Desicritics Author: The Shiva

Twitter and Relationships

The Shiva — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 08:23:03 EDT

An imaginary twitter feed and some people at the end of it....and yes for the uninitiated - @ID is usually a reply to the person with the ID

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Cosmicnonsense: I dont have da hat I wore yday, dunno where i left it.

Prudentchild: She says I have no sense of humor, what a shame, I thought i was funny.

Idioticmaze: @Cosmicnonsense da hat is in da house

Sportsbugger: Saints rule!! Yippee

Anywherebuthere: I wore too much cologne, I'm scaring people off now

Indianrider: Maybe it wasnt meant to be, is there such a thing as fate?

Weirdnwired: @Prudentchild I thought you were funny..LOL

NiceHair: @Sportsbugger How could you? You told me you wouldnt bring religion into our relationship.

Cosmicnonsense: @Idioticmaze You trying to be funny, I should have never taken you home. Now gimme my hat

Prudentchild: @Weirdnwired U heard my jokes? and thought they were funny? I'm dating the wrong chick.

kwalityicecream: @Indianrider yes fate is awesome, I saw mine change in a minute, u should give http://enlargeurepenis.com a shot

Nightnday: @Anywherebuthere Its not the cologne. Its just you.

Idioticmaze: @Cosmicnonsense you get ure hat when u tell the world what a real a$$hole u really r...tweet that

Niceguy: Hello everyone, I am a nice guy, is there a place for me here?

Sportsbugger: @Nicehair da Saints did win today!...which religion are you talking about? NFL? LOL

Anywherebuthere: @Nightnday Ya ure the one to talk, btw ure not even in the room, idiot

Indianrider: @kwalityicecream is that you Charlie?

Weirdnwired: @Prudentchild I'm a guy here, sorry

Niceguy: Anyone help a nice guy in relationship advice please?

Cosmicnonsense: @Idioticmaze keep the hat u dumb whatever, lets see u make a buck on that

Prudentchild: @Weirdnwired Ah, that explains why u get my jokes. u watching da game now?

kwalityicecream: @Indianrider who's charlie, this is cheryl

Nightnday: @Anywherebuthere I dont need to be there..LOLOLOL

Niceguy: What are these people talking about, how come noone helps niceguys in all this

Cosmicnonsense: @Niceguy dude prob ure in the wrong place, noones nice, change ure nick to Blingbling, ull get ure response...:)

Niceguy: @Cosmicnonsense that makes sense. I will do that, danke

Idioticmaze: @Cosmicnonsense I have ure wallet too, moron

Nicehair: @Sportsbugger Dont make fun of my religion, btw the NFL is just stupid and degrading to women

Cosmicnonsense: @Idioticmaze now thats a new low even for u, but as it happens to be, i usually have nothing in my wallet..:P

Blingbling: wassup y'all

girl1girl2: @Blingbling hey there

Blingbling: @Cosmicnonsense it works THANKS!!

Cosmicnonsense: @Blingbling NP...but remember..never hand over the wallet or ure hat

Idioticmaze: @Blingbling and if u do, pls keep ACTUAL money in it

Blingbling: @Idioticmaze uh...I'll try..btw ...How U doin?

Cosmicnonsense: @Blingbling dude, she aint worth the trouble

Idioticmaze: @Blingbling I'm doin fine..:)

The Starbucks Syndrome

The Shiva — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 09:01:10 EDT

I once read in a magazine article that there were 20,000 ways of ordering beverages in a Starbucks. And this was in 2006. I didn’t roll my eyes on that one, neither did I think that the article was being dishonest. Well, the world does have a lot of weird stuff happening, I just added this to that list. But you know that corner of your mind where the most useless of information resides, this factoid found its way there. So, ever since then, each time I visit a Starbucks I somehow keep track of an imaginary number of how many different types of drinks I’ve had there, with the hope that some day Ill be able to verify the validity of that factoid. (If there was a show on the Travel channel called “The ultimate useless pursuits”, I’m sure this would be one.)

Which brings me to the real question of the day, how bad a Starbucks fan do you have to be to get close to that number? But to answer that would be to accept that there does exist this group of people (and some dogs) who like being called the ultimate Starbucks “fan”.

Now you see them all over the place (an easier group to spot as compared to Smokers, Boy Band fans, Scientologists and probably all three combined.) From my empirical calculations they usually fall in 3 categories (for lack of a better grouping system)

1. Tall (includes short people)

2. Grande (no, doesn’t come with a blowhorn)

3. Venti (the people I’d bank on for the magic 20K number)

So let us start with the “Tall” ones. Most of them confess to liking the place but not being overly obsessed with brand loyalty, give them a “Peet’s” and they’ll do just fine. Many in this group would just wander into a Starbucks, know the three types of coffee--usually a Tall Cappucino, Tall Café Latte (not just latte) and a Venti Regular coffee with room for cream and sugar (never quite knew the point of this, its like making your own pizza) and maybe every once in a while a Chai Latte. At times they order a tea and are left wide-eyed when handed a cup of hot water and a bag. Take them to Pete’s and they will need sometime to recalibrate to the sizes but usually manage to get the drink of their choice without a lot of fuss. I don’t think I’d bet on them to get anywhere near 20 different types of drinks, forget 20,000.

The “Grande” ones, well, a little more well versed with the beverages they know would turn some heads. More open to experimenting with the sizes of their lattes, might order a coffee cake once in a while and will reluctantly enter a “Pete’s” if they cant find a Starbucks in the mall (really?) A few of them would graduate to the ultimate “Venti” club provided they already spend more on coffee and the likes than say bread and milk at home. Usually people with no kids, or if they do have kids, love their coffee more than their kids.

And then we finally have the Ultimate group, the “Venti”s . These brave warriors swear by the brand like the three 50 yr old I saw dancing at a Floyd cover concert (that’s a separate discussion.) They own paraphernalia of all sorts from mugs to the grinder, have visited the first Starbucks store in Seattle like it was a holy shrine, have a Starbucks Duetto credit card and think they belong to an entitled club when they buy free coffee using starbucks points (only to later realize the APR rates on those cards are twice as high as the rest of the cards and that they could have bought four additional drinks if they just paid with cash; American dream?) They would also have a flavor combination list, their drinks would have more than 3 requirements (skim milk, extra hot, vanilla flavored) and they would prefer to study, hold business meetings, lunches, dates (and even some weddings) at their local Starbucks rather than any other place that would be more appropriate. They know that Tuesdays offer a wonderful free download of “1” song ( that no one has heard of) on Itunes, heck they even buy water there. Now that’s the group I bank on to get to that magic number.

The problem with this final group (like any other fan club) is that they graduate in search of more authentic coffee places either because they have to wait in line while the Talls and the Grandes figure out what they want (they should have a separate line for frequent drinkers) or they go all crazy in the head (maybe from all the caffeine they’ve been drinking) and join the Anti-Corporate America club and start hating anything that’s “Too Big” (Microsoft anyone?)

Supernovas do tend to burn out, but the big question here is, do they burn out after 20,000.

That’s what I’d like to know.

P.S. Isnt that a lot of drinks to consume over a lifetime? Is anyone keeping count of how many café drinks a normal coffee drinker (No Venti/Grande) has over a lifetime? I’d like to read that in an article someday.

Forgotten Voices

The Shiva — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 16:13:03 EDT

In the immediate aftermath of the events of 26/11 in Mumbai, we all heard a million voices, an outpour of grief, rage and shock through many different sources. For its part Technology and the media stepped in as well. This was the age of twittering or tweeting, they said, and we all were amazed at how easily we knew so much without having to look too far. News had reached a new frontier, one that we had never seen before. It was as momentous as CNN's coverage of Iraqi Scuds hitting Kuwait in August of 1990, as fleeting as the concrete rubble through the streets of NY that fateful day of 9/11.

You would think something had changed right? I mean, with all this immediacy we should be in a position to do more to make people's lives better, to help our friends in distress. And we have. I think the world is more cohesive now than ever before, though the dark spots still remain. But the human condition is still the same right? Pain always is pain, and so is grief.Some voices are almost always forgotten. Except when people really want to make the change.

I know many people who said a lot of different things, the weeks after 26/11. From boycotting things to actual picking up a fight with some of them, from going out raising funds for the families of those affected to providing more information on the missing, I came across this wide spectrum of initiatives from people, some which fizzled out within a week, some that made their actions count.

One such effort came from a friend of mine, he wanted to raise funds for the families of the Police constables and Armymen who lost their lives or were incapacitated after the attacks, because usually the lower you are on the rungs of Indian bureaucracy, the chances are, you are usually forgotten. I just contributed to his effort but was really interested in knowing how he was going to do this and what the feedback would be. It took Krishna three months but surprisingly enough I received an email from him with the details of his endeavour. Most of the stories are personal, touching and show you that probably time is the only healer in all this.

These are some of the stories,

1. Shri Sudhir Marolia, fire fighter (Fractured his leg): Sudhir is a fire fighter attached to Bandra Fire brigade.On 28th Nov,in the Taj Mahal hotel, when the encounter was on, a hand grenade was thrown on the fire men while trying to save people from Taj. While trying to save himself from the grenade, he twisted his ankle. He was immediately taken to a hospital where an X-ray report seemed to be normal. He was told, it was just a sprain. This incident happened at around 6.30PM. He was then taken to his office (Bandra fire brigade) where he was still crying with pain, but his seniors ignored saying it was just a sprain. Later when he complained of persisting pain to his immediate senior and requested for an ambulance, he was denied stating that all vehicles are in operational in Taj and that he will need to wait. He had to wait till 2.30Am (29th Nov) till his reliever had come . Then he took rest till 5.00 Am and then he finally had to take a rickshaw back home.

Please note he earns only 8000 rupees (160 dollars) a month and has a wife and 2 children to support.

The Fire men in India aren’t provided a mediclaim insurance policy. They get a risk allowance of Rs.50 per month which has now been increased to Rs.500 after 26/11 attacks. The family was extremely in need of money and when a cheque was given to them (through the iniative) they were very happy and said they felt happy about the fact that even a common man thinks about them.

2. Shri ML Choudhari, Police Head constable attached to Railway police in CST station (He died in the CST firing):

The team met Smt Snehalata Murlidhar Choudhari' wife of 'Shri ML Choudhari' at their Ambarnath residence. They have a daughter 'Ms Priyanka' who is a B.com graduate and wants to do her MBA now. She has now been offered a job at Saraswat Co-op bank. They have a son, Devesh who is in 9th std. The team spoke to 'Smt Snehalata Murlidhar Choudhari' almost for 1/2 hr. She was saying about how they came to know about this.

Normally Shri ML Choudhari would come home by 1.15 AM when he is on 2nd shift. On 26th Nov also, he was on 2nd shift and his duty was about to end in 1 hr when the firing took place and he had to stay back. When it was around 1.30 she got tensed and called up on his mobile. She was not aware of the firing at CST station. Her husband's colleague picked up the phone and informed her about the incident. She initially thought that it could have been a prank and thought she might have probably dialed a wrong number. Again she called up on her husband's mobile and then she was asked to come to CST station immediately. She still could not believe it and she thought that it could have been a prank by one of the robbers who might have caught her husband for few bucks at Ambernath station since it was late in the night . She informed the person to please take the mobile and money and whatever he wants and leave her husband. The colleague replied he wasn’t playing any prank and asked her to switch on the TV. That was when she came to know of the whole incident.

On the fateful night , he died along with his Senior Shri.Shashank Shinde after Kasab and Ismail Khan fired indiscriminately at CST station.

3. Gajendra Singh, NSG Commando (Died Smt Vineeta Devi, wife of martyr 'Shri Gajendra Singh' . The cheque has been sent through registered post to Army headquarters , South block, Delhi. I was liaising with Col Rawat who gave me all details of the family. He suggested that if I send a crossed cheque in favour his wife is sent to them, they will arrange to send it to his wife. Accordingly this has been done. Col Rawat also said, they are trying for a job for Smt Vineeta Devi in the Uttarakhand government. He also said , Shri Gajendra Singh's brother who is a driver with Police dept, is also having some dispute with the money. Hence Col Rawat has taken this responsibility of sending this cheque.

A little background about Gajendra Singh’s family :

It’s sad to say that, the last time Shri Gajendra Singh went home was on 15th Aug 2008, when his father died. And then it was on 26/11 when his dead body reached home. It seems Smt Vineeta Devi didn’t know about the operation as Gajendra Singh told her that he was in Delhi. But he was actually sent to Mumbai for this deadly operation.

Since childhood , he always had a dream to join to the army and he himself opted to join the NSG. He has 2 kids: Daughter, Preeti who is 10 years old and son, Gaurav who is 11 years old.

6. Arun Chitte : A cheque was Rs.25,000/- was issued to his wife 'Manisha Chitte' who has 3 daughters : Komal, studying in 3rd Std., Snehal, studying in 3rd Std and Kushi, who is in Nursery. The family lives in Mhada colony in Dharavi and owns 2 houses in that same building. She was offered a job in Police but she refused. Now that job has been given to Arun's brother. Also Manisha's brother has also been offered a job at Saraswat Co-Op bank. Arun had been working as driver for encounter specialist Mr. Vijay Salaskar for almost 10 years. He had been with him for almost all the encounters. Like his boss, he also never had any bad habits like smoking or drinking.

After our conversation with Manisha and her brother, we saw that she was confident of bringing up her kids.

7. Balasaheb Bhosale: : Rs.10,000/- .Asst Sub Inpector Balasaheb Bhosale was also killed in the 26 / 11 attacks. He is survived by his wife 'Sharda Bhosale' to whom we gave a cheque of Rs.10,000/- at their Naigaon police quarters residence and 2 sons ,Deepak, who is attached to Naigaon police station and another son, Sachin who has been offered a job in Mantralaya .

8. Vijay Khandekar : Constable Vijay Khandekar was attached to Azad Maidan police station. We managed to meet his wife 'Shradha Khandekar' at her Nagpada residence in police quarters. She refused to take donations since she said she was financially stable and wanted us to help others who are in need of it. So no donations were made to his family. Last week also 'Vijay's' name had hit the headlines. The Indian government had forgotten his sacrifice to our country and his name was listed in the Police routine transfer list.

Rahul Shinde: Rs. 25,000/-.Rahul Shinde is a constable attached to SRPF division in Solapur. Rahul was single and youngest in his family. His elder brother has been offered a job in Taj Hotel in Mumbai but his mom doesn’t want him go to Mumbai because she is extremely scared and doesn’t want to come to Mumbai. So he has refused this job. Rahul’s family lives in a small village in Sultanpur district in Solapur. Their source of income is farming. The team sent a cheque of Rs.25,000/- to his father registered post .

Shri Prakash More: Rs.10,000/- .The cheque was issued in name of his wife Mrs. Madhavi Prakash More. Shri Prakash More's eldest son 'Pratik' is studying FY Engineering from a college in Dombivali and his daughter, Anushka is studying in 8th std. Mrs. Madhavi Prakash More is working with a bank. She was away at work when the team had gone to their house. The cheque was handed over to Pratik in front of their neighbour as a witness at their Mulund residence.

Shri Tukaram Ombale: : Rs.10,000/- . The cheque was handed over to his wife 'Tarabai Tukaram Omble' . When the team went to his house, they got a chance to speak to his wife and his family friend . He has 4 daughters. 2 of them are married. The other 2 daughters are Vaishali, studying BA B 'ED and Bharati, studying TYBA. As they entered his house, next to his photo they saw the Ashok Chakra' which was given to him on 26th Jan 2009. It was because of Shri Omble that the cops were able to nab Kasab alive.

12. Jaywant Patil : Rs. 100,000/- .He studied till 12th Std. He then joined police force and had served for 17 years. While in the police force, he did his graduation by joining a night college in Bhandup. He was the trusted body guard of Shri Ashok Kamte (Asst Commissioner of Police, Chembur Zone) who also lost his life on the fateful night.

The terrorists had pumped 18 bullets into his body. He is survived by his wife 'Pratibha Jaywant Patil' and 2 cute kids, Esha, who is studying in 1st std in St Xaviers school in Bhandup and a 4 month old baby named 'Shaurya'. His naming ceremony took place just few days before this attack. Since now she is alone with her kids, her parents have come from Satara to stay with her. They will be moving back to Satara very soon.

13. Ambadas Pawar : Rs. 25,000/- . He is survived by his wife 'Kalpana Pawar' and 1 1/2 yr old kid named Vivek. They have been given a 2 BHK flat in Mhada colony in Sion - Koliwada where they have already shifted.

Spoke to Ambadas Pawar’s brother, father and mother. They are also currently staying with her in the new flat. They said they have also been allotted a petrol pump and Shri Ambadas's wife has been given a job in Saraswat Co Op bank .

Shri Ambadas Pawar was also in the same jeep in which Ashok Kamte, Hemant Karkare, Jaywant Patil were killed.

14. Mukesh Jhadav : Rs. 25,000/- . He is survived by 4 brothers, father and mother. He was the 3rd son. The 2nd son has been offered a job in Railways at Kalyan station. They have also been allotted a 2 BHK Mhada flat in Sion Koliwada.

15. Shri Bapurao Dhurdagde: Rs. 50,000/- given to the Shri Bapurao Dhurdagde's family at their Sewri residence. They live in a chawl-type constable level police quarters above Sewri Police station in Reay Road. Krishna personally met his wife and handed over the cheque to her. He has 2 daughters & 1 son. Eldest daughter is doing Computer Science from BVP college, Nerul and other daughter in engineering. Son is doing chemical engineering. I spoke to their eldest daughter. She appreciated our gesture to help the family. Mom didn’t speak much. She was still in a state of shock. She just came out to sign the acknowledgement and was silent.

Where is The Line?

The Shiva — Sun, 14 Dec 2008 23:22:39 EST

OK, let me rephrase. Is there even a line. How should you react to these ghastly incidents that scar not only your psyche but also drive down that a deep hatred which seems to erupt in anonymity? What happened in Mumbai not only leaves us with questions about the relevance of Pakistan in our lives (as Indians) but also the relevance of the normal day Pakistani that you might bump into on the street. Why is there a shadow version of ourselves that tends to bring out the worst in us when hidden in a mob or a group, but as individuals we tend to think differently. I'm sure there must have been a million social experiments done to study this, but why is there no perfect solution to deal with this problem?

I've read and reread many articles on how to hurt Pakistan into waking up to reality without actually firing a single shot, the sort of Cold-War tactics used by the US to hurt a country where it really matters, economically, culturally or even psychologically. But the thing that's different with the Pakis is this deep rooted feeling of brotherhood some of us Indians feel in times of relative peace with our neighbor. I don't think its a religion thing, its more to do with us wanting to take a higher moral stand, of always wanting to be in peace even during times of pain, of utmost restraint, the same restraint that our Government keeps reminding us, the same restraint the Western World urges us to show. But is the price of restraint worth it?

These questions are meant to be asked because for some of us who arent in the crowd, the anger or restraint we show happens more at a personal level. I've had all these questions running through my mind, because as an Indian in the US, I feel the anger and yet I feel anonymous to the cause. How should I react? Should I even react? The day after the happenings in Mumbai, I was in a cab driven by yes, a Paki. I was with my colleagues, each one with their own immigrant stories but I couldnt expect them to understand how it made me feel sitting in that cab. I sat next to the driver, while he started talking to me about Bollywood and how Abhishek Bachchan and Aishwarya Rai were in his cab when they visited the city. I just smiled and said nothing, when inside me, all I could feel was the rage of being there. I knew my anger had nothing to do with him as a person, he was just a guy like me, trying to find his way through life. But all I could think of were the dollars I was going to pay him, which would in turn find its way to Pakistan maybe as a family remittance, and who knows might end up in the hands of the same group that sent people to destroy my brethren. After all they are all charities right? Maybe I was being simplistic about the whole thing, or maybe I wasn't.

These thoughts made my head spin that I had to ask my colleague for an aspirin in the car. She didn't have one, and so what happens next, yes you must have guessed it, Mr. Cabbie hands over a couple of aspirins and asks me to have it. I didnt know whether to feel relieved or even angrier. I just took the escapist route and fell asleep. The next day I left the hotel room, prepared for my presentation and guess what, my client was a Pakistani. I again, didn't know what to do. I had to be professional obviously, so I just kept it that way. No small talk, but we could feel the tension. What made the equation a bit skewed was us being three Indians to him being one. I couldn't find that surprising though, there are after all a billion of us in this world.

Though I always wonder what goes on inside the head of a Pakistani soon after these incidents. ( they do happen pretty often) there is one thing I have realized though with my countless experiences with my neighbors. One-on-One they are probably the nicest people in the world. Its when they become bigger than a group of 20, that you start hearing the commentary. In any case we went out for lunch which was more or less in silence except for one colleague of mine who was Chinese and couldn't help himself from talking. Though at some point, my Pakistani client did mention that his wife was from India. I again didnt know what to say. I just said, Great.

Great? Who says that.

Some of these questions do have answers. Like the way my friends decided not to go to a Pakistani owned theatre or a restaurant. Maybe it doesn't matter to the business, but it did matter as a set of principles for them. Like the way, my friend decided against buying a pair of gloves though they were perfect, just because they were made in Pakistan. Would it ever add up, I asked them. They said, they didn't care. Its the same petro-dollar argument new energy advocates use here. Less money for the Saudis, less money to blow us up.

They say you cant generalize. Not everyone belongs to the same mob. But isnt the reason we got to this point because we never had a coherent policy on what we should do. We need not hate, but do we need to love? Why shoot ourselves in the foot when almost 100,000 Indian soldiers have died in the Kashmir conflict and yet Atif Aslam signs record deals with Indian music companies. Yes, he didn't kill anyone and yes the soldiers may not have been killed by Pakistanis ( Afghans and Kashmiris also fought in that insurgency) but isn't it better to solve the leakage through one hole before opening up more taps? And note that I haven't even started talking about the religion aspect of this entire conflict.

In the end, I think, all of us are just trying to find our way out for ourselves. So that we need not be the ones making that crucial decision whether to cut the umbilical cord or not. In essence though, I think Pakistan has already done so, a long time ago.

That Saturday night, I ended up thinking what my friends said, on my long drive home through the rainy streets of San Jose. Each one made a passionate argument, not on how to deal with this situation, but how they would deal with a normal day Pakistani. To me, it sounded idealistic, because of my own recent interactions. But they made their case and said they would stand by it. I though could only see two sets of images in front of my eyes. One of the chaos on the streets of the city I would swear by any day and the other of me walking away from the cab, the minute I found out. The problem though, was, one happened and the other didn't.

Living An Unconstrained Life

The Shiva — Fri, 7 Sep 2007 02:17:03 EDT

The sound of the waves as they hit the rocks was probably the only thing that we could hear for miles. A foggy drive along California's northern coast in the twilight zone was the closest I've been to complete peace in a long time. When you keep driving as you attempt to leave the world you know behind, its exactly those thoughts that fill your mind again.

If the absence of light is darkness, then what is the absence of darkness?

It sure isn't light.

I work with numbers, with money, with bits, with ones and zeroes. Some can be big, some as tiny as the tenth of a percent. Most people begin to wonder, so whats the big deal, you add a one and you subtract a 10, you will get an answer.

The only tricky part is to get the right answer.

I work with optimization. For people unfamiliar with how optimization works, think of it as trying to solve an equation, find that one unique combination of variables that finally gives you the right answer and also are right themselves.

Which is what you have constraints for. Value 'A' cannot be greater than 10 and Value 'B' must always be decreasing for each run. Within the space of these constraints you have to find the best possible answer for your equation.

It need not be the right one. It just has to be closest to the right one. The only one possible.

Now every once in a while, I get frustrated with the process. Why go through the whole chicanery of trying to find something better when what you have is although not the exact right answer but close to it.

Why that additional effort?

John says because nothing else is right. Except for that one solution closest to the right one.

I've been here a few months and I've seen John work harder than many people in my earlier company put together. It has to be right, he says. I try to keep pace.

The effort he puts to get the constraints working and get everything else right cannot be believed unless seen.

But over lunch when he tells me about his life, on how he worked for his Ph.D., or how he has four kids, one girl and three boys and how he went through his divorce six years ago and when he tells me about his ex-wife, I just cannot help wondering how someone who can be passionate about the constraints in a math problem, can't control the constraints in his own life.

Or maybe its just an American thing, where life has to be experimented with absolutely no constraints, something that surprises and scares me a bit. He is possibly 45, now has a German girl friend and goes plays the piano every Wednesday at a club. He also tells me his daughter is now in Medical School, and what inspired her was working with the peace corps in Guatemala where she met and lived in with a doctor for a year (Indian, he notes, looking at me) and how they broke off soon after.

All constraints have gone to the dogs.

Which is something I don't think is worth comproming for me in real life. I dont really bother over a math problem. This is real life, not some joke. The effort you put in to make things work here, within the constraints of whats possible is what gets you to that perfect solution.

and I dont think you need a Ph.D. to understand that. All you need to be is sane.

Solving the World's Problems Through Soccer

The Shiva — Mon, 30 Jul 2007 05:55:51 EDT

It is impressive the way a war-torn nation can find itself once again, in the actions of 20-odd guys playing futbal in a faraway land. These are more like fairytales for guys, believable because they happened, surreal because they happened against these odds.

And the best part is, they keep on happening.

When the Ivory Coast played in the world cup last year, not many knew that the country had been in the middle of a civil war for over five years and what politics couldnt achieve, sports finally did. This article gives you a picture of how powerful the sport can actually be, when it comes to dealing with crisis or when it comes to just entertaining you.

So, when Iraq won the Asian cup last night, it didnt seem too much out of the ordinary, but did feel amazingly nice to hear a good story come out of Iraq. This team had defeated three time Asian Cup champs, Saudi Arabia, with a solitary goal seperating the two teams and more importantly with a team of disaffected young war-torn guys being coached by a Brazilian with a two month contract.

When the game finished and the team ran around the whole stadium not believing what it had just achieved, the Iraqi captain came out and said something that we all hear resonate deep inside.

"I want America to go out," he said. "Today, tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, but out. I wish the American people didn't invade Iraq and hopefully it will be over soon."

Sad, but I dont think anyone in DC is going to hear him.

Maybe thats because the U.S. doesn't appreciate the world's favorite game for what it is, ultimate diplomacy in 90 minutes.

(P.S. Beckham... please change this....)

Shall We Tell The President?

The Shiva — Sun, 22 Jul 2007 00:34:26 EDT

Those were the days of Jeffrey Archer's glory,but then as we all know, he didn't get very far.In fact he did end up behind bars and all because he lied when he kept a diary that said otherwise (duh, he's a writer...)

Anyway coming closer to home; So there ends the days when the President used to be a man of stature. Now we just elect stupid Presidents. (Not to sound too chauvinistic)

How on earth did Pratibha Patil get to be President?

I mean even though the post is just a plastic smile, signing bills and hands shaking one, I'm sure there were millions of men and women in the country who had the dignity completely absent with this one and who could have done a much better job than this one would ever. Or maybe I'm just getting riled up because Dr. Kalam set such high standards of intelligence and duty, it was always going to be a tough act to beat. So, might as well slip a dud in between.

Nice thinking Sonia.

It also shows how Sonia can basically do whatever she wants and get away with it. Man, do you even imagine what that sort of power can do to your soul? A billion people in your hands. Its dizzying enough speaking about it.

Well to offer some solace is the fact that thank goodness the post is just a rubber stamp ( if you want it to be one) and the President, although Commander in Chief of the armed forces (Pratibha Patil has probably used a knife in her lifetime; I am just highlighting her past experience with things closest to weapons - NOT being MCPish) is at least not the executive branch of government.

So if the US can elect someone as empty as Bush and have a tough time getting away with murder, you can understand the potential damage she could have caused to our already mixed reviews in the world.

But then words sometimes speak louder than actions (usually it's the other way around) So for all the Purdah, Baba, Bank and Murder allegations about Pratibha Patil, one thing is for certain. We're going to have a fun ride reading about her in the days to come.

If only we could tell her, or tell the president, speak up and be heard.

The people are listening.

The Unknown Future

The Shiva — Tue, 29 May 2007 04:27:55 EDT

A seed in the ground. A flame in the darkness. A hand outstretched. A child in the womb. Hope starts small and overtakes us, stretching the borders of what we have known.

It beckons us to step out with the belief that the action we take will not only bear fruit but that in taking it, we have already made a difference in the world.
-Jan Richardson, Night Vision

3.09...3.24.....3.47 - as I fill gas in my car, it strikes me that the possibilities of the future might just be linked to our way of life as a whole, not just in parts. This isn't a plugin that can just be tweaked, the n+1 th variant of the combustion engine. It's something bigger and different that what we have imagined till today. Can we live upto our own expectations before the world catches up?

The World is too much with us
-William Wordsworth.

In the beginning there was one, then a few, and then they all caught up. If you're talking about a pie or oil reserves, its always a fight to get the best piece. So, if the truth is so evident, why is the world so slow to move towards finding newer solutions. Or has science slowed down that no sustainable technology can replace the oil economy?

In any sphere of influence, the only way to stay ahead is to think and adapt to newer technologies before the others, to be an early adopter. I've had plenty of discussions with people around me about the risk of being an early adopter in any business, the investment choice might not work out well in the end, but if it did, the benefits are plenty. So how do you manage both these parameters, risk and benefits?

If you think any nation would be smart about these sort of choices, you would obviously look at India and the the telecom industry, and if we had stuck to the original path of laying land lines and cables, it would have taken us another five decades (five decades and we had reached nowhere) before getting anywhere worth being. The adoption of cellular technologies meant that a landmark decision could possibly change the lives of a billion people which could change the direction in which the entire world moved. The change in inertia.

So what if India took a stance on behalf of sustainable newer energy technologies? Could it be big enough to wean us all away from our oil addition? But then I don't think India would ever be an early adopter because the risks outweight the benefits for an emerging economy. So would China do it? From the way China has moved over the past two years, it's pretty evident that it has made its choice of sticking to an oil economy by courting the riskiest and slimiest of regimes all over the world. So there goes another billion and a half. So what's next?

Brazil has been working on ethanol based fuels for over two decades now, and has achieved a level of maturity with its usage, but now the question of social imbalance arises of how much land do you use for fuels and how much land for food?

Europe has now made a paradigm shift towards bio-fuels, having had its issues with Russia and a depleted North sea oil reserve. The UK will soon start being a net importer of oil as opposed to a net exporter today. So when it finally does come to staying ahead, how do you make the first move?

The answer finally boils down to what the US does. Not because it holds any leverage on the political environments but because it consumes so much that any change could be momentous.

The debate has surely started, which is always a good sign. But any change will take time, so do we have enough of it?

As countries make tough choices; geopolitics play out scenarios; and the future is played out in the mind a thousand times over, you will find yourself holding that fuel pump in your hand wondering whether anyone out there is making the right choice or whether this is how our civilization ends.

I hope the choice is right.

An English, August Feeling In June

The Shiva — Sat, 28 Apr 2007 01:44:32 EDT

The weather today just reminded me of something I had written a while ago. A sort of 'Deja vu' moment I guess.

So here is the retro post,

It was a reasonably hot 90 degrees outside. I stared out of the window in my office for the eleventh time thinking the clouds would actually make a difference. They came together within a matter of minutes like an army of ants in a sugar bowl. Soon there wasn't an empty space in the sky and I felt even more lonely. Lonely by choice and lonely by chance.

"Yenna da vettiya?",asked a friend (Are you jobless?). A smiley answered back in the affirmative. I don't think any other emoticon could capture the train of thoughts running in my mind or the lack of it. It wasn't a crib notice, that fate brought me to unknown lands not of my choice, neither was it a depressive state of emptiness, and even more a longing feeling to be out there with people. It was just the view of the room and beyond.

The view of a picturesque park, with an unknown monument standing there would usually bring joy to peoples faces. I don't feel anything when I picture that. I see inertia, and see the wheels turn slowly dragging the heavy mass along with it. The caffeine adds to this hallucination and I just smile.

Not another morose tale. Not a story of succeeding against the odds or failing with it. Not about visually capturing life but excluding the meaning. Just about spending some time with myself. I took a chance with that.

It really was bright and sunny outside, with birds chirping and smiles all around. It almost felt that the room added its own set of emotions in my mind. Just like an oil spill in the ocean. I settled for a spot in the middle of the path leading up to my office. The seat seemed worn out but i think I chose it for the shade the pine behind it provided. How hard is it not to be hustled?

Like we've heard a million times before, you constantly are surrounded with people who want to go somewhere, who want to get something, and this race is just exhausting. The thing about this running is its all over your face, and messy. People just come in, blow their brains off about things they might have caught in the evening news, and on how everything in life boils down to how much money you have. I agree till a point, you need the green. The green however isn't the reason of your existence.

I sank into the seat and oblivious to most people who passed by me, I started observing life as a work of art. The expressions, the uncanny gestures, the cappuccino all pointed to a goal. Communication was getting more about the intent rather than the use of words as an art. I thought is it just me or is life getting that mundane that you use your cell phone as a location guiding instrument to people who already know where you are?

All these questions, till she came.

I didn't notice her, but she seemed to know me from somewhere. and as most cases go, you usually go with the flow trying to use every context of communication as a means to understand your first situation of contact.

I think i might have met her at some friends place. The face looked reasonably familiar, but I don't have a thing for faces, and usually for faces just seen once. I greeted her and was probably stuck in a situation that I really did not like. I wanted to be alone. I just wanted to be alone and as the hundreds of experiences go, I also didn't want to be alone. I just feel this way and once its over, I like to take refuge in the regret that pours down. Why didn't I talk? Why didn't I sit there? Why did I do whatever it is that I did?

She noticed that my mind was somewhere else and thought I really was doing something and didn't want to disturbed. Ya you could say that, I was busy watching a bunch of sparrows fight for a piece of popcorn.

"I'm on a coffee break", she said. I smiled searching for more questions to ask. "So you like spending a buck on coffee when you can get one for free at the office? " yup, thats what i said. She rolled her eyes, like someone already asked her that," no this is tea and yes i paid a buck for it. They don't have tea in my office."

I nodded to be polite, because it really didn't make any difference what she drank. Was this a disease?? Am I a claustrophobic jerk or was I just sadistic complaining that nothing interesting ever happened to me.

"Don't these walkways remind you of human highways where people just are in a rush to get someplace. Its like the rules observed for driving are effortlessly followed over here, the slower ones stick the right of the path, the speeding ones on the left. It almost looks like a huge human mass was on a move, and all we needed were headlights and this would have been US-59...."

I didn't know how to respond. I looked at the people, they did seem pretty organized. It did remind me of a freeway concept. It did make sense. I looked back at her and smiled in the affirmative. "Yes, thats true. But I wonder did the rules from driving apply here or the other way around."

"Does it matter how they are applied?"

"Hmm...I dont think so, unless you were studying evolution."

"So you think we started at evolution."

"No, havent a clue about that. But we sure are going where evolution leads us."

"True, we are evolving in many ways, in fact many more ways unknown to us. Our conscience evolves, we choose to stop the change, and feel sad that nothing important ever happens to us."

Wow...was that her speaking. I just turned my attention to the slightest of insecurities she managed to reveal. She started nibbling at the cup, almost like she didn't like what she just said.

"So, I get from what you say, you don't like change."

"Who does?"

"I think people do if they knew what they were getting into."

"Thats a personal statement. I think people in general are cowards, and only a few manage to be less of cowards than most. Those are the brave."

I didn't want to get sucked into all the neghead talk. Surprising how other people make you feel bad or good about yourself.

"I don't think too much about all that. I mean there used to be a time when I did, but now i feel there is always a cause effect system in place, so we react. No point blaming anyone about why they did something or not. Sometimes its the best laid plans, sometimes its just a bad rash reaction. Ultimately we get drawn into some other game, so we keep playing till we drop down dead. Game over."

"Haahaa...that is simplifying existence to a Video Game."

"Not just any game, a PS2 game....imagine whoever came up with the catch phrase, Live in your world, Play in ours...."

"So I come to understand that you own a PS2."

"No prizes for guessing that."

"Ya, i wasn't expecting any."

"So, I guess you study here." In what seemed to be my first attempt at knowing who she was.

"How does it matter? I could say anything and get away with it. Would it change anything?"

"OMG, Hazaar sorry yaar, I was just trying to make conversation. Don't read too much into nothing."

"Yes I do study here. Which should explain why im drinking tea on a pathway in the middle of the afternoon trying to escape from the reality that shrouds me inside that building."

She turned to the building and said, "Doesn't that look like a black box, holding up all possible secrets that anyone may have. I just want to break it once."

"Haahaa, yes it does look like a black box because its highly overcast, might rain anytime, and the building is painted...er...black.."

"I was speaking figuratively."

"I got that. I was being prudent."

We both smiled.

A drop fell on my nose, just between my eyes. I felt alive. It started raining in almost like a 180 degree shift from what the weather had been an hour ago. My mood too was a little lighter than what it was an hour ago. I couldn't speak for hers as she got up from the seat.

"It is raining, you know. I think thats a sign to get back to work."

"Or a sign to get off work?"

"Haahaa, I don't know about you, but I have to earn my paycheck. They don't pay me for sitting and enjoying the rain."

"No one does, isn't that sad? The most beautiful moments of your life happen when it rains, and you live those moments worrying about a paycheck, that you would have earned at the cost of losing this."

"Thats life."

"Thats a choice."

"Thats being real."

"Thats a black box talking. and you wanted to break it once right?"

She smiled.

"Bye."

"Next time when it rains?"

"In August?"

"Ask the weatherman."

She left.

So I was once again sitting alone, but felt fine with how things were. The rain started pouring in, but I just sat there, getting drenched. I just didn't want to do anything else.

Just an English, August feeling in June.

The Virginia Tech Massacre

The Shiva — Tue, 17 Apr 2007 00:02:03 EDT

It's exactly eight years to the same week that the Columbine High School massacre took place - and today another 33 people were gunned down. Even though the reasons may be unknown, what's obvious is the presence of a gun. And what keeps the gun out there are all the fervent supporters of the Second Amendment: "The right to bear arms" it seems.

But oddly who thinks of the bill of rights when facing the wrong end of a .38mm? Though in reality there is no right end of it.

So why am I, a dormant desi, so bugged by this incident. Because I have had my own experiences facing a gun, and not for one second can I not imagine what would have happened if he would have pulled the trigger. Believe me it's scary.

There will be protests; the Supreme court will decide whether it wants to debate the gun ownership laws; the media will have its share of scary reports and a field day depending on which side of the aisle they own allegiance to.

Michael Moore will be out there making a new documentary which will win an Oscar; the NRA will issue releases that it doesn't support the illegal sale of guns, but it is still very necessary to own guns because the founding fathers had mentioned something in the constitution over 200 years ago.

John Cusack will come out with another version of a sequel to John Grisham's novel called The Runaway Jury Runs Again; Dick Cheney will shoot another aide while duck hunting. There will be mass mournings in every major city.

There will be some international concern and I can imagine in India, people during their coffee breaks would opine that the US is not safe when our own horrors just begin in Nithari. There will be annual vigils held for those who died; and soon everyone will choose to forget that the ill in American society lies not with ownership of guns, but the thought that everyone who owns one is responsible enough for it.

Some things don't change.

And yes, no one really cares; or else they would have done something about it a long time ago.