Flashbacks of a Fanatic

My Near-Miss Experience

2016-07-16T02:12:00.001-07:00

It was barely a few days ago that Rishie, who joined my current workplace around the same time I did, told me that she had almost missed her flight last week. Well, today even I almost did.

Scheduled to depart at 2205, I left office at 1830 hoping to catch the airport shuttle that passes by the bus stand near my office. Since the Bangalore Airport is approx. 40 kms from the city and it costs a bomb to get there in a taxi, I thought I can try and take a cheaper alternative.

The bus time table said the bus passes by at around 1845 but till 1900, there was no sign of it and I was getting restless. As a contingency, I thought I would book an Uber from there itself in case the bus is late. My phone showed all 5 bars and the 3G sign but the Uber or Ola app did not connect. That, would be the first sign I might miss the flight.

By 1915, when finally, after switching my phone off and on a couple of times, I finally got through to book an Uber, I was not allowed to since my eWallet balance could not cover the bomb that was needed to be shelled out for an airport cab. After a couple more attempts of trying other modes of payment, when I was finally allowed to book one, the shiny green bus with the sign KIAS-12 caught my sight. I let out a sigh of relief and boarded the bus.

My luggage stowed away and my ticket bought, I dialed Lily's number. Just this morning, Lily had jokingly made me believe that her roommate had missed her flight. An hour later, we found out that she actually did miss her flight, which incidentally, was also run by IndiGO. And now, as she picked up the phone, the first thing she uttered, 'Did you miss your flight too'? There, the second sign.

After what seemed like eternity, the bus finally pulled into the perimeter of the airport at 2105. I have witnessed how people have 'mastered' the skill of reaching on time and not having to sit and sulk around waiting for the boarding to start. So I thought, hey, I am kind of a frequent flyer now, so I should try and get this skill under my seat-belt. So I decided to eat something before I went inside the airport.

First stop, Kappi Shop - Had some filter coffee and got a masala peanut bun packed for when I am in-flight

Next Stop, Chai Point - Mulled over the fact if I should have some banana cake. Hmmmm, nah

Up next, Kaathi Shop - Took my sweet time deciding what to order. Then finally ordered a batata wada roll with an extra layer of omelette in a whole wheat paratha

By the time I paid and was waiting in queue to take my roll, the clock showed 2120. Damn, I am cutting it really close today. I hope I don’t miss my flight. FYI, sign number three

Busy chatting with a customer who was praising his paratha swiveling skills, I got even more delayed. At 2225 I decided that I really have to choose between my flight or the roll. So I cursed the guy in my head and made a dash towards the entry gates.

There are these times when you are in a hurry and everywhere you go, the person right in front of you is the laziest person alive? Today I was in the pillion seat. Another 5 minutes later, running here and there to find the check-in counters for my flight, I slipped from under the IndiGO lane ropes directly to the counter asking for a savior to come to my aid or else, I will miss my flight.

The guy at the counter was very helpful but also, equally regretful as he explained how he could not do anything. The counters had closed and there was no way I could board this flight now. The best alternative was to get on the next available flight by shelling out the difference in fair of the two. But wait, another obstacle awaits. The next flight was in 6 hours. With a sad face and thinking how Lily's prophecy had come true yet again, I dragged myself to the reservation counters.

Thanks to Rishie, who had gotten out of a similar jam a few days back by pleading with an administrator to print her boarding pass, I tried to do the same. The lady at reservations heard me, rapidly pressed some keys on the keyboard and told me to rush to the counter again and collect my pass as she had bypassed security and checked in for me. I don’t remember her face nor did I read her name, else I would have thanked her on my return to Bangalore and even mentioned her name in the flight experience feedback.

Boarding pass and two luggage bags in hand (could not check in luggage as well), I dashed towards the security gates. Again skipping under the ropes and shouting, 'I am going to miss my flight, please let me through', I reached the front of the line. I have always hated such people you know. They know they must reach the airport well in advance but still drag their royal asses barely minutes before take-off.

Today, the hater had become the hated. I was in quite a hurry but, the guard scanning me was in a jolly mood. He wondered if he could scan my barcode tattoo, asked me why exactly did I have that on my forearm and if that was 'the thing' these days. Wishing that barcode gave me an all clear passage right to the boarding gates, I smiled in accordance, collected my belongings and now, dashed to the boarding gates.

Against the all-so-mighty prophecy that I would not get air-borne tonight, I reached Gate #8, calmed self, sat down to give some respite to my shaking legs and boarded my flight as one of the last few passengers. Furthermore, to my benefit, I had been assigned the XL extra leg-room seat next to the emergency exits. Some silver lining :D

All's well that ends well right? I am tired and famished as I write this post on my blog, after such a long time, all the while, wishing I had taken waited for that kaathi roll :/

A Trip Down Cambridge's Lanes

2015-09-25T05:07:00.000-07:00

It is 1 am in the morning on Saturday and for once, I have the next two days work-free. After a hearty Friday night dinner with my colleagues, I am lying in bed thinking what am I gonna do the next 48 hours. Such days happen to come by quite rarely when you are onsite but when they do, it is absolutely vital that you make the most of them.

I just realize that a friend of mine, Nicky is in London that week. So I randomly text her and enquire about her weekend plans. Since she’s in town for only a fortnight, maybe she would have something on the agenda. And she most certainly did. She had planned to visit Cambridge with some of her colleagues. She cordially invited me to go along and after a couple of minutes of diddle-daddle, I agreed. We were supposed to meet at the Canary Wharf DLR station at 10AM and then take it from there.

With my chai latte in hand I met Nicky and we set off towards King’s Cross station to catch the hour long train to Cambridge. As we were in the tube, I realized, albeit a little late, that none of her colleagues had come along and to speak of colleagues, I hadn’t told mine about my plans either. They were asleep when I made the plan and I had snuck out before they’d woken up.

Nicky and I met in high school. She’s a year younger to me, hails from Mohali and currently lives in Gurgaon where she’s working with one of the Big 4 accounting firms. It’s incredible how we live merely 10KM away in Gurgaon but were meeting after almost 1 year, 10 thousand miles away in London.

Soon we were on the Great Northern Rail speeding towards Cambridge. That is when I checked in on Facebook, notifying everyone, including my still asleep colleagues that I was going away for the day.

We disembarked on the platform and before starting our tour of the city, desperately hunted for a good place to eat as both of us hadn’t eaten a thing. We roamed around nomadically for a mile or two, searching for a good restaurant on Zomato and finally ended up at Novi.

An ultra-modern setting fused with an ‘earthy’ furnished look, it seemed like a good place for us to break our fast, plus, our table had a good view of the street so we were sold.

With the hunger pangs out of the way, our exploration commenced, one college, one museum and one avenue at a time.

First up were the Fitzwilliam museum and just across from there, the ‘Judge Business School’, which looked more like an overgrown kids’ play den than an MBA college.

These 2 took most of our afternoon. We were in no mood to eat anything but did fancy some afternoon tea and the best place for that, ‘Fitzbillies’, an iconic century old bakery/café was there for the pickings. With tea and lemon cakes and chocolate éclairs in our bellies, we resumed our tour. We roamed around as the hot afternoon sun alternated with dense clouds and every 15 minutes, a tiny hint of rain.

Our sunglasses were on, jackets ready and umbrellas open as we walked through cobbled streets and reached King’s college. The overarching giant of an estate, its towers were a thing of absolute beauty. The structure was so huge and spread out that wanting to see the whole spectacle we had to go around the whole block, taking us almost an hour to cover.

To rest our legs for a while, we sat down at the side of the river in front of Trinity College and saw people row rafts in the water which the Brits call ‘punting’. We sat there for I don’t remember how long and reminisced about a decade ago when we were still teenagers. If I had a memory pensieve filled up with my most treasured memories, most of them would be from the time when I was in high school and going down that path again, about what we used to do, wear and act like, was really wonderful.

As the sun began to set, we chanced upon Church of St. Mary the Great, a centrally located parish church. It was inside the church that defined the moment of the day for the both of us.

The choir was at a rehearsal session at the head of the Church and even without an instrument, it sounded just what I presume would sound like in heaven, if heaven were to exist at all. Sitting there, frozen into our seats listening to all the notes, the Soprano, Alto, Tenor and Bass, it was truly mesmerizing.

For some evening nibbles, we retired to La Tasca, a Spanish Tapas restaurant where we could hardly finish one single platter of chicken wings but downed two full pitchers of Sangria. Outside, we also saw the infamous singing binman.

A bit buzzed, we roamed around, soaking in the city as we came across, ‘The Fountain Inn’, a small pub where we picked up two pints of Guinness and walked up a small hill just opposite the pub, to sit and drink s’more.

From the hill, we could see the whole city and in the daylight even at 9PM, we had the full view of what our day had been spent around. Dark beer laden bottles in our hands, we sat down, brooding and reflecting. With a semi-loud clink, we put our bottles together and cheered to I do not remember what. Gulping down the beverage, we stayed there for half an hour looking over the architectural beauty that is Cambridge.

Soon enough we reached the bottom of the bottle and the hill. Picking up a box of nachos, caught the last train towards London (Aboard which, with no regards towards our fellow passengers, gorged on the crisps throughout the ride), fully content and glad we made this plan.

Buzzed Aboard

2015-05-08T09:14:00.000-07:00

Sitting in seat 23E of the flight Air India AI 111 on a Sunday afternoon, I write this post en route a London (and am posting it 5 days later when I have some time on my hands to actually do that).

Travelling on a company/client sponsored trip for a project, I don’t think I am all that excited at this moment. Well maybe when I land at LHR, it’ll be different?

As the Indian capital and almost everyone I know battles with the scorching heat, I am set to be greeted by the British capital which is currently clocking 9⁰ C. I barely have a jacket or too with me and a ‘trench coat’ or ‘umbrella’? Nope.

As I thought about taking out my laptop and putting this all out in MS Word, I had a can of Heineken in my hand, the 2^nd of the 2 can alcohol quota that can be served to a passenger on board I presume. I am buzzed aboard this flight, in a middle seat between one of my colleagues on the left and an aged woman on my right, frequently peeking at a spectacles clad, skinny cute girl with shoulder length hair sitting in 22K who, after a little recon, seems to be working with ZS Associates, a Sales & Marketing

consulting firm I guess.

With Eminem blasting through my headphones, this is the only time I think I’d get to write something up that is totally unrelated to the project I am travel to London for. Literally swamped with work, we’ve been notified that neither do we have weekends anymore, just 7 day long weeks till this engagement comes to a close by mid-July nor can we hope to go sightseeing in London for the first few weeks.

Oh well. It is what it is. Being the over planner that I am, when we expect the workload to simmer down a bit, I plan to apply for a Schengen visa and visit Paris, followed by Geneva, Florence, Barcelona, Nice, Strasbourg and the likes. Ummm, too much? Well, I’ll try to check boxes against at least 3-4 of those cities.

Visiting Paris has been a dream since after my friends and I got ourselves enrolled at Alliance Française. La Ville Lumière. Oh la la. Well, now it’ll just be an English Channel and a EuroStar ride away. I’d also gotten though an Assistantship program sponsored by the French Education Ministry where I would’ve lived and worked with a primary school in Western France for a period of 7 months starting this October.

Oh it would’ve been so amazing. I would’ve come back totally ripped (assuming I would’ve eaten healthy and worked out regularly which I highly doubt), with fluent spoken French and a very unique sort of experience on my resume. But as always, ambition, career growth and future B-School probabilities came into the equation and took ‘Mon Reve Parisien’ away.

If not 7 months or 7 weeks or even 7 days, one thing I would love to achieve on this trip is to spend at least 1 full friggin day in Paris, strolling around on Champs Elysees singing ‘Oh, Champs Elysees, hugging Eiffel Tower so tight my ribs would come close to cracking, sitting in a roadside café with cobbled pavement and sip hot coffee, having French baguette and some wine in a park, taking a boat ride in the Seine and of course, showing off my semi-fluent but very rusty French skills in front of my colleagues.

So till the time I achieve this objective and write a follow-up post describing every ounce of my week long Eurotrip in super minute details in July (over planning at its peak over here), I’ll try and get back to work I need to finish on the plane, the reason why I cramped my already cramped cattle class leg space by keeping my laptop bag under my seat and not in the above compartment.

Jusqu’a la …. Au revoir!

Fix You

2015-02-11T13:33:00.001-08:00

When you try your best but you don't succeed.

When you get what you want and not what you need.

When you feel so tired but you can't sleep. Stuck in reverse....

If you're a Coldplay fan, you would know this song even before you got through the first line. With the keyboard playing in the background and Martin crooning in his trademark pitch, I could listen to this song all day long.

Specially after finding out for whom this song was written. In case you didn't know (and aren't a Chris Martin follower like me), he wrote this song for Gwyneth Paltrow after her dad passed away.

When the tears come streaming down your face.

When you lose something you can't replace.

When you love someone but it goes to waste. Could it be worse ...

This is my favorite Coldplay song but it wasn't the first one I'd heard. Actually, I don't even know which was my first Coldplay song.

It was one of those late nights at office when almost everyone has left for the day but one unfortunate team is busy making final touches to the deliverable and trying to meet their 'EOD' deadline.

Since no one was there to object, my manager back then, PG started playing this song on his phone out loud. Only a few seconds into the song, I got reeled in. So I asked, "What band is that?". PG looked at me with an expression that you might get when someone asked you, "What does water taste like?"

As if it should've been obvious, he told me that it was Coldplay. Okay, so I was intrigued enough to check it out.

Lights will guide you home.

And ignite your bones.

And I will try and fix you.

The first Coldplay song I heard was 'The Scientist', followed by 'Yellow' and other hits like 'Viva La Vida', 'Atlas', 'Fix You', & 'Paradise'.

So yes. Fix You is my favorite song by this band. I've recently been told that guys usually like this one but not the girls. They don't want a 'Guy' to fix you. They're capable of doing that, along with anything else a guy can do.

High up above or down below.

When you're too in love to let it go.

But if you never try, you'll never know.

Just what you're worth.

Anyhoo, these are my 2 random cents worth of thought on this song.

Tears stream down your face when you lose something you cannot replace.

Tears stream down your face I promise you I will learn from my mistakes.

Tears stream from your face .....

Lights will guide you home.

And ignite your bones.

And I will try ... And fix you ...

Lullaby

2015-02-09T22:22:00.003-08:00

'I would wrap you in angels, just to keep you safe.

I would walk to the Sun, just to hold you close.

While the world breaks your heart, I'll be here for the fall.

Though the days might betray you, know that I never will.'

This the very first paragraph from the song 'Lullaby', one of the only 3 songs that "Martyrs & Poets" released before disbanding.

I do have the other and more popular 'Replay' in my playlist, but this one strikes closer to home, I don't exactly know why. I'm not exactly what you would call a romantic so that's not it. Maybe it's the situation in which I heard this song for the first time, that it kinda stayed with me.

It was during the last few scenes of an episode from 'Criminal Minds' when Jason Gideon (Mandy Patinkin) reconnects with his son after ages.

This phenomenon, when we associate a certain song/tune to a past memory, real or imaginative or to a certain sense/emotion/situation, is known as a 'Song - Memory Association'. The same way our olfactory system associates a certain odor, good or bad with a certain person, activity or memory.

Anyways, enough with the scientific gyaan. What I wanted to jot down here in this post is what I associate this specific song to.

It was the summer of 2013, the month of July to be more specific when I met this girl I got infatuated to. Right around the time I heard and got fixated to this song. I'm not sure if she fits into the song well or if she needs to be cushioned from the problems of the world and all the stuff that Nate Picard wishes for his muse in this song but as I associate this song with her, I do wanna wrap her in Angels. Whenever I listen to this song, I can remember her sitting across me in a striped salmon - colored shirt, the same color that I was also coincidentally wearing.

'So take all your faith

Be more than I ever will

Lullaby Baby

Lullaby Baby I'll keep you here

While the world might break you, be strong in your will

And Trade all your scars for love

And be wreckless with love

Be more than your father

Don't betray all your hope because love conquers all

I would wrap you in angels, just to keep you safe'

It's not just this song. There are a variety of songs that remind of situations frozen in time. Linkin Park's 'In the End' sends me back to my boarding school days when I heard it on a collector's album called 'Progressive', for the very first time, on the shiny new stereo that our housemaster had so graciously installed in the dormitory. This was also the first song, the lyrics of which I had learnt by heart.

The first song on Side A of the cassette was 'In the End', followed by 'This is How You Remind Me' by Nickelback. We would always listen to these two and then rewind the cassette to the beginning. Until we bought LP's albums and started fixating on 'Numb', 'Breaking the Habit', 'Points of Authority' and other hits. So a week back in the gym when my iPod played 'In the End' and 'How you Remind Me' one after the other, it was enthralling what I experienced next. Using Hiro Nakamura's powers (TV Show - Heroes), I was teleported back in time, when I was 14 and standing in awe, in front of the wooden box that held the stereo.

My playlist has evolved over the years as I'm sure everyone else's also must have but these songs, like lullabies sung to my subconscious mind, are etched into my memory not only in the form of tunes and lyrics but vivid and living memories.

Mission Kashmir

2014-12-31T05:17:00.000-08:00

I'm writing about my 6 day trip to Kashmir which I undertook with my friends a few months back. I know it has been quite a while but the memories of that place are afresh as if it was just yesterday.

I had the good fortune of visiting Kashmir in the end of July, a few months before the catastrophe that struck the true heaven on earth. For long, our band of 4 - Hussey, Maggie, Prince Little and I were planning a trip which never seemed to materialise. One day Hussey (A Kargil native) and Prince Little, who's a hotshot expat working in a multi-million dollar corporation in Doha, put their foot down and coerced us into making plans to explore Kashmir and so, we made arrangements to make that happen.

Day 1 - SRINAGAR

We arrived in Srinagar Friday morning in two different flights (I'd tried to book tickets through "promotional offers" and got the last available ticket that a dirt cheap flight while the the others booked the next cheap flight). At least, I was spared from Prince Little's obsession with clouds as he snapped uncountable and virtually indifferent shots from the window seat).

The tiresome travels of the day - an early morning flight, delayed a couple o'hours, followed by an hour long cab ride to the Houseboat that we had reserved for the day didn't muffle our enthusiasm to go dive headfirst into the beauty that is Kashmir.

We dropped our bags, picked up Tandoori rolls and Shawarmas from a nearby joint and hopped on to yet another cab to reach the infamous Dal Lake. It was still July but instead of any monsoon rain, we were midst a cool breeze mixed up with a pinch of heat from the sun in a clear sky as we walked by the lakeside, facing the mountains, often called upon by the parked Shikara owners.

We finally gave in to their constant bickering and took one around the lake, stopping at cloth shops and small huts on the way and capturing yet again, numerous snapshots of the day.

Next up, our guides Hussey and his cousin, Parwana, took us up to the Mughal Gardens, claiming to show us the best ever sunset point there is.

After spending hours on end on the edge of the stone garden wall, sipping freezing mountain mineral water and munching chips, we finally witnessed the ethereal beauty of the setting sun, clearly the highlight of our first day.

With an authentic Wazwani feast and some bedtime poker, we bid adieu to Day 1, settling into our beds inside the ever rocking cradle that was our houseboat on Lake Nageen.

Day 2 - KARGIL

We barely got 5-6 hours of sleep that night. Hussey and Prince Little were fast asleep but a rooster and a dog owned by the houseboat woman woke up me & Maggie at 4 am. If my stomach hadn't been full of Wazwani chicken, I would've broken my fast on this one.

Complaining and grumping, we got ready for a 6 hour long journey to Kargil, where Hussey was born and brought up.

The cab ride was quite comfortable and the sights outside the window were worth staying awake and snapping the camera button for. Moreover, the cab driver's stereo had but one cassette that played only a handful of songs. "Ai jaate hue lamhon" from the Border, a classic war movie that recounts the 1971 Indo-Pak war, kept playing as we soaked in the serenity of the mountains and coincidentally, keep seeing army camps here and there.

Soon enough we reached Hussey's abode. We entered the 3-storied home built upon a small hill and the first thing we saw on passing the house gate was a small garden in the front lawn, with a giant apricot tree in the centre. We entered the house, put our luggage down and slumped on the comfy couch while Hussey went to meet his family.

Except Hussey, all of us hail from New Delhi and nearby areas and it was the first time we were meeting his next to kin. They understand only a bit of Hindi but they were really warm and welcoming, as everyone from that region is.

Our breakfast was a mere Frooti and Uncle Chips (courtesy our Prince, who's on a diet these days) and by the look of the food that was set in front of us, we were really glad we had totally empty stomachs.

Chicken and Rajma, served with rice. Seems a pretty normal lunch menu but only the people there can tell you how amazing it was. Chicken is a delicacy eaten the Punjabi way or Halaal but I presumed there was only one way to make Rajma. I was so very wrong.

Everyone says it's the mountain water that gives it that irresistible taste but whatever it was, we barely looked at the chicken and devoured the rajma as if it was our last day on earth.

Next up, we got into Hussey's hatchback and went around Kargil. He recounted stories of his childhood and the various small wars that found their way to into their lives.

We spent the rest of the evening by a rivulet, sitting, throwing stones and talking. Me and Prince Little even got our shoes off and dipped our feet into the ice cold water just for the heck of it. I don't really remember what made us make a wager as to who can keep their feet in the water longer, or who actually won that bet but throughout the way back to Hussey's place, we couldn't feel anything from below the knees.

Day 3 - LEH

Early next morning we packed up and carried onwards. Another 6-8 hours to Leh but this time in Hussey's hatchback. Only a few minutes on the road and Hussey started where he left off with his stories of Kargil and Leh, how him and his cousins used to go on these routes on bikes and more important and intriguing for all of us, how he met his betrothed and future wife.

We made quite a few pit stops on the way, gazing at sublime scenery, watching rivulets trickle down to meet rivers but the most amount of time we spent was testing the theory at Magnetic Hill (that your automobile, even switched off, will drift onwards) which, even after trying a dozen times, didn't seem to hold true.

We reached Leh, freshened up and took a detour from our planned path to a village ~20 hours from Leh, known as SECMOL.

SECMOL - Students' Educational and Cultural Movement of Ladakh, is an organisation founded in 1988 aimed at reforming the educational system of Ladakh, by a group of young Ladakhis returning from university who understood the problems of the younger generation with modern education, their lack of focus and the cultural confusion. The brainchild of Mr. Sonam Wangchuk, the main campus building at SECMOL was inaugurated by His Holiness, The Dalai Lama himself in 1998.

Their activities include working to reform the government school system, helping village students in their education, awakening youth to the problems stemming from inappropriate and insensitive schooling, producing related videos and radio programmes, and designing and building solar-heated eco-friendly buildings.

Hussey's elder brother, a volunteer at SECMOL gave us a tour of the place, told us how the institute worked, how it is almost fully self-sustained. Almost everything is produced in-house, everything is recycled and reused, non-recyclable stuff is discouraged (chewing gum is banned) and whatever they can't make, is bought by selling apricot jam made by the volunteers and the students.

We also met the various teachers living on campus, most of them foreigners and the 20-30 young British girls who had just finished High School and were there for a 2 month volunteer program.

Day 4 - PANGONG TSO

Another early morning rise and addressing basic oral hygiene later, we were back on the road for the last and most exciting leg of our trip, PANGONG TSO. The infamous lake where the water is calm, serene and different shades of blue, green and purple at the same time.

Pangong Tso is in disputed territory. The Line of Actual Control passes through the lake. A section of the lake approximately 20 km east from the Line of Actual Control is controlled by China but claimed by India. The eastern end of the lake is in Tibet and is not claimed by India. The western end of the lake is disputed between Pakistan and India as a part of the Kashmir dispute. After the mid-19th century, Pangong Tso was at the southern end of the so-called Johnson Line, an early attempt at demarcation between India and China in the Aksai Chin region.

The route from Leh wasn't exactly uphill but a mix of sub-stretches going up and down. Pangong is in a valley and only 30% of the lake exists in India while the rest of it behind the Chinese border. In the years that have passed, global warming and human intervention has led to evaporation and destruction of a major portion of this beautiful water body and it won't be long when it will become extinct and we would have mere photos to show our kids and grandkids that we had been there.

Trying to keep future worries out of my mind, we drove on. It was a cool summer morning with the sun shining bright. However, on our way when we reached the highest altitude of 17,590 at ChangLa where we got chilled to our bones but passed through numerous valleys as well where we were greeted with Kashmiri Kahwa which was the best I had ever tasted. Prince Little as always, had try something new, which, in this region, was Yak milk. You would have to ask him personally how it tasted coz after having a few sips, he barely talked the rest of the way.

Our patience was wearing thin as we inched closer to Pangong and the moment of first sight, we literally jumped out as if we had found Santa. Oh the joy on our faces. The rest of the day passed by admiring the serene view of the lake from different angles and views. We drove onwards till the point the car could take us and onwards still, on foot.

After walking for an hour we reached a portion of the lake that was entirely uninhabited. No human or fauna could be seen, except us and the rare duck on the lake. We clicked an infinite number of photos trying to capture the scene from every angle possible, lit up a Cuban cigar (although with the breeze flowing, we could hardly light it up). We floated a paper boat into the lake which, hopefully, would have crossed the Chinese border by now and etched our initials into the sand before heading back to LEH for a night's rest.

Day 5 and 6 - SRINAGAR & NEW DELHI

Our trip was almost over. Next morning we headed back to Kargil. Reaching there around 4PM, we stretched our legs for a few hours before catching a bus back to Srinagar.

Hussey stayed back at home to spend a few more days while Prince Little, Maggie and I bid our adieu and boarded our ride that would reach Srinagar early morn, just in time for us to board our 7AM flight to New Delhi.

As we touched down in the hot and humid capital, I vowed to return. To see the lake again, when it would be frozen solid in winters and also, to run the Ladakh half marathon that takes place every year in the month of September.

Till then, these photos might suffice ...

I'll feel better when the winter's gone ...

2014-12-27T01:44:00.001-08:00

The fire, it cracks and the flakes snow on. November was white and December was gray. Well, someday soon when the spring brings the sun, I'll finally sleep, I'll finally ... I'll feel better when the winter's gone.

These three months I've been inside the house, my pacing has worn all of the carpet out. Just give me a breeze, the rebirth of the life. I'll finally pine, I'll finally ... I'll feel better when the winter's gone.

These are the lyrics from a song by 'Say Hi' but they convey the message I want to, as I sit huddled up in my quilt on this chilly Saturday of the Indian winters in the month of December. Agreed that it doesn't get as cold here as it does in the countries way up in the Northern Hemisphere, such as the U.S. or Canada but hey, I recently heard that on the coldest day of the year in Delhi last week, the temperature at noon was lower compared to the temperature in the morning in NYC or Simla.

Furthermore, it 'feels' colder here as we don't use central heating in the houses and have to rely on electric heaters, heating pads and layers of clothing to keep from shivering.

On the 12th of December, my brother got hitched. At 4am in the morning as we sat witnessing the agnipradakshinam rituals, I wondered how, even in mid-December, it was barely cold. Instead of listening to any prayers I might have offered up to that day of my life, the All Mighty heard me criticising this once. The very next morning, a storm rose up and for the coming 3 days, pelted rain and hail over the North. Voila, the winter that I was 'missing' was literally knocking at my door and striking against my bedroom window.

I hope it never gets as cold in the North in this country as it is in the North of Canada and of Westeros but I might be able to see, before I die, a day when it will snow in Delhi. On that day, as pollution particles join forces with snow balls, I'll sit in my room with coffee in my hands and say what I'm saying right now ...

I'll feel better when the winter's gone...

Winter: Thou hath arrived

2014-10-27T07:16:00.001-07:00

As the chilly winds relieved us of the humid North Indian heatwaves, this gave all the GoT fans to flood each other's FB Walls with the popular quote from the show/book series "Winter is Coming".

This also acted as free publicity for the franchise as frustrated non-followers gave in to the temptation to see what the fuss is all about and immersed themselves in the Song of Fire and Ice and going through the topsy-turvy turns and twists of the storyline.

Currently I am reading the 5th edition of the book series, "A Dance with Dragons". As the name suggests, this volume sheds light on the majestic creatures that came to life after centuries of extinction following the Doom of Valyria, the most prosperous city of its time.

It follows principally, the turn of events at and beyond the Wall, in Winterfell and in Easteros as the main characters narrate the story from their own point of views in each chapter.

Coming back from office in the evening, as the sky rise buildings and apartments fade away and the trees appear by the side of the road, chilly winds swoop in to shake me to the core of my spine. Even though the temperature is nowhere near the freezing point nor comparable to the ones in Canada or Siberia, for us Northerners (North Indians not North Westerosis), who are accustomed to a hot and humid climate, it does feel like we've suddenly gone beyond the wall, in a land known far far away from Frostfangs and the frozen lakes, known as the "Lands of the Always Winter", currently the abode of Brandon Stark and the Reeds.

Even in Winterfell, way south of the wall, the winter is quite unforgiving. From Theon Turncloak's POV, we see how Bolton and Stannis' men and animals alike, are dying each day buried in the snow.

Maybe because I am currently reading such accounts of how unrelenting the arrival of winter is and how this winter will last for decades on end, I am feeling the fangs of ice.

If this is the case, the sequel, named the "Winds of Winter" will be even more freezing, both climatically and otherwise as the Others make their appearance and we get a more elaborate picture of their lives (We did see in one of the episodes of Season 4) how an Other touches a newborn child and converts him into an Other too.

Well, let's hope George R. R. Martin releases this book soon enough and we can spend more time, effort and money reading, watching, fantasising and living in the land that owes its existence to this not so young man.

This one's to Jenny

2014-07-19T12:41:00.002-07:00

Viral fever put me on the bed over the weekend but fortunately, also in the front of the TV where Comedy Central was airing the reruns of Suits Season 1.

Suits as a show has come a long way since then but it was kinda nice going back to Harvey, Donna, Louis and Mike's old days. And that's where I saw Jenny again.

Jenny Griffith, the very so pretty, girl-next-door blonde who was Mike's friend Trevor's ex-girlfriend and later on, Mike's love interest.

In one of the episodes the show goes back further 5 years from season 1 to show how all the characters used to live back then.

I loved that episode because gave us some more background story and more importantly, that's the episode where Mike and Trevor meet Jenny and her friend for the first time.

Just 2 guys and 2 girls in a bar, the foursome hit it off quite well and it is evident that Mike likes Jenny. They have similar interests (both of them like die hard I guess) and Mike feels she is more his type than the other one.

Through tough turns and broken friendships and relationships, much to my liking (don't know how many others), Mike and Jenny finally become a thing.

They're living together, she knows his secret, helps him out by being a guest witness in a mock trial of his, delivers his suit to office when he'd just pulled an all-nighter and is giving him good advice when he's stuck.

All in all, they're great together.

Look at the chemistry Mike and Jenny have:

But the creators didn't really feel so.

Here entered Rachel Zane, a paralegal at Pearson Hardman who, not so surprisingly, becomes the reason for Jenny to leave Mike.

That is the very point where everyone starts comparing Rachel and Jenny.

I have never, ever, apart from only one friend, heard anyone liking Jenny more than Rachel.

Rachel's smart, driven, ambitious, sexy and daughter of a high profile herself but Jenny is is no way inferior.

Of course you don't focus on the boring law stuff all the time so how does it matter if the characters' love interests come from inside of outside of the same profession?

Please bring her back. :/

The "Phoren" train ride

2014-03-16T07:28:00.001-07:00

En route DC – NYC, I originally penned down this post in a notebook as the moving train made it more and more difficult to write and even more difficult to read later on.

This makes the first time that I took a train outside of my home country and quite frankly, the experience is very different.

Booking at the very last minute, we had still gotten “business class” tickets for the Acela Express train from Union Station, Washington DC to Penn Station, NYC. I was too excited to experience this voyage, well, before I found out that there was only business class and first class on the train. No Coach/Economy class on the train ???

DC’s Union Station, as we entered, gave the air of an airport rather than a train station, with its souvenir shops, Starbucks & Dunkin Donuts (of course), a Victoria’s Secret store among other apparel shops and infinite number of eateries. And just like at an airport, we waited at a lounge, till about 15 minutes before the departure time.

At 6:15 PM, the gates swung open and we walked through a tunnel and set our eyes on the majestic 2124 Amtrak Acela Express Train waiting for us.

With a Starbucks Cappuccino in my hand, I climbed up the 6 coach machine and started looking around for seat numbers.

Just like the movie theatres over here, there is no concept of reserving specific seats for passengers. Everyone has made peace with the First Come First Serve system and are quite civil about it.

We found 2 vacant “business class” seats and stowed away our luggage in the overhead compartments.

As the train embarked upon its journey, making its way through the states of Maryland and New Jersey, I pulled open the front table and started scribbling.

Frankly, I feel like an idiot sitting with a pen and paper because everyone, and I mean literally everyone around me, is Apple branded.

My cousin sitting in the window seat has an iPhone 5S, the pretty girl on my right, (mid - twenties, has a pretty cool job) is working on a Macbook Air and an iPad mini. I’m quite sure she has an iPhone in her bag.

The middle aged couple in the front have apple tablets and even the train conductor is scanning the barcodes printed on our tickets with an app on his iPhone.

Me on the other hand, have a pen, a notebook, 2 magazines and a sucky BlackBerry Curve which doesn’t even catch the train’s Wi-Fi signals.

The 2h45m ride passes by in a jiffy as we pick up our luggage and get out into Manhattan’s cold and damp air.

Until the next flashback …

Oh my Boston.

2014-03-05T08:33:00.002-08:00

Recently, I got a chance to visit Boston, the capital and largest city in the New England state of Massachusetts and the dream of every prospective business school & engineering student.

Boston is quite a different city if you compare it with other business & education hubs. New York often comes up in comparisons and while NYC is one of the cultural, financial and fashion capitals of the world, Boston trumps it easily when it comes to the best cities for students.

I will not compare these 2 cities here and rather narrate my short 20 hour visit to the home of the Red Sox.

The Delta shuttle flight from NYC to Boston took under 1 hour to reach the Logan International Airport (all the flights, domestic and international, arrive and depart from the same airport, this is so simple than having 2 or even 3 airports) from where, we checked into our room at the adjoining Boston Logan Hilton, which is in such close proximity of the airport that we walked through the shared passageway between the two structures and reached the Hotel Lobby in under 2 minutes.

Post some rest and a hot shower, we took the hotel shuttle to the Airport station on the Blue Line.

An average metro car comprises of people from different age groups but what I witnessed in Boston was rather different.

Everywhere I looked, I saw students. Clad in overcoats, books in hand and earphones in ears, I saw groups of boys and girls in their late teens, twenties and some maybe in their early thirties. Also, being in the States, you would expect majority of the people speaking in English, or perhaps, the second language - Spanish but here again, a rather strange surprise.

The train coaches were bustling with tongues from various different continents. A trio sitting in front of me were chatting in french, who, when exited, were replaced by 4 teenagers gossiping in Spanish. To my left were two guys talking in Japanese and near the door, stood a young adult on a call, conversing in German.

This truly explains what a students' hub looks like. One of the top 3 cities in the world for college goers, it houses some of the biggest names in the stream of education. Harvard, MIT, Berklee College of Music, Boston University, Boston College, Emerson College and many many and yet many more.

In about 20 minutes we reached our rendez-vous point of Hynes Convention Centre, in Boston's Back Bay area where a friend, who goes to in the Berklee College, showed us around.

We took a short tour of Berklee, including a quick sneak peak into the classrooms and practice rooms, where, even at 11pm on a Saturday night, students were quite determinedly practicing their musical instrument of choice while the others sat back and listened to the masterpieces in the making.

The ones who believe in the American motto of work hard and party harder, were lined up in queues outside taverns and bars enjoying the warmer than usual weekend (warmer as it hadn't snowed in the past week; me and my friends were shivering in 4 layers of clothing as some girls passed us by wearing minis).

The most common sight in Boston was the turf war between Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts who've conquered every corner of every street of every block of the city, serving coffee aficionados who relaxed on comfortable armchairs with eyes glued to their fired up MacBooks.

The next sight was of the very enthralling Boston Common, the oldest city park in the US. All covered up in snow, I am quite sure this park, right in the centre of the city, with its frozen lake and snowed in gardens, could've played the part of the ice forest in the Narnia chronicles.

The bridge inside the park gave us a great vantage point to look at the tallest buildings in Boston, the John Hancock Tower and the Prudential Tower, the bustling streets underneath and the adjacent Chinatown, where we headed next.

I have been to the Chinatown in NYC and seen it tons of times on TV but the one in Boston gave me quite the scare.

It was quite odd to see it mostly deserted on a Saturday night as we roamed the streets around the various mani-pedi shops and restaurants of Chinese, Vietnamese and other Asian cuisines, looking for a place which had food on its menu that we'd actually heard of.

On our way back, we took in the beauty of the city, with its young crowd, chilly winds, hoards of snow at the sides of the road and disco buses (a hop-on hop-off bus running up and down the streets with people dancing to loud music, disco lights and a stripper pole in the centre).

Day 2 was all about visiting Harvard and MIT in the adjoining Cambridge area.

From Hynes, a bus dropped us at Massachusetts Avenue, from where we walked to the Harvard Business School. Mostly deserted on a Sunday morning, we still got to gaze at the architecture of the oldest University in the States, its Memorial Church, the John Harvard statue in the Harvard Yard, its athletics arena, the Harvard stadium and nearby memorabilia shops run by Harvard students, selling Harvard apparel.

While we couldn't get a backstage pass into Harvard, we were extremely lucky when it came to MIT. Another friend, who is studying there, used her access card to smuggle us in and out of the Arts, Earthly Sciences and various other buildings, including the best of them all, and the most relevant to me, the Sloan Business School.

Also doubling as our guide, this friend informed how this new building, with quite a different taste of architecture from other MIT buildings, just completed construction in 2010. The location of the building is truly justified as you enter the hallway and gaze upon the view overlooking the Charles river and the city's skyline.

Vowing to be back for more, for a much longer time period to better explore the city when we actually apply for these schools, we packed our bags and headed back, dreaming of that hopeful day in the not-so-distant future.

Quite a bit different.

2014-02-19T08:32:00.000-08:00

So this is the first time I am writing a blog post on my new laptop and it is the first time I am writing in ages.

It feels a bit different.

I am back in Washington DC after half a decade to attend a marriage ceremony and it feels quite a bit different.

The furniture in my room is the same, the people I met here are all the same but some of the things are quite a bit different.

The city is white instead of green (last time I visited was in the summer of ‘09 and it’s the winters right now), a few paintings have been moved or changed, there are some new carpets, the room clocks are now Apple iHome docks, the kitchen has a Keurig Coffee Brewer, anyone and everyone but me has an iPhone. I can go on and on.

These are all the changes on the outside. Within my small micro-life itself, everything feels changed, as if I have evolved somehow.

From June 2009 to now, I have graduated from college and have a good job, I know a foreign language (English being listed under my mother tongue), the money I got from home to shop over here has been withdrawn from my bank account and not asked for from my dad, I have a BlackBerry and not a Nokia (I want an iPhone too now … The iHome docks are so cool. I can’t play music on it unless I have an “I” device).

In those 5 years I didn’t really look back and took stock of how things have changed. But right now, like a memory stamp, I can actually think backwards and compare what I had right then when I was here and what I possess right now.

Not only that, I can also compare what I wanted then and what I yearn at this very moment.

The wish to move out of my home country is still there and my dream destination still rests in North America, it’s just that it has moved quite a bit north.

My dream B-School is still HBS and the timeline in which I would want to reach there is still similar but the latest plan has a small detour in between, where I get a Master’s before I go to Boston, MA.

Most of my songs are the same and I still have the same habit of trimming down the playlist and adding a few good tunes every now and then. However, my most played songs are now by Coldplay and not by Eminem or Akon.

My close friend circle is still the same. A Mallu-Christian, a short-heighted short-hair Punjabi and some distant others but I have made new ones and plan to meet my decade old pack of boarding school buddies soon.

Is this how the life evolves ?? Is this how it changes, twists and turns and shapes itself into what we want or what we receive ??

I have no idea, no clue at all. From what I have heard from my Uncle, who has a whopping 46 year work-experience (I don’t even have a 46 month experience at this point), life for him has had its ups and downs … But it is as it was, 5 5 winters back when I saw him and promises that it’s gonna stay the same when I see him the next time.

But to me, it’s a little bit different.

I'll be 23.

2013-07-17T08:48:00.003-07:00

I felt for sure tonight

After I said goodbye

No one else will know these dreams
No one will ever see those selfish things

No one else will know this part of me

I'm still driving away

And I'm thinking every day

I won't always love these selfish things

I won't always live

I'm not stopping

Its my turn to decide

I know this is my time

No one else will know me, only you

No one else will see me like you do

I'll think of this forever

I'll wait for the right time

What am I hoping for?

I'm here.. I'm now.. I'm ready..

Holding on tight

Don't give away the end

The one thing that stays mine

I won't always love what I'll never have

I won't always live in my regrets

I'm still driving away

I'll think of this everyday

Amazing still it seems

I'll be 23

The Beautiful Song: James Blunt v/s Pete Murray

2013-07-04T09:54:00.001-07:00

Every time I write something about songs, an IAS stops talking to me. Hope this time is different.

Remember that phase of your life when you actually like listening to those tacky, cheesy, “Aashiqui 2” type senti songs?

Then comes the R&B songs and if no-one helps you out and you are in the final grips of depression, the heavy death metal blasts (You agree PINTS?).

Though, there are some songs that stay with you forever … The Classics !! The "Summers of 69s" and the "We will Rock Yous".

Two such songs that I’m writing about are:

- “You’re Beautiful” by James Blunt

and

- “So Beautiful” by Pete Murray

Before you make any pre-emptive judgements, know, that except the names, none other aspect of these two songs are similar, in any way.

You’re Beautiful, by our very own James Blunt, is an old El Classico which I guess everyone must have listened to, in their adolescent life.

You know she’s beautiful, she’s an angel and your love for her is pure. (All that crap)

On the other hand, you have “So Beautiful”, by Pete Murray.

This guy may be no legend, but this song sure would've earned him a rapport with his ex’s friends, the way he feels about her in this song.

Everyone knows how Taylor Swift & Adele rip off their ex after they’re dumped. They’ll actually seem like little girls in middle school after you hear how this guy blasted her ex to pieces, in all its subtlety.

While James Blunt reminds you of that first girlfriend you broke up with or that one girl that got away whom you definitely know, IS THE ONE,

Pete Murray reminds you of that one irritating ex-girlfriend whom you wish, had actually gotten away.

(Ironically, I might have both of those girls in my life reading this blog post)

To write this post further, I am actually listening to these songs and while James Blunt strikes a chord deep down, waking up that long buried nostalgia, Pete Murray makes my fingers roll up into fists thinking of those crazy anger and frustration filled days.

In both of the songs, the guy is thinking about a girl but while one has his girl portrayed as an angel on a heavenly pedestal, the other one ridicules her dressing sense, how that fool thinks so high of herself, her hair color and how he wishes he could bring her down and plant her feet back on the ground.

You do feel pity for both of the guys though.

James Blunt loves his girl so very much and wants nothing but to be at her side but can’t and Pete Murray spent those awful moments with his Ex and how his fingers actually seem to burn when he even as much as thinks of touching her hair.

Is it just me, the boring, all the time in front of my laptop/book geek with a non-existent social life (You termed that, BAGAI) or do you think this is normal and you actually like Murray’s version of Beautiful over Blunt’s?

The National Security Agency (NSA) and US Patriot Act Controversy

2013-06-18T06:38:00.000-07:00

The recent discovery of the NSA program collecting telecom recordings has yet again sparked the debate on the validity of the US Patriot Act which allows the national agencies to tap into private data of the masses.

A recent leaked NSA document shows that on April 25, the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court (FISA) granted an order to the FBI, giving them unlimited access to obtain telecom recordings (within the country as well as between US and other countries) for a three-month period ending in July.

Following up on such spying activities that were carried out in the Bush administration, this document shows evidence that for the first time under Obama’s presidency, such measures are being taken, regardless of whether the citizens are suspected of any wrongdoing.

As per the FISA order, phone numbers of both parties on the call are handed over, along with location data, call duration, unique identifiers and the time and duration of all calls on the networks operated by Verizon, one of the biggest telecom operators in the country.

To add to the blows, it was also revealed that the court order had expressly barred Verizon from disclosing any existence of such activity or the court order itself.

It is still unknown if Verizon is the only provider to be targeted with such an order while previous reports have suggested such collections from all major mobile networks. It is also unclear whether the three-month order is for a one-off activity or the latest in a series of similar orders.

Privacy advocates have stated their concern that such breach of privacy and storage of unlimited "metadata" (also termed as business records) is a highly invasive form of surveillance and is in no way, a constituent of the US Patriot Act of 2001. Under the cover of “security concerns”, such activities fall into a grey area where these records enable the government to know the identity of every person with whom an individual has an electronic relationship, either via phone calls, texts or e-mails sent via phone.

The US authorities have tried for a long time to get their hands on such data to discover an individual's communication patterns and network of associations. This data collection request indicates that the agency is continuing some version of the data-mining program that began in the immediate aftermath of the 9/11 attacks.

Apart from the hostility from the masses, other repercussions have also started surfacing. The American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) is the first of the many to come, to file a lawsuit against the NSA for breach of privacy.

Working on mitigating the damage, Barack Obama, said in an interview with journalist Charlie Rose that all NSA has access to, is “call pairs”. The identity information is kept under wraps and the only revealed data is number pairs, the time and duration of the calls.

According to the President (also known as “Big Brother” post this leak), the database would be available to the national security agencies only to cross reference and match information in times of suspected terrorist activities. Also, this database would be a property of the FISA court and would require a warrant for access.

The security concerns and the measures taken by the state to “counter-acting terrorism” have always been a controversial topic. With certain revelations like WikiLeaks and now the NSA leaks, have grabbed a lot of media attention and portrayed the authorities in the bad light, giving rise to conspiracy theories and hostility towards the state.

Source(s):

Guardian.co.uk

Reuters.com

General press search

My Squish Squash Dreams !!

2013-05-26T10:12:00.001-07:00

After more than a year of biting dust in the top shelf of my cupboard, my squash racquet has once again seen the light of day.

I developed a knack for this sport in school but it took a back seat after I left Chandigarh. I haven’t been able to play regularly, mostly due to unavailability of time, a second player and most of all, a good squash court (Gurgaon's public sports infra is almost non-existent and one can get a squash court constructed and recover the cost sooner than get benefits of the unreasonably expensive private clubs here).

I still remember the first time I set foot inside a squash court. Post dinner, clad in white kurta pyjamas and floaters, a friend had showed me the squash racquets the school had so generously issued to us hostelers (which I thought were thinner varieties of a tennis racquet).

The first few games I played weren’t as peachy. I couldn’t make proper contact with the ball, was too scared of being hit by it instead and it got so stuffy inside the court after a while that I almost swore never to set foot inside one again, dismissing squash as a boring, indoor variation of tennis.

But soon enough, I happened to set foot inside the court’s viewing area during school hours when the school squash team was practicing (which included my classmate Abhay Sood, a hosteler 6 years my junior, Rannvijay and Harinder Pal Sandhu, who is currently India’s 2^nd ranked squash player). Their games almost resembled an art form, quite like fencing but without the armor. The way they hit the parallel shots, placed their drops, never ever came in the path of the opponent’s shot and the most satisfying part, never got hit by the ball.

That caught my eye and little by little, I started playing the game in my free time. Being in the school cricket team, most of my afternoons and evenings were reserved for net practices or matches but living inside a boarding school has its perks when it comes to playing sports, even at night.

I played, I played and I played. I could hit some parallel shots, hit serves with 100% accuracy and defeat almost anyone in the hostel, Rannvijay too (The other school squash team players were day-boarders). I started loving the game and was used to be found, almost always, in those courts which I earlier deemed as "stuffy".

At that point in time, the thought of quitting cricket and taking up this sport never hit me. I was a good squash player coz of a lot of practice and sans training, never learned the tricks of the trade. Finally when that thought actually crossed my mind, it got sidelined by the board examinations and college admission forms.

A bachelor’s degree and 2 years into a consulting career, here I am again, picking up where I left off.

I bought new non-marking court shoes, am thinking of buying a new racquet, maybe also a kit bag and was completely content about where this was going. Until yesterday.

Yesterday, after playing squash at the Siri Fort Sports Complex for an hour, which is our weekly routine now, our court was booked by ‘Gaurav Nandrajog’, a professional squash player. Seeing him play brought back those memories when I fell in love with this sport, 10 years back. And those memories also carried along the regret of not pursuing the sport back then.

I’m not saying I could’ve become a pro or that I can’t take up some training and start playing like an amateur now but that missed chance, that late realisation of how much more I preferred squash over cricket will take me back to those days for a long time to come.

A French Immersion Trip !

2013-05-09T07:09:00.001-07:00

When you start learning a foreign language (French in my case), it is a bit tough getting a hang of it. But when you eventually reach a certain level of comfort, you start enjoying it, you want to explore mediums other than your text books, like comics, songs, movies (with subtitles off course) and at an advanced stage, novels and documentaries.

At this point, to work on your speaking skills, take up a French immersion trip and experience the French countryside at the same time.

Being one of the most taught languages worldwide, there are not only a hoard of language schools in the country, some of them have taken this learning to another level; THE FRENCH IMMERSION SCHOOLS

The ones I’m fascinated with are the schools that offer courses ranging from as short as 2 weeks to as long as 9 months.

You study throughout the weekdays and on the weekends, explore the city, the country or the neighbouring countries even.

School 1: Institut de Touraine (Touraine; Central France) http://www.institutdetouraine.com/

Situated in the small city named Tours in the Touraine province, the place is accessible from Paris and other major cities via the TGV train.

Course Durations: 2 Weeks (€480) to 48 Weeks (€9,000)

Arrive in Tours on a Sunday, sit for an orientation test to get your French level assessed (if you are a fresher, join the fresher level straight away) and start your classes from Monday.

for 5 hours a day on the weekdays, immerse into the French texts in a classroom with only 10 - 15 students.

In the evenings, explore the beautiful city, the Loire valley and the immense chateau, val de Loire

On the weekends, explore the local cuisine and check out the Cafe and Boulangeries or better yet, hop on an overnight train to Paris/Nice/Lyon/Marseille or to an exotic land in any of the 20 nearby countries connected by Eurail.

Accommodation: Living with a host family is the cheapest mode where you pay €175/week. the family will pick you up from the train station, provide breakfast and dinner on weekdays, 3 meals on weekends along with laundry, room cleaning and free wi-fi access.

Other options include a twin shared room (€100/week, cheaper than the host family but scarcely available) to rented apartments (€175/week) but without the food and other amenities.

All the books, materials and learning equipment is courtesy the institute and you receive a certificate as you complete the course.

Check out this video for more:

Estimated cost for a 1 month course (Visa + Flights + Insurance + Tuition + Accommodation): Rs. 200,000

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School 2: Institut de francais (Villefranche-sur-Mer, Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur; Southern France) http://www.institutdefrancais.com/

Course Durations: 2 Weeks (€1,400 in non-peak months – €1,700 in peak months) to 4 Weeks (€2,800 – €3,400)

Located in a small hilly fisherman town right on the serene French Riviera, this school will tell you what exactly an immersion trip means.

Drown yourself in French 8.5 hours every weekday where you sit inside a classroom for some of the time, spend time in a listening lab and have one-to-one lessons with the teacher every single day.

Coupled with outdoor teaching, meals and tea, this is one of the best places you’ll come across when you’re out on a learning plus exploration trip abroad.

On weekends, take a small ride to Nice, Marseille, Cannes or better yet, Monte Carlo and experience their cuisine and nightlife.

Accommodation: Live in a student community apartment (€380/month – €600/month) or a private studio apartment (€1,000 above) overseeing the ocean.

All the books, materials and learning equipment is courtesy the institute and you receive a certificate as you complete the course.

Estimated cost for a 2 week course (Visa + Flights + Insurance + Tuition + Accommodation): Rs. 1,80,000

Estimated cost for a 1 month course (Visa + Flights + Insurance + Tuition + Accommodation): Rs. 370,000

I will be off to one of these 2 schools next year and will surely update this post about it. Till then, you have info on a better school or have any further questions, reach out to me.

Bon Voyage !!

To learn a foreign language: French !

2012-12-25T08:22:00.005-08:00

Many people want to learn a foreign language. Be it to strengthen your CV, to go exploring, meet new people, get to know new cultures or just for fun.

The 3 ways in which, not only French, but any foreign language would help you are:

1. Competitive Advantage

2. Broadening the Cultural Horizons

3. Help acquire skills that would help in further learning

Known as the most romantic language in the world, French is also one of the top second languages taught worldwide with 110 Million native speakers & more than 200 Million second language speakers.

One of the official languages of the UN & the European Union, it is spoken as the 1st language in France, Switzerland (Romandy), Belgium (Wallonia & Brussels), Monaco, Quebec & Arcadia region in Canada and as a second language in USA (Maine & Acadiana region of Louisiana), Gabon, Mauritius, Algeria, Senegal & Côte d'Ivoire.

Competitive Advantage

Learning French can be very beneficial. Companies incorporated in France, Quebec or other francophone countries hire French speakers to aid on projects. Other companies who deal with the French speaking clients also hire speakers on premium compensation packages to aid on projects in the francophone countries.

One of the great jobs that I was offered was as a French Hedge Fund Analyst, paying 40% more than my current job (Unfortunately, it was in Chennai)

The French Embassy hires proficient speakers & the French teachers, corporate trainers & translators are also well paid.

If you’ve attained the DELF B1 (3rd level of the French diploma exam), you can work in France as an English Teaching Assistant for a period of 7 months, teaching in French schools at a fixed compensation of €900/month.

Better yet, if you’ve attained DELF B2, you can go & teach French in France.

French can also help an individual in settling in any of the Francophone country. Quebec awards 4 to 16 points to a French speaker (depending on your proficiency) in its immigration points system.

Some Universities also award brownie points to applicants who've honed a foreign language. France is a great option for further studies in the finance, medicine, fashion & retail space.

Broadening the Cultural Horizons

A French speaker has the whole world of Wine, Cheese, Theatre & Gastronomy open to them. The French eras of film & culture are considered one of the best in the world and the various festivals of France are best witnessed in their native tongue.

Paris is a culture in its own. “La Ville Lumiere” (The city of lights), along with its various cafes, fashion events, museums, monuments & shopping centres is worth experiencing. Although, you would be able to survive a few days with English, its worth interacting with the “Parisiens en français”.

Other famous vacation spots like Mauritius & Monaco also are French speaking nations.

Help acquire skills that would help in further learning

French, a romance language, is a descendant of Latin. Unlike English (A Germanic language), the romance languages have different masculine & feminine genders for the non-living objects too.

The other popular languages from the romance family are – Spanish, Italian, Portuguese & Romanian.

So if you’ve mastered French, you won’t have much difficulty in grasping any of the other romanic languages as compared to a new learner.

French, like any other European language is based on the Common European Framework of Reference for Languages: Learning, Teaching, Assessment (CEFR).

All the languages in the CEFR have 6 levels:

A1 – Breakthrough / Beginner

A2 – Waystage / Elementary

B1 – Threshold / Intermediate

B2 – Vantage / Upper intermediate

C1 – Effective Operational Proficiency / Advanced

C2 – Mastery / Proficiency

Attaining a B2 certificate is more than enough to live & work in a francophone country while C1 & C2 are needed for a Ph.D / further studies

Where to learn: The best institute to learn French is “Alliance Française”. There are 19 such institutes in India (Ahmedabad, Bangalore, Bhopal, Chandigarh, Chennai, Coimbatore, Goa, Gurgaon, Hyderabad, Jaipur, Karikal, Kolkata, Mahe, Mumbai, New Delhi, Pondicherry, Pune, Mysore, Trivandrum)

You can choose between the extensive course (4 hours/week) or the intensive course (8 hours/week) and select a weekdays or weekends batch as per your preference.

The fees structure & semester schedules vary from city to city. An intensive course in Delhi & Gurgaon costs around Rs. 15,000 and an extensive course around Rs. 8,500 (4 months) and with 3 semesters starting each year in January, May & September.

Log on to www.afindia.org for more or better yet, shoot me a query ;)

OH !! When I get my hands on you...

2012-08-25T06:29:00.000-07:00

Like almost all of my posts, even this one is inspired by a song.

“Wow !! Wow .. You’re gonna kill me this way .. Oh, when I get my hands on you”

I know that sounds perverted & creepy !! But not in Portuguese:

“Nossa, nossa !! Assim você me mata .. Ai, se eu te pego, Ai, ai, se eu te pego”

I heard this song for the first time in a remixed version on Soundcloud. Although the song had 6-7 other songs too, this one particularly got my attention.

Well, for one, I didn’t understand a single word of it and also because of the way Michel Telo sang it.

You can listen to the song here:

This post is dedicated to all those songs that are sung in tongues unknown to us.

This one is Portuguese, the famous song “Aïcha”, is French, the English version of which was made popular by the Danish Hip-Hop band, Outlandish. The lyrics and the style of singing in the original French version is even more beautiful, written by singer songwriter Jean-Jacques Goldman. The title refers to an Arabic female and was sung by an Algerian raï artist, Khaled. Then there’s the Spanish treat, “The Ketchup Song”, numerous hit numbers by Enrique & Pitbull and our very own Bollywoodised song, “Senorita”.

These songs, except their tones & music, are unknown to us. There’s no “SA RE GA MA PA” in it and whether its an R&B song, a Rap, Rock Metal or a country song, we don’t have a clue.

But we do shake a leg on the songs of the trance genre (Think – Steroe Love by Edward Maya) in the nightclubs & the amazing remixes by the French DJ David Guetta.

What these songs do to us can’t be explained in some Ig Nobel Prize theory or by one of the stupid surveys the American Universities conduct. These tunes play with our minds !!

But so does Alcohol & Drugs.

One of my friends in high school, whose name I’ve long forgotten, bought some CDs of Trance Music while we were on a trekking trip to Manali. When I asked, he said, “This stuff makes me think & stimulates my brain cells”. (He said this in weird Punjabi metaphors so I gave you the crux of it).

And even I do agree. After I saw the movie, “Requiem for a Dream”, its leitmotif (theme song) "Lux Aterna" just stuck in my head. The song title is Latin for “The Eternal Light” and is a trance in its own. Give the song a listen on full volume with your headphones on and you will know what I mean.

So just log on to YouTube and listen to ‘em !! Trance, foreign songs (No Bhojpuris okay), trance music or even Opera (Not Opera Winfrey, she’s only here for motivational purposes) and you would be able to think clearly post that.

The Drunk Train Experience: All Aboard

2012-07-24T11:54:00.001-07:00

If you guys have seen the latest season of “How I Met Your Mother”, you would know what the post title means.

For those who haven’t been fortunate enough to watch that episode, I’ll let you in on the story. So every night, the last train leaving from Manhattan to Long Island is full of drunk people who are returning from their respective parties and celebrations.

Well, the Delhi Metro has a Rs. 200 fine if you’re caught drunk. So, no one in the train was drunk, EXCEPT ME.

I was with a cousin brother & my brother-in-law when out of nowhere we just wanted to escape the evening heat and ended up at a beer shop. We didn’t really think it through practically while buying 3 large cans (You know what “CANS” I’m talking about right ??)of Tuborg STRONG.

On any other day, any 1 of us could gulp em all down without a sweat. But I had to leave for home in about 10 minutes and we didn’t have a place to sit & drink. Who thinks about all this when you have chilled beer in your hand ?? We cracked em open as soon as we parked the car below my cousin’s place (Dangerous territory BTW). All of us are down half our share when suddenly both of them hand me their cans too (Hand me their CANS .. Any1 else gets it or its just me ??)

The bro-in-law has to drive back home and Di would be back any second from South-Ex and the cousin has to go pick up his GF. Just a mere thought of their respective women refrained them from taking down another sip of this elixir of life (What has world come to L) and I’m fumbling with 3 beer cans in my hand and my mind a little hazy with the swigging from my share.

Who would like to waste beer ?? Water is so very scarce as it is ... So I take a deep breath and finish both of their beers and crush the tin cans with my bare hands (Feeling a little dizzy and like Stone Cold Steve Austin in the same moment).

I’m looking at my golden can of Tuborg when suddenly I realise we’ve reached the metro station. I force down whatever of the leftover I can and rush out.

In no time, I find myself in the metro coach when I don’t have any idea how I got there. Well, the amount of liquor isn’t much for us Punjabis but if you account for the time in which I forced it down my food pipe, it was way too much to handle at 6PM on a Sunday eve.

So, I have a book in my hand. I’m kinda reading it, well my eyes are at least. I don’t think my brain actually received whatever was happening between Khal Drogo and Danaerys or what Jon Snow was taking his oath in front of, in the Game of Thrones.

Another blurred series of minutes and I’m sitting now. But here’s how the people sitting across me looked like:

· A Malaysian Stripper

· An old friend from school

· An Al-Qaida Leader

· A dumb rich playboy

· A computer whiz kid/hacker

· Veerappan

· A crazy in love stalker

I was staring at them and the display board with the book in my hand & the headphones shouting a Portuguese song in my ears and I’m tripping inside a trip, something like an inception of drunkenness.

Well, somehow I manage to reach MG Road.

But ... The trip isn’t over yet !! Due to the rains and hyperinflation driven rates of the autorickshaws, I take the bus which drops me just metres away from my home (Yes ppl, Gurgaon has SOME public transport)

The amazing breeze & the drizzle actually helped another tripping session and in minutes, I de-boarded the bus.

I know its hard living with your parents & siblings again after 9 long years. Its difficult to adjust & you don’t have any space or freedom anymore. But does that mean that as soon as you get off the bus, they’re standing there to receive you ??

Even if they have just come there for a “Stroll”

So a long story short, treading in the minefield, I reach home safe & sound, without a beating & not even a pravachan or scolding.

SAFE & SOUND ... (But what when my lifelines finally run out L )

Tennis: The Tri - Wizard Tournament

2012-07-16T10:55:00.003-07:00

I just got my new laptop and I'm back to blogging.

Between selling off my PC and relocating to Gurgaon permanently, I didn't have much of a time to write and any time I got, was spent watching TV Shows and the Tennis Grand Slams.

Tennis is a game which is quite different from the other popular sporting events we watch. Here, we have a classical era and a modern era. Whenever drawing comparisons, we never compare the classical errans with the modern errans (That's a word I made up, so deal with it).

But why so ?? Has the game changed ?? Have the rules been modified ?? Was a new ground breaking technology invented ??

Whatever the reason might be, this post doesn't deal with the issue of this separatism. This post is about the current era of tennis we are witnessing. This era, possibly from 2010 - Current Date, is what I like to call, the TRIWIZARD ERA.

Like Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, we have Federer, Djokovic & Nadal. FedEX is our favourite no matter what happens, just like Hogwarts. Djoker is what they call the super good looking face of tennis (atleast my friend Diksha says so) and Rafa is the muscle and strength which Viktor Krum was made of. The three masters, ranked top 3 in ATP Rankings since don’t know how long back, battle it out not only in the Grand Slams but also the Davis Cup, Olympics and the other ATP Tourneys, be it for their country, their WAGs or themselves.

Until now, we have witnessed 3 Grand Slams in 2012. Djokovic defended his Australian Open title by defeating Nadal, Nadal took his revenge and defended his French Open title against Djokovic while Federer won his 17th Slam and 7th Wimbledon by defeating the Scottish hope Andy Murray.

Each of them won these titles on their best playing surfaces. Would you call it a home advantage or just a coincidence ??

In most famous tennis rivalries, we have seen at best 2 great players who were famous for being the corner stone of that age of tennis. Whenever a 3rd star entered the scene, one of the them would ultimately be etched out until only two remain.

Same was the case when the best tennis rivalry in the Tennis ages was formed; Federer v/s Nadal, who bagged all the Slam titles between them from 2005 – 2010.

Jelena Ristic (Djokovic)

Thus entered Djokovic. Taking the two champs by surprise, he won 5 Slams in the last 2 years. The usual trend almost followed when Federer dropped to World No. 3, lost to the likes of Tsonga & Murray (No offence to the French & the Scottish but Cmon, Its Roger Federer). Till now I believed the Swiss Maestro has lost his class and soon will be phased out but he proved the ordinary wrong when he came back won his record 7th Wimbledon title.

So. Is this the era of the triwizards or what ?? And along with that, it’s the age of the unlucky Scottish. No matter how super hot girlfriend he has and no matter how hard he tries, he always ends up on the losing side.

And now that I’m on it, how the hell do all of em so HOT WAGs ?? Its not like the women scouted for the best tennis talent and roped them in (No puns here fellas). Nadal, Djoko & Murray are all in their respective relationships for more than 4-5 years each while Federer met his wife during the Davis Cup.

Kim Sears (Murray)

Keeping Ivanovic, Sharapova & Kournikova aside, who knew Tennis was this glamorous ??

Coming back to the topic ...

The 4th and the final Slam will take place in US later this year where the defending champ Djoko will be the favourite. But we also have the Olympics before that. Federer & Nadal already have the Gold Medal under their belt but the World No. 1 would be ready ...

Hogwarts to Harvard ... A hopeful journey

2012-07-16T06:46:00.002-07:00

It is a nice evening here in Gurgaon.

When I couldn't sleep, I went out for a walk and called up a friend to catch up on what everyone from our class has been doing.

Frankly, after that 5 minute conversation,

I either wanted to go back in time to do exactly what my fellow CBSites had done – Study my ass off for the CAT / GMAT and get into a world class school and with 2 years of hard work, see it pay off by getting a job, earning 4 times the salary I’m currently making

Wait for another 3-5 years, as I planned, pick up work-ex along the way and apply to my dream school, HARVARD BUSINESS SCHOOL

So this is a journey I want to take.

From HOGWARTS, a school I read about in a book 5 years ago to HARVARD, a school I want to see myself in, 5 years down the line.

Like people say, it’s the journey, not the destination that is important.

But they never specify how frustrating it is to be on this journey, this path, where you see your fellow travellers on a similar road, taking different routes and reaching their goals so much quicker while you wonder, if your so called ‘journey’ is gonna be worth it or if you would be able to reach your goal at all.

So … HARVARD BUSINESS SCHOOL or referred to as H.B.S. !!

Ranked as the best B-School worldwide by various publications, part of the M3 (Other two being Stanford Graduate School of Business & Wharton School of Business) and the oldest of the Ivy League schools, HBS welcomes around 900 students every year into their MBA program.

900 is a huge number for such a prestigious school (Stanford takes in only about 250 and Wharton around 500) but so is the number of applicants. The chance of getting into this school is real slim. Only 12 out of every 100 applicants make it every year.

But as far as the supply & demand goes, all 900 of these students manage to find job offers of an average $100,000 a year.

So what does it take to get into HBS ??

They specify that each file a.k.a. each student application is unique and doesn't have to obtain a minimum score in every metric as the application as a whole is what makes or breaks a decision.

Although, it is recommended that you have:

An average GMAT/GRE Score of 730
Around 2-5 years of work-ex
110+ in TOEFL / 8 Bands+ in IELTS (Academic)
Some social work experience (It is important that every student gives something back to the society)
An Undergrad CGPA of around 3.5 (On a scale of 4)

Along with other standard academic requirements off course.

What do they teach you in there that in 2 years, you start minting one-tenth of a million dollars annually ??

Surrounded by professors who are the best in their fields worldwide and other 1,799 brilliant minds sure helps you bring on your A-Game

The people you connect with, the faculty – both permanent and visiting, the placement cell, the cultural diversity you experience being with students from every corner of the world and the friends you make in those 2 years coupled with the vast alumni network

Frankly, no one ever knows if they are the ‘perfect FIT’ for the school so its all in the hands of ‘Their Holiness, The Admissions Committee’.

A few examples of the accepted students are:

An orphaned girl who moonlighted as her school janitor
An IITian with a one year Master’s degree in some field
A BA (Honors) - Political Science graduate who worked with WHO to organize food camps for the underprivileged in Uganda
A BBA undergrad student from Stanford

So whoever reads this (actually reaches the end of this post without getting bored) and has some advice for me, please let me know.

On the other hand, anyone who needs help on this topic, you can count on some help from my side. After researching on this for 2 years and counting, I might be of some help at the least :)

Yellow: The mystery of the Universe

2012-06-24T04:53:00.003-07:00

"Feeling Yellow, I'm confused inside. A little hazy but mellow, when I see your eyes on me"

- Colorblind, Darius Danesh

I always feel there are mysteries in the universe we don't know about. I'm fascinated by the far away heavenly bodies I read about, all the stars and meteors NASA keeps discovering, light years away.

But some things that you see everyday, can easily be as mysterious.

Just like the color “Yellow”

The color of the sun, the marigolds, the flickering traffic light and one of the two dreaded cards on the soccer field, it has been a mystery to me all along.

The color is so reflective; it acts as a camouflage, hiding its own qualities and reiterating something entirely different.

Well, I couldn't think of more philosophical or thoughtful stuff about yellow so I made it not necessarily about the color, but all the mysteries it signifies.

The importance these secrets hold in our lives, is mind boggling.

Sometimes, it seems best just to shun them in a corner of your mind and forget about it, but at times, it nags you and eats you from the inside until you spill it out. And what is revealed and what isn't, makes it what it is.

So can we call it our very own Yellow Fever ?? Or as we say in French, "Comme si, comme ça" (As if, Like that)

Shakespeare wrote in Julius Caeser, whenever a man tries to cover up a fact, the nature makes it a point to uncover it and reveal the truth.

So what does it mean ?? even I’m confused now. Does a mystery stand for, "a truth not yet discovered" or "a cover up" ??

Come of think of it, I remember this one more incident with the color Yellow.

Some years back, when my relationship was on the rocks, out of the blue, my ex said. "Yellow".

When I asked what it meant, she simply said that the word gives her strength. But strength for what, to try and get through those difficult times or strength to just say the bitter words and end it once and for all ??

Guess even that'll remain a mystery for me huh ;)

"Look at the stars, Look how they shine for you. And everything you do, yeah they were all yellow. I came along, I wrote a song for you. And all the things you do and it was called yellow"

- Yellow, Coldplay

Till Death do us part !!

2012-05-30T23:39:00.000-07:00

"When I'm gone, just carry on don’t mourn, rejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice. Just know that, I’m looking down on you smiling and I didn't feel a thing, so baby don’t feel the pain, just smile back” – Eminem

In a wedding, in all the oaths, chants & the vows you hear, I mostly just remember the last line

"Till death do us part"

Sharing lives together, being partners in happiness, sadness, sickness & health till death does them apart.

What exactly happens when eventually death plays its part ??

Does anyone know that ? We all have our theories & beliefs, nothing else.

Some days back, a friend told me how one of our mutual friends drowned in Rishikesh. He wasn’t a close friend but certainly was a friend.

From that moment on, I can't stop thinking about him. I keep recalling the memories, the time I spent with him, even if it was just the brief 10 day trekking trip we took together.

Its not just him, but all the obituaries I've come across over the years, mostly on Facebook where one of the friends dedicates an fb page to pay tribute to their memories.

I can't but remember by ex-GF's best friend who left us a few years back. The last time she had called me, was to try patch things up between me & my ex but I was in such a foul mood, I ignored her call. At that point in time, talking to her didn't really seem important.

But right now, I wish I had taken that call.

Even if you think that it wouldn’t have made a difference or I wouldn’t have made any difference, I believe picking up the phone receiver could have caused a butterfly to flutter its wings differently and maybe she would've been still here with us. I didn't even know her that well but I wish she was here, with her friends, her younger brother & her mom.

One of my juniors at school, an adorable little kid, who resembled my brother, a boy of 15 years of age, who used to play for the school U-16 cricket team, passed away in the arms of his friend, while on tour to another school, coz of an asthma attack.

An uncle, who slipped in the middle of the night and never woke up, a physics teacher who died of throat cancer or a peon who fell under the school bus while boarding it.

I can't imagine the agony, shock and the sadness in the witnesses' eyes when I can't even bear the news which reached me a month after the demise.

You don't suddenly start seeing the Thestrals from the magical universe when you witness a death nor do you hear a canon shot fire when someone's heart stops beating in the hunger games arena but whatever the feeling is, it surely is unbearable.

It leaves a void, an emptiness which can be never be whole again but will only have to go numb with time. We can still see & talk to that person in our dreams but is that in our control ??

Even in that unreal dreamland, we just wish it to be like an inception, where death only results in waking you up from a deep slumber.

“You used to captivate me by your resonating light, now I'm bound by the life you left behind. Your face it haunts, my once pleasant dreams, your voice it chased away all the sanity in me” – Evanescence

Next - Yellow: The mystery of the Universe

Last - Gadgets to Girls = Ashes to Wine

Gadgets to Girls = Ashes to Wine

2012-05-26T10:49:00.000-07:00

My first post "The Yin - Yang Combo" was inspired by a song. The name of this post is also inspired by one !!

Ashes & Wine by 'A Fine Frenzy'.

But this time, the meaning is exactly the opposite of what Yin & Yang stands for.

Ashes & Wine are not related and obviously aren't from the same universe. Wine, which is an alcoholic beverage, consists of a lot of acids which dissolve anything and everything mixed with it but with one exception, charred ashes !!

That's exactly what Girls & Gadgets are !! They literally don't go well together ...

I'm not saying the girls don't even know their phone's model numbers. C'mon, that'll be an insult. But do they know:

· The tech specifications of their PC

· What’s a Graphic Card & if they need one in their PC (You remember this ??)

· Where exactly does the RAM fit inside the CPU

· How to reset the message center number in the phone & what IS a msg center

· How to get the IMEI number from the phone's memory

Oh trust me, I can go on forever.

So why exactly this kolaveri di ?? Guys nowadays have a sense of what fashion is, the most elite of the chefs in the world are men, changing a nappy isn't a rocket science for us anymore.

But these creatures from Venus ??

They can't handle the expensive little machines that make our lives so much easier. They rely on US for this task. A pretty face can wring you dry off your money, break up the closest of friendships & start the most brutal of wars but whenever it comes to these instruments, with their little buttons, sophisticated softwares and touch interfaces, they're the typical damsels in distress !!

If they actually are from Venus, the hottest planet (No Puns here guys) in the milky way (Over here too plz), then these gadgets are their KRYPTONITE.

Atleast I think so ...

Every girl can't be a Jessica Beil, operating a Military Tank while wearing a sizzling army tank top or ScarJo, who can hack into the most sophisticated of the defence systems in those hot leather pants or Megan Fox, who made Grand Theft Auto look like a piece of cake in that orange top & skin tight jeans.

They're all like a stereotypical Isla Fisher or Rachel Green, the fashionista shopaholics who know how to "swipe" a credit card but don't really know what's the mechanism behind the Credit Card POS Machine.

Therefore, I rest my case ...