Random muse-4: The beggar child

Today, when auto stopped at another red light
She came towards me and held out her tiny palm
Because I usually get upset by such pitiful sights...
...I turned away my face and pretended to stay calm
Pat!
She hit me hard on my arm and it left a small black stain
I was too shocked to react and she laughed and ran away
Maybe she just wanted me to feel a bit of her pain...
...Or maybe she was teaching me a lesson for being so vain

As soon as I came back, I washed my arm twice
But some dirt on me still remains.

Book Review-1: Life of Pi

The Review:

This book is not for the weak-hearted. And if you are a hardcore vegetarian, you might feel like puking at least once during the course of the book. As the title of the book suggests, the book is about life of Pi Patel (quite an interesting story behind his name), a sixteen year old lad who gets marooned on a lifeboat with no one less than a Bengal Tiger. The novel revolves around who Pi is as a person, the importance of religion, family and animals (his father owns a zoo) in his life and how he changes or adheres to his beliefs. Most importantly, the book is about the struggle of survival and the extent to which the man can go to not let himself die.
The first and the third parts of the book are interesting with undertones of humor here and there but it’s the second part of the book that requires a Herculean reading effort. To sum up in one word—the second part is ‘disgusting’. And that is the brilliance of the book. It is so well written that the words are as vivid as images...and when you finish this fabulous first-person narrative, you feel you have known Pi for at least ten years...if not more.

Rating:

8.6/10

Why I read this book?

There are two reasons:
One, the book won the Man Booker Prize 2002.
Second, my sister told me that (as it is also written in the book); Pi’s story may make me believe in God and religion.
Pi follows nearly all religions. I still follow none.

Next read:

HOMGKGWAGAL

You get what you deserve...

In most of the MIS classes, had I not been sleeping or daydreaming or doin

this

I might not have got D+ in end-term.
Hooray! First 'D'scored!
(Yes, I am a bit crazy!)

First 'A' remains elusive though.

Mumbai bleeds...

...and how does it affect a person living in Delhi? Not much, believe me. You hear the news, try calling your known ones (if any) who are in Mumbai and once you are sure that everybody you know is safe, the news is as good as any newspaper headline with a shelf life of a day. Politicians in us may talk of terrorist activities, economists in us may talk of Mumbai (still) being the commercial capital, optimists in us may talk of undying spirit of the city, humans in us may say a little prayer too...but at the end of the day, if TV news channels didn’t show the gory images of dead, mangled bodies and newspapers didn’t write in their emotion-evoking best, you might not have felt half as sorry. I know this all seems very rude but do you care about Srinagar? Lebanon? Israel? Palestine? Iraq? Do you care about the fact that you only seem to care because media constantly reinforces that you should?
The point I am trying to make here is that most of us (including me, of course) are quite selfish in nature. Every tragedy comes with an expiration date. Till something does not directly affect us, it does not bother us in a major way. And it should not. Dying is one end...we all will die someday...and there are no precautions against death...but to live this life in a constant fear of death is something worse...something many Mumbaikars will be experiencing right now...
So, if you want to, empathize with the living in Mumbai and not the dead...and pray that you may never need to step in their shoes. Ever.

WC Final tid-bits

I am not a big fan of football but the enthusiasm is contagious. Big screen was set up in campus and it had to rain. Among my zillion unsporting characteristics, one of them is I absolutely abhor getting wet in rain. Still, I hanged on till half-time...then went up to my room and kept tab of rest of the match on FIFA website (it gives automatic minute by minute update...amazing!)

My cousin (aged 14) always supports the weaker team. He says that when the underdog wins its more entertaining. He was pitching for Italy in the final match.
My other cousin (aged 37) always complains about India not having a soccer team. His persistent argument is, “If Ghana has one, why not India?” Then invariably he will start criticizing Indian education system and laid-back attitude of Indians. He could have made a difference had he not been living in USA.

A day before the match, ‘yagna’ was conducted and prayers were said for Italy. Because a pseudo-PM’s ex-nation was in the final, some Hindu Gods can definitely help Italy win. They did. Interesting. Can happen only in India.

Most sports are more of mental strategies rather than physical efforts. Every team knows only one will ultimately win and no team spares efforts to be that one. Slurs and shoves are part of the game. So are red cards. So are heart-broken and happy nations. So is the fact that winning team is forgiven everything and the team that loses is dissected publicly by the media. Really, ninety minutes can make a lot of difference.

I believe that the biggest of misfortunes become forgettable after five years. Time is a wonderful healer, though Zidane won’t agree with me.

I am confused...Hey move on...nothing new here

Q: Why am I doing an MBA?
A: Don't know

Q: What will I be specializing in?
A: Don't know(still)

Q: What are my long term and short term goals?
A: Don't know

Q: What are the two words I have known my entire life?
A: Don't know

But believe me, I wasn't born this way...that time I was very clear I wanted to be born...its just that I didn't know what to do after then...

Random muse-3: She kills sans knife

She does not murder me but I feel dead
She is the one who I will forever dread
She makes me want to take a drowning dive
She is the reason that today I don’t feel alive
She has made me so weary and sad
She will be the reason if I go mad
She might defend herself with global warming tautology
But seriously, Ms. Delhi Heat, you owe me an apology.