Floundering Flights of the Flaky Fingers

Media matters

2008-06-09T13:52:00.000-07:00

I am not a movie buff - by any means. There are times when I like to curl up with a book in my hand and pore through it rather than watch a movie outside. Still, I do like watching movies occasionally. I watched Sarkar Raj on Friday night. I enjoyed the movie. I felt that it was well thought out, well laid out, and well performed. Everyone associated with the movie seems to have put in sincere effort that overall has worked. The script was powerful and except for the shooting scene (not mentioning which one, to avoid being a spoiler), it was reasonably smooth(and when I say that, it means I like it quite a bit!) In any case, I found myself thinking about this movie even after we got home. So I spent some time reading up what other people were thinking about it. I found myself observing some interesting 'typical' behaviors that the 'media face' is displaying.

Just in general, media in India is evolving and catching up with it's developmentally advanced relative in the US. And yet, it seems doomed to make the exact same mistakes that media here has already committed. Personally I see the overhype around things as detestable layers of grease around an otherwise delectable bite of food.

1. Reviews/critiques are useful feedback mechanisms for real areas of improvement for those passionate about creating good cinema/literature or anything of entertainment value. Unfortunately, these cannot entirely be isolated from one person's interpretation or opinion of the movie etc. Still, it is the topmost responsibility of a film's critic to be specific, clear and concise about the flaws that they perceive rather than slobbering their verdict with 'media grease' to increase their own masala value.

2. Reviews are also useful to many people who are on the fence on whether they want to watch a movie or not. Once the movie has been watched and enjoyed, if one hasnt noticed some major flaws (like say, too many close ups in Sarkar Raj), what does one care whether critic XYZ felt that way or not. Perhaps critics should have different sections in their critiques - one detailing the concept, script, theme and feel of the movie, and another detailing the technical aspect. That would also necessitate critics to make detailed and researched statements rather than kicking up dust because they feel like it.

3. It has really started to feel like the media is tripping over its feet in slathering the actual pivotal components of a movie and its art value with all the other spices. For instance, there is way too much discussion about the three Bachchans appearing together in the movie. What's with every interviewer asking each of them whether they enjoyed working with each other? Do they hope that at least one of them will lapse at least once and say, "It is bad enough meeting the other two at home, and I hated having to be with them on the sets". Come on. Agreed, they are a talented and interesting family. We feel like knowing more about them perhaps, but what's the obsession over the threesome above the movie itself? Surely they would have enjoyed working on it, but it's not a home video, and they are professionals... they would give it the same effort they would their other projects.

4. I was reading entries in the past few days on the Big B's blog (http://bigb.bigadda.com) and it felt like he is taking so much effort to truthfully reach out to the real audience of his work without having to maneuvre countless media aspects and their (mis)interpretations. It is almost like he doesnt mind communicating as long as he can get his entire message through before someone in the media interupts with, "So, when you say ABC, you actually mean PQR, dont you?" Who really needs an interpreter to tell them what he means? Let there be clear communication, and let people choose whether to idolise, or take his views with a pinch on salt. For my part, I found reading his blog refreshing. He comes across as earnest and straight. He has great command over language(s), and he shares his thoughts on his day to day living experiences conversationally, the way they should be shared. Add to that the fact that he can express himself without being 'framed' (pun intended) and constrained by an interviewer with some agenda or the other.

So anyway, it would be nice if there was a better balance between what people are expecting to learn from the media and the not-so-little extra bit that the media routinely dishes out.

Hang in there

2007-09-26T23:16:00.001-07:00

I was talking to a friend today and he was upset about living in the United States. The conversation turned to stereotypes. He is tired of interacting with the same, typical techno worker Desi. Limited interests, geeky, limited to the same set of friends weere some of his complaints against this Desi stereotype. He says he wants to move back to India; where he is a First Class Citizen, where he has variety, in people, in food, in things to do. I was playing Devil's advocate to his argument,convincing him that the grass is always greener on the other side. Nobody is holding us down or tying us to anything. In fact, we are all here of our own volition, and in fact, most of us worked hard to get here. Nobody has stopped us from doing anything different, stepping out of line. Sure, our presence in the country is tied to our jobs, but that doesnt feature in most of our day-to-day activities. Basically we've gotten used to the whole situation. On the contrary, I feel scared about what to expect if and when I do return to my homeland. I have a snapshot of the things I love about India... and every trip back home makes me feel displaced in time. Malls on every corner, school kids with cellphones, multiplexes, bistros, 100 rupee coffees... all these are not part of my 'Indian dream'. Plus, I deal with constant worry and guilt towards my filial responsibilities. How do I 'be there' for my parents without being there? It would be too cruel to displace them from their roots to allay my worries. Plus, I dont know what my long term plan is. Am I doing something morally incorrect by paying taxes in a different country than the one in which I did my schooling? The world is becoming a global villge, should I still be thinking in terms of 'us' and 'them'? I want to meet all those Uncles and Aunties who looked over me when I was a child... not learn about their passing one by one, from my parents on the phone. Yes, I miss the food. I miss the diversity. I know I will find a million things to complain about once I am there. At the moment, I am only hanging in here. Not sad... yearning, but not complaining. Maybe in a little while I will tip over to the side my friend was representing. And probably neither of us will do anything about the churn inside, because we read the immigration news so avidly after all!!

Win some... lose some :(

2007-09-16T19:44:00.000-07:00

What a fiasco! Still feeling bad about it, but also have a new goal now. Need to work on the swimming bit! So the story is that I had to pull out of the kirkland triathlon because I couldnt finish the swimming leg! Lake Washington seemed threatening in choppy, billowing waters; the mental part of not having any support got to me; and the advice of a lifeguard - to pull out - hit hard. I basically need to learn to swim properly.
Had been scared of the waters all the way, but today's experience teaches me to check my basics first. So, next year. Gotta wash the memories of this failure off. Well, Congrats to Kintan, Abhijat and Mitika who did finish it!! That's one good thing :)

STP 2007 - Been there, done that

2007-07-18T16:03:00.000-07:00

The much-anticipated STP weekend was July 14 and 15. Considering I bought my bike at the end of May, I know there was some craziness involved there. But well, now that it's done, who is to say so? :) But the most interesting things that led up to the day are worth mentioning.
Friday morning: (STP - 1) day:The earlier San Juan biking experience had taught me two things about cleats - 1) that they really do increase efficiency, and 2) that they hurt a lot if they are even slightly tight. (Cleats are clips that attach to two nails under biking shoes. They clip you on to the pedals so that there is efficient transfer of power from legs to pedals) So in a scramble I went and exchanged my cleats for a larger size. Now, on Friday the 13th I realized that I would have to try my shoes on at least once before regretting it over 2 painful days. So, I fitted the cleats onto my shoes and took my bike out to the parking lot. Alright, so get on the bike, try one cleat at a time and you'll get it. Except that I lost my balance, couldnt unclip the cleat quickly enough and went bang! It may have been funny to see me sprawled on the ground with one leg still caught on the bike, and the other leg scratched by the chain wheel, but it wasnt then. I was feeling very nervous about the whole thing... but I thot I'd manage somehow. Friday evening was spent in a flurry of packing and checking lists. We were to check in our sleeping bags and luggage bags into the luggage van at the start line. They would be delivered to the destination we had chosen to be our mid way stopover for the night. (We were to stay at Bethel Church at 108 mile distance). Mixing electrolytes, filling water in the camel paks to carry on the back took some more time. Ultimately was able to sleep only around 12am. So much for all the advice about sleeping by 9pm!! Took a bath before sleeping and had kept all my clothes ready for the next morning. Saturday morning: Day 1 of STP
Had a restless night's sleep and got up and out of bed by 4.15 am. Since the bridge to Seattle was closed for repairs, we were supposed to take a longer highway route. Somehow, between Aparajita and I, we managed to get done and leave the house by 5. Abhijat was dropping us to the start line in Seattle as a token of enouragement :-) (And that was what I did need :) ) Traffic was really bad and like us, we saw hundreds of cars with one or more bikes hanging on to their bike racks behind. All heading to the same place. At least there was no chance to get lost!We checked our luggage in, did a few stretches and got in line for the port-a-potty. These mobile restrooms were to be our solace for the next 2 days. The less said about this experience, the better!! It was ages by the time everyone got together and pictures were taken and all that. I wished I'd have slept longer instead!! We FINALLY took off from the start line at 7.12am. Wow!! Off we went! And I was already looking at my mileometer and thinking - hmm.. half a mile done just another 204 miles to go. Vineet was my companion as we biked on. We were literally going at 18 - 20 miles an hour. Along Madison Park (One of the most beautiful areas around Lake Washington), onto Rainier Ave, through Seattle. Chatting... talking about Asha, the organization for which we did this fundraiser ride. BTW, our helmets had a very pretty handmade decoration - two table tennis balls made into a little girl and little boy with a book being shared - the official Asha symbol. In no time we reached the 25 mile mark which was the first food stop... time for breakfast. It was another 45 minutes before we left this spot... restroom, food, timepass... this was much longer than we should have stayed there. So our original group of 10-12 people started to split up into 2-3 people as we started taking off. By now, the sun was already going up and it was getting hotter...I dabbed another layer of sunscreen and went off. I later got to know that it was 91F!!!! All this while I wasnt wearing my cleats. Just biking hard to keep the pace. 10 miles went. Another 5 miles... and then the dreaded Puyallup hill. For goodness sakes!! The heat, the temperature, and this damn hill. I shifted to my lightest gear and kept trudging. Now, I hate to give up on hills, but the heat was really getting to me. People were getting off their bikes all around. And suddenly I dont know why, but I stepped down too. The chest strap for the heart rate monitor was feeling too tight and I could barely fight the incline. Sadly I got down and walked the last 20 steps up. :( One would expect that after such a steep uphill, you would be rewarded by a beautiful downhill... but no. That hill cheated me... it was flat and the road just went on. I was drinking water from my camelbak. At least the pipe didnt make me have to get down for a sip. I could just squeeze the tip with my teeth and water would squirt into my mouth. But somehow, the heat was getting unbearable. I knew that the lunch stop was at 50 miles, so I decided to hold my pace and keep going. "Drink some gatorade, but dont stop". So I kept going. By now, I was in the midst of a crowd of riders none of whom I knew. My mileometer showed 50 miles now, but I didnt see a food stop. Well, maybe another mile. But it was 53 now, and still no stop. Finally at 54.5 miles I saw the STP sign for food. By this time my palms were hot in my gloves, my face was red and my entire body felt very hot. Over the past 25 miles, my shoulders and neck had been hurting and the pain was getting progressively worse. I got into the rest stop and coudnt wait to sit in the shade. The food wasnt that great but I ate anyway. The line outside the restroom was long again... but man, who can complain when you are drinking a gallon of water an hour?! Everyone in my group kept coming in and by the time the last two people came in, I was ready to leave. It was still too hot, but we had to go on. We were just half way there yet. So I took off with Vineet and Narendra. I had just gone 3-4 miles when I started feeling the heat even stronger. It was becoming hard to ride and my eyes were feeling glazed. I was pedalling, but it was getting hard to focus. Headwind was too strong. Again, it was getting hard to breathe. shoulders hurt. I remembered a wise person saying that it was important to realise when to stop and not go on. I decided I had to heed those words. Fortunately, Narendra adn Vineet were just behind me. So I told them I wasnt feeling that great. They stopped for me... so many riders on the way asked if everything was ok and we needed help... those things really touch me. Everyone feels the heat, but they still try to help. And you end up doing the same. :) Ankur came by in a few minutes... I drank plenty of water, took an energy shot and sat in the shade for a few minutes. Then started again, feeling better. I was able to bike to the next mini-stop stop then, where a beautiful shady tree stood. We stopped there for a little while. Caught our breaths while the others caught up with us. And then I got back to normal. That rest was needed and that helped me to continue without any mishaps. We had a lot of laughs there, took pictures and then started again. It was around 2.30 by the time we came to the long bike trail in the woods. Covered with trees on both sides, no traffic lights to wait for, cooler air... maan, this was what I was on that bike for!! :) And now I was back biking with Aparajita, Sree and Srijan with whom I really have a great time! So we were having a lot of fun... with Sree / Srijan taking pics as they rode, and even taking video clips. I saw a shiny snake slithering as fast as it could to get out of the way of the bikers. I said a prayer for it to make it safely on the other side and hoped noone ran over it. There were lakes as we biked on, and even a glimpse was soothing. Sometimes there were dust clouds... sometimes the road was bumpy. Also, you have to follow protocols - with traffic, cars, and other bikers. For a pedestrian you are a car, for a car you are a bike. Hand signals are necessary, and you can only cross a biker from his left. Also, you have to shout 'On your left' before you cross someone so that they dont sudenly move out of line in front of you. Well, you start off merrily shouting 'On your left' but it gradually turns into hissing 'Leffft' as you get tired :) So anyway, we thus pedaled our way to Centralia where the 100 mile mark was. We were looking forward to the free ice cream that we had been told about. Had at least 2 each. Some gluttons in the group had 4! But we were encouraged to eat whatever we could! Moreover, the caloriemeter showed over 3500 calories burnt... so who cares :) A lot of bikers sleepover at Centralia to start early the next morning. They sleep in tents or take rooms. But we had about 8 miles further to go. So around 6.45pm, we started on the short journey ahead, dreaming of a nice shower, good food and a place to rest the already sore back and butt. In my case, my dream was just to take the camelbak off my shoulders!!! But well... whatever comes easy?! At 108, we found ourselves in Chehalis with no sign of Bethel Church. Not many people were around... we had left them at Centralia. Somehow, colelcting titbits of info, we kept going over the next 6 miles... to finally find our resting spot at 114 miles :) We checked in our bikes, got our luggage, and went into the dorm type room were several people were already fast asleep in their sleeping bags. We found our reserved corners - just enough area to spread out the sleeping bag, and keep a chair. I took off my shoes and was thankful for the slippers I had packed in. We headed to the food and ate like wolves! There was pasta and bread and salad. We all devoured it withour relish. Only after that did we think of bathing etc. Once clean, we could sit down outside and talk. Of course I spent some of this time looking for a spot where I had cellphone coverage so I could report to the big boss (read Abhijat) the happenings of the day. My shoulders and neck were excruciating, but by now I had learnt what I needed to do. At Centralia, I had tightened the straps on my camelpak so that it now fit more smugly and that actually reduced the drag on my shoulders. Unfortunately, I already had 100 miles under my pedals before I figured out the correct length. Well, it would help the next day!
So we sat around for a while... some of us took small massages (paid) from the masseuse service there. We ended up going to sleep around 11.30pm after card games, random talk and exchanging experiences.
Sunday : Day 2 of STP
I barely slept throughout the night for fear that everyone in the hall would end up oversleeping and consequently we (or I) would be late in starting the next day. Well, I neednt have worried. Many bikers were already off by 5am. I woke up at 5 and got ready almost immediately. Madame Aparajita could not be woken up until 6! Anyway, we all had breakfast - hot potatoes, muffins, cereal, oatmeal. Somehow someone or the other kept delaying and we were finally back on the road by 7.15am We got back on the STP route. The next big step would be the hill at Napa Vine. And then the banana bread that Napa Vine people were famous for! Both things lived upto their promise :) Thankfully we did not spend too much time here and were on the way quickly again. We took restroom stops at gas stations a couple of times. The second day was quite hilly, but thankfully the sun was playing hide-and-seek with the clouds! Just what I was hoping for!! The trail was pretty interesting because of the hills... there was something to work on and the downhills were sooo enjoyable. The only downside was that Arvind had to stop at mile 140 since his knee had really started swelling up and now it looked angry red. Apart from that, the ride till the lunch stop was confortable.Lunch was another sad story, but it was fun to talk about all those horrible hills and what interesting things we saw. I am amazed still, by the number of riders who do the STP in recliners, pushing with hand-pedals, their legs in front of them... where do they get that kind of aspiration? It was getting hotter after lunch, but it was bearable. We all started from lunch together, but eventually I found myself biking myself with a strange groups. I guessed that my friends must have got split in groups... perhaps someone's chain fell off... hopefully nothing bad happened. But anyway, my phone was on, so they could call me if there was anything. Just one thing almost spoilt my ride. Now, from the later part of day 1, I was using my cleats. And in fact, on day 2, I was clipping my cleats to the pedals right from the beginning. Was doing ok with getting down and back up and the cleats were also getting worn in fine. But at this traffic light, I was trying to stop... my right cleat wouldnt come off the pedal. There were bikers in front of me, cars by my side... and I was frantically tugging... the light's still red... dammit! It has to change... I cant crash... oh...my... godddddd... I was an inch away from the biker in front of me and my cleat still wasnt off. And the light changed to green. I pressed back down and went across in a sprint. Then checked what was happening, figured out why my cleat was catching before thanking my stars! Phew! So many people fall... experienced/seasoned bikers... they just laugh it off. I guess I should expect and get used to this anyway :)
Another very interesting thing was the Lewis-Clark bridge that joins Washington State to Oregon state. This bridge needs an escort as it has heavy vehicular traffic. So bikers are lined up at the ramp in the beginning. Once there are about 100-150 bikers, one lane of the bridge is cut off to cars and the bikers go in. Now this bridge is like a steep hill. It is curved, with the center at quite a height. And the Columbia river flows beneath it. You can see Mt. St. Helen's and the view is just out of this world. If you look down, you see water, and on the side, there are winding freeways... you see bikers going on them at top speed since they are sloping down... it fills you up with a sense of exhilaration! And right in the middle, there is a sign which says, 'Entering Oregon'. It's inch to inch with the other riders and you can stop although it's tiring to keep biking up. But it's also so lovely! I had the most fun doing that bridge!
So anyway, at the 176 mile mark, I met my fellow riders again. I was constantly filling water in my backpak. Was feeling much better with the shoulders too. Plus, I had the bridge to talk about. I was wondering why Aparajita, Sree and Srijan had fallen so far back, so I waited for them at the lunch stop. Turned out that Aparajita had taken a tumble and hurt herself. She was fine by then, but her hands were scratched.
Anyway, there were just 30 miles left to go, and nothing could stop any of us anymore. I set off... this time alone again. At 7 miles hence, I saw the Scappouse mini-stop. It was crowded, so I decided to stop at some gas station closer to Portland to relieve myself later. Bad mistake. I never got a chance to do that. There was absolutely no stop till the Finish Line. It was crazy, but the best part about reaching the Finish became the rest room... rather the honeybucket!! The last few miles were gruelling. I kept seeing signs 'Portland 12'... 'Portland 10'... 'Portland 6' ... I was inside the city too... but there was still a series of uphills and downhills and traffic lights and all kinds of nonsense! I had to stop at about 5 traffic lights at every block from the finish line at Holladay Park! I could hear the music, but I wasnt there yet. And then suddenly, I was. And I knew I'd done it. The STP could be checked off my list. And I was fine... no flat tires!! Except for one time when my chain dropped at 10 miles from Portland, nothing else happened!
There was fun and festivity at the finish line. 3 of the others had already reached before me. Others followed about 30-50 minutes after me. Looks like the restroom problem made me pedal really hard and improved my timing by a lot :)
So the STP closes at 7pm. We were still hanging out there waiting for the friend who was to give us a ride back to Seattle. He got lost on the way (he was driving! :) ) so it was 8 and we were still there. There were very few people at Holladay Park then. Most others must have even reached Seattle by then. The Finish line had been removed, the music was over, the stalls were gone. And this handicapped girl in her hand-pedalled recliner came up. She reached, stopped and burst out crying. I was looking at her. Her family was there. They threw their arms around her. And she kept on crying. There were tears in my eyes too, and I just started clapping for her.
2 other ladies, at least 65 years old also rode up around 7.30. I cheered for them and they stopped and gracefully bowed. :) It was so beautiful...
There are so many small and big things that happened... I cant write all of them. I'll probably remember them at different times and smile to myself. But I am sure glad that I have this wonderful experience to think of... my first STP! And I am thankful that I am able and healthy to do this.

STP2007

The joke is on us

2007-05-28T08:16:00.000-07:00

Global warming concerns me. Plus, I have watched 'An inconvenient truth'. It's a horror movie. It creates knee jerk reactions. I've have also seen the skeptists' rebuttal to Al Gore's 'truth'. And all said and done, it's still left me with an uneasiness that refuses to go away. I totally accept the fact that Gore probably only gets to those who were anyway 'environment conscious' in the first place. But that said, I have two different thoughts on this.

1) Certainly, if we keep up our ways, we are going to end up in a bad situation. If we gorge existing resources this way, we are gonna throw up... or get thrown up.

2) Just maybe we arent that significant at all. All our greed is not going to result in anything. There have been ice ages several times before and it's really a pattern the Earth follows anyway. We are just an experiment of Nature. We havent even been around long enough for Nature to determine whether we passed or failed. Not that Nature would care before Earth promptly turned on her heel and went into another long ice age... us bundled into fossils to create fuel for some other form of intelligence to come. Like a child playing on the beach, making sand castles... giggling and wiping out a tower here and a mound there purely for the heck of it.

Not to sound discouraging, but I get the eerie feeling that in either case, the joke is on us.

Joy Ride

2007-05-25T12:02:00.001-07:00

I've never been so enamoured by a piece of metal machinery as I am with my brand new Trek 1200 bike. How often have I mocked those who become slaves of their machines, fussing over them, cooing to them, taking the pains to scrub every corner to squeaky-shiny perfection! But as they say, laugh while you can, for once you get roped into it, you will find yourself fawning the same.
It took 5 bicycle shops, 4 trips to Seattle, a multitude of test rides, 3 adjustments and a dark rainy evening. But now she stands proud in my living room. And I look upon her with affection, approach her with caution and promise myself that this is going to be one hell of a summer :)
Like running, there's no special reason for me to get into biking. It just seems like a very interesting sport. Learning to push yourself, increasing your stamina and endurance... all in the game.
The first ride around Lake Sammamish (27 mile loop) was on a weekday. Lovely route, not too complex. It helps that I've been running coz I didnt feel like I was dying on the first day. And did I mention that the saddle is so awesome that I didnt even feel butt-sore? I just plain enjoyed it. Except for the fact that I find changing to the top front gear slightly non-trivial, I have no complaints.

And to hear my fellow riders compliment me on how the components are really good only added to the joy of the experience.

Cheers for the bike riding days to come! :)

The atheist argument

2007-05-17T16:27:00.000-07:00

This entire atheist-theist debate is getting to me these days. And overall, I see that most atheists are more understanding of where the theists are coming from. But theists start with the premise of 'These atheists...'. It's a free world, why in 'God's' name does anyone have to worry about anyone else's beliefs (or the lack of them). If we were even to try an intersection of the various beliefs and rituals in the world, we would end up with an empty set. So much in contradiction are the various religions and cultures of the world. What's good in one may be completely inauspicious in another. Crazy!! And everyone still wants to stick fast to what they learnt growing up.

My favourite argument has always been this - A new chess player is told to protect his Queen no matter what. Now, this is based on the assumption that the preservation of the Queen is directly related to his/her chances of winning. That said, you will still lose some and win some. And, that does not mean that you will not sacrifice the Queen if that is actually leading to a win. In the same vein, the concept of 'God' according to me, was actually introduced to make sure that the men of the world had some tenets they could follow to ensure that their and others' interests were secured. It was just easier to convince people to follow something if they were not given the option of not following it. So associating wrongful acts with the idea of divine punishment would actually make sense. Now going beyond that, if a person has actually understood this entire concept and the idea of God is not what is required to hold him/her in line, why should it be anybody else's problem what beliefs who has?!! Why has the 'source of the sin' been shifted from the person's acts to his/her beliefs or religious inclinations?

SKS : A Microfinance success story in India

2007-02-07T14:55:00.000-08:00

SKS is a Unitus MFI partner. SKS founder and president, Dr. Vikram Akula, was recognized by TIME magazine in 2006 as one of the “100 People Who Shape Our World.” Here is the article.

More on Micro-Finance, Mega-Impact

2007-02-02T16:03:00.000-08:00

Here is a link to the Unitus video I was raving about. Please take some time and go through it... it is both interesting and enlightening.

Micro-Finance, Mega-Impact

2007-02-02T15:34:00.000-08:00

Last year, I volunteered for Unitus as part of the Microsoft Giving Campaign in October.

Needless to say, I would not have taken the trouble had I not been so impressed by the whole idea. It is indeed remarkable. In one of the videos that the Unitus informational session included, Mike Murray, the Co-founder and then-Chairman said a few things that I could identify with and understand. Like most others (pardon the generalisation), I have been sympathetic towards the problem of poverty. And yet I have subconsciously harboured the thought that it is inexcusable for a healthy individual to resort to begging. I appreciate hard work and believe that it is rewarded. What I had not pondered enough about though, is that 'as you sow, so shall you reap' may not always be true. There is a class of people who are NOT rewarded when they work hard. They remain in that quagmire of poverty, constantly striving to pull themselves out of it. We think there must be something wrong in what they are doing. They must not be pushing hard enough, working smart enough... But no. What they lack most is opportunity. The means to a chance to prove themselves. They dont necessarily lack the will, but they are seriously limited by the resources that they do no receive access to.

Charity is a virtue. But empowerment is a boon. Micro-credit is one of the greatest ideas of our time. Dr. Muhammad Yunus of Grameen Bank, Bangladesh won a nobel prize this year for this excellent concept.

There are a number of MicroFinance Institutions (I know of some in India) that take the 'risk' of bringing financial instruments to the 'poor' to whom banks will not otherwise lend. More women than men have taken advantage of this, resulting in upliftment of entire households. Surprisingly, the return rates for the tiny loans that these women procure from these MFIs are about 98.4%. Just to put this in perspective, the return rates for loans from leading banks in countries like India, which lend after thorough checking of credentials, hover around 74%. Loan amounts are typically small, but allow women to concentrate on their small scale industries like rearing buffaloes for milk, running a tea stall, weaving baskets etc.

The mechanism is simple. Women make groups of 4-5 and take loans from an MFI for their specific needs. The loans become collective liabilites for the entire group. This adds peer pressure so that being dishonest can result in being ostracized by the entire village. A volunteer from the lending MFI makes rounds to small villages on weekly or bi-weekly basis and collects tiny amounts that the women are able to repay towards their loans. Only repayment of one loan qualifies the borrower for the next loan. The system works well and many women are now on their 5th or 6th loans with the same MFIs.

However, MFIs were not always as effective as they are now becoming. Here is where Unitus comes in. Unitus makes use of proven strategies from venture capital and stragetic consulting to increase the reach of MFIs. It developes partnerships with selective MFIs and then supports them to achieve impact in organized fashion. On instances, Unitus has stood as the guarantor for loans granted to MFIs in India from larger nationalised banks like ICICI. It works. It has improved the reach of resources to thousands of people who are now able to live self-sufficiently and with pride.

I will be putting in a video link soon about the work of Unitus in these areas.

Li'l me

2006-11-17T11:58:00.000-08:00

A funny pic of me that I picked up from my parents on my recent India trip. I scanned black and white classics from old times of my parents, and us as children. Best addition I made to my photo collection!

The Big B and the big V

2006-11-14T16:36:00.000-08:00

Phew! What a time for Microsoft!! :) I remember feeling special about being born in this happening ever-evolving and ever-integrating tech era. (In fact, I felt special about turning 21 on the 21st day of the 21st century... but I dont usually feel special about just anything ;-) ) Coming back to the point, I feel special about being at Microsoft at a time when Vista RTM'ed. In Microsoft parlance, RTM is Ready to Manufacture. Which means, in Jim Allchin's words, that the baby is leaving our laps. And I do hope Vista is appreciated. What with all the security stuff and the little little things that make it so beautiful. And of course. with glass effect, it looks so pretty, there's no going back. And as though I wasnt excited enough about it, who should walk into the RTM party but BillG himself! Having seen him in person for the first term, I definitely felt energized... that's what being the boss is about, I guess. He spoke briefly about Vista, Office 2007 and Exchange Server 2007, the 3 major upcoming releases for Microsoft. With all the flak that the world gives Microsoft, there's no denying the fact that there is some really good stuff happening here. And I hand that to Mr. Gates.

...And yeah, we launched the Zune today. For those here, it really is party time!

Doggone!

2006-08-25T03:59:00.000-07:00

I am a nut for dogs. All my friends know I am canine-crazy. It's no surprise if you look at family. In fact, I was showing pictures from my India visit to a friend and she remarked that all of my relatives have dogs. And it's true. Every 'family' picture I took with my nearest extended family had a tail in it :) (And sometimes more than one).

My first 'pet' was called Dafli. I was about 2 years old when my family expanded to include her. She was barely a couple of weeks old and her chances of survival were pretty grim then. (It's family tradition to refer to our canine additions with gender-specific terms) But I guess she had something going really strong for her, in fact, it kept her going for the next 14 years. She was a healthy, sensible and beautiful white pom. Except that she probably never respected me too much. Not that I blame her. I was too little to not pull her tail or tweak her ears, and she was too 'bitchy' to forgive me. So she chose my sister to be her first love. But she did love me although I wasnt allowed comparison to her bond with my sibling.

We were shattered when she passed away (of old age). My sister was living in Pune for her education then. And I was very upset at the loss for a long time. Both my parents were too. And we wouldnt have got another dog had we not found it unbearable to not have a wagging tail greeting each of us everyday. We were just addicted to having someone who showed unconditional joy and rewarded us with affection for only just entering the house. That was hard to let go off. So in just a few weeks, kulfi came in.

This time I had no competition. Kulfi was also a white pom, but how different. Larger, more defiant, very stubborn and stupidly loving. She had the most compassionate large round eyes. And there was no question about whose companion she was. I dont believe I have loved anyone or anything beyond my first family as much as I have loved her. In fact, I have also never been as forgiving of anybody else. I would have probably murdered someone else for having eaten up my Engineering textbook, not once, but twice. So kulfi slept in my bed, hid her biscuit in my blanket and thought it was her birthright to treat me like I was her pet. And considering we were all mellowed down from Dafli's passing, we were slightly less eager to discipline kulfi too strongly.

Her passing remains in my mind as one of the worst things that could happen to me. For months I did not forgive her for leaving me that way. Only when my mother talked to me about it did I consciously let her go in my mind. My best fantasy is to be running around, playing with her in an open ground in some life.

My parents had got a little pup, a boy this time, some months after kulfi left us. But he didnt survive for too long. I had already moved out of my home for work, so I didnt really know 'Phulka' that well. But my parents had grown quite fond of him in his tiny lifespan.

We havent had any housepets since. We are too jittery about the pain of losing a pet now. But all of us foster pets in other ways. My parents have about 6 stray dogs who they feed and treat. 2 of them are actually blatantly flaunting their right to enter the house these days. Laalu, one of the strays, has been outside the house for the past 11 years actually. (He just followed kulfi home one day and they made a case for him to make our place his home... kinda :) ). He has expanded his gene pool and ably propogated his genes further, thus resulting in the 6 dogs we currently take care of.

In Pune, I adopted two stray puppies. I got them vaccinated and took good care of them, sometimes at the expense of my neighbours' affections. But unfortunate things happened to them. After having moved to the US, I currently just dream of one day having a house of my own, if only to have and care for a dog of my own.

Living on the Edge! :)

2006-08-25T03:26:00.000-07:00

One of the very few things I did this summer was White Water Rafting. A lot of fun it is, I'd heard. The outing was duly planned and reservations were made at the White Salmon River close to Portland, and two brave cars spanned the distance worth 4 hours to the place. It was good fun, with a mix of level 4 but mainly level 3 rapids. And a very small patch of 5+ as well. It was great fun, surely. But then fun is just not enough for the likes of yours truly. The kinds who like it 'thrilling' and who are always creating ripples (quite literally) and memories!
So there was this patch of 5+ rapids, a 4 feet high water fall from which we were to descend. Our guide Brady showed us how to respond to a few commands and even made us practise before we went on to the real thing. He shouted commands and we (read Tulsi, Abhijat, Atul, Sumithra, Gautam and Jalpa) ably demonstrated our ability to respond to them... Row forward, Paddle right... xyz! So we were ready to literally take the plunge! We were looking forward to the excitement and were aptly rewarded. What a leap it was through the water. We were ACTUALLY completely immersed in the water for 1..2...3....4...5 secs... an eternity... OH MY GOD. It was Astounding!!!! The breaths were knocked out of our lungs, the cold water was all inside the body suits, we were gasping and laughing. And exclaming. Wooow! It was some experience. The raft came outta the water and we were back on slightly stable ground...er water... and excitedly exchanging how it felt... and who was watching the next rapid that came along? Obviously, no one. And who was sitting on the wrong side of the raft, and not careful enough? Obviously, I. Next split second, I was off. Out of the raft and into the water. And it wasnt a bit like diving. After you dive, you stop. You dont go swiftly zooming far far away. I was trying hard to remember the instructions that the head guide had given for 'emergency situations'. Dont struggle, dont panic. Dont try hard to swim. Well, I wasnt in panic. But when u are flowing away with no control over your body, the mind does tend to wander a bit. A bit far actually! And I know to swim, but I didnt know how to not let the water go into my nose and mouth when my head was constantly bobbing up and down. And then as I was whizzing further away, I caught a glimpse of Sumi's face in the raft... white with terror. Gulp... am I a goner or what? I could hear some shouting, but my entire effort was concentrated on somehow trying to stop my motion away from the raft. Stay put against a large rock or something. Wham! Not so easy! And then... wow... the biggest thing happened. Before I knew it, I was under the water and there was something hard over my head... and it took a split second to realise that it was the raft!! I was under it! I was alternating between guessing whether this was a ploy to stop me from moving further, or an accident, or whether they had just given up. :( I learnt later that it wasnt meant to go over my head, and no, they werent trying to kill me and erase all evidence of the incident. :) I could hear my best friend's voice above and realised from it's tone that I was safe. :) I actually smiled a wan smile at him at he pulled me up. He laughed and said, "You poor thing!" and all was well again! :) And BTW, I forgot to curse the stupid hat that had covered my face - my eyes and my nose and almost had me drowned! And BTW, just in case someone wonders, this lasted just about a minute, and no, I didnt see my whole life pass in front of my eyes :) Guess I was sure I wasnt dying! :)
It was fun, and it's been even more fun to recount the incident to all others with more vigour each time! :)

Matter of Faith?

2006-08-25T03:24:00.000-07:00

Are we actually moving backwards? What can explain all those well dressed and educated (even fluent English speaking) people who were seen at the Mahim beach, actually sampling the sea water that had turned sweet. They were literally considering it a miracle of a god man. One look at the water, and you would safely assume that the so called god man would have at least made an effort to filter the water of the floating solid waste when he made it sweet. It is incredible that people actually deigned to take a sip of that water after seeing it's colour and contents. On any other occasion, I am sure they would not even use it to wash their clothes!
And then there was the case of the idols drinking milk in temples... this time, not just ganesha idols. And the only thing you are left thinking is, "Not again!"
And if that was not enough, I just saw the news report of a particular building whose residents are feeling blessed. The reason? The moss growing on one side of the building has taken the shape of the face of Sai Baba. Unbelievable. That's all I can say.

Substandard Expectations

2006-08-25T03:13:00.000-07:00

I had been warned about several things that strike a 'returning' Indian. The noises, the throngs of people everywhere, the stench of human excrements, the general hum and buzz of everyday life in a country alive with diversity.
True to these expectations, I did realize many of these things to be true, but no, they didnt come out to strike me. They were not hard hitting and they didnt unduly bother me. In fact, I soaked up the feel of the city of Bombay, pulsating with urgency in every stride. The humidity was the only thing that struck me as soon as I got out of the air conditioned aeroplane interior.
But the other thing that did become painfully noticeable was the level of expectations from this country. It's surprising that each and every thing seems to be rid with a kind of mediocrity and substandard-ness. The quality of roads, services, products, in fact, of time and value... I am still trying to figure out why there is so much discrepancy between the amount of talent in this fertile nation and the output or infrastructure it bears. Agreed, populations are so large that it is but natural that sustenance goes beyond available means. But does this mean that we will forever operate only at a certain percentage of our possible potential? When and how will this change?

Starting something new

2006-07-26T19:53:00.000-07:00

This blog is my indulgence. Literal testimony to the murky and not so murky thoughts that cloud my mind. It's decorated with randomness and I dont feel embarassed about the literal litter that I let accumulate here. So today I thought of starting something new. I am going to start writing testimonials to those people who came and walked the pages of my book and stayed back... for those who left in person, but refused to leave in spirit. And since there is silence here, and the echoes of my indulgence resound for noone but me, there's a bleak chance that someone whose testimonial is written here will travel the clickpath to this site!

So much for home!

2006-07-17T11:52:00.000-07:00

Just about anything related to home can be so appealing! Even a satellite view! That too, one so vague. But anyway, here's where I have lived for 21 years of my life. :)

Skating? Sure! :)

2006-07-12T16:52:00.000-07:00

Unexpectedly early for my second skating lesson, but it happened. Actually, most of the gang members have been so busy lately (or maybe I think so) that extra curriculars have become distant luxuries (Come to think of it, since I am not a student currently, everything is extra curricular :D). But I have been slogging in general and a break was very welcome. So when Abhijat (hereforward referred to as the (benevolent) Teacher ;-)) called me to go skating, the short 15 min notice still seemed good enough. Turned out that the teacher had only this willing student for company. So we happily cashed the free coupons we had got the first time round and collected our rental skates. I was concerned since the first experience had left me black and blue in some areas ;-). But there was no point worrying.
By the time I had my skates on, the Teacher had already started showing off his expertise to some attractive chicks (something like that ;-)). So I was left to myself. Alright. As I started, I realised that I was able to pick up close to where I had left off the first time. I'd have rubbed my hands in ecstasy had it not been so risky. Good good. Now remember the words of wisdom. Kintya said to not look down... er ... I'd rather practise that later. Abhijat said to bend forward. Okay, achievable. I had decided to take no support... easier said than done. But anyway, start gliding.
Ok, I am moving - but why arent my legs coordinated that well? Oh...I'll get better. Wow... look at that new guy, seems like his first time... go... show off. Oooh. Bad thoughts. Shut up. Show off later. Alright, dont look down. Where's the teacher? Ok, there, try to get to him. NOOO. Dont look down. There's that new guy again... so tempting to show off your silly gliding What the hell did I say about not showing off? Wow, that girl's doing great.. hmmm... nice figure, maybe I'll skate regularly and get there. Cool. Yeah yeah, looking up. Ta-da-da... nice music... wow, already finished my 4th round? Cool. Ok, now progress. Here comes teacher, make sure u dont fall down in front of him... whoaaa...whoaaa... he he... what control ;-) Did you see that... I didnt fall! Nice. Let's try swinging arms. Dum-dee-dum... man, I wasnt looking down. :) Losing calories. Awesome. Huh, how the mind wanders... blah blah blah.
And this girl comes along and detects my 'need' for encouragement. "You are doing really great!" She says. I flush a furious red. Teacher comes along demanding to know what she whispered to me. Huh. These guys. I have to tell him and all he has to say is 'Cool'. Wish I'd told him she was begging me to introduce her to him. THEN he'd have been more than 'cool'.
And just like that, the last song played and we had to return our skates. But it was really great. I was to do it again. :) Love skating already.

Flying past the skating rink?

2006-05-29T23:03:00.000-07:00

Skating rink. Memorial day weekend. Whummmmmp. <--Me. Flying. Landing. Trying. ;-) It was fun though! My first time on the rink with quad skates 'barely' holding me up. To say that I had a swinging time would be a rather punny description. I went rather reluctantly, given my first unfortunate experience with skiing in January. Not wanting to go through Memorial day weekend with a painful and protruding posterior I was understandably unwilling to try my luck at the rink, to begin with. But when your best buddies wanna go, well, you havent much choice then!!
The first lesson was to wear the skates and WALK. Not to glide. But to pick your feet one after the other, and stride forward. And to not hold the wall helming the rink or you do not learn.
Kintan was kind enough to hold my hand and take me around the rink...once... twice. I think that helped me get a feel of how to go about it. So Kintya's lesson (lesson 2, if you may) was to not look at the floor at all. Just look ahead.
Using the first two lessons I waddled around at the periphery of the rink for a few rounds. Then Abhijat cruised alongside to deliver lesson 3. To bend forward. And to swing the arms to balance and navigate. Well, he didnt exactly appreciate the flailing I did and was quite expecting a smooth flowing arm movement... but I was closer to that at the end of the session and hope to do better in the next one. :) (And I could even catch some fleeting utterings of praise from the experts :))
It was very exciting to go at the rhythm of the music. I barely tried, but I am really looking forward to getting more and more of it in the future. I could actually go around for a few rounds without much support and without too much interaction with the ground and my upper body. It wasnt all smooth sailing but the waters would calm down!
Add to that the incentive of burning calories! And voila! You have my interest all perked up. :)

Getting off my train of thought!

2006-05-18T15:01:00.000-07:00

I wonder why I've started taking everything with a gallon of salt these days. Every once a while, I try to attribute my (failing) attention span (characterised by it's diminishing amplitude) to various disorders that might be afflicting my otherwise perfect (??) mental faculties.

From Alzheimer's disease to ADD, I've thought about everything. :) That apart, I have even started philosophising less and less. I mean, I am a vagrant wading in my thought pools, with no inclination towards deep diving. And I am taking everything with 200 pinches of salt. I'm becoming less and less fixated on arguing over matters of belief. In fact, I can see myself smugly enjoying a sunny day without even wondering about how unsunny it is an Antarctica... or how I must avoid feeling happy since the rainy days are just a summer away! In fact, my mind trails off and then trails off the off-trail... if you know what I mean... and if not, please dont ask me to explain!

And anyways, am weary of these long winded expressions, so am gonna stop here and not analyse for the next 1 hour. And really, I cant remember why I starting writing this post in the first place!!!

All work and no play has made very dumb Jacks

2006-04-09T00:11:00.000-07:00

This is a sad fact. You ask any Indian IT tagged poor soul and the sorry state of affairs is that they do not have any answer for 'So, what do you do apart from work?'. The oft repeated answer is, "Oh, there isn't much time left to do anything after work and housekeeping". This, I speak chiefly about the Indian IT worker who comes under the Outsourcing yoke.

It also sadly reflects this strange Indian mentality that actually makes one feel guilty about treating yourself well. (Wonder what breed those Government servants are!!) Why in the name of divinity, do we have to feel sorry about not working over a damn weekend? And is talking about how long you stayed up in the night talking to your 'offshore' team the biggest of your brags? Quite literally, it sucks... the life out of you. In fact, many even subscribe to the idea that being paid in dollars mandates an output of 2.5 'resources' (not persons, mind ye all) out of one hapless soul. In fact, I neither empathise nor sympathise with those that feel this way!

I wonder why self development is not emphasized outside of work in this regard. Are we creating a bunch of technical, geeky, overworked dumb Jacks with bad postures, sorry tempers and even sadder respect for oneself. And dont even get me started on their idea of the various uses of time. It's 1 or 0. Work. Or sleep.

I could ramble on further, but it's just a nice day and I dont want to dawdle on that. Hmmph.

Woman of Today

2006-04-07T14:07:00.000-07:00

I dont know if I have this one completely wrong. I am willing to check my premises if necessary. But as of now, I do not understand the women's lib (so nicknamed) movement. I recently attended the South Asian Womens' Film Festival. The theme was centered around 'celebrating South Asian Women'. And I failed to identify with it, or understand the exact goal of the exercise. (And not to mention, I am both, South Asian, and Woman) With due regard to the organizers, the participants and the subjects, I still want to know what we are building this on. The show had some interesting dance sequences, both modern and classical; an excerpt from the writings of a Pakistani woman which was very very well written; a naration from 'Vagina Monologues' and so on. There was a documentary on lesbian marriages espcially in the Indian cultural context. Two Indian women who have taken this step and gone to court fighting for Lesbian marriages to be legalised were interviewed. I do commend their step.

However, I felt more strongly about the various women from Islamic countries and even several Indian communities who do not get the same privileges as their male siblings.

And yet, I do not see the need for us 'privileged' women to celebrate our womanhood anymore. Not those women who have not ever borne the brunt of being discriminated against (I, for instance). Also, which social section are programmes like these targetting. And what is the goal? To create awareness? If it is to raise funds and take a step towards liberating some of our less advantaged fellow women, that will be more understandable. But to make a big deal out of belonging to one out of two genders is not easy for me to understand. I fully sympathise with the socially challenged and oppressed women who need support. But I sincerely think this also goes way beyond a bunch of privileged women being 'aware' of it.

At the same time, same sex / lesbian marriages do not figure under womens' issues for me. I dont see it as any different from gay marriages. Yes, it makes a difference that these preferences meet with a lot more resistance in the context of South Asian cultural biases and often, narrow mindedness. But surely it's not the same as not having the same rights as men in a given social segment.

This is not a disclaimer, but I really want to know what most girls who harp on the 'I am proud to be a woman' theme. I dont have anything against anyone being proud of anything they are /do or prefer, but I refuse to subscribe to saying that for the heck of it.

Hmmph. There are gender differences and they will remain. But that's another topic again.

Dil hai hindustani?

2006-03-27T23:50:00.000-08:00

I was talking to a friend about another friend's visit to India. The 'dude' is born in America, of Indian origin. He happened to visit the country his parents were brought up in for the first time recently, at age 23. And he could not stand it. He says he never wants to go there. The filth, the crowd, the dirt... he cant take it again.

At first reaction, I felt a bit outraged, a little indignant. But the second thought was more practical. Can I really expect him to love India with her million ways, her myriad discrepancies and her galaxy of social levels? How can one who is not born in the middle of that hot, humid and grimy bazaar ever be in love with it. He, of the clean roads, the cool air, the public 'restrooms', and the covered chefs can never deal with the open air toilets, the sweat, the spattered roads littered with spit, dung, animals; and the roadside food vendors who so flout the word hygiene! And yet I can love all the simple things in India. Of course, I crinkle my nose at open drains and fold up my salwar to jump the smallest puddle... but my sense of belonging comes from being born there, brought up there. I owe my values and my upbringing to that nation of diversity. Above all, I owe it my tolerance... and my immunity. :)

I, of the Weaker Sex?

2006-03-16T20:46:00.001-08:00

I happened to stumble onto the Blank Noise Project site and had the chance (wont say pleasure) to go through pages and pages of so far suppressed outrage.

It's been a while now since I pondered these ugly facts that we shrug off as teenage growing up pangs. Pangs they were. (I see this post turning long and rambly already! Memory after memory is surfacing. I want to share those long forgotten cr*p incidents) I consider myself lucky… nay, privileged to have the parents I have. I think that basically halved the trauma of going through this shit called eve-teasing.

Some of my 'decent' and over analytical male friends have sometimes asked me a genuine question, "Do girls enjoy the attention? The hooting and whistling"… one even asked me if the 'petting', is in any way enjoyable. I cant understand how these questions even strike a match into their dark heads. Dude, would you enjoy a tight slap across the face if that meant getting attention from the opposite sex? Would you appreciate an en'crotch'ment of your space? Really.

Well, there have been some discussions about the scumbag Road Romeos who are treated exactly as that. But what about the harassment which so often takes place at home. By men who enter under the garb of uncles, cousins, sometimes even granfathers? Have they absolutely no shame whatsoever?

I remember this incident from the time I must have been 5 or 6. (Yes, actually that young.) Whenever I visited my grandparents, I used to barge into the homes of all the doting neighbours. I was well loved and received a lot of affection from all the mamajis and bhaiyyas along with the mamijis and didis. About 3 years back, as a more sober and quiet 20 something girl, I was standing in our courtyard, with my grandmother, haggling with the bhaajiwali. Just then, our neighbour's son (who I call mamaji since he is more my mother's generation) walked by. He respectfully greeted my grandma, made small talk and commented on how I had grown into a sweet young woman. And he used the word 'beta' to address me. I don’t know what happened then, but this one memory surfaced after 15-16 years of exile. One of those summers, as a kid, I had been loitering in our courtyard in the evening and decided to go and check whether the next door nanaji wanted to play with me (he was one of my best playmates). The door was opened by mamaji, then unmarried, and probably bordering on his 30s. I don’t know if it was just a wrong time, or what… but that must have been my first experience with a form of sexual harassment. And sadly, I didn’t even know what it was. What I remembered that day when he walked by, was that he had tried to hug me tight and was kissing my face and I was telling him that I wanted to go and play. And the heavy breathing. I felt profound sadness and wondered whether he remembered that time. Whether he hoped that I had not understood and had forgotten what he had done. Did he feel guilty about it? I didn’t know how to react once I remembered this. I told my grandmother and neither of us has been able to decide how to treat him. I have, for one, singularly avoided him till date.

But there are others like him. An Aunt's relative who bestowed me with affection and Cadbury's. Who came across as a warm and affectionate elderly person who loved to banter with me. Who started visiting me whenever he was in the city. I still am not sure whether those uncomfortable hugs which were meant to be affectionate, fatherly were accidentally provocative. Or whether the attempts to plant a tender peck on the forehead were just misplaced. But when I talked to my mother, she told me to trust my female instinct. She said if it made me uncomfortable, I should not let it go on. Both my parents offered to confront him and also talk to my Aunt. But I held them back and was successful in never responding to his communication. But I know there are other unfortunate girls in the same social layer as I am, but with less supportive and intelligent parents. And no, I did not enjoy ANY of the male attention. And I did not enjoy it even from the younger and better looking male friends when it was unwanted. Even when it was as simple as constant badgering for company over coffee. It just sucks.

A lot has been said about the topic. I hope it finds its way to the part of society that actually needs the change of perspective. To those men who otherwise prefer to shrug or turn a blind eye or gaze at their watch to check how late they are likely to get if they tried to get into a melee over the girl beside them being 'eve teased' as they would conveniently want to think. And women too. Because one woman can defend herself and another just as well. Our society needs to reach a point where men will think carefully whether it is worth it to get a quick squeeze at the girl beside them and be beaten black and blue or at least be questioned strongly. This deluge of posts should not be limited in impact to the male or female blog enthusiasts who are already in agreement over the need for awareness and collective action.

To end on a more cheerful note, let me recount this (in one way) funny experience I had. Thanks to our very pragmatic parents, both my sister and I received KungFu training. Well, it didn’t really show on our then-frail frames. :) This happened when I visited my sister for the first time in Bombay after she started working. I was in my 2nd year of Engineering. As we walked on the jostling Andheri railway station bridge, she stopped to look for something in her purse. I was carefully holding on to my suitcase and purse and walked a few steps further so as to not create a roadblock. Out of nowhere, this b$%#%#$%#d walked out of the torrent of office-goers and gave me a squeeze. I hope that's the last time he would have done that to anyone. Coz as he smugly strode off taking advantage of the fact that my hands were full, he was in for a surprise. I actually turned back and followed him through the throng and gave him a hard hard hard slap on the back that left him gasping. To his chagrin, he got caught between my sister and me. She happened to look up from her meddling with the items in her purse, immediately grasped the situation and without further ado punched him. That must have set some ideas straight for the perv. We got approving glances from some fatherly passersby and all became well after the piece of garbage bent down and said, "Sorry Sister". My sis and I let him go with a warning (though I have a strong feeling that he was stopped in the way by some of those father figures who wanted to take the admonition further). Although we had a hearty laugh as we described the incident to our parents, fact remains that this happens all the time. And it’s not ok. And it has to be curbed and the offenders brought to book.

I cannot but emphasize the need for giving girls training in self defence and the confidence that comes with it. The confidence that you have an edge and are a force to be reckoned with.

St. Patrick's Day Dash

2006-03-13T00:38:00.000-08:00

March 12, Sunday. I did the St. Patrick's day dash. Well, Vatsan, (yes, that king of all sorts of discussion lists!!!) had unearthed and sent this link and had added, off the cuff, that he'd registered. (A fact that I had pushed into the dark depths of my mind's abyss, and one he gleefully pointed out when I was at the point where i had no registration and the dash was a day away. Another To-Do item condemned to the murky depths of my forgetfulness.) Anyways, thankfully Ankit and registered on Friday (the 10th) and were punished with XL sized sweatshirts since all other sizes had run out. (Ha! Who cares about a nice gray long shirt with the dash details in bold green printed across? Who cares about wearing something fun for the Irish spirit within (?) ). Hmph.

Well, like I said before, I spent Saturday cramped in a lifeboat with a certain Pissing Patel! I was reading till 3am and only drifted to sleep after that, after having been scolded. Anyways, got up and went to the run with Vatsan and Ankit. It was contagious... the excitement and gaiety. People had gone to great lengths to reflect the spirit and the theme... green and spring. There were green trinkets, tattoos, hats, everything! We ran the timed red wave and stuck together throughout. Only for a while towards the end, Ankit was separated. Vatsan and I kept dodging people and beelined for the Finish at the end of 32.28 mins. All in all, it was real good fun. :)

The Life of Pi

2006-03-13T00:02:00.000-08:00

I spent the greater part of my saturday finishing the Life of Pi . It was amazing. Considering I had taken a good 6-7 months to get across the first 80 odd pages. Not to blame the book itself for this joyous dash from page 1 to page 80, I will attribute it to other 'uncontrollable factors'. Anyways, that I finished 250 something pages in a few hours on a beautiful Saturday speaks favourably of the book. It is a story that had several elements to catch my attention - My love for biology, especially of the zoological aspect; my love for animals themselves; my philosophies - particularly my religious sentiments, or rather my secular and non-religious ones; my vegetarianism; my resignation towards flowery language and yet the grudging affinity for verbose and amusing writing; my appreciation for resourcefulness; even my typical inclination towards tales with twisted tails... All in all, I cant put a finger on one thing that made me journey with Pi over the seas of pages. It would take several fingers and I have only 2 pairs of limbs. At points in the book, I felt the motion sickness Pi battled, I felt like reaching under my bed and warmly and benevolently patting the cool, wet muzzle of my very own feline ally. I felt the twinge of guilt for that first flying fish and the pang of remorse for the turtle. More than anything, I could not miss the philosophical titbits sometimes hidden and at other times flaunted in the bounty of anecdotal recounts, all threads woven into a rich and colourful fabric - one that I covered myself in a settled into a Saturday reading fever. I like the different style and the real descriptions. That's something I worry about regarding my own writing abilities. I can describe people, emotions... can I also describe things, places and happenings to create the same interest, credibility and rapture? Again, Pi has become a friend who is gently coaxing me to make the trip I have promised myself, to observe, learn and write. To process, and deliver. I must. Someday.

Sincity Gyan Series - 3

2006-01-09T17:25:00.000-08:00

Gamble the night onto a deck of glory,
Set the wheels of fortune to turn,
Tinker at slot machines for Sevens,
To squander a few, to many earn!

Fine the food, the beauty divine,
Feast to the eyes, for senses pleasure,
Welcome to the SinCity, you fool,
Come dip in wine and seek your treasure!

I still have not entirely figured out what it is that enthralls and drives those who spend hour after smoky hour in darkened and gloomy, gaudy and bustling casinos, oblivious of the time of day and hour of night. Perhaps the main reason is the mirage created by serendipity. Perhaps that is the chief reason I cannot identify with that excitement. I mean, you will not be particularly enthusiastic if you NEVER win. For instance, I cannot bring an occasion to memory where I earned even a safety pin, leave aside gold nuggets and hard cash. So understandably, I am just as terribly ruffled by the prospect of gambling as I am by that of making a neat bundle of my hard earned money, wrapping it up beautifully and throwing it down the drain. This is my gift, this is my curse, just to quote Spidey. And while on the topic of my luck at winning such games, let me mention the one time I earned an audio cassette in a game of 'throw the seven' at a fun fair. I am still moved to the core by that one incident when I had the unbelievable pleasure of not losing at those dumb games. That I had to forfeit the cassette to the friend from whom I had borrowed the entry fee and ended up feeling obliged to, barely dampens that refreshing memory! But it stands out as a conspicuous single hppening like witnessing a rare comet that streaks past an otherwise ordinary and colourless expanse of patchy sky! That said, if you can, enjoy the thrill that the whole experience offers. Read the lines above and do all that with full knowledge of what you are up for. :)
(And if u ever see a cynical, disdainful and observant woman in the casino, say hi to me :) )

SinCity Gyan Series - 2

2006-01-09T15:41:00.000-08:00

I felt alternately dazzled and stoical at the grandeur and extravagance of the infamous Sincity. I was so lost in the fawning facades and ornate displays, the gold chandeliers, the marble floorings and the glass mosaics, the presentation and the splendour that I actually felt closer to my inner self. I found myself thinking more clearly, more positively. It was a bizarre experience to feel that way. Calm and quiet. In fact, Sayali kept observing my bouts of reflective silence. One little thing does come to mind though. As we were walking through the Venetian, towards the Gondola ride, we stopped at a few stores. The windows alluringly suggested 50% price offs. It was more like mockery. I couldnt have afforded the stuff if it was 98% off. :-( I happened to like a coat and some stuff and commented to Mads that all the good stuff is always so expensive! At which point, she proved why she is among my bestest friend. She turned and gave me a warm bear hug and said, "Well, not ALL the good stuff. :) Some of it is actually free!". It was a short moment. Perhaps she didnt even feel it that strongly. But I had filed a pointer to that incident in my mind. And poor pointer was nudging me to be fossilized onto this archealogical (archiac? ;-)) blogsite. :) So there. free(incident_ptr). :-D

SinCity Gyan Series - 1

2006-01-07T17:29:00.000-08:00

Christmas weekend. Vegas. Madhuri, Chinmay, Sayali, Abhijeet aur mai. Hum paanch punter airport par miley. Well, I dont have the patience to narrate the -details of the rest of this chronicle in 'Kaante' style. (Also, one resolution I've made is that I am going to upload small pieces of my 'memoirs' and be more effective than wait to complete the larger blogs I start and dump into the abyss of incomplete drafts. )

There werent any significant earnings, but there definitely were some learnings from the City of Glamour. One thing I've filed away for use if I ever decide to have a casino of my own is the following set of facts -

The three things that are taboo in a casino, for obvious reasons -
1) Time pieces. The prey, the poor hapless victim to the vice of gambling should never know the time he is spent casting dice upon luckless dice over hard-earned or hard-won money.
2) Exit signs. There ought to be none to prompt the hapless victim from point 1, to leave the cosy comforts of the smoke filled casino and venture out into the cleaner air outside (lest he get asphyxiated for lack of carbondioxide :-)
3) Windows. The H.V. (explained in 1 above, referred in 2) shalt not be allowed to glimpse the time of day, be lured out and allowed to be unstuck from BlackJack table/ Slot machine handle. :)

That was the gyan this session. More to follow in coming sessions. :)

The Road to Perdition... and Glory!!

2005-11-27T20:53:00.000-08:00

So it's done. The Marathon, I mean. All the days of planning, exchanging tips, fantasizing about crossing the finish line... and yeah, it's happened.

I ran my first half marathon today in 2 hours and 8 minutes for the 13.1 miles. We all finished... and it was every bit as good as we'd imagined. The whole package, the pain included.

Vikas breezed through his full in 4 hrs 17 mins, Lubdha battled her busted knees to do it in 2 hrs 33 and Rohan beat cramps and all the agony to finish the whole 26.2 at 5 hrs 14. Zoheb took 2 and 43 for the half. I am so proud of these guys. And am so glad I made some awesome friends!!!

Details will follow, but Rohan's words keep resounding, "There are few things I have deserved as much as this Finisher's medal..."

Each of us fought everything from ITBS to cramps to Runners' knee on sheer grit. Am just glad we all made it through! :)

Some ITBS resources

2005-11-23T15:38:00.000-08:00

BTW, Vikas has unearthed some good ITBS and running related links. I will be the cuckoo in the crow's nest and just link to his blog :-D here. See the entry for Nov. 20.

Knee-aring the marathon!

2005-11-23T13:57:00.000-08:00

I went to the doctor today. Actually! I went weak in the knees... pardon the pun. But i started fearing the shadow that looms on my marathon effort. And the oncoming long weekend, which magnified my fears. What if it gets worse? And then somebody tells me I cant attempt to run? Bascially, I wanted someone to tell me, so I could tell other who ask me not to run, that I can legally run. And it's happened.

For one, I had a helluva time in getting an appointment. Finally got one at the Overlake Medical Center this morning. Dr. Chi was great to talk to, having been a runner himself. He confirmed it is ITBS. And showed me a number of aggressive stretches. He says I should be good to run on Sunday, but he assures me of the pain later. Here are a few tips for those attempting my insanity -
1) ITBS is not deadly unless you really totally ignore it in the initial stages. But it can inhibit your running for several years if it's allowed to get out of hand.
2) It almost never requires surgery and seldom requires steroid shots to pamper the muscle.
3) It is a common runners' nightmare. And it happens to runners whose mind runs the training track faster than their muscles can support. The culprit is overtraining and overuse.
4) All stretches that cause the hip and buttock muscles to stretch will help relieve ITBS
5) It is OK to take ibuprofen before the run, drink a lot of water (to prevent excess ibuprofen concentration hampering the kidneys) and take it again after the run. But it needs to be flushed out of the system so needs a lot of hydration.
6) It REALLY is imperative to stretch and ice (for at least 20 minutes) after the run.

As for me, I am preparing myself to have a very tough next week. I hope I dont have to stop at all during the run, and can instead relax my knees later. But having been assured that the damage will not be long term, I feel more confident about doing it... well... here comes raceday. Rather, raceday, here I come. :)

The hard part of the marathon training

2005-11-20T21:26:00.000-08:00

I hadnt expected to be so upset about my knee hurting. Right now, I feel wronged. I can imagine how Vikas had felt the day he had to stop at 7 miles when he was all geared up for 20.
Well, I just have to deal with it. But I just wish, and still hope, that I can run my best on the day of the marathon. I dont want to just finish it, I want to have the chance to test myself. Not to have an excuse for not having done well enough, but to have been able to be out there with all the chance I have to earn a good timing.

I am doing my stretches, taking Ibuprofen, iceing my knee, more importantly, not running. It is very tempting to try it and see whether it hurts. But I cant afford to. And the $#& thing still hurts. (Pardon the '$#&', but it's not nice to keep it bottled up. Maybe it affects the ITB if I dont vent it out ;-)).

I know one thing. I am going to finish that marathon even if I have to crawl. But I dont want to crawl! Therein lies the contention.

Well, it's all 'Asha' for now. On friday, there's the carboloading for all the comrades. And there's also the plan to decorate the T-shirt with the name so people can cheer during the marathon. It is all very exciting. :) It's going to be one helluva experience, one way or another. And am gonna preserve it in my memories for a long time!

Miles to go before we sleep

2005-11-19T21:11:00.000-08:00

...And those that we've already crossed. It's been, in one word, an experience. I feel a bond with my running buddies, that is fastened with encouragement, common joys, shared pain, milestones, jokes, disciplines and all the accompaniments.

It's been a roadmap from Wednesday to Saturday, from Smoothies to Breakfasts. And now, Friday evening pastas. All too soon, the marathon day is bang in sight!

These are a few of the small things I am going to miss (assuming we dont quickly latch on to another marathon) -
(And I dont know why/when I've picked up this habit of putting down 'points'!)
*** Saturdays
*Lubdha's unerring morning call. And my gladness at already being up by the time the phone starts chanting.
*Being at peace with myself. Pacing about, stretching, taking my energy drink, looking out the window at the early morning lull
*Rohan's 'Dhinchak' tracks in the car. Usually pep me up! Lubdha, Vikas and now Zoheb in the pleasant 'Good Morning' league
*Starting the run, setting the goal, turning on the music
*The sight of Lake Washington... majestic, beautiful... thinking EVERYTIME of owning a house that spans 6 house numbers on the block. :) Admiring every well tended garden. Basically ignoring the pain in the legs while still focussing on the path.
*Pit stop at Madrona Park. Lubdha and I are always counting on that one!
*The cute little doggies. I have ALWAYS slowed down at the sight of them. I hope there are no doggies to distract me on marathon day.
* Funny sights... like the one in the rain, with this girl running with black mascara tears running down her face! Or the one Rohan mentioned, with the tiny dog doing it's best to snap at Vikas' heels!
* GU stops, turning back from the predecided mile markers... feeling like flying!
* Singing 'Just keep running, Just keep running' in Dory's tone, at mile 8.
* Looking out for Prospect Street and almost always being pleasantly surprised that it's been crossed.
* The sight of 'Fireside Terrace'. It means the last 0.1 mile. I lovvvvvve seeing it!!
* Seeing Chuck standing there with folded arms. And sometimes, a hint of a smile. (Sulk!)
* Lubdha's reminders to stretch after!
* Sweet exachanges and thumps on the back for timing. Recounting interesting discoveries of nerves, muscles, lungs... sights. :)
* Drive back with a lot of discussions of this and that!
* Elaborate breakfasts with a completely guiltless conscience! Reminders to each other to stretch, ice, run!

It's been so amazing! I've enjoyed every instant of this experience. And I sincerely hope it doesnt stop here. Vikas is already baiting me with the mountaineering idea... :)
And I want to run more marathons with Lubdha.
I want to have at least one breakfast at Rohan's place.
And I want to learn some more stretches and teach them to Zoheb. :-D

More on the Wednesday routines... coming soon...

Random murmuring of tiny thoughts

2005-11-19T18:43:00.000-08:00

For a while now, I've considered, weighed, discarded, weighed, reconsidered, weighed, the possibility of someday writing something worthwhile. I mean, worth somebody else's while too. :-D

'While' I have precious little to speak for that, I have at least made a conscious decision now, to preserve whatever negligible cactii may bloom out of the scattered and contourless expanse of the desert of my talent. (Whew! How's that for 'deliberate attempt'? ;-) When I said I'd try, I meant it!! ;-)). Er... that figure of speech is called 'metaphor' BTW.

My inspirations have been as random and as illogical as these-
1) My college friends STILL say that I hold the unbeaten record of longest and _most_ explanatory names for variables in a C program.
2) They also, still curse me for the sore thumbs from copying out the long-worded assignments I mercilessly churned out. (He he, also makes it look like I was the poor champ who did all the original writing. Actually, also sounds like I was the nitwit who gave it away!).
3) I have a few short stories and a few poems written on some of the 'good' days.. sigh...
4) J. K. Rowling has become a millionnaire.
5) I know enough math to calculate that the number of friends I have are enough for me to make a small fortune if each of them buys my (someday) book. (Yes, they are kind people! :P Yes, REALLY kind.)
6) I suspect I have an evil bent of mind. :-(
7) This list is not making me look good. Shall update it with more later. :-(( ....

So the point is, an effort to discipline myself through the marathon will hopefully also help me meet some of the other goals that beckon. Like Lubdha rightly said today, it's not just the marathon day, it's all the grit that went into turning from a rolling-ball-of-flesh to a cantering-mass-of-muscle. And there will be more marathons, and more challenges. ITBS or otherwise.

The blog of the jog brigade

2005-11-19T18:32:00.000-08:00

A comment I linked to a blog I never update, from a blog Vikas frequently updates, to give an idea of what we've been upto, because the fingers are too lazy to type it all out again... Anyway... read this!

It's official!

2005-11-18T16:57:00.000-08:00

Well...(sheepish grin) ... it wasnt the knee after all. The culprit is the oh-so-fancy-sounding illiotibial band. I have a condition similar to Vikas'. ITBS. No points for guessing, Illio Tibial Band Syndrome.

So, last night was a restless one. Slept late instead of early, didnt sleep well, didnt drink enough water. Woke up in the morning to feel uneasy and had a tummy upset. It was really foggy outside and I suddenly had cold feet thinking I wouldnt be able to run!!! Well, but then did my usual energy-drink-and-GU ritual (It's not how it sounds!!!) and then off I was with the other warriors, to the running field. Well, Lubdha and I discussed the distance to run and after much deliberation, decided to do the longer 4.8 mile loop around GreenLake-WoodlandPark and the 2.8 mile loop around the lake. (There are ducks to look at while running, and it's a curious sight. Well... the ducks might be enjoying watching my antics as well :0D) (And I got my pair of gloves finally, but it turned out to be warm today. Drat!) Anyways, as we ambled off towards our goals, both Lubdha and I were merrily chatting and not focussing on our respective injuries. Alas, we couldnt wish them away. It turned out to be a disastrous series of stretch-stops, walks, painful masochistic running and more pain. As I hobbled back to my 4.8 mile return point, I was in tremendous pain already. Luckily, Cary could identify my symptoms as classic ITBS ones, having suffered from it herself. The stretches she prescribed eased it quite a bit. I was all raring to go for the second loop, but Lubdha's words of wisdom held me back. I hoped it would be fine if I just took it a little easy.

But then, when'd life start getting this easy. A slight-warning-but-nothing-much injury would have not prompted me to write all this. So as I tried on a new pair of shoes at the Super Jock n' Jill Annivery sale, I could not even run for the life of me. Man! This is frustrating. I have been tightly wound (well, not as tightly as the @#$@ ITB) ever since!! I WANT TO RUN THE MARATHON. And I want to run another one... and another one... and another...

So am going to do all it takes to get back on line. I can now hear a disticnt cocking sound from the knee every time I bend it while walking. I hope it's for effects only. Well, fingers crossed. And legs too. (That's the stretch that causes the ITB to ease the pressure from the knee and stimulates the hip muscle in the band).
\

A touchy knee!

2005-11-18T16:50:00.000-08:00

Ouch! What hurts more is not that it's hurting so, but that this is the most inopportune and ruthless time for it to. Am fuming. Quite rightly so. I mean, c'mon! Dont give up on me... you are my knee. Did I ever give up on you? When you wobbled, pronated, hurt or sometimes just screamed?

Well, here's the whole story. Or as much of it as is relevant.
Vikas, Rohan, Lubdha and I are running the Seattle Marathon. (I was to put my earlier notes on this up LONG ago...) I recently put up my profile and sent a (not-so)heart rending mail to those likely to part with a few dollars for the greater good of mankind in general. Well, I got all the, "Yup, u'll do it", "Will be there to cheer you on", and "Nice job" mails. Pleased as a punch that I hadnt (thus far) sustained any injuries (Rohan, Vikas and Lubdha all did), I marched on to impending doom.

When they say listen to your body when you work out or run, I think it's a joke. Coz if I start listening to my body, I wont take that step ahead. It's the mind that keeps singing 'Just keep running, just keep running' (in Dory from Finding Nemo style). So I dont trust it when my knee starts pretending to hurt, my ankle starts acting like it broke, or my lungs start threatening to burst. I know their games. How was I to know the ol'knee was serious this time round? Well, but sadly, it was pretty grim. And then grumpy. Coz after Wednesday's run, it refused flatly to bend (to my whims). Anyways, 'elaborate' attention, two days of 'rest' and some kindness have been rewarded with the regained ability to limp, hop and occasionally walk without making a picture of myself. Tomorrow is the usual Saturday morning long run. And here I am, pleading with my knee to behave itself. People passing by my office are wondering what I am doing...some of them had queer looks of pure concern. (I distinctly read the "Poor thing, been running too much... first the knee and now... tch tch" expression a while back). My dustbin is an array of icepacks, covers et al. Well, now who can say I havent been good to the ol' body?

Anyways, after all that, I had to let go this way. Here's a sigh of (comic) relief! ...High... er... Sigh..!