unCommon Cold

For those of you who have gotten to know me only in the last 2 years, let me tell you that I don't have a permanent nasal tone to my speech. I have been suffering from a cold for last 2 years. I am not kidding...this is true!. Some might contest that I always had a nasal tone and it has only been amplified in the last 2 years. I tend to ignore them and so should you.

I am still not sure when this cold originated. Researchers are still trying to experiment on me and my blood, urine, spit,and semen to find the exact birth date of this strain of uncommon cold. Some sources, mostly me, date it back to Nov 2006. Back then, like any other normal cold, I chose to ignore it, but it only got worse. Sometime in Dec 2006, I had to miss 2 days of work and stay home. My cold was characterized by really loud sneezing and running nose. A few preventive, over the counter, medicines cured this symptomatically. I celebrated this quick fix by driving to the Cold Sierra Nevada mountains during X-Mas and drinking crazy in Arizona over the New Year. Both these activities ensured a cold reception of 2007.

Blaming my cheap Plan B medical coverage at work, I chose not to go to a doctor. But this cold persisted well into Feb 2007. By this time I had tried at least 4 out of the 1000 different cold remedies made is US. When I finally visited India in Feb 2007, I decided to visit a doctor as it costed me only $1 to visit her and 50 cents to get prescription medicine. Screw you Plan B!!. The doctor told me that I might have a deviated septum and I should start doing Pranayanama. Convinced that this doctor was some kind of a charlatan, I chose to ignore her yogic suggestion.

However, the cold persisted and so did the sneezing. I learnt to live with about 25 sneezes a day. On days when this number would shoot up, I would get worried. But the cold had its highs and lows, and after missing another day of work in summer of 2007, I decided to terminate my friendship with this cold and visit a doctor in US. I got an expensive prescription drug and some nasal sprays. Despite burning a big hole in my wallet, the cure seemed symptomatic. A few days later the cold was back. Since then, I have tried the remaining 996 cold remedies in the country, but to no avail. Every time I break up with cold, a few days later we make up. And we make up with even louder sneezes. Sometimes, I fear sneezing in confined spaces with glass windows, lest I break them all. On a daily basis, I use the word 'excuse me' more than 'hello' and I hear the word 'bless you' more than 'hi'. Hey, I might be sick, but at least I am blessed!

Recently when I complained about this cold to a friend of mine, she asked me to visit an acupunturist. She even suggested a good doctor in Wisconsin, but I live 1500 miles away from Madison, and I am afraid of needles, so that idea never saw the daylight. One of my relatives suggested I try Ayurvedic medicine. I hope to implement this suggestion when I visit India in a few days time.

My friends tell me that I must be allergic. Since most of my affliction with cold has coincided with my stay at Houston, I boldly declare that I am allergic to the City of Houston, and allergic in more than one ways! But the malaise probably runs deeper. I am guessing this is some rare strain which is yet to be discovered by Scientists. And if that is so, I soon imagine scientists all over the world clamoring for a drop of my precious blood sample to conduct their research. I hope to happily sneeze away to riches by charging them exorbitantly for my blood sample. I can already envision using dollar bills to wipe my running nose instead of Kleenex. Hachooooo......excuse me!

Country Count

In many ways, traveling to Canada felt like traveling to the 51st state of America. Reality didn't hit me tell I had a rather unpleasant exchange with the guy behind the Foreign Exchange counter at baggage claim at the Toronto airport.

In a very nonchalant fashion, I asked him, " So they accept American Dollars here right?"
Piqued at my arrogance, he reprimanded, "You are in a different country sir. We have Canadian Dollars here. Look at the exchange rate. American Dollar is weak".
With humility restored, I slipped 5 greens to him and asked him to give me some colorful Canadian in return.

The concept of "Count" lives in a very small friend circle of mine. I don't even know how this got started in the first place. I guess one of us counted the states visited in US and that that set the tone for rivalry. Given my usual bragging ways, I am willing to bet that it was probably me! The early leaders in this Count game were me and my friend Shiva, and we decided to draw the framework for what constituted a State Count - You can successfully add a state to your Count, if you have driven through some part of it and set foot on it. To avoid confusing interpretations, we mandated that a gas station halt is a must for State Count. Airports were diligently kept away from State Counts.

In jest, we would abuse this Count, by starting parallel ridiculous counts like,
City Count - the name says it all...
Honk Count - number of honks received while driving (reflection of poor driving skills)
Gentleman Count - An acknowledgment received from the driver in front when you yield, thus signifying your gentleman like driving skills.
...hell ya! On some drunken nights, I remember keeping tab on even Piss Counts!!

However, the State Count has weathered the test of time, and kind of stood testament to the healthy competition as well as personal desires. With my State Count at 28, probably 28 of the prettiest, it seems like a mere formality to increase it to 50. Some of my friends might have overtaken me(??) and some lag far behind. But I sincerely hope each one of them gets to see the beauty of all the 50 states. However, like most things in life, dreams need to grow and the State Count is soon to be supplanted by something bigger - Country Count. But this time its not a game of oneupmanship, its merely a personal goal of visiting 100 countries. With only 10% accomplished towards this mighty goal, it might seem preposterous to suggest such a huge number. But I feel it would be a big shame if I were not fortunate enough to fulfill this goal in my life-time.

Last Paragraph deleted due to popular demand.

Holy Cow!

As my forefathers squirm in their grave, I have only I thing to say........."Yummmm.......!"


ps: Thank you Texas!

Silver Elite

"M'am can you take my coat please?"
"Sure, sir, and would you like something to drink?"
"Yeah, can I get a red wine, please?"
"There you go sir....."
"Thanks"

As I sipped my red wine, I smirked at other frustrated economy class passengers making their way past me, bustling to find the much coveted overhead cabin space and the rights to rule their neighbours arm-rests. As I soaked in my cabernet, I mockingly muttered to myself, "If only you guys had worked a little harder". Arrogance had finally arrived, it was probably fleeting....but I was loving every minute of it!

Till about last year, I had never flown First Class in any airlines. However, 2008 has started out with a big surprise, as I have now flown 4 out of my last 5 legs in that luxury cabin at the front of the aeroplane. This reversal of fortune is the fruit of my year long allegiance with Continental Airlines, which earned me the Silver Elite status through Feb 2009. Prior to moving to Houston, I lived in Los Angeles, which due to its location never served as a major airline hub. This resulted in me earning miles on 4 different accounts and never reaching a point where I could rake up enough miles in a year to reach the elite status. However, the city of Houston is serviced almost entirely by Continental, and courtesy my trips to Asia and Europe last year, I finally clocked enough miles to get inducted into the elite club.

As an economy coach traveller, the curtain between the coach and the First Class cabin always reminded me of the heirarchy in the society. There is a whole world of difference in the 2 classes. I get my first cocktail even before the flight leaves the gate. For meal, I get white linen spread on my table and get silverware, not some cheap plasticware! Infact on the flight back from Costa Rica, the first class actually served Steak for dinner and Sundaes for dessert! The rest-room is always empty, and I dont have to wade throught the aisle with 1000 prying eyes resting on me. There are no crying toddlers or garralous war veterans annoying me. There are tired business travellers who either work hard or sleep hard and respect your privacy.

However the best part of the Elite Status, is the feeling that you are better than others. On second thoughts, it is not the feeling, its the fact that you are better than others. While others snake through a mile long queue to get through security, I step on a blue carpet welcoming me and breeze through it. Even while boarding, as soon as those nasty toddlers board the planes, I get to board and use up as much of the overhead cabin space as I decided to consume. It gives a great sense of importance to board, when 95% of the passengers are still getting fidgety in their seat looking at you enviously before they get their chance to board. I also relish at the prospect of the sadistic pleasure of watching your friends haul past you into their crampy economy coach, while you esconce yourself in the comforts of your huge seat.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be able to go back and adapt myself to Economy coach anymore?

Lunch Hour (..and a half)

"Dude, don't turn back immediately, but check out the desi chic sitting in the table behind you"
"The one in black? I am not getting a good look. Is she cute?"
"Was cute when I walked in...don't know now! I only caught the profile, looked pretty. What are you planning to get? Mongolian beef?"
"Naah...I think I might get Orange peel chicken"
"Ok..lets order, probably we might get a better view from the registrar...."
" Can I get the chicken fried rice..spicy...and water..."

Food ordered. Table sighted.

"Dude, I still don't get a view of her..."
"Why are you turning your back towards her..you will never see her..let me get some silverware and hot sauce..I'll be back"
"Thanks for the tip...this seat works better"
"Damn..now I get to face the mens restroom, and turn my back to her"
"Do you wanna change the table...that table would work fine for all 4 of us"
"Nah..its OK..I am desperate...but not that desperate"

"She is kinda cute...do you think she is a FOB"
"Don't think so....she is with 2 white guys and a black lady..she looks kinda ABCD.."
"Hmmmm..I have definitely never seen her before"
"Howz the orange peel chicken...this fried rice sucks"
"Have some hot sauce...will make it better"
"Dude..why are you throwing your peanuts away.."
"There is wayyyy to many in this Pad Thai..."

"Look back...she is leaving..."
"hmmmm.."..turning back to the table, "whats so funny ?"
"Dude..while all 4 of us were gawking at her...the 2 guys with her were looking straight at us..."

"Nice..they have a funny anecdote to tell when they get back to the office.."
"Hey..its OK to stare..the way I look at it is..if the lady smiles back, she acknowledges the compliment...if she grimaces and looks away she is not too happy...but who cares? Nothing wrong in appreciating beauty"

"Yeah ..who cares..you guys ready to leave.."

"Do you wanna stop by that new coffee shop on washington and pick up a Latte..."
"Shouldn't we be getting back to the office..."
"Lets make it quick...we'll take it to go..besides its Monday"
"Ok Lets do it..I have a long day anyways...conference call at 5:00 pm.."

I love lunch-time.

Just a Terrible Day

I returned home exhuasted to Houston, from a 11 day work cum vacation trip of Los Angeles, where I slept less than 5 hours a day on an average. The last thing I was expecting was this;
Read the 6 hour drama captured in 15 minutes of office chat.

Arun Rajamani/... Dude Mr. india killed me yday....
Arun Rajamani/... it was probably my worst day ever
Subramanya Pr... what happened
Arun Rajamani/... on phone..hold on a sec
Subramanya Pr... ok
Arun Rajamani/... i am expecting a call back...but I should tell u Mr.
India's antics
Subramanya Pr... okie..this will entertain me
Arun Rajamani/... Our man doesn't know how to use toilet papers...so guess
what /...the first thing...he kills my toilet flush
Subramanya Pr... 1 sec
Subramanya Pr... phone
Arun Rajamani/... I got freaked out as water started coming out and seeping
below the door
Arun Rajamani/... oh ok
Subramanya Pr... yuuck!!!!!
Arun Rajamani/... luckily it was only paper and water...but it still messed
up the bathrroom
Subramanya Pr... disgusting dude
Arun Rajamani/... luckily the emergency staff was on 24 hrs call...so they
came and fixed it
Arun Rajamani/... Our man was already having some problem with his leg..some
infection or something...so he was doing major nakhra
Subramanya Pr... yuck!!!!what did mr.india have to say!
Arun Rajamani/... Wasn't even putting effor to clean the restroom...I sorta
had to force him
Subramanya Pr... oh man!this is just awful...
Subramanya Pr... how can he do that ur doing him a favor
Arun Rajamani/... ok..then he went to take bath
Arun Rajamani/... I specifically mentioned him to be careful with the
curtains...
Arun Rajamani/... and guess waht he came out flooding the bathrrom again...
Arun Rajamani/... again we had to spend time to clean the bathroom
Subramanya Pr... he is total idiot!
Arun Rajamani/... he is...man
Subramanya Pr... did he not realise that the water is leaking without the curtain!
Subramanya Pr... its obvious!
Subramanya Pr... I mean he has lived here for a few months now!duh!
Arun Rajamani/... then this idiot takes of his shirt and cavorts around the
house in boxers
Subramanya Pr... i am laughing right now
Arun Rajamani/... he starts to crash on my couch...I told him to go use my
bed instead
Subramanya Pr... but i am feeling disgusted actually
Arun Rajamani/... atleast I can wash my bed sheets
Subramanya Pr... totally...
Subramanya Pr... u shud have given him a sleeping bag
Subramanya Pr... and a sheet
Arun Rajamani/... I finally cooked for him..and fed him and put him to bed
Arun Rajamani/... it was 11:00 pm by then....
Arun Rajamani/... he was neither apologetic for his actions nor grateful for
mine....
Subramanya Pr... what an idiot...
Arun Rajamani/... ..and not to mentioned he changed the thermostat to 80
degrees....and I was wondering why AC is not working
Arun Rajamani/... His BPM's (Burps per minute) were kicking in as usual ..
Subramanya Pr... oh thats just bad!!!very bad
Subramanya Pr... what happened to his keys?
Arun Rajamani/... hold hold..the plot thickens
Subramanya Pr... theres more?!!!!!!
Arun Rajamani/... oh his lock was changed becos some idiot in office broke
the key inside the lock
Arun Rajamani/... ....Shobhana's ladies had kinda left my place messy..
Arun Rajamani/... My kitchen sink stopped draining very soon...so I had to
again call emergency maintenance
Arun Rajamani/... this time they could not rectify the kictchen sink
Subramanya Pr... oh man...y do people do this...ur always extra careful when
ur at someone else's place
Subramanya Pr... so they have to replace ur garbage disposal in the kitchen
sink?
Arun Rajamani/... yup..so i lost the use of kitchen sink and stopped cooking
Arun Rajamani/... not the disposal..but somewhere downstream there is a
clog
Subramanya Pr... I'm sure they dumped rice or something there
Subramanya Pr... stupid ppl man
Arun Rajamani/... so anyways..I still managed to cook...but just after
cooking, I broke a glass bowl on the floor..and it shattered all over
Arun Rajamani/... I spent some time cleaning, vaccuuming after that...and
cut my finger
Subramanya Pr... dude u have had a rotten day...might as well havemissed ur
flight and stayed in LA
Arun Rajamani/... yup....other things too....
Arun Rajamani/... I then went to the restroom only to find that all toilet
paper is exhausted...shobhanas ladies had used up all the reserve paper in
the cabinet !!!
Arun Rajamani/... ..and finally after everything I finally settled down to
check my mails and internet wont work,.and I had to spend another 15 min to configure my wireless
Subramanya Pr... how many stayed in ur place?
Arun Rajamani/... I think 5
Subramanya Pr... its gets from bad to worse to worst....
Arun Rajamani/... it was terrible man
Subramanya Pr... did they drape themselves in TP or what!
Arun Rajamani/... ..I finally spoke to Liar Liar for a while and went to bed
close to 1:00 am....
Arun Rajamani/... my sleep deprivation continues !!!
Subramanya Pr... Today will be dfferent!
Subramanya Pr... go home early and sleep..
Arun Rajamani/... this morning again I spent 2 hours helping Mr. India with
his apt etc
Subramanya Pr... dude ur great...
Arun Rajamani/... ..I have a 3 hr spanish class from 7-10 pm tonite....
Subramanya Pr... have lot of patience
Arun Rajamani/... I am throught with this IDIOT man..
Subramanya Pr... to go and help again this morning after what happened
Arun Rajamani/... I had to...cos he was in my house, and Jeff expected me to
help him out
Arun Rajamani/... thats my sad and sorry tale in short !!!
Arun Rajamani/... hope things r better in LA
Subramanya Pr... oh well!hopefully it will get better
Subramanya Pr... take the week to settle back in and rest...
Subramanya Pr... do a rahul for a week and u will be allright
Arun Rajamani/... i think i should

Airline Capers

* No matter how early you leave your home for the airport, you will always be late. You will always be the last to board the flight.

* Since you board last, all the overhead spaces would be taken, and you would have no option but to tuck your hand baggage under your seat, thus reducing your legroom.

* The air hostess in your flight will never be attractive. You have heard stories of airhostesses being models and really good looking....but thats a myth. They are 40+ ladies with loads of cosmetic and bottox injections. They are rude and cold !!!

* You will never have any luck with your co-passengers. If you are relieved that your sitting at the aisle seat, then you will be blessed with copassengers possessing over active bladders thus making you get up periodically. The cute girl will never sit next to you. In the unlikely case that a really cute girl sits next to you, she would be accompanied by her boyfriend. The only people sitting next to you would be 75 year olds who cant stop bragging about their involvement in Vietnam war, or 3 year old kids who will keep pulling at every piece of your attire and luggage.

* Incase you have a window seat, the seat would be over the wing, thus blocking a view of the beautiful landscape down below.

* The flight entertainment system will always show movies which you have seen 10 times or movies which you never want to see. When you decide to read the book that you have on hand, the kid (old man) next to you would torment you.

* Just as when you are catching up on some really good sleep, you would be rudely woken up by the air hostess to feed you a small packet of pretzels and a shot of orange juice. Your attempts to go to sleep are made further difficult by your co-passengers insistence to use the cabin reading lights.

* When your bladder is full, your path to the restroom will be blocked by the airhostess who are taxing food carts. When you finally make it to the lavatory, there will be 5 people ahead of you. When your turn does arrive, the aircraft would experience turbulence and the the steward would advise you to take a seat.

* Your flight will always be late, whereas your connecting flights will always be on time. This would mean that you would miss the connection and be stranded for 4 hours in a noisy airport. Due to the upset in the flight schedule you would be forced to have overpriced but yucky dinner at the airport.

* And if any of the above things don't happen to you......then either your bags wont reach the destination alongwith you or you must be flying in your private aircraft.

Voice Mail

So what's the deal with Voice Mail ? Well, I'll tell you for a fact that it is the most annoying part of the cell phone. When you call someone you expect to talk with them, not communicate with their machine. But if you are not a very popular person, like yours truly, there are good chances that you might end up listening to your friend's excuse and the Voice Mail lady's harangue. Here is what Voice Mail should not be,

"Hey, You have reached Cameron Diaz at 310-987-XXXX*. I am either busy or on another line and am unable to take your call right now, so please leave your name, number and message and I shall get back to you as soon as possible."

Firstly, Thank you very much for telling me you are busy, I was assuming that you were
still learning how to use the cell-phone and hence could not receive my call. Secondly, I am
grateful that you informed me that I am supposed to leave my name, number and message, I was unaware of this protocol. I was about to consult my cell phone manual to figure out what to do next. And thanks for consoling me with the fact that you shall call back as soon as possible, I thought you were going to call me only when you were on your deathbed discussing my share of will with your lawyer.

"Hey, You have reached Jerry Seinfeld at 917-856-xxxx*. I am unable to take your call right now, but if you could leave your name, number and message, I shall get back to you soon. Thanks you for calling."

Oh! I never knew your number was 917-856-xxxx. I just let my pet chimp punch vigorously on my cell phone. Thanks for informing your number. And by the way, your message is as bad as Cameron. And what do you mean Thank you for calling....I want my money back for my role in your series.

But it's not just these annoying messages that you have to deal with. You also have to listen to the Verizon Lady (Sprint, Cingular Damsel....whatever...) after these personal messages.

"Please record your message after the beep. When your finished recording, please hang up
or dial 1 for more options. To page this person press 5."

Thanks for informing me that the message has to be recorded after the beep, I was
thinking of staying on hold till someone screamed, "Record Now". Oh! I didn't know I was
supposed to hang up after leaving the message. I was thinking of gluing the cell phone to my ear and wait for further instructions. I have left him a message, I have no need to page this person u bit$%. And next time don't be so predictable..say something new.

This is how I think the message should be,

"Hey, This is Arun. Please leave a message."

Infact I am contemplating on dropping the words Hey & Please too. Ideally, this message should not be followed by the Verizon lady giving some elementary instructions.

I have a similar gripe with the method of retrieving a Voice Mail as well. But I shall save it for another post.

* On Cameron's & Jerry's request I have hid the last 4 digits of their number.

ps: Shane Warne's best 8 deliveries in Test cricket.

The Pressing Situation

Life becomes complicated when simple things go wrong. However, simplicity in itself is relative; the levels of which is defined by the abilities and the inclination of a person. A simple task for a particular person could turn out to be excrutiatingly painful for someone else. One such task which I have disliked my whole life, and made every effort to avoid has been "Pressing" - ironing my clothes. Thanks to my leap into the corporate world, I am condemned to devote every sunday evening doing this menial task.

I fail to understand how the idea of ironing one's clothes came into being. The human body is not perfectly flat, our actions are never planar or in straight lines. Under these circumstances it is but natural that our clothes would develop wrinkles and there is no point ironing it out, even though it might last for a few minutes. This is how, I believe, Ironing came into existence - Our ancestors were going out to a wedding ceremony, when they got drenched in a downpour. The easiest way of drying the clothes were to heat them, but in a way that they wouldn't get burnt. They tried throwing hot coal on it to take away the heat, but that soiled the clothes. Then someone came up with the brilliant idea of concealing the hot coal inside a metal box and drying the clothes. And Lo !! The first iron boxes came into existence.

Growing up as a pampered kid, my dad used to iron the clothes for me. Till I graduated from high school, I never had to touch the wicked ferrous box. Though I made efforts to learn the trait, I instantly detested it and stayed away from it. Undergrad life in IIT made life very convenient. I was surrounded by people who would wash their clothes once a semester - the probability of someone ironing their clothes under these circumstances were the same as that of snow in Madras. Thus I survived 3 careless years of "No more Pressing", until the fateful day of my job interview. With less than an hour left for the interview I took the risk of applying my amateurish skills to a brand new shirt - alas, I only succeeded in burning a big hole in it. After much coercion, I suckered my friend into ironing one of his shirts and lending it to me. Fortunately, I bagged the first job interview that I appeared in, and never had to bother about "pressing" for another year.

When I came over to Pennsylvania, the weather stayed cold for most part of the year, and sweat shirts & jeans made sure I never had to struggle with this wicked gadget. But thanks to a flood of job interviews, and some unco-operative roomates, my joy was short lived. However, I wiggled my way out by wearing a blazer to all the interviews. At lunch/dinner interviews when the interviewers removed their blazers, I stubbornly stuck to them, lest they see my crumpled shirt. Ignorant of my real concerns, they assumed it to be an act of reverence !

But over the past 3 months there has been no respite from this chore. I have tried to live smart by buying "wrinkle-free" shirts and thick cotton shirts. Unfortunately, the "wrinkle-free"s are the first to develop the creases - I wonder whether "wrinkle-free" actually means that you get wrinkles free of cost with the shirt. The other day, my boss saw a rather creased shirt and remarked, "Hey, Arun, you are wearing a new shirt !". Since the shirt was not new, I asked him why he said that. He replied, " When you remove all the pins and cardboard from the new shirt, they develop creases like this." I replied, " Yeah I bought it last weekend.". Little did he know, that the shirt was more than 3 months old and I had worn it more than a couple of times to work.

As I spend time devising a new scheme to outwit this evil, I have only one thing to say to my "iron box" - "RIP - Rust In Peace".

Conan's commencement speech

I have always thought of Jay Leno as being more funny than Conan O'brien. Infact I have hated a lot of episodes Conan's Late Show. But I recently happened to read his Harvard commencement speech, and I dont think I have ever laughed so much at a piece of text. For the benefit of anyone who cares to read this blog (unfortunately there are only a handful of them), here is the link ......(read it completely, it's hilarious)


Commencement Speech to the Havard Class of 2000

Labor Day ramblings

"Do you mind if I sit here ?", enquired this cute looking girl pointing to the vacant seat next to me. I concealed my elation and replied calmly, "not at all". I began to think of all the times that I have travelled by plane or train, praying that a babe would come and sit next to me...phewwww God had finally answered my prayers. Deciding not to lose a minute, I started the conversation complaining about the overbooked and delayed flight. She agreed with me and even before the flight took off the runaway we had exchanged decent bit of information about our travel plans and occupations. The girl was an undergrad from UC Berkeley and was travelling to Vegas to attend her friend's 21st B'day bash. The conversation slowly drifted from science to travel to cities and I was already cursing the fact that the flight from LAX to Las Vegas was only 1 hour long. But just as I was raising my expectations, she deflated them all with "......actually my Boyfriend also likes automotive stuff ...". We finally exchanged some pleasantries and parted ways in Vegas airport, admist sounds of the slot machines.

Waiting for my changeove flight to Albany, I prayed for a similar fate on my 4 hr flight from Las Vegas . But "Lady" luck is never on your side when you are in Vegas, instead a 60 year old couple settled beside me. I hid my disappointment as they greeted me and sat next to me, but without wasting time, I took out my 600M and started editing random stuff on it. After the long uneventful flight I finally landed in Upstate NY late on Saturday night.

I was overcome by a sense of Nostalgia as we wound through some lush green hilly areas enroute our home. The next day was overcast with the mercury in late 60s - perfectly crisp fall weather, and the weather made me look back fondly at my 2 years in similar setting in Pennsylvania. When you are in Souther Cal, you come to accept that clear blue skies and bright sun shine is the order of the day, and though most people like it, I would exchange it for the fall weather Northeast on any given day. The densely wooded hills and green terrain was really a treat for sore eyes - something which lower California could probably never boast about.

Sunday was capped with a nice cruise on Lake George. My heart lept, when I saw people parasailing on the lake on a gorgeous day. But 70$ would have left a big hole in my pocket and I decided against any adventure. The highlight of the trip, however, was the delicious homecooked food and sweets that I devoured, and I returned back to Los Angeles with a heavy stomach and a heavy heart.

On the flight back from Baltimore to Los Angeles, the flight was overbooked again, and I couldnt believe my eyes when this babe came and sat next to me. But she was not alone, her boyfriend followed her like a shadow, and by some cruel twist of fate, his seat was 2 rows ahead of us. It was then I donned the hat of a good samaritan and offered to switch places with the guy so that the love birds could sit next to each other. As I soaked in profuse compliments for my noble act, I resigned to the fate of sitting beside another 60 year old couple.

ps: Why do old people travel so much ?

Stumped !

A lot of times we are faced with situations which leave us tongue twisted and embarrased. Here are a few of them which happened within the last month to me and my friend

Event 1: (Friday night @ Old Town Pasadena)

Old Town Pasadena is a happening part of the city on friday night, and boasts of the maximum number of clubs, bars and restaurants in city. I am accompanied by 4 more friend (3 guys and 1 girl), as we search for a good bar in the neighbourhood. As we are waiting for the walk sign, my friend spots 2 very attractive blondes walking towards us. He decides to approach them and enquire about a good place to drink

Him: "Excuse me, do you know any good bars around this place ?"
Babe #1: "You mean a Gay bar!"

Stumped!! As he stumbled for words, we laughed our ass@# off standing at the crosswalk.

Event 2: (2 days ago at YMCA in San Marino, CA)

Me : "Can you tell me when the next swimming classes are starting ?"
Instructor: "Sure"
He pulls out 2 multi colored sheets, and explains the different swimming schedules and the fee structure.
Me: "Thanks a lot, I would be interested in this schedule"
Instructor: "So is your child swim tested ?"
Me: "Child ???"
I am 23, my friends think I look 18, and this guy wants to teach my child swimming. I am speechless !!

PS: "In todays world, more people are born out of accidents, than those who die out of it."

Hot Properties

Last thursday, I had been to the filming of the new ABC comedy series "Hot Properties" at their set in the Warner Brother studios in Burbank. Prior to this, I have walked past 2 random documentary shootings in South Pasadena, and a Pontiac commercial shooting in downtown LA. However, this was my first full fledged viewing of a sitcom being televised. The tickets for the audience was free, and hence it needed minimal effort on my friend's part to convince us to be part of the audience for the show.

As per the regulations, we had to land about 90 minutes in advance for the shooting. Burbank is kind of a silver screen capital, with ABC, NBC and Warner Brother studios located within a mile radius. Since we were a little early for the show, we utilised our time constructively by appreciating the beauty (beauties) around. Southern California is truly a haven for such activities, especially the northern LA neighbourhoods like Pasadena, Burbank, Brentwood, Beverly Hills etc. I have always felt that God spent more amount of time sculpting his creations in Southern California than any other part of the country....you just have to see 'em to believe me.

The eventful night started with a gorgeous blonde sitting right by Paul's side. In his regular glib fashion, Paul was at the task. I was sitting awestruck, a seat away, and decided hesitatingly to dive into the conversation. Physical distance coupled with my dearth of talent meant that I ended up contributing more of my ears than voice to the conversation. The blonde however took some pity on my plight, and started exchanging pleasantries with me, as Paul got engaged with another of her friends. The girl was an aspiring migrant from Florida trying to break into some form of theatre in Los Angeles.....if only looks could get you a role, then she should soon be lining our televisions.

Coming back to the show - It was really funny, but with almost 10 takes for each scene, it got a trifle annoying. Ron, the host/stand up comic, did an excellent job of keeping the audience riveted to their seats. He made fun of as many US states and as many countries that existed in the world. However, the show tested on the audience's patience as it tugged along for 4 1/2 hours, and the empty stomachs only compounded people's misery.

....so when the first episode gets televised on some friday night on ABC, you can hear me laugh in the background :). I have already booked tickets for this thursday's show of "Jimmy Kimmel Live", and I am determined to make my first television appearance :)

Cold Chappati

Off late, I have been having some really good chappatis*, courtesy Pillsbury frozen rotis . As I look back at my nomadic existence for the past 8 years, I realise that I have never been satisfied with this most important component of Indian dinner. People from southern states of India might debate my claim and would like to replace chappati by rice, thanks to their doting grandmothers who pampered them on a "curd rice & pickles" diet.

Search for greener pastures contributed to my nomadic existence for past 8 years and I ended up tasting the wheat flour reciepe, baked by different hands. During my High School (Junior College), the mess (canteen) was closed most of the days and I ended up eating Naans** is nearby cheap hotels. Chappatis were surely "naan-existent" during this phase of my life, save the weekend jaunts to my home. During my undergraduate years at IIT, I was fortunate enough to have a well established canteen ............and sure enough there was chappati for dinner. 6 years from then, I am still trying to chew down the first bite of the chappati that I had on that eventful day. The latest news about the "IIT-chappati" is that it is under investigation by the army for its deployment as a bullet proof vest. During my graduate studies, I lived 250 miles away from Edison, NJ, and in the absence of a 4 wheeler, I had to satisfy myself with the mexican version of the same. Finally I started living by the dictum, "If you don't have chappati, eat bread."

However, all is not well with the Pillsbury chappatis that I am baking and feasting for dinner. As I diligently stand in front of the cooking range and bake them, I realise that by the time I am done with making my 5th Chappati, the 1st is already cold. Infact by the time I begin to eat them, most of them are cold. The fact that I am a slow eater doesnt help for sure. But I am gripped by a wave of nostalgia when I recollect the time when my mom is used to serve fluffed chappatis for dinner - and each one of them was straight out of the fire, as hot as it gets.

But what was disturbing to me was not the nostalgia, but the chappati's on my mom's plate. With no one to serve her with the fluffed up bread, she was probably having her 4th & 5th chappati's as cold as I am having today. I have had this plight only for a forthnight, but she has been doing this all her life, and yet I have never heard her complain. I am sure the story is the same for millions of mothers all over India, as they unselfishly sacrifice a few degrees of heat off their plate to serve love and warmth to others. I never thought a small thing like heating a chappati would make me reflect on something monumental as this, as they say 'Only a wearer knows where the shoe pinches'.

I might be able to throw in a few dollars and please myself with Pillsbury.....but sure enough, there are somethings in life which money can't buy.


*Indian version of wheat tortillas, much tastier than the tortillas though.
** Leavened flour bread

Damn Iyer

If you can't sleep at night cause you didn't finish your dinner with curd rice and pickles, then you might be a Damn Iyer.

If you think eating out of plantain leaves is not bovine, and licking rice out of your palms is decent, then you might be a Damn Iyer.

If you think Rajnikanth should be the Prime Minister of India, then you might be a Damn Iyer.

If you think Sholay is a side-dish to be had with Puri, then you might be a Damn Iyer.

If you think you failed at your Math examination because you only scored 93/100, then you might be a Damn Iyer.

If you think Khushboo is better looking than Carmen Electra (....even after visualising her(Khusboo) in a bikini), then you might be a Damn Iyer.

If the only form of fast food lunch you have is a Subway Veggie delite, then you might be a Damn Iyer.

If your mom won't let you use your air conditioner during daytime, even when it's 110F outside, then you might be a Damn Iyer.

If you started learning English alphabet as A, B, C, D, E, F, GRE, then you might be a Damn Iyer .

If atleast one of your sons or nephew is doing a MS in USA in Computer Science or working in Bay Area, then you might be a Damn Iyer.

If you believe that smearing 80% of your head with (horizontal lines only) ashes makes you look smarter, then you might be a Damn Iyer.

If you are scared to talk to the hot chick next door cause she doesnt belong to the same caste, then you might be a Damn Iyer.

If Thumbs Up is the strongest drink that you have ever had, and "Tanni adikriye" actually means hitting water, then you might be a Damn Iyer.

If you stole your father's first name for your last name cause your ancestors weren't creative enough to come up with a surname in the first place, then you might be a Damn Iyer.

If your mom didn't allow you to watch the Indo-Pak world cup cricket finals because "Chitti" was being televised on Sun TV at the same time, then you might be a Damn Iyer

Mother Chucker

This is just an awesome blog, giving one plausible reason for my suspect bowling action. This blog has been written by Rohan Kumar ( "http://meagainstmyself.rediffblogs.com/" ) (The title "Mother Chucker" is something which I have earned off late at Parkway Cricket Ground (PCG). Thanks Rohan for enlightening me and people about my sly action.

"Fresh from a meal of Cerelac and armed with new diapers and bib he stepped out looking all dapper in his new pram. It was a hot Chennai afternoon and he was kept protected in the comforts of his new sunroof equipped pram. As his mom towed him down the narrow street he kept looking out at the Chidambaram Stadium wondering what would be going on today beyond the huge walls encircling the cricket pitch. He nursed a dream to play someday for the team blue emulating the one day feats of Kapil dev and their now toast of the country world cup victory. While traffic was generally busy that day he kinda felt safe on the one way sidewalk that he had graced for almost 3 years now. While he was lost in his grand plans for the day his mom also had apparently other things (like his overactive bladder and the shooting costs of diapers) to keep her occupied. I guess none of them managed to notice the other pram coming in from the other side ignoring the one way only sign. His mom tried to avoid ramming into the oncoming pram but the other pram shook violently from side to side with the jerky and hyperactive actions of its lone passenger. The crash was heart wrenching causing extensive wrist elbow and shoulder injuries to both passengers of prams. He was told that he would never be able to play for team India unless the ICC made a mockery of the bowling rules 22 years henceforth. His dreams shattered and washed away by this cruel twist of fate, he started concentrating on his studies while also practicing knife throwing for circuses as a side job. While his studies flourished he also earned a name for his throwing abilities and his precision for being able to throw anything on a spot with an inch of precision. He managed to make it through his undergraduate years at college with flying colors and came away to a foreign distant land to pursue ambitions of a higher education. But he wasn’t to know that he would be able to pursue his ambition of playing his favorite game after so many years, away form the prying eyes of ICC bending his arm to even 16 degrees (what the hell he could even bend it to 116 if he wanted). And so began his legend of being an expert bowler at PCG for his uncanny ability to throw on a spot and he began enjoying happy days in his life after being scarred from that accident. Unfortunately in a final twist of fate he met his nemesis initialed R.S., the guy who had rammed his pram thus destroying his ambitions of playing for team India, on the same PCG grounds. Wats worse the other guy seemed to have gained instant fame and recognition at PCG. While the final result of this showdown is still awaited I shall keep you guys posted on this one."

The Philosophy of PJ's

I am no authority when it comes to PJ's, neverthless I thought I can share my limited
wisdom on this topic with you. To the uninitiated, PJ stands for "Poor Joke". I must also
add, oxymoronic as it may sound, that there does exist something called as a good PJ. (though my friends firmly believe I am incapable of crackin one !)

Sometimes PJ's are "real" simple, at other times they might be "complex" (e.g P + iJ).
There are two broad categories into which PJ's can be classified, situational and classics.
There is also a sub-section of PJ's which are neither situational nor classic, but which
yearn to be classic and thrive as long as they can find a patronising audience. These are
generally cracked by budding PJ enthusiasts or by yours truly.

Classic PJ's are real hard to come by. They need a very keen sense of humour and a very
fertile mind to develop. Ever since my 'A-' I think my knowledge ('Naal-edge') regarding
classics have received a jolt. Some of my recent attempts have all fallen into the
sub-section that I have mentioned in the previous paragraph. The classics are always fun to
narrate - cause these are time tested and have proven to evoke atleast a semblance of
laughter even amongst very serious personalities.

Situationals PJ's are very contextual and are cracked impromptu. There is a very less
likelihood of them being appreciated outside the specific context. These PJ's have a very
short lifespan, and humorous as they might be, are neverthless banished into oblivion at the end of the conversation. A small piece of advice while recieving these kind of PJ's - if you
dont get it the first time, just hide your ignorance and laugh alongwith others. Failure to
do so might result in people laughing at you, rather than with you. Also, principle states
that no "corollaries" should be cracked once the main "lemma" is stated. Applied PJ is a
whole new ball game and must be rehearsed only in the presence of an experienced and well
trained audience.

I have always found that the quality of PJ cracked depends to a great extent on the
company that you are. Two of my friends, Totti and Ronnie George (ddf), are like tonics to
the ego of any PJ cracker. Somehow both possess an uncanny ability to laugh at even the
poorest of the poorest PJ. On the other hand I have come across people who dont possess even an iota of sense of humour and would frown down at any attempt to regale them.

At the beginning of the year I had this New Year resolution of putting together a website
on PJ's. I appointed myself and Kiran Aatre as the associate editors of our "International
Journal of PJ's (IJPJ)", and Totti as the webmaster. Param and many others had even agreed
to contribute articles to it. The phonetic nature of a some of the PJ's makes the web a difficult place to convey them effectively....and so like most of my other New Year resolutions this one never saw the daylight !

SeinLanguage

(I recently finished reading this book 'SeinLanguage' which has all the famous standups of Seinfeld. I am a big fan of Jerry. I attended his stand up at Penn State University. I also have a CD of his famous stand up at the Broadhurst theatre. Here are 2 really nice stand up pieces from the book. If you are familiar with his style of delivery, then I encourage you to read the following pieces as if he would have delivered it....its much more fun)

I once had a leather jacket that got ruined in the rain. Now why does moisture ruin leather ? Aren't cows outside a lot of the time ? When its raining, do cows go up to the farmhouse,
"Let us in! We're all wearing leather! Open the door! We're going to ruin the whole outfit here!"

Many states in the country have traffic schools to get a ticket taken off your license. I went to traffic school, I didn't mind it. I felt bad for the traffic school instructor. This guy goes to traffic school every day no matter how he drives. What is his incentive not to speed ? He is going to traffic school anyway. Why not get a race car, do two hundred miles an hour down a street ? Cops stop you,
"Where are you going?"
"Traffic school"
"All right, go ahead. And you better hurry, you really need it"
Maybe the punishment should be instead of traffic school or traffic court, just traffic. They assign like 5 people to drive around you at 5 miles an hour wherever you go. You're on your way to Vegas, there isn't a car in sight,
"Come on, move it!

ROMM - Hangover Speak !

Drinking to me always has signified ringing in good times or just washing away all the sorrows in ethanol. With a good amount of experience, I think I have mastered the art of getting up without an hangover irrespective of the amount of alcohol I consume. Looking back at the previous night it always hurts to know that money has been spent down the drain literally. Each time I crank the flush next to the toilet seat, I can see the 5$ bill I spent on an Amaretto or a Cointreau spiralling inwards and vanishing into waste. As one of my friends recently put it - its sometimes better to be a "cheap drunk".

But if you can shrug of a hangover the next morning, then you are assured of a very fine day. A feeling of serenity and satisfaction defines the state of mind on such a day. Things happen very much like it happened the night before, except that you are sober.

The state of drunkeness is not only determined by the amount of drinks one cosumes but also by one's antics while consuming them. For example I always thought that loud music and vigorous body movements aka dancing contribute significantly to one getting drunk - I think the more active you try to be the more drunk you get. Rambling amongst friends also aggravates the state.

On the other hand consuming a lot of water saves you from dehydration and also sobers you down a little (Lime has a similar effect). But recently I figured out that a nice long walk and some good talk can get you down totally. Last weekend I drank a lot ( I wouldnt like to quote the amount though, but it was a lot by normal standards of people around me), but a 2 mile walk accompanied by an intelligent speak with a friend had me down sooner than it got me high.

Sometimes the best sleep you get is one when you are totally drunk. As you lay on the bed, you see the ceiling revolving around you. You feel light, as if the bed was floating in the air, and you pass through a state where you dont realise whether your dreaming or your awake. As you replay the incidents that happened during the course of the day, you seem to see them in a different light - much brighter than what you would have seen. You are conscious enough to note all the events, yet your drunk enough not to register every detail. You are in a state of mind where every story has a happy ending and a bright sequel - and this is where I want to belong !