The Da Vinci Code

Reading The Da Vinci Code is like tumbling down a staircase with
unexpected turns and bends. It's packs a punch and packs in a lot of information as well.
It re-told me what the fibonacci series is, revealed the priory of sion and exposed the
secrets of Leondardo da Vinci's life and his motivations.
If you like codes and ciphers, this book is something you should read.

Da Vinci Code should also effortlessly blend into your shelf, no matter if your reading preference
is Books I'm Proud Of Having On My Shelf But Don't Read...or Books I'd Love To
Recommend To Others And Make Them Think I'm Cool... or Books I'm Going To
Read Before I'm Going To Die... or Books That Are Effortless To Read
or...Darned Good Read.

Okay, I'm a pagan so that should explain half the excitement.
Anyway here's the link for more - The Da Vinci Code

Gmail

The novelty of having a new e-mail id hasn't yet worn off.
Especially when it's gmail - google's meta new offer which
allows you to 1 gb of storage space. The thing is lousy
with brilliance, but there's that 'what's the catch?' feeling
too. Anyone interested in a review - click on this link.

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Today is when
You lift the corners of your mouth
To form what everyone must see

To contemplate any other way
Brings out fearful landscapes and pictures
Of what you really don't need right now.

Tighter and tighter

The man's grip on the sport is showing no signs of slackening.
Yes, I'm talking about Michael Schumacher who just won his 4th
consecutive race this season. 4/4 to be precise.
It's quite disgusting. Of course die hard Ferrari Fiends assure
me its like a karmic wheel. At any given point some team or the other
has a better car. But better car cannot fully explain Schumi's domination,
does it. And that means there's only one (distasteful) explanation left -
that Schumi is really so good it's almost divine.

Pity the guy is so two-dimensional though.

Planespeak

I had this strange experience while flying out to Delhi from Bangalore. I got scared.
Yes, that means I was scared the plane would crash before I could do all those
seriously cool things in life. Here's what I did prior to taking the flight. Maybe it
will give a clue -

1. Read copiously about actress Soundarya's death by air crash.
2. Read the Prelude to Clive Cussler's Dragon which talks about a bomber
crashing into the Pacific Ocean.
3. Starting reading former New York mayor Rudolf Guiliani's book on Sept 11th
in which three planes crash, as you all know.

That very same morning I tried to vote. But since my name wasn't on the
rolls there was no use trying. Just accompanied my parents, and one friend
to the booth and tried to steal a glance at an EVM.

Needless to say, a policeman stopped me before I could enter a booth without
the pass.

Road trippin'

I'm baaack. After seven grimy days of pre-election stories on the road.
My route took me from Delhi to Bangalore (by flight) and from there to Mandya,
Mysore, Mangalore, Udupi, Shimoga and back to Bangalore (all by road).

It all began when someone in office decided I should be sent to tour
Karnataka because I know the lingo. Here's some of what I did -

Mandya - unlike Bangalore which is next to it, Mandya seems like an
amorphous collection of little settlements spread across acres of heavily
irrigated farm land. Met a few farmers. Saw how a field is ploughed with a pair
of bullocks for the first time. Waded through sugarcane plantation with
mike in hand, mouthing an inane intro to my story. Dipped a finger into the river
Cauvery.

Mysore - nice hotel, nice people, nice palace. Met Kannada film superstar Ambareesh who is standing for a Lok Sabha seat in Mandya. Was surprised
to see he acts and speaks exactly in the same way as he does in reel life.
Yes, even that patented "aaaaiii, baro illi!!" to those familiar with the lingo.
Met the current Wodeyar prince who bitched about people in Delhi, the
colour bias against South Indians and of course politics.

Mangalore - saw the house where I lived for the first 6 months of my life. Went
aboard a Persian fishing boat into what I call the deep sea to see how fish are
caught.

Shimoga - cool drive from Mangalore. Saw a thousand cardboard cutouts
of former Chief Minister Bangarappa.

Tailpiece - since I was on the move, I subsisted on fresh, sweet bakery bread. Mysore's is the best.

And yes, the BJP is going to win.

"Better to burn out...

...than to fade away." About 10 years back, when I was a bumbling teenageer
I discoverd Nirvana. I didn't know it then, but I started listening to the riffy, catchy
strains of Nevermind - their multi platinum album around the same time Kurt Cobain
took a shotgun to his head. And a few weeks later I even remember choking over his suicide
note, published in the Rock Street Journal.

Dead or not, Cobain was to be a major influence, along with bands like Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains
and Stone Temple Pilots. We even had a band, called Moksha for a short time influenced by
the grunge scene. Anyway, the point of all this is that today is the 10th death anniversary of Kurt. And this my own
quixotic tribute to one of the few men who re-invented rock in the nineties.
More about him in here

Epiphany

I still can't become a professional blurb writer...

Damn.

Autistic differences

Christopher sees the world through literal eyes. Metaphor holds no meaning for him,
though similes come to him more easily. He understands logic and is very, very
good at maths. He is not capable of feeling, and even he is hurt
he cannot demonstrate it any socially acceptable manner.
Yet, are our worn coping skills, any better than his? (As one reviewer put it)

I'm talking about this book I recently read "The curious incident of the dog in the
night-time" by Mark Haddon. Yes, if you'd thought about it and made the connection,
the central character is Christopher. He is an autistic 15 year old, who embarks on a mission:
to solve the murder of a neighbourhood dog Wellingdon.
The writing is effective (deeply empathetic, funny, sad and crystal clear) and the story
also incorporates maps, diagrams, quadratic equations and some puzzles.

An unlikely story, but one that will keep you thinking for a long time.
Wanna know more? Here's the link

Piling it on

When team India beats Pakistan, and it's a historic test win, we go
beserk. (No I'm not talking about the fireworks which were very much
conspicious by their ABSENCE. Because it was a test match, not an
ODI encounter.)

I'm talking about what poor sports tv producers have to do to please
the news hungry public and the leech-like bosses. It's sordid.
It's obscene and it's profane.
We did 16 stories. Sixteeeeeen stories. Imagine! All in one shift.
And they call tv journalists self-indulgent*.


* heh, heh, heh (evil grin spreads slowly across the face).