Absolute happiness is a myth

Our new, and temperory, maid servant is too noisy even to my mom's liking. I think mom is tolerating her only because she is 'a guest of few days'; our old kaamwaali will be back this weekend.

Last night I asked mom why she is that way. Mom said it is her way to keep away from thinking about the joke that her life has become. I believe she doesnt need a listener. She can talk to no one too. She doesnt want to stop, lest she will go into thoughts. Painful, depressing, energy sapping thoughts. This is her short story.

She has 2 sons, past their prime. One is crippled for life. He lost is legs, I dunno when, in a freak accident and now he is 24x7 at home, eternally sick and dependant, counting his days. The other son, works part time as a coolie. If mood permits, he will go out and earn something. On other occassions, he is at home or out passing time. Both demand nothing from their mother. If she feeds them, they eat. If she doesnt, they dont seem to mind. Husband? He drank his way to death. She is glad he exists no more.

Now its the mother's heart that cant stand seeing her sons rot this way. This alone drives her to walk down all the way from Rajajinagar to Vijayanagar to clean utensils and mop floors for a few hundred extra bucks a month. Apart from a few permanent customers in Rajajinagar, she has 'taken up' a couple of houses in our locality. She is requesting mom to employ her on a permanent basis, but mom wont. She cant, rather.

I was tired physically last night. But this story made me retire to bed with a rather pensive mind.

For over a year now I have been living such a self centered life, that only MY ABSOLUTE happiness and worries have become important to me. Out there, there are so many more things, material or otherwise, that I can add to MY life, but I perenially sulk thinking about how it has gone out of control and how things just dont seem to be going MY way.

I think its time I appraised my existence relative to how people around me are living, and for once, try to be happy with the my life, its quality and possessions.

Omen

They are sitting on the last step of the flight of stairs leading up to the office reception. Both are lost in thier own thoughts. As always, she is the leitmotif of his thoughts.And hers, no one knows. The way they are sitting, a curious mind will wonder if they know each other at all.

HE : Do you believe in omens?
SHE : No I dont.

Silence again.

SHE : Do you?
HE : You took a full eight minutes to ask that. Hmm. Yes I do.

How he wished he could read her mind. He continued.

HE : Do you see the temple across the road?
SHE : Yes I do. What about it?
HE : Six months ago, even before I said I loved you, I dreamt of marrying you there. A week later, they stopped constructing it. It has been abandoned ever since.

Another painful interval of silence.

SHE : I am sorry.

She stood up and walked to the reception. He walked into the rain.

All in the name

I have wondered, since college days, what motivates people to publish papers in journals, present them at conferences or file for a patent. I still dont have an answer for the first two, but from personal experience I can throw light on the patent thing. After almost 2 months of disinterested cavalier half hearted approach to filing one, i finally got my draft approved yesterday and disclosed the same to the office patent committee. Whether I will have my name embossed on a patent platter, I dont know, I dont care and is also besides the point. The leitmotif here is: what motivates one to file a patent? Couple of things drove me.

Firstly, its the money. For the first one that was filed and had half the world as its inventors (9, actually. My name appeared above 2 others), the returns were quite decent. I dont think it was a path breaking idea, but royalty will be most welcome.

For the second one, a 15 page draft was written, explaining the idea behind the latest 'invention'. Diagrams, equations and all. No fun that one though. I could have finished it in a week, but, you know Prof. Parkinson, dont you? But the most challenging, irking and simultaneously highly pleasing aspect here is christening the idea. For me, if at all I get any more ideas, the "Title for invention" column in the disclosure form will be the second most motivating factor to file a patent. Silly it might sound, but come to think of it. The idea, its conception, is development, all have co-contributiors. But the name, thats totally a single man's contribution and creativity. I GOT TO NAME MY DISCLOSURE. Woaa! Dont know if anybody derived tantamount pleasure on this front, but I hope, I feel, I am not alone here.

"An improved low-power solution over the hybrid amplifier for AC coupled applications with impedance control over a wide dynamic range of output voltage swing and during all instants of operation suited for UDSM processes".

Not ingenious I know. Come on! Its my baby. I will name it the way I like it.

Adios brother

I never worked for him. My nexus with him was nothing beyond informal. For any problem outside of work, I would talk to him. Any suppressed feeling, I would share with him. He was always there, as my elder brother.

No more though. He moved to Dallas last Friday. He doesnt want to come back for another 5-6 years. Dunno how things will be then. No idea if I will ever meet him again. But I hope we do.

This aspect of life sucks. You grow attached to some one and a day comes when that person says tata bye bye and flies away. Why dont people stay? My sis..

a few very very close friends (all, except me, right top, have settled down elsewhere now)..

each one flew in a direction of his/her own.

Hmm. Guess its still gonna take time to understand this hard reality.

But Paddanna, I am gonna miss you :-(

A compliment

After a long hiatus, we played a cricket match this Saturday. Much to the captain's surprise, 12 people registered and all of them turned up. On time too. 7 out of the 12 had played a maximum of 2 matches before this. A novice team at best this one, with full of young blood.

We batted first. At the end of 12 overs we were reeling at 76 for 6. A couple of good lower middle order partnerships (I was involved in one of them) saw us post a competitive 184 in 25 overs. A spirited bowling and fielding performance (I bowled my full quota of 5 overs; took a wicket) gave us a solitary run victory.
It was a happy ending. Doubly so, given the inexperience in the team.

I shall blow my trumpet now..

After the game, captain came to me and said.. "Happy? You built this team.". A pat from the team followed.

Well, did I? Not exactly. But yes. TI has a team that can play cricket because I made my passion for the game contagious. For the last 6 months, all senior members in the team were so heavily burdened with work at office, that none of them could attend the saturday morning pratice sessions. Slowly the interest started dwindling. Nobody bothered to renew the contract with the groundsman at NAL for a practice net and we were left netless by early February after the contract expired. Thats when I decided 'to take matters into my own hands'. I went hunting for grounds which were affordable and at the same time not too far off from the Airport Road vicinity. (I didnt mind travelling). Seeing me struggle, one influential senior memeber (who has now retired from active cricket) used his influence and got us a net for Friday evenings at the same NAL grounds. The next step was to bring talent to the ground. We had loads of it, but none was motivated. For the first Friday evening session in early April, we were 4 enthusiastic players. I started forcing it down the gut of some lazy bones, that it was a shame they prioritized a Friday evening show at a multiplex over some healthy physical exertion. Result : 4 rose to 8-9 by May.

Once every quarter the contract with NAL for a net should be renewed. For the period starting June 07, we made sure the payment reached in time. And all looked back on track and we started our regular Saturday morning sessions in June. Ever since, we have a full team (sometimes surplus) that turns up for the sessions.

My punchline to make people feel guilty: "If I can wake up at 6 in the morn, leave home by 6:15, drive a good 15 km to reach the ground before 6:45 to see to it that we get a good net for practice, you people can definitely wake up at 6:45 and come here by 7:00."

People do come at 7 am these days (We had times when the 6:45 session would start at 7:30).

For once, I am proud and happy. Proud that my captain acknowledged my effort. Happy that I managed to spread my unflinching passion among the team members. Proud and happy that my name is synonymous with cricket at TI.

Sorry mummy

Long time back there was post a with the same title. But this one deserves the title more than that.

Whenever I dont find a cable, mobile charger, MP3 player, car/bike key at my work table at home, my fingers involuntarily point in mom's direction. And she comes running.

Me:"Where is the USB cable? It was right here last night. You swept it off this morning. Darn your broom! Find it for me. NOW!"

Mom: "Why will I sweep it off? It must be somewhere here. Search with open eyes."

Me: "I cant. That is why I called you. I will check the dustbin. Might find it there (The way I say this pricks physically). YOU search here."

She starts of diligenty. Boxes, racks, drawers, behind books. And finally there it is! Hanging from behind the port on the comp. I had left it there after I last used it.

Mom: "Rascal! Look where it is. Badmash. You blame me always".

Impish smile on my face..

Me: "But why do you come running, searching for it? Always? Thats because you feel guilty. You know you dont have control over your hands when it comes to cleaning and mopping."

Mom: "You are so wrong! Just look at your face when you cant find something. Tensed. Dejected. Lost. I dont mind taking the blame and those pointed verbal arrows coming from you. But I just cant see that face. I know yow will do this again. Soon. But I really dont mind son."

She wont expect it, but why cant I say a SORRY? On her face?
LOSER.
Shame shame!

But you are wrong mummy. There wont be a next time. Not in this regard atleast.

The Rose

Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed
Some say love, it is a hunger
An endless, aching need
I say love, it is a flower
And you it's only seed

It's the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
Its the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance
It's the one who won't be taken,
That cannot seem to give
And the soul afraid of dying
That never learns to live

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snow
Lies the seed that with the sun's love,
In the spring, becomes a rose.


Nice song too.. this one

Encounter of the uncomfortable kind

A fortnight back I was volunteered by my boss's boss (for lack of ingenuity, will be called big B henceforth) to arrange for a team picnic this month end. After some net search I decided on this. Looks like a decent place, doent it?

And today was the card swiping day; had to make full advance payment to the resort people. Obviously it was big B's card that passed through the slit. Since I am the Bangalore wallah, I had to take him to the resort office, on Infantry Road. Out we set at 2 p.m in the office cab that I had booked. If I were big B, and if he was in my liberty floaters this would be the course of events..

Given that I am his boss for 3+ years and I have no clue about him or his family, given that he is no run of the mill kind at office, curiosity would prevail and a conversation as natural as this would fall in place.

Me : So, where are you basically from?
He : blah..blah (not important)
Me : You stay with parents?
He : ..
Me : Where?
He : ..
Me : How do you traverse that distance?
He : ..
Me : Why so far?
He : ..

Ok. I guess you get where this is heading. C'mon! He is my boss. He is supposed to make me feel comfortable atleast during that 1 hour's ride, isnt he? But no! All he managed to ask was a couple of questions on my work. Then absolute silence. He kept alternating between his watch and his blackberry and sometimes a peek outside the window. I felt suffocated sitting next to him. Hello! If not for your card our paths wouldnt have crossed! Now that they have, why behave as if I have sinned by taking you along? Shady character. Shady forgettable post lunch hour.

I definitely want to be a manager one day. Soon. But no one will ever write this way about me.

The weekend that was..

My fascination for dragons, large spiders and snakes, the wingardium leviosas, dementors (The concept of feasting on your good memories to an extent where you are left with only the bad ones.. too much!) seems to stay unabated with me. Proof : I watched two and a half of the three HP movies again this Sunday. Dad also gave me company for some time and later the plots became too complicated for him to follow. I tried to explain but his mind is just too unfantastic to lock to it.

Rafa has improved. Federer was plain lucky. It wont be so next time. But I was happy. Ferrari strategy worked. Hamilton erred. Alonso was useless and Kimi was at his best. Good combination of F1 news for a Ferrari fan in me to sleep with a smile on the face.

Problems galore. Zma refuses to start. Arbit hissing sound from below the seat. Some fuse problem I surmise. Gotta wait till next weekend to have it checked. Net down on both days.

Absolutely no physical activity over the weekend. Not even cricket. No regrets though. Had a tough (physically) week andI deserved a break.

With loads of mummy made food, a neat, free weekend it was.

ABD ABD ABD..

Gotta keep this place alive. Lot of things to write, lot of free time too (my manager doesnt visit this place anyways), but not enough motivation. Updates on things new/different in life...

3 yrs @ TI:
The 2nd year anniversary (7th June, 2006) saw a full length post to its credit. Anniversaries come and go. No big deal there. The highly indelectable lunch at Indi Joe's (spare the desserts) didnt help enliven the spirits either.
Jist : With loads of downs and a few ups here and there, it was definitely an year worth a Shift + Delete.

NOKIA 6300:
For a gizmo freak that I am, a W205 from Motorola seemed to insult my very existence. After a 2 month nexus, I am done with it. And what did I buy?


Considering that my credit has been running in only 3 digits for 2 months straight, 10K didnt seem to make a huge impact on the pocket. What is brought me along instead, are pride, smile on my face, 2MP camera, 16M colours screen (this rocks!) and much more. Have lost 2 half-night sleeps over feature exploration, but it was worth the effort. Thinking of having the GPRS enabled. Lets see.

Cricket:
Sad but true. My length and line are much more consistent from around the wicket. But this comes at a premium. My inswingers are lost to oblivion. Even on the breezy Saturday morns, the ball pitches and stays dead straight. Gotta work on some pace now.

Badminton:
Been regular at this now for almost 2 months now. I thought I was tough. But 1 hour into it, and I am panting like a mad dog. Stamina.. stamina.. hmm..

Hope to come back soon.

Demand Note to GOD

Dear God,

Give her happiness, an everlasting one,
to keep her bubbly and ever ready to sing and dance,
Give her a mind, a simple one,
where good ideas and thoughts flow without hinderance.

Give her the grit, a steely one,
that people will admire and wish to borrow,
Give her a dream, a tough one,
in pursuit of which she will forget all her sorrow.

Give her a body, a strong one,
that will brook a storm as a mild breeze,
Give her a mate, a deserving one,
with whom she can share the fruits of all of these.

Give her inner peace, a solemn one,
to stay composed amidst the tumultous crowd,
Give her a smile, a radiant one,
that will reflect her self-confidence, clear and loud.

Give her optimism, a cheerful one,
to lead a life with conviction, every night and day,
Give her courage, a resilient one,
to stand up to what is right, no matter what people say.

Give her a tear, a stubborn one,
to uproot anything that stands up as life's anomaly,
Give her a long life, a memorable one,
at which she will look back and say,"I couldnt have lived it more successfully!"

All in the game

I hadnt played football for almost 4 months. The intra office tournament was my last venture. This afternoon it was footer time again : 5 on 5 in the indoor court.

My footer skills are not exactly my physical abilities that I would flaunt in front of my girl friend. Both are badly missing. But thats beside the point. After desultorily running around for more than an hour (my teamamtes stopped passing the ball to me 20 min into the game; the opposition stopped marking me soon after. Just too many missed chances), on my way back to the cafeteria, stinking of sweat, a thought process was triggered.

Why do I suck at this game? Frankly, one leg of mine comes in way of the other. Maybe, just maybe, I would have made a name for myself if I had just one of these liabilities called legs, than a couple. But, knowing my prowess elsewhere, which I am happy about, let me put this question in perspective. Why doesnt adroitness in a particular game reflect in another game too? The cricket ball rarely slips through my legs (Yes. I field more often with my legs), but this bigger football creates a sorry figure between the same pair of reliable legs. Hell no! I am not an anomaly here.

The best dribbler/striker in this footer team plays badminton in a way that is anything but agile. I have seen that often. I am no champion material but I cover the court with much greater panache. A good midfielder was in my team for the cricket 8-a-side last year. The cricket ball is just too small for him. That is the impression he left.

I have known precisely 4 guys in my life whose flair in any game they play is tantamount. As for the rest, I guess its just too much conditioning in a particular game that is seen as gaucherie in the others. Gauche I might look right now, but I wanna continue with football. For one, this game tires every muscle. And what more. A prelunch session definitely makes the nauseatic cafeteria lunch quite bearable.

Haunted

Some time last year our CEO made this statement at one of the annual stockholders meet:
"The world of communications and entertainment is driving an opportunity of maybe up to 10 devices per person, compared to one device per person in the PC era. Just take a look around and count them - a cell phone, a digital camera, a game player, a broadband connection, an iPod and so forth. If you have any doubt, find your nearest teenager - you're looking at the future."

Yes! I am looking at MY bright future. And what about the teenager's? Game player + cell phone with music player + iPod - a perfect concoction for his doomsday preparations. If I were to be the CEO and I had teenage son, these are just the things I would keep him away from, atleast until I start feeling that he really deserves any of these. But seriously, do the present day teens really need to possess any of these? Is it the age for 'entertainment'?

Somehow, my CEO's stress on cashing on entertainment seems to be a repelling idea, more so because I feel he is targetting the wrong audience. I believe its not just him chanting the mantra. The whole semiconductor industry is on this path - coax a rich dad into buying a 3G, 3.5G phone, for his undeserving son, loaded with every possible entertainment circuitry ever concieved by a geeky EE engineer. Agreed, every party is happy in this deal. But dont we see some long term losers here? Are we so deeply engrossed in our money making spree that we feel not a pang of guilt when we make lofty statements like "find your nearest teenager - you're looking at the future"?

This thought sometimes makes me abhor circuit design, as is the case right now. All my transcievers, phase locked loops, regulators, references are soon going to sit in some NOKIA mobile's audio, camera or display interfaces that will eventually land in the hands of one such teenager.

God save him.

This industry is akin to child labour. Only there, some mean person is cashing on the direct physical involvement of a child and here, however tangential it might seem, we are exploiting the mental suppleness of one. Just because we have moved from the physical to the mental domain doesnt make this industry very different from human trafficking. So I am going to quit this industry, whose foundation is anything but ethical, and search for one that is more humanitarian. NICE TRY! Not in the near future do I see this industry going bust. If I dont screw my child's future, some one else will. So, no point in making a foolish sacrifice. A distorted future is better than no future.

As an aside, talking about someone deserving something, I had this encounter on Monday on Cubbon Road. As I reached an intersection, the signal turned red and the 180 seconds countdown started. I was on my Zma. By my side stopped a Bajaj ChetakX. The gentleman on the scooter started thouroughly started examining my bike. CAK XXXX was his bike number. One side of his helmet's wiper had come off the hinge. An old tattered black bag hung from the hook in the front. Surely a dowry material. I developed an instant disliking for all of his body parts. I gave him the position of a third rate sub-registrar office clerk in KR Puram. He started it.

"Yeshtu Saar idu (How much is this?)"
"85K"

Some more technical details I gave him.

"My son, only this bike wants. College ge hogallvante idilla andre"(wont go to college if he doenst get one).

I had this sudden rush of blood to my head.

"Idu naan togonDiddu. Nammappa koDslilla. Idanna oDsakke yogyate beku". (I bought this. Not my dad. I bought this because I DESERVE this bike).

This reply made me immensely proud. Hope that sonofagun never goes to college.

OK. Back to work now. I am not paid to believe in the power of my thoughts.

In pursuit of happiness..

Irked with corporeal resolutions and subsequent ineffectiveness in the previous years, when 06 ceased to exist, I adopted the last line from Max Ehrmann's Desiderata as my resolution for 07. Three months into it, its time to retrospect.

I have a reason, right now, not to be happy. And that is because retrospection returned dismal results. Let alone striving to be happy, I havent even made an effort not be sad. Till mid Feb I was too busy to be happy. Mid Feb to end Feb I was sad that my project got scrapped. Since Mar started, I am not happy because I have work again.

Moving from retrospection to introspection, is it really WORK that has stopped me from being happy? Everybody knows how workaholic I am (not). I barely manage to clock those 40 mandatory hours per week that the work place demands. So it really cant be work that is working against my resolution. And I spend around 60 hrs/week on bed, devoid of all human feelings.

Stepping outside my boots, as an onlooker, I think I have reasons to feel good once in a while. My parents are proud that I will be in possession of a HOME SWEET HOME before I turn 25. They are so elated that I single handedly arranged for a loan, completed all formalities, and even got the property registered in my name. Some other year, some other planet, I would have basked in this small glory that I have cornered, but right now, right here, I am not happy about any of this.


I worked assiduously on my patent, as a primary inventor, drawing self explanatory figures, deriving comprehensive equations, surveying literature to see if I had infringed on any existing patents, discussed, ruminated, and submitted the draft for review. It might not make it, thats a different thing. If I were to do the same set of things an year ago, at the end of it all, I would have had to try hard to contain the immense satisfaction and contentment the process would have given me. But last week, I logged out, saying good riddance and havent cared to follow up on it ever since.


I have shown enough diligence and regularly played my guitar for some time now. I can croon along as I play it. I used to lose myelf in it completely some time back. But now, its become more of a formal proceeding. I stop the moment my fingers start aching, 'cus paining myself for perfection doesnt make me happy any more.

Can some one be passionate about something and still not be happy doing it? I still remember those days when I used to wait for 3:30 p.m to strike. Then with all the zeal I could garner, I would head to the gym to bleed some unadulterated sweat. Awesome fun that WAS. And now, more often than not, I carry a lot of garbled thoughts along, and wont even realise when I start and when I am all sweat. The conviction exists. No doubt about that. But happiness. Z i l c h.

Cricket! I have lived for this game. I have spent long minutes conceptualising those perfect inswingers. I used to be proud of my unflinching commitment for the game. But with nobody around to share this passion, happiness has fast disappeared.


Neither am I cribbing nor am I looking for answers. I feel sleepless this night and feel like experiencing some misery. And so this post. Some wise dood told me to pursue my passions relentlessly to keep myself occupied and hence sanguine. Occupied I am, Sir, but devoid of sanguinity...

This weekend I am definitely going to try and get some motivation from Will Smith.

Wish I was a Pardesi..

Last night on my way back home I somehow felt like taking a short cut through the non-existent main road of Michealpalya. A part of this road, the end from where you exit to join 180 ft road, used to be a one way some time back. But some vexed commuters recently uprooted the board that hinted at this. The road cant actually handle two way traffic, but travailing on this for a few minutes is any day better than getting stuck at the eternally jammed Suranjan Das Raod and Old Madras Road junction. Having said this, I usually avoid this short cut.

But, as fate had it, of all nights, I chose last night to try this road. At the exit point there was an entire batallion of traffic police mamas ready to prance on blissfully innocent commuters who were foreordained to end their day on a bad note.

License please. OK.
Hundred Rupees please.
Why?
That's a one way sir.
Who says so?!
The board.
Where is the board?
On the road.
Its not there.
It is.

A Maruti Omni guy went that extra distance to prove that there was no board there. He took along a small mama, but he never cam back. God knows what happened to him.

But the shadiest part of this whole affiar was yet to come. Two chinkies on a Kinetic Honda, male+female, who came a few minutes later, on the same road, were NOT looted! Just a cavalier license check, a few words, and they were on their way! I couldnt stand this. Upon asking that miserable sonofabitch on his partisan behaviour, the response I got was equally atrocious.
"Avru namma desha alla saar" .. They are not from our country.. !@#$

At that instant, I wished for two things.
1. That I was a Pardesi.
2. That I had a valid insurance. Mine expired some time in April lst year. Was I in possession of this, I would have definitely created a scene there. But on this occassion, I quietly rode back, feeling lucky. Losing 100 bucks is better than losing 5 times that amount.

The first thing I did this morn was drop my zma at the service center. Will pick it up in the evening and tomorrow morn I shall head straight to the ICICI Insurance office.

Lean phase

Every Thursday evening, all module owners need to send a weekly to the manager explaining all the activities that happen during that week. For the second staright week, I havent sent mine. The reason is as simple as having nothing to write in the weekly.

Not that we bill our cost center on an hourly basis, but its a tacit expectation that we clock atleast 40hrs/week at office. I have done 45 hrs in 2 weeks combined. Work at office these days is akin to mugging in college: lot of backlog vis-a-vis dwindling interest to keep pace.

I am trying hard to convince myself that lack of physical fitness ( a sprained right elbow last week, an aching left shoulder since yesterday) plus lot of time consuming activities on the home front (loan+registration+payments) has kept me away from giving 100% at work. But something inside is making a cussed statement that all the above are just excuses and the actual reason is general lack of motivation.

With 2 modules in the finishing stages and 2 new ones in the planning phase, I have work that actually demands more than 50hrs/week. Hope things will be normal starting next week.

Zma vs. Thunderbird

After a 70 odd km biking on the Thunderbird(TB) (thanks Kesava!), I feel I am in a decent position to make a comparison with my Karizma (the last reading on the odometer : 11111 km). This being my first attempt at comparison/review I shall copy parameters listed at mouthshut.org.

Fuel consumption :
38kmpl (Zma) against 30kmpl for the TB. 30 is pretty low for the kind of power TB delivers. May be it is the dry weight (168kgs against zma's 150kgs) that results in such a low fuel consumption.

Comfort :
TB's rear seat is a real pain in the ass. Cant say much about zma though, for I havent sat on its pillion seat for such long a distance. But for the rider, TB ROCKS! Bangalore- Chennai distance can be covered with at the max 2 breaks on the way. Zma demands atleast one every 50-60 kms. There is nothing like a 'comfort zone' on the zma seat. You need to shift every 10-15 mins to relax a certain blood starved part of your bottom. But TB is comfort personified. You will need a break now and then only to beat the boredom that this comfort tends to create.

Handling and control :
Though a cruiser, TB seems to be better suited for city traffic conditions. I am not sure, but I guess it is for the same 'more torque at lower engine speeds' funda that applies to cars. Juat an observation, TB cruises at 80kmph@3000 rpm but zma needs 5000rpm for the same speed.

Looks:
People might contradict, but zma scores here. Agreed TB has this rugged,meant-for-business look, but in the age group where bikes matter, zma attracts more 'sights'.

Acceleration ( my original comparison point):
No comparison. zma will reach its destination by the time TB accelerates to top speed (exagerated, but close to truth). TB cries when open throttled. zma encourages.

For my physique, both are grossly ill suited bikes, but if I am still to make a choice, I will settle for ZMA. After all, not often do I get a chance to cruise to long distances. When I do, then what is a Wagon-R for eh?

What hurts more?

The fact that you are always thinking about some one who is very special to you and that life has gone completely haywire because of that.. or the fact that that special some one doesnt care for you more than the dogs that roam her street?
I feel its the latter..

A trek to KoDchadri peak - Jan 26/27 07 : Part 1

Kodachadri. Don’t ask me what that means. I cared as much to know what it meant as I did to know where it is. Before departure, I mean. Now I can give details on request. Such was the pining to go ‘anywhere’, that no sooner did a guy drop out from the trek team, I jumped in. Despite my dozen odd last minute ditches on prior invitations, Mithun (trek ‘lead’) was kind enough to call me for this one. All this, a day before the trek.

A few facts that I garnered about the peak (along the way):

1. The 4^th highest peak in Karnataka (at about 1350m above MSL).
2. A hundred odd km north-north east of Kundapur and a hundred odd km west of Shimoga. Hardly a fact, I know. But for a guy who thought it was a couple of hours ride from Bangalore, this fact was an eye-opener.
3. And needless to say, B E A UTIFULLLL…

This was apparently my second ‘official’ trek expedition. First one was way back in March 2006 to a peak somewhere in Coorg district, close to Honey Valley. A risible trek that one was, compared to this back breaking, pant tearing (literally, what with all those thorny shrubs on the way) one.

DAY 0:

To make sure that we do not end up expecting some junket to heaven with 5-star treatment, we were treated to some ‘Swades general compartment’ level 400 kms overnight bus journey to Kundapur. Surprisingly I managed to sleep through most part of the tumultuous ride (Bangalore-Mangalore NH has gone to dogs).

DAY 1:

After a sumptuous breakfast at Kundapur, we set out to Kollur (of the Mookambika fame). From Kollur its all the way UP, to the destination (approx 800m ascent). After a game of frisbie (by the way, we were seven trekkers) and an hour’s wait at Kollur bus stand, with the peak in the distant background, our final leg of ‘6 wheeled’ ride (for the next 24 hours) took us to Nittur. A bumpy jeep ride from here to a village that had ‘a hut and sugarcane fields around’,

left us at our starting point.

Destination #1: HiDlumane falls

A refreshing bath before the climb to the peak and lunch were planned here. But Mithun had decided that we fight for and win each of these small pleasures. With ~15kgs of whatever -we -needed -and -whatever -we -could -fill -in -the -rucksack load on the shoulders, we started our steep ascent, amidst slippery boulders, to the cascade. An hour’s climb and we were at the base of the falls. A war well fought that one.

Standing naked (almost) under the cascade’s cold, pricking needle-like droplets.. aah.. be there to feel it! Heavenly the experience was! We wished we could stay on for ever. But the peak beckoned. Any place we ate, we hogged. I wont repeat it again. With full tummies, we started our descent to the village with a hut and sugarcane fields around.

Destination #2 : Inspection Bungalow, below KoDachadri peak.

Again from the village with a hut and blah blah blah we started the climb, in a different direction this time. Climb. Rest. Climb. Rest. Cimb. Rest. The travail continued through dense shrubs, open grasslands and a sultry afternoon until we reached the IB before sunset, as planned.

Destination #3: The peak.

Almost all souls were badly battered by now. So close yet so far wouldn’t be a nice thing to go back and tell office mates. One final climb and the peak would be captured. But rest would come only at a premium this time. We were racing against time; treating ourselves to a pleasant sun set at the peak was the ultimate goal. And we did it! Breathtaking, marvelous, splendid. Oh boy! Were we lucky or what! Just the right setting to forget anything and everything that has troubled you through the day. Just the right setting to sit, hand in hand, with your girl friend, and discuss, what next. For the seven male trekkers at the peak, what next was not a problem. A mundane climb down to the bungalow, cooking, and sleeping is all we had to settle for. Hmmm. So much for romance on the hill top.

Much to the consternation of fellow trekking groups (from Philips and NI), we cooked our own dinner and relished it.. Rice, MTR ready to eat veg curries, pickle.. we had them all.

And then, a perfect ending to a not so perfect day: Sleep under a blanket of stars with natural air conditioning. More pleasing was the fact that the rug that I carried and cursed myself for carrying along was more than useful that night.

Short story

He lay there, on his death bed, with one last wish to make.
"Will you marry me", he laboured to ask.
"No", said she.
He closed his eyes and thought, for one last time.. "Shit. I shouldn't have killed myself for her".