365 Days of Matrimony

Yes. It is our first wedding anniversary tomorrow. Love you baby. Always.

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Another Cliched Article On Blogging

Indranil Chakraborty writes in this latest piece on bloggers on Financial Express:

In future, blogs would not remain as a mere text posting site. With convergence as the buzz word in the digital world, soon the bloggers interested in picture blog would be able to send photo from the mobile camera phone. Indian portals are also getting ready to introduce more blog services like podcasting (IPod broadcasting).

Another cliched article on blogging. Seems like Indranil did not even bother to research. 'Convergence as the buzz word in the digital world'!? Hello! waky waky! Indranil talks about Kribs but, as always, fails to provide the URL of his site. Hmm. These guys will never learn that outbound links increase your credibility and of course your pagerank.
I don't understand why Sify is talking about blogging. Try finding Sify's blogging service from their website sify.com. And if you are lucky and find the blogging service, try signing up. Whoever is behind the design deserves a pat on the back... When he or she is standing at the edge of the cliff that is. In other words, the service sucks big time. Do not go there. Indranil, why didn't you talk to Rediff Blogs? They were the first Indian site to launch blogging services in India FYI.

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Honnemardu: bLogout Part 2

...Continued from Part 1

Ganapathy a.ka Gana (I think I called him Ganesh in part 1? Did I?) dismissed us, asking us to get ready to go to the island for camping. 'You will carry tents and equipment', he warned us. I was pretty miffed by it but understood and adjusted to it later on. What camps like these does to you is that they make you realize how far away you have drifted. For example, most guys had trouble negotiating even a few meters of the terrain on bare foot. The camps also teach you self-sufficiency; you wash your plates and mugs, you carry your food, you lug your tents and so on. I realized in this trip how helpless I would be if I were castaway. I can't drink water from natural sources. It was so easy for Gana to say, 'Water? Yes, there is a well there. You can drink from it. Don't worry too much about those frogs, they actually purify the water.' Yeah right. I was happy initially that I carried mineral water bottles but now I am ashamed of myself. But the toughest adjustment of it all was the john. Out of the three Indian style toilets, two had no real doors. And we had to use the harvested rainwater to wash up. I won't name the guys, but I know quite a few of them that did not take a crap during those two days. Overall, it was an eye-opener of sorts.

So, we were a bit dazed post-lunch. It was too much reality for a day. We had no clue how drastically our reality will be altered in the night. So, we trekked to the luggage room, changed, and climbed down. After some sickeningly sweet chai, we were off to the island to camp for the night. Oh I forgot about the rains. Well, the rains started around lunch and never really stopped. The huge question that hung over everyone's head was 'how the hell are we going to camp in the rain?' Gana said 'The tents will protect you 90%' and I took it at face value. I should not have.

All pictures are here: http://flickr.com/photos/tags/blogout

We carried our tents and stuff and hauled them over to our respective coracles. We rowed harder as the ominous cloud looked like it would burst open any moment. Let me pause for some more gyan here: coracling, canoeing, or any other similar activity will teach you how helpless you are. When we started rowing (the first time) our coracle went in circles. All of us were rowing at the same time instead of synchronizing and hitting a rhythm. Now we know why the fishermen and boatmen sing; it gets you the rhythm. Our coracle beat the rest again and we lugged our tents onto the island. The only life I saw on the island was the brown-back toad. They were all over the place. We walked along a mud path (created by campers I guess) and we reached a clearing that already had a few tents pitched in. The rain switched to a steady rhythm once the wind stopped. The occasional 'brrrropttt' of a frog, the buzz of the rain lashing the trees, the wet earth, and distant voices... it was very psyching. Gana was busy pitching a couple of more tents. As darkness swooped in on the island, the rains celebrated it by increasing their tempo. And I found myself squatting in a tent with Satheesh, and Senthil who were singing songs. Before long Venky, Vasu, Arnab and Anita joined us. Vasu regaled with a brilliant ghost story, set in Sulur near Trichy, and warned us too, 'Don't make fun of ghosts. You will repent in the morning.' At around god knows what time Gana hollered 'dinner'. I did not eat but I believe that the rest enjoyed the Chapattis, rice, Rasam, and Kheer. And we decided to give the bon fire chance. Even Gana could not get it going. Enter: Arnab. He came up with this cool idea of using deodorant sprays to get the fire going. We almost had the bon fire going but the rains had the last laugh.

The five of us somehow managed to adjust in the small tent. Right when we thought that it was going to be a comfortable night, Arnab screamed, 'Water is seeping in!' Soon, Adel followed suit. We had zipped the tent up from inside, so Venky and I were suffocated. All of this was a bit too much for godmother I guess. She was pissed off and she launched into a vehement attack, 'What the **** ya? This is a camp, what do you expect? Why do you cry like sissies ya? Come on ya!' So, Venky and I moved to the door of the tent, unzipped it and sat there, resigned and sleepy. I heard someone telling me, 'don't venture out after twelve, Ganesh said there are ghosts around here.'
And there was the snoring championship. It was a clash of titans between Anita and Vasu (who was sleeping in the adjacent tent). They snored and served about ace after sonic ace. Vasu tried to up the ante with some valiant efforts at hitting the notes in the fifth octave but Anita's strong baseline play thwarted it. The match was a draw, but we lost sleep. As Venky and I sat there listening to the snoring duo unleash their repertoire, we heard voice from other tents: 'Are you guys ok?' 'Are you ok?' So, Venky and I tried to wake people up by knocking on their tents but no one responded. Probably they thought we were ghosts. So we got back to the tent and at some ungodly hour succumbed to our screaming muscles and slept off, all wet.
I woke up around half past six in the morning and figured I was the only one up and about. I was standing next to Vasu's tent when the earth trembled under my feet. My first thought was 'earth quake' but it was Vasu shaking it all up like a dog just out of its bathtub. Only, he was still sleeping. The shake it up was accompanied by some weird, garbled noises. Satheesh, Vasu's tent-mate apparently did not even wink.
We started towards mainland, carrying our tents. We dumped them in the coracles and rowed towards mainland. The morning breeze eased our worries and the thought of breakfast made us row faster.
We ate Chitranna for breakfast and had that sickeningly sweet chai again. By the time we wore our life jackets and hit the lake again-this time to try the Canoes-it was around ten in the morning. The sun peeped out from between the dark clouds. I did not try the Canoe but apparently lot of people capsized in the water. Sathish has the unique distinction of capsizing on land!
I just could not resist the temptation to jump into the water. I did but only for a short while. We had to get going.
We made Gana call a cab from Talaguppa. The first batch jumped in and it was almost an hour later that the cab returned to fetch us. We left Honnemardu with heavy hearts. Gana came with us till Talaguppa. He was going home to his village.
From Talaguppa we caught a bus to Sagar. We caught a Shimoga bus from there.
Ganesh and I had plans of putting a 90 in Shimoga but we were not sure if we would have time. We reached Shimoga around 2030 hours. Ganesh, Venky, and I caught an auto, reached a local wine shop, and put 90 each and rode in the same auto back to the station. I was thinking the trip was over but the TC on the train did not let it end.
Kripa's name had an F against his name instead of an M. The TC was probably trying to make some quick money. He was adamant, 'I want female!' he announced with finality. Kripa flashed his driver's license but to no avail. The strict officer would not budge. I wanted to tell Kripa to flash his other irrefutable proof that he was male when a senior TC intervened and settled the matter for us.
We reached Bangalore the next morning at 04:30 hours. So, that was the world's first bLogout folks. This is Sumankumar signing off from Shimoga 90 radio. [The effect of some RJs in the bLogout you know]
Also Read: Part 1

So, all those that missed the boat this time, pray that we go on another bLogout. When? Where? How? What? Watch this space baby.
All pictures are here: http://flickr.com/photos/tags/blogout

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Australians Spooked?

They have been spooked out by The Lily of Lumley, the ghost that is believed to haunt Lumley Castle, the hotel in Durham where the tourists are staying before their NatWest series encounter against England tomorrow. [Link]

Ha ha ha!

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Bangalore Chills Out

With the clouds thickening by the day, temperatures are likely to dip further reaching a minimum of 18 degrees C, says the MET office. [Link]

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Honnemardu: bLogout - Part 1

Long post. I don't want you giving me gyan about the length of my posts. And all those losers that never made it, eat this. At least!

The bLogout started on a shaky note. Four people had dropped out and the number of people was 19 on D-day. So, on 17 June, at 2230 hours, all of us met up in the Bangalore city railway station.. By the time we hopped on the train to Shimoga en route to Honnemardu, we didn't even do the introductions part. Nothing special happened on the journey to Shimoga but for two anal retentive guys asking us to shut the hell up. They wanted to sleep. I think people are jealous bitches you know? When they spot a gang of young (well, not so young) people going on a trip, they will look for ways to puncture the happiness and excitement balloon. Like one time when they deliberately bumped a table being used by teeners playing poker games. They did this time too. The train left Bangalore around 2300 hours. And except for the three dudes (Arnie, Venky, and yours truly) the rest were asleep. Also, the fact that the gang was spread all over the compartment made it difficult to hang out. Finally, even the three dudes had to give up talking as the guy in the next coupe said, 'please no disturbance please. If you want to talk, go talk to the door.' We shut up but my curiosity got the better of me and I woke him up after a few minutes and said, 'what did you say sir?' I don't know why he had the helpless, serial-killer look on his face when I asked him that. Anyway, that was that, and we went to sleep.
We reached Shimoga around 0445 hours. Our 'bus train' (a train that runs on a bus engine; has only two coaches) from Shimoga to Talaguppa was at 0600 hours. The Britishers are behind this bus train; they used it to carry supplies to Malanad, or so I heard. We had to cross the tracks and a goods train (stationary of course) to get to platform 4, the abode of the bus train. The left-over darkness from the night before clung on, and the first light was just getting its foot in. It was in that insufficient yet dramatic light that we spotted the bus train. It stood there, rooted to the aging railroad; all beat up by the whiplash of time; like a sad, lonely woman waiting for her man. Any man.
The bus train reminded me of a ripe old man; proud of the past, poignant about the present, and almost certain about the future. About the end that is.

As the night segued (I discovered this word recently hee-hee) into a gloomy, sunless dawn, the bus train lurched forward like a resigned, old horse pulling a Tonga. Ten minutes later I noticed that the one striking thing about this part of the world was the green. It was sickeningly green all over. We chugged on real fine, stopping at non-descript hamlets and eating up the distance like prison meal. The Ticket Collector became a bud thanks to Vasu. We stopped for chai in a village. The driver and the TC both were out. Isn't it funny? 'Can I have one more chai, do we have the time?' and the driver went, 'Sure. Take your time.' I wish every train driver had that luxury. After a couple of chais and some real bad jokes (courtesy Arnie, Venky and me) we moved on. Adel came up with a word game and some how what I thought was a bad idea, caught on and we had a great time. The 'other' gang, the non-bloggers that is, chose to hang by themselves. God knows why. Probably they were sleepy or xenophobic or both?
We reached Talaguppa when the clock struck nine and the sun was hiding behind the dark clouds like a drunk that sold his wife's ring. We found a couple of cabs in downtown Talaguppa. We asked the drivers to wait and headed to the small shack that promised hot breakfast. That's where the 'other' gang broke the ice. After breakfast, the two gangs merged and we started towards Honnemardu in the two cabs. The time was around 1000 hours, there and there abouts.

Honnemardu Day: 1
The cab raced on the wet, dirt road and I could sense a distinct change in the landscape. The bamboo trees lined the road like loyal sentinel. The place looked untouched by the dirty hand. The cab pulled over outside a tile-roofed house in the middle of green nowhere. To our left we spotted the water body. Straight ahead there was a winding, mud road that lead to god knows where. Anjana found a beetle that shrunk itself into a ball when someone touched it. I was thinking what if I stomp you moron? But then did not voice the thought. There were a couple of dogs and to me they looked like Jungle dogs. Even the cows appeared 'wild'. As I was psyching myself to glory, Ganapathi, the CEO, king, prime minister, president of the united states of Honnemardu called for attention. 'No littering, no smoking, no drinking, you do your own shit, be responsible, wear that life jacket, and brush your teeth. Fast!' was the gist of his machine-gun English. I was surprised that these guys from Villages (I assume they had no formal education) spoke the language so well. Queen, your majesty, aren't you proud? Screw Charles, he is a horny bastard, but look at your pet natives and their fierce loyalty!

Anyway, dear reader, let me pause here to give some invaluable advice. If you are one of those city slickers that drinks mineral water, runs on a treadmill, and can't take a crap anywhere else but the john, think twice about going to Honnemardu. It is your ass. Don't tell me I didn't warn you. There are no toilets in Honnemardu. It is not a luxury resort. They don't have rooms for god'ssake. We knew it before we went there and we wont (grit my teeth) complain. There are three Indian style toilets (two of them without real doors) in the basecamp, but don't ask what to do when nature calls you when you are camping on an island. Again, don't go there if you worry too much about all these creature comforts. If I find you writing ill or bad mouthing the facilities in Honnemardu, I will track you down, and bring you down to China town. Okay? Aaaarghhh.

Pics: Kavitha's (to be added: Adel's, Dheepak's, Satheesh's and Anita's.

So, we first did a minor trek to reach another tile-roofed house to dump our luggage. This house was on a hillock that gave a nice view of the dam. We dumped our stuff and climbed down and walked towards the water body. We read on the web about Honnemardu. 'Honnemardu' is supposed to be a village submerged under the Linganmakki reservoir. We knew that the water body is over 150 ft deep, 30km wide and 60km long. and that innumerable islands dotted the water body. Knowing is one thing. Experiencing is another. When the man-made lake presented herself to us, full-view, our jaws dropped. The water was dark green and the lake stretched as far as our eyes carried and beyond. We were in a different place and time. The lake must have gobbled up a lot of trees. Some defiant trees stuck out, only adding to the poignant beauty of the place. There was no trace of civilization. None at all. The thick forests on the islands, though looked like home to a lot of wild life, actually don't host too many animals. Even the birds were far and few between. Or maybe my untrained eye did not know where to look. What is weird though is the fact that we couldn't find fish in the lake. No fish. Isn't that scary?
Anyway, after a demonstration of how to use the life-jacket, Ganapathi asked us to jump our asses in the lake, and we obliged. We swam for a while. A couple of them were scared to death. Floating in water is a weird feeling I tell you. And if you can't swim, it is worse. After some time, we jumped only to jump back in to ride the Coracles. Ladies and gentlemen, this bLogout has gifted the world its new Coracling champions. Give it up for Anita, Arnab, Venky, and yours truly. We beat everyone by a mile. We went around islands as if it were a merry-go-around. But nothing comes close to that moment when we stopped the Coracle in the middle of the lake, behind that island. The serenity was overwhelming and so pure that I stopped using the F word for a while. Ok, I was kidding, I never really stopped using the F word.
My arms were all sore from the rowing. Every muscle in my body was screaming. Ganapathi screamed at us to go for lunch. We went to the base, helped them move the food to this (yet) another tile-roofed house that served as a dining hall. I have never wolfed down the simple food, sambar and rice like I did that day. [...Contd]

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Flavors on Star Movies

Folks, Flavors, a movie by my school buddy DK will premier(TV) on Star Movies on 1 July 2005 at 2100 Hours IST. Watch it!

REFRESHINGLY UPTEMPO, LIVELY & SLICK - The Hollywood Reporter

If you're in the mood for a charming, romantic comedy that strays from the genre's predictable formula, you should take in FLAVORS - Toronto Star

BRIGHT & GOOD-SPIRITED - The New York Times

A film that is different and fresh in the face of a profusion of cross-over films. HUMOROUS. WHOLESOME. INNOVATIVE. - The Hindu

For a comprehensive list of reviews:
http://www.flavorsthemovie.com/reviews.htm

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bLogout: A Great Success

While the Pod-cast meet planned by Kribs did not rock the charts, our bLogout—a weekend trip to Honnemardu—was a super-duper hit. I will post the world's first bLogout story shortly. Watch this space. Kribs maybe you should have gone with us on the bLogout. Tough luck. And all those that did not make it to Honnemardu, well, I can't tell you how sorry I am for you. You have no idea how much fun you missed.
Later folks. This is Suman signing-off from Shimoga90 RAYY-dio ;-)

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The Fraudster

This morning I saw this mail. I won't disclose the name of the sender.

Hi Suman,
I was searching on net and I found that you are a certified Brain bench technical Writer. I am not a certified and very busy with my office schedule. Could you please take certification by my name?
If you clear it and give me the certification, I will pay you $50.

And I responded:

F*** you. Do me a favor roll the $50 bill and shove it bitch. Who the hell do you think you are? - Suman

One may think that my response was too, er, strong and adolescent, but that felt good Yeah (I tried three other responses like 'hi, I am a nice guy, I don't do such things ' etc.).
I almost sent a mail to his employers but didn't want to ruin his career. Apparently, our man is from the USA. And he needs brain surgery. Doesn't he?

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The Pataudi Effect

Sharmila Tagore said:

“Instead of actors lighting up on screen, they can chew on a toothpick or a pencil. It is possible to depict a scene without a cigarette and it would have the same desired impact. Smoking (on celluloid) can be avoided,” says the yesteryear actress." [Link] [Via Baiscope]

Mr. Pataudi's genius sure did rub on her.

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Govt Bans Smoking In Movies

A small step for the health minister; a huge leap in stupidity for the country. We had so many movies where a single man takes on the might of the evil politician and his thugs (hundreds of them). Are people doing it in real life? Not that Bollywood is making a lot of good movies, but hey, even morons have rights. Sigh! What about drinking scenes?

"Whatever the government says. We'll have to follow it. The order is out and we have to obey it," said Shah Rukh Khan, actor. [Link]

Sure Mr.Khan. Exemplary, I should say. We are not talking smoking here sir, we are discussing curbing rights.

However, films that depict a historical era or personality will be exempt from this ban. The ban also extends to television serials. [Link]

Ha ha ha. That reminds me of an incident that happened a few years back during my college days. About ten of us were seated, all in a row, in this humid movie hall. Eagerly waiting for the movie (English) to start. Why eager? The posters and the trailer had promised lot of steamy scenes and cheap porn. The movie started and within a few minutes it reached the pivotal part: the heroine segues into this this dream after staring at a guy's picture for exactly 2 seconds. We were transfixed by what followed next on screen. It was, looking back, the most stunning 'scene' ever; what with our tigress heroine burning the guy alive with her passion... hmmm. Anyway, the scene ends with our heroine waking up from her reverie and flashing a coy smile at the camera. The entire crowd in the hall were stunned. You normally don't get such treats from movie halls you know. And this guy in the front row groans and almost screams, 'Awww shit. That was just a dream?? I thought it was for real.' And we laughed till we died that day.

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Today's Top Headlines of Indiatimes.com

TOP HEADLINES11:51IST

• Vagina freedom or try-before-you-buy?
  
• 6 truths about sex before marriage
  
• Did Tendulkar or Dravid ever dope?
  
• Is Aishwarya Rai becoming too fat?
  
• 6 geekiest music players
  
• Kumble will get India the World Cup
  
• Girls to Batman: don't do sex, please
  
• I'm not in love: Urmila Matondkar

Say hello to the torch bearer of Indian media.

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Digital Camera Buying Guide

Shopping for a digital camera is stressful. Most stores carry a fraction of the 200-plus cameras on the market, and except at specialty stores, salespeople aren't much help. You can ask friends for recommendations, but even if they love their camera, it might be discontinued, given short product cycles. Don't throw up your hands and give up. A little information, some strategizing, and our reviews can make the process less traumatic."

[Read the whole piece on PC Magazine ]

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Prasad Bidappa Detained in Dubai For Carrying Grass

..And see what Mrs.Bidappa said:

Bidappa's wife Judith said the issue is not whether her husband smokes marijuana but the fact that he was found carrying it in a country that does not permit this.
"What is permissible in some cultures may be a crime in others, including public display of a section, dress code and consumption of alcohol," she said. [Link]

Since when did our 'culture' started 'permitting' grass? If he was indeed carrying it then he is guilty even under Indian law. Man! What do these people smoke? Oh well. You must be out of your mind to do something like that in—of all the places—Dubai. I hope Prasad makes it back to Bangalore.
Read a wicked post on the same issue by Sonia (via Amit)
See what Marc Robinson has to say

This is devastating news. I hear Prasad has only a bed, a toilet bowl and a table now, friends there have actually taken him sheets! I hope this ordeal will be over soon, for both Prasad and his family.
Marc Robinson, choreographer [Link]

Very sad Marc, but you know there are millions out there who don't even have that table and that toilet bowl. Freak! I want to take an IQ test of all these fashion world personalities. Or are they perennially stoned?

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YABA: Yet Another Blogger Article

Ramya Kannan says in her article in The Hindu's Sunday Magazine, "They create an identity for themselves on the Net and chat about a variety of subjects. Some bloggers, however, arrange meets to put faces to the names". Well, with all due respect, she is technically correct. But the same definition applies to Instant Messaging users also. What differentiates blogging is publishing. The power of publishing to the lay person. Let's not go there. What's the big deal in a bunch of people meeting up anyway? Unless it is something like our June bLogout? ;-)
I think it is high time we stopped defining what a blog is or who a blogger is. A blog is an interactive personal website. Period.
What's with mentioning URLs and not linking them? Ramya what maa? Hey! You have linked only Nirenjan. Hmmm. Edho paathu seyynga.
Read it on The Hindu

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Citibank Online Customer Service: Pathetic

I wonder who the genius is behind Citibank's online customer-service. Check this out:
I wrote to them the second time. I gave them all details of my lost check (but why should I f***ing give all details like where I dropped it, the payee bank, the angle at which I slid the check into the dropbox!? I gave them the goddamn check number and they respond saying 'please provide all details'.

Hi I lost a check. I gave you the check number in my last mail (see ref number 6705056088). I dropped the check in Standard CHartered bank on MG Road Bangalore. It was my Suvidha check. Please spare me your marketing and customer service talk and send me a reply that has some solution in it. It is my hard earned money. If the check is not found, I want to go for a stop-payment. Call me [edit] And for godssake treat this as urgent. Suman
PS: You wanted feedback on your site and service: Your site sucks. What do you mean by Please do not use any special characters [edit] when entering your query. English language demands that I use quotes and double quotes and apostrophes. Suman

Check their reply. I added the emphasis.

Dear Mr. Sumankumar, This is with reference to your query dated June 01, 2005. Kindly note that any information given in the subject line will not be accessible to us. Hence if you had given an y information in the subject line, kindly provide all the details along with the query. We request you to provide us with the following details for us to trace out the status of the cheque. 1.Cheque number 2. Amount of the cheque. 3. Date of Cheque. 4. Name of the issuing bank 5. Date and place of deposit. Upon receiving the above details we will do the needful.

Okay, I think some agency is handling e-mail support. But, why would they not have access to subject lines! No shit!
What's worse is I can't see a thread of the conversation on my online account page. They retain only the last two e-mails. And, though they collect your e-mail id, they won't Cc you on responses. Why? Because Citibank charges for e-mail and mobile phone alerts. Another wonderful thing is that it is impossible to figure out how to unsubscribe to these alert services. So, I keep paying them every month despite the fact that I never wanted the service.

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Women!

Either way, the findings, published this month in Biology Letters, a journal of Britain's The Royal Society, don't mean women who inherit an unfortunate gene package will not be able to achieve orgasm, experts say. They just mean that more work, or patience, is required.[Via The Hindu: ]

The reminds of a mean joke by Dr. Dominic Franks: How do you know a woman achieved 'it'? Who cares! Disclaimer: I don't subscribe to that joke. Bad joke. Very bad. Some people, I tell you.
{Suman ducks for cover as the feminist brigade prepares to assault him.}

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Search within a site: The Google juggernaut rolls on

This is very cool:

Using the Site Search feature, you can narrow searches to a specific website [admissions site:www.mit.edu]. But what many people don't know is you can also use Site Search to narrow searches to a top level domain, which I found handy during tax season: [1099 site:gov].
Right now, Site Search can be used for top level domains (.org, .edu, .mil, .com, and .net), as well as country domains like .it (Italy) or .sz (Swaziland). As more of these come into play, topic-specific searching could become even easier. Via the Google Blog

Hmm. If you are a blogger.com user, here is a work around for categories. Did I hear 'How do I do that now?' Grrr. Think.

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Technology: Microsoft Knowledge Base embraces RSS

The Microsoft Help and Support site is now providing an RSS feed (Really Simple Syndication) for its Knowledge Base (KB) articles. [Link]

Well, well, well. MS is only syndicating its KB articles, but I am thinking a step ahead: deliver an online user manual (also) through RSS. Most organizations are moving (or have moved already) to XML based authoring, and generating RSS feeds from there should be a walk in the park.

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Where are the ice candy men?

This afternoon, at Nandini on J.C. road, after a sumptuous Andhra lunch, I asked the aging waiter what he had on offer for dessert. The balding, portly man sincerely suggested fruit punch. I clicked my tongue in exasperation and ordered ice cream with fruit salad. The waiter's eyebrows shot up north in appreciation. The women-Chitra and Savi-did not have room for a dessert but they looked like they were up for a walk down the nostalgia lane. So I obliged:

Back in 80s, in Chittoor, the horn of the ice candy man sent our adrenaline surging. Clad only in shorts; braving the merciless summer sun and molten tar that burnt your feet; we would run to him. And we would almost cling to the wooden edge of his cart (an igloo box, wooden cased, and it rolled on two scooter tyres). He would then open the cart and slide the lid off for us to see what he had in store. Grape ice (candy with a few grapes thrown in) was a luxury. I would not even dream of Bournvita ice as it was one rupee and I could afford only ten paise. So, I would settle for the basic ice candy. And if the ice candy man was generous enough, I would get a chance to squeeze the horn that sounded like an adolescent elephant's mating call. Now do not ask me how I know what a horny pachyderm sounds like. Poetic license people.

And of course, during my trips to Chennai, a trip to Pondy bazaar was mandatory. I would walk all the way from Eldams road to Pondy bazaar to buy one of those cone ice creams. The ice-cream vending machines were on the pedestrian walk. So, quite a few shoppers would stop and buy the cone ice cream. I would grow restless waiting for my turn. Finally, the ice cream would slip out of captivity into the cone. And I would grab it from the vendor and walk back home. I would eat it slowly, negotiating the ice cream until it sat in the narrow butt of the cone and in one definitive flourish, and I would dunk it in my mouth and crunch it. Heaven! I tell you.

When I got back to Chittoor, I would extol the greatness of the cone ice cream to all the Grape ice and Bournvita ice eating rich boys about how it will take at least 50 years to make it to Chittoor.

Today, I don't hear any ice-candy horns. Not in Bangalore. Not in Chennai. Not in Chittoor. I think the ice-candy man is gone for good; hammered into submission by the big, bad, capitalists.
Now a days, it is the Hot Chocolate Fudge at Corner house. Or, we will just buy the Kwality Walls packs and store it in the icebox. The next time you hear a forlorn, desperate horn through the simmering heat of summer, please step out and buy an ice candy. And hey, don't forget to squeeze that horn for me.

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Book Tagged!

I was tagged by Sukumar. Here I go:

Total number of books I own:
About 400?
Last Book I Bought:
I bought all works (fiction) of Yendamuri Veerendranath.
Last Book I read:
The Call of the Wild - Jack London
Five Books That Mean a Lot to Me:
Tiger by the tail - James Hadley Chase (That was my first paperback)

The Blue bed spread - Raj Kamal Jha (After reading it I learnt how NOT to write and that even shit gets published)

Tulasi (Telugu) - Yendamuri Veerendranath

Roots - Alex Haley (I discovered, through this book, how the white man is responsible for all the evil of this world)

Summer Moonshine - P.G. Wodehouse (my first Wodehouse)

I am tagging:
Vasu
Ferrari
Nanda
Kribs
Shalin

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The Ten Most Harmful Novels

Via Writing Fiction:

Love Story, by Erich Segal. This one took me only 45 minutes to read, and half a second to fling across the room. Its sentimentality addled the wits of a whole generation in the early 1970s.

:-)
And he sums it up well:

The bad novels give us at least this consolation: If those nincompoops could break into print, and even sell millions of copies, then we nincompoops ought to be able to do at least as well.

Check the list out.

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Quick Update

Was on a whirlwind trip to Chennai. I had no time/phone to call anyone or meet up with all my friends. So, forgive me guys. I was there to attend the wedding of a close friend and I returned the same day to Bangalore. Here's a quick update:

1) Ashok Cherian of Soundsuite has moved to Australia. Musicians in Chennai will miss him a lot. So long Ashok. Hope you'll find greener pastures Down Under. Rock on.

2) Bimal Nair, who heads Contract Advertising in Chennai, has not aged a bit. I had a wonderful time catching up with him and walking down the memory lane through the good old Tata Press Yellow Pages days; I was a sales man then. Bimal your agency does not have a great web presence. I couldn't find it on Google. I found only iContract's site that has a jarring Flash intro and it seems no one has bothered to update it in a while.

3) Harrison's hotel near the Sterling road signal wears a new trendy look!

4) Auto rickshaw guys are as ever robbing people in Chennai. Crying shame!

5) Do not take a private bus to Chennai. These guys are fraudsters and most of them do not possess permits to run them buses. Only exceptions I can think of is Sharma and KPN.

6) bLogout: Can all those that want to make it to the blogout but has not mailed me or Anita please do so immediately? Prabhu and Muthu are you listening? What's up with Bangalore bloggers? We have had a luke warm response. And I am being very optimistic. Come on you guys.
For more information on the place read the following links:
http://www.dreamroutes.org/dreams/nithin_honnemardu.html
http://www.anuragjain.com/travelhonnemardu.html
http://www.lonelywanderer.com/c289029.html
http://www.bmcindia.org/gallery/thumbnails.php?album=21

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