I'm Melting!
Living in the UK for the past two years has really made me go soft. Well, pun intended. I admit, I have put on the odd pounds here and there, but to my credit, I am on the way to shedding a lot of it. I've already lost around 6 kgs from the start of this year. Its a slow and arduous path filled with succulent temptations, but one must at least attempt to look good for the wedding album.
What I mean about going soft is how I've acclimatized to the UK weather. Not only do I incessantly talk about the weather, like the British usually do, I've also developed hardly an tolerance for extreme heat. And in this particular case, I'm talking about a sweltering 25 degrees Celsius. I'm not joking. I'm really sweating here. The highest it hit here was around 31 degrees last week and boy did I want to go skinny dipping. Hardly a pleasant sight, but it would have been useful nonetheless. I installed ForecastFox on my Firefox browser and had some fun setting up different profiles of all the places that mean something to me. And to my shock and horror, 25 is the lowest temperature. Trivandrum has a high of 30 degrees this week. Bangy has 28 degrees and Al Ain in the UAE has a whopping 43 degrees. Blistering Barnacles!!! How on earth am I going to go home? Will I be in TVM, dressed in my mundu and jiba and sweating buckets during the wedding?
I remember the KGP days of sweltering 47 degrees with 90% humidity, and us lads would be lounging around in the wing dressed only in our undies...And praying for sweet relief under the useless whirring fans...I'd promised myself that I'd never change after coming to the UK, but I think I have.
Push! Push! Push!
Contrary to the first image that pops into your head when you read the title of this post, NO, this post is not about anyone giving birth.
I've been jogging every day now for the past two months and I've never really crossed the 30 minute barrier. After a tip off from my boss who runs marathons, I decided to ditch the tread mill, as well as the university campus perimeter circuit. I decided to venture into the country side and run aimlessly in the fields in a general circular route. This Saturday, I kitted up in a particularly revealing tshirt, skimpy shorts and shades, grabbed a bottle of Lucozade and headed towards the canal near my house. I made sure I stretched properly and set off along the canal. Now I half expected to quit in around 15 minutes and head home. I normally get these chronic shin aches when I run on the road. However, I stuck to running on the grassy paths all along the canal. It was really gorgeous. I've never really looked at the canal and the things on it. My interest normally ended at the different pubs located on the canal. But while jogging, I got to see so much more. Luckily I was carrying my handy Samsung D500 and snapped pics on the route. There were really nice little houses on the canal with beautiful gardens.
As the canal started bending towards Galgate and out of Lancaster, I cut across the canal and scaled a fence surrounding a farm. I ran down the narrow hedge path and everything seemed to be flying past me at thrice the speed.
I then burst into a lush green field where sheep grazed lazily. I gave quite a few of them a scare and they all gamboled off away from this sweaty strange beast.
In the distance I could make out the red brick warehouses on the docks of the River Lune and I cut across the field in that general direction. I ended up in a quiet residential area with children playing on the streets on little tricycles. As I ran past them, some of these little brats started chasing me on their three wheeled roadsters. Luckily for me, I wasn't in danger of being smothered by little kids and out ran the toddlers. I lost sight of the docks and got lost in the housing estate. After running around in circles(literally), for a while I managed to find the river.
The sun was out and it was glorious. It had been raining on this side of the river and a rainbow was out.
By this time I was completely spent, but I refused to stop. If Alex, 33 could do it, I could do it. If Abey Uncle, 50 could do it, I could do it. I ran along the river till the bridge and then weaved through traffic and the city to head back home. The last stretch was pure torture. The road to my house is a steep 50 degree incline. I picked up my pace to climb the hill and I kept saying "Push!, Push, Push" in my head. I burst over the hill and I could see that I had only another 200 m to go. My legs, my chest, were burning and were on fire. Everything else around me ceased to exist and all I was thinking of was "Push!, Push!, Push!" and I didn't realise that I started to say it out loud. I was just steaming ahead on the pavement and people swept aside to make way for me. Quite a few of them had startled looks on their faces as I surged past them. And finally, I reached home and staggered inside and fell onto my sofa. God. Home sweet home.
Its only when I finally opened my eyes and got off the sofa that waves of pain flooded me. I lowered myself into a hot bath and sat there wallowing in pleasure. Never before has a hot bath been so relaxing. I love that feeling, of pain and then you keep pushing your body beyond its endurance and the only thing that makes your body listen is your mind. And after a point, the pain sort of subsides but your mind gets consumed by wanting to give up. Its wonderful to have that war in your mind between your will and your body.
Did I mention that I ran for 1 hour non-stop? Next years marathons, here I come!!
Things I'd Like to Do on My Stag Weekend
Day 1 :
Arrive at Destination (unknown as of now).
Check in at hotel.
Go out with the lads and get pissed while doing a bar crawl.
Hopefully make it back to the hotel and pass out.
Day 2:
Wake up and have a full English breakfast and line our bellies with lots of greasy stuff to help us through the rest of the day.
Tackle a quad biking obstacle course or beat my friends on a Grand Prix karting track and have some great motorized fun. If its possible, a 4x4 off road race would be cool too.
Head off into the woods and test our combat skills in a paintball war.
Come back to the hotel and wash off the paint and grit and grime and dress to kill.
Hit the bars again and top off the night with a trip to a strip club ( not for me, for my guests only...The lads will need some raunchy fun)
Once again, IF I'm not hammered and IF I'm not chained to a lamp post and IF I'm not stripped naked, head back to the hotel and pass out again.
Day 3:
Wake up to another glorious morning and have our fill of breakfast.
Have a go at Clay Pigeon Shooting.
Head to the beach and experience some exciting water sports. I'd really fancy jet skiing, wakeboarding, kayaking and parasailing.
Have a relaxed late lunch/ early dinner and head back on the long journey home.
Woah! What a party that's going to be!!! Frosty, you'd better come close to this. Commiserations to everyone who can't make it here.
My Wedding Guests
Its going to be insane. I've been emailing friends and trying to confirm if they are turning up for the wedding and I'm quite delighted with the number of guys who have confirmed that they are coming. Tokas my dearest buddy will be definitely turning up and I'm in the process of arguing with my dad to permit a Jat to be my best man. Others from my wing who will be making it are Parul and Bhomia. Parul's flying in to Bangalore (courtesy of Bhomia...Apparently Bhomia has no idea what to do with his 50k monthly salary) and they're both coming to TVM together. Hopefully good old Debu will be able to make it there in one piece after his harrowing experience on a mucky oil rig in war-torn Eritrea. Others from Bangy will be my favourite seniors; PJ master Prabal, Sage Debananda, Cell-phone phobic Dijam, GE's Shooting Star Anandraj, The King of Letch Amol, Casanova Ruchir and Sensible Bana.
I got a wonderful surprise when two of my oldest friends, who go all the way back to my school days confirmed that they are coming. Terrence and Clarence have already booked their tickets, which makes them the first 200% confirmed arrivals. Its amazing how time flies. I remember going to Terrence's class when I was in grade 8 and we used to play wall squash with a tennis ball and our bare palms. The stuff we got upto back then is just amazing. I remember us sitting on their terrace on the roof, drinking beer and saying how many "non-males" there were in KGP. Little did I know, that I'd go back to KGP and fall for Ani. Sajid, my old-nemesis-but-converted-friend will also be coming down from Hyderabad.
From the RSF gang, there's a pretty poor showing. Only Koshy will be able to make it. Though I don't see what excuse Bunty has. From the UK, old Frosty Steve is still vacillating. I need to be able to get him a good flight deal and drag his ass all the way to mallu land. Moiz will be flying in with Kevin, who is in Mauritius. Hopefully, Kevin's not going to get lost in India. Trivandrum club is probably bigger than the whole of Mauritius. The only babe who is coming for me is the gorgeous Yerke all the way from Kazhakhstan. Yes people. You're forgiven for looking that up in an atlas. I had no clue where exactly it was either apart from being somewhere in Asia.
Frosty is organizing my Stag Do. We're coinciding it with the night that Ani flys off to India. Hehehe. Us lads won't be missing her too much for that weekend, if Steve does it right ;) Tokas and SAS are planning on coming to Europe during those two weeks and hopefully will be able to join me for the Stag Do. Awesome stuff. I can't wait. Things are finally happening and just barely 57 days left. Bring it ON!!!
My new house
We've finally completed the move to our new house. The rent is hitting my pocket harder, but its a house that I'm finally proud to call "my home". Its on a steep hill which makes parallel parking a flipping nightmare. Not being a male chauvinistic pig, but honey, Ani, if I'M finding it difficult, YOU sure as hell ain't going to be even ATTEMPTING to park it. She's managed to scratch all four corners of my beautiful Pirate Black Honda Accord on level ground, so on a hill is out of the question. Back to the house...sheesh...I've got an attention span like a rabbit on heat...Speaking of which, I'm looking forward to shooting some rabbit and grilling it over my new barbecue... Oh yeah baby... After two years of using disposable barbecues, I'm the proud new owner of my very own barbecue grill. There's something about barbecuing that brings out the cave man in all of us... Man create FIRE...Man cook MEAT...Man feed woman...woman grateful to MAN...Woman shows APPRECIATION ;)
Right...My house...Its a lovely little house and so much more tastefully decorated than the old place. And I've completely fallen in love with the bathroom. I don't think I've ever been to a nicer bathroom EVER! Now when you get to shit in luxury, you know you've made it. And just when I thought that everything was PERFECT, I stepped into the shower cubicle to have a shower. The dream had to end somewhere. It might as well have happened then, when I was standing shivering in the morning, butt naked. As you turn the dial of the shower anti-clockwise, the most soul wrenching noise occurs. The whole cubicle rattled and shook like there was an inter-galactic war taking place outside my window. It was audible all over the house. Something seriously was wrong. I tried being gentle with the shower and turned the dial slowly and gently and quite imperceptibly. No use. I tried the brute force method and just kicked and banged and turned the dial roughly. No use. Right. Sod it. Take a cold shower. I got the plumber in a day later and the fat stupid man just stood there scratching his head, saying gibberish like "Ummmm", "ahhhh", "blimeey". He turned around and said "Sorry mate, I know its a bit inconvenient, but you've gotta live with it. Unless you want me to take out the whole wall and see what's happening with the piping inside." For Fucks sake!!! Do you expect me to wake up everyday to this incessant droning pipe roar when Ani goes in for a shower? Do you expect me to jump out of my skin every time anyone turns on a hot water tap? Do you expect me to flipping have a cold water shower EVERY BLOODY DAY??? Apparently so. Dickwad. Useless people. The plumbers, the electricians, the carpenters, any labourer here is plain useless. Bring some of them from India and they'll teach these lot a heck of a lot, and at one tenth the cost.
Apart from my hot water troubles, everything else is just fine and dandy.
Yak, Yak, Yak, Yak, Yak, Yak, Yak!!!!
"Did you take the garbage out? Who left the seat up? What are you thinking about? Are you listening to me?" We all know the drill -- you come home from a night out with the guys and before you can make it to the john to evacuate those last few beers, it starts.
It wasn't always like this, was it? She used to laugh while she wiped away the sloppy joe that missed your mouth. And she thought it was cute when you walked around the house in your tightie whities. Well of course she did, at least that's what she wanted you to think. But as we all know, the female species is smart, if not genius, and your woman knew that she had to suppress her desires to voice her disgust at your obvious immaturities long enough to get you hooked. Now that you're squirming, you could be in trouble.
Let's face it; most women are always going to nag, and most men are always going to cheat. It is, quite simply, human nature. So since we know that she's going to nag for no apparent reason anyway, we might as well try to understand why women do what they do and find some way to deal with it.
Don't start feeling guilty just yet because chances are that her nagging has very little to do with you.
Female nature: Most women nag because it is in their nature to do so. They grew up watching most of the women around them doing it and were taught that it was the best way to handle men and their occasional inability to function on a normal human level.
The big picture: Sometimes women nag over some seemingly insignificant thing in order to work their way onto larger issues. She knows that it is going to get you peeved and plans on using that anger later to bring up whatever it is that is really bothering her.
She's a little loopy: Have you ever thought that perhaps she's just plain crazy? I know that it's hard to accept, but when it comes down to it most women are at least mildly psychotic, if not full-blown lunatics. So remember, if she is indeed a wacko, when the nagging starts, don't push her to the point of dismembering your favorite member.
A female nagger can be classified in one of four groups:
The Innocent: This is the one nagger that doesn't really mean to nag. She brings up problems that she has to make you aware of, but tries to do so without making you angry or starting an argument. Chances are her intentions are good, she just needs a little work on her approach.( Ani slots into this category)
The Chatterbox: This nagger never seems to stop. But her nagging rarely escalates into real fights because you've probably learned to effectively zone her out (just don't let her catch you).
The Riddler: Ah, the nagger that nags without nagging (say that five times fast). She says things like, "Would you like to try and guess why the green plates are not in the cabinet?" You have no idea what she's talking about and she knows it, otherwise why would she be asking in the first place?
The T-Rex: If she doesn't rip your head off while screaming at you, you got away lucky. It seems as though she actually grows horns when the nagging starts, the room gets a little darker, you know it's coming and there's no place to run. Scientific studies conducted have shown conclusive evidence that she may very well be one of Satan's minions.
How can you handle it?
Anticipate it
If you're coming home late and didn't call, be ready for it when you walk through the door. Bring her flowers and tell her that you had to drive around for hours trying to find a place that's still open.
Most women give off signals when they're unhappy. If she gets unusually silent, ignores you, or just seems generally different, it's about to hit the fan.
Listen to her. Whether you want to believe it or not, most women will generally tell us at least once or twice what it is that they are ticked about; we just don't hear them because they speak in a special code that only other women can understand. But if you listen really closely, you might get enough out of what she's saying to try to save yourself some of the hassle.
Deal with it
The zone-out method. We all do this subconsciously, you just have to learn to develop the talent to a point where she won't notice you're doing it. This is where you simply nod, smile and agree with her while not hearing a single word she says. In one ear, out the other. Just learn to be responsive to the phrase "Are you listening to me?" But if she says, "What did I just say?" you're on your own buddy.
The "You're right" method. This one gives you the element of surprise. As soon as she starts in, you beat her to the punch. "I know sweetheart, I should have mowed the lawn last week, sometimes I don't even know why I forget to do these simple things." She will probably be so amazed at the words, that she'll let you off the hook so you can get back to ESPN.
Avoid it
Do something unexpected and counteract any nagging that may potentially be on the way, kind of like stocking up on anti-nag fluid.
Try to figure out what she's angry about before she tears into you, and fix it. If you're proactive she won't have anything to gripe about and you can move onto more important things like the Packers game.
Break it off. If the nagging gets to a point where you just can't take it anymore, then it might be time to let go. There is no use in beating a dead dog; chances are that you both already know it's over, and maybe that is one of the reasons she is griping so much.
putting it all together
Like I mentioned before, your woman is going to nag no matter what; that is just one of the prices you are going to pay in a serious relationship. So, it's really up to you to decide how long you can deal with it, or if it's worth dealing with at all. Remember; you have to accept her and all of her imperfections if you really want to keep her around.
source: Askmen.com by Philip Gordon
Someone's Junk is Someone Else's Treasure!
Due to our crappy and unpredictable weather, Steve backed out on our hiking trip this weekend. Miserable wanker. Last minute cancellation when I was really looking forward to getting pissed with him. Its coz I'm only "allowed" to get pissed when Steve's there. But not willing to let my weekend go to waste, we invited two other friends of mine to dinner and I managed to get pissed with them :) . It was their first visit to our house, and I was quite shocked to see that they thought that my house was gorgeous. Here I was, fed up with my house, shifting out to a "nicer" place, and these guys adore my place. "Well!", I said, "If you love it so much, you shift into it." I was a bit taken aback when they agreed and next thing I knew, I was talking to my landlord and taking credit for looking EVERYWHERE and finding a few friends of mine who were WILLING to move in as soon as I moved out. Well this put me in his good books and he wasn't so grumpy to me anymore. He was really pissed off that I suddenly decided to up and leave, that too, during summer when there was no one around looking for houses. But now, he's thrilled and can't wait for me to get out.
Anyway, the title of this post is linked to our Sunday trip to Morecambe. We've never been to a Car Boot Sale and we've always wanted to go and check it out. And its quite literally a Car Boot Sale. They have this big field where all these cars and vans are parked and people display their junk in their boot or on tables next to their cars. We were quite flabbergasted at the range of goods that people throw out. There were baby clothes, stuffed toys, shoes, CDs, LP disks, golf clubs, cutlery, furniture, tools, lingerie (???!!!), eggs(??), a car!!, fishing rods, rackets...name it they had it. And all for peanuts. Personally I was quite suspicious of everything, asking " What's wrong with it?". As if they'd confess and say that there was an ancient family curse on the flower vase. We managed to pick up a few things at dirt prices. Some of the stuff that people get rid off were quite nice. Being the first trip to a car boot sale, we didn't know if haggling was allowed. What do you say? No, no, not 1 pound. 50p. Nothing more than 50p. I mean. Jesus. How do you haggle for 50p? Apparently Ani's sister is quite a garage sale addict and her house is littered with other people's junk. Legend has it that she haggled for a 2 pound item and brought it down to 25 cents. Quality haggling. Next time. I'll haggle better.
Software Pirates
I came across an article in a professional magazine about
SeaCode. Three US Entrepreneurs have brought a new meaning to the term 'offshoring'. They have purchased a disused cruise ship and have kitted it out as a cutting edge software development laboratory and they are manning the vessel with a crew of coders from around the globe. The ship will house 600 developers working around the clock and will sail the oceans to meet demand. Whether the project will stay "afloat" and whether other outsourcing services follow them on to the oceans remains to be seen.
Skype has become such a threat to telecom providers that they are now starting to block it. And quite typically the first people to do so is Etisalat in UAE. Fortunately, they haven't blocked talking from computer to computer, but users cannot buy any more credit for SkypeOut. Mexico has followed suit also with an ISP blocking Skype completely. Blocking access is not the appropriate response to the new emerging VOIP technology. Carriers need to learn the lessons of how to develop business models that can make money from the new world of internet telephony.
On a different note, Steve and Hillary are coming over to Lancaster tonight. We're going hiking tomorrow. God help me. Steve likes using me as his bitch. He's such a slave driver. Hopefully I'll be alive later to recount my tale.
How much is that doggy in the window?
I honestly feel like that poor little doggy in the window, staring out at freedom and bliss. Blackpool is so sunny and gorgeous and I have a view of the beach from my office. But I'm stuck indoors all day, pining away, cheek stuck to the window watching women in various stages of undress strolling down the promenade. However, when I'm released from my cage in the evening, all I have to look forward to in Lancaster is a dull shade of grey and miserable rain. The new BBC weather graphics shows how the clouds form and disappear over UK. There is a rather stubborn cloud over Lancaster that refuses to budge no matter how glorious it is everywhere else.
Got some disappointing news at work today. My main contact at a potential client of ours, who I've been working on for the past 6 months, and who the company has been dealing with for the past THREE years has left his company and placed our project in someone else's hands. Its back to square one for me. After all my hard work building a relationship with this guy, he just ups and leaves his company. How inconsiderate of him. Now I've got to retrain his successor and re-pitch the benefits of our products to him and wait another year until he sees for himself the long term benefits of our systems. Christ!
Live 8 has been announced. I HAVE to get tickets for this concert. Its a concert that's going to go down in history. Over 5 million people are estimated to be trying to get their hands on the 150,000 free tickets in the UK. The whole purpose of Live 8 is to raise awareness of the poverty crisis in Africa and to push people into doing something about it and pressurizing their governments. Its not about money this time. How effective is it going to be? How many people really care? How many people lose sleep over the thought of millions of starving children in Africa? Donating to charity is an easy way to ease our guilt for living in a developed country and spending more money on bin liners than those poor buggers spend on their monthly food. One trip to work costs more than what it takes to educate 5 children for a year. How do we deal with it? We get pissed and party at Live 8. But hey, we're raising awareness.
I read that if Africa got just 1% of the world's trade, it would end their poverty crisis. What they need is trade justice. Not our money. We need to start buying Fair Trade goods even if its a few pounds/dollars costlier.
Make Poverty History.
