Will the real swine please stand up?

To set the context right, this post does not contain any new path breaking information about the pandemic, nor does it intend to critique any one not mentioned henceforth. This post is about the wondering of the common man, like you, who has so much information thrown at him, that he has to react first and assimilate later.

A possibly overlooked symptom of the pandemic was the human paranoia. The fact that not all of us are genetically designed to intelligently sort through data and pick out information, when confronted by an unknown fear. This fear has lead to the degradation of a fundamental human trait, that of faith. The fear has us suspecting everything and everyone…from the irresponsible colleague who will simply not follow “sneezing etiquette” , to the college friend whose eyes look “seriously red” since the time he came back from his south-east Asian holiday.

Unfortunately I have also succumbed to this symptom. To the extent that I believe there is an unholy nexus of a few greedy men who seem to be taking advantage of the frailty in human emotions. I sit and think who is to gain from this peculiar mongering of information. I doubt the private hospitals; will they be hoarding the Tamiflu tabs and controlling the information so as to create a demand. I doubt the pharma companies; maybe they too want to create the illusion of the solve-all-your-problems tab. Heck, I even doubt it could be the handiwork of the face-mask makers and hand-wash makers. Do you realize that this is the most hygiene conscious we all have ever been?

Whoever be the gainers, there is definitely one agent in the midst of all this commotion that I have begun to completely detest. The media! Giving us a count of fatalities and “critical” cases, as if they were giving us live cricket scores! The expectation from the media is NOT to be the first to report fatalities, is NOT to be at the H1N1 testing center shoving the mike at a worried mother clutching her sick baby, it is NOT to add to the existing chaos at hospitals by provoking people to “BE PREAPARED!” and it is DEFINITELY NOT to scare the living hell out of the common man. What sense does it make to give a whole bunch of scary statistics and a huge list of precautions and then, as if to justify the morality of the aforementioned “responsible” mask, request me to not panic! But again who am I complaining about? The same bunch of nitwits who jeopardized a commando operation in the heart of our country with minute-by-minute reprting, the same group of nincompoops who cover a natural calamity that occurred in the corner of a city and claim that the whole city has come to a standstill, the “harbingers of information” who have a “breaking news” every single minute of the day!

After all this the best argument that I’m definitely going to get is – “We show it to the people because they want to see it. If they don’t want to, they can always change the channel!” The lamest excuse and the weakest retreat ever! I believe they have an easier choice to make than all of us. But that maturity is too much to ask for…So I pray, for once,

OF ALL THOSE NUMBERS YOU SHOWED OF PEOPLE AFFECTED BY H1N1 SHOW ME THE NUMBER OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN CURED! OR IS THAT NOT SENSATIONAL ENOUGH?

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Update August 12,2009

The following article appeared recently on the ET website. A welcome change.

http://economictimes.indiatimes.com/articleshow/4884650.cms

And yet another example of pathetic reporting.

The story running as a headline in one of India’s premier news channels reads…

“In what could throw the medicos in a tizzy is a report in a leading US newspaper, which says swine flu may not always be accompanied by fever.

In fact, in a significant number of documented cases, no temperature has been recorded even after some patients deteriorated.

So absence of fever can lead to wrong diagnosis, and underestimation of total number of confirmed cases.

Also, screening at airports will have limitations, as a flu carrier without fever will go undetected through thermal scanners.”

I have been hunting all over the internet for the source of this new revelation, but unfortunately the smart reporter did not bother to mention neither the clinical validity nor the actual source. But the intent was never to inform, it was just again to sensationalize.

Not there yet!

It is a great day for India at the Oscars. The Oscars have always been pegged as a commercial and critical benchmark for cinematic talent. Instant fame and at times redemption of lost fame follows an award.
At the 71st edition of the Oscars a musical genius from India received, what is rightly described, as a well-deserved recognition to his musical talent. Not to take anything away from Rasool, but like all the other awards that Slumdog Millinaire won, his too can be attributed to the euphoria this movie has created (much like how Titanic won anything it touched). Slumdog may or may not have been Rasool’s magnum opus but it was more so for AR Rahman. I watched the movie and I observed something unique about the music. It was actually acting like an invisible string that was holding the script together. The background score is so powerful, that its almost unnoticeable. It is inter-woven into the story and its characters. “Dreams on fire” or “Latika’s theme” is incredibly brilliant because any other tune would’ve made the audience complain of its constant recurrence. But the tune is so perfect that I accepted it blindly whenever it came. The point is Rahman earned his Oscar. Slumdog was only a vehicle for his mighty talent. His music IS the euphoria underlining this movie.

The 71st Oscars was not a day of victory for Indian cinema. Indian cinema has still not got its due. It is still viewed as an extravagant, overtly colorful eastern version of a musical. The comparison is never fair. Its unfair to compare a “Million dollar baby” with a “K3G”, or a “Pursuit of happYness” with “K2H2″!! Compare them with “Das Vidaniya” or “Dev D” or “Khosla ka ghosla”. The former are equivalents of the Adam Sandler/Will Ferrel slapstick commercial flicks! As an ardent lover of good cinema, I will not accept any Slumdog award as a win for Indian cinema. The day an Indian movie wins in the Best foreign language category, or the day an Indian director is recognised at this stage, THAT will be the day of reckoning for Indian cinema…that’ll be the day we will cease to use the ugly nomenclature, Bollywood.

The 71st Oscars was one man’s triumph, a gift for his humilty…AR Rahman…I salute you!

The stories fade away…

Every time one of my distant relatives comes visiting, I get to be an audience to some amazingly interesting conversations. Ranging from how my dad and uncle used to come home to Trichur during their vacations and to spend the whole summer, how they roamed around with their noses sky high as if they owned the place, how they ran across the paddy fields to jump into the pond at the end of it, how they romped into the dense backyard plundering the weak creepers and shrubs,their feared enemies, or how they spent a lazy after-noon throwing stones to score a mango or two…

The worrying thought that went across my mind was, are we running out of stories to tell our kids when they grow up? Are we building a generation of fathers and uncles who have never seen the simple life? Our generation is a scared lot. The feeling of being protected has encroached our very existence. To explore or wander aimlessly is a daring thing to do in these times, not the regular drill. The cynics amongst us rue on “losses” in their lives, but what we dont realise is that we’ve been losing a lot of important things all along the way.

Let the kids splash their way around in slush, give them their grand-parents, let them taste the rain drops, let them fight with their fantasies, let them fly…

Lest we have a generation, whose tales begin with “There was this one time when your father and uncle played on the Xbox for a whole night!”

The Indian Infatuation…

Scene 1: This one takes place at the railway reservation counter. I have bungled in one of my ticket bookings and I need to get a detail editted. This was during the times when no changes were allowed on the railway e-ticket once booked. So my folks manage to convince me to have a word with the reservation supervisor, who according to them was a very approachable person, and attempt the impossible. I peek into his cabin and I see he’s chatting with some foreign tourists who also seem to have pulled off a “krishnaraj”. I decide to wait till he calls me in. A couple of other foreigners form a queue behind me, guessing this is the norm here. In some time I’m ushered in and asked to wait, cuz apparently he’s not done with the earlier folks. I patiently ait. I notice that this dude is actually very polite and maybe my folks were right. Suddenly I see my chances brighten, I see myself sitting traveling on the same train which I was sure I wouldn’t, I see me getting a window seat even. The supervisor will be my savior. Finally the couple depart and I get the great man’s attention. But the smile on his face has vanished. The expression he’s wearing is far from warm. “Yes?”, he asks. I pour my woes. “One second”, he replies. My hopes begin to sore again. Maybe he’s gonna call his deputies and ask them to handle my case. Maybe he’s going to login to the system and do it himself. Maybe…”Yes ma’am, please come in”, he ushers the blond lady who was standing behind me in the queue. She gives me a queer look which I gladly reciprocate in equal intensity. “What seems to be the problem ma’am?”. Whoa!! The smile is back!! “What about me sir??”, I ask with a bewildered look…”Ow it can’t be done!”, Mr Supervisor swipes away my dreams and yes sir, the Athithi is God in my country…I’m just the common man!

Scene 2: A posh wedding. Complete with dhol and barat. And ofcourse the quintessential troupe of the groom’s college buddies. But there is a difference here. Mr.Groom is an MBA from the US of A. So that troupe has some foreigners as well. The bride’s mamaji rushes in to welcome the special invitees. They’re given special front row seats, the bride’s party can find a place for themselves. Mamaji’s also ushering them on stage. They’re in almost all the wedding snaps…even in the one with the bride’s father’s cousin’s daughter’s neighbor’s family. Guessing Mamaji got them the extra Gulab Jamun as well!

Its always been there, since Mr.Nehru’s big crush…till our respectable MPs clamouring for Mr.Bill Clinton’s sparsh. The Indian infatuation for fair skin is an integral part of our making. Pray to God, let me not succumb, let me be different!

I miss the chaos…

So I’m here finally. The country which people like me relish about in their minds, like a child thinking of that action hero figurine in the toy store. That toy which he wants so dearly but knows he may never own it. But this uncertaininty adds to the desire, and the uncertainity is really the only reason for the want. Because once he gets the toy, the want is no more and the fulfillment of a desire clouds all other emotions. Fortunately, my desire to see the land of stars and striped sustained throughout the trip and probably will remain since I haven’t seen too much of the place. I was fortunate to see the life in a typical city and a suburb, which is a quiter and greener version of the city. My impressions are based solely on the life I saw around Barrington and Chicago, so yes; it is limited and far from comprehensive. But after 21 days, the one thing I miss and the one thing that was absent is chaos….order in disorder. And coming from India, its part and parcel of my life and I’m incomplete without it. Things are rather predictable here since everyone follows a set. There are things we’re supposed to do, may do, can do and there’s very little left after that. The people are nice or so they seem and every one just seems to be happy with their share of life. The time when I felt most at home was when I saw the Jerry Springer show, a rather queer source of entertainment for an otherwise gentle population. The difference is that back home I just have to take a walk outside for 10 minutes and I would’ve already seen atleast 3 episodes of Jerry Springer on the streets! But we’re still a happy population amidst the chaos.

Its just a case of the boy with one toy in hand – his life long favorite, which works even after all the torture from his childhood, but the new one on the stands is so stunningly packaged that the desire overcomes everything else…

Avial – A common man’s review

My colleagues and myself have this not-so-unusual habit of sharing songs that we admire and relish. Now and then there is that odd comical interpretation of malayalees done by some jovial bunch of engineering students. Ironically that’s how I was introduced to Avial the first time. The song “Nada Nada” was forwarded to me and the subject line read, “Mallu rock – funny as hell”. So I open the music file expecting something along the lines of “Neela bucket” (a novelty mallu rap piece by the aforementioned group of engineering students). But BOY was I in for a surprise!

I was mighty impresses by this song and the logical counter reaction to this is finding out more about this “Avial”. I get to hear some more samples from their videos on YouTube. I liked it so much that I went and got the album for myself! Now to tell you why I’m writing this review. I googled for “Avial music review” and I’m not very impressed by the search results. It was not because Google faltered (duh!) but more so because of the stifled welcome these guys got. And this exactly is the inspiration for this post. My attempt at reviewing music I thoroughly enjoyed.

Ok lets dive right in. The first song is “Nada Nada”. This has become the signature song for the band and rightly so. Its got plenty of airtime (Thanks mainly to ACV jukebox and Rosebowl) and the video has already clocked in a 130K+ hits on YouTube. The sound is supreme and is what I can blindly classify as Alternative Rock. You must’ve seen a slightly modded version of the next song “Chekele” from the movie “Sancharram”. This song is a revolutionary piece of arrangement. A pure folk song has been morphed so beautifully into its evident form. “Njan Aara” is my personal favorite. The song is very hummable and the lyrics a are so deep and can have a multitude of emotions attached to them. I could listen to this one over and over. The snatch is the manner in which the song fades itself with a haunting melody. “Arikkuruke” starts with dialogues from what seems like the movie “Sphadikam”. This song’s shifts to a different tempo and takes the listener with it. While I listened to this song over and over, I was wondering if this song would sound better with a voice like Chad Kroeger. “Aranda” is another rebellious sounding song. Frankly, my measly brain could not comprehend the real essence of this song, it sure reminded me of one Mr. Mike Shinoda and his group. “Karukara” has a beautiful guitar piece in its intro. Although the song sounds alright especially with Aparnashree syncing so beautifully with Anand Raj, I personally felt it didn’t emote the real mood of the lyrics. Nevertheless, the strings are beyond words in this one. One song which sounds like a LOT of songs but nothing like ANY of them is “Aadu Pambe”. This really is one of the most innovative and daring pieces of music I’ve heard in recent times. This song made me an absolute admirer. And what better way to end this fiesta than with a haunting masterpiece. That’s what “Ettam Paatu” is. Mind-blowing lyrics and a tune that brilliantly emotes the feeling. I completely lose myself in this song and I’m sure you would too if you could what the words meant.

So all in all, “Avial” cannot be compared to too many debut albums out there. It would be unfair on the competitors. Its so magnificently arranged, masterfully sequenced and very professionally arranged. I give these guys a standing ovation failing to completely express my awe at what I call a seminal piece of work in Malayalam music and Rock history. Its all thumbs up for “Avial” and an addition to their growing fan club. Ardently awaiting more from them…

Check out Avial performing with the Italian band A67
http://www.myspace.com/sessantasette

Anticipation…

Its been a little over 3 months. 3 months since I went home. I did go once in between but the anticipation was mising then. Let me explain anticipation to you my friend. Anticipation begins with the excitement to book a train ticket, the ticket where the destination station is ERNAKULAM JUNCTION. A nano second of sheer ecstacy when I see that berths are available on this train. Anticipation is eating the rotten hotel food gleefully, beaming with the realisation that Amma’s gonna cook for me in the coming days. Anticipation is listening to those damned boring office lectures with a glint in the corner of my eye knowing that Acha’s waiting to have some amazing conversations with me. Anticipation is looking out at the monsoons beating down on a construction site, but seeing only the array of palm trees in the background…smiling…thinking that this is the only thing I’ll be getting to see for the next couple of days. Anticipation is…feeling restless while simply writing about it. …Can’t wait to get home!

The (slightly) technical dilemma…

The other day I went through a much forwarded news paper article. It was about this new class of techies called the “Softicians”. So what did the article talk about? Go read it

More importantly, the point of discussion was how a lot of “NON IT” crowd is flowing into this domain and how they’re finding it difficult to survive. The start to their careers is a dream one – A hefty package, 6-7 months of relaxation (which is also called training or the more eclectic “ORIENTATION” in some IT cos) and then the actual  work with an awesome crowd and all the office perks. The dream comes crashing down sooner than later.

The fundamental flaw is the reason or more so the lack-of, to initiate a career in this sector. How many techies know what is the real difference between the 2 terms CODING and PROGRAMMING. More importantly how many know whether they code or program? The truth is coding is something ANY trained individual can perform. Good coding is a totally different matter which is more or less a myth! Programming is the art. The art of problem solving. The programmer is like Arjuna and the parrot’s eye is the target, the problem to be solved. The bow and arrow are like programming languages, mere tools. He could very well attain his task with a pointed piece of wood, a sharp dart or any other means. If there was a strong wind blowing accompanied with some heavy showers, Arjuna would have to improvise. And the programmer, when he has to improvise his only tool is his logical or lateral thinking ability. THIS is what is missing and this is the fundamental flaw.

I would be grossly unfair if I would generalise this trait with all the mechanical, chemical(ceramic!) engineers who drfited into this realm. This trait is common with anyone who was never been passionate about programming, who never wanted to put his problem solving skills to test, who believed “KNOWING” Java would be all that he required, who thinks Linux is cool but Windows is user friendly, who feels lost within 2 years of “Coding”, who hates “programming” in anything other than .NET.

Only by considering your self as an empty pot can you fill more. This saying becomes all the more relevant when it comes to technology. I have realised that to think that you know some technology in and out is suicide. There is ALWAYS more to learn and the only finite constant. There is just not enough time. This is the dilemma and there is no way out…

MTV Roadies – Why I LOVE this show!

MTV Roadies is probably the best TV time I’ve got since the first “Contender” series on AXN. The human emotions are so unadulterated and raw. It takes a lot of guts or a moment of brainlessness to actually go and audition for this show. Not cuz the “judges” are so majorly oppressing and wannabe “mean” people (and go to any lengths to try and establish the same), but simply for being so open about some really deep dark secrets of your life. Be it the dumass who deserted his ex in some non-descript in the rape capital of India, Delhi or the guy who blackmailed his ex to extort money and maybe some revenge or even the really freakish Sonel from Delhi who supposedly “breathed fresh air” into the show or my favorite Simran/Ankita, India’s answer to Avril. But I would never participate in the show. No sir, not even for a million bucks or fame or anything of that sort! Simply because I just cannot be so naked infront of so many people, my emotions, my traits, my dark side…Its best kept to myself and best kept for myself! So hats of to you guys who’re actually doing it, it does take a lot of guts to reveal yourselves to us, every weeknight!

My experiments with lens

Land of the blessed

Beautiful poison

Stand out

Malgudi days…