Random thoughts..

Dining in the dark

2012-02-05T09:17:00.000-08:00

Apparently it is a thing. Sounds gimmicky but what is the point of making money if you can't spend some of it on an intriguing gimmick. So we headed over to Opaque in San Francisco Saturday night to try it out.

You walk in to a narrow entry way where the hostess receives you and hands out menus to choose your food. You choose from a couple of options in a prix fixe menu, pick your drinks and then are ready to enter the restaurant proper. The hostess asks you to turn off your cell phones (I put mine on vibrate and stuffed it in my purse. And held my purse tight between my legs the whole time so I would feel the vibration if it went off. I may have a slight problem), take off any watches and otherwise eliminate all sources of light. Then she hands you off to your server, who is legally blind - like all the wait staff. The group forms a little train behind the server, each holding the person in front of them. (Pro-tip : There's a lot of touching - deliberate and accidental - over the course of this evening. Best to go with people you know fairly well!). The server is the engine of this train and guides you into the restaurant proper. You go through a darkened passageway, past a blackout curtain and you are finally in the pitch dark. I cannot overstate the blackness of this dark. My pupils spent the whole evening dilating but could not distinguish the slightest shape. The server guided us each to our seats and we began the meal. When we were lining up to enter the darkened passageway, I felt a moment of utter panic. But once we were seated it passed. I felt around to get a mental picture of the table's layout and position of my fellow diners. The server described the serving strategy : she'd bring the plates to one side of the table and the two people at the end would pass them down to the others. It worked quite well; too well in my opinion. Once we were seated it felt disappointingly like a normal meal. Sure we jabbed our forks all over our plates but there really was not much difficulty. I had a water glass and a drink on either side of my plate; not only did I drink from both easily, they were not even slightly in the way when passing dishes back and forth or reaching to try the food in my neighbour's plate. Should not have been surprising considering the ease with which I walk around my bedroom in the dark. We are better than we think at limited navigation through known territory.

The food came in one course at a time, was duly passed down the line of diners. Much giggling ensued during the first couple of courses as we tried to eat what we could not see. I hear that the remaining senses are enhanced when one is lost, but it probably takes longer than a couple of hours. None of us felt our sense of taste or smell enhanced by the blindness. Quite the reverse, I lost a lot of the flavour of the food by not being able to see it. I also found myself shoveling the food down my throat in an unseemly hurry due to some trace remains of anxiety. I had to force myself to slow down and savour the food. That helped some, but again I realised how much I take sight for granted during an eating experience. For instance, I always combine things on my plate for optimal taste - a piece of cheese with every bite of salad. Or a delectable crouton saved till the end as a final treat for my taste buds. It was quite frustrating not being able to do that.

The food was quite good but not extraordinary. Given the logistical nightmare of running this place, the price ($100 per person for food) is probably justified. But at the end of the day, I can't honestly say the experience was worth the cost.

Vain musings

2012-02-01T00:00:00.000-08:00

Is there anything so poignant as the loss of something one never possessed?

There it was, hovering by your head. You could reach out and grab it easily, or so you told yourself. Any time you wanted. It was practically yours and one day you would just pluck it out of the air. But you never did reach out, except that one time when you made a tentative, hesitant movement and then quickly turned it into a different gesture - nah, I was just brushing my hair. And there it bobbed silently, like a golden snitch. It is mine, practically so. Slowly it moved a little farther away, each day. And you didn't notice. Or wouldn't listen to the part of you that did. You kept insisting it was right there and all you had to do was take it. Really. Further and further away it went. And you went on saying that you possessed it - in all but name, really. Yet it kept moving away, kept getting harder to ignore the drift. And the farther it went, the more dearly you clung to the claim that it was nearby. Really. Not because you could no longer reach out for it, but because you didn't want to admit that you never would have.

Not really.

Team Fanny!

2011-12-27T17:41:00.001-08:00

If you neither know nor care about Fanny Price, you can stop reading now...

(Ok ok, here's a quick recap : Fanny Price is the heroine of Jane Austen's book Mansfield Park. Fanny and Edmund are cousins, Fanny's in love with Edmund. Enter Mary & Henry - a delightful brother and sister pair who completely outclass Fanny & Edmund in likability. Mary pursues Edmund, Henry pursues Fanny but the boring couple ends up together and the exciting brother & sister are disgraced.)

Broad mindedness is a virtue very much in fashion today. Yet nothing is so amusing as the narrow mindedness of the fashionably broad minded.

Fanny Price is a quiet, intelligent girl with strong morals, what one would call a "good" girl. But unfortunately good girls are no longer the thing. Heroines today are feisty, out spoken, slightly unscrupulous and (adorably) self involved. And for all our pretensions to liberality, we aren't really accepting of different-ness. Only of the one specific kind currently sanctioned by popular culture. Quirky, rebellious, bitchy girls are cool but demure, shy girls are unacceptable even though nowadays they are in reality more "different" than the other kind.

Criticisms of Fanny fall into two categories; the first is that "Mary should be heroine". I honestly don't understand this train of thought. If Jane Austen had wanted Fanny to sparkle in contrast to her rival, she would have made Mary less appealing. If she had wanted a saucy heroine with sparkling eyes, she would have written Pride & Prejudice. Fanny is Fanny and Mary is the vamp for a reason. Each of Jane Austen's novels are about a human failing, and by the end of each book the failing human learns a lesson. Emma is about vanity, Pride & Prejudice is about - well, you can guess. Mansfield Park is about seduction. Mary and Henry come to Mansfield and seduce (metaphorically) everyone including the reader. Detractors criticize the book for having two such delightful characters as its villains, but seducers are always delightful - to start with. By the end of the book their evil side is revealed (well, as evil as any Jane Austen character could be). Mary can't put aside her greed even for the sake of Edmund's love. Henry, for vain, selfish pleasure, seduces a married woman he isn't really interested in.

Mary and Henry are a metaphor for 'Society' with a capital S. You know; the one Oscar Wilde said is only criticized by those who can't get into it. It is dazzling and brilliant, it is delightful and exciting, it is beautiful people in skimpy clothes and colourful cocktails and shiny lights and loud music and lots of laughter. It brings excitement and pleasure. What it doesn't bring is happiness. Just like Mary and Henry. Edmund and Fanny are the "countryside" to Mary & Henry's "London" - less glitzy, less glamorous but of real, lasting sterling worth.

Mary and Henry are also a cautionary tale. They do have a shot at real happiness. Beneath the superficiality they have substrata of kindness, love and what Jane Austen calls "moral taste". These qualities surface when they retreat from Society to the more sedate but wholesome company of Edmund and Fanny. And almost overcome their weaknesses. Almost. But they go back to Society and get sucked into its depths of shallowness. And lose that one chance of real happiness they had accidentally stumbled upon.

If this were Hollywood, the same lessons would be learnt but in a different manner. Mary would give up all ambition of a rich husband and be satisfied with Edmund. Henry would reform, give up his playboy lifestyle and marry Fanny. And all the Mansfield Park haters would be satisfied. Personally I think Jane Austen wrote a better story line, certainly less saccharine and probably more realistic. How many playboys have really reformed and settled down because they met the 'right girl'? And if they do, why should their past unfaithfulness be so conveniently forgiven? And how many women, brought up in luxury with expensive things, have turned on a dime and settled into hardworking, frugal, happy homebodies? Jane Austen's books may be called romance novels but she was far too perceptive to have romantic misconceptions about human nature.

So where is Fanny in all this? The second criticism is that she has no positive traits, that she is washed out, negative, passive and yet somehow annoyingly flawless and always right. There is some justification here: Austen's books always follow the same pattern - blunder, lesson, happiness. Usually it is the heroine who commits the blunder. At Mansfield Park it is the other residents who misjudge Mary & Henry while Fanny is never deceived. The book does give a credible reason for this - Fanny is the mousy quiet person who sits in a corner observing everything and participating little. So much easier to avoid deception when you have an outside perspective rather than being the one the deception is aimed at. But yes, it is not completely unfair to claim that Fanny is "always right". But flawless? Only a completely non-shy person could see no flaw in her excessive timidity. True it doesn't lead her into any single tragic event but it is like a giant boulder on her fragile shoulders, wearing her down all the time. And make no mistake about it, the author is fully aware of this burden. Jane Austen knows her Fanny as well as she does her Emma or Marianne, and paints her with a gentler but equally perceptive touch. Witness a time when Fanny pauses before joining her uncle in the living room : "she paused for what she knew would never come, a courage that the outside of no door had ever given her". As for positive traits - her quiet determination to do the right thing in the face of all opposition is very much that. A silent hero, if you will, one who doesn't claim the center of attention but quietly, persistently follows the path she believes in.

Of course, nothing I say can make Fanny more entertaining than she actually is, and every time I read the book I root for Fanny and Henry getting together and leaving Edmund to Mary. But the book is brave enough to not just hand me the easy ending I want. You know, just like real life. If Fanny is boring, she is neither less good nor less real for that. And the author's sharp tongue amply compensates for Fanny's bland one, the book itself is a classic gem of satirical wisdom.

Re-read it with an open mind and you will find such a difference between your expectation and your experience as "time is for ever producing between the plans and decisions of mortals, for their own instruction and their neighbours' entertainment".

A trip to France

2011-08-07T14:43:00.000-07:00

David and I went to France in July. We spent a week in Paris and then traveled to the Loire valley to do some chateaux watching.

Full picture album (without annoying narration) :

https://picasaweb.google.com/116423174638525205555/Paris?authuser=0&feat=directlink and

https://picasaweb.google.com/116423174638525205555/LoireValley?authuser=0&feat=directlink

Paris

We got to Paris on July 11 from Cayman Islands, where we had been attending a friend's wedding. We stayed at a nice, cozy little place called the Familia Hotel in the Latin quarter. It is a nice neighbourhood to walk around in, with some cool ethnic restaurants for when this poor vegetarian got tired of eating some combination of bread, cheese and chocolate. It is also walking distance to the Pantheon and Notre Dame. Which is where we strolled down to that same evening...

From Paris

The Seine river runs through Paris, and has two small islands in it. Notre Dame is on one of the islands - Ile de la Cite. (But the other island has a famous ice cream shop, so it's a tie)

The cathedral is massive and sufficiently grand with beautifully intricate carving and flying buttresses. (I'm vague on the concept of flying buttresses but David was excited about them and took lots of pictures) Its interior succeeds in creating that indefinable atmosphere unique to great places of worship - the kind that makes even the most atheistic person come over all spiritual. Unfortunately in addition to being an incredibly popular tourist destination it is still an active place of worship. You can't help feeling sorry for the priests trying to preach in spite of the throngs of tourists wandering through the church taking pictures.

The next day we went down to the Eiffel Tower. To be honest I expected it to be ugly but it looks quite classy. Up close the metal is a cool brownish color that gives it a sepia tone. Of course this was easily the most crowded place I've ever visited and there were lots of annoying souvenir dealers selling little Eiffel Towers.

From Paris

We spent the next few days exploring the normal tourist destinations, eating a lot and walking a lot. We took a boat trip down the Seine which was very enjoyable, especially on that hot summer afternoon. We went to the Arc de Triomphe and walked down the Champs Elysees. The Montmartre district is a cute, quaint neighbourhood to wander around in - David's father recommended it to us. It is on a hill and at the top of the hill is the Sacre Coeur Basilica. The Louvre is a beautiful building but completely overwhelming as a museum. For one thing it took us more than an hour to buy tickets (you really really should purchase those online). Once in, we took one look at the map and decided that all we could hope for was to glimpse some of the highlights. The most disappointing moment was the Mona Lisa - I sincerely recommend that no one even try to view this painting. All you can see is a sea of people holding up cameras, craning to take pictures over everyone else's heads. And you are forcefully reminded that you too are that most ridiculed of characters - a tourist. Oh well. If you only have a few hours to give the Louvre, its best to stick with the exterior.

From Paris

July 14th was Bastille Day. We were told there would be fireworks at the Eiffel Tower, so we headed down there that evening. Half of Paris was there but we cleverly managed to maneuver our way to a great viewing position, just a few hundred feet away from the tower. Now we just had to wait for darkness to fall. This was a long wait, summer days are really long in Paris and even at 1opm there is some daylight. Eventually around 11 it got dark enough, there were sounds of activity and then the fireworks started... off to our left, over the river, not the tower at all! Fortunately we still got to see them, although the view was not nearly as good. Returning to the hotel was a challenge, with such massive crowds we had to walk a long way to reach a subway station that wasn't suffocatingly crowded.

Around our 5th day the weather changed. It had been beautifully sunny and warm, even in the evening. But now the rain started and it didn't quit for the rest of our trip. Unfortunately neither of us had expected rain so there was some scrambling for appropriate gear. I bought a hideous sweatshirt with PARIS scrawled across the front in big bold letters. After that, David was no longer allowed to take pictures of me.

Versailles

My cousin Darshan lives in Germany and came down to Paris to spend the weekend with us. Which was great because we hadn't seen each other in about 10 years. Together the three of us went to Versailles, which is about a 90 minute train ride from Paris. It was raining when we got there and I hadn't yet acquired the PARIS sweatshirt. Darshan was the only one of us prepared for this weather. So of course I simply stole his jacket. Having learnt from our Louvre experience, I had been very careful to buy tickets in advance this time. I was gloating about this all the way to Versailles but on getting there we discovered that there was a long line just to enter the palace. We stood shivering and wet in the courtyard for another hour while the line slowly snaked forward. Versailles may be a grand palace but my main impression of it was of a stuffy, incredibly crowded place. Only a few of the chambers are open for viewing and everybody gets into a single line and is herded from one room to another. I was too demoralized to even get my camera out as long as we were indoors. After lunch, however, the rain stopped and we ventured into the famous gardens (separate charge).

From Paris

The next day we spent the morning wandering around town and then David & I headed off to Blois in the Loire Valley and Darshan went back to Germany.

The Catacombs

But before I get to Blois, I must tell you about the Catacombs.

Our guide book had a small paragraph on the "catacombs" of Paris which it suggested were worth visiting. The cemeteries in Paris had become over crowded in the 18th century and so many of the bodies had been dug up and reburied in a part of the catacombs - underground passageways. It wasn't clear what there would be to see down there: some graves, maybe a couple of skeletons tossed in a corner. But it sounded like a change from all the history and culture we were feasting on, so I decided to give it a shot. David and I wandered down there one morning only to discover it was Bastille Day and the catacombs were closed. The next day we decided to give it another shot but were out of luck again. The catacombs were open, but there was some glitch. Due to a "technical problem", half the place was closed off and so they could allow only a small number of people down at a time. The wait was a couple of hours, it was recommended we come back another day. Then on Sunday we went there again with Darshan. Third time lucky. Not so much. Yet again there was a long line outside the entrance. Yet again, a helpful official came by with a placard that explained half the place was closed - this time because of "safety concerns". The placard went on helpfully to emphasize that the entrance fee was not reduced. An anticipated 2 hour wait. We left again - as my mother would say "the catacombs weren't in our destiny".

But by now the catacombs began to feel like the most attractive place in Paris and I couldn't rest easy without going there. It turned out that we returned to Paris the day before our flight home and we had half a day to kill. We made a beeline for the catacombs, waited patiently in another long line (this time the placard advertised 'security reasons' for the reduced capacity), got rained on but finally made it in! This was possibly the weirdest place I've been to. As I said before, we didn't know what to expect. A somewhat creepy experience, a couple of skeletons lying in a corner. But we weren't prepared for this :

From Paris

The walls were lined with skulls and bones. No, the walls were skulls and bones - plastered into place - all along the passageway. In places they were arranged in bizarre decorative formations. How anyone could think this was an appropriate way to treat their ancestor's bodies is beyond me! It was creepy and deeply disturbing, I can't believe this is a tourist attraction and I am so glad we did get to see it.

Loire Valley

Anyway, so on to the Loire. The Loire valley gets its name from a river that runs through it. For some reason the valley is filled with chateaux and the chateaux is what we wanted to see. Our first stop was in the town of Blois, which turned out to be an absolutely adorable medieval town fulfilling all my old Europe fantasies of narrow alleyways, cobblestones and cute buildings. Its also a popular base for touring the nearby chateaux.

From Loire Valley

We hadn't rented a car, so our travel was limited by public transportation. There is a bus that goes to nearby chateaux and we took it to Chambord and Cheverny.

Chambord has a combination fort and hunting lodge feel with its keep, towers and large halls. It also has the most extensive grounds in France. It has an interesting double helix staircase in the center of the building. Two entwined sets of spiral stairs climbing to the top without ever meeting. It was a pleasure to wander at will through this castle after the restrictive, crowded tour of Versailles. I would have taken far more pictures here but I got separated from David and spent most of my time looking for him. He spent this time wandering around unperturbed, taking pictures...

From Loire Valley

After Chambord we went to Cheverny. This is a more modest chateau - I don't believe any kings ever owned it, only lowly noblemen. It is well known for (of all things) its kennel full of hounds.

From Loire Valley

The next day we took a train to Chenenceau, which is the most popular of the Loire chateaux. It has a unique location, built right on the banks of a river with a long hall that spans the river.

From Loire Valley

We were told that during the second world war, one bank of the river was in occupied France and the other in Free France. So resistance fighters helped people escape by bringing them in through the front door and out across the long hall. To be honest this sounds like a made up story to me. But I heard it several times and even Wikipedia says so, so it must be true! (By the way we saw several references to the "Resistance" in the Loire towns: roads, squares and even a Resistance museum right next to our hotel. We would have visited it but the museum hours had been explicitly designed to discourage visitors.) This was the most crowded of the Loire chateaux we saw, even though some tourists must have been kept away by the pouring rain. Fortunately the place is large enough that it was still a lot of fun wandering through the various rooms. We got to see the kitchen and pantry which was an opportunity to glimpse the behind-the-scenes life at a castle. Overall, in spite of the rain, it was a very enjoyable trip. Also the food at the adjoining restaurant was surprisingly good.

Oh, and the chateau was designed and owned by multiple women so its called the women's chateau. Which sounds a little soppy but maybe explains why it is so elegant looking.

From Loire Valley

(Several places had scaffolding due to ongoing construction work. And the scaffolding was always covered with fabric that was painted to look like the building. Not fooling anyone obviously, but much less of an eyesore. Quite a cute idea).

That brings us to the last couple of days of our trip. I'd been intrigued by a hotel called the Chateau de Verrieres in Saumur. Excited at the idea of staying at a real chateau and spurred on by the Trip Advisor reviews, I booked us into this hotel for the last couple of nights. It was a lovely place but disappointing from my point of view. The experience was that of staying at a luxury bed and breakfast, rather than a historic building. The chateau is very large for a home but small for a chateau! Still, the place is charming and the big bedroom and giant bathroom was a welcome change after the tiny "European" hotels we had stayed in so far.

From Loire Valley

And just like that, our trip was over. We went back to Paris on Friday, finally finally got to experience the Catacombs, stayed at an airport hotel and took the morning flight back to California.

A really fun trip in which I learned some rather random things. For instance that France (presumably all of Europe) has embraced 24 hr time with a vengeance. And that our US credit cards don't work in the Paris metro because they have no chip. Also three weeks is too long to stay away from work and I get impatient to return. And how much I like where I live, because I'm homesick even when I am at the most beautiful places in the world.

(More pictures at :

https://picasaweb.google.com/116423174638525205555/Paris?authuser=0&feat=directlink and

https://picasaweb.google.com/116423174638525205555/LoireValley?authuser=0&feat=directlink)

We interrupt our regular scheduled program ...

2011-04-17T20:23:00.000-07:00

...

Ok, I have to get this off my chest. That whole picture Americans have of Europe being this sophisticated, socially progressive, liberal paradise that the US can only aspire to? Bull f*ing shit!!

Whatever one says about the United States - and a lot could be said - here's two things that are still legal: Minarets and burkhas!

You may not have caught on to the subtle tone of disagreement in the previous statements, so I shall be more explicit. I cannot believe that in the 21st century a so-called democracy believes it is acceptable to pass a law telling its citizens what they can and cannot wear.

Let's call a spade a spade. This is a blatant Islamaphobic law, born of bigotry and suspicion of Muslims. There have been multiple other arguments put forward in its favour, but I call bullshit on all of them:

1. "Security" : Apparently the French government thinks it is under imminent threat from terrorists disguised in burkhas. Now I have never been to France but I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that a burkha clad person kind of stands out on the streets of Paris - just a little. Not something terrorists are aiming for actually.

2. "It's for their own good" : This is the most annoyingly bigoted, condescending, culturally arrogant argument of all. So you assume that every one of your citizens wearing an outfit you disapprove of are doing so only because they are being forced to do it by scary patriarchs. And your solution is to stigmatize and humiliate these citizens as a means to "save them"?

3. "Social integration" : Don't make me laugh. No quicker way to alienate an entire community than by disrespecting their religion, insulting their women and declaring their customs "not welcome".

For you culturally tone-deaf people, let me explain how this sounds to the Muslim world: there are women who have gone around their entire life covered from head to foot. Who have never had an unrelated man look at their faces. Telling these women to now walk the street without their niqabs is like forcing an average American woman to walk around with her shirt off. How do you think "France forces American women to go topless!" would play in the United States? Don't forget to factor in the strong cultural attitude about women's "modesty" and "honour". And the general view of the west as morally corrupt. All this to change the sartorial habits of about 2000 out of more than 60 million people? Really? Maybe Sarkozy was secretly aiming to radicalize more Muslims?

An amusing side-effect - since the law needs to appear non-bigoted all kinds of face covering are banned. So I guess even if you're feeling cold, no balaclava for you!

Ajanta

2011-02-15T22:22:00.000-08:00

Ajanta is a more dramatic setting than Ellora. Temples carved out of natural caves in the sheer cliff face of a hill, they are nearly invisible from most surrounding areas. The story is that they passed out of living memory and were 're-discovered' by an Englishman in the 19th or early 20th century. He was out hunting and saw the caves from a nearby hilltop.

You drive to the bottom of the hill and then pile into a bus that takes you close to the caves. Then you climb up several steep stairs to reach the caves and there are men with chairs to carry the less active tourists. Most of the caves are Buddhist temples or monasteries. The interior walls retain far more of the colourful painting than Ellora, hardly surprising since they are more shielded from the elements. Maybe this is why I have always associated Ajanta with paintings and Ellora with sculpture. But in fact Ajanta has just as much sculpture as Ellora and in a more tranquil, dramatic setting. The monastery caves are particularly interesting - the rectangular hall in the center with doors leading off into tiny bedrooms on two sides. Strange place to choose to live in, yet not unpleasant.

(One of the oldest from around 100 BC, I believe this is actually one of the few Jain temples there)

Sorting through our vast collection of pictures, I am quite disappointed not to have more pictures of Ajanta. It appears that our official photographer was either bored of caves or of taking pictures. So instead here's a look at the ubiquitous school trips.

Oh, funny story.... As I said in the previous post, Ajanta & Ellora are off the beaten path for foreign tourists. You meet a few but nothing compared to the crowds at the Taj Mahal. Also this is a fairly rural part of India and a lot of the other people we saw were from nearby villages.

All this to explain that most of them had never seen a white person before so David was quite a novelty. And since I was with him and wearing western clothes, some of them thought I was a "foreigner" too!

A group of girls in their late teens accosted me along the way and wanted to take my picture. I couldn't figure out how to clear up their misunderstanding and it seemed easiest to just comply. So I posed with a few of them. A man travelling with them was more perceptive. He looked at me suspiciously and asked me where I was from. "Mumbai" I explained with some relief. "Oh she's just a local" He tried to explain to the girls but they were already snapping away.

Afterwards a few of the girls came up to me and asked me my name.

"Mugdha". Ugh! not only was I Indian, I was a Maharashtrian just like them. So much for novelty! Just then David joined us.

"What is your name?" one of the girls demanded of him in English.

"David".

That was better. Perhaps this meeting wouldn't be a complete waste after all. Attention shifted from me to him.

"Where are you from?"

"United States"

blank stares all around

"America" I explained helpfully.

Ah, America.

"Tomorrow, we were seeing you walking there" the bold one spoke up, haltingly. "Yesterday" I corrected. The girls had evidently been doing the same tourist round we were.

"Oh you were at Daulatabad fort" David realised.

More blank stares.

"Daulatabad" I translated David's Marathi into Marathi.

"Yes! I was there and I am looking" another girl finally got up the courage to speak, looking delighted at her own boldness in speaking English to a stranger. David stared at her, waiting to hear the rest of what seemed to him an incomplete sentence. But this was too much for her and she collapsed into a fit of giggles, hiding her face in her dupatta.

Scintillating though the conversation was, I decided that David had had enough female attention for one day and so we left.

More pictures : https://picasaweb.google.com/mugdha.bendre/Ajanta

Midnight ramblings

2011-01-28T22:51:00.000-08:00

They always say the best things in life are free. That is such a silly statement, it is the opposite of the truth. Far more accurate to say the best things in life are priceless. Available to everyone yet cannot be obtained at will, for all the money in the world.

Friendship, love, youth, wisdom, self esteem. And oh, a clear conscience.

India Trip Report - Ellora

2011-01-03T03:08:00.000-08:00

David and I visited India over the Christmas break. We went to Ajanta & Ellora with my parents for a couple of days and spent another three days in Goa. The rest of the time was devoted to family in Bombay.

Ajanta is the site of several rock cut cave monuments containing (what used to be) beautiful paintings and sculptures, mostly Buddhist religious art. Ellora is a series of temples carved out of the rock face of the adjoining hills. Ajanta is the older site, with some caves dating from 200 BC. Ellora is 5th - 10th century according to Wikipedia. Both - they are usually bracketed together - are very well known within India though less so outside India. All the India guide books recommend them but they probably qualify as ‘adventurous’ for the average foreign tourist. Primarily because they are in the middle of nowhere tourism-wise - unless you count the water wheel in Aurangabad. The caves of Ajanta are particularly worth a look with their majestic setting in the side of a sheer cliff, looking out into a peaceful valley. And one is not incessantly harassed unlike the more popular tourist destinations in the north.

We flew in to Aurangabad which is the usual launching pad for a visit to Ajanta and Ellora. We went to Ellora on the first day in a hired car with a hired driver. It is less than an hour from Aurangabad while Ajanta is about twice as far. Both journeys are on crappy highways going through very rural country. You drive past several one horse (cow?) towns, sugarcane and cotton fields and countryside that is very green but in a burnt, dusty sort of way. The villages look painfully small and sparse, the huts tiny and primitive. However the inhabitants are not badly off. I base this on the fact that the cattle all looked healthy, well fed and content with life. In fact their horns were painted bright colours so they looked positively festive. It is an interesting drive if you have the mental discipline to ignore the insane maneuvering of both your own driver as well as the car careening towards you down the not-quite-2-lane highway.

The temples of Ellora are a wonderful sight despite their centuries long exposure to the elements. They must have been truly magnificent back when the statues still had noses and mouths. Interestingly the site has temples devoted to all three major religions born in India - Jainism, Buddhism and Hinduism. Of these the Kailash temple is the largest, best preserved and most famous. A two storey temple, twice the area of the Parthenon and carved out of a single rock 1200 years ago. So, an impressive sight.

In some parts we noticed a couple of patches of surviving paint. No dull browns these, the paint is startlingly bright greens and blues. Curious to realise that the original brightly painted, gay facades bear little resemblance to the dignified sand coloured columns associated with Hindu temple sculpture today.

A History channel program made the same point about Roman architecture: the noble marble structures we admire so much were once painted in gaudy colours. Our ancestors were not afraid of colour.

An enjoyable visit, but slightly marred by the presence of several school trips. Hordes of giggling girls and shouting boys did not enhance the atmosphere.

On our way back to town we stopped at Daulatabad Fort, one of those famously impenetrable medieval forts. Flashback to high school history class - In the 1300s the crazy Tughlaq ruler decided to move his empire's capital from Delhi to Daulatabad. Nothing wrong with that, except he took the ‘moving’ part literally and marched the entire population of Delhi 700 miles south to the new capital which did not have even an adequate water supply. Much misery and death ensued. Usually this fort is precisely the kind of place I enjoy scrambling around in, but I was tired by the time we got there so we only spent a short time there.

Rest of the pictures at : https://picasaweb.google.com/mugdha.bendre/Ellora

Why I don't watch the news

2010-01-14T19:44:00.001-08:00

Exhibit A: A clip from Campbell Brown's program on CNN : A correspondent in Haiti is outside a building which had several people still buried under the rubble and people working round the clock to rescue them. One man had been found alive but trapped under the rubble and rescuers were struggling to get him out. The correspondent told us that she managed to get a microphone to the trapped man, and asked him "What is going through your mind right now?" He answered "I pray that you are able to rescue me in time".

Wow, breaking news indeed.

Someone at CNN thought - "sure there's a devastating earthquake and tens of thousands of people have perished, millions are homeless and starving. But that's just meaningless statistics, our viewers can't comprehend that.. how do we make it personal and interesting for them? I know, lets ask a dying man what's on his mind. And report his response in our most earnest, breaking news voice - pretending that it provides some unique insight." There's got to be a term for this attempt to use meaningless sentimentality to bring home the magnitude of a great tragedy.. kind of like "gilding the lily" but the exact opposite.

And yes, I really don't watch the news. I caught this particular bit on Sirius satellite radio. And no, I don't pay for satellite radio either, I got a 6 month free subscription with my new car. It's pretty good though, it has every possible channel anyone could ever want. All the ads are for truck drivers though.

"Spraying skunk venom on a turd"? Not catchy enough...

Avatar

2010-01-04T20:34:00.000-08:00

We saw Avatar this weekend. The trailers had been quite enticing and I knew there was lots of CGI eye candy, but reviews had mostly dissed the story. So while my interest level was high, expectations were set fairly low.

As it turns out, I kind of enjoyed the movie. The alien universe is well imagined, the graphics are amazing, the plot is tight (if predictable) and the action is engrossing. The lead characters did a decent job with the acting and the computer generated characters emote even more realistically. And a shout out to Michelle Rodriquez - Ana Lucia from Lost - who plays essentially an Ana Lucia clone, but does it very well.

So yes, an enjoyable movie - as long as one doesn't over analyze it. But since I'm blogging about the movie, you've probably already guessed that I over analyzed it.

To be fair, if this had just been a run of the mill action flick, I would have left off the analyzing. But James Cameron makes it clear that it is much more - a moral lesson, an allegorical tale, a political statement. And hence, fair game.

Let's start with Hollywood's favourite cliche - the hero single handedly saving the day. It is particularly galling in this movie which purports to be a jab at American colonialism and arrogance. The swaggering colonel and the greedy CEO (humans) look down on the natives (aliens). Their sole goal is to exploit the native land. They make no attempt to understand the natives, underestimate them and treat them with utter contempt and condescension. Terrible, terrible - and we all get to snicker and look down upon the humans. Yet in the end the natives are incapable of defending themselves. It is the good hearted human hero who charges to the rescue, protects the guileless aliens, defeats the evil humans, picks up the prettiest alien female and becomes leader of the tribe. A modern day Lawrence of Arabia with all the accompanying unconscious colonial arrogance.

Speaking of Hollywood touches, the climax is seriously unbelievable... A bravehearted group of patriots, riding hard, swinging swords and shooting arrows descends on a modern army equipped with big guns. Seriously? That tactic was tried in 1854 - it didn't work then, and the guns have only gotten bigger since.

And then there is the movie's main message. Quite clearly, it is all about conserving the environment and respecting nature. Don't get me wrong, I completely support this. However the movie takes it one step too far and sets up a false dichotomy between nature and technology. Right? Or am I imagining that? I felt it as an undercurrent through the movie. Uniformed soldiers and brute machines are juxtaposed against an idyllic, green paradise where everyone lives in harmony with nature. The humans mine expensive minerals (unobtanium?!) and bring in tanks and giant metallic robots. The aliens live in trees, worship trees, and commune with all living creatures - literally, via some convenient mind-melding appendage on their heads. The humans dismiss all this as "that tree hugging crap". The aliens need nothing the humans can bring them, all their simple needs are met by the beautiful forest in which they live. Hey, who needs technology when you can defeat tanks and airborne missiles with arrows and large birds. All nice and sweet and uplifting, and... kind of rings hollow. Like watching a National Geographic documentary full of naked kids deep in some African desert and sighing over the simplicity and romance of their lifestyle.

Quite possibly I'm reading too much into the movie. But it always riles me when people glorify nature by belittling technology. In my mind that is a false dichotomy - science is the most beautiful miracle of nature (and naked kids in African deserts can actually have miserable lives). And I find it a little sad that a movie only made possible by the latest, most sophisticated computer animation cannot find enough space in its heart for a little technology.

Oh, and George Bush has been out of office for a year - so references to "shock and awe" and "preemption" are no longer topical commentary. They are merely a pathetic reminder of how nice it would be if only the Democrats could grow a spine.

Thought for the day

2009-09-21T16:07:00.001-07:00

So much of life depends on asking the right questions....

A long trip

2009-08-30T20:58:00.000-07:00

Seen in a recent Facebook status message: "Going to a 90's themed party this weekend! Trying to remember what I wore back then".

Excuse me?! A 90's themed party? Boy, I feel old. Maybe Facebook should have age appropriateness filters for its news feeds. Something like "Trust me, reading this will only make you reach for a tub of ice cream". To me the 90's feel like just the other day, I am always caught by surprise when I do the math and realise how many years it has been. Or when I indulge in nostalgia and realise how far back my memories go...

Far back indeed, to times and people that are nearly forgotten unless I go searching for them. Things I expected to remember always, like the time I spent in Bangalore. Right after college and before I went to grad school in New York, I spent some time working in Bangalore. It was my first time living away from home. I was looking forward to the experience and the freedom. The experience was interesting, although the freedom was a little wanting.

As a young, single woman, you see, living alone was quite out of the question. And since I didn't have any friends to share a house with, my best option was a PG (paying guest) accommodation. In theory, this meant living with a family in their house - occupying a bedroom, sharing the family meals - you know, sort of like a guest, except paying for it. In practice, this picture turned out to be somewhat optimistic. Paying guest accommodations were a lucrative business in Bangalore, since a large number of single people migrated there for work and college. And so people tried to maximise their opportunity. Most of the places I saw accommodated several girls in a single room. Beds were lined up along all the walls, 5 or 6 to a room, with some more in the hallway shielded by a thin curtain for privacy.

I saw such appalling places that Mrs C's house seemed like a veritable luxury. She lived in a very quiet, pleasant and upscale neighbourhood. A simple 2 story bungalow in a cul de sac. "Aunty-ji" was a cultured, well spoken, military widow about 75 years old. She was clearly a cut above all the other landladies I had encountered. The living quarters consisted of three bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs, that were shared by 7 women. By now I had realised that this was about as good as it would get, and signed on immediately. I moved in the next day and Aunty-ji became my landlady.

Aunty-ji was a very interesting person, and I always respected her. If I felt no warmer emotion, the fault was not mine. She had lived a full life and in her benevolent moments she would tell us stories. The time she been brought out to sing in front of Mahatma Gandhi, an eight year old girl with an angelic voice. The picture of her as a school girl giving something to (or was it receiving something from) then Prime Minister Nehru. How she and her family were living in Lahore before independence, and had to flee when the partition happened. And her brother, an airforce pilot, commandeered a military plane and flew them out to India with 'nothing but the clothes on their backs'.

We respected her for her forceful personality and her fierce independence. She was determined to earn her own keep, although she had two wealthy children who could look after her very well. So she opened her house up to paying guests, and taught music lessons in her garage. She took no nonsense from anyone, stood strong on her principles and usually got what she wanted.

But while admiring her in the abstract, we objected to many of the particulars. She had an overbearing personality and a fickle temper. She was snobbish and looked down on many of her "girls" as not being her social equals. To hear her, you'd think she was doing charity work - giving home and shelter to young women out of the kindness of her heart, and the rent was a purely nominal business. Worst of all was her inexcusable prejudice against South Indians, ridiculous considering she had spent most of her life living in - South India. She would often pass snide remarks about their collective character, hygiene and courage. And how it was the North Indians who fought for independence and all the subsequent wars. On the one hand I was disgusted by her views, on the other a lifetime's ingrained values made it literally impossible for me to remonstrate with someone her age.

It was ironic that the girl who most liked her and always stood up for her was from Kerala. For a time, we had three sophisticated Punjabi girls living with us and Aunty was thrilled to bits about it. She would talk to them in Punjabi, share jokes and discuss food and was downright rude to the Keralite. The Punjabi girls were disgusted by the accommodations and the rules, told us we were silly to put up with it all and left within a couple of months. Aunty was crushed and forced to fall back on her unwilling friendship with the Keralite. I got along fine with her, being neither from the north nor the south and although no socialite, my family background was graciously deemed good enough.

But to truly understand our relationship, you have to hear about the rules. We had to be home by 10pm and we could never have visitors. We weren't allowed to eat any food in our bedrooms, only in the kitchen. Which would be fine if only Aunty didn't hover over us lustily watching us eat all the stuff she wasn't permitted to. We weren't allowed to come in the front door, only through the back door and we had to take our shoes off and walk barefoot up to our rooms. And we weren't supposed to ever run the taps, just fill up a cup of water and use that to brush our teeth. Fill a bucket of water to bathe with, never run the shower.

It is fair to say that we regularly broke every one of those rules. But they did make life exciting, an evening snack of samosas felt so much tastier when I had smuggled them in under a sweater, while another girl distracted Aunty with conversation. And I was going to use as much water as I needed for my daily ablutions, rules be damned! Alright at this point I have to admit - through gritted teeth - that Aunty had a point. Her rules were conceived for the silliest, slyest girls and she must have seen lots of those through the years. It's very annoying to see prejudices come true, but I have to admit that my fellow-PGs occasionally justified her stupidest rules with their actions. There was the girl who constantly ate in bed, leaving crumbs scattered all over and under the bed. And then there was the girl who couldn't turn off the bathroom tap, and so simply left it running and walked out of the house! In a short while water was pouring down the stairs.

Oh but the antics of the other girls are a whole new story, and I'll leave them for another day.

It was a pity about Aunty though, she was good and she was lonely. She was surrounded by people, yet she put up a wall between herself and us - a wall of arbitrary rules, pride and prejudice.

Of futile gestures

2009-08-16T21:40:00.000-07:00

Isn't it funny the memories that pop into one's mind when one is sitting around on a lazy weekend afternoon! Today I suddenly remembered an incident from when I was in college in Pune, living with my parents.

One weekend morning, our cleaning lady brought her daughter along when she came to clean our house. The girl was about 10 or 11 years old. She did some minor tasks for her mother, but mostly she just wandered around the house, drinking in the novelty of it all. I was in my room brushing my hair when I noticed her in the doorway. She was trying to be unobtrusive but was clearly immensely interested in me and my room. She stood there watching me with a mixture of curiosity, admiration and envy. I invited her in and chatted with her a little. I can't remember what we talked about, only that she was very pleased and excited at the attention. So I gave her a bottle of nail polish from my dressing table. She was thrilled to bits by the gift and ran off excitedly. Which of course made me feel quite good about myself, all generous and kindly.

A few days later, I noticed a red stain on the steps outside our house and pointed it out to my mother. She told me it was the nail polish. The girl was showing it off to her mother as they left, and dropped it on the stairs. Someone had cleaned off the mess but the stain remained. I remembered the girl, so pleased and excited and proud of her gift, and I imagined how she must have felt when she dropped that bottle right as she left. Too late for me to see it happen and too soon for her to have got even a minute's use out of it.

She never came to our house again, at least not while I was around. So I couldn't give her a new one. Perhaps I should have sent one through her mother but that seemed strangely inappropriate - like placing too high a value on my own trivial gift. Or maybe I was just too shy to make a deliberate present like that and talked myself out of it. But I would wince every time I passed that stain on the stair, imagining a little girl's bitter - if fleeting - disappointment.

The girl - I knew her name at the time - was married off when she was 15 or 16 years old. Today she probably cleans houses like her mother did, probably has a litter of kids to feed, and very probably a husband who comes home drunk and beats her up. It is safe to say that she has long forgotten that incident - likely drowned out in her memory by other, more weighty disappointments. Why then does it still come back to me occasionally? And each time I feel her disappointment (as imagined by me) in the pit of my stomach and my heart turns to lead. In vast disproportion to the actual incident - I wonder why. Perhaps it is my own disappointment, at my failure to make even the smallest improvement to her life. Or maybe it's the reminder of just how cruel the gods of fate can be - not content with robbing us of the great happinesses of life, sometimes they take particularly malicious pleasure in depriving us of the small trivial joys.

Welcome to the 20th century!

2009-07-02T14:21:00.000-07:00

In what newspapers invariably refer to as a "landmark judgment", the Delhi High Court legalized homosexuality. Now the ball is in the government's court (so to speak). The law criminalizing homosexuality was written 150 yrs ago during the British Raj. In the last few weeks the newly elected Indian government has been making noises about this law. First they said that it was clearly absurd in this day and age. Then they backtracked and talked of commissions, and parliamentary discussions. This decision has clearly forced their hands, and it will be interesting to see whether the government has the balls to rewrite the law.

Hurray for the judiciary!

A Woman Scorned

2009-06-28T21:31:00.000-07:00

Pet peeve #316

We all know how this plays out. A (American) politician cheats on his wife, gets caught and is splashed across the front pages of newspapers across the country. Then he gets up in front of a mike, talks about what an idiot he was and how great his family is and how lucky he is that his wife has forgiven him. And there standing right behind him is the forgiving wife. They are going to emerge from this tough time stronger than ever. And every time I want to throw my shoes at the TV (or I would, if I ever watched the news on TV instead of reading it on Google News).
I hate to be judgmental... actually I love to be judgmental, so I shall - grow a backbone, lady! He completely disregards your feelings, cheats on you, and then uses you as a prop to salvage his career. Why would you put up with that! Surely, surely, in the 21st century it is acceptable for a woman to put her foot down and stand up for her own dignity?!

And so, it was a pleasant surprise to see Jenny Sanford, the South Carolina governor's wife, break from the script. True, she hasn't left him yet and she suggests that it is still possible for them to work things out. But at least she doesn't pretend to take adultery in her stride. She isn't standing by her man promising to pray her way out. She is at a vacation home with her children., having kicked her husband out. When the press asked her about him, she said "His career is not my concern". You go girl!

Oh, and how bizarre was this whole story!

Bay to Breakers

2009-05-17T18:06:00.000-07:00

Yay! I did the Bay to Breakers this year.

Actually, I feel a little guilty claiming that. We were part of what Wikipedia calls "Large numbers of participants walk the route behind the runners". Sree and Farhan, our fitter friends, ran the race. While David & I (because of me) walked, alongside all the fancy dressed people. So it was more like a long tiring hike/halloween street party.

But a really fun hike! Bay to Breakers is known for its quirky participants, and we got a great view of all the cool stuff. The guys dressed up as Spongebob Squarepants, the several dozen swine flu costumes, the salmon runners who start from the finish line and "swim upwards" through the race. Have to admire all these people, it was a very hot day (first one I've seen in San Francisco!) and walking 7.5 miles in those elaborate costumes is a real test of endurance.

And of course, there were the brave "Bare to Breakers". I hope they took sfgate.com's advice and slathered on the sunscreen! Why is it that nudists are so often the people who most need to cover up? For a long stretch, my main view was a man's floppy naked butt. Hmm, considering the alternative maybe I shouldn't complain.

My digital camera's seized up, so I had to settle for iPhone pictures. And very soon after the start, I was too tired to care about taking pictures. So these are quite lame and have no fun costumes.. but they stand as proof of my participation. The only way you could take such lousy pictures is if you were in the thick of things!

At the start line

Sea of humanity racing up the steepest part (and bonus shot of David striding up the road)

I will probably be limping all week, but it was totally worth it!

One finger salute

2009-05-16T16:14:00.000-07:00

Congress won the Indian elections! They showed a surprisingly good performance with almost an absolute majority. I'm not exactly jumping up and down cheering (like Vanity Fair, Indian politics is a story without heroes). But this is still good news.

For one thing, it almost doesn't matter who is in charge in Delhi if we could just get some stability! The last several administrations have been coalition governments - precarious, unlikely alliances between the strangest bed-mates politics ever made. And with so many different parties to please it is incredibly hard to get anything done. It was galling to think that the Prime Minister had to run his policies by a bunch of marxist communists (unfortunately, this is not an epithet, simply the name of their party). The Congress will still need allies but it has far more seats in Parliament than it did 5 years ago, so it doesn't need them as badly as it did in the previous government. And while I'm not a fan of Manmohan Singh, he feels like a boon from the gods compared to some other names being thrown around recently.

Also it's good to see the BJP put in their place. Oh, sooo good! The way they went around talking about national security and terrorism, bemoaning the Congress on being "soft on terror". It is nice being the party in Opposition, isn't it - you can thunder on about what you would have done, while secretly thanking your stars you weren't in charge. Let's just say the BJP's record on terrorism is... less than stellar. Even if you discount the domestic terrorism they themselves instigated.

Overall, I think the election results showed amazing maturity and wisdom on the part of the electorate. Ah, it is awesome to see any large mass of humanity behave rationally!

And now, on a lighter note

Usually, when you vote in India, they put an indelible ink stain on your forefinger so you can't vote again. Displaying that ink stained finger makes a great photo-op for politicians and celebrities on election day

For some reason the election officials in Mumbai decided to stain the middle finger instead. Here's the Bachchan family, clearly enjoying themselves :)

Other, more image conscious movie stars resisted the temptation

And then there were the ones who clearly had no idea that gesture meant anything special

Coming from a politician on election day... sometimes an image truly says a thousand words.

So it isn't actually green?

2009-05-02T23:22:00.000-07:00

No it isn't, turns out it's white. But it says "Permanent Resident Card" at the top alright.

For several years now, the 'temporary' aspect of the H1-B visa has hung threateningly over my life and my career decisions. And now I am finally accepted as a permanent resident of the country where I have spent almost my whole adult life.

Also, it is one more check mark on the standard NRI success checklist - grad school? check. married? check. green card? check.

So I ought to feel happy. And I did too, for a moment. My first thought was "Wow, I could take a break from work if I wanted". My second thought was "Damn, I can't! I need the health insurance." And so life goes on..

Age is a strange thing

2009-03-25T22:24:00.000-07:00

I really looked forward to every birthday until my 21st one. I was growing up, and each new year was a new milestone! Then on my 22nd birthday, I suddenly thought - its all downhill from here. Yes my friends, I have been feeling old ever since I turned 22. Each subsequent birthday was more dreaded than the previous.. I'm no longer in my early 20s, I'm over 25, OMG! I'm 27 and still single!!

Then I turned 28. I was at a low point in my life ... stagnating in a dead end job, at a company rapidly running out of money, in the meantime they wouldn't even apply for a green card and the clock was running out on my H1. Even my boss asked me what I was still doing there! My personal life was even worse, had just worked off some entanglements that left me free but oh so lonely. And as I turned 28, I had an epiphany - "This could be it. There is a real chance that I may die alone." Funny, but I had never considered the possibility before - and it was a strange, intensely deeply lonely feeling. Heart felt like lead, blood turned cold. And I treated myself to a weekend getaway - a nice, romantic getaway, all by myself.

Of course, when you've hit rock bottom, there's nowhere to go but up. I found another job, eventually even stumbled on to a boyfriend somehow.

29 was very different. Somehow 29 didn't seem much older than 28, it actually felt younger. This was the last year in my 20s. A 29 yr old is someone who isn't 30. I must have used the phrase "in my 20s" a thousand times that year!

Eventually of course, I was forced to turn 30. At that point, I enjoyed my birthday, but developed a healthy mental block towards my age. Seriously, sometimes I genuinely forget how old I am, and have to do some quick mental arithmetic! Ah well, I am happy to stay in this blissful state as long as I can. I suppose around 38 or so I will start panicking about turning 40.

I have no idea why I thought this was worth blogging about. But now that I've written it up I will have to post it.

Anniversaries...

2009-03-22T22:27:00.000-07:00

This has been a month for anniversaries - married for a year... working at Google for three... March is a nice month.

We went to Santa Barbara for our wedding anniversary. A place that has meant very different things to me at different times in life -- strange how events work out...

It was a very nice weekend, warm and sunny except when the breeze picked up. Santa Barbara has some very attractive houses - not just large and grand, but unique, quirky and imaginative that somehow feel quite authentic. There was a definite "southern California" air to the place, particularly close to the beach.

We also went down to the Santa Barbara Mission, quite a nice building. I have lived in California all these years, without really understanding what these "Missions" were all about. It turns out the Spanish built Christian missions down the coast from San Francisco to Mexico, to bring Christianity to the heathens. Or the heathens to Christianity, if you prefer.

As I stood there in Santa Barbara Mission, reading about its history, the conversion and "education" of local Indians, I couldn't help thinking: thank God the practical British were more into trade than religion. Less of that religious zeal than the Portugese and Spanish. I shudder to think what India would have looked like after two centuries of coerced conversion.

Oh well, back to the present.

The Santa Barbara courthouse is a surprisingly interesting and pretty building, with some very attractive interiors. Far better than the average bureaucratic outpost.

On our way back, we stopped at Solvang, which is a mildly interesting, touristy, fake Danish town.

And I can finally say that I have been to Santa Barbara.

A Wednesday

2009-03-03T23:37:00.001-08:00

I finally watched 'A Wednesday'. Interesting movie, awful name, some cringe-worthy moments - for instance the over zealous cops. Overall, it was better made than most Hindi movies.

But of course, what people were talking about was not the quality of the production, but the questions it posed. Particularly poignant is the fact that it came out less than 3 months before the November attacks on Mumbai. I believe it captured the mood of the country perfectly. It clearly raised all the right questions. Now, if only someone would make a movie with all the answers!

Here's a Hemingway-esque short story for you: Wikipedia article for "13 September 2008 Delhi bombings" starts with "Not to be confused with 27 September 2008 Delhi blast".

My upcoming exam

2009-02-22T23:20:00.000-08:00

We are coming up on our first wedding anniversary. We are also coming up on our green card interview. I'm not sure what to expect, but apparently if they suspect that the marriage is fradulent -- they put us in separate rooms and quiz us about our marriage.

Hmm, that sounds uncomfortable.. but what would be really awkward is if I couldn't answer the questions!
Where was he born? Where did you go on your first date? What did he have for breakfast yesterday? What's his favorite music band? What color are the walls in your bedroom? (I swear I looked around the house to double check the answer) What gifts did you give each other for your birthdays? (Uh, nothing...) Who does most of the cooking? (Umm, did you mean who defrosts the pizzas?)

Will the immigration officer pass judgment on the genuiness of my marriage -- or on my fitness as a wife? Are any of us ready to have our marriages examined by total strangers?

Tempests in Teapots

2009-02-22T20:23:00.000-08:00

A British director makes a movie based in the slums of Mumbai, and self righteous Mumbaikars accuse him of 'peddling poverty porn'. As if hundreds of Hindi movies haven't dwelt on the exact same storyline. And as if the poverty needs peddling, as if it isn't right there, in your face -- on street corners, waiting at each intersection, squatting along train tracks.

In the movie, several very nasty characters scornfully refer to the hero as a 'slumdog' - and slumdwellers associations are up in arms! The irony of being offended by a term invented precisely to highlight the callousness of the characters using it.. is lost on them.

The New York Post printed a really nasty cartoon. A man with a smoking gun, a bullet ridden monkey corpse -- all this parodying the horrible mauling of a woman! Yes, a seriously disturbing cartoon. But racist? Give me a break! The stimulus bill has been roundly criticized by Republican types, but the bulk of the blame has been on Congress. If anything, the cartoonist was calling Nancy Pelosi a crazy chimpanzee, not Barack Obama. To jump from this image to racism to a call for violence against Obama is just plain ridiculous.

Ah well, the sillier the cause, the louder the protestors.

I am glad A.R.Rahman won at the Oscars today -- he has singlehandedly transformed Hindi film music over the last 15 years. My only complaint is that the quality of the lyrics is inversely proportional to the quality of the music.

Epiphany time

2009-01-19T19:35:00.000-08:00

Hmm, I've never really known the US under any other president. Tomorrow is going to be a strange day.

I wonder how long the magic will last.

Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me, The Daily Show and Real Time are all going to get a lot less funny.

I was watching a documentary about Dr King yesterday, and was struck by the parallels with Gandhi's struggle. You know something really weird - it doesn't take any more bullets to kill a great man than it does to kill an ordinary one.

WTF

2008-11-28T21:25:00.000-08:00

Two and a half years ago, I wrote a blistering blog post ranting about Indian politicians. Yet again, they had allowed disaster to hit Bombay, and yet again their response was ridiculously inadequate. Well, here we go again...

Allow me to recap:

In 1993, Dawood Ibrahim and his thugs blew up 250 people, and injured thousands. Mumbaikars reacted like heroes, ordinary citizens rushed to help the injured. The next day everybody went about their jobs as usual, they were not going to let the biggest terrorism attack in India stop them.
Our wonderful government responded by
(a) praising the 'resilience' of Mumbaikars and
(b) whining about how Dawood Ibrahim was the mastermind behind the attacks, but Pakistan was sheltering him.

In 2005, unprecedented rainfall caused massive flooding , leaving hundreds dead, widespread property damage and a paralyzed city. Mumbaikars reacted like heroes. Ordinary citizens organized rescue attempts, and lined the streets providing food, water and shelter to stranded folks.
Our wonderful government responded by
(a) praising the 'spirit of Mumbai'
(b) acting surprised that it was possible for this amount of rainfall to occur (it had only occured seven times before)
(c) acting surprised that such rain could cause so much damage in a city that is damaged every year by regular rainfall
(d) acting surprised that they were expected to have a plan to deal with it
(e) claiming that it was unrealistic to expect the disaster management team to get together during ... a disaster.

In 2006, a whole new generation of terrorists brought bombs to Mumbai, this time in trains. As in any large city, the public transportation system is the lifeblood of Mumbai. A bomb in a train is a truly egalitarian bomb, it targets rich and poor, Hindu and Muslim, men and women, college students and retirees. By now Mumbaikars knew the routine. They pulled bodies out of trains, drove the injured to hospitals, and streamed out into the streets to help the affected.
They told each other how resilient they were and boasted of the spirit of Mumbai, and talked about how they would all go back to work the next morning. The stock exchange shot up to prove its confidence in Mumbai.
Nobody particularly expected the government to do or say anything. But out of a sense of obligation, the government went through its old tired routine
(a) praise resilience
(b) blame the Pakistani Intelligence Service (ISI), indulge in some blustering and empty threats.
(c) announce large sums in compensation to victims and their families.
(d) wait for commotion to die down and carry on as always.

This time is different. I feel it in my bones.

For one thing this long, drawn out standoff -- in the full glare of international media -- has been a public humiliation for India. Our myth as an up and coming superpower was busted. I have the greatest respect for our troops and national security guards and they acted with great courage. But as the 3 day drama unfolded, it was abundantly clear to anyone with a TV, that we were completely out of our league. A handful of boys with guns landed in our largest city with bags full of explosives. They marched into our fanciest hotels and shot our rich and powerful at will. They wandered from one murderous job to another, completely unmolested. They hijacked a police van - a police van for crying out loud! They took a small building with maybe 10 hostages and it took us two days and six lives to free that building. They wandered around shooting up our most famous hotel for three days, and we were powerless to stop them, free the people inside, or even know whether the hotel was safe. A handful of boys with guns kept our commercial capital hostage for 3 days.

Nobody had the luxury of surprise this time around. Bombay has been struck twice before. There have been several terrorist attacks all over India this year. There was no excuse for the complete lack of forewarning, the complete lack of security and the completely shoddy response.

And of course, the targeting of foreign nationals has a clear psychological impact. It will definitely erode international confidence and cause real and lasting financial damage.

Most importantly, when the politicians go up on stage to offer another round of platitudes, they will find that the resilience of Mumbaikars has worn thin. They are finally tired of walking around wondering what will blow up next.

I hope that tomorrow, instead of going back to work as usual, Mumbaikars come out in the streets and go on strike. I hope they remind the government that its first job is to protect its citizens. Above all, I hope they remember that they are citizens of a democracy. Which means that they are the government and are ultimately responsible for all its failings and when the government is broken, it is their job to fix it.

November 4, 2008

2008-11-04T20:29:00.000-08:00

It was 10 pm Pacific time. I was at a friend's house, watching the election results come in on her crappy TV (no cable; just scratchy, over the air network television). She had gone to bed but I stayed up, fingers crossed, switching channels, hoping against hope. And then, they called Ohio. Ohio went for Bush, Florida went for Bush, and before my unbelieving eyes, Americans elected Bush to the White House for four more years. This time around there was no excuse, no hanging chads, no partisan judges. Americans had voluntarily and decisively brought Bush back into power. And I went to bed, a little sad, a little worried and a lot disappointed.

Tonight was very different. The clock struck 8, polls on the Pacific coast closed, and instantly, CNN handed CA, WA and OR to Obama, and declared him "President Elect". Obama wins by a landslide, with more than twice the electoral votes McCain received. However he has a heavy burden on his shoulders. Extremely high expectations that perhaps no one can live up to. He has won the campaign and now the real challenge starts, and he will need to prove that he can act as well as he talks. There may well be disappointment in our future.

But for tonight, I am going to bed a little happy and a little proud, my faith in humanity a little restored.

Let's pretend this is my diary

2008-11-01T18:05:00.000-07:00

It is 6pm on a lazy, rainy Saturday in November -- and this is going to be one of those stream of consciousness posts. You have been warned.

I have missed out on several blogging opportunities this year. I did not blog about the upcoming elections, or my recent trip to Greece, or about sunny San Diego or my friend's newborn kid or another friend's wedding. For that matter, I did not even blog about my own wedding or honeymoon! And now, it is too late. The window of opportunity has passed, along with the window of enthusiasm. Instead, here I am, with itching fingertips, yet no stories left to tell. But I can't turn away, the desire to talk, to say something -- is too great. My heart is filled with that strange emotion I can never find a name for, but which comes over me every once in a while. You know what I mean -- the sort of feeling that engulfs you when you are sitting around a campfire in the middle of the night. Or in a rocking chair by the window on a rainy evening. You want to speak so badly, speak about serious things -- not silly stuff -- but stuff you rarely out loud. In fact, things you just don't know how to say out loud, you feel them inside of yourself, but you lack the language to articulate them.

It has been a strange week, I have seen myself reflected in different people's eyes, and am left wondering who I am. Who I am, who I am pretending to be, and who I want to be.

And just as I write this, my husband comes scurrying in like an excited school boy. He wants to show me what he just made - a wood threading tool. Except the demo doesn't work quite so well, and he goes back to his woodshop, still excited but a little subdued.

And I'm sure there is a great moral lesson I can draw from all this, but I have no idea what it could be.

Touchy topics..

2008-10-12T10:16:00.000-07:00

Facebook should really learn not to insult its users.

Here's the ad it showed me today:

"I am 87 yrs old, but I look 67! Thanks to Vogue Wrinkle remover"

Thanks, but no thanks :)

2008-08-14T21:50:00.000-07:00

I've been lying in bed sick the last few days.. entertaining myself with an HBO historical mini-series John Adams. David didn't care for it, he thinks it "strange".

The drama is of course about the life of America's second President, John Adams, starting shortly before the American revolution and ending with him being elected President. I liked it, I don't mind slow movies, and I love historical dramas. But as I watched the revolutionary war unfold, the main thought that went through my mind was - Thank God for Mahatma Gandhi.

Seriously, I have never given much thought to non-violence. But while watching the movie, I realised the immense moral burden of unleashing death and destruction, even in a just cause. You are supposed to root for the revolutionaries, but I felt the anguish of the pacifists too. And I am truly glad that Indian independence was not bought at such a moral cost. You know, it's become quite the fashion in India to demean Gandhiji, but he was quite the guy!

And since tomorrow (or today, depending on where you are) is August 15th, I'll leave you with a couple of thoughts..

Vande Mataram

and

Doordarshan occasionally did not suck

Sweetest XKCD strip ...

2008-08-04T19:12:00.000-07:00

http://xkcd.com/458/

(Funniest xkcd strip ... http://xkcd.com/416/)

"Wear Sunscreen"

2008-07-25T22:16:00.000-07:00

I was not looking forward to going to work on Wednesday morning.
I had to give a presentation on Thursday afternoon. A presentation I had a serious mental block about. Which meant that I had done no preparation. Which in turn meant that in addition to the mental block, I now had a healthy dose of stress. And disappointingly enough, none of the other work I was procrastinating on had magically disappeared.

So yes, I wanted to crawl back in to bed.

And right then I found an announcement in my email: Peter Sagal's talk will be at 12:30 pm. Peter Sagal? Peter Sagal of "Wait Wait, don't tell me" fame was coming to Google??

Since I am reasonably sure that none of you know what "Wait Wait, don't tell me" is, this needs some background.

WWDTM is my newest guilty pleasure. It started out as a casual, occasional weekend fling. My car radio is tuned to NPR all the time. And if I was ever driving around between 11 and 12 on a Saturday morning, I would catch snippets of a mildly amusing news quiz show. The more I listened to it, the more I liked it - and soon I started planning my errands on Saturday around the show. Then came the fateful day when I realised I could get the show's podcast. It was a godsend! An excellent way to amuse myself while doing mundane tasks around the house, it almost made me look forward to cleaning and washing dishes! And in recent months I have become completely addicted to the show. To the point where I have listened to the last 3 years of archives. To the point where I have seriously contemplated flying to Chicago, just to watch a taping of the show.

So yes, I was excited to see that the host of the show would be at Google. He is a great host and very witty. Recently I discovered his blog, and he came off as a thoughtful and likable person as well. The idea that I would get to see him in person made my day.

The talk was one of the better attended talks at Google. I am clearly not the only NPR junkie in town. Peter Sagal did not disappoint in person. He started off with some Google jokes, at the same time telling us how much he loved our products. I don't know if he really likes them or he was just being polite.. but I enjoyed the needling about "Googlers" and "Googly". To an outsider, those terms must be seriously cringe-worthy. I know I cringed the first time I heard them! [You get used to it, though I have never used the word Googly myself - atleast, not without mental "air quotes"]
He then went on to read us some excerpts from his book. They were quite funny but sometimes a little hard to follow... wordy comedy like that needs to be read rather than read aloud. And then several people aske him about WWDTM. He told us about how Gene Simmons from KISS appeared on his show and was a complete a**hole. Apparently Gene Simmons was equally bad with Terri Gross [never mind, she's another NPR personality who you will be perfectly satisfied to know nothing about]. He told us about how he hates Clippy, the Microsoft Office animated paper clip, and how they fantasized about a gangland execution of Clippy on the show one time. I remember that show, it was a great bit.

All in all, I am thrilled that I got a chance to finally see him in person. If my colleague with the big camera had attended, I would have had a few pictures of the talk to post here. Oh well.

I still want to watch a taping of the show though.

By the way, the blog title has nothing to do with this blog post. I just really like the Wear Sunscreen speech. What do you mean: what Wear Sunscreen speech? Look it up - I hear there's this wonderful website called "Google".

Yet another Web 2.0 parody

2007-12-06T22:31:00.000-08:00

(but a funny one)

Here's a hilarious video made by some amateur geeky musicians. At least one of them works at Google (though I don't know him)

http://youtube.com/watch?v=fi4fzvQ6I-o

Even more geeky humour (this will ring depressingly true if you went to grad school in the US) :
http://www.phdcomics.com/comics.php

Mee Mazha

2007-11-25T00:52:00.000-08:00

You know the problem with Wikipedia?

Google is equally bad. I started off looking at wedding dresses online (P.S.: I want to look like this... or maybe like this)

Four hours of "fascinated clicking" later, I end up on a site for Mee Mazha. Before we go there though, I have to confess my secret shame. I have read very little Marathi literature. Very very little. True, the little I have read is really good. Some stories by P.L. Deshpande. A gigantic two part epic about Shivaji. And, of course, Mrityunjaya - the revisionist story about Karna. My parents were very surprised I made it through that book... they didn't realise that Karna was my favourite mythological character.

But other than those, the only Marathi book I ever read was a little pocket book collection of 4 line poems by Chandrashekhar Gokhale - Mee Mazha. Turns out, it's quite a popular little book, several people quote it online. Which is a good thing for me, because I can effortlessly copy from their sites on to mine, for your reading pleasure.

We'll skip the romantic ones shall we? Happy romantic poems are either trite or cringe-inducingly mushy. Poems about the loss of the loved one are less awful, since the poet has been hit by a healthy dose of reality.

The kind of poetry I like is the cynical type with a tinge of pathos.

इथे वेडे असन्याचे
खूप फायदे आहेत
शहाण्यान साठी ज़ग्ण्याचे
काटेकोर कायदे आहेत

[In this world there are many advantages to being mad. The so-called sane ones need to abide by very strict rules]

पाण्याच वाग्णं
किती विसंगत
पोहोणार्याला बुडवून
प्रेताला ठेवत तरंगत

[Water behaves very inconsistently. It drowns a swimmer, but makes the corpse float]

God, these sound morbid in English! If Chandrashekhar Gokhale were in school, he'd be put under psychological supervision!

Alright, here's one that's more ironic than morbid.

घराभोवती कुंपण हवं
म्हणजे आप्ल जग ठरवता येतं
बाहेर बर्बटलेलं अस्लंतरी
आपल्या पुरतं सावर्ता येतं

[This one is going to be slaughtered in the translation...
We build a fence around our homes, to mark out our world. So we can ignore the messiness outside, and keep our corner tidy.]

No smart exit line for today's post. Just the dawning realisation that globalization can kill cultures. And what shame it would be if my mother tongue died out...

The coalition of the reluctant

2007-11-25T00:12:00.000-08:00

The newest political casuality of Bush's war on terror... John Howard. The Australian PM, was defeated in what the BBC repeatedly referred to as a "landslide". In fact, last I heard, he's likely losing his own seat in Parliament. What a crushing humiliation for a sitting Prime Minister!!

And so it continues - Bush's poisonous association fells allies home and abroad. The House, the Senate, the United Kingdom, Australia... But no fear. Bush has promised that as long as Laura and Barney (his dog) are on his side, he's fine. No guilty conscience keeps him awake. He can sleep the blissful sleep of the empty-minded.

As for the rest of us, we can celebrate another small victory for sanity.

Pet Peeve #5678: "Values Voters"

2007-10-20T22:27:00.000-07:00

"Values voters" - that was a term tossed around a lot during the 2004 elections, and now its back. All the Republican candidates are flip-flopping like crazy to woo the crucial value voters.

I have just one question - what the @#$!#$% hell are value voters? Since when are bashing gays and forcing women to have children considered "values"?? And what about the other values in life? Like you know, not torturing people, or invading countries for oil? How about not misleading a people into war, or not scaring them into giving up liberties?
I don't even buy the idea that religious people are the "value voters". I mean, doesn't being "Christian" mean having compassion for others? Caring for the poor and the needy? Judging not lest ye be judged?

All I can conclude is that the Republican party has the best PR machine ever. They've convinced the followers of Jesus they belong on the same team as the rich bloodsuckers. And they've convinced the mainstream media to adopt their ridiculous, dishonest characterization of the electorate.

Every age has its heroes

2007-10-08T23:44:00.000-07:00

(Despite what it sounds like, this is not a post about Yuvraj or Dhoni!)

I caught a rerun of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart (Comedy Central) tonight. An episode I'd missed last week. Usually the monologue's the best part, but tonight was different.
The interview was with Chris Matthews from Hardball (MSNBC?) Chris Matthews, who I've never watched, was promoting his new book - "Life's a campaign: What Politics Has Taught Me About Friendship, Rivalry, Reputation, and Success".

Now, I don't know about you - but when I saw that title, it didn't make me warm and fuzzy all over. "Life's a Campaign" is definitely not the moral lesson I want to pass down to my children. So I wasn't surprised when Jon started chaffing Chris about the title.

"It sounds like a recipe for sadness..."

But Chris disagreed vehemently, and it went downhill from there.

Ok, lets face it - went downhill for Chris, not for Jon and certainly not the audience. There was no shouting match, no fist fights, and both of them were laughing copiously throughout. But it was very uncomfortable laughter - Jon was laughing to take the edge off his remarks, while Chris was just laughing in disbelief. Throughout the interview, Jon didn't back off from his main position; he was polite but insistent. The book did not have a moral core. Political campaigns were a series of orchestrated, contrived, fake events. And telling people to treat life that way - to win by lying and pretending and attacking, was shallow and wrong. Chris, on the other hand, couldn't believe what was happening, he felt he'd been ambushed!

"You're trashing my book!"

"No, I'm trashing your philosophy of life"
...
"This is the worst book interview ever... Why don't you come on Hardball, two can play at this game!"

Jon's response? "I don't troll"

Does this remind you of anything? My introduction to Jon Stewart was the Crossfire interview he did a couple of years ago, where he told off Tucker Carlson. And I stumbled upon that while following Stephen Colbert's extremely ballsy act at the White House Correspondent's Dinner.
I could not get over either of those two videos! Here finally, finally, someone was talking sense. I wasn't crazy to hate network news, it wasn't weird when TV felt like an episode from Through the Looking Glass. There were others who felt the same way! And they were up there, saying it - very articulately and even funnily!
Now I'm a cynic, and I've often wondered about the motivation behind Jon's Crossfire interview. It paid off big time and clearly did wonders for his popularity. Was it yet another orchestrated display of insincere emotion? Was he just playing to his core audience? Maybe. Probably. But at the end of the day, I agreed with what he said and I liked the way he said it. What more can I ask for? A window into a stranger's soul?
Colbert's speech was far gutsier - roasting the President of your country when he's sitting five feet away? Performing before a live audience that you're alienating with every word? Of course, he must have hoped it would become a viral video sensation overnight.. But still, those must have been ten terrifying minutes.

Jon Stewart's show is very hit-and-miss in funniness. But his opinions are sound (or atleast, they agree with mine, which is essentially the same thing). Among all the talk shows I've seen, his - paradoxically, the comic one - stands out for its integrity, honesty and penetrating insight. (Remember, insight is not less penetrating because its expressed as a joke.) And it is pretty clear that a lot of young Americans agree with me. You see all these surveys about how the majority of youngsters are getting their news from Comedy Central these days. But you know what? I've watched Jon Stewart's five minute monologue, I've watched CNN's Headline news and I've watched Fox News' Weekend edition on Sundays. They all contain an equal amount of content. So why the hell not??

I know what you guys are thinking... Seriously, Mugdha? You're holding up a late night fake news comedy anchor as a hero? Well, you play with the cards you're dealt. I would much rather idolize a bright eyed young moral statesman or an idealistic resistance fighter. Even a brave athlete, who wins against all odds. But lets face it - all politicians have lost their wide eyed idealism before they get elected, all resistance fighters are corpulent dictators in the making, and most athletes are either doped up on steroids, knee deep in match fixing or just plain stupid.
I can see now why people got so excited about Gandhi - it is so rare to see an honest to goodness good man on the public stage. The last one I can think of is Nelson Mandela.
Maybe there will be another one in my lifetime.

Until then, I will have to settle for a 5'6" guy who does something very very rare. He comes on in front of a camera, and actually talks sense!

Jon Stewart, you're my hero!
(and Stephen Colbert, you too!)

Don't Tase Me, Bro!

2007-09-23T00:20:00.000-07:00

The problem with real life is that it doesn't make for a very good story. Take the recent case of the young man who was tasered at the University of Florida.

If that were fiction, it would be a simple yet captivating story, with police brutality, uncaring politicians and lots of scope for moral outrage. A college student was asking a politician some tough questions. "They" (whoever they are) wanted to muzzle him, and had him dragged away. He bravely stood up to them, refused to go quietly and so, the police - in an unparalleled example of abuse of power - tasered him.

Of course, real life is not fiction. It doesn't tie up quite so neatly. First, it was apparent even from the video that the student was a borderline nutcase. He was suggesting that Kerry threw the 2004 elections because of some massive Skull & Bones (a Yale student club) conspiracy. The audience seemed clearly irritated with his comments and he wasn't really asking questions. It also seemed like he had made a scene to get to ask the question in the first place.

Ok, so he's a jerk, but we don't taser people for being annoying (though we should!)

Then it turned out that he asked a friend to videotape him going up. oh well, so he was videotaping the whole speech anyway, of course he wanted to videotape his own q&a session.

The police claimed he was just publicity hungry and started hamming for the cameras whenever the cameramen showed up. Hmm, have to say - he was yelling just a little too loudly. And made some fairly ridiculous remarks about being sent away to be killed by the government. On the other hand, he apparently believes the 2004 election was fixed by the Skull & Bones society - so maybe he was sincere when he feared for his life.

Still, all this injects that enemy of righteous moral outrage - the reasonable doubt. So I put aside my moral outrage for a few minutes and considered all sides. The conclusion? Maybe he was a publicity hungry kid. And maybe he's secretly thrilled with his overnight celebrity status - maybe he even anticipated it during that painful tasering moment.
Doesn't change a thing. He was being midly irritating, but perfectly orderly while asking his question. Kerry started replying to the question, so there was no need to drag him away. Of course he was shocked at being dragged away from the mike by four cops, anyone would have been. He shouldn't have tried to fight off the cops, but at no point did the situation get out of the cops control. Yet, they made a coldblooded, calculated decision that they needed to subdue him. Instead of taking him out of the room and letting him go, they wrestled him down, pinned him to the ground, and tased him into submission.

*That* was the ultimate problem - the police used force, not to stop him from harming anyone, but to subdue him. At no point did he do anything that could be remotely construed as threatening, to the audience, to the speaker or to the police. The police just decided to hurt him, before he could come up with the idea of hurting anyone.

It was a preemptive strike. Seems like there's a lot of that going around!

Princess Diana

2007-09-02T22:23:00.000-07:00

The TV channels have been running shows about Princess Diana over the last couple of days. I guess that means its been ten years since she passed away.

I remember how terrible I felt about the way she died. Hounded by the media, they never left her alone, followed her everywhere, till she had no escape - except in death. That's what I thought. Of course, life is never that simple. Turns out, Diana wasn't above manipulating the media. Generated a lot of the media attention herself, and used it to draw public sympathy to herself.

Yup, that's life. As somebody once said - the truth is rarely pure and never simple. Have you heard of the British king who abdicated his throne for the woman he loved? Edward the VIII... Oh, when I first heard that, it sounded so incredibly romantic! Just like a fairy tale.
Except that Edward was no handsome young prince. He was a 40 year old man who had several affairs with married women. As for the woman he loved - she was on her second husband, had an unsavoury reputation and was already having an affair with Edward. And the whole thing was mostly stubbornness on Edward's part anyway. He wanted it both ways (the marriage and the throne), triggered a face off with his government, and lost. Oh, and did I mention - they were both big fans of Hitler!

Anyway, my point being - life is seldom what you expect. Princess Diana had a beautiful, magnificent wedding, watched live by millions of people. She went through a fifteen year marriage, outwardly living the perfect life. And all the while, her husband was in love with another woman. A woman he had never stopped loving. A woman he finally married after years of separation.

Hmm, now that sounds like a romance... Not the conventional story book kind, but at least it has a happy ending. Princess Diana had the fairy tale wedding, but I guess it was Camilla who got the fairy tale.

my test page

2007-08-27T21:59:00.001-07:00

testing testing testing

Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows

2007-08-05T22:27:00.000-07:00

(WARNING: SPOILERS! I discuss the plot details in excruciating detail - don't read if you don't want to know how it ends!)

The last Harry Potter has been out for two weeks now. Time to tell the world what I think of it!

I have to admit that my interest in the series has been waning these last few years. I thought the first 4 books were great, just what they ought to be. Intriguing plots, skillful storytelling, well fleshed out characters. Once we got to the fifth book, things slowed down. Let's admit it, the fifth and sixth books were really fillers, building up to the climactic seventh book. And they were of a lower quality. Rowling seemed to lose the self discipline to reign in her stories. The books ran to mammoth sizes; and in such large books, there are bound to be parts that sag. But there was a more fundamental flaw. I really believe Rowling did not have enough material for those books, and yet they needed to exist (7 years of Hogwarts). So she generated story lines that went nowhere, built up suspenseful plots that stretched believability and secrets that were completely predictable. Hence my loss of interest.

But the seventh book still held out hope. It would decide the fate of the Rowling legacy - it could justify the multi-year, multi-book build up. Or not.

Most people I have spoken to loved the book, they think it turned out to be everything they expected.

Me? I was ... disappointed.

Ok, firstly, it must be said that I finished the seventh book in a couple of days. It held my interest from start to finish and I completely enjoyed reading it. And yet, it was not good enough. If this book had come directly after the fourth book.. if it had started off with Dumbledore explaining horcruxes to Harry, and ended with Harry killing Voldemort; it would have been a very good book.

A very good children's book, like the first four.

Unfortunately, the series built itself up to be much more than that. By killing Sirius and Dumbledore, Rowling established a precedent of breathtaking unpredictability. With the horcruxes, she raised the tantalizing possibility that Harry may have to sacrifice his life to rid the world of Voldemort. Through throwaway clues in the last two books, she hinted at shocking secrets to be revealed. And after all that, the last couple of hundred pages of the seventh book turned out to be as predictable as any Famous Five or Secret Seven book I ever read. The big secret about Aunt Petunia is that she was jealous of her sister's magical ability? The big secret about Snape is that he was in love with Lucy?? The big twist at the end is that Harry doesn't die??? No, really? Shocking!

So, yes, that is my first complaint about the last book. It is too predictable. Harry is a horcrux (which everybody had guessed by now). Harry fights Voldemort, Harry kills Voldemort. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione live happily ever after. Sure, a few characters die in the process - but the death of Lupin (though he is one of my favourites) is nothing after the dramatic collapse of Sirius. And while the twins were lovable characters, Fred's death only made me thankful that it wasn't Ron who died. Like I said, this ending would have been much more effective if we hadn't spent ten years building up to it. Of course, it also suffered from the Matrix syndrome. You remember, how after the first two Matrix movies, fans were speculating online what would happen in the third? Wild ideas, crazy theories floated by literally thousands of intensely creative minds? No mainstream movie could stand up against that level of expectation. After all the theories that went around, the real ending was just too - bland. And it's the same with the last Harry Potter. I mean, we knew Harry Potter was a horcrux (and if we had any kind of sense, we knew that Snape was a good guy). So where was the suspense? What was the twist?
An ending conceived fifteen years ago, an ending for an innocuous children's book, could not stand up to the expectations built up by several years of Pottermania. Well, but if nothing else, the epilogue could have presented a twist. Maybe Ron and Hermione not together after all? Maybe Luna as Hogwarts Headmistress - who knows? Just something that actually justified an epilogue - not just a four page version of "and they lived happily ever after".

But I'm not done with the ending yet. My second complaint is the double ending. The fake ending followed by the real one. I always hate stories like that - it reminds me of the worst kind of Hindi movies. The kind where the director couldn't decide which ending to go with, so he squashed them both in. In this book, it felt like Rowling almost decided to kill Harry. But couldn't go through with it, and so brought him back to life. With some lame hand wavy explanation about his mother's sacrifice protecting him. And yes, I do think it was lame - just from a story telling point of view, his mother's sacrifice has been done to death. Couldn't we get something new? And from a dramatic point of view, what good is an invincible hero? Why were we so vested in Harry, so scared for his life? Why did so many people sacrifice their lives to save him, if Voldemort could never kill him? It is a dramatic let-down of the greatest kind. And so, we get this remarkably unsatisfactory fake death, followed by a highly predictable duel in which Harry kills Voldemort.

And my third complaint about the book - the supernatural, spiritual, religious, mythical components injected into the story. All I can say is that it was too grail quest-y for my taste. Suddenly, an everyday book about magic, good and evil turned into an epic allegorical tale. I have no objection Holy Grail metaphors in general, but it is not the sort of thing you can just inject into an ongoing narrative. The Harry Potter saga has suddenly lurched into different modes at various times, in a clumsy manner. In the fourth book, a fairly light children's book turned into a darker, more sinister good versus evil epic. And in the seventh book, this epic now tries to take on several dimensions of meaning, far too many for its size. Hence we are inundated with metaphors, the hallows and horcruxes for good and evil. The quest for the hallows - which many have sought and but only the worthy will find. The death and resurrection of Harry, who chooses to return from Heaven, to save the world.

You cannot build a perfectly ordinary world (give or take a few wands) and suddenly turn it into a grand religious metaphor. Not without making the whole thing feel surreal. And slightly ridiculous. The moment when Harry jumps into the lake to retrieve the sword of Gryffindor made me cringe with embarrassment. Don't get me wrong. I do like grand mythological epics. I loved the Lord of the Rings. But it always knew what it wanted to be. It always was a cathedral fresco - not a miniature portrait that became ambitious. The seventh Harry Potter feels like the ending of the Lord of the Rings was tacked on to The Hobbit.

Oh well, I do sound harsh, don't I? At the end of the day it was an entertaining read. And the fastest selling book in recent times (which means the fastest selling book ever). Maybe it's ungracious of me to expect more.

Funny world!

2007-07-19T21:32:00.000-07:00

So I was looking at detailed stats on how people find my blog. And a couple of interesting search queries popped up :)

One person came here looking for "kajol showing underwear". While another was looking for "arvind swamy divorce" (is arvind swamy getting a divorce???)
Check it out, my blog is the top search result for both these queries on Google :) [And I've probably strengthened its position with this post!] I'm guessing those two wanderers didn't stay on this page too long. Sorry to disappoint you guys!

Dreamwork's Fables

2007-06-11T22:00:00.000-07:00

I saw "Over the Hedge" this weekend. A charming little animated comedy about a group of animal foragers trying to gather (i.e. steal) food in the concrete suburban jungle. They have barely pulled through a lean winter, but now come face to face with the greatest danger they have ever encountered - suburbia!
An adorable turtle is almost run over by a huge SUV. Driven by a soccer mom; a cell phone using, latte sipping soccer mom. His comrades are seduced by delicious, plentiful junk food - one bag of doritos, and they turn their nose up at the homey jungle fare (bark and nuts). But in the end they see this vast food paradise for the cold, sterile place it is... and return to the warmth and comfort of their woods.

Animated movies have come a long way since the Tom and Jerry cartoons of the Hanna Barbera era. They have beaten live action movies in cinematography, production values, music, comedy, even acting (ref. Gollum). And long ago stopped being children's movies. But not content with technical superiority, they now aim for moral superiority. Animated movies are the new fables.

Its a crazy, mixed up world. Our books explore dark, twisted worlds. Our movies glamorize violence and greed, our music videos cannot be watched in mixed company, our athletes take steroids. And our cartoons teach us morality. Talking cars learn to slow down and smell the roses. Ogres teach princesses that appearances are deceptive. Superheroes learn to be proud of their talents. Dancing penguins discover that being different is ok. And cats fall in love with skunks (well it is a cartoon, after all!)

I am happy with where animated movies have reached, I really am. But sometimes I long for the good ol' days, when a cartoon was just a cartoon, an escape hatch from reality. Not the custodian social values. Sure, its nice to see a story about a dancing penguin who becomes popular. But a story that promotes empathy for gays, while criticizing dogmatism, religious fundamentalism, hypocritical preachers, offshore oil drilling, pollution, global warming, and zoos, all in two hours? Please! Leave the clumsy, heavy handed symbolism to independent movies and first time novelists. I just want to see a mouse hit a cat with a saucepan.

गाना आए या ना आए ...

2007-05-15T01:01:00.000-07:00

Tonight I came to an earth-shattering realization...
I can trace my personal timeline back with Hindi movie songs! You know, the way we often look back at important milestones in life, the first day of college, the graduation ceremony.. I can name the popular movie songs playing at all those milestones, the soundtrack of my life, if you will.
Bear with me, my friends, as I take a nostalgia soaked trip down memory lane.

प्यार हुआ, इक्रार हुआ है ... growing up, my parents were always playing golden oldies - from the time they were young. Ah, for romance, you can't beat black and white movies!

The eighties, while I was in school, were bad years for music. The movies were the kind spawned by Amitabh-mania. Movies that gave us such gems as मर्द तांगेवाला हूँ मैं।

पापा कहते हैं ... like a breath of fresh air across this desolate action packed landscape, came a charming college love story. A love story! It took the teenage crowd by storm, and us pre-teens too. We were still nostalgically singing that college graduation song when we graduated from college almost a decade later. Finally, melody was back in Hindi cinema.

And rhythm wasn't far behind.

एक दो तीन ... Madhuri swinging her hips to one of the most popular songs of that decade. A star was born, And we had great fun learning the lyrics, remembering what each day stood for, arguing about whether a particular line was from "his" song or "hers".

कबूतर जा जा जा ... Where QSQT led, MPK followed. I have to admit, I never was a fan of this movie. It was silly, the songs were marginal, the actors simpered along. But boy, you could not get away from that कबूतर for a long time.

But movie songs were finally coming into their own. Or maybe, I was coming into my own.

A Hindi movie generation encompasses the ages 13-21. That is when Indians watch the most movies, watch them with a hunger - for entertainment, fantasy and dreams. When we get older, we may still watch a lot of movies, but they are no longer magical. The teenage years, that's when movies grip us. Those are the times we forever remember as the "golden" years.. the days when movies were romantic, songs were melodious and actresses were beautiful. Ask any man my age, and he'll tell you - Aishwarya Rai is gorgeous, but she doesn't have the classiness or the earthy, sensuous appeal of Madhuri. And as for these girls nowadays, stick figures with no personality. Who can even tell them apart!

But this was my generation's music...
We sang खंबे जैसी खडी है on our last day in 10th standard. We listened to देखा है पहली बार from Saajan and thought it was so romantic (heck, we even thought Madhuri looked sophisticated in those hideous clothes).

When Aamir danced in slow motion to पहला नशा, I declared it the most beautiful song ever composed. The choreography was sheer magic - was it this movie that made Farah Khan a household name? How incredibly romantic it seemed, the hostel set in idyllic Dehradun. I was just a year away from going to college myself, and I indulged in some healthy fantasizing about how my college would be like the ones in this movie.

Ofcourse when I eventually got to that college... lets just say Pune is not Dehradun! But not to worry, fresh songs awaited, to take their place in my memories. The year I got to Pune, two very different songs blared from every music playing device in sight.
One was a truly unique song - unique in its lyrics, its melody, its choreography, in the fresh blooming beauty of its Nepali actress. एक लडकी को देखा skyrocketed to the top of the charts and refused to shift for anybody.
At about the same time, my neighbour began every single day with बाज़िगर, ए बाज़िगर blaring from his radio... And I never got sick of hearing it, as I dressed for college - in that temporary apartment with no furniture and so many memories.
Shah Rukh (aka the Khan, aka Boss) had come into our world. And throughout my college years, he was the sweetheart of all my friends. He was on a roll, he left an indelible mark with "kk..Kiran" and then got back to good guy mode with Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa - कब से करें हैं तेरा इंतज़ार...

Right from my first year in college, Shah Rukh had established himself as "King of the Indian teenager's heart". The "Queen's" position was occupied by Madhuri, but then along came a plump, dark skinned, ordinary looking girl with an unshapely nose - and deep, intense eyes. And they paired up in the defining movie of our generation..
Kajol standing in a field of flowers, a strumming guitar starts up, accompanied by her lover's voice... and then Lata's broken tuneless voice trembles - तुझे देखा तो ये जाना सनम ...
Kajol and Shah Rukh's undeniable chemistry, the lavish splendour of filthy rich NRI-dom, and gorgeous Punjabi weddings. Yes, DDLJ was the defining movie of my generation.

Not that there weren't other popular movies.. we were now entering the era of gross overexposure - every cable channel (of which there were now maybe 500) had their own song countdown shows, which provided endless advertisement for upcoming movies. These would usually contain just a single shot, a couple of lines from the song - teasers if you will. We were treated to countless repeats of the peanut hitting Madhuri's blue butt, before we saw the full version of दीदी तेरा देवर दीवाना ... Madhuri had put up a fight for her crown, HAHK was the highest grossing movie of all time.

But while the actors battled it out, there was a quiet revolution afoot in Hindi music... thanks to a Tamil movie named Roja, and a boy genius named AR Rahman. Chinna Chinna Aasai - and Hindi music would never be the same again. And just as Shah Rukh and Kajol were the actors of our generation, AR Rahman was our composer. Urmila swaying to याई रे याई रे and Arvind Swamy singing तू ही रे ... these are what got us through the tough slogging at college.

After college, I moved to Bangalore and the first movie I saw there was Dil to Pagal Hai. A good movie, with nice songs. But for the life of me, I can't explain the power they have over me. Any song from this movie hits me like long lost personal memory. To this day, listening to दिल तो पागल है or अरे रे अरे or even भोली सी सूरत fills my heart with aching nostalgia. Nostalgia for what... my first days of freedom and independence? The Bangalore roommates with whom I shared so much more than rooms and meals? Who knows.. But one line from any of these songs sends my mind flying to the little bungalow on Ulsoor Road, makes my heart heavy with longing.

Not that I heard no other good songs in Bangalore. Yet another candidate for the "best song I have ever heard" came along the very next year.. Shah Rukh (yes, him again) dancing on the roof of a train, the music echoing the train's repetitive motion - छैया छैया ... to this day I cannot listen to it without bursting out in song myself.
I was almost past the "movie generation" now, but there was room for another Shah Rukh, Kajol starrer - no prizes for guessing which - तुम पास आये, यूँ मुस्कुराये, - a whole new "generation" was in college now, and ready to fall in love with Shah Rukh and Kajol.
But she made the mistake of getting married. And left the stage open for another heroine to step up. I watched Aishwarya pick up this mantle with हम दिल दे चुके सनम .. the last major movie I watched before I left India.

Not that I have been unmoved by Hindi movies ever since, of course.

Hrithik Roshan made me sit up and take notice when he danced to एक पल का जीना in Kaho Na Pyaar Hai.

Aamir Khan went for quality cinema when he "came of age" jumping up and down and yelling कोई कहे, कहता रहे ...

Ajay Devgan showed that he could pick good movies too, and swept me up in his patriotic fervour with सरफरोशी की तमन्ना ...

And the evergreen Shah Rukh Khan brought me full circle when he reprised one of Amitabh's most famous roles, and danced to one of his most popular songs. After all, who can resist
खैके पान बनारस वाला, खुल जाये बंद अक्ल का ताला ...

Ever randomer thoughts..

2007-05-08T00:45:00.000-07:00

What surprised you about the US when you first got here?

The first thing I remember is the restrooms.. Seriously. When I got off the plane and entered the airport bathroom I was shocked by the restroom stalls. Such an advanced society and they can't afford doors on the bathroom stalls? Or walls for that matter? Open at the top and open at the bottom, not to mention the generous cracks on either side of the door. It was several weeks before I was comfortable in those drafty, un-private, peekaboo loos. I really didn't understand it.. don't Americans put a much higher value on privacy and personal space than Indians? And yet they are fine with the exposed bathrooms.. and what about the fragile apartment buildings where one can hear every movement in the flat above? How is that acceptable? My first apartment, on the first day, the downstairs neighbours came up to complain about the noise I made *walking* in the apartment! I felt like I was living in a Bombay chawl.

I grew up watching American movies and American TV shows. So I thought I knew everything about the US. I wasn't expecting culture shock, I wasn't expecting to be dazzled by high tech gadgets, I wasn't expecting to be shocked by loose morals.
Well mostly it turned out exactly as I'd expected. There were the skyscrapers, the suit clad purposeful businessmen, the fancy appliances, and the loose morals. Pretty much as I'd expected.
But even so there were a few surprises. Like the tank tops. My first summer at my American university, I was genuinely puzzled. All the girls wore spaghetti strapped tops, you know, tops with very thin straps. So thin that most of the time the underlying bra strap showed through. But the surprising part was that no one attempted to hide them. They didn't opt for more discreet underwear, they deliberately flaunted the bra strap as a contrast to the spaghetti strap - often with a contrasting color. I honestly didn't get it - its not like there's something seductive about it, I could have understood that (ref. loose morals). But this was just - sloppy. Who walks around with their underwear showing??
Apparently, American college girls... and boys! Have you seen those boys with pants pulled half way down their hips, underwear showing? I wonder how many of those boys have accidents with that arrangement.. its gravity defying!

What else? Oh yes, the fat people! You see, the people in Hollywood movies and American sitcoms are all thin and beautiful. The people on the streets and in the malls - different story. I realised that I had never understood what fat really meant. These were not just protruding bellies or wide hips, these people were fat! limited mobility fat, circus freak fat! Buy an extra airplane ticket fat! But the funniest part - the fat people are usually the poor ones.. Really. The poor people eat at cheap fast food joints all their lives, and are too busy to get exercise. Exercise is the privilege of the rich, healthy diet food is the privilege of the rich. You know you're in a rich country when its the poor people who overeat!

Of course, the most common thing we hear about Westerners in India is their loose moral standards. All that part was fine enough, divorce rate at 50% (or whatever), lots of unwed mothers.. all as expected. The liberal society didn't surprise me at all - what caught me off guard is - how conservative America is. I've been here several years now, and I understand the nuances of religious and social politics - the culture war as its been called. But I had never in my life dreamed that in this day and age, any developed country would have public arguments about abortion and evolution.
Evolution?? Of course, I understand things better now. I understand the conflict between science and religion. This isn't a modern conflict, it's been raging since Darwin postulated his theory. It is based in fear, the fear of the unknown, the longing for safe, comfortable ideas.
I understand it, but I don't have to like it. And I am happy, that whatever Indians may do in the name of religion, they don't question science. Most Indians are far too pragmatic to let their religious beliefs get in the way of reality.

Oh well, here I go again - back to my pet topic: American politics. Time to wrap up this entry. Maybe I will go into the whole Hindu vs Christian, religion vs scince, spirituality vs faith thing next time. Certainly a topic close to my heart. Oh, and definitely one about Hillary's presidential bid. And maybe the media. Anyway, today's post was supposed to be about apolitical culture shock moments..
Suffice to say that you can never take any place for granted. The real America turned out to be a very different place from the Hollywood America.

The Meta Blog

2007-04-21T22:57:00.000-07:00

I am constantly amazed by how much time I can spend online, browsing the blogs of perfect strangers. On Orkut, I once found a girl's blog. I had traversed through several links of friends' friends, and for some reason I stopped to read this girl's blog. She was Maharashtrian, and lived in the bay area. That's it. That's all I knew about her: a single Maharashtrian 20-something FOB in the bay area. I read her blog for something like 3 hours. I read about her roommates, her fiance, her colleagues, diwali celebrations and barbeque parties. It was a busy, ordinary life - a carbon copy of the one I live, all my friends live. And yet I was totally fascinated.

Blogging is a unique medium: at once intimate and exhibitionist. Some people use their blog as a soapbox, discoursing to an invisible audience, holding forth on science, technology, religion, what have you. Others use it to keep their friends updated, in lieu of writing mass emails. And there are those who use it to put their life on display: come look at me, I'll perform for you free!

I often thought about how much I would enjoy blogging. I'm sure everyone has, at one time or another. We all have a story to tell, or an opinion to express. But I held back for years... never knowing how to structure such a blog. Writing about one's life is hard. For one, I am too private a person to discuss my feelings before everybody I know. Besides, you cannot discuss events without discussing people, and it is hard to candidly discuss the people in your life. No, actually, it is scarily easy, but that is called gossip :) And I have to admit, a blog about my daily life would quickly become, how should I put this.. boring. I have trouble enough coming up with things to tell my parents in our weekly phone call. And these are people who are interested in what I had for dinner yesterday. Much more interesting to talk about my opinions on life, the universe and everything. So I've been writing about important, interesting topics: politics, spirituality, women in engineering, and ofcourse, my phone. It's fun, and I enjoy it.

The fact that some people have actually read these entries is unnerving, though. It is nice in a way, (because there is an exhibitionist inside each of us). On the other hand it makes me very self conscious. The knowledge that somebody may read an entry invariably affects how it is written. Sort of like Heisenberg's principle. Or, if you prefer, like Phoebe from Friends.. you know the episode where she sings on the street outside the coffee shop to piss off the coffee shop people? She sings some lame song and makes a dollar fifty. But then she sings Smelly Cat and only makes 20 cents. So she's torn between fame and artistic integrity :)

Wonder how long I'll keep up this blogging thing. It is a shame that most good ideas come to me when I'm in no position to blog about them. On the other hand, the few times that ideas strike at the right time, blogging sure beats talking to myself!

The truth about cats and dogs

2007-04-13T23:11:00.000-07:00

Have you ever asked yourself the tough questions? The uncomfortable ones. The kind that get Larry Summers into trouble? You know Larry Summers - the Harvard president who suggested that men are smarter than women. Ok, not smarter, but better at maths and science. While women are better at, you know, colour coordinating outfits.

It is a strange, strange world.

All those years growing up, I knew I lived in a bubble. Inside the bubble, boys and girls were treated almost the same. Parents encouraged their daughters to excel in school and seek exciting careers. Girls walked around in jeans and skirts, free to say and do what they pleased. Every now and then we bumped up against the walls of that bubble. Our maids told of being beaten up by their drunk husbands. Our professors thought we lacked motivation. A school teacher once told my class that working women took jobs away from men who were the sole breadwinners for their family. In engineering college, only 30% of the students were girls. Well, of course, what do you expect in an underdeveloped country like India. Then as we went from one year to the next, it became clear the boys were out performing the girls. It's not that all the girls were flunking, it's that none of the top performers were girls. There were a lot of socialization issues there, girls hung out and talked about clothes and movies. Boys hung out with their seniors, discussed computers, kept updated with the latest technology news. Indian girls grew up in such an inherently sexist society, they were always at a major disadvantage. The stereotypes drilled into their minds by years of subconscious learning could not be easily erased. They were afraid to think for themselves, and if there's one field where a gal needs to think for herself, its software.

In the infinite wisdom of my youth, I knew exactly where the problem lay. It was our backward society, and we had to cast off the shackles. Ofcourse, in a place like the US, things would be different. Feminism had come to America atleast a generation earlier.

Yes, of all the surprises I found in the US, this was the most - surprising. All through my graduate course, I met 0 American women - count them, 0. Of course, there were very few Americans in the first place. There were lots of Indians, but only a handful of Indian women among the engineers. Among the far east Asian students, the proportions were much closer, a sizeable number of women. Apart from that, there was one European and one Jamaican. No Americans. I didn't even notice it at first.. was too caught up in my own life. But as time went by, I noticed it more and more. TV shows that implicitly associated women with shopping and cooking and dressing up (and being emotionally unstable). Movies that painted scientists as absent minded, socially handicapped, geeky men who never got any action. In fact, I'm trying to think of a female character who's smart technically and doesn't look at intelligence as uncool - so far, I've come up with Lisa Simpson.

What is most disturbing is that in this post feminist world, women have made a lot of progress. They are powerful politicians, chairmen and CEOs. But not scientists, not engineers. I remember Newsweek did a cover story about women leaders one time. I searched through their list for technical women leaders... in vain. The CEO of HP came up the sales/marketing/finance ladder. Meg Whitman of eBay is not a geek either. Later, somebody made a list online about top 10 geek women - apparently they were so starved for candidates, they added Paris Hilton; and Lisa Simpson!

I'm rambling, I know. I'll try to pull this post into some kind of structure...
A quick recap - I start out in life with wide eyed innocence, and naive confidence. Women are every bit as good as men. Then questions start to arise - why are so many of the girls in my college dumb? They do well when it comes to learning things by heart, but are terrible when it comes to applying their mind. Possible reasons come to mind - years of social conditioning, afraid to think for themselves,
uninterested in pursuing the field they've chosen. But then, what about a place where women have had a generation to get over these hurdles. A place where women are assertive, show great creative skills, great leadership skills - and yet fail to produce great technical skills? Is it social conditioning again - is it just a different kind of conditioning? Instead of being taught to be submissive and unobtrusive, American women are being conditioned to be materialistic, beautiful and air headed.
A strange kind of equality, which allows shows like "Beauty and the Geek" to be produced.

Hmm, so much for the structure, I'm rambling again. But I do have a point - are women "differently abled" than men? Does that extra limb in the second X have maths inhibiting genes? Given a wide choice of career fields - most women here have chosen non-technical fields. Overwhelmingly so. Is this social conditioning or intrinsic ability? Nature or nurture?

It's an uncomfortable question. On the one hand, it goes against everything I have ever believed, to think that women just may not be made for scientific thinking. On the other hand, scientific thinking demands that we think objectively - objectively speaking this is always a possibility.

Undoubtedly, something keeps women away from maths and science. Until we isolate the maths gene, we can only argue about nature versus nurture. In the meantime, we have to fumble our way through. Let's not take the weight of our sex on our shoulders, lets think of ourselves as individuals and see what we can do. Let history make the judgment.
I look at all the intelligent women I do know - the ones who are passionate about what they do, and have had successful technical careers. Its not many, but it is sufficient.

After all, even if it is true that men are smarter than women - even if there is only one freak-of-nature woman (in the entire world) who is truly smart; wouldn't it be a terrible injustice to that one woman to claim that all women are dumb?

After all, a zillion truth cases cannot prove a theorem, but one false case can disprove it.

nothing to see here

2007-03-16T13:32:00.000-07:00

Lazy Sunday Afernoon

2007-03-11T16:04:00.000-07:00

I have to admit, I don't have any topic to blog about today. No rant about incompetent officials, no spiritual discussions about karma..
(hmm, this is really weird.. I have a new version of firefox, which comes with an inline spell checker. The spell checker doesn't recognize "blog" but it's ok with "karma". Maybe a spell checker for a web browser should be more internet aware?)
Anyway, so like I was saying - I have nothing to say. I'm here to celebrate a weekend spent away from work. It's a lovely spring day outside, warm and sunny (sorry to the folks who're still shoveling snow!) And I have no deadlines to worry about, nowhere to go, no work to complete. I have cleaned the kitchen, watered the plants, done my laundry, paid my bills and thus am feeling greatly virtuous. Only one regret - I have been robbed of a full hour of my life, thanks to daylight savings..

Oh, and I'm a prisoner in my home - this one is a funny story, just don't tell it to my parents!
So Thursday evening I was pulling out of our office garage when another driver started gesticulating wildly at me. I had no idea what he was complaining about - I wasn't blocking his way, he was blocking mine. But it turns out, he was telling me that my headlights were off. So I pulled into the next parking lot and took a look. Sure thing, they wouldn't turn on. It is strange that both headlamps would blow off at the same time, so there's probably something wrong in the controls. Fortunately, the high beam came on and I was able to drive home. Of course, Friday I forgot all about this and had to drive home on high beam again. And it turns out that the VW service centers are closed over the weekend. Great, this means I can't drive after dark at all this weekend! Anyway, yesterday morning a friend came over to look at the headlights - I wanted a second opinion in case it was something trivial. He was examining the headlights and asked me for the drivers manual. I pulled it out of the glove compartment and caught sight of my insurance card - my insurance payment was due March 5th... I had been driving around without insurance for the last week (they can probably jail you for this!) So I went back into my apartment and frantically called Farmer's. They gladly took my payment over the phone, so hopefully that's taken care of. But when I was putting the insurance card back, I found - you guessed it - my registration card. Now that one had expired a month ago!
So for those of you keeping score, if a cop had stopped me Friday night - I would have been driving (a) without headlights, (b) with high beam on the freeway, (c) in an unregistered car and (d) without insurance. I guess it's a good thing nobody stopped me on Friday. Turns out my lights blowing out was probably for the best. You know, like in that story where the king cut his finger and got angry with his minister.

Hence my self imposed house arrest today. And first thing tomorrow I get to go to the DMV. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of visiting a DMV in the bay area, its about as much fun as a trip to the Pune RTO.

So this weekend has been a bit of a bummer, but not a total loss. I did go out yesterday (I didn't drive) - and checked out a Toyota Prius. I am itching to buy a new car, and living in tree hugging Northern California means that I feel obliged to buy a hybrid. It's not a bad car; it has all kinds of cool gizmos like a navigation system, rear view camera and cool graphics for energy generation, consumption, battery charge etc. And bluetooth, and a smart key system, which means the key communicates with the car by wireless and doesn't actually have to be inserted anywhere. (It has been six years since I last went car shopping, and it feels like there's a whole new generation of technology! And when I first came here, I was impressed by remote keys and garage door openers) And all this at about three times the fuel efficiency of my current car! Ok looking, the shape feels a little weird at first but grows on you.

And so there is my weekend in a nutshell - oh and I had "desi" pizza which was alright, and watched Man of the Year which was just too random for my taste.

No pithy comment to end the blog.. Oh yeah, Firefox spell check is bad. It also doesn't like bluetooth, inline, hmm and ok. It doesn't approve of firefox or internet with lower case first letters. And it insists on spell checking 3 letter acronyms, so it also flags DMV and RTO. tsk tsk.

The human angle

2007-02-22T01:40:00.000-08:00

You know how Hollywood is a sucker for the "human angle"? How they love to tell the story of an epic historical event through the way it affects the life of a regular person?

Well, if they want to tell the Iraq story, they can use this boy's life. It is one of the most harrowing things I have read in my life... the blog begins at the end of 2003 sometime, started by a 16 year old schoolboy who barely speaks English. The first year's entries are almost entirely about soccer. And computer games. When the body does mention the political situation, he is the epitome of the grateful Iraqi - you know, the kind who would welcome American soldiers with garlands. He talks excitedly about Bush visiting Iraq.

A couple of years later, he talks excitedly about being old enough to vote, finally! His entries are full of optimism, hope, national pride. Thrilled to have a free country, excited about the anticipated progress, enthusiastic about new leaders.

Then an anxious note creeps into his blogs.. he notices that Shiite militias are attacking Sunnis like him. He is afraid. But then the Sunnis react by trying to keep Sunni students out of universities. He is exasperated at the idiocy of his own people. And then the situation spirals into madness. After that, his entries morph into one long desperate scream for help - for rescue from the nightmare that is his daily life. Shells exploding outside his door, neighbours being struck dead by randomly aimed mortars. Always existing in the shadow of death. He is applying for a student visa abroad, and is not too proud to ask total strangers for money over the internet. No more pride in his country, no more desire to make his mark in the new society.
Now he is just looking to get out as soon as he can.

In three short years, from soccer in school to shells outside his house, Nabil has come a long way. In December 2005, his entry said "Just wanna say that I am still alive (lol) ..."
If he wrote that today, I don't think there would be a "lol" at the end of it.

Ridiculouser and ridiculouser

2007-02-02T01:35:00.000-08:00

(yes I know, lousy title!)

Sometimes I don't know what the people "in charge" are smoking! Boston went into panic mode Wednesday because police got calls about terrorist bombs in subways, bridges, tunnels etc. After half the city was shut down for several hours, turns out the "bombs" were just a marketing campaign for a TV show. A marketing campaign, btw, which has run in other parts of the country for several weeks without generating any panic.
Of course, politicians and policemen tried to save face by blustering about "insensitivity" and "post 9/11 world" and so on. Fine. But then, they went and arrested the guys who put up the signs. And I do mean the guys who physically put up the signs. What a logical and completely appropriate way to make up for their previous overreaction! In this bizzaro world, the CEO of Turner was forced to apologize for the whole situation.
And everybody from the man on the street to editorials in newspapers are talking about how this was a completely rational reaction in this "post 9/11 atmosphere" to strange electronic devices on billboards "with wires sticking out of them". Yeah, these were clearly dangerous bombs -

Article

Yes, do check out the picture on that article. If you have time, read the article too - and weep. Weep that on this poverty stricken, starving planet, (somebody's) valuable money is being spent on this ridiculous prosecution. Two men are being put through all this torment by little-minded people trying to save face.

Turning from Boston to Norwich, Connecticut.. where a teacher was found guilty of "risk of injury to a minor" and "impairing the morals of a child". Heinous crimes these, felonies - with a possible maximum of 40 yrs jail time. What do you suppose the teacher was doing to these children and their morals? The imagination reels..
Shall I tell you what she is accused of?

Pop-ups!
Yes, ladies and gentlemen - the computer in the classroom went into an endless loop of pornographic pop-ups. The "computer illiterate" panic-stricken teacher ran to the teachers room to fetch help. But too late - atleast 10 kids had seen these images and are now scarred for life! The prosecution claims the teacher surfed porn sites in the classroom. The defence claims spyware infected the computer and caused the pop-ups. The prosecution says the defence is lying. Except, of course, the defence has experts who diagnosed the computer and found that it did in fact have spyware. OTOH, the prosecution has experts who claim the computer logs show she did visit those websites. Of course, I am not a "computer expert" by any stretch of the imagination, but there is just the teensiest possibility that these logs track HTTP requests made, and not mouse click positions on web pages. But of course, the judge would know more about such stuff. She allowed the prosecution's claims, but wouldn't let the defence experts say that there was spyware on the computer. (No idea of the reason behind this)

So is it fair to say the jury may have got a slightly unbalanced view of the case? I don't blame the jury for convicting actually - they do what they do. I blame the prosecution. Prosecutors have to protect the law - they don't have to prosecute someone unless they actually think the person is guilty. If defence attorneys refused to defend guilty people, they would be out of a job pretty quick. But if prosecutors refused to prosecute innocent people, they would still have plenty of cases to try.

Why, oh why, then, do they go after these obviously innocent people? Just because uninformed people in the community are "outraged" by half baked stories they hear - Why do the prosecutors have to go along? Why do they participate in what can only be described as hysteria driven modern day lynching?

Funny thing - just as I asked myself that question, I remembered a story from my high school English textbook. It was something about a man shooting an elephant in Burma. The villagers thought the elephant was mad, and they expected this man to shoot it. The man could see that the elephant wasn't mad - but what was he going to do? There was a crowd of people gathered to watch him, he had the rifle raised to his shoulder, the elephant in his sights. Was he just going to put the rifle down and walk away? He could, but that would look so.... foolish.

So he shoots a healthy elephant in cold blood, rather than risk looking foolish before a crowd.

Wow, I'm glad I got the moral of that story, even if it did take me 15 years :)

The way of all flesh

2007-01-15T22:56:00.000-08:00

A few months ago, I was shopping around for a new phone. So far, I've been a cheapskate - I just get whichever phone comes free with the cellular service. Which means that 2 months ago, my phone didn't even have a camera (*gasp*). But this time around, I had to shell out cold cash - and I figured this one had to last me a couple of years at least. So I shopped around a little, asked around a little. A colleague completely sold me on the Nokia e61. A nice big screen of amazing clarity, qwerty keyboard, full-functionality browser, tons of mobile apps to download, tons of symbian apps to run (even ssh). And wifi. Actual wifi. Though not in the standard US version - nooo. Cingular took the wifi out before marketing the phone to Americans (hmm, I wonder why).

And so my decision was made. I would get the e61, which meant I would have to order it online. It wasn't easy. This is apparently a very popular phone, and most places were on backorder. After waiting more than a month for Amazon to fulfill my order, I finally bought it from eBay. Now, I've never bought anything from eBay before, so I was on tenterhooks till the box arrived on my doorstep.

Finally! It was here, my beautiful, fabulous new phone!

I was finally up to date with the digital world. No longer was I the cheapskate with the low-tech phone. My phone was right up there with the trendiest and the coolest. It had a beautiful screen, an awesome browser, lots of cool apps, and ofcourse - wifi. I spent the next couple of weeks boring the heck out of everyone I met. How it had a qwerty keyboard, how you could ssh from it, how I had beaten the system (i.e. Cingular) by ordering the wifi version. [My father wasn't impressed - no camera? he said disdainfully] One time, I insisted on doing a side-by-side size comparison of the e61 and the Blackberry (*blush*). I even spent eighty dollars on a completely unnecessary bluetooth headset, just so I could use my phone's bluetooth feature.

You know what happened last week? Everyone was talking about it - everyone was looking for it - everyone was drooling over it. Steve Jobs announced Apple's entry into the cell phone market with ...

This is why I never go for "the latest gadget" thing - the latest gadget is obsolete by the time you unwrap the packaging. *sigh*
And you know the unkindest cut of all? Cingular's going to sell the iPhone *with* wifi.

Karmic Energy

2007-01-11T01:29:00.000-08:00

(Is it normal to be writing blog posts at 1:30 am after a 12 hour workday? Probably. *sigh*)

One of my pet peeves is the English use of the word karma - you know, as in "chaarma". And even worse, "chaarmic". It's one of those overused, grossly misunderstood, new-agey words tossed around as a poor substitute for actual philosophy.

But yet, I personally find Karma yoga, as described in the Geeta, fascinating. And somehow very... satisfying. Let me elaborate..

For a long time the concept of Nishkaam Karma seemed totally unrealistic to me. Basically, it says - "You have the right to act, but not to the fruits of your actions". Do your duty, but without consideration for the result.
Now firstly, how would one generate the passion for action if one is not to think of the reward? But more importantly, if we take the result out of the equation, what is the *motivation* for the action in the first place? What makes the action right or wrong if not the result?
For e.g., If I see a drowning child, I ask myself - what should I do? Should I try to rescue the kid or should I continue walking? The "fruit" of my action is the child surviving. Now if that is irrelevant, then what difference does it make what I do? Why is jumping into the water right and walking away wrong?
Inescapable logic, right? This whole nishkaam karma thing is garbage - dump it! Oh, the blissful arrogance of being 21 :)

And then, years later, it finally got through my thick head. It took a few knocks of fate, and some in-depth reading.. But, one morning as I was brushing my hair, it fell in place - the whole thing makes perfect sense! In fact, its the most logical thing in the world.
The only thing you control in this world is *your own actions*. You can influence the fruits of your action, but in the end you cannot control them. So, you concentrate on what is in your power, and don't worry about the part that isn't in your power. It's not some ghastly self-sacrificing philosophy, it's the most empowering thing in the world. See, I could set a goal - say, getting a promotion. I could work my ass off, take great risks, pull late nights, jump hoops. At the end of a year, my boss decides that I shouldn't get a promotion - and what happens? My goal is not met, I am a failure, I am miserable. On the other hand, what if I say to myself - I am a software engineer, therefore my duty is to be the best software engineer I possibly can?
I still work my ass off, take great risks, all the same stuff. At the end of a year, I ask myself - was this the best I could be? Now, my goal is entirely in my own hands, my happiness is in my hands, my success is measured completely by things under my control. And as a nice side bonus, I probably get promoted too.

By giving up the fruits of your actions, you are not giving up happiness. Quite the contrary, you are saying that you and you alone control your happiness. You are taking charge of your destiny. Why waste time and energy worrying, hoping, envying, craving something that is beyond your control? And it is beyond your control, everything in this world is - other than your own self, your own actions. Take all that energy you spend dwelling on the outcome, and channel it into your effort. Ironically, it will only make the outcome easier to achieve.

It is an awesome philosophy. It is a strategy for success and a moral compass, all at the same time. After all, suppose you'd bad mouthed your rival colleague to get the promotion? And you still didn't get it? You would be stuck with the same sucky job, your colleague would hate you, and you wouldn't be able to sleep nights. The way I look at it is, you never know for sure what result your choices will lead to. So, just choose the path that lets you live with yourself, and leave the rest to fate.

It's a scary thing to do - we are not wired for this sort of thinking. Self interest, self preservation even, gets in the way. But try it sometime. Instead of asking - will taking on this task make me look good; ask - will taking this task be the right thing to do? When you can do it, its incredibly freeing. Funnily enough, once you get past the terrible fear, the second question is easier to answer than the first. And the pleasure of doing a good deed, and doing it well, can generate a passion all its own.

And as a bonus, you'll always have a clear conscience. After all, the greater cosmic question is not "Can I rescue the child?" The question is "Did I stand by and do nothing while a child was drowning?"

(P.S: Yes, I know, I've skipped over key issues, made some leaps of logic, and conveniently ignored some of my own questions. Whatever! Its almost 3 am, and this is a blog post, not a book!)

2007-01-07T20:49:00.000-08:00

Lynching Despots:

Yes, I know, it's been more than a week since Saddam Hussein was executed. But the controversy surrounding his death is very much alive. I wasn't following the news too closely, so I'm not sure when the execution of a criminal got spun into sectarian lynching. But it baffles the heck out of me. It's one thing for the execution to generate controversy in the middle east. In that pressure cooker, it is inevitable that every action, every gesture gets interpreted and reinterpreted for ulterior motives.

But I can't understand the global outrage. Could the execution have been handled better? Probably. But guys, pick your battles. Talking heads all across America are complaining about the unseemly haste with which the sentence was carried out.. Would you prefer that his case languish through years of appeals? Did the Iraqi prime minister hurry the execution through? He probably did - so would you, if you had a ticking time bomb like a condemned Saddam sitting in your jail. This is a lawless country where insurgents set off roadside bombs in the capital daily. A determined escape attempt could very likely have succeeded. Isn't it possible the prime minister was just trying to get the whole thing over with? Then there's the "unseemly" behaviour of the guards. Apparently they were taunting him - Shocking! A barbarous tyrant was being led out to receive his just deserts, and the people he oppressed and tortured were taunting him? I thought they'd be handing out flowers!
The guards also shouted Moqtada Al Sadr's name several times. This did bother me, actually - it bothered me enough that I looked up more information on Moqtada online. (Yes, I'm ashamed of having to do that, but I needed to separate facts from impressions). Apparently, his party is actually part of the coalition government. And according to a US poll, some 67% of Iraqis support him to some degree. Hardly seems surprising then, that among the guards were some who admired him enough to shout his name. After all, his father was a highly respected cleric, murdered by Saddam's thugs.

NPR had a piece about the "incident" today. The expert commentator was, of all things, an art critic. He talked about how the grainy, unprofessional nature of the cell phone film gave the execution an air of seedy underhandedness. Well maybe it did, but considering the film was unauthorized, you can hardly blame the Iraqi government for its nature. He also complained that the setting was undignified - a dark, dingy, crowded little basement. He would have preferred a more open, lighted area (the town square perhaps?). It would have given the picture better - I quote - production values. What universe do these people inhabit? Are they so completely clueless about the incredibly harsh, terrible conditions in the country they have torn apart? I imagine secrecy, expediency and safety played a bigger hand in choosing the location than production values. Sorry about that guys.

Now stop shedding tears over poor Saddam, and turn to more important matters like fixing that whole damned mess!

(Postscript: The art critic also referred to the cell phone video as a "snuff film". And I rewound the video three times to verify that Saddam was praying when he died - ewww, I'm a snuff film buf!)

2007-01-01T18:24:00.000-08:00

New Years and Resolutions

The last time I made New Year's resolutions was four years ago. I have happily lost the list I wrote up that time, suffice to say it was such a spectacular failure that I swore off making resolutions ever since.
Well, for some reason, I was feeling very positive and ambitious, and so I decided to go for it again this year. The best part of resolutions is making them, and I have always loved planning and making lists. Though, I belong to the "This weekend I am going to fix my life" school of resolution makers, so the hardest part was restricting myself to something reasonable.
Fortunately, I have a new plan to deal with this habit of mine. It is the rule of 3: I would make no more than 3 resolutions for the new year. I spent a pleasant few hours trying to prune my laundry list of resolutions. Finally, I cheated a little by framing "goals" instead of "resolutions". Actually, it isn't a bad concept - I realized that several of my resolutions were related, and were action items aimed at fulfilling various life goals - career advancement, losing weight (never seen that on a new years resolution list before!) etc. So instead of making resolutions about individual actions, I set myself 3 very concrete, measurable goals - i.e. "lose X pounds" instead of "go to the gym everyday".
Now of course, you can't attain goals without a strategy. So I made out an action plan, consisting of 3 lifestyle changes per goal. You know,
"lose 50 pounds" by
a) going to gym everyday
b) eating celery for all meals
c) running a marathon
(No, that's just a deliberately exaggerated example for illustration purposes - I would never be so unrealistic, not since 2003!)

So I have 3 concrete goals for this year, and a strategy of 3 lifestyle changes each to achieve these goals. Excellent! Now for the bad news - I have effectively managed to slip a list of 9 resolutions past my stern rule of 3. Therefore, I had to prioritize (and stagger). I picked one lifestyle change from each category, and that's the one I will concentrate on first. Good, we're now down to 3 resolutions again, but only for the first couple of months. Then, I'll have to maintain these 3 resolutions and additionally, pick up the next 3. Sounds easy, right? What could go wrong? This is why I never managed to keep a New Year's resolution - no planning, no strategy. All it required was a few hours of careful thinking. Onward & upward!

Then, a couple of things happened over the weekend. First, I tried my hand at snowboarding in Tahoe - and discovered that I sucked. I sucked so bad, I sobbed over my snowboard and swore never to go near the snow again. But fortunately, there was a friend around who didn't think I should give up "so easily". So I was cajoled out on to the slopes again. I strapped on the board, and bounced my behind on the Sierras several more times. I didn't exactly conquer the mountain, but we called it a draw. Then, later in the evening, I discovered that I had made a mistake at work. Just how big a mistake, I'll find out when I go in to work next week. But in the best case, it is still a pretty bad mistake. I spent all evening feeling like there was a huge weight in my abdomen. My can-do, conquer the world spirit was shattered into a million pieces. Where on earth did I get off thinking I had it in me to do everything I was planning for next year?
And then it came home to me - the failure of past well meant resolutions was not caused by lack of planning. The reasons were far more pernicious - getting easily discouraged, and losing self confidence when things went wrong.

So my friends, if you wish to keep your resolutions (and I know you've made them) - here's my advice... Don't let temporary setbacks, the caprices of fate or even your own stupidity, hold you back. Get up, learn from your mistakes and try again. It ain't over till it's over. Oh, and find yourself a friend who won't let you give up on yourself.

Goodbye, and a happy new year to all. What are my resolutions for this year, you ask? Well, I think its like with birthday wishes - if you tell, they won't come true.

2006-11-12T14:10:00.000-08:00

Don: To like or not to like?

I must admit - the idea of Shah Rukh Khan reinterpreting "Khaike Paan Benares wala" was what pulled me into the theatre. Could the undisputed star of today stand his own against the legend of yesterday?

And here, unfortunately, the movie disappoints. Shah Rukh is a great actor, but he rarely deigns to display his talent. Instead, he usually gives us the same simpering, dimpled, larger than life star that is Shah Rukh Khan. Don is no exception, and Shah Rukh hams his way through the movie - whether it's the deadly don on screen, or the naive dancer; what we see is only Shah Rukh Khan. I'm sorry, but not a candle can he hold to the original superstar. Don - 1, Don - 0.

As for the rest, Farhan Akhtar's intention was clearly to bring Don into the 21st century, a la Hollywood. Over the top action sequences, choreographed with today's fashionable disregard for physics, are sprinkled throughout the movie. As are all varieties of high tech gizmos, and the mandatory hot lady in the tight jumpsuit. Too often, all this slickness hinders the tale rather than helping it.

Fortunately, Farhan Akhtar also presents us with that rarest of rarities in hindi movies - a coherent, plausible plot, with almost no holes. The movie is a classic template for how remakes should be made. It updates the setting, making it relevant to today's world. It harkens back to the most loved parts of the original, keeping key dialogues and songs, infusing the movie with an aura of nostalgia. And just when you think you know what's coming next, it deviates from the original, and a new twist throws you off balance. Thus it always maintains its own personality and stands as an entertaining movie in its own right.

The original movie had a simple enough plot. There is the brilliant, sophisticated, ruthless mafia leader who knows no mercy. Then one day, the don meets his maker, but only one police officer knows of his death. So the police officer recruits a lookalike to take his place, a naive, unsophisticated, illiterate street performer. The police officer trains the street performer to shed his rude, illiterate ways, and act with the cool sophistication of the don. The street performer then takes the don's old place in the gang, risking his life to ferret out their secrets. But just at the moment of his triumph, when the police have arrested the whole gang on his tip-off, the one person who knows his true identity is killed. And the poor man is trapped in a nightmare, on the run from the police who don't believe his story and the criminals who do.
That was the USP of the original plot - an ordinary man in over his head, transported to a world far from his humble origins, and then trapped by a cruel twist of fate. The poignancy and drama of his situation, captured in that iconic song "Khaike Paan Benares wala".

Farhan Akhtar's Don wisely does not rely on twists copied from the original movie. It maintains plot fidelity for the most part. Kareena Kapoor sizzles through "Yeh mera dil" as she tries to avenge the death of her fiance, and Shah Rukh Khan sizes her up as he tells her - "You know the gun has no bullets, and I know the gun has no bullets, but the police don't know". Priyanka Chopra then takes on the role of avenger, in an Angelina Jolie-esque tough girl character. Shah Rukh Khan chooses to reprise his Baazigar crazy-dual personality as the don, while making little attempt to flesh out the good guy role. The first half sometimes feels like a recap, characters are brought in without proper introduction, events unfold rather hurriedly, without much background. The emphasis is on technical slickness and eye candy. But right before the intermission is a deviation from the story, the first hint that this is not just a slicked up carbon copy. The second half pays much more attention to plot. For once, main characters show street smarts when dealing with the villains, and get even rather than getting mad. If you can look past the ridiculously over-the-top rescue sequence, matched only by the suicidal escape, the second half plays out quite well. It builds up through a series of exciting stand-offs to a dramatic ending, that totally vindicates the movie.

In short, when the director is not trying to prove his Hollywood smarts with imaginative action sequences, sci-fic gadgetry and novel camerawork, it is actually quite a good movie.

2006-07-11T21:18:00.000-07:00

I could write about the global significance of terrorism, but I cannot get my mind to step back and take the dispassionate bird's eye view this requires. Why? Because I am angry, I am furious - and my anger is aimed at the "government" of India. The terrorists are the enemy, these actions are what we expect of them. But the ones who let us down today are the same ones who let us down each time - those who are supposed to protect us. Let me tell you quite honestly, I am sick of hearing about the "spirit of Mumbai" and the "resilience of Mumbaikars". Those threadbare platitudes have worn thin.

The first time I heard these phrases was 13 years ago, when Dawood's henchmen set off serial bomb blasts at various sites of economic and symbolic significance in Mumbai. There were images of stockbrokers pulling bodies out of the Bombay stock exchange; commandeering private vehicles to take the injured to hospitals; working tirelessly and willingly to help their colleagues and business rivals. The next time I visited Bombay, I saw a billboard that said : March 12, 1993 : serial bomb blasts rock Bombay. March 13, 1993 : 99% attendance in offices. Salaam Bombay! That brought tears to my eyes. There was no questioning the strong, resilient spirit of Bombay.

Last year, Bombay suffered through an unprecedented torrent of rain - 37 inches in 24 hours. More than a thousand people died. Millions, literally millions, were stranded - in offices, on train stations, on the road, in buses. I anxiously followed the story over that modern marvel, the internet. The horror stories poured in, but they were drowned out by the inspiring stories that came out. The whole city came together in this moment of crisis, and formed one gigantic volunteer organization. Everybody from slum dwellers in rags to middle class moms lined the roads to help stranded travellers trekking home through miles of flooded streets. Some brought food and water to the exhausted travellers, others pointed out dangerous patches in the road and recommended safer paths. Many helped trapped passengers escape from buses and cars, some even opened their homes so the commuters could rest and freshen up before continuing the long journey. Web sites created impromptu information centers; message boards on which people posted and sought information; contacted concerned family members, I even remember a news site organizing a citizen rescue operation after they got a desperate call for help from a stranded passenger on a double decker bus. Truly, the "spirit of Mumbai" was in full force, it was an awe inspiring display of comradeship and humanity.

So then what am I complaining about? Let me tell you.. the reports today said that upto 30 mins after the bomb blasts, no police were on the scene. Passengers on the trains, volunteers, were dragging bodies out of the wreckage, were bundling injured people off to hospitals in rickshaws. It is wonderful that they did it - but it is atrocious that they had to! Ofcourse I understand that such a situation would overwhelm any city's infrastructure, nor do I blame the police or firemen. They have the same "spirit" as everyone else in Bombay and they did the best they could with the tools they have. But their best is just not good enough. When will we wake up and smell the sewage? Roads riddled with potholes, dams bursting, emergency services that take half an hour to respond to an emergency (not to mention a "disaster relief agency" that couldnt convene because of the disaster)? And this is the most modern, richest city in India! So much for India Shining.

The wonderful Mumbaikars come together in extraordinary displays of courage and selflessness because they know they have to. They know the system can't be relied on, they know the disaster relief is a joke. They know if they don't step up and help, no one will. And so they take on all those roles the government has abdicated - rescue workers, emergency services, ambulance drivers. Then they pick up the pieces and go home - and watch the politicians praise their "resilience" on TV. Enough resilience, enough going on with life as usual. How about some outrage? How about stopping and saying that things are different, life isnt the same? The crux of a democracy is accountability - if we let the politicians act like nothing's happened, they will. We have to put our collective foot down and demand action. Two hundred of us were killed - in a cowardly act of terrorism. We want the culprits brought to justice, the real culprits, not some low level stool pigeons. Stop taking things lying down - enough is enough. Say that Mumbai is done tolerating - it wants justice!