Holi Hai!!!

Holi! The festival of colors! (Follow the link for more details) Let me start by wishing you all a very happy holi and may this year brings to you and your family happiness and joy at par with the vivid colors this festival showers at us. This festival has a very long and rich history. (Something you can read in wiki if you are interested that is.) Let me come down to the things that are most memorable for people like us.
As most of my life I have lived in north India, I may have some different perspective of this festival. It starts with the Holika dhanan (The Holi bonfire). Preparations used to start many days ago where we all would pick up a place and start stacking up wood for the bonfire. Day by day it used to increase in size. Some times there was competition of whose bonfire pile is bigger or taller etc. (This by the way cleaned up all the mess created in a year by fallen tree branches, bushes, leaves and what not. Cleans up the city I say) On choti holi or what we can say is a day before holi we have the bonfire, a mark of start of holi, and enjoy. (Holi has started).
Holi is the day when we all come out and meet everyone, put colors on each other. Offer sweets, refreshing drinks and colors to people coming to home. This thing goes on till late afternoon after that we would clean up. (a tough thing to do after being painted black, blue, red). The milan (meeting, wishing and eating sweets) does not stop. Many times the milan goes on for days altogether. Many of you might remember putting oil and other creams before coming out to play. Elders generally played with dry colors (gulal) and kids (us) with strong wet color and lots of water. These colors take a lot of time to go also (Many times it takes weeks before the color comes of). Many on the roads are seen playing with paint. There are many variants also where you can use colored water, balloons, mud and what not. Bhang is the official thing used to get high on that day.
What remains of holi is a funfilled day or days (whatever is your idea) with pink, green, silver and all the other colors still on your face even after the skin is raw after scrubing, torn cloths (yes! It is fashion, tear the cloths. And some times people find it hard to cover up as everything goes… gross some say) and lots of memories…
Happy holi to all of you there again and enjoy this day of colors. :)

Engineering Disaster

This is not about all the destructive thing engineering has given to world. This post is not on explosives, tanks etc, it’s not on destroying anything (well not intentionally at least.) Well with this disclaimer let me start.
From very early I was fascinated with the engineering world. I used to love watching the Steam Locomotives and ask dad all sorts of silly questions. Watch the video of the rocket launches and imagine being a part of one such launch one day. To the extent that, I had opened up all my toys to see what is inside them. What makes it make noise, or give up sparks, why some of them when pulled back goes in front, why does the talking doll talks, I even blew up the small “hot wheels” to see how strong they are, opened up the small dc motors (and think how can this thing go round and round?) As I grew up, the understanding of such things improved, but the habit did not go. To the extent I even opened up the old TV the day new TV came inside the house. Opened up mixies, irons, even the scooter (I was amazed when I opened up the engine and then the equally amazed mechanic came to fix it,) I had opened up cameras and what not. I used to make things too. Small kaleidoscope, telescope (well you could not see much through but it was a good one) and many more things.
All this was attributed to my dad who also been an engineer would open up the home appliance to fix it himself and I would tag along with him. My mom also got used to it with time. There were some success in such experiments and more often then not there were disasters, what my mom used to call engineered disasters. Here are some such disasters.
Disaster one!
Once the mixer grinder we had stopped working. So mom asked dad to get it fixed. Dad as usual kept saying yes then conveniently forgot all about it. After a week of such daily routine ignorance dad got, well let’s just say, an ultimatum. So on a weekend he picked up the thing and started working on it. Me happily got tagged in as an assistance. What followed was a brief happiness of success and an engineered disaster. The mixer grinder got fixed ok! It worked for a day also, but then it started giving electric shocks every time it was switched on. Since only mom used it she got quite a few of them. Then she picked the thing up and threw it in the trash can and got a new mixer grinder. It wasn’t just that. Even the work area where we worked was a disaster. Oil spill, tools thrown here and there, wires, paper and many such things. After work dad and I happy with the results left the place just like that. Mom had to fix that war zone (place where we worked) up too. Oh! By the way it took dad full 3 months to realize that we got a new mixer grinder. (May be because he hardly went to the kitchen)
Disaster two!

Desert water cooler

Most of you must know the thing called a water-cooler (Desert water cooler). This small metal box with a water tank, a fan, a water pump and Khus-Khus pad on the 3 sides, were prominent thing when Air-conditioners were not there. Or they were too costly and meant for the rich and famous. (So to pump the water on to the Khus-Khus pads these things have a small water pump. Mostly the Tullu brand!) One summer our Desert water cooler stopped working and the trouble was pinned down to the water pump. We needed a new one! So dad and I went to the market to get a new one. We saw a more powerful thing as compared to what we had and bought is quickly. Came back home, installed it and switched on the full thing. The pump worked like charm, throwing water with good pressure on the Khus-Khus pad and the fan blew out cool damp air. We were very happy. But this happiness was short-lived. What followed was that the pipes with in the thing could not sustain the pressure and burst open. Water spray started to pour out and into the room. By the time we could stop it the room was fully wet. Bed, table, books, actually the full bedroom. Mom was obviously mad at us but she calmed down when we helped her clean the mess up and get a smaller pump for us.

I got a bagful of such stories but they never stopped me or my mom and dad encouraging me to keep experimenting. Sometimes though, my mom says, “God bless your wife. Whosoever is she. :))
PS. Its not that we (dad and I) always had disasters. We had our share of successes. Will write about it some other day.

Best Dress Poll

Before I put up a new post let’s have a opinion poll on what is the best dress for girls.
Do consider the fact that this question is valid for special occasions. Like marriage and more. Start voting. This will be open till next week.

Marriage

Last week I went to a friend's marriage. Well Best friends marriage. "RG weds VR". Both of them were/are very good friends of mine since college time.
The thing started when one fine day I got a call from VR that finally the marriage is being fixed. Dates finalized. I was threatened with deadly consequences if I don't turn up. So I called up the others (those who got similar threatening) and planed out the trip.

AJ and RS were supposed to meet me in the night and then we were to leave for the shaadi (Marriage) on a train. Both were drunk when I met them. RS was (more) drunk and fell asleep as soon as he got on train. AJ and I started chit chatting. Then in the night (at around 1 AM) our destination came. AJ tried in vain, to get RS up. So I pinched RS hard. He got up. "Chal oye RS Moradabad aa gaya"(Moradabad is here lets go). To which RS replied "Aane de" (let it come) (some thing like that add of chote nawab ke bahaduri puruskar add). I tried again and this time he said "so what" and promptly went back to sleep. Trust me even Kumbhakarna (only the sleep part) was better I think. Some-how we got him off the train. AJ was kind of skeptical as we never got any invitations or no one was there to pick us up from station. But then what are friends for. On reaching VR’s home and initial bharat milap all of us were fell asleep.
Next day we got up, freshened up and had a gastronomic breakfast comprising of jalebi and Moradabadi dal. Then started the celebrations! Now let me tell you VR and family lives with many other relatives in a joint family system. And it is a very big family. When all of them come together it seems like the full barat. So people start poring in the small hall where all the rituals were supposed to take place. AJ was made the official photographer. It was almost like one of those K type serials. With lots of chachs and the chacis, buas and the phuphajis and their kids (we call them chilar or change in English) and god knows how many more relations. There was a new lot of chilars since last time. (Ok you dirty mind readers don’t get ideas…….) The day passed by quickly. In the night we were discussing who will go get K and SS. K doesn’t need any one to guide him. We also predicted that he would actually ride the rickshaw and let the rickshaw wala sit behind. SS on the other hand didn’t know any thing about the roads so some one had to go. Soon every one succumbed to sleep. At around 1:30 midnight I woke up and saw a silhouette of a giant at the door. Before I could say anything the figure launched him-self in the air and landed on one of the guys sleeping. In split seconds he was again in air, flying over my head, he landed on another poor chap leaving behind a faint oooooofffffffff (by the 1st guy he landed on). After few more jumps and few more injuries he switched on the lights. It was K around 6 feet and well builds. Imagine us poor fellows getting squashed by him. He told us that he had to ride the rickshaw making our inside full predictions come true. Then SS came in. (we all were sleeping and I think RS went to pick him up)
Day next: this is the day when all the happening things started. K, AJ and I were fighting our wits out with the entire family member to get some nechawar (you know when you take out a note rotate it in the air over the head of the bridegroom and give it to some one else) amount as the official photographer and his assistance and put it in the galla (or a sort of piggy bank). This was a good source of income but we gave a good amount to the bai (House helper) who works there and used the rest for buying the chilar party ice-creams (well there are more than 50 chilar there (approx)). Then we also started the bhai (brother) thing. Every one of us got a OM on our hand with Mehndi. Now the rule was that every one with this mark are a part of bhai cult (made only to enjoy this party) and when any one puts up the hand and say Bhai others have to show there hand and shout bhai. This was a instant hit and we did make a lot of noise like that. Then there was antakshari, pulling each others legs and what not. Now I think of it we had so much to do.
Next day was the D day for RG and VR as they were to get married. The day passed by as usual like the previous one with the addition of DS, AS, MM, SG, IL and NL. In the evening we all got dressed for the Shaadi. Boy! I must say that the girls were looking mind blowing with saree and suits. And we boys were also attracting lots of babe attention with our dresses and cool looks. (ok ok girls don’t be J ;)) The barat started at home. We all danced and had fun with lots of fireworks. We reached the final place where the garland exchange and the usual photo session happen. We ate, danced, got our pics taken, pulled each others legs, all ‘n’ all had loads of fun. Finally after the fere (going around the holy fire 7 times) they where pronounced husband and wife. (and no we dont have "now you may kiss the bride in such marriages! sad know ;))

Apart from the usual the full arrangement was too good and the bride and the bride groom looked really good. MFEO (made for each other) I say. We also felt that we all have grown up. This is the 1st marriage from our group. And inevitably we all will get married. (No I am not scared ;)) May god bless us all!

Coming back home

The scenery outside the window is moving fast. Trees, green fields, lakes, rivers, bridges, animals and people, all zooming backwards at a dizzying speed. This is when our hero is standing on the gate of the train. Wind sweeping through his hairs as he looks at the horizon ahead. The train slows down and as it comes to the station and finally stops. The railway station was hustling with people coming in and out of the city. He gets down and looking all around walks out of the station. The main entry/exit gates seemed to him like the main gates of a fort. The only gate to get inside the city or to get out of the city. As soon as he steps out he is greeted with a cacophony of blaring horns and engines. The auto-rickshaws, cycle-rickshaws, buses, tempos, scooters, bikes, people... it seemed like an organized chaos. He stares at them for some time then stops a tempo and gets in. Surrounded with strangers he looks outside the small window. “That building was not there when I was here last time!” Suddenly the old place where he had lived a life seems to be a new one. New buildings, cars, better roads... Some changes were prominent and some subtle. Soon he reaches the cross road from where he as to walk to home. He pays the tempo wala. “The cost has gone up from Rs 5 to Rs 8!” it seemed to him like a long time since his last visit. Soon he reached home. He is greeted warmly by mom and the doggy. The doggy was going nuts, wagging the tail furiously, barking, licking and jumping to get on to him. It’s amazing, how these animals win over your heart and become a part of your family.
He freshens up and sits down beside his mom. They start chatting. School friends, who is where doing what, who got married, small incidents that had happened lately, incidents what were a distant past, news politics, cars, neighbors, sports, office, crushes... the endless list. No work pressure, no getting up early to go to college, no cooking, just sleeping, eating and chatting.

Going back home is such a different feeling. Most of you must be working or studying in a different city. If you are a student then you must be going back home quite often. As soon as you get into work (especially if the work place is 3500 Km away) you tend to come back home after long time gaps. If you are outside the country then the gap increases. I figured that the farther you are less is the frequency to come back home. The less the frequency of coming back home the more nostalgia hits you.
But in the end it’s a nice feeling coming back home to your parents and pets. The unconditional love and affection! Gourmet food through out the stay and most of all no work (as in office work)

Hindustani Classical

Bangalore! a city, with discos, pubs and a good night life. (Ok! Ok! I know the city night life is till 11:30, but I know of some small places which stay open till 1 or 2 in the night. Sheesh….. It should me called till mid night life…) Now in this happening city there are many concerts, rock shows, shows and what not that keep. I have been to Aero-smith, Strings, Local Rock band competitions, Indian Ocean, Parikaram (with Saif Ali), Jonoon just to name few. But on Saturday I went for a Hindustani Classical show by Pandit Shivkumar Sharma (on Santoor) and Zakir Hussain (on Tabla).

I know this is completely a different genre of music, something people in India are going away form. A genre, that we generally attribute to old people, but let me tell you guys, you are wrong. I have being to many SPICMACAY programs and have seen these veterans do magic. Yesterday, I witnessed these two veterans do magic on the crowd of hundreds, mesmerizing and hypnotizing them. Well I was one of them (along with many more beautiful babes around me ;))

They started with playing some composition that had a cool soothing effect. After a while they stopped and told us that “It was a demonstration of tuning and sound balancing.” (God! I mean I can’t even play the guitar in tune and these guys I tell you can tune the instruments like they are playing music.) Then the music started. There were times when they were playing very slow and then they picked up the beats, finally the melodious crescendo would take us all to a new level. At times Zakir Hussain would tune his Tabla in the middle of the composition. He would pick up a small hammer and start hammering the Tabla. The best part was that he didn’t miss a beat, and hammered the Tabla along with the beat.

All n all it was an experience different from all the rest.

Ps. Go through the links with the names for more details.

Breaking News

Breaking News: Amitab Bachan is down with cough and cold.
This is what our media and news channel has reached.

I still remember the days when 9 Pm used to be the time when we all would sit together to listen to the Doordarshan news. It used to be of 20 min. ok! 30 min including some small and fixed Washing Powder Nirma or those “Tumhare kapre mere kapro se jayada safed kaise?” types of ads. Then there was “The World This Week” which used to come on Saturdays (well may be Friday, don’t remember….. Well my educated readers you can pitch in with the correct day in case you remember.) This used to be a full 1 Hr show with most importance given to the international news. (Remember watching Gulf War) Prannoy Roy single handedly took this small one hr show to what NDTV is today (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/NDTV). Then things changed. Cable TV was the order of the day. Suddenly there was a boom of news channels. News was on air 24X7. We were relieved as now dad could see the news any time. And we also didn’t miss out on our cartoon shows and mom could see her K type serials. But alas it was a short lived happiness. Soon Breaking news like the one shown above started to come.

Thinking of it now it was a time when we were new to so many options to watch. It was fun at times. You know dial chasing through the channels. New and improved ads, new serials, think of it as a boom of new ideas. But news channel then also used to show breaking news that really broke into the house. Remember 9/11, or Kargil war.

But lately it seems that the news channels are more, time not a factor and too less news. Or how else will you define the kind of Breaking News we get now a days. “Amitab Bachan came to receive his daughter in law” and then the question. “Why didn’t Abhishek come?” I say, the poor guys don’t even have privacy now. Some how, I have noticed that these reporters also came up with weird, irritating and some times funny questions too (well it’s funny to us when we think of it).

Here is another one, after Salman Khan was released from jail this sweet looking reporter comes to him and asks, “Now that you are out of the jail, how are you feeling?” Oh come on give me a break. Then there was the next question, “How are your parents feeling?”
This was the best one I think. Salman immediately pipes up saying, “My parents are devastated. They are really sad and trying to convince the authority that I should be put back to jail.”
Recently the TV news channels have also started showing full serials (Indian idol types). Soon we will be getting Breaking News like

Breaking News: The maid didn’t come to Ms. Chaddas home. She has logged an FIR for the mental trauma given to her on the unfaithful day.

Breaking News: Mr. Chopra’s head was broken by a flower, thrown along with the vase.

Breaking News: Another post by Abhinav was posted on Breaking News to make fun of us and the readership has increased as a result of this.