ಕನ್ನಡದಲ್ಲಿ ಬ್ಲಾಗ್ ಬರೆದರೆ ಹೇಗಿರತ್ತೆ? ನನಗೇನೊ complicated, text book ಕನ್ನಡ ಬರಿಯಕ್ಕೆ ಬರಲ್ಲ. ಬಂದ್ರೆ ಕೂಡ ಆ ಭಾಶೆ ಬಹಳ pretentious ಅನಿಸುತ್ತೆ. ಜನ ಮಾತಾಡೊ ತರ ಬರದ್ರೆ, ಓದಕ್ಕೂ ಚಂದ, ಕೇಳಕ್ಕೂ ಚಂದ.

ಸುಮಾರು ಸಾರಿ ನನ್ನ friends ಕೇಳ್ತಾರೆ ... ಕನ್ನಡದವಳಾಗಿ, ಕನ್ನಡ ಮರ್ತುಬಿಟ್ಟ್ರೆ ಹೇಗೆ ಅಂತ. (ಕೆಲವರು ಕೇಳ್ತಾರೆ, ಮಿಕ್ಕಿದವರು ಮನ್ಸಲ್ಲೆ ಅನ್ಕೋತಾರೆ.) Well, ಅದು part of life ಅಶ್ಟೆ. Hyderabad ಗೆ ಬಂದು, ಇಲ್ಲಿನ ಭಾಶೆ ಕಲ್ತು, ಇಲ್ಲಿನವರ ಜೊತೆ ಬಾಳ್ತಾ ಇದ್ದಾಗ ಅದೇ natural ಅಲ್ವ? In any case, ಮುಂಚಿದಾನೆ ನಾನು ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ "English ರಾಣಿ" as my parents used to say. ಈಗ "Kanglish" ಏ ನನಗೆ ಬರೋ ಭಾಶೆ...

ಆದ್ದ್ರಿಂದ, ನನಗೆ ಈ software ತುಂಬ ಇಶ್ಟ ಆಯಿತು. The software allows me to write the way I am ... without pretending otherwise.

How not to be a mindless sheep

I bought a book called Dealing with tiresome teachers, picky parents and foul friends for my pre-teen. She fears it'll turn out to be one of those "character building things" I'm trying to foist on her, but I suspect she'll read the book anyway.

In the meanwhile, I came across a neatly articulated bit of gyan in the book... How not to be a mindless sheep:

• Engage (with people and situations)
• Enquire (why, how and what of things)
• Experience (life - for yourself)

That makes sense to me, even minus the tiresome teachers, picky parents et al.

Btw, the book is by Scharada Bail (Scholastic), costs a 100 rupees and here's a nice review of the book.

Afshin

This is one amazing guy. Afshin Amoozadeh. Iranian, studying theatre in the university. What motivation must a 38 year old man have to come here to India, for three years, with his family, to study theatre?

What amazes me is the way he deals with his communication. He battles with his English, with our english, and all the million accents in between. I've seen plenty of people struggle to express themselves in an English forum with limited vocabulary. I've seen them experience everything - from embarassment to apathy to distress to scorn for the english language.

But you've got to see this guy in action. He calmly and openly listens. No fuss, no apologies. When he doesn't understand he asks. And at the end of the day manages to communicate complex ideas - in a refreshingly direct way. And he's doing our group a world of good. We've willingly chosen to go slow for his sake... and it's doing wonders to how much we are listening to each other!

Mobile blogging
I dabbled in some "cutting edge" blogging ... trying to send photos from my cell phone directly to my blog using the mail-in feature. It bombed. Atachments don't work apparently. Oh sigh. Maybe the blogger in beta will allow that!

In the meanwhile, some pics from the university. You're allowed to mistake it for a jungle resort and go green with envy.

Surviving Talent Hunts

The dime a dozen talent hunts and reality shows being conducted for kids are taking their toll.

The routine is standard. Your kid comes home from school with a form to fill and an event to go to. The perfunctory sheet of paper informs us that so and so is doing such and such to discover the hidden side of our precious kids (oooo, so nice of them). There are going to be x rounds of elimination, so could we please sign some ridiculous terms and conditions and turn up at 8 in the morning in that particular school in the back of beyond?

Of course, the kids want to go. Competitive spirit, or just too much watching of such shows on TV… the reason is immaterial. You sign away your time, money, privacy, (with no real clue what you’ll do in case your kids does qualify) Soon the kids run off into whatever it is that needs to be done.. till they get “eliminated”. Then the fun begins.

You have, assembled in one, usually uncomfortable space, anywhere from 50 to 200 edgy parents – all the ingredients needed for anxiety, bitching, comparing, duh, ego clashes, frustration, giggling, heart attacks, …everything upto Z.

Prominent groups include:
• Mothers and fathers trying to live up to the “perfect parent” image (If the Complan lady and the Raymonds man can do it, so can I!)
• Ladies anxious beyond description if their kids might somehow have become famished and undernourished in the last 30 minutes since they saw the kid,
• People bored out of their wits but unwilling to show it,
• Proud parents who will recount to reluctant neighbours detailed descriptions of their children’s talents
• Groups actively comparing the length of social studies answers and the unit test schedule in your kids school Vs my kids school
• The let’s-abuse-all-these-TV-Shows-while-we-sit-around-here group
• Group dedicated to making the organizers’ lives miserable
• People watchers (those that sit around and get their dose of entertainment by observing all the chaos happening). And there's the occasional nutcase who will open out her laptop and write blogs about it!

Eventually the event gets done. All the curry puffs are eaten, the tea-wallah packs up his shop, the abusing of judges is finished, the organizers begin to forget their own names and cuss the day they were born, and everyone heads home to see if some snippet of the day’s events made it to the local TV news bulletin … (Scrolling news update: shortfall of curry puffs has parents up in arms. Stay tuned for further developments…)

All is well with the world.

Cell-less in Bomarillu

Continuing on the movie theme, this weekend it was Bommarillu.

The movie does not have single cell phone!!! Not as part of the plot, not as part of the fashion accessories, not even part of any frame!! (I'll have to re-see the movie to be absolutely sure of the last...)

 

I mean, its not like the story or the context can't have a cell phone. It just chooses not to! All you see are sleek cordless phones in the rich hero's house and an regular BSNL type phone in the not-so-rich heroine's house. And all other characters manage just fine without once reaching for the mobile. And all this where the plot is being moved along pretty much by phone conversations.

 

Nice touch!

 

Why see Pokiri 3 times?

If I cared for my reputation in the slightly snooty circles, I wouldn't be admitting this... But I've actually see the movie 3 times. And if other friends, who've been wanting to see the movie want me to accompany them, I just might go again.

 

Is it Mahesh Babu? There's one school of thought in my family that I'm watching the movie just coz I like M Babu's face (or other assets). And then there are the accusations that I like the guy simply because he's tall, fair, and caucasian loooking. Of course, this observation comes from my daughter... and it comes in the wake of my observation that she only likes barbie dolls because they are tall, ridiculously thin and fair. Hmm. Maybe I like th guy's mug because he's T, F and CL... but it would be so uncool to accept that in this politically correct world. But then I also drool over all sorts of other unlikely types on screen and off screen, so I guess it evens things out.

 

Or maybe the movie has a story I like. "Story". Like in narrative... with plots and characters and things. Or the screen play? Or those ooo-aaah songs? Or those snappy dialogues? camerawork? Editing?

Or then, the social scientists can tell me the movie is fulfilling a deep desire of mine and connects to the social myths that I live with. Perhaps they can de-construct the message and symbols that are connecting with my consciousness. Perhaps it is my childhood, or my identity or some other esoteric reason.

 

Or perhaps its all just a conspiracy by the aliens

 

I'll be damned if I can think of one intelligent reason why I like the movie. But the fact is, I do. Enough to see it a fourth time.

This is about the most amazing poll "trick" I've heard. The marketing guys and other kinds of incentive planners, sit up and take note.

So there is this business man in Hospet, Karnatka (a mine owner actually, by the name of Laad. I forget his first name...) who has political ambition and wants to win a local election. So he gives out color TVs to all the families in his constituency.

So, big deal you might say, all you sceptics who've grown up on such tales of democracy-in-action.

But this deal had a kahaani me twist. All the TVs were purchased on credit, to be paid for in monthly installments. The gentleman told ever recepient of the TV that if he won the election, there was no need to pay the installments, and if he didn't they were free to keep the TV, but the installments were to be paid by them...

Last I heard, the man had been happily elected and was even spotted doing some work for his constituency.

Krishna unmasked

Overheard in the school: (I swear this is real, embellished only every so slightly)

Kid 1: Why is tomorrow holiday yaa?

Kid 2: Janmashtami

Kid 1: In my house we call it Krishnaashtami

Kid 3: what??

Kid 1: Krishnaashtami

Kid 3 (slightly dissapointed) I thought you said Krrish Mask tami.

 

(At this rate, the new super hero on TV should be called Janma... come to think of it, Janma sounds like he's the sequel to Karma)

 

And all you biscuit sellers, soap peddlars and associated marketing chappies: pop the champagne and clap each others' backs - never was there such glamour in a piece of broken plastic masquerading as a super hero's mask

Back to College

Day 1: I tried the bus today. It's been i know-not-how-long since I sat in that college bus. It sure looked like nothing had changed in the 11 years I've been away from college... least of all the bus.

 

But at least there were people around in the department. Things were happening. The library works (even if the books were dusty beyond belief). There's no water to drink at the department, but tea in the canteen made me nostalgic!

My whine list might resurface now and then... but on the whole, I think I am going to enjoy being back.

This going back to college thing is full of unexpected twists.
The whole admission process was a nightmare last week and the week before. (You'd think that a place like the University of Hyderabad would have a better system to manage the admission process) I mean, it would have taken no more than 30 minites per student to complete the whole thing if only the process had been re-organized a bit. I spent about 11 hours over two days. And I was one of the lucky one!! People were waiting around for 2 whole days to get a little piece of paer and plastic that would welcome them to the university. Those that had a bit of patience and traces of good humor left, sat around comparing the admission process to getting a darshan at Tirupati. Those that didn't, fumed and searched around for a phone number to call the local gossip mongering TV guys - TV9 would have captured some good sound bytes of Hyderabadi gaalis if they had been around.

This summer is Enid Blyton rediscovery time. Who Enid Blyton?? EEEnid Blyeeeton... that's who! And if you don't know, wiki help you!! For the lazy, Enid Blyton is staple reading diet from ages 9 through 12 of "convent-types" in Indian cities. Others also maybe, I wouldn't know.

And I willingly, even fondly introduced my daughter to the flagship items - Secret Sevens, Famous Fives and the Malory Towers. It's amazing the books continue to enthrall. I mean, enthrall barely begins to describe it. The girl's addicted to them. She reads them cover to cover, her pace only limited by the number of books her library (or I) will allow her to borrow at a time. That's pretty much how I remember my romance with E Blyton.

<

>Of course, you didnt think I'd buy the lot did you??! Famous fives have to be borrowed from a library and read on afternoons in the summer holidays. Hmm, that's not entirely true. She does own 4, no 5 different Enid Blyton books. That's one more than what I owned. And mine was a collection of stories not one of the mysteries - more baby stuff if you know what I mean. Wonder where I lost that book. Well, considering I have a fair number of other books bought when I was 6 years old, its not asking for too much!

There's one amazing phenomenon about Blyton Books that I am sure deserves some serious research. Its a documented fact. After reading a couple of books the young ladies begin to yearn for stuff such as ginger beer, potted meat sandwiches, hot buttery scones, cold meat pie, fresh lettuce and radish salad and the like. Yup, the same young things that have grown up on a diet of rice, avakkai and bendekai curry will salivate at the thought of cold meat pie. All in response to descriptions of picnic lunches in the books. Someone call Pavlov!!

<

> Well, to tell the truth, I salivated too at age 9. And many years later, I recoiled from the rare-done meat and other gastronomically alien stuff in my travels to lands where they do eat the items described by Enid baby. It was only then I remembered my salivating self. Funny. Funny. And then I watch it happen all over again. Some burger ka baap will surely be interested in such a study... bring in the funds, let's research the Enid Enigma>>

I have arrived.
On the other side of 33. Dont ask me why 33 - wouldn't 30 or 40 have been neater? or even a nice rounded 35?

My mind is re-wiring rapidly.
I've discoverd I have a heart (not the blood pumping item silly - I meant that figuratively)
I've figured my body pretty closely follows the mind-heart developments.
I am convinved that something that can be labelled "soul" exists.

And yeah - I also think this is the time to stop and smell the technology. If I intend to keep my digital immigrant status, that's important. Not that there's anything bad about being a digital dinosaur... I guess I'll prefer the immigrant state.