Sunday, October 26, 2008

Dissecting Impressions


No not with the limited reach of the cognitive capabilities of the human mind, I would recommend a good serving of the famed Holmes-Watson duos’ deductive might, oodles of Supermanly determination and a pinch of joblessness to taste as the main ingredients needed to make a meal out of understanding the enigma called a ‘female mind’. Some people live their lives in the quest for answers to their numerous questions, while few others engage their lives trying to find the questions to the answers nature has already presented them with. The slugabed that I am would obviously park me in the latter zone and which is why I have taken this bold step into uncharted territory.
Biology is a subject I personally enjoyed a lot in high school thanks to the lavish scope for conning tongue twisters it presented me. But then that was school and 11th grade was a totally different ball game altogether. The advent of the science of Dissection made sure that only the passionate and patient ones remained. The rapid thinning of the boys interested in the subject was hence no surprise.
Mastery of this science calls for absolute precision, meticulous observational powers, attention to minute details, patience to fend off the fiends of distraction for long hours and of course a good pair of motor limbs. Save an occasional shriek you come across when a dead frog jumps into life, our friends from the other gender have what it takes to go the dissective distance.
Not surprisingly our womenfolk have gone on to manifest their dissective skill set in areas outside the jurisdiction of Biology stretching far into the mundane trivialities of life!
To help you see the picture I’m trying to paint, allow me to darken the hues a little more.
Remorse and ignorance are invariably two major feelings a guy would encounter when he commits the sin of raising subjects like ‘first impression’ as a part of casual talk. This talk ain’t any clumsy just-for-the-sake-of-it conversation subject, not when ‘tis posed to a woman. As the list of the details of that darned first meeting are unraveled the poor guy realizes how futile his 20-odd year’s sentence with him was when compared to the 30-odd minutes this lady needed to fold him inside out. It then appears as though all the cosmic forces of nature have taken time off to join the lady in dissecting the guy and his ‘first impression’; they cleave, rip and make such surgical incisions of his character that are simply unimaginable.
Now all of a sudden those long uneasy silences, those distant glances at the restaurant ceiling and those furtive glances to check if she’s looking don’t seem all that unimportant! Torn to mono-syllable acknowledgement of his ‘first impression’, his sin dawns on him and remorse engulfs him!
An impression might mean the taste that lingers in your palate for us lesser mortals, but for the species called females, it’s more than that, it goes to even the flavors used. Its dissection on special order! Guess some of my answers and many of your questions have been put to rest thru’ this discourse!

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

The Four lettered sailor

[The contents of this blog could be classified as Parental Advisory, so request exercise of discretion in taking the plunge]

The guy on the street foul mouths the driver of the speeding roadster; the desperate loser attributes his distorted luck; the seductive girlfriend eggs on her reluctant boyfriend to go the distance; the reviewed silences his reviewers; the excited winner of the darned reality show expresses her astonishment on actually being crowned the bitchiest of em’ all; the average English-speaking ruffian across the road prefers to use it as a substitute to the well acclaimed punctuation of the Queen’s language. Different tones, different circumstances, different connotations, that is what the four-letter F-word, ‘FUCK’ has come to be.
It’s funny how acronyms are shaped, how they are twisted and turned to look normal! Else how could a protocol from the era of monarchy have given birth to this genius of a slang word? Something that deserves even more pondering would be that not many of the consumers of this brand of language know the roots of this commonplace figure of speech if I may say so. In the Isles of the Great Kingdom, where men had to seek consent of the Kings for their marriage, in an era where concubines and mistresses were not classified as abnormal no matter how shameful they might have been, ‘Fornication upon Consent of King’ was a custom that was not what you could categorise as illegitimate. One single meaning it had and a not so abnormal one during the times it was coined, no matter how morally low an act it was.
What has become of this protocol is definitely worth a laugh! As people say one bad remark stays put in spite of the numerous good you might have done to cover it up, it always shows its shameful head in a crowd, it’s the same with language. No matter how many beautiful words it might have gifted to mankind, it’s the bad ones that stick. I doubt if the acronym FUCK stood for ‘FOOD upon Consent of King’ or ‘FAITH upon Consent of King’ it would have given us this modern day adjective dear to many. FUCK has stood the test of time, though beaten, weathered and torn by the turbulent and changing winds of usage and lifestyles. Definitely some seeds of our ever-so-colorful vocabulary of the times would stand this same test and bloom in colors not conceivable at this stage.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Backpacking Diaries:London

An ardent fan of the greatest writer to be born out of London, this wreck of a writer does but deserve to imitate the legend in this account of the great man’s birthplace!
So here goes…
Act I Scene 1: The Queen’s capital
The task of blending thine self into a country new to thine feet is but one of the simplest of tasks if thou haileth from the mystic lands of India. And the capital of the Colony is no different.
Thou art reminded of thy first lessons in English which thine Grammar teacher bellowed into thine ears.
Thou art reminded of thy road rules, thy sporting cultures, thy administerial setups, and thy past.
I wouldst like to term it the lasting ‘British side-effect’.

The Victorianesque buildings, the ever-so-silent Thames, the good ‘ol Abbey, the numerous variants of London bridges ,Mr. Big Ben, the Tower of London, the Cathedral’s all stacked up against the modern wonders like the London eye, Madame Tussaud’s, the Underground give a taste of the British prominence of the past and dominance of the present.
Rich in history, tradition and stories of the past, every nook and corner of the most expensive city of the world has a story of its own. London is where history originated for most of the third world countries. It is home to the legends of war, culture, sport and of course royalty.
The city is studded with monuments like the Nelson’s column, the National Gallery where I got my first taste of Michelangelo and Da Vinci; statues of World leaders, memorials for the Women of War (WWII) [see pic]

Londoners take pride in a lot of their assets and rightly so. To name a few it would be their ‘Underground’ – MIND THE GAP as its punch line yells out, their cabs, their football clubs, their tea (Devonshire and Cornwell, two adversary counties who stake their claim at being the original ones), their health – you can’t help but notice what you could call their fitness fetish. Everybody runs, running is not a hobby, its more of a habit they relish in. The whole of London looked like a set of a Nike ad with everyone from people in business suits to the average man on the street ipoded and running. Truly sport is a true form of uniting a country.

There’s a lot for us Indians to learn from the British when it comes to being proud of your country. One chapter they left out on purpose during the colonial teaching days.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Is this how it ought to be?


I couldn't help but write this on the solemn occassion of our 61st birth anniversary as a nation.
Only yesterday was I made to realise how much we have to walk,jump,leap or maybe fly to earn the coveted tag of a 'developed nation'. Knee deep in rain water which had flooded onto the roads..rather areas demarcated as roads, stuck for hours in traffic due to lack of infrastructure in a city with a sobriquet the 'Millenium City'. Is this what a millenium city in the world's 4th strongest GDP country ought to be?
This on the eve of the 61st year of our liberation from the Brits does not augur too well.
I am reminded of an article I read about the symbolism of our National Flag, a stark contrast of what we have turned it to be. We couldn't have disregarded its meaning in a better way than we have actually done.
Lets not just blame politicians when it comes to playing this game we are all so good at. How dedicated are WE to our work? Do WE place work above material gains for our self? As an individual have WE done anything worth mentioning as national duty? Have WE stopped complaining and started taking initiatives? As a citizen of this country do WE have our personal vision for the country?
Our national flag was meant to represent a way of life, rather than an image of unity or a twice-a-year symbol for showcasing your national fervor.
Saffron: It 'was' sadly not 'is' meant to symbolise disinterestedness/renunciation from material gains. The color stood for reminding our leaders to deny material gains and instead dedicate oneself to their work. Nice joke!
White: Light, the path of truth to guide our conduct. Do we need guidelines for our conduct? Aren't we responsible enough to collect bribes, take shortcuts to fame, lie to beat competition and term it 'smart' work? Another to the list of 'should be's'..
Green: Meant to remind us of our relation to the soil, nature and life which depends on us. Ask the cows mercilessly beaten at traffic junctions, the dogs which go under the wheel of many a speeding car, the plants we pluck, the trees we uproot, the streets we litter, they will give you a true account of how we have fulfilled our commitments.
Ashoka Chakra: The wheel of law,dharma which ought to be be our principle of life and work. The wheel also denotes motion. Resistance to change is what we like to cling on to, be it nuclear policies, age-old archaic rules and laws, logicless practices.
We are all part of the cause. We are not just the victims. Just as I would have cursed the regime yesterday for the state of affairs in the country, somebody somewhere would curse me for my inefficacies.
However, all is not lost, people have woken up, better late than never, we have realised the need to change. Our NGO's, Newspapers and Corporates have started acting.
I am no preacher, don't deserve to be either. I realised it today and I share my realisation. My only plea to me and you is to once again rise to the occasion and live the dream which Tagore beautifully penned as the land..'Where the mind is without fear..'

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

the time keepers


The time on my mobile read 19:27 and I told myself three more minutes...
I had just then realised how much it had gotten into me..I was a devout follower of my self-proposed theory of procrastination.
Back in my college days when I was half as lazy and twice as energetic as I am now, I had devised my own theory, to silence my ever so noisy conscience, when it came to matters of doing ..well to be honest.. Anything!Especially when it came to waking up from a nap..man the kind of reasons I had to come up with to convince my conscience that the world can wait..phew!
I call it the 'Theory of Round figures'. It has absolutely nothing to do with figurines which are round or anythin else which your imagination might conjure up on seeing this name.
According to this theory, within quotes, "Any activity which requires your immediate attention and action can always wait for the nearest round figure time. No event could be as far away from the time it should be acted upon than a mere half hour"...Wow..feels good to know that even I have the ability to complicate the un-complicatable!
Put in understandable terms...a 19:27 activity can be shifted to a 19:30 activity and a 19:31 activity has but no choice but to wait for the clock to strike 20:00..a mere half hour wait.
Having been an avid practioner of this theory for the last 3-4 years, I tell you it has amazing results when it comes to silencing your conscience. the poor chap switches off even before he gets to turn himself on!
Yes, I do find it difficult to, knee deep in my wonderful farce of an excuse to sleep longer,reverse the effect, a theory to wake up is what I desire now.
I would love to discover a theory to counter mine and wake up my good ol' conscience...miss the chatter...incase any of ya'll have one...please for the good of my life..let me know!

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

The Prologue

From the dusty bylanes of Delhi to the raging fires of California; from the serene lakes of Toronto to the thundering falls of Niagara; from the flat stretches of Dubai to the near-vertical streets of San Francisco; from the Colonial Capital of the World to the Empire State, it sure has been enchanting!
Some have been breathtaking, some awe-inspiring, some celestial, some earthly, but all of it put in simple words was plain 'wonderful'.
This eclectic display of beauty and splendour made me realise how blessed we all are to be where we are. Albeit some of these spectacles be mortal made, they all convey a spirit of immortal beauty in them. The urge to match the creations of the maker by man echo thru' all of his creations.
My accounts of my big trip across half the world might not be as captivating as the places I visited, but thou shalt not expect more from a sloth like me who was moved into writing about it.

To heed or not to heed, is but your choice,
My deed to the fullest of my ability I do hereby promise to present.

Keep watching this space for more...

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

the linguistics behind a name

well its been long since i wanted to make my first pug marks out here..
guess i can safely start by sharing the rationale behind my blogger profile name...Jerrin-it!
its a tool which over the last two years of my employment i have come to really take a liking to...the erratic discovery of a masterpiece called the 'POST-IT' notes...the perfect answer to the prayers of a certain church choir members' concern of falling bookmarks! [fun fact]
a verb that it appears to be this product has become a proper noun in today's world...and a prominent one at it...though my intentions don't spread that far..but in my circle of influence i would love to see something similar but with a reversal of roles....hope my blurtings will change the proper noun 'Jerrin' to a verb 'Jerrin-it!'