Imagine

A song by John Lennon, I've been humming since morning. Its been my all time favourite and its no wonder that its been voted as the greatest single of all time. The words are truly captivating for a humanist like me.

Imagine

Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

I am a dreamer.

Maximum (Rude) City

A decent amount of senseless rambling follows below on whether Mumbai deserves to wear the crown of the Rudest City in the world. Read it, if you are not interested.

Reader's Digest conducted this survey to sort out cities in terms of their politeness ratio. Mumbai's name was thrown in being the more populated, popular and possibly the most polite city in India. And what are the frivolous parameters to decide politeness? Simply whether people hold the door for someone behind, whether they pick up someone's strewn papers on the pavement and whether the local chachaji at the grocery store acknowledges, smiles and thanks his customers.

Undoubtedly, the West will reign supreme with these politeness coefficients. These are based on their culture and their way of life. People in India might not abide well by those rules. They have their own politeness rules. For instance in Mumbai, you can bet every single penny, that if you lose your wallet or cellphone in a taxi or rickshaw, you are bound to get it back. And what about those so-thought pesky neighbours, who always call you home and treat you, when your parents are out of town; something I am experiencing right now. Don't you forget the Mumbai floods, when the city poured out its water and love on every suffering human and animal. Ethically, if I am morally nice, then do I need that courtesy to please? My advice : In Rome, simply do what the Romans do.

As David Gregory Roberts in his autobio "Shantaram" rightly says that we Indians might not show our love upfront, but the love in our hearts is enormous. This is not to say that Mumbaikars are the most polite in the world. The catch is that you can't judge politeness on a specific set of parameters.

By the way, am not too sure that the Latinos hold doors for others. I think, they just wait and ram it onto the next person.

Run, the Indians are coming!

This ain't any bomb attack. This is an economic onslaught of sorts. What a weekend for Indian companies!

We first see Mittal finally triumphing over French nationalism. Arcelor. For a few integers more than a whopping 23 billion euros. Despite being rebuked by Arcelor and the European media, he never lost hold of his ambition - something we don't see from normally defensive Indians. Mittal did flash his lucre and it is precisely this which undid all those hardcore nationalists. And though one can argue that Mittal Steel is not Indian and does not even have a plant in its hinterland, the dude still holds an Indian passport.

Then we see the Aditya Birla group make a Canadian acquisition. Minacs, Canada's largest BPO firm was bought by Transworks for $125 million. Gosh, we are still talking in millions. This is the largest acquisition by the Indian BPO industry and will catapult Transworks into the top 10. Three Cheers!

And finally, will the Tatas stay behind? My present grand-employer, the risk-averse Tata is slowly spreading out its arm globally. This weekend, it was Tata Coffee buying Eight O' Clock, a 100-year-old-number-3 coffee company in the US. Shelling out $220 million in the process. JRD is having the last laugh.

All I can say is that this is just the beginning. Just run...

The 8 Knockouts

So here we are - midway through the World Cup and the beginning of the knockout stage, which is when the finger nails suffer the most. Quite a few games in the preliminary round notched up absolute fairy tales. Tales of grit, passion and stupidity only seen in the beautiful game. But the real war for Middle Earth begins tomorrow for the Fellowship of the Cup. Devour on these predictions for the Round of 16:

Germany vs Sweden: Generally a World Cup host tends to do well and I prefer not to disturb the historians. A German win by a single goal.
Argentina vs Mexico: Ahaaa! The Albiceleste have played like true champions with Messi, Riquelme and Tavez giving nightmares to the opposition. Should I say more? Bye bye Mexicana by 3 golas.
England vs Ecuador: England will suffer a few jittery moments at the hands of the Latino minnows. But will somehow scrape through. Rooney to inspire them and score goals.
Portugal vs Netherlands: A game, as salivating as this, ought to be decided on a few fantabulous goals. Tough to pick one here. As much as I hate to say it, this game will be decided on penalties. Portugal.
Italy vs Australia: The Aussies have surprised all except me. Guus Hiddink somehow manages to inspire a bunch of hardworking players and creates upsets. It was the Azzuri ousted by the Hiddink Koreans last time and this time the Aussies play ball with Cahill and Aloisi. A victory the Aussies will cherish for a long time.
Switzerland vs Ukraine: The game will witness a duel of equals with both teams slugging it out. It will be time for Shevchenko to spin some magic. But the Swiss will just hold good. Switzerland by a goal.
Brazil vs Ghana: An encounter I am dying to watch, simply because of the way both play the game. An encounter replete with attacks and counterattacks. An encounter between the Brazilian Samba and the African gazelle. The African's naivete will be their bane. Rio erupts in a carnival for the 2 goals.
Spain vs France: Its Zidane's last World Cup and he cannot afford to disappoint us more. The Spanish Armada, rolling every opposition on the way, will be up against a rejuvenated French side . Les Francais are back with a bang, credit to Zizou and Henry.

The Motorcycle Diaries

Mindblowing! I am talking of the stupendous movie "The Motorcycle Diaries" based on the life of Che Guevara. And I bet, following the movie, most of you would be spending over an hour googling on this revolutionary, whose image adorns the walls and T-shirts of every rebel on this planet.

The movie explores the romaticism of adventure in Latin America. Guevara, the physician and Alberto, his biochemist friend decide to embark on an 8000 km motorcycle trip, trying to realise a dream. Beneath the backdrop of the stunning South American landscape, Che grapples with the poverty and the oppression suffered by the natives. And decides to take up their cause. A true hero!

Just the kind of movie to make one think the true purpose of life.

Throbbing headache

Yeah. Thats what I have right now. And its due to "What was first, the chicken or the egg?" DUH!

Micro to Macro

Let me take up the case of a few living organisms: from micro to macro

I am an amoeba. I am blobby, asexual and almost invisible to the eye. I love cutting myself into two.
I am a mosquito. I have two wings which when flapped creates a Himesh like sound. I love sucking.
I am a rat. I am always horny and plagued by a host of sewer kids to look after. I love cheese.
I am a cat. I am lazy, purr a lot and my cat-eyes are adored by every male. I love Garfield.
I am a dog. I am loyal, bark at innocuous strangers and piss near poles. I love bitches.
I am a chimpanzee. I am smart, have a Colgate set of teeth and enjoy picking hair lice. I love Bush.
I am a human. I am philosophical, fart badly and spend my entire life looking for paper notes and sex. I love to fight over Gods.
I am an elephant. I am too fat, have a trunk to wash asses and hate balancing on two legs in circuses. I love Ganesha.
I am a T-Rex. I don't know much about myself, because something hit me. I love Spielberg
I am King Kong. I am gigantic, enjoy ice-bum skating and giving a choke slam to a T-Rex. I love Ann Darrow.
I am an alien. I am omnipotent, ugly and enjoy watching The Earth News. I love being a God.

The Kite Runner

Go the nearest bookstore and steal this book by Khaled Hosseini. Literally! Its one of those books, which lets your wear the protaganist's hat and experience his emotions. Its about a young Afghani, who yearns for love from his father. Its about a young Afghani servant, who is brutally loyal to his Master's son. Its about a father, who could never come to terms with his child. Its about an Afghanistan, which basked in peace and life in the early 70s. Its about an Afghanistan, which was ruptured and annihilated by the Taliban. Its about a young orphan whose innocence makes him my hero.

There is a moment, when you get that 'lump' in your throat. And when you do, you won't forget it!

Garfield capers

Super Sunday

Something akin to the Super Bowl in North America. What an awesome day to watch television! Am a true sports buff and need I ask for anything more. A warm sunny day along with Alonso's pace made for an awesome British F1 GP. Then you literally see Nadal blow away Federer of all people, in the French Open final. Add to that, India blazing away with a humungous score in St. Lucia against the West Indies. And how can one forget the World Cup! Already there have been such beautifully crafted games, it just takes your breath away.
Amidst all this heavy action, I managed to catch Coldplay's stage performance on VH1.

Voila! It was a Sunday, Bloody Sunday.

My First World Cup GOAL

Venue: A German loo.


The World Cup showdown is minutes away and let me be the first one to score a goal. Psssssssssssssssss. GOOOAAAAALLLL.

And as they say in German: Entschuldigung bitte, Ich liebe Fussball

The Soap Factor

These shrieky, loud Indian TV soaps are really frazzling me out. There is nothing in this world that can stop a household woman from watching soap idiots at primetime. Poor me, my PC is right beside the BPL box! All I try and do is bear the ignominy and let my Ma watch the catfight unfolding on the screen. I noticed a few common traits in all these dramas:
1. The male-female ratio is 80:20
2. All the women are clad in super jewellery and heavy saris
3. The family is always happy and gay, until the vamp enters the scene
4. The vamp is generally voluptuous
5. 75% of the show is devoted to high decibel background music
6. The music reaches fever high pitch, when the vamp blurts accusations
7. At the end of the accusations, a sad song erupts lasting for 10 minutes
7. 75% of the camera shots are close up shots of the women
8. Crying/tears take up 20% of the time
9. Shouldn't sound too chauvinistic. The men generally have extra-marital affairs
10. The whole damn thing is entirely predictable.

No wonder, men come home late and watch comedy shows!

Day of the Satan

Its 06/06/06 and I should already be dead now. The apocalypse was expected at 6:06 pm - right in the middle of a technical session. What an uncool place to die. But here I am, right now, munching a fruit, grinning at the Philips screen.

But Satan did strike a blow with an increase in petrol prices. My Herbie will require me to shell out more to satisfy her vrooming thirst.

Queen's Necklace

Visited the famed Marine Drive this evening with a bunch of 'reunion' friends. Nothing has changed and I hope it never does. The beauty of the sea and the evening sky, coupled with this curvaceous stretch of Mumbai can enthrall any gloomy soul. And these souls, each having their own rainbow dreams, are perched on the sea-side wall, looking into the distant sea dreaming for more colors in their life. That's when one falls head over heels in love with Mumbai. One simply feels like saying 'Mumbai Meri Jaan'.

I'd recommend every human on this planet to experience this splendour at dusk.

Mad dogs and Englishmen

The dogs here are the English media and the hooligans. With the World Cup hours away, they continue with their tradition to howl about their soccer prowess. If Wayne Rooney has an injury, why does the media blast it as a top headline all across the world? All this for a team which has won just a single World Cup - in 1966, that too on a freak controversial goal by Geoff Hurst. Frankly, no one cares about what they are upto. What everyone does care about is how their wives are doing a.k.a. Mrs. Beckham. As for the hooligans, Germany should get ready to face destruction of property and a higher libido associated with these alcoholic beasts.

I am all for the blue striped Argentina.

Where are the baseball caps?

US baseball players and fans are in for a shock. They are not able to locate or buy any new caps. What disaster has befallen this industry?

Well, Himesh Reshammiya is to be blamed. His caps are selling like hot cakes. Every Tom, Dick & Harry wants to buy one. The US cap industry is reportably exporting all their stocks to India to sustain the tremendous demand.

Sania or Saina

After Sania Mirza was devoted 53,254 lines of print media, 175 hours of television and 1.34 GBs of JPEGS last year, the outcome is simple: she hasn't been able to justify all that space. With a new coach behing her back and an improved training regimen, she was expected to improve and move up in the rankings. But this lass has disappointed all her fans with her game.

To substitute all that lost media space comes a new teenage wonder. Her name is Saina Nehwal. This 16 year old Hyderabadi gal recently won an international badminton tournament! Now here's hoping this child prodigy doesn't dismay us like the other S.

So my question is what is the difference between Sania and Saina?
A. One hits balls, while the other hits cocks. (Gross!!)