The four-eyed one loses two

I am back to Blogs after a week`s medical layoff. I had vision correction surgery on the 1st of October, and as per the doctor`s advice, decided to give my eyes a much needed rest, before exposing them to the harsh world of computers. This last week, has been torturous. No TV, No Reading, No outings and worst of all, No Blogging. Cooped up at home, all I did was follow a fellow blogger`s advice, and eat, eat and eat, since there was nothing else to do.

Well, the surgery in itself went off quite well. It is what comes after that is slightly hard. Those accursed drops that make your eyes sting, literally make you cry. The worst part was that I have to fight this insane urge to rub them, since that could be detrimental. You are supposed to guard them against water too, and that meant no head bath. As my close friends would tell you, I have this obsession of washing my face umpteen number of times a day. That had to be put on hold. The black goggles that I was supposed to wear, whenever I went out of the house, was the final straw. My friends in a vain effort to comfort me told me I looked like Will Smith from MIB. The fact that they wanted to console me, dissuaded me from telling them that I actually looked like the character from (MIB - MI = B). Those glasses, very successfully managed to do what I was hoping I wouldn`t need to do. Stay at home!!

The results, nevertheless, have been nothing short of spectacular. Within a day of the surgery, I could read all five letters in the last line of the chart, pinned in the doc`s cabin; a feat which even my dad with normal vision, couldn`t accomplish. I tried on my old pair of glasses just for fun, and realized just how improved my vision was, post-surgery. The true indication of how totally non-dependant I was on glasses, came when I promptly went and lost them.

I am still getting used to life without glasses. Many times, my hand automatically touches the bridge of my nose, in an attempt to stabilise my non-existent, imaginary glasses, and I immediately realise how foolish I must look doing that. Need to kick that habit. Or, I wake up in the morning and find myself scrambling for my glasses, and on opening my eyes realize I don`t need them anymore. All these are things that I have to learn to avoid.

Well, that was my tryst with LASIK. Apart from the drops which I have to use till the next week, there is no major trouble. But, as per my earlier post, I am still donning the zero-index glass for the most part of the day. My friends have asked me to upload my pic sans glasses, and i finally feel comfortable enough to comply, since I am slowly getting used to my new look. I would like to thank all of you for your wishes, which I made my friend read out to me, over the phone, while I was recuperating. My new avataar, unfortunately hasn`t changed my blogging habits, and you`ll still have to put up with my crazy blogs, which I keep unleashing on bloggers from time to time. Need to catch up on a lot of pending work now. So, till the next time, ciao.
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Chashmebaddoor always uncool????

I absolutely hate the BSNL commercial which has Deepika Padukone going, "Mera Dost Rahul..Uski life to bilkul non-happening hai". Now, I have nothing against Ms.Padukone or Rahul. The problem I have is something which has roots which are much deeper than just being affected by an ad. The ad-makers who thought of the whole concept are the ones who are at the receiving end of my ire. Why does the "non-happening" Rahul, have to lose his glasses, just to be considered cool? Does a BSNL 3g phone, come with a free pair of contacts or bear the expenses of vision corrective surgery? No....then why, for God`s sake, the insinuation? I find this mindless generalization, simply brainless.

I have never given this issue a lot of thought . For me, attitude is a mindset, and there is nothing you can do, if your appearance goes against the grain. I have had people making my acquaintance, say "you are a lot different from what I expected". Translated, after studying the expression and the context under which it is said, it reads, "Your glasses definitely don`t make you look as if you are made for intelligible speech". What can people do if circumstances render them, incapable of opting for contact lens, or find the surgery alternative just too expensive, considering the insurance policy that companies have, when it comes to this kind of procedure?

This whole situation, has its pros too. When I really do not want to be chummy with a person, I have found a novel way of keeping the person at bay. All I have to do, is make sure that I fit people`s perception of what a person with glasses acts like. Thanks to our amazing commercials, I am seldom short of acting tips.

I am going for vision correction surgery tomorrow. I have to go for it since, the kind of myopia that afflicts me, gets progressively worse, the longer I delay the procedure. I have however, insisted that even with a 6/6 vision, which I am expected to regain after the procedure, I will still continue to don zero-index spectacles. When you have been wearing them since childhood, like me, they become a part of you and grow on you. For me, the expression on the faces of people when they hear what should be a nerd, say something normal, is priceless.

P.S: Will be away from blogs till Tuesday; that is the hardest thing. No blogs, no books, no outings, no TV, till then. Sigh! Hope I don`t lose my mind. So, till my reappearance in a new avataar, this is me signing off on a hopeful note. Wish me luck.
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Rain, rain go away..

It rained with a vengeance yesterday, and Bangalore came to a grinding halt. Road rage reached a dangerous high and people perspired in bucketfuls. The road near silk board was an extension of Madiwala lake, and would have given a healthy complex to any swimming pool in Bangalore. Given the situation, it will not be long before more kids like Vijay are swept away. Our civic authorities will make the right noises, offer peanuts as compensation, which is anyway a lot cheaper than repairing the sorry state of our drainage system, and wait for a thankfully short public memory to achieve the rest.

Coming to yesterday`s episode, it was a nightmare for me and the others in the bus. Roads, inundated with water, irate motorists honking madly, incessant rains that wouldn`t allow the windows to be opened, the collective tempers of the passengers, leading to an increase in temperature of an already sweltering bus, sweat gathering on the brow, being wiped repeatedly; If there is hell on earth, this was it. The fate of pedestrians, wading through waist-deep water, was not only pitiable, but also had dangerous implications. The sight of three kids, with bags on their heads,being tossed around by the swirling water currents, made me really nervous. I hope they made it back home safely. Inside the bus, frayed tempers led to people blaming the powers-that-be, for making them spend long hours in office. Some people started to sing to relieve boredom. If things were not so bad outside, this would have been really funny.

When nature strikes, the humane aspect of the species manifests itself. Yesterday, was no different. There was a guy, helping an old lady cross the road. Pedestrians, were seen assisting the traffic cops, who had their plates full, directing traffic, new friendships were forged inside the bus, as the music blaring on the walkman jarred people`s nerves, and they yearned for human company. As a result of this, when I finally did reach home, my countenance wasn`t as demonic as it usually is, when I have to go through such an ordeal. I had seen the havoc that rains caused in Mumbai on TV, and never thought I would actually get to face it. The rains yesterday, proved that our infrastructure is as good as Mumbai`s, when it comes to letting its citizens have a very intimate date with the rains.

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No Child`s Play..This

After consultations with our resident Transformers expert Rindo, I finally set out on my quest to buy something suitable for my nephew who will be 5 on saturday. As soon as I set foot in the section, I immediately realized how hard being a kid these days is. There were so many gadgets and gizmos on display, that I was slightly staggered and had to hold on to Optimus Prime for support. Sigh, we were so lucky in our childhood, with the limited options we had when it came to playthings.

Lengthy discussions with the shop assistant regarding the decision-making process came to nought, as the guy was hell bent on bringing me to the BATEOM(Broke at the end of the month) stage in the first week of the month. Very slowly I edged away from my would-be-swindler and started the arduous task of navigating the quagmire of transformers. I had all but given up my hopeless task and was on my way back to my tormentor to help me yet again, when I saw a Kid of about 8 or 9, very studiously studying the models on display. Gingerly, I made my way towards the precocious, bespectacled younger version of me. Very casually, so as to not betray my complete ignorance I asked him, "Found anything you like?". The look he gave me as he very slowly studied me through his glasses, was one of disdain laced with pity, which told me that I hadn`t had him fooled for a single minute. What followed next, was 15 minutes of master class on Transformers and what to expect from each of the mind-boggling array of gadgets on the shelf. As he droned on, I felt our roles had reversed. When it came to the gadgets, I was a 5-year old, while he was a geriatric member of the tribe.

After a whirlwind guided tour of the section,I had zeroed in on what I would buy for my nephew. Amazon.com predicts that it`ll be the hottest selling X-mas gift this season, and i can see why. I, will personally make sure the prediction becomes a reality, since I am going to pick one for myself this weekend. Wanna know, what I picked? Scroll Down.
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Voice-Modulation Helmet that allows you to speak in a Optimus Prime-like Robotic Drone.
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The summer of '99 - a trip down memory lane

News of a re-union of the batch of 1999 of CVM, first reached me about a couple of months back, when I got a friend request from Babitha, on Orkut. I was pleasantly surprised since I had thought, my ties with Tumkur were snapped. Thanks Orkut, for shrinking the planet, and proving me wrong. Well, that`s how it started. The plan had to be postponed though, due to the tragic demise of our dear friend, Suvijith, whose presence would have meant so much to us. May his soul find eternal peace.

Coming back to the occasion itself, It`ll be dereliction of duties of the highest order, if I fail to acknowledge the efforts put in by certain people, who worked tirelessly to make this whole thing possible. So, thanks to Babitha, Anil SP, Abhishek, Ravikiran, Vasistha and Vidyashankar. You guys just rock. Please blame any omissions here, on my poor and dwindling memory powers.

Lots of places were discussed for the venue of the meet-up. Some of them were Namada Chilume(hope I got the name right), Innovative filmcity, Holiday village resort. Considering the fact that most of the folks were based in Bangalore, and the main prority was to catch up on
old times, the last option was chosen, and considering how well this whole thing was planned, it was hardly surprising that the choice of place was extremely suitable for the occasion. 25th of July was the date decided for the meet-up . The night before the D-day was a sleepless one for me, because of the excitement of meeting some of my old friends. "Old is gold" they say, and they are SO RIGHT.

Inspite of all the excitement, I was nervous as well. I had left Tumkur immediately after my 10th standard, and the rest of them had been together well until their PU, and some until their engineering days. I was unsure about how our first meeting in a long time would go. Would we be ultra-formal and make this like a board meeting? Would we form our own small group and ignore the rest? These were worries, which were gnawing at my brain. My fears were immediately laid to rest as soon as I met the group. It was as if we hadn`t left CVM at all. The camaraderie that the group displayed was awesome and set the tone for the rest of the day. Such was the general bonhomie around that even the shy ones came out of their shells and started talking after a while.

The highlight of the day for me, was the informal intro-cum-ragging session we had, in which all of us got our legs pulled, and asked some really crazy questions. I haven`t laughed so much in ages, and even as I type this, I am gently massaging my sides, which hurt BIG TIME.

One thing I realized after the meet-up was that all of the old students of CVM are doing well for themselves in life. What really gladdened my heart though,is the fact that most of them are doing some real good social work too, and this was revealed at the meet. Just goes to show that GEN-X has its heart in the right place. Great going, guys.

Coming to the attendees (I`ll rack my brains very hard to not miss anyone. In case, I do, please excuse and let me know), here goes the list with a brief description of each -

1)Abhishek(who`s just the same, quite and unassuming. Smiles a lot and makes everyone extremely comfortable).
2)Adithi(who, if my memory serves me right, used to talk non-stop in school, but prefers to listen and smile these days).
3)Babitha(the lady with the mission to plan the next re-union on a larger scale).
4)Deepthi(Who is a lecturer now, and behaves like one. God help the students who bunk her class).
5)Vasistha(Who is in Infy with me, which I realized just three days ago. Giggles at everything, and is a pleasure to be with).
6)Rahul Chadha(Who`s lost oodles of weight and is well on the way to a six-pack, which I will not get in this birth. Just love his Kannada accent.."shivne").
7)Karthik(who has a real sense of humour and kept us in splits, the whole time).
8)Anand(Karthik`s partner in making us cry with humour. Sang "chura liya hai tumne.." beautifully).
9)Hemant(Who says his "Anna is Adda", when it comes to his plans to get married).
10)Ravikiran(the man has a brain for planning. Nandan Nilekani,my hero,could do with your help, maga).
11)Pradeep(who`s in the merchant navy now, and has already circumnavigated the globe twice. How cool is that!Wow!).
12)Vidya(Whose cycle is still the craze amongst the boys).
13)Supritha(whose Teddy-bear bag was a topic of discussion, which she still has, but rarely is seen with, in public).
14)Sandhya(who has a heavenly voice, and according to me, should consider singing professionally. Her rendition of "Dasana.."mesmerised us).
15)Chaithra KR(Who as I remember, was shy around guys and matched my shyness around girls. She has changed Big-time, though and was a joy to talk to).
16)Lakshmi Bhat(my Konkani classmate, who has again changed from a quiet girl to a Tom-boy).
17)Manjith(who owns a swanky SLR camera. Talks less and clicks more).
18)Anil SP(who still blushes around girls and talks about plastic when asked to speak about developments on the personal front),
19)Chandan(who hasn`t changed much, except for a toothbrush moustache).
20)Narendra(a "sakkath bindaas huduga", who believes all the "daddrus" were in 'A' section. With a quick wit like that, I don`t believe a word of that, dude!).
21)Vishwas(Who was extremely reluctant to introduce himself, and was introduced by Narendra, with hilarious effects).
22)Vidyashankar(who makes you laugh, with a poker-straight face).
23)Chethan(who again, was the epitome of silence, preferring to be the silent listener to all our chatter).

There was the trio of doctors-
24)Dr.Rohith(The best boy in the class, and believe me, still is one. My parents forever compare me against him, and no surprise, I always lose).
25)Dr.Sanjay Raj(Most believe he is a "decent" boy, which he thinks is a "moodha-nambike". Quiet quite, which again most say, is because if he opens his mouth, his "decency" will be exposed).
26)Dr.Nabeel(Who again is a real cool Doc, and went out of his way to get everyone to talk).

and me, Ashok(who believes in boring people by writing Big blogs - like this ONE here. Still single(and happy), because I learnt to talk to girls in the second year of engineering, by which time, all of them had big, beefy boy-friends, who glared at you, if you just looked at
them,forget approaching them.)

after lunch, we played a quick game of cricket, which brought me to the sad realization that my cricket playing days were long behind me. Me, who used to pride himself on his fast bowling skills in school. So out-of-touch am I, that I couldn`t even catch a ball on the first bounce!
Sigh!. The athletic side of me, (if ever there was one), died in school.

When it was time to leave,none of us wanted to rise, since that was how much we enjoyed ourselves. But, all good things have to come to an end, and so did this one. But not before a decision was taken, on the next re-union, for which we expect a better response(come on! We can do better than 27). There were talks of having one on the 15th of August of every year(decision yet to be finalised). One thing that was discussed and pretty much finalised, was the creation of a group, which could be used as a common forum for all of us to interact. Details
could be out shortly, and I request all of you to join, and invite others of our batch to join.

The re-union was brought to a reluctant conclusion thereafter, with people delaying their departure till the last possible minute. Eventually, the group dispersed in ones and twos, but not before promising to meet again, in a larger gathering. That brough to an end, the
happiest day of my life, in a long, long time. Until, MORE OF US meet again, God bless! Ciao!

P.S : If you have faithfully reached the end of my blog here, your reward lies below. Memories caught on camera -


How many can you identify?


The ladies having fun!


Boys of '99 to men of '09


Let`s get some grub!


chat and eat.Time is so limited!


Catching up on old times


So, how`s life treating you,mate?


Sharing a sweet memory.


The kings of good times.


You shoot me. I shoot you.


Feel my muscles,dude! In the sporting arena


One for the ages! One of my absolute favs!
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Ek "dirty" si gym story..

I had a near-death experience in the gym yesterday. No, it did not involve me falling off a machine and hitting my head on the floor, as most of you might assume. The attempt on my life was a very subtle one, one that would have defied forensic experts completely, one that would leave absolutely no evidence behind. Yet it was a terrifying experience, and one that very nearly achieved its sadistic goal, that of sending me to my grave, prematurely.

I was on the treadmill, running away to glory, in a vain attempt to get rid of the extra pounds that have been strangely attached to me ever since I was a young boy, acting as a disposal bin for my granny`s ghee-rich cooking. As I reached the 14th minute, gasping, my lungs fit to burst, I was desperate for a deep breath. I was about to inhale, when my breath caught somewhere in the region between my nasal passage and my lungs, and that ladies and gentlemen, was the precise moment, when I knew I was in danger.

I looked at my would-be-assassin, on the next treadmill, trying to kill me with his scent, emanating from the socks that he was wearing, which were probably last washed, in 1947, and were largely responsible for the English leaving India. The smell was so repugnant, that a skunk would have been put to shame. Each time he took a step, a new wave of anti-deodorant air would rush in my direction. A few seconds of this and I started to see stars in my head, owing to an acute lack of oxygen in my brain. Forsaking the cooling down routine, I jumped off a running treadmill and rushed for the door, drawing air hungrily, and thanking my lucky stars, that I was safe enough to tell you guys about my ordeal. The only good thing that did come out of this experience was that my temporary hiatus from because of a real bad spell of blogger`s block came to an abrupt end, and here I am again, woefully recounting my rendezvous with my maker.
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The ragger-raggee chemistry

"Ragging" - that`s a word that fills the heart of every freshman joining a new college with dread. The fearsome uncertainty of the act, drilled into you by the legions of friends and relatives who had already been through the rite of passage, is enough to unnerve even the bravest of the lot. I was no exception to the rule, and had already begun imagining what I would need to face as part of the college ritual, even before my CET results were out. My concerns were exacerbated, when I got admission into RVCE, since I had a first-person account from my cousin, of what ragging in RV entailed, and it didn`t make for a pleasant discussion. So, it was with a sense of trepidation, that I boarded the bus on my very first day to college.

The bus was jam-packed, with all the seniors occupying the seats at the back, and lounging there like royalty. The first few seats were occupied by a bunch of cowering freshies like myself, who had deluded themselves into believing that maintaining a physical distance was enough to gain them amnesty from what would soon follow. Boy, how wrong they turned out to be!! But, you can`t blame them for trying! Me, I had no such refuge to turn to, since all the front seats had been taken, with five terrified freshers to each seat, and imposing my considerable bulk there, would have meant being alienated from my fellow sufferers, in the long run. So, I decided to occupy the only seat that had been left, strangely vacant, towards the back, fully aware of the fact that it was a bait. The way I approached the seat, anyone watching would have thought, that I was being led to the guillotine! I gingerly occupied the seat, that felt more like an electric chair, and seeing the beatific smiles bestowed on me, only increased my misgivings at having taken a decision, that I knew, I would rue for the rest of the semester.

No sooner had the bus started, that I heard my name being called. YESSIR, I was addressed by the name, that I thought only I knew in the bus. I tried to pretend that it was someone else being called, but when someone taps you on the shoulder while calling out, you know that trick ain`t gonna work no more. Turns out that my pathetic excuse for a cousin had already told the entire crop of goons at the back, about my impending arrival on the bus. This bit of information was revealed to me, by a guy, who looked every inch the quintessential ragger(Is that the word?), specifically created by God to do nothing else but rag, and who I now count amongst my best friends. This might sound absurd to you, but at that moment, quite inexplicably, I felt pride intermingle, with the overwhelming emotion, fear. Pride at the fact that a fourth-year knew me, a lowly first-year by name.

College legend has it, that the raggee who has faced the worst ragging turns out to be the best ragger. Well, let us just say that my ragger, was passing on the baton, that he had inherited from his seniors to me. What followed was pure mayhem! After my session, which didn`t turn out to be all that bad, maybe because I was giggling non-stop at most of the things I was told to do ( sample this, they asked me to use my drafter as a gun, to hijack the bus), I was given the task of informing my fellow first-years, when it was their turn. All in all, it didn`t turn out to be as bad as I thought it would be. Indeed, at the ice-breaker party at the end of the semester, I was chosen as the most sporting fresher. What an honour!

In the days that followed, we were asked to do a lot of other things, some of which cannot be printed here. Some of it, like proposing to the most beautiful female senior student, was something WE juniors (notice the stress on WE), all looked forward to, even though, as protocol dictated, we all tried to look suitably bashful as we did so. All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed our stint at being ragged, and ended up being best friends with the guys, who I thought I would never, ever like.

Ragging, at times can get really dirty, and the government is justified in making it punishable by law, in such cases. But, I believe that punishing the kind of ragging that we were subject to, which was nothing more than tomfoolery, is definitely over-reacting.

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Time, does stop here.

One place in Bangalore where time really does stand still is the 'India Coffee House' on MG Road. From the peeling paint on the walls, the strictly no-frills interior and the waiters in their traditional attire, most of who have been with the joint since it`s inception, it is impossible not to feel like you are in a time-warp here.

Last weekend I and a friend, found ourselves on MG Road at around 4 in the afternoon, on one of my regular trips to Blossoms, where quite surprisingly, I was not able to find this book called 'Bone Man Of Benares' by Terry Tarnoff, that I so badly want to read. In case you have any pointers on where I can get this book, let me know ( Already enquired in bookworm and all the major book stalls).

Coming back to the subject, we were famished, and 4`o clock being too late for lunch, we decided to get a quick bite at the coffee house. The place was teeming with people and the buzz of conversation was thick in the air. Before I proceed, let me tell you what the 'India Coffee House' is not. It is not one of those places where you bring a date along, unless you want to break up in double quick time. It is also not one of those places where you expect the waiter to be servile to the point of looking like your personal Djinn. That said, while you are there, it is a nice place to see the world go by, from the giant windows that overlook MG Road.

We found a table after a short wait, which we had to share with a businessman, and his brat of a son, who kept sprinkling salt all over the place, while the father, who ensured that only one half of my posterior got to touch the seat, looked on dotingly. We ordered a Masala Dosa and an Omelette; not that there is much choice anyway. When it finally did arrive, my recently health-conscious soul, balked and did a double-take, to see the Masala Dosa, drowning in oil. Mr. Businessman, who apparently had no such qualms, was busy digging into MD No.2, which meant that one half of my rear, would continue to be in limbo for some more time, while sonny, having got bored of the sprinkling act, was looking for more devilish acts in which to engage himself, one of which involved kicking me repeatedly under the table, something which did not stop, until I decided to return the favour, with interest. My omelette-eating friend, had no such problems however, since guilt pangs don`t strike a person, who has by his own admission, no hopes of ever losing weight, by the traditional, strict diet-rigorous exercise routine.

After labouring through my Dosa, literally, by separating the potato in the Bhaji, and trying to get as much of the oil into the tissue, rather than into my tummy, we finally decided to order some coffee. Thankfully, by that time, our co-diners had made their way, out of the hotel, having savoured everything that the eatery had to offer. The coffee, which arrived piping hot, was absolutely out-of-this world. After the harrowing experience, I had just had with Satan and his imp, I was numb with exhaustion, and the coffee revived me no end. Go there, if only for the coffee, is my advice.

After the largely satisfying experience, it was with a sense of utmost reluctance that my friend and me, stepped into the present. Next time, if you happen to be in the area, do drop in to this place, if only to experience life, as it must have been in more un-hurried times.
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