Nokia, Sony and Open Mics (9/52)

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If you haven't linked the picture with the code yet, it translates to

"Da.. Sir came. Come fast"

Nokia 1100 and its peers were instrumental in fabricating the pioneers in under the table texting. But only people of a certain age will remember them. And yes, I'm old enough to be in that category.

 

Coming from that age, and looking over the current crop of people, I find them to have it easy. They have a whole keyboard to type and a HUGE screen to read from; they can swipe over the letters to make words; they can write the words on screen for the system to type out. The options are many. And this leads us to the lazy ones who have it easy - those who would rather record their voice and press send.

The intention of the chat was not to point fingers, but I'm talking to YOU - you know who you are, and you better not be sending me voice clips again.

***

In other news, I finally brought a PlayStation4 - after half a decade of "Should I or Shouldn't I?". The pointer was pushed onto the BUY side as a result of the sale going on at Amazon, where I got around 10k reduction in the price. Now, as per the history of my luck, they would launch the new version of PlayStation next month. At least that is what has happened with all of my phone purchases till date.

And yes, the rumours are true. I'm using the PlayStation to stream videos on Amazon Prime. But only when I'm taking a food break from playing FIFA - which is a marvel for me. I made the jump from FIFA 13 to FIFA 18 and got to witness what all has changed in one go. And it is a weird feeling to have a legitimate game in your house.

***

Before we wind up for the day, I would like to inform you of something. We had ventured inside a vegetarian restaurant the last Sunday (not this Sunday), and were treated to an unexpected "Open Mic". Unexpected only for us, as they had planned this out. We went into have coffee and vada, and were treated to a good hour of StandUp - which somehow put the idea in my head that I should do it.

I have been told that my online personality is a much better person than me in real life - mostly because you can't get my online self to shut up. If I'm able to channel the same to the real life, I will have something to work with. And instead of having to come up with bits, I'm planning to use my personal brand of self depreciation and life experiences to tickle the funny bone. I even have my opening bit sorted out.

***

"Do you know which kind of babies are weird? The ones who just won't smile at you. You can make all the stupid faces in the world, and they would just keep starring at you unimpressed. I have a nephew like that. And I'm sure what he would go on to become, when he grows up. He will be the one coming to Open Mics like this, to keep starring at the comedian like all of you."

Hopefully, cue laughter. Let me know.

Be Myself (8/52)

"We are two normal people in a normal relationship. There is nothing extraordinary about us. We need to work extra hard to make things special."

I don't remember where I heard that from last week, but it has been resonating in my head for long enough to be the beginning of our conversation today. And it made me want to talk about marriage.

It is really disheartening that the subject of post-marriage relationship is not put under more scrutiny in the mainstream media. Obviously that was bound to happen, with it being the less glamorous cousin of whatever comes before the marriage. It is a sketchy subject to talk about, because any and all ambiguity will be construed to be a reflection of the author's own dilemma.

The first and most important marriage advice that I have received till date is as follows.

"Marriage is always a negotiation. Everything will have to discussed and resolved. From the level of sugar in tea to the speed of the fan in the bedroom. Everything."

And with such levels of negotiation, it is imperative that changes happen in our behavior. If any of my friends are meeting me after a gap of three years or so, they would be surprised to see how much I've changed - not for good or for bad, but for my better half. And she has done the same for me.

But why would you go to the extend of changing two decades of your habit for another person's comfort? Because they are willing to let you be the person whom you thought you never could be. We all grow up with strict instructions on widely accepted norms on behavior and thoughts. We refrain ourselves from expressing ourselves as we want to, for the sake of not having to explain to your family, to the society.

But with Ammu, I can be myself finally. I don't have to hide my thoughts and behaviors, because she would not judge me. I can be weak or strong; vulnerable or domineering; sulk or be spontaneous - it doesn't matter as long as I'm honest with her. And it is not a one way street - she does the same too.

And we find this to be highly liberating. To be able to express yourself without any inhibition is a bliss in itself, and I hope we all can feel the same at some point in life.

***

LAZY AS....PART 2 (7/52)

Why is that one of the many, myriad things which irritate me is when people fail to comprehend something the way I do? And why does the same always surprise me? Is it not a fairly common phenomenon? Or is it because of my inability to wrap my mind around the concept that different people have different views?

At some point of time, have you ever felt happy for someone else, while being sad for yourself? Or have you felt happy for yourself, but sad for someone else? Have you not wished that there would be a single word these?

Are you now wondering why I am on this particular rant? Aren't you a little miffed that it took me 12 days to get back to you after the last time we talked? Or am I being presumptuous in my evaluation of your feelings? Should I bring you a box of tissues?

Will it be enlightening to know that this is the result of one person making fun of my all question chat that I once written? Are you not familiar with the "Is this the Incoherent ramblings of an Incompetent Mind?"? Is this my way of petty way of showing that person that I don't care what they think?

Or is the title unambiguous enough to let you that I'm running short of time and making a hotchpotch? What does the Part 2 in the title mean? Would you like to know more? Have you not wondered what the script writers in Television series do when they run out of ideas and time? Would it be amiss to presume that you have noticed the episodes with a higher dose of flashbacks? Are you still wondering if that is not exactly what I am going to do now?

***

1. Would you like to know the part one of this particular chat? Would you please click on this link to know more?

2. What were my thoughts when the present Government at the Centre came to power four years ago? Would you like to know how I evaluate them by their performance? Can you wait a little longer?

3. How did I propose to my dear Ammu? Would you believe that I made her change her answer online from "I Love You" to "YES", as the latter was the appropriate and intended answer?

4. Would you believe that I actually wrote one chat by hand and posted the pictures online on the first anniversary of writing weekly? Will such a special one be waiting for you at the end of this series?

5. Did you know that in April 2014 I had written a blog titled "Accidents Happen"? Do you know that it was about the perfect mismatch I have ever seen? Would you correctly guess the answer as immensely happy, if you were to ask me how those two are doing now?

***

Are you wondering what is it with me and the number five? Would you be happy to know that it was because I initially started blogging to discuss five points every week? Are you bored of me asking me all these questions?

Mea culpa - (6/52)

"I prefer to make my own mistakes rather than follow your advice blindly."

If I were to request for a show of hands now, as to how many of us have had this thought on a scroller in the Times Square of our minds, as our ears braved yet another onslaught from the We-Know-Better squad, I'm pretty sure that it would be easier for me to count the number of people who have their hands down. Kudos to you and your nirvana levels of patience; or Suppandi levels of stupidity, as the case may be.

I'm now 29 years old (not 30 until I reach thirty - 96 days more). I've had enough experiences through four schools, four years of college, four different jobs and four blissful years of love to say with some authority that I've made some mistakes that I don't want you to make. Of course, I'll never say that I made mistakes. I'll say that I have some advice for you.

Human beings are supposed to be evolved. And the process of evolution was always based on not doing what got the previous batch extinct. Haven't you ever wondered what would have happened, if the first set of parents in this world were not exactly keen on stopping their kids from jumping off a cliff? Evolution was, is and will always be through a flow of information - based largely on previous experiences and extrapolation of the same.

So, if I found out to my detriment, that taking some time to cool off during the first year in college, after two strenuous years preparing for what not, is going to affect my GPA in an irreversible manner, then I am bound by the rules of society to inform of this peril to my successors - if not all of them, at least to those I care about.

Moving on to the case of choosing friends, best friends and more than friends. Over the past 15 years, I've seen love stories and heartbreaks that are yet to grace the silver screens. Being an unsuccessful relationship advisor has helped me in honing my skills of flagging the wrong ones. This, again, made it my duty to warn you.

It is the right of the old to forsake the modern. And my brother always complains that I'm have hit  old age mentally. So, all the new concepts of style and behaviour are, by default, a strain on my decades old nerve paths. I find it hard to rewire myself, and realize that it is easier to refrain you from doing what bugs me.

And it is not like the travel of advice is unidirectional. I have had people give me advice. My earliest memory is from this random guy on the road. I was walking back from school, with a bag full of books weighing me down. He was painting the boundary walls of a neighbour. He asked me to stop, came over and told me, "You are really tall. So, please don't stoop. Walk tall with a straight back. Be proud of your height." That is an advice I took to heart, and have been doing till this day.

I also remember another advice that I took. This senior from college told me in the first week I reached there that it is okay to not score great marks, as you will always get a great job with an average GPA, given the track record of the college at getting placements. He was three years senior to me. He had a GPA lesser than me, and got a great job. When it was time for me, recession hit, and those companies didn't even come to the campus.

This is the hand of fate in action. You might follow my advice to the word, and get a different result. Life is not a science experiment - you can't expect the same result always. There are too many variables. So, I have come to realise, overdue regrettably, that you are the master of your own life. You need to make mistakes at your will to have complete responsibility of your actions.

I have been given enough advice - which have been accepted or rejected, but entirely at my will. Some have led to a thronier path, but I'm glad to put my hand up and say that it is of my own making. And as long as you are willing to do that, I should not be ignoring you for not taking my advice. 

***

If this whole thing feels like a monologue in a play, please rest assured that this was meant to be one. I have written it down, because I wasn't sure how much of this would be relayed to you in a two-way communication. Grappling with my thoughts mid way, trying to piece together your reaction up to that point, so that I can alter my words accordingly might have taken away the idea I want to convey.

I have done a lot of things in the time I've been here. I have the burden of experience to help you. But I understand that it is your decision to ask me for advice, not mine to force upon you.

***

I thought the train of thoughts here was too relevant to be not shared in public. Hence, the feast for you peeping toms. Hope you enjoyed this private conversation.

***

Event-ful week (5/52)

Event One

One evening during the past week, I happened to climb abroad this contraption, which would elevate me to my destination nine stories up on that building. Confined along with me, at that time, in that three-by-three space, where a family of three, including a teenage girl. They were the original occupants, with me intruding upon their familial space.

To say that I stunk would be an understatement. In turn, this made the matter of our elevation a very unpleasant one. As the door was closing on their hind sides, two floors before I had to leave, I could see their torsos swelling with a fresh batch of decent air.

The reason for my foul odour was the brisk thirty minutes walk I took, just before climbing on to the contraption. I was dropped at Edappally Junction after a meeting, and I chose to walk to my place. I eschewed the option of taking a bus, or the more urban habit of hailing an Uber, as suggested by my wifey, who has made Uber travel a routine.

***

Event Two

So after around a decade of dilemma, my parents have finally booked a Honda City. Going to sleep with a decision to book the car, only to wake up with a decision to delay the execution of the previous one was a recurring theme at home. With the car now booked, the question of where to apply for loan was quickly finalized. (SBI, of course!!!). Hearing this, a banker friend of mine, suggested that her bank had an offer for people booking Toyota Cars. When I asked her why this piece of information was relevant, she asked, "Isn't City a Toyota car?".

My palm could not have hit my face any faster.

***

Event Three

How much time does it take to repair a punctured Royal Enfield Thunderbird 350? Around 3 hours.

Around 12pm, I leave home, pushing my fallen beast of 200kg. Over the next sixty minutes, I was turned away by three different puncture fixers saying that they have no idea how to remove the tyre from the vehicle. Eventually, I was pointed in the direction of the Enfield factory workshop.

At the workshop, they say they would  be happy to remove the tyre for me - but for a charge, and that they can't fix the puncture. I would have to take the disembodied wheel to the puncture repair shop, get it fixed, and bring it back - so that these people can help it take its rightful place.

That's how we got the answer as three hours.

***

Event Four

I went through the stuff I've written over the years here. Turns out that like always, the self-depreciating sense of humour in me was the winner for the most read post of "Ormayundo?". So what do I do about that? I went ahead and shared that link again. And WHOA!!! Did I just do that again?? :D

***

Event Five

To end today's session, let me recount something which happened just today morning.

We were on our weekly pilgrimage to the Mall of Lulu, Edappally, and were entering the shrine from the less used second entrance. Ammu was on the seat next to the driver. As soon as the car made the turn into that entrance, she said what has said multiple times to the Uber drivers, "Why are you taking the car in from here? You could have dropped us at the main entrance."

All I could do was look to my left - and stare at her - in disbelief.