Hero of our times...1

From his childhood Pappu had been an avid reader of books. He grew up as a rebel. But he lived in an era when the youth had become disillusioned with the ideological vaccum created by the independence era generation. August 15, 1947 had given them high hopes for a better tomorrow. But their hopes were crashed by a corrupt system.

He was a member of neighborhood library and did many plays in the local cultural community. He had started writing at an early age but could never overcome his shyness to publish them.

As expected he did very well in the high school. He did exceptionally well in the language subjects. He went with his father to get admitted to college. Literature was his dream destination. With his marks he could easily secure an admission.

While waiting for an audience with the Principal, his father met his old friend, Ayyappa Panicker. AP had recently got an award for his poems. He was very well known in the literary circles. On learning that he wanted to put his son in literature, AP took Pappu’s father aside. AP explained the difficulties of securing a job with a literature degree. While as science degree had become the trend of the season. It was easy to secure jobs, go for higher studies, go abroad etc. A literature student could become a teacher or professor with much luck and bribes. There is a good chance he will roam around the streets unshaven and hungry.

Any ways his father acted very quickly. Before Pappu could protest, he found himself in a chemistry class.

Chemicals were never his cup of tea. He sat at the back benches reading through the great literary works he got from the library. As long as he was not a bother his teachers didn’t disturb him. He soon grew to be a nuisance, getting into arguments with his teachers. Some of the orthodox teachers lavishly cursed him.

Pappu joined state radio as a presenter. He befriended the literary geniuses, weekly publishers and others of his wavelength. Slowly people started realizing his abilities. He managed to get his first novel published. That was very well received and he won a national award for it.

Encouraged by his friends, he quit his job and started writing scripts for films and then moved to direction.

Pappu grew on to become on the greatest Malayalam director ever. His films became the bench mark for Malayalam industry. Movie buffs, like me, still think of him with pride.

Ladies and gentlemen introducing to you my favorite Malayalam director- Padmarajan. Here you can read one of my first post about him.

Afterword: Whatever the situation you are in, with a bit of hard work and luck, you can reach your destinity

Sad, Bad, Mad, Glad world of Blogs

Take a snapshot of humanity at any point of its evolution, you will see a few individuals standing back and laughing at the society around them. Some may play a proactive role , most of them will not.

This is what I wanted to do when I started the blog a year ago- stand back and laugh. I am too timid to use my real name or picture. Like everyone else I wear a mask around my home, office and friends. I remove that mask when I sit in front of my laptop.

Almost into my 50^th post, I feel this is the best time to make a few observations on a world which pretty much became my own.

Writing and blogging are miles apart. After a few good posts some get the feeling that he/she will make a good writer. The problem lies with poor reading habits. Unless you get a taste of good literary works you will rank yourself very high in writing skills. But yes, there are bloggers who can make good writers. But I have met only a real few.

Blogosphere is not utopia. It’s a very competitive area and the competition is imperfect. ‘Recognition’ is a relative term. Widely, popularity and fame of a blog is judged based on the comments and followers. So what does it take to become a ‘popular’ blogger?

Decision. The toughest question is- What to blog on? From a personal front, my blog was mish mash of everything until I diversified into three. That is the story behind the creation of my photo blog and think blog. It’s important to have a blog specialized on something.

Coming back there are popular topics and ‘who-cares’ ones. Most of the bloggers I have seen are free from any kind of political affiliations and so doesn’t care about any political or social issues. Only thing that possibly hurt them is their relationships. In short words 99.9% of them are metro sexual. So a blogger will gain attention only if he fulfills the norm of their taste buds.

The few bloggers I have met with any political conscious belonged to the right wing- people I love to hate.

Humor blogs and relationships (romance in other word) are the ones in great demand. But since there is a tough competition here, you will find it hard to thrive. But if you have got the ability to lace your posts with sex here and there you are sure shot success. The surprising part is girls are more active than the guys in category (as authors and followers).

Then there are girl just in college who doesn’t get enough people to listen to them. So they put every aspect of their life in blogs. It’s really cute to read them and there are many who find so too. But amazingly many of them stop midway, real reason being they find no more inspiration in blogging.

And I am on my journey to find out some real amazing bloggers with a difference.

Marketing. If you want to be a known blogger it’s really important to market your blog just like everything else in the world. As a first step pick up an eye catching template. The built in templates of blogger is a big time bore (their fonts are worse). Thankfully, there are number of free blog templates for you to pick up from.

I am irritated with templates that gives you an eyesore when you try to read. The girls go for pink ones with lots of flowers. The rebels (with psychological problems) go for outlandish dark colours . I believe a blogger with content just put up a simple template and guys like me browse every week for a new template.

The most important step in marketing is letting people that you have arrived. Non-bloggers doesn’t regularly follow blogs. So get into a community and follow blogs. Comment regularly and you needn’t read through blogs. Just put in some regular words like ‘Good post J’, ‘Awesome’, ‘’ :D’ etc. To be frank I haven’t read any critical comment in most of the posts I have gone through. It is world of hypocrites. Better visit fresh bloggers they will appreciate the fact that you are following them and will do the same in return.

Post blogs only in regular intervals. Never crowd the intervals.

And here comes the main reason for this post. Here are the ones I consider as the best blogs.

1.Crusader: He is one hell of a great blogger. He always keeps the post with in a limited length but never loses the quality in content. He has got an exceptional language too. He lives up to his reputation and rarely comes up with a crap but can be really impulsive at times. I will have to thank him for getting me started and keeping me motivated in my initial days. I have known him from school and he is equally talented in photography too.

2.Just some thoughts: I watched her growing up to a terrific writer/blogger. Her posts used to be raw earlier but still they had a hint of talent hidden. Now she is more refined. But the poor thing gets de-motivated at times because of few commentators/followers. A sweet baby with exceptional abilities.

3.A hint of coffee. I have read many disillusioned posts but never one as good as hers. She will touch your heart with her posts.

4.Chronicwriter: He doesn’t need my recommendation.

5.Colours, shades: He is a typical metro sexual and laces almost all his posts with a wee bit of libidinous entertainers. He has got a huge number of female followers and I have rarely seen a male commenting to his posting. And I think he follows only females (just speculation).

6.Grey Confessions: He writes great stories but haven’t been active for long

7.Tale Weaver: I am proud that I have got him in my followers list. I believe he is a software engineer who ended up in the wrong place. He should have been a writer. He writes great stories.

8,Country gal: You must see her photos to believe.

Goa Chapter 2- The Exodus

Travel arrangements were done and dormitories were booked for our stay. But still there was a silent fog of doubt hanging in my mind.

The person who unwittingly helped me overcome my doubts was a slimy, asshole whom I call my manager. Managers, good or bad, are the most hated creatures in the earth. But the (former) manager of mine goes around with a sticker on his forehead ’Hate Me’. Just days before the trip our performance appraisal came and the sycophants went away with great grades while I found myself in a swamp.

Some people chase dreams set out by others all their lives. But at the end of day they realise what they were chasing was just a mirage. I want to set my own goals. I want to have dreams, which I can call my own, I had to make this journey.

So as I boarded the train I had this feeling of escaping from getting suffocated. Travelling in Indian trains are usually eventful. You walk across the aisle and you will meet the cross section of Indian culture. The first prayer a single Indian will have before he boards the train is to get a hot woman as the companion. But this time we got an elderly couple travelling with us.

As soon as she got into the train she opened a box secretly and looked around. After making sure that no one is watching she quickly placed something in her mouth. I started feeling uneasy, ‘What could that be? She looks frail. But that doesn’t make her innocent. Should I call the police?’ Thankfully my brain cells worked although a bit slowly. It was just her false teeth.

As the journey went on, the old man opened up. They were Goans on a pilgrimage to temples all over India. We Indians have a firm belief that we will face the consequences of our deeds this life or the next. So it has been a practice among Indians to go on a pilgrimage after retirement, to escape the eternal damnation. That is one of the reasons why Indians make poor tourists. But thankfully the average age of Indian travelers has been coming down.

The best train to travel around in India is ‘Rajdhani’. The train is wholly air-conditioned and the staff treats you royally with blankets, food and extra food (if you tip them liberally). The interior is very clean. And the ticket fare is not unaffordable too. That could be the reason why Rajdhani is a preferred train today. Indian railways are run by real efficient businessmen.

Out of 6, three were supposed to reach earlier than us. The mode of transport in Goa was something we broke our heads up on. We had to choose between bike and car. Thankfully good senses prevailed. We chose a car. Unless you are sun hardened travelers the hot sun of Goa can wear you down in a few hours. Traveliing around in bike can be adventurous and macho. I would recommend that for professional tourists. But that is not the mode for soft travelers like us.

Accommodation was something we had no difference of opinion in. We had been to Goa while we were in college. While we chose the same old hostel again it was a walk down the memory lane. Those were the days when we had no money with us. Many a times we went hungry. Today we have got enough money with us. But we miss the good old days. That is something we learnt in two years, money doesn’t complete the jigsaw of life.

Well watch out for the Goa I saw in the next episode!

For the first installment of Goa

For my Goa Pics

Goa Chapter One: The Genesis

Past few days had been uninterrupted fun, frolic and travel. My body needs some rest. Blogging is the best form of rest- body and mind.

Within a few days I will have to get into regular grind of life. Goa will start fading into a distant dream from past.

Goa gave me a lot more than expected. It felt like turning more than one pages of life together. I will turn the chapters one by one.

From the moment plans were announced about Goa, I had doubts about its practicality. In reality self doubt is becoming my enemy no.1. Thanks to enthusiastic friends (former college mates) of mine everything became a reality.

Then there is a universal power that leads us to our destinies. I believe the power had something to do with smooth functioning of things. There was an old man with us in the train. He described a bomb blast in a train that happened some years ago. The conversation sent shudders through my spine. What if it happened to us? We are just toys in the hands of fate.

The friends of mine did a good deal of research for this journey. That’s some difference between Indian tourists and their western counterparts. Indians prefer a packaged trip. They pay a huge sum to some hotel. The hotelier plans the entire trip for the customer. Our Indian goes where his hotelier leads him with a hot wife and cute kid hanging on. It’s one of the best way to make money (for the hotelier) and worst way for vacation(Indian).

So thanks to my mates, we had a good idea on where to go and how to end up there. There were minor differences in opinions. We had to wait till the last minute to iron them out.

The rule no.1 was to carry as little luggage as possible. I had this problem of carrying a huge one wherever I go. The advantage is I will get to wear a clean shirt every 6 hours. But huge luggage is trouble if you have to carry it for long. Besides if your fellow mates are bachelors what’s the big deal about clean shirts. If you have to carry a family/girlfriend along then clean shirts do matter. Thanks to Big Bazaar I managed to get a cargo for bargain price.

Three T-shirts and a single cargo for 3 days in Goa and of course my precious camera, this made up my luggage.

Needless to say the colour and smell of clothes were beyond description by the time I returned. Thanks to my friends for putting up with me.


PS: For pics please log on to Jonpics

Wings On Fire.... Happy b'day Kalaam

This is for one of the most trouble-less, innocent guy you would have ever met. Wherever he goes he becomes ‘the talk’. Had you met him you would have said the same.
Ladies and gentlemen, introducing you to Kalaam. He is not the famous scientist, APJ or the politician, Maulana. He is our own Kalaam.
His sister has been pestering everyone for a write up for some time. I am going to pay him a tribute in my own way.

You might have developed the picture of tall, handsome, muscular guy. But he is none among the three. He is just an average guy next door. He is a kind of Jughead, and doesn’t give a damn about girls. I believe the two women he admires is his sis and mom.

Kalaam
I had the privilege to get to know him from my school days. Back then I went for early morning tuitions. It was supposedly the time your mind was free from evil thoughts. The class would have been dozing off silently when the serenity would be broken by a goat bleat. It would have been normal but the bleat sounded something like, ‘Sir, May I come in’. The class would burst out laughing. That’s how Kalaam unwittingly spiced up the procedures.

During those days he was given the name ‘odichu kuthi’. The huge bag he carried on his back would bend him perpendericular.
My fate decreed that I would study with him for another four years. In fact I was quite surprised to meet him again at the college. We were just formal friends till then. The next four years became a Kalaam-Reloaded.

Kalaam-Reloaded
Kalaam’s favorite weakness was gaming. He used to sit up entire night online gaming and then went to bed in the classroom while lectures were raging on. In fact he was the darling of every teacher as he caused little trouble. I am going to narrate out some of the great incidents we witnessed:

Our class was the epicenter of many troubles, trouble makers and fights. Every quarrel would turn out nasty and someone would get hurt real bad. Once during such an incident all the teachers went to the Head of Department threatening to boycott our class. Our Head of Department was in a dilemma. If he picked out anyone in particular, he would be accused of partiality thus aggravating the situation. He looked around and picked up Kalaam by the collar, ‘So you are the troublemaker, huh?’ it turned out to be a clever strategy as teachers fought together to prove Kalaam’s innocence. The case was dissolved.

Kalaam taught us every problems could be solved in a peaceful and non-violent way. Once an unpleasant strike turned violent. Few skulls were broken and police were called in to the campus. The police threw us out hurling at us the choicest of expletives. Students stood outside the campus, knees knocking in fear. To everyone’s surprise Kalaam went to the pot-bellied policeman with a huge moustache standing at the gate and said ‘Uncle uncle can I take my car from inside. Uncle, please uncle please’. The policeman must have been taken back by the ‘Uncle’. Kalaam was the only one to get his vehicle out.

Another one of Kalaam’s passion was Japanese anime with the name ‘Manga’. In fact he learnt to speak Japanese very well. Everyone would make fun of his Manga craze. But many, including me, started watching Manga after he persuaded us to watch some trial episodes. Some of the series that became a hit among us were the ‘Death note’ and ‘Kensin Himurai’

Kalaam was not as innocent as he seemed to be. He had an anime porn collection too. Believe me guys, it’s a fabulous stuff that can stretch your imagination.
Kalaam is very much shy of girls. Once Kalaam’s sister’s friends came for a visit. Kalaam was peacefully watching the anime porn upstairs. He heard them coming up and ran away without closing the porn window. The girls came and saw the porn running and it was bit too farfetched for their innocent imagination. A few of them fainted and the other few vomited all over the floor.

Kalaam’s reputation wasn’t confined to Gaming and Manga alone. He was an expert at race driving his Premier Padmini and later the Maruthi 800. The reality is he was rather inept in driving slowly and surprisingly wasn’t involved in any accidents either. He drove the car in the way Messi dribbled his football. The potholes and other vehicles became the opposite team when he severed the car and did the semicircular curves. For us NFS became more than a game while driving with him. Another weakness of his was indulging in animated discussions while driving. He used to indulge in thoughts and conversations taking both his hand off the steering wheel and at the same time foot pressed firmly on the accelerator. It was the duty of the person riding with him to hold the wheel at those moments.

Kalaam was brilliant but never bothered to study. As a result he ended up with many back papers while most of us finished our graduation. Most of us moved to different parts of India for higher studies, job searching, working etc. Like all good things in life the friend’s gang broke apart. Kalaam ended alone in his home. He plunged more and more into gaming. I remember going to his home in the mornings to see him sleeping on the floor in front of his PC. He used to get up for 20 minute breaks to chat with his partners online on the strategy and go back to sleep.

One fine morning he got the enlightenment. I believe it has got something to do with the gaming server crash down. He stopped gaming all of a sudden. All the back papers were cleared together in one go. He cut down the manga also to some extent. Thus began the era of Kalaam revolutions.

Kalaam Revolutions
Kalaam enrolled into a JAVA course at a premier institute. He was damn good with the computer stuff. The uncertainty prevailed even after the course, so he enrolled for the next one. Kalaam finished up all the courses in the institute one by one.

Kalaam was not at all interested in earning a living. His dad had found a job for him in a factory. But he was too bored for the paperwork.

The principal of the institute called him up and told that they had nothing left to offer him; would he consider taking up position as a faculty member? Kalaam ran away from there. By then he had already become ‘The Master in Computer’. Although Kalaam was well qualified than anyone else to do an IT job, he simply hadn’t grown up to do it.
That’s when his cousin in Bangalore asked him to go there for a networking course. So Kalam set out for the great Metro. Staying away from home did wonders to his character. The next time we saw Kalaam he had started combing his hair and the sandals made way for NIKE.

But Kalaam continued to woo people in Bnagalore too. They started a blog in his honour. Here goes one of his famous stories:
He was on a train to visit some cousin of his. Mistakes happens to genius but they turn around situations to make the mistake look real genius idea. He learnt from a fellow passenger that the train doesn’t stop at the place where his cousin stays but the next station which is just a few kilometers away. Kalam didn’t stop to think. He took out his baggage and jumped out of the moving train. If you are thinking how brilliant the idea was, wait till you hear the rest of the story. Kalaam was suffering from pain all over. He went out and took an X-ray of his body. We ordinary mortals would have gone to a doctor. But he hated doctors with big syringes and knives. Kalaam and went out and googled for the X-ray of a normal man. He self diagnosed that he was quite okay and there was no need for a surgery or plaster. He just has a side effect he can’t raise his arm much. But genius has to make ultimate sacrifices for the sake of humanity.

Kalaam is a teetotaller. He has never known what a ciggarette is nevertheless abeer. But one day his friends in Bangalore persuaded him to drink a bit of beer. Poor Kalaam took a sip. It was too much for him to bear. He called up his Mom and confessed with tears all the eveil things he had committed.

Time flew by and Kalaam wasn’t still willing to work until his dad decreed that his allowances will be stopped within a month. And within a few weeks we were surprised to see a tie-clad , hair trimmed, full sleeved Kalaam in Technopark.
He is a famous Network Engineer in Kerala today.

If you think Kalaam has changed, I would say, ‘not much’. He demonstrated that when he was shifting out of Bangalore. He set out from Trivandrum to Bangalore to fetch his things. And he came back with just his PC.

Time for wind-up from me... Long live Kalaam!!!

Happy B'day

This is from my friend Vattu
Wishing you a very Happy b’day!!!de, plse pass this on... "at 14 u made yourself appear in doordarshan in the very famous anti-porn documentary(featuring in and as a victim of porn), at 18 u convinced anusri(a sexy gal in our batch) to be your partner(badminton mixed doubles), now you are 25, and its 7 years since your last magic... so i'm waiting for one (sumthing else which is less tragic than jumping from trains or over bridges and doing a self diagnosis), dont delay it..."
Long Live Kalaam.

The Rich, The Poor, The betweens....The India

India is a land of myths and magics. You would surely think if anyone still belives in those in the 21st century. Yes, the myths and magic is still there. With the only difference that our ruling class are the greatest magicians.

One of the greatest myths of the last year was India is the country least affected by global recession. None of our multimillion companies closed down. No massive firing took place. Everyone continued working may be with some small pay cuts in their huge pay slips.
Now the companies started their recruitments once again. Markets have gone up. Everything looks rosy again.

I came to the office this morning to see this clipping.
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/No-financial-crisis-impact-Indias-poor-grew-by-34-mn/articleshow/5553859.cms
I hate Times of India and read it only when I need a sexual boost. But this thing seems more than authentic.

According to United Nations Department for Economic and Social Affairs the number of poor in India had gone up by 34 million during the 2009

But as long as our Ambanis , Subratas and Premjis stay rich, I don’t think we have a reason to panic, do we? Everything is fine as long as they stay in Forbe’s list.
I don’t think our upper middle class is affected too. Since they generate most of the taxes and form up bulk of the customers for media, government and media has to keep them happy always. No questions about that.
So who cares about the poor who has to eat junk because of the rising food prices? The good thing about the number of jobless going up is we can use them for menial job s that too for low wages. The slight irritation is they might turn to crime and violence. But we have a strong police force to handle them, don’t we?
So let’s sell up our PSUs to the rich so that they can increase the prices of essential commodities and make it profitable. Yes, profits matter more than anything else- be it private or public.
Let’s relocate the poor from their farmlands and build industries and IT parks (or else TATAs cannot come up with their cheap cars that resemble autorikshaws). Let’s sell of our fresh water and use Pepsi and Colas.
Let’s start reading the crap books of crap authors. Let’s watch crap movies of Khans and Kapoors. Let’s use everything branded.

Let’s make India prosperous….

Redemption

One of the essentials our magazines or tabloids can’t do without is the daily sex columns. Every day you get a daily dose from experts who generously advice you in how to transform yourself into a sex toy that give your partner 24x7 pleasure.
Well there are different ways people try to make out meaning of their miserable lives. Some does it through (physical) pleasure. Some redeems through their hobbies , passion or work. Redemption is the ultimate aim any man has got. Religions and demi gods claim redemption through good works or beliefs.
I seek my redemption in my childhood. I am going to walk 20 years back, into the village where I spent my childhood. Days were filled with flowers and butterflies. There were no worries about where I was going to end up in future.
Bad guys were only seen in movies.
The paddy fields and harvest is a fast dying breed in Kerala today. The only places you see them are in television.
Walking to the church every Sunday through these fields studded with golden crown was glorious. Even half of the proceedings going on in the church were not understood. But still I had to go to escape the eternal damnation in hell. We did all kinds of mischief when the service was going on. An old man would silently come up behind and pinch us, as a painful remainder. The mischief came to a temporary halt only to restart soon after.
After harvests the empty fields turned into cricket and football grounds. Football was played bare foot. Cricket bat was cut of coconut branches and cheap balls were used. I was too young to join and could only look on in wonderment.
The schools were not competitive at all. I don’t remember feeling the tensions of exams anytime in life. But the good thing was we had the opportunities to learn more from outside the school than inside. The playgrounds were the hot spots. We made maximum use of it. Apart from games there were fights with children from neighboring classes, schools and I don’t remember any teacher raising a fuss about it. And there was this open loo for girls and boys (we were too innocent to take a peek).
There was a stream running behind our backyard. It used to go dry in extreme summer and flood on heavy rains. During the floods all kinds of unusual people like tortoises and crabs came for a visit.
And there used to be two kids in our neighborhood. They had a VCR and got the Tom and Jerry cartoons from their relatives abroad. Rarely did we get a privilege to watch the Tom and Jerry videos. After many years I got a chance to see the brother and sister pair again. The sister has become a lot more sexy. I heard brother became a useless kid in the neighborhood. Yes, even the good old country side has become corrupted.

But in these concrete jungles I will dream about my childhood.