It's a little bit the violin, but lots more who plays it.

I have no idea which clever soul coined the saying that is the title of this post, but it has
been a favourite of mine for many years. Every time I went fishing with my Shimano
fishing-gear and returned without catching even a single fish, I would be reminded of
this saying because I would see other fishers reeling in catch by the minute with just a
home-made fishing rod.

And day-before-yesterday's incident sort of proved the whole theory right. Being X'mas vacation, my sisters had come down with their family and my niece Divya had been after
me to take her fishing. The Shimano was not an option, since the rod had broken some
months ago and I did not get a replacement.

So, I fashioned out a fishing rod/reel using a bamboo rod, a piece of straw (for the float).
I ofcourse have the hook and string stocked at home. And off we go fishing. My plan was
to go to our plot of land near the river, where we had just recently reclaimed some of the
land that we had lost to the river over the years. This strip of reclaimed land was a good
option to fish from. But to our disappointment, the water is covered with hyacinth and
thus not a good place to fish because the hook would get entangled.

We move to the neighbouring plot which belongs to my Mom's cousin. He has built a series
of concrete steps leading down to the water & cleared a small patch of land where one could
sit and fish or read a book, watching the river flow by silently with the occasional fishing
canoe pass by.

We start fishing and Divya is all excited, but while the fishes cleverly eat the bait without
getting caught, she learns an important lesson in fishing - patience. And then I reel in our
first fish - nothing very big, but not that small either.

Divya fishing on the banks of the Achankoil river :


Now she is excited and wants to try her hand at it. I hand over the fishing rod to her and
take over the job of putting bait on the hook and throwing the line for her. In 15 minutes,
she reels in 3 fishes. Her joy knows no bounds - it is her first attempt at fishing & she has
already caught 3 fishes.

We would have loved to spend more time fishing, but it was getting late and we needed
to get back home. Since I have never returned from fishing with any fish, people at home
are not expecting this time to be any different. So they are surprised to see us return
with 4 fishes. The four fishes we caught - all of the same kind, known locally as "Paral".


The bigger of the 4 fishes.

As usual, my wife has the last word as she says tongue-in-cheek, "Given that Divya was

able to catch fishes so easily with a home-made fishing-rod, should you not have jumped

into the river out of shame?" Referring to the fact that I could not manage even a single

fish with the fancy Shimano.

Well, it sure is a little bit the fishing gear, but lots more who wields it. And ofcourse throw

in lots of luck.

What better gift than a nice read ? Especially one that you can't put down.

It was our wedding anniversary last week & my wife had a gift for me -a copy of Chetan
Bhagat's latest novel "2 States". It was a surprise. Not the gift, but the fact that not only
did she tolerate me (and my occasional eccentricities) all these years, but also felt like
getting a gift for me. :-)

This is Chetan's 4th book and the other 3 books are already part of my collection. Apart
from liking the way he writes, I like the way he prices his books. All his books are priced
at Rs.95 (2$) which is not only affordable to most people who form his readership, but by keeping the figure just below 3-digits, it kind of makes you think that it is not too much
money, as opposed to if the price was say Rs.100. You know, like how Bata prices their
footwear - Rs.199 instead of Rs200.

My wife tells me that she read somewhere that the pricing is his wife's idea - as if to rub
in the "behind every successful man, there is a woman" theory. :-) I don't really doubt
that because Chetan's wife is also an IIM product (IIM-A at that) and you don't just get
into an IIM without more-than-average grey matter.

I absolutely loved his first book "5 point someone" which is about his IIT experiences &
which is being made into a Hindi movie "3 Idiots". His second one, "1 night @ the call
centre" was good, but not as much as the first one. The 3rd book was "The 3 mistakes of
my life", which was about the Gujarat riots and in my opinion ranking last in his books.

The latest one "2 States" is actually a piece of fiction which is based on his life. Actually
based on his marriage - a Punjabi guy marrying a Tamil Iyengar girl. Can you imagine a
more explosive combination ? While we can talk all day about unity in diversity and all
that, in reality we are all different people and think of the other one as aliens.

Northies have their own beliefs about Southies, and vice versa. Even among Southies,
people belonging to each of the 4 Southern states have their own 'opinion' about those
from other states. Heck even in a state, people from various regions have their own
prejudices about those from other regions.

An apt example is the South/North divide in Kerala. The Northies (those from Kannur, Kozhikode, etc) have a saying "Thekkane-yum Moorkkane-yum kandaal, thekkane
aadyam kollanam", which translates into "If you come across a South-Keralite and a
Cobra, kill the Southie first". Meaning that a Southie is more harmful than a poisonous
Cobra. Hey, I am from South Kerala, though not sure if I am dangerous than a Cobra.

There is nothing really fancy about how Chetan writes. Actually the writing is simple &
that I guess is what endears him to readers. You feel he is telling a story and you are
listening. And in this book, he has effortlessly covered the general Delhi-Punjabi psyche,
their interests (eating, showing off & splurging) and has also adeptly captured the typical TamBram way of life (valuing education above everything else, equally at home with
technology & horoscopes, the coy-girl-at-home-but-wild-outside syndrome etc).

And if you leave apart his IIT and IIM exposure, most guys would be able to identify with
him on many counts. I for one could relate to so many incidents in just the first half of the
book (I could not finish it) that it felt like he has written my story.

There is the part about how he tries to win over the conservative TamBram parents of
his girlfriend, but does not seem to be succeeding. And finally he gets a chance to bond
with his future FIL, when the latter has to make a very important presentation at office
and seeks his help with PowerPoint. Over a period of few days, they get close enough
for FIL to offer him a drink from the Chivas Regal that a potential suitor (US educated TamBram guy working for Cisco - LOL) for his daughter had presented him.

And FIL proceeds to pour 4 tablespoons of whisky into a glass for himself & asks Chetan
how many spoons he needs. Ofcourse, the Punjabi he is, Chetan pours his drink from the
bottle sans spoon, which amazes FIL who says, "My wife does not let me drink more than
4 spoons a day". And as they work overnight on the presentation, they end up finishing
3/4th of the bottle.

My normal style of reading books is at-one-go - I don't need food or sleep or anything if
I have a good book in hand. But with work, time for my son/wife and other chores, this
style does not work anymore. So, I tried to read this book in bits - while having a smoke
in the yard, in the loo etc. But I still could manage to complete only 1/2 the book over the
last weekend.

I had to return to Chennai & could have used the time on the train to finish it. But I saw
that my wife was also following the book when she got some spare time & thinking that
she would want it, I left it at Kerala. I can't wait to get back home this Saturday to read
the rest of this absolutely un-putdownable book.

If you like books (light fiction) and have not read Chetan Bhagat yet, I would highly
recommend "2 States"and after that I am sure you will find yourself buying his other
books.

P.S. : Inspite of being a fan of Chetan's writing and reading his books, I did not know (till
I read about it on a website yesterday) that there was a common thing about the titles
of all his books - they all have a number in them - 5, 1, 3 & 2.

When was your city last razed to the ground ?

While at Serbia, we one day invited Mirko (an engineer with our client) for lunch at an
Indian restaurant. After placing the order and while waiting for the food to be served,
we were making small talk, discussing about each other's countries.

At school, History was one of my favourite subjects. Mainly because I like to read and
history is all about interesting stories, and also because I like to write and what better
platform for waxing eloquent than a history examination ? :-)

There was no Serbia then (it was Yugoslavia) and President Tito was well known in India because of his being one of the founders of NAM (Non Aligned Movement) along with the
then Indian Prime Minister Nehru. Even today, most people to whom I mentioned that I
had been to Serbia, confuse it with Siberia (Russia). But the moment you say Yugoslavia,
they know.

We had a barrage of questions for Mirko, who cheerfully helped clear our doubts. He had
just one question for us though : "When was your city last razed to the ground ?"

We were like, Huh ?

I really don't know when Chennai was last razed to the ground. Infact I don't think it was
razed in recent times - atleast in the last 60 years or more. When we told him that such
a thing has not happened (fortunately) to our city in a long time, he was kind of surprised.

And as usual Google helped me clarify why Mirko had that doubt. As per Wikipedia, "the
city of Belgrade was battled over in 115 wars & razed to the ground 44 times since the
ancient period by countless armies of the East and West." No wonder Mirko felt it odd
and maybe even boring that no one razed Chennai to the ground.

Most days after work, the 3 of us would get together in my room and talk shop and to
enjoy some nice Serbian wine/brandy. That day, the topic was Mirko's 'strange' query
& I told my colleagues about how Belgrade has been razed to the ground some 44 times.

One of my colleagues promptly said that he knows the reason why all these armies
over-ran Belgrade so many times. Since the said colleague was not known to really
be a history-buff, I was curious how he knew why this city was the target of so many
armies and ask him the reason.

As per him it was pretty elementary and he was surprised that we did not know the
reason. On prompting, he says, "You guys are dumb. Given the beautiful women
here, is it surprising that this country was fought over in 115 wars or was razed to
the ground 44 times? All those armies came for the women, dude."

Can't argue with that logic, can ya ?

A year on - the victims cry, while the perpetrator has fun.

When something earth-shattering happens, we remember where we were and what we
were doing that day. When Rajiv Gandhi was assasinated in 1991, I was at Ranipet doing
in-plant training at the facility of BHEL. When his Mom, Indira Gandhi was assasinated
by her own body-guards, I was at Kerala and the moment the car announcing the news
passed by, my Mom's favourite doll fell from the showcase and shattered into pieces.

When 9/11 happened, I was driving from work to the gym, listening to the car-radio and
when they mentioned about planes hitting the WTC, I was like "this is some spoof" and I
ignored the news only to get home and have my wife tell me that it was indeed real.

When 26/11 happened, I was again at Kerala & it was on prime-time television, like some
soap. Just that it was real and real people were losing their lives. For 2-3 days, those few
***holes held my country at ransom as we all were left to watch T.V., while they shed the
blood of innocent people.

After the whole drama ended, what remained was a series of images - of dead people/cops,
of injured people, a traumatised nation that could not believe that a few guys could come
over via the sea and wreak havoc in our country. But to me, what endured was the image
of Moshe, the Israeli kid who lost his parents in that bloodshed in Bombay (I hate the new
name of Mumbai, just like I hate the new name of Chennai).

Moshe was bawling, like any kid in his situation. He had lost his parents, though at his very
tender age, he would not know what life and death meant. I did a blog post on him then and
was reminded of him a few days ago when the newspapers started profiling the first Anniv.
of the carnage. He reminded me of my own son - not that they are facially similar, just that
I worried how my son would cope without me. In the crying Moshe, I saw my son.

Last Sunday, the New Indian Express had their supplement devoted to 26/11 and one of
the articles was about Moshe. He used to cry out in his sleep for his parents. Today he still
kisses the photos of his parents and asks his grandparents where they are. A kid of just two
years, he remembers. And cries...

On the other hand, we have the perpetrator - Kasab. A kid, if you go by his age, but someone
who killed many. He is the lone survivor of the gang that hit Bombay. We all saw him on TV,
spraying bullets all around. Is there any more evidence needed ? But no, we can't be seen as
a country that does not give a fair trial. So, for the past 1 year, we have had him making the
rounds of the court, grinning at times, asking for Biriyani etc.

Can you imagine what his situation would have been if he had been in Pakistan ? Gallows.
And if he had done this crime in the US ? He would be in Guantanomo Bay, subject to the
torture exercise called water-boarding. But in India, he is having fun. Asking for biriyani,
making faces at the media etc.

The kin of his victims want him dead. No trial, no nothing - just the gallows. But would that
be enough punishment for someone who left a kid an orphan or snatched the parents of
many families ? No, that would be an easy death - not enough punishment for the havoc
he created.

What would be the best punishment for him that would make him regret what he did ?
Imprisonment at Tihar jail in the company of dreaded criminals who would make day &
(more importantly night) difficult for him. That would be fair. Hope someone up there in
the soft state called India understands this and takes appropriate action.

It was already a small world. The internet shrunk it even more.

Every now and then I check out the sitemeter statistics of my blog, just to know who is
visiting my blog, from which country and how do they land up here. Is it while searching
for something else or direct to read my posts ?

Today the total visitor count showed 4500, a nice round figure and I went through the
stats. My normal daily hit-rate is like 7-8 visitors, which I know is miniscule compared
to the hits many blogs get. But when I saw that in just the early hours of today, there
were like 10 visitors, I became curious. There had to be some reason for this activity.

I checked details of some of the visits & found that one of the visitors had been referred
by http://www.ambassador-serbia.com/2009/11/24/the-beauty-of-serbian-women/ Wondering why this site would refer my blog, I go there and see that they have featured
my email about "more beauty per square metre".

This is the first time I have come across a website featuring my post and have to admit
that it felt good. To quote from the feature, "Last month, we wrote about an Indian
guy who spent a week working in Serbia saying that Serbian women are the most
beautiful on earth. Back in India, he’s still amazed with the beauty of Serbian women
& goes on to write another blog post about Serbian women. In fact, it’s an email that
he has sent to his colleagues a few days after landing at Belgrade. The email is so good
that I ended up including the whole thing, because it’s too good not to read — but check
out Indiandream’s site directly"

Since they would be moving to another feature (about Serbia) soon, I thought it would be
nice to have a snapshot of the blog as it looks now - below.

Apparently, this blog is about anything Serbian & the idea of this blog is to promote Serbia

and dispel any negative myths about the country. Nice effort and a well-designed site too.

And guess what, these guys do a good research on their posts too. They dug up the "I am"
poem from my archives which is like 4 years old and where I had mentioned that Keralite women are the most beautiful on earth. In the context of my "Serbian women post", it
would look like after visiting Serbia, my impression about Keralite women has changed. :-)

So, to clarify :
It is not like I changed my mind after seeing Serbian women. The crux of my post on Serbian women was about abundance of beauty ie. the ratio of beautiful women to
total women in Serbia was high. This is what puzzled me enough to write that post.

In India (all the states) and other countries also, there are amazingly beautiful women.
But what IMHO differentiated Serbia from these countries is that the %age of beautiful
women in the population is more in Serbia.

So, yeah, there are beautiful women in India, Japan, US, Belgium etc, but the ratio of
beautiful women to total female population is more in Serbia. Hope this clears things.

It sure is a small world. I post something - google spreads the word - someone from
faraway Serbia picks it up - I find out that they have picked it up - and post about it
here. Amazing, to say the least.

Something you did not know about Belgrade - more beauty per square metre.

This was the email I referred in the preceding post and which was posted on tbhp,
only to be snipped and consigned to the dustbin in etherspace. :-)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sub : Something you did not know about Belgrade - more beauty per square metre.
Sent : 12 October 2009 17:16PM
To : The_Office_Gang

It is not even a week since I landed at Belgrade, but it did not take me more than an hour
on the streets of Belgrade to realise that there is something very special about this place.
On the first day, I am walking to work & 99.9% women seen on the street are hot facially,
have great eyes, nice complexion & a figure that would give any movie actress (Bollywood, Hollywood whatever) a complex.

Even middle-aged women have an hour-glass figure. By looking at a woman from behind,
you would not be able to tell if she is 20 years old or 50. Initially I thought it must be just
a coincidence. But when each and every woman/girl on the street looks like a model and
the paved streets resemble a catwalk, the coincidence-theory flies out of the window.

When you add to this the fact that the "national dress" of Serbian-women is sleeve-less,
low-neck T-shirt and jean/mini-skirt, it becomes tough to negotiate your way on the
streets without banging into some pillar or the other. Actually T-shirt is a misnomer. It is
more like a man's vest (banian), just that it is colorful and is loooooow neck. After a week
here, cleavage has lost any charm that it had.

One of the first things (actually the 1st thing) my colleague who reached here a week
ahead of me, told me when I reached Belgrade was "Man, the girls here are hot".
Having seen some hot women in Belgium/Holland/France, I dismissed it off as being
because it is his first visit to Europe. Only to realise that I was so wrong.

The second thing he said (with quite a tinge of sadness) was "They do not even give
you a look." That was also so true. You pass by all these attractive women and not
even one even acknowledges your existence. Being the curious type, I decided to get
to the root of this. After all, how is it possible that all the women of a country can be
so attractive ?

A google search for "Serbian girls" led me to a few blogs, which confirmed that indeed
this was something any visitor to Serbia has experienced. Some attribute it to genetics,
some to the women taking great care in maintaining themselves etc. But what everyone
finally agrees on is that Serbia is one place on earth where you find more beauty per
square metre. I think Serbia should trademark this tagline.

And, it is not just men who have experienced this, there are blogs writtten by women
who felt severe inferiority complex on seeing the female beauty in Serbia. The blogs
also confirmed that the women here are aware that they are awesome and which is
the reason why they do not acknowledge stares from the drooling men. If at all you
think you would like to have a chance with these ladies, be prepared to have deep
pockets and a high-end car (a Merc S-class or a M-class should do).

Bottomline : If you are able to get to Serbia on work (like me), well and good. If not, beg/borrow/steal to have a vacation here. Only thing to remember is that you should
not bring your wife/gf - not a good idea.

P.S. : Another great thing about this place is the awesome range of cars on the streets.
I am yet to come across a country that has battered Yugos/Ladas to S-classes. Even
our Maruti-800 is here, so is the Santro, Getz, Optra etc etc. But then I am sure none
of you would be coming over here to checkout cars. :-)

BTW, a dollar gets you 62 Dinars, which makes it I guess a great destination for those
from the US. Another reason for you to come down. :-)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And these were some of the snaps I posted on the forum. I am aware that these snaps
might not be that great to back up my claim of Serbian women being the most pretty
on earth. But then, clicking humans is not as easy as clicking cars - the cars don't mind
their pictures being taken. So, these are just random shots that we could take.

1) A mother of two kids - yet so svelte.


2. Exudes attitude with an 'A'. I am not hazarding a guess as to her age.


3. Two kids - late teens maybe.


4. This lady would be in her late thirties or early forties, but she had an amazing poise.
Pity the snap does not do justice to her looks.


5. Two girls at the campus of Belgrade University.

6. This is a professional model. But unlike other places where models stand apart from

normal women in looks/figure, in Serbia she is just one of the many women like her.


7. A very pretty girl at a coffee-shop.


8. Catwalk on the streets.


9. See the long black tresses on this girl.


And that's all the snaps I had.

Where I am both the contributor and the moderator

I was talking to a colleague who bought a Chevy Spark recently. He was telling me how he
stumbled across team-bhp during his car search and that the forum is a mine of information
on anything about cars and that he is addicted to the forum.

I could easily relate to it because that was exactly how I stumbled upon team-bhp in 2005
when I was searching for information on the Baleno. Me & wifey had finalised the WagonR
and that was then I did (just like that) a test-drive of the Baleno. After a 4km drive on the
TIDEL road, I was floored by the amazing pickup and driveability of the car.

And as if to prove a point, the sales-guy had me drive the car with the driver-side window
fully open and inspite of the typical noon-time Chennai summer heat, the a/c kept us all
cool. But then from 4lakhs, I was now increasing my budget to 6lakhs and I wanted to be
sure that I was not buying a car that would kill me in maintenance or fuel. So, started to
get info on the car - from owners and online.

This led me to team-bhp and it did not take me long to understand that this was a real
under-rated car, which not only was a deal at 6L, but also beat many costlier cars in
torque, quickness, 0-100 timings, fuel-efficiency etc. And guess what, the sales-guy had
a point - in a test conducted by a car-magazine to check the a/c effectiveness of cars in
India, the Baleno was the first. Beating even the Merc S-class, a car costing 75 lakhs or so.

Anyway, I told my colleague that I understand his addiction and that he will learn a lot
from the site and that the main reason for the site's quality is the effective moderation
done by the 10-12 moderators. They ensure that people stick to the topic of the thread,
do not indulge in personal attacks, spam, trolling etc and are the reason why this site is
one of the best in India.

But little did I realise that in just a few days of saying this, I would be at the receiving
end of the moderator's scissors. :-) As I mentioned in an earlier post, I am doing a
thread on the cars in Serbia and in passing I mentioned there about how the Serbian
women seemed to be the most beautiful in the world. Some guys wanted more info
on that and ofcourse photos to back my claim.

So 2 days ago, I posted there an email that I had sent to my colleagues a few days after
landing at Belgrade. Also posted some snaps that me & my colleagues had taken of the
women there. Knowing the rules of the forum, I was sure that there was nothing lewd
or objectionable in the email and the photos were also not smutty. But ofcourse one of
the moderators in his wisdom, felt that the post did not belong there and deleted the
post.

While I did think that there was nothing in the post to require deletion, I left it at that.
But, I felt that the post did not deserve to be in my email SentItems and needed a larger
audience. I wrote that email on 12th October and many-a-time I thought I should post
it here, but somehow did not. After the post got deleted, I decided that I need to put it
up here, where the only censoring that applies is self-censoring - my own.

Which I guess, is what makes blogs such a great medium. I am the contributor and I also
am the moderator. Just because the blog is mine, I can't print trash or defame someone.
But in my wisdom, if I think that a post is good to be in the public domain, it will figure
here. The next post will be about this facet of Serbia - it's women. Stay tuned.

When a lie-detector would have come in handy.

Have you ever found yourself mediating a dispute between two individuals ?

If both are honest, the mediating part is easy because you can easily make out who is
wrong and then it is just about making the wrong-doer understand his fault. But what
if both are lying about their role in the dispute ? It is plain tough as I learnt yesterday.

I first had the guy tell me how it was just not his fault that the whole fight happened
& that he was avoiding a fight until it was thrust in his face and he had to get physical.
Talking to him, I felt he had a point - sometimes women can be crappy.

Only till I talked to the girl. She was all tears and I could barely make out what she was
saying. Even in normal times, a girl's tears can make me (and most men) melt. So for a
few seconds, I was left speechless. She went on to say how she was avoiding a fight and
it was thrust in her face, till she could no longer avoid. And when she talked back, she
got hit by the guy.

Hey, wait. Wasn't that what the guy also said ? I was now seriously confused. More so
because I was talking to them over the phone & when you are not talking face-to-face,
it is all the more difficult to know if a person is lying or not. Not that it would have helped
if they were in front of me, because I am not really that good at catching liars by facial expressions, as I know from experience.

Anyway, as the girl was telling me her story, it was just 3 minutes to 7 PM (yesterday)
and time for my daily telecon. Ofcourse, I could not tell a weeping girl that I had to hang
up on her for some lousy call at work. So, I told her that a better judge would be my wife
and asked them both to call her - she knows them as well as I do.

As I return to work, I wonder how great it would have been to have a lie-detector, which
would have helped me solve this puzzle, where both seemed to be genuine. Though I am
sure that one of them has to be lying, because if both were so good as they claimed, the
fight would not have happened in the first place.

And yeah, the lie-detector would have come in handy for some other stuff too.

Mixing devotion and technology. How about a remix instead ?

In the beginning, man created the plain old landline with its usual tring-tring noise
& people were happy that they could communicate long distance without travelling.
No one cared about missed calls or tried to take a 2nd call when already on the line
with someone, like some people I know do.

Then cellphones came into the world with customisable music-only ring-tones. After
that mobile manufacturers let you actually set songs of your choice (music + lyrics)
as ring-tones, which mainly served the purpose of irritating everyone around you,
more than letting you know of an incoming call.

But man (or woman) is never satisfied and thus arose the need for ring-back tunes or
hello-tunes, which is what someone who calls your phone gets to hear. And hey, if it is
a song I like, I don't have any issues with the same. For eg. a friend, who occasionally
drops in at this blog has the lovely single "Every breath you take and every move you
make" from "Police" as his ring-back tune. So on the rare occassions that I call him, it
is a pleasure to listen to that lovely song.

But some hello-tunes can be plain irritating, especially if you have to go through it many
times a day. At work, there are 2 people whom I have to call atleast 4-5 times a day. One
of them is our lab engineer and he comes across as a very devotional guy - ash/vibhuti on
the forehead etc - and it is no surprise that his ring-back tone is a Hindu devotional hymn
which starts off as "Om namo...". But then it is his phone &his choice and anyway, I need
to call him only if there is something screwed up in the lab.

The other colleague is someone I have to call up more regularly because she is part of 2
projects I lead. Since the thin line between workdays and weekends has merged, I have
to endure her ring tone on weekends also. She also has set a devotional hymn (Sashti-e
nokka Saravana ...) as her ring-back tone.

Initially, it felt good to listen to it, but then over time it gets to you when you hear the
whole song 4-5 times a day. More so because sometimes she takes a long time to answer
calls and you have to go through the whole song.

Again its her phone and her choice of ring-back tune. But that song always reminds me
of a beautiful song (Padhinettu vayadhu, ila vatta manadhu, yengudhu pai poda) from
the Tamil movie Suriyan, which is set to the music of her hello-tune. Not only are the
lyrics / music awesome, but actress Roja enacted the dance sequence so senuously that
it remains a favourite of mine, even though that movie came out a decade or more ago.

I so wish my colleague would set this movie-song as her hello-tone and then I would
maybe even dial her phone just like that only to listen to that awesome song. Since that
is not going to happen, maybe I should set it as my ring-tone so that I get to hear it,
everytime someone calls me.

P.S. : I just viewed the Suriyan song on YouTube here. And man, Roja is just amazing.
The last 15 seconds of the video go to prove that size-zero is trash, when it comes to
feminine beauty.

Planetary beliefs in the info age.

After hitting the snooze button many times, I finally tear myself away from the comfort
of my bed at 7:30 AM today. I am ready by 8AM and as I drive out of the apartment
complex, my gaze falls on a svelte sari-clad figure walking on the left side of the road.

From the walk/gait/figure, I know that it is Sandy (not her real name), a resident
of our apartment complex. I know her from the time she was in the 11th Standard
- I had just completed my Engineering studies and we had moved recently into our
apartment after letting it out on rent for 4 years.

One of the two daughters of a Malayalee couple settled in Chennai, she was the exact
opposite of her younger sister. While both sisters were pretty, the younger one (let's
call her Shalu) was generally considered by guys in the neighborhood to be a shade
more appealing.

It helped that the younger sibling had dimpled cheeks and always had a flirty/naughty
smile playing on her lips, while elder sis Sandy was more the serious type. My opinion
was different though - I thought the serious maturity of Sandy was more beautiful than
the playfulness seen in Shalu.

Anyway, as time went by, I became busy with work and travel, while they joined college,
then took up jobs and Sandy even did a stint on TV - she hosted a show on a Malayalam
TV channel. On the rare occasions when I came across her show, I felt that while some
mediocre-looking people look great on photo/video, it is the opposite for some like Sandy,
who look great in person.

Anyway, I am not sure if she still does any TV work - I don't watch much TV anyway.
But I understand she works as a teacher and on all days when I have left home at 8AM,
I have seen her walking the 1km or so to the main road. In all these years, there never
arose a need/occasion for me to talk to either of the sisters, though as the Secretary of
the Flat Association, I did drop in at their home a few times to talk to their Dad - who
was the President.

And then a few years ago, I heard that her sister was getting married. In India, it is
unusual for the younger sister to get married before the elder and the talk was that
Sandy had 'Chowa Dosham' - a planetary fault - due to which marriage alliances did
not work out. I don't believe in horoscopes (we don't have one made anyway) and
so 'Chowa dosham' or any other dosham for that matter, is just a load of bull, to me.

Anyway, while her sister got married, became a parent and moved on only to visit
on vacation, Sandy continues to stay with her parents. On the rare occasions that I
come across her, I think how unfortunate it is that such a fine girl/woman, who is
good-looking, well-behaved, educated, and employed should remain a spinster just
because some star/planet is in some phase.

Already we see people giving horoscopes the pass and in many cases caste/religion
is no longer an issue too, when it comes to marriage. Hopefully the next generation
would really leave all these trivia behind and choose partners based on compatibility.

From the mouth of babes

After a nice lunch, my wife and son are in the mood for an afternoon siesta. A common
practice here, which my parents also follow. Though I don't have this habit, the incessant
rains make it feel like it would be good to curl up in bed. So, the three of us hit the bed
for a short nap.

But like always, it is a tough thing to get my son to take a nap. He sits up on the bed and
starts playing with his 'laptop'. It is actually a plastic cuboidal bag in which came his plastic
alphabet/number blocks. It has a string handle which he slings around his neck and acts
as if he is typing on the laptop. And the following conversation ensues between Mom & son.

Aman : Why does Dad have to go to Madras ?
Mom : Because he needs to work.

Aman : Why does Dad need to work ?
Mom : So that he can earn money.

Aman : Why does Dad need to earn money ?
Mom : So that he can buy you all sorts of toys. You want toys, don't you ?

Aman : No, I don't want any toys.
Mom : You don't ? Why ? I thought you liked toys.

Aman : No, I don't like any toys.

Silence ensues for a few minutes, while Aman gets back to his laptop and we try to sleep.

Aman : Mom, I want a new car. A blue one.
Mom : Ask your Dad. See, this is why he needs to work. So that he can buy cars for you.

Aman : But he can just buy it from Madras.
Mom : Yeah, but don't we need money to buy cars ?

Aman : Yes, I will make money.
Mom : (Wide-eyed now) How will you make money ?

Aman : I will do work.
Mom : What work will you do ?

Aman : I will do the same work that Dad does and make money.
Mom : You will work on the laptop like him and make money ?

Aman : Yes.

I am listening to the whole thing and wonder if kids of my generation were also like this.
The stuff that kids of today talk seem to be so much beyond their age. Maybe it is the
kind of exposure they have from birth. They grow up with mobile phones, internet, DVD
players, cars, air-travel etc etc, most of which in my childhood were just ideas in the minds
of their inventors. Well, we learn new things every day.

When you run fearing an army and run into...

Looks like the monsoons has set in over Tamilnadu. It had been raining on and off for the
past 2 weeks and then strengthened over the last week and by last Friday, the rain-gods
were in full form.

When it comes to rains, Chennai is kind of in a fix. We cannot do without the meagre quota
of annual rains, because the reservoirs feeding the city's water-lines would dry up, leading
to water scarcity. And we cannot also handle too much rains due to the way the soil here is
leading to water-stagnation, flooding etc. And ofcourse traffic becomes a nightmare.

Commuting to work & back becomes a pain due to the flooded roads and because those
that usually commute by bikes would bring out their cars during rains, leading to traffic
becoming even more dense. So, when my manager was OK with me working from home
this week, I was happy. But what awaited me at Kerala was even more rains. And this
is the typical Kerala rain, which pours by the bucketful. Only consolation is that I don't
need to drive to work.

Reminded me of a Malayalam saying "Pada pedichu pandala-thu poyaal, pandam-koluthi
pada". Translated to English, this would mean "I ran away to Pandalam fearing the army,
only to run into an army carrying burning-torches". Pandalam is a town in Kerala, some
20 kms from my place.

I hear from my friend in Chennai that all through the weekend it has been raining cats &
dogs there and the newspapers predict more rains. Just hope the city is able to handle it.

Sorry for helping myself to your net connection, Senthil. Thanks though.

Many years ago, dial-up internet was a cool thing. You dialed-in via the POTS (Plain Old Telephone System) twisted-pair line that terminated at your home and were greeted
with the modem static noise & then you got connected to the Web at a measly bitrate
of say max. 56kbps. And you were happy, because there was nothing else available.

Ofcourse, even in India where simple things take years to happen, broadband came in,
offered by the Govt. behemoth BSNL and other private operators and quickly the whole
world had jumped in to enjoy hi-speed internet.

Except ofcourse yours truly, who had various reasons to not go the broadband way :
i) I am anyway spending my non-sleeping hours at office where we have a leased line
with much better speed.
ii) I am anyway going to move to Kerala (yeah, long time dream) - so why bother ?
iii) etc etc

So, on the very rare occasions that I needed to check something on the net, I would
still go dial-up. Ofcourse after clicking on a link, I had enough time to put a pot of tea
on the cooking range and by the time I was back, the page would be just loading.

And then last month I decided enough was enough & summoned the courage to land up
at a BSNL customer service centre for a broadband connection. After about a week of
applying, some souls from BSNL landed up at my place & put a broadband connection
in place.

I assumed that all my worries of net connectivity were over. Ofcourse, that was not the
case. Over the last month, I saw that the modem takes its own sweet time to come up
and get connected. And as soon as I heave a sigh of relief and get online, the connection
is disrupted.

This becomes doubly irritating because of the additional effort and time involved in
connecting to my office network via VPN using a SoftToken key, which is a process in
itself. So everytime net connectivity is lost, the VPN connection also breaks and I need
to start all over again.

Yesterday, after reaching home around 10:30 PM, I realised that I forgot to send out
some details that my manager had asked for. So, I decide to get online and send off the
email. I switch on the modem and after a few minutes, all the relevant lights on the
front-panel are on, indicating that everything is fine.

Wireless connectivity indicates strength to be 80% and shows 'connected', which means
I am ready to surf. But No, I can't get on the internet. I try a few things - check settings,
try wired-connectivity, reset modem etc, but still no connectivity.

As I curse BSNL and am about to give up, I see another available wireless connection in
the list. It just says "Senthil", which I assume must be the name of one of my neighbours
in the adjoining flats and whose net connection has been configured with his name.

The signal strength is only 20%, but what surprises me is that my laptop has locked-on
to and connected to that connection. And guess what I am online. I VPN into my office
network, send out the email, check my mails, reply to some urgent ones and inspite of
the 20% strength, it was not slow by any means. Work done, I log off the connection.

If I knew that inspite of having my own broadband connection, I would need to rely
on someone else's net account, I would not have opted for a connection of my own.
So, Senthil, thanks for helping me out, albeit unknowingly. And sorry for adding a few
hundred KB to your data usage.

Roti, kapda aur makaan. Aur TV bhi. What next ? A laptop ?

I overslept and am late for work. Since I have to stop at the telephones office and my
bank on the way, I am rushing to work. Enroute, there is a small traffic jam in one of
the streets at Trust Puram - a traffic jam due to lots of people on the streets.

Not many vehicles though, just a few autos. Most of the people seem to be carrying big
cartons & are all smiles. Some are loading these cartons into auto-rickshaws, while the
rest are carrying it on their shoulders.

Does not take much time for me to figure out what the cartons are. They are the free
TVs doled out by the Tamilnadu government - an election promise of the ruling combine
being fulfilled. As I cross the traffic jam, there is some sort of a government office where
the TVs are being handed over and there are some 500 or more people standing in 5-6
queues. Waiting for their turn to get the free TV.

I am sure this must be a first in the world. A government doling out TVs to the electorate.
And that too in a state, which already has a high TV penetration, thanks to the influence
movies have had here for decades. Which means most of these people now have a TV for
the bedroom too.

I even know some pretty well-off people who stood in line to get this TV, just because
it is free. And in India, if it is free, we find it tough to resist, even if it is a product that
is low-quality or something we don't need.

But hey, how is this TV free ? Is the politician paying for this from his pocket ? No.
It is the state that bears this burden and where does the state get money from ?
From the taxes that you and me pay. Taxes which should ideally be used to
enforce law & order, to maintain roads, storm-water drains, to provide better
administration etc etc.

As always, the politicians know that we are suckers for freebies and use this to push
valid issues of public concern under the carpet, while we stand in line for free TVs.
Come next elections, the promise will be free laptops for everyone. Doesn't matter
that most people dont have any use for it. As long as there are suckers like me/you
to foot the bill, and other suckers to stand in line, why would the politician care ?

Hey, the Serbs are a lot like us Indians.

As I mentioned in a previous post, Belgrade (written as 'Beograd' and pronounced here
as Beyograad') has quite some resemblance to any Indian metro -basically in terms of
the infrastructure. The roads are like we have in Chennai - mostly good, but occasionally
bumpy. Like the old housing board apartments you see in Chennai, there are similar old buildings in Belgrade too. The cars scene is also like in India - small hatches are favourites
here too.

But what really interested me was the similarity between the people. Ofcourse being
Caucasians, the skin tone is different from Indians, but there are quite some similarities
in the way they think and do things.

Maybe this could be because it is also a developing country like ours. Like us, they try
to reuse / recycle everything. For eg. I do not buy special "garbage-bags". Instead, I
use the thin polythene covers in which my groceries come in. In our client's office, I saw
the maid do the same thing - for the dustbins, they use the polythene covers in which
the staff buy & bring-in bakery products.

Also, like us (and unlike Americans), they do not believe in if-it-is-broken-throw-it
and buy-a-new-one. Like I would try to repair and use a product till there is no more
life in it, I see people here also do the same.

And just because some product is old / out-of-fashion, they don't just go ahead and
replace it. Everything is used till it is no more usable. So common a practice in India.
Check-out the hanging flush-lever in this Water Closet. The last time I saw such a
flushing system was in Assam in the early-eighties. But it works, so they use it.


And ofcourse the famous 'jugaad' (make-shift) quality of Indians is very much seen
in Serbia also. If a device doesn't work, we would do some make-shift to get it usable.
These guys are good at that too. Check out the lock on the restroom door at our client's
place.


It was nice to come across countries in Europe that believe in the 3 Rs (Reduce, Reuse & Recycle), which goes a long way in saving the environment.

The 2nd hair-cut.

Till some 2 months ago, my wife used to trim Aman's hair, which was possible only when
he is sleeping because otherwise he won't sit still while she was at it. Ofcourse, this was'nt resulting in a proper haircut & we decided that it was time for him to get a proper haircut
at the neighborhood barber-shop.

I have no idea whether he would sit still and allow the barber to trim his hair, but I decide
to give it a try. As he sits in a nearby chair, I get myself a haircut first. The idea is that he
sees me getting a haircut and understands that this is a normal thing and nothing to be
afraid of. As expected, he curiously watches as I get my hair cut.

Then when it is his turn, I decide to take it easy the first time. Instead of him sitting alone
in the chair, I seat him on my lap and the barber trims his hair. Overall, he was pretty still during the process.

Last week it was time for the 2nd haircut. Again, I had my hair cut first with him watching.
This time around, I felt he could sit on the chair on his own and have the hair-cut done. A
thick cushion is put on the chair and Aman is seated on it.

Last time there was no cloth around the neck, so I wonder if he will allow it or not.
But even though he finds it odd, he allows the cloth to be around him. And for most
of the time, he was still except when trimmed hair fell on his cheeks, which triggers
an itch. Ofcourse I was nearby to brush off the hair from his face and at the end of
the haircut, the barber was appreciative of the fact that he sat still and did not make
a fuss, like some other kids do.

Some snaps I took of Aman at his 2nd hair-cut.




It is kind of funny to see him all wrapped up in the pink cloth. At the same time from the
way he is sitting so still and calm, there is no indication of the naughty kid he usually is. :-)

A white crow ? No way can you fool me again.

A month or so ago, my niece Divya called me up all excited about a place in Cochin where
one could pay & take short horse-riding sessions. When I asked where it was in Cochin,
she said that she will not disclose the location, but if we were to come to Cochin, she will
take us there.

I told her that we need not drive 100 kms to Cochin to do horse-riding and that I was
planning to buy a pony for Aman. She believed my story & sounded very excited about
the prospect of having our own pony. I left it at that as I was just kidding.

Ofcourse, Divya believed what I said and this became a big topic of discussion for her at
home. Even though my sister tried to convince her that I was joking about buying the
pony, she would not believe it. Her logic being, "Mom, Biju-uncle will get anything for
Aman. So I am sure he would have bought a pony".

As I am driving home from work one evening a month ago, my sister calls me :

Sis: Hey, Divya actually believed your pony-buying story and is driving us crazy here.
Me : Well, that is not a story. We did buy a pony last week.

Sis: Hey don't bluff. Dont think you can fool me like you fooled Divya.
Me : What is there in this to fool you ? I had been thinking of a pet for Aman for a long
time and I thought a pony would be a good choice.

Sis: Come on. A horse costs a lot of money.
Me : Yes, race horses and top breeds do. But this is just a pony and no special breed.

Sis: Where did you buy it from ? I don't know of anyplace nearby that sells horses.
Me : From a stud farm at Kodukulanji, 15kms from our home. Cost 40K, but worth it.

Sis: Hey Biju, don't bluff ok. I don't believe this.
Me : If you cant believe, come over and check it out for yourself.

Sis: It won't be a horse. It must be a Kovar-Kazhuda (Mallu-speak for donkey).
Me : Donkeys are even cheaper. This is a horse.

Sis: Anyway, let me call up home and confirm for myself.

As she cuts the phone, I call up home. Mom takes the call. I tell her the whole story and
ask her to play along when my sis calls. As expected, my sis calls home immediately and
my Mom plays along to the pony story.

What I did not expect my sis to do was to call my wife to reconfirm, who being unaware
that I was playing a joke on my sister, promptly says that there is no pony or donkey here.

Anyway, after this incident, my sis is a little careful about believing what I say. So when
I called her from Serbia and told her that we saw a white crow here, it was natural for her
to think that I am again playing a prank on her.

But, I did see a white crow (atleast partially white) at Serbia and here are the snaps I took.




P.S. : A post after a long time - apart from lack of time, did not just get the mood to post.

Serbian Chronicles to continue...

Though I always make small reminder notes of the interesting stuff I come across in
places I visit eg. Serbia, I never came close to expanding them all to full-fledged posts.
Not because I did not want to, but because the last 3 weeks have been really hectic due
to work, travel etc.

Infact I drafted this post yesterday on the train to Kerala. And that was after putting
in 3-hours of work on the train - listing out tasks for the next 3 days that I'd be working
from home, going through & cleaning up pending emails, etc. After replacing the battery,
my laptop now lasts close to 4 hours and looks like I can use some of the time I spend on
the train weekly, in a productive manner.

While blogs are partly meant to cater to an audience, which is true of my blog too, most
of the impetus for my posting here comes from other reasons. Ofcourse I am honoured
that some of my friends and other random people consider it worthwhile to spend a few
minutes of their precious time checking out what I post.

But actually I write for myself. The blog exists for the same reason that I used to write
diaries in my childhood. To help take me years later to the life I was part of years ago.
Once in a while, I take out one of the diaries from the time I was in school or college &
reading the entries there brings back vivid memories of that time years ago. The only
difference is that while my blog is public, my diaries are not.

I came across a lot of interesting people in Serbia, different food and customs, cars,
buildings, hotels, awesome parks etc. If I don't jot them down somewhere, I am sure
to forget some of it atleast. So, a blog post on these would help save these thoughts for
years to come and in the lonely days of old age, maybe I can go check out all the old
posts and relive the experience.

Another reason to write this blog is for my family. Even though I talk to them daily,
I don't obviously have the time to tell them everything I want to about the places I
visit. A blog makes it easy for them to come read up and get updated. My sisters and
wife make it a point to check my blog atleast once a week (they dont have the time to
get on the net daily, like many of us here).

And ofcourse, I hope this blog will help my son know what life was like in his father's
time.

So, the Serbian chronicles will continue, though posts might be delayed due to work
taking up most of my time.

It's good to be back home.

Reached home around 1AM today. Managed to grab a few hours of sleep before getting
to work. Still feel kinda sleepy / groggy - nothing a few hours of sleep can't fix.
Chennai was mostly asleep as the taxi drove me home. Was nice to see empty streets,
instead of the usual maddening traffic. Feels good to be back home.

If you thought the Swift was ugly...

While the Swift is a very popular car in India and a hot seller for Maruti-Suzuki, there
is no doubt about the fact that it is overall an ugly car. My Dad has a Swift and when at
Kerala, I drive it and mostly like the car - though it is not a patch on my Baleno. But
that does not take its ulginess away.

But, if you thought a car could not get any uglier, you should have a look at the Renault
Megane. Looks like the car designers at Renault were given a very simple brief - take
the Swift as inspiration and come up with something even more uglier.

And that was how the Megane was born, oops, manufactured. Have a look at the snap
below - does it not look like a Swift that was hit on the roof with a battering ram, thereby
flattening it a bit and extending the rear, making it arguably the most butt-ugly car in the
world.


Ofcourse, the Serbs don't seem to be too bothered, given the number of Meganes you
can see on the roads. To each his/her own.

The car that put India on wheels is very much in Belgrade too.

Serbia is a dream come true for any car lover. Reason being that the variety of cars
seen here is unimaginable. You see a spanking new Merc S-class parked alongside a
decade-old Yugo or Lada. You have Japanese / European / American / Indian cars
and any other that you can imagine. And almost all the cars you have back home in
India, are available here -Spark, Optra, Accent, i10, Santro, Aveo, U-VA etc.

But nothing made me feel as glad as the sight of our very own M-800 on the streets of
Belgrade, complete with the "Maruti Suzuki" tag, which means that these are "Made in
India". Remember the Alisha Chinai video featuring Milind Soman that came a decade
or more ago, titled "Made in India" ?

Some M800s I spotted at Belgrade. The look like the M800 we have in India, but have
some must-have-here features like rear-demister, rear-wiper etc. I wonder if they come
with powersteering too here.

The M-800 has always been special for me. It not only put India on wheels, but that was
our first car, the first car I drove and the car with which there was such a special bond.
It was with us for 19 years without ever breaking down even once. And that car is why I
respect Japanese quality so much and why I would always buy only Japanese cars.

Cheers to the "Made in India" tag going places.

P.S. : I am doing a full-length thread on the Serbian car-scene on my car-forum and thus
won't really be repeating the stuff here, due to lack of time. If any of you want to know
more about what the car-scene in Belgrade and view snaps of cars available here, please checkout this linky.

PDA of a different kind.

While you will come across instances of PDA (Public Display of Affection) in most European
cities, Paris takes the cake and it is pretty normal to come across couples sharing loooong
hugs or kisses. Maybe it's something to do with the city itself - there is something romantic about Paris. We even came across a couple lost in their own world in a hug, under one of
the many bridges over the Siene river, while we were taking a boat tour of the river.

While Serbia is not out there, this city is not intolerant of PDA either. The University of
Belgrade is on the way we take to work and since the crowd is young, you come across
many instances of PDA.

While no one raises an eyebrow here about a couple sharing a passionate kiss in a place
as public as a road, what we saw one day did raise quite some eyebrows. No, there was
nothing lewd about it. Just that it was unusual - not something you would normally come
across. Have a look at the pic below.


We saw this couple at a pedestrian crossing. He was carrying her on his shoulders, like I
many-a-time carry my son. When the signal turned green for pedestrians, he crossed the
road and walked some 150 metres to his car. All the while, she was enjoying the ride and
the attention from everyone around.

We were taking in the spectacle wide-eyed & it took me time to regain my composure and
reach for my camera to snap this rare moment. By that time, he had walked away & thus
I ended up with this not-so-clear picture.

I sure was impressed by the guy's action. I mean, he surely is physically strong to carry
his girlfriend around on his shoulders. But it takes more than physical strength to do this
in a public place. His girlfriend must have been mighty impressed.

Getting colder by the day. And start missing home...

It was 6 deg C yesterday evening when we left for the hotel. As always, I had come
prepared for the winter - had a leather jacket and a sweater. But since one of my
colleagues had forgotten to pack any warm clothing, I gave him my jacket, while I
decided to manage with the sweater.

It was not a big gesture or anything. Just returning a favour that I have received
from others many times over. I have landed in Atlanta without a jacket or even a
sweater assuming that I would be returning home before winter starts. But as luck
would have it, I had to postpone my return and it was only helpful friends who came
to my help then. This was just a small payback from my side.

Anyway, winter seems to be setting in slowly, but steadily. Today it was 4 deg C, which
is quite cold. As we walked to the hotel in the evening, I could feel my hands go numb.
You see the locals walk around bundled in jackets and feel grateful that you don't have
to endure this on a yearly basis.

It's a week now that I have been here. Some places are now quite familiar. There are
people at work, at the hotel, at the restaurants we frequent, who are familiar. But still
you miss people back home. For close to 2 years, I have been seeing my son almost
every weekend and this is one weekend when I could not see him. I talk to my wife
over the phone daily, but still I miss the closeness of sitting across her & talking to her.

And last but not the least, I miss my car. By the time I return to Chennai, it would be
close to a month since I parked her securely at my friend's office. She is all covered up
from the Chennai dust & occasional rains, but then a car is not meant to be covered up.
As I watch the Audis and Skodas race by, the only thought that comes to mind is to
get back home next week and take her out for a drive. A long drive.

Serbia is great, the people are good, food is not bad, night life is excellent, the women
are the most beautiful on earth. But still there is no place like home.

It's a small world. No doubt about that.

Even before I came to Belgrade, I have been communicating over phone and email with a
few engineers working for our client here. Milan was one of them, a helpful guy who would respond promptly to any queries I had about their system.

His name intrigued me because not only is Milan a common name/word back home (one of
my nephews is named Milan and in Hindi, this word would mean "merger" or "union"), but
his last name Shreshta was also Indian-ish. I assumed this to be pure coincidence and did
not give it another thought.

After we landed here, we would come across Milan almost everyday since he also worked
at the same office. Yesterday evening, we were chatting after work when I told him that
both his first & last name sound very Indian. Imagine my surprise when he says that this
is because his father is from Nepal, and Mom is Serbian. He looks like any Serbian guy and
it would be tough to detect his Asian connection from his looks.

It surely is a small world. We have travelled many thousand miles from home only to run
into someone whose roots (atleast partially) lie just across the border of our country.

It's raining in Belgrade.

We left work late (around 8PM) and I had my sweater slung around my neck. The security
guard was aghast and went, "It is freezing outside. You need to wear the sweater, not sling
it around your neck."

While I would have liked to ignore the advice and move on, I decided to heed his words and
wore the sweater, which was good because by the time we walked the 2 kms to the hotel, it
was getting cold.

We picked up some food on the way - shawarma, pizza slices and broccoli-bajji and settled
down in front of the TV. A colleague had come down from Chennai today and while he was
sharing his travel experience, I decided to walk down to the reception.

It was raining outside and coupled with the cold wind, this meant that no one was on the
streets. There still were trams and buses plying and ofcourse people zipping around in
their cars, but there was no one on the streets.

It felt nice to watch the rain. Very different from the heavy rains in Kerala, but still it
always feels nice to watch the rains. All I missed was a hot cup of tea and a nice book
to read.

Where did these cuties vanish to ?

When was the last time you saw a sparrow at Chennai ? I really don't remember seeing
one for a long time. The only memory I have about sparrows is from my childhood, when
we were staying at Ahmedabad (GJ) and there used to be sparrows that built nests in the parapet, laid eggs and raised their young.

I am not sure why these birds vanished from our cities - maybe the pollution or rampant
use of pesticides. There is a theory that says cellphone towers drive away these birds. But
my colleague says that in HongKong, they use cellphones a lot, yet there still are sparrows
there. So that might not be a reason.

I clicked these sparrows at a park in Belgrade.

They have many parks here and it adds character to the city. Cellphone use is rampant

here too, but if the sparrows still are here, then that doesn't look like a reason for their

vanishing from Indian cities.

Also spotted was this pigeon, strutting around. One of the most favourite birds of my son.

With Chennai sprucing up all the parks in the city and cleaning up the Cooum, I won't be surprised if we see a return of these avian residents.

Slowly winter sets in. We could do without the rains though.

11-Oct-2009, Sunday :
It has been warm here from the time I landed at Belgrade. Which was, to be frank, quite
a disappointment, because I was hoping for a break from the warm weather back home.
To add to our woes, our customer's office being spacious enough just for their employees,
we were given a work-area which was a little low on ventilation and air-conditioning.

We had been cribbing all of last week about the weather and I guess as an answer to our
prayers, it started getting a bit cold yesterday evening. We left from work for the hotel
at around 7PM and we could feel the chill air. Today (Sunday) morning when we went
down for coffee at 8AM, it was quite cold, which was accentuated by the wind.

We had planned to take a conducted city tour, but the pretty girls at the hotel reception
told us that the travel agency did not have tours on Sundays. Anyway, we being not easily
deterred, we decide to explore the city on our own. One of us had a map and we took off
on foot. The destination was supposed to be the banks of the river Danube. Yeah, I am
sure most of you remember it from your Geography lessons in school - I do.

We walk some 3 kms and reach a touristy kind of place. Sort of like those big squares in
Belgium. There are open-air restaurants all around, big buildings, statues etc - basically
stuff that tourists love to photograph. After 4 days at Belgrade, this was the first time I
saw women who were flabby / out-of-shape, and I was seriously worried that this was
going to prove my theory of all Serbian women being flawless wrong. But not to worry,
these women were foreigners - mostly American tourists.

We decide to rest our tired legs and grab something to eat. By the time we had some
food, it started drizzling and down the drain went our plan to hit the river. What fun
would it be to get to the river all soaking wet ? And anyway who would be at the river
in such weather. Being tired, we hail a taxi and get back to the heated environs of our
hotel.

Size zero ? What's the big deal about that ?

Kareena Kapoor helped add a new term to the Indian vocabulary - size zero. Apart from
her effort, her dietician and trainer contributed immensely to help her attain "size zero",
which effectively means that she was stick-thin. Infact her boyfriend Saif said he felt he
was dating a coat-hanger, when she was in the size-zero phase.

While it did seem like a big deal to me till a few days ago, once here in Belgrade, it became
clear that unlike in India, size zero is more of a norm here. Women here are not only very
pretty (much prettier than the women in Belgium/France), but almost 99% of them have
a figure that is hour-glass like. I have no idea whether it is genetic or because they take
care of their diet and workout a lot.

And it is not just the young girls who have an awesome figure. Even middle-aged women
and elderly women are in great shape. Infact I have seen women who must be easily in
their early sixties, who still retain the figure of a young girl.

So much for all the hype about size-zero in India.

Nikola Tesla airport and a city almost like Chennai.

7-Oct-2009, 1:30AM Serbian time :

Reached the hotel an hour ago. Ours was probably the last flight into the Nikola Tesla
airport, which I presume is the major (and only) airport of Serbia. The airport was
practically empty when we walked out after collecting our baggage. A quick google
search revealed to me that Nikola Tesla was one of the big scientists of Serbia.

The first thing we did was to change some USD into the local currency, which is the
Royal Serbian Dinar. At an exchange rate of 1$ = 62.5 RSD, it is a pretty weak
currency, weaker than the Indian Rupee, but not as much as the Japanese Yen.

Anyway, a helpful lady at the Alpha Bank helps us convert some of our dollars into
RSD and we go find ourselves a taxi to take us to the hotel. Like auto-rickshaw guys
in Chennai solicit customers at airports / railway stations, a taxi driver approaches
us. I am wary, but there are no other taxis around and we ask him to drop us.

I see that it is a pretty new Mercedes Benz C-class station wagon. Its been a long
time since I was in a Merc-taxi and it feels good. The guy zooms out of the airport
and the car rapidly picks up speed. The road is kinda like at Chennai, a little bumpy
at times, but more or less motorable. I have a feeling that the guy is doing some
serious speeds, but when I lean over and look at the speedo, I am shocked to see
that he is doing a cool 165kmph.

Only once in my life, I have done that speed - on the awesome Coimbatore byepass
built by L&T and it did not just feel safe in my Baleno. But in the Benz, I hardly felt
the speed. As he drives along, he points out important places to us - the bridge over
the river Sava, an Arena (stadium), the main street of Belgrade, a famous beer-bar
near our hotel etc. Along the way, I can see apartments like back home.

This city does not seem to have fully recovered from the ravages of war and there
is lots to be done before it can be like any other European city. But I am sure the
government must be doing what is needed and it is just a matter of time before
the face of this city also changes.

He drops us at the hotel, wishes us a pleasant stay in his country & tells us that "we are
his guests first and only then his customers". I am damn impressed. The first impression
of this city is definitely good.

There are definitely quite some cons to my job (like with any other job), but I gotta give
it credit for one thing - helping me see the world, without spending a dime of my own. To
be frank, when I was young, I never imagined that one day, I would be getting to visit the
USA or Japan or Serbia or Belgium. I sure am glad I opted for a job in the s/w industry.

Aman is 2 years old. Time flies.

It seems as if it was just yesterday that Aman was born, and he is already 2 years old.
We started off the day by going to church and attending the morning mass at 7:30AM
& after mass was over, we distributed candies to those that were at church.

Aman posing in front of the church in the birthday dress - a gift from his maternal
grandma.


Then we dropped in at the homes of Aman's buddies - Christo and Johaan. We then went
out for breakfast and on the way back dropped in at the homes of some close relatives.

The birthday cake was only due at noon and so we had the cake-cutting in the evening,
which was a family affair - just the 3 of us and my parents. Both my sisters could not
make it due to other commitments.

Aman at the cake-shop waiting to collect his cake.




The cake and musical-candle.


Aman riding his new bicycle - a gift from his maternal grandpa.

Happy Birthday, Aman.

The big dilemna - to shave or pluck or let be.

In today's TOI (actually yesterday's, since it is 12:30AM as I blog this), I came across
this interesting article titled "Fashion's victims", which is about women's eyebrows.
The article starts off like this :

The West's great fashion dilemna at the moment can be summed up thus : to shave
or not to shave. But this is not about male stubble or hairy female legs. It is about
women's eyebrows, and the question is, should they ever be completely removed?

OK, the article goes on to talk about famous women of ages ago who shaved off their
eyebrows because it was fashionable then & because men of that age liked it that way.
I am too lazy to type it all here - go check out the paper if you want to really read it -
it is on the bottom-left side of Page-12, just below the editorial columns.

I found the article interesting because I have known women who thought that having
well-kept eyebrows either makes them look more beautiful or it looks good or that it
makes them noticeable to men.

My first tryst with a woman's eyebrow-fixation was in 1995. I was working then in
a small organisation which was lucky to have a decent %age of good looking women.
Anita was one of them and while she fared average on facial looks/features, she had
a figure that women would kill for. And she knew that the guys in the office noticed it.

It started of as any other day, with me being at work around 9AM. I was the first to
reach work that day & since I had a key on me, I did not have to wait for anyone to
open the office for me.

I am going through the work for the day when the door opens and in saunters Anita.
Did I already mention that she had a killer figure and that she knew about it ? Well,
she did and she also knows that no other dress accentuates a woman's figure like a
saree. And guess what, she was wearing a saree that day also.

After wishing me a smiley Good Morning, she does the normal women routine of a
quick restroom visit (a quick make-up check?), she comes over and sits bang opposite
me. As I go over the day's mail, she feels kinda ignored and clears her throat.

Hey B, look over here.
Yes.

Look at me. // I am now looking at her face, feeling uncomfortable.
Yes.

What is different about me today ?
Huh ?

Tell me what is different about me ?
Hmm. Hmmm...

Can't you see anything different about me ?

I have no idea what is different about her face. Looks the same like yesterday. But I
suddenly remember the poster we had stuck on our hostel wall in college, "Hell hath
no fury like a woman scorned" and I know that time is limited and I need to answer
her before she goes ballistic.

I think hard and the only thing I can think of is that her bindi is different.

No. This is the bindi I always wear. Can't you be a little more creative ?

I am cornered and like a gnu in the African savannah staring into a lion's face, I am
considering my options. Not that I have many options.

Her face is polished clean, like always and I don't see anything there that wasn't there
the day before. I admit defeat.

She is both elated and depressed by my admitting defeat. And then goes on to break
the suspense.

I had my eyebrows trimmed. What a dumbo ? You could not even notice this ?

Ha! That was the first time I knew that women trimmed eyebrows. Which is not really
surprising given that my girlfriends never indulged in this fashion exercise. Thank God.

Anyway that was my first brow encounter.

Later on in life, many years later, I came across another friend who regularly spent a
fortune trimming or shaving eyebrows. I still did not notice the difference until I was
told about it. And even when told, I thought to myself, "What a waste of good money ?
The eyebrows looked good as-is, instead of being shaven to look so artificial".

But then, women think differently. They think having a shaven eyebrow makes them
prettier. I did not have the heart to tell her that she looked better as she was normally.
Infact a shaved eyebrow reminds me of the funny thin-pencilled moustaches sported
by some men in their 60s - I guess in their time, this was considered fashion & movie
stars also sported this.

I can't speak for all men, but given a choice, I would anyday opt for some genuinity &
character in a women rather than a shaven eyebrow.

The most dangerous driving hazard on Chennai roads.

I was talking with a friend the other day over crappy machine-coffee, and the topic veers
to the rapidly deteriorating roads in Chennai, the dare-devil bikers who seem to be riding
with only one aim - to come under the wheels of cars, poor lighting on roads etc.

While he agreed that these were indeed a pain in the rear, according to him none of these
were serious hazards and asks me if I know what is the biggest driving hazard on Chennai roads ?

I make a few guesses - the cows & buffaloes that roam/snooze on the roads, jay-walkers
who jump in front of speeding cars when you least expect them to, the speed-humps that
pop up overnight catching you by surprise, etc - but according to him, none of these qualify
as the biggest hazard.

I give up and ask him to enlighten me. Imagine my surprise when he says that the most dangerous hazard on Chennai roads is "low-cut jeans". Seeing my blank look, he clarifies,
"Have you ever driven behind a bike that has a PYT on the pillion wearing a dangerously
low-cut jeans coupled with a short top and tried concentrating on the road ?"

Well, once I did come across this, but that was when my car was stationary at a traffic
light and so I did not really need to concentrate on the road. He signs off by saying,
"Well let me know how you fare when you are driving. I don't know about you, but I
almost crashed into the median the other day."

Well, you learn something new everyday. :-)

The times, they are a changing. I am not complaining though.

Two related incidents that happened in the space of a week convinced me that I really
need to blog this. This is going to be a long one.

The first incident happened last Sunday around 1PM. I was at my friend's shop (which is
just opposite my apartment) to fetch some ice-cream for my son. I pay for the ice-cream
and am talking with my friend, when 2 girls in their late-teens walk in to get a pre-paid
mobile connection. While my friend's Dad started the shop as an STD/ISD/PCO booth
some 20 years ago, he diversified into ice-creams, mobile connections etc.

Out of normal curiousity, I look at the girls, but they are not familiar - maybe new to
the neighbourhood. While one of them is dressed in a salwar-kameez, the other one
is in a pair of tight jeans and an equally tight-fitting tops. As I start to look away, the
jean-clad girl looks at me. I meet her stare briefly and look away.

While my friend attends to them, I wait for them to leave so that we can continue the conversation from where we left it. Getting a prepaid connection now requires proper documentation including a filled-in form, photograph of the user, ID/address proof etc.
The jean 'n top girl has all of this ready and she hands it over. As my friend goes over
the documentation, she turns sideways and looks at me again.

I start wondering whether it is just a casual look or whether she knows me. I rack my
brains, but cannot place her face and so dismiss it as a casual stare. Satisfied with the documentation, my friend hands her a SIM card. She takes out cash from her handbag
and hands it over to him. As she waits for the change, she again turns to me sideways
and this time her stare lingers on me for more than a few seconds.

I am not sure what to make out of it. I mean, she must be just about half my age, though
she can't be blamed because I don't really look my age. But no credit to me for that - it is
mostly genetics & good luck. I am not sure if I should feel flattered that a girl in her teens
checks me out or feel bad that I also returned the stare of a kid. Anyway, the ice-creams
are melting in the hot Chennai weather & so I tell my friend that I will catch up with him
later and walk out of his shop.

As I exit the shop, I turn back only to find myself staring into her face - she had turned
around at the same time. I walk home thinking about the strange similarity this incident
had to another one that happened a week ago around 9:30PM when I was signing-off
from work.

Since it is just 3 floors to the basement car park, I usually avoid the elevator and hit the
stairs. Walking down the stairs in front of me are 3 girls, employees of the call-centre
located on the floor above my office. Like most call-centres, this one also works 24/7 in
shifts & they are walking down to the basement cafetaria. Like a typical girl-group, they
are chatting loudly, with the occasional we-have-no-idea-why-we-are-giggling girlie
giggle thrown in.

I would like to walk past them because I know that it is going to take them an eternity
to reach the basement. The staircase is wide enough, but since they are walking abreast,
I don't have space to squeeze through. I decide to take it slow & follow them down.

As they cross the first landing & step onto the next set of stairs, I am still on the previous
set of stairs & just approaching the landing. At this point, we can see each other if we look
to our side. They are still talking among themselves & giggling, but in between that, I see
the 3 of them turn sideways and look up at me. I dismiss this as just a normal behaviour -
a curiousity to know who is nearby.

But just few seconds after they had looked at me & turned away, one of the girls looks back
again at me. This isn't normal, unless we know each other, which we don't. I still don't think
of this as a big deal and continue walking. She turns away on seeing me return the gaze.

As they traverse the next landing & we come again in a similar position, I see her looking
up again at me. I have never been shy of looking at women & so meet her stare. She looks
away, but in a few seconds, she looks back again, only to look away again on my returning
her stare.

It seems to me sort of like how guys size-up girls, if you know what I mean. If a girl walks
past a group of guys, you can see most of the guys look at her and size her up - mentally
doing a "How does she rate on a scale of 1 to 10" ? In India, most girls in such situations,
would walk past demurely without returning the stare. But if a girl did return the stare,
most of the guys would hurriedly look away.

It is sort of a reverse scenario here, with me being sized up by the girl. Ofcourse I don't
have a problem at all if a girl ogles me. Though it would really worry me if a guy ogles me.
We reach the basement and they turn into the cafe, while I get my car and drive off.

As I drive home, I think about how things have changed over the years. When younger,
I remember ogling girls & almost 99% of them (except maybe some tom-boyish creature)
would make sure not to make eye-contact. I also remember ogling girls many years ago
while riding my bike, with the helmet ensuring that while I can see others, they cannot
make out whom I am looking at. You could ride by looking at any girl passing by & the
girls would just walk with either their head bowed or looking straight ahead to avoid
eye-contact.

Or you could be driving a car and ogling a Pretty Young Thing on the road, but as far as
they were concerned, you might have as well not existed, with their gaze straight ahead
or down.

But off late, I remember so many instances where I am riding my bike and I see girls
coming in the opposite direction (walking/biking/driving) strain to look through the
helmet. And when you are in the car, they just stare/ogle you as you pass by.

As these 2 incidents show, the Indian girl/woman of today not only has no qualms about
returning a male stare, but she is actually initiating the checking-out process. I have no complaints though about this metamorphosis because in these stressed times, it surely
feels good to know that you are still checkout-worthy even in your late-thirties. :-)