et cetera

sf

Sun, 05 Jul 2009 09:20:02 GMT

boats at pier 39
Originally uploaded by pugmarx

...so it's been more than a month here in "San Fran" and now, as the number of days left are getting struck out, the excitement is increasing. I was wondering, apart from the socio-political obligations (sometimes aka 'expectations'), what would be the first thing I do when I reach? Maybe I'll ask wifey to prepare tea. Although it sounds very mundane that a person would have tea once he's back. I mean, what could be so special about it. But the gravity of the crave could only be realised by someone who's been away from a good tea for that long. So, done! Tea it would be!
Not that I'm not having tea here, but it lacks the punch of its Indian cousins -- something which you get after you put the milk, and keep it boiling for long.....and then by several times playing the game of making it boil up to the brim and then quickly lower the flame. [one feels so "in control" -- sort of like, "fooled ya! din't I?!"]. Ah! the little joys of life. :)

So anyways, it was 4th of July today, and there were, of course, a number of events lined up at various places. The only one which did interest me was a series of live performances by local rock bands at Pier 39. I decided to go for it. But what I didn't realize was that being a weekend, the Caltrain schedule was screwed. So I did reach there, but missed the first performance by half an hour. The other performance was due towards the night, so I decided to give it a skip.

Hung around for about an hour at the Pier, visited N*L official store and was almost about to pick a Raiders sweatshirt, when I noticed a 'For Her' on the tag. Damn! That was the only decent (non short-stint-in-Amreeka-at-company-expense) looking sweatshirt there.
So ended up returning quite bored, pissed, and tired.

Upon reaching San Mateo, and still struggling with the guilt of "long weekend pe kuchh nahi kiya", decided to go for the fireworks show at Foster City. That happened to turn out nice -- more so because that was the first time I realized that there are so many people staying around.

So that's it.

Scrum

Mon, 15 Jun 2009 23:43:43 GMT

Why is it that everyone becomes so quiet only when it's your turn in the daily stand-ups. And there you were, thinking that this too shall pass since everyone is joking around, and no one's actually listening. You try to chuckle and smile past it, in your opening statements, but suddenly everyone is serious, and seems really keen on knowing what you did.
Sometimes one just feel like confessing, "actually i just updated my Facebook profile...", but then the previous guy had just discussed something which seems similar to devising a next generation rocket propulsion.
Not that updating the Facebook profile requires much less a brain-work (you want to sound interesting, and smart, and honest, all at the same time (more so, if you're unmarried) ), but one has to sound "productive" and "profitable" in the current situation. So then you unleash your imagination and apply a decorator to your, in layman's language, "time-pass".
*Sigh*, how I love scrums!

What the...

Mon, 08 Jun 2009 20:19:08 GMT

Don't understand why some people use their cell phones like Graham Bell.
Does it make any difference?

The "V"

Sun, 31 May 2009 05:29:08 GMT

What's with all the people doing a "V" when being clicked? I mean, what victory are they celebrating?...are they direct descendants of Changez Khan? Even if they are, c'mon, it's been some time since he did something.
And if the rationale is that it's a peace sign, then, what do they expect -- their pictures will be seen by people in the war-trodden zones or what.
Lastly, to all the people who are (still) making a "V" on other people's heads when a picture is being taken: please understand that it is not funny anymore. It's a stone-age antic. Seriously. Please. Stop.

"Cracking Contraptions"

Fri, 10 Apr 2009 20:30:27 GMT

Last three evenings of mine were utilised (yes, not just spent) in doing something interesting, so I thought of sharing the experience. The outcome was not cent-percent what I had originally planned, but I would say I could achieve eighty percent of the task I had set out for.
I am so keen on sharing this, because after a long time I could get back to things which I loved to do as a kid (and beyond)....which somehow got lost in the oblivion, mostly because I've always had so varied interests that it's difficult to pursue each of them.
Anyways, enough of groundwork, let's get to the story.

So here goes:
It all started many many years ago, a kid was always interested in electronics -- although he didn't understand the circuits or any of its components, but he was good at breaking things and observing it. By seventh standard he had a full set of 'electronics repairing kit' with him. It had a Soldering Iron (a must-have), set of tiny and tiny-tiny screw drivers -- enough to break into any kind of electronic gadget -- some old resistors, some DC bulbs (which he'd flicked from his dad's LML Vespa), a LML Vespa beeper (the thing that beeps when you switch the indicator button). He also had a collection of DC motors of various kinds, and voltage ranges. He was particularly fond of multi-voltage adapters because they helped him test everything with different voltages and see its effect. The only thing he had always longed for, and couldn't ever get was a multi-meter.
(OK enough of blabberring in 3rd person)

I was very fond of the beeper I had flicked from Dad's Vespa. I used it to make some games, which worked on the basic principle of a circuit getting complete and the beeper going off. One day Mom got me a dynamo (after much pleading and begging) and I was on top of the world. Within the next few months that dynamo was being used for something totally different than its original purpose (a hopeless headlamp for the bicycle). I used the Vespa beeper and concealed it under the seat of my bicycle, I grounded it below the seat itself, and I thought it'd be so cool to show everyone that my bicycle had a horn (that meekly beep). Then I took the other wire, and put it in the dynamo, and grounded the circuit on the body itself. The other wire I took upto the handle and the beeper used to go of whenever I touched the wire on the handle, because of the circuit completing.

I thought I had the coolest bike ever!!

It so happened one day that it was drizzling, and I was acting cool, and I had wrapped the wire in my thumb, and was riding at a high speed, because a higher voltage would give out a louder beep -- I touched the wire on the handle bar, and there was a small spark, and a voltage of ~12V DC, went around my body. It was a very small current, but it was enough to make realize, that OK, maybe naked wires, and a current, and rain were not conducive to ride a bike. :)

Few years later, I, and as nutty a friend had realized that we're crazy about music, but both of us didn't have anything to "play it loud". We, in consultation with a friend, who owned an electronics-cum-music shop and had a diploma in electronics, made an amplifier -- good enough to shake our house: We didn't have a PCB (for an amplifier), and were on a shoestring budget. The only thing we did have was the 'electronics repairing kit' and a lot of yearning for loud music.
We got a simple circuit mesh, and the other components as suggested by our electronics-guru friend. However since he had a shop to take care of, he used to draw us a circuit diagram and a lot was left upon us to discover and do on our own. We used a simple copper wire to create the base circuit, and soldered all the components. The IC that we used was a very basic -- a mono-amplifier one. After about a month of fiddling, the amplifier come out to be a fairly decent one. It even had a bass and treble control. I got a good enough six-inch subwoofer and a tweeter for about Rs. 200. Later on, we kept on improvising on the amplifier, and after few months it started to resemble the amplifier that pan-wallahs keep (with lots of dancing LEDs and what not!).
Much later, we had a carpenter working in our house and I finally got a decent hard-board casing made for the woofer. I sealed it with M-seal.
That amplifier stayed with me for the rest of the time I was at home, and I loved it -- it was one of my biggest feats as kid, and I was proud of it.
Later on, I never got the chance or motivation to work upon any other Cracking Contraption, but the longing remained. And always will! :)

---
The rest of the text qualifies to be separately posted on 'the other' journal. Faint-hearted may discontinue here. :)
[15 years later]
---

Earth Hour

Thu, 12 Mar 2009 17:21:07 GMT

If you haven't yet, then please do sign-up.

Earth Hour 2009 by WWF - Sign up for Earth Hour!

Ali Ashraf

Mon, 09 Mar 2009 18:22:22 GMT

He got his first computer in '99. His enthusiasm to learn about it matched, and sometimes surpassed mine. He was more of a friend to me than anything else. I loved the way he expressed himself, so calm and composed, and the words he chose from the vast vocabulary of his, gelled into one-another and formed a synchrony. He was 85.

Dr. Ali Ashraf was our neighbour for few years before his demise. I remember him as a man of a definite composure and panache. His hair, and beard were all white as milk, and he seemed proud of it. His laugh at things he found funny was a harmony of crystal clear "hah"s...a distinctive "hah-hah-hah"...and not a chuckle. He never seemed to be worried about his ailments: as if he knew it's no use discussing them, especially with me. His frequent visits to AIIMS were just a way of life for him. On winter Sundays one could find him basking in the sunlight in his well-cushioned cane chair, deeply engrossed in one of the zillion books from his library. His had a collection of innumerable books, many of which, I believe he had authored.

Almost all the seemingly underutilized places in his house had been converted into a book racks -- much to his wife's plight -- over the years, she seemed to have become fed-up of his fondness for books. And over the years, her nature seemed to have adapted itself to compliment her husband's. They completed one-another.

He always brought about conversations which were of my interest...computers mostly. Often he would borrow my Aptech books, which spoon-feed you about MS Office, and go through each of the lessons carefully. Sometimes, he would call me if he had a doubt. Sometimes, he would call me just like that, for a cup of tea in the evening, which I felt uneasy about at that time, but now I regret of having missed the opportunity.
Ashraf uncle had been a freelance journalist most part of his life. He had spent a considerable time in Moscow, although he never mentioned that. In fact, our discussions were never about his achievements, or any particular individual. He would often share anecdotes, which, I think, he presumed might tickle my funny bone. One such anecdote that he told me twice was his about his encounter with a renowned personality of his time named Ashraf Ali. I still remember him narrating the incident of a gathering of some politically influential people where Mr. Ashraf Ali told him that their names were similar in that they had the same words in a reverse order. To which, Ashraf uncle replied:
"Mein Ali ko zyada ehmiyat deta hun" (I give more importance to Ali). This was followed by the great laugh of his, because, I think, this would have left the former speechless.

I do not think Ashraf uncle practiced any religion besides humanitarianism. The only thing religious about him, was just his name.
I got to know about his demise when I was in Mumbai. I imagined him passing away peacefully, contented, because I think he belonged to that rare category of people who spend each phase of their life the way they want, and not how the world wants them to. I miss him. Peace be upon him.

Every rose...has its thorns

Mon, 01 Sep 2008 17:13:49 GMT

Rains always fascinate me. Maybe everyone. It's been raining cats and dogs in this part of the world, just as everyone was about to give up any hopes from whatever remains of the so-called monsoons. Pleasant surprise I must say. And a lot of it! Maybe we don't even need a meteorological department. All they do is confuse people. Adds to the surprise factor though. :)

I've not updated the journal in some time. But then again, shouldn't attribute it to the lack of time. Had ample of it to spare. I guess, I wanted the things to be in order, before I'd jot something down.
Had an adventurous June involving many vital decisions -- changed the job, changed the city. Finding a house in the new place was a daunting task on it's own. Guess that'd qualify for a separate post altogether.

I moved out from the 'city of blinding lights' to a place, which could as well be considered a 'city with light (power) crises'(Pune). :) But, I'm not complaining. There are other factors: I've loved the weather thus far, and hopefully, I'd love it even more in the time to come.
I guess it's always a big decision, leaving a well-settled, and comfortable life, and taking a leap of faith. I wouldn't say I was dissatisfied with my last job. But, over time, I'd stopped feeling that I'm being able to give my hundred percent to it. There was a slight mismatch between the required skill-set, and what I could offer. I'm indebted to the people of my last company that they could understand what I meant.
So that's that.

Anyways, one good thing about the new company is that they've TT tables, and there's no restriction on timings. So that has become my favourite hangout. That is great because I have not had played TT in years (last I played in NCST, in 2002-03, and a little bit on '04). And given that my monetary situation has improved (a tad bit) from that time, I finally got my hands on a MarkV racquet (as in MarkV on a Butterfly blade) Woohoo! (I'm still unable to win the matches though ;)).
But it's a great feeling. I remember, my last association with MarkV was when I was little, and went to practice TT in AMU's Strachey Hall. I guess I was eight or nine. I and dad had gone to Delhi to get it. But we just got the rubber for one side of the racquet -- that served the purpose.

[Flashback: An interesting aspect (read: charm) of my and dad's visit to Delhi used to be having a masala dosa at the Railway Canteen on the first platform of New Delhi railway station. I was crazy for it. It was, iirc, for Rs.6/-. I discreetly remember that was a must thing for us, as soon as we landed in Delhi, for whatever work.
Later on, when I used to go to Delhi with friends, Keventer's, Nirula's (and later-on the great McD) started getting preference over the good ol' dosa. I had to go with the flow. But I guess, the longing always remained.
In April this year I was in New Delhi, my train was delayed, so I decided to invest my time to pamper my taste buds again. I visited the Railway Canteen. And there it was, the same dosa, the same mess (pun intended), and the same taste. Inflation, though, had played its part -- it was for Rs.12/-.]

Till now, I've been trying to adjust with the laid-back lifestyle here. For that matter, they say any place would seem laid-back after having stayed in Mumbai for some time (six odd years, in my case). Since I don't have a vehicle, I have to frequently entrust the plying to autos -- which, it seems, are mostly run by robbers, dacoits, and crooks after a rehab programme. I mean, one look at them and you seriously doubt their need to be doing this job. Most of them, it seems, can very well qualify to be wrestlers. It's easy to imagine, therefore, that it's not difficult for them to extort whatever they feel like from unsuspecting (and thoroughly scared) passengers. Moreover, if they realize that the 'victim' is from any place to the North of this state, it gets worse. Whatever follows then could very well be associated with a imaginary situation where Coyote has finally got hold of Road Runner.

But this Road Runner lives on, albeit with some ruffled feathers. :)

IT boom: side-effects

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 09:59:59 GMT

Business-savvy people know very well how to tap an opportunity. The other day Sid told me about a paanwaala near an-IT-park who's come-up with a paan known as IT paan -- the specialty being that it doesn't leave any reddish traces in or around your mouth. :)
With this improvisation, it could, of course, be had at any time of the day, without the chances of inviting weird glances from your colleagues. ;)

O tempora! O mores! (revisited)

Mon, 07 Jul 2008 17:19:09 GMT

IndiaTV: taking journalism to a new low.

Tweets for Today

Mon, 23 Jun 2008 13:25:55 GMT

13:08 tried the delhi metro today. impressed! had a splendid weekend in delhi! on the way back now.
in other news...they found ice on mars!! :o #

From twitter.com/naqi.

Tweets for Today

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 13:44:24 GMT

17:33 on the way home, almost missed the train from delhi!! :P #

From twitter.com/naqi.

Tweets for Today

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 13:20:08 GMT

22:21 Damn this useless isp! ! #

From twitter.com/naqi.

Firefox3

Sat, 31 May 2008 16:23:49 GMT

...as a token of appreciation!

...of smell and music

Wed, 14 May 2008 17:31:53 GMT

It's amusing how we associate certain things. For instance smells (fragrances), or, things like a particular song or music, with certain places, people or events, which may have been significant to us at some point of time. Actually, come to think of it, I'm not sure if it's just me, or whether it happens with everyone. It happens with me a lot. I could attribute this to my strong sense of smell. (No, I'm pretty far from any association with the canine family, before anyone's imagination starts flowing.)

I'll quote a few such instances:
When I had completed my XII (somehow), I and dad went to Ooty with a cousin's family. I remember carrying a Rexona Cool Blue deo (yeah, I know, it's probably the crappiest deo one could ever get, but due to my monetary constraints that was the best deal at that time) with me. I had used it extensively, owing to my new-found charm (discovery) to smell, what i thought, 'good'. I never used that deo again, but still, whenever I come across that smell, I can associate it with Ooty (yeah yeah...that-blurry-flashback, in which I have long side-locks and I'm running around in bell-bots and polka-dotted shirt). Oh, and BTW, didn't like Ooty at all. :P So that smell, doesn't bring about any fond memories as such.

Much fonder a memory is associated with a song. I remember I was in Bucharest for some time, I was alone, and lonely and bored. Anyway, I got up one fine day, and saw little cotton balls floating around everywhere. That's when I first witnessed a snowfall. It was one of the best sights ever. The only issue was, I didn't have any umbrella (geez, I don't know why I hear "eh-eh-eh" in the back of my mind whenever I utter the word "umbrella"). But since I was on a support-project ('onsite-assignment' to everyone back home), I had to be in office.
As I mentioned, since I used to feel pretty lonely there, my only company was the little iPod that I had. It was my best buddy (no I didn't call it 'Mr. Apple'). So I plugged it in, and braved my way to through that snow. That was the first time I felt those-little-cotton balls, and wondered how they disappeared as soon as they fell on me. There was one song playing, 'Expression of Love' by Trilok Gurtu (from Dor). I don't know why, I kept playing that song in a loop, maybe because I could associate it with the pleasant chill, the wonder of nature; till the time I walked up to office, being awed by the whiteness all around.

Today, I heard that song again, and hence this post.

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 15:58:41 GMT

Hope to see some of you at BlogCampMumbai this Saturday.:)

Update: Didn't see anyone! :(

Random thoughts

Sat, 08 Mar 2008 21:42:15 GMT

M was telling me about a recent encounter he had with a potential ~~matrimony~~ spouse over a dinner. I don't know why, maybe the way he narrated it..I laughed so much after a very long time. According to him, the dialogue went something like this:

...
Potential Spouse (PS): ...ummm...yeah...now-a-days even average people are able to get into big companies...
M: excuse me...but I'm below average
...
PS: So what are your hobbies...?
M: [Thinking: Damn!, I could never answer this question properly in any interview]
...

Needless to say, "ye shaadi nahi ho sakti!." :)

--
Watched Jodhaa-Akbar with parcmella today. On the whole, I liked it. Considering the fact that it's a produce of Bollywood, I was impressed by the massiveness of the whole thing. I also loved the music.
Poor parcmella endured the entire movie, of which, I guess, he could only decipher bits and pieces, while I was totally engrossed in it.
Afterwards, found a number of people mocking at the dialogues, maybe because they didn't understand the language. Hmmm.

--
In other news, came back to motherland last weekend. Now I want to stay here for some time. Enough of traveling. Phew! :P

--
In view of the recent events in this part of the world, I guess, I better lie low -- lest some 'sons of soil' come and beat the living daylights out of me. I qualify in more than one categories. :D
On a serious note though, it's pitiful: Is there an end to the number of categories you could further polarize the people?

Airshow

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 17:47:57 GMT

Jitin. Ajeeta and I visited the Airshow on Sunday. I reached late and missed the best part -- the Black Knights' performance. I regret that.
Nevertheless, the rest of the show was also quite breathtaking.

From Singapura II

Linked is whatever I could capture with the little camera that I had. Also, find some pictures from the static aircraft display. I loved the Apache, and F-18.

The power of a can!

Sun, 24 Feb 2008 12:35:00 GMT

Back in Singapore since the last couple of weeks, and have had some strange observations: 'Can' is a word that is used, reused, shopworn, and banally abused like no other. And not just for its usual meaning. Rather, it's after having been here that you could truly appreciate the power of this little word. Some situations:

1. Q: Could I exchange this with that?
A: Can! (or "Can can!" with the vigorous nodding of the head, if it's really trivial)

2. Q: Could I also opt for another option...?
A: Also can!

3. Q: Could you give me this instead of that and that instead of this (a complex scenario)?
A: Can not! (and if the other party is courteous enough, s/he would also give a suggestion: This instead of that can!)

A friend of mine was telling me the plight of one of his friend once, when he unfortunately asked for a can of Coke, at a grocery. The answer he got was:
"Coke can also can and no can also can" :o)

So you see the power of 'can'? Can?

Another journal

Thu, 24 Jan 2008 05:12:55 GMT

I have a teeny-weeny presence on LJ, elsewhere too. Updated after a long time today.

Hmmm..

Wed, 02 Jan 2008 03:50:14 GMT

Taare Zameen Par happens to be the first movie I intentionally watched twice in a cinema. Guess I did like it.

Not-so-fond memories...

Sat, 29 Dec 2007 18:19:29 GMT

I have a very few fond memories from my school. I hated it. I've never gone back to it, once I got out of it. I have the ugliest memories from my school. Though, the friends I made there still happen to be the amongst the best of my friends.

It was a convent, and I remember in kindergarten, I had no clue what was going on, what am I supposed to do. No one bothered too. With a class of 75, cranky and as clueless kids, it was difficult. I was amongst the slowest students in the class. I discreetly remember my class teacher made me sit in the front-bench, and was telling a colleague of hers "ye weak student hai."
I flunked in kindergarten.

When the session started again, the first sentence that my class-teacher said to me on the very first day was..."arrey tum phir se yahin ho?" (oh...u're here again?) I didn't know what to reply, I just nodded in affirmation. That year, somehow, I cleared. I remember getting 73rd rank or something like that.

I got a beating in almost every class in the 12 years of my schooling.

In standard 4th, I got used to beating so much, that there was one time, that my class-teacher thought that I'd not done the homework, and came towards me. I didn't protest and brought my face forth her to slap. But I don't know how she glanced at my note-book, and said..."why're you getting ready for a slap when you've done the homework." I didn't say anything.
In that very year, she once made me stand as a punishment once, and I was not feeling well. So I told the girl sitting next to me, that I think I'm getting dizzy. That nutcase informed the teacher, and the teacher became panicky. The next moment my punishment was overruled, and I was given cold water, and moved to a seat below the fan. Her name was 'Mamta' Jain. Totally misfit a name I think. :)

In standard 2nd, I remember the class-teacher talking about my religion in not a very nice way. She said that "'they' are merciless, keep killing innocent animals for food". I didn't protest, but someone else did by trying to provide a logical reasoning. He was mocked-at and asked to sit down. That evening I told my dad about it. He didn't say anything either.

In standard 6th I got punished by a temporary teacher, and I was asked to stand outside the class. The principal was passing by and saw me punished. She shook me so hard by the ears that my book tore and fell on the ground. That's when she stopped. I got so frustrated I contemplated jumping from that third floor, where the class was, and die. I used to think it was the only way to teach everyone a lesson. I never tried that though. Her name was sister Isabella.

In standard 8th, the usual trend of getting beaten almost everyday was on. But in the parents-teachers meeting, my class-teacher who used to beat me found out that my dad was her teacher when she was doing B.Ed. The beatings completely stopped after that. I was given extra attention, and never beaten, thereafter. She used to teach us Physics. I remember having scored the very good marks in Physics in the class tests because I started liking Physics, and the Physics teacher was obligated to like me. :)

In standard 6th, we had a new computer teacher. He was a frustrated, plump, chunk of a man. He used to beat everyone just like that. It was a typical case of 'power in the wrong hands.' In class 6th, on some petty matter, he shook me by the hair, I don't remember if he slapped me. But I think he would have had. When you're shaking someone by the hair, you've to end it with a slap to complete the procedure I guess. It's like a sign-off.
I felt very bad, because he did it in front of the girl I used to like. Anyway, I used to like computers, so I scored well in it. To his surprise, I guess.

Outside of the class, there were other people, who, I guess, didn't want their status to be undermined by the fact that they were not actually "subject-teachers." They, therefore, highlighted their presence, and their definition of respect by thrashing students.

One such person was "Veera Khan." When we were little, she was the Physical Training (PT) instructor. Apart from that, she also checked nails, shoes etc. When I was in standard 3rd, I remember her caning the entire class on the legs, because we were "creating chaos."

Okay, the cause of this sudden blurt of not-so-fond memories is because I watched "Taare Zameen Par" last week, and there were so many things in it that I could relate to when it comes to school. "Terror" and "Humiliation" were the tools that were most often used to mould us into becoming better students. Never worked for me though. Also, I wasn't dyslexic.

Do watch the movie.

Zalim Chai

Mon, 17 Dec 2007 02:54:46 GMT

In Singapore since sometime now...and nothing impressed me more at this place than a refreshing cup of tea. Yes, the good old tea -- just like the one that I used to get at home (Aligarh.) It's not like the overly sweetened and milky versions that we get in the Iranian restaurants (or Udipis) of Mumbai. Nor is it like the Cheeni Kum/Paani Zyada/something or the other kam or zyada that you get in Mumbai tapris. It's just right!

You get this kind of tea almost everywhere. Our favourite hangouts happen to be places like 'Toast Box' or 'Kaya Toast' where people come for a quick breakfast/evening snack of a toasted bread -- accompanied by various options of bread and jam or Kaya with half-boiled eggs. Accompanied with tea it becomes a zalim (no, no other word suits better, if you don't know what zalim means, ask someone!) combination. :)

Baksheesh

Sun, 11 Nov 2007 14:08:56 GMT

Come Diwaali time, and free tips or "Baksheesh" become the order of the day. Suddenly so many people, many of whom you can bet - you've never seen in your life, come and start asking for it. In most of the cases you want to be politically correct, not act like a penny-pincher, and more often than not, pay for your goodwill.
The last part seems to play a major role in cases like mine, where I'm not a native of this part of the world, nor do I belong to the 'majority community', and I have none, whatsoever, political connections.
I, therefore, shouldn't have any hassle paying up. And I don't :); being the God-fearing person that I am. God fearing in the sense that I fear meeting God at such a tender age -- the prime of my youth.

Anyway, so I was talking about tips. Different people have different ways of asking for it. For instance, we came across and auto-wallah (a bhaiyya from UP/Bihar -- OK OK, person from the place I belong) and when the journey was over, he was the least bit modest:
"Saab, diwaali ka time hai" (Sir, it's _that_ time of the year), and an anxious face to show that we're doing something majorly incorrect by asking for the change.
Little did he know that I'm traveling with a Mallu...and pat came the reply: "Diwaali time hai to aap paisa bhi mat lou" (if it's _that_ time of the year, then why are you charging in the first place.) ;)
But then, I played the regionalism card (c'mon everyone does), and the auto-wallah's wish was granted.

However, if you come across the auto-wallahs from Mumbai, then they have a psycho-analytical approach. They needn't plead for a tip; instead, when the journey ends, and you pay-up, there is a delay in returning the change, with a studied non-chalance.
Those few seconds of silence speak more than the UP-bhaiyya's "It's that time of the year". You can shoo it off and be adamant for your change, or you could give-in.
You're made to be in those moments of tryst when you have Good and Bad angels on either side, and you're in the middle, waiting for your 'meager' change. Just that, invariably, your Good angel has very cordial relations with the Bad angel of the auto-wallah. :)

Oh, how I love this place!

Thu, 27 Sep 2007 16:39:38 GMT

Hmm...I'm in Chennai since the last few days. I like it. The food (one of my prime concerns in any city) is good. I pounce on every chance of devouring a dosa. And every time I do, how I curse the convoluted versions of dosa that we get back in Mumbai. I love the sambhar, and coconut chutney that they give.
Okay, I suddenly realised I'm very hungry, gotta go. *Poof*

Psst: People here are also generally very courteous; and honk much less (again comparative).