When Vanity demanded action

The dialogue that precedes our social outing is usually something like -

Me: enna ma, readya?

Sindhu (my wife): Yeah. Almost..

...which translates to

Grab a drink, check your Twitter and Gmail, while I come down in 20 minutes.

Recently, the dialogue has changed, with heavy accompaniment of grunts and groans, to:

Sindhu: onnum sariya illa. Nothing fits. ellaan dress'um tight aidthu!

Me: I know! I gotta lose weight too. I am sooo fat. *gasps of pain*... as I squeeze into clothes that appear to have shrunk over the months.

In a sad attempt to lift the spirits, Sindhu would nudge in,

S: Look you shouldn't complain okay. You look fine. It is me. I have to work out.

M: Aiya, no way. You look great!  (A quick nano-second mental word check wisely ruled out "you look fine" - incorrect; "you look okay" - worse; "you look alright" - pochu!). I am the one who needs to lose weight. Look at this thoppai and all. See! *poke finger into the fat guts to illustrate the point*

It irks when someone half your weight complains they gotta slim down. Somehow thin is never thin enough. Neither of us have been eating out much, and have managed to resist that extra spoon of Therattu Paal with Vennila Ice Cream or the extra dollops of Custard with warm Plum pudding, which only adds to the mystery surrounding the condition of shrinking clothes. Whether neither of us recall eating any less is a...well, lets not go there :)

Moving on.

Vanity demanded action. In addition to the daily jog/run, a diet of freshly squeezed juice, I decided, would be the magic solution. We had a brand new juice maker still in the box. One afternoon while Sindhu was asleep, I opened a bag of oranges and grapefruit. Peeling oranges and grapefruit is the most demanding job of the juice making process. Both fruits are strong contenders of "Thick-skinned bastard" title of fruit race. I'd back Grapefruit for the title because its a badass - it tastes like an angry tamarind on steroids.

The juicer was simple to assemble. I was excited as fresh juice and dramatic weight loss were just moments away. Images of orange being devoured by the juicer popped up in my head. I dropped a large chunk of orange down the chute and pressed the ON button...

...and watched in slow motion horror as thousands of fragments of orange pulp and juice flew across the kitchen spraying it 360 degrees. Thwack thwack thwack! A large lump of orange splattered against on my cheek, which shook me out of the freeze and total moment of blankness, I slammed the OFF button.

The kitchen and adjacent living room walls had a newly decorated coat of orange. The original plan of coffee and fresh juice had turned to custard thanks to me not fitting the juicer parts properly.

Sindhu woke up an hour later.

"I made some juice", I said.

"Yeahh. I can smell it. It smells oranges everywhere!"

"Lovely, la?", I said, spotting a lump of orange pulp hanging from the folds of our brand new living room curtain. Damn!

Viva la Vivāha

It is going to be a little more than two months since I've got married and I don't have a single post on the wedding stuff. Bad, no? Here are some salient points from the experience.

• The jee-i'm-actually-gonna-get-married feeling sunk in when Sindhu (my wife) & I started plan the look and layout of our wedding invitation. We had a simple design in mind and were particular on the colour, texture and feel of the invitation card & cover. Menaka, Eureka, Butterfly, Kalyani, Sankeshwara Papeir...it took a lot of running around to get what we wanted. We got there in the end.
• I totally relished the Maapla treatment at home. It is a super feeling of being the star of the show. You're lavished with attention from everyone. Want something? Just look up...and ten people will be hanging on to the word you say.
• Couple of days before the wedding, my brothers & I went for a grand beauty treatment to a men's parlour in Mandavali. I had the Groom's Special which had the full works - Diamond facial, bleach, scalp massage, haircut, manicure, pedicure etc. All this took the whole day! My brother found out how ticklish he's on his feet during his pedicure. He just couldn't sit still. The beauty trip was very relaxing and we were refreshed at the end of it.  Everything was great except that ghastly five-figure amount we got billed for their services. 
• My grand-dad had it. My dad had it. My uncle had it. My cousin had it too. But, more importantly, one Mr Kameshwaran from my favourite Thamizh movie had it. And I decided long time back I was gonna have it when it is my time. Janavasam. I had it. And I totally loved it.
• It was a typical Tambram wedding...peppered with the highs and extreme highs and thereof (emotionally speaking).
• People marry. Some re-marry. But you get married for the first time only once. Pah, wattey logic, you may say. The point is - when you do something which you can do only once, why not do it properly? I dug into my reserves of patience and cooperated with whatever rituals I had to do from my part. The motto was: Cooperate, don't kovama operate.
• Talking about doing things properly - the Sastrigal told us to NOT shake hands with anyone after Mangalya dharanam until he tells us to do so. "Nee avala mattum dhaan thodalaam. Vera yaaraiyum thoda pdaadhu. Purinjidhaa?" #haun. He informed the handshake ban to the audience through microphone. After the Thaali was tied, once the rain of akshadhai and flowers subsided, one Maama ignored the handshake ban and extended his hand with a megawatt smile only to be met with a huge NO from me. Not the one to be cowed away easily, Maama insisted again, the Sastrigal belted out a high decibel bark "Kozhandha correct-a kai kudukka maaten 'granono, yen padutharel! Apram vaango saar!". Got the nods of approval from junior sastrigals and the photographer.
• I got a candid photographer to cover the event. I closely followed some photographers who specialize in this and boy they are a creative bunch! Glad I had PV cover my wedding. Check out his work here.
• Panjakacham is an underrated men's garment. 
• My mum planned to put together a surprise video of me & Sindhu to be played after Janavasam. But poor thing was smashed for time with the wedding prep that she couldn't do much on apart from collating old photographs. She really wanted it to happen so I (with some help from my bro) made a video which was basically a time-line with photos from memorable stages/events in our life and some funny anecdotes thrown in. We played it after Janvaasam. Everybody loved it.
• Nalangu was a total riot. I sung this song. The family were in their element and reached resonant galaata frequency when I prompted them for chorus. I still wonder how they made me sing 3 songs (incl. a duet) compared to her two songs. I tell you, girls have this amazing ability to slither away from spotlight.
• We went to Seychelles for honeymoon.

Some changes happen gradually. Sometimes you acknowledge a change is taking place but you don't realise the change until a particular moment. During oonjal ceremony, I looked at the huge gathering of people around us. Before me were persons who were involved in my life in various degrees - like my 2nd standard Sanskrit teacher, cousins I used to play with, classmates, my aunts, my mum - people who were in some way from my birth, childhood, till that point in my marriage played a part in me being the person I am. Looking at them, I felt stock of the changes that has happened in my life. Its moments like these in my wedding and other moments that I am unable to put in words, but are imprinted in my mind far better than any HD camera can record, that made my wedding a happy and emotionally satisfying experience.

What's it like being Sachin

I got hold of Greg Chappell's autobiography, Fierce Focus, the other day. I skipped straight to the chapter that interested me the most - "Sourav and I". Ganguly-Chappell is easily the most talked about player-coach relationship in the game, so the chapter was an engrossing read and Chappell's account was frank and to the point. However, when I finished the chapter, one paragraph, no, one line, kept ringing in my head. It was a comment made by Sachin Tendulkar (marked below). 



Friends. He can probably count them on one hand. They say it's always lonely and cold on the top...how true! It's a curse of being the elite of the elitist. On one hand, he has a billion people who adore him; some name their kid after him; few even tattoo his autograph; he's the best in his field of work and probably has enough moolah for another 99 lifetime, but in reality what the man may actually yearn for is a normal life and a few more true friends.

Sigh. Such is life!


Aside:

I hope he gets that 100x100 monkey off his back in tomorrow's test at Bradman's hometown. He scored a ton last time India played a test at Adelaide. How fitting would it be if he does it again!

Go Sachin! :)

Alone in the cauldron. I took this pic when Sachin walked out to a standing ovation at the MCG on Day 2, Boxing Day Test 2011

Arranged Barriage

Once upon a time
there lived a young lad
Happy, carefree and full of beans
a free bird, by all means.

One day he turned twenty-six
his parents got into the mix
Life is a long long journey, they said
So Kanna its time you get ready to wed.

We'll find a nice girl,
Smartha, someone from Vadama
But please for Perumal's sake,
don't bring home a vellakaara kuttyma!

My son is 26 and 6-feet tall
he's well-educated, brainy and all.
They said it to one, two, many...
Jee..they wrote it even in Tamil Matrimony.

They received a dozen requests
and sent as many,
in the hope of finding their dear
a cute adorable Kanmani.

We like your son's profile,
lakshanama irukaar!
but sorry our daughter doesn't want
a faarin aathukaar.

Still, Jadagams came in
the Josiyer checked for a match.
Nothing much happened
but for the occasional catch.

Inga paarungo, indha varan nanna iruku
This girl is just right!
A chat was quickly organised
via the blimming Skype.

They looked at each other,
one thing was certain.
An invisible wall was between them
with an infinite dielectric constant.

There was, you know,
no freakin spark!
It was obvious
and the reality was quite stark.

So once again for every prospective girl
they got the horoscope data.
And every time they visited the Josiyer
he told them to bid the girl ta-ta.


One day, The Site spitted out a 10/10 match
it said "from the Matchmaking Pro".
But, oh golly molly,
that girl looked more like a bro!

Oh!, he wondered,
Is that God's subliminal message of the day?
That the young lad might as well,
be of the gay?

Thunnnk!

August 1996. Srivilliputhur, Thamizh Nadu.

Srivilliputhur Andal Kovil was one of the pit stops en route in our annual visit to Kutralam. While the rest of the folks (parents, athai & cousins) were in the temple, I was with Athimber observing him as he tweaked a few things under the bonnet of his most beloved white Ambassador car. We took the car to a mechanic shop in the outskirts of Srivilliputhur for a precautionary check. The mechanic was away and the fierce sun drove us to the tree shade right beside the highway. It was a typical rural highway - narrow and rutted. There was no traffic in the highway apart from 2 yellow trucks coming from opposite directions. Both truck drivers would've watched each other approach and would soon manoeuvre to pass, or so we thought. CRASH! They drove into each other. I couldn't believe my eyes. How could they do it? I thought.


May 2010. Sunshine State, Australia.

The above incident was far removed from my mind as I clipped my helmet and set forth on the long overdue ride in my mountain bike. Having pigged out a LOT in the recent India trip, a few kilograms need to be shed.

So there I was riding along in quiet backstreets of my suburb. I settled into a neat rhythm, legs pumped steadily, I took breaths in regular intervals, eyes transfixed on the road...all motions reached equilibrium as I peddled in a lively speed.

After a brief ride in the main roads, I reached one of the posh suburbs of the city. The best way to explore a suburb is to do so on a bike. I pedaled along in one of quiet backstreets checking out the real estate. It was an interesting suburb and I had my own running commentary inside my head...

"some people's taste is really in their bum. I mean, wad is this! " as I went past a bungalow hideously painted in purple. Purple!

"and look at that", I muttered gazing at a monstrosity which looked like a cross between a mausoleum and The White House.

"Indha kezhavikku yedhuku singaaram (Why beautify an old lady)", I quipped (to myself) at a few dudes painting an old house.

Feeling smug about the cosy Queenslander I live in, I pedalled along hearing the soothing rrrrr sound of the tyre as it rolled on the rubberised road, checking out the periodic reflection of sunlight on the chrome spokes and then suddenly there was a "Thunnnnk". I was lying on the road.

It was a long straight road. There was only one car parked on it. Only one car. Lost in my trance, I had pedalled straight into it.

I stood up, gathered myself. My mind/conscience was laughing out loud at me "Kadavul kuduthaar paar! Hahahah!" (God gave you that. Hahaha!)

A thought struck me. Perhaps the lady of the purple house or the grandma living in the Mausoleum-WhiteHouse watching me would've thought: Any moment he is gonna change course and go around that car. Any moment. No he is not. No! The idiot rode straight into it!

I did.

--

I've been away for a while. Thanks to those who keep checking this blog occasionally. I hope to post more often. Thanks for visiting :)

God's Debris

My colleague forwarded the e-book of Scott Adam's God Debris with a note which read: "A mother of a thought experiment mate! Do read this one." He seldom 'praises' anything like this. When I finished reading God's Debris, I could understand why.

God's Debris stands out from the list of books I've read. It is a thought experiment. A delivery man goes to an address in San Francisco to deliver a package. He meets an old man in the house. The whole book is based on the conversation between them. The author states the old man literally knows everything. He has radical and non-traditional views on God, universe, evolution, science, humanity etc. His theories arise from 'sceptic's creed' - the simplest explanation is usually right. Philosophy and simplicity don't always go together. Philosophy is known for its complex sentences and incomprehensible words. I adore simplicity. Even though some of the old man's theories/views were flawed, I found the simplicity and clarity in his explanation very refreshing.

The crux of the old man's philosophy is that God is omnipotent and He knows everything. So what would actually challenge God? God knows answers to every question except one: What would happen if he ceases to exist. The old man say this is the one & only challenge that would interest God i.e. to destroy Himself. The result of this challenge is the reason for everything there is - all matter in this universe - that exists in its current form. Everything. Everything including us is the result of God's effort to maintain his omniscience. This notion also gives the book its title. We are God's Debris.

Using the above philosophy, the old man makes interesting correlations to many things. Natural phenomena like gravity he says is nothing more than simplified illusion created by human brain since it cannot comprehend the actual description of reality. Scientific terms such as infinity, electromagnetic field and words like dimension, horizon are conveniences created by scientists to mask holes in their understanding. I was tempted to know what he thought of zero. Let's say if God does not exist, we have nothing. Our fancy word for 'nothing' is zero. The old man may have explained that with yet another audacious theory that would've made Aryabhata turn in his grave. The engineer in me was mildly taken aback with his explanations. But I liked it. The book is a thought experiment and there was feast for thought. Even though most of explanations appeared logical, some seemed obvious, there was nagging feeling of something amiss. There is little bit of bull excreta in the old man's exquisite gourmet meal. The tricky bit is to differentiate between the two.

The old man bases explanation of the concept of probability. Every other question has an answer to why. Only probability is inexplicable. STAT101 taught us that probability works on the law of averages. The probability of heads or tails when tossing a coin is 1/2. That does not mean when we toss the coin, we are guaranteed to get head once and tail once. If we toss the coin 100 times, we are likely to get head 50 times and tails 50 times. Toss it 1000 times, we are very likely to get heads 500 times and tails 500 times. Probability tends to become eventuality in the average case. Life, too, is like that. It is a probability distribution. We can make efforts to maximize the expectation of an event, but we can never assure the outcome of any sporadic event. Probability, like God, is omnipotent and omnipresent. The old man refers to probability and normal distribution curves to explain creation. He weaves a transitive relation between creation, luck, probability and God. Based on this philosophy, he puts a interesting explanation that there is an equivalence relation between God and probability.

The old man discusses many topics - Relationships, intelligence, quantum physics, will power, extra sensory perception etc. Even if you don't agree or fully understand the old fella's views his explanations makes a compelling read. He bullies your thoughts and your grounded understanding. In the book's introduction, Scott Adams specifies his target audience as those people who enjoy having their brain spun around inside their skulls. Well, after reading the old man I begin to wonder what spun what in reality. Hmm.

Awesome read. Do check it out.

Thanks for this, Marcus :-)

The trauma of see-through shorts

I had a lazy weekend last week. After a three straight weeks of hectic work (incl weekends), I was letting my hair down. It was nice to relax and not to keep pace with the clock. Time sometimes runs too fast for me.

Thanks to the lazy weekend I didn't get any of the regular household stuff done (e.g. ironing clothes). At the dawn of Monday, I was hunched over the Ironing board wrestling with a business shirt which I had to excavate from the bottom of a big pile of washed, yet-to-be ironed clothes. The shirt I was ironing had a tag which read "wrinkle free". The shirt looked as if it had been rolled in a ball and been sat on by a Hippopotamus. I flattened the sleeves, straighted the collars, bssked bssked some water to subdue the material...and the brain did its thing as usual by going back to my school days when Kalai akka, our housemaid when I was in Madras (her name was Kalaiarasi), used to iron my school uniforms. I never had to worry about the clothes side of things. She took care of it. Akka, you are a legend!

So, the shirt was ironed. Pant was ironed. Someone was winning! I still had time to do couple more shirts so I don't have to endure this torment for the next two days. Just then, my flatmate popped in, his nickname is Tubs, and said in a stressed tone "O thank God. You are ironing. I am in a rush eh. Could you Iron this for me man, please?". "Of course. Give me.", I said, feeling happy that I could help someone in their Monday morning rush. Tubs gave me a black Adidas shorts to iron. Shorts are easy peesy compared to the beast of a shirt I ironed just now.

I laid the shorts on the ironing board. As I began to iron, I realised the Iron wasn't moving smoothly. "enna aachu?" (what's happening?), I thought, pressing the Iron a little harder. The Iron was stuck to the cloth. The blimming thing wouldn't move. I could sense a burning smell as well. I lifted the Iron, it had a black patch on the hot plate. Wisps of black smoke spiralled from its base. Sure enough, it had left a triangular shaped hole on the shorts. In a very short period of time, my brain went from horror, denial to plain blankness. So much for a Monday morning!

I walked towards Tubs's room holding up the shorts. I could look through it. It looked funny and I was almost about to laugh. I bumped into Nellie, my other flatmate. Nellie saw the shorts, laughed, and said "it's synthetic, Sriiii! you never iron them!".

"Oh. Is that right?"

I reached Tubs's room. Standing on the doorway holding the shorts aloft, I said "Man. I am really sorry. I burnt the arse out of your shorts". Tubs looked at the shorts in disbelief. He gave me a pained look. Oh the trauma of the burnt shorts.

As a guilt-stricken flatmate, I shouted him a few beers this weekend. It's the best therapy for this type of trauma.


Moral of the story:

1. Never, never iron synthetics.
2. Iron your own clothes. If you do burn/ruin them, atleast you'll have satisfaction that you killed it and not the other person.

This = rand(thots, 1)

• Watched Unnai Pol Oruvan last weekend. A great movie. Unlike the friends I went with, I haven't seen the original, A Wednesday. I think having not seen the original helped me to appreciate movie on its own context without the inevitable comparison. While watching UPO, it took me a while to see Kamal as a common man. As the movie progressed, Kamal - the character - grew in me. Except for dialogues (only at some instances), every aspect of the movie was almost perfect. And no, I didn't find MohanLal's accent irritating. I actually liked it.
  

• Kamal proves, yet again, he is one of the few people to take Tamil Cinema to the next level. I really admire the brilliance and versatility of the man - not only as an actor - but as a movie maker. He is one of the few persons who really understands the medium called cinema. Legend!
  

• A friend sent me this clip. Chakri Toleti, director of Unnai Pol Oruvan, is in it. Funny clip.

• Things have been busy in work front. The last month has been a huge learning curve and greatly rewarding. Along with other stuff I've got running in parallel, I am happy that I've accomplished what I set to do.
  

• Weddings. Kalyanams. Engagement parties. Nichiyatharthams...September was full on!

• Later this month, one of my best friends, is getting married in Auckland. At last, I am attending a TamBram wedding after god-knows-how-many years. I cant wait for Oct 23rd. Ganesaaa!

• I hate time zones. Why do all my good friends have to live in different timezones. Hmph!
  

• I was at IKEA this weekend. I don't know what's with that place, it's my second visit there and I am writing about it again. Two things: I saw the biggest bathtub I've ever seen in my life. It was a size of a small lake. Massive. I also saw a slam-proof toilet seat. I tilted the toilet lid, and watched it slowly and noiselessly descend and close with faint click. The saleswomen pitching for the product looked very pleased. I asked her "do you have one that lifts automatically when someone approaches?", and immediately added "...and lowers when they depart?". The saleswoman gave a blank look and said "ahhh. no. sorry." Men can sometimes forget to lift the seat. This can cause a degree of domestic disharmony. I am sure IKEA will fully expound on the sales potential of the automatic seat lifting toilet. I wonder what's next?
  

• NZ playing Australia today in Champions Trophy final now. Go the Black Caps! Underdogs vaazhgha!

• I have not had Rasam for more than three weeks now. I am craving for hot thakaali rasam with poricha appalam.

• This weekend is gonna be a cookfest.
  

• I am brushing up my MATLAB skills. It's been 3 years since I've worked on MATLAB/Simulink. Hence the title of the post.
  

Everything

...

S: Whatever you think is everything becomes everything.
K: So how is anything different from that which is in reality everything.
S: It is different because that which is in reality everything thinks that you are everything.
K: How do I know that is infact the case?
S: By becoming that.

...

Everything.

En boss ooruku poitaaan!

This weekend was action packed. It was spent entirely at work. The boss is going on a long holiday. He decided the weekend will be used for knowledge transfer, getting me familiarised with certain procedures and protocols, list of meetings to attend, the importance of keeping the mouth shut, how to do the weekly crap and the monthly vomit...

By the end of today (Sunday), both of us had had enough. When I bid goodbye to him, the feeling could be best described by the clip below.

En boss oorukku poittaaan! :D

Life without Internet

I moved to a new place last week. I am flatting with four people. I like the look & feel of my room. It is spacious and there is enough free space for me to practise my cover drive with the full flourish or to bowl with a shortened run-up.

"Heyy...hows it? Oh BTW, no internet for next 3 weeks". I laughed it off thinking it was a joke. I bumped into another flatmate. He told me the same with a look of a child lost in a big trade fair. "Freakin Telstra". He was pissed off. The Internet connection was under the name of my room's previous occupant. When she moved, the Internet moved with her. When you snatch a candy of a kid, the kid cries. When you unplug a group on internet junkies, they fume. The world cease to make sense to them. They feel lost in their own homes. They feel lonely even in the arms of their loved ones. Everything is a blur. Our new ISP has advised us it'll take between 10-14 working days to get plugged in again. :

This weekend - like any other weekend - was for two days. But it was a one of looongest weekends I've had. It was pouring outside. With no Internet, I had so much time to do other stuff. I finished reading two books - RK Narayan's Horse and 2 goats & Malcolm Gladwell's Blink. Both books were fantastic read. I am planning to write a post on Blink sometime. I played Solitaire and Minesweeper after a long time. I cleared the sent items which had mails I sent during my first week at work (~2.5 years back). I defragged my HD, I have the cleanest desktop on the planet and all my music is fully backed up. My notebook feels light and is smiling at me.

Since I just moved in and I was running out of things to do, I decided to rearrange my furniture (read as: I am very bored and I'll do anything to break this state of mind). I wanted a different layout. So, I moved stuff around. Arranged. Re-arranged. Meddled. Almost broke one leg of the dining table chair. "Oh no...I'll google the fix for this... Crap, No internet". I then used a trick I applied in my 1st year engineering design project and managed fix/tighten the leg. Felt really good. Re-re-arranged. I realised I've come a full circle that I ended with a layout similar to the initial layout. There are only n amount layouts one can try in this room. Felt stupid and carried on. The power of boredom continues to amaze me.

Just like last weekend, the weekday evenings were quite slow as well. One weekday evening went like this: I come back after work, I walk into my room. I make myself a cuppa tea. Switch on my notebook to break the deafening silence. As I switch the notebook on , I realise there is no Internet. I lean back in my chair and look out of the window. For the next few minutes, I keep staring. Nothing in particular really. Just staring. I am neither happy or sad. A state where everything is perfectly neutral and blank. I keep staring. The staring is interspersed with sips of Earl grey. After a few minutes, I realise I am not doing anything . I look around and move on. This may look really weird to some of you. Perhaps this is the brain's way of adjusting to the absense of something which is a part of daily life, something it probably took for granted, something which it thought was critical to our digtalised existance. Perhaps the brain was trying to fill a void within itself while in the right-wad-do-we-do-now mode.

2 more weeks to go. Internet, I miss you. *sigh*

The pursuit

A poem by me.

in the dawn
in the dusk,
in the light
in the shade,
in the quick laugh
in the careless snigger,
in the utopian dream
in the pang of reality,
in the extended silence
in the fleeting rhapsody,
in the vivacious adventure
in the hollowness of loneliness,
in the understanding smile
in the quiet tear,
in the quick blink of eye
in the meaning of untold words,
in every big leap
in every missed beat,
in every glowing success
in every stumble,
with the radiance of hope
and with faith,
I am searching,
but where?
in society, in people,
in culture, in traditions,
in us, in it,
in here, in there,
in you, in me!
Will I find it?
Have you found it?
I don't know.
I am searching,
I will keep searching,
for this pursuit never ends!

Hope and Loneliness

I read this today:

Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space. An intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you’ll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.

Janet Fitch

I have conflicting thoughts on the sentence "Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space". Yes, it is very hard to find such person - someone who is in sync with you. Even good, close friends, don't necessarily understand you. They may just accept you. It's just that we can not afford to lose hope in finding that person. Hope can drive you crazy. But, in Andy Dufresne's words "Hope is a good thing, may be the best of things, no good thing ever dies".

I strongly agree with the last sentence "The best you’ll ever do is to understand yourself...". It echoes my views in the last para of this post.

My Orchid

Of all the posts I've written so far, I find this post the hardest to write. The toughest tributes have got to be the ones written for people you've known the longest and loved the best. Nothing I say can be enough.

In life we form relationships with many people. Some relationships are strong bonds with people who mean a lot to us (e.g. parents, siblings, close friends etc.), some are in the middle ground - neither this nor that, and some relationships exist because both individuals are alive and kicking and/or because the path of individuals intersect somewhere in time (e.g. hi-bye friends or relatives whom we meet sporadically).

Of all the relationships that exist in this world, the one between grandmother and grandson is THE most special. It is a special bond that is very difficult to put in words.

My Paati (Paati is the tamil word for grandmother) is an influential figure in my life. She is everything to me. After my mum, she is the first person to see me. From paaladai to ooti-vittufy, she has fed me. She has told me stories. She introduced God to me. She taught me how to pray. She taught me the value of having values, the importance of doing one's duty, to love unconditionally. From her, I learnt how to be soft and yet strong, how to be innocuous and still be assertive...Most importantly, I learnt who I am and who I can be.

My Paati is not a run-of-the-mill Paati. When I say 'Paati', if you picturize an old lady, frail, wearing a white sari, lips silently chanting a sloka with prayer beads on fingers - you are greatly mistaken. My Paati is very enterprising and dynamic. She is a businesswoman and entrepreneur. Born in the generation where women from orthodox Tamil Brahmin community were married before they finished high school, she also got married in her early teens and was determined enough to finish her Masters degree in Cosmetology. In the era where most married women with more than 2 kids were content being a housewife or at most work in the safe haven of a Government job, she established a herbal beauty clinic, expanded it and ran it successfully for 20+ years and along the way did a splendid job of raising three successful kids. In the age where people settled with decent income wouldn't consider upgrading themselves professionally by studying further, she ran the family and studied to specialise in Aroma therapy. Finally, when she is physically old and the body seem to dish out the vagaries of old age, the last thing you would expect her to do is a gruelling trek in the Himalayas. My Paati did a 1-month trip to Mt Kailash and Manasarovar Lake in the Nepal-China border. She did extensive preparation for the trip to be physically and mentally fit. She did it!

My Paati is a lady with strong sense of style and class (No wonder she is a beautician!). A class that you will feel with the way she speaks, carries herself and her immaculate dress sense. She moves with great poise and dignity. Her generosity of spirit and her unselfish capacity to care has touched many people. In more ways than ever, she is a source of inspiration to me and to everyone around her. She always tells me "Sriramaaa, saadhikanum! Namma unnum yenna pannalaam-nu paakanum. Seiyara kaariyatha, innum eppdi nanna seiyalaam paakanum!. Nambaloda kadamai thavaraama seiyanum". Words that'll always hold true.

People dream. They aspire to do lots of things. Many aspire, but only few steadfastly work towards it and realise the dream. My Paati is one of the few. I believe she has achieved her dreams. Her life is punctuated with many challenges which she has overcome with grit, hardwork, determination and sense of faith. To me, my Paati is a real achiever and a true all rounder.

Today is Mothers day. My Paati turned 66 last Friday. Whatever I've written is a humble attempt to say thank you to my Paati. Paati, I love you.

My Paati. My inspiration.

Passion, profession, both or neither?

A wise man once said "Make your profession your passion. Half your time in this planet will be spent at the workplace". When I first heard this, I felt it was an obvious statement to make. You work in a field that you are passionate about. Otherwise, what's the point in working? Right? Is it not important, at least for everyday contentment that you work in a field you are passionate about?

Before I decided to wear the garb of an Electrical Engineer, I was told by many to “Pursue your passion”, “Follow your passion and get paid for it”, “Turn your passion into profession” etc. Before I started BE, I was not completely sure whether EEE was my passion. I certainly did like EEE. While at Uni, the mere act of engineering something and seeing it work excited me. ‘Liking’ started to develop into passion. When I entered the workforce, the dynamics changed. The bird that was free, independent, doing all acrobatics in the academic world was now caged as it entered the big bad professional/corporate world - the real world. Hold that thought~

It is interesting the wise man (quoted in 1st para) did not say “Make your passion your profession…” This leads to the inevitable question. I ask you, dear reader, have you made your passion your profession? If you ask, “Well have you?” – I have observed most passions follow the theory of natural frequency and damping. They start out with a big surge, slowly dwindle and eventually die out over time. Some passions (e.g. cricket, violin) are reignited occasionally, but they are merely bright flashes than raging flames. I am slowly realising the damping theory seems to apply with my ‘passion’ for my current specific field of work (not Electrical Engineering as a whole, please. I don’t want that to happen!). The passion is ‘damped’ because of some reasons which I don't want go into. ~The bird wants to fly again. I like Obama’s campaign tag line (with a minor modification): The change that I need.

I’ll cut the crap and go to my questions:

Profession is to make a living. Why is that when you turn or attempt to turn, your passion into profession you don’t seem to enjoy it anymore?

Is it because - Passion is synonymous to art. Art doesn't come out well when forced. Art, like passion, comes from ones heart. Passion/Art does not flow if you force or pressurise (due to professional needs)? (What about pro artists then? Oh God. LOL). Profession is like science. Science adheres to logic. Science, like profession, whether forced/unforced can be done regardless. Passion/Art almost always can only take its natural course. When you force it, you lose it. Do you agree?

So, does it mean that passion can remain ONLY as passion and not as profession?

If you say “NO. Passion can also be as profession. I see a Tendulkar, a Rahman, a Jordan follow their passion. Don’t you think they are enjoying their profession...sorry passion? Both?” Tendulkar, ARR, Jordan et al are geniuses. They are products of Providence to show Man how good he can be. They can not be used as examples. They are glorious exceptions. To put it rudely, they are freaks. I am just an extraordinarily ordinary person. I am neither a genius nor a freak. There are many people like me. This thought/question is ubiquitous in our minds.

Why?

Feel free to post your thoughts, opinion, questions, kindal, nakkal, thuppal...

FW: How to be creative

I got this as a forward yesterday. Thanks Vandana!

Lots of wisdom in this. Very insightful. We know most of this, but we have this need to be reminded of life's lessons and have some facts reconfirmed. I wonder who compiled this list.

1. Ignore Everybody!

2. The idea doesn't have to be big. It just has to be yours.

3. Put the hours in.

4. If your biz plan depends on you suddenly being "discovered" by some big shot, your plan will probably fail.

5. You are responsible for your own experience.

6. Everyone is born creative; everyone is given a box of crayons in kindergarten.

7. Keep your day job.

8. Companies that squelch creativity can no longer compete with companies that champion creativity.

9. Everybody has their own private Mount Everest they were put on this earth to climb.

10. The more talented somebody is, the less they need the props.

11. Don't try to stand out from the crowd; avoid crowds altogether.

12. If you accept the pain, it cannot hurt you.

13. Never compare your inside with somebody else's outside.

14. Dying young is overrated.

15. The most important thing a creative person can learn professionally is where to draw the red line that separates what you are willing to do, and what you are not.

16. The world is changing.

17. Merit can be bought. Passion can't.

18. Avoid the Watercooler Gang.

19. Sing in your own voice.

20. The choice of media is irrelevant.

21. Selling out is harder than it looks.

22. Nobody cares. Do it for yourself.

23. Worrying about "Commercial vs. Artistic" is a complete waste of time.

24. Don't worry about finding inspiration. It comes eventually.

25. You have to find your own schtick.

26. Write from the heart.

27. The best way to get approval is not to need it.

28. Power is never given. Power is taken.

29. Whatever choice you make, The Devil gets his due eventually.

30. The hardest part of being creative is getting used to it.

31. Remain frugal.

32. Allow your work to age with you.

33. Being Poor Sucks.

34. Beware of turning hobbies into jobs.

35. Savor obscurity while it lasts.

36. Start blogging.

37. Meaning Scales, People Don't.

37. When your dreams become reality, they are no longer your dreams.

Life goes on...

This post is for a friend who is experiencing that drowning feeling and having a torrid time. I have not experienced my friend's situation before - I shudder about the prospect of it. This is an attempt to give some advice, guidance (which my friend asked for) and to put things in perspective. This is free advice. If you think whatever I've written below is rubbish, you may be right!

Falling in love...no, IMHO the L-word is too early and premature to use here. Its actually the wrong word.

Start again, when a person you (strongly) like rejects you it is depressing. You feel hollow, helpless and the rejection rankle you and it takes a while to get over it. Agreed. When the Significant Someone (SS) rejects you, it hits the sensitive corner present in every human called feelings. It hits you hard. Lot harder than you imagined. Ego takes a big hit. Rejection is an emotional blow which floors any person. Few people get up straightaway, most people take some time and the remaining gets identified as direct descendants of Devdas (Is there a female version of Devdas?).

People who are into this lauve business will get rejected or will reject a few before they find their real SS. Not all people are lucky to live happily-ever-after with the first person they like . Its like hitting bulls eye in your first shot without any practise (amazing skill or fluke).

We face rejection all the time in different forms and from various sources. From your best friend - to your boss- to your milkman- to your cat, everybody rejects you at some point. Yeah Yeah these 'rejections' are not the same as SS rejecting you. Its vastly different. But what to do? You cannot change or influence a person's mind. You never know what is going on in a person's mind. Human mind is fickle hence completely unpredictable. Love is complex. When you put these two elements (mysterious working of the mind & Love) together, you have an equation the solution for which is best determined by someone a bit higher than us. In Aaitha Ezhuthu (Yuva), Surya defines this equation very simply- its all hormonal based. I agree with that.

Look, I understand the 'attraction' that I think you have developed is something more than just 'looks'. I respect that. It happens. Remember, just because the other person rejected you doesn't mean you are bad or inferior. Please do not feel that way. It is dangerous as it'll have serious impact on your psyche, and most importantly, your self esteem. Its just that their expectations that he/she has for their ideal SS is different, or worse, they probably don't know what they want/expect; in your case, its probably continually changing as your SS walks through experiences in his/her life.

My friend, you have to move on from this. I know it'll be hard. Repeating your words: its like a scar on the body, it may heal but its still there. True! Take your time. Time is a healer. Life, they say, is a great teacher. I am sure you have learnt/are learning valuable lessons and this has helped you to better understand yourself. It'll be very unfair - both on yourself and for people close to you - if you don't come out of this because you deserve to be better. Liking/loving/crush is all part of life. Only a part. We land into problems when we think it is life. I know you understand this. You are smart enough not keep brooding about this. I am confident you will move on. You have to. You will. You will emerge as a better and stronger person.

Life teaches many things. This aspect of life is definitely not 'one-hit, you miss' kinda thing. There will be lots of 'meetings' later on. You know that. Forrest Gump said "Life is a box of chocolates, you never know what you are gonna get" - so god-damn right. [However later in the same movie, he said "I am not a smart man, but I know what love is". What can I say?! (I included this because I know you'll counter argue the previous quote. Shut up! Don't say anything :D)]

Who knows, years down the line when you are happily married and have four kids, you sit back and introspect you may feel it was good that this was not meant to be.

Life moves on, I am sure you will too.

Hope this helps. All the best!