�Look Ma a Washing Machine !!�

In country of extremes, there are the �haves� and the �have nots� and if I were to believe President Bush there is a third category of the �have mores�.
On a trip to Punjab, a fellow Urban Indian was treated to the hospitality of a rich Punjabi farmer. One who drives to work in his BMW SUV and spends his day working on his John Deere tractor. My friend the rich farmer is small minority of rich farmers in India, a minority who have so much money they don�t know what to do with it and with no income tax officer knocking on his door it doesn�t help the picture.

Having a lot of money amounts to one thing spending it (exception to the rule Sam Walton & Azim Premji) therefore the end resultant of my Punjabi friends beautiful occupation is that their house (or farm house\mansion) is blessed with all the gadgets, which they don�t usually have a utility for. An example to this is a funny anecdote. Walking into their kitchen the urban Indian finds a large front loader washing machine spinning away to glory to what looked like a heavy wash cycle. If you looked very closely at the contents of washing machine you would be surprised that instead of a dirty load of laundry, some detergint (& may be some fabric softener) you would find a 2 to 1 ratio of curd is to water some salt and some pepper.
The prefect lassi-maker don�t you think ?
Utility defines Use. For what to you is a washing machine to them is a lassi maker and a good one for that.



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Trivial - info
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Lassi -

Lassi is a traditional Indian beverage made by blending yoghurt with water, salt, and spices until frothy, and enjoyed chilled as a hot-weather refreshment. Traditional lassi is salty and usually flavored with ground roasted cumin and chili peppers. Sweet lassi is a more recent invention, flavored with sugar, rosewater and/or lemon, mango, strawberry or other fruit juice

Traditional salty (namkin) lassi

* 4 c (1 litre) yoghurt
* 3 c (750 ml) cold water
* 1 c (250 ml) crushed ice
* fresh green chili peppers (quantity according to taste), chopped
* 1 ts cumin, roasted and ground
* 3 tb lime or lemon juice
* 2 ts salt

Combine all ingredients except ice in blender(or washing machine) and blend until smooth. Then add ice and continue blending until frothy.

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Dick & Garlick - [Blogreview 1]

I found this great new blog. Found it interesting and hence the mention. It goes by the name of Dick & Garlick and goes by the tagline

"Notes on Indian English, Hinglish, Tamlish, Bonglish & other -lishes"

.
As the tagline suggests it documents (or tries to) all the desi induced english we speak(or don't for that matter). It worth your browse .
yenjoy !


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Trivial - info
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Hinglish is the arbitrary usage of Hindi and English, combining both, in one sentence. For example... "pitaji, time kya hua hai?" (Father, what is the time right now?)

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Would you like a cup of Tea ?

Part - 2 The Chronicles of the Giant Fig Tree


A few hours later and still terribly cold, walking along a road winding along a what seems to be a hill .Tea gardens surround me as I watch the rising sun.

Two leaves and a bud, thats all it takes.




Believe me or not , this is the Worlds largest fig tree. Yes you heard me right I said fig tree.This is the view form the inside.




Notice the large growth in the center of the picture that is the fig tree I was talking about above. This massive tree has foilage cover of 3000 square feet. Talk about real estate.

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Would you like a cup of tea ?


Part - 1 - The Enchanted Tea Pluckers of Labookelle

Like most people I like to get my daily supplement of caffeine, some like it in the form of coffee others like me prefer tea. My day isn't complete without at least three cups of it. So if you where to ask me "Akshay
, would you like a cup of tea?" the answer in most cases would be in the affirmative.
I'm not fussy either, from to cutting chai to earl grey they all taste the same to my me.
Coming back to the post. In the recent past , I awoke one morning and this time I was not just looking for my morning cup, I was looking for my morning basket full . If you are a little confused at this point don't be. For this faithful morning I was going on the hunt for the tea-puckers of Ceylon.
Two thousand metres above sea level ,floating on a cloud lies Nuwara Eliya blushing with her lush grren acres and acres of tea plantation.Here my adventure begins at 5 am on a blistering cold morning in July. My search for the enchanted tea pluckers .




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Stay tuned for Part - 2 tommorow. I was feeling lost, so I thought I would go on a little blog holliday.What do you think ?
And yes I accidently deleted my earliar template and since I could not repair it I had to get a new one.

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Today is Dasara , where Good triumphs over Evil.

What is Evil to you ?


This quote from Nietzsche does it for me .

Battle not with monsters
yest ye become a monster
and if you gaze into the abyss
the abyss gazes into you.

We all have to fight are own demons to fight evil.
I wish you a victory in your effort .
Happy Dasara .

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Gypsies of India

Gypsies.If you think about the word in your head and close your eyes you'll probably see a picture of a caravan or may be an old women with a crystal ball or something.But thats not entirely true let us look at the actual defination of a gypsy.

A member of a people that arrived in Europe in migrations from northern India around the 14th century, now also living in North America and Australia. Many Gypsy groups have preserved elements of their traditional culture, including an itinerant existence and the Romany language.

.::. Banjara .::.

The Banjara (also called Lambadi or Lanbani) are a nomadic tribe in India. They are directly linked to the romany gypsies of eastern europe. It is believed that these gypsies migrated to Europe seveal centuries ago.
**Read**
1 > Romany Gypsies came out of India
2 > The Roma and the Persistence of Memory
3 > Gypsies Came From India (Varman.org)
The colourful stream of the Banjaras began to travel down to the South in the 14th century. In the early 1800s, following the invasion by the armies of Aurangzeb, and thanks to the number of cattle they owned, the Banjaras worked for the Moghuls as commissariat carriers transporting provisions and arms, setting up camps on the outskirts of army encampments. When the Southern campaigns ended, the Banjaras forgot their desert homes in Rajasthan and settled down in the Deccan, the plateau of central peninsular India.

The women in the picture are construction workers.They work as labourers and they actually work in full traditional attire with all there ornate jewellary.
The Banjara women, however, are holding steadfast to their ancient mode of dress which is perhaps the most colorful and elaborate of any tribal group in India. Undoubtedly, their dress and jewelry sets them apart from all others. Their full length skirt, is blazing red with borders embroidered in mustard and green thread. The odhni (mantle) which covers the head is long enough to drape down their backs almost touching the feet. This also elaborately embroidered and studded with little mirrors which embellish their cholis (blouses). A variety of materials - silver, brass, some gold, cowries, ivory, animal bone and even plastic - are used in the making of a Banjara wardrobe. The women wear pretty silver anklets which clink as they walk barefoot. Long silver earrings are conspicuous, and patterned cowrie shells decorate their hair, and are worn on their wrists and ankles. 

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Eva - Part 3 (SANS Typos I hope Updated - 17/10
OK I lied there are a million more typos to correct)

(Read Part 1 & Part 2)


You move towards her using all your energy. But you go nowhere it's like you're running in the sand or swimming in honey. The floor beneath your feet becomes soft as butter and your legs begin to dissolve like salt in water. Molecule by molecule you disintegrate till you are just a puddle of salt water. You�re now nothing but an amoeba left with your thoughts. You revolve around your them lost like Alice was in Wonderland .

She tilts her head ever so gently and frowns. She looks at you, standing there frozen in your impending motion. All she sees is a fellow human being caught in the outer reaches of reality where nothing really matters and everything is an illusion. Her frown turns to a smile.

Her smile a catalyst for change causing your molecules to re-multiply like they never done before. Limbs grow back where there were limbs, hair where there was hair, and eyes where there were eyes. You are reborn, if you close your eyes all you�ll see is the light. Your heart starts pumping, blood start flowing, your feel the power in your muscles. In your new form you smile back.

Everything returns to normality. I mean normality like everything else in relative terms. You look at your self, brush away the dust from your wrinkled shirt, run a hand through your hair. Its like nothing really happened. You feel rejuvenatated as if the alcohol that earlier blurred your vision has turned to caffeine and you are now blessed with the agility of a crocodile wrestler. You walk quickly across the room nudging away all in your way. You are on a mission my friend a mission to be free.

�A smile is a powerful weapon; you can even break ice with it�

she thought to herself.As she does her smiles turn more radiant than the sun and one glimpse at which would make melancholy man change his name.

You walk up to her and look down at her and stare with dreamy eyes. Seconds pass by but you�re still standing there directly above her. She makes the first step. �May I help you�? To which you briskly reply, � Is this seat taking�. Taking the seat next to her before she could answer you wait. Counting the seconds you double 2s ,calculate the rpm at which the ceiling fan is rotating .You do everything but look at her or better talk to her.
She sits there in dormancy, still no response; she begins to get frustrated by your nonchalance. Faith intervenes, faith has a habit of intervening into matters that are none of her business but if you know faith she also has a habit of making it her business. As for Lady Luck she is far to complicated to analyze. Ask the gambler who has just lost his shirt?
You look at her nudged ever so gently by faith ,into the vast expanse that are her watery brown eyes. She sits there like a Georgian Water Color painting wrapped in silk. You open your mouth to talk but the next thing you know she is in your arms in a loving embrace. Her perfume engulfs you like a meadow of spring flowers. You know the fragrance but it escapes you. You pull her hair behind her ears and you move to kiss her, she closes her eyes in anticipations you move closer ��


� Clap Clap Clap .�
You wake up with a jolt, breathing heavily. You find your self on a large couch and disoriented.

�That will be enough for today son, thank you. See you next week. Remember to take your medication,� say a middle age man dressed formally sitting on a rather large leather chair.
Then it comes to you it was French Vanilla. That was the perfume she was wearing. French Vanilla.

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Note -
Phew !!! its finally over. That was an exhausting excercise I tell you I burned more calories than I would have if I had run the Boston Marathon.Anyways I now have to get someone to proof read it (any volunteers ??).Any final comments from any of you people who have read all the 3 parts ?How does it sound ?.. Is it any good ?? Questions Questions.I have had pretty strange responses till now. My mom thinks I'm on LSD .
I'd to tell her the truth ..

" No Mom I'm actually on Heroin, I have this iranian friend who gets it really cheap for me."

Note to self - Please get someone to proof read before you publish crap .

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What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

- Johnny Cash


I have feeling guilty. What have I done to change? Change a word used often yet not often understood. Today I woke up and asked myself
Akshay What have you done?
The silence was my answer.


.:::.Change.:::.

1 a : to make different in some particular : ALTER b : to make radically different : TRANSFORM c : to give a different position, course, or direction to
2 a : to replace with another b : to make a shift from one to another : SWITCH c : to exchange for an equivalent sum or comparable item d : to undergo a modification of e : to put fresh clothes or covering on

I want to change that . I want to change that Now !! as a matter of fact. It hurts me , a hole . Something is missing . I feel so incomplete. Questions Questions Questions.

What have I become ? ?
I can't fathom my existence and it makes me cringe . What am I supposed to become. Am I supposed to become a software engineer. Deep Down Inside no matter what I tell other wise I know that is not true.

Then
What do you want to become Akshay ? ?
I don't know actually. I know that sounds clique but that is the truth. If I was blessed with clarity of thought I wouldn't be here I guess. I know it is pointless say that I really don't want to do something and give no other alternative. More then Pointless it is counter productive.
All I know is that I want to be a catalyst for change.

Catalyst for Change .... HA !
Sounds like something born of a Statement of Purpose.
I'll tell you something when I was in school I read this poem in Hindi..It was called Ye duniya Nushwar Hai .
Which basically means this everything has an end.
May be the same is the case with my present state of mind.

Beneath the stains of time this feeling will disappear.

MothMAN ? 



Stairway to nowhere ? 


Meet Eva 

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Eva - Part 2 ....... contd from Part 1

Her eyes are on you, she is watching. A teardrop rolls down her cheek at the sight of your fall from grace. She grimaces but sits there motionless on the sofa. Her diaphragm contracts gently as she breaths in and breathes out small puffs of air. Breathing is such a trivial exercise born out of a craving to be alive. As she sits there she thinks of better days when everybody was together for togetherness
like everything else in this world togetherness is temporary. In the inner breaches of her mind she looses herself to thoughts of life, death and the fallen you.

As you lie there on the glass of what was your drink you don�t feel like getting up you�re satisfied in just lying there in your illusion that everything will be ok. But compulsion is greater then illusion. Disoriented and drunk you get up and walk to the sofa. You know what people say to you?

�You�re Drunk when you�re sober.and you�re sober when you�re drunk. If you would only take LSD you would answer the questions of existence.�

I know it doesn�t make any sense but thats what people say.

Woken from the inner breaches of her mind by the clambering steps of the fallen .Her eyes broaden and she becomes alert like a tigress is to her prey. The glint of your reflection hovers over her eye like the future does over a crystal ball. She looks at you carefully from head to toe, she counts the folds on your shirt, counts your white hair from your black, she notices your untied shoe lasses. She can see the pain in your eyes the blood in your mind and the hole through your heart.

There is a romance in the two colors, black in white. If you seen a rainbow in black and white you would see the same two colors in seven shades of the same. The face of the people you have met in the years of life ,flash by like mug shots in a police archive. Then you catch a glimpse of her brown eyes, black flowing locks of hair and she smiles .Her face, just a mirror for the Sun.


Note --- Stay tuned for part 3.. the last and final part in this trilogy of posts.
Ahh before I forget the heres the link for Young Indian Writers .

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EVA ; Part 1

In a shimmering black fur coat she sits on the sofa lounging extravagantly. Sophistication oozes out of her like hot lava does from a volcano. Sitting there silently she waits for her next pray for she has mastered the art of manipulation. One glance into her large brown eyes would put into a hypnotic trance a slave to her every desire. Her name is Eva.
As for you, you have no name.

A jazz quartet plays in the background the smooth sounds only magnified by the alcohol in your blood stream. You stand there moon bathing in the balcony with a tall glass in your hand. Kissing the glass ever so softly at brief intervals of time you dream. The land breeze cools your brow and aurora of light from a million light bulbs blinds your eyes while the drink in your hand blocks out your brain.
Your legs jingle to the sound of the saxophone and your body sways to the music like a cobra. You close your eyes only for a moment turn and forget who are, just for a second you become just nobody.
Turning slowly you walk measured steps the music gets louder and you can feel the presence of people around you but you can not see there faces. Vision plays trick on you because you always see what you want to see and not what is actually there. There is no getting beyond your eyes. You look around trying to make contact like a lone alien on a quest to find his home planet lost in space. Yet all you see is nothing, faceless premonitions of people and all you hear are noise of a distant music.
The world is spinning around you and the centrifugal force is pushing you outward like a wayward curve and now gravity is your only savior as you fall to the ground like one of Galileo�s experiments. Time freezes cold and it seems to take forever and a nanosecond before the impact you smile as face hits into the icy marble floor.

Note : - Stay tuned to part 2 coming tommorrow. I'm planning to send it in for the
Stories at the Coffee Table
Contest. I know its pretty amatuerish but guess what I'm kind of a rockie at writing and my blog is mediocre.There is this great organisation in India promoting young writers in India aptly named Young Indian Writers check it out.
Anyway feedback on how part 1 sounds would be greatly appreciated.

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I watched Donnie Darko yesterday . The experience of which is still floating in my brain.
I'm searching for words to describe what I felt as I watched it .

As Gary Jules sings Mad World in the background you're floating through time and space . You find yourself in a metal craft traveling at the speed of light and then it happens you think to you're self this movie is "bloody brilliant".

As seen in my earliar post time travel fasicnates me as does many people (read Time Travel).
Well the movie revolves around the life of one Donnie Darko a paranoid shiezopreinic who is capable of time travel and his imaginary friend frank who is 6 foot tall bunny rabbit.
Director Richard Kelly describes the film as a cross between Sam Raimi?s 'The Evil Dead', Martin Scorcese?s 'The Last Temptation of Christ' and Robert Zemeckis?s 'Back to the Future'.
The movies I love keep me guessing.Movies that you can predict are grossly boring.Donnie Darko is a wild ride with a new suprise hiding at each bend.

There are finer elements of the film which minic reality in an almost surreal way this can be illustrated by the following dialogue.

Donnie : My parents didn't get me what I wanted for Christmas.
Dr. Lilian Thurman : What did you want?
Donnie : Hungry Hungry Hippos.
Dr. Lilian Thurman : And how did you feel, being denied these hungry, hungry hippos?
Donnie : Regret.

All and All 4 Stars. . . 

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Looks like I'm not going to sleep again. Twice in three days ,talk about of sleep deprivation not that I like wearing a crown of thorns or sleeping on a bed of nails (sleep a quality lacking in my case) it's being forced on me by the powers that be. The result being no sleep.
The "powers that be" - Who are they?
You may ask I don't know but falling back on words of Jack Black from the School of Rock about the existence of "the man" and at this point the "the man" doesn't like me very much. Not sleeping is unpleasant to say the least. I have starting seeing thing, Halucinations..
On hallucination I go back to another movie "I'm seeing things"- sixth sense.I'm hearing voices, seeing and talking to inanimate objects,flashing lights ,having long detailed conversations with myself on the consistency of the complexion of the moon and all the jazz.
Sleep deprivation is one long deja vu you've been there before and sometimes for the same reason and your body is giving you the same blinking warning lights.
It like when you're got a high fever and you're delirious you get the same feeling it kind indescribable but it the same redundant feeling like someone has put a bag over head and you can breathe but you wonder why??
The thing about not sleeping agents I'm going without the help of 'external agents' and shit no vivarin for me .. simply because it simply not available in India.
Should go now and finish the algorithm for Radix Sort.


"Goodnight and Sweet Dreams"

What the f&*& is WTF ?

I was not stressed I justoverexerted myself
-Aalap.

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3:58 am.
I'm tired of writing so I thought I would type something. A cockroach is climbing up the wall.Ohh there comes "green" (my wall gecko) and RIP dear cockroach, my head is throbbing.Need sleep !!! but simply cannot afford to sleep. Too much work.(Yawn !!!)
My bloodshot eyes pear drearily at the computer screen and my back is screaming for some rest.
Rohit and Sid , have gone off to sleep . Sid crashed around 3am and Rohit has left me the job of nightwatchmen...
Speaking of nightwatchmen , it reminds me of one of my favourite painting Rembrandt's The Night Watch
. Think I'll leave you with it as I sign off. 

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Updated my Photo Blog >>> Click here to visit !!!

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Is My Blog Traffic going to Explode ???

Ever go to Google and do a ramdom seearch just to see what comes up in the sponsored links?? I do it all the time.
Why? It is just one of the many ways that to find something that interest you. Occasionally, you'll find something really good and/or worth knowing about.(You could find something interesting just syndicate me ,Look up at the google ad bar.!!!!)

Yesterday, I came across this site called BlogExplosion.com. They claim that they can �explode� your blog traffic, for free. Here are come of their features

* 2:1 traffic ratio means for every two blogs you visit, one person will visit your Blog in return!

* Get your blog listed in the Blog Explosion blog directory and get free trafffic as long as you are a member!

* Add unlimited blogs you want to promote!

* Add unlimated banners with clickthrough reporting to help promote your blogs

* Enter great monthly contests and win bonus Mystery Blog traffic 24/7!

* Blogexplosion provides full statistics for your blog traffic including total visitors, unique visitors, time of day, and what country your blog traffic is coming from

* Refer new members to BlogExplosion and generate huge referral traffic on five tiers (10%,10%,10%, 10%,10%). Watch your blog traffic fly as you earn a percentage of blog traffic from people you refer to BlogExplosion.


I really don't know how it works to the fullest of my understanding yet ,simply because I just joined but it looks like the full deal .
I'll update y'all on how it works ??

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Who is Alice Richman?

As I walked into the garden , my eyes adjusted to the intensity of light droping from a torrid white to a more mellow blue filtering down through the now dense foliage ,in contrast to the shield less sky.
I walked at a slow yet calculated pace scanning the surroundings , which I must mention where not entirely new to me yet not familiar either. I have been here before once yet now it is strangely different.Yes it has rained and ,the soil has retained a certain moistness as cotton would if placed in front of an air conditioner in a humid coastal city .It is strangely different as I already said not to sound redundant but it is and I tell you as I can't put my finger on the reason. Yes then it was morning and now it is mid afternoon.
Under the apparent shade of the somewhat tall , aged dense woody tropical trees sat people ,some in pairs , some in threes some in larger groups and some like me where here alone.
Lovers sitting on dense unkempt grass , some in deep conversation others in deeper mood of silence.. but This should not preoccupy me , I was here for a reason.
I was here to find a place where I would rest my self and peer into my rather large technical book and study. After about minutes in the this unfamiliar yet growingly familiar place I found my self at what seemed to be raised stone plinth. In the centre to be which , appeared to look like a memorial from far which but on closer investigation was a grave...in the shape of a cross on this elevated surface. I sat my self on the stone plinth and worked on my as I mentioned on my "rather large" textbook. At first I didn't notice this strange marble cross on the ground ... But as time walked by my eyes fell on the following inscription -

"BORN MELROSE SOUTH AUSTRALIA NOVEMBER 13 1856 AND DIED AT THIS SPOT OF CHOLERA AT THIS VERY SPOT JANUARY 1886"

Curiosity got the better of me , as I got up walk around this central object and on the other side inscribed on the dark stone
" IN THE SACRED MEMORY OF THE LOVED"
 

I did a rough calculation in my head the person in question was or is 30(not got beyond 30 at least) when he/she had died of cholera as I already mentioned..
A name came then came to sight a name Alice Richman on the front end was inscribed..
As went back to my place and then to my book.
I began to think.
A question resonated in my mind
Who is Alice Richman?

P.S -
Recycled ,edited and Improved from an earlier post

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Gateways of Green 
Click on the Picture to Expand

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Pictures Within Pictures
Picture say so much , snapshots of the past, your passport to travelling down memory lane .. Here are some Pictures Within a Picture. 
Click on the Picture to Expand.

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Stairway to Heaven.
Was feeling somewhat bored and a little depressed (read previous post), decided to take a break from Data Structures and Algorithms and the world of Searching & Sorting and so I decided take a walk in the Pune University(my varsity) Garden and take a few pictures. 
Click on the Picture to expand

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Do you have the feeling that the world is passing you by?
Do you get the feeling that you're the "stagnant" among the dynamic?

I get it all the time I so hate being mediocre. In a world looking for perfection in everything, the mediocre are the ones left behind. The thing is I know I'm capable of more, but when more is demanded of 'me' I always end up giving less.

The World Leaving you behind ...

The sad thing about me being mediocre is that I'm so sure I could do better and the thing is everybody know you can but since you don't it simply rubs more salt into your festering wounds.
Its like sitting by the window of a crowded coffee shop by the window and the world passes you by but in the end of it you're still there. Just there , having achieved absolutely nothing .

Achieving absolutely nothing ...

Achieving absolutely nothing ,
causes me squint my eyes , the muscles in my right arm twitch in pain and they�re this strange emptiness in me like somebody has drilled a hole through me .
It's so frustratingly depressing.
Looking at the stars , and seeing that there not shining for you and the bells are tolling ,the signs revealing the actual triviality of your existence.
AND all you can do is nothing. nothing. nothing.

In any case I should study now.

nothing touches me man
these walls are three feet thick
wouldn't take one of them little drills to get through
i try to make her listen
when i turn away she's split
i try to make her listen
when i turn away she's split
she went...
nothing touches me
nothing touches me now
nothing touches me man
no matter how you split
sticks and stones can get through bones
so i've given up looking out of it
i try to make her listen
when i turn away she's split
i try to make her listen
when i turn away shes split
she went...
nothing touches me now
laugh if you can, at me now

-Radiohead

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