would have to pull myself through. The morning went by, dull and drab.

And then the clock struck three.

A bus load of kids came over to our office. Today was the day when we had arranged a fun event for underprivileged kids. We had gotten in touch with an NGO called Global Concerns India who sponsor the education of children of people with low income. We wanted to have the kids over at our office for an afternoon get together so that they can get a feel of the corporate world and hopefully be inspired to work towards a better education for themselves. But more importantly, we wanted them to have fun.

So over the next three hours, we had them eating their snacks and mingling with a lot of us, asking questions, singing, dancing and in general having a blast. We had organized a one hour magic show which was a big hit with not just the kids but also with the employees. After all, who does not like magic ?.

At the end, we gave each of them a small gift consisting a school bag and some stationery to help them in their studies. As the kids left the office premises, I could not help feeling a surreal sense of satisfaction on a day well spent.

The zit is still there and my hair still refuses to get back in place as I pack up to leave for home and I don’t care because today has been a lovely day.

Looking Within

The winds of religious rhetoric have begun to pick up speed again in the subcontinent. Be it the Taslima Nasreen witch hunt or the Gujarat pre-election campaigning where Modi is going all out with his Hindutva babble, religion is again in focus for all the wrong reasons.

I cannot help but wonder if our Gods up there are having a good laugh at all this insanity.

The Jews await their Messiah, the Christians the second coming, the Hindus anticipate their Kalki and the Muslims their twelfth Imam - Al Mahdi while the Buddhists await their Maitreya. Even the cargo cultists want their John Frum back.

And while the Gods confabulate on whose turn it is to descend into this mortal world, we can in the meantime go for each other’s jugular.

The idea of God’s descent on earth scares me. Not because it may happen soon but more because it may have already happened and it did not make a difference. We were too busy upholding religion to notice God. Or maybe just maybe the Gods may want us to sort out the mess we created before even contemplating on another visit down here.

One of the more mysterious verses in the Vedas is the verse “Tat Tvam Asi” (Thou Art That). This verse has been a source of many an epiphany for me.

What is ‘That’ and what does ‘I am That’ even mean ?. More I think about this, more I have come to believe that there is no ‘That’, ‘That’ can be anything we want it to be. And what we want it to be is what defines us.

If you want to see Peace around you, you be the peace, if you want to see Love, you be the Love and if you want to see War, you be the War.

There is a beautiful saying (some attribute it to the Talmud) “We don’t see things as they are but we see them as we are”.

I guess we all spend our lives trying to find our ‘That’ while it remains within us all the time. We have a choice to make, whether the ‘That’ we choose, builds hearts and minds or destroys life and destroys the spirit. Apocalypse and Nirvana both lie within, we just have to make the call.

The Gods may never come down. For they know they have bequeathed upon us the most powerful gift of them all, the power of choice.

And what we choose is what we will become……

We still have a long way to go

So what I suspected for a long time has finally been proved by Science that chimpanzees are smarter than you and me.

http://deccanherald.com/Content/Dec52007/foreign2007120539491.asp

For a keen observer of the human race, this should come as no surprise. I can think of a few reasons why

1. So how many world wars do you know that were started by chimps ?. We have two on our side and maybe if we try a little harder, we can muster enough dumbness for one more.

2. The last time I checked, the chimps still had no clue about religion.

3. All they do is eat, sleep, poop and make babies in between. We do the same too but squeeze in time for killing, polluting, abusing and discriminating just for kicks.

4. George W Bush

So can you think of any more reasons ?. And while you think, let me go get myself a banana

An affair to remember

One of my longest relationships came to an end this weekend. It was heartbreaking to say the least. But I had to do it, the holes on my t-shirt became so big that a freight train could pass through them. And it was with great difficulty that I brought myself to discard it.

I am sure all of you have one such wardrobe jewel that you simply cannot part with. This t-shirt was with me for 9 long years and has served in various capacities like sometimes doubling up as a towel to dry my hands with and sometimes to wipe the table when I got too lazy to find a table cloth and all this (and I am not proud of this) while being an active t-shirt on me (Oh, shut up and stop wincing, as if you never did it !!). But still, in spite of its multipurpose existence it barely showed any signs of aging at all except for some stubborn stains that came with all the wiping.

Going out into the neighbourhood with this piece of clothing on was a real test of bravery. I would catch people staring at me probably wondering if they should toss a coin towards me. But fashion gurus don’t get turned off by petty distractions because we fashion gurus are always on the lookout for new ways of publicly embarrassing ourselves…or as we call it….making new style statements. So I bear no ill feelings toward any of those people with a diminished sense of fashion but I do ask them that they at least have the decency to not point at me when laughing their guts out.

Anyway, over the past few months, the t-shirt finally started giving way. A tiny hole first made its appearance by strategically locating itself right in the midriff area. And then it brought its friends along, so all at once, there were so many of them that it was like they were having a college reunion. And every time I wore my tee, a few of them would come together to form a bigger hole, and before I knew it, it was ‘Holes Incorporated’.

When you have more hole than cloth, it is a clear indication that it’s time for you to say goodbye. So after a few moments of ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ talk with my tee, I threw it into the dumpster.

Wait a minute, I have a better idea. All I need to do is become immensely popular (because you will tell your friends about this blog who will then tell their friends) and then put my t-shirt for sale on E-bay. When a chewed up gum by Britney Spears can get big bucks, I am sure my tee can do well too.

Then again maybe not since Britney had a lot of other antics going for her that I not even dare try.

Traffic Jams

There is a lesser known story in the Bible

And God said "Moses, take the children of Israel to safety and you have two options to do that, either take them through Bangalore or attempt the impossible". Moses took one look at the streets of Bangalore and decided that impossible was better so he parted the red sea.
- Exodus 41

Every time I am stuck in a traffic jam, I fervently wish for the power that Moses had. I want to waive my hand and split the traffic in two and zip through the space in between.

Since that power eludes me, I do the next best thing……curse. It gives me great satisfaction shouting obscenities at the world around with the car window rolled up, knowing that they cannot hear me. I admit it does not clear the traffic jam but I am improving my vocabulary big time...and if you have a problem with that, I don't give a hoot, you pontificating ignoramus. See..!!

Traffic jams give me an opportunity to reflect on more meaningful questions of life like "Is this radio jockey as hot as she sounds ?".

I also get a kick out of seeing that the guy in the Mercedes Benz to my left is moving at the speed of a Manmohan Singh speech just like me and his multi cylinder, gazillion horsepower, freakishly expensive car is just as good as my little excuse of a car. But I am not sure why the guy on the bicycle next to me has a wry smile on his face as he looks at me.

Of course, there are other techniques of avoiding frustration during a traffic jam but all of them involve a bazooka mounted on the bonnet.

But remember that the best way to handle a traffic jam is to enjoy it. I do that most when I am looking at one standing from the balcony of my office.

Discovering the talent within

George Bush can now rest in peace for the weapons of mass destruction have finally been found.

And I cooked them.

Now if you can please rub that grin off your face, I can proceed to tell you that in spite of what it sounds like, I am not such a bad cook. Hmmm....on second thoughts, get the grin back on.

Ok, let me narrate why such a state came to pass. I decided to try my hand at cooking this weekend to satisfy my urge to cook something really delicious and also because the nearest restaurant was closed.

My main expertise in the area of cooking is the ability to boil water on the stove. Apparently, that is not good enough for cooking connoisseurs. No, they always want something that is tasty and subtle, they and their arbitrary standards. So I thought, this time along with boiling the water, I would add some lentils and some spices and other things that is technically referred to as ‘stuff’ into it to make ‘Rasam’. Rasam is a South Indian dish that when cooked well is absolutely delicious and goes perfectly with rice. And when cooked badly, it can be used to kill rats.

So with great enthusiasm and self delusion, I went about making ‘Rasam’. The lentils went in first, the spices next, then some salt and tamarind, some cumin, some oil and lots of stupidity. As the concoction boiled, I began to pat myself on a job well done.

Finally, when it was done, put it on my plate with some rice and gingerly placed the food in my mouth.

Ok, why don’t we take a short commercial break at this point? We will be right back…

(Insert favourite commercial here)

Now that you are back, I don’t really have to explain how it turned out. Do I ?

If cooking is an art form, then my cooking is modern art. It gets people to ask themselves complex philosophical questions like “Should I flush this down the toilet or simply hide it under the sofa when nobody is looking”.

But I had to eat. Did I mention the restaurant was closed ?. So I braved on, added some more ‘stuff’ to it to make it more edible and managed to gulp down the food. In the process I learnt that ‘As you cook, so shall you eat’ makes for a good proverb.

But the fact is I did manage to finish up what I cooked and I confess it actually did taste well as I strove along. I guess my cooking is an acquired taste akin to drinking espresso or drinking wine or......eating soap.

So if you want to try my cooking, you are always welcome to my home.

But you have to sit on the floor with the plate because I am not letting you go anywhere near the sofa

The dreaded 'F' word

I have had enough. A couple of weeks ago, a grandmother across the street beat me in walking up to the end of road. That did not bother me much, clearly grandma was on steroids. Following week, a school kid did that too, so ok it hurt a little. But then, a stray puppy out ran me on the streets and that, my dear readers, is simply unacceptable. My first impulse was to take my car out and drive real fast to show the puppy that I was still the boss. Later, after years of denial, it dawned on me that I had the fitness levels of a twig. So I went back to denial mode, it’s a lot more comfortable there. I recommend everybody to try it, it works !!.

But it did not last for long. The puppy kept acting all smug about its superior fitness and would not even wag its tail anymore when it saw me. So I resolved to do something about it, I mean my fitness not the wagging. We have a gym in the office, I decided to give it a shot.

I have always been scared of gyms. It’s because they have pictures of huge people like Arnold (spell his last name yourself), Sylvester Stallone and a whole bunch of other guys who are in their underwear striking weird poses apparently testing how much stress their underwear can take. I always feel they are all looking directly at me as if to say that me even being there is an insult to them. Thankfully, there are no such pictures in my office gym. So I took my chance.

The most important thing about going to the gym is to buy the right track suit. Hey, they have big mirrors in the gym and it is only fair that you look your best, so that you can catch your reflection while you try and pretend to work out.

The instructor told me to start slow as though I had a choice, I liked him right away.

So the first day, I got on the treadmill and ran, ok jogged…oh alright…walked for like 30 minutes. A treadmill is a great reflection on corporate life, the whole idea being that you need to keep running harder and harder to stay where you are. That’s my wisdom for the day to you, free of charge.

Here is another bit of wisdom, apparently the human body has these things called muscles. Muscles are walnut shaped (and sized in some) and help in thinking....no wait, that’s brains. Ok, whatever muscles are gym is supposed to help them stay active, looks like mine were mostly asleep. And boy, do they get nasty when woken up !!. I had a school teacher like that once who would sometimes sleep during the class and anybody who dared to wake her up would get walloped, she taught moral science.

Gym has a strange effect on the unprepared anatomy. After a bunch of workout sessions, you feel a distinct out of body experience. Each of my body part seemed to have declared independence from the rest. My brain kept telling my legs to move and instead my mouth would ask my brain to go to hell. My body was like the Indian parliament, total chaos and no work done. So the next few days, if you heard “Ow....ow....ow” in the corridor, that was me walking and sometimes you would hear “                ” of course, that was me not walking.

I admit it is getting better now after a week of narcissistic workouts. I am more confident about my fitness. The darned little puppy better watch out, I am gonna leave it far behind.

But I am not so sure of grandma though…