I love you, little man! (BH:D 301)

June 1, 2012

When I saw him this morning, he was asleep. A grand, serene silence within his delicate, fresh self. With a tiny thoughtful left thumb on his chin, he was passed around from aunty to grandmom to grandmom. Occasionally he would twitch a little if the white towel blanket slipped off his toes. I had felt those twitches in the past few weeks while talking to him when he had still been in his mom!

Much earlier in the day Achan's voice had woken me up. 2:35 am. I had slept for three hours. "Hospitalil ponam" (Need to go to the hospital) he said.

For the last couple of days, the home had been gearing up for the impending birth. Bags for the hospital had been packed.

2:45am. The father-to-be was ready with the car. My sister, ever so brave, stood with a grim expression. I stroked her forehead. She tried to smile. Since childhood I have been familiar with her incredible ability to bear pain. I knew this was totally different. Yet, she held on strong. 

A car full of folks left for the hospital. Me left manning the house. I tried to sleep next to the phone. Sleep had left in the car too. Flipped through song sequences on the channels. 

4:30. Ring. "He is here" Proud and ecstatic daddy's voice.

4:45. Amma called with details. "Normal delivery. Saw the baby. Looks like his dad. 4:19 birth time. June 1st baby." Ah! nephew birth begins the month and uncle birthday ends it. The little dude just missing the 4:20 birth time. I will regularly bring it up for the rest of our friendship!

For all the scary stories we had heard about hours and all day long births, this was pretty quick. As Suresh Gopi irritatingly repeats before the commercial breaks in the local version of 'Who wants to be a millionaire?': 'deey poyi, daa vannu' ! (went fast, came soon).

I was told that my sister screamed once in the car and then a few times during the final minutes. The timeless shrieks of the mother nature as a new consciousness tunnels through!

Everyone I shared the news with invariably asked about the Malayalam birth star. As soon as they hear it, they try to remember some saying about how men born under the star become great. They try. They fail. I helpfully point out that the stellar-named "Sri Chithira Thirunaal" was the last king of Travancore.

Since I wished to see him awake, I was back at the hospital by 6pm. The mom and baby are in the same room 207 at Lords Hospital where I had spent a few days in November! The step up to the attached bathroom of the room appeared rather short today. It had been a challenge when I had to negotiate it post surgery.

Sure enough the little man was taking in the world fixing his sight carefully. I was graced as well. Then off he went into a rock star mode. Total lip syncing and fist pumping! My nephew!

Election Fever (BH: D300)

May 31, 2012

My new regular India gig (more about it in a few days) takes me through parts of the city I had rarely visited all my life here. Universe beyond Karamana junction didn't exist for me during school days. 

Two days of commuting have impressed with the busy life in areas like Kaimanon, Nemom, Karakkamandapam, Pappanamcode, Vellayani and Pravachambalam. Decades ago, these used to be place names I heard on the radio when folks from there placed requests for songs in "Ishtaganangal". I remember entire families used to write in for certain songs. Felt fake at that time. 

But as traffic inches through the narrow two lane highway that connects Thiruvananthapuram to Kanyakumari, I long for families that would request soothing songs. Instead the FM station in the stuffy Bolero that smells faintly like a wet dog (it had rained heavily two nights ago, backseat window must have been open) repeatedly reminds that it is world No-Tobacco Day. Some "chechi" who suggested the slogan "Put out tobacco before it puts you out!" won the slogan contest. 

The route passes through the heartland of Neyyatinkara constituency where elections are due the day after. Hotly contested and relevant! The state has been reeling under price hikes (blame the UDF) and the gruesome murder of T.P. Chandrasekharan (blame the LDF). The BJP tries to capitalize by fielding yet again their veteran candidate O. Rajagopal.

On the flux boards, cut outs and ubiquitous political posters, Rajagopal is the odd man out. The other two, Selvaraj and Lawrence, have more Tamilian than Malayali looks if one were to ascribe reality to those stereotypes. Actually the places listed above progressively lean more towards a Tamil culture, progressively used strictly in the geographical sense. The color combinations do become high contrast. Buses and business have Tamil writing.

At home, prep work for my sister's impending hospital trip and delivery are underway. Exciting times!

The Tale of Two Events (BH: D299)

May 30, 2012

One of the greatest benefits of all the social networking and chatting technology that I am shamelessly addicted to is the possibility of having contrasting chats simultaneously.

Classic example yesterday. Two recent events in the United States are discussed. Both were crowd pullers in their own sense. But the organizing and attitudes from the inner portals couldn't be more different.

The O-so-talented (O being his green card category) Shyam worked with Beyonce on her comeback Revel concert. He was the graphics artists for four of the songs. He was on FB chat yesterday telling me about the 14-16 hour days he had to put in. 

He gushed about the sense of humor and perseverance of Beyonce. "So down-to-earth," he said. Given her humongous global appeal, she had every right not to be! But then she isn't born in a culture that teaches that being a snob is the fundamental requirement to stardom.

The other chart I was having on Gmail was discussing precisely such a culture. Indian. Specifically south Indian. A fundraiser in Texas. Some Indian celebrities in attendance. Somehow having been in films is automatically considered scholastic ability. So the "stars" get plenty of time to air whatever is in their airy heads while others are cut short and rushed to badly timed flights.

The real shocker, however, was the treatment meted out to the accompanying artists who don't have the 'star' status. So they get less than zero attention from the great organizing minds. Accompanying musicians to a concert singer weren't even given the facility to call their families back home in India to let them know of their safe arrival. These artists, most of them with no knowledge of English were left to fend for themselves with a despicable $10 allowance. 

At A&M, the SPICMACAY had an exemplary tradition of hosting and treating the visiting artists well. So I know that what I heard yesterday isn't universal. And Granted what I have is second hand information but I consider it worth mentioning so that such horrendous treatment is not meted out to other Indians brought over in the name of festivals, concerts and fundraisers. 

Of course, it is widely accepted that the major thrust of most of these India club organized events is getting drunk and other thrustings. But inhuman treatment of artists is simply a shame. It is a culture that is worth abandoning. 

Suck up, by all means, to celebrities, but just don't treat others who are not stars in your narrow minds like dirt. Organizers in this case aren't uneducated third rate thugs, but supposedly highly educated shining beacons of so called Indian success in a foreign land. Inexcusable!

Odd Size (BH:D 298)

May 29, 2012

I don't know if it happens to everybody else, but every single time that I can remember shopping for trousers/pants/jeans, I have found myself on the cusp in the trial room. My waist will precisely be between the two available sizes. It is an observation in front of the trial room mirror that invariably triggers unachievable resolutions of dieting and unattainable standards of physical fitness.

Despite having a horrendous experience months ago, I ventured to the the nearby Megamart simply because it is the closest textile showroom. The lethargic sales team has disappeared. Judging from the speed with which they were assisting customers and billing all those months ago, it must have taken them quite a while to make the unceremonial exit from the business. 

The new bunch is reasonably aggressive. "Buy two, get two free, Saare" one of the pointed to the little signage propped up on the shelf with stacks of folded pants. "But it is better to go for the buy three, get one free option. Or you can do both and get seven total." I was in no mood to dive into the depths of that mathematical and logical conundrum. I rushed to the trial room and took off my pants; which is a tried and tested line of action when faced with conundrum. 

Waist-wise I was fine but the pants flowed over my feet to the floor for a few more inches. I could pretend to be a Ming dynasty empire courtier and moved with baby feet pretending the excess length was part of the plan. But my meeting tomorrow doesn't involve time travel. I raised the length issue.

"We can alter it here, Sir," said the eager young man. But the slightly older woman at the counter rolled her eyes. Eye to eye an invisible message was passed. "But you will get it only tomorrow morning," the young man delivered the invisible message to me. I gave up and went all the way to the Levi's store at Pulimoodu.

A bit less confusing discount schemes there as well. I end up making unnecessary shirt and tshirt purchases because Daniel Kahneman is right about anchoring and framing. More temptation even after the billing. "Rs. 250 discount on any purchase over Rs. 750 that is done after 48 hours from this billing time but before June 10!"

Sam Pitroda was in the city yesterday to discuss big time, long term future plans. He wants Thiruvananthapuram to have a "Knowledge City" in collaboration with MIT and Harvard. 300 acres for land will be acquired for the project. I wonder what discount schemes and offers work in the real estate business! And if large scale land grabbers find themselves stuck in odd sizes.

Marriage Bus (BH: D297)

May 28, 2012

Though it might sound like the 'gravy train', the 'marriage bus' is a totally different beast. It has rapidly evolved into several mutant species that are visible in different parts of the land, flourishing during what is termed the marriage season and includes all of spring, most of summer and autumn. Close to the equator, here technically there is no winter.

I rode in my uncle's car tracking a specimen marriage bus this morning. Destination: cousin's wedding. We had driven all the way to "Marakkadamukku" (Wood shop intersection) past Attingal on the way to Varkala. We had driven past the Attingal queen's palace and over Kollam river. I remembered a recently heard joke: "Q: Why does Thiruvananthapuram have so many lanes and alleys to get from any point A to point B besides the right royal main road? A: Because the king made quick trips to the several wives distributed around the capital."

As mentioned couple of days earlier, walking into the wedding ceremony of a much younger cousin, in a hall brimming with well-wishing, concerned relatives, demands preparation from any older unmarried cousin. I had been using the writing of three stalwarts of Malayalam literature for the prep work. M.K. Menon ('Vilasini'), poet Kunjiraman Nair and the recently deceased scholar Sukumar Azhikode had all been unmarried. Since the questions and expected answers about my marital state were to be in Malayalam, I thought it'd be inappropriate to summon help from the likes of Vajpayee, Abdul Kalam and Narendra Modi.

I had pretty much readied versions of Sukumar Azhikode's answer to Akbar Kakkattil as reported in 'Sarga Sameeksha', a priceless volume of interviews with 25 of the greatest Malayalam writers. When asked why he stayed single, Azhikode says that when he was young, somehow he got the notion that getting hitched would curb his individual freedom forever. He goes on to say that his life has proved his hunch to be right. He retained the power to be angry. He retained the freedom not to worry about upsetting powers that be. He could take decisions without worrying much about the consequences that crop up with having a family. 

Seizing on this answer, Kakkattil follows up with a humorous and brilliant: "Hoping that you won't get angry, let me get this clarified; are you suggesting that married folks like me are enslaved and gutless?

Azhikode's reply: "As a married man, you cannot now get unmarried to verify the truth in what I am saying. But the unmarried me can get married to see how it feels. I still retain that freedom. What about you?! That's the difference"

The quip went down surprisingly well with my concerned uncles today. It is far too easy to turn the tables on most of the champions of the nuptials among relatives by bringing up their own state of the union! Universally, it leads to playful humor followed by thoughtful silence leading to grim observation of the distant horizon. 

Those who know me well know that I pride in swinging both ways. It doesn't take much to get help from other gems of literature who have spent lives devoted to their wives or lovers. Any Neruda line can decimate the Azhikodan philosophy. Two of my personal favorites, R. K. Narayan and P.G. Wodehouse cherish marriage, both in life and in their fiction. Hopefully soon, I will have the chance to pull out those contrasting quotes and do a turncoat. 

Got the opportunity to return home from the marriage using the grand Kerala Road Transport Corporation buses. An ordinary one till Attingal and an L.S.F.P (Limited Stop Fast Passenger) back into the city. At Kallambalam stop, an American dude asks if the bus would go to Kovalam. Vigorous head bobbing by the passengers in the front seat makes him retreat. Not convinced, his female companion climbs into the bus and talks to the driver directly.

"Trivandrum? Yes?"

"No! Attingal only!" 

They continue to wait in the noon sun. Bus stops are Kerala's natural tanning salons.

At the Attingal bus stop, busy enumerating pros and cons of marriage, I get into the wrong bus. Luckily I figure out that the "Vellanadu" via "Nedumangadu" board was "East Fort" only in my imagination. The LSFP that soon comes by takes 45 minutes to get into the city. 

It's been many years since I travelled this route in a public service bus. We used to take the bus frequently when I was in school. We had no car then. The trips were to attend marriages much of the time. 

Vomit enhanced trips! 

I was convinced in those days that lemons are distributed at weddings so that people can suck on them and sink that vomitting sensation while going back home in the speeding, swerving, rust-smelling bus behemoth after the heavy variety feast.

Trivially Stuffed (BH: D296)

May 27, 2012

Off to Barton Hill Engineering College in the city at 9 am to take part in the Karnataka Quiz Association Mahaquizzer, 2012 with Shri M. It's been at least six years since I have taken part in any quiz. So was excitedly ready for that jolt of sweet embarrassment. 

Youngsters and their guardians' posteriors appear through the windshield as we near the college gate. Mighty clean windshield for Shri M's brand new car had only been delivered yesterday night. "Look...unshaved, messy beard and spectacles...surely a quizzer!" we observe.

But the numbers don't make sense. Dozens of cars in the campus. Has Trivandrum been a closeted trivia enthusiast paradise all these years? Has she chosen this Sunday to out herself? Tough questions! Simple answer in the form of a cloth signage: JIPMER entrance exam, 2012 in the Main Block. Ah!

Down to the Main block via an ancient set of stairs among a dwindling outgrowth of Neems, Acacias and Tamarinds. Graffiti of self proclaimed regal clubs of engineers on the only-at-birth painted walls. It is amazing how an engineering college is simply a collection of buildings squeezed together in a campus. No sight of any amenities, sports arenas or even a decent open space park. 

We hunt among the aspirant candidates and perspirant parents for any sign of a Mahaquizzer direction. The quiz master is telephoned twice before he responds. "I am in one of the IT labs." 

We climb uphill from the Main block to the oldest tile-roofed, creeper sporting buildings. Sure enough the sagely Arul Mani is found in the "Server Room."

The quiz begins at 10am. Few interesting acquaintances made beforehand. 150 questions, 90 minutes. When one arrives hoping to answer 5%, getting 15% right is a quizzer high. There are around 50 participants. Good mix of topics. 

The answer discussion makes it clear that the majority are ardent quizzers, devote trivialists. Dude with 44 tops. Lady with 30 comes first among women. Karnataka Quiz Association proclaims that a Lady's topper prize is given to reaffirm that there are avid women quizzers. But everybody knows the real reason. I am not recounting questions here because they'd be available online with answers.

We decide to stay back for the open quiz in the afternoon. Quick lunch of Ajwa chicken biriyani (not sponsored by KQA)

Around half as many as the morning make it for the afternoon session. The quiz is in AJM format. According to the quiz master, this format, though it expands to unmentionable full form in Kannada, was invented in Trivandrum and now has become popular all over India. It ensures that nobody sits out as the quiz progresses. After select rounds, the last two teams are distributed among the other teams. Thus in the end we are left with two big teams. 

The open quiz lasted two hours with a great mix of visual and connection clues. America-related questions got me particularly fretting. A question on barbed wire types mentioned Osage Orange. There was an Osage orange (also known as Horseapple) tree at the edge of Bee Creek park behind my apartment in College Station. There was a map question asking to identify the region in Kansas and around where special construction restrictions apply. It is totally different feeling when one encounters questions about stuff one had been intimately familiar with.

There was the question asking what's manufactured in Bradford, Penn state and claimed to be "wind proof." A rather twisted connection about the Sarge in Beetle Bailey and Columbus. Visual clue about the old chinese restaurant in Edinburgh with a red facade that has shot to literary fame in the last couple of decades. 

Answers for the day ranged from Sopanam music to Rabies to candle light and the Hind Swaraj. Plenty refreshed, plenty cool stuff learnt. Nothing makes one feel younger than making new connections about old, forgotten things. 

The feverish, belligerent nature among hardcore trivia nerds back in the 90s which used to create unbearable heated discussions about absolutely trivial matters was conspicuously absent. Also absent, thankfully, was the sort of inbreeding that one sensed in the quizzing circles then where only select few could make it into the cult which had its own quirky, obscure honor and humor codes.

I believe there is the market and the need for a weekend quizzing circle in the city possibly tied to some coffee joint. Will explore the possibilities in the coming weeks.

A rich Sunday experience. 

I'll end the note with a great question: Which famous author dropped a five letter part of his name upon publisher's insistence in the 1930s but then that dropped part happened to the hero's name of his first acclaimed novel?

Fishy Headache (BH: D295)

May 26, 2012

Incredible details of the recent software engineer suicide in Bangalore are surfacing. The 25 year old from Kerala was contact by a lady about a loan. She then assumed the false identity of "Jennifer" who works in IBM. Chats, emails and phone calls soon left the realm of loans far behind. 

He wished to see her. She sent him the photograph of her good looking friend. She created a false facebook profile with the same photo. He wanted to meet her. He wanted to marry her. She invented a story about her family forcing her to marry a "David in London." 

He was heart broken. He wound up his feet with duct tape sitting in the back seat of his car, swallowed an overdose of sleeping pills, stuffed a cloth in his mouth, covered his head with a plastic bag suffocating to death. The first phone call was in January. The suicide in May.

The incident points to so many things that are wrong with the society. This is not an isolated incident. Numerous along the same lines but of varying degrees of severity happen daily. It is a gruesome mix of wealth, loneliness, delusion, greed, inferiority, superficiality and technology. 

Driving through PTP Nagar in the city this morning, totally stunned by a drop dead gorgeous police woman on the road side. As if to seal the "drop dead" status, she had a holster which I am not sure if police women usually have. Actually, I haven't really paid much attention to details of female cops for my own sake in India. The attitude here is much different from Texas where a lady officer once was only too happy to let me gauge the weight of her belt.

I say once but my mathematical memory is admittedly overwhelmed by the emotional one about that story. Anyways, genuine surprise for a moment at the decent amount of make up Kerala police women have started wearing before spotting the huge camera and crew on the other side of the road and realizing that she was an actress in costume.

Heard a rather interesting story about a friend of a friend as stories tend to be in India. The man returned from work one day to find all the gold fish in his neat little aquarium dead and floating. His little kid was only too happy to own up to the crime. It wasn't a crime in his boy book. 

The budding doctor was only trying to help. He said the fish spoke to him!

They came near the glass walls and repeatedly told him, "I have a headache!" 

Rest us humans who don't have the ability to understand 'fish speak' tend to think that the fish are simply swallowing by moving their mouth. Apparently it is a constant migraine complaint....you know like the ones that inflict the bedroom with unequally enthusiastic partners. So the little boy helped the fish out.

He gave them Crocin tablets to relieve their pain! Of course, he knew they couldn't swallow the big pills. So he powdered a few of them and sprinkled into the water. Humane!

Back to back trips to native village coming up in the next two days. My young cousin bro is getting married. I've fabulous unmarried older cousin role to play. Looking forward to the several entertaining rounds of "life" advice from concerned relatives. Fun!