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One classic which never grows old and can sustain over the ages...A lyrical masterpiece fitting in my party log of welcoming 2012...From the pen of Phil the Master...Its just another day in Paradise!!!

She calls out to the man on the street, "Sir, can you help me?
It's cold and I've nowhere to sleep. Is there somewhere you can tell me?"
He walks on, doesn't look back, he pretends he can't hear her
He starts to whistle as he crosses the street, seems embarassed to be there

Oh, think twice, it's just another day for you and me in paradise
Oh, think twice, it's just another day for you, you and me in paradise
Just think about it

She calls out to the man on the street, he can see she's been crying
She's got blisters on the soles of her feet, she can't walk, but she's trying

Oh, just think twice, it's just another day for you and me in paradise
Oh yes, think twice, it's just another day for you, you and me in paradise
Just think about it, uh - huh, just think about it

Oh Lord, is there nothing more anybody can do
Oh oh Lord, there must be something you can say

You can tell by the lines on her face, you can see that she's been there
Probably been moved on from everyplace, cause she didn't fit in there

Oh yes, think twice, it's just another day for you and me in paradise
Oh yes, think twice, it's just another day for you, you and me in paradise
Just think about it, uh - huh, just think about it

It's just another day for you and me in paradise
It's just another day for you and me in paradise
It's just another day for you and me in paradise
It's just another day for you and me in paradise
It's just another day for you and me, it's another day for you and me
It's another day for you and me in paradise
In paradise, oh, oh, oh, oh yeah

A tale of cat and mouse

Before starting the actual engravings on my blog wall, I want to clear the air. I am neither a feminist nor a women’s rights activist. I am neither a social reformer nor a modern Raja Ram Mohan Roy. I am just jolting down my thoughts on an article which caught my attention a month ago. This is probably the most serious post of my blog so far and I don’t want to tone down the intensity of the issue to follow my usual suite. My mom used to tell me a famous saying which goes like – “A pet kitten can attack like a tiger, if tortured in a closed room”. I guess the saying has different levels of meaning, but after going through the domestic violence/abuse statistics last month I found it completely wrong. A Colorado court had given a domestic violence convict much debated freedom by basing the act on temporary insanity. One might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb. Sad part is morality can never take a chair when insanity prevails. What’s law is planning to prove. Violence against an intimate partner, in most of the cases - women is just an act of insanity???

Let’s start with numbers – Around the world, at least one in every three women has been beaten, coerced into sex or otherwise abused during her lifetime. Most often, the abuser is a member of her own family. Domestic violence is the leading cause of injury to women—more than car accidents, muggings, and rapes combined. Men aren’t spared either. About two in five of all victims of domestic violence are men, contradicting the widespread impression that it is almost always women who are left battered and bruised, a new report claims.

More than 30% victims of domestic violence around the world never comes out of their - in this case, the Lion’s den raising their voice because of their fear of shame rosen from the contraceptive decision making in terms of choosing their partners. If the partner is brutally injured and the convict hence proven guilty, the convict is punishable to the maximum of a jail term of 5 years. If there is a kid in the scenario(as a product of their unfruitful relationship), the convict can escape with much lesser possibility of punishment. According to UNICEF’s statistics, more than 75% of children who are grown in these kinds of abusive environment will grow up with psychological disorders which can mutate to trauma and depression that can carry for their life time. The convict of the Texas Chain Saw massacre is a product of one such incident in his childhood. Domestic violence is a widely known dark secret. It’s more brutal than a Sexual Homicide. As a matter of fact, in a homicide the victim is killed on the spot with a one time suffering. Domestic violence perpetuates, influence and disturbs the intensity and defoliates the life. This is not a social message. A society in which every human being is ought to be survived, one should never let down oneself to undergo this pain. It’s very difficult to undergo a cross pollination phase when two human beings coming from completely different backgrounds merged under one roof. Differences do exist. Violence is not an answer and is a severely punishable crime. Law should be stringent to leave any reservations for the convicts. Do not close the door. Ring a bell!!!

COKE 'n me

Black – A colour that represent extreme vacuum in the universe, A colour which showcases deep down emptiness, a colour that defined the darkness and the very own colour of highest point of attraction. I don’t have a squad about how the name COLA came up with this colour, but as a kid I never really tend to pose myself with a bottle of coke in my hands (It was coca cola at that time and people used to call it, with its very own name). The childhood fascination was all about colours and even grayish Limca couldn’t fit into my bottle of wine. It started with Gold Spot. The addiction to orange had grown with age and transformed from long T’d 330ml bottles to mini skirted 300ml cans. Though the cylindrical cans which belonged to cooler gen next, just got themselves confined to my math calculations and couldn’t fit in my hands.

So all the intro above is jus to prove my first love wasn’t with Coke and as the saying goes that Love stories started at a tender age can never last longer than they seem to be. By the time I have started using the phrase I am a grown up now, orange coloured Fanta/Mirinda (Did I mention that Gold Spot evolved into much cooler versions like above) were successfully replaced with world’s best soft drink - Coca Cola. And its an age where my teenage dreams jus subdued and I need to show my prowess of so called male ego of a grown up man. I never liked the smell of beer and alcohol was still considered as a sin thing (I totally disagree with that logic, but cmon consider the Indian so called ethical environment which suppressed the logic behind any belief). First shot at coke did gave me an awesome feeling of sliding through the throat which was parched due to a hot Indian summer. It was heaven. Since then, coke had been my strength and weakness and successfully kept me away from beer.

Coke is just a symbol of realtime addiction, atleast for me. What do I have for breakfast – bread, cheese and coke(a modern French combo); Lunch – Pasta and coke; Dinner – rice and coke; Dessert – vanilla coke; Reduce weight – Diet coke; Need to sleep – Zero Coke; Coke delivered every product to suit my life style. It did complete me. This love story did lasted for a while before I found my date and entered a polygamy with beer. A date with beer has a sense of kick but coke always gave the much needed satisfaction for which I am still an addict. Everything in life has a beautiful ending. And if it is not beautiful, then be sure, it is not the ending. Beer showed the side effects (belly especially) and I had to get back to the love of my life. As U2 sang with or without you in my ears coke defined the perfect sync of my life with a They lived happily ever after climax. This time it’s a happy ending and Maniratnam’s dialogues in Geetanjali did came true – Nobody knows how long they gonna last, but they will be happy as long as they are together. Coke will last forever by giving justification to the core for every addict and I am no Chuck Norris. I did opened my happiness…(Damn coca cola isn’t gonna pay me for this heart felt marketing…L)

A journey of unbuttoned knickers and torn shirts

When driven back in those memories, there were no egos, there were no night outs, there were no tensions and there were definitely no running and waning outs behind life. But there were egos because I had fewer pencils than my best friend, there were tensions because I never knew how to explain my social studies marks to my mom and there was tiresome running because of hard hitting dodge ball. There were sweet kisses on cheeks which were not coincidental, then there were half eaten carriers and scolding moms along with brain eating dads. In my case its 6 days of grandma and grandpa along with 1 day of mom and dad. There were power cuts, blood rush jumps from buildings to buildings when spider man exists only in comic books and cartoons. There was also Chitrahar and Chitralahari along with Ramayana, chandrakantha , Mahabharata, and Disney hour with Ducktales and Talespin.

There was a time where dancing with a girl means love – a mere misnomer from famous tollywood movies, ofcourse it wasn’t tollywood too at that time. There were puppy shames whenever I used to forget zipping my knickers and a blush despite you are a boy. There was this Sunday bathing ritual with dad and mom running behind me to get the process started. There were summer holidays where I don’t have to worry about getting tanned or sun burnt. All I can think of was loads of cricket and badminton with pretentious acts of mischievousness. There were night outs on new years eve to beat the best rangoli in the street and saving the pocket money to buy cosco balls for weekend cricket. There were broken glass windows, woken maniacs (all elders in street) and preaching neighbors. The best screwed up punch line was “Please study Tanuj. You have plenty of time to play.” Oh please who can get me back my childhood. I will pour in all my savings along with my shares I bought. Please get me back my childhood and same feeling where two rupees was a treasure. Despite consistent outburst of worsening marks, even the worst injuries along with empty homework books used to make my day. I was proud to be called an adamant kid but I never looked back and regret. I broke the flower pots in school, destroyed the garden and even fought with my friends and tore their shirts. But never a dull moment or a moment of hypocrisy. I can still feel the same, but with an added tension of growing old.

There was an old telugu song in which ANR sings to a crying baby which gist to why do you wanna grow up so soon. The life beyond this sucks. Yes practically it sucks. But at the same time the enjoyment is taken care at every step. So everyone’s life was a summer of 69. It goes like “But when I look back now, summer seems to last forever and if I had the choice, Yeah I always wanna be there. Those were the best days of my life.”

C'est la vie Murphy!!!

Murphy’s Law says “If anything can go wrong, it will definitely go wrong”. It seems so discouraging for asking oneself to give up on fight when it’s not actually started. Seems too preemptive isn’t it? When you actually know the circumstances and give it an open heart it doesn’t matter. But showing a white flag before the battle starts is pathetic. Even if it is, amidst ruins. We all hear about great battles won on the split second decisions and courageous face offs. What if the battle is lost in mind beforehand? I have a small story to share

“ Decades ago a Chinese army going for a battle stops in front of a temple and started praying to god for their win despite the reality says the chances are less. The major of the battalion talked to the soldiers about destiny’s role in win–loss situations and how we cannot overcome it. He asked soldiers whether taking the chances straightaway is worth it or not. None of them could answer. So he decided to flip a coin in front of god to take the matter of fact whether it’s destined for them to win, or lose the battle. He called heads for win and tails for loss. Strangely it turned out to be heads. The army with an overarching enthusiasm and confidence fought as if they are ordered by almighty itself and against all the odds won the battle.”

The story talks about odds, risk and doing what is invincible against all of them. The twist in the tale is that the coin tossed by major is a two headed one. Moral is simple. Win the battle in mind and heart before entering into the ground. Life is more of cross roads and taking decisions in the periods of utmost uncertainty. In my first ever post, I have tried explaining a process based approach in taking decisions. Now when I see it down the line, it’s YUCK. My current bottom line - Take the decisions that drive the hell out of ya and back them up with logic. Vince Lombardi quoted “man's finest hour, the greatest fulfillment of all that he holds dear, is that moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle.” I have just clipped the last word of the quote Victorious coz it makes no sense. Win or lose when exhausted and lying down on the ground fighting the battle gives a sound of HELL YA, rather than giving up taking the odds into consideration. And as the myth says the heaven is always reserved for the people who fought and died in the battle, but not the ones who watch it as a mere spectacle. I found a battle today which is calling for an unwanted humiliation as a reward for loss. I was blank, destructed and petrified by the way it turned up. But a warm heart asked me for a restoration of pride and for a kick ass journey. And here I am to defy Murphy’s Law, if it has actually decided for some worst odd!!!

The evolution of a geeky cook!!!

I still remember my first day of cooking. I was standing beside my grandma seeing her, artistically rotating the egg yolk over the pan and flipping it so cleanly. Even though its a cake walk and a nobrainer for her stature, I was awestruck and looking for a rehearsal of the same feat and asked for my turn. That's how it started. Although the start has been a miniatured version of omelette, it did gave me pleasure at that time to try it in front of my guru (though the flipping did spilled some oil on my hands). It did showed me some kind of achievement. But the talent went few folds...

I am not writing this for starting a gender war or for who is the best cook or how to perfect the art of cooking. I am just trying to relate some basic human behaviours with an example of culinary. I have started my full length cooking after coming to Engineering and it was a roller coaster ride. It was more of a survival act rather than a talent display. For example, 90% of students (especially male and I dont term geeks alone here) start their first hit on cooking with either egg or noodles coz it doesn't involve cutting or piercing anything. Believe me male counterparts are more scared of blood and needles than their female counterparts.

Once we get used to the basic cookery we try to transform from being a Human Resources manager to an Operations manager. Initially it was more of shielding ourselves from cuts and bruises, more concerned about what happens to us rather than how well it taste. But later its about how well it tastes and how to make it more tastier. Its a pure operational and quality process. Then a transformation to change management and trying new recipes. Its all about innovation and swimming through new channels of waters. There the resources like google and youtube comes into picture. Then the process slowly starts to emerge and perfection comes into picture. It gives a complete picture of how to make a better cook and how well each new addition add value to the final product. I have seen this uncanny evolution completed successfully in my friend Hari who has a greater kink of using knives, as smooth as a paint brush.

It is the evolution of any cook no matter whether he is a professional chef or a student who becomes one without a professional training. Infact I have just taken cooking as an example. We will come across these kind of stuff of learning from mistakes and blah blah blah. Right from the bicycle fall to car driving or placing a sweet chorus on class benches to actual drummers or a implicit lines on a white paper to a professional drawing, everything transforms from a survival instinct to an art. Some people may differ on Darwin's evolution of species but what we are doing is a terrific live proof of the one in our own lives.

I will end with a sweet note - Worlds best cook is none other than our own mom. So lets not compare ourselves with the masters of universe...:P

A tale of hits and misses!!!

The worst things hit harder when the chips are down and the mind is torn between integrity and logic. The diligence will rise...!!!

It started when I first heard Geofrey Boycott's kinky voice describing Amir Sohail's wicket in 1996 world cup quarters when Prasad bowled him clean..."You miss it, I hit it." Since then these words described every single unfortunate attempt I have come across to try hard but resulting in the sweet sound of croak of stumps behind. The incidents varied from much hyped Lagaan's oscar miss and when I saw Zidane shattering the hopes of entire hostel in my college in the final vs Italy to my own experience of missing my flight while falling asleep in the Sydney airport(:P).

The biggest test of nerves will come into action when all the chips are down and when a human or a system undergoes this phase. When I was testing a system of simulation of noise of an engine in IC lab in IIT chennai, I made the entire system to undergo the phase called breakeven point, which means the phase where the system starts to showcase the whiteflag attempt of breakdown. It is tested against the vulnerability and code is written to improve the efficiency whether it is 100% perfect or not. These situations are simulated to see the effect of one system over other which is a chain reaction. When the systems are linked together an upheaval in one part will form a continous effect over the entire system. We cant neglect the wear and tear but can reduce the disambiguity or upheaval by finding out the root cause and reverse engineer the process to undo the error. Human networks are no different.

When these kind of situations rise and when one misses the oppurtunity, the decision making abilities are struck and human brain will seize to function automatically. Different emotions will start to surface especially temper and heart breaks. In 90% of the situations Managers seek to find new methods to motivate the people around them externally and neglect the root cause of the problems. The theoretically impossible but practically proven "Butterfly effect" states that no matter how large the effect is, the root cause still follows the basic natural disturbances in the system. Its difficult to counter human emotions rised during these kind of circumstances. It will have a high on effect when these things are uncontrollable. All predictions and formulae blast off.

These kind of dynamic behaviours showcased are highly sensitive to human conditions and result in chaos such as financial crisis. However the mathematical models which are highly dependent on the past data or experiences will be dealt a blow when an entirely new phase in behaviours surface. How to predict that is a million dollar question. Systems and humans adjust to stability or comfort zone once these kind of imbalances occur.It's all about how effective is your damage control when you really miss what you are supposed to hit. After all it is technically impossible to generate a pure signal without noise!!!

RIP Ramana garu...Adios The Jewel of Telugu Literature...!!!

I never knew that my post will start as an RIP note to the author I have been worshiping from past so many years. Mullapudi Venkata Ramana is no more. Its an obnoxious sentence. He is alive. He lives as long as the telugu literature lives in this world. He lives as long as the language lives. His literary works are contemporary and had tough notch sarcasm attached to what we call heavy dosage social issues. My teacher used to say the sentence " Ravi Ganchun cho Kavi Ganchun (The poet sees the world the sun cannot see). Ramana garu is one such an audacious writer whose pen has drilled down greatest mines of telugu literature with a flow.

His Sahiti Sarvasvam is a bible for modern Telugu Readers and Writers.His characters " Apparav " and " Budugu " will remain in telugu hearts forever. He never missed an opportunity to highlight the so called Ramana Touch to the most of the social issues. His works will take us to the world of 80's which are precious bridges between the old times and new generations.

He along with Bapu marvelled some extra ordinary movies like Sakshi,Pelli Pustakam, Muthyala Muggu, Sita Kalyanam etc. His Sita Kalyanam along with Bapu is a poetic recital of Ramayana and is taught as a lesson at London Scohol of Arts. After reading a few literary works by Mullapudi Venkata Ramana, one will know where does the characters from Bapu movies get their irony, satire and sarcasm from ..... The magic his words has created with Bapu's lens on screen is beyond any words ....Some of the jewels fallen from his pen...

"Asuya ghataina prema ki thermometer " says a character while trying to reason his possessiveness in Budhdhimantudu Movie.

"Cegatri, akasam lo murder jariginattu ledu, suryudu nethuru gadda la ledu" says villian in introduction and the way we perceive the character changes from there on in Muthyala Muggu ...

Take a raw emotion, add right amounts of sensibility, throw in capability for good measure, mix it up well with a humorous lightening rod, allow it to settle in a volatile container. The concoction sums up Sri Ramana's characters. His characters usually spread out on the far sides of the colorful spectrum. Either they are truly sensible, looking at the world without any hang ups or they are completely outlandish bordering on biting sarcasm, fantasy and cynicism.

Its too sad that his works are not published in any of the websites. Recently Chiranjeevi was furious over Padma awards jury of neglecting Bapu - Ramana. They delayed the awards for mighties and gave it to Dasari, Mohanbabu etc. I am not criticizing the winners, but now the award lost its colour. Ramana is no more...

Let me finish off this post with a dialogue between Budugu and Ceegana Peesunamba .....

budugu walks in front of a mirror, looks into it, folds his hand (in namaskaaram fashion) and starts singing:

okkade mahaanubhaavudu, aa okkadiki vandanamulu...

Pesoonamba rushes into the frame and starts yelling:

mashtaaru,veedu, paatanu khooni chestunnaadu

budugu looks at Peesunamba, obligingly and corrects his song, this time turned toward her:

iddare mahaanubhavulu,aa iddarikee vandanamulu...

Ceegana Peesunamba is pleased!


Meeru velli povachchu sir....mee sahityam mimmalni eppudu maa mungitlone unchutundi...

Badha tapta hrudayamtoh - Mee,
Tanuj