Tag stolen from One more why blog but with direct permission.

Answer as you want, even if you are here by mistake and for the first time. Please Please, i beg, someone answer, even if you have to say only mean things, ................

1. Who are you?

2. Are we friends?

3. Something I have and you want?

4. Give me a nick name and explain why you picked it?

5. Describe me in one word?

6. What was your first impression of me?

7. Do you still think that way about me now?

8. What reminds you of me?

9. If you could ever give me one thing, what would it be?

10. How well do you know me?

11. How do you see me in future?

12. Ever wanted to tell me anything, but couldn't?

The night when moon went missing

My daughter and Iwere out for a walk last night, sky was clear but for few clouds here and there. We were generally having a good time and appreciating the beautiful evening, looking at the stars when I realized that there was no moon to be seen.

So I asked her "I can't see the moon, can you find it?"

She looked around and could not spot it either and said "No"

I: "Do you know where is it?
She: "It is hiding"

I: "Why is it hiding?'
She: "It is hiding from the hyenas" (Note: her favourite movie these days is The Lion King)

I: "Why?'
She: "Because hyenas will gobble him up"

I: "How?"
She: "They will jump and gobble it"

I: "But hyenas cannot jump so high, how will they reach the moon? I think moon should not be scared."
She: "They will climb on the clouds and then gobble him"

I: "But how would they climb the clouds they are also very high"
She: "I don't know, you tell me"

So we finally thought for sometime and came with the solution.

Hyenas will wait until it rains, then they would use the rain as a rope and climb up on the clouds, from there they will jump and gobble up the moon.

And finally after discovering that moon had a reason to be scared, we happily ambled back home.

bolo hanuman ke jai...

Design

I had a privilege of meeting (in a group obviously,where I was merely a presence) and hearing a billionaire last month (not bragging just establishing the credentials of the gentleman). We (the group) were discussing various things, when the discussion veered towards design and I quote what he said...

"The hardest thing to achieve in a design is simplicity. Simplicity takes effort and much more detailed thinking than a complex design. But simplicity sometimes is also harder to appreciate than a complex design. But the effort of the creator should always be to achieve simplicity. But there is another dynamic in a design, specially for public buildings, which is local sensibility. In such a case you cannot ignore the local sensibility and sense of design even if means sacrificing simplicity. India is a great example, in India people appreciate monuments, structure, for them design is an art form and sensibility is guided by the structures they have been exposed to; intricately carved temples, art forms etc. It would be difficult for the masses in India to enjoy anything that is simple. People might see simple as boring"

Just FYI, gentleman is 36 years old.

words, idea and a link

Last weekend went out drinking (again) with friends, two of us were generally getting bored so reached the venue much earlier than planned. So rather than just hanging around and chatting about nothing we decided to play story-telling game. It’s an old game, many of you would have played at some point of time, but for you who don’t know, the rules are like this, one gives the other person three random words and the other person is supposed to construct a story or situation around it. The condition is that the story/situation must be complete and told in maximum of one or two sentences.

I enjoyed it a lot, so here are the situations and the stories. You are free to write your own versions.

Situation 1: One life, one death and a divorced couple on a boat
Story: A recently divorced couple meet again at the spot where there son had drowned and the wife tells the husband that she is pregnant.

Situation 2: Two people on different tables in a restaurant, one with the mobile wants the other out of the place
Story: Man with the phone makes a call that lasts for 3 minutes, gets up from the seat, puts the phone surreptitiously on other guys table and walks out. After some time cops come and arrest the other guy.

Situation 3: Gun, shoelaces and a man
Story: Man wants to die so that wife gets the insurance money. Suicide will get him nothing. Takes the gun, puts the shoelace on the trigger and other end to the door. Sits in front of the gun and waits for someone to open the door.

Situation 4: Bed, overturned quilt and an open door
Story: You see a bed, overturned quilt, open door and you hear the voice of a little girl from the next room “Mom I had that nightmare again”.

Situation 5: Woman at a bar, mobile and a cherry
Story: Woman at the bar, keys in a number on the mobile, places the phone on the bar, puts a cheery on top and walks out.

There were some more situations which I cannot remember but we were surprised to find friends in so soon, after two hours.

Thank you - A true story

I must be around around 7 or 8 years old when this incident happened. To whosoever i have told this incident/story never believes it is true. As amazing as it may sound, it actually happened, I witnessed it. I have tried not to embellish the story but tell in a manner as i experienced it as a child and the way the memeory still holds it.

One day my brother and I were playing in the garden, when we saw this parrot stuck in the bushes. We tried to help him come out by pushing the branches here and there but somehow he was unable to come out and was very scared. Finally my brother reached inside, gently held the parrot and helped him out. Then we put the bird down thinking he would now fly off. But the bird just sat there looking at us. We tried to cajole him to fly but he just plain refused. So we finally decided we cannot just leave the bird there, we will bring him home to stay with us.

There were two issues one we did not want to keep the bird in the cage (and we hoped he might want/remember to fly at some point of time), secondly we had a dog at home. We were scared that he might harm the bird (with a dog named hiti, short for Hitler, it was a fair assumption). So we marked out the territory for the parrot and the dog so that there were minimal chances for their interactions. When the parrot was in the house, the dog stayed out and the other way round.

So the parrot happily adjusted to the new environ hopping from room to room, eating the food which we offered, and making our lives delightful in the process. He would sleep in our room, was generally quite, we tried to make him speak as we had seen in the movies, never succeeding. Everyone was happy,arrangement was final, we assumed he would be with us forever.

As is with every story, it was not to be. One day we were sitting in the garden, when my father picked up the a parrot and put him on his forearm and said this is how Maharajah Ranjit Singh used to put his hawk. Parrot stayed there for a second and then suddenly he just flew away. We looked at him in his flight, completely taken by surprise. We thought this was the end of the friendship. He was a joy till he stayed with us, sad he had flown away but then we always wanted him to fly, so it was mixed feeling of joy and saddness. I remember crying and clapping at the same time.

This logically should have been the end of the story but it was not to be. Three days had passed, when my sister screamed asking all of us to come out quickly. My father, mother, brother and I ran outside and we saw these hundreds of parrots flying on top of our house and from those this one parrot came down and sat in middle of us. We knew this was our parrot. He stayed with us for ten or fifteen minutes, met us all. We patted him, played with him while none of the other birds came down, they kept circling on top. After which he flew away after saying, I assume, a thank you and the final goodbye. This time all of us just stood there smiling at each other.

He never came back again but has always stayed with us as a shared memory of the family.

Now you know why people never believe it but i hope you would because it is true.

M(a)X-doms

I had the honor and the privilege of working with MX. MX, a born leader, prince among men, a teacher, an institution, who in his inimitable demeanor; shared the wisdom beyond comprehension. To this day I grapple with the profundity of his genius.

I miss MX.

There are many that I can share with you, the little nuggets of wisdom that MX would dispense more easily than we breathe, but there are two which particularly stand out.

M(a)X-dom 1: Never let technology get you down.

And man did he stand up against the technology. He was the rock of Gibraltar, unflinching, steadfast in his abhorrence towards technology. E-mails, mobiles, IMs, were meaningless for him, the bane of human emotions and in his counter-offensive against technology he never let a tree stand in his way. He and his printouts – like brothers in arms. And he rubbed technology’s face in the mud, humiliated it to the core, wounded its soul by asking for three sets for everything –one for him, one for me and the third for just in case.

And in case you have made a any itsy bitsy error, no offense taken, he would calmly ask to simply cut some more trees.

And such meetings were never just about work, they went beyond business and delved in the realms of art. MX – you connoisseur of fine art – so subtle was his understanding that a neophyte, the philistine would never get the nuances at one glance. Every job needed to color coded, not just any green, that green or that red or that blue, never this always that.
But did the patient man ever take offense. No, never. He was almost a saint.

Got it wrong.

No problem, here’s the MX Axe, go chop.

Wrong again.

Chop chop and chop chop and……

Bring back, bring back, oh bring back my printouts to me.

M(a)X-dom 2: Nothing can stop me from meeting you, you and you.

MX was a great believer that social decline of our values, culture was due to lack of human interactions. He tried to stymie this degeneration by creating opportunities for interaction where logically none existed. But then such limitations were nothing in front of MX’s will and genius.

Let me give a simple specimen of his effort. I used to sit about three meters from him but whenever he had to ask me anything - inane to absurd to abstract – he would never ever call me, he always desired my physical presence in his room.

But the process was always open for innovation so that more can come in the fold of his benevolence.

He would call his secy and ask her to come to his room and then ask her to ask me to meet him, then the secy who had crossed my desk on the way to his room, would walk back to my desk and ask me to meet him and then lead me to his room and then inform him that what he had asked has been achieved and I am present in his room as he can see himself, then walk out and then MX would ask what he had to ask.

Do you see the brilliance of his maneuvers?

Where any ordinary person would have sufficed with a simple phone call, MX created four unique human face to face interactions – one MX with his secy, second secy and I, three, MX, secy and Iand four, MX and I.

In the deep jungles of Africa, legends say that MX is so busy in spreading happiness that he eats his breakfast at lunch time, lunch at dinner time and dinner only next day at breakfast time.

I wish everyone either has the privilege of working with him once in his/her lifetime or get a
boss who is at least equal to the shadow of MX.

Long live the master.

Reasonless post - Just trying to copy a writing style

Hello sir, good morning, yes you sir I am taking to you , don’t look here and there, why the confused look, now don’t panic, no I am not trying to sell you credit card or insurance. No not even toilet paper. No I am not from any NGO or religious institution. What did you say, political party? I will not even answer that.

But you got one thing right. I am here to sell something. I am trying to sell you a concept; a concept that, hopefully, would break a myth.

No sir, you look a decent person, ordinary to the core, a good representative of the masses, if I see you tomorrow somewhere else I am sure I will not even recognize forget remember you, chances are I will probably mistake anyone else for you. That is the uniqueness of us common people, that there is nothing unique about us, we are one huge homogeneous mass of ordinariness – all are one and one is all.

Now see you made me veer away from the topic. Before I sell my product, I mean the concept, again you have the same look on your, no you will not have to pay anything but it might cost you a lot, can I ask you couple of questions.

Are you an honest person? Yes, hmmm…

Are you a law abiding citizen? Yes

Are you ethical? Yes

Do you have all the right principles, values, you know what I mean, the right thing stuff? Yes, ok
And I am sure you do not believe in violence, cheating, crime, amoral behavior etc etc. The way you are vigorously lolling your neck, as an Indian I know you mean yes, westerner would have been mightily confused.

Good, good, you are doing really well so far, actually exactly what I expected, I could have saved some time by not asking these questions, then I have all the time in the world and sir, don’t fidget I know you are in no hurry either.

Now why are you all that you said? Do you want to be that or are you expected to be that or has someone told you to be like that or since everyone like us is like that you are like that?
And I am sure you are all the above because you want to be like that.

Whatever the reason, it really doesn’t matter except that you are like that and would have stayed like that had I not walked in your house and disturbed your afternoon siesta. Ah I see you don’t like that.

Now let me tell you a secret, secret I heard from the mouth of the one who knows the real thing, this whole thing is a lie. A grand lie. A myth. An illusion. An alternate reality.
It is like that movie, Matrix, have you seen it. I did not particularly like Part 2 & 3 but the first one, had what do you say, depth.

This honesty, ethics, principles have been created just for the benefit of the few. It is like one those Ludlum “world is in danger” stories, except here it is real.

Now don’t give me that look, and no you cannot take a relief break. I know you think I am some lunatic and you right now want to run inside, lock the door and call the cops.

No sir, you have to sit here and listen to me. Look around yourself, politicians, industrialists, businessmen, criminals, crooks, dons, and again do you see any commonality. Yes they are rich, they live a luxurious life, they wear the best clothes, sleep with the epitome of human beauty, dine at the best places, rule us, scare us, guide us, decide for us. Overall are probably astronomically better off than us.

But look again, there is something else, look closely and you will find a mirror image of yourself. Now I see a frown on your head and you are concentrating, those little cells running here and there, connecting, forming, chemicals frothing, churning more neurons, old memories, logic, emotions going haywire, words coming and stopping on the tongue, yes sir, they are what you are not, they are dishonest, unethical, unprincipled, law breaking bunch of goons.

All this everyone knows, I assume you also now, and you know what you are because of them. The crooks, the goons, these goondas ensure that we tread the path which we think is the right path. Nah sir, it is not the right path it is a blind alley without an end.

Let me bring to your notice another aspect of their personality, have you seen how brutally system deals with the petty crime and how easily these gang lords escape the law. Now if you and I, no sir, I am not staying you do it, I am saying assume, you do a big heist, crime that makes you either rich or powerful I say you will go free without a hitch because you would not be you but them.

Now the question is why they want us to be us and not them.

Sir economics comes very handy here or you can look at jungle it is the same thing.

In the jungle everyone cannot be a tiger, there has to be deer too. More deer means tiger has more food. As in jungle as in economics our resources are limited now if everyone desires them and wants them the competition is so much higher. Assume everyone is a tiger, which we all are; after all human desires are the same, but then someone wants us to be deer and has transmuted us into deer. Only when there are more deer there is more food. Now when you revert back to the tiger, jungle rule applies again, feline family does not feed on each other. They just do not enter your territory, they might kill you but will never feed on you.

Now sir, it is not a question of right or wrong, you can choose to be a tiger or deer but you always have a third choice, to be an elephant, live life by your rules, and not by the tenet of someone else. You know deer and elephants both have almost the same needs the difference is they are not anyone else food. Unfortunately today in the human society we do not have elephants today we either eat or get eaten.

I can see a question trembling on your lips, what you should do. There sir I do not have an answer. My role ended here itself; I wanted you to know that you are what you are not by your individual choice but by the will of someone else. Your destiny is decided by greed, someone else pulls the strings of your life.

The question I leave you with is this; how can we be a society of elephants?

Sir, you can enjoy your sleep whatever time is left, no you would rather stay up, your choice sir, though must say it makes me happy. Now you are surely kidding. I can tell you some more secrets but then someone is waiting for me. Next time, I promise I will see you again shortly and in the meanwhile if you can keep your answer ready.

Foot Note: The last 2 books I read were “The Reluctant Fundamentalist” and “The White Tiger”.

Random thought

Remember when you read or hear a great line, in it is hidden not just a great thought/idea but also a beautiful conversation.

New mind or old hand

It is amazing the kind of delusions that corporate world believes in and the shit they dispense to a new employee.

I have changed quite a number of jobs and have heard it everywhere i have gone. But the saddest part is despite repeated disappointments i still believed them every time.

Oh yes, give it to me baby, the orgasmic words - "you will enthuse the team with fresh thinking", "fresh mind will give us new insights" - or some similar bull shit.

You hear these magic words and you have this surge of enthusiasm, maybe a suggestion or two pour out from your mouth under a misguided presumption that the utterer actually meant what he said. But even before you can finish your earth shattering, brand shaping and market shaking insight, the boss man says, hold on, hold on, I'm sure you have a wonderful thought which has lots of potential, why don't you first see how we do things.

Then the grind starts, this is the brand architecture, this is the brand soul and that is the essence, this is how we slice mangoes and that is how we peel oranges and this has to be there and that is a no-no. You cannot say this, this is not how the brand speaks and here is our language and there is brand palette. Guard books, scrap books, design books, brand manuals, zillion years research data, data mining, data processing and the works land in your lap.

Lo and behold, before you can blink, mind rebels and takes the next train home and there we have a old model of robot, ready to follow every command and tread the path where grass will never grow again.

So next time you hear those golden words kindly let these words echo in your old mind and raise your fresh hands to slap the fucking old face that says it.

The first story

My daughter is 2 1/2 years old. She just loves to hear stories and also thinks she can tell them too. Her stories are largely anything goes disjointed sentences but I just love listening to them. Yesterday, and i assume inadvertently, she constructed a story which made sense to an adult mind.

So here it goes, enjoy the first story by her, narrated as heard...

She: Dada, I will tell you a story
I: Ok, tell

She: One day, there was a jungle
I: Then...

She: Jumbo elephant came from the jungle
I: Then what happened

She: He saw a little girl crying
I: Then what happened

She: Jumbo came and, and piched her up in his trunk and, aaaaaaaaaaa, and put her on his back
I: Did she stop crying?

She: No she cried again
I: Why did she cry now?

She: Little girl cried for her mama
I: Then what happened

She: Mama came and took the little girl
I: Then what happened

She: Then jumbo cried
I: Then what happened

She: Story over

Impressions from ThighLand and BangCock

Post written in a hurry so that I do not lose the thread of thought. Would come back to it sometime later and try to craft it better.

Just back from a short visit to the Bangkok. The basic impressions I assume have been well captured in the post title.

But that is not the reason for this post though that would make a spicier post to write.

Here we go with the raison-de-etre of the post, albeit a short post.

Women dominate Bangkok. They are everywhere. They just control every sphere of that city, any and every kind of business. Men seem to play a secondary role and are hardly seen. Now and when you do see men they confuse you the hell out of you. They look, walk, talk and exhibit more female traits then men.

My theory (and I am sure there would be better ones) is because as a country they probably suffer from low self esteem. And this low esteem probably is a result of thriving sex tourism that exists in that country. History as witness, there have been more battles fought for the honor of the women than anything and even wars fought otherwise the victors first action was to ravage the women and humiliate the opponents by this public act of dishonor. And here is a country where people from all across the world come and pillage, despoil their women and there is no recourse for the men but to accept it. The suppression of the natural male traits leads to them cloaking themselves and changing more into like women. Seems like a good and probably the only recourse for the men to hide their shame. Be part of the shame than an audience.

Even this is not the reason for this post.

The point is that this behavior of men really stands and looks really odd. Rather weird. And at some level you feel embarrassed. But if you step back you find the world over women are doing the same thing. They are turning into men, for reasons which are valid enough, but then in their new avatar they are also as far away from their true self as the men in Thailand. And in turn weird.

The question that I ask is, should women lose themselves and evolve into something that’s not them just to survive? Is being men the only way for them?

Such men in Thailand are weak, spineless sissies.

But are you also the same?

The cloak of darkness

What is the purpose of night club? Why do we go there? What joy do we seek? Or what sorrow do we intend to forget? Who do we want to meet? Who is a victim of our disdain? What is the trip and what is the high? What makes us seek and lose ourselves amongst the pulsating beats, the sweaty bodies and thumping hearts and sloshed minds?

Howsoever hard I try to rationalize and reason it out as good times and pleasure trip with friends it somehow doesn’t get a grip in my mind, including the variations of the same theme, “I love to dance, great place to loosen up, and so and so forth”. Even the assumption that these places are watering holes for the stressed out metro life, seems a trifle bit watered down logic.

If I were to propose our intrinsic desire for promiscuity takes us to such places, how would you react?

Let’s start by breaking the whole experience into some basic elements – drinking (an act of lowering the inhibitions), close proximity of strangers (physical immediacy), a sense of adventurism (fueled by heightened senses) and these in turn bring forth our natural physical desires to the forefront. Yes, alcohol does lead some interesting discussions, fun, bonding but situation-location axis is located in very different physical dimension. And when this does happen in this setting it cocoons us in a silo which is independent of the physical reality of the night club.

My query is when the mind is conscious of the place, vibes and the energy in which the milieu is enveloping us and our willingness to embrace and resonate with the vibes, revel in the weakness of the flesh. When we are conscious of our lust and the lust of others around us, spilling over, so close, so real that it can be touched, smelt, felt on the skin. We perform for the world around, a mating season, peacocks with their wares in display and baboons with their bums raised.

But surprisingly in India this rarely translates into a reality it demands. Despite our realization, need and desire we do not succumb, we do not give in. We ignore the world we have transcended into and clutch to the realities we want to let go.

What holds us back? What stops us?

Fear?

Values?

What is it?

If we don’t plan to transcend our mental barrier why make the effort? Why pretend?

Who do we fool? None but ourselves.

Where we can quench our desire, we only fuel our lust.

I suggest either give in or give up.

Either ways shed the cloak of darkness and lies.

Why are most Indian men such perverted pigs???

Post open for discussion on sushi bar.

There was a girl who once went on a quest, from the dregs of history an answer she wanted to wrest, why are most Indian men such perverted pigs?

She moped over the question, in the day and the night, awake and sleeping, in mind and dreams, till on her forehead she had a frown. Cobwebs refused to clear, mop went calling, floor got a dusty crown.

Indeed why?

One day she has a vision and in a flash of inspiration, she found the key, why sit alone and whine when the answer could be found straight from the swine.

Without any rebate the question was up for debate. The question was up on the blog to be answered or to be flogged.

Sitting quite a pig thought why not I take a dig.

As a reaction, venom he wanted to spew and answer honestly you Indian bitches make us so. But he let the mind relax and answer that would be right for the sensitive ears of the weaker sex.

He picked the question and chewed on it a little, then he chewed a little more, till the jaws ached and the mind raked.

The pig was wise, the young lady he wanted to apprise but before he imparted the ancient wisdom and offer a peek in his kingdom, he wanted to be sure, as advised by astute men and prudent (assume the root is same as prudish) women, he understood the question’s core.

The question is full of assumptions which to the mind seem like presumptions, but the lady though callow, was smart not to make her choice of words shallow. She said most and not all, she wanted to be incisive without being divisive but it still is a tall claim and she should be game to get her share of shame.

Only Indian men she decided to slander, letting go scot free in general the gender, Indian within the present geographical, political confine, past, future, she allowed to shine. Whites we assume merrily can claim that they do not share any such blame. Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Nepali bhai can also rejoice and keep their head high.

The question we (or most of us) are pigs is never up for contest, just sigh and tell her why. Indian men are indeed perverted pigs is a foregone conclusion and have no choice, and a symptomatic understanding is required and hopefully corrective medical and psychological treatment reasoned.

But the pigs are stuck with a complex question and have not yet gasped the complete meaning; the question can still take many leaning.

From the muck the pig ambled and with the dictionary gambled. Lexicon offered some answers which made the question even denser. Here below you can find some things he read and try to decipher the right thread. Pig wanted to avoid the wrong path and not become a victim of a woman’s wrath.

Three meaning did he list, you can read too to get the gist-

1. Deviating from what is considered right and correct.

2. Marked by misinterpretation or distortion

3. Of, relating to or practicing sexual perversion or showing or appealing to bizarre or deviant tastes.

On one thing he was pretty sure option 3 was not his chore, a path he need not toil, even thinking like for almost all frigid Indian women in this light would make them recoil. This was a deduction without any disparage, and in this fight, he did not intend, female in particular, in any manner slight.

But the query never would swing where it sings, why are Indian men sexual deviant or kinky sex pigs?

Though I wish that was the facet it would have been cathartic to come out of the closet. Unfortunately it would be safe to say, for this today is not the day.

Option 2 is also out, pigs stay so much in the open, that there is no question of any misinterpretation.

Now the understanding is in light, it would be safe to assume that the question means why do Indian men deviate from what is considered correct and right.

Keeping the semantics aside, perverted is behavior that is not natural beside. Now if such behavior is natural and not a ruse than the usage of the term perverted becomes superfluous and we are still a little clueless.

What if the pig were to say, the conundrum in your mind, would read right and you come clean, if the question was why are Indian men perverted pigs according to Indian women, only then the answer you would find.

Pig has only tried to take away the question’s sheen but that does not warrant any spleen.


“A wicked man taketh a gift out of the bosom to pervert the ways of judgment”…Bible

Tagged

Tagged by Gauri. Never been tagged before, but this one comes with a divine intervention for reasons best kept secret.

So the tag is about 5 things (i would double that) which the better (by a mile) half (just half???) has changed in me. That really requires not much of thinking, possible to answer with one word - EVERYTHING.

But I assume tag requires one to be more specific, so here it goes-

1. She has changed my outlook towards marriage. I assumed life would change after marriage and I was right and completely wrong. It changes but surprisingly for the better. Not only do I do all the things which i did (boys nightouts, golf, video games, all night movie watching, drinking insanely) before marriage but now there is a friend at home also to continue the party. Now i actively recommend marriage to everyone, including strangers, even people I hate (this I used to do before also but for different reasons).
2. A little (this one is miniscule but of astronomical proportions relatively) sense of responsibility. Reminders are required, but her positive attitude towards anything, home or office, has brought a definite change. And even that small change has helped in my professional life - I procrastinate less, take more responsibility, am little more proactive, less lazy. Its gradual but i am getting there.
3. I have been to, seen more places with her and because of her. She has this itch in the feet wherein we need to do things and visit places where we have never been before and things done before. Journey is still on and before we are done I am sure she would ensure we have visited every country in the world and every city in India worth seeing atleast once.
4. She has been able to change pronunciations that were genetically coded in my thick punjabi accent. Enunciation is better, I can not only write this word but say it too, and also entrepreneur, strategy, milieu and zillion more.
5. Due to her unparalleled cooperation i am today a superhero, conqueror of the universe, the bete-noire/nemesis of green goblin and father of an adorable daughter.
6. Her amazing optimism and zest for life has rubbed on my head in the sand pessimism.
7. I read better books, change my wardrobe once a year (against the earlier average of when the threads vanish with washing), have clipped nails, clean haircut and a shaved, well scrubbed face. And better manners - now i remember to say goodbye to the hosts when we are leaving their house.
8. I have a better career because of her, she encouraged me to change, take risks - do whatever I wanted.
9. I can tolerate my relatives now, just barely. I do not get angry while driving (that probably saved me from getting shot one of these days). I have learnt it is possible to talk to people you are meeting for the first time or don't like in more than monosyllables and about things other than weather.
10. I am in a better shape to flirt than I have ever been in my life, so good that I think I can probably manage another wife (hey come on, you can't expect me to say only the right things).

So thanks to her I am still ME but a BETTER ME.

i tag

Manoj

Sudip

Kundan

Anupama

The true wisdom of chick emancipation flicks revealed

I was watching yesterday Break-up starring Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn for lack of doing anything worthwhile.

It was fine, going nowhere, but still throwing here and there some interesting moments. Then it ended. And what an enlightening ending.

Let’s revisit the plot. A nowhere going couple gets into a stupid fight, fight that gets stupider by the minute, till the woman has a Buddha flash of wisdom (copious tears all ignored here by me with a quick dash to the fridge for more beer) and they break-up. What caught my attention was the closure moment. They meet again after undefined but not too long period, she is now a successful high flying career woman and the man is kind of nobody, dumbass, at low end of life kinda person.

Moral of the story –Don’t leave a woman because if you leave her she will be successful and you a dumbass jack.

That’s cool. Good for you ladies.

Or maybe I should be selfish and not let you go for my own good.

Hey, hey now wait a minute….but that would mean you still would be good for nothing sorry ass, who I regret meeting in my life and the “living hell” goddess of misery.

I have a vague suspicion that I have missed a very vital point here.

Am I supposed to treat you like dirt so that you succeed or am I supposed to pamper you so that you rot?

Message currently decoded by simple male brain-

1. Mean, selfish men treat their women nicely and ensure women go nowhere, while they do well in their careers and lead a comfortable life.
2. Benevolent, caring, sensitive, gentle men, kick women around, are heartless and insensitive to their needs so that she succeeds.
   

I know there is a catch somewhere there. Could someone explain this conundrum and clear this fog of confusion.

Honest. Honestly?

Is your virtue an offspring of fear?

A lot of us, including me, try to give our meekness a garb of honesty. We all are privy and participants in conversations wherein we crib about the growth of an aggressive, nasty, corrupt person in the organization while we stay on slower, normal curves. And collectively we moan, oh yes, he is growing fast today but in the end honesty shall prevail, the truth will be found out, he/she shall suffer, I will be rewarded, they would realize my worth and the other person’s shallowness.

Ah dear, sorry to disappoint you but that would never happen, you shall rot and he/she shall reign. And before I forget to mention they would prevail thanks to our so called honesty.

Let me try to explain my point with an analogy.

A meek person (the erstwhile believer in his honesty, a term I refuse to employ any longer in reference) is ‘honest’ everywhere. They are followers of law, rules, regulations and the works. Imagine this gentleman driving on a single lane road, staying within the well laid out rules and suddenly he finds a rogue driver trying to overtake him where there is no such scope and at the same time there is a big truck coming from the other side.

How does he react?

Yes, he slows down and allows the rogue driver to overtake and come in front of him.

Who was right, honest?

He was.

Who was wrong?

Rogue driver.

Who won?

Rogue driver.

Why did he win?

Not because honest driver was scared for the other person’s life and that was the right thing to do. He was plain scared of the situation and the possible damage to his car.

And his meekness lead to the rogue driver moving ahead and he falling behind.

As on the road, as in life.

We let them win.

The honest path for the driver would have been to stay on his path and risk the rogue driver hitting his car or ideally dying in a just accident.

Honesty is the toughest thing to practice. Path of honesty is not one of peace; it is violent, blood-spattered, aggressive choice. Only the bravest can take the blows of honesty.

Rest of us are just meek.

So I ask again….

Honest.…..honestly?

I am fine, how are you?

Got this mail as a forward from my wicked dad with a note which read "Could not resist sending this on to you young folks!"

Not sure who wrote it but it would do me good to remember this note for the future not too distant.

I am fine, how are you?

There's nothing the matter with me,
I'm just as healthy as can be,
I have arthritis in both knees,
And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze.
My pulse is weak, my blood is thin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

All my teeth have had to come out,
And my diet I hate to think about.
I'm overweight and I can't get thin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

And arch supports I need for my feet.
Or I wouldn't be able to go out in the street.
Sleep is denied me night after night,
But every morning I find I'm all right.
My memory's failing, my head's in a spin.
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

Old age is golden I've heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder, as I go to bed.
With my ears in a drawer,
my teeth in a cup,
And my glasses on a shelf, until I get up.
And when sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself,
Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?

The reason I know my Youth has been spent,
Is my get-up-and-go has got-up-and-went!
But really I don't mind, when I think with a grin,
Of all the places my get-up has been

I get up each morning and dust off my wits,
Pick up the paper and read the obits.
If my name is missing, I'm therefore not dead,
So I eat a good breakfast and jump back into bed.

The moral of this as the tale unfolds,
Is that for you and me, who are growing old.
It is better to say 'I'm fine' with a grin,
Than to let people know the shape we are in.

I AM FINE HOW ARE YOU ?

You are a golfer when....... Concluding Part

Contributed by a Golf Buddy

1. job satisfaction means weekends free for golf and weekdays free for golf research
2. you convince your wife to take up the game, just so you atleast have a 2-ball
3. the most important specification in buying a car is the boot size...it has to take your golf set, your golf cart and your friend's golf set and his golf cart- the words
4. "The woods are lovely dark and deep, and I have miles to go before I sleep" don't mean poetry to you, they just mean that you had a very bad slice on your tee-off
5. your wife stops worrying about you ever having an affair...where's the time for that?
6. "Paradise Lost" means your wife insists on joining you for your regular round of golf...henceforth
7. "Paradise Regained" means she gets pregnant
8. "Paradise Lost Again" means she is pregnant, but not by you...where was the time for 'that'?
9. you judge a man not by the size of his balls but by the brand on his balls
10. the cost on your golf set and equipment actually turns out to be an investment and not a liability
11. the only thing you want when stranded on a desert island is your sand wedge...why give up on all that potential practice?
12. you judge your friends for their easy availability to play golf and for their easy ability to lose always to you
13. all your vacation spots amazingly always seem to have an attached golf course...damn coincidence, you surely didnt plan it that way!
14. you instinctively note less than what you achieved and more than what your playing partner achieved, especially when you are the one keeping scores
15. your handicap is actually your calling card
16. everything else, including the rotation of the earth, is the cause of your disastrous shot, except your lack of skill
17. you start giving advice to your caddy on his game
18. you break 80 eighteen times in a row...till then you are just an intruder on a golf course

The weekend that was

Delightful movies, pleasing company, till I dropped drinking, satisfying conversations, joyful reading…. Just the way weekends should be (and always are) especially when your wife is not around. Wives are delightful creatures but some part of genetic coding gets mutated to one which is a perfect match with that of Hitler and some which has an uncanny resemblance to that of Genghis Khan, post marriage. Despite the threat, weekend of absolute irresponsibility was too tempting to pass by.

Even now as I am writing this, I am fully aware my wife would read it at some point of time but then I am also dumb enough not to absorb in my little male brain, that is not numb with overdose of alcohol and conscious, the repercussions of the wrath of a woman.

Office got over at 1800 hours on Friday and before that calls had been made to the right numbers and plans frozen and the ball rolling. And before the time-space equation adjusts to the new reality and Einstein’s relativity I was standing in front of Koshy’s and sooner than earth could turn another degree a glass of chilled beer was inches away from my lips. For the next 3 hours the only time I exercised my vocal chords was to order more beer. Time to pay a zillion rupee bill and just then a friend, a true friend, a dear friend, god bless him friend, walked in and took the tab (I told you it was a great weekend). From there still with a steady mind (or so I believe) oscillating a little bit on unsteady legs I went for Sarkar Raj.

Detour 1: Review of Sarkar Raj

Before I start with the review, lemme share my parameters of evaluating a movie. While watching any movie, the joy or disappointment can emanate from various reasons – technique, story, novelty, acting, style, idea or a combination of these - I am an average cinephile and no critic. I do not seek a perfect movie, I can love a movie just for a very small interesting moment.

Sarkar Raj is an extremely satisfying experience. It is absorbing political-criminal thriller executed in a manner which does justice to the genre. Political thrillers require scale, multiple threads, conspiracies, surprises, twists, grey areas, machinations which are not obvious to the naked eye, behind the scene negotiations, drama, loss of innocence, tragedy of epic scale -all this when the viewer looks at the obvious and makes obvious conclusions. The skill of the director is in bringing all the threads together in a cohesive manner which will ensure each scene is played again in viewer's mind and finally understood. The mind should gasp when the curtain is finally raised and amidst tragedy the end must offer a poetic and complete justice. Where an average film achieves this through pulping the villain, Sarkar Raj achieves in exactly 3 seconds. A turn of camera angle, click of light and you know it’s done, revenge, wrath, justice achieved in that short defining moment.

Ram Gopal Varma achieves all this to such a scale that as a viewer you should be generous enough to overlook the obvious flaws in the story or characters or his indulgence as a director of overplaying some scenes with Amitabh or his over-crafting of some scenes.
As a viewer just enjoy the story and ignore other paraphernalia.

End of detour 1

In between the detour there was a short interval which was well utilized by raising the alcohol level to another abnormal level – thanks to another, God bless him friend.

Sub note: In what you have read so far and what you would read further, you would find a trillion screaming subtle reasons on why men should marry and why wives should never leave men alone for longer than 5 minutes (that too only when husband has trustworthy track record of longer than 6 ½ years). This post is truly an ode to all the wives all over the world.
We are now at the end of Friday night or were it Saturday morning by now.

Reached late, got up early, had an early meeting with someone at 10.00am. Reached there on time, finished it quickly and walked towards my car. I had to buy some stuff for my daughter’s 1st day at school. I could have bought that from any store but decided to go to my favourite book store, with a promise to myself since I had really splurged money this month, I would just look at the books and not buy any. Honestly, I made that promise. Exit after 1 hour after spending Rs 1878 – Rs 50 for Avni’s stuff and balance small change on extremely vital, life saving critical books (Return of Dark Knight and two books from Discworld series).

As I stood waiting, the god bless him friend (1st one, who paid for alcohol not the 2nd one, though he also paid for alcohol) called. He had managed to get three tickets for Aamir and I was supposed to collect them before 12. Pronto I reached the Cineplex collected the tickets and stood there waiting for him to join. Now as I stood there, involuntarily, from the corner of my eye I caught a very attractive signage – Bull & Bush, pub and restaurant. I didn’t see it, these eyes showed it to me and formed an inverted image on the retina which was made straight by the brain and then the image decided to play havoc with my strong resilient mind. So after a long debate and counter-arguments that lasted 7¾ seconds I found myself ordering beer. Time was short, movie was starting in 30 minutes, I really had no choice but to drink quickly. It was painful, joyless exercise. I was not even able to breathe properly between two sips. But a man gotta do what a man gotta do. I did it. I moved from the plane of senses to delirium at the same speed as a married man would whenever, wherever left alone (this is another of those subtle hints). Can’t disappoint the brethren.

Detour No. 2 – Review of Aamir

I do not care what the reviewers write about it or the movie-buffs call it a copy of Cavite, according to me this is the movie of the decade. Relevant, timely, compelling cinema - Amazingly crafted, soulfully enacted, significant story, haunting music and beautifully shot. I am sure some of you know the meaning of the word aamir (and in case you like me do not know, don’t google it, the impact of the movie would be even better) but when the final shot the title comes on the screen you would realize why the movie is called Aamir.
It is a story of a Muslim doctor who comes back from UK and finds no one from his family to receive him. Out of the blue two guys come and throw a cell phone at him and the cat & mouse chase starts. The man on the other end (menacing Gajraj Rao) asks him to follow his instructions. He takes the protagonist on a wild chase and in the process numbs his mind. Numbs to the state where cohesive thinking is lead astray and in its place survival becomes the lone objective, a form of brain-washing, torture turning the victim a mere puppet in the hands of the master . At this point the movie moves towards the climax, climax which hopes for a better future - An appeal for a better choice. I wish someone would have the courage to make a similar story about Hinduism.

My advise watch it.

End of Detour No. 2

So we came of the hall in a heightened state of delirium and this friend turns and says he knows Gajraj Rao. We made him call him and screamed our praises in a collective din –not sure he heard them as a praise or abuse. But that call made it perfect, to be able to tell an actor how much I loved his performance.

From this point onwards it was all downwards as we paid our obeisance to Lord Bacchus. Our devout, dedicated devotion was well received and we were rewarded with complete clouding and obfuscation of rational thought. In a trance and under his will we moved from one place to another and paying our respects with every color to every taste the he was benevolent to offer on the table till we were satiated with his munificent, bountiful Prasad and in could only say in praise a loud snore lying on the floor. One of us even returned some of it after accepting it.

All the drinks were courtsey God bless them friends 3,4 & 5. 2 was not there and 1 was enjoying God bless them moment himself.

Few hours are missing at this point. But at some point I found myself waking up on the back side of the car.

We are now at the end of Saturday night or were it Sunday morning by now.

Sunday never started it had actually ended on Saturday night itself.

I somehow managed to drag myself up sometime in the afternoon, drove back home, took out the life saving books, which I had managed not to lose, and read and slept and read and slept and slept and slept, till now.

So darling wife come back quickly before I kill myself.

P.S: I told you I should come along.

You know you are a golfer when....... (Part II)

Contributed by Champ, THE Golf Buddy

1. You practice your golf swing everywhere – inside a loo, a conference room, a shopping mall, the parking lot…
2. Everything around your office environs feels like a golf course. The plant on the hallway – a tree hazard. The boss’s cube – a giant pit (avoid! avoid!). The narrow carpeted passages between cubicles – a beautiful fairway…
3. Honesty and fair play comes naturally.
4. Your wardrobe does not have the following items: Jeans, round neck tees, baggy pants…
5. Driving to the course at 4:00 am in the morning to chase a golf ball for 4 hours seems to be the most normal thing to you.
6. All your vacations are planned on the basis of proximity to a golf course. No course? No go!
7. You always carry the absolute essentials when going on a business trip – money, ID, blackberry, one glove.
8. You have an Excel sheet of all the scores of your last 52 games, complete with graphs, charts and SWOT analysis.
9. You take a break from this post at this point, and tell your friend that “Hey, I am done with the front nine, back nine to go”
10. You love nature. From within.
11. You realize that in golf, as in life, sometimes you are ahead, sometimes you are behind, the race is long…and the at the end, is only with yourself.
12. You go to pick up your buddy on a Saturday morning, you honk the horn, he comes out with his golf set on his back, and the cap on his head, and you drive off – and you know that, right at that moment, life cannot get better. (Note: This is a quote from Baz Luhrmanns song "Wear Sunscreen". http://www.lyricscrawler.com/song/3953.html)
13. Your favorite ads are those from Accenture. You wonder why they are not nominated to the Oscars.
14. Your idea of a fun weekend is to go to the golf practice range and watch others hit. And marvel at the flight of a golf ball that has been hit well. You can sit and watch for hours!
15. Your dream house is on a golf course. Facing the 18th green. So are all your golf buddy’s dream houses…
16. When you buy a new car, the first thing you check out is the boot space – how many sets can I fit into this thing? Will it fit three sets? And a cart? A friend’s cart?
17. Sometimes, grass can be more precious to you than gold. Especially if its grass from St. Andrews Golf Course. The Madikeri golf club has some of it, carefully placed in a jar for all true golfers to see and admire.
18. It takes you 18 days to write this, and you thoroughly enjoy every one of those 18 days.

Dumbass

Strong Caution (no longer valid - offensive language deleted): The words used in this post are the only ones which truly and aptly describe the person(s)/personality being described here. So if choice of such real life, right emotion evoking words offend you this would be the right point to stop. And in case you choose to go beyond this point and do get offended then you are the person I had in mind while writing this post because you were “dumbass” not to stop even against the right advise.

I had first used an appropriate word but it was found to be too offensive so have changed it to a milder one. Ideally should have deleted the post but I like it so it stays.

We all meet “dumbasses” and say why the fuck is he such a “dumbass”. Doesn’t he know he is a “dumbass” and why can’t he stop being one.

My dear friends I have made the discovery that would assuage your discomfort and put your mind to rest whenever you find yourself in a company of a “dumbass”.

The mandatory pre-requisite for a person who is a “dumbass” is that he doesn’t know he is a “dumbass”. He simply doesn’t know.

The logic is irrefutable. All facts point towards it.

So let’s start with the premise that a “dumbass” knows he is a “dumbass”. I doubt anybody starts wanting to be a “dumbass”. If nobody wants to be a “dumbass” that means a “dumbass” would try not to do what makes him a “dumbass” and when he does that he no longer would be a “dumbass”. And if a person is capable to such lucid thought that would mean he was never a “dumbass”.

That means premise was wrong.

A “dumbass” doesn’t know he is one.

QED.

So next time you meet a “dumbass” you would know that he is a “dumbass” not by choice - he is just a “dumbass” by a stroke of nature.

And you who is thinking of leaving a smart comment that proves I am one by using my logic against me, I just have one thing to say “dumbass” didn't you read strong caution.

God's own country

View to the room
Artisitic ambition

Taj Retreat in the night. The oil lamps are lit every night and managed

by women from a near by village. Place looks amazing in the night.

Lazing around

My malhar on the boat ride.

Still lazing

Sunset

Sunset

Sunset.

It definitely took a long time for the sun to set on this see the sun set boat ride.

You are a golfer when….

1. You find a crawling ant on the green louder than a screaming wife at home
   
2. You might be late for every meeting while you would be standing sharp on time for your tee-time
   
3. You might be an atheist for life but would think of God before hitting every shot
   
4. You stand on a beautiful beach and the sight of sand gives you a fright
   
5. You suddenly find yourself spreading your legs and wiggling your bum in a crowded room
   
6. You find yourself practicing writing with the golf grip
   
7. You see Jaani Rajkumar in a new light when you discover those hideous white shoes are actually golf shoes
   
8. You find yourself smiling at your mom-in-law after a great golf round
   
9. Your every holiday destination needs to have at least one golf course
   
10. Your wife says tea-time and your eyes light up
    
11. No one can tell you a golf joke you have not heard or read before
    
12. You take your golf set along when buying a new car
    
13. There is no posture of yoga that you cannot do
    
14. You convince your wife that caddying for you is quality time.
    
15. Swinging alone is also fun
    
16. All your friends have an handicap
    
17. You still have the hope of playing good golf week after week even after sucking at it for the last seventeen years
    
18. You are not a cow but grass makes you drool

My rejected advertising ideas

The world will never see or hear or read or admire or award any of these ideas.

Why?

Elementary, my dear Watson, these are rejected ideas buried in the annals of advertising briefs. (a small detour here, the aforementioned phrase is false as the character of Holmes in the none of the books have ever said it. He did say Elementary in the story “the crooked man” but never the full phrase).

So why try to bring to life the dead ideas?

I have not written anything for a long time and am unable to think of anything, so I thought let this be the post for today.

Moreover these ideas had amused me then and might not be bad for another chuckle.

Disdainfully Rejected Idea No. 1:
Product: Mint
To take you back to the genesis of this idea. We were working to reposition a mint brand. The brief from the client was to break the clutter and research showed that the purchase is one occasion linked (immediately after smoke), impulse or an exchange for loose change. The time gap between the intentions to action is minimal or to say it simply what matters is TOMA. And TOMA is linked to advertising and POP visibility. Damn this is getting too academic, coming back to the idea, the problem was any possible position was already occupied – more attractive to opposite sex, fresh breath, throat etc etc. So we had an option either to say the same thing with a different creative expression or find something new.
My thought was that the benefit of the product is well established, the solution is to find a creative expression which is so absurd that it will stick through sheer amusement. But the idea need to be linked to the core product benefit of fresh breath.
So I proposed XYZ Mint means long happy life – Eat this and live long.
I had an irrefutable logic to the whole thing.
It is proven fact that people who have more friends and have an active sex life (ignoring the hazards of AIDS) live longer.
Now lets ladder.
Ladder 1: Mint -> fresh breath -> Pleasant personality -> more friends -> long life
Ladder 2: Mint -> fresh breath -> Attractive -> more Girl friends -> Active sex life -> long life

Add them and you will be lead back to the starting point of long life.

Ahem, now you know too why it was rejected.

Scornfully Rejected Idea No. 2: No preamble here straight to the creative line-
“Men who wear jockey will never understand bra-burners”

Contemptuously Rejected Idea No. 3: Isn’t it time you guys gave me a promotion?

I think I have embarrassed myself enough for a day. But beware there are millions more such “hall of shame” ideas which you would can be subjected to if you don’t leave some nice comments here.

And if you upset me, such ideas would infest your comment posts to ruin your blog.

Corporate destiny

He was a dedicated, honest, committed employee. And he had a nasty boss who made his life miserable.

Boss was spiteful, malicious and ensured every day in office was living hell. None of his great ideas ever saw the light of the day.

Boss had an uncanny habit of creating some critical work every Friday evening ensuring nights in the office every weekend.

He had lost his hunger and had not had a restful sleep for months. The very thought of office gave him nightmares.

After another horrid day in the office, he was lying on his bed. He made a wish – God, I try to do my best in the office every day and fail because of my boss. I am the good person here and he the bad one. Despite this he sleeps peacefully while I rot. Why I am not the boss and he the junior? If I was in his position everything would be right.

And while still mulling these thoughts after much tossing and turning he slept.

He had another miserable night full of nightmares.

Next day when he woke up, his wish had come true.

God knows how but the universe had conspired to make his wish true.

And with a purpose he strode towards the office.

He was there at his desk sharp at 9.30 and waiting to discuss his ideas with the junior.

10.00 am – no sign of the junior. Must be busy, he thought.

11.00 am – still no sign. Now he was getting restive. As a concerned boss he tried calling but no response.

11.30 am – junior walked in nonchalantly and sat down.

He called the junior to his room and with great enthusiasm discussed his idea.

Junior aggressively argued against the idea and even after much persuasion refused to buy into the idea. Boss had committed a presentation to the management the next day.

At 5.30 junior walked out of office after giving the work-life balance spiel to the boss.

He had to stay back in office till 1.00 am to finish all the work.

He had another miserable night full of nightmares.

The full sunday

I had a full sunday this weekend.

I ate the whole day.

Rolling Ball

The traveller as he was walking down the road was surprised by the sudden appearence of the ball.

In one fluid motion he kicked the ball back to kids.

He stood there for sometime deep in thought.

He did not go any further.

Tourist

I envy the people who become part of the new cities they move to.

People who embrace the change that comes with the change.

Read a beautifully written article by Gauri about Kolkata and the evolution of her relationship with the city.

People say cities have their own unique personality. And your interaction with their unique traits redefines you as a person. Each city carries with it its unique smell, distinctive sound, individual voice, singular touch. And with time you immerse yourself in it and become a tide of its flow.

I wonder how that happens.

I have lived in many cities but somehow my own voice muted any other sound around me.

I lived in Pune and was never touched by its spirituality. I lived in Delhi and never heard its boisterous voice. I missed Mumbai’s smell of sea. I never tasted Bangalore’s sweetness and never saw the vibrant colors of Panjab.

I look back at all those years and the tragedy of life stares back at me.

There are multitudes of worlds around me and in this myriad is a world that is mine, is me. And every time I see a new world I have two options, either bring my world to the new world or fight against the new world to protect my world.

I chose to fight and unfortunately won each time. I surrounded myself with the known, the comfortable and the familiar.

I have never have had friend in any of those cities who was a local. I moved with outsiders like me, their own microscopic worlds no threat to mine. We all saw this unique world from outside.

I was probably a tourist in each of these cities, clicking my pictures for the photo album to be
shared with friends & family once the vacation was over.

I know now what I should have known then and I still live in a new city.

Will I change?

Unfortunately no.

For me there is now only one world, world of my creation.

Microscopic, insignificant but mine.

Resident of my asylum & confined for life.

Free Tibet - Blog and Tackle

Creative by: Manoj Jacob

Note from Manoj:

"I understand the theory of not mixing politics and sports, but I fail to understand its application with regard to the 2008 Beijing Olympics. The world's largest sporting event will earn a huge sum of money for the Chinese Government. And as you know the bullets being pumped into Tibet don't come free.

Whose side are you on?

If it's China, you don't have to go any further than this.

If it's Tibet, copy these ads and post them on your blog, and pass the word on to other bloggers. If you're not a blogger, save the ads on to your computer and mail them out to as many people as you think might care."

For more details log on: www.shoestringtheband.blogspot.com

Wayanad Trip

Road to the resort
The resort - Fringe Ford

The day companion

Share the chair with someone surprise visitors

The view from the car

The dining room

Sunset time

The night guests

Fresh Food

Neighbours

View on the way

Some more

Pit stop in the middle of the jungle