Light Hearted Humor

What did a light bulb say to incoming electric current?
"Let me shed some light on the matter of Darkness"

---
Darkness said to the Sun "Well, what'd you know of darkness?"
The Sun replied "I know all your dark secrets. I keep watch when you are not around."

---
It's strange that fireflies shine only in darkness.

---

What did the match-stick receive when it took the box head-on?
"Enlightenment"

Serenity

One of the best photos I have ever clicked.

Walk in the Park

Parking (and of course, un-parking) is an Art one must master if one desires to survive in Bangalore. And I think I received my diploma in that discipline last evening!

Ironically, the Test was outside of the Chinnaswamy stadium where Champions League T20 match was about to be played. Ridiculously overconfident, I thought there would be few takers for this tournament-opener, and Parking my bike at the venue would be a walk in the Park. Alas, it was not to be. Or rather, I was to pick the most difficult-to-park area of the field.

By the time we reached there, there must have been almost five hundred bikes parked all over the place in most creative configurations. Latest rains had given rise to weed (both with and without thorns) posing additional challenges ( in other words, bonus points were up for grabs). There was no entrance to the parking lot. All I could see was people rushing to somehow get their bikes first on the sidewalk (involved 8 inches of steep step) and then up a small climb of about one meter into the parking lot. And then somehow hope to find some place for the bike to rest before it was taken through another ordeal of coming out of the lot.

I wish I had a bike that turned into a bicycle whenever I wished. To lift 110Kg bike with ten gentlemen trying to hurry you is not easy. Worse so, when you are anxious to get into the stadium. I tried using the powerful engine's thrust to get over the step. It wouldn't work. Then I tried to get hold of the knee guard and lift the bike over the step. It couldn't work: for it was against first principles of physics. Lastly, I got down from the bike, somehow held the bike handle and one side of the knee guard and hoped it would move quickly over the edge. Miracle or whatever, this worked. But I had no time to rest and enjoy this small success. The next challenge was to get the rear wheel over. This was no-brainer, as I had done this maneuver many times before. Climbing back on the seat, I simply pulled the bike through!

Well begun is half done, they say. It's only half-true. After pushing along for a few feet, I was already surrendering to the thought that I had made a big mistake in riding to the stadium on bike. It seemed like everyone (including the players and their agents) in the stadium had ridden on their bike to the match. I could sense an expression of hard fought victory on the faces of those who had (somehow) parked their bikes and were coming out. 'Don't go any further, there is no place' was a continuous advice I was subject to.

I could not go back a loser. (Especially since my wife was watching me.)

I decided to press on. Invoked the God of Bikes and somehow, only somehow grabbed a tiny gap between two scooters. Without respecting the thorns or broken twigs of a nondescript ivy (whatever!) I got down, locked the bike and shouted, "I am done!"

---

All through the game (which the Cobra's won in the end) my mind was kept under certain uncomfortable effect induced when you think your possession is not safe. Two overs before the game ended, we decided to get out and see if we would have any luck in getting the bike out of the jungle.

I was prepared to stay on till first Sun rays were out.

Luck, however, had different plans. Or rather, I had strong will (which explained the Way). I couldn't believe my eyes that there was a one-foot opening that could take me all the way to the exit.

Joy filled the air. All of a sudden, music started in full blast. There were fireworks in the sky, and people cheered (which only later I found out, was not for me, but for the fifth wicket RCB managed to take!).

Whatever!

I had passed the Parking Test with flying colors. Critics may boo 'what about un-Parking?' But I think I won't take that test anytime till the next year!

Hello, Rajesh?

My wife got irritated with this caller who'd address her as certain 'Rajesh'.

The telephone service provider had recycled his long lost connection with this number and happily assigned to my wife. Now this creature of gentlemanly qualities did not bother to inform his well-wishers that he did not own the number any more (well, nobody can 'own' a number, but what the heck!). So, his well-wishers started wishing my wife every now and then.

She, overwhelmed with so many uncalled for good wishes, got very upset and threatened me that she'll stop cooking for good. Now, how could I let that happen!

I decided to pick this well-wisher's call and politely replied, "it's a wrong number, please don't call again." After ten minutes, the phone rang again showing the same caller-id as before.

This time, I added, "please contact Rajesh and ask for his number" (How foolish! But thankfully the other side didn't understand the irony).

"No sir, this is Rajesh's number--I am sure!" came reply from the noisy line.

Now, how do I convince him?!

"Ok sir. Tell me who's calling!"

To my surprise, he stated his name and place where he was calling from.

"Now, tell me sir, what is it?"

"Rajesh?" -- as if he couldn't believe it was Rajesh.

"Yes. Mein Rajesh hi huun"

"Nahin sir, aap Rajesh nahin hein" -- "No sir, you can't be Rajesh"

Bang on! Finally, I was able to convince him that I was not Rajesh, and this number didn't belong to Rajesh.

Before I could express my joy, he had decided to call it quits.

Since then (at least till now) she hasn't had any more well-wishers calling her Rajesh. And I have been enjoying good meals!

Are they same?

"Well, you tell me," was my exasperated reply to the annoying call-center lady. But first, let me go over some history here.

As usual it's three O'clock in the afternoon, when I get this call on my landline (deja vu?)

"Sir, I am calling from xyz bank. You have applied for a credit card, eees eeet[sic]?"

"Yes, I have."

"Yeah, OK. This is a confirmation call."

"Well, I got three confirmation calls already, how many times are you going to call me?" I confirm I am annoyed.

"hehe. Sir this is the first time I am calling you!" I get a dip of the intelligence of this alien object.

"Yeah. But---" Signs of give-up are showing.

"Ok. What's your birthdate?" Here you go!

I tell her my birthdate, taking care not to make any mistake.

"Oh. eees eeet?" What do you mean by "oh is it?" but it's a muted moot question that never sees the light of this particular day.

"You're a salaried professional, eees eeet?"

"Yes. I am salaried at any rate"

"What is your residential address?"

"What is your permanent address?"

"What is your office address?"

I address all of the above questions in a professional manner.

A few seconds pass.

"Sir, your office address and residential addresses are different!!!!!!"

"Of course, what do you mean???"

She is amused by my counter-question, and laughs her heart out.

For the next few questions, I can hear a slight laughing undertone in her voice, which irritates me more (I should be proud of the victory, but no.)

At the end of it, she says, "Thank you sir. I'll call you if I need more information".

"Eees eeet?" is what I want to ask, but I give out a feeble smile, and say "Yeah. Anytime!"

Come What April (as against Come What May)

If April showers

should come your way 

They bring the flowers

That bloom in May

-- Buddy DeSylva, the songwriter.

This little song pretty much sums up the Bangalore weather of late. Not that the rains are very much welcome, especially if that causes cancellation after cancellation of our daily diet of Football in the evening. And after last Friday's road-block (reasons of which will remain unknownto mankind forever), which comprised of a mental procedure called torture inflicted by one hour of forced  seat-warming in a bus which carried a large population mosquitoes for a company; I am not sure I'd appreciate any more evening showers. 

No sir. Not in the evenings at any rate!

Failure

There I was, dreaming, hoping
that I may be able to find
A befitting poetry, that described
Your beauty, oh you, O charming.

Hopeless, though, I eventually realized
Wasn't it to even imagine?
Words suchlike were ever carved
Ah, a grand debacle of greatest of the bard!

There I was, again, celebrating,
The Failure of Words: so heartening!
For I was the victor, who caused this fall,
I said nothing, but didn't I say it all?

Three Liners

The Sun's setting on the beach
A fish keeps jumping out of water
Trying to keep The Ball afloat!
---

Ferocious attack: a tiger, a deer;
suddenly everything turns quiet,
Tiny pug-marks fade in time.
---

Handsome little tree:
Sparkling with bright yellow flowers,
Memories of your dress!
---

Calm, quiet night.
The candle gives company,
to darkness and whispers.
---

Writer's Block

Agreeably, the activity on this particular blog has been very quiet for more than a month now. And it has taken a good friend's nagging scrap for me to make some move. Intertia, was more of the reason than lack of ideas. Yet, it's no wonder that the first Law Newton came up with was to explain Intertia: An object tends to be in its present state unless a force opposing that state is applied! I guess in my particular case, my friend's pushing force was enough :)

But a deeper and philosophically engrossing question remains yet. And that is, what to write (far less philosophical than why to write). It's quite likely that this very question kept me away from this world of letters for a while.

I thought, well let me write down n number of excuses for not taking the time out to write! How's that for irony?!

(1) There are many distractions:- These distractions can include absence of electrical energy at our energy starved houses, especially when in the spur of that (dark) moment you have summed up a fantastic sentence, which can't see the light of the day in this Internet-age. Another example of distraction is that of nagging salesmen (and saleswomen, more importantly) or those cycle-peddling old-newspaper buyers, who, on many a quiet afternoon, wake me out of pleasant dreams, robbing the world of magnificent works of fiction. On the brigher side of matters, never-ending sequence of telemarketing calls on my cell-phone seems to have finally ended.

(2) Happenings in this material world are better left undocumented: Be it the matter of shoe-throwing competitions being held around the world or banks making telephone calls to customers asking to lend money at low interests, I guess many things are better done than said. So, why take trouble on commenting on these!

(3) Lack of quality topics to blabber on: The very fact that I am seeing the light of a day on which I have to write about why I don't write is indicative of how fast the world of thought is shrinking. Take a cue from the global slowdown, I guess it's hitting the slow world of thought very hard, as well. Only the other 'quality' topic other than this I had was: "Oh, how I hate to shave!". Thin-n-light, evergreen topic of "Bangalore Traffic Situation" reached me last, as expected!

(4) Enough is Enough: When it rains, it pours, they observe. I had accumulated a feeling of, "I have written enough." I guess, I needed some time to drain out that feeling, before I started on accumulating again. (on a side note, the truth is: Enough Is Never Enough, ref-- "There is enough in this world for everybody's need, but not enough for everybody's greed," ---MKG). 

(5) Many unknown reasons: (on account of being unknown, I won't be able to elaborate those, pardon me!)

Ring in the New

Bye Bye 2008.

And welcome to 2009 (year of Ox, the chinese say). Whatever. May the year belong to healthy Bulls on share market streets all over the world :)

Wishing you all a very Happy New Year!

Sound-Horn-OK?

Roads, in many ways, are reflection of the society they serve. And I don't mean only the conditions of underlying (sic) roads, but the manner in which the society uses them. Let me take this line of thought forward and provide a few interesting points to support it.

- In India, roads are, more as a rule than exception, dotted with potholes: of various sizes starting from small cracks to big ones that can house a camel (yes, that happend in Pune once). Doesn't this remind you of the constant struggle of our society? Every pothole, to me, is an obstruction, a challenge to existence. The vehicles seem to overcome each of those as they come.

- In India, there are a very few people who follow lane discipline (if there exists something like that). People do not respect the traffic policeman or policewoman who's giving everything to the cause of creating some pattern out of the chaos. To me, it's a symbol of the government, which at multiple times is seen to be helpless, sometimes not following the law that itself made for its citizens. From people's perspective, it shows the apathy towards governance, apathy towards discipline, and uncontrollable anxiety to reach destinations at any cost. Collectively, how good is this attitude for the society? Who cares!

- The habit of honking shows lack of patience. It sounds like crime when one takes a fraction of a second extra to realize that the signal has turned green for him to pass. Others, it seems, are always in punishing mood. Unlike in the U.S., where "Sound-Horn-OK" is really "Sound-Horn-Not-at-all-OK," on the busy India streets, honking makes people jump the light or suchlike. Isn't India as a nation always in punishing mood, for instance, politically?

I can continue and draw further parallels between missing traffic sign-boards, non-existent speed limits, confusing sequence of traffic lights, innumberable number of unscientific, back-breaking speed breakers, etc. But all said and done, until these shortcomings are acted upon, nothing is going to improve, just like the traffic situation in Bangalore (again, an indication of 'ease' of life in India). 

Total length of roads in India is a whopping 3 million kms+. Yet, as one might find all the time, there is no dearth of rules and regulations in India, dearth is only of followers!

Hatari!

Are we talking about the same animal, Mbwana?

It's sad they don't make such wonderful movies like Hatari! any more. They couldn't have picked better actor than John Wayne (himself) for the lead role. Go for a ride --It'll turn out to be a memorable journey!

Matter-of-fact

Q. Why did the auto-bailout plan to rescue the three Detroit Biggies not go through?

A. Probably the U.S. government thought they couldn't a-ford it.

I had to say that

There was this talk about mosquitoes while we were trying hard to 'consume' the lunch at the office cafe.

I hate mosquitoes. I mean, every life form has its right to live and die, but, please, not mosquitoes (and for that matter, no rats for me too). I lose my sleep over the last memories of having to defy the ever flying and ever buzzing little monsters throught the night. If only I could take revenge by buzzing around their uncovered ears while they slept (or, tried to sleep). But alas! Someday I'll end my existence on this planet with that one dream unfulfilled.

So, this friend of mine, newly moved into his 5th floor apartment was complaining about mosquitoes. The following conversation prevails:

"How come at such a height you find mosquitoes?"

"Aah, those bloody creatures are smart. They know where people live. I guess, by instinct."

"Well, but can they fly to such heights?"

"You bet they can't. I found many of them taking the elevator to the fifth floor,"

"Haha, then, I must say they are born downstairs and brought up later!"

"Or it may be that their families are brought up first and then the next generation is born"

Dhoni v/s Kobe

Times Square, they say, is the meccah of the advertising industry. During my visit there, I was amazed, as I was supposed to be. After the hectic journey through the Manhatten, quick ferry to the statue of Liberty and a brisk walk in the Central Park, when my tired legs and over-excited mind took me to the Times Square, I expected more glitz than what I saw. Yet, there couldn't be a better fitting finale to that day.

New York stood up to my expectation, and it was the first time, I realized how much wealth exists in the U.S.

Going back to the business of advertising, I thought except for billboard business, US advertising industry was definitely ages behind as far as creativity and innovation goes. In India one could watch the advertisements with satisfaction, especially if there is a new one released. There is as much drama and thrill in those as that in the program they are interrupting. It's not at all true of the U.S. They jokingly criticise the game of football (or soccer, to be correct) for not having any commercial intervals integrated by virtue of rules of the game. The American Football, Basketball and their best pass-time Baseball, all have regular advertising breaks. However, the advertisement don't really catch the viewer's attention.

At times, an advertisement is just like a documentary (especially, if it's about some medicine), more like the teleshopping programs we have here. Hardly any highly-paid actors or sports celebrities endorse any products publicly (or at least, that was my first order observation). In India, it's all driven by the celebrities: Deepika ji (not Padukone) who played the role of Goddess Seeta in Ramayan, advertised for Nirama detergent bar! If you consider these facts more carefully, they are hilarious. Just recently, Indian team's captain Dhoni was seen promoting Big Bazar. 

Now, imagine Manny Ramirez or Kobe Bryant shouting the slogan "Save Money, Live Better," or Nicole Kidman telling you to buy Tide Detergent because she has used it herself for years now... It just doesn't happen in the U.S.

On the other hand, they have some unknown faces (which, over time look very familiar) barking information about $10 products, telling you to call right away so that they can double your order. That kind of advertising just won't sell in India.

I guess, in India, we-the-people look up to our Heroes with much respect. And in the U.S., I think, they-the-people just don't care! They prefer their celebrities doing their business as usual, and don't appreciate any interference with their private preferences...

Fly Away Home

It's not that often that someone gets a chance to return to one's home-country. In my particular case, it has happened only twice, and the experiences for the second time have been more intense than the first time (when I was away only for three days and two nights!).

So, the particular case I am referring to, is about my return from the U.S. of A. It was after seven months and a few hours that I set foot on my beloved country. The seven months' stay abroad had definitely changed me, and I could reflect the changes in everything I came across once I was home. I was already warned about the smaller sizes of cars, tomatoes and (of course) people! However, I guess seven months is not such a long period that I should be reminded of this warning every now and then I met a person or an onion for that matter. I was smoothly integrated in the system, so to say.

However, since then, I have been trying to imagine how I'd do certain things if I were still in the US. For example, how I'd drive my two-wheeler if I were in the US, as compared to how I was actually driving it on the crowded roads of Bangalore. In those seven months, I had honked only once (that too, at the DMV inspection to get my driving license). I guess, I honked even before I kick-started my bike here! Same goes to lane crossing. I was amazed at my ability to maneuver my tiny vehicle in the sea of people, three cows, thousand vehicles and a few smokey clouds.

Some of my other habits needed some polishing as well. I was still smiling when I was way off in the taxi that took me away from the airport. Reason: I almost banged into the driver, trying to sit in the passenger seat on the left side! Other cultural shock was delivered by emotionless face of a darshini sagar when I smiled, said hi and ordered a masala dosa. (well, here it's me who is to take the blame--- perhaps I expected a waitress who would ask us to follow her to the table!)

I can go on explaining the disciplinary differences between the traffics, or respcting the red light or may criticise the 'crude' mannerisms; but in conclusion it was a great feeling to be back.

Yes. The US may have treated me well, may have explained the real meaning of prosperity and at times may have enticed me to stay back; but once back, it was a fantastic feeling.

Just as fantastic as when I landed in the US, or maybe a tad better!

My Word!

Frequenters of the New York Times website might have already noticed this, but this is a feature worth re-noticing!

How many times have you shown a little frustration when an interesting article suddenly sends down a difficult-word-bouncer? Most of the times, in my case for sure, you'd just skip that word and move on. The feature I am talking about it precisely for such yous.

While reading any article on the NYTimes, if you come across such difficult word as you never knew, simply hightlight it using the mouse, and a question-mark will appear. To know the its meaning take little trouble and click the question-mark, you'll get the meaning.

Isn't it a simple innovation worth thousand (difficult) words?

Rewind to 2001

Google, on its 10th birthday (upcoming) has opened up its oldest available index. It can be tried here. I came across this site, and decided to give it a try. Of course I tried my own name, and the search (as expected returned nothing interesting). Then, I searched for A.R. Rahman and came across a few sites there.

Then I decided to search names of certain four people. Here are the search results:

Person (1): About 771
Person (2): About 232,000
Person (3): About 6040
Person(4): About 2,610.

Now, if I do the same search in today's google index, here are the numbers:

Person (1): About 77,300,000
Person (2): About 68,300,000
Person (3): About 15,500,000
Person (4): Hold your breath, about 154,000,000!!!

Do I need to provide more clues on who are these above? Can you guess?

Hint 1. I did not use a '+' in the search.
Hint 2. Most probably the present number for person (4) is expected to grow even as you read this.

License to Drive

The traffic laws (or rules, or whatever) in the US can get pretty complex. The exam that I passed before getting a valid driver's license had a lot of crazy questions. One of them was about a snow-scenario, at sight of which I froze. Although, Arizona has never seen the white of natural snow in centuries (maybe during the previous ice-age?) the DMV must have thought through the scenario of me going up to Chicago or Boston during winter and coming across this severe proposition. Anyway, I passed the exam, and obtained my driver's license, which is an old story.

But only the other day, a cat failed me while I was driving. (I should thank the cat-God that she did not decide to come down to Earth when I was actully taking the driving test back in April).

It must have been past 7 O'clock, and the Sun had recalled its messangers. I was driving at a casual pace towards the office recreation center where a prior appointment with a friend for a game of table tennis was on. I was in no particular hurry and was frustrating every driver behind me by driving exactly at the speed as stipulated by the Law in this part of the planet. I came to a complete halt at a stop sign (this is my daily route, so I was not surprised that a big octagon should turn red on seeing my car). There I spotted a cat. Now, cats, as immortalized by their great Hero Garfield, are supposed to show signs of lethargy. But as every living thing should, it showed signs of movement. It was, now I think in hindsight, a pre-planned movement. I don't mean to be sexist here, but I had no way of knowing if it was a she-cat or a he-cat, so let's just call it a she-cat. So, I was describing, she showed sudden urge to move.

I had my headlights switched on (again, owing great respect to Law of the Land), yet, I must admit I was a little careless in not stopping for that extra second at the stop sign. So, I hit the gas pedal before I was forced into repentence. There she stood, right in the central zone of the road, basking in the head-light, staring at me. I must say she had fierce cat-eyes. In that split-second she hissed at me, and after giving a slight jerk to her neck, fled at cat-speed.

That hissing gesture and that tiny jerking motion spelt much to me. And that much, I must spell to the law makers.

I strongly suggest, Law number, whatever, must be ammended and reworded as, "Yield to pedestrians, and by definition, pedestrians include any living thing along with humans." I expect to send a copy to that cat to make peace with her.

And better yet, next, I am going to ask the authorities to create a new sign-board with cat-sign on it (you must have already noticed horse, deer and cattle signs, I am sure). How about that?

Routine

gmail.com

esakal.com

nytimes.com

[bits of work]

gmail.com

[More bits of work]

nytimes.com

reader.blogger.com

[pieces of work]

gmail.com

[morning coffee break]

gmail.com

[more work]

nytimes.com

[A meeting]

[Lunch]

garfield.com

gmail.com

reader.blogger.com

[traces of work]

nytimes.com

weather.yahoo.com

dilbert.com

[yaawwwn, work]

gmail.com

reader.blogger.com

nytimes.com

[closing remarks]

gmail.com

orkut.com

nytimes.com

rediff.com

[.]

and for a change, today,

blogger.com!

And just that much for creativity :(