Thursday, May 5, 2011

Memories of Tints and Shades (2002)

TINTS
&
SHADES





What tints and shades does your life comprise of? Does it have tints of bold and fierce red or shades of cool and chilling blue? For the benefit of those who don’t know, tint is a color to which white has been added and shade is a color to which black or another dark hue has been added to make it darker.

Life is multicolored… well!! This holds good as long as you are not an Owl or blind or a blind owl. From the Pinks of health to grey of melancholy, from Greens of Meneka Gandhi to saffrons of BJP, life and politics are both colorful. Here, it is interesting to note that the Indian politics is colored either in saffron or green or both.

In Life, one can experience the tints of Yellow when one is extremely happy, inspiring playful and creative i.e., when one feels like a doggy wagging tail from the Pacific Ocean to the Indian Ocean.

Black and blue is often accompanied by moons and stars rotating around the head.Purple is a very spiritual color proving that aubergine should be worshiped. People who consume the sacred vegetable should be sentenced to capital punishment. (PS: This is not to be quoted in the court of law.)

Red would represent power. Red is also the color of passion, energy, and strength. Now we know why apples drive the doctor away.

Orange stirs the feelings of happiness, confidence and resourcefulness, along with lust, vigor, adventure and wholesomeness. Orange reminds us of adventure that one feels to peel the layers and layers of peel to consume the fruit(orange).

Green is color conducive to a relaxing, calming atmosphere. Visualize the feelings that we experience when surrounded by green plants in the local park. It is easy to see that green should lead to a sense of balance and tranquility unless it is algae or Madhuri or perhaps algae on Madhuri.

Whichever color you represent, you must always remember that the shadows are as important as the light. The tints are as important as the shades. And, it is most important that with these tints and shades of colors, we enjoy the journey called life.

Declaration:There was no intention to offend any creature or individual in this Article, especially the blind owl. Any annoyance to any creature or individual living or dead is deeply apologized. Also there was no use of animal meat/ animal fat / animal sweat (except for my own) to produce this piece. No trees were cut, no papers wasted. I declare that this piece is completely eco-friendly. However if the blind owl has taken offence and committed suicide it isn’t my fault.

Bindu -2 (2004 entry)

BINDU (Part 2)




I had 3 years to decide which stream to take-up as a career. At IHM they offered Food Production (Kitchen or Bakery), Food and beverage service, Front office and House keeping. Being some one who loves food, I couldn’t think of a better way to give back to the society all the good food that I savored all these years. Had the society known my intentions then, I would have been probably sent to Pluto on a special spacecraft with no return tickets. ‘Thank God!’ for them and ‘Thank God!’ for the Institute I soon discovered that kitchen is not my “handle of a ladle” (Read: cup of tea.) However I do regret having missed the opportunity to visit Pluto.

I was never to become a Front office Professional and had never considered F&B Service a valid option. Applying the theory of elimination here would leave me with only one conclusion that if I had to succeed in making a career with hotels; housekeeping was my ONLY hope. And when I saw what housekeeping had in store for me, I could never be happier. Flower arrangements, interior decorations and long hours of polishing brass so much so that you could see the sweat dripping of your face. It was at least better than the kitchen where you could compete in contests such as “who can chop off your fingers better,” “who would get the best burn”... etc.

Still looking forward to make my mark in the world, I took up a job with a good chain of hotel soon after the college. It was perfect till I realized that the part of the world where I was supposed to work was not exactly what I would call “The World”. Vijayawada was where my job took me. I knew the language and I knew it enough to make a decent conversation. Still there was some thing missing. It did not have the pace of Hyderabad and it did not have that Cosmo crowd and I missed my college, my friends and the bed in my hostel. The Hostel where I was supposed to stay did not have a bed…worse, the bathrooms stunk.

Work was initially rough, and then smoothened out as time passed. I lost weight climbing up and down the stairs from 4th floor, where I was assigned as a floor supervisor, to the basement. My Mother was delighted to see me in shape. Despite her several warnings that she might kick me out of the house, I took great pleasure in consuming what ever I termed as tasty, which was mostly junk food. Looking at me in Vijayawada, I am sure she must have prayed that I never return to civilization.

Six months in Vijayawada, I planned to leave the job. The city had got into my blood, my head. I had even started thinking in Telugu. With my bag and baggage I returned to Jabalpur, the place where my folks were staying. I had planned to take a good break and look out for a job in another city simultaneously I also started applying for further education. One such application got me a call from a business school in Delhi.

I was not sad that the dish (BINDU) could not work out. Now that I was about to join the brigade of wannabe management graduate; everything was so clear to me, I was not meant to be an hotelier. The call of my destiny was so clear; I was supposed to be employed by an MNC and do whatever management graduates do. The day I packed my luggage, I dreamt of me preaching “Bindu’s theory of motivation.”

Bindu (2002 Entry)

BINDU



“Ouch! It hurts,” I screamed. “Its fine” said a tender voice. As he dressed my wounded finger, I felt my heart slip away. He was my chemistry teacher nursing the cut on my finger. I broke a test tube. I always dreamt of this…not the man, but the laboratory. I always wanted to become a scientist, work in the lab, make couple of explosions and discover a new element and name it “Bindu”. Yeah!! I dreamt of that.

When I was in fourth grade, as a part of the curriculum, we had a lesson about Madam Curie. It was all about the hardships she went through and how she discovered Radium. Since then I wanted to have a lab of my own. At home, I was never discouraged. My parents wanted me to do well.

Up till my Tenth grade, I wanted to be nothing but a scientist. After Tenth, I had to rethink my options. Not that I didn’t do well, but the competition was tough. So, here’s what I thought – If I take up science as a subject, I would be a scientist. If I take up Commerce, I would be a Chartered Accountant (all I knew about CA’s that time, was that they were very Rich). If I take up Arts, I would be an archeologist. In that case, I would discover a historic site and name it “Bindu”.

I took up science. I saw my dreams come true. In grade eleventh and twelfth, life was smooth. Well!! I did break few test tubes but no explosions yet.

After passing my school, I still wanted to be a scientist. But I also wanted to be an engineer; a doctor, a designer and the list didn’t end. With this confusion in my mind, I filled up as many entrance forms that I could lay my hands on. Fortunately or unfortunately, I gave just two exams. The first one was the Hotel Management Exam.

My father was transferred to Ambernath (a suburb of Mumbai, India). I joined Bachelor of Science in a college near by. My subjects were: Microbiology, Chemistry and botany. My parents wanted me to take up Microbiology as a specialization in my honors, while I was interested in chemistry for the obvious reasons that I had to discover my element. For a brief period, I was interested in botany. I could have become a botanist, crossed some plants and get a hybrid fruit and name it “Bindu” (wasn’t a bad idea).

It was during my B. Sc., that I joined Computer course from a reputed institute. Here, I gave my second entrance exam for a B-tech Degree. I happened to be the only one selected from my branch to be selected for the degree. Now, I wanted to develop software and call it…(You must have guessed it by now).

Just when I thought every thing was so planned, I received a letter from National Council. I cleared my Hotel management exam and was supposed to join the institute in Hyderabad. The opportunity tempted me. It was a professional course. My father was apprehensive of sending me so far to study but my mother some how convinced him.

Here I was in Hyderabad. As I stood right in front of my college building, I had just one thought in mind – A dish named “Bindu.”


MMS - much before the scandal broke (Entry - 2003)

MICHAEL MORETTI SYNDROME




The so-called Michael Moretti Syndrome (MMS in Short) refers to a situation when a woman falls in love with a Jerk. MMS derives its name from the famous Jerk, Michael Moretti from the book “Rage of Angels” by Sidney Sheldon. Jennifer Parker, like any other Sydney Sheldon’s heroine is a brilliant and beautiful young woman. Her dreams and her career were smashed in less than twenty-four hours of her being sworn in as a lawyer. Reason – Michael Moretti.

Michael Moretti is compelling, eccentric and vengeful, a dark angel who spreads wide his wings of terror. He is a villain who falls in love with Jennifer; it is he who stands by Jennifer in her worst times. “He did not know what hurt him more, was it the bullet in his heart or see Jennifer die in front of his eyes” writes Sydney about Moretti. Who wouldn’t fall in love with a man so passionate and intense? It is yet another tale that it is Michael Moretti himself who tries to kill Jennifer.

MMS is spreading rapidly in women around the world. No one is immune... women from age 9 to 99 are known to be most susceptible to this syndrome. The Causes for MMS are unknown, but a plausible theory is that women want men who in all ways are perfect. A Man who has is a little arrogant, bratty and have a take-charge attitude and at the same time being nice and funny. A man should be a combination of a rebel like Amitabh in Agnipath, humorous like Amol Palekar in Golmal, silly like Johnny Lever and nice like Aamir Khan, all in one package. Many nice guys don’t do this...that so many women find attractive in men. That’s why they are more attracted to the bad boys and the jerks. The women are attracted to these types of men because these men are a bit of a rebel, they are cocky, they speak their mind, and they don’t bend over backwards for women or for people in general. They act manly. But, the downside for the women is that many of these guys are too much like jerks, and they treat women poorly.

In my own study, frequent episodes of MMS were noted in plenty Bollywood actress. Take Ms. Ash Ray, for instance, she was once upon a time suffering from acute form of MMS (which is generally called Sallu Khan Syndrome). SKS also bring along with mental trauma, a fracture and a broken Car. Sangeeta and Somi however came out completely cured of SKS.

The tendency for a woman to get MMS is inbuilt. It also depends on the kind of family atmosphere she grows up in. The great news is that MMS is Curable. One must realize that MMS is a real problem that can be treated—it is not just in the head. Second, there are no particular symptoms for MMS. It is known to corrupt basic reasoning and logic, so loss of common sense is often a symptom. But loss of commonsense alone cannot confirm the presence of this syndrome. Only few trained psychologists can detect and/or remove the MMS. Chocolates and Shopping may help in curing some cases. But large amounts of Chocolates and shopping could be particularly deleterious and is associated with insufficient hormonal counter-regulation.

The following techniques have been used to combat this syndrome:

1. Vigorous shaking and/or slapping along with cold water shower.
2. Go to a crowded mall and scream; “meow” at least five times. Do this exercise twice a week for a year
3. Avoiding watching any soaps like “Yunki ghass bhi kabhi hari thi” and “Channi har ghar ki”

A common question asked by women is the following: would I be wrong to fall for a Jerk. Several years ago, most people would say, “May be!” With present day knowledge, it is a definitely, “You stupid woman! Do you need to ask?” All Women need extensive education and instruction regarding this issue. Without concealing the facts, one should probably shift focus to preventive measures.

For more information on this, and more on common syndromes in woman, place your order right now. Each book costs $200. You'll be surprised by what you will learn. This is not found in any books, magazines or journals. Hurry! Mail your orders to j_bins@rediffmail.com. Free Shipping for first 100 orders placed.


Disclaimer: All the theories and hypothesis mentioned in this piece are my own. There is no medical evidence that such a syndrome exists. However in case any Doctor who feels inspired and works on such issue should pay me compensation of $1,000,000. My suggestions in the above article, does not imply my endorsement of such advice. As always, caveat lector: "let the reader beware."

For Sood Sir ( Entry 2003)

To Dr. Buccal Cavity, with Love




"Don’t show your buccal cavity” screamed Dr. S. K. Sood. Not that Dr. Buccal Cavity (as we used to call him) was boring but his voice was a perfect source for a lullaby... His voice is deep with a reasonable tone which is appealing to the soul... especially that part of the brain which generates drowsiness. His subject, 'Basic Nutrition' was named ‘Science of the unknown’ for all of us who had no clue as to what he taught. His lectures always had such a profound effect on us that even Krishnan Swaminath Yarramuthu Iyengar (KS in short), the insomniac, would doze off. One would only wake up once the Dr. started screaming about the buccal cavity. In fact whatever he taught was very useful to only those who understood and appreciated the subject, for example, doctors who treat malnutrition children and of course my dear friend KS.

As I was skimming through the newspaper one bright Sunday morning, I saw a familiar face. Dr. Buccal-Cavity was holding a peanut. One could see him staring at the peanut with same satisfaction, as a mother when she looks at her newborn child. One could also see that the peanut was staring back at his baldhead. If I could listen to what peanut was thinking, I am sure I could hear it say “at last! I found my mama.” He had devised a method by which Oil can be extracted from the peanut with out crushing it.

KS had once asked him “butt waat is the yuse saar?” “Iyee yam saree saar.” He continued, “Iyee hyad noo yentention aaf hurtting yyou ar your research, butt eye don’t yunderstand what is the yuse”

“These peanuts have low fat content and are edible,” said the doctor proudly to the whole class. All the women were delighted to hear the revelation. He passed around some of the nuts to the class. We filled it in our pockets, purses, tissues and whatever we could lay our hands on. We literally survived on the peanuts and water (diet coke was not available those days) for three full hours. During lunchtime, we lost the determination to diet and attacked the food counter in the SDH (Students dining hall).

As regards to the fate of our dear friend KS, he was banned in to all the basic nutrition classes. Every one envied KS while I felt sorry for him. It was only during these classes that KS was able to grab some sleep.

I remember waking up one morning only to discover that I was late for Dr.’s lecture. “You are too early for the next class, my dear!” he screamed, as he saw me entering late. Had I argued, I know my fate would be that similar to KS. Had I didn’t, my fate would still have been similar to KS. “I wasn’t well, Sir.” “May be because of the unhygienic conditions of the tea stall I visited yesterday”. I some how seemed to have ignited some thing within him because he took up the next lecture to explain the ill effects of eating out side. Though I had got the permission to attend his class that day, my classmates were giving me ugly stares.

To be honest, I can't remember much of Dr. Buccal-Cavity’s classes apart from the fact that there were several thousand of figures and graphs. I honestly couldn't see even then, how Dr. Buccal-Cavity coped with these figures him self. He is one genius who could look rite in to your eyes and say, “that loaf has exactly 222.22 grams of extra carbohydrates that you need to consume in a day”. And that was just the breakfast!

Dr. Buccal-Cavity’s classes surely helped us in some way or the other. All those charts and format that I see in my office bring back nostalgic memories of the nutritional value of some vegetable called ‘Iskus.’ The vegetable according to him was used to eat during Inka civilization. I still wonder what was ‘Iskus’ doing in Hotel Management course content and to top it, what was had Inka civilization to do with nutritional value of what we eat today in hotels. No hotel would make a dish out of ‘Iskus’ even if that vegetable still existed. Imagine if you were being served ‘Iskus’ in a hotel.

Your wife (To the head steward): That’s a nice piece if furniture there. I want some thing similar for my home.

You (to yourself): My wife is fond of unusual artifacts. Though I think that… thing… can I call it a thing… is quite repulsive.

Steward (To your wife): That’s ‘Iskus’. We eat it. People from Inka civilization … Blah blab… (You cannot listen to it anymore)

Your eyes suddenly pop out and as you fix it back in to the sockets, you say to your self, “Never will I come back to this hotel where some prehistoric furniture is served as food” and walk back to your sedan.

I know there are some people who still think that his subject never really helped us, it only helped them get hotel management degree and to all those people I would like to strongly aver that they are wrong. Dr. Buccal-Cavity’s classes did change me a lot and it is proved by the fact that I am paranoid about cooking. I am not allowed to enter the kitchen at my house lest I should sterilize the vegetables with Potassium Permanganate.

He retired the next semester and so did the subject. Our principal some how realized that, every one was pre-educated on nutrition and students have no right to entertain themselves. I feel pity for the next batches; for they would never be able to understand the importance of buccal cavity as an important part of basic nutrition as we do.

No matter where you are Dr. S. K. Sood, if you are reading this article, I must revel that you have been a source of inspiration to many of us. KS who dated your pretty daughter, (I bet you don’t know about this) has become a food quality manager in a five star restaurant in Bahrain.

Auto Rickshaw Wala's ( Entry-2005)

AUTO RICKSHAW - RULER OF INDIAN ROADS




Riding an auto rickshaw is an exhilarating and yet extremely dangerous experience. Dangerous especially when it being driven on Indian Roads. For those who are training to be good auto-rickshaw driver; always keep the following rules by your heart.

Ten commandments of driving an Auto-rickshaw.

1. Do not give way to cows, goats, buffalos or any other mode of transport. It is you and only you who rules the road. Always remember - Driving is no longer a means of transportation, it's a fight of survival and road supremacy.
2. Drivers should not, by law, use the meter. You may physically force the customer( in to your rickshaw) who may seem apprehensive or even refuse your services.
3. When u do not know the location of destination, a customer asks u to drop him, instead of saying simply ‘NO’, you could suggest him the other exciting places (that you know) that he could go to.
4. Do not in any circumstances use an Indicator. (You may use it occasionally- but only when you have 'NO' intention of making a turn)
5. You have to drive at only the maximum speed and if u even think of slowing down, you might be handed a ticket for the same. And remember, Overtaking is mandatory.
6. Do not in any case use brakes. Brakes, like appendix should be considered an organ without any particular use.
7. Honk as often as you can. This will keep your auto alive otherwise it runs the risk of becoming deaf and dumb (You wouldn’t want that, would you?)
8. Make sure there in little or no distance between the vehicle ahead (if any) or behind you. You may at times crash your rickshaw here and there but Moksha could only be obtained through the head-on crash.
9. Always remember, the customer has hired your rickshaw, he hasn’t hired you. So, do not let an argument (if any) die till you have been adequately compensated.
10. If there isn’t any issue to argue, you could argue about the weather. It is recommended that the rickshaw drivers read new papers and magazine daily so that they keep themselves abreast with various arguable topics.

Pluto's memories - From my Old blog (Entry- 2005)

My Brother Pluto




Pluto is my brother; atleast my mother says so. She even considers him better than me and my sister. I am not surprised coz he deserves it. He has never been a dog to all who have known him well. To my mother, he is her only son. To little Avi, he is a short, white human-like-species with a tail who didn’t know how to talk. To Venkat Bhaiya, he is a baby who would never grow up.


Of all the people who do not consider him a dog. Little Avi (our neighbor’s son) is the only one who is convinced beyond doubt that Pluto is almost human. It was when Little Avi was only three years old that he was introduced to Pluto. “yeh dog mujhe katega” he had said and panicked. It had come as quite a revelation and relief to little Avi when Venkat Bhaiya (Pluto’s caretaker) declared that Pluto is not a dog. The biologists should have heard little Avi explain his mother that Pluto is not a dog but merely Pluto (which he assumed is a species close to “Homosapien Sapien”.)


Pluto was only 2 weeks old when my parents adopted him from our neighbor. He was born on 6th of October along with 2 brothers and 2 sisters. Kalu, was what he was named for he was darker than the others. My sister picked up Kalu among others coz he was the fattest; He still is, however my mother dismisses it as sign of prosperity. Kalu was then rechristened as Pluto after the famous Disney character.


I have always loved Pluto in my own subtle ways. From the time we were introduced both of us knew we were bonded. The greatest bond of all: the bond of love and Hate. Love in front of others and Hate when left by ourselves. My mother suspected that there was more to this seemingly innocent friendship especially when Pluto openly refused to acknowledge my existence. Her thoughts were confirmed when she saw me forcefully hug Pluto. He almost choked to death.


This relation was carefully nurtured by both the individuals involved; me and Pluto. Most of the times, Pluto would plot his revenge pretending to ignore me. The other times when he accepted my presence, he either choose to bite me or action his carefully plotted pranks. Some of his pranks would involve getting hold of my slippers and running off. It would take me hours of running all over the house to retrieve my possession. Sometime he would pound the door like fanatic and quietly walk off the other direction when I opened. It is unbelievable but I swear he did this to me.


I have had my own share of experiments that I had performed on Pluto. Note that these are serious experiments based on which some important conclusions have been drawn.


Experiment No. 1: I had once tried to pull one of the whiskers to check if it hurts, to which me responded with a growl. My conclusion of the experiment: whiskers cause aggression hence all males are advised to get rid of their whiskers/ mustache.


Experiment No. 2: Another time, I fed him the pop-o-magic powder which pop’s up once in touch with saliva. Ideally he would not eat anything that I give him but this time I tricked him. I fed him when he was yawning. In response to this; he stood frozen for whole two minutes. When he got over the shock, he gave me a look which said “You are dead!” My conclusion of the experiment: pop-o-magic could be renamed as freeze-o-magic and marketed as dog food to all the dogs with whiskers.


This Rakhi, I would like to put my best foot forward and propose a message of Peace – As long as we are away from each other we will stop plotting against me. Incase Darling Pluto agrees to this, he could respond with a “woff woff” next time I call home. If not he could respond with a “Grrr…” Fair enough right? No matter what you respond in, dear Pluto, I must confess something… my feeling for you will never change **a wicked grin** and this time when I am back home this time… I am gonna get you!


Happy Rakshabandhan!!!

Doctors - Sumthing I wrote 6 years back.

DOCTORS

“An apple a day keeps the doctor away and if the doctor is handsome keep the apple away.” Whosoever said that has kept my fruit vendor happy. I am not terrified about getting sick infact I feel - illness is actually a sign of good health. What concerns me more are the species that cure illness. ‘Doctors’ they call them and some of them are even compared to God. Has anybody bothered to take God’s opinion about it?

I usually do not like to use their expertise unless and until it’s a life and death situation. But hey one never knows... No one dies of common cold but what if it is pneumonia. No one dies of swollen feet but what if it is dengue. My friends think I am paranoid. I disagree. I am a very patient person and I feel that Doctors need quality time with patients who are much more in need, so I give them an opportunity to examine other exciting patients.

It was quite early in life that I realized that no matter how much I love them, Doctors seems to have a special dislike for me. I was only two years old when while playing with beads, one got stuck in my nostril. Father was away and my mother planned to watch a movie with some of her friends that day. The responsibility now lay on this gang of ladies to take the bead out. One after the other, each came to try her own tricks and when nothing worked I was taken to the hospital. God only knows what an innocent soul like me had to endure at such a tender age. The doctor too failed to appreciate the fact that I agreed to visit his clinic. Instead, our wise man tried exactly the same tactic as the wise ladies did some time before. It must have been one of the wicked nurses who suggested to him that I should be taken to a separate room, tied down and then they could easily extract the bead. Their plan worked and in this process I acquired eternal enlightenment. By the end of the whole procedure, the truth had dawned upon me that every doctor in this world hates me.

This truth was time and again apparent to me during my limited interaction with doctors. I think they don’t let them take the ‘Hippocratic Oath’ until they agree to torture me when ever and if ever they get an opportunity to treat me. To elaborate let me take you through two real life situations

Situation: The dentist asked me to raise my hand whenever I feel pain… and when I did he shouts in my ear - “Keep your hand down, I have not started yet.”
Reason: The pain could have been psychological.
My take: That’s how doctors trick people. They like to keep patients assuming that they are working while all they do is probably thinking about their afternoon tea.
Solution: All doctors who try to trick their patients should go through a minimum sentence of rigorous imprisonment of two years

Situation: For the third time, the ophthalmologist tries to look in to my eyes, asks me to look straight. He screams his lungs out when I don’t.
Reason: I get distracted by the light scattered by his oily bald head.
My take: Why can’t they realize that it could be them and not me who is trying to create trouble?
Solution: My sincere request to the Govt. of all countries is that they should make wigs mandatory for all bald ophthalmologists.

Now that it is apparent that they all hate me the truth remains -
I can’t live with out them…
I can’t live with them…
What else do you call this?
I love doctors.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

New beginnings

I deleted my earlier post. I keep wondering why I even kept it posted for so long. It was about a nightmare I wished to forget... Or somewhere deep inside maybe I wished it to remain. I do not know what made me write it but I am glad its gone.

So guess its new beginnings now -hope for a brighter day and peaceful night while making lasting memories along the way.