Impressions of a Confused Global Soul (and other tired cliches)

Free Rice

2007-10-28T20:03:00.001-07:00

After many moons of silence, here I am again awakened - um largely because I'm waiting for an email at work without which I don't really have much to do...

I'm here to pitch a new website from many different angles. So first off, you can visit http://www.freerice.com/ to see what I'm talking about. Here's the brief version of what this site's about - it gives you a multiple choice vocabulary quiz (GMAT nightmares anyone), and for every word you guess right, the organization donates 10 grains of rice to the World Food Program. Doesn't seem like much, right? So here's a keeper for all you data driven consultant-types out there...the exponential power of the internet demonstrated in stark relief...

Free Rice started on October 7, 2007 and managed to muster only 830 grains of rice. That's about enough rice for one family for a day. The next day, this had multiplied nearly seven times to 5,670. By the end of the first week, the initial number had multiplied nearly 4,300 times to almost 3.6 million grains of rice. By the second week, the multiplier was 50,000 and the daily total was 40.5 million grains. Based on our initial assumption of 830 grains for one family for one day, the website is feeding 50,000 families daily in ONLY 2 WEEKS.

And hopefully, with blog posts like this one, and more traction in the media, this number will keep increasing exponentially. In case you don't quite understand how revolutionary the internet is as a distribution medium, imagine achieving this scale of growth with a physical office and volunteers walking around getting people to sign up.

So here's why Free Rice is a winning proposition:
It gives 5-15 minutes of fun and perks up the day of vocabulary freaks, language nerds and GMAT/GRE takers everywhere.
It generates donations to the World Food Program by using revenue from advertising
It harnesses the power of the internet to achieve scale

Enjoy!

2 Fathers

2006-09-20T12:13:00.000-07:00

S sent this link to me with the following email. I think it’s pretty self explanatory.

I don’t know why, I'm usually not keen on kids singing kitsch on TV shows, but this video was just incredibly astonishing moving, and touching - I was almost in tears by the end...

What’s amazing is this isn’t from an advert or movie...this is the real thing...complete with background chorus

Terence sings about his family on some kind of European (Dutch?) show for kids

Revisionist History

2006-09-03T10:40:00.000-07:00

So I’m on this internet discussion group that generally discusses all matters under the sun. One of the members sent in this post with pictures of the Taj Mahal and a long diatribe about how the Taj was originally a Shiv temple named Tejo Mahalaya. This argument isn’t new, and has been used repeatedly by the Hindu fundamentalist right to shore up its position that nothing good has ever come out of the Muslims being in India.

The moderator then refused to entertain any debate about that particular post because he claimed that the writer was only expressing an opinion from a ‘history point of view’ and further discussion would make it a ‘hot religious issue’.

The dubious Taj Mahal story comes from the work of a certain A.N. Oak who writes extensively on how the Taj could NOT be Muslim but gives very little in the form of hard historical evidence to prove that it was a temple. I think the issue here is not that this particular instance of revisionist history is a Hindu/Muslim thing; the larger issue is that he somehow thinks he can claim scholarly legitimacy without a single nod towards due process and exhaustive research.

And for the record, all I have to say is that 'Prof.' A.N. Oak is the founder of the Institute for Rewriting Indian History - an organization whose name says it all and which does not have any legitimacy at any University campus anywhere in India. And before you launch into a diatribe about how Indian University campuses are run by Marxists, think for a second about how India 'shines' on the very backs of graduates from these institutions.

Hindutva history's biggest firang proponent is this guy named Francois Gautier, a man who again has zero academic credentials, his only claim to fame being that he is a journalist. How that qualifies him as a historian, I will never know.

I wonder if these people would ever present their theses for scrutiny by a PhD committee or submit them for publication in a peer reviewed journal (including those journals that are politically aligned with them.). My hunch is that they'd be laughed out of the room when most of their 'research' is thrown out the window for being, how do I say this politely, shitty.

The basic truth is that historical 'facts' can be cooked up as easily as I can write this message.

So as someone who is often mocked as a pseudo secularist, I propose the creation of a new moniker. Please raise your glasses in a toast to the pseudo-academics.

Being a gay MBA

2006-08-13T15:22:00.000-07:00

Interesting article from Business week about how financial services firms are finally waking up to the potential of queer MBAs and trying to attract them both by aggressive recruitment and by realigning their organizational structures to be more inclusive.

Read article here

ISB Retro Party

2006-07-07T12:10:00.000-07:00

ISB Retro Party
Originally uploaded by apotia.

The GSB (Graduate Student Board) threw a big-ass party for the student body last Sunday.
Don't I look fabulous in my purple boa?!

2006-06-29T04:02:00.000-07:00

Dunking people in the ISB swimming pool - the grand old tradition...

A Blessed Life

2006-06-27T05:15:00.000-07:00

The following poem was taken from The Little Magazine, Vol. VI, Issue 1&2

Draw your own conclusions.

A blessed life

True,

I broke a commandment or two,

but I shall not plead for society’s pardon,

or God’s.

When I disobeyed

I tasted bliss.

Indeed

I count myself blessed

not for the fame

or fortune

but for those wanton hours

of pure abandon…

- Kamala Das

Debunking Myths

2006-06-25T23:45:00.000-07:00

As I sit here listening to my peers learn in class I figure that I can start debunking some popular myths about homosexuality for the ISB community at large.

1) Gay people don’t automatically know every other gay person in the world. Just because I’m gay, don’t expect me to speculate about others’ sexuality.

2) Homosexuality cannot be acquired or learned or caught. Sexual attraction is a very complex process, and any attempt to use reductionism to simplify it is basically flawed. Some people figure out who they’re attracted to very early on in life. Others ‘experiment’ through their lifetimes. Limiting your sexual experience by labeling yourself as ‘gay’ or ‘straight’ or ‘vanilla’ is simply restricting yourself from the wonderful possibilities of lovemaking. If it seems right to go for it with a member of the same sex in a particular situation, it probably is.

Remember, your sexuality is inherent to YOU. If you think your environment, genes and peers are influencing your sexuality, you have the causality completely reversed. The only thing your environment and peers can do is to bring out inherent aspects of sexuality that are already there.

3) What the fuck is sexuality?

Sexuality is a total sensory experience, involving the whole mind and body--not just the genitals. Sexuality is about self expression. Human sexuality refers to the expression of sexual sensation and related emotional intimacy between human beings.

Most Importantly

4) Homosexuality is not contagious. This implies that just because X hangs out with gay person Y it does not mean that he is also gay. It also means that you can be my friend without significantly having to worry about your own sexual orientation being threatened. I don’t bite, and I don’t seduce unwitting straight men (I really do have better things to do with my time).

"The state has no place...

2006-06-24T04:24:00.000-07:00

in the bedrooms of the nation" said Pierre Trudeau once during a debate on homosexuality in the Canadian parliament.

I'd like to modify that a little bit

"The ISB community has no business in the bedrooms of its quads"

What do I mean? It's really quite simple - quit gossiping! The whole thing is starting to get out of hand with the speculation about people's sexuality and who's boning whom. I don't give a flying fuck whether people know I'm gay or not anymore. In fact, if anyone cared to ask, I'd probably reveal my entire sordid sexual history to him/her - names of partners, locations of encounters, even positions if you cared to know.

This post isn't about me. No one really gossips about me anymore (that happened and finished in Term 1). I'm more concerned about people gossiping about other members of the ISB Community. If you think the person sitting next to you may be gay, just ask!!

But that's just me. And it's me because I've been through a great deal of shit in my life because of my sexual orientation, and I quite simply refuse to take shit anymore. However, a lot of people still care whether or not the world at large is speculating about their sexuality.

A point to note here is that while it may be harmless gossip for a lot of people, homosexuality is still a criminal offence in this country. I know way too many families torn apart, lives driven to suicide and relationships soured because of inadvertent disclosures about someone's sexual orientation. So please, stop it.

Meri neend chura di

2006-06-20T23:56:00.000-07:00

In case you’re wondering, no, I’m not in love. I’m sleepless in Hyderabad, but not in love. Maybe a little bit in lust – but not in love.

Sleeplessness has mostly been caused by the insane workload at this school. Well ok, partying till 5 on Saturday has contributed a teeny little bit. However, I am averaging four hours every night, and the net effect of all this lost sleep is starting to compound. This translates into sluggishness, loss in concentration, weirdly mismatched accounts, tons of unwashed laundry and inability to communicate.

What, me fail English? That’s unpossible…

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** Current Music: The droning and deeply relaxing sounds of Prof J teaching me how to optimize my decisions

Snakes, scorpions and other creatures who bite

2006-06-18T04:13:00.000-07:00

Many have compared the ISB campus to an idyllic retreat – a place to unwind, spend a few days in relative relaxation and then move on to bigger and better things. Unfortunately that myth needs to be busted. Today I shall focus on the natural environment, later posts shall deal with the psychological environment.

Yes, the campus is undoubtedly beautiful. It is lush and the buildings harmoniously blend in with their environs. The local wildlife consists of a couple of friendly strays who hang around for favours, loads of peacocks and other bird species including a pair of nesting vultures. It also includes what you see in the picture – a nearly 6ft king cobra coiled around a window less than 50m from mine. It’s a beautiful animal when you see it up front, except it’s a cobra.

There have now been 5 confirmed snake sightings in my student village. Not to mention hundreds and hundreds of frogs, apparently when the rainy season is in full force, you cannot walk on the grass without squishing a frog or startling a snake. Then there are the scorpions that like to live in people’s loos. And every kind of creepy crawly bug you can think of. All to make this zoological garden most fascinating.

He-Man and the Masters of the Universe

2006-05-16T22:54:00.000-07:00

Maybe you guys weren’t as much in love with the He-Man cartoons as I was in the 1980s, but I fell off my chair laughing and reminiscing when I watched these.

He-Man does Techno

He-Man and his Man-at-Arms

and of course someone can say it more eloquently than I can:

Read the full article here.

By the Power of Grayskull!!
Rediscovering the heroic cartoon beefcake of my youth.
- Sam Anderson
Excerpt:

“The best part about rewatching He-Man, after the initial nostalgia-burst, was tracking the show's hilarious accidental homo-eroticism—an aspect I missed completely as a first-grader. In the ever-growing lineup of "outed" classic superheroes, He-Man might be the easiest target of all. It's almost too easy: Prince Adam, He-Man's alter ego, is a ripped Nordic pageboy with blinding teeth and sharply waxed eyebrows who spends lazy afternoons pampering his timid pet cat; he wears lavender stretch pants, furry purple Ugg boots, and a sleeveless pink blouse that clings like saran wrap to his pecs. To become He-Man, Adam harnesses what he calls "fabulous secret powers": His clothes fall off, his voice drops a full octave, his skin turns from vanilla to nut brown, his giant sword starts gushing energy, and he adopts a name so absurdly masculine it's redundant. Next, he typically runs around seizing space-wands with glowing knobs and fabulously straddling giant rockets. He hangs out with people called Fisto and Ram Man, and they all exchange wink-wink nudge-nudge dialogue: "I'd like to hear more about this hooded seed-man of yours!" "I feel the bony finger of Skeletor!" "Your assistance is required on Snake Mountain!" Once you start thinking along these lines, it's impossible to stop. (Clearly, others have had the same idea.) It's a prime example of how easily an extreme fantasy of masculinity can circle back to become its opposite.”

My friend V first posted a link to this article on a discussion group I subscribe to.

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** Current Music: Little Plastic Castle by Ani di Franco

Sugar Baby Love

2006-05-05T01:56:00.000-07:00

An incredibly moving little video, located here on salon.com

"...So when we saw this great new three-minute cartoon by Wilfred Brimo, set to The Rubettes' 1974 classic "Sugar Baby Love" and part of a French AIDS awareness campaign, we could only wonder: What if all safe-sex ads were this fun (and sensible, romantic and moving)?"

I really insist you check it out.

And he made another one in 2005 for non same-sex couples. That's located here. It's just as powerful.

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* Current Music: Certainly (Flipped it) by Erykah Badu

Getting Laid...

2006-04-30T21:32:00.000-07:00

Well, V. Boy did, so props to him for that.

Party time

2006-04-29T01:47:00.000-07:00

We seem to be doing the party thing waay too much at ISB. But then I guess that's what orientation week is for. I think the girl in the striped shirt, let's call her M, has figured out my, umm, tendencies towards men.

She keeps asking me which guys I think are hot. I'd say that's a pretty good sign that she knows, no?

So anyway, I did this drag performance at ISB talent night, and since then, all the girls have been complimenting me on my fabulous skills of observation on all the little things women do - something I translated well onto stage.

In case you're wondering, the role called for me to mime the role of a flirtatious girl who will go to any lengths to get exam answers out from the invigilator and other students. There was handkerchief dropping and all.

It's weird being a popular kid. I've never been popular before.

I hope I use my powers for good and not for evil.

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* Current Music: Eastern Awakening from Buddha Beats

It's difficult...

2006-04-29T01:33:00.000-07:00

to make friends with new people when you've got such great ones already. Especially if the new people are straight and not-so-interesting.

2006-04-28T03:32:00.000-07:00

A view of my 'Student Village' - a rather glorified way of saying dorm. I live in a quad, which is basically four bedrooms arranged around a living room and a kitchenette. It's superbly equipped, and very comfortable. Of course, my only frame of reference to compare is the dorms at McGill (about which the less said the better). The architecture is really brilliant - quite harmonious with the environment. I'll be posting more pictures, so watch this space. For clarity's sake, I didn't take this picture...

2006-04-28T03:25:00.000-07:00

So here’s my first official post from the campus of the Indian School of Business in Hyderabad. In case you haven’t been following the news on this blog, I had applied for an MBA program at the ISB last January, and I got in, and the rest is history.

Being in business school seems a little counter-intuitive to what I’ve maintained about myself since my days at McGill.

Quote: “If I ever do an MBA, please come shoot me.”

This past week, I was introspecting about my motives for coming here, and I couldn’t quite look beyond all the fluff I wrote in my application essays – so I came to the unfortunate conclusion that I decided to go back to school because I had nothing better to do. And once I reconciled myself to that, suddenly, being here doesn’t seem all that bad. And then I started asking around, it seems there are many other people here who feel the same way.

The scary ones are the ones who are terribly focussed on the killer consultant/investment banking jobs post MBA. They seem to know exactly what they want, and how to go about getting it. I’m just hoping that ISB helps me get some focus. I guess I’m looking at marketing and social business as areas that I want to focus on.

The class strength is 428. Of this, exactly 2 are non-Indian. The rest may be foreigners, (I think the international student body is around 15%) but they’re all of Indian stock. One out of every 5 students is a woman. That’s the highest percentage of any business school in the subcontinent.

2006-04-25T23:43:00.000-07:00

First party at ISB. It was raining heavily and we were soaked but really having a great time!

My count goes up

2006-04-12T02:23:00.000-07:00

I think you, my three loyal readers, now have company. From the looks of it, I may now have SIX loyal readers. I'm so excited. I just can't hide it. I'm about to lose control, and I like it.

Rural Assam shows us where it's at

2006-04-11T10:26:00.000-07:00

This article was in the Hindustan Times this morning.

'WINDS OF CHANGE - Assam village votes for lesbian rights'

WHEN 'MAINSTREAM' India burnt over Deepa Mehta's Fire, a nondescript tribal village near the IndoBhutan border in Kokrajhar East constituency displayed unusual tolerance in accepting a lesbian couple - Thingring and Roinathy Basumatary.

Half a decade later, Bodo tribal residents of Simlaguri village have made a plea that whoever wins should ensure legal status for Thingring and Roinathy. Sitting MLA Pramila Rani Brahma of the Bodoland Peoples Progressive Front (BPPF-Hagrama faction) and rival independent candidate Rabi Ram Narzary, head of the rival BPPF Rabiram faction, must have been taken by surprise at the voters' demand.

"We have gone through a lot since we fell in love with each other 15 years ago, eloping from home to get married in a temple to escape the wrath of our respective family members," said Roinathy, the 'man' of the house. "We want our MLA to ensure legal status to our marriage." Simlaguri residents have come to like the couple so much that they don't want them to run from the law. "We shall vote for a change of attitude at the political level," said Thingring.

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*Current Music: Je Joue De La Guitare by Jean Leloup

Am I chopped liver?

2006-04-10T10:58:00.000-07:00

Seriously, I may have put on a little weight recently, and yes, I do have quite a lot of body hair, but am I chopped liver? Why am I still single? Maybe the pool of men to choose from is just extremely limited.

Actually, you know what? It's not me, it's everybody else.

Here's a random sampling of some of the messages I've gotten over the past two days (I kid you not, TWO DAYS!) on this internet gay thingy I'm on:

Specimen A:

"hi dear sanjay here im 26 5.11ht 32wst 75wght fair checkout my pro for more of me" (your pro tennis player? your pro-fit jock strap? your profit statement? your process flow? Help me out here man!)

Specimen B:

"hi....wanna BOINK???" (ummm NO!)

Specimen C:

"I Am Simply A Man With My Own Weakness, With No Effort To Change Myself, If You Accept Me, Thanks a Million.
I Got Not A Yahoo Messanger, Please Ask Not For it, And Read The Profile Before Hand (before the hand job?) So That You Sound Not Eccentric Before Me. Thank You
I'm 171cm Tall, 135Ibs And A Funny Man. (you certainly are, my friend...you certainly are)

If You Wanna To Know More About Me Please Get In Touch With Me On My MsN. And Ye' One Night Stunner I'm Allergic To You. (So if I'm stunning EVERY night, does that mean you won't need that anti-histamine?)

Gracias Senor" (I have two words. Shift Key: Off! Now! - oh and what's with the Spanish?)

Specimen D:

"hello h r u can we just frndsss" (I would, if I knew what the FUCK you were saying)

And the pièce de resistance - Specimen E:

"hi ..this is abhi.. nice meeting u.. (we haven't met you freak!)
mayiknow ur good name? (no you may not)
im 23 old..working for MNC..(ooh, I'm impressed - I can almost see him in the Roop Amrit infomercial. "Roop Amrit made me fair, and now I am gotting job in MNC")
i m, 5.9/very fair/cute looking...(yeah, let's not be the judge of that)
would appreciateur interest if u would give ur interests n preferences...
any number to reach u dear//
which part of the city u stay in?
abhi"

I can keep going ALL night with these, somebody stop me! Thanks to http://therewasthisman.blogspot.com for the inspiration... (V. Boy, you know who you are)

So if you think you're capable of coherence beyond these messages, and would like to date me, then you know where to find me.

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* Current Music: Sampooran by Mekal Hassan Band

Aaah, the moral police...so reassuring

2006-04-09T11:26:00.000-07:00

I use the word moral police literally. Mumbai fashion week was last week, and there were a couple of rather unfortunate wardrobe malfunctions involving items of clothing falling off and/or ripping to reveal the undernourished tits and ass below the crappily manufactured clothing.

Bombay's finest smelled a conspiracy to poison our youth and make them think lascivious thoughts. Just for a second ignore the facts that:

a) most people at the fashion show were either buyers, high-profile gay men or already quite sexually permissive - either way, a 3 second glimpse of Carol Gracias' boobs makes no difference to them.

b) most young people in India are far more sexually sophisticated than the narrow-minded moral freaks are willing to admit.

However, what best encapsulates how ridiculous the whole scenario is, is a story on the front page of this morning's Hindustan Times.

No Peep Show: Fashion police to screen shows

...the city police have decided to give licences for such events only if the organizers meet a host of conditions.

The aim: to avoid a repeat of the peep show that left the city's self-appointed moralists seething. "The clothes should remain firmly on, they shouldn't fall off," {say what?!} said the Deputy Commissioner of Police.

It gets more Orwellian

...The DCP said instructions were also given asking the organizers to ensure that "things that are not allowed should not happen."

2006-04-09T11:13:00.000-07:00

An image of the now infamous wardrobe malfunction (I SO hate that hackneyed phrase) at the recently concluded Lakme Fashion Week in Bombay.

2006-04-08T02:04:00.000-07:00

High Society Ladies sunning themselves on a bench in Montreal!

Umm, what happened to Ali?

2006-03-31T05:10:00.000-08:00

In case you (yes, you, my three loyal readers) haven't noticed yet, if you look near the picture of Spongebob on the right, you will notice that my name has been replaced by the word 'Fanaa.'

"Who be this fanaa? And what happened to the Ali we all love and know?"

Fanaa is a Persian/Urdu word that is commonly used in Sufi poetry. I love the sound of the word, and what it stands for.

faná': annihilation; passing away. The way-station in which the changing spiritual and psychological states of the voyagers disappear and their abiding stations come to naught, until that which has never existed (illusion) perishes, and that which has always been abides and remains. It does not mean the nullification of the conscience of the human, or the obliteration of the essence itself, nor the effacement of the Sufi's attributes. Nor does it mean that all things become one thing so that obedience becomes like disobedience, or what Allah commands becomes like what He forbids. Disobedience passes away and obedience abides.

In a nutshell, fanaa is the verb used to describe the end of illusion and the journey into the true. It is also my general internet name on various websites.

"Ok, we get it, you freak! But why call yourself that on your blog?"

Two rather creepy things happened to me last week. These got me thinking about my online identity in general.

First, I received a random e-mail from someone I once met in the frozen food aisle at Trader Joe's in Boston. I had given him my name, and he was resourceful (some may say stalker) enough to google me and to find me and my email address. This is something I have no control over, I am on google, and people will always be able to find me if they look hard enough. What I hope to do is minimize how easy it is.

Second, (and this one is creepiest) After four years of complete silence and relative obscurity from the credit bureau type people in Canada, I received a MasterCard statement for a card I had up to 2001 in Montreal - a card I never cancelled. How the fuck did they find my address in Bombay? HOW?
The upshot is that I don't actually owe them money - I have a credit of 24 cents on the card. Phew! However, it's the principle of the thing that is SO scary and bizarre.

Existential question of the day:
Unless he changes his identity, is it possible for someone who has lived in the Developed World to really, truly disappear?

Fabulous Response

2006-03-27T21:28:00.000-08:00

On Wednesday, March 1, 2006, in Annapolis, Maryland at a hearing on the proposed constitutional Amendment to prohibit gay marriage, Jamie Raskin, professor of law at American University, was requested to testify.

At the end of his testimony, Republican Senator Nancy Jacobs said: "Mr. Raskin, my Bible says marriage is only between a man and a woman. What do you have to say about that?"

Raskin replied: "Senator, when you took your oath of office, you placed your hand on the Bible and swore to uphold the Constitution. You did not place your hand on the Constitution and swear to uphold the Bible."

The room erupted into applause.

Vashi Boy

2006-03-20T04:27:00.000-08:00

So apparently Vashi Boy doesn't like his moniker on my blog. What shall we call him? He'd much rather prefer not using his location (downmarket, that it is) to qualify him.

I'm taking suggestions...

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* Current Music: Last Kiss by Pearl Jam

2006-03-18T02:33:00.000-08:00

Isn't it fascinating how a building that was considered an eyesore and the worst travesty against good taste can now be one of the glorious shining examples of modern architecture.

Brokeback Tears

2006-03-17T10:47:00.000-08:00

Have you ever seen someone cry? There are basically two types of non-melodramatic crying. The first is the pretty cry. This consists of dignified sobs, maybe a lace hanky reaching up to gingerly wipe a tear away, and a little muffled sniffling. The second is the ugly cry. This is the one with the dry heaving, the snot running, tears streaking down face, runny mascara producing halloween eyes and strange noises from the throat.

All I have to say is that this is only the second movie in my entire adult life that has got me to the ugly cry.

(Vashi Boy, in case you're wondering, Regal was the pretty cry)

P.S. The first time was during Romeo & Juliet with Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes. And I only did the ugly cry when the gloriously camp Mercutio died, not at the end, and only because I felt he could have loved Romeo more than that usurper/harpy Juliet. I was also 18.

Brokeback Mountain

2006-03-17T10:42:00.000-08:00

Saw it on the big screen finally. Had seen it before (clearly, you know I can't wait for these things) when I downloaded a DVD rip of it.

I love the film. And like someone said, "do you remember A Beautiful Mind or Shakespeare in Love the way you'll remember Brokeback five years from now?"

So what if Crash won Best Picture. It probably deserved it looking solely at the filmaking merits and the general politics of Hollywood - but Brokeback will linger, the way the film's haunting score stays with you.

Now, about my reactions to the film:

I had read Annie Proulx's short story a couple of times last year, first when I heard it was being adapted for the screen and the second time when the movie opened to huge critical acclaim. It's a beautiful story - very subtle and graphic at the same time. What the film adaptation does very well is to fill in the broad contours of the story without mucking with it. It colours within the lines so to speak. This is unlike another recent film also adapted from a short story, India's entry at the Academy Awards, which took a lovely story and added entire sub-plots and wholly irrelevant characters and unduly lengthened what could have been a tightly edited, colourful two-hour movie.

The sex scenes are there, pretty much as Proulx describes them - they haven't been made more explicit, and I didn't feel like the filmmakers self-censored too much.

Can I just say, those two boys are HOT! Break me off a piece of that!

Also, the two main women in the movie are brilliant, both having been recent teen queens (one's from Dawson's Creek, the other from the Disney factory) who have clearly grown up. Britney Spears at 25 should learn some lessons from them.

For those of you who haven't read the story, or are blinkered enough to not have seen the film, I'm not going to give away anything about the plot except for saying it's a tragic love story. You know the drill, boy meets boy, society doesn't sanction boy on boy action, and stories are woven as a result.

The setting of the movie is such a visual treat, alternating between the Rocky Mountains and the Great Plains. The cameraman has little more to do than point the camera at the scenery and he's a shoo-in for best cinematography. The film is very languid, the camera lingers, sequences get dreamy, even the characters' accents seem more drawn out. The net result is an almost complete lack of pitched drama, which is wonderful. Lee spends a lot of time establishing the mood of a scene before getting to the action, much like how Proulx has written the story.

How did I feel? - I LOVED the movie. Halfway through, I sort of decided that it was dragging a bit and it wasn't all that great. Then it got to the end...

I'm Brown

2006-03-15T08:09:00.000-08:00

eeew

Did another quiz, and it told me my true colour was Brown.

eeew

Brown

You're brown, a credible, stable color that's reminiscent of fine wood, rich leather, and wistful melancholy. Most likely, you're a logical, practical person ruled more by your head than your heart. With your inquisitive mind and insatiable curiosity, you're probably a great problem solver. And you always gather all of the facts before coming to a timely, informed decision. Easily intrigued, you're constantly finding new ways to challenge your mind, whether it's by reading the newspaper, playing a trivia game, or composing a piece of music. Brown is an impartial, neutral color, which means you tend to see the difference between fact and opinion easily and are open to many points of view. Trustworthy and steady, you really are a brown at heart.

My personality - apparently!

2006-03-10T10:31:00.000-08:00

I'm a sucker for Cosmo quizzes, so when my sister forwarded me this link, I just HAD to do this brilliant online personality test at www.personaldna.com

Evidently I'm a 'Benevolent Leader'

If you, my three readers, end up taking the test, then why not post your results as a comment to this post.

Below is my unique personality colour mosaic - If you mouse over each colour, then you'll see the results of my personality.

For example, the magenta swatch says that I have Very High Empathy, the dark blue swatch says that I have Average Masculinity...

go figure out that one for yourselves.

Benevolent Leader

If you want to read my full results i.e. what makes me a Benevolent Leader - they're quite accurate!
Click here

And if you think you know me and want to answer questions to give me an external, unbiased assessment of my personality, then click here to assess me.

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*Current Music: Freddie Freeloader by Miles Davis

India Rising?

2006-03-07T22:33:00.000-08:00

Fareed Zakaria writing in Newsweek. One of the more balanced and nuanced pieces about modern India that I've read in a while. Some of the things he says are problematic, but overall, quite well written.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11571348/site/newsweek/

Driving

2006-03-06T22:32:00.000-08:00

So I finally went to driving school and got myself a driver's licence. Big deal, you say. Yes it is, it's a HUGE deal considering that I spent my life up to the age of 27 dillydallying about driving and waxing poetic about the wonderful benefits of public transportation.
I still believe in the benefits of public transportation, but the mobility afforded me by a car is wonderful. It's like a whole new world opened up for me.
Of course, Bombay isn't exactly the most conducive of places to drive - the traffic is monstrous, besides, it has a beautifully functional transit system. Still, I love driving - I find the whole act of driving hugely hypnotic - the radio's blaring, I'm honking, reaching for the half-eaten candy bar on the passenger seat - no time to think about all my worries and cares.
I drive my dad's 1990 Maruti 800, a car that has seen better days. The air-conditioning doesn't work, it has poor brakes, it's dented and scratched (mostly by my sophomoric driving).
My commute is only four kilometers one-way (that's about 2.5 miles for you non-metric cretins) - certainly not like the mammoth inter-state journey that a certain someone does from Philly to New Jersey everyday.

More to follow tomorrow on overt changes in my personality and habits as a result of driving.

*Current Music: Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen

2006-03-03T06:26:00.000-08:00

In honour of the beginning of Lent, here's a picture from the candle room of the St. Joseph's Oratory in Montreal. This is one of my favourite spiritual places in the city. It has an incredible aura about it.

I got in...

2006-03-02T04:28:00.000-08:00

to Business School!

For the uninitiated, I had taken the GMAT in October 2005, scored 780 on it, and just this week got my acceptance letter from the Indian School of Business in Hyderabad.

I'm really thrilled about going back to school. It's going to be fabulous!

Office Romance

2006-02-28T22:56:00.000-08:00

I have a crush on someone in my office. For co-workers that may be reading this, stop speculating on who it is and get back to work.

This is becoming highly inconvenient. I spend too much time staring into space imagining trysts in the loo. In fact, I stare too much period. He's cute, but not even my type. How do these things happen to me?

Before you start getting ideas, I'm not in love. Just in lust. One shag will probably cure the crush - I see no future with him.

Our conversations are generally monosyllabic and work-related.

He MUST have noticed me staring at his crotch. He smiles at me all the time, maybe it's a come-on? This one time, he even winked at me. That must mean something, no? Yesterday, he casually touched my shoulder when we were discussing something. And once, when we were sitting next to each other, his thigh was touching mine. Come on, don't you SEE the signs. He wants me. He needs me. I must satisfy his desires. I'm only doing this to be nice to him, don't want to disappoint him and all.

:-)

I love my rose-tinted glasses.

Curling (the sport, not the hair)

2006-02-26T20:28:00.000-08:00

I get a perverse satisfaction from watching curling on TV now that I'm in India. When I was in Montreal, I always had a perceptible groan everytime the CBC rescheduled the Simpsons and the National when there was curling on. In fact, I never quite understood the sport and frankly couldn't figure out why it even WAS a sport. It's so bizarre that in large parts of Canada, manly men will congregate in sundry sports bars for beer & curling sessions...
After the recent winter Olympics, I must confess that I understand the rules, and enjoy watching it for purely nostalgic reasons.

http://www.curlingbasics.com/

I shall also sheepishly admit that I have a rather schoolboyish crush on Brad Gushue (the skip of the gold medal winning team from Canada). Ok, I think he's hot - enough already!

My Outsourced Life - Esquire Magazine

2006-02-23T21:45:00.000-08:00

The link to the article below is quite old, some of you may have already read it, but for those of you who haven't, here's a little primer.

I had heard about this piece last year, and filed it away as something I should look up. Clearly, I never did until today. However, if I had a Honey of my own, I'm sure she would have done it for me (will make sense after reading the piece, I promise!).

The article is also telling about India's knowledge economy in a sort of creepy way. For those of you who have never worked in BPO, it is a vast, limitless ocean of possibilities. Get your entrepreneurial hats on, some access to capital and start making money!

You should also know that after the article appeared in Esquire, Honey became a bit of a minor celebrity in America. She was flown to New York and interviewed on a segment of Good Morning America.

They are now in the process of planning a medium-budget Hollywood movie on this story, and have thought about casting Ms. Sherawat in the role of Honey.

Enjoy!

- Ali

http://www.smartmoney.com/esquire/index.cfm?Story=20050909-outsource

My Shopping List

2006-02-18T09:46:00.000-08:00

See yesterday's post:

Funny how this mirrors my progression as a cook from

Instant noodles to

Kraft Mac & Cheese to

frozen fish fingers to

pasta with sauce from a jar to

my mother's curry recipes to

quiche with store bought crust (I finally came out) to

elaborate Asian meals to

Foccacia from scratch...

My drinking habits from

5 year old beer found in a locked room in the basement of my dorm and Baby Duck wine (YES! it exists!) to

Mass produced Molson Dry beer and White Zinfandel wine to

Artisanal beer at my local brew-pub and New World wine (came out) to

Vodka - Cran and Old World wine to

Cosmopolitans to

Martinis and Scotch to

Kingfisher, Gin & Tonic and Sula (guess what? I came back to India!)

And my dressing habits from

Winter jacket over pajamas to

jeans and t-shirt to

jeans and shirt (came out) to

jeans and shirt with accessories to

dabbling with sequins and feathers to

ethnic chic to

Paul Smith...

And my lube usage from

Soap for general masturbation in shower to

KY (came out) to

Astroglide

Don't think I'll ever graduate to Crisco - yeesh!

Brokeback Mountain Shopping List

2006-02-17T09:20:00.000-08:00

From:
http://www.uffish.com/2006/02/brokeback_mountain_shopping_li.html

Weekly Grocery Lists for Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist,
Summer 1962

WEEK ONE
Beans
Bacon
Coffee
Whiskey

WEEK TWO
Beans
Ham
Coffee
Whiskey

WEEK THREE
Beans
Bacon
Coffee
Whiskey
K-Y

WEEK FOUR
Beans
Pancetta
Coffee (espresso grind)
Whiskey
2 tubes K-Y

WEEK FIVE
Fresh fava beans
Jasmine rice
Prosciutto, approx. 8 ounces, thinly sliced
Medallions of veal
Porcini mushrooms
1/2 pint of heavy whipping cream
1 Cub Scout uniform, size 42 long
5-6 bottles good Chardonnay
1 large bottle Astroglide

WEEK SIX
Yukon Gold potatoes
Heavy whipping cream
Asparagus (very thin)
Eggs
Lemons
Gruyere cheese (well aged)
Walnuts
Arugula
Butter
Olive oil
Balsamic vinegar
6 yards white silk organdy
6 yards pale ivory taffeta
Case of Chardonnay
Large tin Crisco

The only gay in the village

2006-02-16T09:54:00.000-08:00

Introducing Daffyd, a character in a BBC comedy called Little Britain.

(Turn down the computer speakers if you're at work, otherwise enjoy)
http://www.philipcrammond.com/david/

I seriously fell off my chair laughing. You have to get irony to see the humor in this, and when you do, you will wet yourself.

"I am the ONLY gay in this village, and that's that!"

Official Show site:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/littlebritain/characters/daffyd.shtml

2006-02-13T10:20:00.000-08:00

Office Party Antics

Where have all the readers gone?

2006-01-18T04:07:00.000-08:00

Actually, let me answer that question myself. The readers ran away because I stopped posting. I checked the online traffic to my blog, and it's dropped off from a high of around eighty hits a day in late November to under two. I suck because I stopped posting.

What's changed since mid-November and now is that I've got a job. Why should this matter when all it takes is a couple of minutes to post? Sit back and let me explain:

Experts say that it takes about 21 continuous attempts at doing something before it becomes a habit. This may explain why your gym membership goes to shit after you go to the gym for about ten days and then stop going for a couple.

You have to give yourself about a month of forcing yourself to do something before you accustom your mind to habitually wanting it. The same goes for me. While I was sitting unemployed, I created a routine and a habit of posting to my blog at around eight every evening.

Then my job happened, and I had a new routine to deal with. I now only get home at around eight p.m. - therefore, I now have to train myself for another 21 days to create a new habit of blog posting.

Today is attempt no 1 - wish me luck.

Co-incidence? I think not!

2005-12-28T10:02:00.000-08:00

Ever heard of a tortilla, a shroud or a grilled cheese sandwich bearing an uncanny likeness to Jesus? Sure you have.

Well, this Pierre et Gilles image of Jesus discovered by my friend Amit bears an uncanny likeness to me. Creepy, no?

*
Current Music: Ho Ram Raiya by Amit Chatterjee singing Kabir's poetry.

Take a Minute

2005-12-25T23:20:00.000-08:00

Dear Readers

Please spend a few minutes today remembering the victims of the tsunami disaster. Sri Lanka features prominently in my thoughts this morning, and as I sit at my desk in my air-conditioned office typing this, I can't help but recreate the scenes of death and destruction rained down upon last year.
Have things changed? Only time will tell. Until then, we send out all our positive vibes in the direction of the survivors. I wish I could be back in Lanka, on the beach, holding hands with the people who lived that horrible day.

Quote of the Day

2005-12-14T01:49:00.000-08:00

Prizes and Top 10 lists are cheap forms of mass therapy, reducing the stress of selection.
Consider them cultural Prozac.

- J Peder Zane, Triangle.com

New Job

2005-12-14T01:45:00.000-08:00

I've taken a long enough hiatus from posting, given that I was settling into my new job. Now may be a good time to introduce readers to the glories of employment keeping in mind that my employer and co-workers will also be reading. Therefore, glowing recommendations are in order.

What am I doing?
It was time for another industry switch, and I've decided to jump into advertising from corporate training. The BIG adjustment I've had to make, of course, is that advertising as an industry pays far far less than my previous job. I make in one month now what I did in about three days of freelance corporate training. But then again, I'm beginning more or less at the bottom of the heap (think of me as a glorified intern) and I have a lot to learn from this new job.

Where am I working?
I work for RMG Connect, which is the direct marketing arm of JWT, the world's largest ad agency. I'm sure you're thinking, direct marketing = spam = telemarketing and you'd be right, but only to an extent. We don't do that. At least not in the illegitimate way you're thinking. We specialise in BTL (below-the-line) marketing, which is essentially marketing activity that's NOT the 'sexy' kind i.e. TV, print, radio and hoardings.
BTL marketing includes contests, promotions, events, stunts etc. I'm currently working on a promo for a gas company that awards winners with a trip for two to Australia.
I love my work (so far). I really like my co-workers, and I think they like me. The office is cool, very un-corporate. Will keep you posted on the details.

What do I do?
Client Servicing (get your minds out of the gutter and figure it out yourselves!)

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Current Music: A cacophony of ringing phones and talk over cubicle walls.

New Job

2005-12-06T11:18:00.000-08:00

That's right, I have one. And no, it's not at the Canadian Consulate. I'm exhausted, so details to follow on Thursday (going to a wedding tomorrow night)

Current Music: Just Like a Woman by Nina Simone

My day at the races (Part 1)

2005-12-05T09:20:00.000-08:00

My father's horse (he owns 15% of it) in the lead at the races yesterday. The horse eventually came 6th in this race, his first. He tired four hundred metres from the finish.
Next time we'll race him in a shorter distance category.

*
Current Music: So Cruel by U2

Hillside

2005-12-02T08:35:00.000-08:00

Munnar, Kerala. A sanctuary for the endangered Nilgiri Tahr. An enchanting hillside on a cloudy afternoon.

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Current Music: Fuel by Ani di Franco

Ass Backwards or Backwards Ass

2005-12-01T08:30:00.000-08:00

My friend SR sent me a link to this site. Look at it for a (not-so) inspiring summary of Georgie's policy on Iraq.

The President's Evolving Vision

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Current Music: Will O' The Wisp by Miles Davis

Canadian Test

2005-12-01T08:08:00.000-08:00

I have spent the last couple of weeks furiously applying for a job at whichever place wants to take me on. One of the positions I applied for was to be the Office Manager at the Canadian Consulate General in Mumbai. The job description is posted online here: Comp. Notice 194 - Office Manager

I figured that I was vaguely qualified for it, and even though the job would probably be soul sucking admin work, I should go ahead and apply for it. Evidently they liked my application because I was shortlisted for the position.
I must digress here to state that all the HR tests I've ever taken in India have been multiple choice tests that were either psychometric or tested some basic computer abilities. These tests are also usually administered in some dingy HR office.
The Canadian HR test was held in a swanky banquet room on the 21st floor of a swanky five-star hotel (The Oberoi) in Bombay with a stellar view of the skyline and Back Bay. Inspiring to say the least.
This test consisted of 6 long essay questions to be answered in two hours. And hard is an understatement, especially because I was expecting a multiple choice psychometric test. Felt like exam season at McGill for Pete's sake!

Sample:

Question 1: Imagine that the Canadian Finance Minister is visiting Bombay between Feb 1 and 5, 2006. Please list in point form what steps you would take as Office Manager to arrange the logistics of his/her trip.

Question 2: We will soon be shifting to a larger premises. Knowing that you are in charge of financial, budgeting, personnel, admin, telecom and IT, please list in point form all the steps you would take to facilitate the move.

What the fuck?!! Anyway, will let you know if I passed this seemingly ridiculous test.

*
Current Music: Lasidan by Ry Cooder & Ali Farka Toure

Taste and consumer buying

2005-11-30T08:20:00.000-08:00

Chetan Bhagat's awful 'bestseller' book costs Rs.95, a third of the price of most English novels that are published in India. It is a runaway success.
This started me thinking about taste. I understand that some people like oysters and others like snails, but the point remains that when something achieves mass popularity it is usually because the product/service has got an impressive boost from featuring in the cultural ether and then people's considerations for buying get muddled. You can't honestly say that you bought the iPod simply because you preferred it, or liked it...
Keeping this in mind, is the taste of middle India shaped simply by what is available in an affordable price range?
Don't dismiss the question, it's intriguing when you consider the Made in China moulded plastic monstrosities that pass for household goods in our markets. And then think about Target in the States and its fabulous approach to affordable design...if people are given free choice within the same price band, then taste will start asserting itself.
I believe that taste is dictated by price and availability. The consumer is a puppet and the market is therefore hardly democratic. Taste is manufactured - except in India we don't have shady, secretive mega-corporations to blame. The process of consumer manipulation happens anyway, in a very amorphous and anarchic way. The goal of any market is to hoodwink the customer into buying what has been manufactured or created already - and I think my argument follows from that.

Everytime I walk through a market and proclaim with a huge sigh "Who buys this shit?" - someone replies "Everyone does, because it's cheap." I roll my eyes in return.

*
Current Music: Bobby Friction & Infinite Scale Remix by Bhangra Knights

2005-11-29T12:04:00.000-08:00

The entrance foyer of the fabulous Anokhi Museum of Hand Block Printing in Jaipur set up by my friend Pramod. It's amazing and I highly recommend it for anyone visiting that city.

*
Current Music: Mothern Popcorn by James Brown

My review of one night @ the call center

2005-11-28T09:54:00.001-08:00

This book is what you get when you take a handful of one-dimensional characters, tie them up in some stereotypical plot twists, connect the dots with amateur language and then throw in some pop metaphysics for good measure.

The entire story takes place during the “one night” of the title, and revolves around the personal dilemmas of six members of a workgroup in a Gurgaon call center. So we have the ‘macho but vulnerable’ boy from a broken home, the model wannabe suffering from casting couch guilt, the married girl with cheating husband, the uncleji kicked out by his son, the girl-next-door who is being emotionally blackmailed into marriage and the only character with some complexity, the narrator Shyam. As the night passes, their personal histories unravel until all find themselves in a (very predictable) life-threatening situation, at which point God calls them with sage words of wisdom. And since reality has apparently been suspended after the God call, our heroes then call millions of Americans with a terrorist threat and get away with it. A few pages of Oprah-esque soul searching later, the plot neatly wraps up.

Bhagat has wasted a wonderful opportunity to construct a story that gave readers an insight into the innards of the BPO industry. Instead, we get a cautionary moral tale populated by characters that would rival a ‘K’ serial. Even though the book may be accurate in its description of a call center, it never gets beyond banalities. And when the writing isn’t being trite, its tone is downright patronizing. Bhagat treats his readers as if they are like the imbecilic Americans in his book. So if you want simplistic, sweeping life lessons, read that e-mail you were forwarded or go take a personality development seminar instead. Populist appeal or not, bad writing is simply just that.

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Current Music: Certainly (Flipped It) by Erykah Badu

Chetan Bhagat and his night at the call center

2005-11-28T09:54:00.000-08:00

Here's a picture of the current golden boy of Indian fiction. His books Five Point Someone and One Night @ The Call Center are at numbers 1 and 2 on the bestseller lists. Attractive man, isn't he?
Bhagat's the poster child for over-achievement, having attended India's elite institutions, both the IIT and IIM. He works as a hot shot investment banker in Hong Kong. Unfortunately straight. And also a terrible, terrible writer.
It pains and shocks me when I think about how many Indians are reading the drivel he's written and thinking that it constitutes literature.
I saw someone reading One Night @ The Call Center on the train the other day and started talking to him. Turns out he thinks he's learned so much from the book and is proud of himself for turning literary. Let's just ignore the fact that the book is crap.
The only explanation I have for the phenomenal success of his books is that even though they're in English, they cost about a third of what other similar sized novels by Indian publishers would cost.
So if you're only spending Rs.95 but have the chance to shop at a fancy bookstore and see aspirational arty-farty dreams, then you will automatically go for it.

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Current Music: Everyone's gone to the moon by Nina Simone

Portrait of the Artist as a Bourgeois Woman

2005-11-27T09:27:00.000-08:00

Another work by Abir Karmakar. He is a young artist (gasp! only a year older than me) originally from Eastern India who studied art in Kolkata and at the Faculty of Fine Arts in Baroda. He had his first solo show at the gallery attached to the Max Mueller Bhavan in Bombay.

I happened to be walking by with my friends Gautam and Kapil and we literally just walked in expecting some more rubbish masquerading as contemporary Indian art. To say that we were all blown away is the understatement of the century. I finally understood what people meant when they said that art is supposed to affect you - leading to a series of emotional reactions distinct from the obvious "wow!" I really felt like Karmakar's paintings held me captive - leading me into worlds not my own and forcing me to look at gender and class through a completely unique prism.

The paintings all place androgynous self-portraits of the artist as Westernised upper class women. Or at least his vision of Westernised upper class women. And he's pretty clear about the fact that he's never been privileged enough to ever experience these situations and is clearly recreating them from photographs. So then is he questioning the power plays of a globalized world? Are there undercurrents of Freudian sexuality? The artist says that his paintings are about "creating a world of virtual reality featuring his other self."

Whatever it is, it is brilliant. For the first time, I felt like I could just throw fiscal prudence to the wind and buy a painting. Unfortunately, everybody else who saw the show had the same idea - it sold out the very first evening. And no wonder, at under $1,000 for the smaller canvases, these paintings are a steal.

His technical expertise with the brush (oil on canvas) is phenomenal. As is the subject of the exhibit. The show was called from my photo album and you can see most of the works exhibited online at the website of the Gallery. Simply click on View Images.

Gallerie Mirchandani + Steinruecke

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Current Music: Nho Antone Escaderode by Cesaria Evora

Odalisque

2005-11-27T09:10:00.000-08:00

Admire this painting, by an Indian artist named Abir Karmakar. He is now one of my favourite contemporary artists and this is one of my favourite paintings. Background info and links in posting tomorrow. And in response to snide comment, no, I'm not still at the Board's office.

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Current Music: White Shadows by Coldplay

Prawns

2005-11-24T08:30:00.000-08:00

I usually don't carp about my cooking skills, but this afternoon I cooked some prawns and can I just say, they totally kicked ass. Abso-fucking-lutely delicious.
I marinated the shrimp in a mixture of egg, cornstarch, soya sauce, chili, ginger, vinegar and a dash of honey. Then I coated some of them with sesame seeds and some with coarse semolina and deep fried them. SO good. My invention.

Taking suggestions on what I should call this delicious dish.

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Current Music: Nightblindness by David Gray

Font Issues

2005-11-24T08:28:00.000-08:00

My post from yesterday entitled Attitudes to Bureaucracy: part deux is in an absurdly small font. I spent about half an hour trying to fix it, and then gave up. So if you need to use the zoom function in your browser in order to read it, my sincere apologies.

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Current Music: Chaiyya Chaiyya from Dil Se

2005-11-22T09:48:00.000-08:00

Women in Love. These two ladies in Sri Lanka have got it right. I only wish I someday have what they share.

Attitudes to Bureaucracy: part deux

2005-11-22T08:36:00.000-08:00

I did recover and make it through the Board's Offices, and what a revelation.

Anyway, once I realised that I was going to go and try to get a copy of my marksheet myself, sans bribe, of course. The first step was to go to my school/junior college and figure out if they had any gems of advice to give me. That was quite fruitless, and all I managed to squeeze out of the very unhelpful clerk was the address of the Board's office. This was enough to give me spasms that needed two cigarettes to calm down.
The Board is located in Vashi, popularly known as New Bombay - which is on the mainland, and implied an hour long ride on a suburban train. So, at one in the afternoon (the hottest time of the day) I got off the train at Vashi station clutching a small piece of paper that had the address on it.
Vashi itself was quite a revelation - far from being a sleepy suburb, it was bustling - and right next to the station is a big shopping mall that provided me with some airconditioned respite before venturing out to find this elusive office. I managed to get a good autorickshaw driver who took me straight to the Board's office. Now comes the tricky part.
I nervously went up to the window and told the man there that I had lost my marksheet. I fully expected to be scolded at losing such an important document and promptly sent on my way. Instead, he looked at me indifferently, asked for two rupees and handed me a form.
Fill out the form, go to another window, hand in the form with a processing fee of two hundred rupees and the bored woman tells me to collect the duplicate copy in a couple of days. That's it! No bribe, no rudeness, no running around, no inefficiency. Just a bit of indifference, but all bureaucrats have that.
The sum total of time I spent at the office was 15 minutes - and that included form filling time. So if you don't count the two hours I spent on the train getting there and back, it was an efficient trip.
I was so pleasantly surprised, that I did a bit of a straw poll on the train on my way back, and it turns out that most people's experiences with India's red tape has improved steadily over the past few years.
Signs of positive change??

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Current Music: Movies Of Myself by Rufus Wainwright

Attitudes to Bureaucracy

2005-11-17T09:48:00.000-08:00

Sorry peoples, something's wrong with Hello. I shan't be posting a picture today.

I am in the process of assembling an application to the Indian School of Business for their MBA program and in order for me to complete it, I need a copy of the marksheet I was given at the end of my 12th standard board examinations. I think it's a bit redundant because the exam was in 1996 for crying out loud - but rules are rules.

Scary stuff. In all past experience, dealing with the Maharashtra State Board of Secondary and Higher Secondary Education has been an exercise in frustrating futility. I was so terrified by the prospect of having to find the Board's offices, then going there and asking for a re-print of my marksheet that I briefly considered faking the marks on my application - but that would be wrong, wouldn't it?

My reaction is not unique. Ask any true blooded middle-class Indian about dealing with any government run bureaucracy and they will start quaking in their boots. Whether it's the driver's licence office, the ration card office, the passport office, the municipal tax guy, the local gas dealer or the university of bombay - rest assured that middle class Indians will either be afraid, checking their pockets for bribe money, or will be asking every possible source and contact to put in a good word for them.

Why am I qualifying it for middle class people especially? Well, it's because that's what I have the most experience with, and the rich have the cocky arrogance that comes from knowing that they could probably pay someone to get their work done.

So, now I had to get a duplicate marksheet. What was I to do? The knee-jerk reaction yesterday was that it would be faster and more efficient to have Julie at the McGill Registrar's Office in Montreal call in a favour at the Faculty of Science and have someone pull my student file, photocopy the transcript in there and mail it to me.

Then today, I decided to bite the bullet, since I'm unemployed and have loads of free time, and go to the Board's office myself.

Look out for Part II tomorrow...

2005-11-16T01:46:00.000-08:00

We all know about those wacky Chinese and their atheistic tendencies

2005-11-15T10:06:00.000-08:00

Who could that out of shape person doing a Bo Derek on Kovalam be?

It didn't work

2005-11-15T09:44:00.000-08:00

Ok, my little experiment was a dud. Sucks to be me.

Could this work?

2005-11-15T09:42:00.000-08:00

Don't mind me. I'm just posting under a pseudonym. Simply using my own blog as a guinea pig for something else I'm trying to do.
Ok, show's over. Back to your regular business.
Ta-ta

Yahoo! FareChase - Search multiple travel sites in one click.

2005-11-14T08:57:00.000-08:00

Passion fruit for the soul. See posting on tropical fruit from mid-June.

2005-11-13T09:58:00.000-08:00

Walking towards the Masjid al-Saqqara (also known as the Dome of the Rock) in Jerusalem. Beautiful at sunset.

2005-11-12T10:28:00.000-08:00

Spiral motif at the entrance to one of the shrines at the Elephanta Caves in Bombay. I love spirals...

2005-11-11T02:22:00.000-08:00

This is in honour of Andrea's impending visit to India. I'm SO looking forward to being the hostess with the mostest. My trip to Ottawa this summer, although only for one weekend, was truly memorable. And we miss the sun, don't we...

2005-11-09T05:34:00.000-08:00

Reflections cast outside the Rodin Museum in Philadelphia.

Bridget

2005-11-08T20:01:00.000-08:00

Is it just me, or have you noticed how many of these blogs sound like pathetic versions of Bridget Jones' Diary? Why do people insist on telling us what their friends are doing, and then refuse to name these friends, instead referring to them with single letter abbreviations?

Do I look like I care?

2005-11-08T02:53:00.000-08:00

Kathakali dancer in Kerala. Kathakali is a classical dance form that is used to tell stories from the great Hindu epics. Watching a Kathakali performance is to be transported into a magical world of gods and monsters. The costumes are elaborate and can take hours to put on.

2005-11-07T01:23:00.000-08:00

Propaganda for Shi'a Moulana Muqtada-al-Sadr pasted on the Imam Ali shrine in Najaf in Iraq. Note that this picture was taken in April 2004, when Al-Sadr was still in the doghouse with the American occupiers and was himself basically occupying the twin cities of Najaf and Kufa. He has since become a 'good' guy as the US fights Sunni insurgents around Baghdad.

Regularity?

2005-11-07T00:56:00.000-08:00

In case you got used to a daily fix of updates to this blog and then your fix was suddenly taken away from you this past weekend, all I have to say is: get on with it!

I was out of town this weekend, and therefore away from my computer and wonderful high-speed internet connection. Updates shall begin again.

In other news, a quick survey please: Do you feel that this blog is becoming little more than a glorified photo album?

2005-11-02T11:40:00.000-08:00

Defacement of heritage at the Amer Fort in Jaipur. People have scratched horrific and inconsequential graffiti into centuries old marble and limestone plaster. Truly a very disturbing sight. This is what happens when you have living heritage, I guess - but it still saddens me to see this.

Shameless Self Glorification

2005-11-01T19:36:00.000-08:00

It's my birthday today for another half hour. Yay!

I share my birthday with: Eminem, Wyclef Jean and Rita Hayworth.

addendum on November 2, 2005

I have just been informed by a vigilant reader that I also share my birthday with such weighty celebrities such as Arthur Miller and Montgomery Clift (he's so dreamy...look at pictures at Montgomery Clift ) both of whom were allegedly queer as well. How delightful.

And in case I confuse anybody, my birthday is actually on October 17th.

2005-11-01T00:15:00.000-08:00

The family and I (off to the left) posing in front of the Great Pyramid of Cheops. Why are we dressed this way? Because we were on a pilgrimage, silly. Not that ancient Egyptian sites could be a pilgrim destination for Muslim pilgrims from India (this was just a tourist excursion from the more serious business of praying). Notice the scale of the damn thing. Those blocks of stone are HUGE! Also notice my individual style of dressing and striking a pose as distinct from the other men in the picture...hee hee

2005-10-31T01:26:00.000-08:00

I love spirals. And this was my pathetic attempt at compositional photography using a low-res point and shoot digital camera. The spiral shell itself is beautiful, and I still have it somewhere...

2005-10-30T01:43:00.000-08:00

Just me, and a very empty beach in Sri Lanka. Don't you just love it!

2005-10-29T03:12:00.000-07:00

My sister and I being silly in Washington Square Park in New York City. By the way, did I mention how much I love New York..?

2005-10-27T21:43:00.000-07:00

Aaaah! The plateau! Montreal has an easy sensibility that is best encapsulated by this picture taken outside the Mont-Royal Metro. the best part, I headed straight to Barrouf for some mid-afternoon pints after taking this.

Friendster

2005-10-27T03:13:00.000-07:00

I may as well do a little but of promotional plugging here. Have you tried out Friendster yet? It's fun, and can get incredibly addictive.

You'll be amazed at the number of people you can find who share the same obscure interests as you - like this one person I found on Friendster who went to the same school and same college as me. He also happens to be gay and takes a keen interest in queer politics in India.

Even if you're not actively looking for people, it's nice to see how interconnected your network is. Also, friendster lets your friends introduce you to their friends, and you may just find a new lover or activity partner online.

Check it out at www.friendster.com

And use my gmail address if you're adding me as a friend. If you don't know my gmail address, then leave me a comment and I'll send it to you. I'm not about to post it on here as a gleaming trophy to be picked up by spammers' webcrawlers.

Happy networking.

2005-10-27T02:49:00.000-07:00

Sandstorm in the Iraqi desert. This was taken from a bus on an Iraqi desert highway going towards the Shia cities of Najaf and Karbala in May 2004. The sandstorm was truly biblical - blood-red sand blowing in from the deserts into a country already drenched with blood. We'd see the occassional rusting hulk of an armoured vehicle by the side of the road or a convoy of troops driving alongside. Mostly, we were just left alone. But whenever I saw US troops in Iraq (and mind you, I saw LOTS of them) the one question that would always be racing through my head would be: "He's hot, wonder if he wants to do the nasty?" - no really, the question actually was, "What's going through your head, kid?" - Because let's face it, they were all kids - hot kids - but kids.

2005-10-25T23:15:00.000-07:00

If you've ever been in an autorickshaw in this part of the world, then you know why this picture is so startling. Never have I ever seen Kafka quoted by an auto driver. This picture was taken by the side of a dock in Kottayam, Kerala while I was waiting for a water taxi to take me down the backwaters. The driver of this auto reads four newspapers a day and has a degree in philosophy. He wanted to be a writer, but makes more money ferrying people around.

2005-10-25T00:44:00.000-07:00

Frangipani blossoms make for fragrant hands.

I knew it!

2005-10-22T07:00:00.000-07:00

Sigh! The irony of it all is so delicious. A couple of hours after I make my proclamation of posting a picture everyday, I lose my internet connection.

It was out for two whole days. Can you believe?

2005-10-22T06:57:00.000-07:00

Scarlet O'Hara, eat your fucking heart out. Maria and I saying a tragic goodbye at my going away party in Sri Lanka. I've left places so many times that the "Ali Farewell" party has become a genre in itself, quite like birthdays and New Years.

Hole/Pole

2005-10-20T12:49:00.000-07:00

I went drinking tonight with my friends Kapil, Chapal and Sridevi and my new love interest/boyfriend/lover/sex slave Nigel.

We went to this very macho, testosterone filled pub called Toto's in Bandra - which is done up like an auto body shop on crack. Many drinks were had by all, at which point we were all introduced to a (straight) hairdresser named Yuvraj who is a friend of Nigel's.

Yuvraj proceeds to drunkenly tell all of us that he wished that India had more people "like us" because we really know how to have fun.

Actually, the most fun was getting him to be comfortable enough to say the 'g' word out loud. He ended the evening with this prescient drunken advice:

"If anybody comes up to you and tries to give you shit, all you have to say is, before I'm gay, before I'm Indian, before I'm a man, I am a human being. So whether it's a pole or a hole that gets me going, who gives a shit, I'm human all the same."

I nearly wept, wishing all men thought this way. Wouldn't the world be a much better place?

Indulge me

2005-10-20T05:02:00.000-07:00

Ladies, you will have to indulge me while I do this, since I've just discovered this great new toy that lets me put photos on my blog. I am absolutely fabulously rapturous about this. Now I have to figure out how to control the irresistible urge to put all my pictures from my trip to North America on the web. This I promise, that as long as I have breath and a laptop and a broadband connection and no job, I will post a new picture to my blog everyday. Please do enjoy.

2005-10-20T04:59:00.000-07:00

New York Fashion Week will never be the same after Ali invaded it in Bryant Park!

2005-10-20T02:14:00.000-07:00

I have just got broadband installed and my world just got rocking in ways you can't imagine.

2005-10-20T02:13:00.000-07:00

Freaky Eyes

Countries

2005-10-20T01:44:00.000-07:00

Given that this blog may just end up being the record of my life, I figure it's best to put this list on it right now.

I was thinking about connections in today's world after reading Pico Iyer's Global Soul. And then I got to thinking, what if I made a list of all the countries I have visited in my so short lifetime. This is not an attempt at bombast, I'm just curious for myself. I'm including countries where I've only seen the inside of airports as well in order to illustrate how even if you just travel between India and Canada every year, you will end up visiting many places in transit.

In fact, isn't the whole world becoming one of those 'in transit' moments?

Ok, so here goes, in some semblance of chronological order:

1. India
2. Nepal
3. France
4. Canada
5. Jordan
6. The Netherlands
7. The United States of America
8. The United Kingdom
9. The United Arab Emirates
10. Egypt
11. Syria
12. Iraq
13. Israel
14. Sri Lanka

After my most recent trip, and therefore most recent transfer through a European airport, let me now add number

15. Italy

So what's with the So?

2005-10-17T21:34:00.000-07:00

So I just noticed that far too many posts on here begin with the word 'SO'

Very disconcerting that my writing can't get any more imaginative.

New Music

2005-10-15T23:03:00.000-07:00

Kathryn introduced me to M.I.A. when I was visiting her in Ottawa.

Maybe it was the atmosphere, sitting in a backyard with the first hints of fall in the air, fairy lights twinkling all around, a view of the Peace Tower, people whom I love sitting around (stop me before I get any more misty eyed).

And then she put on M.I.A.'s album Arular. And I fell in love. So, I recommend all of you to get your hands on this CD. It's very political, quite angry, and makes for excellent listening and random pole dancing music.

My favourite line: "I salt and pepper my mango" - which the censors at MTV apparently thought implied something offensive. But in South Asia, we really do put salt and pepper and chilli on our mangoes.

Oh, and I rediscovered how much I love the funk of Herbie Hancock. The opening riffs of Watermelon Man are truly mind altering.

Also, I want to have Rufus Wainwright's babies.

How I learned to love New York

2005-10-13T20:43:00.000-07:00

Time Out Mumbai has a contest going on where people have to write in a travel story of 500 words in order to win a 3-day luxury vacation. I wrote the following and sent it in. We'll have to see if I win, although with the sappy American Beauty ending, I dunno if I will. All I needed was a plastic bag swirling around to complete the picture.

All things considered, this a slightly editorialized version of what really happened to me in New York on a Saturday night. It still seems a little hard to believe right now. The only major difference with the story is that I wasn't alone - my exceedingly horny friend Shehan was with me, and we did end up going to the underground, after-hours fetish club. We met the old lady as we were leaving the fetish place, talking very loudly about all the sex people were having in there.

So here's what made me love New York:

I arrived late at the West Side YMCA in New York as the sun set casting a bizarre amber glow over the city. Deciphering New York had proven to be more difficult than I had imagined. The YMCA was a great choice; it overlooks Central Park and provides guests with the remarkable New York cachet of staying on the Upper West Side. Besides, we all know about that Village People song

I was eager to begin my Ali channels Carrie Bradshaw weekend in New York, so I grabbed a 99¢ pizza slice and made my way to the subway, all the while admiring my fabulous new New York shoes.

The New York City transit system has got to be one of the most remarkable things in the world. The subway smells, its filthy, there are rats the size of dogs, its hot, its confusing, and the cars are noisy and creaky but its still the cheapest and best way to get around, 24 hrs a day. All similarities to Bombays local trains are co-incidental of course.

The subway disgorged me on 17^th St. and a short walk led me to Splash. The club was packed and full of incredibly good looking people, which immediately put my deflated self esteem on alert. My inner cynic was rolling his eyes while the tourist in me was in overdrive: between the pumping house music and staccato lights was the smell of (imagined) sex everywhere. Id feel elated one minute when a guy would shoot me a look across the dance floor and dejected the next as he locked lips with someone else.

I left the club alone, somewhere around four in the morning because they wouldnt give me a glass of water without charging me $5 for a bottle. Walking towards the subway, I was accosted by a man in a trench coat who wanted me to go to an underground after-hours fetish club, with the lure of free condoms and lube. By this point, my Sex and the City night in New York was quickly imploding and I was muttering obscenities while walking.

A rather large, rather old Hispanic lady in an institutional uniform (think cafeteria or hospital, maybe even the loony bin) turned around to look at me. I knew I was going to get a talking-to about the number of times I had uttered the f-word. Instead, she said, Isnt the moon really beautiful tonight. I replied that it indeed was. She proceeded to plop herself down, Maybe you would like to sit with me for a while and look at the moon?

I sat on a bus stop bench with her in complete silence at five in the morning and stared at the setting full moon. The city never stopped for us. Thin early morning traffic whizzed by, drunken revellers spilled out of the clubs and bars, hookers and their johns walked on, but time stood still. New York City had redeemed itself by showing me all the beauty it possessed all I had to do was believe. Both of us had the smug smile on our faces that comes from knowing an inside joke. I never asked her name, we simply nodded, and went our separate ways.