Weirdest of the Weird

UPDATE (11/28): Abhi blogs about my love for dogs and encounter with the canine kinds.
Read An ode to Apoorva
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Yes. I need your opinion. I am entering the "weirdest of the weird look" photo competition. Ok, I am not, but I have spent a good part of my life figuring out which one of the following would be termed as the weirdest snap of the lot? As in, who looks crazily funny, or funnily crazy?

~CONSTIPATION~
5 glasses of Whiskey, 3 hour long conversations with Bird. The expression of "I have been constipated since the last decade"

~BODY CHANGE~
The "I just killed Veerappan, am currently using his body and I am enjoying it" look.

~ETERNAL DEVDAS~
2 sleepless nights, 4 hours of dancing in weird jhatku clothes, 7 shots tequila, 5 pegs of rum, the "I am the reincarnation of Devdas with one lock of hair on forehead" look

~HAND GLASS~
"I am so drunk, someone needs to keep my eyes open" look.




~CONTENTMENT~
"I just humped a fly" look.




~PAIN IN THE BUTT~
"I fell hard on my butt" look.



~BLISS~
Gallons of booze, lotsa smoke, "Bhiku Mhatre is my right hand and my moustache is the best" look.

I think I am kinda on and off blogging huge melodramatic posts for a while, so expect weird pictures FYE!

Oh, and your vote counts. Seriously.

Note: I have "weirder" snaps of few more people, but I am in a dilemma they might find it offensive if I put it up. So in case you are wondering why you are not featured here, thats the reason. If I have misinterpreted things, let me know and I shall put up your snap.

Laundry Insanity

I usually try not to post random observations about doing laundry or talking to the washing machine on the pretext that most people would not find it sane. But at 4 in the morning, the creative juices are flowing in that direction. So the topic of todays post: Laundry Machines are insane.

Now, people would refute that claim. And I would partially agree. At least the machines are sane enough not to root for the Baltimore Ravens, which makes me believe their anti-masochist synapses are firing.

The area where I live, in addition to playing loud music, busting people for having parties, attempting to climb down the fire escape, walking too fast, going to the bathroom too noisily and using the garbage disposal to dispose off gangstas without first asking permission also has the crappiest, partially functional, largest collection of laundry machines.

Last night I planned to get my laundry done. Well, I had to do laundry, so I said, "Lets do laundry". Fine. Call me impulsive. So about 11 PM I find myself at the laundromat, hoping to finish by 12:30 AM, sorting by 1 AM. But like it would happen, my dear friend decided to stop by at the laundromat. He is popularly known as Murphy.

Let me rewind a bit in time and give due credit to all characters who would play an important role in this drama. As I enter the mat (come on, I cant type L A U N D R O M A T all the time), I see this big fat lady, sitting behind the cashiers counter, chewing on a greasy burger, fries and XXL coke. She is watching some drama on TV, and acknowledges my presence with a nod, her eyes focussed on the TV. As I walk up to get quarters, she say, "That machine take only 20's", her eyes, still focussed on the screen.

Random Picture thrown in to wake up all males who were dozing off

Sadly, my hopes of saying good night by 1 AM were dashed like an 18 wheeler hitting an auto rickshaw. First, a washer malfunctioned. It decided to fill up and drain off, without taking a spin-o-tumble. The next washer seemed to be a distant cousin of the first one. Not only did it refuse to spin, but it refused to completely drain out leaving me with a pile of dirty wet clothes and drenching what I was wearing.

This is when the big fat lady let go of her greasydonald burger and fries, got a mop and dried the floor, her eyes still trained on the TV.

The annoying thing about side-load washers is there is no way to stop them once they start. If you realize within 5 minutes that something is gone awry, you have to wait till they are done the entire wash. So two broken machines and 90 minutes later, I finally got to one machine which was different from the rest of the family. This one did actually work, but by this time I was out of quarters and the machine which took 20's seemed to be in the same state as me. So very soon, I found myself with a greasy burger and $16 worth of change. For those of you who have not been able to comprehend, I did not buy the fat ladys half eaten burger for $4, but I walked up to the nearest eatery and bought a burger.

If that had been the end of it, I would have still considered it a good day (by general standards). But as you would have guessed, the first dryer I used malfunctioned. What really pissed me off was it seemed to work fine for the first 10 minutes as I stood there looking for any signs of deviance. From what I could tell, it stopped working the moment I stepped away. Fortunately I discovered of this failure in about 50 minutes, compared to the regular one hour. But I still have to transfer the load into another machine and wait.

To end it, I was done by 3, sorting and folding by 4. And if I sleep now, I will never get up to work in time. So I rather just type up this post, play rise of nations and bore the crap outta the first person who unblocks me on their messenger list!

Meantime, remember. Washing machines are insane. Dont marry one.

Super Sized....

Its America. Its land of the super-sized. On Sunday Kallu, Priya and myself headed down to Annapolis (Maryland) for an off-beat film festival. There was not much to say about the festival, but there was a lot to say about this regular sized coke float which Priya ordered at a restaurant near Annapolis waterfront. Lots to say.... and lots to eat!

Yes, we are still trying to figure out what the hell were they thinking.

36? 32? 28? License!

About April 2005.

They: "When do you think this would be up and running?"
X: "Earliest by December"
Me: "How about end October?"
X: "If its up by November, you get a trip to Florida"

October 2005.

X: "Impressive. Expect your Florida invite soon"
Me: *All smiles*

Invite I did get. To the next project initiation meeting. I dont get it. If you have to keep a formal meeting where you have to work, work and work some more.... why keep it in Orlando, Florida? Keep it in Nebraska. At least you are not feeling bad that you went all the way to Orlando and didnt see Mickey Mouse. You feel happy you came back alive from Nebraska. Keep all your corporate meetings in Nebraska. And go with your girlfriend to Miami. Its no rocket science.

So last weekend I was in Orlando (Lake Buena Vista to be precise) in the heart of disneyland. This is where we were put up, hop, skip and jump from disney downtown marketplace (pleasure island).

The weather was absolutely fantabulous. And we had to sit indoors amidst some 300 people!!!

I arrived and reached the auditorium for our dry run, hanging around with my boss and few other people when R walks up to me.

R: Apoorva, I have to do an introduction of all the company people. What should I put next to your name? Developer?
Me: Yeah, no problem (personally I am the kinda guy who wont care).
B: You should put senior Developer.
R: Ok, Sr. Developer. That works for you Apoorva?
Me: Yeah, no problem.
C: Hold on. Dont you head the validation team?
Me: Test Te....
B: But I thought he was into Data Management.
Me: Yeah... I wa...
D: Last time I introduced you to our clients as PM for XYZ study.
Me: Yeah, I know.

On the D-Day, as R walks through the introductory slide shows, it read
Apoorva - Sr. Developer/ Validation & Data Manager/ PM

I have never had a bigger identity crisis or more number of heads turn towards me with eyes which said, "Get a Life".

After the conference was done, my boss decided to call a review meeting (what better time to catch all the top brass at the same time). The good part about having the SVP in the meeting is, no matter how technical the meeting, beer and wine is free flowing. And after an hour, the discussion has shifted from statistics to Golf.

And with the SVP ready to foot the bill, some 10 of us headed to the most expensive restaurant around. During discussions, conversations drifted towards the age guessing game.

SVP, how old is he? *Everyone guesses* Answer = 50!!
My Boss, how old is he? *Everyone guesses* Answer = 44!!
Director of Oprations, how old is she? *Everyone guesses* Answer = 45!!

So it went on.....

Till they all looked at me.

"How old is Apoorva?"

R: I think 28.
A: Noooooo... at least 32.
B: I think 36.
A: Whats your age Apoorva? Tell me its 32! I have been guessing everyone correct till now.

By this time I had dug into my wallet and got my drivers license out.

"I know you guys aint gonna believe me if I tell y'all, so here, look for yourself"

A: "This says 2005"
Me: "Thats the year I got my license transferred to this state"
R: "OMG! 1979. He is just 26"

Silence all over.

R: "Apoorva, I am shocked"
Everyone: "We all are shocked"
Me: "Even I am shocked. Who said 36?"

Pic of group in Florida at "The Outback" (dont confuse with outback steakhouse)

Yesterday in a meeting, the discussion jumped to "What was ones age at his/her first date?"

J said, "Lets see, I went for my first date when I was 12. Thats back in 1976. Hey!!! Thats even before Apoorva was born."

Hmph!

Not Rich, Didnt Try, Almost Died

I'll Whip Your Head Boy, you know i will
I'll Whip Your Head Boy, with the back of the steal
I'll Whip Your Head Boy, you could cock up your pill
I'll Whip Your Head Boy, your ass could get killed

2 niggaz in the front, 2 niggaz in the back
thats 4 niggaz ridin' strapped in grandpa's Cadillac

- 50 Cent


Few hours back I went to watch "Get Rich or Die Trying".

Those of you who have not heard of it, its the 50 cent movie (basically about his life). Also, those who have not heard about it, this movie has some sort of controversy attached to it on promoting violence etc. And more, for those of you who have not heard about it, but rumours are that there was a shootout in some movie hall in Pennsylvania during this movie and one of muh brothers got killed.

Yeah, after the movie, I call everyone muh brother.

So I seat myself in the fourth row from the top and watch the movie. All muh brothers surround me and rap with me as the movie goes on. Till suddenly one of the brothers on the last row tease the sistahs. A few words fly across between them and then the sistahs with their brothers start walking out. As they reach the exit, the brother two seats behind me say somethin' which gets the holy brother with the sistahs all fired up.

Ok. Now I should start typing in the normal way that I do. Coz what follows is pretty life threatening.

This guy who was at the exit with the girls puts one hand inside his coat and takes out a cold piece of metal. Yeah, right. A gun! For some reason I found this all amusing. As we were going for the movie, my friend kept saying somethings gonna happen. Lots was happening. And then I realized everyone around me had hit the ground. The fat guy who couldnt fit himself onto one seat hd somehow managed to lie down in the row. The guy two seats behind me kept going, "Aw man, shit man" while I was thinking, "If you gonna shoot, you better not miss". Then like everyone else I ducked behind the seats, crawled out to the aisle and ran to the other exit and out.

I saw security walk to me. "Is all ok inside?" "I think some guys got a gun"

Now this security chap was funny. He started running inside. Then came running out.
"Did you say gun?"
"Yeah"
"Any shots fired?"
"I didnt hear any"

By this time all the people were running out.

Just when I thought life is routine and boring. Heh!

Anyways, it was a good movie. I think you guys should watch it.

After the movie I said to my friend:

"Not Rich. Didnt Try. Almost Died."

That could be the movie on my life.

Blank

The other day I landed up at work, did the customary login, heat up breakfast, fill up glass of water routine and started Outlook.

I see a mail from my boss, with no subject. I open the mail to find a completely blank mail. No text in the body. Bewildered, I walk into my boss's office. These days I dont call my boss over the phone, but rather walk across the building into his office. This is mainly for two reasons.

1. I love the look on his face when he watches me enter his room. Whenever I find some nice little bug in the product, I love to walk into his room and show off (to my delight and his fear). So the vision of a smiling faced Apoorva walking into his room makes him cringe. Coz he knows its some new complicated bug I am very happily gonna display. So that is reason number 1 why I walk into his office. Coz I love to spread fear!
2. Second reason. Walking = exercise. Makes me lose some weight.

But this time I walked in with a confused look on my face. This threw my boss into an endless loop of guesswork and panic as to what I would have to say. While actually I was the one trying to figure out what he wanted to say with a blank e-mail.

Anyways, to cut a long story short. It was all a mistake. But as I walked back from his office to mine, and during the rest of the day, I kept thinking how most of the people I know might react to a blank e-mail. For now I shall restrict this to my fellow bloggers (not all) and perhaps some commenters.

Imagine a blank mail. Completely blank mail, not even a name on it, lands up in the inbox of the following (Note: I have linked their names, if possible to an appropriate post/blog to prove my biased opinion). Here is my take on their initial reaction:



Bird: Blank. (Long Pause). Blank is another form of emptyness. Blank. (Long Pause). Blank is how my bus should be, when I board it in the morning. Blank is how my bus should be when I board it in the evening. Blank is how my boss's brain is. Blank. (Long pause) That is how my paycheck should be. Yes, all these should be like this blank email.

IdeaSmith: Ha! This has to be some dumb guy. I meant, some guy. When I say guy, its assumed they are dumb. I dont need to say dumb guy. Only a guy can be so stupid as not to write his name, not to write anything in the e-mail and send it to me. All these "mamas boys"! Their mama should have taught them how to create an email account first. After all its only a girl who can teach a guy how to send email in the correct fashion.

Note: I promise a hefty undisclosed amount (in the currency of your liking, or gold, or goat heads [for Bird]) to the one who can convince the above entity to start blogging again.

Anita: Why is this email blank? Why? I need to know why? How could anyone have sent me a blank email? How? I need to know how?

Winny: Blank email. Inspired me to write poetry. (Sung to the tune of mera jeevan kora kaagaz - apologies to non-Hindi speakers).

"Mera jeevan kora email
kora hee rehe gaya...
Jo likha thaa text mein,
"Send" se pehle kho gaya..."

Translate: (from a famous hindi song) My life, like a blank email, remains blank. What I wrote in the text box got lost before I hit send.


Abhi: First, let me define "blank". I dont think this email is blank. If you look beyond the superficial, you will find binary code. So this email is not blank, but a representation of Binary data which gives it the appreance of blankness in the cosmic consciousness.

Mahima: (We love Mahi, dont we guys?)
Ohhh... blank email. I loooooooooove blank emails. First it used to be guys giving me blank calls. Now they are sending me blank emails. Oh, these naughty boys. I hope they are hot! Hits reply Button, types "Hello, I am single". Hits send.

Iyer: Stares at blank mail for 10 minutes. Writes up a blog entry. "Hangover". This is an e-mail hangover. After reading sensible e-mails, and feeling you have replied to all of them, you get a blank email. This is nothing but an email hangover.

Pals: This is how the mind should be when one levitates. Blank. Blank your mind. Free your mind. Best email ever to have graced my inbox!

Medha: Hits reply button. Types, "IDIOT! Monkey!". Hits send. Rubs hands in glee. Says to herself, "Bongs Rock"

[Syracuse Specific - not everyone would get it]

Sharma (Amit): Hits reply button. Types, "I will beat you up!". Hits send. Picks his phone, dials my number, says, "Abbe Chu****, stop sending me blank mails". Hangs up.

Amrita: Forwards mail to Amey, Amit and myself, with the text, "Stephens Back!".

[End Syracuse Specific]

I cant think of one for Couchie, but since he had tagged me to come up with the 5th line of my 23rd post (which happened to be my first post of this year), I'll do him the honors. It goes:

"But consider all for entertainment only!"

So apt. Please consider everything on this blog for entertainment only. Specially this post.

November Rain

Its cold. Dead cold. The leaves have turned into a colorful haze, a flash of brilliance like the final act put up by an artiste, before the show ends. Very soon, the trees, like human skeletals seeking warmth will be covered by a deceiving white blanket. November is the month of deceit.

The first time I heard daylight savings kicks in, I was Happy about the fact I would get an extra hour to sleep on that particular day. Little did I realize that it would be dark when I wake up and dark when I leave work. Months of no freaking sunlight! It all starts from November.

Its that month when people say adios to the Margaritas, Sangrias, Mojitos and Daiquiris and adapt to the stiff Jack Daniels and hennessey. Outdoor shops wrap up their displays and the bright linen is replaced by darkness. The sun which used to liberate the city now resides behind the clouds, like a prisoner, ashamed to show his face.

And then the heavens decide to open up and it rains. Every season change is marked by rainfall. But I hate the rain which marks the end of Fall and start of Winter. This is the time I go into hibernation. Distance myself from the world, sulk away, write some morose posts, dream about the sun and the woman I had seen on Bondi Beach and wait for the evident.

Like GnR once wrote in their all time classic, November Rain:

"....do you need sometime, on your own,
Everybody needs sometime... all alone!"

If you ever have to break up with me, dont do it in the month of November. I might just kill myself!

I heart November.