The Curious Case of Underdog Millionaire

And there he sat, amidst the bright stage with people biting their nails while their heart skipped more than just a beat, on the hot seat on his road to becoming a millionaire or “millioner” as some people would pronounce it. He couldn’t believe it in the first place that he actually was there. He was sitting on the hot seat of “Who wants to be a Millioner? Part 2”

Already a champ after mysterious circumstances…

I meant the game, not the Oscars. I play safe.

… there he was to make more so the show would attract more viewers than the last time when it hit an all time low…

Again, I meant the game, not the Oscars.

... they hoped to do better this time after having received complaints that million dollar questions such as ‘Who is the third musketeer from the book “The Three Musketeers”?’ were a puzzle even for Leonardo Da Vinci, …

Why wouldn’t it be? Dumas wasn’t even an embryo at that period. Hence the clever phrase.

… the questions were brought down so this time, they explicitly were a part of your own history.
So, the hero, with only 2 more questions to go for his second “victory”, he found it hard to open his eyes for the next question.

Host: Hey man! Don’t worry; this is going to be easy.
Hero: Oh really!? Dim down the over bright lights will you?
Host: Ha ha ha! Such humor from a former Chaiwala! Anyway, here is your 10 Million Rupees question.

“Which part of your body got hit by the famous book “The Three Musketeers” written by Alexander Dumas? Your options are
A. Nose
B. Head
C. Teeth
D. Butt ”

Hero: Hmmm… (intense thrilling music at the background while the hero thinks and rushes through his memories)
Host (to add to the tension): If you get this right, you will move one step closer to winning 20 million rupees.

I know math. So shut up.

The host had given an answer to the hero again, when they met at the restroom. Now the hero remembered being beaten up by the girl bully of his class.

Hero: It’s A. Head
Host (Whispers): Sure? Is it not C. Teeth?
Hero: The way I got hit, I would have an empty garage in my mouth. So, I’m sure it’s A. Head
Host: Are you sure it’s not an empty garage up there?

Sometimes I can be mundane.

Host: Anyway, I’ll lock it. Computer! Please lock A. Head please!

After a deliberate break, the Host shouts in ecstasy that the hero got it right.

Host (slowly): Here is your final and 20 million dollar question!

“What is the name of the book with which you received a bashing at school? Your options are
A. History Book
B. The Three Musketeers
C. The Telephone Directory
D. Beat yourself with Fountain Head by Ayn Rand after reading it “

Hero: hmmm…Gosh! I don’t seem to remember!

That explains the bitter incident, confirming the answer to the previous question.

Host: Well, you have one life line left. It’s called “Phone your girlfriend”. You have time for personal questions too as the number has been added to our “Closed User Groups”. So, the call is free of charge.

The Hero calls up his girlfriend and asks her the question.

Girlfriend: Are you alright??
Hero (Elated): Yes, I am!
Girlfriend: Well...Your psychiatrist asked you not to recall such memories for your well being sake.

And the call cut abruptly. It was a Vodafone number.

Hero: hmmm… ok… I’m guessing it. Here goes… it’s B. The Three Musketeers.
Host: Are you sure?
Hero: Yes. You can lock it without further mundane questions.
Host: Computer! Please Lock B. The Three Musketeers.

As usual, a music for the thrill, which obviously ended on a happy note as the host and the hero were ecstatic after winning “Who wants to be a Millioner? Part 2”!

Needless to say, another director venturing into India made a movie out of it.

The Movie won 8 Oscars.

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The Best for the Patient

Well, people have a notion and a firm belief that the best comes for those who wait. And thats how the world has been revolving- right around the belief. Parents ask their children to wait so God gives them the best. At a work place, the superiors ask a subordinate to wait so he gets the best and sages preach that patience and waiting will definitely give you the best. Hmmm...I say different.

I'm claiming, it’s like a circle. I'd say, people believe in waiting for the best without actually realizing the underlying logic (at least according to me). It’s just that people wait indefinitely for their "best" and after a while get tired of waiting and accept what comes their way saying "it's probably for their best" and then confirm that it was indeed, without a look at the other perspective or a positive speculation in its outcome thereby avoiding risks. It’s an insecure world. People want to play on safe shores and the saying "The best for those who wait" is just synonymous to "Hope for the Best".

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The She that Wanted to Be

Some people just think the world revolves around them. Period.

There was this girl that I knew or rather “mis-knew“who, was beyond doubt quite good looking, decent at academics and from an affluent family. She was also the kind who was quite emotional. She’d describe even climbing up a stair as a Herculean task if she had done it, otherwise would just pass it off as worthless. She also had a few guys approach her. Well, probably that got to her head. I wouldn’t know nor do I wish to.

The other day, we were having a mundane conversation and I was quite on the listening side. Some people call that to be good. I don’t know. I just asked her how life was though I knew what the reply would be.

“Terrible… really… all these subjects that I study are real tough. I don’t know what to do…”, came the reply.

I offered a simple solution that even a 2 year old would have. “Study of course!”

“I know that dumbass. But you wouldn’t understand. These are tough with a capital T. Just real problems. You don’t know what I’m facing.”

For a moment I thought she was working for NASA. I regretted having opened my mouth to provide a solution. Being a moderate conversationalist seemed like a boon. To divert the talk I asked her how her life was, GENERALLY. Her friends and stuff like that.

“My friends are great! We have this Huuuge group of 6 friends. We have fun that other groups would just be jealous of.”

My group consisted of 8 people and I wasn’t “ecstatic” about it.
“What kind of fun??” Pardon my curious nature.

“Regularly eating out, bunking class, chewing gum during class hours, you know, awesomeness everywhere!!”

Mundane fun magnified. After a search in vain for a reply, I said “hmmm…”

“Also, some of the guys in my class are looking at me and are like… ‘oooo… that girl…who’s she?’ . The guys keep looking at me and talk about me. I know that”

This time I didn’t even want to “hmmm…” a reply.

“I keep getting these mails from these people. It’s like they are tracking me. After a few days, they resend the mails begging me to ‘please respond to the requests’”

I was listening though not intently at the ramblings. Then came the least expected statement.

“The best part is I get these kinds of mails even from girls. I can understand boys. But girls, well… (laughing)”

“Really? What kind of mails? “, I asked.

“When you come home the next time I’ll show you”

A few days later I dropped by. I remembered the mails and asked her about it. She agreed but warned me not to let this out and here I am blogging it. You’ll know why.

We sat in front of the computer and she opened her mail box. Then she grouped the mails that’s she spoke about and then showed them to me.

The subject of the mails read “You have been Tagged”.

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The "Freud" in them...

Well… I’m writing this post on the belief that you know who Sigmund Freud is. If not, I’d recommend Google.

Anyway, the other night, I was tired from being my daily regular pointless nomadic self (I’m still waiting for my call letter and I will even if it takes all eternity) from the hot sunny afternoon till the not so sunny evening. As soon as I reached home I hogged supper as though my hogging outside wasn’t just enough and hit the sack.

Normally, I’d keep the ringing volume of my mobile at the maximum even though it’d warm me that “loud ringtones can damage your hearing”. It’s only human to defy and establish supremacy over machines as we’re the ones who created them. At say, 0:06 my phone beeped as if it was on fire. I remember not having kept an alarm at 0:06. Frustrated, I got up to see that I had got around 7 messages from the same guy. Expecting some kind of an emergency, though surprised that I had got messages instead of a call, I opened the first text message. It read the exact words as below.

“She is the one who always loved you. She stood by your side and waited for you to become what you want. She loved you even better than all the other people around. She would do anything for you. You should also love her. She is none other than mother (notice the reference). Good night.”

Alright! Who doesn’t!? By being sensible I should have known what to expect from the next message. But by being human, I ignored my gut feeling and opened the message. It read-

“You are the one who can define yourself. You are the one who can do what you want to do. You should always be optimistic and determined to do what you want to do. If you do it then that life is yours. Good night.”

It was 0:11. I didn’t know whether it was due to my being sleepy or because of the lame content that I felt I was in a drunken stupor.

Frustration. I experienced it firsthand in the first hour of the day. Imagine my plight. I’m not going to quote the rest of the messages because
1. I didn’t read them.
2. I don’t want my blog to be described as death’s incarnate.

I had questions arising out of my frustration. What do these people want?! Why “good night” seven times in a row? What’s the point of these messages? I’ll never find the answers though.

I still have one question to ask myself. Am I under some kind of a secretive psychiatric experimentation or psychoanalysis and are these people my Sigmund Freud…?

I feel sorry for the great Sigmund Freud as I have made this comparison for he’ll be turning in his grave. But that’s the least I could do to these so called “Messengers” on duty.

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A Simple Loop in the Long Chain

Well, Today I got a comment from one of my fellow bloggers in this Blogosphere- Rakesh Vanamali, saying I’ve been tagged. I didn’t know what nuts it meant! But I was, for one thing, sure that he wasn’t a guy who fools around. As usual, I went to his blog to find out that he had been just as clueless when he was tagged, as I am now. After reading his post, I kind of figured what I was supposed to do.

Here’s the rub. I’m required to answer two questions each from my past, present and future. And the questions are posed by the tagger (if that’s what you call them) himself.

Flashback Reel:-

My oldest Memories

My oldest memory, proper, would effectively require a hypnotist, though I’ll try my best. It would definitely be my childhood days when the needs were just as much as what our status was. A very simple life. The little games after school that my sister and I used to play. The little fights we had and the patch work after that. The small but lovely house that I would still call as a cozy home. The thrashings from dad and mom that I laugh at now when I think of my mischief. The love for He-Man! Sneaking off without anyone’s notice to salvage a bottle of Pepsi with my brother and then getting caught because of spilling Pepsi on my shirt in a failed attempt to play champagne with it. The golden days, I wish, would come back though in reality though I know they won’t, which leaves me with nostalgia for a company. Those really were the days and I’d trade anything I have now to relive them.

What was I doing 10 years ago…

Well, that would take me to the year 1998. I was in 6th standard. That was the first time a new scheme was introduced at school. The highest performers of the class in all the examinations throughout the year would be exempted to write the annual examinations and would directly be promoted to the next class. Two members from our class were selected. One was a girl who was the topper. I’m leaving you to guess the other obvious elite.

Now and real:-

Today…

I had been tagged and I noticed it just as I was going to write a new post. So, I give it a shot as this is my first time in being tagged. Otherwise it had been a normal mundane day. Watching the movie “To kill a Mockingbird” was the most interesting part.

Future's Dreams:-

Tomorrow…

Ditto as today. Guitar classes, a new movie (trying to cover the whole imdb top 250), hogging and continue to wait for my appointment order.

What do you see yourself doing 14 years from now?

Hopefully a professional in the IT industry by day and a Guitarist (rockstar??) by evening and then pinch myself and wake up to know that 14 years is quite a long time to be speculated upon now. Nevertheless, I dream of making it big in the music industry someday.

If I build a Time Capsule what would it contain…

In the rarest of rare events that I finish building one, it’d contain my music, movies collection along with my guitar stuff (that includes my guitar obviously), my blog archive, my photographs and the blueprint of my time capsule. Phew, I hope the capsule is more like Noah’s ark.

Dreamcatching:-

I guess it’s time to tag.

Jayaprasad - A train of Thought
Siddharth - A Sliver a Day
Vivek - My Occam's Razor
Chiju - Chiju Speaks
Janani - Magnolia Cresent
Akshay's Blog

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At Childhood’s End

All through the festival holidays, though having had some fun, I had been pondering about the general reduction in bursting of crackers this year. The change had been quite pronounced. So I figured I had three reasons to come up with.

1. I had gone deaf due to age, so I couldn’t listen to anyone bursting them. But I’m not that old yet. So, veto.
2. Not much of expenditure for people this year due to the stock market crash. Now, that’s stupid. Veto.
3. Not enough crackers produced as the gun powder might be exported to another place to aid a war for Liberation. Duh?!?

The night of Diwali, after dinner, I went for a walk to enjoy the breeze and the chill. While on the road, I saw a small boy walking down the street. I guessed him to be around 10-12 years of age.

I called out to him.

Me: Hey! Boy!

The Boy turned around. I saw him and observed that he looked quite mature for his age.

Me: I’ve seen you somewhere though I can’t place where.
The boy: And you must be ID:180687
Me: Hey! That’s what my friends call me! Anyway, if you don’t mind my asking, you seem to have gobbled up an entire sweets shop to put on THAT much of a weight. Outside exercises could help. Go and play some sport, kid!
The boy: This is my compact form. I can transform into a much bigger self of mine by repeated screwing and unscrewing though I don’t do that often as it tends to bore people after the first time they see it. I am Pessimist-at-Prime. My friend Mega-moron and I have come from a galaxy far far away to preach the religion of machines.
Me: …?? Yeah, and I’m superman from Krypton the unmasked vigilante in his traditional night gown, here to save our world. Pleased to meet you.

The boy scowled at my mockery.

Me: Now, why aren’t ya bursting crackers??
P-a-P: I don’t enjoy crackers. The slightest change in my system can cause me to shutdown immediately and never wake up again to see another dawn.
Me: Boy, you must be running Windows. Now, quit playing and tell me. Why aren’t you bursting crackers!? I thought you were a kid. A liking for these kinds of enjoyments is natural for your age, I guess!
P-a-P: You humans are naïve, narrow sighted. Our race comes in the form of Playstations, Televisions, Cell phones etc. We are not the kinds who enjoy the outside world. We like to be in our cozy cardboard niches. Now we’re here to “transform” the cute, lively children of this planet into obese couch potatoes!
P-a-P: Muahahahaha! (Evil laughter)

I could neither decipher nor believe what this guy was trying to say. Just then, one of the kids from my neighborhood came running along. It was Papli the youngest in our area. He is 10 years old.

Me: Hey, Papli!
Papli: Hi anna*! Hi Bubby!
Me: Bubby??

Bubby looked at me and gave a sarcastic smile.

Papli: Yeah, this is Bubby from my school. He joined this year. He’s from the United States!!

Boy! Do our people get excited when they see people from the other parts of the world.

Me: So, Papli? Not bursting crackers eh?
Papli: No, not anymore. Crackers have become boring. I’m going to Bubby’s house to play some playstation. He has these new games that can keep anyone engaged for hours together! C’mon bubby. It’s getting late. Let’s go. See you anna! Bye!

Without a reply, I turned around and made my way home. Neither to this day nor in the future will I be ever able to decipher whether what bubby said was true.

Machines are taking over the world giving little room to the age old harmless joys of humanity making life more a routine than a journey. The world is at its childhood’s end.

anna*- Brother, Bro

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The Blind Eyes of Justice

We all know of THE Icon for justice. It’s of a lady in a blindfold, holding the weighing scales. Well, let me tell you that the blindfold has lasted for a bit too long and has now become literal.

This incident once happened in Bihar, when a dog named Chottu faced trial in a court in Patna, apparently for “Breach of Peace” (He didn’t crap around like burning buses because the party he supported failed to win in the elections or stage a protest demanding a downgrade in its pedigree the minister had promised to award, if she won the elections). Allegedly, all he did was bite people, and the police feared that it to become a dangerous law and order situation. The dog was eventually caught or “arrested” and was produced for trial. However, the owner claims that Chottu was on his best behavior in the court lending credence to his owner’s statement that Chottu attacked only burglars. What’s incredible though, is that the dog was sentenced to death for the same complaint (if only dogs could speak… and were capable of dealing under the table) but managed to escape because of protests by Animal Rights Activists.

Surprised? Well, don’t be. Guess what’s next in line.
I had been to Bangalore recently and had dropped by a shopping mall called Forum to chill out for a while. Forum houses a big multi-cuisine restaurant called Transit, and I thought I’d just go grab some snack. Thankfully I hadn’t carried in any eatable from outside because THIS would have happened if I had.

A Warning Board inside Transit, Forum, Bangalore.

Now, I’m still hoping to come across an unfortunate Oskar Schindler to redeem the “Juice” from THIS holocaust...

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Chaat House: From Corner to Conglomerate

Food is something a normal human being cannot resist when offered. Unless he/she just ate their tummy-full and just can’t stand the sight of food, or, is a 10th century ascetic. Otherwise, the very sight of food can make anyone’s mouth water.

Different kinds of food are famous during different times. For example, sweets, though an all time favorite, would flood markets and would have the highest buyers during festival times. Another example would be fast food- The world is progressing fast and so has food. It’s become fast. But these kinds of food have their peak time. It is sometimes age based, preference based, frequency based etc. Not many people enjoy fast food once they cross a certain age limit and the same case is with sweets, but that might be sometimes due to precautions.
One kind that has stood the test of time and is still growing is the food that is authentic to India, alone. Chaat. It has got nothing, yet it has got everything. The ingredients are simple, they are easy to make and obviously, they taste great! I have witnessed that chaat shop’s sales haven’t dropped, but is constantly increasing. As for their peak time, I haven’t found one yet. People of all ages (well, after a certain age limit) tend to enjoy it, no matter how often they have it.
I visit a chat corner near my house quite regularly. I have seen the store grow from serving a single or a couple of customers to mass producing bhel puris and masal puris. Now, recently, I had gone there and I didn’t have a place to sit! Soon, the chaat annas, as you call them to be, are setting up franchises all over the city! Yet, I have seen a lot of other restaurants opening up in quite a style and then ending up closed a few weeks or months later, either due to lack of chefs resulting in bad food or due to improper management. In contrast, chaat shops don’t have any formal training in cooking. All they do is add, mix, shake and then serve. The magic formula! Simple but effective. No classy decorations or waiters. The best ambience you can get (if you’re looking for one) is by staying in your car and enjoying a plate of your favorite chaat item (people do that, believe me).

One can assess the decline in a restaurant by observing the ambiance, if the restaurant did open with style. The passage of time leaves a stain on the walls. The edges of the furniture are chipped, the cushion covers are torn etc. You can predict the place to shut down soon, however cheap the food rates come down to. But these chat corners, well, don’t have an ambiance, to be frank! You can see a gutter that sometimes is full, sometimes dry (depends on the season) running nearby, not enough chairs to sit, the already provided chairs are half worn down and you can, at anytime, expect a bird spit to fall on your plate(which did happen to me once)! Still, I don’t see these people suffering any serious hit in business! Now Chaat stalls have become one of kind of places where money just flows in. It has become like a well established business.

Well, the question is, what really makes these stalls flourish? Is it their quality of food? The speed at which it’s served? The “unique” kind of ambiance? What!?

Would the answer be as plain as “to just keep it simple”? I don’t think so.
As for a proper answer, I’m still on the lookout for one. In the meantime, chaat? Anyone?

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