Wednesday, March 25, 2009

The Glass Palace

I read the Glass Palace by Amitav Ghosh.
A vast novel, big, weighty and with a lot of people and time packed into 500 pages of text. Though I read it in 2 days flat which says a lot about the flow and ease of writing, I did come away with a bit of queasiness in the stomach. Like a promise that was not quite kept.
I think I have now read about all of Amitav Ghosh's fiction and nothing has excited me as much as the Calcutta Chromosome. The second best would undoubtedly be the Sea of poppies.
I wish he would hurry up and get through with his sequel.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

2 stripes

yesterday was the day when the one probable stripe became 2 definite stripes. Does that mean something?
Of course it does. It means that i am ok and it was money well spent all these years.

Friday, March 20, 2009

So Much Anger


I am the only brother in 7 siblings. I am unique, the only one. I have had good times and bad times, more bad than good. And I have so much anger within me. Anger at so many people who have done me wrong. My relatives, for instance. My uncles who have been worse than enemies might be. I am angry at them and I never want to see them. And that is my only condition for happiness and peace. My sister is getting engaged, she is happy, everyone is happy. But I dont want my uncles to be there. The elders in my family decide to call them for the sake of appearances, social niceties. I am not told of it, or if I am, I hope I wont have to see them. I really dont remember and as I said, I just have too much anger and there was a buzzing in my ears as I heard their names being mentioned.
At the party, I see one of my uncles, he too has apparently come there for the sake of appearances, social niceties. And I get really angry. I mean how dare he be there when I was sure I never wanted to see them. But here they are, and I need to take revenge. I have so much anger. I need to make them sorry, all of them. The uncle who decided to come, the elders in my family who thought it might not be such a bad idea, and everyone else who does not think the way I do. I have to do something to make them remember for all times, and finally cement the antagonism with anger, sorrow and guilt. I tell one of my relatives that I cant bear this anymore and I have to go. I dont think he notices very much, he is having a good time.
I go home and take this medicine, shortly afterwards, through a haze I am taken somewhere and suddenly, in a matter of minutes, the discomfort is over.
My sister is in a hospital, she has not eaten in a couple of days and she wont speak. She is being looked at by a big, disinterested doctor who has probably seen this before. Nothing much to worry about, he opines, and I agree.She will be fine soon.
My anger is a little less now.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

Phool



Originally uploaded by cicadas17
....in the rose garden

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Truer words were never spoken


fart one time.jpg
Originally uploaded by brcspd
................or written. With or without the dog for help.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Google in the future


Google in the future
Originally uploaded by souravdas
something interesting I found on the net

Saturday, January 03, 2009

The Burnt Bus


The Burnt Bus
Originally uploaded by Shubh M Singh
Yesterday I saw the bus burn as I was stuck in the Traffic Jam after being torched by some people at Mubarikpur for having run over a man. Today morning it was cold and foggy, and people were standing there waiting for their transports to arrive and take them to their work. A few loitered around trying to have a bit of disaster tourism. Life goes on, it is only those who lose who feel the loss. The people who burn buses do not.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

Happy New Ear



I wish I could have said that to Vincent Van Gogh.
But Anyways, happy New Ear, and If you have a problem, you may contact Sushruta, the father of Indian surgery who fashioned new ears for everyone who did and did not need one.
I rang in my new ear in bed, under a quilt, with a steel tumbler with approx 60 ml of Johnnie Walker in one hand and Amitav Ghosh's Sea of Poppies in the other. Right enough, I was fast asleep before I could feel the warmth of the booze fade away.

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

The Last Post




I have mentioned some place before that the last post is played at the end of the day when a homage is paid to colleagues who have dies in battle or long back when battles were fought during the day time, it signaled the end of the business for the day.
Therefore, this is the last post for the day and the year, 2008. Is it a homage for those who died?
Well none died this year for a pleasant change or is it the end of business for the year...well, yes but there is not much of a choice in there, is there.
So, this is a last post and it requires a suitable somber theme.
I asked my wife regarding some suitable themes and she charactersitically came up with the following:
1. lack of tharak
2. oedipus complex
3. woolen socks
4. being called a nikamma
5. eating burnt rotis
6. pressure cooker whistles
7. madagascar

As we used to answer in the final MD papers, we will now discuss these points in some detail. That is because they are topical and relevant, and are quite somber (lack of tharak has to be somber, right!!)
1. lack of tharak:
Tharak or roughly translated as libido is the nature of one human being to be aroused in ways that are hopefully sexual though not necessarily procreative towards another member of the animal, plant or inanimate kingdom. It helps if the libidinal object is of the same species and of opposite sex but this is not always the case. By corollary, lack of tharak comes about where there is an absence of such a feeling because of variety of reasons that can range from overdosage of pro-getstaional hormones to simply a kick on the butt. Mostly, lack of tharak (LOT) is associated with significant psycho-social distress but at times and in certain people such as serial sex offenders, this may be an adaptive and life-preserving advantage. Why my wife talked about LOT, I really dont know, I will have to ask and find out. If it is of some nature that is conducive to public consumption, I will let you all know. Otherwise, the details will go with me to the bottom of the nearest active volcano where I am sure to be interred.
2. Oedipus Complex:
It is a fancy name for the neighbouring kid trying to hang out with his mama more than his daddy does. It really means that there was this king somewhere in Greece who got killed by his son in a case of mistaken identity or was it something else, anyway, there was incest involved which makes it hugely interesting. Google and thou shall find....I always say, or was that an old jungle saying from the Phantom comics?
Why did my wife talk about it...no ideas again. I will have to ask and find out. If it is of some nature that is conducive to public consumption, I will let you all know. Otherwise, the details will go with me to the bottom of the nearest active volcano where I am sure to be interred.
3. Woolen Socks:
Now this one easy, its bloody cold and I feel a frost bite coming on. So I need some woolen socks, but why does my wife talk about it? Holey moley......maybe she actually cares for me or does she intend to put that ultra-poisonous scorpion she got to some good use??
If I survive, i will let you know some more details.
4. Being called a nikamma and eating burnt rotis
We will discuss both of these together because they are so 'intimately' related' (bloody dirty mind..where did that progesterone shot go now?). Anyways, I am called a nikamma because that is what i am, a nikamma. Now nikamma is a fine word, made up of ni+kamm+a. Ni stands for no, kamm means for sex..oops no work (bloody dirty mind..where did that progesterone shot go now?). Kam means work, fine I got that work. And the a makes it kind of easy on the tongue (dirty thoughts again, maybe I need high-dose flouxetine), so you can like a good punjabi say Nikamma...and feel good about it. Since my wife is not Punjabi, she is finding it hard to get her tongue around it (sorry already) the right way (again, again), so she kind of writes it often just to parctice. eating burnt rotis is fine because that is what nikammas eat. Since there is a lack of moral fiber in such people, burnt rotis provide that fiber so that they are not chronically constipated. And I am not, haha.
5. pressure cooker whistles:
I once made a wolf whistle and got beaten, thereafter I decided that pressure cooker whistles would have to do. It is quite alright because I need to carry a gas cylinder with me all the time, and when I see some nice girl, by the time I can light a fire and get the cooker to have enough steam, that lady is already away. SO i am saved. I need one because the FBI tells me that one has been stolen by Palo Aunty, the maid.
6. Madagascar:
Hmmmm, I really dont know.......Well, I have probably written enough to get some passing marks. So Madagascacar....Isnt that a car made by a mad man, runs on gas produced by fermentation of intestinal roughage. That should do well in Punjab.

Monday, December 29, 2008

3 Wrecks


The third one tripped the shutter
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