Doodles of a crazy man!

Black Men. Big History. What a comparison! Next what? Compare Karunanidhi with Stevie Wonder? :) P.S: In a blog as old, surprisingly this is the first photo!

Disclaimer: Good understanding of Hindi , English , Kannada is recommended. And absolute tolerance towards non-sense is mandatory. I was just thinking about how some proverbs have multiple meanings when you interpret it using multiple languages. There is a proverb in Kannada called " Hani hani kooDidare haLLa " (Same meaning as "little drops of water makes a mighty ocean") Hani = Drop; haLLa = Water body Now, " hani " sounds exactly like "honey". "Honey" is a term used to address a very lovable female (or male depending on your gender and orientation!) Now " Honey honey kooDidare " means adding many such lovable females to your list - which means having multiple affairs. " haLLa " can also be interpreted as in " haLLa hidyadu " which means "to be in ruins". So, this proverb also means that multiple affairs are not advisable. Have you noticed that people from different countries have differe...

Tring Tring. Tring Tring. Tring Tring. Tring. "You have reached the automated voice messaging system of so-and-so. Please leave a message after the tone" Can you talk to the voice messaging system the same way as you would talk to its owner? If you can, I envy you. If you cant, do you know if there is a name for this disability? :) Just like anyone else, I talk to different people in different ways - the way of addressing, the tone, the language changes with each individual. Its like a protocol set between two people. The response of the person on the other side of the conversation is very important to that protocol. If its a voice messaging system, which is nothing but a dumb recorder - I cannot talk to it like I talk to its owner. I have tried it too hard, but it does not work! I try to sound as normal as possible, but I sound too weird! My recorded-voice-o-phobia is not limited to voicemails. I also hate calling customer support centers - it makes me very uncomfortable. If...

Its a very chilly night, perhaps the coldest I have seen till now. The sleeping pads, the heater, razaai just making sure that the death count in Grand Canyon does not go up. The thermals, jacket, sweater, gloves, socks, sleeping bag - losing the battle against the invincible cold. I am slightly shivering, unable to sleep.The whooshing wind outside acts as the perfect partner for the cold. Just like the pace bowlers, they hunt in pairs. My co-occupants of the tent - Krupa and Saif are sleeping peacefully. May be they were too tired by the travel or they have had their share of struggle with cold already. After more than an hour of losing sleep, I feel a bit drowsy. I enter my home in Mysore. Its too crowded. Dont know why there are so many people, may be some function. I proceed to the backyard, where a few cousins are sitting and chatting. I join the conversation. All of a sudden, I realize that there was a cricket match the previous day. What happened to the match, I ask my brother...

It was just another tuesday evening. A bit more strenuous perhaps. Yet another conf call. Tired voices. Stressed out faces. The projector looks the brightest in the room, almost too inhuman. I am just rocking in my chair and all of a sudden I am rocking more. And suddenly less. I shiver. Tense faces show unusual signs of alertness. "Hold on guys, we may be having an earthquake", tells my manager. A less tiring day, he would have screamed it. The realization had not hit me. I could not visualize the wreckage, the pile of garbage and unrecognizable dead bodies yet. Its just a little jerky boat ride. And then a slightly bigger tremor, that gives me what cricket commentators call butterflies in the tummy. "Will call later" declares my manager as he disconnects the phone. We all head towards the door. A colleague is just standing there coolly checking the message on his phone. Another colleague gets a text message within a few seconds from his brother - "You felt it...

The dark lady was sitting on a chair in the opposite row. Next to her was an innocent kid in weird red pants. Must have been her son I guess. He had a story book in his hand. The book did not have many pages and each page had a colorful picture with a sentence describing the story. The lady was translating the story into Kannada, which the kid listened to with astonished look on his face. The story was something like this: Peter (looked like a small bear or rabbit or some animal - could not figure out properly from a distance) was strolling around near the forest. Peter stopped for a moment as he saw a car parked there. He thought for a while and approached the car. He noticed that the car was unlocked. He got into the car and turned it on. He pressed the accelerator as the car sped away. As he was going down the road, he tried to apply the brakes. The brakes did not work and he panicked. He shouted "Help, help" out of desperation. Finally, he jumped out of the car and fe...

Its late evening. I am inside a bus, half asleep. When did I get into it? Where am I traveling to? Are these questions so very important? No, I will search for those answers when I wake up fully. The bus stopped. The electronic display sign on the bus reads "Stop Requested". A fat old man wearing a green t-shirt carries his bag and gets down. I hate these fat people, they take so much time to even get down from the bus, I crib. I cannot sleep if the bus is not moving. I curse the old man for spoiling my sleep and wake up fully. I look outside. All I can see is a broad, long road (may be 12 lanes) and no other traffic, I love it. Feels so peaceful. Why did the old man get down here? I dont see any bus stops here. The sky seems to have that bluish gray effect on the whole place. Is it the effect of the sky? Or the blue cooling paper on the window? The land on either side of the road looks barren and I dont see any other persons there. The light is very dim inside the bus, I can...

I woke up at 9.00 AM on the saturday morning. Not yet done with the full quota of my sleep, I said to myself and went into the extraaa sleep. Then, I had this weird dream. I am inside a very long house. Must have been constructed in a 20 x 2000 site! I suppose I am talking to a group of people I did not see very clearly. I feel very hungry and the people tell me that there is no food left in the house and I need to go to a nearby hotel. It takes me quite a long to reach the entrance of the house (the house was so long that the back door of the house cannot be seen from the entrance) I try to wear my slippers and I see somebody has put anna-sambar inside my slippers. I sit down near the door and I try to clean up my slippers and realize that the amount of food in my slippers can feed at least three people. There are three kids sitting in a queue near the entrance of the door, the eldest one first and the youngest one last. Only the first two kids are having food and I realize that the ...

(Late evening discussion at my home on sunday) "You have got a pimple, anna", exclaimed a friend of mine. "So?" "Somebody has a crush on you!" "Really? This is the first time I am hearing this theory" "Yeah, you did not know about it?" "No, I am getting pimples from more than 10 years. I never realized who all those people were", I started laughing. What started out as casual talk soon turned out into serious discussion. I was proposing theories, building stories around it. Okay, lets assume that the pimple-crush connection is right. But, whats the use? We will never know who the person is. Its like getting missed calls in old phones which don't have caller ids! May be there should have been ids associated with pimples. Then, it would have helped the crushee recognize the crusher (is that the right word? ;)) Nobody there calls this pathetic joke of mine as a pathetic one. They are such nice people! Okay, this theory sounds...

1) I am on top of the hill. The cool breeze hits my face, I love it. I am briskly descending the steps. Well, I am almost running. I see a few oldies with huge pot bellies, desperately trying to get rid of decades of hard earned fat. A beautiful girl just passes by. I have not seen her before; she is definitely not from my college! I increase my walking pace, I can reach down within 10 mins. And suddenly, I slip, lose my balance and fall down the slope… …and I wake up! I look at my watch. It was less than 5 mins since I had slept. Not once have I got up in the middle of the night because of this dream. (whenever I get this dream, I get this within 5 mins of sleep) I had read somewhere that this is the most common dream and ‘insecurity’ is the cause for this (Great discovery! No one can prove it wrong, as all the people have some insecurity or the other!) 2) Sometime in 2001. Its my last semester exam. The question paper is very easy, I know answers to all the questions. But, I am very ...

I'm standing in the noisiest street Searching for a bit silence Its way too crowded out here And all I need is some oxygen. Some say hi as they walk past me Few smiled and spoke nice words The handshakes, the smiles and hugs Made me feel more pathetic. Couldn't stay for long, I had to run But didn't move an inch Is the whole world against me Or am I on a treadmill? Feel like I'm falling off a deep cliff Gravity reduced by a tenth All the cacophony around me Fused into a symphony. I am too tired of the journey And only a few breaths left All of a sudden I realize that I was looking at a huge mirror. PS 1 : If this does not make any sense, congrats! You are in perfect mental health. PS 2 : This is not a poem. Its just a combination of non sense and new line characters, for better readability.

Got this idea when I watched the movie "You've Got Mail". This is not a spoof per se, as that movie was quite good. Its just that I got this weird idea - well, I must say, its my version of "You've Got Mail". Our heroine is X (as per the biological conventions and it also reduces typing effort) You can call her Kathlene Kelly. Or Pooja Malhotra, Simran Oberoi or Sonia Agarwal - if you are a huge bollywood fan and it suits your sensibilities. Our hero is Y. Or Joe Fox. Or Raj Singhania, Vikram Chopra or Rahul Saxena or whatever. X is a typical fun loving girl, taking life as it comes and living every moment (whatever that means!). She likes to tell that she loves travelling (to prove that she is passionate and fun loving) and her favorite book is "The Alchemist" just because it is one of those over-hyped books and gives you an "intellectual" image. She is considered beautiful because of her ability to carefully choose far far uglier...

I walked as fast as I could. Got inside the apartment and locked the door. Still breathing heavily, I tried to comprehend the strange events in the last 20 mins. I tried to put different pieces of my logic together to see if it makes any sense. Its been quite sometime since I had gone for swimming. I decided to go today even though it was cold. There were very few people in the pool. By the time I had my shower, even they were gone. I was alone in the pool. Great! Not every day you can have the whole pool for yourself. Three dudes, who were smoking, were sitting outside the pool, accompanied by three girls. I started swimming. Did I hear something? Yes, I heard it more than once. I stopped and looked around. One of the girls was telling something to me. "Your swimming trunks are cool". What? The black trunk with small green circles I was wearing, was actually pathetic. May be she is trying to make fun of me. Thats okay girl, you can be mea...

Last tuesday, I was travelling from Bangalore to Mysore by my car. It was a cool evening and the Mysore-Bangalore highway was great. Was I all alone? Not exactly! I remembered what I had told my friend a few days back - "Diamonds are a woman's best friend and for a man, its his iPod" :) Prem Joshua was playing sitar as only he could. Not many things in the world can be as blissful as music! In less than an hour I was almost near Maddur. Suddenly, some weird song was being played from my ipod (which was almost scary!). I just stopped my car to the extreme left of the empty road, to change the song. On the other side of the road were a few dhabas. The song being played was "Spirit", by a group called "Atman", from the album "Buddha Bar 2". I just scrolled through a few songs and selected the song "Shiva Moon". I kept the ipod on the seat next to me, placed my left hand on the gear and turned my head to the right. Just two feet aw...