"I am not perfect. But I know what perfection is"

Behind one another

My fellow Indians continue to amuse me. By every small thing they do. By their never ending enthusiam to compete; to fight; To fight for their right. To fight for that 10C seat that has been reserved for them in the Chennai - Bangalore flight.

People were up and at the gate even before the gate was open for boarding. Some, as though all they needed was a spark to lead, joined the line. And before long, the line was menacingly long. Soon a sense of hurry spread amongst the remaining. Who wants to be left out, eh? In a jiffy, all that was left in seats was I with a few despirited folks. Talk about pressure and this is it. The longer the line, the pressure piles up.

Just seeing so many people before one makes them forget the fact that they actually can think; That they do not have to worry about their seat; That there are people to take care of their baggages.

Reason? Beats me. But I wonder if those privileged men were surprised to see me landing in Bangalore at the same time. Well, I agree this has given me a topic to write about. However, the sight of people in line makes me sick. I see them every day everywhere. From morning till I return back home. The mini line before boarding my daily cab to office, the line to buy lunch coupon, at the food counter, at the water pot. Geez, where do we get so many people from!

Here is an interesting and funny way to look at this. This is from a column that the great writer Late. R.K. Narayanan wrote.

--------------------------
The future historian will in all probability say, 'There are ample signs that people everywhere stood behind one another for hours and hours and the file stretched away for miles. Why they did it we will never understand, particularly as there seemed to have been plenty of space all around where they could have spread out. They seemed to have learnt that style from ants. The one behind took exactly the same number of steps as the one ahead, and if he stopped the other stopped. Why they did it we can never understand as we have no means of judging the inner stresses of those times. All that we are able to gather is that if a man's longevity was twenty-seven years, he spent a total of twenty years standing in various queues, at bus-stands, railway stations, ration depots, cloth-shops, cinema houses and every kind of public place. Considering the time spent this way it is surprising how they managed to find the time to carry on their normal domestic or economic activities.'

--------------------------

Personally CCed

I am a software engineer and like others I receive hundreds of e-mails a week. I know it's not difficult to understand how close these modern software professionals are with electronic mails. There are many kinds of e-mails that you see every day like spam, forwarded mails, please-forward-to-all-you-know mails, account statements, personal mail etc. However, today's focus will be on one kind that never failed to put me off. The one that makes a mockery of human-feelings. The mail that personally invites you to a wedding. The mail that, without fail, says 'treat this as my personal invitation'.

Are you seeing what I am about to talk about? Good. Well, I have been seeing these for the past several years and perhaps I should have been got used to it. But I have not. Instead it annoys me every time. In India, for most of the (unlucky) people, marriage is a once-in-lifetime occasion and traditionally the idea has been inviting everyone that the bride and groom's family know. In other words, the bigger the gatherings, more the blessings. And hence, it has been the pleasure of the bride/groom to invite people. Alas! These days, we have no time for such thoughts, let alone practicing it.

I am bewildered. What is it about sending an email to hundreds of contacts in your address book and put them all in CC or BCC list. There you go! Hundred invisible people invited in 5 minutes. Now the question is not how busy one is to personally meeting everyone and inviting. The real question is how much you want their presence. One can argue that he/she remembered you and that's why you are copied on that e-mail. But I don't buy that. I can counter that an e-mail wish or an online greeting card can definitely substitute my personal wishes. Can't it? Because, it is easier for me to do that than presenting myself at the wedding.

Having said that, one can argue that in the modern world, one gets so little time for oneself. Where is the time for all these touchy-feely things? Whatever little you have, you spare them for your family and beloved!

But this sums up the current situation. Time has changed. Traditions are being let go. But do you really think e-mails can go as far as human feelings and respect? If you are saying 'no', I see your point.

Note: CC - Carbon Copy, BCC - Blind Carbon Copy

Hongkong on a rainy day

A couple of photos from my HongKong trip. I have these on 360.yahoo.com as well. However, I am not satisfied as they shrunk the photos.

My tryst with dream

I am not a dreamer. No, I am not meaning that I do not have wishes that sound like dreams. I have plenty of them. I mean, I do not dream when I sleep. Sometimes when I am awfully sick, I get what one might call nightmares. Like someone abducts me, puts me in a small box with my hands and ankles tied. I am bathing in sweat inside the air-tight box and could barely emit any audible sound, let alone screaming for help.

I almost always had dreamy nights as a small boy. A couple of them, which repeatedly filled my nights. The first one offered me wings, which when flapped will make me airborne. Interestingly the wings needed some take-off run. I never figured why. But I never had time to think as someone was always behind my life. And the other dream always gave me money (only coins) whenever and wherever I dug the ground.

A lot has been said about dreams as to why they come and what they mean. In my opinion, dreams reflect one's state of mind when he/she is not sleeping. Or may the dreamer's recent thoughts. That's probably why I found only coins and not currency bills. A small boy needed only little money to buy things that he needed. Hence, coins would suffice. A newer version of that dream would definitely bring a blank cheque written on my name when I dug open the ground.

I am tempted to say that dreams one get might have something to do with how interesting a person is. This statement, unfortunately puts me in the most-boring category. I am afraid that all the years I spent at school studying science has probably taken away my imagination. I seek reason in everything that happen around me. Even in things as subtle and natural as why a girl is possessive. Well, when this happens, you know something is clearly wrong. In my case, I lost my imaginative sense. It must have been a smooth transition. Because I do not remember when this really happened or started to happen. In any case, my dreams as though to punish me for this gave up on me.

As I take time and give it a serious thought, things appear to be clearer. It's I, who deserted my dreams. It's I, who decided not to dream; who wanted to be a so-called rational man; who thought dreams are not for a man who has confidence in himself; who thought dreaming was child's act.

What happened today is pleasing. I dreamed. Yes, you heard me right. I dreamed for real (!) during my Sunday afternoon siesta. It's like being born once again.

The dream is about a special space ship that promises to take me from a foreign land to my country on a small boy's recommendation. I am offered a ventilated room in the layered space ship. They warn me about the danger of being tossed about in air; of being torn apart by the fiercesome air in and out through the openings. Nevertheless, I accept the offer and we take off. The vehicle was too fast, even for a dream. It was fast and period. In a jiffy, we land. During the flight, I had lost everything in the turbulence that took place in my cabin, except my clothes I had on me. I check my new sneakers. They are alright and I am happy they are. I ask about our whereabouts. "Hold your breath - we are in Africa.", comes the reply.

And that's where I woke up and the dream ended. I badly wanted this one to go on. But you know, you are only as lucky as the dreams want you to be. Things work in a different way here. You are nothing but a puppet here. You can't control things as you do in real life. That's dream for you.

Meanwhile, I am hoping that my second stint with dreams will continue. Hope - well that's all I can do and that's about how much control I have over them.

And you think I am rude?

A conversation between Jack Nicholson (plays the role of a famous writer) and a front desk girl in the movie 'As good as it gets'.

Girl: "How do you write women so well?"
Jack: "Well, I think of a man, then I take away reason and accountability"

Now, that will make any woman furious, won't it? ;)