Tags: advice, delhi, divinity, fear, find, girl, girls, leela, markic, parent, ponnu, tamil
This is actually a collection of Tweets I had posted a bit back… I plan to continue it- thodarkadhai style- some day. But as all mega thodars go- it seems pretty complete as it is, and I haven’t written much to add in quite a while. Additionally, after the ‘First Post after Coma’ post last week, I’ve really been wanting to write something here. Moral satisfaction, you see.
Delhi Leela speaks the story of Leela, the northie raised Tamil girl that went missing one day. The story speaks the emotional turmoil of the parents at home- the denial, shifting of responsibilities, anger and guilt experienced by each. Further, it discusses the social issues and factors that affects the daily life of the Indian middle class.
Hah.. Funny you actually fell for that. But Delhi Leela is my contribution to Tamil Literature. Some day kids will read through this for their Tamil exams and they will ask you doubts in Explaining with Reference to Context. So read it now- prevent the avamanam of ignorance…
delhi ponnu leela,
color pasum paala,
delhi ponnu leela-
kanum naalu naala
leela ode aalu,
paeru edho baalu,
counter le vanguvan maalu…
avanum leave naalu naallu!
delhi ponnu leela,
kanum naalu naala,
ava odi ponala?
baalu veetuku pona,
ange irukkan veena,
odambu ellam leena..
baalu enna aanan!
anju naala janni,
jugule soodu thanni,
its not even funny…
leela ille ange,
sonna baalu thange,
namma delhi leela yenge?
namma leela ponnu,
delhi naatu kannu,
aana thamizh mannu
delhi ponnu leela,
kaanum naalu naala,
geetha- seetha- maala,
inge engyachum irukala?
ava pesuradho hindi,
sothule mudhal pandhi,
aru manikku vandi
eduthu povale traffic le mundhi
leela ode friendu,
irukudhunge jakku rendu,
geetha semma gundu,
seetha oru mandu
seetha veedu gaali,
ange namakku enna joli?!
sonnar tea-kada cheta-
leela ange poirruke maata
enge namma leela?
vaaya thorandha peela!
inniki varatum leela-
papom en kai a ava kaal-a!
polambal vittaru avaru line-a,
thooki valathene maina,
ipdi kaanume naina!
delhi ponnu leela,
kaanum naalu naala,
velaikku parappa aala,
enge enga leela?!
indha prechanaikku theva caution,
namma povom police station-
area inspector kooda Booshan…
eduthange paper vella,
vevarama prechanaya solla,
enge Leela inge illa-
adhu dhan engalukku tholla…
complaint a paatharu maama,
bajjiya kadicharu calm-a,
aatha ve ketaru ‘yema,
ipdi ponna anuppalaama?!’
enna solluva aatha,
kanneer ode naina ve paatha,
‘kuch kuch hotha’,
(sorry hindi kaari aatha)
‘pazhani malai vela,
yen ponnu thirumbuvaala?,
kaanum naalu naala-
na thooki valathene leela!’
‘aandi appa! Kumara!
naa paesa maaten thimura,
kununja thala nimura,
en Leela enge Kumara’
‘kootitu ponavan yaaru?’,
‘konjum kanna thorandhu paaru’
aatha aayittale naaru,
naina ponaru bar-u
naalu aachu anju,
aatha manasu panju,
summa irundha nenju
ippadi aaganuma nanju!
vandhange thotti muththam,
yaara solla kuthtam..
kolla pakkam enna saththam?
vandhaaru konjum late-a..
‘enna peththa aatha!’,
‘kadaisiya yaaru paatha?’
sonnan driver jaggu,
‘na paaka dhan sar makku,
otuvadhil na quicku’, sonnan driver jaggu.
‘namma pakathu theru maami,
ava ponnu sivagami,
pooja sivare saami-
avange vootuku vazhiya kaami’
naina aruvale pudicharu saanam-
idhu namma kudumba maanam,
enge leela ponne kanum,
ini ellaye vaanam!
delhi kaara appa,
tension aanare thappa,
vaaya thorandha rama,
aana sindhicharu mama
raama mama moolai,
pooja seivaru moonu velai,
aana yem-perumaan leelai,
apdinu poitaru adutha vaela!
delhi kaari leela,
kanum naalu naala,
andha bhel-puri wala
ava thalaiyile irundha poovu,
adhu vaadi moonu raavu,
andha bhel-puri kaaran paavu,
pulichu pona maavu
leela ode yaaru?
pengal manasa paaru-
ribbon kattum vyaadhi,
ku irupadhu pazhaya seidhi
ponaru kada veedhi,
namma leela va thaedi,
ange thiruvizha nu seidhi,
I really thought I’d end this here, but then it was too tempting to kill a character so out of character… So here goes after a few more days…
enge delhi leela,
innum oru naala,
kaanum ayyia leela,
namma ponnu kedaippala?
thedi pathan bussu,
appo vandha pandu,
thamizhan jamesu bondu,
pandu poduvane thoppi,
moppam pudipadhule puppy,
avan yerangitan na sappi,
inge porandhutan ya thappi
thorathi pudipaan maana,
holmes-e paandu dhaana??!
pandu oda thedal,
leela kudumba paadal –
ku aada mumbai model
[On Tamil Film Touches]
modhal rendu geetham,
paada suseela madam,
sangeetha kadal odum,
pandu nadathina paadam
vandhuchu edhir paatu,
accent-o vada naatu,
adhu leela ode paatu-
nee endha pakkamnu kaatu!
Thank You! Thank You…
Yes, Im making this a movie now…
Tags: evolution, How To, life, markiv, random, science, theory, tragedy, vikram, world
Before we even get started with the eulogies, let me make it clear- this is not a random rant about life and how or why my girl friend broke up with me. Nor is it about my laptop raising its body temperature to egg-boiling levels before promptly shutting off every five minutes, before I can get the eggs out of the refrigerator. Better yet, this is not the teary outburst of approximately half a year of coma. No. Though that should come about later… This, like all my other philosophical posts, is about philosophy. Let me go a step forward on that- this is the anti-philosophy of all philosophy. In the next few lines lies the absolute objective universal truth of all existence. Of God, the supernatural, luck, and everything else that we wake up praying to and go to bed cursing. Here lies Life!
But first, if you haven’t noticed, my blogging frequency at least to the untrained eye has moderately reduced. Im not sorry… Of course that in no way implies that I did not have anything awesome to talk about- just that I forgot what.
Those that know me, occasionally, tend to think I am too much of an egoist. I do not openly disagree. Interestingly though, the past few years have given me significant chances to rework in that area. Not that I no longer hold my shield of ego within… But I have gained the ability to look at my ego as an independent entity that can make its decisions and often times take care of itself, maximizing its economic needs within the constructs of bounded rationality. Over the half a decade since I left high school my ego has been thwarted, squashed, thrown around, belittled, mocked, trodden upon, chewed, torn, slammed against the wall, politely been refused entry into discos and then some more… Of course there have been times when it has been hailed by the crowds, lifted high up in the air, admired and awarded. In most cases I try to be the true companion, motivating and cajoling over a drink when it is hurt and celebrating with a drink when it wins.
The point of argument and/ or debate is not whether such an ego is deserving. Comments in that angle that does not make the former happy will be truly moderated and such commenter, spammed.
It is just that you cannot much point fingers at that. Philosophy tells me Life has been here far longer than me and therefore is the bigger of the two. I do agree in all my humility. Where I come from the older are taught to be nicer to the younger- to give in to their whims and fancies. In which case Life here has just played the part of an adamant old oaf… An egomaniac. And such is the examples our elders are leaving behind!
They tell me life is a teacher and I must learn from the lessons taught. Well, the teachers in school probably did not have as much to say as the old guy, but at least they told us the chapters we would be tested in… Moreover life isn’t exactly Wikipedia that I run to for a reference.
And then they tell me life is a bitch. I try not to even get imagining life as a women, probably a few hundred centuries old, wrinkled skin, evil laugh, black lipstick and tight red skirts. Yeeckk! Some bitch!
I’ve heard people say Life is a game. A game with infinite players, playing by their own rules and with no definite win, end or score. A game that does not have a season or even come with beer. I digress!
The worst I hear is when someone tells me “That’s Life”. It’s one of the few things that make me want to go up and punch them right on their nose. “No, THAT’s life”! It doesn’t even make sense- if what just happened WAS that famous Life, then people that have been looking for it all these years would have had no chance of knowing it because it just happened. Worse still, the rest of the planet and all those yet to be born are now tumbling down a definitely meaningless existence hence forth. Life has already happened. Moreover, if the person did truly believe he just found the Life that humans have been looking for (and my ex-girl friend asked me to get), shouldn’t the observer be far more excited at the discovery? And finally, even if that were indeed Life, by merely noticing it the other guy assumes himself smarter than Socrates, Pliny, Aristotle, Einstein and Steve Jobs. Which is just about arrogant because that’s me!
The point is, through the years I have heard a million odd proverbs and analogies to Life that just does not seem to conform neatly into what has become. For now, let us assume that there is a purpose to our existence. To be fair then, we must assume such a purpose exists for all of us. If we were to then build on chaos theory, then the actions of even a single person out of this purpose would break the entire equilibrium away, implying that randomness cannot be factored into existence at all. We are therefore led to believe in fate and destiny. Obviously then the concept of free will becomes irrelevant. Therefore the entire charade called life that most of us go through is part of an elaborate play written, directed and screened by God.
If that were true, then why would the nice God that created me put me through anything but a life of chocolate ice creams, booze and women dying to steal at least a glance from me? Why would he create a world where I would have to live in almost-no-internet conditions, do my own laundry, cook my own food and drink instant coffee?
As a preliminary answer, let us begin by assuming monotheism- a concept almost all major religions seem to concur about. If this God that staged these plays were the only God, he would then have to be the only audience as well. And so, just to make it a bit more interesting, twists and turns and counter plots and irreverential loops must be put in. And factor in a lot of stupidity. And more loops. A fair, balanced life just doesn’t make an interesting episode!
Either that or there really isn’t a God and these are just randomly permuted events, and humans have evolved as logical creatures out of pure chance, thereby breaking the anti-logic that created them in the first place. No fair!
And so I bring to you, after a six month sabbatical’s worth of thought- Nothing.
Tags: advice, economy, introspection, irritation, markiv, random, vikram
So, yeah… I got tagged… Quite obviously, since my blogging frequency has come down to one a year, and considering I lost that two followers I had the day I started including rationale in my writes, it makes sense not to expect too much of a push from my fellow bloggers. Shame on you!
Well, this time, its a tag from Facebook, thanks to Giri. And the tag rules are almost too simple to not seem stupid. Except that they are…
25 Things about me!
Oh, yes- I got a smart one… Let me use “Me” in third person. Like “Me” is an interesting creature, originally from the tropical rain forests of Beasant Nagar, and violently transplanted to the Just-As-Bad-If-Not-Worse jungles of AmrieKa.
OK. Stop. If you found this line of thought funny, I seriously suggest you mine Orkut profiles of high-school kids for soul-revealing humour.
OK, that said Im going to answer this one in all honesty. And truth. And honor. As usual.
1. Im a genius. My third standard teacher told me that in the year 1992 (approx. when I was in third grade). And I’ve believed her word ever since. I don’t keep contact with her though, in the fear she might have sobered up by now!
2. I don’t like people. As in, not your ideal socio-path types, but I just generally look at fellow mortals as moving blobs of ideas, logic, a bit of knowledge, sufficient alcohol, spare change and bubble gum. Funnily enough, most of my social circles and the discussions thereof circle around why social circles and the discussions thereof are so pointless.
3. I detest movies. This is probably an extension of rule 2, but Im not really your theatre kind of person. You’d have to drag me by my big toe to get me go to the movies. I think its just the effort involved- youtube seems good enough!
4. I don’t care. And this one statement probably wouldn’t be shattering that thin fabric of crap-paper you call your heart if you ever knew me, and wouldn’t matter if you did not, but I just don’t. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I couldn’t care less to offer an explanation.
5. I am NOT lazy. I don’t exactly come across as the honey-let-me-do-the-dishes-and-the-laundry-while-you-work-your-appetite-to-eat-the-dinner-i-cooked person. But that is closer to “stupid” than “hard-working”. Most often I expect to be the person at the receiving end of this conversation. But that again is “Wishful Thinking”, not “Lazy”.
6. I have a moderately inflated ego. Just a bit. But well, Im a genius and I know it- what do you expect.
7. I get bored. Pretty easy. With stuff, work, humans… I think it is a creativity thing. Or, a real mental disorder. Either way, its at least fun!
8. I am not extremely religious. But my religion lets me do that!
9. I love exaggerating about the poverty levels in India and watch firangs’ eyes go all crazy. Like the other day I was telling one of my lab mates how the government rounds up all the poor people in slums in India and neuters them so we don’t have any poor people in the next generation. Got one of those priceless expressions!
10. I hate it when people assume I must know EVERYTHING about computers, programming, mobile devices, space shuttles and alternate fuel technologies, just because I got my bachelors in IT. Or even when they assume I must know anything about it at all. Haven’t you even HEARD of Charulatha Publications?
11. I have a very powerful faculty of reason. I can reason myself into doing anything stupid.
12. I love my temper. But who doesn’t, right? Except that I have spent years with the great Shaolin Monks, mastering my emotions, that now when I try to get angry I end up being more laughable than scary- the MoJo JoJo types.
13. I think. A lot.
14. I love hearing about me. Not from the ego-inflating part- Its fun to hear your juniors and those that just weren’t there “spice up” a bit of nothingness just to make their story look good and end up giving you a surreal larger-than-life legendary image, just because you were unfortunate enough to have been in the scene.
Note to my PSBB punch-makers: I did not beat him up in school. I hardly even pushed him. And I definitely did not run around the block twice chasing him and his hoodlums down with my gang. One- he did not have a hoodlum. Two- I did not have a gang. And Three- You cannot run around the block- there was a wall blocking a full round, remember?
15. I have an interesting mood pattern. Happy->Unproductive->Bored->Depressed->Productive->Happy. Repeatable.
16. I hate it when people take arguments personally. And I hate it to have to break down my logic more than once. Even if it makes me sound profound.
17. I don’t care about music. In fact, up until pretty recently, Id get a headache if there was music running in the car. I have an IPod I barely use, and a big sound system with sub woofers and all that that just lie around to remind me of my humble beginnings in technology. Im n0t giving them away.
18. I love my decision making/ taking capabilities. Instincts, Logic, Coin flip and Google. Not necessarily in that order though. “I-Wonder-What-This-Button-Does” kinds.
19. Im a scorpio. I love that sign and all but I hate all these astro-guys for their claims. What, are all scorpios supposed to be the same? Then what makes us any special? Except for Sagittarious though. Im glad I wasn’t born in that pig sty planet!
20. I ve never been too enthu about sports. Thats just a nice way of saying someday, I will rise to become the evil overlord of the world and will ban the Cricket, hang Arvind and Karthik* upside down in the Kilpauk stadium and have every former cricket player whack his rear end with the bat! And then burn them. The bats, I mean. For now.
(*Mottai maadi cricket champions circa 93-94, merely because they were each 6 years older than us, did all the batting, and made us “next gen” kids run down 4 stories to pick up the ball while they celebrated the glory of their unfocussed, badly aimed sixes from our 15X10 feet terrace!)
21. I kind of like history. From an anthropology angle. I hate geography. We had a history-geography split up in high school social stdies, with 60 for history and 30 for geography and 10% for civics and economics. Id get a nice 50 odd in history. My high school social never crossed the 65 barrier. Go figure!
22. I have an awesome memory for important facts. This does not include dates, numbers, names, faces, appointments, promises and the likes.
23. I think I experiment a lot. Some people call it “fooling around”, but yeah- that’s just them!
24. Im a fast person. I need to get things done when I feel the heat. Right here. Right now. The ideal gestation period of my idea is between two hours and a week.
25. I blog. Markiv is the inverse of the name my parents gave me, in case you still haven’t figured it out. I know it isn’t the most creative, but I love my name. Especially when the firangs pronounce it like “Wee-Kh-Wom”. I don’t like it when the use the “Wee-Kkum” version. That’s a whole 60% reduction from the original.
After all these years of blaming my artistic talents for the lack of any productive creativity, tools like this really rub a coating off that excuse. Well, its too simple for my genius…
But well, try it out and send me a link. Perhaps it works with you…
GoAnimate.com: meetings in the downturn
Like it? Create your own at GoAnimate.com. It’s free and fun!
Tags: boredom, funny, irony, irritation, life, markiv, phd, poetry, quit, random
Times’ been slow
Since I got my feet
Off fair grounds
And in, this deep
To get all wise
And before the year
Crapped and pooped
In search of light
In comes the experienced
With wisdom, sound
Of years, stuck
Of being around
“But that’s the way
Its done, you see…
That’s the way
Of Pee Eich Dee..”
More Ex, More Y
I need more Data
“Sir, one more try?”
A beta here,
And a gamma there
And throw a square
But that’s just the beginning
Of this tale of woe
Partial it out
With the vector’s Doe
Wake up in the morning
And get all dressed
Then tear it out
“It won’t regress”
So the cubicle’s set
On the chair all perched
Google, Orkut, Facebook
In the name of research
Then there’s the break
As humans deserve
When you get all guilty
Try to graph that curve
“Its not linear, sir-
Its just not flat,
I can’t adjust that R-Square
Or derive Y-Hat”
Can’t question the process
Can’t scream “Why Me?”
Apparently that’s just
The Pee Eich Dee!
The day wears on,
To the break of lunch
Get off my comp
Break off that hunch
The fridge is empty
So eat out once more
Like we did yesterday
And the day before
What will it be?
We could have Chinese…
“More Tofu, please?”
Or we could go dashing
For veggies in bread
And try to remember
Those days, well fed
And there goes the billing
All my savings, spent
Seven wholesome dollars
And twenty one cents
Oh, did you expect
They’d give it off, free?
Just ‘cos I’m a poor victim
Of Pee Eich Dee?
So that all done,
Its time to rest
Admist five journals
And two more tests
That paper isn’t reviewed
And Mr.Lagrange can’t wait
But that FB game
Is too good a bait
Until you realize
Your work’s out of scope
And diversions keep pushing you
On the slippery slope
Deadlines to meet,
Motivated by fear
Wake up, realize
You’ve got five years…
The purpose of life
A longing glance
At that elusive knife
And to the end you think
What is it worth?
When all but boredom
You’re in forever, dearth…
A doctor before
And nothing much after
And you get down thinking
Does a name really matter?
Its all transient
But I’m going to flee
Adieu to you
Hail, Pee Eich Dee….
Tags: assassin, crazy, crowd, dark, death, follow, gloomy, hunt, mad, markiv, murder, paranoia, suicide
The darkness is closing in. I can feel it. Today must be the day… I have been waiting for this moment for days now… Years… Scared, careful, nervous… I run down the silent lanes, trying to hide between the shadows. Why did I ever leave the crowds? Surely that would have been safer.
I turn around now, hoping to see him. I have never had much of a glance, but I know he is in there. I can feel him eyeing me, always ready to pounce on a moment of weakness. I must know. After all, I have known this dread since I was ten. Perhaps earlier, but I couldn’t remember.
Yes. Between talking to friends in the group, while walking back home, on the drive. I have felt him all the time… It has struck me at times that the imposter could perhaps be disguised as a true friend in the group. One could never be as careful. Groping around in the dark, searching for that tinge of vested interest. For in the dynamics of the world today, one can be destroyed in ways far more devastating than the bullet.
I am sure I have heard his footsteps following me. A talented agent, he sure is, but even the smartest make mistakes. Yet his greatness is in covering his steps just as quickly, ever ready to be driven back to alertness. And one must give some leeway for the patience through over two decades… Like a shadow… A masked terror of death that I still cannot but awe…
My pace gets quicker. I can feel his breath on my side. I have tried confiding the truth to apparent friends in moments of drunken trust. I have been certified paranoid, to the extent of doubting my own sanity. But it is only the truth.
I can trust no one. Not the silence of darkness, nor the crowds of murderers. I can sense the plan in motion. Time is closing in. The predator is tired of the wait. I must start running again. And this time, only faster…
The pain of the bullet is now sinking in. Suddenly I feel no more pain. I smile at my genius flip over the enemy’s guard. Unexpected, I tell myself. The feeling of cold steel burning in my flesh. I drop the knife from my hand. I have beat him at last. I have made his years of chase futile.
I stop. There is no one following me. The world is not out to get me. The crowds are running, late to work. No one seems to care for that bleeding victim. No time for another lunatic. I see the crowds, still about in a blur of red and black.
Perhaps I was truly paranoid all my life. Perhaps there was no one to begin with. Perhaps the enemy never felt me that important.
Insulted and unimportant the corpse falls into the dark lonely side street. A mere corpse.
Tags: bhaskaran, birthday, markiv, november, thirteen, time, time zone, vikram
It must have been about this time last year. I guess it must have because my birthdays so far have been fairly consistent in date and time. Frowning at the mokkai already? No wait, don’t close the browsers or start typing that “Happy Birthday” comment right away!
If there is one thing I really adore about my birthdays, other than the fact that I was born on that day and time, is that they are highly predictable, repeatable and fairly consistent. Love it or hate it, but wake up on the morning of the thirteenth day of the eleventh month, year after year, every year (after the mid 80s), and you can be fairly assured that its my birthday.
Well, not anymore. Longitudes, time zones and the presidential elections to blame! All my life, in physics, math and logic, I have been taught about the consistency of time (under baseline limitations- don’t get me started on poor Albert now). A good six months or so ago, I made a decision with minimal forethought on its implications on possibly the most important day in my non-research-grant-awarded, not-yet-doctrate-obtained, non-US-presidency-winning, non-married existence. I decided to follow educational pursuits half way across the globe.
Caught in a time wrap, stuck in the past by a good half day, in the place I thought was centuries advanced in thought and deed. Now if that doesn’t make this confusing enough, add a liberal dose of day-lights savings in, and there you are, with a complete loss of day, time and hour.
I shall go with the flow of time, as great philosophers of my kind often do. Its my birthday on the 13th day of the 11th month. On the 12th hour (in the pm) of the 12th night if you will. Eastern standard time. Its my day and I shall hold it on my time!
PS: Blaming the time zone is not an excuse- if you haven’t wished me already, you will be eternally damned in hell!
Tags: age, arranged, chennai, college, desi, girl, girlfriend, guy 24, How To, india, indian, kaadhal, love, love doctor, lover, maami, markiv, marriage, matrimony, mount road, mylai, mylapore, philosophy, prospect, prospecting, relationship, request for proposal, rfp, vikram
A Lesson on Prospecting….
Last weekend was truly a reality check. An awesome trip through nature, enjoying the sight of fall leaves withering,cold and dehydrated…taking pictures of them, as they fall down to the ground dead and lifeless. A beautiful sight worth romance indeed.
That was also when one of my closest friends told me he was getting married in less than a year from now. Flabbergasted. My first hit-on-the-head that my age had crossed those goofy college years was when girlfriends told me they were getting married. With others. Blame arranged marriage, but girls my age are now either too busy nursing their babies or developing them, that they are no longer on the list of prospects. Legitimate babies, mind you.
But well, Boo (name changed to protect identity) is the first guy in the group thats taken this “last step forward”. That he is also the only guy in the group with anything even mildly close to female companionship is immaterial at this point of discussion. And Im pretty sure that all the other guys are going to run in too. One has already resigned to letting the elders do the sights, and I hear his jaadhagam (astronomical grid that has the address of the bride/groom-to-be) is already on the front cover of Mylapore Maami’s Guild. Another is sifting through Bangalore hoping to reap something worthwhile, and has accepted my advice to sport the devdas look.
Last weekend I also had the benefit of deep discussions with famous philosopher Chirayu. Yes, that’s a name. This post is, in fact, the juice of this genius discussion. Genius, primarily because he agreed with most of what I said, but Im going to go with the fact that this ingenious philosopher is older (by 6 months) and wiser (has a Masters) and therefore speaks objective truth.
The Art of Prospecting
If you are 24, indian, male and single (and not trying), chances are you are going to be that way for a pretty long time to come. Except for the 24 part, that is. And after a point, the trying part just doesn’t matter either.
Remember that boyfried-girlfriend couple in college? The one that wasted their time going to merry-go-rounds in MGM while you headed to the TASMAC? Remember thinking about how they were wasting their young days and individualism? About how you were laughing when they told you they were going to get married the day they got out of college, just in case they ever did? Sit in a corner and cry now, moron. And then join me for another TASMAC, if you will.
When guys are in high school and start going out with their first girl friend, they have dreams of a beautiful marriage, a house with dogs (kids are still out) and a good life ahead, By the time they get to the middle of college with their fifteenth, the thought cycle doesn’t get much beyond transplanting saliva, and hope to transfer genetic material as well. By the thirtieth its just trial and error.
Women, on the other hand, start with a trial period before maturing into a dream-angel-that-did-not-go-out-with-markiv stage (termed ‘soul’ in classic Tamil literature)*. By the time they move to the final years of college, they have it all figured out.
Assuming a guy and a girl are in true, eternal, divine, deiveega love, lets run a root cause. The girl could have lost hope of repeat romance and just stuck on to the trial, or experience and societal pressures could have pushed her to commitment. Obviously the optimal case for the ‘Guy’ parameter is if this were his first (and only) relationship. Ever.
Now, guys, don’t just close your browsers already. I know your love history most likely resembles Mount Road surface after the rains, but we really got something for you too.
Now back to the analysis. I don’t really think there exists a high enough chance of a newbie guy going out with an experienced other. Riffs would erupt, egos would mount, hell would break lose. And the girl would just sign the guy off as a kid. No. That must not be. Most often it is the firsts from both dimensions that seems to work.
That brings us to our predicament- yours and mine. The next is probably not going to be your first. For the remainder of this discussion, lets assume that you, at least briefly at this point, decide to make this your last. Face it- the years are running through. Guys around have started sealing their duality. Girls your age are out. Reality!
Prospecting begins with understanding the problem. Indian girls generally get married around 24, with a threshold between 22 and 26. Familial pressure starts at around 21 and most girls give in and leave the matter to the afore mentioned mylapore maamis guild by about 23. Further most of this set would be off the candidates list by their 24th birthday.
Most good looking girls, 24 and over, still not married either have a very high pressure tolerance or are already committed. And there is a good chance that most 23-and-over lovers end up getting married. Not due to any higher maturity here, but simply because they have far lesser time to hate each other before the marriage-age (as opposed to the good 6-8 years from early college). Not much of a chance here.
And if a girl looks good and has been warding off the pressures at home, despite being single enough, there is a good chance she has been getting a lot of RFPs (request for proposal, you non IT nits!). And if she still remains single, chances of you going out with her are pretty low. Especially for someone who has to read blog posts on How to Fall in Love!
But the bright side is, women tend to know that guys would tend to know that if they (girls) were single at 24 the chances of a guy asking them out is pretty low (due to the afore mentioned). That makes them more desperate at a threshold age of realization. I would ball park this at around 22-23.
There you go- find a beautiful, single, non-pressurized-but-likely-to-be, indian girl and time your RFP to the threshold age. Oh and did I mention smart? In case that leaks out (and that is a good thing) just make sure she understands the “Guess 2/3 of the Average Game”**.
Note: If you are 26 or older the game’s up for you old pal. Trust the Mylai Maamis.
PS: If you are a girl and think you satisfy the good looking part please do send me an offliner. The Mylapore Maamis have it against me ever since I wrote this!
*- One may assume that some women, most women or all women jump over this stage, depending on the amount of feminist one assumes oneself to be.
**- In case you are too tired to read through, this is a game in which each player’s move is his best strategy, based on his assumption of what the other players would pull. Like speculation in the stock markets.
Tags: Add new tag, boyfriend, duality, girl, girlfriend, heart, How To, love, markiv, relationship, single, singularity, vikram
I have decided to write. I have been wanting to for a while now. No, not just on this blog. The irregularity here, I have pretty much consoled myself to. Perhaps even reconciled to the inability, googling and wiki-ing writer’s block and a thousand other phrases that could merely justify my lack of initiative.
I have even been talking about moving to my own domain. I don’t know why. From the looks of it, even the ownership of this space, with its sporadic posts, most of whose quality no longer impresses my sophisticated clientele of two, is a bit too off target. I either need newer ideas, which aren’t coming in, or newer clientele, that aren’t thronging either! Then again, I have the cash, and everybody with any internet knowledge and cash are buying their own domains. So Im just going to get mine and justify the venture to myself with the claim that it would at least suffice as an address when I get into doing what I eventually should be doing- making more money.
Anyway, this post is not even about any of that. This is a post that I have been wanting to write, perhaps even before the launch of my first blog ever (I have subsequently had three before this one, all killed due to illness, disease, old age and bad frequency).
No, its not the average run-off-the-mill How-To post. I can pretty much throw a guarantee that an honest following of the directions below would find you in truest of true love. If you don’t I’ll give you back every penny you paid for this advice right here.
Quite obviously, those in true love would never even think of commoditizing their apparent pot of gold, while those outside would ideally not be advice-worthy. Therefore the great responsibility comes down to me, the knowledgeable, wise and good. And since the knowledgeable, wise and good are currently working on Open-Source G-Phones, its my word against yours. And the comments are moderated.
For starters, let’s begin with a basic defenition I would be using in a greater part of this post, and any follow ups if my end button starts working again (got pulled out during a game a couple of weeks back and though I don’t really much ever used the key, the difference is kind of distracting). The concept of singularity and duality.
Any sixth grader would know that these glorious words take roots in advanced particle physics. Science, maths, philosophy, Swamy and a bunch of other documented crap would go great depths to bring in the various absolute, relative, objective, subjective views of these concepts. And to give them theri fair credit, their contribution has been to the greater good of mankind- you and me. Actually, it hasn’t….
But well, the meaning should be pretty obvious. Singularity is a status of single-ness, a term used to define one’s inability to impress a girl, and further cover it up with excuses of quality, attitude and preference. Duality refers to the status of non-singularity, marked by the existence of a single person in two states- the boyfriend and the girlfriend.
The uncertainity theory clearly states that it is impossible to claim, with 100% confidence both the state and level of desperation of a person. That is, the surer we are about our percieved singularity or duality, the less certain we will be about our level of desperation. Therefore, the truly single or dual person tend to live in ignorance of their own despo status until external realization dawns in, muddling the clarity in their status.Further, extreme duality may be associated with a nagging sense of foreboding, and a total loss of individualism. The terms could further be extrapolated to single-dom, though a specific dual-dom does not exist.
The concept of existing in more than two states, wherein a single boyfriend can peacefully co-exist with more than one woman is laughably negligible since peacefully and co-exist are impossible assumptions in the subject matter of two girls. In similar light, since multiple boyfriends tied to a single girl break the very purpose of a girlfirend- to break any form of intra male communication channels, this again is not a case worth consideration.
Now that we got that cleared, this post is a guide to move from singularity to duality. I do not endorse the move, however. Nor do I oppose it. In fact I understand the pains of either side pretty simply put.
Let us analyze the case of singularity here. I go as much to put forth the hypothesis that singularity is often not a field of choice. If you are living a solo, pathetic life with no one to call to on those boring evenings, sitting around commenting on the hours your not-so-single friends spend on the phone, and getting unwarranted “How To”s from every tom, DICK and hairy, especially female dicks and hairy’s, I don’t really believe you are enjoying those glorious moments. I know you yearn to have a beautiful tamil-movie-love that brings joy to your existence. I know it sounds like a sad life. That’s probably because it is. And its not even worth a debate- I say so!
On the other side, if your life consists of hours listening intently to meaningless gibberish on the phone while your “free” friends are having a riot commenting around, bound by having to make those incessant phone calls every few hours and pretty much have a tied down life with neither time, nor patience, nor energy, nor the independence to do what you would logically assume to be greater pleasures of being a man, that couldn’t really be much fun either. Since logical people would not take this upon themselves, one would be motivated to claim that duality, therefore, is not a field of choice either. However, since we are talking about the romantics here, the assumption of logic in the previous line does break down.
The point being- love is a field of choice. It probably does happen miraculously when you bump into the perfect one across the library or when you thrash the bunch of assholes who were throwing sexist comments in her vicinity. There again, the assumption of “perfect one” is quite questionable. Moreover, I wouldn’t presume the average reader around here (direct and those who google for stuff like “this”) to have ever walked around a library, let alone beat up meanies. In fact I could quite safely assume you’d be amongst the guys making those sexist comments.
No. I hate to break your heart. But “Love through Accident” is not for you. Don’t get disillusioned by taking the accident part too literal. You’d rather have an auto guy put you in that hospital and that humungous middle aged mallu nurse aunty at Best Hospitals sew those cuts than a hot babe that looks down and goes “achachooo”.
No my friend. The only way to break the single barrier is through strategizing. Through careful planning. Contigencies. Deep thought. More strategizing. Generous donations to my paypal.
The first step in your elaborate plan-de-plan (anything to do with plans, secrecy or love have to be French. Anything with a “de” in the middle becomes French!) is to define the viewpoint. I have observed successful relationships over the years, success defined merely by the ability to coexist in the same room with less than three attempts to murder in one hour. In general, the plan-de-plan takes one of two decisive game plans. The cockroach plan and the mosquito plan. While both have their obvious advantages, the use of either technique is completely an individual choice.
The planning phase, which pretty much consists of identifying the path to be taken and the initial prospecting, is fairly common. At the end of this phase however, the experienced player should be able to determine the mode of operation to get started with the conquest of love since each mode takes drastically different approaches to this issue.
The Cockroach Plan: A sumptuous dinner waiting on the table. Another cup for the coffee. And who must you find waiting on the sink’s edge?
The best, and possibly the most satisfying solution cockroaches is to strike them multiple times, between their second leg and the mean distance between the third and end-of-body point. Of course the trusty broom would do just as good- breaking their body into unidentifiable pieces and throwing them around for other roaches to eat, therefore pushing them towards a degeneration of their moral fibre, decadence and an eventual destruction of the roach civilization.
The cockroach plan takes a pretty similar view point. Strike with minimal resources, but strike fast and efficient before the victim (love-ee) has a chance to realize.
The Mosquito Plan: Ever so gently as you drift into the glorious semi-dream pre-sleep state, sinking back into the soft comforts of your bed, the covers thrown lazily over your torso, imagine that irritating whistle as the most elusive of beasts flies by.
Waking up and trying to kill that mosquito would not generally have the same effect. You could shoo-shoo them all night and still they would have gotten enough of your blood to donate to Hindu Mission Hospital. And the whistle would continue. The mosquito-way involves technology. Procurement. Your sleep is pretty much ruled out tonight, but tomorrow could be secured with the mats and coils and creams and sprays. The pleasures of watching those flying dingbats get drowsy and fall off as you drift into peaceful sleep, inhaling more monoxides than you would care is in itself worth last night’s bite.
An important note here is that the mosquito plan requires a more detailed plan than merely point-and-shoot. It requires the investment of time and capital. A slow diffusion of thought. However, the mosquito plan is generally more workable than the cockroach plan. Especially because there is a lesser chance of you coming out looking stupid if the plan bombs.
Now, now, don’t jump in yet. This is merely the tip of the iceberg of an elaborate thesis. Yes, my friend. You can fall in love too. Or at least hope to. May be not, but then, that’s just you.
P.S.: I hope to put up a follow through post. Sometime.
P.P.S.: I am also getting married to the girl I have been in love with for over nine years now.
P.P.P.S.: No, Im not really, but that’ll teach you not to waste time around post scripts.