The Heart

What is the most complicated thing in the world?
The heart probably; but this post merely tries to engross myself into amazement on what the size of this complex thingy should be/would be.

Having spent 4 prime years of my life in BITS, a part of my heart lies there in Pilani, in some corner of VK QT. Am sure that there will be many others who would agree with me that their parts of their hearts are also roaming around rent-less in FDs or some other Reidis of the campus.

But here is the point; Pilani is not the only place that a part of my heart has ever set up a permanent camp. How about Guntur, my domicile? Not sure if bigger or smaller than Pilani version, a part of my heart stays there too.

And the lists of places continue- Bangalore probably holds the greater part of it, with some part shared by Bay Area. And not to forget Vizayanagaram, the place I was born or Jangareddy Gudem – the place that brought me up and took my dad away from me!
So many pieces; aren’t they?

And whatever piece remains in me - its overloaded with a hell lot of stuff. Remember the iPad that is there for a long time now (and never actually came to me). And all those cool looking shirts, SLR cams, laptops, bikes, cars, and (OK, let me stop here). Ufff, should be Very Very Very much stuffed.

And this is after we throw away our hearts on all those good-looking girls of the planet and given it completely to that one special person* after a lot of trail(s) and error.
And how can you downplay all those friends and family that have a special place in there.

'I Love APIs', and if you are like me, your heart should have been by now, full of XML, Java, or all those crappy looking circuit diagrams or flowcharts. Technology and work I mean, an ocean by itself.

And now what should be the size of this heart - should be pretty massive to fit the above requirements description in logical terms.
But if it is, how many liters of water would be required to fill it up with tears or how many kilos of happiness would be required to fill it with joy? Somehow all that it takes is a little praise/compliment.

So what do you think the size be?
Scientists say - the size of a fist!
Can't be… Can it be? It does feel very very heavy sometimes…

eNjoy,
Morus

*PS 1: If you still remember where you saw that *, it was just a generalization.
PS 2: Tried to, but couldn’t avoid the psenti part.

Khaleja - My Review :P

I am no reviewer of movies, no not at all. But this one time, I felt like reviewing the reviews of this movie that I liked a lot, that is judged to be un-likable by the authentic sources of the universe. And I got a classic case to strengthen my view that these professional movie reviewers are a pile of crap.

Is anybody else as curious as I am on what these reviewers do, after they get up in the morning every other day? Will they look at the calendar and say, “Yeah, today is the day. I can bitch a little more about Sharukh Khan. Where is my dictionary of urbane vulgar adjectives?” Or will they just open the book ‘Reviewing for dummies’ to revise the basics elements and say, “Oh yeah! Almost forgot about the concept – surprise element. Should see if Trivikram pulls the surprise element that I read the other day on surpises-database.com.” And is there a closed group-networking site where they will post, in the last 20 minutes of the movie “I am giving 3, what is the community opinion?”

Anyways, this is a topic for a different post, and I invite the radical movie viewers to pick it up from where I left it. But I had to bring it here, as I was about to tell that I was not at all surprised that there are no good reviews of this movie. And may be, it is meant to be that way. After all, what do you expect of those people to say of this movie, when they are trying hard to compare it with all the good things they ever knew about movies. The comedy was good, music okay; are all that the reviews have to say positive about this one. But I am sure that this is not what the makers of the movie wanted to hear about the movie.

I don’t remember how many times the Telugu moviemakers have really gone out of the box in making a movie like this. I felt the movie inspirational. It may just be my weirdo, but liked to see a movie like this made in the main stream. The core of the movie runs of the prophecy of a village priest that the God will incarnate to save their village. And the paradigm that God is not a distant omnipotent substance builds the solid foundation to the story. The converse would be that- the limit of human ability is infinite, as infinite as the God himself. I personally feel that the director/writer would have been blown off attempting to bring this concept to screen.

The concept was tried in the novel “The Immortals of Meluha”. Though I did not like the quality of writing or plot as much, I am amused by the sheer story line of the novel. Exploring the possibility of anew point of view, contradicting all that the infinite morass has taught us our entire life; isn’t it so amazing a source of optimism?

I was thinking that is just my own intellectual absurdity that I find the movie and book similar, may be because both of them talk about Lord Shiva in mortal terms. But this video is what made me realize that the moviemakers have hit the bull’s eye.

Watch the video, and think about it. And if you have watched the movie just think of what the hero is for those villagers – a god. But is just a cab driver for the rest of the world. And if the concept were legitimate, so can you be a hero for some cause/somebody but still be the same stinking you for the rest of the world? Doesn’t that make things simple and more importantly things possible?

Well, again- there is no rule that movies have to be realistic. Since reality in itself is just a point of view. And if there are more people like me who find these professional reviewers funny, join me in taking a digg at them.

eNjoy,
Morus

PS 2: I am not a fan of Mahesh

PS 1: If you did not like the movie but liked this post, think about me if you have some venture in mind and are looking for print marketing help

PS3: 2 coming before 1 - it was intentional

The Species Called ...

Note 1: This is THE post that I was giving heads up about, in my previous posts
Note 2: There are always exceptions. If you stay abroad, you are exactly the exception I am talking about. But there is a small quiz at the end, if you like to take.
Note 3: Famous or infamous, any controversy adds popularity. What is the best way to gain overseas popularity than taking a dig against them?
Note 4: All the people living abroad are mature enough to laugh at themselves, and still feel good about it
Note 5: No one throws stones at fruitless trees. Only those full of then get hits.

That’s it guys, I ran out of comments that can pacify ‘The species called NRIs’
Long long ago Darwin classified the life on earth - called them reptiles, mammals etc and gave the gold to humans. And even before that, the men self-divided selves in whatever way possible (race, country, religion etc). But somehow everyone left it to the genius of Morus to classify this most superior species called NRIs

The term is first coined by Indian government and called it "Non Resident Indians". (For some reason, they are called NRIs even if they come back). It's only after the release of Swadesh, the real meaning was brought to light by Ashutosh Gowariker - "Non Returning Indians". Well but they do return to India, at-least briefly. But probably, since they can never return to being Indians, this definition holds true. Dodge this – ‘you will never see a day that they don’t speak about abroad, when they are in India.’ (And if there is, it is most likely that they are alone in the house that day.)
I think this is the funniest reply I’ve seen from a 2 months old, 3rd generation NRI. "Typical California Weather." The question is irrelevant, but 2 months to judge a typical California weather, and certifying that California in-fact has California weather qualifies it to top the charts.

“I am not complaining”, is how these conversations start but the rest of the conversations will be nothing but complaints on why India is not like US or doesn’t have tubes like London etc.

The optimist part of me used to think that it is just their concern for their motherland that they complain. But the water cooler discussions are what enlightened me to the fact that it is just an attention war (Ex: Walk on the Manhattan road, you will realize San Francisco is just another laidback city). And hence this post is to certify that they win the war and they are in-fact the most superior species that ever lived on the sub-continent.

Like any other species, NRIs also affect the ecosystem around them. If you are an Andhraite, you would definitely have heard a comment or two on this NRI hype; from their agents (also called family) left behind on this less privileged place. With all the sophistication they have somehow they are the best selling item in the marriage market. People who crib about the Indian corruption/bribes take the highest dowry (for me, both of them are not very different.)

Who knows, may be this time around I will comeback with a "I heart NY" in Bangalore, cursing the luggage delay and boasting about the difference between (read as greatness of) Hong Kong airport and San Jose airport to my comrade NRI (remember the water cooler discussions?).

But here is a small test if you want to measure the NRIness in you. Will put the answers in comments in a while.

All the questions start with “In India:”

1. iPhone or Android , who do you think the people will support?

2. What is the flight fare from Bangalore to Chennai?

3. What is the max speed you can do on Mumbai - Pune freeway?

4. What is the federal law for audio piracy?

eNjoy,
Morus

PS 1: Nothing... really...

Ruthless Verity

I really did not want to write this post. But writing is something that has kept me sane, for a few years now. So I thought that I will write this one but will not post it in public. Few call it expression and some call it completion. But the bottom line is- if something has been bothering you a lot, you cannot be your self unless you cast those feelings out. So here it comes this post (probably purely for myself).

Weird the life is - I can write pages about things I've seen in a day. But words veil when I try to put my 25 years on paper - that is what describing this man would be. That is probably why these 2 letters in Kannada remains my favorite and most uttered word till date: Appa (Father in English)

I used to wonder why my success small or big is a bigger celebration for him than me. But thinking about it, all those sleepless nights of his about setting up the finances for my education or those restless thoughts he had in teaching me the right attitude- are the rightful owners of my success than I am. And now I wonder what any of this success or achievement would mean.

And I think, that is also why all the things I do now - as small as opening a key or as big as talking to my boss, take conscious effort from me. I am learning all these things again, all the things that he taught me, and all the things that he made me with. It is definitely a new life for me, as life can never be the same without him in it.
How I wish that all of this is a dream and I wake up to hear his voice at least, but only I do not know how to end this dream or wakeup for good.

I know that no one is here to set up a permanent camp. And life has to move on. But I think it is not my complete self, but a part of me that was he and will always be him- that is still orphaned as it is seeing the world for the first time, and cannot even budge as if 2 calendar months is no time at all to accept this ruthless verity.

Though I miss him badly ever now, since hatred is something he never taught me, ‘Thank god for giving me the worlds best dad. And thank him for me, for he is with you now’.

My dad used to tell me that - from gravest of pains comes the greatest of strengths. Though I wish to forgo any strength that I could get at this cost, I will now wait to see what it is, for that is what I think will define that part of me that is headless as of now.

The Great Bangalore JAM

Just a few months back I was claiming that I enjoy the commute to office, as my Apache RTR would be waiting every morning to zap me through the 12 KM outer ring road stretch in 20 mins, taking a brief break at the few signals that would let me overtake the fast moving 4 wheelers. But this day, it took me 2 hours to reach the office. When I told my friends about this they said that this 10x* delay is nothing when compared to their best scores. But getting drenched both in sweat and drizzles in the same commute, I have my due rights to crib. And here comes this post: on the great Bangalore Traffic JAM

The traffic was fun as I could manage to drive through the small gaps the SUVs would leave for the bikers like me: to have the excitement of leaving the rich commuters behind with their morning radio, the fun that bikers alone would understand and appreciate. And when the theory of particle moment decided no more movement of liquid particles, I stopped.

A moment latter a vibrating tummy stopped next to me, as the scooty carrying it could move no further. The engine stopped when the burning petrol was no longer a global warming concern, but his monthly budget consideration. As global warming and overloading of poor vehicles were not the interesting of the topics, I decided to move ahead to a trail that will take me to the next signal. Apparently there are many more like me on the road, trying to advance. But amazingly the collective effort by all the individual drivers has an inverse effect of the traffic as a whole – it won’t move an inch.

The only cheerful things were the forward jokes on traffic Jams that I could memorize. I remember one of my bro’s friends telling me that he used to take a newspaper with him on the way to office, and would finish reading every corner of it by the time he reached office. If the traffic remained like that for few more days, I would have to think about some innovative idea – a new company till work (female of-course) or a new company to work for (closer to my home)

Am not sure if it’s the weather that responded to my mood or vise-versa, but both of them turned irksome. The sun should have read some twitter update. He came all his way pushing the clouds aside to check out this JAM and bless us with some free vitamins. After what looked like an era the traffic finally started moving. And then the auto guys who were standing on a perfect 45-degree angle to cross the road from the closed drains managed to do the honors. The traffic stopped again, almost– moving at a speed of 2 kmph (~ 1.25 mph for all you NRIs)

The immediate signal finally came within an hour. It’s not just the lack of basic needs of food and shelter; even the frustrating traffic jam drives the senses off people. The rich - poor, educated - illiterate, student - professional, to - fro commuters everybody started squeezing into the small junction – my social teacher john appeared of thin air saying “unity in diversity” to the classroom- me sitting in the second bench. And the realty stuck me “Holy crap! Hallucination – I needed some shade soon or I will faint”

I sure have some powers, within hours* the gods heard me. The sun vanished – probably some other topic was trending on twitter, and soon the clouds took charge drizzling some tears at our apathy.

“Remember SRK’s ‘I DO’, I AM the traffic jam” I said to myself and started steering my bike into the ruthless signal, leaving other poor souls in the back to think about their social teachers.

What was a boring 2 hours in JAM, turned out to be the exciting 15-minute finale. A truck guy with just beard and teeth (if I am to believe only my eyes) started forcing me toward the pavement of the road with his stupid truck blocking my way on to the road. He should be feeling good about helping me- by showing an alternate route he just discovered.

There lies the real reason for the traffic JAM, the fly over under construction. And I am right in the middle of that fbeepng construction. I wonder how these intelligent people think that the red ribbons that they put can really barricade the people entering the site – especially the mini truck terrorists from cross-border.

I turned back furiously to this truck guy and he was gesturing me to go with one hand while his other was on the horn ready to honk if I disobeyed. His only visible white teeth were assuring me that “I am behind you my boy, go ahead”. And few more vehicles followed this Columbus. “Now I can’t really block the innovation”, I convinced myself and moved on.

The road got narrower and the gap between the pits (dug for the pillars of the flyover) smaller as I went on. I turned back, and to my horror, the truck guy wasn’t there. The squander should have found his way towards the Hosur road leaving me in the middle of the construction.

The only spectator was a guy standing at the construction site- should be one of those TV9 Journalists thinking about the right abusive words to blame govt for my death. But to his dismay I managed to cross the patch, thanks to the servicing the previous week, the tires did not skid on that damp scrap.

A twitter post saying “frustrating traffic jam” would have been good enough. But 140 letters are hardly sufficed to let my frustration out. For true, traffic JAM is one of the instances where you realize that it is a myth that you can be in control of your life (circumstances at-least)

eNjoy,
Morus

* PS 1: Time is measured as per Einstein’s theory of relativity "Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute.”

PS 2: The ending comment is more to keep my mark of giving some gyan with every post of mine.

PS 3: I know traffic jam is not one of the fascinating topics, but wanted to throw a challenge at my writing skills (if I can call it a skill yet). Love to hear your comments

PS 4: The NRI comment is the pitch for my next blog

Did I Win?

Read an interesting news article recently - the list of top failed countries. Pakistan as one of the top failed counties in the world. The first reaction to the news is a subtle happiness, for some reason that I don’t know.

May be this is the success of all the news hungry media/politicians and the so-called patriotic movies that stole a part of my hard (not really) earned money. For whatever reason, this country is my enemy and the first reaction to the news that it is in the list of failed countries is my victory, even though I have no role to play in its success or failure.

And then when I talked to few of my friends about this news, they too share the same happiness. So I am not the only one who is thinking iniquitous

A little more research on the same topic suggested that few other countries – Nepal, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh are also in the top of the list. God all our neighbors failed. Now is this a good sign. May be not.

And then I am confused, not because I have to rule India and talk to all these countries every week and day, but because of the weird correlation that came to my mind – the competitiveness in me. And I think all of us at different levels; share this attitude – fervor to win. And along with it comes this mysterious happiness on others failure, if we consider them as competition.

It’s more like this – all the while you struggle to reach the top. But when you succeed to reach there, then it will become all the more difficult to celebrate it, because you might have lost friends in the journey who would otherwise cheer you. And then you will keep wondering why you are not on cloud 7 at-least if not 9 at your victory.

Well it is not as worse too, but sometimes, a little exaggeration is required for your eyes to see the truth. But seriously, many a times the concept of victory looks dappled – especially if it comes because of other party’s failure. The only thing that can keep your sole at bay is the conviction that you played fair.

eNjoy,
Morus

With the Present - one more time

“It's already late. The traffic of the outer ring road will be insane. And the 3 signals! I am surely to miss the train.” This used to be part of the travel packages almost all the time. Well, you can read that almost as certainly.

But this time it is a little different. Letting 3 buses go at 1 AM, drinking the tea from the platform vendor is not something that I generally do. Just to be transparent to my usual self I chose these reasons - the first bus was crowded, the seats of the second bus were not good and the conductor of the third bus was not shaved properly.

While these reasons will not satisfy my usual self that has mastered the world of reasoning, today I choose to enjoy my journey.
No advance booking, no enquiries of the routes. But this time, the time is spent on all the important unimportant things like copying all the new songs to iPod, thinking about the book to read on the journey.

Part of the excitement is that I am going into the deeper parts of Karnataka to spend time with my dad - the same place that my dad took me when I was 2 feet tall. Now both my Kannada knowledge and my height grew alike (meaning not enough). Nevertheless I can understand if not talk a little more Kannada now.

It feels great to set your foot in a place that you know nothing about - nothing but the fact that you have been there in some distant past.
Yo man! Life is long. (Or I am old!)

This feeling is close to what I used to have back then - the distant past. The magnetic chessboard was all that I cared about and some company to play and loose the game against me, watching the bright round light of the coramandel express.

I think the similarity is that I am living in the present - in both the cases.

Of course it is true that even if I take bike rides, I will reach the 180 odd kilometers by tomorrow morning. But the point I am trying to make here is that I generally loose the charm in life because I am more concerned about the uncertainty of the future, taking it for granted that the present that has not gone wrong is in fact a stage for celebration. (Err, curse my English for yet another long sentence!)

Let me leave you with this thought -
Did you ever have this urge of forwarding all the songs in your play list expecting the next song to be better; while all of them were in-fact the songs chosen by you and your favourites. I have it often - more so when I’m psyched. But now I've been using iPod only to write this blog, enjoying all the songs in my play list.

eNjoy,
Morus

What managers expect...

Am a lil busy guys, these days.. Will catch up with you soon.. and will be something big this time...
(not getting married, of all the things)

meanwhile, dont want you guys to miss the best appraisal fwd mail i got....

What managers expect.... (feel free to use it in your self appraisals, short term/long term goals). A picture is worth 1000 words, if not more :P

It is not my story

Refer to the ‘Wattha Hell Series: The introduction'

It is not my story

If not for that not, the above sentence is heard a lot these days from the India’s best selling author Chetan Bhagat hereinafter called CB. The term of CB means and includes his respective names, nicknames, pen names and extra hyped publicity. (if you want to know more about the controversy, this is your hot stop)
My interest in the topic this time – for a change is not because it managed to reach the top of the crap news that Bangalore Times sells. But because I hold high regards for both the parties involved in the controversy. I am a big fan of direction/plot/screen play of the Munna Bahi series (and 3 idiots just took that regard to the new level), and the other guy for his speeches and columns (I personally feel that his books are crap)

I read this on CB’s blog "I don’t need anything. Even if I have no more movies made on my stories or nobody wants to read my books and columns, I’ll happily join ISKCON and dedicate my life to Krishna. But I will not shy away from the truth – ever." and I felt, what a guy – all the logic in his blog is unquestionable! India needs politicians like him. And then thought about it for a while and felt, what a crap – no surprise if he becomes a politician soon. If this guy talks so much of logic now, what stopped him from using a pitch of it during his involvement in the whole project?

Well, but let’s not take things too seriously. These guys - both CB and 3 idiots team are doing their job – to keep people entertained and give media a bone to bite.
From his blog, looks like CB (along with his fans) has moved on, without getting any of the credits - for what he fought. But what he got is a percentage increase in this fan following, increase in sales of his book and his popularity. I was doing a Google search for some “check” and when I typed “che”, it suggested chetan bhagat (while chess. check, cheap all start with che). Look at his whuffie bank stats for a visual clue of that he achieved – popularity. His books are there for 5 years and he is aleady FAMOUS. But the stats say differently. ( i mean not just this analytics bit, but how often did you hear him in the media pannel discussions before this issue?)




“Read my book, watch the movie – and then you decide” is what he has to say. In the gusto of being a judge, looks like junta are doing both – reading book and watching movie. The sales of his books have been shot up by 30% apparently and 3 idiots movie is crossing breaching all the box office records.
I’ll not be hesitant to believe any rumor saying that this is a self-created melodrama – after all he is an IIM alumni and ex-Investment Banker, who has to now live solely on writings.

By the way, if CB gets his due credit for the movie - will the title be changed to 4 idiots?

eNjoy,
Morus
P.S 1: Since I borrowed most of his dialogues (not sure of the percentage), not to create any controversy, I am giving this post’s credits to CB (that too before any other end rolls)
P.S 2: Did not include 3idiots team, as they don’t take this credits funda seriously