sincerely yours

In a busy office space filled with people rushing past each other to take a loo break, catch up with colleagues or just to show the world they can walk with their shoes clicking , a man with a small smile playing across his lips, was at his terminal doing his job. His name was Sincerity. This fellow was always found stooped, staring at his monitor, clicking away intermittently. He was there before time, much before time, as in, before clocks were invented. Next to his was Integrity’s cubicle. A man respected by all for his ability to precisely do those things that would be mentioned at the high places and with the right people.They used him as and when necessary. He was one of the few real friends of Sincerity. Both of them understood each other well and they complimented each other.
The laity was languid and laggard; they mocked these two, Sincerity in particular, to no end. But the two remained unperturbed and enjoyed each other's company. Both of them, unknown to each another, shared a deep love for Hope, the undeserving HOD's secretary. Hope looked as fresh as the morning dew.They could forget all the mundane problems before them in her beauty.Such was her charm that almost everyone had a crush on her at some point of time.

Sincerity and Integrity reported to Scarcity and Hierarchy.Scarcity, who was never found in his seat during a crisis, irked Integrity. He started hating the number of times he had to take the fall when something went wrong.He wrote many letters to Ambiguity, the quality manager.Nothing Happened. Driven to the edge, Integrity started contemplating a career change and even the thought of Hope refused to work the magic it used to. Sincerity, meanwhile, was fed up of Hierarchy and his many problems. Bureaucracy, Hierarchy’s good friend who kept hanging around without motive, didn't help matters. Sincerity,snubbed at every step, slowly moved away from any social interaction; the self assured  smile disappearing with his confidence. 

On a random Monday morning, Tawdry Tomfoolery (Only one in the organisation to have two names), the company’s pompous and under qualified HR decided he could do away with the rogue and recalcitrant Integrity. He relieved Integrity of his position the very same day and Integrity on his part was able to breathe easier; not being part of the dank organisation. At about the same time, Hope who was away on vacation, died in a train crash. There had been a signal malfunction and both the drivers wasted valuable time  comprehending the significance of the light at the end of the tunnel.
Sincerity having lost the love of his life and his good friend in quick succession was left stunned. He went into a shell. All his actions became mechanical and devoid of any vigour. He found companionship with Tardy, someone whom he had loathed in the past but had started admiring later for his twisted logic. With hope gone and tomfoolery pointlessly cackling away to Hierarchy’s jokes, Sincerity felt emotionally numb and the days trudged on somnolently. He understood that a replacement to Integrity was out of question.

The office atmosphere started choking him and he started hallucinating. He found himself talking to Hope, in long soliloquies. With Vacuity, a guy of amazing qualification and zero common sense replacing Geriatry as the HOD, the going got really tough for Sincerity. His mental condition deteriorated. Sometimes, he had conversations with his high-school sweetheart Merry, who had died young; a victim of some rare illness.
After some days or months or years for all Sincerity cared, sense prevailed over Vacuity. He decided he needed more men to tackle the mess. He made quick calls to the HR dept and pooled in a few resources from other offices. Few of the empty seats were filled with sycophancy, duplicity and redundancy. Still, the seat next to Sincerity remained empty (it had long stopped bothering him). He worked alone; from early in the morning to late in the night.

One fine day, things did change; a smiling face greeted him at his desk.

“Hello!”.

“Hi”.

 “I just joined today “.

”Oh! My name’s Sincerity”.

“Nice to meet you, I'm Profanity”.

“Fcuk!! Finally…where the hell have u been all this time… anyway, welcome to the family”

Redundancy looked up from his desk, "who's sincerity talking to today? the tone seems different".

the tele of thayir sadhams

Some time back, there was a rage about this tele called enge brahmanan in my community. As usual there were characters speaking in the most ridiculous tongue that they claimed, was very similar to the brahmin tamil .Still, I liked the spirit of this tele as the title verbalised my thoughts pretty accurately. In this world, it’s very difficult to place yourself based on dated practices and many a time people are confused as to what to and what not to drop from our vast traditional rituals.

It came as a surprise to me that this was being taken up at depth and analysed. But in due course I realised that it was very similar to other teles, heading towards the same dark, dank place in my heart. But this one was different in some ways. Its theme entailed even the kids to watch it as it was a ‘good thing’. “nalla vishayam naalu keta thappila” . The Brahmin group sessions had to touch upon this subject with such reverence that you forgot it was just another tele.In due course, it became a cult symbol; “naagalam rathiri aana enge bhramanan thavaradha pathuruvom”. The kids lapped it up because it gave them some respite from their mom’s constant glare. The viewing of this tele gave our class unparalleled pride and unfathomable punniyam (OK i just exaggerated a little there). Suddenly ''thangam" which occupied the minds of most mami janatha became cheap and tawdry; ramya started looking fat and the screenplay much more boring.

What was this phenomenon? What could possibly usurp the position held by a lady whose hot voice was so misplaced in her fat body that it was actually funny to watch her speak?  Well,structure wise, it’s very similar to the ramanujan serial aired a few years ago. The lead character goes around cracking everyone up in the process of finding the true Brahmin. He becomes more and more dazed and sleepy and his voice more husky as he gains valuable knowledge in this direction. comic relief was partly provided by the childish attempt at the ‘tambhram’ tongue and partly by the over inquisitive ‘doubt seeker’ (resembling an auto Walla) who kept asking questions after question like some bumper prize was waiting to be won.This guy also kept bobbing his head, much to the consternation of cho, who thought his head needed more air time.

As far as i'm concerned nothing good happened out of this laborious attempt in finding 'the true Brahmin'. All it did was give a fillip to the patronizing maamis who were already boasting about his son's zest in fulfilling the duties of a true brahmin.That her son did/performed/executed sandhyavandhanam daily and somehow that it was better than the other kid who knew only  his pariseshanam and abivadhaye and whose mom in turn claimed that he was still better than one who hasn’t got his poonal on yet .

In an average middle class home the sandhyavandhanam is did/performed/executed (whatever) after extensive negotiation, hard bargaining and veiled threats.The defeated boy generally ends up with a stainless steel ‘tumbler’ and spoon and a face that expresses all the sorrow in the world. So, while the kid goes about it with all the enthu of a rheumatic dog going for a walk, the maami’s spin stories on his son’s piety and faithfulness.
The irony is that people who follow the Vedas , who actually go to vedapatashalas and who have pony tails are still ridiculed and laughed at; sometimes by our own clan. They are lost in this world that finds no value for them. Hence some of them become the stereotypical money minded kurukkls,vadhiyars etc.Anyway, there was also a second edition to this; part deux .Poor lad, that had to go through the half asleep, wheezy voiced routine one more time. This time he had to include the dopey smile also as he was much more divine now,than in the previous edition. 

The Legend

 I spent about six months in IIT as a project associate. I was accompanied by my good friend vijay through these six months. This is a purely fictional account of our time at IIT . I'd also like to point out  here that it might be a little difficult to get some of these  puns if  you didn't know civil engg. or vijay. so here it goes....to the self proclaimed god of concrete... cheers!

The following, as the title suggests is about a great man who lived in the ancient times.In this narrative, the author has made an effort to clarify most of the conflicts as it comes. Explanations are available in  the glossary at the end. Any references to a certain character in the batch of 2006-10, civil engineering is purely intentional. Few snapshots have also been submitted as visual aids for the readers to understand the following  better.

Long long time ago(sic) there was a legendary man who went by the name of kumboy. No one knew his full name. No one dared to ask. He was one among the great thinkers of his time¹ and it was believed he had gone so deep into science and its applications that many of his peers and contemporaries mistook him to have acquired certain superpowers.  It was believed that many knotty problems unravelled itself in abject fear when it ‘passed’ his desk. the following is based on a small vignette scripted by my great great great granpa, who was one of his associates even before² Kumboy had become legendary. 

As with all documentaries, the story starts in a sleepy town where, a boy just turns 22. 

The boy decides he’s had enough of school life. They had stopped feeding his mind a long time ago and he had humoured his parents’ wish to continue his schooling only because he had a very bad sense of humour. "I want to go to faraway lands in search of greater wisdom or de-seeded dates, whichever I get my hands on first”³ he declared, to a stunned gathering.He set out the very next day in search of wisdom, giving away all his possessions to his brother and his ring to a tall guy with a white beard. He walked for a long long time⁴ through deserts, hills and rivers. In due course, He proved that the earth was round, twice⁵. Weary and mentally worn out , he was desperately craving for wisdom; the mere thought of a book’s touch sent shivers down his spine.

Kumboy was very very tired by the time he came across a motel. It had a great view and  many great  Arabian waitresses suitably dressed. Such a lovely place, such a lovely place⁶. As with all Arabian nights, this turned out to be just a dream.This is now explained by science as mirage. By that night  he was dejected and depressed with his futile search. On the next day, as he was about to give up and jump into a nearby puddle (about 1 foot deep) ,he saw a reflection of an institute that specialized in imparting greater wisdom⁷. Overjoyed, he went right inside and ordered a bloody mary for his parched tongue. Since he didn’t have any worldly knowledge, he didn’t realise that he had been given rose water⁸ that was neither bloody nor mary.

In this place, his knowledge grew by leaps and bounds. He played with sand, stones, rocks, wood, ball bat, etc. He was instrumental in the creation of a form of artificial sand, a special powder he named as Gondwanaland sand fumes.  In short he called it OPC⁹ which had nothing to do with the original name. He created cubes that were a mixture of this OPC and other rocks with water; which on drying were stronger than the constituent rocks. He broke them with a sledgehammer at public gatherings to showcase its strength.

 As with other geniuses, in time, he got bored of what he was doing. One night, gazing up at the stars, he found that the moon was not there. He wanted to find the place where it hid every 28 days so that he could stash away his tax money. That very night Kumboy decided he was going to go up there ,find the place and do some good to the society. There was one drawback though, He wasn’t confident of his knowledge about space.

The moon hunt wasn’t easy. Every time he tried to send shuttles into space he encountered problems. The sand in his hourglass got stuck near the neck whenever he tested the speed of his rockets¹⁰. As there was no PTA back then, he decided to send his donkey eeyore into space. A rover was also sent to aid its movement in space. As soon as it landed in space¹¹, eeyore found out that there was no gravity. Reminded of tigger, it started springing around taking snaps and sending it back to kumboy. Eventually it died from exhaustion and lack of oxygen didn’t help the matters either.

the rover discarded by eeyore
in space due to lack of mobility. 

After burying piglet in memory of eeyore, kumboy decided he better to go there himself. He needed a better rover and a launcher. He started experimenting and spent the next few days making random changes with his suit and his space vehicle. He designed and redesigned, constructed and demolished, built and...... ok, the point is  he worked hard and ended up doing nothing.


      

At this point in the story the author¹² is really bored of typing and is lost as to where the story has to proceed(hence the photos). He feels the story is stretching too long and this particular paragraph describing him in third person doesn’t really help the situation. So he decides to kill the character in a spectacular explosion during the launch. But the character he had just created comes back to bite him and he starts running away from it. To make peace,he comes up with this. As it is written in great hurry(while running) , the references and clarifications are stopped henceforth.

So, one fine day kumboy got bored of all his trials and tests and dropped the project(the readers were forewarned about the authors boredom;the abruptness is a result of that). He decided he better get legendary as time was running out. As he set out on his journey back home, he met a vagabond. Using his ‘acquired’ linguistic talents from his many travels, he asked him where he would get de-seeded dates(he didn't want to go back empty handed) in three different languages with a local accent (something like MGR’s  nimbalki de seeded perichampazham irukkan??) .Totally stumped by his question (three languages in the same line with a weird accent was a little difficult, plus he was also deaf) the vagabond gave him some grapefruit instead. Anyway, kumboy ate it, got enlightened, understood the difference between dates and grapefruit, found bloody mary to be better  than rose water  and continued his  journey home. By the time he reached there, he had a mild jet lag, great worldly knowledge, and a small paunch, all hallmarks of a learned scholar. He spent the rest of his life advising his people on how to construct homes with OPC and stones
.

He is still regarded as the father of civil engineering among many tribes inhabiting the forests of the Amazon who honour him by dancing around the fire and throwing stones at his idol.

the god of concrete

Glossary:

1. The exact time in history is difficult to tell as the tale starts with long long time ago, which is pretty vague.

2. This, he says is about two days before kumboy declared himself a legend. He also claimed that he gave him the idea as being a legend was lucrative at that time, but then my grampa wasn’t sober then.

3. Statements of this kind were later used in the Indian standard codes. Eg: provide minimum spacing of 3d or 300 mm whichever is less. The reference to deseeded dates here has perplexed many analysts till date.

4. Readers might  say after this “long long time” we’ve come back to the present, but no, ‘long long’ is like infinite time space.

5. Once along the equator and once touching the poles, he unknowingly dispelled the theory that earth might be a ring or just a disc.

6. Duh! Hotel California

7. The name of this institute is withheld because a confidentiality agreement was signed to protect the interests of the parties involved

8. The rose here is another name and water is used instead of blood. This literary technique is used to make this statement humorous.

9. Composition of this is beyond the scope of this work.

10. This was the inspiration for many future scientists to study time travel and relativity.

11. In times yore, people believed the space to be a black table with disco lights lighting it up.hence the term ‘landing in/on space’

12. This refers to the grandchild; now, he’s bored of referencing.

space goggles

paper planes

Speakers are either ‘interactive’ or ‘non interactive’. The interactive talks are lively while the non interactive kind thrives on content. Similarly listeners can be broadly classified as ‘listening’ or ‘non-listening’. Since listeners are generally more in number the classification of listeners is not as easy as it seems.
An uninterested speaker has to just talk and more often than not, it would be a presentation that would’ve gone into his head by repetition right from his ’listening’ days(in some cases these presentations are made shorter by the speaker “those are out dated, u can look up the updated data from the internet”) . A listener on the other hand has no other option. Social responsibility, public etiquette and respect for the speaker (in some level) stops him from breaking away from the maddening monotone or the overwhelming camaraderie (depending on the type of the speaker).

Every listener has his own identity; it is similar to a finger print of a person. But, a pattern can always be found and some of the most common patterns are listed below.
Note: All These characters are ‘listening’ in some level. A write up on ‘non-listeners’ is in the anvil and will be updated as soon as it takes shape.

The Dog

http://smileluver38.webs.com/apps/photos/photo?photoid=76970469

He’s the first smiling face in a class, he is a first bencher, he bobs his head so much that it makes the speaker dizzy watching him, he titters when the speaker smiles, he takes copious notes and every syllable is noted down. Lines are drawn for every heading, important sections are marked (every section), key words underlined or in other words he is the ‘notes’ keepers of the class. Any budding speaker wishes the room is full of this kind, as He is a ‘confidence booster’. He’s the First chapter in ‘wise cracks 101’, a bible for the last bench 'wisecrackers'. He need/needn’t be brilliant in his work, but he’s found generally,suffering from an condition of advanced ‘psycho’fancy(sic).

The Cool guy.

http://georgecoghill.com/blog/346/cartoon-dog-with-cigar-mascot-logo-illustration/

Though the above tag is trite, nothing can describe him better. He sits in the second or the third bench. He is the fellow who looks a little out of place among the nonchalant last benchers.  Generally, he doesn’t like to be labelled a dog; hence he dresses up a little differently, walks a little differently and acts in a way that might imply cool indifference. This sham is perfected by practice. An average speaker can identify this clan easily while a good speaker immediately makes contact with this group to get the attention of the majority. In Some cases the inherent ‘doggie’ness he was trying to kill resurfaces and he ends up becoming the secondary source of ‘class notes’. These people are the first to try out/copy assignments and sometimes partner with the doggies to finish it.

Last benchers.

http://reuningscherer.net/stat230/

This is the last classification of the ‘listeners' and this is typically a group behaviour. They are very lazy; They are intermittent listeners with sporadic bursts of attention. At other times, a speaker may encounter lazy half nods, man eating yawns, half suppressed laughter (jokes directed at him or one of the first benchers) or the residual smirk after the laughter. The more-adventurous of the lot read news papers, play hangman or if the scenario is conducive, catch a recent movie in his/her laptop. This gang behaviour is fuelled by each one trying to match the others’ guts in crossing the moral line. These people face real pressure in meeting deadlines that are created by them after the actual deadline to salvage some points. They write fast and copy faster. When a speaker spots frenzied writing during his talks, it is not because of him speaking, but it is the last minute scramble to finish an assignment.

P.S:

This was actually an exercise on writing, I was testing the effectiveness of an irrelevant topic headline in attracting readers to read the whole irrelevant stuff.if u have come this far... counter += 1;