It was not until I moved to Pune did I realise that it’s not only Bangalore’s junta that has a pathetic traffic sense. First day in Pune and it was easy to figure out that when it comes to roads, there’s worse in store for me to experience. I wonder if the term “rat race” was coined by one of the commuters from these streets. Vehicles overtaking from all sides, ready to trample you any moment if you do not obligate. Crossings are a nightmare. Assuming that this blog will never be read by my manager; when I say I get late to office almost everyday due to that one crossing that’s en route, you know that this time I am not faking.
Well, what I really want to highlight, is a concern more grave than this. Something which has spread and persists like an epidemic in almost all parts of our country. And that ladies and gentlemen, is our heritage- the inherent habit of “Honk At Will” (HAW). There is nothing that I hate so much than the exercise of excessive honking. We all talk about air pollution, water pollution...but nobody gives a shit about noise pollution which is so rampant all over; HAW being the major source.
Rationale and my experience on the streets lead me to few reasons why we Indians love to HAW. One reason is that it gives a feeling of superiority to many if the rider in front of you has to change his track due to the shrill thing that just emanated from your vehicle. They momentarily become the Kings of Their Kingdom. In other peculiar cases, I see a chap honks just because he wants to. Probably due to the utopia he is in, for whatever reasons. Then there are these pedestrians who never like to walk on their designated lanes. They cross the roads irrespective of the state of the traffic light. Worse is that they leave their life at your mercy, somehow sure that you are not gonna bang them. You keep honking, and they keep crossing with their heads turned away from you. Then there is always the bad road sense among riders that I have already spoken of earlier.
I dream of the day when all streets in India, amidst all the crowd will be sans HAW. There are a few ideas I have which if implemented may lead us to achieve this dream(no matter how surreal it may sound). We must make people cognizant of the ill effects of honking. The sad part is that most of us educated folks do not care. We too follow the herd mentality. Just like we have posters all over, “Speed Thrills, But Kills!”; putting ‘abundant’ posters related to awareness about noise pollution could help in this endeavour. We can reach the masses through blogs, posts in the newspaper, mags, television, etc. Unless we all start talking about it, things will remain as they are now. We must educate people that apart from affecting their senses, excessive honking takes a toll on the rider’s pocket too. More honking=more energy consumption from the battery=frequent change of battery=loss of money.
Folks wondering what the title of this write-up has got to do with its content; let me explain. The phrase “Horn OK Please” is predominantly seen painted on trucks in India, seemingly, encouraging us to honk more and more. With awareness of such kinds, its not surprising that we all love to HAW. For actual details, check this.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Thursday, April 1, 2010
The Agony Of Being a Koirala
Foreword: “Dad, this one’s not against you”
Shakespeare very famously said and I quote, "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."
Our contemporary hero when proudly stated, “I am Bond, James Bond”, swooned the very sanity of all ladies around the globe, and they all fell for it. The actor has changed over the years, but the name has prevailed. If James Bond and Shakespeare were to get into a debate, James Bond would easily gain ground with the help of sheer statistics; attributing most of his fame to his name. How rhyming!
But this is all about the privileged celebs that have carved their identity and are world famous. What if as a mango man, the ‘aam admi’, your identity was to be defined by the identity of another mortal, that too a celeb whom you know as well as everyone else and the person questioning you? Confused? Read on…
Since long, I have been fighting this so called identity crisis created by the ubiquitous question when people meet me for the first time, “Are you related to Manisha Koirala?” My polite answer is “No”. I try to be honest and kind, knowing that the dubious person’s next query would be, “Then are you in anyway related to the former Prime Minister of Nepal, Girija Prasad Koirala (some folks are unable to recall his name, and I am expected to come to their rescue)?” Well, my polite answer would be again, “No”. It’s still bearable if they stop at this. There have been umpteen numbers of people who have rubbed it further asking me, “Are Manisha Koirala and Girija Prasad Koirala related to each other?" For Christ’s sake, how on earth would I know that when I have already told you that I am related to neither of them? Go and Google it for yourself.
This has been happening to me right since my kindergarten days. I faintly remember this question being shot at me for the first time. The occasion was an intra school elocution contest. I had bagged the first prize. Euphoric! The chief guest of the evening, while handing the prize, with a confident smirk on her face, asked me, “Are you Manisha Koirala’s relative?” As a kid, I was numb struck, not knowing what to reply. The name seemed familiar, especially the “Koirala” part. I politely replied, “I do not know ma'am” and left with the trophy. My mom explained it to me later, rather unconvincingly, that all we similarly surnamed people are somewhere related to each other in the family tree. Till date I furnish this version of my mom’s tale (did someone say “fairy”) whenever I am in a grumpy mood, and want people to stop at the cliché “Are you related to Manisha Koirala?” And trust me it works. I am yet to fathom how exactly it works, but it does! Probably for some strange reason like they get convinced that they’ve met one of her relative, so they no longer bother about the other prospective relation between Koirala (Manisha) and Koirala (Girija).
Nevertheless, these questions have helped many to break the ice and start conversation when meeting for the first time. I choose to explain when the person on the other side is someone I want to know more about.
P.S.: My name is Koirala, and I am not “related to Manisha”. (Karan Johar, I have nothing against you, but your movies suck big time)
Shakespeare very famously said and I quote, "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."
Our contemporary hero when proudly stated, “I am Bond, James Bond”, swooned the very sanity of all ladies around the globe, and they all fell for it. The actor has changed over the years, but the name has prevailed. If James Bond and Shakespeare were to get into a debate, James Bond would easily gain ground with the help of sheer statistics; attributing most of his fame to his name. How rhyming!
But this is all about the privileged celebs that have carved their identity and are world famous. What if as a mango man, the ‘aam admi’, your identity was to be defined by the identity of another mortal, that too a celeb whom you know as well as everyone else and the person questioning you? Confused? Read on…
Since long, I have been fighting this so called identity crisis created by the ubiquitous question when people meet me for the first time, “Are you related to Manisha Koirala?” My polite answer is “No”. I try to be honest and kind, knowing that the dubious person’s next query would be, “Then are you in anyway related to the former Prime Minister of Nepal, Girija Prasad Koirala (some folks are unable to recall his name, and I am expected to come to their rescue)?” Well, my polite answer would be again, “No”. It’s still bearable if they stop at this. There have been umpteen numbers of people who have rubbed it further asking me, “Are Manisha Koirala and Girija Prasad Koirala related to each other?" For Christ’s sake, how on earth would I know that when I have already told you that I am related to neither of them? Go and Google it for yourself.
This has been happening to me right since my kindergarten days. I faintly remember this question being shot at me for the first time. The occasion was an intra school elocution contest. I had bagged the first prize. Euphoric! The chief guest of the evening, while handing the prize, with a confident smirk on her face, asked me, “Are you Manisha Koirala’s relative?” As a kid, I was numb struck, not knowing what to reply. The name seemed familiar, especially the “Koirala” part. I politely replied, “I do not know ma'am” and left with the trophy. My mom explained it to me later, rather unconvincingly, that all we similarly surnamed people are somewhere related to each other in the family tree. Till date I furnish this version of my mom’s tale (did someone say “fairy”) whenever I am in a grumpy mood, and want people to stop at the cliché “Are you related to Manisha Koirala?” And trust me it works. I am yet to fathom how exactly it works, but it does! Probably for some strange reason like they get convinced that they’ve met one of her relative, so they no longer bother about the other prospective relation between Koirala (Manisha) and Koirala (Girija).
Nevertheless, these questions have helped many to break the ice and start conversation when meeting for the first time. I choose to explain when the person on the other side is someone I want to know more about.
P.S.: My name is Koirala, and I am not “related to Manisha”. (Karan Johar, I have nothing against you, but your movies suck big time)
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Repetitive to Mesmerising
It’s strange how some things or people of whom you do not have a very good initial impression end up being one of your favourites simply by the phenomena of repitition. It might have happened with most of us at some point of our lives. Be it the bicycle as a kid that you didn't like but because everyone was buying it, even you got yourself one; or as a teenager, the slim girl next door whom you considered as just another girl, but ended up developing a huge crush on her just because all your mates would melt at the very sight of her, passed a good chunk of their day discussing her; or probably, the computer game which you were not very amused with in your first trial game but somehow got addicted to it later, thanks to the discussions of the game making the rounds. This is the kind of infuence some people or a group of people have on us. And most of the time it happens unknowingly. I prefer to call this phenomena the transition from repetitive to mesmerising.
Recently I was influnced by this phenomena yet again. I, along with few other colleagues sit in one of the conference rooms in our office, five of us packed in a single conference room. This was supposed to be a temporary seating location for us, due to infrastructure limitations, but we have ended up sitting there for more than two months now. It's a different stroy that none of us want to move out of it anymore into isolated cucbicles. If that happens we have to trade our freedom with privacy. Another significant reason being, we do not want to deprieve ourselves the pleasure of listening to loud (well, higher than normal volume) music sans the headphones. We have an "inmate" whom we fondly call DJN, who makes sure we stay entertained all the while at work. DJN initially used to toggle tracks from the myriad of collection that he had.
Then it happened one day- music of Karthik Calling Karthik was released. All the songs from the movie was tried in the labs of DJN, and the only one that passed all tests was the track- "Uff teri Ada". And we had DJN playing this track day in and day out. How I hated it. Every single time when the singer repeated the word “uff” with equal exuberance, I would end up hating it more. One fine day, DJN did not play the song. I thought he finally obliged to my resistance, but no he’s a tough nut to crack. My misconception was cleared when the guy sitting right across him educated me, “He didn’t give up dude. He told me this morning that he is sick and tired of listening to the same track everyday, to the extent that it has started seeming to him like a “bhajan” in the temples. So, he is kind of taking a break.” For me it was a metamorphosis of feelings from elation to petrified.
Me: ”Mate, don’ t tell me he’s gonna resume it again in few days!”
Friend: “I bet he will :-) “ How I hate that smile.
A couple of days went by, DJN played almost every track from his collection, but “uff....”. I started feeling a lull in the music scene of the conf room. Then this fact trickled into yours truly’s head that the song had now become an opium to me. This could be possible only because DJN repeated it to an extent that probably I started associating the song with the entertainment portion of my working time contrary to the monotonous coding that we developers do perennially. These days if you happen to pass by the Conference Room, chances are pretty high that you would get to hear a faint version of “uff teri ada” with the only difference that this time it would not be DJN playing it.
Recently I was influnced by this phenomena yet again. I, along with few other colleagues sit in one of the conference rooms in our office, five of us packed in a single conference room. This was supposed to be a temporary seating location for us, due to infrastructure limitations, but we have ended up sitting there for more than two months now. It's a different stroy that none of us want to move out of it anymore into isolated cucbicles. If that happens we have to trade our freedom with privacy. Another significant reason being, we do not want to deprieve ourselves the pleasure of listening to loud (well, higher than normal volume) music sans the headphones. We have an "inmate" whom we fondly call DJN, who makes sure we stay entertained all the while at work. DJN initially used to toggle tracks from the myriad of collection that he had.
Then it happened one day- music of Karthik Calling Karthik was released. All the songs from the movie was tried in the labs of DJN, and the only one that passed all tests was the track- "Uff teri Ada". And we had DJN playing this track day in and day out. How I hated it. Every single time when the singer repeated the word “uff” with equal exuberance, I would end up hating it more. One fine day, DJN did not play the song. I thought he finally obliged to my resistance, but no he’s a tough nut to crack. My misconception was cleared when the guy sitting right across him educated me, “He didn’t give up dude. He told me this morning that he is sick and tired of listening to the same track everyday, to the extent that it has started seeming to him like a “bhajan” in the temples. So, he is kind of taking a break.” For me it was a metamorphosis of feelings from elation to petrified.
Me: ”Mate, don’ t tell me he’s gonna resume it again in few days!”
Friend: “I bet he will :-) “ How I hate that smile.
A couple of days went by, DJN played almost every track from his collection, but “uff....”. I started feeling a lull in the music scene of the conf room. Then this fact trickled into yours truly’s head that the song had now become an opium to me. This could be possible only because DJN repeated it to an extent that probably I started associating the song with the entertainment portion of my working time contrary to the monotonous coding that we developers do perennially. These days if you happen to pass by the Conference Room, chances are pretty high that you would get to hear a faint version of “uff teri ada” with the only difference that this time it would not be DJN playing it.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Move Over.. It’s My Turn Now!!!
I saw it coming
When you least expected
With sentiments pumping
Wishing this time it’s not eluded
No compromises anymore
No thinking if it hurts them
I am no more the college sophomore
With maturity not as few..ahem!
Tell me once that i can’t do it
And see to what extent I burn myself
It’s time I make the call for it
Be it known to achieve it I won’t cheat thyself
The calling of the heart believes it exists
It’s time for the Phoenix to rise from the ashes and how
To make sure after I am gone I still persist
Success here I come to attain thee... Move over it’s my turn now.
I give up when...
I saw you standing there... pale, numb, disheveled. I hate to see you like that. But when u spread your arms, craving to be hugged, I give up. I give up when you tell me that you want me forever. I give up when the warmth of your sighs fortifies the air around my face. I give up... when u kiss me. That twinkle in your eyes convey to me all that you feel. The tiny fingers, when they grasp my shoulders tightly, remind me that you are my angel, ever so vulnerable. The radiance of your smile never fail to enchant me. I want this moment to be frozen in time, live it the same way as in dream; fearing when I wake up, it’ll be all gone. My baby I won’t give up even if you are gone!
Thursday, March 8, 2007
All About EVE, But At ADAM's Cost?
This day marks my first attempt at blogging, and what better than to start it on this propitious day- Women's Day. This article is a rational outlook to the never ending hullabaloo :
Women have suffered shocking inequalities for centuries and continue to be discriminated against. I am all for ensuring equality of opportunity for women. The problem arises when in the garb of compensating for past injustices; new laws are formulated to discriminate against men. Dowry is a shocking insult to womanhood. But there have been cases where wives have framed husbands and in-laws just to avenge a failing marriage. A wife's mere complaint is sufficient to put the in-laws behind bars.
The law makes it a crime to abuse a woman physically, mentally, verbally, emotionally and sexually. While i fully agree that women deserve this protection, do men not deserve similar protection? Men have a tax exempt income of Rs. 1.10 lakh while women get upto Rs. 1.45 lakh. Why should a man earning an income of Rs. 5 lakh pay more than a women earning the same sum?
In Canada, so much attention was paid to female education and sports that today women significantly outnumber men in many fields of higher education. 60% all new jobs go to women. There is a realisation that intense (and justified) focus on female education has led to boys falling behind and only now correctives are being installed.
Women are our loved mothers, sisters, daughters and wives. Don't make them the enemy. Gender is an attribute of the body. The Atman is sexless. Have female equality by all means, but don't start male inequality. Let not the sins of the father be visited upon the son.
Women have suffered shocking inequalities for centuries and continue to be discriminated against. I am all for ensuring equality of opportunity for women. The problem arises when in the garb of compensating for past injustices; new laws are formulated to discriminate against men. Dowry is a shocking insult to womanhood. But there have been cases where wives have framed husbands and in-laws just to avenge a failing marriage. A wife's mere complaint is sufficient to put the in-laws behind bars.
The law makes it a crime to abuse a woman physically, mentally, verbally, emotionally and sexually. While i fully agree that women deserve this protection, do men not deserve similar protection? Men have a tax exempt income of Rs. 1.10 lakh while women get upto Rs. 1.45 lakh. Why should a man earning an income of Rs. 5 lakh pay more than a women earning the same sum?
In Canada, so much attention was paid to female education and sports that today women significantly outnumber men in many fields of higher education. 60% all new jobs go to women. There is a realisation that intense (and justified) focus on female education has led to boys falling behind and only now correctives are being installed.
Women are our loved mothers, sisters, daughters and wives. Don't make them the enemy. Gender is an attribute of the body. The Atman is sexless. Have female equality by all means, but don't start male inequality. Let not the sins of the father be visited upon the son.
--- excerpts from TOI
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