When I felt like reading nerdy jokes.. :P

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Two scientists walk into a bar and the first one says, "I'll have some H2O."

The second one says, "I'll have some H2O, too." And then he dies!!!

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Argon walks into a bar.
The bartender says, "We don't serve noble gases here!"
Argon doesn't react....

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If a Pizza has a radius Z and a depth A, it's volume can be defined as Pi*Z*Z*A!!!!

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Yo momma is so ugly, not even Fluorine will bond with her!!

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Politicians think the glass would be more half empty if the opposition was in charge.
Engineers think the glass is twice as large as it needs to be.
Physicists know we don't know how much water is in the glass, because just by measuring it, you've changed the outcome.

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There are two types of people in the universe, those that can extrapolate from incomplete data and ....

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I'm tellin' ya, that elevator was so crowded, my electrons were touchin' each other!!

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Two Hydrogen atoms were walking down the street.

One atom trips and falls and says, "Ohh Noo... I think I lost an electron!"
The other atom replies, "are you sure?"
The first atoms exclaims, "I'm Positive!"

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Why do nerds always get Halloween and Christmas confused?
Because OCT 31 = DEC 25!!!

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A neutron walks into a bar. "I'd like a beer" he says. The bartender promptly serves up a beer.

"How much will that be?" asks the neutron. "For you?" replies the bartender, "no charge"..

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There are 10 kinds of people in this world:

Those who know binary code and those who don't..

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Bengaluru to Gurgaon, a la Murphy!! ;)

A week back, I came to a blistering hot Gurgaon with mom and dad. While the 2.5 hrs flight was pleasant, the food on board was pathetic. And then, as if to welcome a true blue Bangalorean, the Gods took pity and the weather remained Namma Bengaluru like; with rains, clouds, breeze and gentle sun. Dad left for home on Tuesday evening and the Gods decided to seek revenge. It’s been blistering hot again with lots of sun, heat, dust and sweat!!

Let me begin from the beginning. That Murphy’s laws come alive where Arundhathi Ganapathy is concerned is something I’ve come to accept over time. To begin with, the flat I’m supposed to share with 3 other girls would not be ready before 10^th of June and left me wondering how and where I should put up till then. One roomie-to-be who was planning to stay at her naani’s place till our flat became available invited me to join her there. It had not even sunk in that my problem was solved when it went for a toss; her naani got unexpected guests and there was no place for me.

Now, thanks to dad’s colleague’s daughter, my parents and I were staying at the daughter’s friend’s place. They were two brothers, both bachelors and working. When my roomie-to-be’s naani got unexpected guests, it meant I was required to find an accommodation for 2-3 weeks or stay on at this nice guy’s place. Land rates are exorbitant at Gurgaon just like in proper Electronic city or White field area back home and I had to shell out 3 months’ rent for a PG or a single room flat even to stay for 2-3 weeks. When we couldn’t find a reasonable deal anywhere, mom agreed to extend her leave till I moved in to our flat.

I feel way too guilty thinking of mom’s predicament and despite her claims about family being important than anything else and all that, I feel bad about not being able to do anything about it. I mean I feel good she is here when I’m back from college and I can yap away to glory about everything that happened through the day and we even go on walks every evening to catch some warm (yup, warm and sometimes even hot but never cool) breeze. I even get good mom-made food unlike my PG counterparts and just today, mom and I went to see the very loveable Captain Jack Sparrow in 3D!! Did I tell you? The place I’m staying now is about 10-15 min from college thanks to Sridharan (Delhi Metro, I mean) and is just a 5 min walking distance away from the umpteen multiplexes and malls of MG Road.

Oops, I nearly forgot!! Mom has predicted that I shall not be returning back to Namma Bengaluru post MBA after visiting MG road and the countless malls here. Lol, I’ll return for sure but yeah, I sure am crazy about malls and multiplexes. I strongly believe they are a perfect blend of the modern man’s intellect, creativity, money and a sense of appreciation of whatever one can see, hear, read, wear and taste.. :P

Coming back to where I was, I was really uncomfortable about having to stay with 2 strangers, bachelors too and so, mom’s staying on till I move into my flat. Anyways, while dad was still here, the three of us visited the college and also the flat I’d be staying in. It was a beautiful Sunday last week and we had a heavy masala dosa breakfast thanks to mom and Rajesh, the younger of the brothers at our place. When the great weather continued, we decided to visit the Akshardham temple. Unfortunately for us, about 10000 others also felt as we did and had landed at Akshardham before us. After a 40 min Metro journey, we had time and place to have a cup of tea and biscuits at the counter next to Akshardham gate before returning home.

To continue with the Murphy’s laws, I got a sim card from the Airtel vendor at college. But due to some technical complications, I’ve neither got the number nor is the sim activated which means I have to use my Bengaluru number on roaming. When I could not stop worrying about this month’s bill, I finally gave in and got mom a basic handset and a prepaid connection. At least we can be reached without having to worry about incoming tariff!! :D

There have been many more such instances like some problem while connecting to SOIL Wi-Fi at college which I alone faced and required a good 5 ex-IT, tech savvy classmates to rectify. The seniors hosted a rocking freshers’ party that I had to miss. I was guilty enough for troubling mom and did not have the heart to leave her home alone. When I sometimes catch her conversation when some deputy colleague of hers is discussing some work related stuff on phone with her, I can’t help cringing but sorry mommy, I’m really helpless!! :(

Thinking of all this, I can’t believe a week has already passed. I’ll get in touch with all of you ASAP and I mean as soon as I get my own cell phone connection. The college part of this week shall be a different blog altogether.

Till then.. Mwaah, love ya… :)

Harsha Bhogle's note after Ind-SA match

Remember when you failed an examination. How many people recall that, your class, friends, relatives? You failed to make it to the IITs or IIMs. Who remembers. How many times have you had the feeling of being the best in your class, school , university, state….., you failed to get a visa stamped this quarter…, you missed a promotion this year…, how did it feel when you dad told you in your early twenties that you are good for nothing…..and now your boss tell you the same....
You keep introspecting and go into a shell when people most of whom don’t matter a dime in your life criticize you, back bite you, make fun of you. You are left sad and shattered and you cry when your own kin scoffs at you. You say I am feeling low today. It takes a lot from us to come out of these everyday situations and move on. A lot??? really?
Now here’s a man standing on the third man boundary in the last over of a world cup match. The bowler just has to bowl sensibly to win this game. What the man at the boundary sees is 4 rank bad bowls bowled without any sense of focus, planning or regret. India loses, yet again in those circumstances when he has done just about everything right.
He does not cry. Does not show any emotion. Just keeps his head down and leaves the field. He has seen these failures for 22 years now. And not just his class, relatives, friends but the whole world has seen these failures. We are too immature to even imagine what goes on in that mind and heart of his. That’s why I would never want to be Sachin.
True, he has single handedly lifted to moods of this entire nation umpteen number of times. He has been an inspiration to rise above our mediocrity. Nobody who has ever lifted the willow even comes close to this man’s genius. His dedication and mental strength is unparallel. This is specially for those people who would have made fun of him again last night when India lost. They are people who are mediocre in their own lives. Who just scoff at others to create cheap fun. Who have lived in a small hole throughout their lives and thought they have seen the oceans.
Think about the man himself. He is 37 years of age. He has been playing almost non stop for 22 years. The way he was running and diving around the field last night would have put 22 year olds to shame. The way he played the best opening quickies in the world was breathtaking. He just keeps getting better which is by the way humanly impossible. Its not for nothing that people call him GOD.
But still I don’t want to be in those shoes. We struggle in keeping our monotonous lives straight, lives which affect a limited number of people. Imagine what would be the magnitude of the inner struggle for him, pain both mental and physical, tears that have frozen with time, knees and ankles and every other joint in the body that is either bandaged or needs to be attended to every night, eyes that don’t sleep before a big game, bats that have scored 99 international tons and still see expectations from a billion people.
And he just converts those expectations into reality. We watch in awe, feel privileged.Well I think its time that his team realizes that enough is enough. They have an obligation, not towards their country alone but towards sachin. They need to win this one for him. Stay assured that he himself will still deliver and leave no stone unturned to make sure India wins this cup.
This is not just a game, and he is not just a sportsman. Its much more than this. Words fail here.....

Note: This was apparently a note by India's leading sports commentator Harsha Bhogle after the disastrous Ind-SA match, World Cup 2011. Truly genuine, heartfelt and echoed by the teeming millions across the country when Dhoni and Co. (save for the GOD) offered a winning match to SA, on the proverbial silver platter!!

ONLY THE BRITS COULD HAVE INVENTED THIS LANGUAGE!!!

ONLY THE BRITS COULD HAVE INVENTED THIS LANGUAGE!!!

We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men,
Then shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?
If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those,
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
And the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!

Let's face it - English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger;
neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren't invented in England ..
We take English for granted, but if we explore its paradoxes,
we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square,
and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing,
grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham?
Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend.
If you have a bunch of odds and ends
and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English
should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.

In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?
We ship by truck but send cargo by ship.
We have noses that run and feet that smell.
We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway.
And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,
while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
in which your house can burn up as it burns
down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out,
and in which an alarm goes off by going on.

And, in closing, if Father is Pop, how come Mother's not Mop?

I WOULD LIKE TO ADD THAT IF PEOPLE FROM POLAND ARE CALLED POLES THEN THE GERMANS SHOULD BE CALLED GERMS!!!

Note: No offense meant but found this on the net and felt it was a funny read...

RIP, Uncle Pai...

"The worth of a book is to be measured by what you can carry away from it.

- By James Bryce

My journey with Amar Chitra Katha began even before I could talk and read. It began when I was a mere toddler crawling on fours all over my grandparents’ house. My granny strongly believed that book reading habit should be instilled in children as early as possible and as a result, the house was strewn with Amar Chitra Katha comics even when I could barely talk. She would show the colored pictures and narrate the stories of Rama, Krishna, Abimanyu and other mythological figures. As I grew up, I would spend hours together seeing the pictures and eventually reading the comics myself.

My first Tinkle copy was a gift from my mom dad when I stood second for the school in my first grade final examination. I’ve been a regular subscriber to this day and still enjoy the comic capers of Suppandi and Shikari Shambu. While Uncle Anu and Tinkle Tells You Why greatly appealed to the geeky me since I was a kid, the cheeky antics of Ramu Shamu and Anwar had me in splits. I would genuinely feel sorry for Chamataka and his partner in crime Doob Doob, every time Kalia outwitted them to save the sprightly Keechu and Meechu. I hated Tantri, the Mantri with all my heart, for trying to harm the loveable King Hooja.

I was always awed by the imagination of children like myself when I read their stories published in each issue. I secretly wished my name was published too and wrote letters after letters dreaming of the day I could show off my name and address published in the comic to my friends.

A very old edition of Tinkle first introduced me to the word “Tsunami” and I was fascinated by the power of waves. I even remember the Japanese folk tale associated with the phenomenon, which was mentioned in the issue. My family and I remembered this, years later, when the fateful Tsunami stuck our very own coast.

The greatest moment of my life was when I met Uncle Pai in person. This was sometime in Jan 2009 when Amar Chitra Katha conducted a quiz on Indian Mythology in schools across the country. The first round was conducted at individual schools and the top 15 of each participating school in that round were qualified to the regional round at Woodlands Hotel, Bangalore. Though I lost out in that regional round, I remember the hundreds of teenaged Amar Chitra Katha enthusiasts like myself looking forward to participating and winning the comic hampers. And not to mention, each semi finalist got to shake hands with Uncle Pai himself. When I requested him for an autograph, he laughed heartily, signed my prize copy (Amar Chitra Katha’s Lal bahadur Shastry) and said, “Do something for the country like this great man”.. I was on the seventh heaven for almost weeks after that.

It came as a shock today morning to read in the newspapers that our beloved Uncle Pai (17 September 1929 – 24 February 2011) is no more. It was funny, the way we were aware of Uncle Pai and never knew his real name for ages - Anant Pai. We referred to him as Uncle only, like some fond relative whose visit we always looked forward to. Albeit in the form of a 30 page comic book, once a fortnight!!

To the simple bespectacled man I met about 12 years back, who was responsible for making my childhood more memorable than it could have been otherwise, who was my role model on par with Enid Blyton, who was indirectly instrumental in turning me into an avid book lover and who is the beloved Uncle to thousands of children who grew up anywhere in the last three decades.. Rest in Peace, Uncle Pai!!

Paighaam laya saawan….

I don’t know if I’m merely reading between lines or if truly there is something called signs!!

I hate Mondays even in the best of my moods. I suffer from Monday blues all the way till 3 pm on a regular working Monday and today was worse than usual.

This monday morning began with my almost missing my office shuttle and the relief when I made it, kept me from catching my usual forty winks.

I’d fought with a close friend for no apparent reason over the weekend and we were still feeling raw about it.

As I entered my ODC, my manager motioned me to join a call that I could not make heads or tails of. This was followed by a meeting with my lead and my manager where I began with a volley of complaints and problems. Uff, my week never had begun this bad!!

The day somehow dragged on and while I was groping over a particularly tricky code implementation, I suddenly went blank. It was around 7.00 in the evening and I’d already reached my daily quota of saturation. On a usual day, I’d take a walk outside my office building when I feel saturated; the cool breeze and moon have a good effect in clearing my head. Today, I just picked my bag on an impulse and caught the 7.30 bus home.

Surprisingly, the bus was quite empty and I got a window seat. I randomly chose a song on my iPod and it turned out to be my favorite – Chaiyya chaiyya from Dil Se..

I slowly began to relax and as the bus moved out of EC and on the elevated Hosur road flyover, I realized the heat was stifling and that was part of my discomfort unconsciously. I wished for a cool breeze and as if in summons to my wishes, the strong smell of earth instantaneously filled the air and within seconds, heavenly droplets of water started falling everywhere.

As the heat dissipated, I kind of calmed down and eventually started humming along with Sukhwinder Singh’s raspy vocals. The change gradually put me in an introspective mood and I started going over the day’s events. The song changed to Shaan’s Paighaam laya saawan, yet another favorite.

Then I don’t know what happened; it was as if a voice from within spoke, that I was doing my best at work and if that was not enough, fretting would be of little help. For one and for all, I had to stop taking it all personally and, forcibly ensure family and office remain separate without interference. And the best sentence of all – today might have been bad; but thank God for that, it could have been worse!!

The rain, the songs and that voice within managed to put everything in perspective. And so simply at that, while a conscious effort would undoubtedly have been tedious.

There is always a silver lining. We just need to look more carefully. From different perspectives. And voila, the sentimental side of me took over – truly a paighaam from saawan…

IYER POEM.. A time line of an Iyer life!!

Age: 6 Months
All these mamas and maamis have come here...
For a grand welcome of their new born fellow Iyer...
And my parents will feed food to me with a ring...
And give me a name long enough for you to sing...
(Krishnamurthy Venkataraghava Krishna Doraiswamy,
but will simply call me Dorai!)

Age: 10 years
Topping my class is an inborn talent I possess
(We are an exception)
Teachers & relatives, whom I never fail to impress
Daily dosage of idli, dosai, sambar, rice and curd
Who on earth do you think will not turn into a nerd! (hehe)

Age: 22 Yrs
(Just after graduation.. . preferably Electronics Engineering)
Yipeee Yipeee Yipeee... I completed my BE in IIT...
Also got a call from Infy... Ya right...Narayana Murthy...
( Proud fellow...Southie ! )
Up & Away to Bangalore by the next morning flight...
And then someday to USA... Yay Yay Yay... Onsite. ..
(You are right... rhyming no?!)

Age: 26 Years
(Single status in USA)
It has been four long years since I have come here...
And not a single girl who is ready to come near...
Here in United States, I thought I'd get laid...
Down came crashing, all dreams that I'd made...

Age: 30 Years
(8 yrs Onsite, somewhere in USA)
I miss my sambhar rice and the tasty thair saadam (curd rice)
Will speak to amma to find me a homely madam...
Will leave for Thirunelveli on a 30 day leave...
And come back with a maami right up my sleeve...

Age: 45 Years
(Still onsite, we think)
I have two kids, but there is a gripping fear...
Both of them have no signs of being an Iyer...
Krishnaswamy & Sreemaha*lakshmi* I named them fondly...
But Chris & Sally I call them if I want them to even reply...

Age: 60 Years
(retire hogaya baap)
I am back to Thirunelveli with my ever faithful wife...
But my kids stayed there and think I don't have a life...
Tirupati, Guruvayoor, Shabarimala all we've been to...
Sun TV is our faithful friend which we always turn to...

Age: 75 years
(Now everything seems impossible)
Ayyayyo, what happened to all my dreams?
They have all simply turned into screams.
Children have already married and divorced thrice,
Playing with our grandchildren would've been nice.
Left with us are only aches and pains,
Life is full of only losses, with no gains.
Are we going to be the last of the brilliant Iyer generation?
To our chidren, tradition and culture are only a botheration!

Best regards
A Tamil Brahmin Iyer!!


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Note: This is not my original poem. I came across this while browsing and putting the same on my blog so I can read and have a good laugh when ever I feel like it.
The original poem link: http://www.indusladies.com/forums/poems-and-poets-place/27840-iyer-poem-time-line-iyer.html