Vida es perros

And it is in the humble opinion of this narrator that strange things happen all the time. And so it goes, and so it goes. And the book says, "We may be through with the past, but the past ain't through with us."

A couple of weeks back one of my brother's friends from school Jay Ramesh died in a motorcycle crash. He was driving back from college in his motorbike, got hit by a car overtaking on the wrong side of the road and died on the spot. He was 21. Another classmate, Rohan Raghavan, riding pillion with him was seriously injured and is currently in hospital. Though I didn't know them personally, we were in the same school for god knows how many years. Jay was this short scrawny looking kid 2 streets away my brother used to touch for notes.

When Jay started out in the morning would he have known that sometime in the afternoon he is going to be lying in a pool of blood on the road? In one way, I think its good he didn't know it. It was a relatively painless event for him. The real reason why death is hated is because its one of those things that puts those connected to the person through hell. His parents are going to live the rest of their lives in the shadow of his memory. They are going to make up all kinds of absurd stories blaming themselves for what happened. It's going to take them years to even come to some kind of terms with it. A random event they have no control over is going to be the master of their lives.

It becomes so difficult to accept that a person close to you has died. I happened to go to Jay's profile on Orkut, and I still saw people posting to his profile, "Dei, Ferrari has won da" - in some hope against hope that they would get a reply. It is almost as if all the signs are there - his profile is there, there is his photo, and ya he scrapped me a week back, so I am sure he will reply.

My grandfather died a few months back. I was in the US at that time. I had been putting off calling home to India for a few days, and had finally decided to call home on the day that he died. I hated myself for it. I felt I should have called him earlier. Maybe he would have felt better about life. I could have spoken to him one last time. Heard his voice. It was some consolation that I had been in India a fortnight earlier. It would have been very difficult for me if I had not gone in the summer.

When I did finally go home in December, I couldn't believe that 'Tata' was no more. It felt like some elaborate trick that everyone was playing on me. In your mind he is still there. There you are sitting in the hall. Its 12:00. You can hear the gate creak open. You half expect him to walk into the hall, "white shirt-white pant", with his trademark "How are you boy?". You walk into his room. You don't see him. Ok, he must be shaving in the bathroom. You open the door expecting to see him there but you don't. You call up the office. Madhu picks up the phone. You half want to say "Tata irukalla" (Is Tata there?), hoping that he will pass the phone onto him and you will hear his familiar voice. The ghost never leaves you. You go to Landmark. You have been there countless times with him. Its so weird to not go there without him. Sometimes, you half expect him to walk up behind you, with his familiar "Finished boy?", then he will go through the books that you want. Most of the books will make the cut. You go to Woodlands. You remember eating breakfast with him there.

You walk around the house. The chairs, the verandah, the terrace, his chappals, his dresser, his almirahs of books all have stories to tell. You remember the time you got him to bowl to you at 3 in the afternoon. You remember the time when you took all of Pati's vessels into the garden and 'cooked'. You remember seeing him stand at the gate waiting for you to come back from IIT class, at 11 in the night. You look at his room, and remember the time you tied him to the grill when he was sleeping. You want to go to Tata House because you feel safe in the memories. You don't want to go to Tata House because you are going to be brooding about him for the rest of the evening. You hate seeing Pati alone. You can't believe Pati is alone. If Pati is there, Tata must be there - somewhere. Maybe he is late from office. Maybe he is reading in his armchair in the verandah. Maybe he is in some room somewhere.

You go through his things. You look at his old photos. You look at photos of your grandfather, grandmother, mom and uncle. Young and confident. You look at all the photos that he took with you in G. K. Vale. All kinds of memories come back. You feel like a lot of time has passed. You could never have thought that this day would come. It has. It was always a day in the distant future. It isn't any more. He is gone but you are the one left suffering.

So don't work your stuff
Because I've got troubles enough
No, don't pick on me
When one act of kindness could be
Deathly
Deathly
Definitely

People aren't dumb you know

Donkey : Where is this fire breathing pain in the neck anyway?
Shrek : Waiting for us to rescue her.
Donkey : I was talking about the dragon Shrek.

Shrek, The Movie

Wafa Sultan speaks.

Normad

Oh well, for the first time in a long time I have broken the 'week' rule i.e. one blog post every week. It wasn't that I couldn't blog - I could have. As a matter of fact, I did write a rather long-winding nostalgic type post. However, after having written 1000 words, I realized that I had barely started - there was way too much stuff popping up in my head. Needless to say, organizing it into a semi-coherent train of thought was a nightmare. So, that post still lies in my draft archive. Maybe one day when I get around to re-editing it, it will see the light of day. Lets see. What has been happening for the last 2 weeks?

- There was 'unofficial' St. Patricks Day on March 3rd. The 'official' St. Patricks day is on March 17th, which is the last day of college before spring break. So, the basic idea is to keep drinking from 6 in the morning till late in the night. Everyone on the main college street was soo drunk that the entire place was smelling of beer. There is a long list of 'quotable' events, but shall pass. Also, I heard that 3 people died of alchohol poisoning. I don't know who they are, but I can guess how it had happened.

1. Get smashed
2. Throw up
3. Forget that you threw up and get smashed again
4. Throw up even harder
5. Forget that you threw up 2 times and get smashed again
6. Oops..dead

- I am doing this interesting psychology type course. It is quite fun to do a course which for once doesn't have

1. An equation
2. A programming assignment
3. A highly skewed student distribution (Ok, I am not going to explain what that means. You need to think.)
4. People talking some un-intelligible techie garbage. *Digression* One of the most painful experiences as a CS graduate student is this jargonization to death. It essentially happens when you are caught in the clutches of some random acquaintance who mistakenly assumes that you might be interested in his research project/ latest gadget acquistion. The death part comes in when you strangle him. *End Digression*. Technology is a necessary evil. You need it, but it's best not to talk about it unless you really really have to. Its like that other thing.

So, for a change, in the class of 25 there are exactly 3 engineering/science/math type people. Timor, Mike and me. Timor is this guy from Belarus with an outrageous Eastern-European accent. Mike is this cocky guy of possibly Irish descent. The rest of the class is from Psychology , History, English etc. Also, most of the students are undergraduates, which gives the class a very different feeling. Firstly, it doesn't feel as sober and serious as a graduate class. Secondly, it isn't as sober and serious as a graduate class.

So, as the only 3 engineers in the class, very often, it falls upon us to explain all things 'technical'. Also, for once we are looked at with awe. See, being an engineer isn't so bad, if you can escape the confines of your environment and show-off to non-engineers. Ok, so, there was this once when the word 'lever' was used in this vague touchy feely sense that only MBA/psychology types are capable of doing. So, our instructor to get the class involved, asks one of us to explain what is a lever. So, Mike goes something like this -

' In physics, a lever is a rigid object that is used with an appropriate fulcrum or pivot point to multiply mechanical force. It is based on the principle of moments.'

He actually made it sound even more complicated. The whole class was staring at him with its jaw dropped.

Anyway, there was this other section where we were to pair up to have a discussion. So, I paired up with Timor, and everyone paired up with someone else - except this girl sitting to my left. I think she goes to the tanning saloon a lot, because she looks errm...cooked. Seriously. Anyway, she got left out, and since she was the only unpaired person, she had to be put into a group of three. I don't think she really liked that because, in all seriousness she goes, " I really don't like threesomes, I would prefer to just do it with one person.". Then the instructor says, "Is there someone who you would really prefer to do it with?" Actually, I made the last part up, the instructor didn't - the whole class just burst out laughing!!

So, as part of the discussion Timor and I had to practice our co-operational skills by discussing whether a hypthetical child of ours should be sent to private or public school. Private schools are better but expensive. Public schools are free but can be bad at times. We had a limited amount of money. The idea was for us to throw around a number of ideas and reach a consensus. One of the key requirements to solve a problem correctly is to be able to clearly identify what are your exact expectations from the situation. So, when we realized we had a limited amount of money, it struck us that we did have some money after all! We could go on that cruise we had been thinking of for such a long time!! Thats what is called thinking out of the box!

There are still more fun anecdotes. However, people, I am going to sleep now.

Anmrod

Quote of the day.

My life is a joke....thats why I like to share it with everyone.

(Of course, the standard disclaimer applies. You use such jokes at your own risk. Now, I am not implying that you really might want to use them. However, I have been advised by my lawyers to make statements like that. Also, they are good fun.)

Anyway, I have no idea what to blog about.

- Of late, there has been no major tragedy/trauma/drama in my life. Thus, little is there need for random philosophy. Though I don't see any looming disaster, I think I am about due for the people up in the sky to hit me on the face with a brick. You see, I am too much of a risk junkie. I have this obsessive need to stand in front of trucks just to see if I can jump off in time. I mostly end up becoming roadkill though. Its going to happen, but you will have to wait till then. Then you can be subjected to self-piteous recollections of random jackshit about myself no one else really remembers or cares about. C'est la vie. Thus is life. You go up, you go down, and in the end you haven't really gone anywhere. Time for a deliriously funny Woody Allen quote from one my favoritest movies - Annie Hall :

There's an old joke - um... two elderly women are at a Catskill mountain resort, and one of 'em says, "Boy, the food at this place is really terrible." The other one says, "Yeah, I know; and such small portions." Well, that's essentially how I feel about life - full of loneliness, and misery, and suffering, and unhappiness, and it's all over much too quickly.

- As most of my readership would have figured out my life as a subject matter in itself is quite funny. However, I have no jokes to make. I don't have anything to rant about either. There is no one I specifically hate. Actually, there are, but I prefer not to suffer from high blood pressure because they are jerks. Such rationality works really well. Irrationality also. Because they want me to be unhappy, I am going to be happy. Happy has a bunny high on long red scrunchy munchy carrots.

- Speaking of 'high', one stumbles to the subject of the spirit, and ultimately on the topic of worship to the long begone one of Messr. Patrick a.k.a St. Patrick. Auspicies are to be performed on March 17th. Though he is from a time long long ago and a land far far away, old timers say that he had a tight party going on planet earth before he was called in by big boss to open this most heavenly joint - Bacchanalia. Its actually this rather classy place run by good homie Bacchus, with the help of his cronies Jack 'On the Rocks' Daniels, Captain 'Loaded' Morgan and Jim 'High' Beam. There are also some fine ladies who keep them company, and needless to say keep the gentlemen pouring in - Margarita, Pina Colada and good old Tequila. Ah Tequila! The nasty one! Gives all and sundry a headache. Then there is also dear Mary, Virgin Mary. Being the shy types, she turned red in the face when someone called her that most embarrasing name. So, Bloody Mary she became. Salty, sweet and everything in between. And there is Bud and Miller. And Heine. And...

....coming soon to a url near you - stories of Club Baccanalia. Why do Bud and Miller keep fighting with each other? How did Tequila become such a nasty lady? What about the fine French and German gentlemen? Where do they come in?

PS : Oh yes, before I forget; someone has actually written a thesis on IIT lingo. It is here. More on this later.
PPS : Just noticed I got a post. Heh.
PPPS: Greenslaves by John Coltrane is nice. Heard the Requiem for a Dream soundtrack?

Random...

The all famous George Cham of PhD. Comics is coming to the University of Illinois on March 1st. Catch him at 100 Material Sciences and Engineering Building. Also of interest - Purdue, Feb 28th and PSU, April 7th. His full schedule is here.

---

Came across some articles on the internet. Should be interesting to you, especially if you are a desi in the US.

• My America by R. K. Narayanan
• The X=X+1 Syndrome - Desi's Life in USA
• Arranged Marriage - Finding a Wife in India

More here. I especially like R. K. Narayan's. Simple, nicely written and very true.

---

Feb 14th was Valentines Day (apparently). I didn't realize it till about 6 in the evening, when I saw a guy walk with a bouquet of flowers. Though, this is not an especially unusual thing to see, it was a Tuesday evening. Otherwise, the day was as normal as any other. No stupid offers at the coffee shop. No garish irritating signs at the Chinese restaurant. No one even mentioned it in conversation. I feel its status abroad (i.e. in India)is much overhyped. Here, it is no more important than St. Patrick's day (March 1st). He was the Saint of Booze (I guess), because everyone gets stoned then.

I think what these guys have done is smart. If you say, 'Saint died today. Remember him. Be sad and sincere', no one is going to look twice. However, if you associate some alchohol or romance with it, everyone would want to be in on the game. Not because they actually care about the saint. Well, who isn't looking for an excuse to goof off? Heh.

However, what escapes me is the newly acquired Indian obsession with all things Western. I didn't know this day existed till a few years back. I found it a really absurd day to remember. Totally didn't get it. I think I actually got around to rememering the date only last year. Anyway, I had this rather funny conversation with my friend Vishnu.

vishnu: in chennai theyve suddently started hyping out valentines day majorly!
me: what? really??
vishnu: the best was when my servant asked my mom if she would have a holiday on the 14th at school!!
me: what?? ha ha ha ha man. this is too much..

I think the fundamental issue here is ignorance - we have no idea what this day really means. Not many realize its a day when this guy called Valentine got his chopped off for possibly getting on the nerves of the local bigwigs. It has nothing to do with the Indian context. We seem to be celebrating it based on how we think people in the West celebrate it. That image is of course fed to us by the media, and needless to say when we imitate we overcompensate.

I have another theory why these days were created. Western society is to a large extent capitalistic. (I once read this in a newspaper, "Heart disease costs the American economy $25 billion in lost revenue". Though the statement makes perfect logical sense, I couldn't help smiling. Do you get it?) In the winter, people tend to be caught indoors and are not that happy. So, invent Christmas, the biggest festival of the year, and keep it in peak winter, to ensure people are up and about, not that depressed, and most importantly spending. Thanksgiving was invented to drum things up a little before the winter set in. Valentine's day was invented to prevent things from slowing down post winter. People are going to anyway spend during the summer. This way, you keep the economy active all year round.

---

Saw Rang De Basanti (today) and Bluffmaster (a few weeks back). I usually judge Hindi movies 'locally', i.e. I compare them to other Hindi movies. Global judgement would be disastrous. However, these two are as good as any film from anywhere. Good cinematography. Well told story. Not too many inconsequential scenes. Not overly melodramatic. If Indians can make such nice movies, why do they make half baked crappy nonsense with Kareena Kapoor and Sunny Deol prancing around like a pair of Energizer bunnies on steroids.

The Semi Slav

The list of my insecurities is enormous. More than the trading floor of most investment banking firms, ok they deal with securities, but I am talking about insecurities here. Small technical point. I have enough material to fill up 3-4 blogs. One self piteous blog. One ranting/screaming blog. One BOG (blog of guilt), which details all the bad things I have done to everyone. Don't get too carried away here, my life singularly lacks sorditity of any kind. I will mostly be wallowing in post-exam guilt, didn't study enough you see.

Also, I am sure there will be ample material left over to fill a couple of Ph. D. thesis. They might even discover a couple of disorders, recieve massive acclaim and find cushy tenured positions at Princeton. What do I get out of it? I get a disease named after me, if I am lucky. They will probably name it after themselves. Anyway, my point is, as any self-respecting insecure person will tell you that, the best way to perpetuate your insecurites is to continually dwell on them. (I don't count though.)

However, this Turkish fellow working in Google just didn't get it. No one wanted to talk to him. He had no friends. Like only a nerd can, he thought that the best way to solve the problem would be to write a program for it. He was megalomaniac enough (one of his major issues) to name it after himself. He created Orkut. Also, he forced all his workmates to become his 'friend'. He made 342 'friends', but everyone still hated him. He is in a mental asylum right now (meaning he still works for Google).

As everyone hated him, he wanted everyone to love him. So, he created this rating system where all his 'friends' can rate him as 'trustworthy', 'cool' and 'lovable'. Then, he tweaked the code (since he had written the program) so that he got 10 stars on all 3 fronts. He was trustworthy, cool and as lovable as a bunny rabbit. However, he also ensured that all the people who didn't want to be his friend (which was everyone) got low ratings. Everyone still hated him, more. He still remained in the mental asylum...

If only he had loved himself. See, his megalomania has created problems for the rest of humanity (remember Hitler, Mussolini, Ivan the Terrible). Like we already don't have enough expectations to live up to. Who needs one more? This Race For The Stars (RFTS) has created a lot of problems.

The biggest problem is the cult of the One Big Happy Family (OBHF). This is a group of people who gush unimpeded at each other, use highly unobjective means of mutual rating, and make others look like a bunch of lonely losers. Though I have no objection to this practice per se, it has has a very negative effect on the remaining saner population. I shall explain why.

I come from an institution much reknowned for its 'excellence'. The entrance to this institution is controlled by an exam. Getting into this institution requires a number of personality traits. One of the major traits is being able to race, rat race. Thus, having realized that RFTS is another wonderful chance to race and hence win, they throw themselves at it with gay abandon. To win a race (even one of rats), one needs to have a strategy. This group believes that if they were to rate others lowly enough, eventually their rating would be the highest. This is along the lines of the kill-all-your-relatives-inherit-their-money strategy. However, what if all the relatives want to kill each other? This leads to poor souls like me getting branded as 'uncool lonely serial killer' (as opposed to the French Riviera living, Armani suit clad, Maserati driving versions popularized in the movies, stereotypes I say). The OBHF comes into the picture here, it greatly exarcerbates the problem. I am no longer a 'uncool lonely serial killer'. All of a sudden, I have just become the 'uber lonely super uncool serial killer on death row'.

The second major problem is the random-birthday wishes from strangers phenomenon. This basically relates to getting gloating birthday wishes from 'friends' you have never heard before in your life. *Begin Digression* I have heard that once you die, a lot of people come to wish you on your funeral and tell you were nice. Isn't that weird? Why should people say how cool you were, wouldn't it be so much easier for people to say how cool you are. Also, if you did do that (and not fight with him) before he decided to kick it, you might even have got a slice of his inheritance. People. Tsk tsk. *End Digression* So, what is it with people suddenly remembering me on my birthday. Is that what it is?? They want me to die!!

There are also a lot of other problems. I can go on but I am too tired to keep typing. So, lets cut to the chose my homies.

I am giving all of you a golden opportunity to make me trustworthy, uber-cool and immensely lovable. However, I am a rational person. Little I do is without a CBA (Cost Benefit Analysis). I am the first to ask, "So, whats in it for me dude?". It's all about the payoff. So, here is my deal. It is based on the famous i will ki..errm...help you out and you can help me out in turn principle.

1. Rate me as super cool, super lovable and super super trustworty (I believe you). I will do the same. I will also become the fan of the first 5 people who do it.

2. Be my fan. I will be your fan, and to make it worthwhile for you, I will be the fan of one more person of your choosing.

3. Write me a glowing testimonial. I will write you a testimonial. I can also become the fans of 2 people of your choosing.

4. Here is the clincher. Do all 3. In addition to becoming the fan of 4 people of your choosing (in addition to yourself), writing you a scintillating testimonial and rating you 'fully', I give you the opportunity to choose one of the following:

• Free career advice. Since, you are an Orkut, you possibly need loads of it. You will also have access to my career networking resources (phds, i-bankers, physicists, consultants, monkeys). To make it sweeter, I also offer to edit your resume and read your statement of purpose.
  
• If you are one of those types who should be coding on 1500$ a month, for your advisor's $10 million project, I will debug your code if it coredumps. If you can't write code, I offer to write upto 500 lines of high-quality error free highly optimized code.
• If, you are one of those types that like to travel, free boarding and lodging if you come to my part of the United States. Since this is close to my heart, I just might throw in some theatre tickets.

5. Marry me and oops..too far...

Once my grand plan to become the 'Brad Pitt of Orkut' materializes, as an apology to the Turkish guy, I will follow up with a post gloating on the virtues of Orkut. I am also going to start giving press conferences.

* No harm no foul. This is about the only place I can safely get away with such nonsense. For christs sake dont take any of this seriously! Don't take it to heart. Take it to lungs. Take a deep breath and let it out*

Mush gush and all that slush

Life has been unfair to me (or maybe eminently fair). Since my last post, the universe has consipired to take revenge upon me.

1. Within 10 minutes of having uploaded my post, I am mistaken for a female blogger. Atleast, I am told that I am 'sharp' (as opposed to 'blunt', i.e. doorknob).
2. Many of my blog readers have implied that i) I am a moron ii) I am insane iii) I am a moronic insanity.
3. Though most would feel that my coffin has recieved a sufficient number of nails, as a final touch, I have been tagged by SmugBug. Her post is here.

At this juncture, I am very tempted to launch into one of my half-serious, half-joking, half-satirical, half-philosophical rants (yeah I know that adds up to 2, but whos counting?). However, most great comics have lead tragic real lives. Woody Allen eventually married his step-daughter after multiple failed marriages. Richard Pryor, one of the first great Black comics had had a traumatic childhood. Chris Rock also had to deal with great ridicule in his childhood. He even made a tv show out of it, Everybody Hates Chris Rock. Matthew Perry has had significant issues with drug abuse. He has lead a traumatic life as well. Ok, that doesn't count. Everyone laughs at him.

So, what does all this mean? What would your psychiatrist tell you? "Son, humor is a means to deal with life's difficult issues". So, if you have more issues than a magazine stand, you are left with little choice in the matter! In conclusion, what I was meaning to say was that, if I do go into one of my rants, and turn out to be funny, I am possibly like one of those comics, messed up in the head. If, I do go into one of my rants, and turn out to be not funny, then I am plain boring. So, what would I rather be? Mad or boring? Mad sounds more interesting. Lets see, a senseless rant would go something like this :-

All things related to human existence fall into 3 categories - wants, needs and deservings. You need what you need. You want what you want. Ultimately, you just get what you deserve. I just noticed that that sounded super cheesy. Anwyay, what do I want from life?

1. A car..
2. A job, this or this.
3. A house.
4. A spouse.

The last bit is the question that this post seeks to answer.

However, it has famously been rumored that all you need is this. In reality, you just might deserve this. Unfortunately, dear readers, it is your lucky day. You are no longer going to be subject to this verbose trauma. I am going to be serious, mature, grave and dead. Ok, not dead, that would be taking it too far. Just serious and mature, and grave. No, not dead in grave. Just grave. So, what do men want? (in a serious and mature and grave and not dead tone) (The 'What women want' question has actually merited an entire movie, so lets not get into that. )

*Please stop laughing, insulting me, pitying yourself. Calm, grave, serious.*

Rules of the Game:
1. The tagged victim has to come up with 8 different points of their perfect lover.
2. You have to mention the sex of the target.
3. Tag 8 victims to join this game and leave a comment on their comments saying they've been tagged.
4. If tagged the 2nd time, there's no need to post again.

Sex: Female

* Loudly clearing throat. *

1. Firstly, you should feel good (atleast ok) about life most of the time. Like most people, I am depressed by people for whom life is one big pity party. Also, like most people, I am irritated by people for whom life is one big ego trip. Attitude is good, as long as it is positive, and directed well away from other people.

2. When I say, 'Grass is green', I haven't just insulted the Count of Monrovia. Capiche? I am terrible at lying. I just don't get hints (which importantly means I can't deliver hints either!). I don't know how to be 'clever' (much to my dismay). So, letting your imagination run wild is a bad idea, because you credit me with too much.

3. Like 1 of these 3 things. Travel. Travel. Travel. If, you like 2 of the 3, I can make an exception on all the other points (See, I just found a lifelong travel partner. Except point 2. I need to enjoy the ride you see.). Just to get things clear, by travel, I didn't mean staying at the Ritz-Carlton and eating at the Signature Lounge (which is on the 95th floor of John Hancock, excellent view of Chicago if I might add). What I mean is, staying in youth hostels, eating from McDonalds, and jumping buses, but loving every bit of it. However, the first bit might also come into the picture ;).

4. Be interested in life. Be willing to experience everything life has to offer. Like to read random stuff. Maybe watch arty type movies. Why are people successful in one sphere of life sometimes total disasters in other spheres (e.g. your favorite celebrity)? Whats pointillism? Have opinions on everything. Ayn Rand needs to lighten up (though I do agree with the point that she makes). Roman Polanski makes great movies. Modern Art is pretty caveman-ish, if you actually think about it.

5. Be at the same wavelength. Have similar comfort levels with 'stuff' as me. See, I am not your thair sadam eating tam-brahm, nor am I some 24/7 party animal.

6. Have something that you are passionate about. Something that you are driven to spend time and energy on. Someplace that you have to go.

7. I love Google. So, don't be evil. Don't be mean. Be sincere. And, don't lie (a lie is defined as anything which is not the actual version of the truth).

8. Most importantly, be your crazy wacky self. See, that way I won't feel so guilty about being me. Also, I have great patience, as long as 7. holds all the time, and 1. holds most of the time.

Lets see. Who do I tag?...
Prashanth..hmm..he doesn't answer tags..this looks like a topic he might like..but he won't answer it just because I tagged him..
Hemant and Jayanand..ha ha..I can see them smiling contemptuosly right now... I have to endure multiple evenings of torture just for having put up this post...
Intern..already been tagged..
Prahlad and Madhura..wait a sec..do they blog??..
Alraqs..she is one person who I think might do it..(psst..its your first tag..bad karma if you don't answer it)
Kirthi ? Sarath? Vc ? Any takers?

* Okay, you can start snickering now.*
* Oh btw, before I forget, all of you up there, you have been tagged*

The Reverse Sicilian

I have noticed that 99.999% of Bloggers are 'unentagled' i.e single. There is a very specific imagery I would like to associate with the word 'entagled', imagine yourself caught on a branch midway down a huge cliff (say in the Western Himalayas). You had jumped off with an intention to hit the floor, but things just didn't fall into place, and you had to get stuck. There you are dangling, at the mercy of the universe, till you get 'unentagled' again.
In this context, if you are 'unentagled', either you haven't fallen off the cliff yet, or you did take the plunge, you did smack across the valley floor, and your innards are currently finely distributed across it. The question that is begging itself to be asked - are you 'unentangled' because you blog so much?, or do you blog so much because you are unentagled? Now, I shall come to the point of my post. Random timepassing over the past year has made me very 'experienced', and has exposed me to infinite amount of blog related gyan. Thus, I feel obliged to pass all my gyan down to my dear readers. So, in 'Blog Gyan Ek Shunya Ek', I shall present my brilliant expose 'Gender based studies of personal web logs maintained on publicly accesible media'.
Male blogs have been observed to be of 3 types, primarily.

• Impersonal topic i.e. 'gyan guru' - Movies, sports, technology, current affairs...
• Witty i.e. 'PJ for AJ' - Inane jokes. Sarcastic or overly complicated humor is lost on most guys. What does it mean in the general scheme of the univerise if AJ only likes PJs. What it means is that however serious a guy looks, it is a matter of time before you discover his jackassy side.

*Digression* I am taking a physics course with a reasonably venerable looking professor with a German accent. For some reason, the discussion veers towards waves, and with childish glee, he starts discussing microwaving CDs and used computer chips. He just goes on and on, the look on his face was simply priceless. Like a child licking on his favorite lollypop.
Anyway, before anybody gets any bright, sparkling ideas, you should read the fine print, and maybe sign your will. Wait a sec, will? Dude, we are grad students! Who the hell would want to inhertit my text book - 'Data Mining - Principles and Practices'!
Anyway, microwaving CDs is reasonably 'safe' (as in you don't burn down the house), if you can take the smell. The Prof had the brilliant idea of putting in 2 CDs into the microwave, with them facing each other at an angle, so that they bounce radation of each other. It is quite similar to shooting yourself in the head with 2 guns.
However, its a insane idea to microwave computer chips, because they reflect microwave radiation instead of absorbing it, causing crazy sparking. If you are unlucky, you just might destroy the local fuse box. If you are very unlucky, maybe you might burn down the university. According, to our prof, it was worth trying, a microwave is just 20$ you see :D. It is rumored that there is a collection of blown microwaves somewhere in the Physics Department. *End Digression*

• 'Light' Philosophy i.e. 'Grande Gyan Guru' - Random reflections on life and the behaviour of people. Quite rarely of a personal nature, and even if it is, almost never overly touchy feely.

Female blogs on the other hand, are almost always more personal. These can vary from angsty confessional type affairs (a.k.a. crybaby), to light hearted ramblings about life (a.k.a toothpaste smile a.k.a colgate pal podi). Even if any of them make an attempt to keep to a topic, the opinion still seems to kind of drive it (mad). It is quite rare to find a female blog that almost entirely stick to the facts ;).
If you want to gender test blogs, the safest failproof test is the 'What I want from man in future' (WIWFMIF) test. It can be easily found by browsing the archives for a couple of minutes. As is obvious from the acronym, it is an elaborate description of what is being looked for in a prospective member of the opposite sex. It is reasonable to assume that this impression has been steadily built up, defined and redefined an infinite number of times since conception. It also reasonable to assume that the term prospective has a surprising permanence. One hypothesizes, is there 'unentaglement' because of un-natural expectations, or do un-natural expectations lead to 'unentaglement'. Was it the chicken or the egg? Or maybe it was donuts. Who knows.
Now, 90% of the content in 100% of these 'What I want' posts can be summed up by the following short yet lucid description, 'tall, handsome with nice-smile, amiable, funny, caring, and (yes, how can I forget!) rich'. However, there is a small problem with this. Lets assume that you are 24 years old. Ok. You have come to know about 200 people in your life. Ok. About 2 will fit that Wal-Mart sized image that has been meticulously built up. Ok?
Firstly, you don't have a chance of hitting that one percent, unless you are around there yourself (see the guy is also equally likely to develop equally unrealistic expectations). Secondly, when demand far exceeds supply, it leaves a lot of room for market manipulation ;). He he. As for me...

All I want is a room somewhere, far away from the cold night air
With one enormous chair;
One flat screen tv;
One big coffee;
Loverly.

Simple demands. Easily met. As I am sure some famous person must have said, 'The key to happiness is not success, but lowered expectations'.

(Those who do know me will realize, there is no intention to offend or hurt anyone! I am not fishing for attention! These are just random statements, and I am as much making fun of myself as I am of others. I know so much about said blogs, because I read them, religiously, almost. )