Shifting site!

Two blogs are too much for me to manage :P
I'll hereafter post at Gibberdom alone.

That's life

Got a message from this friend. She has delivered a baby boy! I don’t remember anything about her that is not impish. Now that kid has got a kid of her own. Amazing.

I wonder how the new kid would find his life. He has got a contender in his own mother. I can visualize the kid and his mother fighting for toys and chocolates, conspiring mischievous deeds together, etc. I am sure the dad is going to have one hell of a time managing the two brownies.

Thought bubbles. Flashback. Sweet old college days. Our department suddenly woke up from its tiresome modus operandi and decided to have some fun by getting a bit sociable. We called out for an inter-college meet – Icon.

After a series of rapid adventures and misadventures, we reached the final day of the first edition of Icon. This particular friend of mine was handed over the responsibility to make the valedictory speech of the meet. She possessed the best diction and pronunciation among us and above all, she wasn’t scared of addressing a bunch of nerds. Surprisingly, I was handed over the job of composing the speech. I have heard people saying that my scripts are not too nauseous. But, I always had this doubt that they made such statements just to pass me on the boring job of penning bizarre proses that they prefer to avoid.

I decided to be dramatic and wrote the opening sentence sounding something like – “We feel like a proud mother watching her triumphant son... blah... blah...”. Well, I thought that it was a nice (though out dated) analogy to express our joy on the success of Icon.

The moment she read the statement she screamed “Gadha. Ullu kahin ka. How dare you though that I would mouth such a statement? Like I am the mother of a kid... Sheesh...”. Well, I deserved that compliment for doing what none was ready to do – to script that goddamned speech. I promptly rephrased my marvellous opening statement to a duller one.

Now, that very girl is the mother of a kid. Amazing, isn’t it?

Hell at the backyard of the Heaven.

Stepped out of the apartment building. World was pleasant outside the door. Was it drizzling so very faint? Was the moisture content of the air a bit heavy? No idea. But, it did make me wipe my glasses every now and then. Spring was at its glorious best. Green everywhere with bright little flowers. Gentle breeze swept across. Strong enough to make my hairs and jacket flow. And, soft enough not to push or pull me. The trees rained flowers along the lanes. Rainy days do have a distinct smell. Smell of soil, greens and their flowers. Strings was crooning “Yeh hai meri kahani” in my ears. It was bliss. Who said heaven is somewhere far off? I was there this morning.

Stepped into the office. Sneezed a couple of times. May be I should have zipped up my jacket. Looked at myself in the mirror. What a mess my hairs had become? May be I should have used my umbrella. Sensed an ache waking up in my head. Who said hell is somewhere far off? It is right at the backyard of the heaven.

Life full of risks

After all these years of experience, I thought that I had learnt the art. But, yesterday I proved myself wrong. That too, through a painful act, drawing quite some blood.

It wasn’t some daredevil act where I spilled blood. Getting injured is certainly painful. No doubt about it. But, when you go past the painful period, you will step into the nicer side of getting injured. Now, believe me when I say that there is something nice about injury – something macho, boastful, sort of bravado. All the pain you go through is worthwhile if you have a good story behind it. Who on earth would not like to be in a position to narrate something dramatic like:

“Well, I got this scratch when I dived to take that blinder-of-a-catch. But, I didn’t drop the ball. We won the match because of that catch”

“Nothing serious. Just a sprain. It is an unavoidable part of every athlete’s life”

“I don’t know how that moron got a driver’s license. No doubt he would have bought it. If only I hadn’t been alert, anything could have happened”

“You know, that was a terrible… terrible accident. I was lucky to escape with minor injuries”

“That @#$%^ was a freaking dinosaur. King Kong. All brawn and no brain. My martial arts came handy. These scratches are nothing compared to what I did to him. I am sure he won’t be able to move for at least a week”

“I was just trying to save the kitten which was too scared to get down the tree. It misunderstood me”

But, what happened to me yesterday was nowhere near any of the reasons listed above. There is nothing to be proud of my injuries. I can’t go around proclaiming that I drew latitudes and longitudes on my face while shaving. Of all the things, SHAVING. How depressing. Phew.

May be the new razor was too sharp (Aren’t razors meant to be sharp?). May be, I was thinking about “Kaun” which I had watched earlier. A cut above the upper lip, one in the chin and a third in the base of neck. One more in the left thumb while cleaning the razor.

Shaving ccould end up being as violent and bloody act as anything you can imagine about.

Aishwarya Rai - the global model

This happened a couple of days ago. I was in the middle of my customary morning tour to office (Tour details: From the house, two minutes of walk to Margarethaland tram stop. Maximum waiting time = 10 minutes. Take tram 6 to go to Leidsenhage. Two minutes of walk around the Winkelcentrum to reach the bus stop. Maximum waiting time = 15 minutes. Take bus 39 to reach Damalaan. Walk for 20 – 25 minutes to reach the office in Overgoo). I was in the bus looking outside the window.

“Who is the girl in the billboard? She looks familiar.”

The bus travels some more distance. I saw another billboard with the poster.

“Oh my God. That is Aishwarya Rai!!!”

Posters promoting L’Oreal lipstick are displayed in billboards all over The Hague. The posters have the popular models with their lips emphatically painted and with the caption – “Mijn favoriete lipstick”. Apart from Aishwarya Rai, I was able to identify Letitia Casta and Eva Longoria in similar posters. I have also seen L’Oreal TV commercials with Aishwarya Rai in the Netherlands TV channels. Seems Aishwarya is really getting international. In the past two days, I found Aishwarya’s face all over The Hague.

Four-eyed me

It happened during the late 2000. Probably, the few years of reading in the college-bus had taken its toll. I certainly was not a nerd. My academic scores will prove me true. May be, it was my phobia towards vegetables that diluted my vision. Or, it was because of the Computer and TV screens that I watch all day.

There is no point in investigating the cause. The damage was already done. The reality was – I WAS GETTING FREAKING BLIND. Realization of the defect in my vision was a slow process.

“There it comes. Our bus”
“Oh… Is it ours?”

“Isn’t she cute?”
“Really?”

“Damn the college administration. They have ordered for the inferior markers again. And I am not able to make out what is written on the board”

“Am I seated in a strategically wrong place? With all the reflection, refraction, diffraction and a hell lot of other optical phenomenon around me, I am unable to read what is written on the board”

“The TV is getting old and should be replaced. The text is too blurred. Poor old CRT. It is counting its days”

“How on earth is he able to read the smaller letters in the signboard?”

“What happened to my cricketing skills? Why do I drop too many catches these days? And, why do I nick the ball to the keeper too often?”

“I am okay. I am not weeping. It is the pollution in the air. I guess my eyes are too sensitive to the dust”

“The headache. Oh. Not again…”

But slowly I realized that the problem was with my vision and not with the world around me.

“What are you doing?” The doctor asked.
[What? Am I not just sitting in front of you?]“Mmm… Studying… Computer Science.”
“Oh. The computer guy” he said with a knowing smile “You people sit so near the glowing screen.”
[Come on. Do you really expect me to sit away from the computer screen? Like I watch the TV?]
“Myopia” he said, matter-of-factedly “Would you like to go for the glasses or the contract lenses?”
[Contract lenses? Those flimsy things that need to be place inside my eyelids? Are you kidding?] “I’ll have the glasses”

I got my glasses in a couple of days. The whole world seemed brighter and clearer when I wore them. Originally, I used to wear the glasses only while reading. Gradually my bespectacled period of the day increased. Now I wear them all day except when I sleep.

Den Haag Bibliotheek

Well... well... well. The Hague’s public library (bibliotheek) has got a nice collection of books in various languages! An assortment of fictions, CDs, and above all, comics. Asterix and Obilix, Tintin and a lot more. Now this is going to be interesting. Even the Romain Rolland Library of Pondicherry had good comics. But they were in the children’s section. Those of the age group 6-16 alone were admitted in this section. Phew. What a crappy rule. I was well beyond 16 by the time I decided to visit libraries. Was late as always.

But, most of the comics in the bibliotheek are in Dutch. I have to search really hard to find those few comics in English. That is not going to be a problem. I have all the weekends to ransack the bibliotheek.
Two Tamil roommates, more friends in Antwerpen and Brussels, the unlimited package of the Pathe theaters (bioscoop), two projects to work and the nice bibliotheek. I think it is not going to be a boring stay at The Hague as I imagined.