L.A.S.E.R (Life As a Software EngineeR)

My job involves:

- Sendin useless mails to wierd ppl, with a billion ppl in CC
- doing a bulk 'mark as read' once i have 50 unread mails.
- long and mind numbing meetings about stuff i don't understand.

- Handling crisis custom made to make life a hell
- Browsing and wastin time in general

My Skillset:

- Delegating work...
- Askin so many clarifications that the person who delegated work to me felt he was better of doing the work himself.
- Takin frequent sick leaves.
- Finding proxies to open emails.
- Playing flash games

- Pulling pranks on my co-workers.

- Drinking 4 mugs of coffee per day.

Future Plans:

- Nothin :-|

who said there is no learning in software industry?

Kalyani

I prayed it should not be.. I had hopes that it wont be.. It could have been but it should have been later.. But it had....

Kalyani was our neighbour. When I was 7, we moved to southern part of Salem. South Salem is really calm and quiet. Its dotted with gardens and the rare peepal tree that you can come across.Mostly I used to go to a garden after my school hours to play. The game will continue till the evening sun makes way and a curtain of darkness is pulled by the night. Soaked with dust, I used to go back to my house. Kalyani never came for playing.

I saw Kalyani last week. As you know, I take off weekends to learn about myself. In this software job, thats the only time where you can find something meaningful. 

The long walk to the hospital had made my legs pain. Note that, I preferred to walk rather than to drive so that I could think about myself. I buy time out of the world. 

Kalyani yelled "Ah, Japan. You have come at last. " as she saw me.

No one calls me 'Japan' but for Kalyani. I remember she christened me with that name when I was 10. I had/ have a small nose and tough hairstyle which makes me japanese look-alike. I didnt like the name then. I have a weird reason for that. It sounded like 'chappani' which translates to 'dumb guy' in Tamil. But she kept calling me 'Japan' [spelt as 'Chapan']. It was irritating. I had slapped her once and had thrashed her with my school belt one more time in connection with this issue.

Last week when she pronounced 'Japan' correctly,I was surprised. She wont give up things easily. . 

"You havent got me anything during this visit.?" she asked.

"Ya. I have. will give you later" I said.

Again this was her childhood habit. She always looks for some new things to be brought in every meeting. If you dont take any gift, she will speak with a disappointment in her voice. But that will only be for a couple of minutes. I used to wonder how a small gift can make this girl`s world so bright. 

"What have you brought.?" she asked.

"I wont tell you"

Regular chemotherapy had made her bald. Cruel. She had hair that was jet black before getting this cancer. She was looking like a 80 year old. She was just 26. And she had knocked the gates of heaven 5 times already. Life is a cruel design.

"Tell me what have you brought" She ordered and then broke to a chain of cough.

I dont want to describe Kalyani in this part of her life. She was beautiful for me, no matter what people claim for the definition of beauty.

"Something special and its suspense" I said.

I never thought that a person like Kalyani could die so young. Yesterday she died. I got a SMS from her brother about the same!

After that, I walked all the way to hospital. 

During my walk,I thought about the fitting present that I gave her a week back. I will miss her.

One hell of a man

I am writing this blog sitting in a TNSTC bus. I am on my way to Chennai . But this should not stop me from writing about Vidyut sir. I have seen umpteen number of numb posts in various blogs in which people revere their role models. I am afraid that this post on Vidyut sir should not create a 'one-more-blind-praise' kind of a sense. One of the greatest virtues that I learnt from my Vidyut is to disrepect the venerable. Thrash the so-called 'established' ideas.

He had a Lambretta scooter.. a spanish guitar in living room. He reads Mir publication books and normally smokes in the terrace. I had some of the most important lessons in life and science in that little terrace. I dont want to make a statements like 'I owe him a lot' 'He showed me the way'. Certainly, he would not like me to write such things in my blog or diary or whatever. He told that there is a door and that I should apply some force to open the door. I opened it and I saw the world. 

I met him when I was 20. I joined the college and I took a single room avoiding the hostel. Vidyut stayed in the room nearby. He was a lecturer in Physics department. I was doing BSc Zoology by the way. He was 10 years elder to me and  a divorcee. I never have asked him wheather he has kids or some mundane questions like 'How do you kill loneliness?' . I had always thought that his days were worth more than 24 hours .

'Life should go on' He would say lighting a kings cigarette. And as the smoke engulfs his face he would furthur say Richard Bach`s take on Life. The illusions.

I once read his diary. It was a shameful act. But I could not resist myself from getting to know on what goes in backgroundof Vidyut. It is just a breathtaking note of a practical individual. 

I once asked him about relations on earth.. It was those days when I had a crush with someone in my college. He said that if you believe that the relation will work out then there is no point in hesitating. I had not got introduced to that girl before. The next day, I said 'Hi'  to her. She is now in US doing masters. I usually meet her in g-talk and our conversation  normally starts with the usual 'Hi'. In was just of few chats in our college canteen, I got to know that its just a crush and then the wonderful episode of friendship blossomed.

I left my college jobless. It was a cruel phase where reality hit a harsh blow on me. Vidyut never cared about me being jobless. I read Bach and Capra during daytime and in nights I used to go to terrace to see the constellations. We used to go for a late night tea in my motorbike. (I had a IND-Suzuki then).  All he gave me those days were some puffs of cigarette and the freedom to take any books from library.

What is big reason for me to write this long post sitting in a bus,  Where already a thousand eyes have peeped into my laptop screen looking into what I am doing.

This Vidyut is getting remarried. One hell of man he is.

Mr.Mani and Me

We can easily get a cycle for rent if we go with a reco and a SOP (statement of purpose). Mr.Mani is kind enough in that aspect. Despite being a owner of a cycle-rental, he is a part time musician (plays thavil) and a amateur story writer. He has become a part of my daily routine. Palani is too small a town for cycling, but I had to get a rented cycle to go to my office. No distance factor involved here. I should park my cycle infront of my office and walk briskly towards the entrance. Well, that gives me the feel of a employed graduate. 

Next month I am applying for SWF loan and I plan to buy the recently launched TVS50 moped. It will save the rent that I give to my dear Mr.Mani. And I should apply for a LPG connection and then I should get a stove also.

"Sir, Why not you choose writing as a profession? Anyway you are writing well" asks Mr.Mani.

I get him a tea and a gold filter. 

"Well thats fine.. Do you know where can I buy a Television..? I cannot pay it at one shot.. So tell me a place where can a have a good EMI" I ask him.

And then that day when we shared a smoke below the peepal tree... "Sir, I read your short story on Lankan tamils.. Superb sir.. Where do you such wonderful ideas sir..? " He asked.

" I got a TV.. It at 0% interest EMI" I was telling him.

Mr.Mani once wrote a long short-story and gave me. He asked for my opinion. I remember I saw that bunch of papers again when I vacated my house from Palani. I had ruined a tamil literary scholar right at his budding stage. 

" Sir.. I will say you where can you get a good deal for housing loan.. But before that tell me your opinions on short story which came in Vikatan written by Sujatha.. ? Awesome na.." He muttered.

"Well.. I have not read it so far" I said.

Now here.. I am sitting as a 60 year old.. The literary 'me' has already died and was cremated with honours. My literary boundaries ends with dailies. 

Why I am mentioning all these.. ? Last sunday I got a letter from Mr.Mani..

It was in 15paise yellow post card.. He tried to compress the wishes of his family members in one side of card and in the other side of the card he asks "Have you read Tolstoy..? You should read to appreciate the beauty!"

A Filmy Friend

The more I see movies, the more encouraging I feel. Yes, I feel that I could make a better movie  than most of them. I agree to the fact that it is an 'industry' but I cant digest all these craps made in the name of commercialisation. I should be able to enjoy the movie in any part of the world. It should not portray local emotions and people. It should kindle the inner artistic spirits of every human being on earth, no matter where he is from.

I have a friend who wants to overturn the way in which Tamil films are made. He lives in a mansion in Triplicane, Chennai. Fortunate enough to be an assistant director if a movie which was dropped, He now works as an Assistant of an assistant director who shares his room in the mansion. Both have atleast 20 stories in their repertoire. Action, Comedy, Sentiment, .. and one item number kind of stories. Phir bhi Pass ho gaya! kinda themes. I was not able to discuss with them about Kurosowas or Goddards. Their gruelling poverty strikes me. I asked them to take stories from their own lives. A good director should always maintain a diary or a blog and capture his emotions then and there. 

"DP! In this fouth story na.. I have a scene before the intermission. The Hero stands on top of a mound.. The heroine runs towards him.. And there was a gun-shot" 

"I pray that the story ends there itself" I said.

Some fallacies: (also applicable to movies in the past)

• I think a girl`s father would never decide to kill his daughter just because she refused to marry a guy who was chosen by him. 
  
• You wont be reconnected on phone when you bang the button (where receiver is placed), These shots normally come when the villain threatens and cuts the phone.
• No boys hostel is so shabby & No girls hostel is so sauber as shown in the movies.
• There wont be a case where there is no exchange of words between parties in a fight.
• Not all the beautiful people are intelligent.
• There is nothing called 'Love at first sight'.. 

(Readers can post more in the comments (in films between 1990-2008).. The best of them will be awarded a book on 'How to write a screenplay?' written by Sujatha)

I asked him to correct some of the common fallacies in his story. He greeted me that I am going to be the next-sujatha in larger context. I paid the bill for the dinner. He argued that he can make 'Nylon kayiru' novel into a movie. God save the king!

As he came to Central station in Chennai to see me off, I asked him a realistic question.

"Do you have some scripts in your mind already?"

"Thats least important! Now its time to make contacts with big people" He said.

It is a more realistic answer.

Cadence of soul

 Hold on! I could hear light. How often this had happened to me before..? It an eerie whizz that has got emanated from the crust of the lamp and its audible to me now. 

Call it 'Chevlovsky effect' or whatever..I will now have the third shot of today. The mystical chemical reaction had already begun and it has started cleansing the tawdry marks in my soul. Reality is something that has to be quarantined. It is the sickest thing on earth. It kills the fantasies and walks over the cadaver of the illusions. I push reality to the corner with this chemical elixir.. but it pounces back at me with vengence. Reality is the greatest nemesis of mankind.

The light have now changed their note. It is a shriller now. I hate this.. It kills the ambience. Who on earth invented the sodium vapour lamp.? 

I am an antagonist to my own beliefs. Its a pleasing thing to oppose someone and its more pleasing to oppose your own reality. Try it out folks! 

Let me have the fourth shot of the day.

Directors cut: This is supposed to be the first scene in my film. It is jus one frame where a fetid young man with beard gawks at a sodium vapour lamp on the roadside. He is doped as mentioned. Just a lesson in writing screenplay. I should convey the thoughts of that person through some camera angles. Let me try.

Nandi Hills (a short story)

Vijay decided to kill Bhaskar. It was not an immediate decision. He had thought about it a few months back but had to postpone because Bhaskar had taken a leave. 

Vijay felt betrayed. Why english was so hard to him..? Is it his fault that he wears thick glasses and finds difficult to speak with girls.? Some people are groomed like that.. They are failures of a ill-mannered society and a shabby culture. Vijay had never felt so low.

Bhaskar met Vijay a year back. That was the time when Bhaskar was new to office. Some people are flamboyant by default. They make friends easily. They do things with a panache. Bhaskar is one of them. 

"You seem to be quiet always.. Why not you speak out..?" Bhaskar asked Vijay as both lit cigarettes.

"No! I am always like that" Vijay was taken aback by the blatant question.

In conversations after that Vijay opened up and told his complexes to Bhaskar. To list down a few -Vijay is short (his height is 5 feet 2 inches ). Vijay cannot speak English fluently (he studied in Kannada medium). He believes he is impotent (smokes 15 cigarettes per day). He has curly hair inside his ears and wears cylindrical power glasses (attributed to genes). And in top of all that he wants to speak to a girl so badly in the past few days.

"Just go ahead and start the conversation" Bhaskar advised Vijay.

"How can I..? Ananthi is so beautiful.. How can a person like me.. A dumb squib like me talking to her.."

"Hmmm.. Can I help you..? I can introduce her to you" Bhaskar had a faint smile.

"No! for gods sake.. Leave me alone.. I am more than happy with my Byron and shelly" 

"Then marry them.. Dont ever think of Ananthi" Bhaskar left.

Vijay stood in front of mirror that night. He does this so often. 

"I know these people. So mean and so trite. I cannot reduce my self esteem and go and talk to someone.. Why should I..? Is she so important.. Let her come and talk to me.."

The following day was Ananthi`s birthday.. People were wishing her all the way from morning. She looked more beautiful that day. 

"Come on Vijay! It is a good oppurtunity. Go and wish her" yelled Bhaskar.

"Shut your mouth! Why on earth should I wish a stranger for their birthday.. Everyday on earth thousands of people were born" 

"Hey! You are nuts.. Its better you consult a psychiatrist"

"Mind your words Bhaskar! Please try to argue within your limits" Vijay left as he shouted this words.

That night when Vijay stood infront of mirror he decided to kill Bhaskar. He was waiting for an oppurtunity from then on. It came yesterday. Everyone in the office decided to go to Nandi hills for a excursion.

"Hey Vijay!  You are gonna come for this excursion" Bhaskar commanded vijay.

This is what they call 'digging ones own grave' ... Vijay had to make exquisite plans to kill Bhaskar. It should look like a accidental fall from the mountain.. He should also take Bhaskar alone detaching him from the friends circle to accomplish the ordeal. Lets see what happens..

It was a jeering journey in the bus. People were singing and dancing. Ananthi was in white dress looked like an angel. Vijay and Bhaskar were sitting in the same seat. Vijay was not involved in the activities. 

"I should atleast kill one useless person on earth.. Being stupid is not his fault.. But how can he mock at me.. I am destined for something big.. How can he mock at me for not talking to Ananthi.." Thoughts went like a flocking feather after a bird hunt.

People started talking the same old office stories once they reached Nandi hills. Everyone tried their best to show that they were child-like by their heart. Vijay wanted to act quickly.

"Can you come with me for a walk? I want to talk something personally" Vijay asked Bhaskar.

"Ya.. Why not" 

Nandi Hills has a fort built by Tipu sultan. There is a special place called Tipu`s drop from where the prisoners where dropped from the hill. In the current topography if someone falls from Tipu`s bend they will directly come to the second hairpin bend.

"It had been a terrible year for me Bhaskar" Vijay started.

"Hey.. Cool down.. May be you are thinking so much.. Have you been to NIHMANS..? I told you to do so."

"No Bhaskar! I may not need it"

"Hmmm.. you keep turning down my suggestions"

Vijay laughed. The valley infront seemed to echo. 

It happened in a split second. "You dont need to live anymore" shouted Vijay and kicked Bhaskar into Tipu`s drop.

Venkatappa received a urgent call. He called two of constables and reached the 2nd hairpin bend of Nandi hills. As the police jeep reached the spot, people moved and made way for Venkatappa. 

It was a gory scene. Venkatappa had to bend backwards to see the Tipu`s drop on top . It was like a faint dot. 

"Hmmm.. What is name of the victim?" asked Venkatappa.

"Vijay Bhaskar! sir" told one of his constables.