Wednesday, July 28, 2004

The Idea

The creation of the universe has long been argued about by philosophers, scientists and religious heads. While the formers views about it vary with every phase of the moon, the tide and flapping of butterfly wings, the other two have been at loggerheads with each other.  Scientists have theories ranging from the bizarre to the downright silly, while the religious heads (when they are not wrestling each other) agree that a supreme being created the universe on a rather boring Wednesday afternoon.

However, the incident which we are about to witness holds no relevance to all this, for it occurred much before we humans existed and pondered over questions such as our own existence or whether our clothes made our rear ends look swelled up.

It was a place which would be considered seedy by many of us, but for the two friends this was where they had first met and over many drinks had realized that though their jobs kept them at different ends of the pole, they had everything else in common.

As he walked in thru the haze, his eyes were looking for his friend. He hoped and was sure that drinks had already been ordered and was keen to know the reason for his being here. He spotted the “I Am Him” T-Shirt and headed towards it.

“So what was the all that about? You sounded so darn excited I left mid-way at work and rushed over. This had better be important!”

His friend seemed to be busy writing down something and over the loud music didn’t seem to have heard a word of what he said.

“Hey! What you busy with?” he asked, as he sat down right opposite his friend. His eyes quickly darted about and noticed that drinks indeed were already present and this produced a smile on his face.

“Oh, Hi! Sorry, didn’t see you come in… I ordered you a drink. And what I am busy with, is the reason why I called you over.  At work yesterday, I hit upon an idea, and its been bugging me like a forgotten lyric ever since. ”

What’s it about?

Remember the company’s last project?

The  one which was scrapped? How can I forget XPV3213. It had me working weekends. What about it ?

I was thinking about what went wrong with it, and how all the hard work we put in went to waste. And believe it or not,  I think I might have come up with a solution.

We quit and find better jobs?

Stop kidding! This is serious. Listen up, my idea just might make Universe Implementation Projects  work.

No Kiddin! Wait a sec, let me order something more. I am quite hungry.

By the time the order arrived, the conversation begun. Pages filled with obscure phrases – poorly drawn sketches and incomprehensible bulleted points flew up.  The Pandora’s box had opened.

Thursday, July 15, 2004


Date: 1st December 1996.

I first came to know about Mukund thru Vijay when I joined Inter. Vijay asked me to mingle with this boy called Mukund who would be my senior. Vijay painted quite a picture of him. A studious nerd with a bunch of cronies. He also told me that Mukund was a tamilian and that I should try and make him my guru...sort of.

I never paid this characted a second thought. But when some doubts about some computerese arose, I din't want to ask Vijay. So this Mukund characted came into my mind. That week, KG bus came quite late in the evening. So while standing, I chanced upon this nerdy looking, brown guy next to me and I suddenly felt that he is Mukund. And it was. Due to the awe inspiring picture that Vijay had painted of him, I wanted him to be my guru/friend. I talked to him about my likes and dislikes, heavily critisizing Heavy Metal etc. I was pretty sure that his tastes would be similiar to mine. How wrong I was. He and Me were poles apart. He abhorred Tamil music and swam in Heavy Metal. So, In short I made an utter fool of myself.

Me and Nimish, have played a signinficant role in Mukund's life, wether he realizes it or not. We have helped him go back to his childhood which I feel he has missed, although I don't have any idea why. Wether he would acknowledge it or not, If it were not for us, The little bit of humanness in him would have been destroyed. Mukund's best friend ( and my good friend) Sarosh, is a normal person as such. So I don't know why Mukund has turned out this way. All the time Mukund spent with Me and Nimish, he chided us of being childish. I agreed. We were in no hurry to grow up. But I knew that Mukund wanted to be one of us. Something he has not been able to do till today.

I have always felt that a persons maturity lies in the way he/she handles his/her first crush. And since Mukund was mature ( that's what I thought) I was surprized when he had this hopeles crush on Rimli. He was this typical boy in love. Making an ass of himself and causing his friends a lot of misery. I don't want to relate all the incidents that took place during this period. I hope you remember them. These incidents have made me realize Mukund's immaturity.
Too much negative has been said about him so far. But there is a lot more to say. Today, Mukund has a persecution complex. He feels that everyone around him are talking about him and talking real dirty about him. And in the positive side, Mukund is different. He is not your average Tom, Dick and Harry. His thoughts are different. Though I am not close enough to him to know his goals. I can say for sure that Mukund has only two images as his future. Either he will be a huge success or a miserable failure. And I really hope that he succeds. But not before he faces some real failures. And unless he recovers from the shell he is in now, I fear the first image can be ruled out.

And the only reason I continue this relationship with this person is for his knowledge, software and my pity for him.


Started 11 July 1997.

Inside every guy wearing a suite, there is a guy in a T-Shirt in him wanting to get out.

No mater how great your triumph or how sorrowful your defeat, About 1 billion Chinese around the world couldn't care less.

The turtle may not soar like the eagle, but It doesn't get caught in Jet Plane Engines as well.

Shower the people you love with love......... Or better yet, shower with the people you love.

If it ain't broke, fix it till it is.

I don't get even, I get odder.

I always wanted to be a procrastinator, never got around to it

I am not fat..I am a nutritional overachiever

My inferiority complex is not as good as yours

I am in shape. Round is a shape

Sometimes I wake up grumpy; other times I let him sleep

It's as BAD as you think, and they ARE out to get you

Give me ambiguity or give me something else

He who laughs last, thinks slowest

3 kinds of people: those who can count & those who can't

Ever stop to think, and forget to start again?"

Maybe in order to understand mankind, we have to look at the word itself:
"Mankind". Basically, it's made up of two separate words - "mank" and "ind".
What do these words mean ? It's a mystery, and that's why so is mankind.

Don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things.

Santa is very jolly because he knows where all the bad girls live.

Why do they use sterilized needles for lethal injections?

I bet the main reason the police keep people away from a plane crash is they
don't want anybody walking in and lying down in the crash stuff, then, when
somebody comes up, act like they just woke up and go, "What was THAT?!"

The face of a child can say it all, especially the mouth part of the face.

I'd rather be rich than stupid.

If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming
and tripping and begging for mercy, then yes, Mr. Brave man, I guess I'm a

To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and
the dancers hit each other.

To me, clowns aren't funny. In fact, they're kind of scary. I've wondered where
this started and I think it goes back to the time I went to the circus, and a
clown killed my dad.

If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We
might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.

You know what would make a good story? Something about a clown who make people
happy, but inside he's real sad. Also, he has severe diarrhea.

We used to laugh at Grandpa when he'd head off and go fishing. But we wouldn't
be laughing that evening when he'd come back with some whore he picked up in

When I was a kid my favorite relative was Uncle Caveman. After school we'd all
go play in his cave, and every once in a while he would eat one of us. It wasn't
until later that I found out that Uncle Caveman was a bear.

Instead of trying to build newer and bigger weapons of destruction, we should be
thinking about getting more use out of the ones we already have.

Sometimes I think I'd be better off dead. No, wait, not me, you.

If you're in a war, instead of throwing a hand grenade at the enemy, throw one
of those small pumpkins. Maybe it'll make everyone think how stupid war is, and
while they are thinking, you can throw a real grenade at them

I hope life isn't a big joke, because I don't get it.

Life, to me, is like a quiet forest pool, one that needs a direct hit from a big
rock half-buried in the ground. You pull and you pull, but you can't get the
rock out of the ground. So you give it a good kick, but you lose your balance
and go skidding down the hill toward the pool. Then out comes a big Hawaiian man
who was screwing his wife beside the pool because they thought it was real
pretty. He tells you to get out of there, but you start faking it, like you're
talking Hawaiian, and then he gets mad and chases you...

Sometimes, when I drive across the desert in the middle of the night, with no
other cars around, I start imagining: What if there were no civilization out
there? No cities, no factories, no people? And then I think: No people or
factories? Then who made this car? And this highway? And I get so confused I
have to stick my head out the window into the driving rain---unless there's
lightning, because I could get struck on the head by a bolt.

The whole town laughed at my great-grandfather, just because he worked hard and
saved his money. True, working at the hardware store didn't pay much, but he
felt it was better than what everybody else did, which was go up to the volcano
and collect the gold nuggets it shot out every day. It turned out he was right.
After forty years, the volcano petered out. Everybody left town, and the
hardware store went broke. Finally he decided to collect gold nuggets too, but
there weren't many left by then. Plus, he broke his leg and the doctor's bills
were real high.

There's so much comedy on television. Does that cause comedy in the streets? -- Dick Cavett, mocking the TV-violence debate

Calvin: People think it must be fun to be a super genius, but they don't realize
how hard it is to put up with all the idiots in the world. Hobbes: Isn't your
pants' zipper supposed to be in the front?

"Time's fun when you're having flies." -- Kermit the Frog

Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, "Where have I gone wrong?" Then a
voice says to me, "This is going to take more than one night." -- Charlie Brown

His finest hour

This was my first writing effort ever... i dont exactly remember when I wrote this, perhaps in Inter. But the character of Balakrishna was based on our Physics Lecturer in Inter.... The story itself was inspired from 'To Sir With Love' and It was titled so till moments ago. Btw, no apologies for the immaturity of the story..remember i was young...besides, this story is still my favourite.

Even as the bus came to a screeching halt, Balakrishna's mind was still juggling decesions. How would they take in a new lecturer ? Are teachers ragged too ? Will he get a salary which would feed his growing needs ? Would they be well behaved ? No! They didn't make kids like that anymore. Not that he was the last of the well behaved kids.He had had his fair share of mischief in his childhood days..Or so he thought. He would steal back into school and read for the test next day. Other children were so stupid. After passing his B.Com with a first class, he was working in the same school he had studied earlier. But since his needs could not contain in his salary, the village couldn't contain him. So Balakrishna joined a college in the city as a lecturer of commerce.

The blaring school bell pulled him back into the world he was in. He trotted his way to the staff room hoping to find someone there...someone to tell him that lecturers were not hanged by their toe-nails over a blazing fire by the students here. But to his dismay, the hall was empty. Now how was he going to know how the students of this college were. On his way to his class his thoughts began jumping around again. When even the tiny urchins in the village school jeered him for his tiny build and bald head, how would a class full of.... A second bell jarred again. He quickened his pace.

His entry into his class was silent. The students did not greet him. But Bala far from minding it was happy. At least there were no giggles and hisses. A whole 'bunch' of droopy faces were looking at him now. His eyes probed deep into each, finding no intelligent life anywhere.

Suddenly a voice emerged from within him. ' Good Morning Students! Though it is customary that the students wish their teacher upon his arrival, I took no offence to your behaviour.' Bala himself couldn't believe the inspiring speech which was so involuntarily coming out of his mouth. It was as if a super intelligent life form had taken over his oral capacities. He could see pupils in his student's eyes expand as they watched in awe and respect. This was Bala's finest hour and he wished it go on forever, but then he found these words coming out of his mouth and realized that his moment had come to and end "And in conclusion I wish you good morning."

The neandrathals were silent and staring with admiration. Bala had never expected all this from himself. It was of the cuff, the whole thing. For the first time in his life he had people's attention for a reason other than his person.

The silence broke..Was that a snigger..? From where..? Soon the whole class was rolling in their benches. Balakrishna in all his nervousness had forgotten to 'do his Zipper'.

Somethings never change.


This is a 'Copy Paste' from my Diary.....and if u expected a disclaimer...u wont be dissappointed. The views below were certainly mine...but please also note the date. My current views may not necesarily be the same on all topics.

Date:- 14th June 1996

You may be surprized that the name Syed Asad is the first one in this book. But the only reason for this is that this was the name that came to my mind first.

Date:-15th June 1996.

I met Asad during my 5th class. We were not friends from that time. Far from it, we were enemies. Believe it or not. It so happened that Asad was the class leader and I was myself. One day ( if i remember right, it was Asad's b'day. So Kareem ( a boy in the class) decided to give him his watch. This was not due to friendship, it was solely for the sake of getting into his good books. I don't know whether Asad accepeted the watch or not. But for some strange reason I told of Kareem's deal to Amma.
The same week, Amma came to school and complained to the Vice-Princi. The news spread all over school. So that's how me and Asad came to be bitter enemies. A few days later, Asad came to me and asked me why I had done all this. I gave him a muddeled reply which even I couldn't understand, ( But it was intentionall).
I don't remember how, but quite soon after that we became friends ( not close though!) He still had his old friends like Sajeed etc. But he could not hold onto them for long. Maybe their 'lower than a snail's belly' intellect was irritating him. Anyway, both of us were steadily coming closer and leaving our old friends behind. Our interests, and intelectual thoughts were same. While the others talked of silly things we were into serious stuff.
In our 7th we saw our first movie together, It was 'Honey, I Shrunk the kids!' and it was in Sangeet, on a Saturay and the noon show.
By our 8th class we were well established 'best-Friends'. It was in this class that both of us learnt about intercourse and sex. I remember, We used to pour through the blue Oxford Pocket Dictionary ( It was supposed to be Vijay's. But he hardly knew that It existed.) We went to the word 'Intercourse' and there it was written, 'Insertion of Man's Penis into Woman's Vagina'. We for starters were dumbfounded, flabbergasted and all that stuff. To this day, I owe to the Oxford dictionary for most of what I know about sex. Even as I am writing I am sniggering to myself as I recollect these incidents. I am sure that you will too.

Date:-13th November 1996.
Asad & Me never realised that we are 'best friends' until maybe we were in 8th class. I don't recall, when we became friends and how our enimity faded away. Our thoughts were alike, and that's what brought us together. Asad is 2 years older than me. That made him one of the oldest in the class. So he probably felt alone, in a class full of 'kids'. So when he found me, talking uinlike the rest of the class, and being 'above the rest' probably made him like me. But I was mostly another one of those freaks in the class who loved fun and 'chutiye kaaman' as Asad himself would have put it. I could have survived without a super intellegent peer. So what attracted me to him. Probably his love for books, which we both shared @ that time.
But even in school, we hanged around with the regular freaks a lot. Probably Asad dind't need this, but I did. So Asad was there with me. The one main difference between me and Asad is ( I hope I get this right) that he dosen't hide his high thougts, but I behave like a childish, immature 17 year old with others, but with Asad I am something else. Only Asad knows this. I don't want to analyze this further because this chapter is about Asad and not me.
When school broke up in class X, I thought that this was the end of our friendship. Because, I certainly don't believe in long distance relationships. I had forgotten all about Asad and didn't worry about it much, thinking only about the college life ahead of me. But thank god, Asad remembered me. One day, I came back from Bhavans College after submitting the forms, to find Asad sitting in my home. He told me that he planned to take MPC in St.Marys. But I (with a little help from Amma) brain washed him into taking CS Voc. We didn't meet much in the hols. Though I don't know why.
While writing if it appears as if I am a very proud and haughty guy. Then you can go to hell. I am telling the bare truth. Me and Asad are definetely a cut above the rest. And we both don't have any inhibitions about this with each other.

Date:14 November 1996.
I could never decide who is more mature, me or Asad. @ first I felt it was him, but some of his views and ideas shows him to be very immature. He is conservative, thought not as much as the average muslim. He hates 'made-up' women. But you can't expect a muslim from his background to be a total revolutionary. He has very immature in judging people. A person who was an angel one day would be a bastard the other. So far, one Mr.Ahmed (Achmed if you remember), & A Sashi stand to prove my point. Relatively I feel that I am more stable in my thoughts and judging people.
Another of Asad's qualities which I ( I hate to say this) admire is his never tire attitude. He faces so many failures every day, most of which I make it a point to point out to him. But he is still confident about it. So confident that you can only call it over confidence. He always feels that things will work out peachy keen. Come to think of it, isn't this a bad quality in him. Won't this mar his future. I hope not.

16th January 1997.

More on his overconfidence. Asad is getting more and more overconfident. He has even gone to the limit of saying that WE are geniuses. We are certainly not. We are above average. I don't even consider us Very Good. In the international level, we are just above average. And that is very good I feel. Moreover Asad covers his shabby programs under the guise that his ' underlying engine ' is powerful. The only difference between his programs and mine I feel is that I pay lots more attention to the interface and intuitiveness than he does. Just because my programs look and feel good doesn't make them technically inferior. And just because his programs have a nerdy look dosen't make it great. This is something I have never been able to convince Asad about.
Once and for all, I certainly feel that I am better than Asad in computers.

November 10th 1997.
I have been reading the chapters on Asad and have added to the Asad vs Me chapter just a few moments ago. But my pen just doen't seem to stop. Since I have been critical of him in the other chapter, I guess I more than owe it to him to write something good.
I was just thinking and a thought occured to me. If it wasn't for Asad I probably wouldn't have been the intellectual that I am. But Asad probably wouldn't have needed me. This may sound to be a paradox to what I may have written earlier. But I have written what has come to my mind now. So there!
And even if we do achieve success I think Asad would have a bigger hand in mine than mine in his. This is probably because Asad is the one who is enterprising. He is willing to ' Just to it'. Maybe it is because business runs in his blood.

Monday, July 12, 2004

Divine Justice

It was a much too typical evening on the 14th of May. The sun seemed unwilling to set behind the hills with the high raise '60 lac each' condominiums, wanting to catch a glimpse of the night sky - an unfullfilled wish since the dawn of time. The early stars were loathe to come out of their hiding. The birds may get the worm but what do the stars get for coming out early? The wind was racing through the city adding excitement and confusion to the already congested and maddening traffic returning home - just in time to watch their spouses watch TV. The warmth of the afternoon was receding and giving way to the warmth of the evening.

The motley crowd in the 'Biryani Joint' was noisy, but unintrusive in a way that only motely crowds in Biryani Joints can be. In a corner the soon to be graduates from the nearby business school were making back of the envelop calculation on how many 'Murgis' are killed in the twin-cities every day, a calculation which had become a tradition, having been done by every college group for generations.In the streets, families were haggling, trying their best to save their precious money from the street hawkers - so that it could be better donated to the poor undernourished cola companies.

The two balloon vendors had long since accepted each others competition. The urchin seemed to be all of 12 years old and the old man more like 120. They seemed to have an understanding of standing 8 feet apart and never poached on each others clientele. The boy sold his 'heart balloon' to the odd teenager who was eager but unimaginative in expressing his feelings. The boy was clever and realized that he could sell his balloons at a premium to the love lorn. The old man was all too content going the traditional way and selling his wares to the parents of bratty kids.

It could have been the cruel summer or even the fact that the theatre nearby was screening the latest blockbuster and near empty; There was not a single love struck couple in the street that evening. Children were in full supply though, tugging their parents like a Maruti 800 pulling a broken-down Amby. The old man was looking forward to finishing early and returning to his non-home. It was always a pleasure to go home with an empty staff - void of balloons which always burst at night spoiling his sleep.

To his delight, a rather tired looking lady with an army of lollipop sucking 'baby sat' was headed his way, the army chanting for his wares. The old man was trying hard to conceal his pan stained teeth, but just couldnt stop grinning.

The army camped around the old man, and the distressed matron was fishing through her purse while making a mental note to never again volunteer to take the kids out so that the family could relax. The transaction was about to complete, just as the old man was handing over the bunch of balloons, his young competitor 'accidentally' chased a mongrel at the old man and the army.

The crowd at the biryani joint could hear the balloons burst as the staff fell to the ground - a 21 gun salute for some phantom dignitary. The urchin was smiling from ear to ear, not just from the success of his plan but because the movie in the nearby theatre seemed to have ended. And young couples seemeed to be hovering around like locusts.

Shil Chaterjee had been planning this for about a month now. Not that he didnt have prior experience - but proposing to his 'latest' girlfriend was something he was looking forward opened doors. A huge buch of 'heart balloons' along with the poem that his confidante had written in exchange for two beers usually did the trick.

In a matter of minutes - fortunes had reversed. The urchin was all set to go home with enough money to buy him a decent dinner.

Suddenly a gust of wind blew - carrying with it pebbles from the nearby construction site. Another gun salute! A smile reversed!

The crowd had finished its Biryani, but were busy witnessing this drama. Everyone applauded the justice metted out and went home happy at the thought of some supreme power which balances injustice.

That night, the urchin slept on the pavement accompanied by the old man and the rest of the homeless...hungry again.