Wednesday, March 15, 2006

... what we've all been waiting for ...






IT'S FINALLY HERE!
(Okay, count till 5.)
(Update: Apparently, some of you can read a couple of words AND click on a link within 3 seconds!!! WOW.)
(Update: Yes, you will be redirected to another page. That's part of the plan.)






Monday, March 13, 2006

What next?

Sunday, March 05, 2006

100 is

the natural number following 99 and preceding 101.

the square of 10.

the basis of percentages.

the atomic number of fermium.

,in degrees Celcius, the boiling temperature of water at sea-level.

the number of years in a century.

binary for 4.

the number of tiles in a standard Scrabble set.

the police telephone number in India.

the number of posts this blog now officially contains.


Thursday, February 23, 2006

"Bored people, unless they sleep a lot, are cruel."

So said someone. But yeah, I'm going to take this someone's advice and sleep a lot. Because I'm bored. Really bored. Of blogging. Of people. Of life. Boy, do I have a LONG nap ahead of me!

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Have you jumped on the “band”wagon?

Disclaimer: I do not know Dr. Pissed. He is neither a sworn enemy nor am I his jilted lover. I only know him as a mere blogger, albeit very pissed off, whose blog I happened to chance upon. I am also not to be held responsible for grammatical errors in this post.

*STEPPING ON MY SOAP-BOX*

This post is a direct result of this post on Dr. Pissed’s blog. It’s regarding wristbands – the ones made famous by Make Poverty History, Livestrong etc. Dr. Pissed writes “Now, dont get me wrong. But I think all you dimwits out there who go and purchase the god damm band from a local shop or two are just fooling yourself into believing that you are cool. Sporting a genuine one also aint cool anymore.” He’s not alone in his opinion. Many people I know plus a couple of his readers also agree with him. Maybe some of you might also be inclined to agree with him after reading his post. But you guys are completely missing the point.

Dr. Pissed states “Cause its not supposed to fucking be cool. Its not supposed to have any other significance than to indicate to the world that you are genuinely concerned about the millions of people who die due to cancer every year and are trying your best in your little way to help fight it. And if any of you reading this can consciously say that you know more than 5 people who own a band and are really bothered about the whole thing and didnt actually purchase it cause it was such a craze, I'd like for them to go visit Curie Center of Oncology or Kidwai or something if they are in Bangalore and see how they can help. Else, tell them to tear it off their arms cause its defeating the purpose.

Here's a comment he makes in the comments-section – “My friend and I were totally trippin on this guy on the way back just a few days ago. He had a band on his hand and he was one of those cool buggers with lots of money and all and we kept asking him whats the deal with the band like we didnt know. He said he was wearing it cause he could hang his keychain on it. ***bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep***.



Does it really matter what the people wearing these bands think of the cause??? A statistic on the Make Poverty History website states that “In 2005 8 million people wore the white band.” Now, let’s assume each band costs US $1.00. (I’m aware that some organizations charge slightly different prices. But I like to make the math easy.) That works out to US $8 million! And that’s where lies the answer. It doesn’t matter what these people think about the cause. The important thing is that their money goes towards the cause. (And this number is for the white band alone!!!)

Who cares if those cool dudes buy the bands for hanging their key-chains? At least they're buying it. And guess who’s idea it is that you can use the band as a key-chain? I remember an ad I watched on one of these websites that showed different ways in which one could sport the band. And here’s what you’ll find at the Canadian Make Poverty History site:

Wearing the White Band in 2005 is about sending a message that you want to end poverty. And that you are part of a unique worldwide effort in 2005 to do just that. Wear it anyhow, anywhere. Just wear it:
  • Around your wrist or arm
  • As a hair band
  • Around your rear view mirror
  • Through the laces in your shoes
  • Around the straps of your handbag
  • As a lapel ribbon
  • On your key ring
  • Even on pet collars
Do you think that these organizations aren’t aware of the fact that most people who will buy these bands don’t really give two hoots about the cause? In fact, the bands ARE for those people. They're not for those people who actually help out at places like the Curie Center of Oncology. Those who really care about any of these causes are already in some way actively involved in them. These bands are for the rest of us who either don’t want to help out at such places, or are not in a position to help, or simply don’t care. This is a way to get us involved. Many times, the only way to get through some of our thick skulls and hard hearts is smart marketing and commercialization. Thus, in this case, spending that 1-dollar is our contribution towards the cause. We’ve all heard of the famous saying “Little drops of water make the ocean”. This scenario is no different. Every dollar counts.

I’m glad that wearing these bands is considered cool. And I hope it’s a fad that lasts long. I’m sure the organizations had hoped it became a fad too. Why else would they create bands? Why not something else? Bands are portable, can be worn both by males and females without looking “odd”, and can be easily showed-off! Bulls-eye. Three cheers to whoever came up with this brilliant idea. What’s more is that wearing these bands is like promoting the cause. So even if there’s a person wearing the band who doesn’t care, there is going to be someone who sees that band, will enquire about it and just might care. So to all these cool people wearing these cool bands, thanks for spreading the word!

So, why did I choose to write about this now, so late into the whole wristband faddism?
For one, I came across that post. And I thought to myself – Yes, this is just his opinion that is probably shared by some others too. I could just ignore it. But I realized that this opinion is not helping the cause. In wanting to tell off the people who don’t seem to genuinely care about the cause, popularizing this opinion is what will actually defeat the purpose. Because people are easily influenced. It’s not the cool people I’m worried about. They’re going to do what they please regardless of what you and I think. However, the un-cool people, which (let’s face it) is the majority, will start thinking twice. The cool people will go out and buy the band and wear it. The un-cool people may want to buy the band too but will begin to wonder, “I know people who think it’s lame that people just sport these bands without really caring about these causes. What if they think I’m lame too? How will they know if I support the cause or not?” And I don’t think it’s going to help the egos of these already un-cool people in any way to be thought of as even more lame. What happens if these people don’t go out and buy these bands? That’s millions of dollars towards the cause lost!
Secondly, I believe that there will be many more efforts like this in the future. When the band-fad fades, they’ll have to think of another product to catch the fancy of the public. This is why I wrote this post. For all the un-cool people who have become conscious by the negativity starting to surround these bands and similar products, I have just one thing to say – “Please buy the band and go hide it in the deepest, darkest corner of your room so nobody can find it. This way you help the cause and you won’t be considered lame by the people who might consider you lame.”

As for the issue of fake, duplicate bands, there’s nothing we can do about it. That's life. It’s sad that there are those who want to make money off the misery of others, but hey, that’s what newspapers do too! Anyway, we can’t just stop buying the bands. We must try to avoid buying the bands at questionable locations, and should either use the websites or stores designated by these organizations. Shame on those who make these fake bands. As for those of us who buy them – if we do so unknowingly, then it’s rather unfortunate, but if we do so knowingly, then shame on us too. (But then again, how many of us have not purchased pirated movie DVDs or downloaded music off the Net?!?)

I’m ending this post with a picture. I’m not sure if this person is a he or a she. So, forgive my blatant stereotyping, but I’m going to assume the person is a she because there are way too many wristbands worn for the person to be male.

I don’t know her reason for buying all those wristbands. Maybe they do look kinda cool on her wrists. What I do know is that she has bought at least 11 bands. That means she has contributed at least US $11.00 towards good causes.

And honestly, I think that’s very cool.

*STEPPING OFF MY SOAP-BOX*

Cupid rhymes with stupid

Warning: Not your usual valentine's-day post.

"I feel bad for people who die on Valentine's Day. How much would flowers cost then? Ten grand?
- Jay Leno (Comedian host of The Tonight Show, 200?)

"Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody."
- J.D. Salinger (Author of The Catcher in the Rye, 1945)

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Arun Shankar (21st December 1984 - 4th February 2006)


Dear Arun,
I don't know what to say anymore. I'm numb. You just turned 21. It's just not fair. I'm sorry I can't express my sorrow in the right words because I just don't get it anymore.
All I can say is that I love you, you crazy fool. And I'll miss your crazy p-j's and your funny cackle-like laughter and your silly crush on you-know-who and your calligraphy and... Yeah, I'm going to miss you, alright.
You might want to look up my dad. He's a fun guy to be with. You take care of each other up there, and I'll get in touch with your family ASAP.
Your friend when you needed her,
Me

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Birthday Bummed

UPDATE:

Alok replies - http://alokdamodarn.blogspot.com/

Preface


“If you’re famous, everything you say becomes a famous quote” – Me

“You know what my New Year’s resolution is? 1024 x 768.” – Shvetank

“You forgot my birthday.” – Alok

Stop. Rewind. Play.

“You forgot my birthday.” - Alok

Stop. Look at calender. 28th January, 2006.

*Huh? It’s just turned 28th. I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN!!!*

Slap myself on the forehead.

“Shit. I’m a fucking idiot.” – Me

Chapter 1

28th January is the birthday of one of my dearest, closest, most valuable friends. And I totally messed up. Of course, I didn’t forget his birthday. That’s impossible. What I forgot was the fucking time difference. Especially since he just moved to Malaysia last week. That’s 14 hours.

I wake on 28th morning and see a message on my cellphone. It reads, “I was waiting for the past 24 hours. You forgot my birthday. But hope you’re okay.” Because it is indeed true that since 7th grade (and that’s how long I’ve known him), I’ve been the first one to wish him on his birthday. At the stroke of midnight (usually), I call him up to wish him. He turned 21 yesterday. And what did I do? I fucking screwed up.

In my defense though, I didn’t have his phone number. He just moved to Malaysia. So I don’t think he has one yet. But I was planning on sending him an e-card, as much as I didn’t want to. I wanted to talk to him. Anyway, before I could even send him a card, or write him an email, I read this message first thing on 28th morning. And I’m upset. Majorly upset. Because I did screw up. And after I read the message, I didn’t feel like sending him that card anymore. I had to do something more to make up. So, I’m doing what I believe I do best when I feel like an idiot. I write.

Chapter 2

Alok was probably my first indication to me that I swing the heterosexual way. Not that I knew any better at that age. But I knew I was smitten. He was the cutest, cuddliest thing I’d ever seen. And if my description of him sounds like I may be talking about a teddy bear, it’s because I am. He’s as adorable as a teddy bear. I spent all of grade 7 being delighted by the fact that I was good friends with the cutest guy ever.

In grade 8, I’d confessed to two of my friends, M and S that I thought Alok was cute. M and S being guys, and stupid, went and told Alok. Then, they came and told me that they told him. I immediately began to cry. “Now Alok’s never going to talk to me”, I think to myself. “He’ll avoid me, and ignore me”. A few minutes later, Alok’s at my desk. I’m horrified now. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. I don’t mind.” That’s what he said, or something to that effect. I was wailing, so I can’t be sure. But I couldn’t have been more relieved. First of all, he was talking to me. And secondly, there is no secondly. Who cares about anything else? He was talking to me! TALKING! Woohoo! And for some weird reason, we became the best of friends since then. I think it was because of the way he came to console me. At that age, boys are at their stupidest, to say the least. Look at what M and S did! But the way Alok knelt down next to me and smiled at me reassuringly, I was really impressed. Of course, I was. It took me about a year to get over the fact that he’d never like me in “that” way. But it was only in the coming years that I would realize what I had gained instead.

Grade 11. We were rudely separated by education. I chose Science and he chose Commerce. What was even ruder though was the way I ignored him. I’d been elected as Head Girl. I had new classmates, a new set of friends. In all the hullabaloo, I completely ignored Alok. In short, I became a bitch. But he didn’t stop caring.

It’s only after we’ve gone our ways after school that I’ve realized how much he truly means to me. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say. You bet it does. I miss him to death. He is only guy whom I can walk down the darkest alley with and feel absolutely safe. Because nothing scares him. Or at least, he does a damn good job of pretending nothing does. He’s been through hell in his life. From crazy fathers of crazy girlfriends threatening him to being mugged and beaten up on the streets by crazy street thugs, he’s been through it all. I think he’s seen all objects that can be used as a weapon far more closely than most people our age have. And it’s not that he’s gotten himself into these situations. Somehow, they find him. It’s like he’s always at the wrong place at the wrong time. But he says it’s all made him stronger. He could have just quit when things were going wrong. But he always stuck it out. And I admire him for that.

I’ve always admired him for his guts. I remember back in school, he was always the rebel student. In grade 7, our Science teacher, Mr. Kaul, beat up one of his friends such that his nose started bleeding. Alok walked right out of class with his friend and to the Vice Principal to complain against the teacher. In grade 9, we had this crazy Math teacher, Mr. Joseph, who loved to hit students with a ruler. He broke many a ruler doing that. Once he chose Alok to be his victim. As Mr. Joseph brought the ruler down to hit him, Alok put his hand out and caught hold of the ruler and said, “Don’t you dare. My own dad has never raised his hand on me. I’m not going to let you.” I remember that incident to this day. Because I remember thinking, “Daaaaymn!!! What a guy!” Sigh.

What more can I say? Alok's been a crush, a friend, a bodyguard. But above all, he's been part of the best days of my life. And I couldn't ask for anything more.

Epilogue

Writing this post has flood my head with so many beautiful memories that I think I’m going to cry. Alok, saying that you’ve been a great friend would be a gross understatement. You have always been there for me. Always. I can be sure that I will never find friends like you in my life. And maybe that’s why I’ve stopped looking for new friends. Because with a friend like you, who needs more? You’ve been a true friend in every respect of the word. And I’m sorry. I honestly did not forget your birthday. In fact, when you called me last week, before you left for Malaysia, that’s why I kept on telling you to give me your number. Because I wanted to call you and wish you just like always. It’s bad enough that I couldn’t do that, and I go ahead and mess it up big time. Happy 21st birthday, dear. I wish I were there with you, so we could have fun in “the land of rats”. Eww. I love you and I miss you. And I want you to know that I can never ever forget your birthday. Not in a million years. And I know you believe me when I say that. Anyway, I’m glad I didn’t, because I got to dedicate this post to you and I think it says much more than any e-card in the world would have. I hope that fate is done screwing you over and from now on brings you only happiness and good luck. Because it’s about time you got your share of good fortune. Muah.

P.S. – Give me your number if you’ve got one.
P.P.S. – Call me if you don’t have one.