Goofy Google

The image below is of a Times of India article. You can see the Google Ads displayed after the article. Wonder if the law student can sue Google for this!?



Iyer

Juices

its been a dry dry season.
not a single creative thought.

need to get the juices flowing.
any suggestions how to?

Iyer

Goodbye

There are wounds that heal if left alone,
Wish I had known.
It was a selfish sport with a deadly sword.
You lay bare and let me prod.

I have to run now from the gory scene,
Leaving the job half done.
Lest I decapitate you, as a favour,
And put you out of your pain.

Sometimes you get used to doing wrong,
Till it bothers you no more.
Trampling over sunny hearts, their wishes,
Their trust so pure.

Humans have a conscience, they say,
Which speaks in hours of quiet.
Showing right and wrong, it leads you on
A path of true merit.

But I am an animal, a selfish one,
A horny billy-goat.
Conscience left me long ago,
With a very sore throat.

It’s goodbye for now, Let me leave,
So you see another day.
If ever you meet this bastard again,
Slit his throat, right away!


Iyer

Funny Notice Boards

Having come across this “Funny Notice Boards” forward from a friend, I am reminded of a joke shared by Mr. Navyug Mohnot, CEO of QAI, during the recent Outsourcing Exchange at Suntec City, Singapore:

A notice board in one of the fenced IT/BPO parks read thus -

PRIVATE PROPERTY.
TRESPASSERS WILL BE RECRUITED.

Iyer

Eyes full of dreams

Lolly had recently posted a nostalgic piece on the changing face of Bangalore. This change, not just in Bangalore, but in the whole of India has been a much talked about subject with the Tiger (and Dragon) stories firing the imaginations of everyone from poets to economists to the paani-poori wallas. It is a great ego boosting tea-time story about my able brown-skinned brethren (some like Machee are excluded) and their exploits.

During one such tea session a fellow teh-tarik fan quipped “Is this change good for everyone?” I really don’t know. I am just happy knowing my garden city which turned into a pub city is now India’s IT city. People on the roads of Bangalore are all happy and smiling. They sport branded clothes and accessories. All sorts of faces have appeared. All sorts of tongues fly and fill the evening sky with murmurs. The street corners were once the exclusive haunts of Kannada Kanmanis. Then came along the idli selling friendly thambis, followed by diamond seeking Goltis and not to be left behind thrifty Mallus who brought the omnipresent smell of coconut oil and Gulf money. But that was in the beginning. The cohort now extendes to the Punjabis, the Bongs, the Marwaris, the Jats, the Banias and even the mongoloid brothers from Assam, Sikkim and Tibet.

That’s the interesting thing about Bangalore – it is like an India in itself. Like India it invites everyone and somehow makes them proud Bangaloreans rather than dividing itself into ghettos. But this post is not about the greatness of Bangalore. Let’s get back to the original thread – the wave of change and growth Indian cities are undergoing – and whether it is really good for everyone.

With such a festive atmosphere it can only be said that all are happy and change is good. Just see the smile on these little kids. They are 260 kilometers away from Bangalore and their eyes are already full of dreams of the great life ahead. The following picture was taken during one of my treks in Coorg when my brother and I lost our way and ended up in a village. We were in search of certain “leaves”, but that’s another story I’ll keep for later.

Of these 5 cheerful monkeys I remember 3 names – that’s Harish with the raised tyre, the tall Pratap in the middle and Darshan with his arm over Pratap’s shoulders.

“Kelaginda photo baruttha? (Does the photo come out from below?)” Harish turns around to ask me. Bugger has seen too much TV or he has met tourists with Polaroid cameras before. I try and explain that I need to print them later.

“Namge photo kalustheera? (Will you send us the photo?)” He grins with anticipation. Of course I will I say and I look around to see where I can send it. The village comprises of less than a dozen huts of varying sizes. Who do I address it to and where do I send it? I can’t see any street names or house numbers.

“Neevu worry maadbedi Uncle! (Don’t worry about that Uncle!)” Darshan assures me his dad works as a security guard at the resort downhill (where we were staying) and he would pick it up from them. Well that was simple enough, I could do that, but only if they stopped calling me uncle. After a few trials they managed to incorporate “Anna (brother)” in the sentence and they even lead us back to our trekking trail.

Those happy fellows and their angelic smiles! I am yet to fulfill my promise.

A surge in wealth in Bangalore has resulted in a lot more weekend tourists visiting Coorg. These little kids and their village see a little more action and hopefully some more money from the resorts that are springing up all over. So growth in the city spills over with farm produce getting better prices, better roads being built to ease the city travelers, increased mobile connectivity and all the other goodies!

But is this phenomenon a minority? Why do we still hear cases of farmers in Andhra Pradesh committing suicide when monsoons fail to arrive on time? Why is there resurgence in the Naxal movement? Is Deve Gowda right after all? With “India Shining” do we expect the farmers to have eyes full of dreams as they go to bed on an empty stomach?

Iyer