Rest unassured, and the rest

I have ended up going to my office for the past 15 days in a row having been pursued by an avalanche of tasks, some of them expanding through my incompetence and some being thrust on my head. Pressure valves were few and far between but one in particular was interesting - the humour in one dissenting email that I ended up penning during this period was completely lost on certain circles (it was fun doing it though).

But enough of vague allusions to work. It ain't all over yet, so I'm taking this chance to update this space before I get sucked in again.

*** The students among the local quizzing gang seem to have had a great time at PIFF while I was submerged in debugging infested code. I have got to watch Anurag Kashyap's Black Friday before it gets banned or curtailed (with someone challenging its viewing on the strange premise that it affects the Bombay Blast cases currently in court). You can never bet against Kashyap's luck. Somehow forgot to nab the Indian Ocean soundtrack (maybe I should be out getting it instead of typing this), but saw a clip on TV.

It also looks like Page 3 is faring well with opinions. The PIFF gang said they liked it, and Sarika mentions on her blog that it is uncannily similar to her world. Since she's teetering on the fringe of Page 3 reporting herself, she should know.

*** I caught NDTV mentioning the "legacy" of Parveen Babi. Please. She was a glamorous yesteryear actress with afflictions, both mental & physical. She certainly did not deserve (no human does) to be forgotten by friends and family, but we don't know what happened there. Please report the incident and move on. *** Is no one (except BVHK) watching the Premier Hockey League? I've caught a few matches (not in their entirety, I must confess) mostly involving my team of choice The Maratha Warriors (why? because it's led by Viren Rasquinha and had the best goalie until he withdrew because of injury). I was looking forward to the Warriors clash with the Hyderabad Sultans and the match didn't disappoint. However, the Warriors did. They lost 2-1 despite dominating the match and then lost in penalty strokes to the Sher-e-Jalandhar team yesterday and dented their chances a great deal.

The matches are in the evening from about 8:00 pm, which is when the suds start to envelope TV which the renders the match visible in 5 minute packets. But then, the matches despite being easy on the eye haven't completely caught the imagination yet.

*** Another casualty of the saabuns was an interesting short film called (a little referentially) "A short film". It caught my eye for being directed by Ashutosh Gowariker ages ago on a amateurish video camera. This was on a programme called "Indie Film" on NDTV's new business channel NDTV Profit. It featured Amin Hajee (Bagha from Lagaan) and someone who looked a lot like him and they were strangling people one by one in their 2 room flat. Interesting? But I don't know what happened next with my ad time having expired. By the time I got back, they were showing another short called "Birju", which I gathered had been nominated at the Academy Awards a while ago. Later a discussion with Gowariker and the director of Birju about the pitfalls of Indian "indie" film production.

I like these business channels - they tend to have alternative programming from a less sentimental perspective and are more watchable. "Profit" had one more interesting tale, that of HPCL's endeavour to set up community kitchens where village women can cook on LPG stoves for Rs.4/- an hour instead of needing to burn wood. It was a little distressing to hear from some women that they cannot always assure even that amount, and they have to go back to gathering wood and sitting beside the smoke & grime.

Despite what Zayed Khan claims, the lowest priced pizza at P'Hut is > Rs. 50. That's about the cooking expenses of 13 homes.

*** I'm convinced that there is a secret factory somewhere in Rawalpindi or Faisalabad churning out off-spinners in the Saqlain mould. And what's worse is that despite the previous clones are being carded for suspect bowling actions, they continue to drop in from the production line. The latest, Mohammad Hafeez, has also been reported.

Harbhajan Singh lashed out against Chris Broad last week on being reported for a suspect action as well. I must say he has a point. The ICC announced that they are planning to revise the whole thresholds of the flex. But since the current levels continue to apply, any bowler that might be allowed if the new proposals were to be implemented could in the intervening period be asked to modify his action. Only to find out when he comes back that under the new rules he need not have bothered.

[The above two items may be a little factually incorrect - I haven't caught up with my news reading completely and this is based on snatches of what I managed to hear & see recently.]

*** I finally have a theory to explain the sadaa-haraa nature of Dev Anand saab. It's called the Phantom theory. No, I'm not going to claim there's something supernatural about all this, but just like Kit Walker, this isn't the original Dev saab. This is probably the 3rd or 4th generation. They all look the same, talk & shuffle-walk the same. (In fact, the sideways-shuffle - remember "chOD-do aa.nchal"? - is all too reminiscent of the crab. A crustacean walk then.)

What else can explain it?

[Update:] A friend also added Dheeraj Kumar to this list.

*** Yippee! I finally won a quiz after about 15 months. Now, the quiz wasn't a great one and we (Niranjan and Samrat, and this year Harish) usually go to the YMCA annual quiz to have a lot of harmless fun, but when you have had an arid year, any sprinkling of water will do. Better to win Queen's Club than to just dream about Wimbledon, eh?

I'm not sure if requirements of maturity frown down upon expressions of joy at winning not-so-significant stuff like this, but then it would just confirm the lack of onset of the afore-mentioned quality in my personality.

*** For some reason there has been a sudden invasion of mosquitoes at home. Not sure why. I unequivocally consider mosquitoes as the number one enemy and will chase them around in deadly pursuit all night (they always win because of sheer numbers). So much so that I'm a bit of an expert in this dangerous sport. Let me share a couple of tips with the populace:

a. Wetting one of your hands (if not both) will dramatically improve your hit rates. The reason being that about 50% of the pests escape even though you knock them down. Make sure you crush any ones with any signs of life - insects are very sturdy even though they may look shattered.

b. If you walk into a room knowing that the buzzers are around but you can't spot them, make your way to the nearest mirror. There are extremely high chances that you will spot a couple of them perched on the glass, peering intently at themselves (not each other, at their own selves). Not being a insect-psychologist, I can't be sure but there may be latent narcissistic tendencies being expressed there. However, it gives the hunter a chance to end this pleasant soliloquy and wash traces of the elimination (not possible on walls).

Remember: eliminate with extreme prejudice. And watch Hun Hunshi Hunshilal (a.k.a Love in the Time of Malaria) starring Mohan Gokhale for inspiration.

*** Last Monday, when we ended up working about 20 hours (this has happened to me before: you think it's done, and then find there's a little bit left - this happens over and over again), everytime I would look up at the clock in the hall, it would be at the exact beginning of the hour. I was living my life by the hour that day-and-night.

And like in some graceful Chinese art film, I could see my reactions slow down. Despite consciously trying to avoid mistakes, I could see myself making them. And more and more. I have never felt this helpless with work stuff before.

You end up thinking it will never ever be solved.

It didn't help that we went home (mostly hungry) during the most coldest night Pune had experienced in the season (a record broken later in the week). Even brass monkeys were spotted taking cover.