Whats Your Rashee to Kashid: Story of a Weekend

The month of Sept this year has been very easy. Long weekends have become so common in this month that I don't think I will be able to adjust back to a full 5 day week starting October (though the first weekend of October itself is a long weekend thanks to Gandhi Jayanti which falls on Friday.)

Long weekends are different than weekends. You get that one extra day off which makes you both ambitious and equally lazy. You need someone to kick you in the back and get you to do something worth the long weekend. I mean you can doze off lazing around on weekends but long weekends demand something extra, something which makes them seem really long and fruitful if not well earned :p

This long weekend (26-28 Sept 2009) started with a disaster. I literally was banging my head on the seat before me. I think I even started bleeding but the multiplex owner did not take heed and continued with the screening. After the end of approximately 4 hours I was left (like many others) totally numb, brain dead. I had just been "Whats Your Rashee"ed and let me tell you it was even worse than when i had farted loudly in a project meeting when the manager had opened up the floor for any questions, opinions or comments. My team mates later did tell me that the fart was meaningful, but my manager somehow did not subscribe to that.

I got home Friday nite at 2:00AM and I could not sleep. Gowarikar was to blame, I just couldn't forgive myself for the movie which I had just seen. How could Gowarikar have such an impact on me that he had literally robbed me off my sleep. I liked Priyanka Chopra but after seeing her in 12 different roles in the same movie, I developed a nausea so intense that I could see her face on the female porn stars too. Ok I must confess even after watching porn for 1 hour after I came home I could not find sleep. I re-re-re-read my certification material but even then I could not sleep. Finally it took the last gulp of the vodka to enter my system to calm my nerves and lull me to sleep. I hate you Gowarikar....I hate you Priyanka. Linda Goodman was enough as far as signs go.

I still had 2 days to make up for my Friday fiasco and Saturday early morning I left for Kashid. I had been to quite a few beaches in Konkan now and every time it is the ghats, the lush greenery and ofcourse the lack of traffic which takes my breath away. The Tamhini ghat which is the route to the most preferred Kokan beaches of shrivardhan, diveagar is hell to say the least. Both the rider and the ride (including the pillion if any) suffers a great deal. However the route to Kashid was not via Tamhini, the road was good, couple that with the ghats and the greenery and within an hour into the ride I knew I was going to enjoy this :)

The distance from Pune to Kashid being 200 kms it was an easy ride and the prospect of a dip in the sea together with the food, nariayl pani was mouth watering. The route we took while going was

Pune-Lonavla-Khopoli-Pali-Roha-Nadgaon-Kashid

We started from Pune at 7:00AM and reached Kashid at 1:15PM, by that time, sweat had got to me, thanks to the humidity. But the sight of the waves and the golden sand was enough to soothe me. Finding accommodation was not at all a task. The tourist season had not exactly started (as per one of the locals) and we found decent accommodation at a place which was a stone's throw from the beach. This was the best part. The acco was so close that we even could visit the beach many time, sometimes at will :). From the room even the sounds of the waves were audible.

Just before dinner, the walk on the beach was both calming and serene. There were not many people around, the moon was lighting the path and gazing at the stars in the clear sky was an experience in itself.

The return journey started on Sunday at 12:15PM. We had a heavy breakfast at the beach. Poha, Maggi, Bhurji and tea and we began. One thing about the beach which impressed me was that there were no hawkers selling chat, bhelpuri and that was a relief. The chat and the bhelpuri are the chief destoryers of any habitat and more so for the beaches. We visted a Birla Temple as Salav. Though in the afternoon heat we didnt have the heart to roam around the garden, but it was good nonetheless.

The route we took for the return journey was different:

Kashid-Alibaug-Pen-Khopoli-Lonavla-Pune

At 7:00PM I was back at my place, looking ahead to cap it all off with a couple of bottles of beer :)

A long weekend well spent and very well enjoyed :)

P.S: Will upload the pics soon on orkut.

Fashionably Slow

If you thought getting your first TV video game, your first TV cable connection that too only in the summer holidays was tough then you got to be kidding me. The worst battle which I fought was for getting my parents to buy a PC (personal computer). I had to complete my Std XII to get there. At least the TV video game and also the cable connection came quicker but not the PC. So after the std XII exams were done me and my dad set out to buy our first and I am sure the only PC.

The PC revolution had just begun around that time atleast in my neighbourhood :). Every nook and corner sported either an internet café (I never understood why the word café was used. I mean there were no refreshments or even coffee served there) or a computer shop where entrepreneurs were seated under creaking fans surrounded by motherboards, mice, keyboard and infinite wires. They had zeal like no other. They had a dream of making it big making a PC even more personal than even Bill Gates envisioned.

The word that the Borate’s were looking to buy a PC spread like a Trojan virus if not wild fire and within 2 days 3 budding entrepreneurs came knocking armed with catalogues of hardware.

A Typical Entrepreneur: Sir, full and final sangto. 41K madhe, Samsung cha monitor, Seagate chi hard disk (40GB), Windows 98, 256 MB DDR RAM. Internet ready keyboard ani Quick heal pan free deto. Plus ya society madhe 2-3 order dile ahet me aadhi. Service ani support madhe kahi problem nahi. Tumhi vichara na!!!!

Baba: Barr, tumhi, hey catalogue ithe theva, I will get in touch with you.

A Typical Entrepreneur: Touch kay Sir, mich chakkar marto na Monday la. Theva sanga. Toh pariant hard disk che bhav pan kami honar ahet. Tumche kaam 38K madhe karun deto. Chalo mag see you.

So we had a couple of catalogues to look at, prices to be compared and configurations to be chosen from. I had almost made up my mind when my dad brought home a new concept of “Branded v/s Assembled”. I was never a techo wiz kid, this was new. My dad explained, well he had been enlightened by the Head of the Computer Dept (HOD) of his College, so you can imagine the impact the HOD would have created.

Branded: A PC which is packed, which has only one brand on it. Eg: the PC’s of HP, Compaq, Zenith. Costly but reliable. Fewer hardware issues. But again if you get issues you will have to shell out more for maintenance.

Assembled: As the name suggests. It is assembled. Samsung ka monitor, Seagate ki hard disk. The PC’s sold by the entrepreneurs. Sold on mutual trust, cheaper, but no warranty.

And the Branded PC was a personal favorite of the HOD and it had to be same with my dad. So we visited a couple of shops selling the branded ware. HP and Compaq. The configuration was good, but we found the after sales service wanting. In the midst of all this, the HOD came to our rescue. Why not Zenith?

Zenith: The name did not register anything in me. I had heard about HP, Compaq and so naturally I was following the brand name. But Zenith!!!!??? And when I got to know the catchline I almost puked: Zenith: The Indian Multinational!!!!

Well the HOD knew a dealer personally and that also solved the after sales service. So finally we got home a branded Zenith PC; the Indian Multinational.

On Monday the Budding entrepreneur came and we informed him that a Zenith PC had been brought. Here was his reaction:

“Zenith, kay Sir. Aadhi sangayche na Branded pahiche hote te. Me HP cha dila asta. Market peksha 4K kami madhe. Full support ek varsha sati free. Tumhi rao sagle sangat nahi ani mag amhi service kashi denar. Ani Zenith peksha HP kadhi hi changla. Bagha hardware issues yenar. Teva kalel!!!!”

Its been more than 6 years now, not a single hardware has ever given way. The OS got infected a couple of times but it happens and the PC had to be formatted. Got XP installed a year back :)

The P4 processor takes ages to load a page. I can hear weird churning sounds inside the CPU cabinet whenever some processing happens. I never get worked up. I just sit back, lazily and smile!!!! This is what I call being fashionably slow!!!!

P.S: Today I installed Mozilla Firefox 3.5 on it too. :D

Dharasana Satyagraha: Web Miller

Ben Kingsley's Mahatma Gandhi is an epic. It is one of the masterpieces of motion pictures at least for me. The crisp dialogues, the breathtaking cinematography and the Mahatma itself lend the movie such credence that even if I have watched it 6 times, I wouldnt be bored to go for it a 7th time. One thing good is atleast on 15th Aug some cable channel or the other airs it.

The most riveting sequence of the movie for me is the Dharasana Satyagraha. Just after the Dandi March where the Mahatma has broken the Salt Act, the Dharasana Salt Works in Gujarat was chosen for the next protest. A 76 year old retired judge Abbas Tyabji lead the march with the Mahatma's wife Kasturba. Both of them were arrested and subsequently the protest was to be lead by Sarojini Naidu and Maulana Abul Kalam Azad.

Naidu was aware that violence against the satyagrahis was a threat, and warned them, "You must not use any violence under any circumstances. You will be beaten, but you must not resist: you must not even raise a hand to ward off blows." On May 21, the satyagrahis tried to pull away the barbed wire protecting the salt pens. The police charged and began clubbing them.

The beatings as caught on the camera in the movie were a world apart. Batch after batch of satyagrahis went ahead unflinching only to be struck down by the lathis of the Raj. Scalps broke open, as blood oozed out. People fell by the way side only to be replaced by another batch. Nobody retaliated, nobody fought back.

All this was being watched by Web Miller a British journalist. Even as the beatings were in progress, Miller was shouting on the phone his report which until now for me has been the best newsprint report I have ever come across. Miller is shouting at the top of his voice. He is using the word 'STOP' to signal that one sentence is over and another begins. Hats off!!!!

Here is the transcript of the article. It is moving and captures what would have happened that day at the Dharasana Salt Works:

Not one of the marchers even raised an arm to fend off the blows. They went down like ten-pins. From where I stood I heard the sickening whacks of the clubs on unprotected skulls. The waiting crowd of watchers groaned and sucked in their breaths in sympathetic pain at every blow.

Those struck down fell sprawling, unconscious or writhing in pain with fractured skulls or broken shoulders. In two or three minutes the ground was quilted with bodies. Great patches of blood widened on their white clothes. The survivors without breaking ranks silently and doggedly marched on until struck down. When every one of the first column was knocked down stretcher bearers rushed up unmolested by the police and carried off the injured to a thatched hut which had been arranged as a temporary hospital.

There were not enough stretcher-bearers to carry off the wounded; I saw eighteen injured being carried off simultaneously, while forty-two still lay bleeding on the ground awaiting stretcher-bearers. The blankets used as stretchers were sodden with blood.

At times the spectacle of unresisting men being methodically bashed into a bloody pulp sickened me so much I had to turn away....I felt an indefinable sense of helpless rage and loathing, almost as much against the men who were submitting unresistingly to being beaten as against the police wielding the clubs...

Bodies toppled over in threes and fours, bleeding from great gashes on their scalps. Group after group walked forward, sat down, and submitted to being beaten into insensibility without raising an arm to fend off the blows. Finally the police became enraged by the non-resistance....They commenced savagely kicking the seated men in the abdomen and testicles. The injured men writhed and squealed in agony, which seemed to inflame the fury of the police....The police then began dragging the the sitting men by the arms or feet, sometimes for a hundred yards, and throwing them into ditches.

Miller's first attempts at telegraphing the story to his publisher in England were censored by the British telegraph operators in India. Only after threatening to expose British censorship was his story allowed to pass. The story appeared in 1,350 newspapers throughout the world and was read into the official record of the United States Senate by Senator John J. Blaine.

Jersey No. 5

Jersey No 5: Thomas Vermaelen. The Club's only major signing in the summer window of 2009 and a more than ideal replacement for Kolo Toure who moved on to Manchester City. 4 goals in 8 matches (including the 2 against Wigan yesterday) and the new kid on the block has already proved his mettle in a side which is desperately seeking to win any form of silverware this season.

At 23, he is young and full of new blood. Also he has a responsible head on his shoulders having captained his Belgium club Ajax last season. In the intial games of the season, he seemed to have put the fire back in Gallas' belly. Isnt it ironical that after 8 games, Gallas is the seond highest scorer for Arsenal with 3 goals. Two defenders mind you!!! The strikers have yet to start firing on all cylinders.

The last couple of weeks were tough. 2 back to back away defeats, first at the hands of old rivals Man Utd and then after a week at the hands of the newly resurrected Man City (ohh how I hate Adebayor now!!!). Midweek was also not that easy. Being 2 goals down within 5 minutes against a Belgium side could have been the undoing of the English Club which boasted of a Big 4 finish season after season after season. But Arsenal clawed back (though a couple of goals were sketchy). Again a goal by Vermealen.

The 4-0 rout of Wigan at home was good, but still we are found lacking against those established clubs (the other 3). With Man City knocking at the doors of the Big 4 already with a perfect record in as many games, it is apprehension that the Gooner inside me feels.

There is still time to take on Chealsea (29th Nov, its a home game) but we have Tot Hotspur (31st Oct, at home again) which will be challenging :). Hope we don't have any slip ups until that atleast in the EPL.

P.S: Rosicky is back and looks smooth and sleek again. Want to watch more of him!!! Been a long time....

FindMyMatch.com

I think I was in the hall (read living room) of my house. I rubbed my eyes to get a better view and also to be sure of my co-ordinates. “Hell, it is the hall.” I thought to myself looking at the familiar wall clock up on the wall to my right. But that was the only thing familiar in the hall of the house where I had stayed all my life. What happened here?

“Please have a seat!!!” commanded a voice. As I followed in the direction of the source of the voice, I saw that a table was arranged right in the middle of the hall. “What is going on here? That is my study table. Get up from my chair, will you?” I shouted. “I said sit down!!” the voice became sterner. I looked around but there was nobody else, other than the man who was sitting on my chair. There was smoke lazing around in the hall. That was weird. I took some in, in the hope that it may be stale cigarette smoke which might get me out of this daydream. The smoke had no taste to it. It was jus there, hanging in suspended animation. “Damn, what is this place? This is not a dream”, said I.

“Who said it is, mister?” said the man in front of me and laughed a laugh which echoed through the passage way.

“Hmm, let me see this. You are Mr. Advait Borate correct?” he continued looking at the papers he took out from the manila envelope; age 24, weight 80kgs, though you look heavier to me; colour of skin brown, yeah as if I believe you, a software professional earning close to 5 lac a year, not bad, no foreign trips eh, that might be an issue, but we can see what can be done about that. By the way I am Rakesh Gaithonde ”

“Rakesh what? Hell it doesn’t matter. How do u know all this? What are the papers you have? Where the hell am I?” I was lost and was frantic. “Relax, buddy. You are in your own hall. Can’t you see? Though we had to make a few modifications. But we kept the wall clock. I knew you would recognize at least that and you did not disappoint me. And the papers. Don’t you remember these?” said he throwing the papers at me. “You filled these with your own hand. Look its your signature there at the bottom”

It was my signature and my writing all right. But I didn’t remember ever doing all this. I searched for a name, a name of an agency of a corporation something, but there was nothing. I looked up at him. Sweat was trickling down my face and my heart beat had reached such a pace that I feared that my chest might implode. “I really don’t know what is all this about?”

“Ohh come on now, Advait. Go wash your face, freshen up and have some water.” his voice suddenly became soothing. I did as I was told. When I came back he handed me some printed sheets of paper. Here we go. Guys, can we have some lights please.”

The moment he said this, a strong flashlight shone on me. I was blinded for a moment and then when my eyes got accustomed to the light I looked down at the sheets of paper in my hand. “Read them aloud looking in front.” He commanded pointing at the red light which was blinking in front of me at a distance.

“Hello there, Good morning. I am Advait Borate. I am 24 years old and am moderately built. I am currently based in Pune. My complexion is brown. I work as a software professional in a reputed IT firm in India and will be flying abroad very soon. My hobbies include reading, blogging, surfing the net, watching movies. I earn 5 lac rupees a year. If interested do get back to me at AdvaitBorate@FindMyMatch.com. Waiting to hear from you. Bye”

“Excellent”, he said clapping. “That will be all, thank you Mr Borate. Take him away”. I was still coming to terms with what I had just said when 2 heavily built men literally picked me up and threw me out of my own living room. I had no time to even shout. I landed heavily on my back and my head hit the floor, I blanked out.

The phone ring woke me up. I checked the time it was 3:30 in the afternoon. Damn it was a dream after all. “Hello, who is this?” I said. “Hey, Didi bolte ahe.”, it was my sis on the line. I hadnt even checked the number before answering the call. “Hmm...bol” I said still with a quiver in my voice. “Arre kay zhale, asa ka awaz kadtos” my sis. “Kahi nahi…bol” I said. “Guess what, I finally put up your profile on FindMyMatch.com. Ill message your id and password in sometime, wicked na” she was so enthusiastic. I felt liking banging the phone, but I was sweating and didn’t have the energy to even do that. “Wow. So mom wins eh?” I said. “Hehe, you know she always does!!” came back the reply and the line went dead. My sis is always in a hurry.

I knew why I dreamt about this. My mom and I had been discussing this for the last few days on the phone and she was very persistent. I couldn’t ignore her and had to absorb all she had to say and now it was done. I had my own FindMyMatch.com id.Wow!!!!

The phone beeped. My sis had messaged the login credentials. I freshened up and logged on the website and into my account. I almost fainted when the page refreshed:

You have 2 unopened messages.

I clicked on the first. “Hi, I am Priyanka. I am also based in Pune. I am interested. Check Priyanka’s profile for more details.

My sis wasn’t kidding me after all.

Vidya ka pahela Landline phone

The year was 1991 and Vidya (that is the name of the society where I grew up in Nashik) got its first Landline phone. It was the Dixits who lived in Flat No 1, who got not one but two connections after waiting for a period of 13 months. They needed the phones, after all Mr. Dixit was an entrepreneur and landlines were the only sources then to stay connected. Like everybody in our society, even I was enthralled. I felt a bit jealous too, cos Chinmay (their son and my very good friend) would nonetheless brag about it. Mind you the first colour TV in Vidya Society was owned by the Borate’s. A multi channeled (8 channels in all) ONIDA TV without remote . We used to have quite a gathering at our place to watch Mahabharata on Sunday mornings, but now the tide had turned. By the time the Dixits got the phone, every household in the society had got a TV. So the colour TV was passé and the LANDLINE was the tr(IN)g thing.

We were a close knit society, meaning the architect of the society had achieved such an acoustical feat that any noise from 1 flat could be clearly heard in the remaining 9 flats. Also, it was a marvel of visibility, you just had to peer through a crack of your kitchen window and you could see who was visiting whom. I always thought that the architect was a descendant of the guy who built those forts for Shivaji Maharaj (NOM!!!).

So when the khaki clad VSNL guys (BSNL did not exist then) barged in the front gate of the society and shouted loud for Mr Dixit from the parking, we knew it had arrived. Even before Mr Dixit could get out, the VSNL men were surrounded by curious neighbors and even more curious kids. And a conversation ensued:

Neighbor 1 (The Chairman of the Society): What is there in the box?

VSNL man # 1 (looking him up and down): Who is Mr Dixit?

Neighbor 1: He will be coming, but tell me what is there in the box?

VSNL man # 2 : What is the name?

Neighbor 1 (feeling important): Professor XXXXXX!!!

VSNL man # 1: Hey, not your name!!! The Society’s name.

Neighbor 1 (looking around to see if anybody heard tht. By that time others had covered their laughing faces): Vidya, I am the chairman of the society.

VSNL man # 2 (looking bored and to no one in particular): Who is this Mr Dixit??

Chinmay (finally managed the courage to speak up): Err….dad is coming.!!!

VSNL man #1 to # 2: People only want us to give the connections on time. Now when we are here they are not even showing up. Plus today is Sunday. You don’t know what all I had to suffer at home for this!!!

Chinmay (making a small face and calling out): Babaaaaa

And before the long shout could end, out walked Mr Dixit. He looked immensely fresh for a Sunday afternoon. Now it was clear, all this while he was preparing for the VSNL men. The shirt and the trouser were freshly ironed. There was just one crease left on the shirt, I saw. Only if Chinmay would have delayed that last shout by a few seconds, I was sure Dixit kaka would have got that too.

Mr Dixit: Sorry huh,I was a bit held up. Had to attend an important call

VSNL men (perplexed): Call!!!! Means you already have a phone connection!!!!

Even the crowd was taken aback. Mr Dixit had a phone already and he never told them. Mr Joshi tried to recall the telephone department rules which mandated somebody to wait for a minimum of 3 years before registering for another connection if he had an existing one.

Mr Dixit (feeling awkward): Arre not that call, THAT call!!! You come inside na…please please do come

I wonder how the others had missed the relieved look on his face!!!

VSNL men (not convinced): Hmm ok. But first we will have to check.

Mr Dixit: Yes why not..why not..

And they entered the house. Mr Dixit wanted to close the door immediately but it was just not possible to be impolite. The junta followed much to his displeasure. All the possible seats in the drawing room were occupied and the children spilt onto the floor.

Even before the VSNL men started their job, Mrs Dixit walked out with 2 cups of tea. The neighbors did not mind this, after all the VSNL men were the MEN who mattered the most!!! They finished their tea and also demanded some biscuits and then when they were satisfied they set out to work. The boxes were opened and the phones were laid out on the side table right next to the sofa. People started taking turns to see the phones, as if they had never seen a landline. Well it was partially true, they had never seen a landline in the drawing room of a house before.

After 30 mins the VSNL men drove off in their van leaving in their wake many marveled souls. It was as if a couple of God sent angels had just saved the day and even vanished before the mortals could say a thank you. Mr Dixit did pay his homage to the angels by giving them Rs 10 as a token of appreciation. They accepted it and smiled too.

But after that the Dixits realized that, “With Great Power, Came Great Responsibility”. Now they had the enormous task of respectfully juggling the neighbors. Every night after about 8:30pm just when Mr Dixit thought that he could relax and spend some time with his family, there would be a knock on the door. A neighbor would walk in with a plate containing some sweet or the other. Mr Dixit could not refuse it out of decency and then the neighbor would get into a conversation. After 10 mins into the conversation he would slowly take out his phone diary from his upper shirt pocket and inch closer to the phone. Mr Dixit would understand and leave the drawing room for some reason. With Mr Dixit out of sight the neighbor would call out, “Arre ek call karu ka!!!”. Mr Dixit would have no option but to say ,” Ho ho, ka nahi aaplach phone samjha!!!”

This went on for a couple of weeks and Mr Dixit had to do something. He had to retaliate without disturbing the delicate relationship with the neighbors and he got it. Whenever he heard the knock on the door in the night, he simply used to pull the phone line from under the instrument. He also decided not to leave the guest alone lest he found the courage to actually look around and find that the wire was disconnected in which case he would have to join it back and everytime the phone went dead the other neighbors would also look for the disconnected wire.

It worked. In a few days time the neighbors got the hint. They stopped disturbing him. Now the phone was used only when really required and in the due course of time everybody got their own connections.

As times changed the landline became out of fashion and mobiles started ruling the roost (they do so even now). I have a prepaid connection, sometimes when I run out of balance and ask for my roommates’ cell to make a call, I cannot stop but remember Vidya, the first Landline and ofcourse Mr Dixit and his subtle tactics!!!!

(Disclaimer: Though the names used in this article are real, the dialogues are imaginary. What do you expect a 6 yr old to remember :p)