...because I am now in the states...
And, we don't have loonies and toonies here... :) :) :) Back to the days of good old bills for $1 and $2.
And... http://www.canadianfavourites.com (for xCanucks in the States). Get those Canadian things that you cannot seem to get in the States. You are welcome!
Friday, November 04, 2005
Thursday, October 27, 2005
World Champions?
I just watched the Chicago White Sox of Major League Baseball win the "World Series" (sic). The phrases "World Champions" and "World Championship" were splashed all over like the (cheap) champagne that flowed freely in the victorious Chicago locker room. And, as is often the case, I wondered why ALL US sports leagues claim their titles to be "World Championships"! Am I just a anti-hype kind of guy or are these guys taking credit where little is due?
Let us examine this for a second.
The NBA, NHL and Major League Baseball all play in two countries (US and Canada), while the NFL cannot even claim that little distinction. To me, "World Championships" are to be awarded when countries battle each other for the honours, not when piddly clubs fight for a poorly named cup that half 0f this world wouldn't recognize if their life depended on it. The NBA, NHL and MLB all take international sports and try to make themselves the bellwether. Can you spell "Shallow" ? The NFL probably has the best defense. It is a game played mostly by North Americans, ONLY in North America. Surely they can call themselves "World Champions", heck, they are the only ones playing the damn game!
All of these clubs assemble the highest paid talent in the world for sure. That fact is indisputable. But in the absence of any real international competition, should these leagues have the right to proclaim their championships, "World Championships" just because of this one fact? I think NOT. It just smacks of hype and megalomania.
Now, I am off to buy my World champion Chicago White Sox T-Shirt and Cap, for only US$ 51. ;)
Let us examine this for a second.
The NBA, NHL and Major League Baseball all play in two countries (US and Canada), while the NFL cannot even claim that little distinction. To me, "World Championships" are to be awarded when countries battle each other for the honours, not when piddly clubs fight for a poorly named cup that half 0f this world wouldn't recognize if their life depended on it. The NBA, NHL and MLB all take international sports and try to make themselves the bellwether. Can you spell "Shallow" ? The NFL probably has the best defense. It is a game played mostly by North Americans, ONLY in North America. Surely they can call themselves "World Champions", heck, they are the only ones playing the damn game!
All of these clubs assemble the highest paid talent in the world for sure. That fact is indisputable. But in the absence of any real international competition, should these leagues have the right to proclaim their championships, "World Championships" just because of this one fact? I think NOT. It just smacks of hype and megalomania.
Now, I am off to buy my World champion Chicago White Sox T-Shirt and Cap, for only US$ 51. ;)
Thursday, October 13, 2005
How many beers in your culture?
It was a weekday evening, and my wife and I were at a local Pizza Hut restaurant near our house, hardly a 15-minute walk. The skies threatened - as they often do in Vancouver, BC - to dump a load of liquid sunshine on our heads at any time, but being the brave souls that we were, we had walked our way. And the skies opened up a little, right as we entered the restaurant.
The restaurant was far from crowded, but the lobby sure was. There was tons of teenagers, some sitting and chatting, and other standing in the little reception area of the restaurant. A very chaotic scene, and the waitress (or part-owner?) was visibly flustered. She rolled her and generally gave the feeling that she would rather have a root canal than those teenagers in her lobby.
"Could you please wait outside?" she asked, with a mixture of irritation and anger, clearly annoyed that such a chattering bunch was occupying most of the front of the restaurant. "I am worried about security, so could you please wait outside?", she said. It was raining outside by now, so her "request" was a curt, not to mention borderline arrogant, as she showed them who was the boss. Three teenagers immediately left the restaurant, while a gaggle remained, though subdued. I wondered if her attitude was because they were really making a nuisance of themselves or if she hated the fact that they were Orientals. I will never know for sure.
The other guy at the till noticed us, and we were seated, by the same woman who drove out the teenagers. She was polite enough to us, and showed us to our seats. We ordered Pizza, and after what seemed like an eternity, the food arrived. I took one good look at it and sure enough, they messed up our order. We didn't want any cheese on our Pizza, they had forgotten this and made it with Pizza. We were hungry by the time this fiasco masquerading as Pizza arrived, and were forced to wait for a little while longer. Oh, well.
While we were waiting for our food, we noticed a caucasian couple sitting two tables away. Their table was filled with beer bottles: I counted 5 at a casual glance. If he had drunk all of them, he probably was drunk by now. The woman was dabbing her eyes with a piece of tissue, and not wanting to intrude on their privacy I looked away. The guy ordered another beer and I overheard the waitress saying something about "this would have to be last call then", and then walk away. When the beer arrived, he drank it down like water. I was considerably impressed.
Our food arrived - finally - and we began to dig in. The restaurant was mostly quiet, and we began to enjoy the pleasure of each others company.
"Can I have another beer?", I heard the guy asking. Didn't she say something about "last call" ?
The waitress told him that he had one too many and so she could not serve him anymore beer.
"But I only had three!", he said, "She had the other three". The waitress was not impressed by this and held her ground.
It was then that the conversation took a turn that I never expected. The man was quite upset over this. He tried several tacts, the plead, the anger and then he attacked her ethnicity.
Taking one long look at her badge, "I don't think you know Canadian culture", the guy said. The waitress looked stunned upon hearing this comment. "We are used to drinking a lot of beer. This is not Indo-Canadian culture you know? I don't think you really know Canadian Culture. It may be wrong to drink a lot of alcohol in your culture, but it isn't in ours", he continued. Raji and I looked at each other, and sure enough the waitress was upset.
She said "Stop this conversation right here. I am not from the Indo-Canadian culture, but I do know Canadian law. This is the law. I am not allowed to serve you more than 6 beers". The guy protested, but she took their plates and then walked away. The guy skulked in a corner, clearly upset at not getting his way.
After about 5 minutes, they got up, and went out of the restaurant. We thought they were bailing without paying, and considered warning the owners about them trying to possibly sneak away. They thankfully stood outside smoking. The waitress actually was taken aback at their disappearance as well, but her fears were allayed seeing the two of them smoking away outside. She continued about her business, and by the time she had gotten back to check on them, the two of them had high-tailed it, without paying!
The other guy at the store tried running around to spot them, but they had vanished. I was left wonder if they knew what Canadian culture was. The recipient of the vitriol, the waitress shrugged her shoulders, and went on about her business. She clearly knew more about Canadian Culture than this particular piss drunk caucasian guy.
As an immigrant, I am always cognizant of how people perceive my actions, but such accusations of a lack of understanding on the part of immigrants from people who themselves lack an understanding, I had never seen. I suppose there is a first time for everything.
Something to think about.
The restaurant was far from crowded, but the lobby sure was. There was tons of teenagers, some sitting and chatting, and other standing in the little reception area of the restaurant. A very chaotic scene, and the waitress (or part-owner?) was visibly flustered. She rolled her and generally gave the feeling that she would rather have a root canal than those teenagers in her lobby.
"Could you please wait outside?" she asked, with a mixture of irritation and anger, clearly annoyed that such a chattering bunch was occupying most of the front of the restaurant. "I am worried about security, so could you please wait outside?", she said. It was raining outside by now, so her "request" was a curt, not to mention borderline arrogant, as she showed them who was the boss. Three teenagers immediately left the restaurant, while a gaggle remained, though subdued. I wondered if her attitude was because they were really making a nuisance of themselves or if she hated the fact that they were Orientals. I will never know for sure.
The other guy at the till noticed us, and we were seated, by the same woman who drove out the teenagers. She was polite enough to us, and showed us to our seats. We ordered Pizza, and after what seemed like an eternity, the food arrived. I took one good look at it and sure enough, they messed up our order. We didn't want any cheese on our Pizza, they had forgotten this and made it with Pizza. We were hungry by the time this fiasco masquerading as Pizza arrived, and were forced to wait for a little while longer. Oh, well.
While we were waiting for our food, we noticed a caucasian couple sitting two tables away. Their table was filled with beer bottles: I counted 5 at a casual glance. If he had drunk all of them, he probably was drunk by now. The woman was dabbing her eyes with a piece of tissue, and not wanting to intrude on their privacy I looked away. The guy ordered another beer and I overheard the waitress saying something about "this would have to be last call then", and then walk away. When the beer arrived, he drank it down like water. I was considerably impressed.
Our food arrived - finally - and we began to dig in. The restaurant was mostly quiet, and we began to enjoy the pleasure of each others company.
"Can I have another beer?", I heard the guy asking. Didn't she say something about "last call" ?
The waitress told him that he had one too many and so she could not serve him anymore beer.
"But I only had three!", he said, "She had the other three". The waitress was not impressed by this and held her ground.
It was then that the conversation took a turn that I never expected. The man was quite upset over this. He tried several tacts, the plead, the anger and then he attacked her ethnicity.
Taking one long look at her badge, "I don't think you know Canadian culture", the guy said. The waitress looked stunned upon hearing this comment. "We are used to drinking a lot of beer. This is not Indo-Canadian culture you know? I don't think you really know Canadian Culture. It may be wrong to drink a lot of alcohol in your culture, but it isn't in ours", he continued. Raji and I looked at each other, and sure enough the waitress was upset.
She said "Stop this conversation right here. I am not from the Indo-Canadian culture, but I do know Canadian law. This is the law. I am not allowed to serve you more than 6 beers". The guy protested, but she took their plates and then walked away. The guy skulked in a corner, clearly upset at not getting his way.
After about 5 minutes, they got up, and went out of the restaurant. We thought they were bailing without paying, and considered warning the owners about them trying to possibly sneak away. They thankfully stood outside smoking. The waitress actually was taken aback at their disappearance as well, but her fears were allayed seeing the two of them smoking away outside. She continued about her business, and by the time she had gotten back to check on them, the two of them had high-tailed it, without paying!
The other guy at the store tried running around to spot them, but they had vanished. I was left wonder if they knew what Canadian culture was. The recipient of the vitriol, the waitress shrugged her shoulders, and went on about her business. She clearly knew more about Canadian Culture than this particular piss drunk caucasian guy.
As an immigrant, I am always cognizant of how people perceive my actions, but such accusations of a lack of understanding on the part of immigrants from people who themselves lack an understanding, I had never seen. I suppose there is a first time for everything.
Something to think about.
I quit INDE.
Well, after slightly over 3 years, I quit from INDE Electronics, Richmond, BC. It was quite a different experience, unlike any other company I have ever worked at. A new chapter in my life begins.
http://www.visto.com, in the Queen Anne district of Downtown Seattle. No showers though, so I gotta find a way to shower after cycling to work.
http://www.visto.com, in the Queen Anne district of Downtown Seattle. No showers though, so I gotta find a way to shower after cycling to work.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
The new Wallace and Gromit rocks.
I saw the "Curse of the Were-Rabbit" recently (October 8th) and it rocks. I have been anticipating this movie ever since it was announced, and I went the day after it was announced, being a big fan of the lovable-but-not-so-smart Wallace and the mute-but-supremely-intelligent dog, Gromit.
Nick Park, as is usual, sets up a very humorous situation for Wallace and Gromit: the owners of a business that protects the "belongings" of the residents of their town. The movie itself is a fascinating combination of excellent claynimation, drama, suspense and memorable characters and scenes, which is sure to bring a smile to the lips of a lot of people.
I enjoyed it immensely, particularly the subtle comedy that several of the earlier offerings of Mr. Park made famous. ("Call me Tottie", for instance). The kids will love the characters, and the adults will love the animation and the subtle comedy that is bound to go over kids' heads.
I highly recommend it!
Nick Park, as is usual, sets up a very humorous situation for Wallace and Gromit: the owners of a business that protects the "belongings" of the residents of their town. The movie itself is a fascinating combination of excellent claynimation, drama, suspense and memorable characters and scenes, which is sure to bring a smile to the lips of a lot of people.
I enjoyed it immensely, particularly the subtle comedy that several of the earlier offerings of Mr. Park made famous. ("Call me Tottie", for instance). The kids will love the characters, and the adults will love the animation and the subtle comedy that is bound to go over kids' heads.
I highly recommend it!
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Getting the next generation hooked…
As most cruciverbalists (aficionados of crosswords to the uninitiated) know, a morning is complete unless it starts with a crossword. This past weekend I was in Portland, visiting my brother and his family. This day started that way too. I was looking over the crossword Saturday morning, a cup of coffee in my hand. My two nephews, already at the table munching on their breakfast moved closer to watch me go at it.
I tried to involve them the best I could. I would call out clues and then say the answer out aloud, in the hopes that the two little rugrats would understand how it is done.
The clue was “Mississippi or Colorado”, and the answer was a 5-letter word. My little nephew first thought it was “state”. Then we found an across clue which gave us some help. It began with the letter R. My nephew, all of 9 years of age, said “River”. Just like that.
I thought it was an incredibly cool moment. This was the first clue he had ever solved. The puzzle needs to be saved away and cherished, much like his first kiss, or his first steps. Some adults are prone to be sentimental, and I am no exception. When he was 5, he would always grab the pen from me when he caught me doing a crossword and say, “Tell me what to write, and I will write it”. He would stick the pen on top of his ear, just like I did, and we would both look like draftsmen with pencils stuck in our ears. And now, here he was, solving clues of his own.
I hear from my sister-in-law that the little ones are trying to get at least a couple of clues a day. It looks like we have created a new generation of cruciverbalists. And I am quite happy about that.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Fitness is a journey; not a destination
Their voices were deafening. I heard them every step I took. I tried my best to commiserate and yet I had to look the other way. They begged for relief, and I was torn between giving them what they want, and achieving what I wanted to. They clamoured for relief and I paid them no heed, for my actions are to be ruled only by my backlit watch.
By now, you might have guessed who "they" are - my calves and shins, those beasts that had the audacity to lose their conditioning when I wasn't exercising them well enough, or not at all. These sturdy aides that had seen me through 2 marathons were whining and complaining, asking for some mercy - the same shins that laughed at a half-marathon, the same calves that pooh-poohed a 20-miler. Oh how low the mighty have fallen!
Here I was, three years removed from my last marathon, and it showed. Last night I was running along a little shared path alongside Westminster Highway at a piddly pace. The air was chilly - uncomfortably so. All I had to do was run for 10 minutes and walk for a minute and do this 5 times. I wasn’t halfway into my first rep and my right shin was already killing me. I was severely dehydrated, having had more coffee than water during the day. And of course, coffee sucks the water out of your body.
I thought back to those days where I would do a 10-miler as if it were a walk around the block. The 52:10 10K that I ran without even trying. Why had I slacked off when I was in the prime of fitness? I had lost my job, sure, but didn’t that mean I actually had more time to run than less? Why? Why? Why do I keep falling off after getting to a strong position?
I am not ever treating "fitness" as something "achieved", a checkmark to be placed and then conveniently forgotten. I am going to treat it as a challenge to be met daily. Three times now, I have slogged to get to where I want to be physically, and then sat back and watched it all go down the drain. Well, not anymore! It is so easy to fall down the fitness ladder, so easy to lose motivation and conditioning. You literally don't have to do anything. And yet, the climb back to where you once where is so hard
If ever you have to keep moving to stand still, this is it. Think of this when you are tempted to bag a run, or skip a workout - it really hurts on the way back!
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Suckered!
It all started with a simple voice message from an acquaintance, related to a (former?) close friend of my wife's.
"There is going to be a seminar in your neighbourhood. We are doing some very innovative things in Vancouver, and I think you would really benefit from attending this little seminar, being held Sunday morning at 11." the message said. Being of the polite disposition, I called this acquaintance back who told me that his Business Partner (TM) was currently visiting Vancouver, and that it would be great if I could attend this seminar of his. I was very unsure about this business, and I asked him what exactly this seminar was about. He replied "We help people setup independent businesses on a royalty basis". Sound familiar? I have been a little removed from this kind of ambiguous terminology and I didn't quite clue in on what it was all about. I think we were a bit apprehensive of offending my wife's friend and decided to go without fully comprehending what this "business" was all about. Surely this wasn't a company developing software, which is what we might benefit from?!
We left around 10.30a, and as if the gods were sending us a message, we got lost. We were late, and expected to have to find some seating in the back of the room. We had missed the meat of the presentation! We drove around, and finally found the place around 11.35a after buying a map. The "seminar" location itself was another red flag. A seminar in a dingy looking house in Vancouver? Hmm... something is amiss here. My wife Raji took one good look at the house and wanted to bail. But I was afraid that somebody would have actually seen us coming, and we would alienate our friend if we pretended to just walk away.
On the front lawn of this house, we were very warmly greeted by "Yogesh", who we had no clue about. We had no chance of escape now! We were led to a dingy looking basement with a little 3x4 white board mounted on a stand, and 4 chairs. The person who we were supposed to meet was Mr. Suraj; the moment I laid my eyes on him, I knew who he was. My junior from College! This was Suraj Prakash Bathija, who was an exceptionally smart man who routinely topped our University in courses. Of all the places to meet someone who you haven't seen in over 11 years! We met his wife and little kid. After our initial introductions, we settled down into our chairs to see what this "seminar" was all about. There was one other person in the room apart from Yogesh, who thankfully we weren't introduced to.
I noticed right away that this basement had an unwholesome odour about it. It reeked of urine combined with sewage, which is right next to incense on the odour-likeability scale. NOT! Well, we were in it now; goddamn it. The presenter used the word "opportunity" too many times and asked us what we would do if we had extra income. The size and feel of this seminar combined with all the different things amiss finally made me realize what I had gotten myself into! I had been suckered into attending an Amway meeting!
Several things were thrown around: "Private Franchising", referring people, setting up "legs", commissions, buying products, diamonds, platinums, double-diamonds, numbers to whose authenticity we had no clue about and lots of promises about how we could make tons of money by buying everything from Quixtar. We asked the presenter if this was an Amway-style operation, and were repeatedly told that this was the furthest thing from Amway, and yet 2 seconds later this guy would explain Amway's frrrrreaking business model. ARRRRGH! I started devising ways of walking out of this meeting, but was too polite to actually execute any of them. I stopped paying attention after about 15 minutes. I should have just stood up, said "Please don't waste my time and yours. You will never win me over", and then just walked out.
Raji and I repeatedly shot glances at each other. This wasn't a stupid software business opportunity; this was a good-old Amway-style marketing Spiel! I had adroitly avoided going to one of these stupid meetings in all these years and I had been suckered after 11 years. DAMN! DAMN!! And that too in a stupid crap-smelling room! God. This couldn't possibly get any worse.
At the end of the presentation, we were given material, and CDs. I took the papers, but refused the CD. Suraj's face went dark, and Raji noticing this took the CDs not wanting to offend him. I was past caring. I am used to wearing my heart on my sleeve and feel no reason to be nice to someone who had snookered us into attending this meeting. We had ourselves to blame - we had ignored several important red flags raised during this little "experience". First of all, the guy who I talked to wouldn't tell me anything more other than B.S. Secondly, my wife's friend didn't give us any details about this "opportunity". Thirdly, the "seminar" was in the stupid basement of a house, which reeked of crap. The only saving grace was the fact that these guys haven't been as pushy as the Amway guys. They only wanted to proceed if there was mutual interest on both sides.
I was deeply offended and so was Raji. What a pathetic morning to have! We both cursed all those involved in this in the most colorful of language. I swore to yell at my wife's friend the next time I saw her. She had behaved in the most undesirable of ways.
I guess sometimes it is better to be rude than to look like an idiot. Cheat me once, shame on you! Cheat me twice, shame on ME!
"There is going to be a seminar in your neighbourhood. We are doing some very innovative things in Vancouver, and I think you would really benefit from attending this little seminar, being held Sunday morning at 11." the message said. Being of the polite disposition, I called this acquaintance back who told me that his Business Partner (TM) was currently visiting Vancouver, and that it would be great if I could attend this seminar of his. I was very unsure about this business, and I asked him what exactly this seminar was about. He replied "We help people setup independent businesses on a royalty basis". Sound familiar? I have been a little removed from this kind of ambiguous terminology and I didn't quite clue in on what it was all about. I think we were a bit apprehensive of offending my wife's friend and decided to go without fully comprehending what this "business" was all about. Surely this wasn't a company developing software, which is what we might benefit from?!
We left around 10.30a, and as if the gods were sending us a message, we got lost. We were late, and expected to have to find some seating in the back of the room. We had missed the meat of the presentation! We drove around, and finally found the place around 11.35a after buying a map. The "seminar" location itself was another red flag. A seminar in a dingy looking house in Vancouver? Hmm... something is amiss here. My wife Raji took one good look at the house and wanted to bail. But I was afraid that somebody would have actually seen us coming, and we would alienate our friend if we pretended to just walk away.
On the front lawn of this house, we were very warmly greeted by "Yogesh", who we had no clue about. We had no chance of escape now! We were led to a dingy looking basement with a little 3x4 white board mounted on a stand, and 4 chairs. The person who we were supposed to meet was Mr. Suraj; the moment I laid my eyes on him, I knew who he was. My junior from College! This was Suraj Prakash Bathija, who was an exceptionally smart man who routinely topped our University in courses. Of all the places to meet someone who you haven't seen in over 11 years! We met his wife and little kid. After our initial introductions, we settled down into our chairs to see what this "seminar" was all about. There was one other person in the room apart from Yogesh, who thankfully we weren't introduced to.
I noticed right away that this basement had an unwholesome odour about it. It reeked of urine combined with sewage, which is right next to incense on the odour-likeability scale. NOT! Well, we were in it now; goddamn it. The presenter used the word "opportunity" too many times and asked us what we would do if we had extra income. The size and feel of this seminar combined with all the different things amiss finally made me realize what I had gotten myself into! I had been suckered into attending an Amway meeting!
Several things were thrown around: "Private Franchising", referring people, setting up "legs", commissions, buying products, diamonds, platinums, double-diamonds, numbers to whose authenticity we had no clue about and lots of promises about how we could make tons of money by buying everything from Quixtar. We asked the presenter if this was an Amway-style operation, and were repeatedly told that this was the furthest thing from Amway, and yet 2 seconds later this guy would explain Amway's frrrrreaking business model. ARRRRGH! I started devising ways of walking out of this meeting, but was too polite to actually execute any of them. I stopped paying attention after about 15 minutes. I should have just stood up, said "Please don't waste my time and yours. You will never win me over", and then just walked out.
Raji and I repeatedly shot glances at each other. This wasn't a stupid software business opportunity; this was a good-old Amway-style marketing Spiel! I had adroitly avoided going to one of these stupid meetings in all these years and I had been suckered after 11 years. DAMN! DAMN!! And that too in a stupid crap-smelling room! God. This couldn't possibly get any worse.
At the end of the presentation, we were given material, and CDs. I took the papers, but refused the CD. Suraj's face went dark, and Raji noticing this took the CDs not wanting to offend him. I was past caring. I am used to wearing my heart on my sleeve and feel no reason to be nice to someone who had snookered us into attending this meeting. We had ourselves to blame - we had ignored several important red flags raised during this little "experience". First of all, the guy who I talked to wouldn't tell me anything more other than B.S. Secondly, my wife's friend didn't give us any details about this "opportunity". Thirdly, the "seminar" was in the stupid basement of a house, which reeked of crap. The only saving grace was the fact that these guys haven't been as pushy as the Amway guys. They only wanted to proceed if there was mutual interest on both sides.
I was deeply offended and so was Raji. What a pathetic morning to have! We both cursed all those involved in this in the most colorful of language. I swore to yell at my wife's friend the next time I saw her. She had behaved in the most undesirable of ways.
I guess sometimes it is better to be rude than to look like an idiot. Cheat me once, shame on you! Cheat me twice, shame on ME!
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
My beef with Baby Showers
I was standing in the lunch room, lost oh-so-wonderfully in making my afternoon cup of coffee , when my reverie was rudely interrupted by our company accounts maven. Normally, she would enter the lunch room and go about her business, exchanging nary a word with anyone already present.
"Hello Narayan," she said in greeting. "Hi," I said, giving her a smile that told her I knew she had something more to say. She lazily poured her coffee and delivered the meaning of the word "blindsided": "So, when are you gonna have a baby?" she asked, with a certain evil stress on the word you, which conveyed the idea that I was long overdue.
My reaction to such questions is usually exactly the opposite of what I am feeling inside - unrestrained anger. "Not anytime soon," I said, fully realizing that I cannot lash out at this moment against this woman, despite it being fully deserved. The woman would not quit when she was ahead. She asked "Why not?". I hate the "Why not?" question more than I hate the "How come?" question.
Normally, a colleague would have no grounds to ask such personal questions, at least in North America, where privacy and individuality are both guarded with great zeal. But you see, my wife and I work for the same company, and she had just attended a "Surprise" baby shower (very similar in its surprise quotient as death is to the condemned). Apparently the discussion in the shower centered around who would next have a baby, and everybody teased my wife that she would be the one.
This is something that I really hate about baby showers. When a married-and-childless woman goes to one, it looks like all the women in the shower thrust that question on these poor unsuspecting souls, badgering them about having babies, which has very predictable results for their husbands. TROUBLE!
In my case, it wasn't trouble from my wife, but trouble from other women who went to the baby shower. What is the point? Why not concentrate on the one going to have the baby, rather than all those who don't have one yet? Talk about wasted time and breath. I had three women walk up to me and ask if Raji was the one going to have a baby next. One woman even had the audacity to insist, let alone suggest, that I "should" have children and that my life is incomplete without one.
First of all, it's intensely personal and none of their business.
I have had it with all these well meaning people. Next time, the kid gloves are OFF.
"Hello Narayan," she said in greeting. "Hi," I said, giving her a smile that told her I knew she had something more to say. She lazily poured her coffee and delivered the meaning of the word "blindsided": "So, when are you gonna have a baby?" she asked, with a certain evil stress on the word you, which conveyed the idea that I was long overdue.
My reaction to such questions is usually exactly the opposite of what I am feeling inside - unrestrained anger. "Not anytime soon," I said, fully realizing that I cannot lash out at this moment against this woman, despite it being fully deserved. The woman would not quit when she was ahead. She asked "Why not?". I hate the "Why not?" question more than I hate the "How come?" question.
Normally, a colleague would have no grounds to ask such personal questions, at least in North America, where privacy and individuality are both guarded with great zeal. But you see, my wife and I work for the same company, and she had just attended a "Surprise" baby shower (very similar in its surprise quotient as death is to the condemned). Apparently the discussion in the shower centered around who would next have a baby, and everybody teased my wife that she would be the one.
This is something that I really hate about baby showers. When a married-and-childless woman goes to one, it looks like all the women in the shower thrust that question on these poor unsuspecting souls, badgering them about having babies, which has very predictable results for their husbands. TROUBLE!
In my case, it wasn't trouble from my wife, but trouble from other women who went to the baby shower. What is the point? Why not concentrate on the one going to have the baby, rather than all those who don't have one yet? Talk about wasted time and breath. I had three women walk up to me and ask if Raji was the one going to have a baby next. One woman even had the audacity to insist, let alone suggest, that I "should" have children and that my life is incomplete without one.
First of all, it's intensely personal and none of their business.
I have had it with all these well meaning people. Next time, the kid gloves are OFF.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Am I writing material?
I cannot believe that there are actually 2 people on Earth who think I am talented enough to write. Well, the only problem is that I haven't written anything since High school English composition (which they haven't actually seen). So, what could this opinion be based on? Talent evaluation is an art indeed and the aforementioned two are ill-qualified at it.
When do you decide someone is talented in a particular area? In my case, my Father-in-law wants me to write, completely based on my opinions on things and possession of a small degree of command of the English language. Is this justifiable? Does having an opinion - albeit strong - necessarily imply writing talent? I think not. Having an idea is one thing, and efficiently putting it down on paper is completely another. But one thing has been proven. A little encouragement can be a dangerous thing: I now want to write.
So, if I have something to say and want to put it down on paper, what should I do to do it well? Read about writing? But wouldn't that change how I write? Am I supposed to have my own style or shape my style based on others? I am caught between the horns of a dilemma; one faced by every single aspiring writer.
As a reader, I do have my own opinions of what constitutes good and bad writing, and I will write true to that opinion. For instance, I hate reading long, wordy, confusing sentences that will get an average reader nuts. I am not writing for the MENSA crowd; rather, I am writing for the average person who I want to reach. "The Portrait of a Lady" by Henry James comes to mind as one style that I will never ever follow.
Writing this blog is my way of taking the plunge. I think the secret is to write anyway, and have people critique it at different points in the game. My wife has started a blog for the express purpose of helping me along in this process. Three cheers to her for this :D
I joined the writingindia mailing list - which required writing a bio to get in :P - which will help me learn by doing exercises and watching the purveyors of the art showcase their wisdom. It seems to be full of people who have had their work published. Enough credentials to fill a room.
When do you decide someone is talented in a particular area? In my case, my Father-in-law wants me to write, completely based on my opinions on things and possession of a small degree of command of the English language. Is this justifiable? Does having an opinion - albeit strong - necessarily imply writing talent? I think not. Having an idea is one thing, and efficiently putting it down on paper is completely another. But one thing has been proven. A little encouragement can be a dangerous thing: I now want to write.
So, if I have something to say and want to put it down on paper, what should I do to do it well? Read about writing? But wouldn't that change how I write? Am I supposed to have my own style or shape my style based on others? I am caught between the horns of a dilemma; one faced by every single aspiring writer.
As a reader, I do have my own opinions of what constitutes good and bad writing, and I will write true to that opinion. For instance, I hate reading long, wordy, confusing sentences that will get an average reader nuts. I am not writing for the MENSA crowd; rather, I am writing for the average person who I want to reach. "The Portrait of a Lady" by Henry James comes to mind as one style that I will never ever follow.
Writing this blog is my way of taking the plunge. I think the secret is to write anyway, and have people critique it at different points in the game. My wife has started a blog for the express purpose of helping me along in this process. Three cheers to her for this :D
I joined the writingindia mailing list - which required writing a bio to get in :P - which will help me learn by doing exercises and watching the purveyors of the art showcase their wisdom. It seems to be full of people who have had their work published. Enough credentials to fill a room.
Monday, January 31, 2005
In a land of milk and honey...
Immigrants always face terrible dilemmas. On the one hand, they move to a new country to better themselves and allow themselves better opportunities, but their mind constantly dwells on what is back home, what price they are paying for the privilege of all the fine things their new home has brought them.
I am one such immigrant. The son of a welder-father and a headmistress-mother. My brother and I were always told the education was the only ticket to success, and that I had neither family prosperity nor ancestral wealth as a fall back option in case things didn't work out. I can remember a lot of Deepavali's where my parents got nothing for themselves in the way of new clothes, but my brother and I would have the best of clothes, and firecrackers to fill a warehouse. When I finished my baccalaureate education, I was encouraged to do whatever it takes to take the next step, either a Master's degree in some foreign institution or a work permit in the US. There was never ever a thought given to what I would be leaving behind.
I seized on that motivation, and left India shortly after my graduation, the proud recipient of my brother's kindness - and influence - in arranging for a work permit for me in the US. California, here I come, I thought. My parents, sent me on my way, tears in all our eyes, the heart burning with the sadness that comes with parting with two people who have been your everything in life. I have never felt such powerful emotion in my life.
But, leave I did. I landed in California, and apart from the odd visit to India, haven't spent any more than 6 months with my parents at any one stretch. I moved to Canada after I got married, partly to bring my parents over permanently, but my parents refused to come; after all, much of what they know and consider important is in India.
It is 10 years now since I left my hometown in search for top dollar and a better career, and I shudder to say, better environs. I have all, but I constantly wonder at what cost. How many times have my parents fallen sick and not told us about it? How many times have they felt our absence and cried over it? How many times did they have to ask somebody else for help, when they wouldn't have had to look anywhere if I had stayed back? I can only wonder...
As I sit on my recliner today, I reflect. I think about all those that are all those miles away, that are so dear to me. Those that shaped me, made me who I am, gave me the strength and the education to go out and make something out of myself, and I am miles away from them. Connected but by a stupid phone that works only 25% of the time, thanks in part to the wonderful efficiency of the Anna nagar Telephone exchange. I digress. I am constantly beset by thoughts of of how I have ditched my parents, of sucking the juice out of them and leaving them with nothing but their skins, of taking the best years of their life and giving nothing in return. My offers to come back are rejected quickly; so quickly that I am forced to question the seriousness of my own offers, when I cease to counter these rejections with more than a token fight.
An immigrants life is so rosy to everyone back home; "He has got it made", they say. They know not the anguish that courses through us, or the pain of paying such a huge price for our ambitions, our desires to have a better life for ourselves, or the embarassment of being so utterly selfish, or the self-beration that inevitably comes from leaving behind all that is known and trusted for a measly paycheck, and the constant self-examination about whether the price we are paying is really worth it. Some times I even wonder, why I even moved away?! If I had known nothing better, I would have stayed in Madras, near my parents, taking care of them. A fat bank account is overrated. Have mercy on us, dear relatives. Understand that the weight of our wallets is indicative of the weight of our hearts.
If all one eats is porridge, and then tastes Ice Cream, whose fault is it that Ice Cream wins out? I think the best thing I can do is go back and take care of them, when such a time comes that they cannot reject my offers anymore. That way, I can partly quiet my own demons. But until such time , I would have to bear them with a grin, Ice Cream cup in hand.
I am one such immigrant. The son of a welder-father and a headmistress-mother. My brother and I were always told the education was the only ticket to success, and that I had neither family prosperity nor ancestral wealth as a fall back option in case things didn't work out. I can remember a lot of Deepavali's where my parents got nothing for themselves in the way of new clothes, but my brother and I would have the best of clothes, and firecrackers to fill a warehouse. When I finished my baccalaureate education, I was encouraged to do whatever it takes to take the next step, either a Master's degree in some foreign institution or a work permit in the US. There was never ever a thought given to what I would be leaving behind.
I seized on that motivation, and left India shortly after my graduation, the proud recipient of my brother's kindness - and influence - in arranging for a work permit for me in the US. California, here I come, I thought. My parents, sent me on my way, tears in all our eyes, the heart burning with the sadness that comes with parting with two people who have been your everything in life. I have never felt such powerful emotion in my life.
But, leave I did. I landed in California, and apart from the odd visit to India, haven't spent any more than 6 months with my parents at any one stretch. I moved to Canada after I got married, partly to bring my parents over permanently, but my parents refused to come; after all, much of what they know and consider important is in India.
It is 10 years now since I left my hometown in search for top dollar and a better career, and I shudder to say, better environs. I have all, but I constantly wonder at what cost. How many times have my parents fallen sick and not told us about it? How many times have they felt our absence and cried over it? How many times did they have to ask somebody else for help, when they wouldn't have had to look anywhere if I had stayed back? I can only wonder...
As I sit on my recliner today, I reflect. I think about all those that are all those miles away, that are so dear to me. Those that shaped me, made me who I am, gave me the strength and the education to go out and make something out of myself, and I am miles away from them. Connected but by a stupid phone that works only 25% of the time, thanks in part to the wonderful efficiency of the Anna nagar Telephone exchange. I digress. I am constantly beset by thoughts of of how I have ditched my parents, of sucking the juice out of them and leaving them with nothing but their skins, of taking the best years of their life and giving nothing in return. My offers to come back are rejected quickly; so quickly that I am forced to question the seriousness of my own offers, when I cease to counter these rejections with more than a token fight.
An immigrants life is so rosy to everyone back home; "He has got it made", they say. They know not the anguish that courses through us, or the pain of paying such a huge price for our ambitions, our desires to have a better life for ourselves, or the embarassment of being so utterly selfish, or the self-beration that inevitably comes from leaving behind all that is known and trusted for a measly paycheck, and the constant self-examination about whether the price we are paying is really worth it. Some times I even wonder, why I even moved away?! If I had known nothing better, I would have stayed in Madras, near my parents, taking care of them. A fat bank account is overrated. Have mercy on us, dear relatives. Understand that the weight of our wallets is indicative of the weight of our hearts.
If all one eats is porridge, and then tastes Ice Cream, whose fault is it that Ice Cream wins out? I think the best thing I can do is go back and take care of them, when such a time comes that they cannot reject my offers anymore. That way, I can partly quiet my own demons. But until such time , I would have to bear them with a grin, Ice Cream cup in hand.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
Ladies and Gentlemen, thaw your brains
Why do people ordinarily so suspicious of everyone in their lives revere some religious institutions and follow some religious leaders with utter and complete devotion? What makes people follow these pied pipers in the mistaken belief that they are doing the "right" thing for the "good" cause?
We have had two Acharya's - Hindu religious leaders - of the Kanchi Mutt in South India, arrested for allegedly ordering the successful murder of a former Mutt Employee, Mr. Shankararaman. Their innocence or guilt is largely dependent upon who you ask and I for one, am in no hurry to dole out justice until I hear the Supreme Court of India weigh in with its opinion. The High Courts, sadly, have shown a tendency to be bought and / or pressured.
As is to be expected, considerable national attention is being focused on this matter, with the usual suspects, BJP, RSS, the Bajrang Dal and the VHP all up in arms demanding everything from immediate release of the Acharya's to the dissolution of the State Government.
In the midst of all this hoopla - largely unnoticed by the rest of the world - Anuradha Ramanan, a woman writer of some fame, came out and accused the senior of the two Acharyas of behaving "inappropriately" with her when she visited him at the mutt along with a friend of hers. Here is the kicker: the accusation was leveled 12 years after the fact.
The nature of the accusation has shocked many, but the delay has raised more than a few eyebrows. But, there seems to be a group of people, whose strongly held opinion it is that this woman has no right to even come out and accuse the Acharya's of anything as he is completely above board and beyond such things. Where is the justice in this? Where is the protection of a person’s rights in this? Would we behave this way if a daughter of ours accused the Acharya of such conduct?
Tamil Nadu tends to be mind-numbingly conservative, and a woman coming out about being sexually harassed is in itself a rare occurrence. She is inevitably subjected to public ridicule for having lost her “virtue” and harassed further with catcalls on the street. For a woman, coming out with such an accusation is a rather burdensome undertaking that requires serious guts to do. So, it is completely understandable that Ms. Ramanan waited for a long – some might say opportune - time to level her accusation. It only stands to reason that she might be taken more seriously if the integrity of the person she is accusing is already under question. Had she come out with this accusation right after the fact, most people would have called her everything from “heretic” to “slut”. Rather than make a mockery of her accusation by discrediting her, we should strive to seek the truth in such matters. May be we will learn something about these Acharyas / Fathers and / Imams, that we didn’t know about.
Blind faith is a terrible thing, and has been exposed rather cruelly several times in recent memory by such characters as “Kalki Bhagwan”, “Chaturvedy Samiyar" and Premananda. And yet, the average person plods on, firm in their belief that this is an aberration, and that the vast majority of such god men are messengers from the lord.
Blind faith leads to very poorly evolved societies. We should NOT perpetrate the mentality that has caused our politicians to get to where they have gotten, and the state of affairs to what they have become, which is, putrid. We have suffered enough from placing our blind trust in frivolous institutions and individuals. Now has come the time to question people and organizations and have them prove themselves before they are accorded trust and respect. As a society, we must continuously monitor the situation, for such trust and respect should not be granted permanently, but rather as a credential that may be yanked at any time. You are only as good as your last behavior/action/word.
Wondering what set off this rant?! There is this site created by devotees of these Acharya's called Kanchi forum, which I will not glorify by giving you its URL, whose administrators delete every single post that is not in line with the "Acharya's are innocent and their Accusers are all morons" idea. One website does not indicate a social trend, you say?!
I humbly submit that the vast majority of people think this way; that the institution must be protected at all costs, and begin circling the wagons at the earliest opportunity.This is extremely intellectually immature, as it stunts dissension and encourages the construction of institutions and individuals that don’t deserve the trust and respect accorded to them.
Seems like a thawing of some brains is in order.
Friday, January 28, 2005
Babysitting Murray
I found out this morning that I am going to be babysitting my colleague Elliot's dog Murray, a really really cute English Cocker Spaniel puppy for a few hours tomorrow. I love dogs - of a few kinds - and fortunately for me, I love his ilk. I am so excited to do this. I do want a dog of my own, though Raji has some pretty strong - and clinching - arguments against them.
Pets as a whole, to people like me, are wonderful things. As much as I agree with Animal rights activists who say that keeping Pets is wrong - for a myriad of reasons that I won't get into - they still tug at my heart. Dogs are wonderful beings, providing unconditional love to us, lowering our blood pressure and relaxing us with their undemanding (for the most part) presence. Cats, on the other hand, behave as though you are fortunate to have them. I love cats as well, by the way.
There was a time when I was mortally scared of most dogs, but now I have mostly grown up. I still loathe Rotties, Pit Bulls, Bull Terriers and all intimidating dogs in general, but I love puppies. They aren't too bad at that age, much like children, who can bowl you over with one look or action.
Maybe I ought to tell Raji that we ought to first get a dog, and then if I really like the experience and can be responsible enough to be a "Father" to a doggie, we can start that family that she has been talking about.
At least, it's not to buy a silly SUV. :D
Pets as a whole, to people like me, are wonderful things. As much as I agree with Animal rights activists who say that keeping Pets is wrong - for a myriad of reasons that I won't get into - they still tug at my heart. Dogs are wonderful beings, providing unconditional love to us, lowering our blood pressure and relaxing us with their undemanding (for the most part) presence. Cats, on the other hand, behave as though you are fortunate to have them. I love cats as well, by the way.
There was a time when I was mortally scared of most dogs, but now I have mostly grown up. I still loathe Rotties, Pit Bulls, Bull Terriers and all intimidating dogs in general, but I love puppies. They aren't too bad at that age, much like children, who can bowl you over with one look or action.
Maybe I ought to tell Raji that we ought to first get a dog, and then if I really like the experience and can be responsible enough to be a "Father" to a doggie, we can start that family that she has been talking about.
At least, it's not to buy a silly SUV. :D
Thursday, January 27, 2005
My parents' prayers answered... decades later.
I have to wear a mouthguard to stop gnashing my teeth at night, which would prevent my teeth from being completely ground away. I have been using it for about a week or so now. I find that I do not wake up in the middle of the night gnashing my teeth anymore. So, it works. That's the good news.
It is so hard to go to sleep with this thing on. I guess I will have to put it on around 11p or so and sleep when I can. However, I then can't talk, because this stupid thing is like a vise on my upper teeth. But I guess it's the one thing that my parents and relatives wanted badly when I was in India. My nick then?! Chatterbox., :)
Check out my SO's blog: http://writermanque.blogspot.com. And don't ask me what manque means. :D
It is so hard to go to sleep with this thing on. I guess I will have to put it on around 11p or so and sleep when I can. However, I then can't talk, because this stupid thing is like a vise on my upper teeth. But I guess it's the one thing that my parents and relatives wanted badly when I was in India. My nick then?! Chatterbox., :)
Check out my SO's blog: http://writermanque.blogspot.com. And don't ask me what manque means. :D
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Hard earned lessons...
Ran for about 50 minutes yesterday. Ran for 3, walked for 2, 10 times, and my left shin started killing me after about the 6th rep. So, I completed the rest of the workout in pain. Everytime I am in good running shape (twice now), I vow not to stop, because it is so hard to get to where I was. And then, just like that, something happens (get laid off etc etc), I completely lose motivation and lose all that hard-earned fitness. This becomes obvious only during the long climb back to some kind of running shape.
For me running shape is defined as the ability to do a half-marathon at the drop of a hat. This time around, I swear to take it slow, not overdo it and progress in stages. By stages I mean, I will first do 10Ks and when I am decent at it, I will start training for a half. I would really like to start running marathons again.
TV is a time sucker. Duh! I have noticed that the more I watch TV, the less time I have for other stuff. I sleep later at night, wakeup exhausted, and constantly suffer because of my habits. I don't read much, all my chores stagnate, and I become terrible. Time to change them. Easier said than done?
For me running shape is defined as the ability to do a half-marathon at the drop of a hat. This time around, I swear to take it slow, not overdo it and progress in stages. By stages I mean, I will first do 10Ks and when I am decent at it, I will start training for a half. I would really like to start running marathons again.
TV is a time sucker. Duh! I have noticed that the more I watch TV, the less time I have for other stuff. I sleep later at night, wakeup exhausted, and constantly suffer because of my habits. I don't read much, all my chores stagnate, and I become terrible. Time to change them. Easier said than done?
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Close, but no Cigar
Well, now that I have made a single mistake in Hindu xWord 2590, I am now working on the London Sunday Times xWord, that Rhona introduced me to. I have done a few now, far more than what I used to pull off on my own when I worked with her.
Sad News: My father-in-law's visit ended today afternoon. He is actually one of those F-I-L's that makes one miss him. :D He is off to NY now.
Another earthquake rocked Madras (yes, I am stubborn). I wonder what would happen if a BIG one hit? All of South India is cement/brick based construction. Loss of life would be quite terrible. I guess we will cross that bridge when we get there.
Writing a few articles now. Impetus came from F-I-L.
Reading Thuglak now. The cartoon on the latest one was Unbelievable. Vintage Cho.
Sad News: My father-in-law's visit ended today afternoon. He is actually one of those F-I-L's that makes one miss him. :D He is off to NY now.
Another earthquake rocked Madras (yes, I am stubborn). I wonder what would happen if a BIG one hit? All of South India is cement/brick based construction. Loss of life would be quite terrible. I guess we will cross that bridge when we get there.
Writing a few articles now. Impetus came from F-I-L.
Reading Thuglak now. The cartoon on the latest one was Unbelievable. Vintage Cho.
Monday, January 24, 2005
Some days I am Hot! Some days I am NOT!
Excellent Progress on Hindu Crossword 2590
Got everything almost on my own, with the notable exception of 2d, which is Ruritania. How, I know not!
Well, I can explain most of the clues, but some of them are just pattern matches (such as my own answer for 2d which was Rarotonga).
15d had no indication as to being complete (it was missing wwrd count and length info). But thanks to my genius, I figured that out as well.
Got everything almost on my own, with the notable exception of 2d, which is Ruritania. How, I know not!
Well, I can explain most of the clues, but some of them are just pattern matches (such as my own answer for 2d which was Rarotonga).
15d had no indication as to being complete (it was missing wwrd count and length info). But thanks to my genius, I figured that out as well.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
It's been awfully silent in here...
Long time no post... But if a tree falls in the forest... :D I am thinking no one is listening.
Well, had a fab birthday for starters. Lots of gifts. Mostly from the have-to-love-me department. My parents sent me clothes, and none of them fit (too big!!). THE SO presented me with the Completely LOTR Special Extended Edition DVD's and a copy of "Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen.
Well, our TV sucks. So we went out and bought a sound system. Even my father-in-law likes it. Denon AVR-1905 receiver, Paradigm Semi-bookshelf speakers and a sub-woofer. Pretty good. The guy below hasn't complained (yet!) about it. Classic case of the tail wagging the dog.
The purchases kept stacking up. We had to go buy a new Entertainment Center. :) Next up, Kick-Ass TV.
Had a very usual New Years.
I keep getting started on things and then refuse to start them. One of my latest daydreams is to be a columnist for some magazine; the column would be about life, its vagaries, the fine things etc etc... How's that for pie in the sky?
New words learnt? Borked. Kibosh.
Lots of books to read, techinical and otherwise. Cannot for the life of me, finish this history book that I am reading.
Being having some decent success doing The Hindu Sunday and regular crosswords. Raji is kicking my hiney still.
Gotta go. Gotta think of a column idea. ;)
Well, had a fab birthday for starters. Lots of gifts. Mostly from the have-to-love-me department. My parents sent me clothes, and none of them fit (too big!!). THE SO presented me with the Completely LOTR Special Extended Edition DVD's and a copy of "Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen.
Well, our TV sucks. So we went out and bought a sound system. Even my father-in-law likes it. Denon AVR-1905 receiver, Paradigm Semi-bookshelf speakers and a sub-woofer. Pretty good. The guy below hasn't complained (yet!) about it. Classic case of the tail wagging the dog.
The purchases kept stacking up. We had to go buy a new Entertainment Center. :) Next up, Kick-Ass TV.
Had a very usual New Years.
I keep getting started on things and then refuse to start them. One of my latest daydreams is to be a columnist for some magazine; the column would be about life, its vagaries, the fine things etc etc... How's that for pie in the sky?
New words learnt? Borked. Kibosh.
Lots of books to read, techinical and otherwise. Cannot for the life of me, finish this history book that I am reading.
Being having some decent success doing The Hindu Sunday and regular crosswords. Raji is kicking my hiney still.
Gotta go. Gotta think of a column idea. ;)
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