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Desi Boy = 15 Yr Old Caucasian Girl

A freshly graduated Desi boy is the same as a fifteen year old Caucasian girl. India's sub-hundred years of independence and the over two hundred years of dependence is to blame.

I realise that the above two statements are pretty bold and I will lay down my case. I am talking about a recently graduated desi boy in the US of A with a fresh job, trying to soothe terrible wounds of being separated from those other guys that were his friends and family for the entire course of his master's education. In a new city, all people are alien, and he only has one roommate's shoulders to seek comfort rather than the ten plus pairs of shoulders he had in his little university town. He starts his social life in the new city with two commandments...all americans are the same and they have no culture. This implies that there are no American new friends to be made and no culture to explore other than movie and cartoon oriented theme parks. Then he proceeds to get himself a cell phone with unlimited in-network calls to be in-network with his lost buddies.

India is not blamed till this point.

Then calls are made. From everywhere and every time. That is where they push my 'Jack-ass' button. The phone is glued to the ear making that desparate call to his soul-mates from driving to work to eating dinner. "I understand that you need to keep in touch, but damn son, there is a difference between keeping in touch and being an active part of the life of your male friend from 600 miles away!" Americans, with their super-duper-sensitive radar for fruit-cakes call such behaviour 'Gay'. Anyway, one needs to have a riding lawn mower, a truck with either a gun-rack or a fishing-rod-rack in the back to qualify as straight in this free American society.

The worst a desi boy can do to me is talk incessantly on his cell phone about mundane stuff with his BFF while in the car with me driving or while at my dinner table. If that desi boy is an old friend, I will ask him to mind himself, but if he is an acquaintance, I cant even tell him what an asshole he is. "No one gives you the right to make me look like a damn chauffeur and isolate the rest of the occupants of the car because you decided to have your chat at this very moment." I am not talking about making or taking a courtesy call. Desis talk about everything under the sun when someone else is driving. Moreover, they do it so naturally. Did I miss a course at school or a secret all-men-clan meeting in India because that behaviour is highly dis-respecting and ridiculous.

This is where India comes in. I blame the immaturity to the sub-hundred years of independence for this dis-respectful lack of etiquette.

And when he is not on the phone, he is on Orkut scrapping the very friends he spoke to for hours or finding cute girls to drop stupid scraps to.

That is the exact equivalent of a fifteen year old Caucasian girl who, if not texting her friends is on MySpace commenting at their profile. Caucasian parents, please be a little liberal on those H1B laws and increases your chances of finding a daughter in everyone of us.

Saturday Night Walk

Me, J and P(J's 12 yr old nephew) walk out with Laya and Eddie. Laya on the leash with me, Eddie on the leash with J.
Eddie and Laya pee on the first patch of grass they see.
Watching the pups in ecstacy as they disperse out over-due fluids makes little P want to pee too.
Laya: [peeing in complete satisfaction]
Eddie: [peeing in complete satisfaction]
P: [watching the puppies in complete satisfaction] I want to pee too!
Me: Walk on the grass, P. It works for the pups.
J: [Laughs]

we walk further....

P: [walks away behind a tree]
J: [whispering to me with evil grin] Shek, P really had to go, so I told him to go behind a bush!
Me: You've got to be shitting me! Haven't seen anyone do that in exactly three years!

we walk towards the tree....It is too dark and we see P standing behind the tree with a steady stream in front!

Me: [acting dazed and confused, reaching into my pocket for my cell phone] where is my camera phone!
J: [shouting as if in a shock] what are you doing, boy! What are you doing?!?!?!
Me: [shouting in confusion] How do I start the camera on this thing!
P: [stops half way on his activity and runs from the phone camera's limited range] J told me to. I am not doing anything [in denial]!!!
Me: [laughing my head off] almost got you on camera, P
James: [laughing his ass off]
P: [laughs his ass of on his recent folly]

we walk back home laughing all the way....

Moral: you've got to take life as a joke. If a 12 year old can, you can too.

Mini-Me

Conversations with my kid brother are like eating a raspberry meringue, tart and juicy raspberries on top of a dry and sweet egg white base. Sometimes I feel we are trying to have a conversation from either poles of the world and sometimes it is like speaking to a mirror.

Here is us hanging out in sunny Florida.

IN YOUR FACE

It's Alive...It's Alive...
Amit got this kick-ass template done. Deep respect, bro.

I am not a classic rock lover, just more new hard rock...but Amit is.

Pound it!!!

Rob zombie - dragu...

Wish you were here....

Heard this song on my way to work today. It is funny how a stressful week makes you remember people. I wish you were here....

Incubus - I Wish Y...

I wish Pandey was here.
I wish Maman Didi was here.
I wish Dad was here.
I wish Sven and Trini were here. He's been like a big brother to me.
I wish Twix was here and I wish we were still friends (Damn you Ipanema Girl!)

The world's a roller coaster
And I am not strapped in
Maybe I should hold with care
But my hands are busy in the air saying: I wish you were here

Rowe's Shrek

This is a tribute from Rowena to me. I hope for you enjoy it as much as I did.

Nice Guys

The world is a cold and harsh place for nice guys. A-holes get the cute chicks and nice guys remain 'good friends'(read: expendable). It is seriously hard to be a genuinely nice person without being branded as unmanly and weird. How many of you have been nice to others only to never be appreciated and taken for granted? I am not saying that you should only be nice so you can be appreciated, but a pat on the back helps. How many of you have tried to honestly tell a girl that you like her without being shooed away?

It has been confirmed by a certain lady friend that cute chicks actually prefer a-holes. With a-holes, no speculation is needed to analyze what kind of a guy he is. He is simply an a-hole and will probably dump one cute chick for another. Now nice guys are an unknown. The dreaded 'x' in the algebra test. Even after a lot of calculations, girls don't know what 'x' is until the results come out. Ladies, I will solve the suspense for you today. 97% of nice guys are actually psychologically challenged immature adolescents who wont grow till they are 70. Then they become teenagers. Women, not all guys are the same. I know that concept sounds real good in your head but it is not true.

What hope do the 3% genuinely nice guys have in life? Are they always supposed to hold the doors open while hordes of people walk by, let other cars in their turning lane at the last minute? They have to protect their good, and to do that, they have to be a little bad. Stop helping around ungrateful people who will never appreciate your concerns. I protect my goodness by being headstrong sometimes (I am very very accommodating otherwise). Nice people, stop taking crap from others, be a little bad, open your mouth and say 'No fcuking way!' when you don't like something. Be more confrontational but be prudent. When in doubt, use this track. Hang tight...

Anil's Birthday

I have cranked up the laptop volume, headphones firmly pressed on my ears. Anna Molly is streaming though. Sitting on the porch of Anil’s second floor apartment, looking at the peach row of apartments sitting behind the stagnant-water-lake and the high tree line behind it, I notice a car-compass sitting on the table in front of me. The compass points exactly north-east to the direction I am looking at; Jacksonville Straight Ahead. A warm breeze flutters in occasionally through the screens on the patio. Kids play in the pool located beside the lake, but the sound of the water fountain drowns their playful screams.

This unfinished document makes me think why I am in Orlando in the first place. I wanted to try to write how much I enjoy the company of Anil, and that I drove ninety minutes right after work on Friday only to be here for his birthday, but that’s not all the reason why I am here. Something about an open word document makes me organize my thoughts more than my heart would want. Maybe this is what keeps me posting. Writing brings out my truest feelings and ideas, my frustrations and excitements. My fingers end up typing only the truth and nothing but the truth. What I can’t share publicly, I don’t write. Something about hiding behind the curtains of CSS, RSS and VB code and remaining incognito does not appeal to me today. I have been writing what I feel and experience in flesh and blood, and hence want my readers to associate my blog to flesh-and-blood me.

So, what am I in Orlando for? Three reasons:

1) Anil is a good friend and I wanted to wish him a happy birthday personally. Especially when I live so close!

2) I would have the opportunity to drive for three hours on the highway, crank up Octane and tear up some asphalt. My blog, Driven, got me pumped up and I wanted to drive long distances again. I love driving but I can’t drive without a destination. I know that the journey is more important than the destination, but it is also the presence of a solid destination that makes the journey worth while.

3) One of our common friend drove down from Gainesville, and he has a kick-ass girlfriend. She is obnoxiously outspoken, has a pretty good sense of humor and real fun to hang out with. To all you eyebrow raisers…I do not have a crush on her.
So here it is. The truth laid out on the table.

Friday was good. We had Udupi dinner at Woodlands, came home to watch a little bit of Finding Neverland, cut the cake, went out for drinks (Moi was the designated driver, so I sipped on Coke while every one had tequila shots). Back home, we drank the most disgustingly toxic burgundy wine ever and played a very brain-taxing game of cards. I happily quit when the bunch of sevens got infected when they were placed for safekeeping by @&!£ too close to his family jewels. It was also 4:30 am and yours truly had been awake for almost twenty three hours. It is Saturday afternoon now and I want to go back to Jacksonville, to Laya. Anil wants me to stay on and hang out more.

I left Orlando at 5:04 pm, reached Jacksonville at 6:37 pm, had din din with James and his daughter.

Here are some pictures of the birthday cake (or what ever is left of it), and of the party animals taking a nap while I was writing this post.

Shek V/s Abhishek

For some one who is used to names like Jim, Bob and Chuck all his/her life, Abhishek can be quite intimidating. Mukherjee is even more. I am not going to be anal about being called by my full name. I wont make it a big deal if people can not pronounce my last name. Thats alright. This is a blog about whether I let people call me Shek or Abhishek.

I was at the dog park today and met with James, his lady love, Becky and her sister and brother in law and another family friend (very cool people to hang out with). Their names shall remain anonymous for the length of this blog. The plan was a casual evening at the dog park, me with Laya, James with Eddie and Becky's sister with her two dogs. James introduced me as Abhishek.

After the dog park, we re-grouped at Becky's sister's house for beer and dinner. Now, I have a habit of adding important pieces of information to a conversation where I am not the first or second person but am included in the topic. This is perceived as annoying by my friends, as I do this to my friends only...and they term this activity as 'Shek-ing'. Now, they say that they are being 'Sheked' no matter when I speak. What the hell, they are just being friends and pulling my leg. Therefore, as per James, I 'Sheked' him while he was explaining something to Becky. Thats where Becky's brother-in-law probably picked up Shek and then on referred to me as Shek. It was weird a few times but then, it got me thinking. Should I accept this. Should I Americanize my name? It is common to convert a James to Jimmy, Charles to Chuck/Chucky/Charlie/Chester, Richard to Dick, Thomas to Tom and so on. Therefore, should I allow Abhishek to become Shek?

It is actually a little more complicated. Separate arguments can be made based on what circle I am looking at. Professional or Casual. But in my case, those circles mix. I have friends from work that I hang out with other people with. So, it is really what name I am alright with, no matter what circle.

I would like to take the stance that Abhishek is the name that I should be referred by. For one, Shek is too informal. It looks good on a blog, with close friends etc. I think Shek is kinda cool too. Further, Shrek is my favorite cartoon character and it is kinda cool to have my a part of my first name rhyme with that. I could also be 'Shake' as in Master Shake...but I am a fan of Frylock. Plus, 'Shake' is not as cool as 'Shek'.

I also interact with VPs and Directors on a daily level, so Shek would make the whole conversation kinda unprofessional. Abhishek, even if it is hard to pronounce, keeps a certain professional tone in the conversation. Plus, all VPs pronounce my name properly. I guess I will continue with Abhishek. Please feel free to comment on this. I am open.

vitrien en illumina

I have been subscribing to Derek Hahn's photo blog titled vitrine en illumina. It is about time I wrote about him. I think his is the best photo blog among the ones I subscribe to. Here are a few samples of his work.

Please click on the picture for a larger size.

His work does make me want to take up photography as a full time job but I know for sure that I can not be as creative with what I see as he is. I'll harness my creativity towards CAST, the supply chain management software that I am trying to figure out.

Disclaimer:
Derek, I do not mean to plagiarize your work but putting it up is the only way I can get people to visit your site. Bloggers are known to have one of the shortest attention spans.

The Manatee

I read other's blogs on my google reader. This is a temporary fix till I buy a Macbook and use the super friendly Safari to read posts. I would, however, miss a convineant feature of the google reader...sharing posts. I normally go through anywhere between 20 to 30 blogs a day (50 to 70 posts) and some are interesting enough to share. I just click the share icon on the reader and the blog appears on my blogspot here: link. Some blogs, however, deserve more than just the share, so here it goes.

Shelley Batts blogged here about how Florida is planing to downsize manatee laws to promote water sports. Here is an extract:
Thing is, tourists and residents don't like the laws. They go to Florida to boat, and to boat as fast as they please, where-ever they please. Avid boaters have been extremely vocal opponents to laws restricting boat speed. When I volunteered at Mote Marine Observatory, there was palpable tension during boat races, when they expected that many manatees would be hurt or killed. Manatees are slow-moving creatures who need to surface for air--they don't stand a chance against high-speed boats ripping through their habitats. Do Florida legislators think that because there are *more* manatees they've suddenly become better at getting out of the way??

I say leave the manatees in peace.

Here is the Fair to Midland song, Dance of the Manatee. Why a video in this nature blog? It is a song about Manatees and it is hard rock. Crank it up and stay heavy...

Reshma Shah

My good friend, and possibly my oldest friend by far...has a website of her own. I hear she is a graphic designer of quite a repute and she has created her portfolio on her website: link

The website itself is slick and her work is vibrant, colorful and classy. Check it out and let me know which work you find the best. I like #5 Hindustan Times the best...though #8 Mooch Chap Bidi is the most funny.

Who is the Hottest Mom Online

'When I hear the word culture, I reach for my pistol.'...Reich Marshal Hermann Goring.

I hold very liberal views but having a 'Hottest Mom Online' competition is pushing it. Hottest Mom In America™ - The search for women who define modern day motherhood; they are beautiful, smart, talented moms who also happen to be HOT!. I am fine till the beautiful, smart and talented part (though I believe that every woman is beautiful, smart and talented), but I can't see HOT and MOM in the same sentence. Competing in a beauty contest is more dignified than competing here. Beauty contests concentrate more towards other aspects of womanhood than just hotness. I am not able to digest a contest being held to measure mothers hotness and I need help to understand it.

Am I being conservative and still claim to have a liberal mind? I am not a chauvinist and I would not like my readers to judge me like that.

My room mate's sister, Misty is competing. She has her video uploaded. You can view it here:

If you can not see the video, there is a glitch in the website. I will rectify it when the video becomes available.

Ma in Jax

My mom visited me for two months. I have been in the United States for over two and a half years without seeing my family. It was about time for my mom to visit me. Hopefully she had a good time. I enjoyed being with her after so long. She got a taste of the american way of life and some american food. Here are some pictures of her during her last week here. I dont have to write much about how I felt to have my mom with me for two months. Any good son would know how it feels to be with your mom after a long and hard time. I would like to know of her experience, though. It is something that you have to write, Ma, and send to me so I can post it.

Ladies and Gentlemen, here are some pictures of the Mother of the Year!