tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-326283722024-03-07T09:55:37.710-08:00God's Last Name is NOT "Dammit"Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-34794266310680631262012-05-22T08:10:00.000-07:002012-05-22T08:15:29.809-07:00A Tale of Two Foodies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ok, I'm going to narrate a story. Disclaimer first : All characters in this post can be considered fictional unless the reader wants to believe otherwise. (Names might be deceptively realistic).Readers may be forewarned that they might develop a distinct liking, hatred, disgust, admiration towards the protagonists. (The whole gamut of emotions). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are two characters central to the plot of this story - let us call them Biraja and Bhargav. Cutting edge tech gurus, future leaders, agile scrum masters they might perceive themselves as. However, in the eyes of the surrounding environment, they appear slightly different. Jobless, time-wasting, generally bitching, always-hanging-by-cafeteria, nincompoops are commonly associated perceptions by all and sundry (minus the protagonists).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cut to the plot where the big boss, let's call him TMB (name withheld on request), returns from a foreign trip and drops a note to his minions through his secretary that there are foreign sweets on offer. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To give the reader a brief background, the lead star, Biraja, by virtue of being in a email distribution list which he is not supposed to be in, receives the invite. His immediate instinct is to ping his partner-in-crime, Bhargav updating him about the delicacies on offer. Both these esteemed gentlemen are on different floors in office and need to take two flights of stairs to reach the object of desire. (Read foreign sweets).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Leaving all pending work aside, the two souls dive to TMB's floor like thirsty camels heading to a watering hole. For good measure, Biraja, decides to empty his stomach to accommodate a second helping. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Post the warm-ups, the duo head to the abode of the sweets only to find the big boss standing right in-front of the cubicle like a nosey gatekeeper taking count of the visitors at the carnival. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To digress slightly, this TMB character can, at times, get as moody as a tiger that has been put on a strict vegetarian diet by its personal physician. So, caution is recommended while approaching a species of this kind.
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For a split second, the 2 thugs contemplate a 180 degree turn back to their respective cubicles. But the love (combined with shamelessness) for free food propel them forward (though the steps are not confident any longer). The duo make an effort to look intelligent pretending to look for other colleagues to discuss on matters of utmost importance. The boss notices the duo shuffling their feet, looking hither thither...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Boss: "Aur, kya chal raha hai boss"... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Simultaneous muttering (barely audible) heard: "Sir, Prakash sir.. looking for him, sir"... (and parallely) "Sir, Rajesh sir.. searching for him, sir".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Boss: "Hmmm"... (and heads back to his den)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Biraja seizes the initiative and enters the cubicle in an effort to get closer to the sweet box. To act intelligent and important, he searches for the above mentioned Rajesh and for the benefit of the entire floor shouts loudly (and in a disappointed tone) - "Lagta hai, aaj office nahin aaya hai".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then in a nonchalant tone, exclaims - "Acha, chalo, aaye hain toh mithai khaa ke jaayenge".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Note: At no point of time during the conversation with the boss or the secretary or any of the people around, were the 2 invited/offered for a spot of snack).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He (Biraja) picks up a white rubbery like bar (the sweet) and with an outstretched hand, hands it over to Bhargav, who is now viewing the object with a jaundiced eye.Almost simultaneously, he picks up another large chunk for himself and is about to bite it when the boss re-appears. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">More shuffling of feet by the duo, contemplating if a "thank-you boss", would be appropriate. Deciding against it, they scamper to the nearest exit like rats diving for a hole. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On reaching the exit, they realize that the size of the sweet box, intended for the entire floor was probably slightly larger than a match box (just slightly) and its 2 large chunks were devoured by people who were uninvited to the party. Almost instantly, they do what they do best, viz. blend into the background and vacate the place. Biraja, at this point of time, has almost broken into a sweat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The story ends abruptly with the protagonists gloating away at their resourcefulness , proud of the fact that this feat of theirs can go down the pages of history as one of the most shameless acts performed at the workplace(all for the cause of free food).</span><br />
<br /></div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-91442378628354274872010-10-27T06:17:00.000-07:002010-10-27T07:16:43.504-07:00Have Tongue, Will Talk<div align="justify">Phew... Long long long time since I've blogged... Infact I'd forgotten the URL of my blog... Attribute this to sheer laziness and no other alien activity... And the reason I'm blogging now is that I have nothing better to do while travelling back home from work; an activity that requires nearly 2 hours of my otherwise 'productive' time. (Read as facebook-ing/orkut-ing/Big Bang Theory-ing/HIMYM-ing etc...)...</div><p align="justify">(If you've followed some of my previous blogs, I tend to start off in this manner. It is a pure time-wasting, space consuming, getting-into-the-groove, getting-out-of-the-writer's-block activity. My sincere recommendation to all readers who have read upto this point is to kindly skip the above part. If you haven't, well , the joke's on you.)</p><p align="justify">Well, what I've actually done above is blabbered for a couple of paragraphs without conveying anything significant (not that the part following this piece is of any significant releavance). I've done this through writing; a significant number of people I'm currently in contact with do it, while talking. </p><p align="justify">I've always wondered how some people manage to incessantly exercise their vocal chords (much to the despair of the other members whose auditory senses have to bear the brunt). I had this eureka moment sitting in a meeting in office, when, 5 people in the meeting expressed the same thought (each trying to outdo the other in terms of decibel levels) in 5 different ways. All they were trying to do was set the agenda for the next meeting. </p><p align="justify">Ok. I'm not joking. Here's how it was:</p><p align="justify">7 people (including your's truly) sitting in a meeting room (And here's the clincher. No one knows why we were sitting in the meeting room. Ergo, there is a lot of small talk and cross talk happening). After about 5 mins, </p><p align="justify"><strong>Person 1 </strong>(Taking the initiative that has been talked about much in all the pre-MBA group discussion coaching forums): "<em>Ok. So help me understand, what is the purpose behind this meeting. Do we have an agenda?</em>"</p><div align="justify"><strong>Person 2</strong>: "<em>I think we are meeting to discuss what we'll discuss in the next meeting</em>"</div><p align="justify"><strong>Person 1</strong> (Before person 2 completes): "<em>I think what we should do is set up an agenda for the next meeting</em>"</p><p align="justify"><strong>Random person</strong>(joins in conversation and tries to shout to make himself heard); "<em> See, we are going nowhere. I really believe henceforth, there should be prior communication as to what will be discussed in the meeting</em>"</p><div align="justify"><strong>Person 1 </strong>(Shoots down person speaking): "<em>I think we should discuss the action items before we turn up for the next meeting</em>".</div><p align="justify">The debate continues for about twenty minutes with other parties pitching in with their thoughts at decibel levels that would generally have been heard by members of the canine family.</p><p align="justify">At the end of twenty minutes, someone realizes that it is time for the next meeting and stands up and shouts: "<em>All right. I think we should adjourn for the day. Let us come up with a basic framework of what we can discuss in these meetings going forward. Thank you everyone</em>".</p><p align="justify"><strong>Me</strong> (Sitting in a corner, fiddling with the arm rest of the chair, clearly agitated, mutters to self) - "<em>DUHHHHHH"</em> (There goes half an hour of my Facebook-ing).</p><p align="justify">The point I'm trying to make here is that people seem to live the philosophy - "Have Tongue, Will Talk", without having any concern or pity for the person at the receiving end. I normally have half a mind to ask people to shut their trap if they have nothing valuable to contribute. </p><p align="justify">But I guess, there is a section of people who believe otherwise. And a considerably large chunk, at that. So, I guess I have to confine myself to venting my frustrations at the blog levels and be happy about that. </p><p align="justify">In a totally unrelated topic, I've been reading about some Katy Berry and some hippie getting married in the Ranthambore jungles and that they violated some 11 pm deadlines. I am pissed. Mighty pissed at that. For 2 simple reasons:</p><div align="justify">1. Why weren't the tigers invited for the wedding. I don't happen to see their names in the list of wedding attendees.</div><div align="justify">2. Why, of all available places on good ol' earth, did these hippies go to a jungle to get married. What the beep are Kalyan Mantaps/Marriage Halls meant for!!! That being the case, why dont they get the tigers to mate in one of their wedding halls and then be allowed to feast on the honorable guests present. It's got to be quid pro quo.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">There. I'm done. Until my next post (God knows when that's going to happen), au revoir.</div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-22016428095465656032010-05-15T04:54:00.000-07:002010-05-15T20:53:04.166-07:00Wedlock or Deadlock?<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">For some, marriages are made in heaven; for others they happen in the chowlatries (kalyan mantaps)... Sad PJ to start with; but that's ok.. Author's privileges rule the roost.. :)</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">For some, marriage is the most important step / decision / turn / moment of your life.. (for all the corny / mushy mushy types)..</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">For some, "<em>Marriage andre hallakke beelodu</em>" (A killer quote by a friend).. (Translated: To get married is like falling into a deep bottomless pit).. </span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">I've been reading a lot of fiction these days... hence, thought that it is time to pen a story myself. And this being the marriage season, nothing better than weaving a tale or two on the wedding or let's say, pre-marital woes.</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">The protagonist / antagonist (depends on how you look at it) could be anyone. For the record, why don't we name him, say, Tudhi. </span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Let's describe the life of Tudhi - A pot-bellied, pampered, over-fed/paid, Software engineer battling the mid-life crisis. Intestingly, in the Pizza-Maggi generation, Tudhi has developed his pot belly not from cheese, beer or the likes but from the traditional 'tuppa', 'rice' and a staple 'Pulchar diet'. (For the uninitiated, a Pulchar diet is a South Indian Brahmin diet that consists of truckload of rice on which truckloads of Rasam is poured on top of which, ghee is poured generously. The amount of ghee poured would make an Arab Sheik pop his eyebrows in awe). </span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Coming to Tudhi's other activities, apart from maintaining his cylindrical figure, Tudhi relies on the modes of mass transport, namely the auto-rickshaw. Now, the auto rickshaw could be classified into the mass-transport category plainly on the existence of the word 'mass', a technical loophole which our hero likes to exploit.</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Tudhi's friends, are naturally concerned for Tudhi and his future and continuously pester him about his plans of settling down i.e. getting a nice sweet wifey, an IPL team full of kids, and an even fatter belly.</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Now, for Tudhi, marriage, is just one of those activities, which can be conveniently brushed aside or more so, like a check box item, which, once done, can be said 'ticked' off the list i.e. yet another banal chore. For him, the most important things are his afternoon siesta, his evening Pulchar dinner and his blissful sleep at night. </span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Tudhi's parents are equally as concerned as his friends. So, they decide to get Tudhi hitched. After all the horrorscope matching and all that mumbo jumbo, they settle for a nice sweet South Indian chickie, who they invite to their house for a tete a tete with Tudhi.</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Here's how the sample conversation goes:</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Sweet chickie:</strong> So, Tudhi, my folks say that you are a software engineer..that too an architect.. how can a software engineer be an architect? I mean, architects are supposed to design houses and software engineers are supposed to , well, sit on bench.</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Tudhi:</strong> (giving the chick a condescending look): Ayye, what do you think I say... I have written 25 stacks and 43 patents. </span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Sweet Chickie:</strong> But i thought stacks are made of wood and patents are there in hospitals... How can you write them? Do you use Natraj pencil... Hogli bidi, have you seen the latest movie Houseful a? Akshay Kumar looks hot no... Who is your favorite heroine??</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Tudhi (by now almost ready to beat the chickie):</strong> Ayyayyo, that is not patient... that is patent... And my favorite actress is Lalita Pawar... </span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Sweet Chickie :</strong> But Lalita Pawar is an actress from my great great great grandfather's era...</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">(Tudhi hasn't told the chickie that even he is from that era. Only few of his close friends know that, he secretly participated in the First War of Indian Independence. Infact, Tudhi's friends have seen him working from times immemorable but his resume says only 8 years)</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Tudhi </strong>(quickly changing topic): Tell me something about yourself</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Sweet chickie:</strong> (By now wondering if she is marrying a guy or a grandpapa): I am an artist.. I like painting, reading, singing etc etc.. I like to hang out with friends.. And I love pani puri..You know that Bhimesh chaats near sheshadripuram, he makes best masala puri... </span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Tudhi </strong>(Uninterested): Hmm.... Can you write wireless printing stack?</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Sweet Chickie:</strong> (Takes a pen and paper and scribbles on it - Wirless Printing Stack) - There..I have written it. Why are you testing if I know how to write in English?</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Tudhi</strong>: (Appalled and speechless).</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Sweet Chickie</strong> (In a last ditch effort): So, I hope you drive... I love sitting behind guys who drive very fast... when the wind starts blowing through my hair, i love it... Which bike do you have - Yamaha or Suzuki?</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Tudhi</strong>: (Trying to salvage some pride): I once drove Bajaj Chetak scooter...it had a sidecar also... I touched 20 kmph in that (and puffs his chest with pride). These days I drive that bike on the computer game, what is it called, oh yes..Roadrash... Dont worry, when we get married, you drive fast... I will cling on to the babies (and for dear life)..</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Sweet Chickie</strong> ( Ah..babies ah?? what Babies!!!!) - "Thathappa, namskara" - She touches his feets, seeks his blessing and runs away.</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>Tudhi</strong> : Hmm, ok, no problem. Oota ready na?? I am feeling hungry.. I hope there is Nandini Tuppa at home..</span></div><div align="justify">.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">That brings us to the end of this short story revolving around Tudhi and his pre-marital woes. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Whether Tudhi gets a girl of his type, or will he get change into the modern Tudhi with biceps, cooling glass, ripping on a Yamaha bike with gal behind him, is the suspense that one needs to look out. The story never ends... Tudhi will be back... Amen.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-76527527253610158082010-05-06T10:09:00.000-07:002010-05-07T02:10:27.861-07:00Powering Down<div style="text-align: justify;">These days I've been pissed more often than not...<br /><br />Before I left for Mumbai (to do 2 years of TP), I used to be pissed with these faarin return or for that matter metro return bangalooru boys, who'd crib about everything under the sun.<br /><br />Now after I've returned from Mumbai, I've turned into one those bengalooru boys myself. (For those of you who are fuming right now, Come on, haven't you seen a hypocrite in your entire life). So, technically speaking, I'm supposed to be pissed with myself.<br /><br />Now since, I am not interested in wasting my time hurling my abuses at myself (and have ample time and vocabulary to abuse others), I shall begin my tirade against the erstwhile KEB currently KPTCL /BESSCOM / I-dont-care-a-damn-about-your-name-till-the-power's-on.<br /><br />If at all there's anyone who needs to be sent to the electric chair (no pun intended) it's these guys.<br /><br />Oh, and that's not all. I come across this headline while reading the newspaper - "Unscheduled power cuts from today". Now, my pea-sized brain thinks that by the term 'unscheduled' they mean, some jackass (with a pot belly) powers on the circuitry and switches it off depending on his mood.<br /><br />I mean, why bother giving power. Candlelights and hand made fans can solve the problem.<br /><br />Why am I so pissed? 3 times in a row, just when the download status has reached 98%, the power's gone down. 3 times in a row. And all at random times. @#$*&#!*$%#@&$*@^$%<br /><br />Hallelujah. Praise the Lord.<br /><br /></div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-61629853734156912992010-03-06T11:54:00.001-08:002010-05-06T09:54:15.200-07:00A forgettable dayOne of the most frustrating days of my life<br /><br />- Ended up attending something by missing something that I wanted to attend..<br />- Ended up in a messy fight which was totally uncalled for<br />- Pissed off for nearly 2 and half hours without any reason<br />- Gave more than my 200% and still ended up being second best.<br />- Spectator to some scenes that'll haunt me for the rest of my life.<br /><br />Just can say one word. F***. There. Felt slightly better. Just slightlyBhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-10688277467563036352010-02-21T23:09:00.000-08:002010-02-21T23:13:23.399-08:00A Tall Tale of TimeWas just wondering how things change with time.<br /><br />Sample conversation with Dad:<br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">2009:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;">Me: Hello </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;">Dad: Hi, hegiddiya? (How are you?)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">2010:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;">Me: Hello</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;">Dad: How much cash do you want 'this' time?</span><br /><br />I rest my case.Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-64561665271576871812010-01-26T09:54:00.000-08:002010-01-26T10:36:06.365-08:00The Butt of All Butts<h3 style="font-weight: normal; text-align: justify;" class="GenericStory_Message" ft="{"type":"msg"}">ICC faces stiff challenge from India's latest cricketing extravaganza - BCC - Butt cricket. Messrs Bhargav and Vaibhav are the proud innovators of this wonderful game.</h3><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The other 2 Kumar brothers - Harsh with his Playboy-like batting stance and Nihal with his mammoth bat oops butt, contributed significantly to popularize this game in both formats i.e. the Test Format and the Round Robin Butt format. </span><br /><br />Special thanks to the umpire and the cheerleader who encouraged us wholeheartedly during the entire game.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The rules of the game are quite straightforward and are as follows:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">BCC Butt Cricket Rule No 1. </span>Bat = Butt, Ball = Crazy Ball or any ball that is not injurious to the butt and the area surrounding it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">BCC Butt Cricket Rule No 2. </span>The ball needs to bowled to the buttsman at approx 7kmph. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">BCC Butt Cricket Rule No 2. Subclause a)</span> Any ball faster than the butt-breaking speed will be called a no-ball and the buttsman has the right to appeal for "fast bowling".</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">BCC Butt Cricket Rule No 3.</span> The ball has to be hit by the buttsman with a "jhatka" (a-la Madhuri Dixit / Salman Khan in 'Didi Tera Dewar Diwana')</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">BCC Butt Cricket Rule No 4.</span> The buttsman will be declared out if any of the fielders catch the ball either a. Before it pitches </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> or b. Uses one hand to catch the ball after one pitch of the ball.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">BCC Butt Cricket Rule No 5.</span> Read above rules properly</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">BCC Butt Cricket Rule No 6.</span> Read Rule 5 twice. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">BCC Butt Cricket Rule No 7. </span>All disputes shall be handled by the match referee or the neutral (not gender neutral) umpire or may be resolved </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">a. through a barrage of expletives or</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">b. through the use of the extreme physical force such as fist fighting. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">BCC Butt Cricket Rule No 8. </span>Sledging is an integral part of the game and every game shall include sledging in totality for the game to be played in the true spirit. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">BCC plans to introduce the Butt-o-meter to encourage Butting (oops Betting).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">BCC Butt Cricket does not entertain any outside feedback and any queries regarding this format will not be entertained. Thank you. </span><br /><br /><br /></div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-52716230983749272272009-12-31T05:59:00.001-08:002009-12-31T06:18:24.983-08:00Adieu 2009<div style="text-align: justify;">It has been over 8 months since I've blogged... I guess the 'hectic' MBA life could be attributed for such a long period of inactivity (my friends @ NM and partners in crime would vouch for that :P :P )...<br /><br />Am posting this while I'm waiting for the 3 idiots (Hari, Nachi and Kunta) to land up at my place. Funny thing is that it used to be many more idiots... just the 3 of them remain.. And the sinking feeling is that the head count is decreasing at a rate faster than my receding hairline..<br /><br />The plan for the new year bash is unclear... well, there are no plans as of now.. There is 1 car and there are 4 people.. we'll probably end up going where the car takes us... I think the way I'm ending 2009 encapsulates the entire year has gone... (and probably the way life has shaped up)... It just brings a smile (rather, a smirk) to think of the irony of life... The more you make plans, the more confusing it gets...<br /><br />Yet another year gone by, yet another set of events gone by; some trivial, some significant; new friendships were forged, some were well, not broken, but just separated by distance; some drifted away;<br /><br />Every year that passes by just drives home the point that <span style="font-style: italic;">What you want and What you get might be mutually exclusive</span>.<br /><br />I'll just leave this here - as a point to ponder, for any random visitor who might happen to chance upon this post..<br /><br />Adios for now and wish you all a very happy and prosperous year 2010.</div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-9722741529976657672009-05-19T09:32:00.000-07:002009-05-19T10:22:15.309-07:00What's In A Name?<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Ever since I was a kid, people have been calling me all sorts of names except for that one decent name, my folks thought would identify me. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I've been tagged as "<span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Suppandi</span>" (for my stupidity) by my cousins; a name they'll probably use even when i'm an age-old grandpa (won't talk too much about grandpapas here.. more on that later)..</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Enter school where people referred to me as <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Guinea Pig aka Piggie</span> for my nearly football shaped body and a pouting nose. That name stuck to me for nearly a decade and hell yeah, I used to be annoyed by that one; though I din't have the fitness nor the drive to chase down the bullies who called me a Piggie. D'oh.. :x (Some of the meaner ones used to chant "<span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">Dummi</span>" - a fat, really fat, girl... They had a song for it as well... Bhari-dummi, handi mamsa i.e. pig fat, chicken mutton)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">2 days into my engineering, when I felt I'd exorcised the demons of Piggie, and hey-presto, I got a new nick name - <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);">Thatha </span>aka Grandpapa. My wise-ass friends keenly observed my glaring physical attributes - a receding hairline and a pot belly and they decided that I was the "Thatha" of the gang. God, did that name stick to me like a leech. Oh, and shortly the same set of folks also started calling me "<span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);">BM</span>" - an acronym of a famous kannada quote that I'd better not quote :). Now, here was a guy who had nested nicknames. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Scene: Engg college canteen, football session goin on...</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Deepak: Oi Thatha, pass the ball...</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Me - ignore and take ball forward...</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Hari: Loafer BM, pass the ball to Deepak...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Deepak and Hari together: Loafer Thatha - BM, ball pass maado... </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">And I'm like "D'oh... that's like saying Bhargav Bhargav ... like some african tribal called Djemba Djemba..</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Ah... Sadly, these names stuck with me during my MindTree days as well. And as luck would have it more names got appended. This time the car gang named me <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Khokua</span>. For the uninitiated, it means Gundygut or Glutton. Some respite huh!!!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Fresh set of faces, different location... I thought I'd left my legacy of nicknames back in good old Bengaluru when I left for Mumbai to do my MBA... Alas... Some folks just don't have any luck.. :(</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Here, it is/was of a different kind though... Initially, the junta just couldn't digest the fact that Bhargav can be a first name as well (and not necessarily a surname)... once they came to accept that, I was better known as <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Bhaskar </span>- coz brand-Bhargav recollection was a numeral that the Indians claimed to have discovered i.e. zero. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">After Bhaskar came <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 0);">Baga </span>(after the dumb-guy in Lagaan)... People have started called me Bhargava or Bargav (minus the 'h')... To add to my woes, the faculty calls me "Uday" and virtually every lecture I end up giving proxy to my dad... </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Faculty: "Uday has something to say about this case"</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: "Err...My dad hasn't read the case study... Uday Jr. has a point or two"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Faculty (While calling out the attendance): "Uday"</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: " Yes Sir..." (Haah..take that...successfully gave proxy to my dad.... yet again)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I try to book my flight ticket and I get a mail saying "Mr Chandra, your flight details are..."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">In a fit of rage, I delete the mail only to realize that I haven't boarded the flight yet... </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Just when I thought that the place where I'm interning would be nick-name free, i get my email id which says "bhargav.udai@..... .com"...Spelling mistake..that's the last straw...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">And today..what prompted me to post this blog - Some random chap in office calling me "Bhargesh"!!! D'oh :x</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">For the sake of everything that's holy, it is <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">BHARGAV </span>- B for Boring, H for Hopeless, A for jackAss, R for Retard, G for Goofy, A again for Jackass and V for Vork-shirk (does work start with a V or a W?)</span><br /><br /></div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-56907940337099362162009-05-09T01:55:00.000-07:002009-05-09T02:01:21.874-07:00Random Saturday Mutterings<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">True..I like weekends.. I mean, who doesn't.. (Blah..din't have any other way of starting off this post).. Am lazy to have breakfast/lunch, right now... The very fact that I have to provide the momentum to get my posterior up from this comfortable bed makes me think twice...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Shifted to my new apartment... Am now the proud 'part-owner' of a rented flat in Juhu!!! Whoa...The Juhu!!! (Question: If it is a rented flat, how does it make me the owner? Ans: Good question )</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">To take a break from the eternally stressful entity called work, I've been tracking the general elections and of course IPL.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> I'm voting for this Mulayam singh bloke. To me, this guy has been the best of the lot in terms of speech... He's promised that he would be banning English and computers. Nice. This is exactly the kind of people our country needs. I mean, why do we need computers? Or english for that matter? We could go one step further and ban schools as well. No Schools => no colleges => no exams (Note: This comment is purely accidental and any correlation with the author's exams and pending results are purely coincidental). We need more leaders like him. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> Moving on to the IPL, I am pished. Mighty pished. Being a diehard Bangalore Royal Challengers fan, i am upset at the fact that the Icon Player of RCB hasn't been featuring in the Playing - 11. He is 42 years old and he needs a walking stick. He's got supreme talent but it's just that he cannot bat, bowl and field. Barring these minor aberrations (that can be overlooked), he's a great asset. Sunil Joshi - you have me on your side.</span><br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /></div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-83835369152729259382009-04-14T09:59:00.000-07:002009-04-14T11:31:33.904-07:00Ah... The Vome Sick The Me<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;">Thanks to the extremely 'long' break that i got between my exams and summers (2 WHOLE DAYS), my homesickness has increased exponentially.<br /><br />Strangely, today it was a different feeling though; wasn't the regular 'Miss my folks', 'Miss my friends' homesickness.<br />Just jotted down what I missed today (and over the past few months):<br /><br />-My Girlfriend :) :) (With a TVS Victor - name tag :) :)<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">-My TT practice session</span><br />-My bean bag (which was the culprit behind my '33' - waist size (to be taken in past tense)<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">-My Casio Keyboard (The neighbours are happy though :o)</span><br />-7 am breakfast with piping hot ghee-masala dosas at Sidappa's and Chikkanna'<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">-Weekend visits to Blossoms book house</span><br />- Amoeba bowling alley (and beating Hari comprehensively :P :P)<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">- My Super-Fast BSNL broadband connection</span><br />- My neighbourhood library<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">- Mafia sessions at MindTree</span><br />- TP @ MindTree :P :P<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">- Speaking in Kannada (currently, I'm in a bad shape - I am bad at English, I don't know Hindi and I'm forgetting/gotten Kannada</span><br />- My set of Tinkle and Indrajal comics<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">- World Space radio</span><br /><br /> I cannot go on any further... the list is never ending...<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"><br />Boo Hoo... 2 more months...<br /><br /><br /></div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-74020230140913544522009-03-20T08:00:00.001-07:002009-03-20T08:06:08.247-07:00Not So EntertainingWhy do people try to pi*s me off everytime...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4rVuqJtoCBZbIkKNFcGrJx8wGiiyup9l2Y7GrCkJqABYtK1UhBn85qFKJ6vMVYgsZTQVV6I03P9r2uoODqpD9VGJo1rjT_aIZLi1il15wia15rxpY29eGLF5zVW36SmYxfKxbQQ/s1600-h/Blog.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4rVuqJtoCBZbIkKNFcGrJx8wGiiyup9l2Y7GrCkJqABYtK1UhBn85qFKJ6vMVYgsZTQVV6I03P9r2uoODqpD9VGJo1rjT_aIZLi1il15wia15rxpY29eGLF5zVW36SmYxfKxbQQ/s400/Blog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315285932068406290" border="0" /></a><br />Well... I'm not interested.. nor am I entertained...Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-87415030341438220922009-03-11T12:14:00.000-07:002009-03-11T12:33:49.986-07:00Holi-day<span style="font-family: arial;">Played Holi today. Calling it 'played' would be an understatement.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Was dragged out of my room at around 10.30 am. (Joshi - my roomie categorically told me that t-shirts were being ripped apart. He saved one t-shirt of mine as I decided to go bare chested).</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Was given 5 whiplashes (the whip being a banian soaked in all sorts of colors).</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Joshi again saved me by warning me that people who had applied oil to their body would be scrubbed with 'rin' before being doused with colours. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Some 'sane' bloke got this wonderful idea of creating a 'Nagraj' out of me. God knows what the mixture was (it smelt like a mixture of paint and grease), but its application on me rendered a face that would have given an African a run for his money. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Took me 5 scrubbings, once with a brush that is used for washing clothes, to get rid of one layer of color. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Resembled a kindergarten kid's coloring book gone bad..</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Played holi at 10pm again, this time, with the gals around. Thankfully no nasty colours this time, one wash and everything was off... </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">It was fun all in all... (barring the post-holi bathing)... Waiting eagerly for '10 Holi..</span>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-65575042175562005622009-03-08T09:11:00.000-07:002009-03-08T09:16:11.175-07:00Lucky DayHad a bit of a lucky day today... Just managed to scrape through all rounds of Antakshari before hitting form in the final round... Managed to lose the toss as well in the final round, which actually proved to be a blessing in disguise in terms of the questions... Got 'masakali' in the dumb c round which was a sitter...<br />Was lucky enough to scrape through JAM finals through a series of objections...<br />Was lucky to get movies like Shawshank Redemption, events like Euphoria and personalities like Pranoy Roy in the final round of pot pourrie...<br />8th of March wasn't so bad after all... :) :)<br /><br />Nice. I finally believe in something called 'luck'Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-78174561140784469262009-03-05T09:30:00.000-08:002009-03-05T09:36:39.842-08:00A heaven named Woodlands...<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;">Am too bored to blog... Infact too bored to do anything at all, right now...<br />Just returned from heaven... I din't know that heaven had an alias - 'Hotel Woodlands - Juhu'... Vaibhav, the broke soul, had to convince himself that the hostel mess food was 'nutritious' and 'tasty'... Of course, his credit history ain't that good for any of us to be lending him any money.. :) :)<br /><br />Found a very cute kiddo in the hotel... just felt like beating up the parents (for cheap thrills) .. and then direct a movie called "Beat The Parents"...<br /><br />Now on a novel reading spree...<br />Just done with Eric Segal's "Love Story" - It wasn't all that bad... Well, in hindsight, it was a good book...Shetty was right (for a change) :) :)<br />Gotto read "Prisoner of Birth" and "Gates of Fire" simultaneously.. Got Dirk Gently waiting in the pipeline with "India's Bismarck" as well... God help me in my third trimester exams...<br /></div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-65730509863554904692009-03-01T10:29:00.000-08:002009-03-01T10:35:45.204-08:00Yet Another Arbit Post...Binged on rice today... Found some Restaurant called 'Woodlands' that had pics of 'Taranga' for display (that too in the heart of Juhu)... Nice... Had enough lunch to skip dinner... Bisibele bath was great as well...<br /><br />Created 'FabCare/FabKare/ whatever, today'... Main features<br />- Washing clothes in Juhu Beach<br />- B-plan that made losses, not profits<br />- Realizing our dreams through your money (<br />- Delivery vans with the photos of the creators (B-I-O-S)<br />- Chairs in a laundry shop to 'entice' old people (whoa)<br /><br />I think the excess-rice finally got to me..Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-6207002449817136152009-02-27T12:03:00.000-08:002009-02-27T12:09:15.374-08:00Arbit Post<div style="text-align: justify;">Just found out the purpose of my existence (for those who don't know read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy) in the Corporate Strategy session today. There are 5000 varieties of cheese and I've just tasted 3 of them!!! So... 4997 to go and a whole lifetime ahead!!<br /><br />Had been to Churchgate to meet Dad. He took me out to a couple of good "South Indian" restaurants. (And promptly regretted it). I acted like a malnourished kid being fed by a social worker (well, I couldn't have acted like one as it was a genuine case)<br /></div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-39874344963445526462009-02-21T03:16:00.000-08:002009-02-28T22:55:48.536-08:00WHAT THE !!!*&^^%%^$^$<p align="justify" face="arial">I AM PISSED!! Pissed with AB's baby. Pissed with a certain Ramprakash Omprakash Mehra whatever. Pissed off with a Moto Rockr phone. Pissed off with a stupid pigeon that<br />hogs more than 5 minutes of screen time.</p><p align="justify" face="arial"><br />I mean, come on, which insane moron could put Abhishek Bacchan in the lead role... The only role that suited Abhishek, was that in Dostana (where he was a natural)... Oh..And all the other roles where he dies in Scene 1 - (Good riddance) and the rest of the movie is carried through by other actors. (More about the death part later).Whenever there is Abhishek starring in a movie, you can observe the side actors / actresses, the trees, the backdrops and u'll find their acting better than his. Though it is quite amazing that he can pull off any role by portraying a constipated look. </p><p align="justify" face="arial"><br />I am so pissed with this movie called Delhi-6 that i actually began to like "Ghajini"!!!! Whoa!!! "The Ghajini". Infact, Delhi-6 makes Ghajini look like a sensible, well-crafted, enjoyable movie!!!! (More Whoa!!!) (Eyebrows, registering shock, raised so high that they are touching the back of my head)!!!</p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify"><br />Another funny part of this movie (unintentional on the part of the director though). Abhishek ATTEMPTING to speak English!!!! And that too with a foreign accent. (Someone should tell him that he needs to work more on his tribal language first, which mostly sounds like Jhingalala Ho, Jhingala Ho, Hur, Hur; before making an attempt to speak ENGLISSSS). Tell you what; AB's baby is a Software Engineer who is on a BIG BIG BENCH!! Who else would come from America and stay indefinitely in India without having any plans of going back... </p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify"><br />Right through the first half of the movie, uncle (read as AB's baby) roams around advertising his Moto phone. (Again, Moto has been stupid enough to retain him as a brand ambassador even after they've closed down operations in India. Duh!!!! I diint know that they were dumb enough not to identify that he was the cause for their brand failure in India. I mean, which sane guy would buy a Moto phone that AB's baby endorses!!! Hail India - the land where sensible people<br />live)</p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify"><br />I still haven't been able to figure out what the director was trying to prove by stretching a 5 min movie to over 3 hours. Bugger doesn't have any sense of time. The most important part of the movie, and incidentally, the most entertaining part (where AB's baby was lynched by a thoughtful mob) lasted just for 5 min. I had offered to pay Su and the rest of the junta, Rs 10 (out of sheer joy) if AB's baby died in the movie;Rs 100 if he had died in the beginning of the movie. Though I was disappointed that neither happened, I did shell out 10 bucks when they beat the hell out of him. (God, How i hope that the filming of this scene was real) </p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify"><br />Now to that godda*n pigeon. Masakali. Why...why..why, pray, does someone have to name that stupid pigeon Masakali and all it does it walk around here and there without adding value.. heck..had it atleast done what it can do best (leave bird-droppings) on the so called Hero's head, I wouldn't have objected for its existence in the movie. </p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify"><br />Oh... I'd mentioned that AB's baby hits on Rishi Kapoor as well.. (Which is why I said he was a natural in Dostana).. Sample this: "You know, you are a very good looking guy" followed by "I am from America". I mean, how can anyone (anyone but AB's baby) call that obese, old, white-haired Rishi Kapoor "good looking"???!!!!! </p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify"><br />Now for the 4 best parts of the movie:</p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify">1. The sensible mob lynching AB's baby.</p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify">2. The 5 mins i missed out during the interval buying popcorn. (I realized the importance of having spent those 5 minutes in a productive manner).</p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify">3. Sonam Kapoor - The only other value-add (apart from the popcorn) that prevented me from leaving the theater midway (and not shouting obscenities during the course of the movie). </p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify">3. Writing this blog after the movie.</p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify"><br />And what pissed/pisses me off more than Delhi-6? Vaibhav spilling more than half of my popcorn!!!</p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify"><br />P.S. I'm coming out with a new movie called Bangalore - 78 (if that guy can make a stupid 3 hour movie after a Pin code of Delhi, why cant I make a full fledged Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi series with Bangalore?)</p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify">P.P.S. Sagar (aka Subbu) came up with this brilliant status msg (very apt as well) which left me in splits. I've taken all necessary permissions from him to upload this as a part of my revised post - Sagar.Leo says : "<span style="COLOR: rgb(192,0,0)">gosh!! had their will prevailed, d monkeys livin at 110006 wud hv sued AB2 4 portrayin kala bandar"</span></p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify"><br /></p><p style="FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify">P.P.P.S Roopam's status msg..another killer status msg...everyone seems to be in form "<span style="COLOR: rgb(127,127,127)">LATEst on "Bandar mania" :-- Monkey man has been spotted living in PEACE at Jalsa,Juhu,Mumbai-400049 ...wen he gets bored,he does however fly/leap to delhi-(11000)6 and terrorises innocents <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,95,255)">;)"</span></span></p>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-34791956431298349292008-08-31T13:44:00.000-07:002008-08-31T14:28:45.289-07:00Mercury Rising...<div style="text-align: justify;">Phooey... Nearly 3 months since my previous post.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Truth:</span> I was so busy with college and studies that I din't have the 'time' to blog. (DUH!!!)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lies:</span> All me do in college is play DC (dumb charades) and do time-pass. Me a lazy moron and me dint feel like signing into blogger. Ergo, no posts from the past 3 months.<br /><br />Fahrenheit (the inter-div competion) at <a href="http://www.nmims.edu">NM </a>just got over today and me writes about what me saw/perceived (D'oh!!! No OB jargon allowed in my blog) @ Fahrenheit.<br /><br />Here's just a brief intro about the entire Div C: 60 odd bunch of supremely talented individuals, each unique. Love to jabber-jabber a lot post 2pm and consider 9am - 2pm as the hibernating period. Droopy eyes, dreamy looks characterize these bunch of wierdos (including myself) during the first half of the day. It's the second half of the day when the 'other side' of this bunch can be seen. Can eat a chocolate ice cream topped cake (mmmmmm..Chocolate..mmmmmmmm) in record time. (Err... 'Eat' wouldn't exactly be the right word here... Devour would probably fit in).<br /><br />Aaargh.. digressing too much from the topic. I'll write about this whole fahrenheit thingie in truth/lies fashion. (This manner of writing was introduced by the co-author of the blog <a href="http://jobless-dot-org.blogspot.com/">http://jobless-dot-org.blogspot.com/</a>. All copyrights reserved).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Truth</span>: Lady luck was with Div C. Hence it won fahrenheit.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lies</span>: As I mentioned above, Div C has a set of 'supremely' talented individuals. And when this pool of inherent talent come together, there's nothing stopping them.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Truth</span>: Div C won by a whisker.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lies</span>: Clean Sweep of Fahrenheit 2008. The others were competing for the 2nd and 3rd spot. I don't expect this kind of a performance to be repeated in the years to come. (Unless the current members of this section participate). The score of Div C (200) was much more than the sum total of the 2nd and 3rd teams put together. (100+90).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Truth</span>: There was lack of co-ordination in Div C.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lies</span>: OB, Individual dynamics, team-work etc etc shouldn't be taught in class. All they had to do was watch Div C's performance in Fahrenheit.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Truth</span>: The competitors were just peers.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lies</span>: The seniors and juniors of all the divisions of MBA-Core and MBA-sectoral combined, couldn't match upto the might of a certain Div C, of which most of the contribution came from the junior batch.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Truth </span>: Div C sneaked in a few points here and there and managed to win the first prize<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lies</span>: Mad-Ads - 1st, Dumb C - 1st, JAM - 1st, Poster Making - 1st, Antakshari - 1st, Light Indian Music -2nd, Movie-Spoof - 3rd, Choreo - 3rd, Gas-o-meter - 3rd. That was like, 9 out of 10 events. Do I need to say more???<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Truth</span>: Div C won by cheating<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lies</span>: DUH. Losers have excuses for everything. They blame the position of the moon, the stars and even the vada pav outside the college for their loss. I've got one statement for most of the others who say that div C won by cheating - "People inside glasshouses shouldn't throw stones at others".<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Truth</span>: Div C won Fahrenheit.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lies</span>: Div C dint just win Fahrenheit. It won it COMPREHENSIVELY!!!<br /><br />Div C ROKKKZZZZZZZZZZZ....<br /><br /></div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-10715522836887362912008-07-03T08:42:00.000-07:002008-08-31T13:36:17.723-07:00Vacation's over...After nearly a 3 year honeymoon period in the IT industry (read as no-work), I get back to college once again..<br />I feel a sense of deja-vu after the first 10 days in college...<br /><br />Here are some things which I revisit in my college life...<br /><br />1. Sitting in the back bench<br />2. Switching back to Prepaid mode.<br />3. Trying to make new friends.<br />4. Finding the first friend in class and later realizing that he is a jackass.<br />5. Listening to friends rant about their crushes and girlfriends. And then giving them some 'crude' advice.<br />6. Bargaining with the local shop keeper for petty amounts.<br />7. Daily checking the balance of my mobile.<br />8. Asking a friend to return the 2Rs he had borrowed for coffee.<br />9. Going to the hotel, hogging like a pig, and leaving without tipping the waiter.<br />10. Having crushes on seniors but fearing their boyfriends.<br />11. Fudging an assignment from the studious people in class.<br />12. Dozing off in class and giving an understanding nod to the unsuspecting faculty at regular intervals.<br />13. Playing pranks on any arbitrary individual.<br />14. Laughing at anything and everything in the middle of a session.<br /><br />...and some things which I am experiencing for the first time:<br />1. Hostel Life - I don't have something called a 'private life'. Added to that a factor of homesickness.<br />2. Ragging: Have been at the delivering end but never at the receiving end.<br />3. Washing clothes - God bless the inventor of the washing machine.<br />4. Living with 4 people in a single room.<br />5. Giving missed call to folks back home and waiting expectantly for them to call back.<br />6. Studying from day-1.<br />7. Going half-way to college after forgetting something and not getting a call from mom.<br />8. Speaking in Hindi for most part of the day. (Something at which I'm horribly bad and the cause of my non-participation in certain conversations when hard-core Hindi is used. My Hindi language is limited to "Arre yaar", "Kya", "Kyon","Kahan" and ofcourse the obscenities.)Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-37756859988997959372008-06-18T09:37:00.000-07:002008-12-09T21:30:56.352-08:003 mistakes of MY lifeBefore I start... Here's what a "<span style="font-weight: bold;">Just Married....</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"> ...</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"> ...</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"> To My New Lappie</span>" status message could do to the no of people pinging you.. :) :)<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrVYvEQgg7ZAeQzA6KXZDNXkN-TOZT5E4YHam0S5unGTnD7B58diY9HgOSPKPe7Qly1xRVmmat8Fb-sLwBmd4VHuqzFaZhd-TgVH-HXWR8oxkk4d0osti4_3N9ALaOyTwhhZpd5g/s1600-h/blog_3mistakes.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrVYvEQgg7ZAeQzA6KXZDNXkN-TOZT5E4YHam0S5unGTnD7B58diY9HgOSPKPe7Qly1xRVmmat8Fb-sLwBmd4VHuqzFaZhd-TgVH-HXWR8oxkk4d0osti4_3N9ALaOyTwhhZpd5g/s400/blog_3mistakes.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213268225585560418" border="0" /></a><br />Now, coming to the 3 Mistakes of my life:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mistake #1:</span> Reading Othla's post on <span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;" ><a href="http://chamaks.blogspot.com/2008/06/more-than-3-mistakes-of-my-life.html" target="_blank">http://chamaks.blogspot.com<wbr>/2008/06/more-than-3-mistakes<wbr>-of-my-life.html</a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mistake #2: </span>Writing a comment for the same.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mistake #3:</span> Writing this worthless post to highlight my previous 2 mistakes.Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-72265932870770335122008-05-22T07:23:00.000-07:002008-05-22T07:30:27.609-07:00When Time Came to a standstill...<p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;" ><o:p> </o:p>It was one of those bright sunny mornings - the ones that normally turn up after a Royal Challengers Bangalore victory, a rarity in itself. The day held no indication of the sequence of events that were to occur later in the day.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;" ><o:p> </o:p>A hungry bunch of software proffessionals (with one ex-pro) set out to fulfil the signals sent by the stomach and their taste buds on this glorious morning.<span style=""> </span>The trio waded through the exponentially increasing <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">bangalore</st1:place></st1:city> traffic, jumped traffic signals and cursed fellow motorists on the way to, what one can describe as, a foodie's heaven. <o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;" ><o:p> </o:p>A 20 minute wait in the queue to enter <a href="http://chamaks.blogspot.com/2007/07/eat-outs.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pattapatti Sidappa</span>'s</a> house boosted the trio's appetite with one of them being a regular, one a future customer for life and the third one a newbie. While the omni-present "Kumaranna" served one "tuppa-khali" after another, the hungry lads munched on.<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;" >2 idlis, 2 tuppa khalis and one half-rice later, the unthinkable and<span style=""> </span>un-imaginable happened.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;" ><o:p> </o:p><span style=""> </span>The arrival of the <span style="font-weight: bold;">half masala-dosas</span> for the trio brought salivating, eye-popping stares from the fellow customers. While the regular and the would-be-customer-for-life gleefully offered their plates to devour the much awaited half-masala, the newbie placed his hand half an inch above his plate signalling his denial for the half-masala. (half-masala at Siddappa: The third greatest invention of all time, with the first being "<span style="font-weight: bold;">Pappu</span>" and the second being "<span style="font-weight: bold;">i-Pod</span>").</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;" > Time came to a standstill, the earth stopped rotating on it's axis, bandes started thinking, software engineers started working and several other impossible things happened all at once. This gesture brought about stares so vicious, the stares that could've burnt houses from the fellow customers. Some of them had expressions on their faces which displayed a host of emotions, from anger to surprise, all at the same time. Kumaranna himself was the most surprised of the lot and muttered an unmistakable "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D%27oh"><span style="font-weight: bold;">D'oh</span></a>".<span style=""> </span>Till date, no one had ever, ever, refused a half-masala at Sidappa!!! The only happy person was the lady sitting next to the newbie, who literally pounced on the dosa before the newbie could change his mind.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;" ><o:p> </o:p>The newbie tried to make amends by apologizing and devouring another half-masala (which arrived 20 mins later) but the damage had been done. Mankind would never be the same again. <o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;" ><o:p> </o:p>Interesting story, wasn't it? It most definitely wasn't a fictitious one - a story based on three lives which would never remain the same thereafter. The regular - Karthik MV, the future-customer-for-life : Myself and the newbie (and the anti-hero) of this story - Sarang. <o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;" ><o:p> </o:p>People say life goes on, but this act will have significant impact on the lives of these three. For Karthik, he will never be treated again with the same respect at Sidappa; Sarang: Shrinks have already started analysing the various causes that might have led him to do the un-thinkable and for me: I'm still pissed-off that the half-masala went to the lady on the other side of Sarang and not to me. <o:p></o:p></span></p>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-72924363251025878192008-03-02T09:07:00.000-08:002008-12-09T21:30:57.059-08:00Planet Of the APES<div style="text-align: justify;">'Tis been a month and half since I've posted something worthless. In other words, I've been accumulating truckloads of bullcr@p that I can dump on unsuspecting individuals who happen to visit this blog either by chance or 'coz of repeated nagging from moi. Me has always believed that some people can be extraordinary jackasses and me plans to enlighten more people about that. (Dont be surprised if you see a halo after reading this post).<br /><br />Recently, I had to visit Mumbai for some reason that can be classified underSection2320923 of IPC. And for that, me had to book a two way flight from B'lore to Mumbai. Me return flight was at 8.30pm from Mumbai and it got cancelled. (Thanks to that I was offered FREE dinner at the OBEROI!!!!!). As a result of this, i was offloaded to some other International Flight that happened to be passing by Mumbai. The point to be noted here is that the flight was at 3am.(Me has never seen that time of the day).<br /><br />Sitting at the airport I happened to chance upon a couple of weirdos who could be preserved and displayed in some museum. Sample this:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" >Airport Authority</span> (at the flight boarding gate): "<span style="font-style: italic;">Ahmedabad, Ahmedabad, Ahmedabad</span>!!!"<br />(Now those of you who've visited the Majestic Bus Stand in B'lore will know the kind of tone that I am referring to).<br />And here's what our pal had to say to all those passengers who were entering that terminal after their security checks and passport stampings: "<span style="font-style: italic;">Ahmedabad, Ahmedabad??</span>" (in a questioning tone).<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" >Me thinks</span>: "DUDE, what the Fudge is the Public Announcement System for?!!!@#&%$#*"<br /><br />And just as I thought that this was the limit, in comes Mr Smarty Pants, well dressed, carrying a laptop bag.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" >Airport Authority</span>: "<span style="font-style: italic;">Ahmedabad?</span>"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" >Smarty Pants :</span> "<span style="font-style: italic;">Haan.. Ready Hai</span>???"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" >Me</span> mutter to myself: (with the choicest of swear words): "What the *&%$!!!! Do you have an option to take another flight. Heck, this aint a bus stand where you take a bus that's ready to leave, birdbrain. (More curse words)."<br /><br />And mind you, all this is happening at 2am at an "International Airport"!!!<br /><br />If you think that's all, hang on, there is more in store. Me boards flight, me promptly drifts into slumber.<br />Suddenly, me feel something shaking. Then me realize that the something is my body and some external force is applying pressure to shake me body. Me wake up groggy eyed only to see an air-host (NOTE: not an air-hostess).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" >Me</span>: "<span style="font-style: italic;">Have we arrived</span>?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" >Air-"Host"</span> - " <span style="font-style: italic;">No Sir, here's your snack</span>"<br />Me check time: 4.00 am (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)<br />At un-earthly hours, me brain doesn't function properly and cannot recollect swear words. So, thanks to the short-circuiting of some of the nerves in my brain, me uttered some curse words that sounded something like this: "htryl garb bwjel ajworyw ereradfa"<br />Me thinks at least me will have snack: Me open box and me find 2 slices of bread which half a slice of cheese in between and a visiting card that says "We hand-pick the choicest of food for our invaluable customers"<br />Me pished big-time.<br /><br />Now, moving away from the airport incident(s), me was going to work and me found this instruction written on a government building "<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">DO NOT URINATE</span>". Me being a simpleton and a person who does not want to get into the wrong side of the law, promptly decided to obey this order issued by the government. It so happened that my biological system is least concerned about the Indian Laws and me had to break the law after me controlled myself from urinating for over 4 hours. (The police are probably on the lookout for me now). Me thinks that the instruction should've been "Do not urinate <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">HERE</span>", but who knows, me is an uneducated duffer and me takes little or no interest in local affairs.<br /><br />Sample another one: Here's a direction finder board that displayed in big bold letters on JC Road:<br /><br /> <span style="font-weight: bold;"> K.R Market </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> Majestic </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">Richmond Road</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEDk_09BTgGb1MEEjCqvkHzgoLWcEGJigcj1A9Q_Mr5PFPX8IFQ5d77yhQ2tzKWWARIy7vCKSG56TPgsoME0fJ-zNixlvkIcooE3PLBlZGiLZ9FW7PAQUZU7l8KQTamebxm96iw/s1600-h/pic1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 49px; height: 49px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEDk_09BTgGb1MEEjCqvkHzgoLWcEGJigcj1A9Q_Mr5PFPX8IFQ5d77yhQ2tzKWWARIy7vCKSG56TPgsoME0fJ-zNixlvkIcooE3PLBlZGiLZ9FW7PAQUZU7l8KQTamebxm96iw/s200/pic1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173207149399842258" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX7ue2pTECocEHr094KzSUvhj5c5WpkB9j8ClV_GU4HkuExdCSUFjwGuv9gqcnjl7-7Uhvh-MYxPxWoHaOav7srYCSXm2Nxn5AZZM5VsGC8A5gH6gDh3ap0rbEvlNUBr4SD35acw/s1600-h/pic2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 55px; height: 57px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX7ue2pTECocEHr094KzSUvhj5c5WpkB9j8ClV_GU4HkuExdCSUFjwGuv9gqcnjl7-7Uhvh-MYxPxWoHaOav7srYCSXm2Nxn5AZZM5VsGC8A5gH6gDh3ap0rbEvlNUBr4SD35acw/s200/pic2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173207772170100210" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05CloXzYOEWuJXCYWG2VGXHX3-wf5KWm8FcCL3PpoSbT1CMSwkQyekWFV-Fj54zfWZAZZJu1KYm5VEL2Yzhz7GryBUYlVH7uPlhexhdjDX7NkJuQp-nRin0_IWFWb0Q5sN4GwQQ/s1600-h/pic3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 64px; height: 61px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05CloXzYOEWuJXCYWG2VGXHX3-wf5KWm8FcCL3PpoSbT1CMSwkQyekWFV-Fj54zfWZAZZJu1KYm5VEL2Yzhz7GryBUYlVH7uPlhexhdjDX7NkJuQp-nRin0_IWFWb0Q5sN4GwQQ/s200/pic3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173204950376586674" border="0" /></a><br /> <br />As far as I know, one could reach majestic by going straight ahead instead of digging and going underground!!!<br /><br />With that, i've dumped all the bullcr#p that had existed in my system for a month and a half.<br /><br />Before I sign off, here's a killer one:<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" >Gyan on the back-side of autorickshaw</span>: "<span style="font-style: italic;">LIFE IS DRAMA. MAN IS ACTOR</span>"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" >Me</span>: "<span style="font-weight: bold;">D-U-H!!!!!!</span>"</div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-33061494210455049372008-01-15T03:11:00.000-08:002008-12-09T21:30:57.633-08:00Native HangoverBack to Bloggyland after a seemingly long period of inactivity. (Read as Non-availability of topics).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="font-style: italic;">First of all, I would like to offer my tribute to the person who, though technically speaking was not my grandmother, was as doting as my other Grannies. I feel a stab of pain when I recollect some fond memories of her... And a pang of guilt surges as I could not be beside her when she breathed her last. May Rohinakka's soul R.I.P. </span><br /><br />Secondly, I doff my hat to<span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" > iPod</span>, the second greatest (i really mean greatest) invention of all time, the first being "<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Pappu</span>" (A delicacy made out of Dal, available at Andhra Style restaurants... Slurrp...Slurrp).<br /><br />Back to my post. Me just returned back from Tirthalli and it's taking some time for me to return to normalcy. I could safely say that the past 3-4 days were some of the best-est days of my recent times. I could describe the trip in 6 words flat (not counting the hyphens): <span style="font-weight: bold;">Eat</span>-<span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleep</span>-<span style="font-weight: bold;">Eat</span>-<span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleep-More Sleep</span>. In the process, I haven't done anything good to my ever increasing waist size. I might add that there were few instances of sheer lunacy (good enough to get us admitted into Ashok mama's hospital) that fit into this eat-sleep cycle.<br /><br />Sample this: Sitting in the crowded hotel-beside-the-busstop at Tirthalli and ordering North Indian Delicacies that I/we (read as Dharmashree Rao and your's truly) haven't tried in B'lore. (Disclaimer: They were delicious). Whilst waiting for our order, singing loudly enough to have attracted attention from say, half of tirthalli. (P.S. Anushree and Nidhi were really dignified in their behavior. From the corner of my eye, i could see them trying to disassociate themselves from us).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnJmWeI-T078kMxyPoBxkU38EAzv4RMXZeDhqqwzburvc1fLVGKQiXNk2XTSMiAfC5HnEuTM2J6Hi8UO5RBmfZKXCzeLIp5RBvSXj0f3e8l8OztgQiWvGvvBAqmAM11bxthpM0xw/s1600-h/DSC01621.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnJmWeI-T078kMxyPoBxkU38EAzv4RMXZeDhqqwzburvc1fLVGKQiXNk2XTSMiAfC5HnEuTM2J6Hi8UO5RBmfZKXCzeLIp5RBvSXj0f3e8l8OztgQiWvGvvBAqmAM11bxthpM0xw/s200/DSC01621.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155667933955830418" border="0" /></a><br />Or this : 4 of us fatsos (fatso would be an understatement) squeezing into a bed (that was made for a 1 normal size person or at max 2 really really thin people) and successfully dozing off for about 3 hours. The pic should prove that I'm not exaggerating.<br /><br />How bout this: Going to the TTH (TTH - ThirThaHalli) bus stand on Sunday morning with all bag and baggage ready to go back to B'lore/M'lore and then just before boarding the bus changing our mind, deciding to stay back for another day, sending back our bags with a stunned-Duttumama (He was all set to get rid of us.. hehehe) and then boarding the same bus to go to Bhadravati instead to visit Jayashree Doddamma. And if you think that was all, hang on... Singing our way to glory in a bus full of townsfolk and attracting "you-must-be-from-outerspace" looks.<br /><br />Or going to a Mallu restaurant in Shimoga!!!!!! (Wowow... Mallus even in Shimoga!!!!! And of all places we had to go there!!!) and ordering a "Cocke" (I mean "Coke"). Can it get any worse??(Disclaimer: I dont mean any disrespect to Mallus, but they're there just about, say, everywhere).<br /><br />Enough said, let me get to the actual post.(I'm assuming that the readers have managed upto this point painstakingly). When me thinks of me childhood, the first thing that comes to me mind is TTH. A haven of fun and frolic...I've never spent a boring day in TTh. From times immemorial (immemorial atleast to me), me has always looked forward to go to what others call "native" and what I call "home away from home". And each time I go there I remember some of the wonderful times I've had with my cousins (In descending order: Ganeshanna, Shilpakka, Madhavanna, Dharmashree Akka, Shruthi, Dharmaraj, Anushree and Nidhi), my uncles and aunts who have been surrogate parents to me when i've been there( 'm reallly really lucky - and I thank my stars for having such wonderful relatives. Note: 'Wonderful' would really be an understatement). From making paper boats (using Kodachaadri newspaper) to eating Gobi Manchuri at 10pm sitting on the bridge, I can just say "<span style="font-weight: bold;">Been there...Done That</span>".<br /><br />Recollecting some of the noteworthy incidents at Tirthalli:<br />-> Walking all the way to Koppa circle under the scorching sun, all for a Maaza, and then getting conned. (Ganeshanna, you owe us one. :D :D).<br />-> Having a stone throwing competition at Kalsaara, and then getting blasted left, right and center by a lady.<br />-> Playing hide and seek behind the pillars and getting Madhavanna Out. (The modus operandi was scream "Madhavanna, there is something behind you" and voila he used to run from his hiding place).<br />-> Sleeping on the "Upparige" Joola oblivious to the entire outside world.<br />-> Feeding(should I say overfeeding) a cow to the point of indigestion.<br />-> Duttumama's jokes... (Chit Chaat Chataal , Guddi Guddi etc).<br />-> Maralugudde. (Can write a post on that, but will restrict myself).<br />-> And lots more. (Thanks to my memory I haven't been able to recollect all of them. Please do leave a comment of your memorable incidents).<br /><br />And each time I leave from the place (or about to leave from the place), this is the feeling:<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">"Yeh Ghadi Na Jaaye Beet"</span> (Song: Aa laut ke aaja, Movie: Rani Roopmati).<br /><br />Me thinks if there is any place called Heaven, it has to be at this house by the riverside in this small town called Kuruvalli. I rest my case.<br /></div>Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32628372.post-14909723661170527572007-11-25T08:36:00.000-08:002007-11-25T08:50:21.523-08:00TPGPL Reloaded!!!!!<span style="font-weight: bold;">TPGPL is back with a bang!!!! </span>Today's meeting just proved that...<br />Anyways, for those of you who've forgotten... Here is a re-introduction of the key-members<br /><br />CEO <span style="font-weight: bold;">Tiger aka "Hemanth":</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Claim to Fame:</span> Poli Maathugalu...FreshhandHonest<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Quotable Quotes</span>: "Nin hendt....... kodtiya???? Bejar madkollalla...loafer nan magane" (I was at the recieving end :( )<br /><br />CTO <span style="font-weight: bold;">Bande aka "Deepak"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Claim to Fame:</span> Allah ke bande<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Quotable Quotes:</span> "Toota toota ek saaman aise toota..."<br /><br />CFO <span style="font-weight: bold;">Kunta aka "Sriram"</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><br /> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Claim to Fame: </span>(In)Famous jump from 5-point something wall, Vagator, Goa / Irrepairable 15 degree bend in left ankle.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Quotable Quotes:</span> "Yamma... Yeno haikonde"<br /><br />COO <span style="font-weight: bold;">Mallu Boy aka "Sharath"</span><br /><br /> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Claim to Fame:</span> Adda<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Quotable Quotes</span>: "Adda" / "Ooo f**k" (before falling from bike)<br /><br />HR<span style="font-weight: bold;"> BM aka "Bhargav"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Claim to Fame</span>: Darshini, K.R. Circle, Bangalore.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Quotable Quotes:</span> "Sss side ge hogu"<br /><br />Recently deposed <span style="font-weight: bold;">CEO Gay aka Students aka "Hari"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Claim to Fame:</span> Mock Interview<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Quotable Quotes:</span> "Steve Waugh bowling mettage baratte.... aaadre pace iratte"<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bladebubba Nachi</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Claim to Fame</span>: Bubbalogue<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Quotable Quote</span>: Request the rest of the members to fill in<br /><br />Software Engineers <span style="font-weight: bold;">Mom aka Nish</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Claim to Fame</span>: Pondi in Placement Office<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Quotable Quote:</span> "1 year celibacy..."<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Shetty </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Claim to Fame</span>: Yet to come<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Quotable Quote</span>: "Mmmdddiga".<br /><br />Request others to post similar intros...Bhargavhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05703865800767169475noreply@blogger.com2