tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78578222024-03-13T15:04:10.672-04:00Crystal BlurHome of the Mahabharata mayhem, rowdy Rishyasringa series, vivacious Vyasa, galactophagist groovy Ganapati and the bodacious Booty Squad.Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.comBlogger158125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-66397576266369879102011-06-26T21:54:00.000-04:002011-06-26T21:54:02.629-04:00Yavakridaaa<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:ApplyBreakingRules/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:UseFELayout/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><img src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/video_object.png" style="background-color: #b2b2b2; " class="BLOGGER-object-element tr_noresize tr_placeholder" id="ieooui" data-original-id="ieooui" /> <style>
st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) }
</style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}
</style> <![endif]--> <div class="MsoNormal"><b>Grad student 1</b>: “One of the visiting scholars has arrived Guruji.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Dr. Bharadwaj</b>: “What already? I thought they were coming next week. Argh! My appointment papyrus is messed up. My son can show them around. Let’s see, what do I have scheduled for the afternoon? Here it is … some grad student’s final defense. Ah good, nothing important. I will meet the scholars in the afternoon.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Grad student 1 runs around looking for his mentor’s son (Yavakrida) and finds Yava pestering the new grad students.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Grad student 1</b>: “The visiting scholar is here and Guruji would like you to show them around the ashram.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Yavakrida </b>(groan!): “Oh alright! Where is he?” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Yavakrida grudgingly makes his way to greet the scholar.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Ramananda (R)</b>: “Hello, my name is Ramananda, I’m here to meet Dr. Bharadwaj.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Yavakrida (Y)</b>: “Yes, I am Dr. Bharadwaj’s son. My name is Yavakrida.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R</b>: “Nice to meet you Yavakrida.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Y</b>: “No, no, you are not pronouncing it correctly.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R</b>: “Okay, so how is it pronounced?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Y</b>: “It’s Ya…repeat it after me…ya.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R</b>: “Ya.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Y</b>: “Va”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R</b>: “Wa”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Y</b>: “No, it’s va not wa, you have to bite your lips while saying va, unlike while saying wa your mouth forms the shape of a lotus bud. Got it? Va!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Ganapati (G): </b>“It’s just a friggin name. Can we move on with the story?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Vyasa (V)</b>: “And what would you know about having your name incessantly mispronounced, Mr. No V in my name so I don’t care?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Good God, quit being so sensitive.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V: </b>“So as I was saying…or rather Yavakrida says.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Y: </b>“Va!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R</b>: “Wah!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Two hours later.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Y</b>: “Okay you can work on the va some more later.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R </b>(sarcastically): “Oh, you bet. In fact I will clear my evening schedule for it.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “Ganapati, stop fudging my script.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “I am just giving it some normalcy. I am sure some readers will identify with R’s feelings.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b> (pinching the bridge of his nose): “Just write.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Y</b>: Next is kree.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R </b>(exasperated): “Kri”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Y</b>: “No it is kree. Listen to the pitch carefully. Kree.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R</b>: “Kreeeeeee.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Y</b>: “Okay, now it is too much. You have to rein it in a bit.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R</b>: “Kree.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Y</b>: “Good! And finally dah! You have to emphasize on the last bit, daahhhhhh!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Why do parents keep naming their kids with such complicated names? In the good old days of Ramayana, people had sensible names like Ram, Sita, Luv, Kush. Simple and beautiful. But now they have these insanely long names.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “There are merits to long names. The kids learn half the alphabets just memorizing the names.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Ah! Good point.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Y</b>: “Put it all together and it is Yavakridaah! Go on say it.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R</b> (in a tired voice): “Yavakrida…”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Yavakrida gives encouraging looks.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R</b> (taking the hint): “daaah!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Y</b>: “Yes! Now was that so hard? Pronouncing the name correctly, is a simple gesture to show respect for your fellow humans, wouldn’t you agree Ravindra?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R</b>: “My name is Ramananda.”</div><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Y</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">: “Whatever! The point I make is very important. It is crucial to get the pronunciation of the names exactly right.”</span></div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-65402217881248141272011-06-20T22:18:00.000-04:002011-06-20T22:18:43.158-04:00Chapter 13: Sagar's seven (Part 3 of 3)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Previously on Sagar’s seven <a href="http://aashraya.blogspot.com/2011/06/chapter-13-sagars-seven-part-2-of-3.html">here</a> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Vyasa</b>: “The bandits have a small lead but they knew that it wouldn’t take too long for the guards to catch up.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Sagar</b>: “Boys, it won’t take too long for the guards to catch up.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Bandit 1 bites fingers.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Sagar</b>: “But don’t worry, I had it all planned out. Shiru should be waiting for us with getaway horses down this road.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sure enough good old Shiru was patiently waiting for Sagar and the bandits. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Bandits</b>: “You are the man Shiru!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The bandits hop onto the horses with the loot and head into the forest as they hear a distant gallop of the guards giving chase. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The guards are hot on the bandits’ trail. The bandits manage to put some distance between the guards and themselves by taking a secret pathway in the hilly terrain. After riding for a considerable amount of time the bandits are exhausted. Night befalls upon them but they keep moving. Finally, out of sheer exhaustion the bandits decide to take refuge in an ashram they come across along the way. They sneak into the ashram, grab clothing from the clothing lines and find an empty room to hide.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The guardsmen give a relentless chase. The squad is lead by a courageous general, two veteran soldiers and two rookies.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Rooky 1</b>: “This is so exciting. We are on a live mission!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Rooky 2</b>: “Man, I have been collecting souvenirs all along the way. Mom is going to love it.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The chase leads to an ashram. General reads the name of the ashram. “Mandavya’s Academy” is carved in big bold letters at the entrance.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Okay, I know this guy. He is some kind of yogic mentor. We have to be very careful. This is the grant deadline week. The mentors are a bit psychotic during this time. So what is the first thing you do when you encounter a yogic mentor that you want to take under your custody?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">General quizzes the rookies.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Rookies in chorus</b>: “Take control of the water source.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Good. At least the academy didn’t send me total nut jobs this year. The vets will scour the ashram for the goons; rookies come with me to the mentor’s cottage. Let’s roll.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>All in chorus</b>: “Sir yes sir!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The general moves towards the main cottage where the mentor is burning the mid night oil.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Just as I thought, last minute grant application writing.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Rookie 1</b>: “Why are we arresting the mentor?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “It is not a coincidence that the trail leads into this ashram. I’m afraid he is our prime suspect. Lack of funding has driven many mentors to creative ways of obtaining funding. Now keep your eyes peeled for any sudden movements.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Rookies are very impressed by the General and follow him towards the cottage. Three heads peep into the mentor’s cottage through a window and see Mandavya scribbling away, even mumbling at times. The general gives the go signal to the rookies and the three of them storm into the cottage and take control of all the water sources before Mandavya can say what.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “What the?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “You are under arrest.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “What for? What is this nonsense? I have a deadline to make.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Playing the fool, I see. Not a very original ploy.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya </b>(irritated): “I was finally in the writing zone. And now thanks to you morons I’ve lost the chariot of thought.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Veteran soldiers walk in with Sagar and the two bandits.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Soldiers</b>: “We found the jewels and the thieves.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">General looks at Mandavya with an amused smile.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Let me guess. You have never seen these men before.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “As a matter of fact I haven’t.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Ugh! Arrest all of them.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “This is unacceptable. I won’t stand for it. I have my rights.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Oh the rights, I forgot. Soldier, read him his rights.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Soldier 2</b>: “What rights?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Exactly!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mandavya is now fuming with anger. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Gentlemen, prepare the horses. We are taking the jewelry back to the palace. Bind the thieves, that includes Mandavya and take them all to the King. Let him decide what he wants to do with them.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">General steps out. The vets bind the bandits and carry the loot to the horses. The rookies are left in charge of Mandavya. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “Alright fine, I will come along and settle this matter with the King. Hopefully he has more sense than your General. I just want a sip of water before I come with you.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Rookie 1</b>: “NO! No water. You come with us now.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “No need to over react. All I want is a sip of water.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mandavya starts reaching for a water bowl. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Rookie 2</b>: “Watch out. Do something!!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Rookie 1 panics and gives in to his first instinct. He impales Mandavya with a spear and Mandavya falls to his knees. Blood starts gushing out of his stomach. Rookie 2 smacks Rookie 1 in head.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Rookie 2</b>: “What have you done?!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Rookie 2 runs to the General.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “What now?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Rookie 2</b>: “There has been an accident. Mandavya fell on the spear.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Fuck me without ghee.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">At the palace.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>King Devapann</b>: “Yes! My General has returned. Tell me, did you catch the scum?” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Yes your majesty.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>King Devapann</b>: “Good. And the jewels?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “We have them.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>King Devapann</b>: “Bravo! You and your men have made me proud again.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Your majesty the mission did not go as smoothly as we’d hoped.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>King Devapann</b>: “Well, nothing a bag of gold coins can’t fix I’m sure.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Actually, a yogic mentor was involved in the operation.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>King Devapann</b>: “Wait what?! Please tell me you did not piss him off.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Um…he was impaled…”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">King goes face palm. Courtiers gasp.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “…in the stomach…”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Courtiers cringe.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “…by our soldier.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>King Devapann</b>: “So he is dead.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Ordinarily, this would be the kind of injury that you succumb to. However, the yogic mentor used his yogic powers to stay alive. He should be here shortly with my soldiers. They are helping him make his way to the court as we speak.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>King Devapann</b> (bites his knuckles): “Somebody punch someone.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Rookie 2 smacks Rookie 1 on the head and Rookie 1 retorts by punching Rookie 2 in the arm.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Here comes the mentor now.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b> (in deep pain): “Wa-ter.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Courtiers</b>: Silent gasps.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Minister</b>: “Somebody get him some <i>wine</i> for his pain.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b> (gulps some wine and then begins to speak): “I have lived an honest life and yet here I am with my guts spilling out. At first I did not know whom to blame for this unlawful persecution. The soldiers who carried out the act? But they were only obeying their General’s orders. So the General then, but he is only obeying the King who commands him.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The King gulps.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “But no, I’ll go to the very root of the problem. The problem is systemic. It is the system that needs to be changed. And so I will take it up with Dharma, the one who wrote our laws and constitution.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>King Devapann</b>: “You are so wise.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “I have a couple of favors to ask.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>King Devapann</b>: “Anything you want.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “Arrange a ride for me to Dharma’s office and take care of my graduate students.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>King Devapann</b>: “Done and done.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And so Mandavya was escorted by the General himself. On the way…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “Wa-ter.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “You will get it first thing in Dharma’s office.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Dharma’s office was an old dingy government office building. Mandavya and the General were greeted by the reception official, a thin old bored woman.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b>: “Could we get some water please?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Reception official / R.O</b>.(never taking her head away from the papyrus about Angallywood she was reading): “No water allowed on government premises.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General</b> (grinning sheepishly): “Sorry Mandavya.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “I would like to speak with Dharma.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R. O</b>.: “Please fill out these papyrus and take a token, you’re lucky the wait will be just under two hours today.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “What? This is an emergency. Can’t you see I have a spear lodged in my stomach?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>R.O.</b> (looks at Mandavya): “You’re right. What was I thinking? You need to fill in the pink papyrus in addition to the ones I provided. Standard non-liability agreement, in case you kick the bucket on our premises. Surprisingly, it’s more common than you’d think.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b> (appalled): “This is unacceptable…”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>General </b>(interrupts Mandavya in the middle of his tirade and takes Mandavya by the shoulder): “Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll handle this.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mandavya sits in the waiting room, fuming with anger, sweat dripping on the binding of the spear. One hour later, Mandavya was escorted into Dharma’s office room. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Dharma</b>: “Come in…Mandavya is it? Yes, I have your papyruses.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “Look at me! I don’t deserve this. I have lived an honest li…”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Dharma</b>: “Let me see. Impaled with spear for crimes of the highest orders. Murders, 39 of them.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “What are you talking about? You obviously have the wrong papers.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Dharma </b>(chuckles): “Oh no, I have the right papers. You’ve killed countless bees, mosquitoes and flies when you were four.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “What? You’re kidding me!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Dharma</b>: “Oh no, I’m perfectly serious.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “How can you accuse me of crimes that I did when I was a child?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Dharma</b>: “Oh, so I should let you off the hook is it? What about the pain and suffering of the bees and the flies and the mosquitoes? The pain was very real.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b> (losing it): “I’ve had it with your nonsense. You have no idea what it is to live by these idiotic rules you have created. So I see it fit that as a punishment you live by those very idiotic rules.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Dharma</b>: “Spare me the melodrama. There is no water allowed on these premises. You can do nothing.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mandavya pulls out the spear from his stomach; the spear is soaked in blood and sweat. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Mandavya</b>: “Shit just got real.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mandavya then shoots the spear in Dharma’s direction and it lodges into Dharma’s head.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Both Dharma and Mandavya collapse on the floor.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Dharma</b>: “Fuck me without ghee.” </div><div class="MsoNormal">---</div><div class="MsoNormal">After a brief blackout the next thing he knew, Dharma was swimming as fast as he could to beat the million others. The rules of the game were simple, you win you live, you lose you die. In an astonishing feat of swimming, Dharma won. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Dharma</b>: “GOOOAAAALLLLLL!!!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">9 months later, Vichitravirya’s wife Ambalika gave birth to a son. She named him Vidura. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Ganapati</b>: “Woah! The spear action was amazing! Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Ganapati imitates spears being thrown with his trunk. Vyasa smiles.</div></div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-4484847867288175142011-06-13T12:03:00.068-04:002011-06-13T23:17:00.690-04:00Chapter 13: Sagar's seven (part 2 of 3)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Previously on Sagar's seven <a href="http://aashraya.blogspot.com/2011/06/chapter-12-sagars-seven.html">here</a><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Bandit 1</b>: “Booty squad? Alright I’m in.”<br />
<b>Sagar</b>: “We will hit the palace on the day after the Sweet Sixteen party for the princess. We are going in as the cleaning crew. The booty squad has already penetrated the palace and has been working as the princess’s maids. They have paid off one of the security guards to let us in and out of the palace. But the security guards change shift very often so we have to time this just right. Once inside the palace, we have10 min to get to the bedroom, break into the dressing room, grab the loot and get the hell out of there.” </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
A soft-skinned lotus eyed woman enters the room and all the men turn their attention to her. Sagar walks over to her.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
<b>Sagar</b>: “Booty Queen! I’m glad you made it safely?”<br />
<b>Booty Queen</b> (amused): “How cute? If only I had a gold coin for every patronizing man I met. Anyhow, I’m afraid I don’t have too much time to chit chat. The princess will notice if I am missing for too long. Here is the key to the dressing room. It took me a month to get the copy made. Put it to good use. Good luck.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
Booty Queen leaves as quickly as she had appeared.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
<b>Bandit 1</b> (whistles): “What a woman!”<br />
<b>Sagar</b> (snaps his fingers): “As I was saying. It is very important to not lose focus in the dressing room and leave within the allotted time. Got it? Game on.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
A skinny boy knocks and walks into the room.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
<b>Boy</b>: “Shiru is here to meet with you Boss”.<br />
<b>Sagar</b>: “Go over the plan again. I don’t want any mistakes. I’ll be back soon.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
Meanwhile at the palace, King Devapann<b> </b>and his council are discussing Yayati and his saggy balls. </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
<b>King Devapann</b>: “This is why I don’t go around seducing women along the river banks or in the jungles. It is so risky. How can you trust some random stranger you met at the river bank?”<br />
<b>Minister 1</b>: “To top it off, King Yayati managed to piss off Sukracharya in the grant application season.”<br />
<b>Minister 2</b>: “Yeah, don’t mess with those yogic mentors with their woo water. If you do, your ass is grass.”<br />
<b>King Devapann</b>: “I don’t know what he was thinking. You have to use your common sense to stay out of trouble. If you are the king you can order whoever pleases you to well come to the palace and please you. All this running around behind women like sissies. Where are all the men I say?”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
And then King Devapann uttered the famous last words that so many of us have foolishly uttered. </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
<b>King Devapann</b>: “And running into trouble with yogic mentors? Please that could never happen to me.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
The cruel universe with a twisted sense of humor let out an evil laugh and thought ‘challenge accepted’.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">D-day arrives. Sagar, Bandit 1 and Bandit 2 are dressed up as the cleaning crew and haul their cart full of paraphernalia to the main palace gate. At the first security check point the guards screen the goods in the cart and pat down the men to check for concealed weapons. The guards look visibly tired from the late shift of the Sweet Sixteen party. They do a half ass security check of the goods in the cart. The high pitched screaming of teenage girls had taken its toll on the security. The bandit crew makes through the first security check point. </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
Next they have to go through gate 12B which was the entrance to the dhobi square. The security guard at gate 12B had been paid off to let them through. Sagar spots the guard who in turn gives a slight nod of recognition. Just as the cart gets closer to Gate 12B a burly guard stops the cart. </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
<b>Burly guard</b>: “Where do you think you are going?”<br />
<b>Sagar</b>: “We are the cleaning crew to clean up after the party. We were told to report to gate 12B.”<br />
<b>Burly guard</b>: “Do you have the work approval scroll?”<br />
<b>Sagar</b>: “Why yes. The work approval scroll.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
Sagar spreads his palm in the direction of Bandit 1.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
<b>Bandit 1</b>: “Work approval scroll.” </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
Bandit 1 spreads his empty palm in the direction of Bandit 2. Bandit 2 scrambles inside the back of the cart and digs out a scroll. Sagar hands it over to the Burly guard. Burly guard inspects the scroll. </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
<b>Burly guard</b>: “The seal looks authentic. But you are headed in the wrong direction. You have to report to gate 14 first.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
Sagar not wanting to push his luck decides to follow the guard’s instructions and heads to gate 14. After rolling in the direction of gate 14 bandit 1 sneaks a peek at the burly guard. The burly guard stares back at bandit 1. Bandit 1 manages a smile and looks toward gate 14.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
<b>Bandit 1</b>: “The guard is still watching us.”<br />
<b>Sagar</b>: “I guess we have to make it through Gate 14 and catch up with the Booty squad…somehow.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">At gate 14 there are 2 guards stationed. They seem to be in a cheerful mood. </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b>: “Excuse me sir, we are the cleaning crew. We were told report to you.”<br />
<b>Guard 1</b>: “I wasn’t told to let any cleaning crew through today. Do you know about this Jaggu?”<br />
<b>Jaggu</b>: “Nope. No cleaning crew news.”<br />
<b>Sagar</b>: “Well may be there was a mistake in the paper work. The pigeons were sent out at the last minute by the ministry.”<br />
<b>Guard 1</b>: “Well then sucks for you. No orders, no getting in.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
Sagar gives a vacant stare at his accomplices who have equally vacant expressions. An impeccably dressed man walks up to the security to get through. </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
<b>Guard 1</b>: “Salaam Raoji. Last night was spectacularly managed.”<br />
<b>Raoji</b>: “Thanks. Who are they?” (referring to the crew)<br />
<b>Guard 1</b>: “Cleaning crew. No orders came through for letting them in though. So we are sending them back.”<br />
<b>Raoji</b>: “Oh thank God! I’ve been begging the labor ministry for years. The papyrus work finally went through.”<br />
<b>Guard 1</b>: “You know about this?”<br />
<b>Raoji</b>: “I am not letting you send them back. I desperately need extra hands in there.”<br />
<b>Guard 1</b>: “Okay, so long as it’s not my head on the line.”<br />
<b>Raoji</b>: “I will keep an eye on them personally. Come along boys.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
The bandits can’t believe their luck and start unloading the cart.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
<b>Raoji</b>: “Oh no, you won’t need those ghastly bourgeois brands in there. I will give you all the supplies you need. Now hurry along, we don’t have all day.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
Raoji starts walking at a fast pace. Afraid of losing their chance to get in, the bandits run along Raoji’s side.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
<b>Raoji</b>: “The guards are always so paranoid. Anyway, we had to get one dozen elephants for last night’s party and they have made a terrible mess in the stables. So I want you to clean up the stables before the western breeze kicks in and starts blowing the ghastly smell into the palace.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
The bandit crew is now reluctantly following Raoji with visions of giant piles of elephant poo.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
<b>Raoji</b>: “Here you are. This is where you report to me, in the main servant quarters. Gopal will show you where the supply closet is.”<br />
<b>Booty Fool</b>: “There you are Raoji.”<br />
<b>Raoji </b>(not pleased): “I’m very busy today.”<br />
<b>Booty Fool</b>: “I don’t mean to take up too much of your time. But the princess would like the sheets in her room changed again. The staff put in pink sheets but the princess would much rather have the mauve ones.”<br />
<b>Raoji</b>: “Everyone is busy. Her room was made up to her request. We have a full schedule today, the staff will get to it as soon as they can.”<br />
<b>Booty Fool</b>: “I don’t see these men doing anything. I can take them off your hands.”<br />
<b>Raoji</b>: “They are about to sanitize the stables.”<br />
<b>Booty Fool</b>: “Oh I’m sorry. I will let the princess know that the elephant stables have a higher priority than her room and I am sure she will be very understanding.”<br />
<b>Raoji</b>: “Grrr! Okay fine take them. I don’t have time for this. You three, report to me as soon as you are done with the princess’s room okay?”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Booty Fool starts moving away in the same hurry as Raoji. Bandit crew catches up with Booty Fool.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Bandit 1</b>: “Phew! That was close. We were…”<br />
<b>Booty Fool</b>: “Sshh! Keep some distance behind me, your head low and follow me.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
Booty Fool navigates them through the palatial labyrinth. As they make their way up the stairs Booty Fool confronts the bandit crew.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Booty Fool</b>: “WTF were you doing at Gate 14? I specifically told you to go to Gate 12B.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b>: “Something came up okay. But we made it in didn’t we?”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Booty Fool</b>: “Well hardly. You would be picking up elephant poop if it hadn’t been for me. I will take you to the princess’s room because God knows the Booty Squad wants to get some money and be done with this maid stint. So don’t screw up.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b>: “Don’t worry. We have it under control now.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Booty Fool</b>: “Alright. Here we are. The dressing room is the first door to the right. Good luck.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">The Bandit crew opens the door to the princess’s bedroom. The three bandits enter the palatial room. Giant windows lined with silk curtains. In the center of the room there is a plush bed with a thousand pillows of different colors and sizes, the bed posts are covered with fresh flowers and the butterfly motif runs through the walls. A fragrant lavender perfume pervades the room. </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Bandit 1</b>: “Girls…yeesh!”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">The bandits swiftly move to the dressing room. The door is locked. Sagar thrusts his empty hand in front of Bandit 1.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b>: “The key.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Bandit 1 thrusts his hand in front of Bandit 2.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Bandit 1</b>: “The key.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Bandit 2</b>: “I don’t have it.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Bandit 1</b>: “What do mean you don’t have it? I gave it to you to keep it safely, remember?”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Bandit 2</b>: “Yes, and I did. It is safely tucked away in the cleaning supplies.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b>: “Are you fucking serious?”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Bandit 1</b> (smacks Bandit 2 on his head): “You idiot.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">The room reverberates with a mysterious voice: “I-diot”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b>: “What the hell was that?”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Bandit 2 stands closer to Bandit 1 and they all look around feeling a bit tense.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Bandit 2</b>: “I heard the palace was haunted. Maybe it’s true.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b>: “Alright, we don’t have time for this superstitious nonsense. But if we don’t figure out how to get through this door soon, we are going to be screwed.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Mysterious voice </b>(reverberates): “Screwed!” </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">The bandits are now visibly tense.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Bandit 1</b>: “It’s probably best that we leave.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Bandit 2</b>: “Should we clean the room before leaving.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Sagar gives angry stares to Bandits 1 and 2. Suddenly, the bedroom door springs open and two shadowy figures walk in. The bandits quickly grab things closest to them and assume fight poses. Sagar stands on one leg in a coiled position with a pillow in his hand, Bandit 1 points a vase like a sword and Bandit 2 holds a chair over his head. Booty Queen and Booty Luscious enter the door.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Booty Queen</b>: “At ease soldiers.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b> (sheepishly): “Oh thank God.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Booty Queen</b>: “So everything in order?”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b>: “Well…would you happen to have an extra copy of the key to the dressing room?”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Booty Luscious</b> (disgruntled sighs): “I told you they were not reliable.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Booty Queen</b> (miffed): “It took me one month and some unspeakable favors to get the key forged. One month! And yet here you are without the key. The one key! Alright this is the final time Booty Squad comes to your rescue Sagar. If you fail, I swear we will personally hunt you down.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Mysterious voice</b>: “Hunt!”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Sagar and the bandits look startled.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Booty Luscious</b>: “Oh relax. It’s the parrot.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">For the first time Sagar and his goons notice a parrot perched up on a ledge in the ceiling.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Booty Queen</b>: “The parrot has the original key on the necklace around his neck. The bastard will only answer to the princess. No matter, I know how to deal with him.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Booty Queen brandishes a slender wooden tube concealed in her waist band, aims it at the parrot and as soon as she blows into the cylinder a dart darts straight towards the parrot and lodges into the parrot’s neck. The parrot plunges towards the floor as the word “screwed” echo into the room in the same mysterious voice.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Booty Queen and Booty Luscious leave the room and the bandits hustle to get the key. They open the dressing room and furiously pack all the jewels and clothes into the laundry bag that Raoji had so graciously provided.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b>: “Wrap it up boys. We are running out of time.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Bandit 1</b>: “Done, let’s scoot.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">The three walk in a hurry with overstuffed laundry bags.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Bandit 2</b>: “Which way are we going?” </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b> (pulls out a papyrus): “This way.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">They navigate the palace successfully to get to the gate with the paid off security guard. He lets them out. They hurry out to the cart by Gate 14. </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b>: “Load the stuff, quickly.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">All of them scamper into the cart. Just when the cart begins to moves, it is stopped. Raoji appears to have caught up with them.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Raoji</b>: “And where do you think you are going?”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b>: “Um…”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Raoji</b>: “Is that the laundry in the cart?”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Raoji eyes the cart carefully. One of the overstuffed cloth bags had ripped open to reveal some jewelry.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Raoji</b>: “Is that? Guards! Thieves!”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Sagar</b>: “It’s jail or bail boys.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Sagar whips the horses into action. The horses speed through the main gate as the guards prepare to give them a chase.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Vyasa</b>: “That’s it for now, come back next week for our next session.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Ganapati</b>: “What?! You can’t stop now.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><b>Vyasa</b>: “I can and I will.”</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></div><br />
</div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-48505817010865954982011-06-10T06:07:00.000-04:002011-06-10T06:07:47.363-04:00Le Goog's Les PaulSo Google did its part yesterday, for the innumerable masses trapped in cubicles doing mind numbingly boring (albeit well paying) jobs. In another stroke of genius, Google successfully decreased productivity worldwide by unleashing the Les Paul guitar doodle. Although the guitar doodle probably didn't touch the frenzy set off by the Pacman doodle, it was awesome! <br />
<br />
Here be Pirates soundtrack on google guitar doodle:<br />
<br />
<iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ss3_56f2nVQ?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
<br />
I quote Jack Black who quotes AC/DC: "We roll tonight ... to the guitar bite ... and for those about to rock ... I salute you."<br />
<br />
Rock on GoogleCrystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-38118318224930817792011-06-07T11:14:00.001-04:002011-06-13T12:04:57.509-04:00Chapter 12: Sagar's seven (part 1 of 3)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal">Vyasa (V) is animatedly describing a dramatic drama script that he has been working on to Ganapati (G). G is soaking in every word excitedly because he is a sucker for action drama. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V in his best voice over guy voice</b>: “In a world full of dirty laundry, is there hope? Coming soon to a stage near you. ‘Dhobi Ghat’. There is drama. ‘Hey Bhagwan, mere aakhri safed patloon par tumne ye keechad kyon uchala?’ There is action, ‘I need a washed pair of underwear stat. Dry stupid clothes dry’. There is romance. ‘Blank’. Okay scratch that.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Heh”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V (continues in a voice over guy voice)</b>: “Starring Lint Eastwood. Lint Eastwood voice over: ‘When you decided to wear unwashed undies, you had to ask yourself this question, do I feel lucky? Well do ya, punk?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">G pulls out the quill from his dhoti and revolves it: “Pow pow pow! I love Lint Eastwood!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “Also starring Dinu Washing-ton. Dinu voice ‘I am not going to bury my laundry. My laundry is going to bury me.’ The only way he can survive is by doing more laundry. Also starring, Silk Smitten. Silk Smitten runs jiggling in slow motion.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Ah! I miss Riverwatch.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “I don’t know man, breaking into Angallywood is tough. The politics…it’s killer but I can still deal with it. My half cousin’s wife’s uncle knows a guy who knows an assistant director. So I am pretty sure I can get around the bureaucracy with nepotism.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Well played.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “But they kill you with edits and censorship man! They stripped my script to some melodramatic sob story which only a masochist could read through and the ghastly dialogues, it’s like the script is written for a 4 y old, you know a really dumb 4 y old.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Well you could do the silly stuff until you have a leg in and then once you have some street cred move onto something you would like to do.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “Gah! You’re like my dad. That’s such a sell out mentality. I for one will adhere to my standards. I’m going to think big. I want to break the mould, put it out there.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Talk to me in five years”. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “I was thinking about this drama script called “Dhobi Ghat” where the laundry is a metaphor for life. It doesn’t matter who you are in life. Whether you are a king or a poor grad student, you always have some dirty laundry to do. Sure some people can throw money at the problem, get other people to do their laundry but the problem never goes away. There is always more laundry to do.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Obviously you have given a lot of thought to laundry”.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “And just like in life, with laundry we are confronted with choices. Should you play by the rules set by the clothes retailers on those itchy labels or should you risk it all and dare to wash the dry clean only clothes with the regular clothes? Should you sort the loads by the fabric composition or by color? If by fabric compo then where does the 50% cotton and 50% silk go? You see how I give life’s big questions a new perspective?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Yeah, mind blowing”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “Then there is the issue about color. You’d think it is a clear cut issue here. You should never mix the colored ones with the whites, cause then you are just asking for trouble.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Woah! Okay that’s going a bit too far”.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “We live in a sick world my friend. I had a room-mate once who not only mixed colors with whites, he washed the delicates and cottons together. What are we? Animals?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “No that’s not what I meant. I was alluding to the metaphor…”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “Forget about the metaphor. The coolest part about Dhobi Ghat is…you’ll never guess it. Okay ready?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Please tell me there won’t be any ghastly laundry puns.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “Well of course not.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Well good.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “Did that take a <i>load</i> off your mind.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Aargh!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “Okay okay, check it out, for realz this time. Ready? There will be no Dhobi Ghat in the whole story. People are going to expect it and they will keep waiting for it and I won’t give it to them. The movie will end abruptly and leave the audience hanging…like the laundry. I am going to totally go meta on the audience.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Wow! Is there something else you are looking into for, you know, back-up in case this thing doesn’t take off?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “I don’t know, I probably should. My stuff could be a bit too sublime for Angallywood. When the time comes I might get a regular job, just to pay the bills and such.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Yeah, good idea. So what about the dissertation?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V</b>: “Heh! I’ve been procrastinating I must admit. But now is as good a time as any to get back to it. Are you up for it?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>G</b>: “Am I? Let’s do this thing!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>V narrates</b>: “It was high noon. The sun was blazing. The royals and the guards were hung over from last night’s celebrations. The princess’s jewels had still not been taken to the treasury. Sagar the con man had kept the plan simple.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>1 month before...</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Sagar</b>: “All we have to do is break into a palace with security system that rivals that of Brahmastra Inc., which was last we tried impregnable. We need to cross the moat with hungry crocodiles, scale the giant wall which is 2000 feet high, get past about 3000 security personnel unnoticed, find the location of princess’s bedroom out of the 349 rooms in the palace, get past the princess and her maids, steal the jewelry and live off the money we make from selling the stash.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Bandit 1</b>: “This is impossible”.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Sagar</b>: “If by impossible you mean completely possible then yes.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Bandit 1</b>: “Okay I’m leaving”.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Bandit 2</b>: “Even if we somehow make it in there, are we supposed to carry the whole stash out of the place unnoticed?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Sagar</b>: “Yeah, ideally.”.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Bandit 1</b>: “And how many men do you think we need to do this job?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Sagar</b>: “Men? Have you heard of the Booty squad? Together we will be Sagar’s seven!”</div></div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-64624396905050501862011-06-05T06:28:00.000-04:002011-06-09T04:12:03.881-04:00Chapter 11: How Yayati got his mojo back<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i>(Here is a consolidated version of the Twitter episode. It reads like a Twitter feed, so start reading from the bottom.)</i><br />
<br />
gbappa<br />
@vyasagrad Alright jeez. So you don't have a good ending to the story. C u @D'rakshas.<br />
<br />
vyasagrad<br />
@gbappa What is with endings? Is it a happy ending? Is it a sad ending? Who cares? Yayati dies of old age and Puru dies of STD. Everybody dies G. That's how all stories end. There are no happy endings. No rainbows and butterflies. Alright? <br />
<br />
gbappa<br />
@vyasagrad wait what happens to Yayati and Puru?<br />
<br />
vyasagrad<br />
@gbappa The end of chapter 11, meet you @D'rakshas<br />
<br />
purutheguru<br />
@yayatithehotty God u r boring. I have some awesome ruling to do so if we can cut through the monologuing and get my youth back it would be great. Kthxbye.<br />
<br />
yayatithehotty<br />
@purutheguru Son, you gave me the greatest gift there was. Last year has been amazing. But I have learned there is more to life than sex, alcohol and rock and roll...<br />
<br />
(1 year later)<i><br />
</i><br />
purutheguru<br />
@yayatithehotty, @son1, @son2, @son3 See you at my crowning ceremony suckers.<br />
<br />
devyaniscool<br />
@yayatithehotty You disgust me.<br />
<br />
yayatithehotty<br />
@purutheguru Alright, since I seem to be running out of options I will take it if you throw in the phone# of the hotty wearing yellow flowers from last nights party. <br />
<br />
purutheguru<br />
@yayatithehotty The right to the throne you say? You are on like Hanuman. However, you can has my youth for 1 y only. <br />
<br />
yayatithehotty<br />
@purutheguru (aka son4) You are my last hope. Son please, be a man!<br />
<br />
<i>son3 has blocked yayatithehotty</i><br />
<br />
son2<br />
@yayatithehotty fwd re:tweet from @son1 :p Also u need a new handle...hotty?! <br />
<br />
yayatithehotty<br />
@son2 fwd tweet for @son1<br />
<br />
son1<br />
@yayatithehotty No dad, your kingdom is not worth the saggy balls.<br />
<br />
yayatithehotty<br />
@son1 Son, I once more have the urge to taste the nectar of youth.Would you be willing to trade your youth for the right the rule the kingdom. <br />
<br />
(15 years later.Yayati's 4 sons have grown into horny young teens and Yayati is a horny young teen at heart).<br />
<br />
yayatithehotty <br />
@sukracharya OK fine pwn3d my ass. I'm begging you...gimme my mojo back. #cbmb<br />
<br />
yayatithehotty <br />
@sukracharya I LOL @ ur curse. If anything the gray hair makes me look dignified. Wait what's happening with my balls? #cbmb<br />
<br />
Sexy Sarmishta<br />
@yayatithehotty Great! I'm preggers too...there goes my figure #cbmb<br />
<br />
sukracharya<br />
@yayatithehotty Curse u Yayati, I missed the grant deadline thnx 2 all this family drama. Prepare 2 be old and mojoless #cbmb<br />
<br />
yayatithehotty <br />
@devyaniscool Ur pregnant! But more importantly, u told on me? Not cool!<br />
<br />
Devyani Iscool<br />
@sukracharya I HATE YOU!!! All u care about is ur stoopid grants & research. FYI, I’m preggo and Yayati cheated on me with Sarmishta #CBMB<br />
<br />
sarmishtasposse<br />
@sexysarmishta Who sleeps with my bff and cheats on devyani? PINK FLOWERED YELLOW PANTS! #cbmb<br />
<br />
sarmishtasposse <br />
@sexysarmishta Oh no U didn't! Deets pls<br />
<br />
yayatithehotty <br />
@devyaniscool Looks like the dhobi mixed up the laundry again...nothing to be suspicious about...he he...I looooove you...<3 <3 :* #cbmb<br />
<br />
yayatithehotty <br />
@sexysarmishta Crap! 2 words for you...direct messages #cbmb<br />
<br />
devyaniscool <br />
@sexysarmishta And how would you know? #cbmb<br />
<br />
sexysarmishta <br />
@yayatithehotty Were they yellow with pink flowers? #cbmb<br />
<br />
yayatithehotty <br />
Is mourning the loss of his favorite underpants. @devyaniscool Get off twitter and look for them already. #cbmb<br />
<br />
sukracharya <br />
Hi. This is the Sukracharya. I just joined.<br />
<br />
devyaniscool <br />
@sukracharya Daaadd! Sarmishta is flirting with Yayati. Make it stop. #cbmb<br />
<br />
sexysarmishta <br />
@yayatithehotty You were looking sexy at the river bank yesterday, have you been working out? #cbmb<br />
<br />
sexysarmishta <br />
@devyanisposse Hi Devyani, what's up with the new ID? #cbmb<br />
<br />
devyanisposse <br />
@sexysarmishta @sarmishtasposse @devyaniscool Devyani so doesn't have a mustache. Devyani, as her ID states, is cool. #cbmb<br />
<br />
crystalblur <br />
I have 1 from the internet. Q: Why do most gay men have mustaches? A: To hide their stretch marks.<br />
<br />
vyasagrad <br />
@gbappa Groan!!<br />
<br />
gbappa <br />
@vyasagrad E-nuff with the stache jokes already :p<br />
<br />
vyasagrad <br />
@gbappa Eeeeeeeeee who?<br />
<br />
gbappa <br />
@vyasagrad Eeeeeeeeee<br />
<br />
vyasagrad <br />
@gbappa ooh I luv knock knock jokes...who's there?<br />
<br />
gbappa <br />
@vyasagrad Knock knock<br />
<br />
vyasagrad <br />
@gbappa Do U know any mustache jokes?<br />
<br />
sarmishtasposse <br />
@sexysarmishta Wait I got another 1...what is she (@devyaniscool) auditioning for? a porn movie...u know bcoz of the stache...haha LOLZ<br />
<br />
sexysarmishta <br />
@sarmishtasposse Haha G1 You'd think she would at least bleach the stache for the wedding day<br />
<br />
sarmishtasposse <br />
@sexysarmishta @devyaniscool LOLZ her dhoti will go well with her stache<br />
<br />
sexysarmishta <br />
@devyaniscool Heard you proposed to @yayatithehotty? Will you be wearing dhotis next?<br />
<br />
vyasagrad <br />
@gbappa Or so she thinks...muahahahaha<br />
<br />
gbappa <br />
@devyaniscool hooks up with @yayatithehotty ? Good for Devyani<br />
<br />
yayatithehotty <br />
so this is what it feels like to be married...<br />
<br />
devyaniscool <br />
Wedding day was almost perfect except for Dad’s goof up of getting @sexysarmishta to become my maid of honor. Maid dad, not maid of honor.<br />
<br />
gbappa <br />
@vyasagrad Stop padding up these stories like ur resume<br />
<br />
vyasagrad <br />
@gbappa R u crazy? 140 tweets or less…maybe<br />
<br />
gbappa <br />
@vyasagrad episode 11 in 140 characters or less?<br />
<br />
crystalblur <br />
Chapter 11: How Yayati got his mojo back<br />
</div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-36444912699228297082009-12-24T20:24:00.007-05:002011-06-09T06:02:39.828-04:00Must watch movies and more<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: justify;">Updated on: 5Jan10 <br />
<br />
Ola readors and readoritas! Enjoying Christmas break by doing all kinds of fun things I suppose. If you have access to snow you must try making some Calvin snowmen. Buck and I made some and it was the most fun ever! We had a couple of evil snowmen attacking little snowmen with butter knives. Evil is so much fun :) <br />
<br />
Anyhoo...I have decided to start an ongoing list of must watch, must avoid and everything in between movies. Will start with a list of recent (post 2007) releases ‘coz I recently got a Netflix account and have started catching up on movies released in the past couple of years. Here we go: <br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Awesome</span> <br />
<br />
1) 9 (The animation, the beasts, the creativity…what’s not to like…well okay the ending could’ve been better, but still the awesomeness cannot be denied.) <br />
<br />
2) District 9 (I loved the aliens, the plot, the script…not one boring moment). <br />
<br />
3) Doubt (The amazing Meryl Streep! Script and plot rocked my world...absolutely loved it). <br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Awesome but depressing</span> <br />
<br />
1) The boy in the striped pajamas (Nazi Germany as seen through two eight year old boys. You never see the brutality on the screen and somehow that makes it even more chilling. It is a brilliant movie). <br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Surprisingly entertaining</span> <br />
<br />
1) Bolt (From the previews I had low expectations but it what a cute movie it turned out to be). <br />
<br />
2) Julie and Julia (Brisk, light and as usual Meryl Streep rocks!). <br />
<br />
3) The devil wears Prada (Meryl Streep again! Plus you get to see fabulous clothes paraded around). <br />
<br />
4) Tulpan (I know I shouldn't judge a country based on a farce such as Borat but I did. Am I glad I watched Tulpan. The balance has been restored. I will continue to judge). <br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Only if you are really bored</span> <br />
<br />
1) Hancock (It was a very bizarre plot but at least it never got boring or annoying). <br />
<br />
2) Enchanted (Amy Adams is adorable. Fairy tale princess on the cynical streets of New York…it coaxes a smile out of you). <br />
<br />
3) Ella enchanted (Cinder-ella with a twist…me likey). <br />
<br />
4) Land of the lost (Matt Lauer bits were hilarious. Other than that it was a drag. So watch the first and last 5 min of the movie and the rest is avoidable). <br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Could not take more than 15 min of this crap</span> <br />
<br />
1) Confessions of a shopaholic (Seriously, get a script before making a movie). <br />
<br />
2) Step brothers (I love Will Ferrell but this was just too crass). <br />
<br />
3) Nobody knows (I’m referring to the Japanese one…apparently there is a Korean movie by the same name too. The movie is well-made, based on a true story yadayadayada but it was like watching a 2 h rape scene…seriously sadistic! Watch it only if you want to punish yourself). <br />
<br />
4) The code (Yikes…didn’t watch beyond the first 10 min…may be it gets better, didn’t care to find out). <br />
<br />
5) Marley & me (Depressing and annoying. It is not a badly made movie but being an avid watcher of 'the dog whisperer' I found the uncontrolled mayhem that the dog unleashes throughout the movie highly irritating. I have low tolerance for people who adopt pets and then don't do a good job of taking care of them). <br />
<br />
6) The tale of Despereaux (Possible the most boring animated movie I have watched). <br />
<br />
7) Mall cop (Crap). <br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Addictive TV shows that make you hate having a job</span>: <br />
<br />
1) Sopranos (This show made me crave Italian food like I've never before. Buy lots of pasta and Ragu with the DVDs) <br />
<br />
2) 24-season 1 (Every episode ends in a cliffhanger. So the best way to keep a day job while doing a marathon with this show is to stop watching it in the middle of the episode. That way you can stop without going nuts). <br />
<br />
3) Six feet under (I just loved this show!) <br />
<br />
4) Dexter (Initially I didn't care for the show, the science is pretty crappy, plus the guy who plays the main character in Dexter is a homosexual in six feet under, so it took me a while to 'accept' Dexter but now I am hooked). <br />
<link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMinal%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMinal%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx" rel="themeData"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMinal%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml" rel="colorSchemeMapping"></link></div><style>
<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:1; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;} @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} p.MsoListParagraph, li.MsoListParagraph, div.MsoListParagraph {mso-style-priority:34; mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:.5in; mso-add-space:auto; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} p.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst {mso-style-priority:34; mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-type:export-only; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in; margin-left:.5in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-add-space:auto; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} p.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle {mso-style-priority:34; mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-type:export-only; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in; margin-left:.5in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-add-space:auto; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} p.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast {mso-style-priority:34; mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-type:export-only; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:.5in; mso-add-space:auto; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoPapDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; margin-bottom:10.0pt; line-height:115%;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} /* List Definitions */ @list l0 {mso-list-id:270824969; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:132698422 67698705 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715;} @list l0:level1 {mso-level-text:"%1\)"; mso-level-tab-stop:none; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in;} @list l1 {mso-list-id:654334014; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:546353918 67698705 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715;} @list l1:level1 {mso-level-text:"%1\)"; mso-level-tab-stop:none; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in;} @list l2 {mso-list-id:1405638174; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:-666320164 67698705 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715;} @list l2:level1 {mso-level-text:"%1\)"; mso-level-tab-stop:none; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in;} @list l3 {mso-list-id:1485969075; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:-714022742 67698705 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715;} @list l3:level1 {mso-level-text:"%1\)"; mso-level-tab-stop:none; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in;} @list l4 {mso-list-id:1555581903; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:411066238 67698705 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715;} @list l4:level1 {mso-level-text:"%1\)"; mso-level-tab-stop:none; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in;} ol {margin-bottom:0in;} ul {margin-bottom:0in;} -->
</style><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="text-indent: -0.25in;"></div></div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-11688631187476898822009-11-20T16:13:00.005-05:002011-06-09T04:12:03.882-04:00Of shrooms and koopalings<div style="text-align: justify;">Dear Princess Peach,<br />
<br />
Hi! In case you are wondering where I am and what's taking so long I thought I should write. I am stuck in the freaking desert for the last 3 days. Yes Luigi is with me but that hasn't made things any easier. Sure we are getting better each day but looks like you will be with the koopalings for a good few months.<br />
<br />
Rest assured, if we don't give up on rescuing you and make it to the end I want to say this...you better be prepared to give one hell of a blow job.<br />
<br />
Best,<br />
Mario<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-76792708754568872892009-07-28T23:04:00.001-04:002009-07-28T23:08:12.954-04:005 toes make a right...foot<div style="text-align: justify;">Ding! Tired feet ready themselves to exit the subway at Penn Station NY. “This is Canal street”, proclaims the train announcement. One man is appalled. The tired feet march on. One pair of feet recklessly run at 20mph in the quest to catch a connecting train. Mad rush. The running feet nearly run over a man. The man who was almost run over utters a single word, “Jeez!” The 20mph feet screech in their sneakers which in turn give out a high pitched squeal. Then without acknowledging the mini outburst, the feet carry on at 15 mph. Around the corner, a quarter succumbs to gravity. The sound of metal colliding with the floor reverberates only for a moment. The coin finds a resting place in the wet brown ick of the subway. Amazingly, the coin is not orphaned and makes its way back into the wallet. At least one person is appalled and feels heartfelt gratitude for the invention of credit cards. The feet carry on, turning another corner and stumbling upon the familiar face of ‘Sleepy Lester’ and his harmonica. This time the feet are tempted to slow down or even stop. But they don’t…they march on. </div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-73059060844184545642009-06-17T15:26:00.004-04:002011-06-09T04:12:03.883-04:00Crystal and the physics of kayaking<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYw12ortnA5Hfo5X4mjRPs1kEEObeK3ImhrnqEAntJwxs9U7DcWkWKqbrGb09gbaUN_ThSlDmCLuELzQWiyl2-2htyndhJKuKOch4shcNnusYf9-vymJ3uQpXLt_EiUcX3CzL7/s1600-h/kayaking+012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYw12ortnA5Hfo5X4mjRPs1kEEObeK3ImhrnqEAntJwxs9U7DcWkWKqbrGb09gbaUN_ThSlDmCLuELzQWiyl2-2htyndhJKuKOch4shcNnusYf9-vymJ3uQpXLt_EiUcX3CzL7/s320/kayaking+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348380522965763858" border="0" /></a> <br />
<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CFriend%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">I went kayaking last weekend! Never thought I would kayak because a) the kayaks look like flimsy, non-reliable contraptions of doom and b) I have very miserable hand strength. I struggle with sealed water bottle caps…yes it is that bad. <br />
</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">But then I met Buck’s friend Chip. Chip is in his 50s (or 60s?), very active, athletic and enthusiastic about kayaking. He convinced me to give it a try and I thought okay, it can’t be that bad. I have rowed a boat in Powai or somewhere in Mumbai and I can swim albeit frog style. So I should be able to handle it. Happily I agreed and made my way to a kayaking lesson. <br />
</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Chip of course was very excited and when we got to his house, we were confronted with 3 kayaks locked and loaded on top of his Jetta. How do you fit 3 kayaks on a medium sized 4-door car you ask? Apparently you need some basic knowledge of trigonometry, a little bit of integration and derivatizing and then multiply the whole thing with Plank’s constant to get a unique number that does not appear in the Fibonacci sequence. So obviously it is yellow, green and white from left to right, left and right being relative terms which you can figure out using Einstein’s constant of relativity. It is good to know all the constants, it evens out all the equations and stabilizes them. Man, was I glad I took all those math and physics classes or we would have never headed out to the water. Then to remember the order in which the Kayaks go on the car Chip came up with an acronym. Of course later on we forgot the acronym, so then we had to come up with another acronym to remember the first one. It is all very hazy now.</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lesson 1</span>: Getting into the kayak.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Yeah, it starts there. How do you get into a wobbly kayak that is more tipsy than Jack Sparrow at 10 in the morning? First you take a journey through time and go back to the buoyancy lessons you took in the physics class. Multiply the kayak with the buoyancy constant to make the kayak stable and then leap ‘crouching tiger hidden slip disk’ style and aim to land straight into the kayak cockpit. If you try this, let me know how it worked out for you. Then you find your center of gravity which is usually right under your butt. Now it is time to bid good bye to land sweet land and make way to the watery grave. <br />
</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lesson 2</span>: Rowing </p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Apparently you do not need hand strength to row a kayak if you are doing it correctly. The stroke requires you to use the abdominal and back muscles. I know what you are thinking. An ab workout in the middle of a lake? Where do I sign up?</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">It is pretty much like learning to ride a bike. You balance the kayak with your knees, if the wave tips the kayak to the right you lift your right knee which is wedged against the kayak side to lift it up. The trick is to not over compensate, coz once you get into a pendulum swing the sin theta will increase and what that means in layman terms is that you are about to swim with the fishes. <br />
</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">So that also brings up the other problem of rowing. The oar is held the same way one would hold a balancing stick on the tight rope. Then without bending the elbows too much you begin to row. To row correctly you need to swing your torso side to side. The problem with that is …you have to move the upper torso. Once you find your center of gravity, you don’t want to mess with the posture too much. So that’s the challenge. Add to that, an uneven strength in the strokes depending on whether one is righty or lefty. I being righty, the kayak kept steering to the left. So navigating was an added challenge. <br />
</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">I kept venturing out in the center of the lake because I felt the water was steadier there as compared to the water’s edge which had more of the ripples and waves. However, I realized that it was a very bad idea for a n00b to do that. Thankfully, my beginners luck spared me the agony of toppling into the water. However, Buck wasn’t as lucky. His kayak took a bad turn with gargantuan sin theta values and Buck was water bound. The important thing is not to panic. Even when you can’t feel the ground beneath your feet, which Buck didn’t. So now there was the task to get Buck ashore and tow the kayak and oar to the shore. Buck pretty much had to swim to the shore because we weren’t familiar with techniques of getting back into the kayak in the middle of the lake. Plus the gravitational constant is too high for you to do crouching tiger. Add to that <st1:city><st1:place>Newton</st1:place></st1:city>’s second and third law of motion. Buck as a result was left with little or no thrust.</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">I will stick with the shore next time. <br />
</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Surprisingly Buck didn’t get psyched out by the dupki he took in the water and went for another round of kayaking. I on the other hand called it a day. <br />
</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lesson 3</span> is in July.</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Meanwhile I found these videos of kayaking on you tube. Simply amazing. Hope you guys will get excited about kayaking after reading this post and put all your physics and math skills to test. <br />
</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><br />
<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ff_te_yjcHM&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ff_te_yjcHM&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object> <br />
<br />
<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/POzGaW-4n1I&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/POzGaW-4n1I&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-63572715912366258272009-06-11T19:36:00.008-04:002011-06-09T03:42:46.753-04:00Alice in wonderland<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTRxYl16vXSOQGTk5WyYIX219GNfWG3O5fVOWhY2vroSQGWe8EM0wOt6zKgdCbJsEX3hO1bynero3wec3jXHR__wcs4rSFmQd7vucn3Ye4tjQTq3aNSia60tCgTz20arDojtV/s1600-h/Annotated+alice.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTRxYl16vXSOQGTk5WyYIX219GNfWG3O5fVOWhY2vroSQGWe8EM0wOt6zKgdCbJsEX3hO1bynero3wec3jXHR__wcs4rSFmQd7vucn3Ye4tjQTq3aNSia60tCgTz20arDojtV/s320/Annotated+alice.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346218337523105794" border="0" /></a><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CFriend%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">I decided to take another plunge into the rabbit hole last week when I came across “The Annotated Alice”. This time around, I had a <st1:city><st1:place>Gardner</st1:place></st1:city> by my side, Martin was his name and he revealed that there were many a things left unexplored when I first visited wonderland. Cleverly hidden math riddles, wordplay and illustrations, I was dazzled by it all. Curiouser and curiouser as I got, alas a dreadful question I asked, which was quite so eloquently put by Smokie when they sang…</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style=";font-size:12;" ><span style="font-size:78%;">T</span><span style="font-size:78%;">wenty-four years just waiting for a chance,</span></span></i> <br />
<i style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style=";font-size:12;" ><span style="font-size:78%;">To tell her how I'm feeling, maybe get a second glance,</span></span></i> <br />
<i style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style=";font-size:12;" ><span style="font-size:78%;">Now I've got to get used to not living next door to Alice...</span></span></i> <br />
<span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:78%;" ><st1:city><st1:place><i style=""><span style="">Alice</span></i></st1:place></st1:city><i style=""><span style="">, who the fuck is </span></i><st1:city><st1:place><i style=""><span style="">Alice</span></i></st1:place></st1:city></span><i style=""><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12;" ><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;">?</span></span></span></i> <br />
<i style=""><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12;" ><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;"></span></span></span></i></div><i style=""><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12;" ><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;"> <br />
</span></span> <!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><!--[endif]--></span></i><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGcYSwRSvyi55jXU9W5ip6NfZdSsPPgBYTklrT05GHkpLyGArIMVi0DcntwoufYoB68pOaZgLiWtkW_7K9kiPWL6nKKJUy1sFf_ly5QZmzcvHPMSKHtT-DONJpB0oJLWkJIuu/s1600-h/Lewis+Carroll-Alice+Liddell+as+Beggar+Maid.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 221px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGcYSwRSvyi55jXU9W5ip6NfZdSsPPgBYTklrT05GHkpLyGArIMVi0DcntwoufYoB68pOaZgLiWtkW_7K9kiPWL6nKKJUy1sFf_ly5QZmzcvHPMSKHtT-DONJpB0oJLWkJIuu/s320/Lewis+Carroll-Alice+Liddell+as+Beggar+Maid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346218154831610882" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: times new roman; font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" >Alice Liddell photographed by Lewis Carroll</span> <br />
</div><br />
<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CFriend%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">So I had questions, more questions than <st1:city><st1:place>Alice</st1:place></st1:city> had for the dormouse, about <st1:city><st1:place>Alice</st1:place></st1:city> and the Dodo with the pen name called Carroll. I was curiouser, that he chose a little girl as the protagonist. Was he a feminist? A social activist perhaps? How did he concoct this fantastical fantasy land? Much to my chagrin, Wonderland started transforming into Michael Jackson’s Neverland and my now disturbed mind was filled with images of Carroll Carroll (as Vladimir Nabakov referred to Carroll, comparing him with Humbert Humbert from Lolita). In fact, in the introduction to the annotated Alice, which I had conveniently skipped and proceeded to jump deep into Wonderland enjoying tea parties and croquet, there was a disclosure of some circumstantial evidence that Carroll might have been…(gag)…a pedophile.</p><br />
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJfjfKJD3pnjjxV_7x5tq7u_z6XBWr5jxrtBhFTJN6PSOqQhfNxJwO8R47cUaapl3OFRr7KaeacHEUMPr9w6347uiPovpHuoSq7VMMB-1I5IDfoXH3WxpgbK_r-wT24OJS7-s/s1600-h/lewis+carroll.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJfjfKJD3pnjjxV_7x5tq7u_z6XBWr5jxrtBhFTJN6PSOqQhfNxJwO8R47cUaapl3OFRr7KaeacHEUMPr9w6347uiPovpHuoSq7VMMB-1I5IDfoXH3WxpgbK_r-wT24OJS7-s/s320/lewis+carroll.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346218259653937234" border="0" /></a><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CFriend%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;">Lewis Carroll</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Of course the moment I read that, I was filled with disgust and I felt a shudder as I wondered about Alice and other ‘child friends’ that Carroll made over the years. Who was <st1:city><st1:place>Alice</st1:place></st1:city>? Was she a fictitious character or one of Carroll’s child friends? Many believe that Carroll designed <st1:city><st1:place>Alice</st1:place></st1:city> after Alice Liddell, who was the daughter of Henry Liddell, a friend of Carroll. He described Alice Liddell as ‘a child of quite unearthly beauty.’ </p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">He wrote a letter to Alice Liddell after she got married stating, “I have had scores of child-friends since your time but they have been quite a different thing.” <st1:city><st1:place>Gardner</st1:place></st1:city> mentions that it is also known that Mrs. Liddell was suspicious of Carroll’s kinship with <st1:city><st1:place>Alice</st1:place></st1:city> and took measures to discourage their interaction. Mrs. Liddell all of the early letters to <st1:city><st1:place>Alice</st1:place></st1:city>. Carroll would often sign off his letters to his special friends as 10,000,000 kisses. However, in <st1:city><st1:place>Gardner</st1:place></st1:city>’s view Carroll’s intentions could not have been sexual. <br />
</p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br />
</p><div style="text-align: justify;"><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CFriend%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> </div><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><st1:city><st1:place>Gardner</st1:place></st1:city> also mentions that Carroll was adept at meeting little girls and would carry knick knacks to peak the girls’ interest. This would include safety pins to pin up the skirts of the little girls when they decided to wade in the water at the beach. He would sketch nude photos of his child friends with polite permission from the moms no less. Didn’t MJ have notes from mommas of his PJ buddies too? </p><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Once Carroll offered a piece of blotting paper to a little girl who was drenched in sea water and said to her, “May I offer you this to blot yourself up?”</p><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Whether Carroll was sexually interested in these little girl is something that is not clearly known. Some say in those days, taking nude photos of little girls did not have sexual connotations. Little girls would be admired for their purity and virgin beauty. Even so, I find that the way he sought out and consorted with little girls, was a bit odd.</p><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Now I return to the mock turtle and the Duchess. </p><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">“Well, there was Mystery,” the Mock turtle replied, counting off the subjects on his flappers… </p><p></p><br />
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWANQ6bRzJvbLU-GYhNvyNqGkpSXmYfQDe2LYifs4HfrOTFyC6dOdzl6wXuFDFonP0yHMpvjJLWIKqwUuQROsUWZkU1otIdxptgtBpahlQ6ZSTn44AAoULHNYRUVMIT1vKYI-/s1600-h/alice_lg.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 305px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWANQ6bRzJvbLU-GYhNvyNqGkpSXmYfQDe2LYifs4HfrOTFyC6dOdzl6wXuFDFonP0yHMpvjJLWIKqwUuQROsUWZkU1otIdxptgtBpahlQ6ZSTn44AAoULHNYRUVMIT1vKYI-/s320/alice_lg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346218692587401170" border="0" /></a> <br />
Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-86714123953829007722009-06-09T15:04:00.005-04:002011-06-09T04:12:03.884-04:00The Tale of Mrs. Fuddle-DudThere was a 20-something chap called Vettickanakudy,<br />
A dingy university apartment dweller and a bit moody.<br />
He ate oodles of noodles,<br />
Drew questionable doodles,<br />
For a cruddy crap major chose he.<br />
<br />
He drank gallons of tea,<br />
Slurp slurp slurp went Vettickanakudy.<br />
One day he sat feeling quite blue,<br />
Under a lamp that cost just 2 smackaroos.<br />
The tap leaked drippity drop,<br />
The clock chimed tickety tock,<br />
Just then Vettickanakudy thought,<br />
He heard a hissy hiss no doubt.<br />
<br />
Following the hissy hiss sound,<br />
His eyes circled the room around.<br />
And he spotted 6 legs in a hurry,<br />
Crawling out of last night's putrid curry.<br />
“Pudding and rotten curry, my what lovely treats,<br />
I wish I had 6 hands instead of 6 feets."<br />
Thus misspoke the owner of the hissy hiss,<br />
Scurrying and scampering amid the messy mess.<br />
<br />
“Why Mr. Creepy Roach,<br />
That’s awful rude of you to encroach!”<br />
Said Vettickanakudy now quite annoyed,<br />
To find a <span style="font-style: italic;">Periplaneta Americana</span> by his side.<br />
Startled the roach lost its footing,<br />
Down tumbled all the scrumptious pudding.<br />
“Clearly you are the one to apologize,<br />
Sorry Mrs. Fuddle-Dud would suffice.”<br />
<br />
“Hey! You’ve been mooching off me since January end,<br />
I saw you peeking and hiding under the cabinet bend.<br />
If anything, you owe me apologies and monies,<br />
For hogging my space and eating my macaronis.”<br />
“It’s your own fault Mr. Vettickanakudy,<br />
For leaving scrumptious snacks for a 6-legged foodie.<br />
So now again I demand at once,<br />
Say you are sorry for being a rude dunce.”<br />
<br />
“Alright Mrs. Fuddle-Dud you make a good point,<br />
I do have a habit of running a messy joint.<br />
But before I go into a lengthy extenuation,<br />
A teeny question precedes my self flagellation.”<br />
<br />
Distracted by the big words Vettickanakudy used,<br />
Mrs. Fuddle-Dud got a little confused.<br />
“Can you tell me Mrs. Fuddle-Dud what’s the pixel size,<br />
Of your peering dark globular black compound eyes?”<br />
“Now that you ask, I must confess,<br />
The compound eye resolution is a bit of a mess.”<br />
<br />
“Well that explains why you did not see,<br />
The red can of whoop ass lying just by me.”<br />
Down came the mist, choking and all,<br />
Vettickanakudy waited for the imminent fall.<br />
Falling on her back with the slightest thud,<br />
That was the end of Mrs. Fuddle-Dud.<br />
<br />
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigG5kbD2jBGyqmfcUJDRD7aNeA82YrTW_iT-VT1Sy5ncYNSf5D0r44U6sj7W1PbipOAdTetnBcz6UF8lclp-bYFV-wkjh0ur51Zxn5BNxVAVjGSm-YX8ZjTcKbP41K0hjPvgzN/s1600-h/Fuddle+dud.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 302px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigG5kbD2jBGyqmfcUJDRD7aNeA82YrTW_iT-VT1Sy5ncYNSf5D0r44U6sj7W1PbipOAdTetnBcz6UF8lclp-bYFV-wkjh0ur51Zxn5BNxVAVjGSm-YX8ZjTcKbP41K0hjPvgzN/s320/Fuddle+dud.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345406566393354194" border="0" /></a>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-21415481393578066032009-06-08T15:40:00.006-04:002011-06-09T03:41:21.477-04:00Review: Pixar doesn't screw Up<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4WP8w2HXNsOCpLbIq1NVL71lm1gB2jPxALVK7CRFRwJfoaqANkIhgJgZetQskORaaDc4Vvudk4JJUd83y6uQXieQFTGzs_p5ooOQv3MHfgDgHKSXd0rTNNn4kebm0AfDbyTuB/s1600-h/Up.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345044547494130626" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4WP8w2HXNsOCpLbIq1NVL71lm1gB2jPxALVK7CRFRwJfoaqANkIhgJgZetQskORaaDc4Vvudk4JJUd83y6uQXieQFTGzs_p5ooOQv3MHfgDgHKSXd0rTNNn4kebm0AfDbyTuB/s320/Up.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CFriend%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"></link><o:smarttagtype name="City" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype name="place" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"></o:smarttagtype><style>
<!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} -->
</style> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I watched “Up” this weekend. The reviews are already in and it is, as they say, the must see movie of the year so far. I agree. It is worth going to the theater and shelling out $11.75 to watch it in 2D. I am not much of a 3D fan though. Chota chetan was the only movie I’ve ever watched in 3D. Other than that all my 3D experiences have been in Universal Studios. I’d rather not watch an entire movie in 3D. I think it would give me a headache. Plus I was hoping that most of the little buggers will go for the 3D version and so I should be able to enjoy the movie in an unadulterated fashion, uninterrupted by the dark shadows of dutiful parents escorting their bundles of joys to poo poo potties. No such luck.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<o:p></o:p></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Expectations can make or break a movie for me. Particularly high expectations…they tend to ruin movies for me. With Pixar I have continually gone in with increasingly demanding expectations and incredibly Pixar has not failed to deliver (with the exception of Cars. I have forgiven and moved on since). Wall-E surpassed my expectations, not only because of its inherent awesomeness, but because the previews for the movie were the most perfect previews I could ever ask for. Intriguing enough to make you want to go check it out, yet not revealing of the characters, plot and particularly jokes. I had no clue about where the plot would go in Wall-E and every scene unfolded, unraveled and kept me mesmerized. That’s the thing with jokes, they can knock you over with the punch line and make you roll on the floor hysterically first time around but the second time it is worth no more than a chuckle and then it stops being funny. So that was one my complaints with Up, I felt like there was too much given away in the previews. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The flying house and the dirigible were reminiscent of <st1:city><st1:place>Miyazaki</st1:place></st1:city>’s movies. However, unlike <st1:city><st1:place>Miyazaki</st1:place></st1:city> movies, this one left me with a lot of sadness which would probably go unnoticed by most viewers in their 20s or younger. I watched most of the movie teary eyed, feeling horrible about Carl Fredrickson’s life and feeling mushy about his memories and life with Ellie and what they had together and what they didn’t have together. It was one emotional roller coaster for me, tugging at my heart strings with that haunting thematic music score by Michael Giacchino. This was one Pixar movie where I cried more than I laughed. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">There were some jokes in the movie which were what I’d consider cheap laughs. Alpha’s voice was not a source of entertainment for me, although I can understand that it is hard to appeal to such a wide range of audiences. It might have tickled the little buggers, who were actually quite amusing at times when they laughed hysterically at some silly antic like Russell climbing onto Carl’s face. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">So although Pixar did not meet my expectations for this movie to be a 90 minutes long laugh riot, it was well worth making a trip to the theater. Another triumph for Pixar. “Adventure is out there!” Go watch it.<o:p></o:p></div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmemzYakZ9Q_agboQYaaZ_QWSngOyOUByzU781VG-7VkQmNgv3FwA3gnAXM9hgorx4o54JsxEef43ePwVlYCusElMgbvyZvJhv1oD-XIFUuY4uGyYa2IDKxtlRtf-3-VFYnfCk/s1600-h/Up+2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345044391276065218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmemzYakZ9Q_agboQYaaZ_QWSngOyOUByzU781VG-7VkQmNgv3FwA3gnAXM9hgorx4o54JsxEef43ePwVlYCusElMgbvyZvJhv1oD-XIFUuY4uGyYa2IDKxtlRtf-3-VFYnfCk/s320/Up+2.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 206px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a> <br />
<br />
</div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-13839878052750572742009-06-05T18:11:00.000-04:002009-06-05T18:13:01.064-04:00Jane Wendell - 2<div style="text-align: justify;">Air France Flight 447 went missing in the Atlantic Ocean with 228 passengers and crew on board. Jane wondered what the passengers or the crew went through when that happened. Did they get to say their goodbyes to the loved ones at the airport before the plane took off? May be some of them were so lucky that they got to say a teary eyed goodbye in a warm embrace. May be some of them were flying home after a long lonely wait. There was a report of a young man on the flight who was heading back to France after attending his father’s funeral. Poor bastard…the irony…he spent his final days moping around for a loss that he didn’t have to bear for more than a few days. Or may be he hated his father and was glad that the old geezer finally kicked the bucket. How inappropriate of him, Jane thought. But Jane didn’t have all the facts to decide who was being inappropriate to whom.<br /><br />Jane thought that a plane crash was one of the most horrific ways to die. But again, may be Jane didn’t have all the facts. There were reports of the plane losing cabin pressure and there were reports of no communication from the pilots. All the information was reported by the plane systems, or so the media led Jane to believe. Even the airplane systems didn’t seem to have the facts straight. There were contrary reports of the airspeed right before the crash. It was entirely plausible that the plane systems failed and that this in turn resulted in a sudden pressure drop. In such an event the definition of an ideal situation changes dramatically. Ideally, the oxygen masks should drop. The passengers and crew then have, depending on how fast the cabin pressure is plummeting, sometimes less than 15 seconds to put on the mask. Jane would never pay attention to the emergency instructions. Jane would think, much as most of the passengers on Air France Flight 447 probably thought, “What are the odds?”<br /><br />And even if Jane would’ve paid attention, she could’ve never managed to put on the mask in less than 15 seconds. And would the odds be any better if panic and turbulence were added to the equation? Jane wouldn’t know. She was never any good with probability problems. But none of that would’ve mattered anyway.<br /><br />If the cabin pressure had dropped suddenly, the passengers and crew would pass out. There would be no communication from the pilots. The media reports that there were no distress calls issued by the pilots. Jane could console herself by thinking that at least they didn’t suffer just like the Columbia crew on Feb 1, 2003.<br /><br />Jane had once read somewhere that NASA gives the crew cyanide pills so that in the event of an imminent disaster the crew can choose to die a less painful death. She does not want to acknowledge that sometimes events can transpire rapidly and be completely out of ones control. That there are times when you run out of possibilities and choices to consider. In case of shuttle disasters, Jane clearly does not appreciate the gravity of the situation. Jane still believes that NASA provides instant death pills to every crew member.<br /><br />Jane’s life is full of choices. Some of these choices are not even possibilities. But Jane doesn’t know that. Jane works very hard to keep it that way.<br /><br />On a side note, although most if not all the passengers and the crew on Air France were born on different days and had different sun signs and the exact same planetary alignment as their counterparts on earth, only the ones on the plane met with the same fate.<br /></div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-52940917661048176692009-06-05T16:47:00.001-04:002009-06-05T16:52:48.596-04:00Jane Wendell<div style="text-align: justify;">Jane sat on the couch glancing out of the living room window. She felt much like the gloomy skies, dull and jaded. As always, things could be better and things could be worse.<br /><br />The top story on the news today was about HIV positive men raping girls in Zimbabwe because they believed that having intercourse with a virgin would cure their disease. The youngest victim was reported to be a one month old baby. Was there anything at all that could’ve prevented this rape? Education, religion, faith? This man thought that it was okay to rape a one month old baby. What can anyone possibly say to this man to convince him that it is not okay to rape a baby? That it is not okay to rape anyone? Jane couldn’t think of one thing to say.<br /><br />What is the solution then? Lock him up? For how long? What happens once he is released? Will he learn morality in prison? However, it is said that people can be reformed. Many find Jesus in prison. Nobody knows what crime Jesus committed.<br /><br />There must be some law in Texas that would say “FRY ‘EM”. Many think it is not humane. That every motherfucker deserves a second chance. The tiger who mauled a zookeeper to death on May 27 in New Zealand was immediately shot to death. There was no room for debate. He turned on a human. The tiger deserved to die. He could not be reformed. It was the most humane thing to do.</div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-90664815355499555972009-06-03T23:38:00.004-04:002011-06-09T04:12:03.886-04:00Chapter 11: RT How Yayati got his mojo backI am now on twitter and following some interesting characters. Drop by to see what they are tweeting about.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://twitter.com/crystalblur">http://twitter.com/crystalblur</a>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-15353725978537552822009-05-27T17:13:00.001-04:002011-06-09T04:12:03.887-04:00Espelling kaantestI don’t know if any of you caught the preliminary round of Scripps spelling bee 2009 today but it was totally bizarre.<br /><br />Here are some excerpts from the proceedings:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: Tea-is-spoon<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nerd 1</span>: Teaspoon?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: Tea-is-spoon<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nerd 1</span>: Can I have the definition please?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: You need the definison to ispell tea-is-spoon? You are kidding me.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nerd 1</span>: Tea-is-spoon…T-E-A-I<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Buzzer</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: I in tea-is-spoon…kaha kaha se chale aate hai. Nekayst.<br />Nerd 2 awaits the word.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: Meliority<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nerd 2</span>: Are there any alternate pronunciations?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: Yes, the Chinese pronunciation is meriolity.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nerd 2</span>: Okay umm, M-E-R…no wait L<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Buzzer</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: Nekayst. Your word is Jaa-lay-pee-no<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nerd 3</span>: Do you mean Ha-le-pi-no?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: No, there is a J in the beginning. Oh I see what you did there…very smarut.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nerd 3</span>: J-A-L-A-P-E-N-O<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: Okay, okay, nekayst. Your word is Tuh-choch-kee<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nerd 4</span>: May I have the language of origin.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: All the words are in English. Kya kya sawaal puchte hai.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nerd 4</span>: Can you use it in a sentence please?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: Yes, you need to espell tuh-choch-kee correctly in order to compete in the nekayst round.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nerd 4</span>: Tchotchke…T-C-H-O-T-C-H-K-E<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: Bhai wah! Nekayst. Your word is cunnilingus.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nerd 5</span>: May I have the definition please.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: Hey bhagvan! You will have to ask your mummy and daddy what it means.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nerd 5</span>: Can I ask them now?<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: You have 30 seconds to spell.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nerd 5</span>: Uh, this was not in the study list.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Buzzer</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Moderator</span>: Nekayst.<br /><br />http://www.spellingbee.com/<br />Don't miss the finals on 28 May 2009 on ABC at 8P/7CCrystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-75603330125721311662009-05-20T18:44:00.004-04:002011-06-09T04:12:03.888-04:00Chapter 10: Divine secrets of the Yayati sisterhood<strong>Vyasa</strong> (<strong>V</strong>): Here we are<br /><strong>Ganpati</strong> (<strong>G</strong>): Indeed, here we are!<br /><strong>V</strong>: But the question is where were we?<br /><em>G blows…eh about…almost…2 years worth of dust from the last papyrus he had scribbled.<br />V almost falls out of his seat.<br /></em><strong>V</strong>: 2 years! Well then it is about time.<br /><br /><em>V and G get off the seats and break into a song.<br /></em>Ta-tut ta-tut tut-ta!<br />It was 4 years ago<br />Was it really?<br />That we gave this story a go<br /><br /><strong>V</strong>: I think I snapped a tendon, we should stick to writing<br /><strong>G</strong> (disappointed): Oh alright.<br /><strong>V</strong>: Where were we story-wise?<br /><strong>G</strong>: Let’s see…we were writing about some dude called Shankaracharya…no wait…Sukracharya. He is an evil scientist who is funded by Asuras and can bring people back from dead.<br /><strong>V</strong>: Wait a minute. I do not cater to evil scientists stereotypes. Sukracharya is a good guy.<br /><strong>G</strong>: Then why is he consorting with the Asuras?<br /><strong>V</strong>: Do you know how hard it is to get funding? On average 97% of the grants are rejected.<br /><strong>G</strong>: Alright simmer down. So there is Dr. S and he is a single father. What’s the story with the mom?<br /><strong>V</strong>: I haven’t made up that part yet…no questions, just a brief summary please.<br /><strong>G</strong>: Okay…the daughter Devyani has an affair with a student named Kacha, not knowing that Kacha is actually a spy. You know you could call this chapter ‘the spy who shagged me!’.<br /><em>V stares sternly as G chuckles.</em><br /><strong>V</strong>: Take your time, we have all day.<br /><strong>G</strong>: Fine! The spy plots and successfully steals Dr. S’s Sanjiviniology research and then ditches Devyani. Bru-tal! Then Devyani steals the princess’s clothes and the princess in turn pushes Devyani in a dry well. Tough day for Devyani. Then a prince conveniently and believably happens to be wandering around in the forest.<br /><em>V -> searing stares.<br /></em><strong>G</strong>: And the prince is gallivanting in the woods all by himself, probably looking for damsels in distress, I mean who knows what he was looking for and it doesn’t matter so long as the plot moves forward.<br /><em>V taps his foot.<br /></em><strong>G</strong>: Then the prince…what is his name anyway?<br /><strong>V</strong>: Umm…Yayati<br /><strong>G</strong>: Okay, Yayati then finds Devyani and rescues her and then Devyani proposes and gets rejected by the prince because of her fat ass and Devyani is stranded in the forest.<br /><br /><strong>V</strong> (rubbing his hands with excitement): Alright, here we go.<br /><br />Devyani sat in the forest feeling dejected and alone. Soon the forest was enveloped in darkness and sinister howls echoed in the forest. Devyani cowered under a tree and started praying for somebody to rescue her.<br /><br />Sukracharya squints at his wrist dial under the candle light.<br />Sukracharya (<strong>S</strong>): Where is this girl? I can’t figure out what time it is on this dial.<br /><br />Vyasa (<strong>V</strong>): Talking about wrist dials, I’m thinking of buying one with an abacus in it.<br />Ganapati (<strong>G</strong>): You people with your gadgets. When you are hungry it is time to eat, when you are sleepy it is time to sleep. I don’t need a dial to tell me what time it is.<br /><strong>V</strong>: Ganya, you are strange sometimes.<br /><br />Worried about the daughter, he asks a student to go looking for her in the forest. Partly because as a tenured professor he could get away with it but mostly because he was afraid of the dark. The student searches for Devyani for hours and finally finds her and takes her home.<br /><strong>Student</strong>: “Can I graduate now?”<br /><strong>S</strong>: “That is up to the committee to decide. Remember there is no substitute for hard work.”<br /><em>Disgruntled student walks away</em>.<br /><br /><strong>S</strong>: And as for you missy, do you know what time it is?<br />Taps the wrist dial.<br /><strong>S</strong>: I am sick of this behavior. Out partying at ungodly hours, the pigeon practically fainted last week from delivering your incessant pigeon mail and then there is all this expensive junk you keep buying…like this wrist dial which doesn’t even work.<br /><strong>Devyani</strong> (<strong>D</strong>): It works only during the day dad!<br /><br /><strong>G</strong>: I always wonder why those things can’t work at night? I mean clearly we have the moon at night, so what’s the problem?<br /><strong>V</strong>: I don’t know. So where were we…<br /><br /><strong>D</strong>: It works only during the day dad! Stop yelling at me. I wasn’t out partying, I was almost murdered.<br /><strong>S</strong>: Murdered? Don’t be dramatic. Why would anyone murder my daughter when I can bring you right back to life? That would be the most pointless thing to do.<br /><em>D bursts into tears.</em><br /><strong>D</strong>: Nobody likes me. Everybody makes fun of me. I am never getting married.<br /><strong>S</strong>: Okay okay. Tell me what happened.<br /><strong>D</strong>: It’s Sarmishta…she thinks she is so hip. The only reason she has friends is because her dad would behead anyone who is mean to her. Anyway, I was minding my own business and I don’t know what got into her. She is probably jealous of me or something she just pushed me into a pit.<br /><strong>S</strong>: May be it was a mistake. May be she didn’t mean to push you.<br /><strong>D</strong>: She also said that your last publication had the lousiest data she has ever seen and something about error bars…that you haven’t heard about them…<br /><em>Sukracharya’s face turned the deepest color of crimson.<br /></em><br /><strong>S</strong>: I will have a chat with her Dad first thing in the morning.<br />He simmered through the night and made his way to the palace at the crack of dawn.<br /><br />At the palace.<br /><strong>King Vrishaparva</strong> (<strong>KV</strong>): Sukracharya? What a pleasant surprise! Usually I don’t wake up before you can start telling time but the wife is on my case. So I do a little cardio in the morning to get the old motor running. In fact I am looking for a running partner, you interested?<br /><em>S gives angry stares.<br /></em><strong>KV</strong>: Sooooo, what’s up? What brings you here?<br /><strong>S</strong>: I will get right to the point. I am not treated with respect and I am tired of this attitude. There are lots of other kingdoms that I can offer my services to and would be appreciated for. In fact, I am thinking of leaving you and your kingdom for good.<br /><strong>KV</strong>: What did the Asuras do now?<br /><strong>S</strong>: It wasn’t the Asuras this time. It was your daughter.<br /><strong>KV</strong>: My daughter? What could she possibly do or say that would make you leave?<br /><strong>S</strong>: I am not going to repeat the hideousness that she uttered but I want to make it clear that I will not stand for it.<br /><strong>KV</strong>: Okay, I will talk with her.<br /><strong>S</strong>: I am afraid that is not enough.<br /><strong>KV</strong>: Look, I would hate for things to end this way. You and I both know that my kingdom will crumble without your Frankenstein stuff. I apologize on her behalf.<br /><strong>S</strong>: I have put up with a lot humiliation with the Asuras harassing my students and murdering them and feeding their body parts to my pets. But this time it has gone too far. There is nothing you can say or do to stop me.<br /><strong>KV</strong>: I will double your salary and fund you for a year.<br /><strong>S</strong>: I said that I will not…really? Double!<br /><strong>KV</strong>: Yes.<br /><strong>S</strong>: I do need some more grant money and my last application was rejected. Alright you have a deal.<br /><strong>KV</strong>: Great chatting with you. Gotta run.<br /><br />Sukracharya gleefully returns home only to find a miffed Devyani.<br /><br /><strong>D</strong>: So?<br /><strong>S</strong>: It has all been taken care of.<br /><strong>D</strong>: What do you mean? Do I get an apology from Sarmistha?<br /><strong>S</strong>: Er…yes. She is going to mail it to you.<br /><strong>D</strong> (<em>whines</em>): Daaaad! I was humiliated. You didn’t just let them get away with it?<br /><strong>S</strong>: Of course not, they are going to pay for it.<br /><strong>D</strong>: Pay, you got a settlement? How much? Can I shop at Gocci now?<br /><strong>S</strong>: Sorry hon, you already spent your allowance and I need the extra money for my research.<br /><strong>D</strong>: This is not fair. I demand an apology from Sarmistha…no wait, I want her to be my maid for…forever.<br /><strong>S</strong>: Devyani, she is the King’s daughter.<br /><em>Devyani makes puppy face.<br /></em><strong>S</strong>: Dammit Devyani! Okay fine, but if they don’t agree you will have to quit moping around and no more trips to the forest after dark.<br /><br /><strong>G</strong>: Are all the women in your story unreasonable, emotional drags that serve the only utilitarian purpose of propagating the progeny?<br /><strong>V</strong>: Well they are women. What are you getting at?<br /><em>G sighs.</em><br /><strong>V</strong>: I am getting hungry. Should we go grab a bite?<br /><strong>G</strong>: Might as well finish this chapter.<br /><strong>V</strong>: Oh that would take far too long. Sarmista becomes Devyani’s maid, I still haven’t figured out a way to make that sound plausible. Then Devyani finally hooks up with Yayati, the guy who rescued her from the well in the forest which by the way is an inter-caste marriage. Pretty forward of me know? Hooking up a Kshatriya with a Brahmin girl.<br /><strong>G</strong>: Scandalous.<br /><strong>V</strong>: And then of course, Sarmista also gets jiggy with Yayati…the whole catfight angle to the story.<br /><strong>G</strong>: Yeah let’s go grab a bite. I have a coupon for Kabooters<br /><strong>V</strong>: You go there?<br /><strong>G</strong>: Yeah, I go there for the food. They have really good wings.<br /><strong>V</strong>: Riiigght!Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-40252744081901651512009-05-19T13:36:00.004-04:002011-06-09T03:44:38.430-04:00Suralichya vadyafucking waste of time<div align="justify">There are hundreds of food blogs online, touting saliva inducing photos of their great successes in the kitchen. That my friends is the Disney version of what could happen in your kitchen. Sure it could happen to you, a perfectly baked something or the other, but that is one side of the story. What about the other side? The dark side where rotis are amoeboid and flames erupt to singe your eyebrows and concoctions turn into inedible goo. Where are those stories? Yes, I am talking about all those <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FUBAR">FUBAR</a> experiments in the kitchen. Surely these stories need a voice. Not because we can learn from those mistakes but because these stories could be infinitely more entertaining to read. Since I have found immense pleasure in others’ misery I thought I should give some back to the community. So here it is…my first attempt at making suralichya vadya.<br />
<br />
Once upon a time I was browsing some food blogs. I came across some extremely delicious looking suralichya vadya photos. Hubba hubba hubba. So I took a look at the recipe and it looked fairly straight forward. Make batter, cook over low flame until thickens, plate out, cool and roll. The batter cooking did not have any specific instructions. The most they would say was, cook until it is cooked. This is going to be a good lesson on why recipes with specific instructions are a great idea, you can tell.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I looked at the recipe and convinced myself that I could handle it…easy peazy. So here I was, 10 minutes into cooking the batter on low flame with constant stirring. That is co-incidentally the amount of time it takes for me to lose patience. The flame went up 2 notches. Bad idea. Very quickly, the batter started turning into a viscous and lumpy blob. Seeing this I panicked and hastily plated out the batter before it could turn into one giant lump. Of course the batter was not yet completely cooked. I valiantly microwaved the plated batter in an attempt to cook the plated stuff but the batter could care less. So this is what I ended up with…perforated raw suralichya vadya and lumps of half cooked batter. </div><div align="justify"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk2KwPBHxrWbRtCpN76_-FPh8XMOLyDjyP8glIPvU73mw-ihw5kSySnojjkxuREPRw-C_sYdFRcrJTPa7mvOZiAKAtiDNdGrZkc2aHHO3eLb-Na-IL0cKud-TpQIo0uFnP7UFz/s1600-h/Food+005.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337591000335503554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk2KwPBHxrWbRtCpN76_-FPh8XMOLyDjyP8glIPvU73mw-ihw5kSySnojjkxuREPRw-C_sYdFRcrJTPa7mvOZiAKAtiDNdGrZkc2aHHO3eLb-Na-IL0cKud-TpQIo0uFnP7UFz/s320/Food+005.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />
At this point I was left with a crap load of dirty dishes, a tummy roaring with hunger and one twitching eye. Most people would quit at this point, order a pizza and call it a day. Not me. No no no no no. I was sure not going to dump this disaster. So I steamed my perforated suralichya namesake vadya for 10 mins like idlis and then doused them in a seasoning of oil, mustard seeds and hing and ate them. And then I farted happily every after.<br />
<br />
Moral of the story:<br />
1) An empty stomach and a lumpy batter do not make for a great day.<br />
2) Suralichya vadya = crap load of dirty dishes. Think about it.<br />
3) It is immoral to make suralichya vadyaCrystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-5236842001142370762009-05-04T16:05:00.003-04:002011-06-09T03:40:54.883-04:00Sita sings the blues<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfjQdyoBwaL5aeidUqvIGTfDIe2axhXImbM3QgdAC2JgtIEkpoTxMNPvnZSk8b6wFi1G2wi7cE1WCldeL3YmFdDUiI6NR5KvAM-t-DSNkms3oC08crGxUp3LujaZqFt42yeOb/s1600-h/SitaGoddessPosterA1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332066331726563410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfjQdyoBwaL5aeidUqvIGTfDIe2axhXImbM3QgdAC2JgtIEkpoTxMNPvnZSk8b6wFi1G2wi7cE1WCldeL3YmFdDUiI6NR5KvAM-t-DSNkms3oC08crGxUp3LujaZqFt42yeOb/s320/SitaGoddessPosterA1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />
<div align="justify">This may be old news for most of you folks but this stuff is worth pimping. So I will go ahead anyway. Unlike me and my MB retake, Nina Paley single handedly stuck with her vision of Ramanyan and brought it to fruition as “Sita sings the blues”. She has made her movie available for viewing in its entirety for free. You can read more about Nina Paley or watch Sita sings the blues go to <a href="http://www.sitasingstheblues.com/">http://www.sitasingstheblues.com/</a><br />
<br />
Annette Hanshaw’s songs are simply brilliant and a perfect fit for the movie. Although when I think about the amount of moolah Paley had to part with to deal with the copyright restrictions for those songs, I'm only guessing here, but I have a feeling that it must have surely broken Paley’s metaphorical balls. </div><br />
<div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">The whole movie was a visual delight. Loved it. My favorite part was the conversational narration of Ramayan…that shit was hilarious.<br />
<br />
That’s all.</div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-78112991899324104482009-01-31T19:36:00.004-05:002009-01-31T19:48:44.399-05:00Fwd:fwd:fwd:fwd:re Infinite loop<div align="justify">Crys is wondering how long it would take to max out two gmail accounts if they were set such that all the messages received in account A are forwarded to account B and all the messages received in account B are forwarded to account A.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">The underlying assumption is that this would create a loop of forwards. If it doesn't, why not? </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">If it does, only data from actual tests with gmail accounts are acceptable responses. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-51771865434626480212009-01-24T17:46:00.005-05:002011-06-09T03:41:53.866-04:00Finally!<div align="justify">Are you suffering from red eyes, incessant yawns and getting barely enough sleep? Are you too poor to afford DVR and wish you hadn’t squandered away all your money on food and rent? If you have answered yes to both questions then you must be a harrowed tennis fan trying to find a reasonable hour to watch the Australian Open. Fellow sufferers, I feel your pain.<br />
<br />
Even worse, sometimes you find the time to watch AO and what happens? They feature two Russian chicks on court 3 when you’d rather watch the oh-so-awesome Tsonga on court 10. Or feature some boring American player that you couldn’t care less about when drool worthy Safin is playing on the adjacent court. ESPN may not always get my priorities right but they totally redeemed themselves by starting ESPN 360.<br />
<br />
If you haven’t already discovered ESPN 360, boy, are you in for a sweet surprise! So check it out…you can watch the entire uncut coverage (commentary, press interviews included) online for free. I haven't explored their archives yet but looks like they have most of the matches there. What's more, you can fast forward the ads. Yes...FF the ads! Can it get any better? Yes...you can watch your match of choice in the live coverage. I can finally choose to watch a live Safin/Tsonga/Monfils match on the internet over the featured non-Safin match on TV. Sweet!<br />
<br />
I mean this was inevitable, it was going to happen eventually. This is the future of TV…everything should be the way it is on ESPN 360. Every week, all the new episodes of TV shows should become available and you should be able to pick and choose what and more importantly, when you watch a show. All the shows should be on demand. Why are we still forced to watch crap when we can have the option of choosing which crap we want to watch and when? Network folks, please take notes from ESPN 360…I cannot believe how long it is taking you guys to catch on.<br />
<br />
ESPN 360…thanks! </div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-44672626723211425692009-01-14T20:18:00.005-05:002009-01-14T23:53:46.344-05:00Testing...1,2,19...check<span style="font-size:130%;">Hello</span>...hello...<span style="font-size:85%;">hello</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Echo</span>...echo...<span style="font-size:85%;">echo</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-36446126661788636122007-08-24T13:38:00.000-04:002007-08-24T13:46:58.422-04:0053 sentenced to death?<a href="http://www.wbir.com/news/national/story.aspx?storyid=48333">Fucked up!</a>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857822.post-60534941794621140442007-08-21T16:26:00.001-04:002011-06-09T03:42:20.825-04:00Corporation<div align="justify">I saw the documentary ‘Corporation’ over the weekend and I thought that the documentary raises some serious concerns. At the outset I want to say that this article is not so much of a review of the documentary as it is a discussion of some of the topics covered in the documentary. I would also appreciate your input on the issues.<br />
<br />
When I popped in the Corporation DVD, I anticipated a documentary on the perils of a capitalistic society (which it was). Even though the documentary has an air of anti-capitalistic agenda I found that the concerns in the documentary are very real and should be given a lot more attention than currently given by the mainstream media. The documentary shows how every individual (be it as a customer, employee or investor) is a part of the problem and could be a part of the solution.<br />
<br />
As a consumer I thought I was pretty savvy until I watched the documentary. I discovered that a lot of information is withheld from the customers. I was especially alarmed about the rbST (artificially introduced growth hormone) in the milk issue. I will be discussing the rbST issue in depth in the next post.<br />
<br />
<em>[Do check your milk cartons for rbST content. If there is no mention of rbST on the carton then there is a strong possibility that the milk you are drinking <strong>contains</strong> rbST. Milk that does not contain rbST explicitly says so. However the presence of rbST is NOT mentioned on cartons of milk that contain rbST. The potential risks of consuming milks from cows that are treated with growth hormones are not clearly understood. So if you don’t want to consume milk with rbST, start buying all natural or organic milk.] </em><br />
<br />
Although the discussion in this article relates to America, I don’t think it is an exaggeration to state that these issues are relevant to every country. After watching the documentary I realized that I had grossly underestimated the extent of exploitation by large corporations.<br />
<br />
<strong>Profits over people - Exploitation of employees</strong><br />
We know that giant corporations exist and that they are willing to cut corners to maximize their profits. Wal-mart is an exemplary example of that. I know many people who boycott shopping at Wal-mart altogether. But even if you don’t shop at Wal-mart, no matter which giant retailer you choose, you are still supporting some sleazy corporation which is violating human rights. Everybody has heard about Nike outsourcing jobs to sweatshops in countries like China to get cheap labor. What I didn’t know was that all the other major shoe retailers like <a href="http://www.unc.edu/~andrewsr/ints092/vandu.html">Reebok and Adidas also do the same</a>. So unless you exclusively buy shoes from (expensive) stores like <a href="http://www.beyondskin.co.uk/html/">Beyond Skin</a> or limit your purchase to the few domestically made lines of shoes from companies such as Converse, you are supporting the overseas exploitation in sweat shops. Same goes for clothes. If you have a pair of jeans from Levis or a shirt from GAP in your closet, you have bought a garment made in some sweatshop overseas. In fact there is a strong possibility that <em>all</em> your clothes were made in some sweatshop, unless the garment has a union label or you only buy clothes from fair trade organizations or employee owned businesses.<br />
<br />
<strong>The pro-sweat shop argument</strong><br />
The companies that employ cheap labor claim that the people who work in the sweatshops would’ve been unemployed and even starved to death without their business. So in essence, the businesses are doing the sweatshop workers a big favor. In reality the wages are starkly low. The businesses can afford to pay higher wages. The profit margins are absurdly high. The laborers work inhuman amount of hours to make enough money so that they can sustain themselves. Of course if the workers demand better wages, the businesses wouldn’t think twice about taking their business elsewhere.<br />
<br />
<strong>Exploitation of consumers</strong><br />
The exploitation does not stop at getting cheap labor. The corporations don’t care about the well being of the customers either. Important product information (such as the presence of rbST in milk) is withheld from the customers in the interest of product sales. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3J1I-AaA7A">Here</a> is a clip of Erin Burnett from MSNBC who justifies the sale of low quality (to the point of being hazardous) products. She thinks it is okay to sell children’s toys with lead paint or toxic food-products because it keeps prices low. <br />
<strong>Environmental hazards<br />
</strong>Our increasing dependence on modern commodities has fueled a lifestyle that results in detrimental pollution of our environment. It is the price we pay for progress. I regard people who enjoy the comforts and advancements of a capitalist society as hypocrites when they talk about the evils of capitalism without altering their lifestyles. It is silly to try and impede progress. Capitalism is not a bad idea, it needs some tweaking not abandoning. The better strategy is to find solutions to reduce/regulate the toxic waste generation. There are several green earth organizations working towards these goals. Hence my belief was that the best solution was to create awareness about nature conservation and designing protocols for environmentally friendly practices would slowly steer us towards an eco-friendly environment.<br />
<br />
Turns out the availability of green alternatives or lack of awareness is not even a main issue with corporations. It is all about money. Big corporations are so ruthless about making profits that they make a risk-benefit assessment for getting caught dumping poisons in the environment in terms of the fines they have to pay. They’d rather take the risk of getting caught and paying fines instead of investing in better practices for sewage disposal. So to control illegal dumping of toxic wastes, we have to find better solutions. Since, the only thing that these corporations care about is money; in my opinion the monetary fines should be raised to a point that the corporations seriously rethink their strategy of dealing with wastes.<br />
<br />
<strong>What can we do? </strong><br />
As customers we can make many choices to work against bad practices that harm people and environment. It is not going to be easy to make the necessary changes because (a) it requires extra effort and (b) the alternative lifestyle can be expensive. But realizing that the alternative lifestyle is not so much of a choice as it is a necessity should help foster the necessary changes.<br />
<br />
The first step to make these changes is to learn and research these issues. I did my own research and discovered some websites that offer information and solutions on some of the issues I discussed.<br />
1) <a href="http://www.fairtradefederation.org/">Fair Trade Federation</a> This organization stipulates better environment and income for workers and artisans to bypass the exploitative work conditions in sweatshops. The website also states that the FTF marked products don’t cost more than the amount you pay the major retailers. How? The organization works directly with the producers to cut out the middlemen.<br />
2) <a href="http://www.sweatshopwatch.org/">Sweat shop watch</a><br />
3) <a href="http://earth911.org/">Earth 911</a> </div><div align="justify"><br />
If you have additional tips or quips about the issues at hand I would love to hear about them. </div><br />
<div align="justify"></div>Crystal Blurhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16914963826846974641noreply@blogger.com12