Thursday, May 24, 2007

My most negative post. Yet.

The feeling of helplessness, of seeing your final weed of hope slip away is extremely debilitating. In my case, paralyzingly so.

Been living like a Zombie for the past few days. For no apparent reason. Just that my mind has parked itself into what computer engineers would call an orphan state. It responds to neither +ve nor -ve reinforcement or stimuli. I feel dispassionate, enervated and completely detached. I take pleasure from nothing, pains from nothing, look forward to nothing.

I have just been reading novels like a maniac. Found my usual favorite Crichton also to be thoroughly insipid. I barely work. Everyday I battle my urge to give up, become a recluse and run away.

Why did I come to this? Why didn't I do anything when I could foresee this? Why is hindsight so painful? When will I get to be a generally happy soul in life without these nags and worries?

This post reeks of negativism. Why am I like this? Is this what they call a quarter life crisis? Am I sick, do I need therapy?

There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ships smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I cant hear what you're sayin'.
When I was a child I had a fever.
My hands felt just like two balloons.
Now I got that feeling once again.
I cant explain, you would not understand.
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb.

Monday, May 21, 2007

"Ghaangothree" को सास्ठांग नमस्कार

No, I haven't got tambi-ized living in the midst of Tamilians in Singapore. Dispel any such thoughts!! I don't want anyone thinking anything even remotely resembling this thought lest the bad karma spread and I start gasping at some induced metamorphosis in myself :). Yikes, how I dread just the idea of being a Tambi.

But this post isn't about my strong racist inclinations and psyche. It's about this restaurant in Little India which chooses to call itself "Ghaangothree".

Presumably, it appears as an attempt to suit the title to the holy glacier Gangotri in the Himalayas. Out of curiosity, I went up to the cashier (possibly the owner of the joint) to confirm my hypothesis. Not surprisingly, he confirmed that this was precisely their intention. Guess my reaction upon hearing this. I went ballistic after making my discovery.

I mean just how badly can you screw up something as simple as Gangotri?? Damned Southies!! Yet, inconceivably to my inane mind, they have somehow connived to transform it into what almost sounds like a mangled abuse.

Now, my only grouse is this. Why wouldn't you just consult a North Indian before you set out on some mighty venture as christening a South Indian restaurant with a North Indian name? The difference between a North Indian and a South Indian is similar to that of a Dosa and a Kulcha, a man and a woman, a priest and an emperor. Each has his specialties and domain of expertise. Try transposing domains and faux pases like this is what you land up with!!

However, to the credit of the guy, his restaurant is apparently quite famous! Try searching "Ghaangothree" on Google and all your results will lead to this innocuous eatery @ 5, Hindoo Road, Singapore. (All roads lead to Rome, eh!!).
It is listed as one of the must-try restaurants by the Singapore Yellow Pages.
Hence, my सास्ठांग नमस्कार to this ill-fated but honest fusion attempt of the North with the South :).

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Why are grocery provisions called "supplies"?

A completely superfluous post. On a random thought that got stuck into my head as I was reading the novel Eragon last week.

Random thoughts are like bad songs. Much as you'd like to erase them from your memory and move on, they will just irrepressibly linger on. Like that painlessly irritating niggle on your back which will keep on twitching every now n then until you scratch yourself. (Hail the Ape man ;) ).

However leaving random thoughts on random thoughts (even I am in a tizzy :). What's the term for this concept?) and getting back to the point, here is what I've been pondering over since 4 days.

Why is food/grocery shopping referred to as "supplies"?? Travelers stop to pick up supplies, bachelors bulk stock supplies, westerner's convert their supplies shopping trips into outings... The phenomenon is global and omnipresent!! (Come to think of it, even I've called them supplies for as long as I can recall!! How ridiculous!!)

What possibly could be the story behind this usage of the word "supplies"?
It sounds so corny, almost as if you are delivering material to some war-front!!

What was wrong with calling them rations or provisions or foodstuffs? Victuals if you are the unearthly, imaginative types.

But no, supplies is what it is!! It can be so terribly misleading...
Imagine a situation like this. You are traveling by the Metro and you overhear this super-babe of a woman talking on her mobile - "Please don't forget to pick up supplies on your way home".
How drawing, titillating and yet desperately frustrating that is!!
You'd be wishing, almost praying, that you could swap places with the dude at the other end of the line. And yet, you could get just end up cooking dinner for her ;)...kill the whole vibe!!

Amazing how we overlook these small small trifles and nuggets that run thru our everyday lives.