~r a w speak~

Things I learnt from Prince of Persia - Sands of Time

2010-06-08T03:20:00.000-07:00

Movies were normally adapted from best-selling books. But, the movie adaptations almost always pale in comparison to the actual book. Notable exceptions that I can think of are The Exorcist, Jaws, The Shining, The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile, and of course The Lord of the Rings trilogy (which was way better than the books, and with way less songs. Thank Peter Jackson for that.)

Hey, I just realised that most of the movies have a “The” prefixed. Note to filmmakers: Please adapt books which start with “The”. Far better rate of success.

In recent years, however, with the advent of computer games, we see a lot of phenomenally successful games being adapted for the big screen. Let’s see, there was the forgettable Doom (with The Rock, remember?), Silent Hill (with the hot blonde chick), Lara Croft series (with the adoption-junkie Angelina Jolie), Max Payne (what a great game and what a disappointing movie, despite Mark Wahlberg), Resident Evil series (with Mila Jovovich), Hitman, Final Fantasy etc.

There was even a Super Mario Bros movie. I wonder who played Mario. George Lopez? Tron is coming out soon. The promos look great, but how often have we been misled by promos to actually believe that.

But anyway, one of the most endearing games of yesteryear has been brought to the screen, in the form of Prince of Persia: The sands of time.

Jake Gyllenhaal (yes, that one of Brokeback Mountain) has transformed himself into a hunk for this movie. The movie is about Dastan (means Yarn. As in story, not clothes), a poor orphan boy who was adopted by the King of Persia. He grows up and fights in the King’s army, and how everything goes to crap after that. During the movie, he meets a princess, finds a dagger, has some Back to the Future experiences, and so on. I won’t get too much into the plot, because there isn’t much to it either.

One thing to note is, the film-makers did stay true to the original game’s story, and throw in a lot of elements of the game in the movie, viz. The daggers, the jumping from one floor to another, the parkour, the falling gates, etc.
As is the case with recent Hollywood offerings, the focus is on special effects, action, locations, costumes, and other frills, rather than on the story, acting, directing, and most importantly screenplay. It’s a popcorn flick for spending 2 hours of your life, and don’t go expecting anything life-changing, even though it was for the lead protagonist.

SPOILER ALERT. Do not read further, if you haven’t watched the movie.

Things I learnt from Prince of Persia – Sands of Time.

When you make a movie about the middle-east, please ensure that all characters are played by white westerners and one Krishna Bhanji.

The King’s soldiers are ruthless people, who will beat up your teen friend mercilessly.

You can save your friend by throwing an apple at his attackers.

If you throw an apple at the King’s soldiers, you will get adopted by the King.

The King’s other “real” sons won’t beat the crap out of you for being an extra addition to the inheritance.

Even though NOW you are a prince, you will spend your time goofing around and oil-wrestling with other soldiers. Pining for Brokeback mountain, Jake?

The King’s orders are meant to be disobeyed by his sons.

If the kingdom you invade was so peaceful and pure as they claim, why the hell did they need walls, gates, soldiers, weapons, boiling oil and other sh*t?

The princess of the kingdom you invade, has a weapon that can change history, yet instead of using it she gives it to a messenger, who in turn pretty much gifts you (the enemy) the weapon. Stupid much?

The Persian invaders usually married whoever they conquered.

The poison in the jacket you made your father wear only activates after a few minutes of wearing, and not while you and others were handling it.

Businessmen have been evading taxes for eons.

You have to use a token black guy in the movie, and what do you do? Portray him being good with knives. Not helping much for the stereotype here, are you?

The princess who latched onto you, only likes you for your... er... umm... dagger.

The time-travelling machines of yesteryear had a one minute snooze alarm.

Never trust the guy who played Gandhi.

Persian assassins could make mini tornados.

I always thought people had aces up their sleeves. This guy has snakes up his sleeves.

Please go back to point 9 and repeat ad infinitum.

Now that you are back, please wait for a sequel and this time in 3D.

I would also invade a kingdom if the princess was as super-hot as depicted.

SAZPRO - SAve the Zakumi PROject

2010-06-04T02:07:00.000-07:00

Have you seen South Africa these days? It’s just before the start of the 2010 Football World Cup, and there is excitement everywhere. Forget excitement, this borders on mass hysteria.

Ever since the World Cup hosting rights were awarded in 2004, there has been a gradual growing of hype and anticipation. And now it has reached a crescendo of armageddonic decibels.

There are flags everywhere. Cars are adorned with flags. Flags on mirrors, flags on bonnets, flags on windows, flags on boots, flags under the car. Roads are festooned with flags and other livery.

People are wearing football jerseys. Seats are being transformed into football bean bags. Tables are made into football pitches. Malls are flashing with lights and other billboards. Vuvuzelas blowing everywhere. It’s like a festival. And then there are Zakumis.

Zakumi is the official mascot of the games. He is an anthropomorphised (whatever that means) leopard with green hair.

Very cute & cuddly, if you ask any child, teenage girl, or Twilight Fanatic, in no particular order. And he is everywhere. Key chains, car ornaments, t-shirts, dolls, and even life-size or bigger replicas placed everywhere you see.

It’s all good and part of the celebrations. But the big question is, what are they going to do with them after the games are over? Are they going to destroy all of them? Are they going to put all of the Zakumis in a giant blender and mash them into a giant yellow pulp? This is the question that begs to be answered.

This is an initiative called “SAZPRO” or short for “SAve the Zakumi PROject”. Here, I propose a few alternatives, on how to save the Zakumis and put them to use after the World Cup is over.

You can add your own alternatives, or you could always donate to this cause.
Contact me with your bank details after you finish reading this post. :-)

SAZPRO alternatives for saving the Zakumi.

Place them in wildlife reserves (where all the animals have been poached) and offer a Big 5 Zakumi viewing experience.

Give them to politicians around the world, who can use them as their proxy attendees in the Parliament.

Donate them as punching bags to the Boxing federation.

Use the heads as footballs for the impoverished kids all around the world to play with.

Use the torsos as pillows and beds for the homeless.

Dress them in black cloaks and place them near your house gates, to give a semblance of a security guard to all the wannabe robbers.

Stick a hair dryer in their hands and place them on the side of the road and watch speeding motorists slow.

Place them as roadblocks on the shoulder lanes of a road, to prevent taxi drivers from using that lane to speed past you.

Use them as mascots for your own NGO. Something like “YellowPeace”

Create a giant float filled with all of them and parade it through the streets to keep reminding people of the spectacle that the World Cup was. (Warning: Be on watch for Israeli commandos who might storm it thinking it was filled with Gaza supporters.)

Give them to the Inflatable Doll Industry, which will use them for their new fetish line due this fall.

Send one to John McCain as a new Vice-President candidate for the 2012 elections.

Send one to Al Gore, now that he has split up with Tipper. More ecofriendly, you see.

Michael Bay might use a few in the new Transformers movie.

Stick a lot of them together and use as jumping castles for kids.

Give one to Elizabeth Taylor and she’ll marry and divorce him within a space of a month.

Use them to plug the hole that BP created in the Gulf of Mexico.

Use them as dummy protestors for all your peace marches.

Give them to Toyota to use as crash test dummies for their new (and hopefully safer) cars.

Give them to Arthur Anderson and they’ll create fake bank accounts for them, and scam millions.

Send them to Australia. They have a lot of land no one uses.

Give them to China who will immediately put them to work in labour camps, making more Zakumis.

Send them to Japan, who’ll create a food delicacy out of them, and might stop killing endangered whales and sharks.

Give them to the allied forces who can use them to practise their new water-boarding and other torture techniques.

Send them to the Vatican. Finally they'll have priests that the kids would actually want to touch.

No point sending any to Zimbabwe. Mugabe will blame them for stealing the farms, and execute them. Those who don’t die, will come back as refugees in South Africa.

Send them to Nigeria. There’s no one there.

Send them to India, who’ll create the world’s first Zakumi Call Centre .

Give them to Paris Hilton/Kim Kardashian so that they can make more home videos featuring them.

Do not give them to Sri Lanka. They don't like big cats. Remember Tigers?

Use them as waiters and shop attendants, so you can get better and smiling service all the time.

Deliver them to Pakistan, so they can use them as effigies for burning, whenever they protest against Facebook & YouTube, or anything.

Send them to North Korea, so that Kim Jong Il can put his face on them and use them as propaganda statues.

Madonna and Angelina Jolie might want to adopt some.

Do not send any to Rihanna, or she might claim to be beaten by them.

Elin Nordegren (Tiger Woods' wife) might want to try a second innings at marriage. With a Leopard this time. Fidelity guaranteed.

Hugh Hefner might need some as playmates, I think.

Pity, Michael Jackson is no more. He might have needed them for Neverland.

Send a few to the Greece so they can sell them and make some much needed money.

Send a few to Dick Cheney and he’ll shoot their faces off.

Drench one in oil and gift it to George W Bush, and he’ll get a best friend for life.

Send one to England, and they’ll make him the Prime Minister.

But whatever you do, do not keep them in South Africa, or the USA might invade, claiming “Weapons of Mass Hysteriction”.

Things I learnt from Robin Hood

2010-05-26T09:39:00.000-07:00

Russell Crowe shot into attention for L.A Confidential, and in his career could have won 3 Oscars in a row, had it not been for fate.

The Insider (Kevin Spacey won for American Beauty)

Gladiator (for which he won, but shouldn't have)

A Beautiful Mind (Denzel Washington won for Training Day.)

He tried a few more Oscar worthy performances later, like, Cinderella Man, Master and Commander, 3:10 to Yuma but the hoity-toity Academy most probably gave him a miss due to his controversial off-camera shenanigans.

Don't worry Russell.

Al Pacino & Robert De Niro have also just won an Oscar each.

Ridley Scott has made some awesome movies in the past. Alien, Blade Runner, Gladiator, Body of Lies, Black Hawk Down. Different genres, but still captivating. He could have also won 3 Oscars, 2 of them in a row.

Thelma & Louise (Jonathan Demme won for Silence of the Lambs)

Gladiator (Steven Soderbergh won for Traffic)

Black Hawk Down (Ron Howard won for A Beautiful Mind)

Alfred Hitchcock, Stanley Kubrick, & Quentin Tarantino haven't won an Oscar either.

Both Crowe & Scott are brilliant in their own right, and have collaborated successfully in the past. Gladiator, Body of Lies, American Gangster. (Let's not talk about "A Good Year" here.) They make a combination on par with that of Scorsese - DeNiro, Burton - Depp, Kazan - Brando.

So when they reunite to make another historical epic, naturally expectations will run high.

However this time, it looks like they missed the boat.

Robin Hood tells the story of how a simple archer called Robin Longstride became the legendary Robin Hood. So essentially, this movie has got nothing to do with Robin Hood. It's about the making of Robin Hood. A prequel, with obvious indications of having more sequels, that is, if successful.

The movie looks grand and epic, yes. Very good performances from Cate Blanchett, Mark Strong (currently my favourite actor. Watch him in Body of Lies & Kick Ass.), and of course Crowe. The costumes, locations, & set designs look authentic and gritty. It also has some great fighting sequences, but they are few and far between. Most of the movie seems long, and yawn-worthy, but you could blame that on the audiences instant-gratification need.

There's nothing awesome like Gladiator. No heart-stopping moments like Alien. Nothing cultish like Blade Runner. Not much like 300 either. It doesn't go for the Transformers / Iron Man 2 kind of action-a-minute thrill ride. So don't go expecting that.

A good effort over all, but nothing great. Watch it once if you will. And if you have watched it, then you could always add to my list of Things I learnt from Robin Hood.

Multi-layered medieval clothing of dead strangers always fits the alive ones to a T.

Adult princes in the middle ages stood naked in front of their mothers.

If you defect the army, you get a nice sword and the king's horse as a parting gift.

The dying guy who gives you the sword, also has a hot wife waiting just for you.

You get to live in the dead-man-who-gave-you-the-sword's castle and sleep in his wife's bedroom, while your loyal friends get to live in a shack with village prostitutes.

The village priest is also the village bootlegger.

It's always a good idea for family members to leave their handprints on concrete, in case you don't remember your childhood, and need to re-visit it.

If you scar a man's face with your arrow, he will bring the French to invade your country.

Don't worry about the French invading your country, because they'll only come to 100 ft of the coast in order to retreat.

Honey bees also fought for the English crown.

If you ride away after fighting with an archer, please carry a metal umbrella, or risk getting an arrow in your neck.

English monarchy in the old days was a pretty dumb idea. Sorry, did I say old days? I meant always.

If you name your movie "Robin Hood", please let it be about Robin Hood and his adventures, and not about the making of Robin Hood. In that case please call it "Robin Hood Begins" or "How Robin Hood came to be" or "There's something about Robin Longstride".

Game-viewing on Johannesburg roads

2010-05-17T08:27:00.000-07:00

“Ever notice that anyone going slower than you is an idiot, but anyone going faster than you is a maniac?” – George Carlin (1937 – 2008)

The hype of the Football World Cup to be hosted in South Africa, during June – July 2010, is at a fever pitch now. Many tourists and sports lovers will be flocking to the African nation within the next few weeks. Everyone is doing their part to make the experience a memorable one.

This is one of my humble attempts at educating the visitors and making the locals aware of the many wonderful aspects of this beautiful country and its traffically-challenged wildlife.

Many people have this notion about South Africa that it is replete with forests, and wild animals run amok on the streets. Many people around the world still feel that lions and buffalos are common occurrences on the roads of Johannesburg. Similar to how people feel that all India has, are snake charmers, pointed curvy shoes, and magic carpets. But, South Africa is marketed that way. Game viewing in the Kruger National Park, birds in the Drakensberg mountains, whale watching in the Eastern Cape, Seal Island, Robben Island (oh wait, that has nothing to do with Robins),amongst many more. South Africa is truly a game-viewing paradise.
But did you know that you don’t have to go anywhere outside of Johannesburg to see different animals? Yes, you can view them right out of your car, on your way to work, or back.

In this article, I present to you, some of the common, and rare animals that you can keep your eyes open for, the next time you drive on Johannesburg roads.

1) Hominidus Dumbassus:

Common name: Dumbass, Idiot, buffoon

Location: Found mainly right in front of your car.

Camouflage: Lowest rung cars. Run-down wagons. Rattling, jiggling pieces of tin on wheels.

Description: This species is normally the lowest on the food chain. Probably because they are clumsy, and downright stupid. They will be the ones going 60 in a 90 zone, in the fast lane. You are right behind them, wanting to pass -- and seeing no way that they will budge – you decide to move to the next lane, which is the exact moment that they too decide to move to that particular lane (at the same or lower speed), thus blocking you further. It’s normally their cars that you see stopped in the middle of a bottle-necked road, with their hazards on, because Mr Einstein, or Madame Curie forgot to fill up petrol before leaving for work. It doesn’t help that their vehicles are also prone to breaking down in a traffic jam. It’s almost as if the following equation is programmed into them. (Toyota, are you reading?)

RCB α NoC or RCB α 1/NoL.

RCB = Rate of car breaking down
NoC = Number of other cars on the road
NoL = Number of lanes on the road.
α = Proportional

Which, for my non-technical friends means, the likelihood of their car breaking down increases with the increase of other cars on the road, or with the decrease of the number of lanes on the road.

Parking Habits: They are the ones that take the longest time to parallel park, thereby blocking a stream of cars behind them. And they are completely oblivious to the irate drivers stuck behind them, while they are dreamily manoeuvring, and re-manoeuvring. If you honk at them, you realise it spooks them to no end. They get nervous, jittery, and almost have a panic attack, which stalls their car, defeating your purpose of hooting, and delays you further. And if their car won’t start again, well, I warned you.

Ideal Relocation Habitat: This species is best suited to a rustic countryside habitat, where there are a total of 3 cars in the entire town, 2 of which are broken. Lots of wide open spaces for parking and stalling.

2) Hominidus Jerkus:

Common name: Jerk, Jackass, smartass

Location: Mostly in the lane next to yours, trying to cut into your lane, to fit in the 2 ft space between your car and the one in front. They can also occasionally be found in your lane, ahead of you, when they realise that they are in the wrong lane and have to take a sudden right or left turn.

Camouflage: Slightly higher-end and faster cars. Some of the SUVs also cater to this category.

Description: This species is slightly more well off than the previous one, in the wealth department, but not in the brain department. They can afford better vehicles, but money can’t buy common sense. These are the ones going 100 in a 80 zone, but will suddenly brake when they realise they had to turn left/right. They then proceed to make that turn, blocking every other lane on the road. You not only have to be alert for them braking or turning at any instant, but also wait till they pass.

You’ll also find them in your adjacent lane in peak traffic. They suddenly hit the realisation that your lane is moving faster than theirs, and they don’t want to be left behind. They will then, immediately try to cut into your lane, right in front of you. And all this without indicating, or even judging the space between your car and the one in front of you. If you let them get in, they will merrily carry on their way without thanking you. If you don’t let them cut in, they will give you a look that combines deep hatred, and gross injustice.

Parking Habits: You’ll find these cars parked in such a way that even though they are parked in their spot, no one can use the spot next to them. They mostly park diagonally with one tyre sticking out into your spot or some such thing.

Ideal Relocation Habitat: A small village, with a maximum of 50 cars, so they can happily cut in wherever they wish. Maybe they can go cut some crops, while they’re at it.

3) Hominidus A**holus:

Common Name: A**hole, Bully, D**k

Location: The first time you look in your mirror, they are far behind you. The next instant, they are on your ass, bullying you out of their royal way.

Camouflage: Mostly the flashy cars, bigger SUVs, sporty cars, bling-bling vehicles. Mostly dark-tinted windows, but brightly coloured vehicles.

Description: These are the rich ones. Really rich, Nouveau-riche, or just pretending to be rich. They have mid to top-range vehicles, which they then bling the sh*t out of. They’ll have 21 inch rims/mags/whatchamacallits on a 17 inch tyre. If you are unfortunate enough to have a conversation with them, you’ll see that all they can talk about is their car. You’ll hear numbers and acronyms thrown at you. 330i, 4.5TT, 55L, SLK, GTI, CLS and so on. They don’t realise that the car manufacturers concoct these numbers and acronyms to make the car sound better than what it is. That is, just a normal vehicle, whose sole purpose is to transport Person X from Place A to Place B.

They are the ones going 150 in a 80 zone. Why? Because in their words, they have “ABS” braking. Which is layman for “A**hole Bull S**t”. A car going at 150km/hr in a 80 zone, can in no way stop on time in an emergency situation. Ok, maybe the car is equipped for stopping suddenly and safely, but the vacuum between the drivers ears is definitely not equipped for instant decision making, or logical reasoning. Plus, they will have lots of distractions inside their cars, such as music blaring, GPS working, DVD playing, phone ringing, the girl they picked up in the club stripping, etc, to realise what’s happening out on the road.

If it’s a single lane, and you are going at the speed limit, they’ll come speeding behind you, almost driving on top of you, their lights flashing, horn blaring, trying to muscle you out on the pavement. You can’t reason with them. It’s their right of way, because, according to them, they have a better, bigger, more powerful car.

They are also among the most impatient. If you don’t fall to their bullying, you’ll see them in your rear-view mirror, shaking their heads in dismay and disgust at your rule-following ethics. If you do allow them to pass, they will leave you behind in a wake of dust and burnt rubber, only to wait impatiently at the next traffic light, while you leisurely catch up to them.

Parking Habits: They park while deliberately blocking 2 spots, so that no one can park next to them and scratch their lovely cars. Makes you want to just go and key their sides, doesn’t it?

Ideal Relocation Habitat: A small race track, probably 1 or 2 laps, because they don’t have the patience to run the full race either. They are in a hurry just to get somewhere, anywhere.

4) Hominidus Psychotus:

Common Name: Psycho, Nutcase, Moron

Location: Mostly 2 kms behind you. The next moment they are 2 kms ahead of you. And, when you catch up to them, you find that the paramedics or cops have got there first.

Camouflage: More powerful and faster cars than their cousins, the Hominidus A**holus. Includes humongous 4X4s that occupy 2 lanes, and are the height of a double-decker bus. Also includes, tiny floor-licking Ferraris and Lamborghinis that speed past, right underneath your car.

Description: They are like the Dubai of roads. Everything about them is bigger, better, faster than the rest of the world. These are very rare animals. You see them once in a while. And it’s probably the last time their families will have seen them too. They normally go at twice the speed limit, no matter which road they are on. They realise it was the wrong road when they hit a pothole somewhere, and lie mangled on the side, with their torsos on one side, heads on the other side of the road. But then it’s too late. Their cars are so high-end, that after an accident, the car self-crumples into a fist sized tin ball that one can carry around in their pocket. Some are quite protective about their ultra-expensive vehicles, and will drive cautiously. But sometimes, petrol and alcohol makes a deadly combination. Or so the statistics say.

Parking Habits: Quiz of the day: How much space do you think a crumpled tin ball would take?

They also have a sub-species, Hominidus Sub-Psychotus, who normally don’t drive fast enough to get killed, but they do other stupid, psychotic things that more than make up for their lack of speed. These are the psychos that you see driving, while on the phone either calling, or worse, texting someone. Some are also found chatting with their passengers, with complete, rapt attention (even turning to face them), oblivious to the road in front of them.

Sometimes, you can also see the female of this species driving their big SUVs, with their offspring in the back seat. They normally have a big sign on the car that says “Baby on Board”, which automatically makes them the most important person on the road. The female will be seen making hand gestures, trying to the play with the baby-on-board. She’ll turn around while driving, and pinch the baby-on-board’s cheeks, give it a pacifier or a milk bottle, wipe its snot, and all this while driving non-stop. The driver doesn’t realise that this action not only endangers the baby-on-board and herself, but also innocent fellow drivers who have nothing to do with the baby being on board.

Some females can be spotted applying make-up while driving. If you are lucky to spot such a female in your rear-view mirror, be prepared to be enthralled at the sight of the Grinch transform into Cinderella within a distance of 4 traffic lights.

There have also been sightings of Sub-Psychotuses driving in peak bumper-to-bumper traffic, while reading a book and eating an apple at the same time. Guess which hand was on the steering wheel, and win a chance at nothing.

Parking Habits: Parking, for them, is another mission. It would be for you too, if you had to juggle cell-phones, make-up kits, babies, books, newspapers, etc, while parking. Please, please, and I beg, please do not park near them if you value your car.

Ideal Relocation Habitat: A formula 1 race-track or a jail.

5) TaxiDriverus M0F0us:

Common Name: Taxi driver. And all the other swear words that you can think of.

Location: They are everywhere. Bloody everywhere. If you can’t see one at the moment, rest assured that you’ll see one weaving somewhere close to you in 3-2-1 seconds. See, there you go.

Camouflage: Taxis. Those big, ugly, lunch-box kind-of rickety mini buses, which are equipped by maybe 10 passengers, but end up carrying twice or thrice more. Volkswagen and Toyota make them, and their 10 generations should be tortured for it.

Description: What can one say about this species? If you were observant enough, you’d have noticed that I gave them a different scientific notation. All the previous 4 species belonged to the Hominid group. But these steaming piles belong to a different genus altogether. And if you watch them carefully, you’ll see that they have imbibed all the qualities of the previous 4 species, and added their own to the mix.

You’ll never see them follow rules. They’ll stop at a green traffic light, and go at a red one. They’ll drive on the pavement, divider, shoulder lane, opposite direction, anywhere except the road. They only use the road for weaving and swaying diagonally across all the lanes, from left to right, and back. They will stop anywhere, and they will go anywhere. They will never follow the road, the traffic, or the directions. If the arrow points right, they will go left. If it points straight, they will go in the opposite direction. Do you know how to find out if your kid will become a taxi driver in the future? Say, you are a female, in labour. The doctor is telling you to push, and you end up vomiting a baby. That my friend, is a future taxi driver. Always takes the path less travelled.

They are also the most dangerous animal on the road (an equivalent of the Hippo or crocodile). Some carry guns, which they won’t hesitate to use on you if you dare not let them cut in front of you, or if you get into an argument with them. The rest of them know that you are scared of guns and use that information to play on your fears and bully you out of their way.

Despite all their wrong-doing, they are also a boon to society. They offer public service by ferrying thousands of passengers to and from their work places. See, there is some good in everybody. They also offer additional services such as population control. Their vehicles are so un-road-worthy that they are like a moving time bomb. Sooner or later it will meet with an accident. And if two taxis crash, it usually means 50 people dead. i.e. 48 innocent passengers and 2 taxidriverus m0f0uses. The latter deserved it.

Parking Habits: Parking? What parking?

Ideal Relocation Habitat: Hell.

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Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction. It doesn't resemble anyone living or dead. And the author wishes to apologise to any real A**holes, dumbasses, bullies, m0f0s, jerks etc. for using their titles here.
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Ritually Yours!

2010-02-05T06:43:00.000-08:00

(Image source: Tim Boucher)

Rituals, rituals, re-chew-alls. We keep hearing these words again and again. Whether you are Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Jew, or any of the hundreds of other major, minor, fledgling, just-born, or just-conceived religions in the world, I’m sure you have practised some rituals at some point in your life. Yes, you have.

At their basic, rituals are nothing but a “set of actions, performed mainly for their symbolic value, which is prescribed by a religion, or by the traditions of a community”. (Thanks Wikipedia). That’s what they are, “A SET OF ACTIONS PERFORMED FOR SYMBOLIC VALUE”. Nothing more, nothing less. Even Atheists perform rituals. Yes they do, keep reading and you’ll get my point.

You see, when something is created, it needs a set of rules by which it will work correctly. A process that you need to follow, to get to the result. To put it more simply in an equation, (since I’m slightly geeky) it can be seen as

[Object + Action = Result]

I’ll provide some examples.

You get in a car, and don’t just drive, do you? You sit, adjust your seat, adjust your mirrors, lock the doors, put the key in the ignition (or press a button if you have one of those trendy ones), start the car, check the hand-brakes, put it in gear, foot on clutch, other on accelerator, and drive off. Congratulations, you have just performed a ritual.
In the previous equation, it will be shown as: [Car + (all those actions) = driving experience].

Similarly, you get up in the morning, do your ablutions, brush your teeth, have a shower, get dressed, and leave for work. Congratulations, you have performed another ritual. i.e. [You + (all those actions) = Presentable you].

While making supper, [raw ingredients + (all those actions) = good meal]
Wow! You can’t stop performing rituals, can you? :-)

Good, so now you getting my point.

(All those actions), performed in a certain way, gives you a certain result.

Thus, (all those actions), could be called as rituals.

However, in religious terms it gets a bit different and complex, but the result remains the same.

Baby + Namakaran ceremony = A baby you can address by a Hindu name.
Baby + Christening ceremony = A baby you can address by a Christian name.
Baby + Aqiqah ceremony = A baby you can address by a Muslim name.

It doesn’t matter what ceremony you use, the kid just needs to be called by some name, and not “hey kid”.

Similarly in marriage:
Man & Woman + Nikaah = Man & Woman married as per Islamic tradition.
Man & Woman + Wedding = Man & Woman married as per Christian tradition.
Man & Woman + Vivaah = Man & Woman married as per Hindu tradition.

It doesn’t matter what tradition you follow, the man and woman just need to get married legally and live together, and not like Angelina and Brad.

So whether you use rituals, to start your car; to start your day; or to start your family; it doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you get the end result. i.e. a good driving experience; a better looking and better smelling you; a blissful marriage; children whom you can call using specific names. Simple, isn’t it? But no, how can life be simple? How can humans like simple things? We like complexities. We love divisions. We absolutely strive to be different. So we put in more and more complex procedures in our day to day activities, just in order to seem different, and in some egoistic way, better than the rest.

Imagine 3 kids arguing.

Kid A says, “I take a shower, then I brush my teeth, and then I take a dump.”.
B says, “No that’s wrong, I take a crap, then I shower, and finally I brush my teeth.”.
C says, “You both are wrong. You must do as I do. First brush your teeth, then take a dump, and finally shower.”
A replies angrily, “No you are wrong, I am right. You must do it my way.” B says, “No, my way is the best way.” C finally says, “I don’t agree, let’s call Mom.”

And then they call their mother. The mother lovingly and patiently explains, that it doesn’t matter what you do first, as long as you do all those things before going to school, or else, you’ll have bad breath, stomach aches, and bad body odour; and the rest of the children won’t sit next to either of you.

Now, imagine 3 grown up men in a slightly different scenario.

A says, “You know, the bride and I stand in front of a strange white dressed man, who keeps saying something, and finally the wife and I get to exchange rings and kiss.”
B says, “You are stupid. The right way to do it is, take your bride’s hand and walk circles around a fire 7 times, while another strange man keeps uttering some words, and there you go.”
C says, “Ha. You both are idiots. My way is the best way. I sit in one room with men. The bride sits in the other room with women. I say something in someone’s ear. There, she says something in someone else’s ear. And lo and behold.”
And so they keep arguing. But no one can say who is correct. And this time, they can’t call their Mom. So who do they call? Yes, they summon God. Each person says that their respective God has stated that their way is the only correct way. Any other way is a sin. Now, because there is no one higher than individual Gods, the dispute will keep raging for years to come, with no resolution.

What they forgot, was that the goal was, not to determine which is the best way to perform a ceremony. The goal was, to get married, start a family, have kids, and live happily ever after. So why, and I repeat, Why get stuck up in rituals and ceremonies? And why drag poor God into everything? As if He/She doesn’t have anything better to do. There are people dying all over the world. Diseases, earthquakes, famines, wars, floods, global warming etc etc etc. Shouldn’t God be left free to focus on those things? And, what are we hung up on? Whether I brush my teeth before showering, or after. And why? Because Mom / God says so. Otherwise I’m going to burn in hell.

(Image source: Bite Dose)

That’s the funny thing about us humans. We can beat our wives, abuse our children, kill people, steal stuff, commit adultery, rape innocents, scam money, wage war, fight with each other, destroy the environment; and still be completely oblivious to the fact that God might be watching us. We can do all that, whilst completely ignoring God; that same God whom we keep dragging into stupid discussions. God is absent when we do all those wretched things. But when it comes to doing simple things, noble things, necessary things, we bring God in. We bring traditions in. We bring rituals in.

Does God really care if, you wear your underwear inside your pants or outside? She just cares that you wear something, and not bless others with the unholy sight of a naked you.
Does God really care if, you cook your food in a certain way? He just cares that you eat something, and not die of hunger. Hell is already crowded and there is no space for you.
Does God really care if, you put your keys in your car ignition or just press a button? It just cares that you get to work on time, and bring food to your family table. Else your wife is going to smack you.
Does God really care if, you walk around the fire; or whisper in someone’s ear; or kiss each other in front of hundreds of people? No, God doesn’t care, as long as you both are happy. As long as you both don’t go around killing the wedding guests, raping the cooks, and burning the whole place down.

That’s the whole point.

I’ll give you another example. Just because I like to rub it in. So bear with me. :-)

If you go looking to buy a house, you might use the services of an estate agent, so that they can point you to the right house. Once you find the house you like, what do you do? You pay for the house, you pay commission to your agent, move into the house, and start enjoying your new surroundings, don’t you? You don’t start getting fixated on the estate agent, and start clinging onto him or her, do you? You don’t say that you love your estate agent? You don’t move in with your estate agent, or ask them to move in with you, do you? You don’t start fighting with your neighbours, about who is the best estate agent, do you? You don’t start threatening others that they will go to hell if they don’t use this estate agent, do you? Well, maybe you don’t. But you do threaten others that they will go to hell, if they don’t do a “baptism”, a “nikaah”, an “antim-sanskaar”.

So let me ask you.
When it all ends, would you rather die in the house that you bought? Or do you prefer dying clinging on to the estate agent?
Would you like to be a presentable person? Or would you prefer wasting your time, determining whether to shower first or brush your teeth first?
Would you like to enjoy a nice relaxing drive enjoying the scenery? Or do you wish to sit in the car and demand that there be an ignition button, because you weren’t brought up using a car that needs an ignition key to start?
Do you wish to enjoy good food? Or do you wish to remain hungry, while arguing the benefits of your recipe?
Do you want to enjoy your life? Or do you want to fight for the upholding of your rituals, traditions, and symbolic actions; and kill for them?

It’s time you stop looking at your plates, and start looking at your food. It’s time you stop focussing on your keys, and start opening your doors. And as Osho says, it’s time you stop focussing on the finger, and start focussing on the moon it is pointing towards. It is time.

The time is now.

(Image source: Nat Geo)

Avatar - 10 things I learnt

2010-01-18T06:10:00.000-08:00

Q: What do you do after you have made the most successful, highest grossing, movie in history?
A: You will wait 12 years and make another movie that in all possibility will surpass the last one.

Well not you, or me. We would retire to some nice island and drink cocktails. But, we are talking about James Cameron.
Take a look at his resume:

He created the “Terminator” series and with the first movie, gave the world Aah-nuld “I’ll be back” Schwarzewhatever.

With Terminator 2, he brought back Aah-nuld (this time as a hero with his one liners “Come with me if you want to live”, and “Astalavista Baby”), and created a brand-new metallic villain who could take any shape.

He re-invented the classic “Alien”, by creating “Aliens”, and showed the world how to make sequels. (Peter Jackson, Sam Raimi and Christopher Nolan are grateful.) Who can forget Ripley fighting the Alien queen at the end?

He worked on “Rambo 2”, which eventually got made by someone else.

He made “The Abyss”, which made use of stunning special effects, and Dolby surround sound. The ending wasn’t worth it, but the rest of the movie definitely was.

With “True Lies”, he had a muscular Jamie Lee Curtis dancing for an even muscular Governator. The Governator then kills everyone else in sight.

And then he made “Titanic”. This movie went on to break all records and create history. It grossed about 1.8 billion, won 11 Oscars, and traumatised migraine patients with Celine Dion’s crooning. It also gave a reason for women of all ages to cry out loud, “Leo, Leo!” And it had men all over the world overusing the pause button during the painting scene.

Taking a break from movies, he went on to create a TV series about a bionic woman, and suddenly the world came to know about Jessica Alba

After all this, I'm assuming you either don't know, or don't care about his older turkeys. I mean Piranha II and Xenogenesis.

One would have thought, having a resume like this would compel anyone to retire and drink Pina Coladas on a Hawaii beach, and rehash the same franchise again and again. Case in point, George Lucas, who has milked the Star Wars cow so much, that it has even the hard-core fans pleading, “Please don’t milk Star Wars anymore. It’s not a cow, it’s turned into a bull.”

But not James Cameron. He had his eyes set on something even higher. Something the audiences had never seen before. Copying a concept from Hindu mythology (along with the colours of Hindu deities), the 80 page draft of Avatar was written in 1994, and planned to release after Titanic. But considering that technology had still to catch up, Cameron shelved the plans for 10 years.

After inventing new cameras and refining special effects, Cameron was back at the helm of Avatar. He also had a new language invented just for the movie. The film turned out to be the most expensive in movie history, and once released, it destroyed everything in sight and earned 1 billion dollars worldwide in just under 3 weeks.

It does look all set to break the records that Titanic had set 12 years ago. It doesn’t matter if the movie resembles like a mish-mash of Dances with Wolves, Pocahontas, Apocalypto, and just about any other movie. Despite all the criticism, and racism allegations, the Avatar juggernaut is rolling on, crushing everything in sight.

If you haven’t seen it, trust me, you will eventually see it. After all it is not just a movie. It is an event. It is an experience. It is how films should be made. And when you do go watch it, make sure you see it in I-Max. You’ll come out wishing you were born on Pandora instead.

(Image source: io9)

SPOILERS follow ahead. DO NOT read further if you have yet to see the movie.

10 things I learnt from AVATAR:

The advanced technology of 2154 can create an entire alien body, which you can inhabit using just your consciousness; but it can’t create human legs for an invalid. Or maybe it can, but it’s just more expensive than an Avatar.

In the future, you still push the wheelchair. Stephen Hawking beware.

Walking in the Pandoran forest makes you feel like you are in the “Billie Jean” video.

If your Avatar body gets switched off in the jungle, none of the wild animals will eat you. But they will come for you, if you are just talking a walk.

If some element is called “unobtainium”, why the hell would you even try to obtain it? Go look for something called “maybeobtainium” or “definitelyobtainium”. You might stay alive.

All aliens, in every movie, resemble humans in some form or the other. I will celebrate, the day, someone makes a movie with an alien that looks like a blob or a brick or even a football.

If you use your security credentials to free traitors, you can still remain as the “inside man” without being caught, or anyone suspecting you, or anyone even looking at the access records.

Dragons (and other animals) become your servants if you plug your hair in their antenna.

A spirit which is reportedly un-biased, will suddenly wake up and become angry at the invaders, when a human-alien hybrid plugs his hair in the trees’ antenna.

If you hide in an area, where the signals are disrupted, laser guided missiles don’t work etc etc; you’ll find that planes & helicopters will work perfectly, and so will two-way neck radios, and webcam chats.

Honourable mention:
Avatar plot observation

(Image source: Fail Blog)

Discover your India - Part 1

2010-01-07T21:55:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction, and made for humourous purposes. Any resemblance to anything living or dead, past or present, is purely co-incidental, and non-intentional. The scientific, political, and other kinds of analytical explanations are utter crap too. Read at your own peril.

Question: Why does India stink so much?

(Image source: Engrish)

This question was suddenly shot out at me by a South African friend of mine, who had been to India a while back, and didn’t find the trip, uhm, pleasurable. The question left me dumb-founded, but then I gave some thought to it, and realised, maybe it doesn’t stink, or maybe my sinuses acted up a lot and blocked out the smell, or maybe it did stink.
But why?

Here are some plausible theories.

1) Aquaphobia: In school or college, didn’t we always have one student in our class, who seemed to despise/fear water with a passion? They had lesser baths than a cat, and in much lesser lives. And to boot, they didn’t even lick themselves clean. And I’m sure no one else even dared to help them in the licking. But that's another discussion. So let's say, from a class of 50 students, 1 didn't bath, and hence stank. That makes it 2%. India has a population of 1.136 billion people. So 2% makes it almost 22 million stinking people. That’s more than half of the population of South Africa. Can you imagine the stink?

(Image source : LeomarChildon)

But in the case of politicians, the percentage is higher. Almost 20%. There was a Ram Prasad Muniya, who I believe, only bathed whenever he won the elections. That means, once in 4 years. Or 2, if you count the interim elections. No wonder, he captured the polling booths easily, because wherever he went, the people just fled, and he happily kept stamping ballots for himself. That also explains the Florida elections in 2000, doesn’t it?
The police percentage is also on the same lines.
But I must confess, I also have a huge aquaphobia. I remember it started ever since I heard their song "Barbie Girl"

2) LackOToiletoVitis: Dharavi, the biggest slum in Asia is situated inside Mumbai. A country within a city. That’s like Vatican City to Rome. Without the priests, that is.
It is home for more that a million people. That probably, is just a little less than the population of the entire Johannesburg city and its suburbs. With more than a million people, and lesser than thousand public toilets, where would the people do their daily ablutions? You guessed it. Railway tracks. So every morning - if you travel by train (wishing you had sinus) - you'd see and smell hundreds of people playing the traditional game of "Kho-Kho" on the sides of the tracks. Albeit, without rules & points, and with a tumbler full of water.

(Image source: MumbaiPulses)

I heard some of the politicians join in too, probably to beg for votes. And some cops as well, but mainly to collect bribes from the squatting people, for littering in public places. The politicians who are lurking nearby, then collect their share from the cops. That’s probably how the phrases "Killing two birds with one stone" & "I don’t take sht from anyone." originated.

3) O C S (Obsessive Curry Syndrome): India is mother to the curry. We can make curries of anything and everything. You name it. We'll even make curries from curry. Millions of households making curry at the same time, could waft in so many different smells in the atmosphere. (The spices help in clearing sinuses, or so I've been told.) Hundreds of new cooks burning their curries, thus adding to the smell.
Then there's delicious curry, stale curry, rotting curry, thrown-away-in-the-garbage curry all contributing to the nasal assault, which brings to my next point.
Confession: I suffer from curry obsession. Blame Tyra Banks and her show for it.

(Image source: Wikipedia)

4) Refusomania: Garbage is to India, what silicon is to Pamela Anderson, stupidity is to Britney Spears or Jessica Simpson, and home videos are to Paris Hilton. It adds to the appeal. And we keep repeating it.
Garbage from industries, garbage from households, garbage from the millions of animals roaming the streets, and politicians who are garbage in its purest form. Let's just say, we love to dump our refuse. The phrase, "The world is our oyster", rings true with a twist, "The world is our dumping ground". It starts from, just outside our, to anyone else’s window.

(Image source: 11thHourAction)

Just recycling garbage, would be a huge industry with job-potential for thousands. Can you imagine the amount of bribes that can be collected during the recruitment process?

5) Anti Gravity Cesspool: Newton’s laws of gravity are defeated in almost all parts of India. And so are the laws of hydraulics. "Water seeks its own level." We've always heard that water will always sink to its level. Well, the water in the drainage and sewage systems of India tends to do the opposite. It spills out.
But hold on; there is a scientific explanation to it, I'm sure.

(Image source: PepperKnit)

It is pressure you see, and Newton's 3rd law "Every Action has an equal and opposite reaction." Billions of people stomping on the earth above, gets an equal and opposite reaction from the earth below. Since it can’t kick us back, it spews our sewage back at us. And there's nothing we can do about it. Isn’t that what our leaders have been telling us so long?

=================================

Thus ends Part 1 of Discover Your India. In future sessions, we will cover the following burning questions.
- Why is groping not awarded National Sport status in India?
- How to spit more effectively. An exercise in grooming.
- Bad roads and their benefits to health.

Thought for food?

2010-01-07T05:25:00.000-08:00

This is a legend of many moons ago.

The legend says that a long time ago, there lived 4 brothers. Marhaba, Shuye, Dhama & Vindoga. They lived a happy life. They had big farms where they grew crops, herded animals, planted fruitful trees. You could say, they had created paradise. There was a lot of love between the brothers. They lived together, shared everything amongst themselves, everyone contributing to the family equally. They were a perfect, loving, joint family. Never a quarrel between them. Everyone lived happily under one roof. It was perfect. Except for one thing.

As much as the brothers loved each other, they also loved the other people in the world, and always tried to help everyone else in any way they could. But they were troubled by a few things. The rest of the world was still living in caves, hunting like animals, scavenging for food, and just getting by day to day. They were very poor, not organised, no education, and most importantly no food. The people didn’t have the means to make their own food, and always relied on scraps. Scavenging during the days and nights, fighting and killing each other over morsels of food, travelling across lands trying to find scraps to eat. It was a bad sight, and it broke the brothers hearts.

They couldn’t understand why the other humans were in this state. “Why can’t they just farm, and make their own food, instead of begging, borrowing, stealing & killing for it?”, was the question most often heard in the brothers house. “Why did God make us so self-sufficient, yet leave the rest of his children in such a dependant state?”, they kept asking each other. They had heard stories of marauding, murder, pillaging, and barbaric behaviour amongst the people, all for the sake of food.

“You see, we need to show them the way.”, Vindoga, the eldest brother, declared one day. He knew his brothers couldn’t take this anymore, and had to make a decision.
“Yes, I agree. We can’t keep procrastinating any more. These people need our help.”, Marhaba, the second one pitched in.
Dhama, the youngest one warned, “You know what they do to people who go to help them, don’t you?”
“Dhama, your brothers are right”, said Shuye. “We have to teach them how to live.”
“I know what you are saying, brother Shuye”, agreed Dhama, “We have to think of a plan, so that they don’t end up killing us, and destroying each other over food.”
The brothers all knew the truth in Dhama’s warning words. But they couldn’t bear seeing the people of the world in this state, and all of them wanted to help.

“I have a plan”, declared Vindoga, “We all go our separate ways and teach people the secrets of making food.”
“No we can’t leave each other. We are all we got. I won’t be able to live without my brothers.”, it was the youngest Dhama. “We know how you feel dear Dhama”, said Marhaba, “but brother Vindoga is right. In order to teach the most number of people, we have to branch out, and find as many people as possible. We won’t be able to do that if we stay together in one place. We have to teach them what our father taught us. We have to pass that knowledge to them.”
Dhama looked at Shuye, and Shuye nodded in agreement. There was no other way. They had to bear the separation, if they had to save the rest of the brothers and sisters in the world. Else the world would end in destruction. Right now it was all chaotic in the human race. There was no method to the madness. Everyone was behaving like barbarians. Killing, maiming, slaughtering for food. The brothers knew, the only way to stop this, was to teach the people how to grow crops, and make their own food. Even if it meant the brothers could no longer be together.

And so it was decided.
Vindoga would head East. Marhaba to the North. Shuye would go off to the West. And Dhama would seek the South.
The brothers knew that it was a painful decision, but they loved the humans as much as they loved each other, and personal sacrifices were in order to achieve greater good. That’s what their father had always taught them.

So the day came for them to leave on their individual missions. After a lot of sad goodbyes, and plentiful hugging, the brothers set off in different directions. They had given up their house, their farms, their lovingly maintained lands, and also their blood ties, in order to provide help for the rest of humanity. Every brother had a weary heart due to the separation. In the past, they had never been away from each other for even one day, and now they were separating forever. But there was hope, there was a possibility for the future, a glimmer of salvation for the rest of the world.

Many years passed.
Vindoga, in the east, had settled down in a malachite rain forest, surrounded by deep rivers, and glacial mountains. Marhaba to the north, had created refuge in the tall snowy mountains, over-looking vast valleys. Shuye had travelled to the fallow fields of the east, nestled in the crook of high hills just next to the sea. Dhama, had meanwhile found a lush oasis in the middle of the southern desert.

Unknownst to each other, all of them had set up base in their respective areas, and built a small refuge for themselves, and for the people they had came to help. They had created farms, planted native crops, and built a sanctuary in the middle of nowhere. Slowly the neighbouring people, after hearing tales of the mysterious wanderers, came to visit them. The brothers welcomed them with open arms, gave them a refuge to stay, and started educating them in the ways of life. Slowly, and with the passage of time, their sanctuaries grew. More and more people started coming. The brothers were making lots of food to feed the hungry stomachs of the wandering nomads around them. This was a big change to the barbaric lifestyle that the local people were used to living for ages. Home cooked food, plain but nutritious, filling and uplifting. The fame of the brothers grew. More and more people started coming to their refuge to quench the pangs of a hungry stomach, and a depraved soul.

All of the brothers were excellent cooks. They knew how to use the indigenous plants and animals to their advantage, and they created their respective cuisines around the materials available to them. Marhaba in the mountains used a lot of mountainous berries and herbs in his cooking. Dhama in the desert was adept at using the various palms and cacti that grew there. Shuye had planted fields of wheat, and used the sea, and its salt in his food preparation. Vindoga, used a lot of the forest plants, roots & spices, and cultivated rice paddies. Each brother had used Mother Nature to perfect their respective cuisines. They were living in accordance with nature, and were feeding countless men, women, and children. Everyone was happy.

But there were still many people in the surrounding areas who couldn’t come to these sanctuaries. So the brothers kept travelling through their lands, creating smaller retreats for the local people around them. Slowly, their presence grew over those lands. More and more people were being fed by the brothers’ retreats sprinkled across the lands. They even sent out trusty messengers to take the word of their food, across to lands far away, so that none of the people missed eating a good meal. So that no one slept on an empty stomach.

It was all going well, and many moons passed. The brothers realised that there were still people in the world, who couldn’t come to the many sanctuaries spread all over. So they created recipe books, and guidelines, which their messengers could carry and distribute amongst the many people. These recipe books would teach the people how to grow crops, how to maintain fields, how to use the native materials and prepare food for themselves. These books would teach the people how to live a human life, far removed from the barbarisms that many of their ancestors had seen. The sanctuaries grew.

After a lot of years, and after seeing their labour of love gather fruit, one by one, all of the brothers passed on to the eternal life, content and happy at making a difference to humanity. Their legacies, however lived on, in the generations of people that were left behind. The brothers had departed sated and blissful, fully aware that no one in the world would every go hungry again. That no one in the world will resort to killing, stealing, marauding for food again. That no man, woman, or child shall ever sleep hungry again. Yes, the brothers had achieved what they had set out for. Their satisfied souls reunited in the other eternal life, content and proud of each other’s achievements. The four brothers were one again.

Meanwhile, on Earth, their loyal followers had elected Head-Chefs to take over the respective retreats. The Head-Chefs gathered around lesser chefs, and decided amongst themselves that their founders legacies should live on forever. They gathered all the various recipes, guidelines, rules, methods that their founders had passed on for years, and bound them in a single book format for ease of use and reference. They did not want the words of their founders to disappear amidst the sands of time. The respective Head-Elects made many copies of these books, and gave them to different messengers. They wanted the messengers to travel to far-away lands and spread the word of their founders. The messengers travelled far and wide, creating more and more sanctuaries as they went. Using the reference books, the messengers set up more and more camps, and gathered plenty of followers. The world was big, but slowly and surely, the spread of the four sancutaries was enveloping the lands.

Years and years passed on. The head-chefs too passed on for eternal life. Newer head-chefs were elected. Newer recipes came in. Newer materials were gathered. Newer lands were encompassed. The enterprises were growing bigger and powerful. They had resources, manpower, materials, technology. And they had the “Books”. As man evolved, so did his adaptability. As his reach grew, so did his ego. The “Books” which humbly started off as a set of guidelines for people to live, adapt to nature, live in accordance with the native resources, and create food for themselves using the abundance around them, had now grown into a massive Know-It-All that every respective follower lived by. The “Books” became sacred. The recipes became holy. The guidelines -- like cutting the vegetables in a certain way, washing the fruits in a specific way, planting the crops in a particular method, checking for weather patterns, using different plants for different seasons -- all became rituals. And the sanctuaries, which started off as small refuges & retreats, became Enterprises. And slowly, the enterprises became Empires.

The empires were growing more and more powerful. And so were their head-chefs, who had now turned into Emperors. They needed more power. They needed more followers. Eventually the empires, after criss-crossing the world, finally crossed paths with each other.

Their paths were meant to cross.

The brothers knew that from the start. They knew that the world was small, and people were plentiful. Sooner or later, their sanctuaries would inter-mingle. They had hoped for this. They knew that inter-mingling would prove beneficial to everyone. Imagine the love and comfort each person of the respective refuge can give to the other. Imagine the blend of cuisines it would create. The cultural potpourri would be delectable. Each cuisine different, yet the principle behind it the same. The brothers had planned for it. Before they set off, they had sat down and created a set of rules that they would adhere to. A set of principles that would be universal. A blend of recipes that would be unique and different based on the land they occupied, yet having the same uplifting effect on the people who ate the food.

The methods were different, the result the same.

The brothers knew they would use different plants, crops, fruits. They knew that the method of cleaning, cutting, preparation would be unique to each area. But they also knew that the goal would be the same. Each person who eats the food, feels happy and blissful. They get a restful night’s sleep. They get renewed energy and vigour, and sustaining life to carry on for the next day. The brothers were aware that people using their guidelines, however different, would never go hungry again. They would learn to live amidst nature, use its bountiful resources, and learn how to cook for themselves. They would reach salvation. The brothers had created different paths to the same destination. The brothers hoped that their sanctuaries followers meet each other and live peacefully, feeding each other the delights that they prepared.

Everything in co-existence. Everything symbiotic. Everything peaceful.

But reality was different. When the paths of the respective empires eventually crossed, there were clashes. Each empire saw that the other empire was different. They saw each others’ “Books” and realised the differences in them. They saw that each empire had different recipes. They saw that the methods of preparation were different. They saw that the ingredients were something they were not used to. Everything was different. Everything was scary. They had come to trust their respective “Books”. They had come to worship their “Books”.

The brothers had never intended this to happen. After all it was just a set of guidelines which led to a full stomach. Which led to salvation. But no, the Head-Chefs for generations had transformed the “Books” and the recipes it offered into something Holy. Something Sacred. Something to Fear and Revere. Something to Worship. Something to Live By. Something to Die For. And eventually, something to Kill For.

The clashes increased. Each empire with its set of upbringing, backed by their “Books” and “Flags” and “Rituals”, thought IT was the only supreme One. They wanted the others to leave their respective customs. They wanted everyone to follow what they had brought to the world. And no one backed down. Each follower was vehement & fanatic in what he or she believed. Each follower thought his or her identity would be destroyed as long as the other empires were still existing. So they set out to destroy the other empires. The wars were fought long and hard. For many years. For many generations. Many lives were lost. Much blood was shed.

Centuries passed. The legend says that the respective empires are still fighting. Eating their own food, and refusing to touch the food of the “other”. They prefer going hungry than to eat from the “other” hand. They would much readily cut the “other” hand, instead of letting it feed them. The brothers passed on, but their legacy still remains. The recipes/rituals remain in some form or the other. None of the new followers know the principles behind the preparation/customs, the mechanics behind the purpose. The “Books” remain. The language has been lost, taken over by newer languages. Newer translations of the “Books” are rife and in abundance. People worship them. They hold them dear, they live by them, they die by them, and they are willing to kill for them.

The founding Brothers have been transformed into Gods / Prophets / Divine souls. The Head-Chefs have become Saints / Priests / Apostles. The way of sustaining life that the brothers taught has transformed into Religions with millions of followers. Each Empire growing by the day. Each empire trying to prove its superiority to the other. And life goes on.

Everything has been transformed into something new. But the message of the brothers has been lost. The PURPOSE of the brothers that set out to feed people, turn them from barbarians into humans, teach them how to create food for themselves, to live a blissful, self-sustaining life, has been lost in the passage of time. The followers still make food, but they still sleep hungry. They still grow crops, but they do not know why. Nature also doesn’t provide much bounty these days, because the followers lost the method of living in accordance with it. They blindly follow the recipes, but wonder in confusion when the cuisine doesn’t turn out as promised by the “Books”. The traditions are there, but the essence is lost. The rituals are there, but the aim is lost. The empires are there, but the sanctuaries are lost. The religions are there, but the soul is lost. The food is still there, but the hunger still remains. People just forgot how to eat.

And somewhere the eternal blissful souls of the four brothers meet, and wonder what they did wrong. They set out to transform humans into creators, but the humans ended up being destroyers.
The brothers shrug their shoulders in resignation, shake their heads in disappointment, and hug each other in solace. They know that someday the humans would awaken. The hope that someday the destroyers would realise the futility of their ways, and turn into creators. They wish that someday the hand that now cuts others, will turn into a hand that makes food and feeds others. There is one message that they still wish to pass onto the starving humans. The eternal message that their dying father passed onto them. The message that resonates in eternity, and will remain forever. The message that they wish each of their followers imbibes, and understands.

That message is, “Know thy food. For thy food shall set thou free.”

Paranormal Activity - Activate your terror - 10 things I learnt

2010-01-07T02:00:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: I am not being paid by the filmmakers, or the distributors, or anyone else to write this. Although I wish they did.

I won’t assume that you have been living under a rock for the last year or two, and haven’t heard of “Paranormal Activity”. I would instead assume that you have already watched it.

A movie that was made in 2007, by a debutant film-maker, Oren Peli, finally found its way to haunt worldwide audiences in 2009, courtesy of Steven Spielberg & the people at Paramount. And haunt it did. Audiences called it the scariest movie of the decade. Critics agreed. Box office confirmed. A movie that was shot in one week, in the director’s own house, with a budget of just $15000, turned to be the biggest “Return On Investment” in movie history, earning almost $150M world-wide.

Peli managed to use unknown actors, a shoe-string budget, a single camera, minimal special effects, his own house, his deepest fears; and gave us an instant horror classic. A terrifying movie that will stay with you long after you leave the movie halls (that is if you haven’t run out of the theatres halfway in the movie). It will bring out your subconscious fears. It will play tricks on your imagination. It will creep you about normal happenings in your own house. It might even polarise opinions. You might love it, or you might absolutely hate it.
You decide.
If you haven’t seen the movie yet, go and watch it. And don’t forget to switch the lights off, once you get in bed that night.

SPOILERS follow ahead. DO NOT read further if you have yet to see the movie.

10 things I learnt from Paranormal Activity:

If your girlfriend is scared about things that have been haunting her since she was a kid, be a douche-bag and do not care about her feelings, or fears.

Normal occurrences, like keys on the floor, chandeliers swinging, wind blowing, doors moving and closing, can turn out to be the precursor to the worst thing that could ever happen to you.

If your house is haunted - instead of calling the experts - try and deal with the situation yourself. A camera helps.

If you know there is something scary lying in wait just beyond your closed door, go and open the door in the middle of the night, usually without switching the lights on.

Sprinkle powder on the floor to see if any footprints are made. If you do see ghostly footprints in the night, go and investigate where they lead to. In the middle of the freaking night.

When your photo-frame turns out smashed, and your face in the picture is slashed, keep staying in the house to deal with the situation.

If you find messages scribbled for you, telling you about a previous demonic possession, think of it as a prank your neighbours might be playing on you.

If you know there is a demon in your house, provoke it, by using cameras, Ouija boards, taunting it with your stupid jokes.

If a psychic tells you that he senses a malevolent presence in your house, and requests you to stop provoking it, be a man and tell the psychic to get lost.

Remain blissfully asleep, while your girlfriend wakes up in the night, stands by your bedside, and glares down at you for a couple of hours.

2 additional things:

Watch out for the next movie by Oren Peli. It’s called Area 51, and scheduled to release in 2010.

Hope and pray that the studios don't get greedy and release a crap sequel. Remember Blair Witch 2?

Stupidity or Status-updity

2009-12-30T01:44:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It is meant only for humour purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or situations, past, present, or future, is pure coincidental, and completely unintentional.

Facebook (the holy grail of meeting friends, and keeping in touch with your loved ones.) has over 350 million users and counting. Since its inception in Jan 2004, it has grown and grown, and has recently become the biggest social networking website in the world.
Stocked with different features, and many third party applications, no wonder so many of us are addicted to it, and spend hours on it.

Some of us use Facebook to keep in touch with our old and lost (but recently found) friends. Some use it to network. Some use it to find new friends, and acquaintances. Some just use it to make farms, or wage tribal wars, or create civilizations, or play scrabble, albeit virtually. Some use it to keep everyone informed about what’s going on in their lives. That’s where status updates come into the picture.

“Status Update”, is a micro-blogging feature provided by Facebook, which allows users to keep everyone in their universe well-informed about the proceedings in their lives. Basically, it allows one to state what’s on their mind. With so many people around, and so many status updates being posted, it’s no wonder that it’s one of the most used features of Facebook. Every day, or even many times a day, users keep updating their status updates, telling everyone else, what’s on their mind. And in some cases, literally, “what’s on their mind”.

Makes for some interesting reading, I must add.

Recently a man was acquitted of robbery charges, when he used the status update as his alibi. He was at home updating his status, when the robbery was happening. Facebook and its IP tracker vouched for him, and he was set free.
A man kept posting updates on twitter regarding his vacation, which led to his house being burgled.
In other news, 2 teenage girls, after being trapped in a drain, used the “status update” to call for help, instead of using the same phone to call the police.
Another man, after realising that there was an intruder in his house, went on twitter and posted updates, instead of calling the police.
Similarly, a groom paused his wedding ceremony to update his relationship-status on Facebook.
Somewhere else, a man dumped his wife, by updating his relationship-status on Facebook.
The Twitter CEO’s wife, was tweeting real-time during childbirth. She was telling her 14000 plus followers, when her water broke, when she got to the hospital, during contractions, and even when she decided to take “Epidural”

These are just some of the stories, to show how the social networking bug has bit everyone. Social networking is here, and will stay with us, until a new fad comes up.
But until such a time, we are happy with status updates, where people can speak their mind about anything and everything.

Some use it to tell everyone what they are doing, which can range from the inane, “I’m in the shower”, to something mind-boggling, “I just got enlightened.”
Some are just content with describing what they are eating at that moment, “I can only afford Burger and fries at the moment”, whereas some are proud to boast that they are having the best whiskeys ever “Johnny Walker Blue please, no ice”. Some use it to praise their loved ones, “My child just passed 1st grade”, while some use it to praise themselves, “I just got back from a whirlwind conference where I was awarded the Best Napper Award.”

Whereas some just use it to speak in an unknown language, filled with acronyms and exclamation marks, but which makes no sense whatsoever, “OMG!! WTF??? I cnt beliv its snowing. LMFAO!!!!!”

I hate to interrupt here, but seriously, what is that supposed to mean? First, who speaks in that language? And second, how does the simple act of, hastily-cooled-watervapour-changing-its-state-to-ice-without-becoming-liquid-first-and-falling-to-the-earth, warrant such a highly emotional response?

Let me go on record to state that, YOU, are only allowed to use “OMG, WTF, and LMFAO” in one sentence, and with so many punctuation marks, in two conditions, and two conditions only.

1) YOU are under the age of 14, and were home-schooled on Hannah Montana movies. ("OMG!!!! WTF??? Miley doesn’t want me to do my homework. LMFAO!!!!")
2) YOU just survived an improbable act of a meteor falling inches in front of you, and are still shaking from the fear/excitement. ("OMG!!!! WTF??? A meteor just landed in front of me. I’m still shaking and looking at the mile wide crater ahead of me. I can’t believe I survived. LMFAO!!!!")

Apologies for the digression, but let’s carry on.

Most of the time, the “what’s on your mind?” is used to brag about something or the other.
In-fact, this bragging is so famous, there is even a word in the Urban Dictionary called Facebrag. (Look it up)

Face-bragging:
To use Facebook as a platform to brag.

Usually, it entails writing something that sounds negative, but essentially trying to boast or brag about something.

E.g.:
OMG, I can’t believe my iPhone 3GS can’t send messages to my bf’s Motorola Droid. This sucks!!! I’m sitting here all alone in a spa in the Seychelles that my baby booked me into, and can’t even tell him how much I miss him. I had told him not to get me that iPhone. Maybe as a punishment I’ll make him get me a new tanzanite pendant. LMFAO!!! HEHEHE!!!

Great stuff. In the midst of all your whining, you’ve essentially told the world, that
a) You are in Seychelles, booked into a spa by your bf.
b) You have an iPhone 3GS, gifted by your bf.
c) He has a Motorola Droid.
d) Apparently he has money pouring out of his ass.
e) He’ll pick up some of that money and get you a Tanzanite pendant.
f) You also want to tell the world, how much you miss & love your “baby”. Possibly to make your girlfriends and ex-boyfriends jealous.
g) Your ass is lying on the floor, because you have laughed it off.

Another e.g.
Damn. My Sony HD 230 inch TV is not switching on. What to do? (That’s because you don’t have enough money left to pay the electricity bills, and they cut off the power, you ‘keep-up-with-the-joneses’ moron.)

I jst shopped for the hole day. Yay!!! LOL! (First, learn to spell “Just” & “Whole”. Second, stop laughing-out-loud after every stupid statement you make. And Third, do we look like we care about the brand of toilet paper you just bought?)

Wow, I just saw “insert latest movie name here”. Best movie ever. (Until the next movie releases, I’m sure.)

I’m having such a blast “insert current activity here” (As long as you are being idiomatic about the ‘blast’, and not idiotic about your terror-links.)

Those, my friends are just some of the forms of face-bragging. You’ll know the rest when you see them.

Incidentally, this word “face-bragging” inspired me to investigate status updates a bit more, and I ended up creating some interesting categories to slot them into.

They are as follows:

Face-bitching:
Using FB to bitch about someone. It could be your parents, your partners, your boss, the weather, the neighbours, your friends, your work colleagues, your life, your country, some other country, politicians, bad drivers. Anything, as long as it’s malicious, and has a sting.

E.g.
What’s up with this f***ed up country? (One of the reasons could be, you being in it?)

My boss is an attention-seeking idiot. (Yes, and he’s also on your friend list reading this.)

This b*tch at work is always stealing all my men. I’ll kill her someday. (Thanks for letting us know that you are not only a wh*re, but also a wannabe murderer.)

Woohoo! [Socksucker United] 4 – 0 [LiverBOOHOOl]! Yay. Take that you mofos. (Well, anyone who’s interested in the game, already knows the score. Those who aren’t, don’t give a damn. So stop bitching about every single league game that is played every single year.)

Face-whining:
This is a subtle modification of Face-bitching, but makes you look more of a victim. Used mainly to garner sympathy votes.

E.g.:
I can’t trust men anymore. Can’t believe I let myself be hurt for the 43rd time. (I’m really sorry for you, Heidi Fleiss, but the responses you’ll get will be, ‘Sorry babe. Not all men are like that. Let me cheer you up by taking you out on a date.’ And the irony is, you will accept. For the 44th time.)

I tripped during my ski trip. My ankle is so swollen, and it hurts. (I see, some face-bragging about a ski-trip also thrown in for good measure. If it’s a hot chick, the guys normally reply. “Oh shame, may i kiss it better for you?” Mission accomplished!)

Damn! My team lost their 20th straight game. I’m so sad. (If you are stupid enough to support - and waste time- watching a team for 20 successive losses, I think, you deserve to be sad.)

Oh no, I’m still at work. Shit busy. I wish I was home already. (Not busy enough to log on and post updates, are you?)

Oh Lord! Why r u doin this to me? Wat hav i dne to desrve this punishment? Pls make it stop. :-( (Forget the lord, even your third grade teacher will punish you for not learning how to spell. And lord doesn’t have a facebook account. Your friends do. Which means, you are seeking sympathy and attention. So get over it.)

Face-ttentionseeking:
Used to post senseless updates just to show the world that you are alive, and trying to get some attention while you are at it.

E.g.:
ABCD is tired (Most people of the opposite sex will reply with, “Can I offer a massage?” Mission Accomplished!)

ABCD is .... (Now what does that mean? Do you not have anything to say? Or you just want to tell us that you know where the “.” is on your keyboard?)

ABCD is zzzz. (Seems you are an attention-seeking somnambulist too.)

ABCD is OMG. Really?? (If you are posting something in the public domain, at-least explain what it is you are mumbling about. Don’t write something half-way just because you want people to message you and ask what’s going on.)

Honey, I miss you. (Why don’t you pick up the phone and call your “Honey”, you cheap-skate? Would you in the future also post “Honey, I’m pregnant.”? We won’t be surprised if you did.)

Face-duhing:
To post the most obvious status updates that make everyone else go, “Well. DUH!”

E.g.:
Yay! It’s the weekend. (I’m sorry, for us in the UAE, the weekend started on Thursday afternoon, so shut the f*** up.)

Or a slightly worse one.

Yippee!!! It’s Tuesday. (Thank you for telling me. I live in Tristan da Cunha, and there’s no way in hell I can find out what day it is.)

And the most abused one

TGIF!! (This probably stands for “Thank God, I’m a fool.”)

Face-quoting:
To post plagiarised quotes, without citing the source, hoping no one knows, and ends up thinking you are so learned / funny / wise.
But we know. Yes, we do.

E.g.:
Any quote by Khalil Gibran. He happens to be the patron saint of all Facebookians. Some slightly learned ones use Rumi, or Kabir, or Nietzsche.

Quotes stolen from sugar wrappers / books etc. Like, “A testicle for a testicle makes the whole world Semenya.”

Jokes stolen from the internet (usually George Carlin or Douglas Adams sayings) and posted as own. (Yes, we also have internet access, and we know where you got them from.)

Face-ermonising:
To post quotes from the Bible, Koran, Gita, Talmud, Dhammapada, and other profound literature, and show the world how saintly you are.
But again, we know. Yes, we do.

E.g.:
Wii Manual (Pg 3 – Para 12): The cord is thy shepherd, and it wilst lead thou to the connection socket. Wiilelujah!

Hackspeare (Homeo and Bully-it): A poser by any other name will still pose.

Face-ilosophising:
To post philosophical quotes that you created, and display your wisdom, or lack thereof.

E.g.:
It doesn’t matter how many times you fall, as long as you land on your soft flabby butt. Also try landing on a trampoline, so it throws you back up. (Profound indeed. Very profound. I didn’t use a trampoline, but I’m throwing up nonetheless.)

You must never lose hope, or stop loving, no matter how many times you are pushed in a sewage tank. Just get back out, and give a hug to the one who pushed you. (Yes, and also cover them in your shit.)

Face-ism:
To use FB as a platform for your racist, bigoted remarks. (This is actually the worst of the lot. The rest of the statuses can be still funny, but this one is never funny. No matter what.)
E.g.:
Pink people are such thieves. They are destroying the country. Somebody teach them manners. (Somebody please teach you decency not to write offensive shit on a public domain. To quote Hackspeare: A Bigot by any other name is still a bigot. Yes, and I mean you.)

How do Indian people travel to India? (At the Dubai airport they whip out their flying carpets and carry on from there. Happy now?)

Face-ism also applies to

posting pictures of yourself waving old discontinued flags
wearing Nazi paraphernalia for Halloween/birthday parties/funerals
colouring your face black/brown/yellow to depict someone of the other race
using derogatory terms in your local language and hoping no one from the other race would notice.

Not cool.

Honourable mentions:
The “LIKERS”: These are the people who are so far up the other person’s posterior that they will like any status, without even reading it. It doesn’t matter if that person has posted “I’m so hungry”, the fan-boys/girls will “Like it”.
Post something like “My mother died yesterday.” And I bet, someone will end up liking it.
Whatever happened to reading and comprehension? The “Like” button is not there so you can make your presence felt. It is there for you to understand good writing and genuinely appreciate what the other person has to say. Not to “LIKE” just any “I’m sleeping / i’m tired / i’m in the toilet drinking.” inanity.
But to each his own.

Which brings us to our last category.

Face-crapping: To post cynical, pessimistic, not-at-all-funny, and absolute crap messages just to get a rise out of people/society/world, and also to brag to the world about how wisely & funnily non-conformist you are.

E.g.:
Any update that I put up. (Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re a smart ass. And we don’t care.)

I hope you enjoyed reading this. If you did, please click on “Like”. If you liked it even more, please leave a comment. If you loved it beyond compare, please share it with your friends, but please don’t plagiarise, and don’t forget to give me the credit and royalties. If you hated it, please ignore everything you’ve read so far, and carry on with your lives.
And while you are doing that, let me just go and post a quick status update, “OMG!!!! WTF???? My toilet paper just ran out. LMFAO!!! Now, how am I gonna, wipe MFAO!!!!”

Happy Face-booking, and prosperous status-updating!

Bungee Jumping

2009-05-04T09:11:00.000-07:00

Giant kids, and their pebble mountains.

2008-09-08T08:28:00.000-07:00

This is my travelogue about Hampi. I took this trip sometime during mid-2005, and had written about it. The article then got lost in my computer's black hole, only to be found today. So, decided to post it, with some interesting links, and updates.

ps: Will post my pictures, when I retrieve them from the aforementioned black hole.

pps: I finally managed to bring the Hampi pictures back from the dead. They're posted in a nice website here or http://rawwasinhampi.shutterfly.com/

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*Giant kids, and their pebble mountains*

I was never a traveller. In my 28 yrs of existence I haven’t visited even 28 places. So when I got a message from my friend FD, asking me if I was game for some travelling, I was very surprised to find myself agreeing, and becoming a traveller in the process.

The next question was, deciding on a venue for our meeting, and it turned out to be the ultra-famous, ultra-mythological, and ultra-old place called Hampi.

Hampi is a small place in north western Karnataka, and it’s said to be inhabited by humans since 3000 years. Man, that's a real big deal when you look at it. Imagine a place where gods like Shiva & Rama, warriors like Hanuman & Lakhsman, and emperors like Krishnadevaraya amongst others have walked upon through the eons.

Now, this place is filled with ruins of the ancient 15th century Vijayanagar Empire, which incidentally was the richest kingdom in the entire world. Most of the ruins are still being excavated by the Indian archaeological society and thus Hampi is declared as a world heritage site and thereby being barred from having any new constructions happening there. Thank God for that, or we would find another Taj Corridor fiasco happening there.

The overnight journey was long, but uneventful. By 9 am, my bus was in boulder territory. This area is a magnificent wasteland. A flat landscape full of huge boulders. There are no mountains to be seen, just heaps of gargantuan boulders, as if they’ve been liberally sprinkled across the ghostly, sparsely vegetated landscape, by some giant hand.

My bus reached Hospet (There is no direct travel to Hampi. One has to disembark at Hospet, and use local conveyance to get to Hampi) at 12 noon, and I found poor FD waiting patiently at the bus stand since 7 am. We finally met, and the Hampi-ria started.

Hampi is a half hour drive from Hospet. We reached there in no time, and booked ourselves into the first hotel that we found. Little did we know that we were being ripped off? Further down the road and beyond the river, lay lots of hotels that were rumoured to be very cheap. But hell, who cares? We were in Hampi.

After lunch, which consisted of a wonderful Spinach Paratha, and a shitty Garlic counterpart, we decided to hit the road. Armed with rented bicycles, FD and I decided to go cycling amongst the beautiful ruins. But before that, we shopped for books and local maps, to aide our travel.

During our cycle ride, we saw monolithic Ganesha idols, wicked looking Narasimhas (whose hands were chopped off by the barbaric Mughal invaders), and gigantic Shivalingas. We also met Manjunath, whom FD had met on the previous trip here. Manjunath was a little older now, but he was the same little wily thief as before. Under the pretext of selling stone goodies, Manju scams unsuspecting travellers using his sugary salesman tongue. We spared ourselves the trouble.

Further down, we saw two beautiful twin sisters disguised as boulders leaning onto each other. Legend has it, they went to seduce some meditating rishi, and he turned them into this. Was I dead, girls? No seriously; with guys like me around, why the hell do you have to try your luck on an old, boring hermit? Serves you right. Now support each other for the rest of eternity.

After the failed love attempt, we saw the Hazara Rama temple, which has the entire Ramayana carved onto it. The dudes of the 15th century had some serious employment issues. They didn't work. Instead, they transformed stones into fascinating pieces of art. Further down the road, there were elephant stables, where you have to buy a ticket just to get in. We paid, but still didn't get the ticket. Art was in ruins but corruption was still going great guns, you can say.

We also saw the Lotus palace, where the queen used to stay during summers. The 2 storied stone palace has an elaborate plumbing system, by which water used to flow throughout the entire structure, thus keeping it cool in the scorching summer heat. (This was during the days before electricity and water pumps, mind you.) Now, owls and parrots stay there. Hurrying to get back to the hotel we missed seeing some places, but hey, they all look the same.

After returning the bicycles, we started exploring the places closer to our hotel. Luckily, we visited the Virupaksha temple just in time to witness the local puja taking place, replete with music, and elephants, and hurrying temple workers, but no tourists, barring us and a few others.

After the puja, we decided to experience crossing the river in a basket. It's called a ‘coracle’ or so FD says. But if FD says something, it's probably true. Later we had dinner at a trippy joint, which had trance music blaring down on us. We decided to skip the Trance party happening on the other side of the river, and decided to call it a day, but not before we had the local security guards shooing us off from the river-front because it was too late.

The next day, we had planned to witness the sun waking up. In actuality, we got up after the sun had not only woken up, but also showered, and had breakfast. So we also decided to have breakfast, and visit the rare stone waterfalls. It's called a rare phenomenon, and most probably so, because it's so rare to catch sight of. We saw a small stream, and had to suffice with that. But hell, we did see a lot of boulders, and banana plantations.

We passed Sugreeva's cave (here the monkey king hid Sita's jewelry, which she had dropped as a bread crumb trail for Ram, during her abduction by Ravan. Read the excellent "Books of Ramayana", by Ashok Banker, for more details.), and the King's Balance.

Then, we decided to see the famous Achyutaraya and Vithala temples. The architecture is so good that it has lasted for centuries, and it was a true delight to watch. This is where you’ll see the famous stone chariot (the stone wheels actually revolve) that’s printed on most Indian picture postcards. The Vithala temple has stone pillars (carved from single blocks), on which musical percussion instruments have been carved elaborately. Not only that, but when the guide hits these instruments, the rock carvings (believe it or not) make the respective sound of the percussion instrument they depict. They are also known as the musical pillars.

More delightful, was the sight of some pretty hippy women posing as Radhas, with their colourful clothes, and local flowers (for some European photoshoot); in the Vithala temple. There was also a gang of Marathi youngsters, who for some reason or the other were busy searching for some dude named Rahul. They finally found the Rahul they were looking for, and he turned out to be a dumb ____ (insert synonym for donkey) who wasn't worthy of his name. (I should probably file a patent for my name now.)

There was also a huge, south-Indian lady, crooning to her hearts delight, in the temple complex. We didn't understand what she was singing, but even our untrained ears could make out that her voice was good, very good. Even I was tempted to sing, but didn't want the centuries old architecture to come crashing down on me. On the other hand, FD was calmly meditating in the midst of all this chaos. After drinking refreshing coconut water, we decided to head back.

On the way back, we saw some more boulders, some more ruins, sleeping pseudo-hermits, and extremely old women. During lunch, which by the way was on the river bank, we were visited by a pea-hen, who in her greed for eating Masala rice, was ready to rip us apart with her wicked looking talons. And I always thought our national bird was a shy creature. Shy???? My posterior. In contrast, this peahen was standing on our table demanding food, food, and more food. Now I know how extortion victims feel.

After lunch, and some lemon tea, we started off on our way to Hospet bus stand, but not before doing some shopping, where we bought some nice stone artefacts and lockets. Gathering our goodies, loads of photographs, and wonderful memories of the long lost grandeur of Hampi, we reluctantly proceeded on our routine, stressful lives.

At the bus-stand, I bid farewell to FD, and started my journey back home. Watching the pristine, boulder strewn landscape for the last time, I quietly settled back in my seat, with my mind filled with memories of poetic art, grandiose architecture, and pebbles of giant kids.
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Further reading:
My Hampi Album
Hampi (Wikipedia)
WikiTravel
World 66
Karnataka Tourism
Amit Kulkarni Images
Webonautics
Hampi Photo Album
BangaloreRockt
XenoTropic
Dignified Cow
Manjunath's Article (No he's not the Manju I mentioned :) )
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RawKu

2008-03-20T03:27:00.000-07:00

Haiku have always fascinated me. (yes, plural Haiku is still referred in the singular noun form. So it's Haiku, not Haikus)
There is something concise, yet deep about them. Something lucid, yet hypnotic. Something simple, yet poetic. Something confusing, yet enlightening.

For those who are not familiar with Haiku, here is what Wikipedia has to say.

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Haiku (俳句, Haiku?) listen (help·info) is a kind of Japanese poetry. It was given this name in the late 19th century by a man named Masaoka Shiki by a combination of the older hokku (発句, hokku?) and the haikai (or verses) in haikai no renga. Haiku, when known as hokku were the opening verses of a linked verse form, haikai no renga. In Japanese, hokku and haiku are traditionally printed in one vertical line (though in handwritten form they may be in any reasonable number of lines). In English, haiku are written in three lines to equate to the three parts of a haiku in Japanese that traditionally consist of five, seven, and then five on (the Japanese count sounds, not syllables; for example, the word "haiku" itself counts as three sounds in Japanese (ha-i-ku), but two syllables in English (hai-ku), and writing seventeen syllables in English produces a poem that is actually quite a bit longer, with more content, than a haiku in Japanese). The kireji (cutting word or pause) usually comes at the end of either the first or second line. A haiku traditionally contains a kigo (season word) representative of the season in which the poem is set, or a reference to the natural world.

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Traditional Rules for writing Haiku:
3-short lines
1-season word
1-cutting word
no rhyme or metaphor
(17 syllables, 5-7-5)

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Some of the greatest Haiku masters were; Basho, Buson, Issa, Shiki, and Santoka.

Following are examples of some of the best Haiku ever written:

old pond
a frog jumps
the sound of water
- Matsuo Basho

The sea at springtime.
All day it rises and falls,
yes, rises and falls.
- Buson

Going deeper
And deeper still
Green Mountain
- Santoka

the first cold shower
even the monkey seems to want
a little coat of straw
- Matsuo Basho

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After getting inspired by these giants, I also decided to write Haiku.
However, I'm going to be blasphemous here (sorry Master Basho), and devise my own form of Haiku.
And I'll call them RawKu. (Yes. I know, i'm being egoistic :) )

A RawKu will comprise of the following rules.:

3-short lines
1-unification word at the end (which also succinctly sums up the message)
no rhyme
(13 syllables, 5-7-1)

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The following RawKu attempt to describe some of my favorite movies, books, and people. Let's see if you can identify them.

Note: There are a couple of Hindi movies in the list.

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Movies:

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caring teacher helps;
disabled child to be a,
star

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monster in city,
shot by handy camera;
death

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handful of soldiers,
against mighty empire;
roar

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man, wife, shining kid;
terror in the wintry cold;
Blood.

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bald psycho killer,
severs hero's wife's head off.
Sins.

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lying musician,
teaches school kids, a way to;
rock

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a trio's project,
lost in the woods, in search of;
witch

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holocaust victims;
owe their lives, to their masters
list

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non linear tales;
mashed together to become
pulp

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a tank of canines;
kill each other, after failed
heist

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ancient culture ends;
with irony to begin,
new

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man with amnesia,
tattoos all wrong messages;
back

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thrid dimension ode;
to serpent nymph, and hero
wolf

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union soldiers bet;
and lose to peasants at own,
game

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doctor from alba;
serves leader, who is tyrant
king.

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hide and seek story;
of boston gang leaders, who
left.

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Books:

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parable of bird;
that refuses to remain,
gull

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in pursuit of dreams.
young lad transforms life into;
gold.

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father of gang lords.
sees son with broken nose, turn;
don.

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priest kills himself to,
evict howdy; who possessed
girl

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lad follows buddha;
before attaining final
truth.

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ageless people,
in utopian paradise;
peace.

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quest for kings treasure;
leads durban hunter,
to lost mines

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Climbing the mountain;
Cost many lives in the thin
Air

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bridges see couple's
failure in a forbidden;
love

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People:

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never born or died;
Master, entered our lives.
O

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Spread the Love NOW!

2007-12-31T06:49:00.000-08:00

The Three Monks – Wade of The Middle Way, Kenton of kentonwhitman.com, and Albert of Urban Monk.Net announced a group writing project called 'Spread the love NOW', where they invited readers to send them stories about compassion, kindness, & love.

It all amounts to spending life in the NOW living every moment to the fullest.

Further details can be found at either of the three links below:

http://kentonwhitman.com/blog/2007/12/21/spread-the-love-now-group-writing-project/
http://www.urbanmonk.net/233/spread-the-love-now-group-writing-project/
http://themiddleway.net/2007/12/21/spread-the-love-now-group-writing-project/

The following submission is my 2 cents.

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A Sense of Equinity
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Animal Cops Houston, a reality show on Animal Planet, showed a story about 3 neglected and deprived horses being rescued.

Prologue:
One morning the Houston SPCA gets a call about a few mistreated horses in a stable. When they go to check, they see a terrible sight. Three extremely weak horses were found barely standing in the stables. They didn't have food, nor water. And they were almost skeletal. The experts on that show said that it takes about 6 months of food deprivation for a horse to get in that state.

One horse, Playboy 2000, in particular was in an alarming state. He was the weakest of the lot. One could see almost every bone in his body. He had scars all over his body, which was evidence that he was beaten and tortured. His name was branded on his body, by using the most rudimentary methods. He seemed like he was on the verge of collapsing. The worst thing that the SPCA saw over there was, a barn full of hay, in sight of the horses. The horses could see the hay, but they couldn't reach it. This was the worst form of torture a hungry being can be subjected to. Imagine being hungry and tied up for weeks, and you can see plenty of food nearby, but you cannot reach it.

The horses, in their quest for nourishment, had gnawed off the wooden railings of their stables. It was pitiful to watch, and understandably, the SPCA people were furious. When they questioned the owner, he mentioned he owned one horse, while his father owned the other two. They were apparently training the horses for rodeo championships. It took all of the chief officers resolve not to smack that owner right there.

Fortunately the horses were confiscated and taking to the SPCA clinic for immediate treatment. The doctor, a lady, was shocked to see the horses in such a state. She was particularly worried about Playboy 2000, for he looked the worst. They immediately started the treatment, and provided food for the horses, but it seemed Playboy was giving up the battle. He collapsed in the stable, while still chewing the hay. A fully grown horse, collapsing down, holding onto the hay in its mouth for fear of letting go, and trying to chew as much as he could to survive. Talk about the effects of cruelty to animals.

It took almost all of the crew to lift the poor horse up and put him in slings, so his body weight could be supported by the harness. His legs were too weak to support him, and lying down would damage his vital organs. Some of the staff volunteered to stay back, and see the horses through the night. It was important that Playboy survived the night.

Miraculously he did. As did the other two horses. Due to the constant treatment by the dedicated SPCA staff, all 3 horses regained their strength, and health. The owners were arrested on charges of cruelty to animals. They were fined, the horses taken away from them, and they were ordered community service.
Playboy steadily regained his health, and was later adopted by a lady.

After a few months, the SPCA doctor went to check his progress, and was astounded to see the complete recovery of a horse who everyone thought would die. He was up to his prime health, well muscled, well fed. All his wounds had healed. The scars were just a reminder of the terrible ordeal he had gone through for many months. But he wasn't complaining. His new owner was treating him well, she loved him a lot, and he loved her in return.

To show the doctor, she saddled him up, and took him riding. It was tearful to watch him fully fit, doing the rounds, working his muscles, and listening to every word his new owner was telling him, trying to heed to every command.
He was a beautiful horse, and the owner mentioned that there was no regret, anger, or sadness in him regarding his ordeal. He had a big heart, he was very loving, and keen to please his new owner.

This story is not about the cruelty that human beings can inflict on creatures they deem lesser than themselves.
It is also not about the compassion, and kindness shown by SPCA to rescue the ill treated, and bringing them back to health.
This story is also not about the generous new owner, who adopted a tortured animal and treated him as her own, giving him a new lease of life.

This story is about the horse, Playboy 2000, so you better hear it from the horse's mouth.

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I would have loved to call myself Bucephalus, because I am fond of Greek history, and have always wanted to be the horse no one could ride, except Alexander the Great himself. Or I could call myself Nelson, after my ancestor, on whose back George Washington rode in most of his famous battles. But you can call me Playboy 2000, because my dear master, may God bless his soul, named me that. It's a modern sounding name isn't it? I like it.

You know, I find those ink markings that you humans apply on yourselves, very fascinating. I think you call them tattoos. My master must have heard my thoughts, for one day he gave me my very own tattoo. It was painful at first, but I loved it. It showed that my master loved, and cared for me enough, to name me himself. I was his horse now, and I wanted to prove my loyalty to him.

Our breed has been on this earth for hundreds of thousands of years. And for thousands of years we have worked with humans, helping them get along their busy lives. Humans progressed a lot because of us horses. If there were no horses, our best friends the humans, would still be walking on foot. :)

My mother use to say that horses and humans have shared a great relationship. She always told me to help & care for humans in every way possible. She also said that horses have evolved in the best possible manner. In the wild, only the fittest and strongest horse is allowed to mate with the mare, thus making sure that our gene pool evolves progressively, and gets better with each generation. My mother said I was the best of the lot, and I am proud of that.

I remember when I was bought by my master, a year and half ago, and was taken to his farm. I was sad at leaving my mother behind, but also excited at the prospect of a wonderful new life. I was bred to be a champion and I was going to be that. At the farm, I met my two new friends. Pegasus, who thought he was a flying horse and wanted to fly around racecourses all over the world, and Mr Ed, the Hollywood buff, who wanted to be on television, and movies.

I just wanted to be what my master wanted me to be. He was a very nice man. His name was Joshua, but Mr Ed used to call him Mr T after the famous boxer that he watched in one of the Rocky movies. I think Ed would have called everyone Mr Something, given half the chance. Pegasus meanwhile always day dreamed about flying and winning races. He was the quieter of us. I think he was fed up with Mr Ed's stories of movies and television, and was happy to see me arrive.

We were of the same age, all strong, happy, young horses raring to take on the world. And Joshua or Mr T's farm was our training ground. He told us that he intended to make us rodeo champions. Pegasus wasn't particularly happy with the idea of bouncing around, but Mr Ed was excited because he had seen television cameras at the rodeo meets. And his dream was to be on TV. I was just focused on being strong, and healthy, and do whatever my master commanded. I wanted to make him proud.

The training was rigorous, and it was uncomfortable, because I had led a very sheltered life till then. I never had lack of food, while growing up. My mother always fed me, and there was also the fresh juicy hay at the farm. But at Joshua's training camp, it was different. I think our master was not as rich as others, because our stables were not well built. He must have also worked a lot because he didn't come to see us regularly. But we loved him, and wanted to see him happy. I must have had grown fat during my childhood, not the ideal shape one would want champions to be in. So master put us on a strict diet. We were only to get a little water. No hay, or other food for us until we shed off all the unnecessary fat. But we knew he cared about us, because he had a barn full of the juiciest hay just 2 stables away. That was our prize for working hard.

Our master also beat us with sticks and rods, to make us strong. All of us had wounds because of that. Mr Ed liked it because he thought he looked like his favourite actor in one of his famous movies. I think it was called Rambo or something, where the hero is wounded, and sews himself up. The ultimate act of heroism.
I knew all along that all the beatings were just a test to see how mentally and physically strong we were. No pain, no gain, my mother used to say.

We were growing leaner by the day. Pegasus was depressed due to the weakness and lack of food. We tried cheering him up. Mr Ed even called him a fashion model. I think that didn't help, for he just grew quieter and quieter, until he would no longer talk with us. We also hadn't seen Joshua for many weeks now. He must have been really busy with his new job. I was proud that he thought we were responsible enough to carry on our own, without his interference.

The water had got less and less. And it was also getting dirtier. Mr Ed said something about TV shows of surviving in the wild, where he had seen humans trying to survive in extreme wilderness, getting by on whatever they got, trying to reach their destination. That's when it hit me.

Joshua in his kindness, had deliberately kept the hay out of our reach, to see if we made the effort to get it. We had to free ourselves to get to it, and that was our true test. I excitedly told the others, and all of us tried to free ourselves to get to the barn. We first chewed through our ropes. That was the first hurdle. I was frustrated that we hadn't caught on to Joshua's plan earlier. He must have been disappointed at our lack of intelligence. But he was still giving us a chance to prove ourselves. That was a good sign. I'm sure he was watching us from far, to see our progress.

After the ropes were cut off, we tried jumping over the high walls of our stables. But it didn't work. We had wasted too much time, and in the process got weak. Jumping walls was out of the question, and I'm sure Joshua would be disappointed that we couldn't jump high. After all he was training us for the rodeo, wasn't he? We started chewing through the wood, to see if we could break it. Our master was so thoughtful that he made the railings with wood, instead of concrete or metal. He was still giving us a chance, and I was determined to prove myself worthy of his attention.

Pegasus and Mr Ed had long given up, they said they were saving their energy. Even Mr Ed was quieter now. He said he didn't see the point in the test. But I was determined to prove my master right. I tried cheering them up by showing my progress, but they hardly even looked my way. The wood was hard, but I was still gnawing it patiently. I was getting weaker and weaker, but I knew I couldn't stop and lose the competition. I am a champion remember?

One day, I was still persistently chewing on the wood, but my legs felt weak. I was stumbling around. My eyesight was dimmer than usual, and my body was getting numb. I was extremely exhausted, but I also knew that my master would never leave us like this. After all, humans are a horse's best friends. I kept telling my friends that our master had not given up on us, but they wouldn't listen. They had resigned themselves to die. But I wasn't going to let my master down.

Suddenly we heard cars & vans stopping by, and people coming in. They looked like official people, with their uniforms et al. I knew that the test was over, and the judges were here to see our progress. There were also TV cameras taking pictures of us. I was sure Eddie must be very happy. He was on TV. The judges came inside our stables and started inspecting us. I was so happy to show them my progress, that in my excitement I stumbled around. They patted me kindly and went to check on Pegasus and Mr Ed. I also saw my master at the gate speaking with one of the main judges. They must have been checking with him about the competition rules, and to see if he cheated. But he was an honest man, he never cheated on the rules once. Our progress was testament to that.

We were then loaded in big trucks and taken to the inspection centre for a thorough examination. This was a big competition, and they were taking no chances at all. They wanted to make sure that we had worked really hard. There was a nice lady doctor who checked us, and led us to another stable. There we saw our prize. Juicy hay & fresh water was there waiting for us. I started drinking happily, and chewing on the hay. It had been so long since I had last eaten. I couldn't contain my happiness, and I fell down while still chewing on the yummy hay. I was crying tears of joy because I knew that I had never given up, even though my friends had, and I had been very sincere, and worked really hard. I felt like a true champion that day.

The judges came back in, and lifted me up. They knew I had worked the hardest, so as an extra prize, they strapped me in those slings so I could rest my tired feet. Peg and Eddie never got the harness. "See, I told you to work hard, didn't I? But you never listened." Some of the kind judges stayed with us that night, checking us, patting us, congratulating us on the good work we had done. A few days later we heard that our master had been asked to appear before a big judge, who gave him a "sentence". I think, we finally had won that prize for our master. We were so happy and proud. And we were sure our master was proud of us.

After a few months of resting, we were getting healthier again. My bones were not visible anymore. Even Peg had started talking again. Mr Ed was back to his happy self, because he had fulfilled his dream of being on TV. One day, the doctor judge brought a kind faced lady to my stable. She was very happy to see me, and took me home with her. Peg and Eddie told me that she was my new master. Joshua was just the trainer, trying to make me strong, so that this kind lady could take me. I was in seventh heaven.

I now live with the nice lady, she loves me a lot. I get brushed everyday. Good food, fresh water. Daily exercise. A loving home. What more can I ask for? Even Peg and Eddie were adopted by other kind people. I'm sure they are happy too, and I hope that Pegasus flies someday.
Meanwhile I'm having the time of my life. Just the other day, the kind doctor judge arrived, with the TV cameras. My new master saddled me up, and showed me off to the doctor. She rode me around the field, and I was happily trotting along, eager to please her and the judge. She was whispering commands in my ear, and I was doing whatever she asked of me. The judge was also enjoying it, and both were very proud of me.

Epilogue:
I love my life. I love everyone who has been part of it. My mother, Peg, Mr Ed, Joshua (I hope he won the much needed competition money, so he wouldn't have to work so hard again, and gets to build a better stable for his new horses), the kind judges from the competition who judged us the winners, and of course my new master who treats me like her child. I have become a better horse by the day, and it wouldn't have been possible without the humans. I know my mother would be extremely happy and proud to hear that her son is living a champions life now.

I remember Mr Ed telling us about an Italian movie he had seen, where the protagonist takes part in a very difficult competition. He is very grateful for being part of it, and passes all the tests with a smile. He takes each test as a simple game, and is always kind & loving to everyone. In the end, he wins the competition, and his son gets the big prize. I don't remember the name of the movie, but I have always tried to live my life to the fullest, in the same way, with kindness, compassion, love, and gratitude. And I know it works. Because I know that life is beautiful.

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Sketches

2007-12-30T07:17:00.001-08:00

For a change, this post is not about my narcissistic attempt at being a writer. Here, I'm posting some of the sketches that I did in one of my previous lifetimes.

Being an only sheltered child, left me being at home most of my childhood. So I sought refuge in books, indoor games, and drawings. I was never good at drawing, and still am not, but boarding school gave me an opportunity to hone my sketching skills. I passed the Elementary and Intermediate Grade drawing exams conducted by the JJ School of Arts,Mumbai.

Though I could never get along with colours, (so painting was out of scope) I realised that I can use the pencil to good use, beside scratching my back, & cleaning my nose & ears. :)

I don't have any drawings made during my school days, but these sketches were completed sometime between the years 1990 & 1999.

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1) Diva (1990 or 91): This is perhaps the only sketch I have from my boarding school days. I must have been in Std 8th or 9th at SSPMS, Pune. A classmate showed me a newspaper cutting of a lady singer and I decided to sketch it. You can see the sketch, and the original to its right. Yes, I still have that old cutting. :)
It's a pity that my sketch shows the singer to be slightly healthier than the original. But hey, I was just 13 or 14yrs old then. I didn't know women gave so much importance to their midriff.

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2) Ash (1994): A then angelic, innocent looking Aishwarya Rai was just making her presence felt on celluloid, and I was turning 18. Nice motivation for a teenaged imagination? :)

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3) Rembrandt - Self Portrait (07 XII 94): I was in the first year of IHM, Ahmedabad, sharing an apartment with 4 guys, who would later become my best friends. (We even named our group from the first letters of everyones first names. Vivek, Rahul, Jitin, Mohit, Ashwin, vis a vis V R JAM. Cheesy, I know. But it worked, and yes, this was before the days of 'Dil Chahta Hai'.)
I remember bringing home art magazines from the British Library, and there I saw the dutch master, Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn's self portrait. It still is my most difficult, and most favourite sketch. Sadly I can't find the original for comparison, and I'm sure this one is not a match on the maestro's, but it is my tribute to the great man.

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4) Elephant (04 I 95): Another sketch from one of the art magazines that I used to bring from the library. I don’t know whether it is an african or an indian elephant, though I would put my money on it being african, considering the size of its ears. Because of the dense population in India, and there hardly being any place for humans to walk, Indian elephants have adapted themselves by decreasing, both in size and population. The tigers and lions are also making way for the humans. I always knew animals were more generous than humans.

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5) Age (05 I 95): A wise old man. I was always fascinated by old men with long beards. There is something nice and wise in a lond bearded grandpa compared to a clean shaven one. :) No offence to the clean shaven ones though.

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6) Survive (11 III 95): This originally was a sketch of a black man (I can’t call him african american, because I dont know whether he was from america or africa). He was leaning next to a pole. Since I’m not good with faces, I had to erase his head, and add a macabre touch to the sketch. If I get hold of a coloured scanner, you’ll be able to see the red pool of blood.

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7) My Room (1996-97): This was my hostel room, during the final year of IHM. I used to share it with Ashwin. One can the see the bare existence that we guys used to live during college. The broom, the bags, the torn curtains, the broken mirror on the table. It all makes it seem just like yesterday, even though it was a decade ago. And the book I was reading was “The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Astronomy”.

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8) Scenery (1999): This was at the back of a Readers Digest. Probably a sketch of Venice. I’ve always wanted to visit that city. I am amazed with the idea of cities being built on water, and people using boats to travel. Come to think of it, Mumbai/Bombay also becomes the same, during monsoon.

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9) Skull’O Spider (16 XII 99): A colleague from IHM had once made a similar sketch, and I had to redraw it. So I did. Again, a coloured scanner is required for the correct impact of the sketch.

Recently we had a ceramic painting thing at work, and I drew the same from memory. Needless to say, my sketching skills have gone amateur.

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The End of the Earth?

2007-12-17T08:41:00.000-08:00

17 XII 07 16:30

Recently I saw an interesting program on the history channel. It was called “The End of the Earth”. In it, various scientists were playing out, and describing different scenarios for the end of the Earth. Pretty scary and apocalyptic stuff if you ask me.

The different scenarios were as follows:

1) Asteroid / Comet hit:

Do you remember the movies “Armageddon” or “Deep Impact”? Just like in those movies, a rogue asteroid or comet will come hurtling our way, and crash into earth before we even know it. The crash will trigger off explosions of the Hiroshima kind, thousand of kilometres where it hits. Most people will get killed by the atomic blasts.

Those that don’t, needn’t feel left out, for the amount of dust that is raised by the massive explosion/s, will cloud up our atmosphere. The thick cloud of dust will kill most species by suffocation. Those that still don’t die, wait, more is coming. The lucky survivors will then face months of darkness, because the thick dust cloud won’t let any sunlight through. As most of everything on earth depends on the sunlight for sustenance, we are in for a raw deal. Months of sunlight deprivation, will set off cold waves. Plants will perish, water turns to ice, and animals die. And humans? Well, our tinned food won’t help us much here, will it? Welcome to Apocalypse.

There have been many instances in the past where asteroids or comets have come pretty close to hitting earth. Or in fact have hit earth. A similar scenario caused the extinction of dinosaurs millions of years ago. In 1908, a comet or asteroid, half the size of a football field, burst 5 miles in the sky above northern Siberia, in the region of Tunguska, and destroyed everything for hundreds of kilometres. (If you thought football hooligans were bad, imagine what a football field can do.) Luckily, no one lived there, and only the trees and animals were flattened out by the blast.

Had our celestial visitor been late by a few hours, it would have hit Europe or even America. Think about it.

2) Gamma Ray bursts:

Our Sun (or Sol as it’s called) is a yellow dwarf star in one spiral arm of the Milky Way. And Milky Way, our galaxy is but a small galaxy in the entire universe. The Universe has millions of bigger galaxies, consisting of billions of stars. And many stars are much, much bigger than our sun. Doesn’t help our ego, does it? :-) Anyone who claims, “My daddy is bigger than yours” will be disheartened.

Anyway, so as I was saying. There are many stars out there, which are millions of times larger than our poor old yellow Sol. These gargantuan supergiants are so huge that, our entire solar system could be swallowed in their surface area. And when these supergiants use up their fuel, they save the best for last. Scientists have proved that when a supergiant runs out of fuel, it collapses onto itself. This means, all the mass of the huge star will collapse into itself, causing so much density to concentrate onto one small spot, that it creates a black hole.

A black hole is that greedy glutton that keeps everything to itself. It swallows everything, including light. (And until now, I thought a black hole was that fat kid in my school, who ate everything that passed his way, and he was dark to boot. I thought the word ‘ass’ was silent, in the term black hole, and it applied to him.)

But the black hole can’t swallow the entire star. If you try squeezing a lemon tightly into a small ball at a high speed, you’ll find that some juice and matter will squirt out. Similarly, when the star collapses, some energy will shoot out in the form of gamma rays, before most of the star bursts out into a supernova, and later collapses to a black hole.

These gamma rays are like those laser beams that George Lucas used in the Star Wars movies, only much much much brighter, and lethal.

The flash travels at the speed of light, and it will hit earth if we happen to be in its straight path. The flash is billions and trillions of times brighter than the sun. The energy and radiation emitted by the flash will cook up and destroy our Ozone layer. It will then come inside the atmosphere and burn everything in its path. Those who survive will face acid rains, and harmful radiation from the sun, due to the hole left in our atmospherical armour, namely the ozone layer.

Needless to say, not many will survive, and those who do, will be toast, the moment they step out in open air.

3) Demise of the Sun:

Our friendly, life-sustaining Sun uses up hydrogen to create helium, thus giving out energy and heat. It does have a limited supply of hydrogen fuel though, so when it closes in to the final supplies of hydrogen, it will blow out to keep up to the mass that it has lost. And when it does, it will become a giant red star, swallowing the inner orbit planets, namely, Mercury, and/or Venus. It’ll come pretty close to the Earth, and when it does, any guesses what will happen? Microwave time.

The oceans will evaporate; the earth’s crust will cook, and melt. Humans, and anything living, don’t stand a chance, I’m sorry to say. You can run, but you can’t hide. The earth will be a glowing ball of lava. The sun eventually burns out and cools off to become a white dwarf star. The earth will remain behind, but it will be like a burnt out piece of charcoal.

4) The Big Rip:

Many people have heard of this phenomenon, called as “The Big Bang”. Then there was LIGHT. Our entire universe started from one speck, which burst out creating time, space, and everything in it. Scientists have proved that what grew out from one tiny atom has turned to be the universe, the space, the galaxies, stars and everything in it. And it is expanding.

A common analogy would be to consider a balloon. If you imagine the balloon as the universe, the spots on the surface of the balloon would be galaxies. Now if you blow the balloon, it expands, and similarly, the universe is blowing up like the balloon, and the spots on the surface (galaxies) are moving further and further apart from each other. Sounds fascinating, doesn’t it? If you wanna invade a distant galaxy, do it now. For tomorrow it will be further away.

Now back to the balloon. Ask any kid what happens, when you blow a balloon too much. IT BURSTS. The big rip theory claims that our universe will one day expand and burst. And when that happens, a dark energy comes in and disintegrates everything. And I mean everything. All the planets, stars, galaxies, everything will be shattered. All molecules get destroyed. All atoms split up and disintegrate. No more space, no more time. In other words, nothing remains.

Well what remains will be NOTHING.

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The whole point of the program was to tell us of the inevitability of our destruction. The message here is, we are going to die. No matter what.

If you were noticed earlier, the big capital letters at the start of every scenario above, spell into a single word. DOOM. Pretty good touch hey? :-)

My question is, if everything is going to be destroyed, if everything is going to vanish into nothing, then what is the whole point of us being here? Why are we born in this planet? Why have we been given a mind to think? Why all this competition, wars, progress, scientific endeavours, sporting achievements, business hunger? What is the point of all of this, when all we are going to do is die, and nothing will amount to anything. No matter what we do, no matter what we achieve, no matter how much money we earn. All our achievements, families, businesses, houses, toys, everything will be dust. And no one would remember either. Because there would be no one left to remember.

So is this some kind of a celestial joke?

Is there someone out there looking at us going about our fickle lives, hankering after things, and material objects, killing our neighbours for land, food, & oil, creating a dog-eat-dog world here. Is there someone out there watching us and marvelling at our stupidity, ala “The Truman Show”? Is this the real world, or is there something else out there, like the world in “The Matrix” or “The Island”?

Are we really supposed to be serious about life? Because I don’t really see the point in any of this.

What will I achieve if say:

I climb Mount Everest.
I become the richest person in the world.
I become the president of a country.
I wage wars and kill thousands of people all over something like oil, or land, or a bruised ego.
I get various educational degrees, and land up in a multinational company, earning lots of money, and a prestigious position.
I marry someone and raise a family, who in turn will raise a family, and the cycle continues.
I work my butt off to make sure the family I raise is well sustained.
I save, and earn more money so I can bling myself up, and keep buying more toys, like, bigger houses, better cars, holiday vacations, jewellery, gadgets, so on and so forth.
I keep myself under a blanket of debt, (which I created to sustain my black-holey attitude about life) like credit cards, loans, mortgages, and everything else.

What is the point of anything here?

Why? Why? Why?
All that I know is I am going to die.
And so will YOU.
Do YOU have the answer?

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You are proudly Indian when...

2007-09-04T17:33:00.000-07:00

I got a mail long back about "You are proudly South African when”. I was inspired to write the Indian version (in blue) for that... :) enjoy

~raw

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YOU ARE PROUDLY SOUTH AFRICAN / INDIAN WHEN:

Ø You produce a R100 note instead of your driver's license when stopped by a traffic officer
Ø You produce a Rs50 note instead of your driver's license when stopped by a traffic officer, and he asks for Rs100

Ø You can do your monthly shopping on the pavement
Ø You can do your entire shopping on the pavement

Ø You have to hire a security guard whenever you park your car
Ø There is no place to drive a car, let alone park. Only two-wheelers please. Thank you!

Ø You can count the national soccer team's scores with no fingers
Ø What soccer team????

Ø To get free electricity you have to pay a connection fee of R750
Ø To get free electricity you just have to prove your local leaders that you are from the minority communities and lead a large base of potential voters.

Ø Hijacking cars is a profession
Ø Burning cars, buses, trains is a profession.

Ø You can pay your tuition fees by holding up a sign at a traffic light
Ø To he with the fees, you can start your own tuition and get others to pay.

Ø The petrol in your tank may be worth more than your car
Ø The petrol in your tank is always worth more than your car

Ø People have the most wonderful names: Christmas, Goodwill, Pretty, Wednesday, Blessing, Brilliant, Gift, Precious, Innocence and Given
Ø People have the most wonderful name: Rahul

Ø "Now now" can mean anything from a minute to a month
Ø "Aww Aww" is the sound a stray dog makes, when you clobber him with stones.

Ø You continue to wait after a traffic light has turned to green to make way for taxis travelling in the opposite direction
Ø You do not wait for traffic lights.

Ø Travelling at 120 km/h you're the slowest vehicle on the highway
Ø Travelling at 120 km/h means you are probably dreaming that you are in South Africa.

Ø A bullet train is being introduced, but we can't fix potholes
Ø An underground metro train is being introduced, but we can’t handle the yearly flooding.

Ø The last time you visited the coast you paid more in speeding fines and toll fees than you did for the entire holiday
Ø The last time you visited the coast or had any other form of holiday, you probably spent your life’s earnings.

Ø You paint your car's registration on the roof
Ø You do not paint your car's registration. Just refer to Point 1 above.

Ø You have to take your own linen with you if you are admitted to a government hospital
Ø You have to take your own linen with you if you are admitted to a government hospital, but they never return it when you are discharged, and instead charge you extra for it.

Ø You have to prove that you don't need a loan to get one
Ø You can get loans dime a dozen. The problem is paying them back.

Ø Prisoners go on strike
Ø Prisoners go and strike the guards.

Ø You don't stop at a red traffic light, in case somebody hijacks your car
Ø You do not stop at traffic lights. Kapiche!!!

Ø You consider it a good month if you only get mugged once
Ø You consider it a good month if you only get mugged twice. Once by the criminals, and once by the cops.

Ø Rwandan refugees start leaving the country because the crime rate is too high
Ø Bangladeshi, Pakistani, Nepalese, Tibetan, Sri Lankan refugees start leaving the country because the crime rate is too high and you realize your population is actually very much under control.

Ø The employees dance in front of the building to show how unhappy they are
Ø The employees for once dance inside the building.

Ø You call a bathing suit a "swimming costume"
Ø You wear bathing suits and the cultural/moral police will apprehend you.

Ø You know what Rooibos Tea is, even if you've never had any
Ø You don’t know what Rooibos Tea is. You only drink Cutting Chai.

Ø You can sing your national anthem in four languages, and you have no idea what it means in any of them
Ø You stand up voluntarily while singing your national anthem.

Ø You know someone who knows someone who has met Nelson Mandela
Ø You know someone who knows someone who has assassinated your former prime-ministers.

Ø You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from SA
Ø You actually get these jokes and re-write them and put them on your blog, so everyone can see.

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test2

2005-10-23T11:47:00.000-07:00

test2