1628 : Two divided by nothing

On a random muse, sometimes (not too often!!) I do read my own blog entries. (This blog is essentially not for you or for me, but it is my daughter (not born yet!!) to live through my fears and failures….for her to know that her dad was just another human being with more failings and leanings than Pisa).

And when I read stuff like http://spinningawheel.blogspot.com/2011/07/1532-dreams-are-made-of-chinks.html I can hardly believe I wrote it.

One, I think this piece is good, secondly I have no recollection of having written it.

Maybe I do have Bipolar disorder

1627 : Big Moose says I finished the Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Who is Big Moose?

I finished the Zen and and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. My third read (end to end), and I have to say, the book left me feeling inadequete….at so many points the book got so dense that I had to pause and think, WTF is Robert Pirsig trying to say.

And then, you need to remember that I am big moose. I know so many folks who are fed on Chetan Bhagat diet, coming and telling me “Oh that motorcycle book…I tho baba absolutely loved it. After I finished the first few pages, I could not put it down.”

Now unless Grisham wrote a book with exactly the same title, I fail to see how this book is “un-down-puttable”….infact for me, I had to struggle to complete the book, this time around too.

Comments like the above, make me feel even more inadequate . Its a big drag on your (fragile) ego, when you know your intelligence is far lesser than the folk who read Chetan and Aarvind Adaiga.

1626 : The reluctant Zen Buddhist

Contrary to what Zen says, my own view is, Anger gives you focus and energy. Its just that usually this is used by men to achieve ends which are perceived to be “negative” and thats perfectly understandable.

Is that a new age Zen thinker, or just an angry man justifying

1625 : A possible epitaph

The dreaming tree has died.

1624 : The happy path nation

Continuing from the previous post…

Was talking to Prashant about how skewed (and screwed) our miniscule perspective essentially is. If we are essentially the role model for our children, then they might not have much really to aspire for.

All we do is obsess about “our” health, “our” wealth, “our” family….and do chitter chatter “charity” along the way….thats the urban panacea for our clogged up souls.

Prashant had a nice term for people like us – “the happy path nation”.

I could not have put it better….the irony of the term so ironic

1623 : The Adopted Father

I have always wanted to adopt a daughter. Not because it is ubercool, or its sexy, or its philanthropic.

None of that shit for me. I want to adopt because I am selfish, because I want a daughter and because the process will give me a million times more than I can take.

Today I attended one of my first counselling sessions. I was not surprised to know that a lot of parents want supremely fit infants…but what caught me off guard is that some parents choose to adopt only special children.

I also got to know that a lot of parents just constantly do “foster parenting”…they take of babies between the point they reach an adoption center and actually adopted….sometimes this “fostering” period can be as long as 5 years. Some parents do this on a continuous basis….upto 3 babies at a time.

After I heard all of these stories, I walked to the rest room and stared at myself for a few seconds. What I saw was a very large man with a conversely tiny miniscule heart . Funny I had not noticed it with this as much clarity, at least not like I did today. Size does matter!!

1622 : On a day like today…

(promise, last one of the series. This one is for the nerds like me.)

You do wonder, where does Uncle universe store all his memories. Is it a SAN? Is it striped enough? Is it an active active backup? (Also is it EMC or is it the Japanese Hitachi/fujistsu combine?)

Is there a possibility that that there is a blip of failure and the entire records for today get erased….vrooom…just like that….khattam-shud…..and no matter how much the engineers try they cant recover the memories.

So looking forward to the SRDF failure (assuming it is EMC )

On  day like today that would just make my day.

1621 : On a day like today….

You know what the Dalai Lama is saying could after all be true….Maybe there is something called a shared consciousness

How else, do you explain Jerry Garcia’s and Phil Lesh’s Mindbender. I could have written it today, in exactly the same words…on  a day like today.

1620 : On a day like today…

You kind of know what you kind of knew all along….

…but still its a day to ponder…..

Should one be choosing to live a life, or should one be choosing to live. The difference is as subtle as a stubble, and yet…its that shard that makes the world flat or round.

I see the world for what it is….its flat chested

1619 : On a day like today…

You sit and wonder on what is the philosophical premise of “missing”. Once dead/separated, do you really miss the person, or your memories of what the person used to be….a caricature/an image of what once was, and what used to be.

I am sure it should be the latter, but then, again, in such weighty matters, pays to be unsure on the fence

1618 : On a day like today…

You realise, how important is to have at least one person who you consider as friend, mentor and guide….someone on the “outside” who you can talk about your “insides”….someone who does not judge you, but helps you judge better.

Sometimes just talking to someone who hears you is help enough to clean up your head.

Me….I do have one, and only one…this frigging blog

1617 : On a day like today…

On a day like today, you realise how difficult it is to write (sometimes).

Today, words are coming out of my head at the rate of 16,000 words a second….almost like a uncontrolled downpour.

I am unprepared, I don’t really have a catchment area(for the immediate) nor do I have rain water harvesting (for the future)

1616 : The entitlement conundrum

Our children (or our generation and the next) is a set, where at least some of us, have seen very little angst and gaps in our lives.

We have lived cosy cloistered existences within the walls of our Civics and 3 bhk apartments in super paranoid complexes full of security guards.

What this is supposed to create is a bunch of kids who are completely “full of themselves”, believing that each of their needs will be pandered to, and the convenience and its associated paraphernalia,  and “a good life” is theirs for an asking – their “entitlement”.

I can see this phenomenon manifesting itself quite clearly in the generation of kids(and adults) I know – those of my friends, those random ones that are playing in the apartment complex and those nutty wannabe adults and PYT at workplaces.

A few serious thinkers have come up with some difficult, but necessary solutions to break this trap (for both adults and kids….for purposes of example…we shall use “kids” in the rest of the post to mean both). I too have been thinking hard, and I believe I have some solutions at hand. And no, this post is not about proselyting those solutions at all…..nor is it about trivial pursuits like “I take my kid of the orphanage every 6 months…and lo she should not have any entitlement issues”….and hilarious bumkum like that.

This post is about painting a caricature of what are the symptoms of an individual (kid or adult) full of her own “entitlement”…..

1) Projection : Very rarely will she present their wishes and desires as their own…especially the “desires” that she knows will be frowned upon….these “wants” will be presented as parts of a larger puzzle. As an example, the kid will tell you, “no Dairy milk papa, I prefer a Toblerone since it is easier to break into pieces.”…No matter how much you rationalise with her, she will refuse to come out and own that she wants a Toblerone, because it is “cooler” and doing a Dairy Milk is infradig. If you are clear-minded you shall see through this “projection” abstraction in a jiffy.

2) In search of the happy path : Serious irritation can be visibly seen in your daughter after she has smudged the brown paper cover of her notebook with her oily hands. and hell no…she is not at all upset that she was careless…but she is over the top that her “inefficient” dad did notice it, and yet he did nothing about it, and now her “perfect world” has been blemished.

3)Will live, will sulk : She will drag her feet with an open shoe lace for the whole day, till an attendant or a teacher, or a parent notices it. She shall not make any attempt to correct it, or learn to try and solve it herself…. instead ( she shall) keep frying her sack, hoping someone else will notice this for her.

4)Those unassailable luxuries : She will want to sleep flat in a car where the five seater already has 5 folks occupying them. She knows its beyond scope, but will pushing for it, not because she is sleepy, but because, she cannot envisage a world where she cannot “push it”.

5) Hierarchy : She will clearly know that the maids, the watchmen, and the those unfortunate “souls” at the orphanage you took her to(), are “lesser” beings. she is the one who has arrived……. as she grow ups, class related rudeness will be part of her vocabulary.

 

I could give at least 5 more indicators…and some of these as bell weather as a “dick for a male” (I mean if you have a dick you are a male ).

But enough said. Will stop. Get the drift?

 

Is entitlement bad? No it isn’t….really, in absolute terms it does not matter. Its just it will never prepare her for the big bad world…where I can bet my seven lives on…that one day…chips will be down…and she shall be the other side of the car’s window. On that day(notice that I did not say the inane “god forbid” bit….for one, I am bloody atheist, and secondly I firmly believe in yin and yang), she will not be equipped at all to deal with it.

(I have seen personal bankruptcy twice, and I know how instructive some of these life experiences can be.)

And for parents who think….
1)Well she shall never be down, I am building a “rainy reserve” for her OR
2)Whats wrong if she expects the best, she should….else how will be aspire for the better OR
3) She will eventually get it when she grows up, she is only a little child. OR
4) She is such a giving person…last year she gave her “old and unwanted” clothes to the orphanage I take her to OR
5)….

For these parents….one word of advice, get your rubber all ready, shiny and lubricated…you are just sitting ducks, waiting in denial…yet about to get royally laid.

Enjoy the fucking ride of coition

1615 : Those lovely men @ Airtel

17 days to a move and yet my broadband is still being moved….and oh btw, I am in the apartment opposite to my current one.

I love the fact that, in India, this is considered fine. Along with “jugaad”, “chalta hai”, is the other sentiment that epitomises modern life in India.

And when I hear Sunil talk @ the quarterly investment conference about building a worldclass brand and providing good service to his “third world” “chalta hai” customers…I cant help efface and chuckle.

The world is full of humor, if you know where to look . And yes, the joke, always and most definitely always, is on you

1614 :I am a dad

Moving houses is a bit like birthing. Its a very intense experience and of course you don’t quite remember all the events and occurrences in the right sequence…the only memory is blurred and all you do remember is the “good” or the romantic side of it.

I have been through one intensely gruelling move in the past 15 days. I think I am feeling a little older, a little wiser and little more paternal because of it

1613 : The Freudian Slip

As our flight landed at Delhi, my dear Jat Airhostess announces in a crisp tone (and hell no…I am not exaggerating one bit)

“Welcome to Indira Gandhi’s domestic airport”.

1612 : The world comes a full circle

Raavan has been changing since he landed in India. Bangalore is so much pleasant that Jaffna, which btw, should be the world’s largest open air oven.

Recently he has picked up a new mannerism…while laughing his eyes close…to the extent that you can hardly see his eyes.

My lovely sister does exactly the same, and thats her most endearing part.

So here I am sitting and wondering…where is the plumbing…how did my sister’s blood flow into Jaffna?

I don’t know…these are bloody brain numbing questions. I was telling Raavan…life is never worth enough to count the blessings….so enjoy while it lasts….at least everytime I see him hide his cornea – I see another lovely face close to my heart as well

1611 : I cant help laughing on this flight.

Why?

Bad food, bad service, a rickety old aircraft…but most of all, a Jat airhostess who speaks English in a fake American accent.

I am bloody not missing the “lack of an inflight entertainment console” at all

some e.g.

sir, waat you waannt?
i shall gat you your drank
did you prass the sarvice battan
in case of amargancy you pull exit knab

1610 : Yeh Dilli hain mere yaar

I am on a flight to Delhi (all of today’s posts have come offline on the flight)

Next to me is this guy in a this posh silk kurta, with a nice kurti lehenga (the bottom I mean)…but he is wearing white socks and a pair of black leather formal shoes (this is the biggest fashion bummer I have seen in recent months). He is clearly a politico type. Speaks with that air of owning the world (which I have been told that every orderly in Delhi does!!).

He is using a white blackberry (thats quite an oxymoron!!)…is very rude to the airhostesses….is generally farting from both holes of his end (mouth and the other!!)

A bombayite would say, this is the specimen of a perfect ass from delhi.

I am not going to generalise, but I do wonder…whats it about Delhi…air, water, blue line…what anyway ?

1609 : How to bend a mind

I have just started listening to the Dead again (I mean Grateful Dead). One of their better songs is a song called Mindbender.

If I could only be less blind
If only I knew what to find,
Everywhere and all of the time--
It's bending my mind.

Confusion's prince is at my door,
The crown I wear's the one he wore
He's here to bring me down some more
And bend my mind.

The friendly stranger called my name
He only wants me for his game
But it don't matter, just the same
I'll bend his mind.

I've waved my flags into the sun
I've fought my wars, and now they're won
And I don't need nobody's gun
I bent their mind.

I could only be less blind
If only I knew what to find,
Everywhere and all of the time-
It's bending my mind

1608 : The death of a the poet

I often end up debating with folks about “shoots and misses”…yes, you guessed right. I am a bit of stickler for language, and its inherent beauty.

And hell no…I am no stickler that a sentence should never start with an “and”

What I do believe is – language should be used more than just a tool of “direct” communication, but it should also be a tool of “subtle” communication.

Whats the difference between “direct” and “subtle” communication….well all of humor is “subtle”, poetry is “subtle”, so is all kinds of metaphors and underhanded double entendre. Get the drift?

Where I do seem to be losing the battle – most modern folks that language is just functional – should be used for “direct” communication….so how do spellings, flowery usage and poetry fit in there at all?

They don't, at least in their scheme of things…its not important. And thats my lament. A generation without subtleties of language, might also lack depth and breadth of thought.

(If you walk into a book store and see the current titles of self published books, and even our booker winning Adaiga, you kind of know you are seeing the slow angsty death of the quality in written and spoken word.)

1607 : Reading on the wall

I know a lot of folks equate “regular reading” with better intelligence…I also know quite some folks who think if you “read a lot” you shall write better.

I am no expert on this, so I will simply share an opinion…its very much possible, they probably are right.

Regular reading is useless for intelligence unless you are using that to build knowledge models of an existing skill. Example – if you are a photographer, or if you mind has that bent…reading Ansel Adams will most definitely help….but to the same person…Amitav Ghosh or an Adaiga (heaven help those who read them…and may peace be upon the writers) add absolute no value at all.

As to finding a correlation between reading and writing is similar to eating a chicken’s thigh and expecting your own muscles to become better.

Its pure unadulterated bumkum.

What will help though is if you read great writing…like a Kundera, Rushdie….again and again…that might make you a better writer. To write well, you cannot read Dan Brown (because that will teach you about a good plot) and not about good language.

I have found that I write best when I am my artistic hunger is constantly fed. So I use enough of my camera, it almost recharges me (akin an energiser bunny) to write better.

I have also consistently found some of my best inspiration in music (be it DMB, or Beethoven’s 9th or Yanni or Pt. Rashid Khan)

Opinion spewed. Case rests.

1606 : Trivial pursuit

As urban crusaders who think they have conquered the epic peaks of modern life, we often end up deluding ourselves that this is all there is to an end..to a grand finale.

We often believe that if someone were to be working for a facade of a MNC in a “key board pushing role”, he or she has arrived.

I often find that my colleagues and friends – of my age group and similar demographics – tend to make pedantic asses out of themselves by often lecturing folks from “outside” on how life should be…or to take a more specific example… “on how to be a better leader”. BOING BOING ASS !!

A vegetable vendor on the street, or the child labourer on the construction camp, has possibly more worldly gyan than he/she shall ever need. Its absolutely inane to posture that we shall “contribute” to their lives by talking or “educating them”.

They have enough of gyan, problems, hopes, aspirations, anger, death and you name it…what they dont have is just one thing….Money.

You probably have very little of what they have, but compared to their base, you are drowning in cash.

Guess where the balance tilts and by weight of what

1605 : A touch that lingers

Have been using the IPad2 for almost 6 weeks now. I do think it's the second best money I have spent in a long time (the first of course has to be my shiny monster D7000)....

Almost all of my blog entries in this period have been typed on the IPad. I must admit that it took me a long time to figure out how to use labels, insert hyperlinks, or even simple things like images.

Now after prolonged usage...I feel a little more comfortable with the whole device.

Definitely something I want to carry with me all the way for the next few years :-)

1604 : Raavan vs. Duryodhan

You still do hear folks named Raavan....(like my dearest 10 headed buddy from Lanka)....and from folks in the know I am told that it is not a very unusual name in the heartland of UP....

I wonder why I have never heard Duryodhan....

My guess is...for most folks....(definitely for me).....Raavan is this super sharp, devotional Shiv bhakt, who was the epitome of most good things in life, including being a fair ruler...except that he had weak knees for PYT. Most guys read this and go "so what?"....as the spectre of our dilettante(s) play out in front of us.

On the other hand...Duryodhan is this unidimensional pure evil chap...who not only enjoyed stripping women...but gambled and was "joker" personified.

I can most definitely say that my friend Raavan is a charm with the ladies...and lot of strong willed women fall for him...name not withstanding....

1603 : Long lost filial affiliations and long running drippy noses

Mine is (possibly) a very lonely generation, at least my own world is. I met my sister today after about 2-4 years....it's almost impossible to connect (especially for me) to someone with whom I don't necessarily share a regular conversation.

We did talk of this, that and the world around....all the while, my brain is going tickety tock on what could have been.

I did realize how much I miss the company of someone to just share and talk with. Someone to whom I could rant and just simply balk.

I have promoised her that I shall try and call her once a week....I know that shall never be...just like kay sera sera.

1602 : What defines style ?

My fashion sense is about as good as Vidya Balan's (that's when she is not wearing her gorgeous sabyashchi sarees).

I do have an observation to share though. Fashion .... Especially "personal fashion" is not a prerogative of the glamorous.

I do see fairly conservative folks do a brilliant job of defining their own fashion. In my head fashion is nothing more than a subtle statement of style, usually distinctive and customized to suit our lifestyles, body contours and economics.

In my head, if I can always predict how a person will look - then he/she has done a fantastic job of defining "personal style".

As an example, my dear friend Vivek Menon, or my Mom (both of whom you would find are linked up on the left pane of this blog)..they are the examples that immediately come to mind.

Folks who don't have a clear sense of their own fashion, are probably missing out on defining their own personal identity.

And this can essentially be counter intuitive to the "clothes maketh the man" adage.

You dont have to read Esquire or Vogue to learn what ia fashion. Just keep your eyes open, observe what  you like and keep incorporating it in your constantly evolving style.

That in a nutshell sums up my walnut sized knowledge/views on fashion.

1601 : Inky pinky ponky

I saw someone contrast pink with white. That's an unusual choice for me. You are going from a "cooler" color to a much warmer color. 
You could want to do that, if you want to "shock"the eyes a bit. Unless that's the idea - pink with red is what I would contrast for a normal adult. 
The pink with white is a combo which will work well for kids - since kids anyways attract attention.

Is this my fashion sense speaking...no...not at all. This is the photographer in me beginning to start seeing things in terms of their Kelvin temperatures :-)

1600 : What women want or what drives them ?

Folks who know me would know that I am not used to  thinking like a sexist - intact I like to posture (ahem!!) at the other end of the spectrum....

...but then there are days I write posts like this...read on.

What's this post about ?

Women drivers....

In india (both at bangalore and bombay) I often see women drivers ( you do see a lot of them now a days)...and these are essentially passing me by on the other side (or on my own side) while I am driving. I classify most women drivers into the following few categories :

1) Miss Mission : This is the lady who is sitting stiff necked, with the back of the seat at either 90 degrees or lesser (seriously), so in fact she is leaning towards the steering and bonnet. She is holding onto the steering with both her hands (in the classic 1010 position) and I can bet if we looked under her palm at that point we would find sweaty slinky pair of skinnies. She is not looking around - her eyes are focused on the road and car ahead....so much so that she looks like a zombie glass eyed and brainwashed....a lady on a mission...to her clearly the destination is all that matters. I am sure when she alights from the car, her lower back sighs and finally streches :-)

2) Miss Facebook : This lady is driving usually with dark large rimmed glasses on, she has a pair of white ear buds (from an iPhone what else) stuck in both her ears. She is either animatedly talking to on the phone, or she is fiddling with the stereo, or punching on the phone, or giggling and being slaphappy with her "girlfriends". The steering wheel is just another fix within her social world. She is not in a hurry to go anywhere, the car is her social booth....and yes, it's just incidental that she needs to drive, and change lanes, and allow other co-passengers and jay walkers to coexist....if they cannot take care of themselves....well, how can she ?

3) Miss Lara Croft : Make way for here comes the Indian. Her mirrors are either shut tight or completely unaligned. Her back rest is at 120 degrees versus the first one. Sometimes you can see a cigarette, a sandwich or a cup of coffee in her hands...and she is utterly aware of the world around her, but in a very "playstation" sort of way. She really believes she is in NFS, she has three lives, she can restart from where her car last crashed...and really the destruction along the way (caused by her)...she is not accountable for it. Fuck them thingys....

4) Miss Daisy : she has learnt driving well, follows all the rules, makes sure that she glances back to check for a blindspot before she changes lane..she could easily pass a DMV exam if she needed to....the catch...she is driving at 30kmph on the fastest lane of the pretty much empty road....without the "hazard lights" on :-)

Get the drift ?

Well, you do have equally vainglorious bastdards within the male bastion too...

But this one is not about them, let's save that for another post.

1599 : Amjad bhai and those bloody lucky Muslims

We have been using the name Amjad bhai for one of our little friends, for obvious reasons harking back to sholay and barsaat ki ek raat.
I like the sound as it rolls off the tongue - ummm zadhh.
Googled - it means "the glorious" or the one who achieves "ultimate glory".
I have not been hearing of any person named Amjad in recent years - Wonder which of the following is more true - either I have very few Muslim acquaintances or have Muslims stopped using this name altogether ?
Will one my Arabic brothers explain the mystery of this "rare" name to me.

(the subject refers to the fact tha Muslims have an array of so much more better sounding names than the others...heavy rusty grrrgrrrr kind of tongue rolling names. I envy them)

1598 : Right handed world

I am ambidextrous....and I feel strongly that I have a romantic notion that being left handed is better.
It's a bit like "smokers" ... Left handed guys will always be my friends.

I have been using slrs for some time now...and realize how anti-left handed these modern cameras are....

As a universe we seem to prefer homogeneity over diversity....

1597 : Why great education never hurt anyone ? And why bad made you an industrial specimen

If you have been reading some of my posts in recent days you would know that I have had some growing interest in the field of child development and education.

I had posted about Reggio Emilia a few days ago and got my usual share of debates around this.

I think most of the debates in this territory focus on "how we turned out fine inspite of having studied in fairly industrial schools"....

There is also this hare brained belief that eventually "what makes Indians successful is this dog-eat-dog education system and the innate demands our education system puts on us.

For the record, in my view, the education puts no demands on us - other than an infinite ability to "accept without questioning", and secondly it also is a measure of our memory prowess...but that's where it stops for the best part.

What I think a lot of parents and teachers and "thinkers" miss is that - "good" industrial schooling was an essential perquisite only for clerical or "execution" based roles.

India was predominantly an "execution" economy in the 70s, 80s when we grew up. 

We are still an "execution" economy, but we are also much more. we do produce world class art, books, movies, music and the ilk. 

My kid can now aspire to grow up and become a dj, a sculptor, a stand up comedian...

Lets play this statically...The chances of being "different" in a manner where you can change the world is already about 5 in 100. If by chance you/ or your kid fall in that 5...going to Bishop cottons or nps will ruin, bludgeon and flatten any sharp edges you might have....that brings it down to 2 out of 100. Even if you are within the 2 then you still need to find the one thing that shall change the world. 

If you find that one thing...you then still need opportunity, the right exposure and lots of accompanying luck.

Get the drift ? But then that's why you only have 1 dalai lama, Steve jobs, Eric clapton and Dave Matthews.....

Going to a Tisb, or an ecodale mondial...just makes it slightly more easier to be the next lama.

If you are a parent, make it habit to choose the best for yourself and your kid...the best money and circumstances can afford....don't please choose a Bombay Scottish...if the oberoi international is within reach...take the last vestige of a tiny sliver of a chance, you owe it to your Kid, to yourself and most of all to uncle universe.

1596 : Blind man who taught me how to see

I work in a wormhole that I really take pride in...and on days like today, my pride further swells, almost to gargantuan proportions.

So what happened today ?
Picture this. 

My wormhole takes diversity and being an equal opportunity employer really quite seriously....much much more than casual lip service...

I had to deal with someone who is part of the admin. First I raised a help ticket...and when I actually walked to the table, saw a smartly dressed guy with his back to me. When he did turn to face me, he had glasses on, the size of a thick pebble..seriously, they were very very thick and I could see his zoomed up cornea from inside those glasses.

The screen on his desktop was allowing him use the mouse and keyboard, but was also showing him text in font size 100 (maybe) in a different area of the screen. He clearly was very visually disabled.

He patiently took my request, worked upon it, issues me the papers he had to. Asked me to help him with a few more details and I was done in seconds.

What bloody impressed me was - he was sitting in the midst of a floor of able bodied men (and women)....- and yet inspite of being different, he behaved as if he belonged there and served me just as fast.

At that moment - I felt tiny, my problems seemed tinier and my own ability to deal with such a personal situation (if at all it ever happened), made me ashamed and sheepish.

Here's to you big-glassed man...if I could, I would really hug you. As for my wormhole, one more reason I now know, why it is so much better than the street.
(just for the record, I have a lady in my team who can't hear at all without an aid...we hired her, but it was the firm that encouraged us. One thought - I most definitely know I am at the right place to work.)

1595 : Yaar bina chain from Saheb

I have always liked this song from Bappida and Ashaa didi. The music is by Bappida himself. It's peppy, the Lyrics are simple, the memories it evokes are of nostalgic growin up and lost innocence.
Sona Nahin chandi Nahin yaar toh mila....:-)

1594 : Oh CD

Like everyone I have my own ocds. For e.g. Sometimes I park my car, walk over till the elevator (a good 150 mtrs away) and then trudge back to my car to verify if the hand brake has been activated.

I used to as a kid (when I first started using a fountain pen) I used to compulsively wash my hand with soap to reduce oil from my hand and prevent the pen from slipping :-) ahem !!

I think the only way to overcome your OCD is to not do it and wait for the consequence - does the pen actually slip, will my car actually move..and so on.

Of course this is easier said than done. A compulsion is a state of mind rather than a rational choice :-)

1593 : Abhishek Bachchan's two timing

If you did not know enough, based on the terrible English in the article at NDTV, you would assume Abhishek was screwing Lara and has fathered her baby. The key excerpt :-)

Ater(sic) Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, it's Lara Dutta who is expecting her first child and dad-to-be Abhishek Bachchan was the first to wish her on Twitter, saying "welcome on board".