More arbit ramblings
This post is being published long after it has been written. The reason for that is that I have been off the internet for about three weeks.
A strong disinclination to work, coupled with accumulated leaves over the past two years prompted me to have a discussion with my manager at work, requesting him for leave. The poor guy was at the end of his tether, having to endure repeated complaints from the company's internet resource manager, regarding how his team (comprising of three people) was hogging half the available bandwidth for the entire firm, with the remaining 2997 people struggling to rely on the other half of the available bandwidth, but not noticing the slow connection, for some inexplicable reason.
My manager was more than happy to let me go temporarily. A request for a long leave is usually followed by a discussion regarding why it needs to be taken, and negotiations regarding the actual duration, with requests for coming back earlier than planned and all that. Once this is done, the employee is sent an approval mail via the intranet, confirming the granting of his leave of absence.
Imagine my surprise when I got a confirmation mail sans the discussion, as soon as I applied for the leave. iGod really worked wonders when I prayed to Him.
So, here I am, blissfully at home, chilling away for three whole weeks, rediscovering the joys of doing absolutely nothing except laze around all day at home, take my dog out for walks, go on bike rides on the Mysore ring road and call up friends who work at Infosys here and insult them for working, hanging out in the evenings drinking masala chai at the local chai shop with friends and reading lots of books and watching a whole lot of movies. Peace and tranquility.
Blogging and LJing has consequently taken a backseat, as is imaginable under such idyllic circumstances. However, there have been certain funny events that have transpired that do deserve mentioning.
A small number of people that have been accustomed to seeing me in Mysore only on the weekends have been surprised at my presence in the city even on weekdays, prompting me to come up with nice tales to explain my situation.
'I decided that two years in the IT industry was two years too much, and so I have decided to quit my job! I am going to burn up my savings and in the meantime decide what needs to be done about my life. Once you start working, you should try it some time.'
OR
'I was thrown out of my job for talking loudly in my native language, which apparently has words that sound like really bad cuss words in quite a few other languages. I was actually having a nice and polite conversation with a cousin of mine, congratulating him on his graduation, though the people at the office mistook it for something grossly impolite, to put it very politely.'
and so on and so forth, the tales becoming taller with practise.
Quite a joy it has been, spinning a yarn, especially to someone who pretends to be as gullible as I pretend to be callous with earning my daily bread.
The long leave from work has also resulted in me being able to watch a lot more TV, and I take this opportunity to thank God for cable TV, yet again, for the gazillionth time.
(sung to the tune of some vague Abba song)
A lot of exciting things are happening on TV. Jennifer Love Hewitt is being featured on a TV series on Star World. Some Ghost Chaser or Dream Chaser or Ghost Catcher or something. I don't fricking remember the name of that stupid TV series. I can actually watch it in mute, she's so darn cute. (What a time to come up with a rhyme!) Following the plot of whatever TV series she stars in is akin to purchasing a Penthouse for the articles.
Incidentally, Penthouse plans to go public. Google for the relevant information. Now one can combine passions for pornography, coupled with learning about the vagaries of the stock market with this recent happening.
Also, the Asian edition of 'the Amazing Race 'is being shown on AXN. Bond movies shown on weekdays at 9 PM on Star Movies.
In short, TV hasn't looked better, though there is one thing that has taken place that has disappointed each and every single TV viewer in the subcontinent. The most sorely disappointed ones are the Lesbians and the straight males, for them having had to repeatedly endure one after another crushing blow to their libidos.
As a kid just in his teens, I, along with a lot of other nocturnal kids of my time, had the good fortune of watching tittilating stuff late at night on Star Movies (those movies rated 18, that have now become an extinct species), that added an extra dimension to my education, if you know what I mean.
A directive from the government banned topless and other supposedly 'vulgar' displays of skin on TV, without any regard or respect whatsoever for the filmmaker's art. Hence timeless classics such as 'Stripped to Kill' and 'Sex, Lies and Videotape' and 'Snapdragon' had to undergo the abject humiliation of being subjected to scenes being cut and the most vital details being pixellated, just so the old fogeys that made the rules could take comfort in the fact that they were sadistically torturing red-blooded teenagers who just wanted to learn.
A new breath of fresh air was induced when Michel Adam (the creator/founder, iGod bless his soul) brought Fashion TV to India. Creating ripples with its diamond-shaped logo that kept spinning all the time (a fact I noticed ONE YEAR after I started watching FTV), it was a boon to all those that were still singing dirges in the dark, for not being able to watch quality movies late at night.
Sure, there was no plot and no dialogues, but the junta of the subcontinent was now beyond caring, and would settle for quality stuff regardless. Models with wonderfully low IQ, as was evident from the 'like' counters shooting through the roof everytime they, like, opened their, like, mouths, were a joy to watch as they set the ramp on fire with their brilliant outfits, or the apparent lack thereof, though nobody was complaining for a really long time.
The Brazil carnival, the 'Midnight Hot' series and the swimwear segments were among the most eagerly awaited ones, not just for the fact that the cameraperson was reading the viewer's thoughts and moving his instrument accordingly, but also because efficient resource management could be learnt from the efforts of the talented fashion designers, who could use enough materials from three pairs of jeans to clothe an entire batallion of models.
Ahh, how educative that proved to be, I say!
The joy that FTV brought to our lives was also to be short-lived, as women's organizations all over the country were up in arms about 'women's exploitation' and all that jazz. Being myopic enough to not realize that the models were doing all of it voluntarily, and that our not watching FTV would only make Michel Adam buy one less private jet, angry protests were lodged by conservative people all over the country.
Poor old Vatsyayana and all those highly skilled Khajurao temple artists would be turning in their graves, had they been buried, at the state of affairs, many centuries after they instigated the sexual revolution in the very nation that now is taking pains to quell it.
Contrast this with Danish national TV, where hardcore porn is shown after 12 in the night, I kid you not. I shall repeat it for effect - Danish National Television screens hardcore pornography after 12 in the night. I am very certain I have mentioned this fact in an earlier post, but the Danish embassy has apparently not yet received enough applications from us brown people to migrate there to take care of most the jobs that the lazy Danes are not inclined to do. Hence the very subtle repetition. *Hint*
All of them Danes have taken to cartooning, with special emphasis being laid on sketching what shouldn't be caricatured, the holier the figure, the greater the urge to sketch.
Back to Swades, the last nail in the coffin of the average Indian's libido was the Indianization of FTV. Sushma Swaraj or Uma Bharati or someone equally unattractive protested that they would shave their heads and wear F1 jumpsuits if FTV continued this 'blatant exploitation of women'.
Scared at the prospect of such a thing happening, FTV has now come out with a dedicated Indian channel, FTV India. Just like MacDonalds, Pizza Hut and everyone else that descended into out country, post-liberalization of the Indian economy, with the intent of making us eat the same shit they eat all over the world, but having to change track and Indianize their menus to accommodate the average Indian's huge appetite and small wallet, FTV also had to sell out.
Those with enough foresight to tape the most wonderful parts of FTV are the ones that have been most rewarded and blessed by the iGod. The rest of us have had to suffer the indignity of watching 'Lakme India Fashion Week' under the 'Midnight Hot' section. Having tuned in with the fervent hope of watching skimpily clad models in revealing lingerie, one is subjected to the dismal clothing 'style' of our desi designers.
Take your pic - Rohit Bal or Abu Jani/Manoviraj Khosla's creations v/s Pirelli swimsuit archives or Victoria's secret shows, which one would you rather watch? Aunty, I betcha even you'd pick the latter, eh ;)
iGod helps those who help themselves to a good dress sense. Some wonderful things are better left unchanged.
A strong disinclination to work, coupled with accumulated leaves over the past two years prompted me to have a discussion with my manager at work, requesting him for leave. The poor guy was at the end of his tether, having to endure repeated complaints from the company's internet resource manager, regarding how his team (comprising of three people) was hogging half the available bandwidth for the entire firm, with the remaining 2997 people struggling to rely on the other half of the available bandwidth, but not noticing the slow connection, for some inexplicable reason.
My manager was more than happy to let me go temporarily. A request for a long leave is usually followed by a discussion regarding why it needs to be taken, and negotiations regarding the actual duration, with requests for coming back earlier than planned and all that. Once this is done, the employee is sent an approval mail via the intranet, confirming the granting of his leave of absence.
Imagine my surprise when I got a confirmation mail sans the discussion, as soon as I applied for the leave. iGod really worked wonders when I prayed to Him.
So, here I am, blissfully at home, chilling away for three whole weeks, rediscovering the joys of doing absolutely nothing except laze around all day at home, take my dog out for walks, go on bike rides on the Mysore ring road and call up friends who work at Infosys here and insult them for working, hanging out in the evenings drinking masala chai at the local chai shop with friends and reading lots of books and watching a whole lot of movies. Peace and tranquility.
Blogging and LJing has consequently taken a backseat, as is imaginable under such idyllic circumstances. However, there have been certain funny events that have transpired that do deserve mentioning.
A small number of people that have been accustomed to seeing me in Mysore only on the weekends have been surprised at my presence in the city even on weekdays, prompting me to come up with nice tales to explain my situation.
'I decided that two years in the IT industry was two years too much, and so I have decided to quit my job! I am going to burn up my savings and in the meantime decide what needs to be done about my life. Once you start working, you should try it some time.'
OR
'I was thrown out of my job for talking loudly in my native language, which apparently has words that sound like really bad cuss words in quite a few other languages. I was actually having a nice and polite conversation with a cousin of mine, congratulating him on his graduation, though the people at the office mistook it for something grossly impolite, to put it very politely.'
and so on and so forth, the tales becoming taller with practise.
Quite a joy it has been, spinning a yarn, especially to someone who pretends to be as gullible as I pretend to be callous with earning my daily bread.
The long leave from work has also resulted in me being able to watch a lot more TV, and I take this opportunity to thank God for cable TV, yet again, for the gazillionth time.
Thank You for the channels,
All the crap we're seeing.
Thanks for all the thrills
reality TV is bringing
Who can live without it,
I ask in all honesty.
What would life be?
Without Cable TV what are we?
All the crap we're seeing.
Thanks for all the thrills
reality TV is bringing
Who can live without it,
I ask in all honesty.
What would life be?
Without Cable TV what are we?
(sung to the tune of some vague Abba song)
A lot of exciting things are happening on TV. Jennifer Love Hewitt is being featured on a TV series on Star World. Some Ghost Chaser or Dream Chaser or Ghost Catcher or something. I don't fricking remember the name of that stupid TV series. I can actually watch it in mute, she's so darn cute. (What a time to come up with a rhyme!) Following the plot of whatever TV series she stars in is akin to purchasing a Penthouse for the articles.
Incidentally, Penthouse plans to go public. Google for the relevant information. Now one can combine passions for pornography, coupled with learning about the vagaries of the stock market with this recent happening.
Also, the Asian edition of 'the Amazing Race 'is being shown on AXN. Bond movies shown on weekdays at 9 PM on Star Movies.
In short, TV hasn't looked better, though there is one thing that has taken place that has disappointed each and every single TV viewer in the subcontinent. The most sorely disappointed ones are the Lesbians and the straight males, for them having had to repeatedly endure one after another crushing blow to their libidos.
As a kid just in his teens, I, along with a lot of other nocturnal kids of my time, had the good fortune of watching tittilating stuff late at night on Star Movies (those movies rated 18, that have now become an extinct species), that added an extra dimension to my education, if you know what I mean.
A directive from the government banned topless and other supposedly 'vulgar' displays of skin on TV, without any regard or respect whatsoever for the filmmaker's art. Hence timeless classics such as 'Stripped to Kill' and 'Sex, Lies and Videotape' and 'Snapdragon' had to undergo the abject humiliation of being subjected to scenes being cut and the most vital details being pixellated, just so the old fogeys that made the rules could take comfort in the fact that they were sadistically torturing red-blooded teenagers who just wanted to learn.
A new breath of fresh air was induced when Michel Adam (the creator/founder, iGod bless his soul) brought Fashion TV to India. Creating ripples with its diamond-shaped logo that kept spinning all the time (a fact I noticed ONE YEAR after I started watching FTV), it was a boon to all those that were still singing dirges in the dark, for not being able to watch quality movies late at night.
Sure, there was no plot and no dialogues, but the junta of the subcontinent was now beyond caring, and would settle for quality stuff regardless. Models with wonderfully low IQ, as was evident from the 'like' counters shooting through the roof everytime they, like, opened their, like, mouths, were a joy to watch as they set the ramp on fire with their brilliant outfits, or the apparent lack thereof, though nobody was complaining for a really long time.
The Brazil carnival, the 'Midnight Hot' series and the swimwear segments were among the most eagerly awaited ones, not just for the fact that the cameraperson was reading the viewer's thoughts and moving his instrument accordingly, but also because efficient resource management could be learnt from the efforts of the talented fashion designers, who could use enough materials from three pairs of jeans to clothe an entire batallion of models.
Ahh, how educative that proved to be, I say!
The joy that FTV brought to our lives was also to be short-lived, as women's organizations all over the country were up in arms about 'women's exploitation' and all that jazz. Being myopic enough to not realize that the models were doing all of it voluntarily, and that our not watching FTV would only make Michel Adam buy one less private jet, angry protests were lodged by conservative people all over the country.
Poor old Vatsyayana and all those highly skilled Khajurao temple artists would be turning in their graves, had they been buried, at the state of affairs, many centuries after they instigated the sexual revolution in the very nation that now is taking pains to quell it.
Contrast this with Danish national TV, where hardcore porn is shown after 12 in the night, I kid you not. I shall repeat it for effect - Danish National Television screens hardcore pornography after 12 in the night. I am very certain I have mentioned this fact in an earlier post, but the Danish embassy has apparently not yet received enough applications from us brown people to migrate there to take care of most the jobs that the lazy Danes are not inclined to do. Hence the very subtle repetition. *Hint*
All of them Danes have taken to cartooning, with special emphasis being laid on sketching what shouldn't be caricatured, the holier the figure, the greater the urge to sketch.
Back to Swades, the last nail in the coffin of the average Indian's libido was the Indianization of FTV. Sushma Swaraj or Uma Bharati or someone equally unattractive protested that they would shave their heads and wear F1 jumpsuits if FTV continued this 'blatant exploitation of women'.
Scared at the prospect of such a thing happening, FTV has now come out with a dedicated Indian channel, FTV India. Just like MacDonalds, Pizza Hut and everyone else that descended into out country, post-liberalization of the Indian economy, with the intent of making us eat the same shit they eat all over the world, but having to change track and Indianize their menus to accommodate the average Indian's huge appetite and small wallet, FTV also had to sell out.
Those with enough foresight to tape the most wonderful parts of FTV are the ones that have been most rewarded and blessed by the iGod. The rest of us have had to suffer the indignity of watching 'Lakme India Fashion Week' under the 'Midnight Hot' section. Having tuned in with the fervent hope of watching skimpily clad models in revealing lingerie, one is subjected to the dismal clothing 'style' of our desi designers.
Take your pic - Rohit Bal or Abu Jani/Manoviraj Khosla's creations v/s Pirelli swimsuit archives or Victoria's secret shows, which one would you rather watch? Aunty, I betcha even you'd pick the latter, eh ;)
iGod helps those who help themselves to a good dress sense. Some wonderful things are better left unchanged.
posted by Hari Shenoy @ 1:17 AM
6 Comments
