Monday, December 25, 2006

Of Exams and Earworms

Before I start off barking about on how good(or bad) my exams went, I must first thank two characters that frequent the stone benches on the ground floor in our college. They are Arun M and Raja Deepak. They were of a great help in the days before each exam. I spent a lot of hours on the phone with them while they patiently explained the nuances of such things like microprocessor programming and query processing and the design of Turing Machines. Of course I raked up a huge bill, but thats a different story altogether.

Now let me start barking proper. I have a huge problem with earworms. A lot of people do have it, I know, but mine is especially bad considering the songs that get stuck in my head. In case you didnt know, or hadnt deduced by now, an earworm is a song that gets stuck in your head and repeats itself over and over annoyingly. How wonderful it would be if earworms would be something soothing, or good to hear. How nice would it be to get something like Hotel California or Yanni stuck in your head. I get the Hotel California stuck in my head only when I try to remember what my usual earworm is!! Talking about my usual earworm, it happens to be a pure dappankuthu song (composed by Deva obviously) from the film Bhagavathi. Its the Coca-Cola brown colour da tune. It happens to me so often that I am playing heavy metal now on full volume, despite it being 1:30 in the night, scared that I might get it.

Earworms are especially irritating during exams. During our practicals, I went in to pick up a sheet before the DBMS thing and suddenly the song started off ominously. Coca-Cola brown colour da, yaen akka ponnum adhey colour da. Sitting down in my place the I hear the song continuing, Coffee la bunna amukku da, andha combination romba dhool da. I write queries access tables, and the song continues full blast, Ayyo jillunu en allu patha da... I am at my wits end. Somehow I manage to finish everything off without mishap, and go and sit for the viva. The external was a woman wearing a green sari. She asked me to sit down and looked at me for a couple of seconds. The song which had been on pause for some time started off on a different stanza, Hey paccha podavai othu pakkudhu.
"What are the ACID properties?", she asked. I look at my own internal, a guy in his thirties, sitting next to her. The song continues. Purushan kooda irundhum enna pakkudhu, machi machi machi.
"The ACID properties are.. um.. "Podaango, podaango...

I managed to grin my way out of the viva. The next two practicals too were of the same case, with me struggling with programs, vivas, and earworms.

Ten or so days later, we had to take our theory exams. Ten days I'd wasted playing cricket and now I started to regret. First exam was DBMS. I looked at the question paper, and I knew I would clear it. I finished it off, of course with the song playing in the background. Same was the case with the networks exam. The third exam was something called Theory of Computation. It primarily deals with the work of one Mr.Alan Mathison Turing in an obscure field where mathematicians work with computer engineers to produce a race of super-boring people. Turing, I noticed with some glee, had been arrested for being a homosexual. Serves him right. Two days before the exam, we went off to play cricket. The only thing worth mentioning about this piece of absolute irresponsibility happens to be that I managed to hit a rasping square drive of the bowling of Vinod, one of the fastest ever, with all the elegance of Rahul Dravid. I reached the highest point of my life. One-fourth of a second later, Seshu casually bent down to pick up the ball, and I was caught out. I reached the lowest point of my life. The syllabus of TOC being what it was, I purchased two books at the last minute, and fell asleep with three books propped open in front of me. I went to the exam hall, and suddenly found that my brain had bought woofer speakers to enhance my earworm.

Next exam was something called Microprocessors and Microcontrollers, affectionately called Mu.P. Why someone would regard a microprocessor with any affection still remains a mystery though. I wrote the exam well, though I screwed up on an essay question. The next exam was called Discrete Mathematics. This paper was suppossedly easy, as it was a combination of binary manipulation, modern algebra, and a whole lot of other general mish-mash that we had all suppossedly come across before. I sweated the exam out, and came out feeling absolutely rotten. Last exam was something called Principles of Management. I spent the whole of the three days playing cricket, and when I opened the book at 6 pm the day before, I realized much to my horror that I'd underestimated the whole thing. Frantically, I mugged up the important bits, only to be told the next morning that they were all not in the syllabus. I wrote whatever I could think of that any self respecting manager would do, and managed to fill up thirty odd pages of total nonsense. Deva of course kept me company with his "exhilarating" tunes.

Ten days have passed since. They have gone in a complete blur. I have no idea what I have done or what I proposed to do. The rest of the holidays, I am sure are going to run out in the same way. Oh, and its Christmas now. Merry Christmas.

Yours earwormially,
Sundar.
WIYOATS!!

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Orkutting and groundnutting

There happens to be an online social networking service that was created by a turkish software engineer in his free time while others were socially networking offline. This could have been the end of the story had it not been for equally jobless Brazilians and Indians who decided to give an absolutely useless service a big boost while they could have done as well without it.

Now orkut claims it helps you socialize, make new acquaintances and find others who share your interests. What it does not claim is that it has the tendancy to irritate you to the core. Now, orkut is pretty fast unlike an earlier service called hi5 which could drive you up the wall with its excruciatingly slow interface. That's why orkut has attained considerable popularity despite coming with a light blue interface that cause your eyes to water.

Here are some of the "purposeful" things you could do as an active member of orkut.

1. Chat with Raja Deepak. This is one horrendous pastime. If you are weak of heart, please stay away. He can drive you nuts with his comprehension of everything you say. His view of life in general tends to be garbled, as he rarely talks about anything other than orkut and all the potential girlfriends you could have.

2. Chat with anyone else. Preferrably with members of the opposite sex. Have a good time, but once again dont let Raja Deepak see your scrapbook. He will most probably throw a fit.

3. Profile surfing. Now that is one easy and very entertaining activity you could do. You choose one friend at random from all your friends, and then systematically read the profiles of all the girls in his list. What screws you up is that none of the promising girls ever put up their photos.

4. Communities and the rest. You join up a load of communities and never give any of them a second thought. Hmm.. except those that offer links to porn videos. But that apart, all people ever do is receive massive numbers of junk mails in portuguese. I still havent figured out the meaning of "Opa tudo bom?" a message I must have received a million times.

5. Forward junk mail. This is a highly profitable business. I recommend you resign your job and take this up. I mean, who is going to satisfy the wants of the teeming masses of people who want to read about the thirteen symptoms of love, the kindness of Mother Theresa, or whether Shane Bond has three balls? And, oh yes there are the omnipresent offers to make money from home- by reading junk mail. I told you to resign your job didn't I?

Well, these are the things you can do, but first you have to edit your own profile. All you have to do is put up your name, (or anyone else's) or a caption (I still am reeling from "Life is a paramelody" that Raja Deepak managed to put up some time ago), and a photo. If you are a girl, put up something girly (yucky) like photos of Barbie, rather than your own photo, because that seems to be the socially accepted norm. Then write a couple of lines about yourself (once again Raja Deepak stunned people by suggesting that paramelodies start with 'A' and end with 'Z'. And I thought only the English alphabet could exhibit such behaviour). Once you have done all that write about what turns you on, what turns you off, whether you have pierced your navel, and what one would tend to find in your bedroom apart from yourself. Having done that you go and configure your crush list. Pick the girl you have always had a soft corner for (but who would never give you a second thought) and add her to your cruh list. If the female in question adds you to her crush list as well, orkut will take you one step closer to holy matrimony by sending you a message which you'd most probably delete the next morning among the scores of junk mail you get each day.

Hey presto, you are a seasoned user of orkut. You have ruined your life, choked up your nation's bandwidth, and increased the number(power) of your spectacles.

The only advantages to orkut are that you can learn portuguese swear words, and of course popularize your blog. Now leave a comment and get back to orkut.

Yours paramelodiously,
Sundar.
WIYOATS.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Kodai Chronicles.. suppossed to be part two.. but winding up.

A Long time ago in a galaxy far, far away we guys went on a tour. Since then a lot has happened including people forgetting that this blog still exists. Unbeknownst to them, the naysayers, this blog has been raking up astronomical numbers of hits from all over the world. Its author has been given the world media and in evading the imperial papparazzi this man and his faithful group of freedom seekers have been chased half-way across the galaxy. His driver however had the uncommon ability to keep his eyes open (which is a rarity among drivers of high profile people) and they did NOT crash into walls of the trans-dimensional warp-hole they jumped into.

I am going to jump ahead to the conclusion now. The last line of my suppossedly superb essay on the tour is as follows. "So, what have I gained from this tour? Apart from developing a liking for vodka, nothing else." This line was going to be a dramatic finale to a swashbuckling essay. This however was not to be because the swashbuckling essay in question was never really put down on either paper or on the random access memory of my computer.

Please dont judge the success of the whole thing from my apparently sarcastic last line. This line was put up just for effect, or "kicks" as some would put it. If you want the exact description of the tour, please ask me in person and I will say that I'll tell you later, upon which you're suppossed to grunt your assent. If however you need a blow-by-blow account of the whole thing, ask Raja Deepak, who will tell you everything with the right amount of exaggerations thrown in.

Will try and post something worth the while.

Bye
WIYOATS.
Sundar.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

Kodai Chronicles

The semester had begun and things had settled down and things were starting to get boring when rumours started flying around that we would be going for tour. With time, rumour became reality and we found that we would be going on an "educational" tour to two places Kodaikanal and Munnar. Organized with exemplary "precision" by Venkat, Ram, and Siva, in the end it was deemed a "grand success". The fees for the whole affair was never really fixed, what with people making last minute changes to the schedule, the principal butting his head in to find fault and exert his non-existent authority, and students bringing wrong amounts and begging for some with their friends.

On the first day, we went by the Vaigai express, a pretty uneventful journey, and reached Dindigul by evening. It was here that news reached us that Anna University had released the results for the previous semester. Raja Deepak managed to get a good friend of his to call him long-distance all the way from home and recited everyone's number to him over the phone, while the good (or bad, depending on what news he said) samaritan raked up a huge phone bill. Barath however was insistent that he be not told the results. News spread like wildfire, and soon Raja was surrounded by a gang of giggling second year girls wanting to know how they'd fared (Much to certain people's consternation). He finally managed to extricate himself and we made for the waiting van. The van stopped at a small restaurant just about to close and we had a hasty couple of Dosas, before the long ascent into the mountains. The van had a cassette player, but played it at 1.5x speed, resulting in terrible music becoming terribler.

We reached Kodaikanal in the wee hours of the morning and stood shivering while the rooms were being allocated. We found ourselves crammed into rooms that had absolutely nothing worthwhile. Everyone decided it was time to party, and got out the bottles. Soon everyone was pretty intoxicated, Raja and me being exceptions, having only sipped a little each. This went on to give us all a few comic incidents, which I do not know would be alright to mention. We went out for a walk and came back to sleep in the morning, while everyone else was waking up. We were supposed to have started off by eight, but we only woke up at ten and well it was very funny.

First we went to a totally useless place called the Coaker's walk. It was a kilometre long stretch and was suppossed to give you a breathtaking view of Kodaikanal (with shops selling odds and ends at breathtaking prices), but the fog was so thick we were not able to see beyond our nose and had to make do with looking at all the shops. At one place a guy was making a fast buck writing people's girlfriends' names on a grain of rice and putting it in a small container of water. Raja got his inscribed with you know who's (or you dont know who) name and gave it to me for safe keeping. We spent an obscenely long time there, while the other van consisting of the other class guys had long gone.

We got into the van and made our way towards the Guna caves, after a completely boring stop at some place called the pine forest. We went through the broken barriers that were supposed to prevent people from getting across and killing themselves. We jumped across two-hundred feet deep ravines and went to a really high over-hanging cliff. I went to the edge and peered down and saw the sky. I was able to see nothing but clouds, but they were all below us. It was a dizzy experience, which can happen to you if you lose track of the position of the horizon.

Well I have described to you approx twenty-four hours worth of the tour till now. I will do the rest in the next post. I would have done it all in one post, but you most probably wouldnt have cared to read so long a post and would have gotten away with a "Nice post man" comment or something like that.

Bowing out.
Sundar
WIYOATS.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

WOW!!

www.shaastra.org

Amazing... especially enjoyed the introduction and the ignobel prizes section!!

WIYOATS.

Saturday, July 01, 2006

0 0 1/7 ---- Licenced to drive.

A lot of you might be valid licence holders and may find this description of my experience in getting a licence a bit of a bore but please put up with me as I have absolutely nothing else to tell you about, but want to keep this blog active. The day began with me going off to my last driving class at six in the morning, which happens to be mid-night by my standards. I managed to make the car buck around and my instructor repeatedly slapped his head and progressively became more and more morose. Vinod drove well and we went home. We had planned to meet at the railway station at quarter to eight which I was late for by nearly twenty minutes (as usual).

We reached the venue a crowded train and a costly auto trip later and found we were just on time. The instructors and us all went off to the ground were you have to demonstrate your ability in tracing the legedary eight on the ground using a 100cc vehicle all the while performing acrobatics with one of your hands. It was here that Vinod found out that instead of filling his form out for both the Motor-Cycle and Car categories, the driving school had screwed up and had filled out for only one. (We were not allowed to fill them out. We only put our signature on it). He was positively furious and became extremely quiet as he usually does at such times. He was told he could take his licence the next week.

I however had the go-ahead and went and perched myself near the driving school's battered Kinetic Honda. The candidates were called upon one by one and all of them managed to trace the figure of eight. Some of them of course placed their feet on the ground, and were told to get lost by the instructors. Others made spectacular crashes and got lost by themselves. I managed to trace the requisite eight alright and was later told I had passed. Next, it was time to do the car test.

Our driving school had two cars, a Maruti 800 and an Indica. There was one other driving school which had two different cars and seventeen candidates, who were accommodated in a Maruti Omni van. The inspector would sit in the car and the guys who wanted a licence would one by one drive the car and try and tolerate the jibes of the inspector as well as they could. Some drove well, some not so well and others terribly. The guy who took the test before me managed to get the car to go off after a tremendous jerk that had a nearby goatherd running for life. Second time around he nearly hit a passing old woman who of course was irresolutely unperturbed. Another guy drove real slow and beautiful -in the fast lane. Both were unceremoniously disqualified. When it was my turn to drive, I released the clutch, the car started off smooth as a baby's bottom and I was the picture of the perfect driver, much to my own surprise. The instructor did not say a single word, which was loads of praise coming from him. We then thought we'd head back to the RTO office, but he asked our instructor to drive into the airport.

As we entered the airport, each security guard was silenced with a single word, "RTO", and we were allowed to pass without much ado. Pretty soon our instructor was happily basking in reflected glory and would say "RTO" at every Tom, Dick and Harry who'd care to look at us. The inspector asked our instructor to drive in the wrong way through a gate and block a luxury bus. I tell you this stuff seemed to be a scene straight out of a Vijaykant movie. Our instructor was a straight impression of Vijaykant while I was trying to keep my face straight. Our instructor honked at the bus and the guy inside got out. He walked over to our inspector's side and handed him a paper. Our inspector looked at it and asked him where he'd be in three days time. To this he said he'd be in the interior of Kerala. Our inspector looked at him quizzically and something to the effect that the long arm of the law would catch up with him yet. The guy in question smiled a "catch me if you can" smile and sauntered off. Our inspector grinned a weary grin and told our over-eager driver to head back. We returned and needed to have our photos taken. We waited in the stinking corridors and by the time I had my photo taken I was sweating like a pig. A wait of two hours later the licences were distributed stapled to the original application form and we were to sign it. Typically my address was wrong. I went and asked them to correct it in three places. Another hour later it came back -with only one change. Too disgusted with the whole situation, I decided enough was enough. I signed it and gave it back for counter-signature. I did not give the lady-clerk a flying kiss as my instructor told me to. I am not mad. I whoozed out back into the corridor and my instructor asked me if I'd given her a flying kiss. I told him she refused to accept it from me and would only accept it from him. He guffawed and drowned out my good-byes.

Walking back to the railway station alone (Vinod had long since left) I decided the whole system was as inefficient as it could get and spent a few moments happily abusing the government of India in general. I decided to take a drink, paid for it, but forgot to take the change. I walked ahead a few steps and then came running back for it. The store owner gave me a grin and I made a complicated wave of my hand that would most definetly have cleared things up and got the change. This was totally uncharacteristic of me and was the clincher. The whole day had gone rotten. Heck, watch-out people, I'm coming to terrify you on the road.

Yours traffically,
Sundar.

WIYOATS.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Insert appropriate title here... cause I cant think of one.

Half the summer vacations are over and I am bored to death. Some of the things I’ve managed to do so far include
1. Making a fool of myself by signing up for driving class and drive the instructor nuts,
2. Making a fool of myself on various online communities like Orkut and my friends weblogs,
3. Making a fool of myself by consenting to play cricket in the evenings,
4. Making a fool of myself by listing out all the possible ways I have made a fool of myself on my weblog.

Oh, I have also made a fool of myself by forgetting why I named my previous post The Jean Sequence. There is also the minor inconvenience of the football world-cup going on as well, what with everyone one meets wanting to know who would win the next match, and whether or not some harassed looking player with a crazy hairstyle ought to have been given the red card or not. I did make an effort to understand the dynamics behind football but I think I started at the wrong place – I tried to figure out the off-side rule. I however decided to watch all the games being broadcasted on ESPN which by itself is a special thing because the cable operators decided to broadcast the channel making all those who signed up for the CAS look like jackasses.

The heat is also taking its toll on people. Some have gone out to hilly regions to escape from the heat of Chennai. Why, my own good friend Raja Deepak himself is returning home coming Monday leaving a trail of devastation behind in Kodaikanal. The heat has also affected me in the sense that it has impaired my thinking and has made me embark on long soliloquies on topics that are better left alone. Recently for example I wondered what circumstances drive people to suicidal thoughts. One guy I know contemplated doing himself in when he was in a bit of a mess with his classmates. Another wanted to do so because he was in a spot of trouble with his family. Though these were serious problems, which look silly because I do not want to elaborate too much for fear of giving too much away, they hardly qualify to invoke such thoughts. Well I myself have been through worse and have pulled through without incident. I have contemplated suicide twice in my life and the reasons are pretty serious. The first one was when Arun made a record seventeen geek jokes on the morning of the Operating Systems exam. The second was when Navneeth declared "We have spiritual power" to the class in general when a heated discussion was going on about who had more power in his biceps, that would help in arm wrestling. That is the sort of thing heat can do to you.

Regarding driving classes, I have to admit it. I am driving impaired. I can hardly differentiate between the left and the right in the best of times and certainly not when behind the wheel of a car that seems to have a mind of its own. One time I even managed to depress the brake instead of the clutch causing chaos in the traffic that was following our car.
For want of topics to speak about and not make a fool of myself, I’ll wind this post up.

When I am not making a fool of myself, I am bored to death and will only be too happy when college re-opens.

That is all for now…

WIYOATS.

Sunday, June 04, 2006

The Jean Sequence

The Anna University, under the new regime of the complete idiot Vishwanathan, wrapped up all the exams for the even semester within a short span of two weeks. As an indirect consequence, a lot of people lost many hours of sleep as they had to stay awake till late into the night watching the men in blue snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. The fact that cricket matches are played is in itself a direct consequence of looming exams. Every exam was held every alternate day, which was a blessing in disguise, as the possibility of a candidate (read Sundar) forgetting the date and over-sleeping is greatly reduced. Usually exams are held once every three days. The study holidays before the exams, three days of holidays between each exam and the next, and the stretch of holidays after the exams usually have the combined effect of making one feel he’s writing exams in-between a long stretch of holidays. This time round, however, things were different and the exams were all over before one could say Jack Robbins, or whatever one wished to say, because anyway people weren’t paying attention to what one said because they were too busy studying. I am not making much sense am I?

The first exam was something called Computer Architecture. This is a very interesting subject, as I discovered seven hours before the start of the exam. People said it was tough, but I thought it was challenging. Maybe I will have to swallow my words if I flunk it. A day later, we had to write something called Operating Systems, which dealt with how an operating system would go about its task of producing the blue screen of death. This too turned out to be very interesting, but the paper was a terrible bore as there was no work for the brain, whereas my hand worked itself to death. One more day later we had to write a paper called Probability and Queuing Theory where a student’s aptitude is judged based on his ability to memorize totally useless and abstract theorems and the variety of symbols he uses. I mean, who has ever heard of a barber who calculates the number of customers in his shop assuming a Poisson distribution of arrivals where the service rate is assumed to be exponentially distributed? He would be better off doing a head count. With that, the first phase of the exams got over.

The next phase began with Visual Programming. This happens to be the most counter-intuitive programming language ever invented, and no prizes for guessing who invented it – Microsoft. Even though the exam was more than three days away, I started studying as soon as I came home –But that was not to be. There I was trying to make sense out of what Charles Petzold means when he makes tongue-in-cheek remarks like “Creating a window is as easy as calling the createwindow() function –Well, not really”, when some of my friends called me to the nearby ground to play, and that’s what I ended up doing. I read the preface thoroughly in both the books (the only comprehensible parts), and had a few doubts as to whether Kruglinski really died in a paragliding ‘accident’. What I mean is that one of his students could easily have done him in -A knot tied the wrong way would have done the trick. And he would not be without motive. At the end of the exam, I swore that if ever I could get my hands on that Petzold guy I would hack his right arm right off. If time permitted, I would make sure I cut his arm above the windows tattoo that he supposedly wears on his right bicep. Next came a paper called Analog and Digital Communications. Incidentally, we had the most un-communicative lecturer for this subject. Forty-five hours of slogging through phase locked loop circuits, Crosby direct transmitters, digitally encoded binary shift keying theorems and three hours of staring at blank sheets of paper later, we came out feeling absolutely rotten. The next exam was the Electrical Engineering and Control Systems paper. This subject, contrary to popular perception, happens to be a core subject for computer engineers. Once again people spent a day and a half trying to figure out the working of the three phase induction motor that could start itself due to the presence of a rotating magnetic flux (whatever that means) and the Nyquist criterion to find the stability of an independent second order system (you just said it was an independent system –why bother with it? Leave it alone!). The paper setters here pulled off a stunt that has no precedent in the lamentable history of Anna University. Normally they ask problems based on the theories students study. This time however, they, under the impression that they were going to set a challenging paper, set questions that asked students to write long-winded essays on how to solve the problem, rather than asking them to solve the problem itself. So, that was that, and with a month of holidays ahead, there’s nothing to stop me from achieving my wildest ambition ever (sleeping thirteen hours a day).

Why did I name this post the Jean Sequence? Wait and find out.

Monday, May 08, 2006

Yet Another Amusement Park

I created a world record by visiting two amusement parks within two weeks, one before the practical exams and one after the practicals. This time my family and I went to the VGP so called "Universal Kingdom", in the new Mercedes S-Class err... Make that Maruti Zen my dad had bought recently.

The main reason was to watch the Indiana Jones play that was being put up. We reached there and found that the entry fee was relatively cheap -Rs. 120/-. Later we found that we could do virtually nothing by paying only the entry fee for the default rides all tended to be silly little merry-go-rounds. All the somewhat better rides costed money. It is amazing how these people come up with rides that do not go upside-down even once, and yet manage to christen it a roller coaster, which was the first ride. Well, if you'd coaxed Mr. Bean to take the ride, he would have been so bored he probably would have gone into coma stage. I myself felt sleepy to some extent! We came out and also payed to get our photo as testimony to the fact that we'd had gone on the most boring ride on earth and come out alive.

The second ride we went to actually went upside down. It was dramatically called "The Mixer". On first sight people remark that the name is quite apt as it had the potential to mix the contents of your stomach beyond imagination. However the thing that really churns peoples stomachs is the price of the ride. My brother and I strapped ourselves to it, and the safety lock came down on my thigh with vengeance, cutting off the blood supply to my feet. The thing started rotating, pretty slowly, and after sometime went upside down. I quite enjoyed it, but part of the sensation was nullified by my numb feet. The ride did not rely on centrifugal force to keep you up during the overhead rotation, but rather on the state of the art locking facilities, putting peoples' weights on their thighs. When the ride got over, I regretted having not come in with the next set of people.

Now it was time for the Indiana Jones show. When we reached the spot, we found that the show had long since started and was working its way to the end. We were just in time to see Indy save the damsel in distress and break whatever suspense was there in the show. We decided the whole amusement park was a waste of time and decided to wait at the open-air-theatre itself till the next show, an hour and half later. The show starts with the heroine's helper betraying her and deciding to kill her for the coveted medallion she wore that would let him walk about the temple of Callipha without awakening the temple's resident monster. The hero, our Indy, swings down to rescue her (he swung too far away and landed beyond the ropes just in front of the spectators). Just when the onstage chemistry between the hero and the heroine is getting established, the omnipresent Nazis arrive with the intention of using the temple's secret powers with the view of establishing military superiority. How the temple was supposed to be secret escaped me, what with a regular procession of people chancing upon it every day. The heroine's helper turned out to be an accomplice of the Nazis. The temple's monster gets aroused -A mammoth of a man enacts this monster. It abducts the heroine. The Nazis and the hero have a great gun fight, and one Nazi dies when he goes up in flames when a grenade explodes near him. This was really well done, and he dances about for sometime with his back on fire and then falls into a concealed tank of water behind the set. The hero and the monster fight on top of the temple, the hero slays the monster, which immediately falls three stories to the ground (onto a mattress). The temple starts to self destruct and the hero and heroine are able to get away at the nick of the moment, having to abandon a noble sword. The story is quite predictable, but the stunts were astounding. The timing was still better. Early on, Indy saves the heroine from certain death by calling out to her. She stops and turns just in time to avoid being cut in half by a sword that rises from the floor. The sound was very well co-coordinated with the on-stage events. We shook hands with the performers, who seemed sincerely happy to hear people's compliments.

The other rides were all awesomely boring. I even managed to yawn on the tora tora. A couple of girls were screaming when they reached the top of...guess -The giant wheel. They however were silenced when a man waved at them from the top of a nearby cell-phone tower.

I have vowed to never again visit a theme park. Hope it lasts two months.

Yours boredly,
Sundar.

P.S. : WIYOATS

Monday, April 24, 2006

Practicals - A Comedy of Errors

Whoever has attended a practical session in engineering college would know how useless it is. Whoever has attended a practical examination in an engineering college would also know the needless tension it inflicts on the candidates in question. I finished my semester practicals last week for this semester, and found it was a total disaster.

On Monday, we came to college to get our record notebooks signed from the HOD. There, we found that two of our practicals had been scheduled for Thursday and Friday. Our eyes lost focus, and our knees collapsed together. I tried very hard to get my notebooks signed by that day itself, but it was not to be. A few of us were destined to come to college on Tuesday it seemed. On Tuesday, we learned that the third practical exam had been scheduled for Wednesday, upon hearing which our eyes lost focus, and our knees gave out beneath us. We got our record note-books signed in a covert snap operation and dashed off for home as soon as we could get away - by four o'clock.

The first exam was grandly titled "Electrical Engineering and Control Systems", which is a core subject for us computer engineers. I prepared pretty well, and in the examination hall, I picked up a paper at random, and found that I had been graciously requested to please find the load characteristics of a single phase transformer. We were first asked to draw the circuit diagram and get it verified. I did so much without much incident, and was guided to the machine in question. I was relieved to see that the connections were all already there. Then I realized only half of the connections were there. On further inspection, I found that whatever connections had already been there were all completely wrong. Sighing, I started connecting - "The Positive connects to the ammeter and the voltmeter. The negative of the voltmeter connects to the negative input...blah blah blah". The internal guy came in, verified the circuit, and asked me to switch on the machine. I flipped it on - well, not exactly "flip" it on, but hung on the switch and pulled it down with full force. The machine thankfully started up and I took all the necessary readings. I then switched it off and started calculating the efficiency, where I hit my first snag. I suddenly realized that my machine had been operating at 150% efficiency! For a moment, I thought I had debunked the law of conservation of energy. I was wondering whether to go public with my findings, when the thought occurred that I ought to re-check my calculations. That's when I realized that one should not use a wattmeter to measure power in the primary circuit. The wattmeter was not used at all! I calculated power manually on both sides and and it worked like a charm -Well, I would have loved to say that, but the points on the graph jumped around like hell, and I was forced to ignore every other alternate reading. Having drawn a semblance of the efficiency output and another plot known as the regulation, I wrote out the result, and lined up for the viva. The external, some woman from Easwari Engg. college, asked me to define a transformer. I replied that the transformer was used to step up or step down voltage, current, power etc. - Big Mistake. She asked me who the hell had taught me that kind of a definition and I was very much tempted to point out my own lecturer sitting nearby, but I controlled myself and kept quiet. She asked a few more questions some of which which I answered pretty well, others for which I wasn't so convincing.

The second exam was Visual Programming, which was my dreaded exam. It is the most counter-intuitive programming language ever invented and no prizes for guessing who invented it- Microsoft. The incidents of this exam are reserved for a later post- after the results... But the one thing that happened was that every law ever dreamed up by Lord Murphy came to the fore and enacted itself upon the candidates with devastating results.

The third and final practical examination was the Operating Systems exam, and for the first time I felt truely confident. I was asked to find the factorial of a number using shell programming in UNIX and to implement the system call fork(), which once again was a C program, but which would only run in a UNIX environment. Simple programs, both of them really, while I had expected something challenging. The external examiner was under the impression of doing things differently. She asked the viva questions in groups of three, so that people could make collective blunders, and magnify their incompetence. She asked a first question which I answered. Then, she asked me to ask a question to any one of the other people -two girls. I asked them a question to which I did not know the answer, but was essential to the running of my program, hoping to get an answer -but as things turned out I could have spoken to a wall with better results. The examiner became angry and remarked all of us could come and write the exam the next semester. She asked a couple more questions to which only I was able to answer, head held high, and the examiner seemed satisfied a little. Then, I called for the guy who didn't know a thing to get my output verified as soon as the guy who knew a thing or two walked out in response to his kausalya supraja... ringtone on his mobile. This man verified the output of my factorial program and marked my fork program verified for just compiling it without executing it!!!

I submitted the paper with the examiner who said "You got the sign from that guy?", and grinned at me in the way you grin at people who you know have done a sly thing. The other guy, who knew a thing or two, rushed in and grabbed the paper from the guy who had signed for me and was just about to verify the output for another guy, much to the poor student's chagrin.

All in all, things went so and so.

Yours practically,
Sundar.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Land of the monkeys-Kishkinta

God knows why theme parks were created. At-least why theme parks were created in India. This is because a day at an Indian theme park is about as interesting as a day spent staring at Krishnamachari Srikkanth talking about "innovations" cricket should introduce (such as drawing a strip on the pitch to facilitate accurate LBW decisions).

This morning I woke up to a loudly ringing phone. Expecting to be informed of a brutual murder, involving a man lying on the floor, arms and legs twisted at an angle that would have resembled a combination of the petruvian man and T Rajender, I was jolted back into reality when I realized it was Mahesh cooing his hellos into the phone. Making a mental note to cut down on Dan Brown books, I realized he was going on about some trip to an "amusement" park. I readily agreed as it provided me with a much needed break from an heavy work-schedule involving getting up at ten, breaking fast at eleven, and browsing the internet till two; not the same day, but the next morning. My only other concern was finance, and amazingly I found a couple of hundred bucks which I had not drunk my way through in the form of fruit-mixes in paan-stained glasses. I dressed with painstaking carelessness, and found that I had matched a blue shirt with a blue pair of jeans. This tends to happen as I tend to not wear anything other than the colour blue. Another motivation for me to go was the fact that Mahesh was arranging for the transport in the form of an Ambassador driven by Schumacher's second cousin.

The motivation for Mahesh to organize the trip was that he wasn't under any form of motivation, which he would have promptly ignored. He however was under compulsion from all of his family to take his cousin, who could not understand a word of Tamil, from Varanasi to a popular theme park in Chennai. In this way, it turned out that we were a motley collection of reluctant souls forced on a joy-trip when we'd have rather been at Dr. Rajkumar's funeral.

We reached the place, which was on the way to the place of Mahesh's intellectual study of Computer Science Engineering. Since he was well versed with the route, he pre-warned us of the precise spots at which to cover our noses, as there were an assortment of garbage dumps on both sides along the way. We entered, payed through our nose for the minimal thrills and frills package and promptly got tagged -you know, the way they tag cattle in ranches, the way Saddam used to tag the dead after each small stint at ethnic cleansing. The first ride was called "Shuttle". Well in essence it was a powered swing which was designed to look like a space shuttle. The operators were reluctant to let the swing really soar because there were an assortment of senior citizens amongst the riders. Usually(I have made a total of eight trips to Kishkinta) they swing the contraption high enough to facilitate the viewing of the wheels beneath, but this time they did not do that. After half a dozen swings, we disembarked. The next ride was the Tora-Tora. It is not known why this ride was called so...but maybe because it tends to churn things in your stomach, causing people to throw up...torrrooouuuaaaggghhh...torrrooouuuaaaggghhh -which is precisely what happened to the man sitting in front of me. Luckily centrifugal force carried everything away from me, and I haven't yet opened my account on any theme-park doshams.

The next thing we did was to ride something called the trooper, but I will not go into word origins here. Mahesh sat out on this one because it went too high up for his liking. So, I ended up taking a car with the non-Tamil speaking guy, and by the time my challenge of throwing one's hands up for at least one revolution got across, we were getting out of it. The flume ride turned out to be a damp squib, quite literally. A boat goes up, comes down, crashes, drenches its occupants for no useful reason with salt-water. The heat must have gotten to us, for we did this twice. At this time, we had a plate of samosas each at rates so high that Warren Buffet would rather have eaten his left sock. We also had the cheapest lemonade we could find, whose ingredients consisted of methyl iso-cyanide, ethyl mercaptan and benzene hexachloride all mixed with di-hydrogen monoxide.

Having filled our tummies with non-biodegradable toxic waste, we proceeded to a place called Manthira Arai (Mystical room) which possessed the mystical quality of being able to rotate with the help of a single phase induction motor, or any other contraption for that matter. The room was closed off and we were asked to view the room on an ajacent screen... The room had a fixed camera that rotated along with it. A guy in a poorly designed spider-man costume performed a few antics in the room by walking all along the ceiling, walls and floor. At the end of the show, a question was asked at the audience (still seated members) and one man put up his hand and managed to get the point across that the thing rotated. He got a T-shirt with the Kishkinta logo, and an opportunity to walk into the room and generally make a fool of himself. He made a fool of himself and got away. His friends promptly made a fool of themselves by tearing the shirt apart into pieces. We trudged on into the next show, a sort of virtual reality show, where the chairs move in sync with the on-screen video. We were to watch some sort of ride into a coal mine. It was pretty good, but it can only be realistic enough only if they'd have been able to simulate free-fall sensation, which is virtually impossible. Thankfully, the room was air-conditioned.

We went on to ride an inflatable raft down a slope, which was pretty exciting. We pushed some more unpalatable stuff into our stomach, and started off for home (me thankful because I needed to start writing my records as it was only a week away from the exams). Other things we did, which I did not mention include riding the Arabian Nights (Cups and Saucers) twice (this is nothing but a fancy contraption where a smaller wheel rotates inside a larger one and you are made to sit in one of the cups on the smaller one), the bumper cars twice, where you are allowed to smash you car into any others', which under normal circumstances would have cost you a lot of money in the form of compensation and bribe, and ride the Tora-Tora a second, pukeless time. We fancied a ride on the shuttle a second time, but we got out after sitting on it for ten minutes because the hydraulic walkways would not fold up. I was thankful that the hydraulic walkways had not malfunctioned at the end of the ride. Imagine a truckload of people sitting in a swing twenty feet above the ground unable to get off because the walkways refused to lower themselves! We'd all still have been sitting there!

We decided enough was enough and started back home. I just realized I had been to a place where there is no giant wheel and I have not been upside-down even once and people call that an amusement park! On coming home, I showered and went online (to hell with records). Mahesh had his work cut out for him. He had to drop his cousin back in T Nagar. He reached home at nine in the evening, a hundred times more tired than I. Who wouldn't get tired having listened to an hours worth of heavily accented Hindi?

Hell of a journey.

Yours Amusingly,
Sundar

WIYOATS.

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Hurray!!!

Hurray...I am about to receive my thousandth hit. Whoever gives me my thousandth hit will receive a grand prize. They will be given the opportunity to answer one of the most intriguing questions ever asked in the history of humanity, in front of a grand audience consisting of intelluctuals from all over the with the exception of IEEE mambers who study in MNM Jain Engg. college.

The question is presented here, in the exact same form as it was first uttered...

What is your opinion about the subject?

Sundar

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Heavens Me

A person who I thought was my friend once asked me to read a certain book called The Silmarillion. He said it was a Tolkien book, which I read with passion. I however could not read beyond the first paragraph. It was akin to listening to Vogon poetry. Here's a small excerpt. Read this and judge for yourself how an average fellow would feel if given such a book.

AINULINDALË

The Music of the Ainur



There was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Ilúvatar; and he made first
the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought, and they
were with him before aught else was made. And he spoke to them, propounding
to them themes of music; and they sang before him, and he was glad. But for
a long while they sang only each alone, or but few together, while the rest
hearkened; for each comprehended only that part of me mind of Ilúvatar from
which he came, and in the understanding of their brethren they grew but
slowly. Yet ever as they listened they came to deeper understanding, and
increased in unison and harmony.



The uninitiated, on listening to this generally collapse right there, hanging their tongue out, drooling, with a look of incomprehension in their eyes. The initiated, however tend to collapse right there, hanging their tongue out, drooling, with a look of total comprehension in their eyes. Of course, I am a great fan of Douglas Adams.

Well, that's not the only instance of Tolkien befuddling people. Even in The return of the king, I thought I was following the geography pretty well, but I suddenly came across this paragraph, and it it was with great will power that I restrained myself from collapsing right there, tongue hanging out, drooling, with a look of total incomprehension in my eyes.

At last the king's company came to a sharp brink, and the climbing road passed into a cutting between walls of rock, and so went up a short slope and out on to a wide upland. The Firenfeld men called it, a green mountain-field of grass and heath, high above the deep delved courses of the Snowbourn, laid upon the lap of the great mountains behind: the Starkhorn southwards, and northwards the saw-toothed mass of Irensaga, between which there faced the riders, the grim black wall of the Dwimorberg, the Haunted Mountain rising out of steep slopes of sombre pines. Dividing the upland into two there marched a double line of unshaped standing stones that dwindled into dusk and vanished in the trees. Those who had dared to follow that road came soon to the black Dimholt under Dwimorberg, and the menace of the pillar of stone, and the yawning shadow of the forbidden door.

If you have read the Silma- thingy, please give me its review since I have not read it beyond the first paragraph.

Yours hobitually,

Venkankudi Kidambi Srinivasa Ramanuja Sundararajan Iyengar.

P.S. : _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Saturday, April 08, 2006

Productive use of free time.

My class-mates have finally decided to make productive use of their free-time(The phrase free-time henceforth mean the OS hour and not lunch or break times). They started playing a noble sport. A sport that needs courage, grit, valour and selflessness. A sport that can cause grevious bodily harm. Well, they started gambling. It is a noble sport isn't it?

The first time I came to know of it was when Rafi asked me for a couple of rupees in change which he would glady return to me next tuesday. Suddenly, four or five people converged into the last bench before you could say Jack Robins. I peeped around and saw betting going on with full fervour. One guy would toss a coin into the air and another(One of the betters would call out). The winner would get the money. I was in time to see my two rupees vanish into the deep pockets of someone.

Narendran lost some fifteen rupees in the first few rounds, but made it back by the end of the day. However, Rafi the starter of the company Rafi and Sons, found he was short by a rupee at the end of the day. However, these days, his business is going full steam ahead.

Yours probably,

Sundar

Saturday, April 01, 2006

NLC TPS-1

There and back again. Well, that's that, that's what. We've been there and come back again. Oh yes, I am talking about our trip to the Neyveli Lignite Coroporation Thermal Power Station -1, which is what my title for this post says. This was an Industrial Visit to a power station for us budding computer science engineers. Very much related to our area of study.

A couple of days ago, our AHOD barged into communications class and mumbled something about an Industrial visit to Neyveli. All the students were roused into excitement from their stupor, and started making plans for the trip, but a few sane ones like me worried that we'd not be able to watch the second India v England LOI.

On the day in question, I woke up a little later than usual, intending to flag down the bus on its way to Neyveli when it passed via Tambaram. The mistake I made here was to not rely on the fact that outstation trips never start on time, and wake up later than "later than usual", and not to have completed my breakfast. After waiting for approximately forty minutes watching the peak hour rush wax, I atlast spotted the bus and stopped it...well, not exactly stop it, but at least slow it down so as to facilitate my hopping in.

Neyveli being four hours of travel away, we settled in, and my idea of catching up on some of the sleep I had lost over the past week(I loose tremendous amounts of sleep in waking up early, bathing, eating, and running to catch the bus each day) were shattered by my classmates deciding that this was a time for some fun and starting to scream their guts out. An hour later, we arrived at a small food stall in the middle of nowhere that offered food so sub-standard that even the flies neglected it. The one good drink which I found was a badam-mixed concoction, which I drank with my nose pinched. Of course others who had other things in mind found quality cigars and quality bushes in which to hide and puff away.

Three hours and a couple of deaf ears later, we arrived at Neyveli an hour late for our appointment with the Lignite corporation. The next slot for visitors was another ninety minutes away, and we decided to have lunch-at the bus-stand hotel. Those who had not been satisfied with their cigarettes sniffed out the bars, and the rest is history.

At last the time to visit the real thing came by, late in the afternoon. At the entrance, watchful eyes scanned the visitors for signs of mobile phones, and Raja Deepak was specifically taken aside for questioning. The way this man makes himself noticed at any place is astounding. At the thermal power plant, an employee took us over two flights of stairs, and we entered an innocuous looking door, but we encountered a room so large that it took my eyes some time to get adjusted to the massive dimensions of it. We were standing on a platform, some four stories above the shop floor, which ran all around it. And the noise -oh, the noise was unfathomable. It created an almighty crescendo. Huge signs proclaimed such inspirational messages as "One lapse, life collapse" to the workers. We walked some way around the platform and then entered among the machines, where walk-ways had been provided. Some machines made clanking noises, some whirred, some puffed smoke into the air. It was nice to see a few working voltmeters and ammeters for a change. The walkways were sheets of corrugated metal suspended on flimsy hinges that vibrated like hell. There was nothing more to protect you from crashing into the concrete floor below at a rate of 32 feet/sec/sec. Raman spotted a cupboard and opened it to find a maze of criss-crossing wires, junction boxes, resistors, transistors and what-nots buzzing with high power. After inspecting it(or pretending to) he lazily closed it and sauntered back to join the group.

We next entered the control room, which was a huge relief because it was air-conditioned and was sound proofed to some extent. Where I had expected people hunched over computers making quick decisions and constantly preventing the plant from exploding, I found a few middle-aged men with paunches with their feet on the table. Raman pointed out to the people in-charge that a light called "Alarm" was blinking. The man promptly shooed him away. The operators then started explaining the control-monitoring process to us. Arun asked a few questions which were either terribly silly or extremely geeky. I asked the guy if he knew of any bugs in the system, and was asked to please bring the next few people to the terminal. One of our guys produced a piece of black rock and got it verified that it was a piece of lignite. He shrieked and did an inpromptu jig that would have put the gold prospectors of the American gold rush to shame. We then made our way back out the same way. At this conjucture, Gopinath asked a particularly irritating question about how powdered granite was fed into the furnace, and it was with great will-power that I restrained myself from stuffing him head first into a hole in the alternator-generator. Barath dramatically pulled down a lever at random, to the astonishment of the guys and shrieks from the girls, and a tubelight promptly flickered into life somewhere above.

Next thing we did was visit the mines. We were herded into the bus and were taken to the mines. We were asked to get out at the entrance and walk through the gate. Then the gate was lifted and the bus was allowed in. Then, all of us were asked to get into the bus and were driven away. I still do not know what the idea behind the whole exercise was. We stopped at the view-point from where we could view the massive hole in the ground they'd managed to make. Prashanth made the mistake of remarking that the spot was ideal for bungee jumping, because Raja Deepak promptly launched into an explaination of how the vapour pressure above lignite mines has the tendency to gnaw through nylon ropes. We'd been there barely two whole minutes when we were again asked to get the hell out because some "VIP" and her hen-pecked husband were visiting.

After pushing the bus to get it started,(me standing behind watching, providing moral support) the bus finally roared into life, and all of us jumped in. We stopped at the entrance(without switching off the bus of course) and filled all available water bottles, and started off on our journey back home. The water bottles all ran out ten minutes later.

The guys all felt it was time for fun and began praising our professor-in-charge and started proclaiming him future HOD, Chief Minister, Prime-Minister and even American President in high decibels, while brutally attacking the whole of his ancestorage in lower ones. We stopped three kilometers away from Tambaram, much to the chagrin of me and another classmate of mine who lives there, to wait for the other bus which had a rated engine RPM that was one-tenth of ours. Meanwhile news reached us that the current chief minister was on her way to some of the southern cities on her election campaign, thereby blocking all traffic. With this in mind, Barath got down at Tambaram and with the intention of catching a train to Kodambakam, and the last I saw of him was when he was buying a ticket at the counter.

I reached home, plonked into bed and slept twelve hours(India had won the match-I missed a great half-century by Suresh Raina). Some called the trip a grand success, while others called it a complete fiasco. I do not know where my stand is.

Yours Industrially,
Sundar.

P.S.: ____________ You know it...do I have to say it every time?

Saturday, March 25, 2006

The Men In Blue

We in India tend to be cricket crazy, but only a little. We know our limits. At the most we boo at our failed cricketers, hurl rocks, make obscene gestures (which are promptly returned) or attempt suicide. In return our cricketers show a lot of dedication, passion and give their all every game as I realized recently.

Rahul Dravid (captain)
This man is a highly talented fellow who used to have the habit of turning his back to the ball whenever he was batting and used to take an average of twenty balls to get off the mark, much to the annoyance of the non-striker. It is generally agreed he has lost this habit now. However, since becoming captain, maybe he has made a new habit of winning the toss, but without much consequence.

Sachin Tendulkar
The most experienced man in the team, this man has hit an uncountable number of centuries and fifties. These days however, he forever seems to be either in a bad patch or recovering from an injury.

Anil Kumble
If all the members of the Indian team were asked to drop their pants, you would probably find this man to have the most worn out knees, among other things, because he invariably makes "valiant efforts" on the field by sliding after the ball on his knees. While bowling, he rarely turns the ball, but claims he turns the ball half the width of the bat, thereby getting the edge. However, I suspect most batsmen get out because they never get used to having a leg-spinner bowl so fast.

Virendar Sehwag
He can clobber Waqar Younis over third man for six. That's about all he does. Invariably instructed by the team management to play his natural game, he gets out with a strike rate of two hundred...having faced five balls.

Gautham Gambhir
Sportstar recently gave him a rating of 3/10. That pretty much speaks for itself. However, he is retained in the team for his message passing capabilities as a drinks man or "super sub".

Yuvraj Singh
He won the match for India at the Natwest final, some four years ago, and people still talk about that to justify his selection in the team. Other reasons for his selection in the team include his astounding ability to dive into the ground or throw himself all around the ball, without affecting its progress to the boundary at all.

Mohamed Kaif
A gem of a person off the field, he is a GEM of a person on it. (GEM : Ginger Eaten Monkey). His batting stance and ability to hit the stumps long after the running batsman has crossed the crease will prove my point to you.

Irfan Pathan
A left arm "pace" bowler, this man can swing the ball prodidiously, only to find that the batsman has clobbered it for four, or gone wide. Also an upcoming batsman, he regularly scores more than the top order batsmen.

Harbhajan Singh
This man regularly comes in the dreams of the Aussies wearing a Putka, sporting a pointed tail and holding a syth in his hand. Harbhajan is a very emotional type, and can work himself into a frenzy on taking a wicket, even if it involved a number 11 batsman getting holed out at long on.

M S Dhoni (Wicket Keeper)
He was selected in the team for being a hard hitter of the cricket ball and a passable keeper, but cemented his place in the team recently when he made the President of Pakistan insecure with his hair-style. He recently discovered that no one could fool a man twice with the same trick even if he was a Sardarji when he holed out to Monty Panessar at mid-off in the final innings of the third test against England.

Munaf Patel
At last a fast bowler for India who looks like a fast bowler and also bowls fast. He however, seems to be terribly unlucky, what with his team members dropping catches off his bowling without fail. One hopes to God he will not have too many injuries, lest he be pushed into the sidelines and later be completely forgotten. Remember Balaji?

Sreeshanth, RP Singh and Ajith Agarkar
The other fast bowlers for India. The first two have had good matches, but are yet to prove themselves by bowling the last over when the opposition needs six runs, with two wickets in hand. The other has the "uncanny knack" of picking up wickets, of batsmen number nine, ten and eleven when they are going for runs in the end overs, and attributes it to "reverse swing". He is a senior member without too much experience.

Coach Greg Chappell
This Australian beat people like Jimmy Amarnath, who is making a fool of himself on Fourth Umpire making people rather relieved he was not the coach, to become the coach of Team India. He has the distinction of being the second most laptop touting cricket coach in the world, the first being Bob Woolmer. Chappell can not even dream of comng close to Woolmer in the sense that Chappell only plays Minesweeper when a match is in progress, while Woolmer plays Quake. Chappell is so dedicated a coach for the team that he regularly injures himself, especially his middle finger.

India is truly well on its way to winning the world cup next year.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Second most scariest thing...

Backmasking is a technique of hiding messages in songs. I recently listened to the song "Jingle Bells" and felt it was scary when I heard the song in reverse. So scary that I shrieked and threw my headphones at the screen. Click here to listen to this.

This was the second most scary thing I have encountered in my life... The most scariest being seeing S.J.Suriya dancing to the song Mayil Iragaey... on Sun Music the first time.

Friday, March 17, 2006

A Phenomenon called Raja Deepak

Mr. A. Raja Deepak is an aberration in the normal stream of things. He is a temporal anomaly in the space time continuum. He has caused an interrupt in the smooth Mandelbrot's fractal functioning of the expanding universe, and has been responsible for paradigm shifts in a definite number of infinite parallel universes.

Well, that doesnt say everything about my good friend Raja Deepak because we all cause all of these phenomenons ourselves. This Raja Deepak is my class mate ever since he walked into my class in our orientation program on the 27th of October, some 2004 years since a man was nailed to the cross for suggesting people be nice for a change (My tribute to Douglas Adams). Raja Deepak is crazy in the sense that he does not have the chemical dopamine linking the neurons in his brain. He just has dope.

I found that he and I have a lot in common and became thick friends. However, we constantly are bickering at each other because we have so much not in common. For example, I prefer a low key life-style whereas he likes to have a high key lifestyle but doesn't take the effort necessary to lead the pop-culture lifestyle. The above demonstrated self-countering as a subset of countering oneself is another trait we have in common.

Raja Deepak is net savvy to an extent, but is always unwilling to find and download anything his friends ask of him, and invariably comes up with an excuse to evade that. Other than that, he is quite a good fellow. Of course, he sent some two hundred messages and two score missed calls to a girl he had a crush on, much to the chagrin of the poor victim who had her phone taken away from her as a result.

He trusts teachers he likes too much, but quickly jumps to the conclusion that he doesn't like a teacher. His thought processes are always set to the wrong processes at the priority, thereby leaving him totally confused in situations that necessitate tact, shrewedness, and guile, and completely helpless and useless. The kinds of situations I am talking about include those situations in which you would normally expect your friends to take the cue from you and play accordingly in front of a professor or friend when it is necessary. He is a bit of a fool I should say. For example, he insists on sitting on one of the concrete benches in the college despite it being time for class. On asked about this, he usually responds with a "No problem, we can talk our way out if the prof. asks us why we were late", but when it actually comes to being questioned by a teacher, he keeps his mouth shut, or even if he does open his mouth, he barks his head off. I am not saying that I have all these qualities, but I atleast do not make such statements, and go to class early at all times. If you are reading this post and if you are called Raja Deepak according to your birth certificate, then please try to remember what happened at the informals finals at Crescent Engg. college, what happened at the library when we went there during class hours, and who ended up talking his way out. Moreover, If you are Raja Deepak, I would also like to say one more thing. I am sorry if I have offended you in any way. In case you still are feeling offended, then you are by all means free to feel offended. After all, it is a right granted to every Indian citizen under sec. 18 clause (b), paragraph (h), or somewhere with a similar description.

Raja Deepak has good general knowledge, as was evident from the way he answers questions in quizzes and stuff. He also is a good tennis player but takes great pains to avoid actually playing the game, as was evident from the fact that he went all the way to Madurai to participate in a tennis tournament, but returned home without playing a single game because he failed to register for the event. If he however tells you something about being the coach, manager, drinks boy etc., be assured that he is lying to save his own skin.

As I said, he and I have a lot in common, and many of the traits I have described above also apply to me. That's why he and I are good friends. (At this conjuncture, it is very tempting to write another post and call it "A phenomenon called Navneeth", but let's leave it at that)

Raja Deepak, on the whole is a cool guy, who laughs easily, and doesn't take things too seriously. He has a lot of friends who are intent on giving him the B'day bums. He has various ambitions in life such as completing a certain mission Pav Bhajji. He listens to a lot of songs and is highly knowledgeable in this field. It is amazing that he learnt Hindi only by watching movies. On the whole, I would say that his positives far outweigh his negatives, making him a jolly good fellow to hang around with, notwithstanding the fact that he looks thirty when he hasn't shaved and is mistaken for a professor routinely, even by final year students.

Well, that's that.

Bye,
Sundararajan .S

P.S.: What Is Your Opinion About The Subject?

Monday, March 13, 2006

Hi

In case you're mistaken, it was I who added the comments within brackets last post. So, you are not allowed to copy-paste the whole thing without my written permission ;-) . Hey, just kidding!!!

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Errr-What was that again?

I received the following message as an email. So would you. I however noticed a few somethings here and there...


1 If you are right handed, you will tend to chew your food on your right side. If you are left handed, you will tend to chew your food on your left side. (How do you know that it is not the other way around? If you chew your food on the left side you are left handed...)
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2 If you stop getting thirsty, you need to drink more water. For when a human body is dehydrated, its thirst mechanism shuts off. (Typical human anatomy. Nothing works the way you want it to)
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3 Your tongue is germ free only if it is pink. If it is white there is a thin film of bacteria on it. (What about black???)
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4 The Mercedes-Benz motto is 'Das Beste oder Nichts' meaning 'the best or nothing'. (And the Hindustan Ambassador motto means 'Old-wives' car that doesn't suit anyone except old wives')
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5 The Titanic was the first ship to use the SOS signal. (No wonder no one nearby recognized it!!!)
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6 The pupil of the eye expands as much as 45 percent when a person looks at something pleasing. (Ever since I joined college, it has been shut tight)
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7 The average person who stops smoking requires one hour less sleep a night. (I dont smoke, yet I sleep more than twelve hours if let to. Imagine how many I would sleep if only I smoked!!!)
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8 Laughing lowers levels of stress hormones and strengthens the immune system. Six-year-olds laugh an average of 300 times a day. Adults only laugh 15 to 100 times a day. (I dont think I have laughed more than once since I joined college!)
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9 Dalmatians are born without spots. (Maybe its only we humans who see the spots.)
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10 Bats always turn left when exiting a cave. (Even a bat can obey traffic rules and keep to the left... but you cant!)
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11 Men's shirts have the buttons on the right, but women's shirts have the buttons on the left. (So that it is easy for the men to undo them?)
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12 The reason honey is so easy to digest is that it's already been digested by a bee. (Can you imagine people calling their girlfriends "Digested waste excreted by a bee?")
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13 Every time you sneeze some of your brain cells die (Aaaah...Aaaah...Tishooooo...Oh My God!)
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14 When hippos are upset, their sweat turns red (My Class Advisor last semester...)
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15 The first Harley Davidson motorcycle was built in 1903, and used a tomato can for a carburetor (Reports say that it could run faster than a current day TVS-Excel)
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16 Google is actually the common name for a number with a million zeros (The average number of hits you get for any search term!!!)
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17 Switching letters is called spoonerism. For example, saying jag of Flapan, instead of flag of Japan. (The First World war broke out when ArchDuke Francis Ferdinand accidentally said "Let's have the Hags Flung out" whan he actually meant "Let's have Flags Hung out")
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18 It cost 7 million dollars to build the Titanic and 200 million to make a film about it. (A hundred years from now, they'll be making a movie on the movie itself at a budget of 50 billion)
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19 There are 1,792 steps to the top of the Eiffel Tower (and another 1792 to get back to firm ground!)
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20 Human hair and fingernails continue to grow after death. (Dunno how many graves they dug up to establish this)
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21 The plastic things on the end of shoelaces are called aglets (Guess what people preferred to call the chief guest at our sports day?)
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22 Most soccer players run 7 miles in a game. (I dont think I have run that much in my life)
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23 Every day 200 million couples make love, 400,000 babies are born, and 140,000 people die. (Beg your pardon?)
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24 In most watch advertisements the time displayed on the watch is 10:10 because then the arms frame the brand of the watch (and make it look like it is smiling).(mocking more like...You cant dream of owning me Nyah-Nyah-Nyah-Nyah-Nyah)
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25 Colgate faced big obstacle marketing toothpaste in Spanish speaking countries. Colgate translates into the command "go hang yourself." (quite a few of my teeth have hanged themselves too, since I started using colgate)
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26 Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair. (Ever notice my rich, beautiful lusturous hair?)
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27 Women blink nearly twice as much as men. (That's because half the time, men are winking one of their eyes at women who in turn blink both eyes back in incomprehension.)
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28 German Shepherds bite humans more than any other breed of dog. (I thought German Shepards were intelligent...)
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29 Large kangaroos cover more than 30 feet with each jump. (Jump half that distance at the next Olympics and they will hang a gold coin tied with a ribbon around your neck)
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30 Whip makes a cracking sound because its tip moves faster than the speed of sound. (So, the next time you are getting whip-lashed, pause to marvel at the intrigues of science)
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31 Two animal rights protesters were protesting at the cruelty of sending pigs to a slaughterhouse in Bonn. Suddenly the pigs, all two thousand of them, escaped through a broken fence and stampeded, trampling the two hapless protesters to death. (Pigs will be pigs)

Friday, March 03, 2006

The Average Dan Brown Novel

I just finished reading the Dan Brown novel The Da Vinci Code. This man seems to have quite a knack for spinning yarns of the fourth kind. So far, I have read three of his novels, Angels and Demons, Digital Fortress and the afore mentioned. The one thing the man is good at is being persuasive. His writings are like the voice of Saruman.

His first book of the 'genre' he is following at present was the Digital Fortress. He then went on to write other Deception Point, Angels and Demons, and all the other brain busting nonsense he could come up with. One thing that has to be said is that he learns well from past experiences. The Digital Fortress dealt with a lot of physical and currently happening things, thereby leading to a lot of controversies, by which Spain even invited him to a free tour of their country to prove to him how good the health-care, transport and telephone systems were. In this book, the actual locations and descriptions of many buildings and monuments were contested and proven to be wrong.

Our Danny fellow seems to have realized his mistakes since then. He has decided to write stuff that no one would actually bother to verify because they are too tough to verify!!! In those rare places he does provide actual references to real objects or people he now does his homework more thoroughly.

The first book that I read was the Angels and Demons. Here, I thought I had an inclination of the subject but was unwilling to jump to conclusions having not read him before. Then I read Digital Fortress and was able to quite identify the plot and the ending. A person with a higher IQ and General Knowledge would have done far better! The Da Vinci Code was written when he was at the peak of his form and I was not able to identify the exact course of the plot, but was saying "Hmmm, must have guessed that earlier..." because that's how any Dan Brown book goes about.

What happens in a Dan Brown Novel :

1. The Hero wakes up to a ringing phone in the wee ours of the morning only to be intimated of a gruesome murder.

2. Our Hero goes to the spot immediately and is given the arduous task of identifying the killer(s).

3. Suspicion may or may not fall on our Hero. However, he takes to his heels, picking up a girlfriend along the way.

4. He is followed close behind by "authorities" whoever they maybe, whom he regularly looses and regains.

5. The story is punctuated with a needless chase by an anonymous or irrelevant character whom we could have done without.

6. The Hero's boss or superior or friend who directs him in escaping turns out to be a traitor.

7. That the helper is a traitor is revealed to our Hero by a mistake kindergarteners would not have done.

8. Our Hero crosses international borders as if they were the doorsteps to the local public toilet.

9. Our Hero solves ancient mysteries within minutes by just glancing at clues.

10. The storyline makes use of non-existent scientific theories and principles to great effect.

11. Our Hero correctly identifies that great personalities of the past belonged to secret societies with pointless rituals.

12. Our Hero solves the mystery and "saves the world" in the nick of the moment.

13. Barely twenty-four hours after the adventure begins, our Hero and his new found girlfriend are turning in for the night.

14. The back cover of the book consists of a secret code that when deciphered, reveals the titles of the books yet to be released by the author that would further refer to future books, all having the same storyline.

15. While all other authors put out a disclaimer at the front accepting responsibility for any factual errors, our Hero (Here I mean Dan Brown) says "The Priori of sion really exsists, and has had many prominent members including Galileo, Michealangelo, Jesus Christ, Napoleon, Alexander, Mata Hari, Mussolini, Gandhi, Nehru, and Laloo Prasad Yadav...." Future books may come out with claims that a so-and-so secret society had a member from a planet called Krypton and go on to claim that there really was a Superman who still lives in an obscure town called Manhattan working for a village TV Station called CNN.

Well thats all isn't it? When The Solomon Key comes out, just take the basic concept involved and juxtapose it with the above outlined "protocol" and Presto! You have the story!

Yours Illuminati,
Sundar

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

DAMN IT!!!

Damn it!

Can you actually believe that I have posted 11 times on this blog and deleted thrice without actually devoting an entire post to this ever-nagging question?

WHAT IS YOUR OPINION ABOUT THE SUBJECT???

I mean, what is your opinion about the subject? I have asked this question to many people without ever receiving a satisfactory answer from anyone, except for a fellow who now is in Singapore making a fool of himself-No Comments.

I started out in this noble mission of asking anyone and everyone this question of honour that tested everyone's valour when I was going nuts doing my final year of school. (Henceforth I was sent to the asylum which I visit everyday). People were non-plussed, dazed, confunded, demented and illuminated as they struggled with their wits, their conscience, their values, their ethics, and their System Software. As Gandhi once said (On the second page of all CBSE textbooks) "will this help find Swaraj for the millions? You will find your doubts and your boredom melting away."
Or something of that sort.

I asked this question only to ensure that I did not always monopolize a conversation with anyone in a manner in which only the rich, the powerful, and the important can do in smoke-filled boardrooms many miles away, from which they monitor the activities of every one individual. I asked this question so that conversation would not be one-way and would extract some information from the other person.

Things somehow went wrong somewhere down the line. People started feeling non-plussed, dazed, confunded, demented, illuminated, irritated, bored and obnoxious to say the least. They would never answer this question despite being prompted, threatened or begged to so. I even tried throwing the question at people off-guard, responded with the question whenever I picked up the phone, and even tried posting the question on our otherwise defunct online group. But to no avail.

I have to carry out my next step in a carefully planned phased out manner. You will see it when you encounter it.

Yours questioningly,
Sundar

P.S. : What is your opinion about the subject?

Monday, February 27, 2006

Symposium Woes

My good friend Mahesh seems to divide his college going time into two equal halves- the time he attends his own college, and the time he visits other colleges. Naturally, he seems to have a list of college woes that are longer than everyone else's, as these include other colleges too. He is so intent on visiting other colleges that he event went to great lengths to type out the entire schedule of one such college's culturals on his blog. I mean, this is absolute craziness. A visit once in a while is ok, but to visit twice a week... I however am not typing out this post to find fault with a good friend of mine.

I am going to point out the common problems encountered by the unsuspecting, unwary student who wanders into one of these events by chance, or to evade classes or to improve his visual acuity by looking at those that the eye naturally has an acuity for. Or of course, we have the odd one who sincerely hopes to participate and win and put it on his resume.(Mahesh belongs to this category I hope).

1. The inauguration invariably starts at-least one hour behind schedule.

2. The inauguration invariably ends only a few minutes behind schedule with the Chief Guest leaving in a huff as he was forced to cut-short his beautifully prepared lecture on the maintenance of obscure power plants.

3. Participants have to register for all events beforehand, sometimes even on computers, where all details are entered into a database, whose file is then selected with the left mouse button and then awarded with a majestic SHIFT+DELETE key combination.

4. Participants are invariably presented with the map of the miniscule college premises that never actually tally with the real layout of the college.

5. Participants are invariably presented with the useless assortment of files, pens, scribbling pads, CDs and other odds and ends that invariably end up in the local dust bin or in front of a cycle's handlebar.

6. Events which were originally planned to be held in such-and-such timings are invariably held at all timings except the such-and-such time.

7. Lunch is provided at prices that would have made Dhirubai Ambani think twice before eating. In case lunch is provided free of cost, it is made sure that it is so lousy that the Ambhani brothers would have hugged each other rather than partake the offerings. And without any seating arrangements.

8. Events are conducted by final year students who are in no mood to conduct an event, but to have loads of fun. If at all events are conducted with some seriousness, care is taken to ensure that the host has absolutely no knowledge what he is doing. Sounds like something right out of an Alistair Mclean book involving a commando mission doesn't it? "The little you know the better".

9. Usually, the quiz is the worst affected. It either involves a selection of questions copy pasted from the first hit in google for the keyword "quiz" and a visual-round that consists of videos lifted from encyclopedias, or a desperate attempt at outdoing the previous year's Odyssey quiz.

10. The host invariably tries to emulate Derek O'Brien, but ends up being worse than the fellow who used to conduct "A question of Answers" on DD. Nothing against him though.

11. Prizes are distributed at the end of the day to all those participants who were the friends of the hosts. Participation Certificates are awarded to all other honest participants.

12. Prize money is usually so large that the winners invariably have to file Income Tax returns. The money however vanishes into thin air after a few samosas at the local canteen.

For further details of a first-hand experience, contact my good friend Mahesh.

So, I sincerely advice you to not got to any of the culturals unless you know the host on a first-name basis, or want an upset stomach, or of course want to improve your visual acuity. Otherwise, better sit at home and try to figure out the probability of selecting a defective component from a selection of a thousand un-biased pieces.

Yours Symposially,
Sundar.

Friday, February 24, 2006

Two Fingers and an Ankle

My last post made a reference to two fingers and an ankle. It has been interesting to discover certain parallels in history.

Achilles was born to Peleus, the king of Myrmidons in Phthia and his wife, the sea-nymph, Thetis. When he was born, his mother tried to make him immortal by dipping him in the river Styx. However, the holy water did not touch his ankle, where his mother held him with her index and middle finger. Hence, Achilles weak spot was his heel. In the Trojan war, his rival Hector kills him with an arrow directed at his one weak spot. How he managed to aim an arrow at the heel of an opponent who was running at Olympic Record Speeds is a different story altogether. So much for the ankle. What about the two fingers? Achilles' mother Thetis became a prolific writer and a much in-demand journalist, who is said to be one of the forerunners of investigative journalism. Where did she get this ability to write well from? From the strength her fingers received from dipping a baby in a river.

Well, I made most of the last parts of the story myself. Homer never makes any reference to the strength Thetis might have received from dipping her fingers into a river.

I have never read Illiad or Odyssey or Landmark or whatever. This are all one hundred percent courtesy Wikipedia.

Yours Mythologically,
Sundararajan.S

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Two Fingers and an Ankle

I think I am just not made to play strenuous sports like cricket. This is because I just cant seem to be able to return from a cricket match without having been inflicted by a grevious injury. If you're an Anna University student, You'll know that four of our examinations were postponed. If you are not an Anna University student, then Buzz off.

Three days before I was to take on the Maths III Examination, I was working hard at the cricket ground trying to save my team from losing by attempting to do some spectacular wicket-keeping. A certain character called Robin who seems to have hot blood rushing through his veins eternally, was the chucker(bowler). He literally let her rip. All that I could see of the ball was a yellow streak rushing along a foot above the ground. Conventional wisdom would have suggested that I either try to stop it with my foot, or let it go all together, come hell or high water. I however decided nothing is too fast for me and plunged my hand (My right hand) bravely into the oncoming incarnation of Satan. The ball made its way right in-between my little finger and my ring finger, and proceeded merrily all the way to the boundary. (The ball was a wide, hadn't touched the bat and needed no stopping, according to our rules).

Three weeks later, I visited an orthopedician, who was of the opinion that the swelling was due to the accumulation of some goddamn fluid. Why is it goddamn? Try writing four exams with your little finger pointing to the heavens. This incidentally is the same injury Harbhajan Singh is suffering from right now with his bowling finger. He recommended physiotherapy, prescribed some of the most costliest medicenes ever invented, took a hundred rupees and roared off in a Mercedes(little wonder). The physiotherapist massaged my finger with some gel...whether I received physiotherapy or not she did...she was panting at the end of the session. Each session costed Rs 50/- a nominal ammount. I avoided the place with fervour thereafter.

But my woes were not to be over. A week after the finger injury, before visiting the doc., I was doing some spectacular fielding... I ran after a ball that was travelling like a tortoise, picked it up and threw it back to the bowler. Then I as I was running back to my position, stepped on a brick, which lent itself to some rolling and the next thing I knew, I was staring up at the skies with a sprained ankle...thank God I didnt consult the doc for that. The injury still hasn't left me.

Now, a week ago, when I felt that all my bad times were over and was confident enough to convince a reluctant Harish to give up his wicket-keeping post back to me, Vinod, who we all affectionately know as Aavi_wall, bowled a sharp delivery, which the batsman completely missed. I placed my hand at the right place, but my thumb was a touch reluctant in getting out of the path of the bullet. What resulted was a wounded thumb, which I am even unable to use even for signing my autograph.

In retrospect, I think I should have gone for my other passion...sky-diving. Here, you either survive or you dont. There is no in-between and there is no pain involved.

Yours injuredly,
Sundar.

P.S. : What is your opinion about the subject?

Friday, February 17, 2006

Impact of British Rule in India

Sometimes I feel that many aspects of the British rule in India did do a lot of good despite having adverse effects on India. I am not an expert on history, being a mega failure at the subject in school, but of what little I did understand, I believe the British could have been a bit more lenient in their rule, thereby prolonging their rule in India benefitting both themselves and Indians. For one, they could have given British citizenship to all Indians, and treated them as equals. Indians could have been given equal representation in the parliament.

Gandhi wanted Swaraj for the individual. He wanted every individual to have the fundamental rights of religion, speech, suffrage, action and any other fundamental right I may have forgotten. I feel that if the British Government had been so willing, they could have done a better job of providing these than what our current governments are doing.

India got part of its heritage from the British rule. India's railways, postal servvices, legal and judicial systems, and other government based services are all derived mainly from the British systems. British rule actually helped unite India, which till then was quite fragmented. India is great in its culture and its values, but the British were better off in terms of technology and were good in planning. For example, in their Summer base in Shimla from where they ruled, they had a Fire Extinguishing system long before today's electronic devices were available. The roof of every room had neatly arranged pipelines that had little holes on them which were covered in wax. If a fire were to break out, the wax would get melted and cold water would then fall on the fire from the pipes, thereby extinguishing the fire or bringing the fire under control or atleast giving people a bit of time to get to safety. I would not say they were economically stronger, for if they had not looted a lot of stuff from here, the economic strength of a united India would have been far greater than Her Majesty's treasuries.

In general had the British rule continued (in the way I described above), Our country would have been better developed, economically stronger and a more powerful force and a painful partition need never had happened. In a lighter vein, our cricket team would have consisted of Jayasuriya, Flintoff, Inzi, Akhtar and many others and we would have felt truely happy had they performed well.

Well, that was not to be and I love My motherland no matter what its shortcomings are. There is no point thinging of the ifs and the buts over something that is over and long gone.

I know that many patriots will respond to these radical views in my blog saying that we needed to be independent and all that, but I believe they would have been quite happy under British rule if only it had been more friendly and not so opppressive.

Yours patriotically,

Sundar

Deleted Posts

I have deleted a couple of my previous posts as they were... um... incriminating... I have them saved on my computer now. You can view it by requesting for it in person.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

Some Kadis

These are some Kadis I recieved some years ago that were still in my inbox. You might be knowing most of these, but hey I tried them on a younger cousin of mine and he didnt know most of them. So, here I put up a list of Kadi jokes that were once famous...

person1: oru erumba "cut" panna enna Aagum..
person2: "cuterumbu" aayidum....
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nabar 1: Enpa ippadi cigarette pudikkara
nabar 2: Ippadi than pudikanum, thiruppi pudicha
naaku suttudum
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nabar 1: cigarette pudicha cancer varum
nabar 2: Illaye,nan pudikkum bothu Pogai than vandhudhu
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nabar 1: yen cigarette pidikkure
nabar 2: pidikklaiyanna keela vilundudum
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Person 1 : Unga ponnuku entha vasanai pudikkum ?
Person 2 : Pakkath veetu Srinivasana-i pudikkum
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Person1 : What is the opposite of PENGUIN ?
Person2 : AAN KING (!)
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Q:Which Bird can lift heavy things ?
A:'Crane'
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Q:Which bird can write
A:'Pen'guin
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Q:Pura(Dove) kittayum, Anil(Squirel) kittaiyaum letter anupicha edhu correcta poi serum?
A:Anilthan, yenna adhu kittathan Pin Codu Irukku.
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A: What is the opposite of MAZHAIMEGAM
B: Mazhai may not come!!
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Person 1: What's opposite of Krishnaswamy ?
Person 2: Krishna did not see me!
Person 1: then what's opposite of Krishnaveni?
Person 2: Theriyalaiyea!
Person 1: T.Nagar Bus stand! (He! He! (Krishnaveni theatre is opposite to T.Nagar Bus stand at Madras)
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Teacher: What is the opposite of Area?
Student: Yeranguya !
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MAN 1: "Ponnuku enna vaiasu aavarudhu " ?
MAN 2:"Aadi vandha... 16 mudiyum "
MAN 1:"Appo Aaadama vandha ???? "
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Two College students finish their History exam and walk out of the exam hall. First Student: Vaa Tea saapadalaam .
Second Student: Ippo Dhaane COPY (...kapi/Coffee..) adicche ..Yedukkuda Tea?
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Customer : Waiter! Yennai-paa saapad-lei oery ambathu-paisa coins-aa iruku?"
Waiter : "saar neenga thaaney meals-il change vennun-nu sonningey !"
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What is the similarity between krishna jayanthi and communism?
Kaal marks.
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How do flies communicate?
eee-mail
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What is the similarity between short circuit and poramai?
Wire-eriyarthu
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What is the similarity between boxing and goddess kali?
Naak-out
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Deepavalikkum pongalukkum yennanga vithyaasam?
Deepavali annikku pongal saapadalaam aana Pongal annikku Deppavaliya sapda mudiyaadhu.
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LIC oda 14th floorla sandhanam poosi yirukkanga.Yaen?
Yaenna adhu Mottai maadi.
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Oru annanum thangachchiyum oadi varranga. Annan maelmoochu vangaraan. Thangachchi? Ava Female moochchu vaanguvaaa
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Eli(adhaanga Rat) adhukku yaen vaal yirukku?
Seththa pudichchu thookki poada.
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LEO coffee a yaen kalyanam pannikka mudiyaadhu?
Yaenna "Manamaana" coffee LEO coffee
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Mylapore-kkum, Mandaveli-kkum sandai vandha edhu win-pannum?
Mylapore, yenna avangakitta tank irukku.
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Russia-la yen kosu-ve illai?
Yen-na, anga Kosukku vera peyar.
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Yen, cinema theatre-la A-row la irukkara-vangalukku cinema ozhungave theriyalai?
Enna, A-row-kku munnala B-row (Bero) irukku.
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Yen, desert-la irukkara post-office-la ellarum letter ezhudhittu, stamp vangittu, veliya pora?
Enna, veliya dhan otta-gum irukku.
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Ramar (the mythological character) sithai-yathedindu lankai
kelambumbodhu kadal-ai thaandarathukku varar. Appo enna achariyam! Kadal avarukku appadiye vazhi vittuduthu. Yaen?
Enna, Where there is a will, there is a way.
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Raja Harischandra use panna paste enna?
Promise.
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Traffic Inspectors enna paste use pannuva?
Signal.
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Harischandra-kku pudicha biscuit enna?
True.
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Bus-ai pinnala thallina enna aagum?
Pin valayium.
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Oru yanai (elephant) vegama ration kadai pakkam odarathu. Athu anga enna vangum?
Muchu Vangum.
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Oru English therinja maadu(cow) theatre pakkam porathu. Anga theatre kadhavai kadikka arambichuduthu! Yen?
Enna, Kadhavula "Pull"-nnu ezhudhirukku.
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Japanese, Leaning Tower of Pisa kattina adhukku enna per veppa?
Nikumo-Nikado
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Mahathma Gandhijikkum, Kunnakudi Vaidyanathanukkum yenna vidyasam? Avar Non-violinist. Vaidyanathan Violinist.
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Spin Bowlarruku pen kuzhandai perandal enna payru vaipar?
Bala Tiruppura Sundari
************
Independence day-kkum Republic day-kkum yenna vidyasam?
Sumar, anjara maasam.
************
Oru maami idli-a thalaila vechinda. Yaen?
Enn-na idli poo pola irundhudhu.
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Kadri Gopalnath - Kunnakudi jugalbandi censor board banpannina.Yaen?
Romba Sax and violins