The Ever Growing Post of Original Quotes.

Hey.

It's been a long time since I blogged anything. So here's me making an effort to blog a little more regularly.

For starters, I'd like to announce that no more quotes will be posted here. Instead, all new quotes and all the old ones will be posted at

http://www.quotesdaddy.com/user/bubbasamuel

Please do visit, if you still like my quotes :P

Ciao.

Silly-Con Valley of India

This is Bang bang bang Bangalore?

Due to unforeseen circumstances, I am forced to cancel my confirmed ticket on Brindavan express. So what do I do? Pick an alternative. It’s Thursday afternoon. And it’s the 14th of August. No hopes of a bus or train ticket falling into my lap, so I choose the expensive way out. A flight ticket to Chennai. Expensive, but worth it. All I need to do now is get myself to the airport. Easy. That’s what I think, but that’s when it starts to pour cats and dogs. No, actually it’s pouring elephants and hyenas.

The cab that was due to pick me up at 8.00 pm is far behind schedule. So I take matters into my own hands (or legs to be more appropriate) and brave the rains. It’s taken me a trek of 2.6 kms in a torrent to realize that I’ve made a mistake. This is Bangalore. Rickshaws don’t do your bidding, they do YOU.

Finally by 8.50 pm. I’ve managed to coax a cab to take me to the airport. By now the city is chaotic. The unforgiving rain (thank you god), and the unyielding gutters have decided to sink the city. I am soaked, I stink, and I am just an hour and half away from the flight that will deliver me from this trench.

The cab guy assures me that I will make it. Energized by his enthusiatic mumble, I give in. I stop glancing at my watch, I literally give up praying. I am convinced I will make it. I get there 2 minutes too late. Thanks to a suddenly duty conscious police department that decides to stall my cab for a routine check that costs me 10 minutes. And the drug buster at the check-in entrance who's whacky intrument insists i am carrying coke. After letting him go through all the contents in my bag, he let's me go. I rush to the check-in counter only to be told the flight is already set for take off, so no chance of me getting on. They are courteous enough to offer me a seat in the next flight. I succumb.

Now remember, this is Devanahalli, a place that’s 2 hours away (in decent traffic conditions) from where I stay. I’ve missed my 10.25 pm flight by 2 minutes and the next flight is at 9.50 am. I decide to go home. But wait. I am told I can’t leave the airport unless I fly out (what kind of a rule is that?). I spend the next 13 hours in the airport trying my best not to doze off. The only help I have is coffee. Courtesy Café Coffee Day. Oh! I almost forgot. The rain has laid my cell phone to rest. It got drenched and conked by the time I got into the cab, so by now I have absolutely no means of communication to the outside world. Like everyone else Iam completely dependent on my cell phone. I don't write down numbers anywhere. I don't even have my house number memorised. So what do i do? I manage to find an old gentleman, kind enough to let me insert my sim in his instrument for a few minutes. Thanks to him i retreived my home number from a message sent earlier. Now I can use the phone booths and inform home of the calamity that has struck. I spot 2 red PCO phones. But the trouble is they need to be fed 1 Rupee coins to work. I am shocked, in the age of web 2.0, the International airport has no means of communication other than a coin fed public phone? I mean, come on, who the hell carries 1 Rupee coins anymore? Anyways I try my luck with the Café for coins and thankfully they had a few. A very few mind you because their prices are all multiples of five. Armed with 5 coins, I make my way to the phone and make the call home. I have to rush through the details of my forced change in travel plans because the machine's gobbling a coin every 10 seconds. Well, atleast I am a bit relieved after the call. I settle into a chair and survey my surroundings. My home for the next 13 hours. I can't believe I am waiting 13 hours for a flight that lasts 40 minutes. I silently laugh at the irony of it.

So here I am, trapped in a glass enclosure with Arabs, Americans and I don’t know who else. No food, no entertainment, no escape. I am feeling a bit like Tom Hanks, but no Catherine Zeta Jones around though.

I am not the only one that’s being tortured by an undeniably ill functioning Bangalore city. I speak for all in my shoes. This city has gone to the dogs. What was the need to move the airport so far away from the city? Why do rains always leave the city in havoc? Why aren’t auto rickshaws being regulated by the transport department?

Of Brews & Board Games

Until yesterday, I’d forgotten how much fun it is to play board games. It’s been years since I played one. I used to love them when I was a kid. I had my own scrabble set, Scotland yard, monopoly and lots of other board games, until I discovered video games and the internet. Then my mother, noticing my disinterest in board games, passed them on to my growing cousins. Actually, her intention in giving those games away was rather selfish that philanthropic. She wanted to make more shelf space available for her doll collection.

Anyway, like I said, I’d forgotten how much fun those games were. Especially on rainy days, when you’re stuck indoors, those board games were a means to kill extra long hours of inactivity and boredom. Yesterday a friend of mine took me to BrewHaHa. Brewhaha is…how do I say it? Well, the way its co-owners Sreeram and Mansur (both products of IIM Ahmedabad) put it is “a community-driven entertainment lounge where there's always something to do. Whether it's one of our 65 specially imported board games designed at group audiences, our fun events or hobby classes, we assure you there's no way you're going to be bored in Koramangala any more. Unless of course you're not at BrewHaHa!” Yup, there’s no way you’ll ever get bored at BrewHaHa, as I discovered.

I am not going into details on BrewHaHa, because what I really mean to relate in this post is the experience I had there. So if you’re looking for intricate details on menu, games and stuff like that, go to the above link. Also you may visit this link – My Coffee Shop Dreams by my friend and fellow blogger – Dhivya. Although, I suggest that going there with a bunch of friends is a better way to discover what brews there.

Ok, so this friend took me to BrewHaHa at Koramangala. The first thing that struck me was that the place had a warmer welcoming ambiance. Not like one of those flashy, loud cafés or their clones which make me feel like I am being gawked at. Not like places that serve your bill before serving what you ordered. Those places make me feel really alien. I felt instantly comfy at BrewHaHa. My friend immediately pounced at the menu and started ordering, while I looked around a little more. The colours were earthy, the lighting was warm and the furniture was inviting (Bean bags, cushy carpets, fluffy pillows…you get the idea). Next was a shocker, a guy with a french beard came up and shook my hand and introduced himself to me (very cordially) as Sreeram, I was thinking ‘Sweet…how many guys do that? That’s going to be a real winner with the customers’. Sreeram, who my friend knew pretty well, chatted up with us for a while and offered to teach and to play a board game with us after we had feasted. So, like he promised, he came over to our table again after a while with a friend of his and we started playing a board game. The game was a real riot, Sreeram actually cheated on my suggesting it and we had a great laugh at my poor friend who became the Bakra. The objective of the game (I don’t remember the name) was not to win but to make sure your opponents don’t win. I can’t remember when I’d last laughed that hard. My eyes were watering and my tummy hurt. After a while it started raining like hell, so being stranded, we started playing another game. This one was called ‘Coda’. It’s a game that’s pretty much like poker, but instead of cards there are white and black plastic blocks with numbers on them. Wow…I must say this was a damn gripping game. I didn’t know how time passed by during the 3 rounds we played.

In short, my experience at BrewHaHa was fabulous. Next time my friends want to meet up at a café or some place like that. I am definitely suggesting BrewHaHa. It’s not expensive, it serves delicious food and beverages, it’s got great board games and the atmosphere is perfect for a gathering of friends. Oh…and most importantly, you can’t walk out of BrewHaHa without making, at least a couple, new friends. I made two…Sreeram and Vinu. What more do you need? The baseline under BrewHaHa’s logo says ‘We take your fun seriously’, and I believe they mean it. So next time you and your buddies want to have some serious fun…head to BrewHaHa.

Little Miss Panic

Consider the following two incidents

Incident Uno

It’s 10.00AM on Monday and Dhivya walks into the office. She goes straight to her comp, switches it on, logs on to her numerous mail accounts, checks her schedule for the day, sips her coffee and then heads to the creative department for a brief chit chat session. After a ‘hi’ here and a ‘hello’ there, the topic turns to work, that’s when Vijay, the visualiser, tells Dhivya, “Hey! That reminds me, that 100cc ad you wanted me to transfer to the studio this morning…the file got corrupted, and…”

Even before he could finish what he was saying Dhivya erupts, “Aaaagh!!!!! That ad was supposed to reach the publication by 12 noon. What the hell Vijay? How could you not get the bugs in your comp rectified? You always do this to me man. Besides all the bull shit I have to endure to get work done from you guys, now I have to listen to some major crap from the publication too. You guys always let me down. Oh my god! Its TOI, you know how they are, they’re gonna castrate me. They’ll talk to my boss. I am finished here. Now, I’ll have to look for another job and I’ll never be able to…”

“Woo! Hey! Hey! Hold your horses…let me finish what I am saying. Yes, the file got corrupted so I re-created it and sent it to the studio. I just wanted you to take a look and see if it’s exactly how you presented to the client. That’s all. Jesus! You’re such a compulsive panicker,” retorted Vijay.

“Oh. Hee hee! So everything’s fine. God you gave me such a scare…uh let me go send an important mail to my client”, with that Dhivya sheepishly vanishes from the scene.

Incident Dos

It’s 10.30PM, same Monday, Dhivya’s at home, cozily settled with a book. That’s when her phone decides to sing.

“Trrrrriiiing….Trrrrriiiing”

“Hello…hi Ravi, what’s up?

“Hey. I was just driving through your neighbourhood. Listen, this friend I was supposed to go to a movie with, ditched me. So I got 2 tickets to that new flick you so badly wanted to go see. Wanna go? I can pick you in five.

“Oh no! you got tickets to that movie? Oh sure I wanna go…but wait, I can’t go tonight…I got this really big pimple on my nose and I reeeeeaaaally can’t be seen sporting it in public….oh god! I reeeeeeaaaally wanna see that movie man. Sniff, sniff, why do these things happen to me? God! I hate this…What do I do? What do I do? Waaaah…I so badly wanna go.”

“Hey chill yaar, why are you making such a big fuss about a lousy pimple? People will think nothing of it. You’re not a starlet for people to notice everything and anything about you all the time. Besides you’ll only have to be seen in the light a few minutes. I’ll whisk you into the movie hall quickly so that no one will notice the pimple in the darkness”

“You always make fun of me. You never take things seriously. No! I’ll see it with Ram another time. You can go see it alone or throw away the tickets for all I care…bye…sniff.”

“What the…Dhivya…hey...”

“tooon…tooon…”

A baffled Ravi…drives back home not knowing what hit him.

That’s little miss panic for you. I work with her, and often watch her panic for both the silliest and serious matters of life. She’s a real panic pot. I must say it’s quite a sight for the onlooker, but what do you think is going on through her mind when she’s having a panic attack?

Some people just panic about anything and everything. I think it’s a way of curbing a high dose of adrenaline rushing through their veins. A means to clear the traffic of thoughts honking at a four cross signal in their minds. It’s perfectly normal. Many times Dhivya has asked me “You get such a kick out of watching me panic don’t you?” Well, the truth is yes and no.

To an extent it’s comical and who wouldn’t like a nice laugh. It actually helps relax my mind and focus more clearly after watching such a comical display. But I don’t enjoy it all the time either. I am not saying you should never panic. But pick where to panic. If you panic for everything, people will never think you capable of handling responsibility. Part of being in the advertising industry is about being able to handle chaos. There’s always chaos, everyday. By panicking, you’re not gonna make the world stop spinning. And neither is the world gonna end if you don’t.

Panic when you see an accident on the road…not when it happens on the movie screen.

But I guess for compulsive panickers it is really hard. And probably I don’t really understand how they feel. But hey, I always tell Dhivya to go ahead and do her thing if it helps chill her.

That said I’d also like to add one last thing little miss panic…’Sorry for laughing at you when you panic and sorry for the exaggerated mimic act I keep doing of you panicking’…:)

Homemaker Man

I’ve got this couple - Michael & Reena, who live next door. At first glance you’d notice nothing strange about them. They come across as the average young couple. Childless and very much in love with each other. But, watch them closely day in and day out and you’ll catch exactly what I am talking about.

Every morning you’ll see Reena come out of the house at about 8.30. She’d be wearing formal attire. No prizes for guessing she’s a working woman. Well, that’s nothing odd in our society. In recent years women have really challenged men at the workplace, and proven just as competitive as any man in every field. So, Reena is a working woman with a regular 9 to 5 grind. Michael on the other hand (and this is the odd part) can be seen watering and trimming their lovely little garden from 9 to about 11. Then, around 12 noon you can see Michael bringing out freshly washed linen to the drying lines. Shortly after that Michael can be seen driving off and returning in about an hour’s duration with brimming paper bags. At about 4 in the evening Michael clears the dried linen from the lines and takes them indoor. Following that you’ll find him sitting at their cute little tea table out in the garden, reading the paper and sipping chai. Reena arrives shortly, joins Michael in the garden, the couple sit around chatting over chai for an hour and then they head in for the night.

At first, I thought this was a temporary arrangement. My thoughts ranged from
‘Michael must have recently quit his job and looking for a better option’.
‘Maybe Michael is a novelist’
Or even ‘Michael must be working for one of those fancy work-from-home companies’
I never even came close to the truth of the matter while pondering.

Michael is actually a new age husband. A ‘revolutionary’, if I may term him that. Michael is a ‘House husband’. Don’t laugh. There is nothing to laugh about. If you spoke to Michael you’d be convinced that being a homemaker is what he enjoys best. And Reena (who loves him unconditionally) is absolutely fine with the arrangement. From a very early age, Michael showed no signs of fighting it out in the outside world. Being the bread winner to him seemed a drab. He always wanted to be the homemaker. And this position he enjoys thoroughly. He devotes as much attention to making sure the house is squeaky clean just as any other man would to make his presentation flawless. And on the other hand Reena displays all the attributes of an enterprising young woman. She is ruthlessly ambitious when it comes to her job. It’s a fine arrangement for this couple. Both doing their part even though the roles are reversed.

I don’t know what to think of this situation. I know a lot of people in my locality who think Michael is a pansy. But I for one, having known the man, know that he is anything but pansy. Like I said, he’s a military general when it comes to running the house.

Is it wrong for a man to differ from the pre-ordained societal role? Why should man always be the provider? In a world were women want equality in everything, why can’t a man do a woman’s job? What really is a man’s job and what is a woman’s job? Who makes these dumb rules anyway?

I don’t know the answers but I have no problem with accepting Michael as a man. He does exactly what he likes to do and thoroughly enjoys doing it. Reena has no complaints. She’s actually been freed from her pre-ordained societal role to pursue her interests. So, what actually is wrong with this situation? Nothing. But I guess it will take decades, or even centuries, before the Indian society accepts role reversals. It’s becoming quite common in other parts of the world, but it’s still not widely accepted.

This might be a very controversial topic for a blog. Don’t get me wrong I am not saying I like to be like Michael. I enjoy my work and I would definitely like to be the bread winner of my family. But, if Michael likes to be a homemaker, I have nothing against him. Then why should society feel any different?

Disclaimer: All characters in this blog are fictitious and any resemblance to any one alive or dead is purely accidental.

Faith and the almighty

Hello my dear Sunday Christians, ardent five time a day mosque visitors and diligent weekly temple frequenters. Tell me something now, are you really going to these holy places to find god or catch up on gossip? Of course you don’t have to answer that without a lawyer onboard, I know I am overruled for this really sensitive Q but if I rephrase it would you answer me? Did you find god?

I am still waiting for an answer. Speak up bravely brethren, I can’t hear you. I suppose you don’t like the question but sorry I am not leaving until you answer it. What was that? I can’t question faith? Why not? How do I even begin to trust if I can’t have my questions answered? Honestly speaking I can boast that I am more religious or rather, more pious than 10 regular church goers put together. I don’t put a show by being a regular at church. I don’t take responsibilities for church funds and misappropriate them later. I don’t consider my space in heaven booked if I read the sermon to a gathering of so called Christians on Sunday; I don’t find falling in love with a person of different faith wrong. And I certainly don’t care for the political motives driving the modern church.

My mother is a pious woman. She’s a regular at church and an enthusiastic do-gooder. Yet, I find her faith rather alarming than heart warming. Why? Because I see her good nature disturbingly inclined towards a money hungry organization disguised in white, the church. Yikes! I can’t believe she’d gladly give thousands to the church rather than a rupee to a wayward beggar. Is this true faith?

I am told that god is everywhere; in speck and in splendor, then why seek him within a whitewashed encasement? I am told god is a father who answers his children whenever he is beseeched anywhere, yet we throng in thousands to the white encasement on any given Sunday to seek him. Odd I’d say. Are we stupid or are we stupid? Let me tell you this, I don’t approve of churches or mosques or temples yet I am god fearing. My god is in me and he is never away from me. I don’t want to stick a label on him that’s anything but “GOD”. I speak to him and he answers me whenever I want. I take my problems to him and he sooths my hyperactive heart. Isn’t that faith? I haven’t been in a church in almost 8 months now (I am forced to attend mass every Christmas at least). Yet I can confidently say I walk with god each day. Proof? You want proof? Well I haven’t any but keep your eye on me and maybe you might believe me.

To me god is a friend unseen. Always nearby. There’s no set way to speak to him. Call him what you feel like; father, brother, dad, papa or even dude (that’s what I call him). He’s not really picky about it. He only wants you to acknowledge his presence. That, I can confidently say I do every single day. What more do I want? A membership at the local neighborhood church so as to ensure a 6 by 3 resting place for my shell when life leaves it? Nah…not interested. I really don’t care if I was buried or burned. All that matters is that I live my tenure on this earth as a good human being. And I am sure that that’s what he expects too. Well brethren, I really don’t know if I am right or wrong in following this path I find right. But I have no regrets. When the day of reckoning comes we shall know how it has turned out for you as well as me. But till then, I really don’t see why I must change my way of faith for the world. I won’t do it just to belong; I won’t do it for better marital proposals and surely not for decent burial ground. That would be so against my faith. I know my mom won’t approve of what I’ve just voiced here, but then my faith isn’t her call. I am what I am today because of my mother. Though she didn’t mean to, she’s the reason for what my faith is today. And I don’t see anything wrong with it and neither has the dude hinted at a change of course. I guess this path that I walk will one day lead me to an answer that may turn out favorable or sour. Till then I can only say this…Amen.