tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79237642024-03-07T13:30:59.777-08:00Blog or Block!!!Have you gone MAD today?Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-44896579941052995182008-09-01T23:09:00.000-07:002008-09-01T23:32:42.534-07:00I held a $10mn note in my handExcept it wasn't USD. It was <a href="http://images.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://ylwong.files.wordpress.com/2008/04/zimbabwe-zim-currency-slide.jpg&imgrefurl=http://ylwong.wordpress.com/2008/04/15/worlds-most-worthless-money/&h=352&w=580&sz=73&hl=en&start=2&usg=__IhzXITILrex9WGHAObjCyhRTm4U=&tbnid=BBm4m8Uki_bzUM:&tbnh=81&tbnw=134&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dzimbabwe%2Bcurrency%26gbv%3D2%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DG">Zimbabwe dollars</a>!<br /><br />While attending Economics refresher classes in Bangkok last week, our teacher passed around a 10mn Zimbabwe dollar currency note. Guess its value?<br /><br />Recent estimates claim its worth USD 0.10. That's ten American cents, or four Indian rupees!<br /><br />No wonder <a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2008/BUSINESS/08/19/zimbabwe.inflation/?iref=mpstoryview">Zimbabwe inflation officially hit 11,200,000% in August 2008</a>. Consequently, a loaf of bread now costs 1.6 trillion Zimbabwe dollars!<br /><br />How can such an economy possibly be saved?Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-57375510611141640522008-06-12T02:34:00.000-07:002008-06-30T01:06:22.057-07:00Of Continents, and Countries, and Cities ...The countdown so far: 4 continents, 7 countries, 51 cities.<br /><br />Not much, maybe, but not bad for starters. Especially given that until end 2005, the countdown was just one continent (Asia) and one country (India).<br /><br />The targets are lofty. I'd like to visit at least 50 countries in my lifetime. This should include all the (non-imaginary) countries Asterix and Tintin ever visited; all major religious capitals; and all the new seven wonders of the world.<br /><br />For me, more interesting than the number of places one has <em>visited </em>are the number of places one has <em>lived in</em>. I'd define "lived in" as "staying continuously in a city/town/village for at least one month at a stretch, and for at least two months in all". That, I think, is sufficient time to explore a place fully and to get a fairly representative sense of how the life of a local would be. Per this definition, I've lived in eight Indian cities (Kolkata, Mumbai, Delhi, Ahmedabad, Pilani, Bangalore, Jamshedpur, Mithapur) and one South African city (Johannesburg). Plus I've also lived for two or more months in disparate stretches in Ranchi, Pune, Patna, Goa and Kandla. So that makes it anywhere between nine and fourteen cities <em>in toto</em>. Again, this may not sound like too much, but until just over a decade back, this count was merely three (Kolkata, Mumbai and Ranchi). Also, this list includes two national capitals, seven Indian state capitals, three of India's four metros, and three semi-rural townships. And Hyderabad and Kabul may possibly soon be new additions to this list. So, again, not bad for starters!<br /><br />So, which of these places is "home"? Tough question! One of my old classmates put it superbly when he recently told me in New York, "In today's world, life is all about being location-agnostic". When I ponder over this statement, it seems that's exactly how it should be! For young qualified ambitious professionals in this fast-changing interconnected world, opportunity could knock from anywhere, and we should always have our bags packed and ready to go! And we can live far from home and yet reach home in less than a day - no matter where we are in the world, and no matter where "home" is. Whether from Mumbai to Moldova, or from Delhi to Denmark - everything's interconnected; everything's right here, by our side. And the world, which took Phileas Fogg 80 days to circumnavigate, can now be done in much less than 80 hours.<br /><br />Still, even for the seasoned traveler, there always is a "home", a place one can always come back to and know it's been waiting, waiting for your return; where the sights, and sounds, and faces, and narrow lanes, and musty shops, and old shopkeepers, and dewy grass, are all familiar; where the soul knows it belongs to; where the heart knows peace. I, too, have such a home. Indeed, I have two. The first is Kolkata; or, more specifically, 20 Royd Steet, our ancestral family home. The other is Mumbai; Bandra in particular. No matter where I live, these two places will always be home to me.<br /><br />What's "home" for you?Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-53234962375893649192008-06-12T02:15:00.000-07:002008-06-12T02:32:53.840-07:00Back in a new avatarGreetings! This is my first post here after a long hiatus. It's been a busy few months for me. <br /><br />So why am I back? Perhaps because I miss writing, perhaps to stimulate the right ("creative") half of my brain with some fresh challenges, perhaps to re-engage with cyberspace in a more meaningful manner. Who knows? <br /><br />And, frankly, who cares? The more pertinent question (at least for me) is - now that I <em>am </em>back, what shall I write about? Philosophy? Sci-fi? Comedy? Biographies of great souls? <br /><br />Naw. I think I'll start with travel. Travelling and seeing new places has always been a passion of mine. I enjoy most aspects of travelling - the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, everything is tantalizing and new and appealing. Even better than travelling is actually living in different places. That's when one can really get a true sense of the place - by residing there for a period, "getting into the skin" of the locals as it were. I've been fortunate to have travelled a bit, and also to have lived in different places over the years - and hopefully this trend will continue! <br /><br />Of course, given the way life has been of late, I don't expect to post often. And all standard disclaimers apply: While the posts may at times draw from my professional experiences, they are all strictly my own personal views and observations. Also, all pics put up here have either been clicked by me or by someone known to me, else the source will be cited. <br /><br />Welcome to my TravelBlog - to the world as seen through my eyes!Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1150967697386802192006-06-22T01:57:00.000-07:002006-06-22T05:25:30.980-07:00Hello World<span style="color:#3333ff;">Ok, I'm back. I'm surprised I still remember how to post (duh!), but some recent meanderings have been so cool that I decided to share them with my long-forgotten blog! </span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">So with this preamble and without further ado, here goes ... </span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">(Warning: It's <em>really </em>heavy duty stuff!)</span><br /><strong><span style="color:#3333ff;"></span></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>"THE SUHAIL KASSIM THEORY OF THE UNIVERSE"</strong><br /><br />****** Start of Code ******<br /><br /><strong>I. Reverse Time Hypothesis<br /></strong>1. Postulate: Like space (XYZ axes) coordinates, time (T axis) coordinates can go forwards as well as backwards.<br />2. Here is one Hypothesis to support the above Postulate. We shall call it the “<a name="OLE_LINK1"></a><a name="OLE_LINK2"></a>Concentric Black Hole Universes Hypothesis”.<br /><br /><strong>II. Concentric Black Hole Universes Hypothesis<br /></strong>1. Assume that the universe is an “open universe” (i.e. with time stretching to infinity) and not a “closed universe”. We shall call this the “parent universe”.<br />2. Now take the existence of a “pure black hole” in this “parent universe”.<br />3. Let us assume that within each black hole exists a “child universe” whose time axis is opposite to the “parent universe”<br />4. Within the black hole (i.e. the “child universe”) would exist another “black hole” whose time polarity would be opposite to its “parent universe”.<br />5. In this manner, there are an infinite series of concentric parent-child universes (i.e. black holes subsetted within other black holes).<br />6. The above postulates give rise to two options<br />a. <u>Option A</u> – Each Black Hole is a “Child Universe”<br />b. <u>Option B</u> – Each Black Hole is a Gateway into a “Child Universe”.<br />7. Under Option A – each “child universe” must of necessity be smaller in size than its “parent universe”.<br />8. Under Option B – no such size relationships between parent-child universes need exist.<br />9. One of these “black holes” is our universe.<br /><br /><strong>III. Fit with “Black holes absorb matter” Hypothesis<br /></strong>1. The Concentric Black Hole Universes Hypothesis would explain why, when a body enters a black hole, it disappears – the reason being that the exit from the “parent universe” into the “child universe” causes a reversal in time flow for the body – so the body starts “moving into the past” vis-à-vis the “parent universe”, and is therefore lost to view of the “parent universe”.<br /><br /><strong>IV. Fit with “Big Bang” Hypothesis<br /></strong>1. Stephen Hawking postulated that our universe was created in a “Big Bang” and will end with a “Big Crunch” which will be the start of the next “Big Bang”. How does this fit into the above hypotheses?<br />2. Under Option A –<br />a. If the Big Bang Hypothesis is true, each “parent universe” and its “child universes” would have to undergo the “Big Crunch” simultaneously.<br />b. They may or may not undergo the “Big Bang” simultaneously.<br />c. A “child universe” can have any number of “Big Bang” and “Big Crunch” cycles within one “Big Bang – Big Crunch” cycle of its “parent universe” – however, each “Big Crunch” of the “parent universe” would cause a “Big Crunch” of all the subsetted “child universes”.<br />3. Under Option B –<br />a. There is no relation between the “Big Bang – Big Crunch” cycles of the “parent universe” and its “child universes”.<br /><br /><strong>V. Fit with Theory of Relativity<br /></strong>1. One basic equation in Einstein’s Theory of Relativity states that:<br />a. T = T0 / sqrt (1-v^2/c^2) ………. where T0 = Time relative to a stationary body, T = Time relative to a body traveling at velocity ‘v’, c = Speed of Light<br />b. The above does not hold valid for v >= c. This is because ‘c’ is assumed to be a universal constant whose speed cannot be exceeded by any body in the universe.<br />2. The Concentric Black Hole Universes Hypothesis rejects this assumption. Under this Hypothesis, it is possible to travel faster than the Speed of Light. Under this Hypothesis:<br />a. T = T0 / sqrt (1-v^2/c^2) ……… for all v < c (1a)<br />b. T = Indeterminate ……… for all v = c (1b)<br />c. T = -(T0 x v/c) ……… for all v > c (1c) (this equation is assumed and not mathematically derived)<br />3. Under Eqn. (1c), T is negative (assuming T0 is positive). This means that any physical body which travels faster than the speed of light would experience “negative time travel”. The faster it travels, the higher the (negative) value of T. Hence, the effect of T is similar whether v <> c.<br />4. It is assumed that the transition from a “parent universe” to a “child universe” happens across an invisible Space-Time boundary at a speed greater than the speed of light. This might explain why, when a body approaches too close to a “Black Hole”, it experiences a strong gravitational pull towards the “Black Hole” which is caused because of dynamics between two independent Space-Time continuums, i.e. between two universes”, and the instant when it moves from one universe to the next, it does so at a speed greater than the speed of light, which is why the time polarity reverses for that physical body, and it finds itself in the “child universe” with a time axis which is opposite to the time axis of the “parent universe”.<br /><br /><strong>VI. When and how did the Universe originate?<br /></strong>1. Since the Concentric Black Hole Universes Hypothesis assumes that time can travel forward and backward, hence there is no concept like the “Beginning” or “End” of Time. Time (like space) is a closed loop within which any number of forward-backward cycles and sub-cycles are possible.<br />2. The original “parent universe” might have been created due to a “Big Bang” effect. Subsequent “child universes” might have been created due to “Big Bang” type of effects within the original “parent universe”, and so on. Note that the “Big Bang” Theory does not invalidate the Concentric Black Hole Universes Hypothesis under Option A (albeit with some constraints) and Option B.<br />3. Further thought on this sub-topic is underway.<br /><br />****** End of Code ******<br /><br />© Suhail Kassim 2006<br /><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">See, I <em>told </em>ya it would be heavy duty!!</span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">I now wonder how to find someone who would be kind enough to mathematically (not qualitatively) prove (or disprove) some (or all) of the above statements ... hmmm ... !<br /><br /></span><span style="color:#3333ff;"></span>Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1126775512830534012005-09-15T01:08:00.000-07:002005-09-15T02:15:28.393-07:00They deserve it!<span style="color:#000066;">Three days back, a relatively tiny news clipping on the front page of various newspapers announced the completion of the withdrawal of Israeli forces from the narrow coastal area known as the Gaza strip. </span><br /><span style="color:#000066;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000066;">True, they have left behind little more than rubble. True, they still retain control over the territory's air and sea space and, at least temporarily, all its borders, ostensibly to "prevent militant groups smuggling in weapons into Palestine". True, the "victory" of the Palestinians is perhaps more symbolic than real. Nonetheless, this was an event which can prove to be the decisive tipping point in the history of the troubled Middle East. The length of the news articles did not do justice to the historic significance of this momentous event.<br /><br />While I am no expert on international politics, I personally am <em>prima facie </em>totally delighted at this news. The Palestinians have suffered long enough, and greatly enough, to warrant all the sympathy and aid that any humane world can offer. My heartiest congratulations to them on this memorable, and long-overdue, occasion!<br /><br />The moot question here, though, is "why". Why did the Israelis retreat? International pressure to withdraw was currently low. Pressure on Israel to adopt new peace plans was also not working. Israel's hawkish right-wing Likud leader Ariel Sharon was under pressure, not just from the moderate Labor and opposition Shinui parties, but also from within his own party. His traditional supporters have not yet given up on their dream of a "Greater Israel", a dream which Sharon has aggressively been pushing since he was elected Prime Minister in February 2001. Why then this retreat, which in one way tantamounts to a public admission of defeat?<br /><br />The most plausible reason by far is that Sharon wants to appease Bush, who has publicly supported the existence of a Palestinian state, albeit with riders attached. This immediately raises the further question - why is the US apparently not supporting Israel wholeheartedly in this war? After all, the Israel-Palestine war has been construed by historians as less of a war over territory, and more of a symbolic Jewish-Islamic battle. In such an eventuality, if the push comes to the shove, the US would historically oppose the Islamic forces. Why then an exception in this case?<br /><br />Perhaps the answer lies in the winds of change. Jews are still very much part of the central engine which drives the US economy, but their political hold over the White House may have reduced because the Oval Office now has alternate sustainable sources of funds (read: "Oil"). Or maybe the US, having to choose between two devils, has decided to support the "Islamic-but-weaker" Palestinians rather than the "non-Islamic-but-potentially-a-future-superpower-in-the-long-term" Israel. Or maybe the US, having established its foothold in the oil-rich and strategically-positioned countries of the Middle East, thanks to its occupation of Iraq and its kinship with the family of Saud, no longer feels the necessity to kowtow to Israel. The last explanation may be the most plausible, but whatever the reason, it bodes well for the much-suffering Palestinians.<br /><br />There is, however, a fourth explanation which is rather disturbing. Perhaps this withdrawal, and the "disengagement plan" as a whole, is an elaborate and deliberate ploy to throw dust in the eyes of the world.<br /><br />After all, how much difference will it truly make to Palestine, or for that matter to Gaza? Is the withdrawal irreversible? What are Bush's and Sharon's private road-maps for the Middle East going ahead? These are uncomfortable questions, not just for the region, but for the world as we know it.<br /><br />For now, however, it is a time for the beleagured residents of Gaza, and their families, to celebrate, rest, and rebuild their lives. Brick by agonizing brick, stone by mortared stone. Here's wishing them Peace.<br /><br />Heaven knows, they deserve it.</span>Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1126526050629428282005-09-11T23:26:00.000-07:002005-09-12T04:54:10.676-07:0026th July 2005<span style="color:#000066;">The last few days have been crazily wet. Mumbai is being deluged once again, in sheets of rain which slap against the defenceless city and its huddled inhabitants like a curtain flapping against a slender pillar.</span><br /><span style="color:#000066;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000066;">The last few days have been so reminiscent of D-Day, 26th July 2005, that it compelled me to unearth some stray memories I'd noted down on that day. Here they are, witnessed first-hand by me as I travelled from office to home. This, then, is an eye-witness account of Mumbai, 26th July 2005:</span><br /><ul><li><span style="color:#000066;">A flag waving in the middle of the road. Investigation revealed that it was at the top of an auto which had been fully submerged!</span></li><li><span style="color:#000066;">4 people pushing a stalled BEST bus which had passengers in it. And wonder of wonders, the bus moved!</span></li><li><span style="color:#000066;">Wading for 3.5 hrs through waist deep muddy flood water which occasionally reached neck level, with a laptop on my head and trying to aviod the invisible gutters and sharp-edged breakers. Spending 12 hrs in a friend's car and only travelling 1.7 km. Leaving office at 6 PM and reaching home at 11 AM the next day.</span></li><li><span style="color:#000066;">Discovering that men coolly walk through floods cracking jokes, while women invariably lose their heads and panic!</span></li><li><span style="color:#000066;">Seeing a frail old lady wade through the muck and water while carrying a little child on her shoulders, just like the Sherpas of the Himalayas or the women working in the tea gardens of Darjeeling do.</span></li><li><span style="color:#000066;">People pushing and shoving to enter buses. And after 3 hours of complete immobility, silently dismounting and wending their way homeward on foot.</span></li><li><span style="color:#000066;">An enterprising van parking itself in the middle of no-man's land between Santa Cruz and Kalinaka, and selling tea and vada-pav at <em>tremendous </em>premiums!</span></li><li><span style="color:#000066;">An opportunistic tractor allowing people to clamber up, and ferrying them through the floods, that too at no cost. They even provided umbrellas to the passengers!</span></li><li><span style="color:#000066;">Taxis charging Rs. 100 per head on sharing basis (instead of the standard Rs. 5) for a one kilometer journey from Churchgate to Colaba. And most people ready to pay!</span></li><li><span style="color:#000066;">Floating Santros. A Merc abandoned in the middle of the Santa Cruz flyover.</span></li><li><span style="color:#000066;">People spending the night in offices, 5-star hotel lounges, railway stations ... just about anywhere and everywhere!</span></li></ul><p><span style="color:#000066;">I dread to imagine the plight of squatters, slum dwellers and low-lying chawl inhabitants.</span></p>Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1126463474104764362005-09-11T11:21:00.000-07:002006-08-16T09:32:35.560-07:00Idhar udhar ki baatein<strong><u>Iqbal : Movie Review<br /></u></strong><br />After quite a while, I saw a true-blue classic in the Theater. (No, Mangal Pandey comes close but does not quite qualify.) And what a movie it was! <em>Iqbal</em> stands out for its breathtaking realism, for simple scenes and dialogues which haunt you long after “The End” has flashed on screen, for tying together in a simple manner the world of the handicapped and the world of dreams. In bringing together the likes of Naseeruddin Shah (his first movie, if I recall rightly, after Sarfarosh), Girish Karnad, the supremely talented Shweta Prasad (of <em>Makdee</em> fame) and last but not least Kapil <em>paaji</em>, Subhash Ghai has pulled off a casting coup.<br /><br />And after the eminently forgettable Hyderabad Blues 2, Nagesh Kukunoor has finally come of age. Not just as a director, but (perhaps far more significantly for the future of parallel cinema in India) as a scriptwriter. He dares to dream big. He carries a deaf and dumb late-starting village lad through to the Indian cricket team. He exposes the multiple facets of, and the multifarious facades behind, the world of cricket at its highest level in India. Politics, match-fixing, bribery, nepotism … and a face-saving act by the <em>paaji</em> at the end.<br /><br />True, cricket is over-hyped in India and does not need yet another movie to promote it. But at the end of the day, <em>Iqbal </em>is less about cricket and more about hope, about standing upright in the face of all odds, about achieving the impossible.<br /><br />Go watch <em>Iqbal</em>. It made my day. It will make yours.<br /><br />+++<br /><br />Sania Mirza rocks. You go girl!<br /><br />+++<br /><br />My dream match would have been a Sampras-Federer Wimbledon final. But an Agassi-Federer US Open Final comes close.<br /><br />How would I like it to go? Well, I love watching Federer play, so I’d root for him to win all the points. But then, Agassi’s my overwhelming sentimental favorite, and I’d like him to triumph in this, his probable swansong at this Open.<br /><br />Bottomline: Federer should win all the points, but Agassi should win the match.<br /><br />Impossible? Probably. But if it did come true – such fun!<br /><br />+++<br /><br />"<em>It's only dreams, and dreams are all I have, to take your nightmares away</em>" - Rock Star Kassim<br /><br />Nowadays dreams are becoming so educational. I saw a hi-tech one recently. Here goes:<br /><br />In my dream, I was happily busy doing nothing whatsoever when daddy rushed into the room, holding my cellphone in one hand and his cellphone in the other hand.<br /><br />"Son", he exclaims excitedly, "I wanted a backup of all the numbers stored in my cellphone, so I connected my phone to yours and copied all my numbers onto your phone directory!"<br /><br />"But daddy", I spluttered, "Don't you have hundreds of numbers on your cell?"<br /><br />"Yes", daddy claimed proudly, "my cell memory size can take upto 500 numbers."<br /><br />"But <em>my</em> cell can only take 70! And I already had 70 stored contacts! What happened to them?"<br /><br />"Don't know, didn't check", said a confused daddy.<br /><br />"Oops!" I exclaimed and grabbed my phone and checked. And horror of horrors -- all my contacts had been deleted! And replaced by the first 70 of daddy's contacts, which only included those whose names began with A and B!<br /><br />And then -- I woke up out of fright.<br /><br />Dreams have indeed become so hi-tech nowadays. And dreamers have become so nutty :((((Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1126462881549879002005-09-11T11:16:00.000-07:002005-09-11T11:21:21.556-07:00A page from my diary …Just two nights ago, I was telling a friend, “Life ain’t so serious, y’know”. And then I paused and smiled to myself. It was a lesson I myself had forgotten over the past year or so, what with this and that and here and there and duties and crises and so on and so forth. But I was slowly re-learning it.<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#000066;">Three days back: The melodramatic koel which resides in the tree outside our house got its timing all wrong and woke me up at 3 AM with its mellifluous singing. And did I mumble an invective and turn back to sleep? No, I heard the song for a couple of minutes before slipping peacefully back into dreamland. It was, after all, a lovely song.<br /><br />Two days back: I was lounging about in the balcony when this incredibly cutie-pie squirrel strolled nonchalantly across the parapet, looked around suspiciously with its nostrils twitching, suddenly darted into the neighboring AC, and emerged triumphant with a huge chunk of <em>chapatti</em> in its mouth! I laughed till my sides hurt.<br /><br />Yesterday: Mumbai got drenched in sheets of rain yet again, reminiscent of 26th July. Fortunately it wasn’t as cataclysmic as before, and very few people were really affected. Lying in bed at night, it suddenly struck me that the sound of the unceasing rain, striking against the corrugated tin sheet atop our balcony, was amazingly beautiful. Reminscent of Chopin’s Minute Waltz. The sound filled my senses until my eyes started drooping.<br /><br /></span><br />There was a time, not so very long ago, when I thought I’d find it difficult to smile as easily as I always used to. Today, I find myself smiling once again, laughing once again. I feel like pulling the cheeks of every kid I see, stroking every kitten that gives me sly looks, sitting by the seaside in the late evenings. I want to learn the guitar, read my favorite childhood books once again (ah! the magic of Little Lord Fauntleroy, Tom Brown’s Schooldays, The Adventures of Elizabeth Gray, The Oz series, the Narnia series, The Land of Far Beyond!), start preparing to run the marathon, learn to cook <em>double ka meetha.</em><br /><br />I’m learning to live once again. And I think I’m learning to be happy once again. Alhamdulillah.Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1126065794595714272005-09-07T04:00:00.000-07:002005-09-07T10:07:04.656-07:00The Return of Gahji - Part 2<span style="color:#000066;">Yes, gentle discerning readers! The news doing the rounds is that our highly esteemed and dearly beloved Gahji is back!!!<br /><br />Refreshed. Renewed. Resurrected.<br /><br />Of course, Gahji, being a person who cherishes his privacy, will rarely appear on this blog. He prefers to maintain his anonymity elsewhere; perhaps on a private blog, or on the yellowing pages of a well-concealed personal diary, or on loose sheafs of scrap paper, or simply within the folds of a fertile imagination. But he exists. For Gahji is, after all, inseparable from the author. So yes, somewhere and in some fashion, Gahji is very much alive and kicking. But not here.<br /><br />Perhaps some of you will hear more of him someday in the distant future. Then again, chances are you won't.<br /><br />As Gahji would say, such is life, amigos.<br /><br />+++++<br /><br />My self-imposed blog-exile was due to myriad reasons. There were responsibilities to fulfil, problems to tackle, mountains to climb. By the Grace of the Almighty, many of these responsibilities have been fulfilled, most problems have been tackled, and several mountains have been climbed. And all along the way, there have been learnings. Some bitter. Some sweet. All useful.<br /><br />And as the long day draws to a close, the overwhelming feeling which lingers on is a sense of deep gratitude and lasting peace. We have fought the good fight. Some battles have been lost but the war has been won. The worthy have been identified and the unworthy have been discarded. We have made mistakes too, for we are but human. But we have fought and survived. And like the proverbial babbling brook, life hums along. Bringing with it new battles to fight, new challenges to face, new learnings to imbibe.<br /><br />The journey of life is so interesting, isn't it? If I were to choose a synonym for "life", it would be "contradictions". There are ups and there are downs. One moment you feel as if you would be torn apart should event X happen; and then event X does happen, and you realize that far from being torn apart, you're more whole, more intact, than before. Episodes which hurt like crazy are forgotten, albeit slowly. Friends turn betrayers; strangers become friends. People you trusted more than your own life leave you hurt, and betrayed, and confused. Some who you were afraid would leave you, inexplicably do not; some who you were so sure would never leave you, do so without a moment's hesitation, without a backward glance.<br /><br />Familiar story? Such episodes, and more, happen with so many of us. And slowly, we realize that in this whirligig we call life, all that has happened, and all that is happening, and all that will happen, has been, is, and will be, for the best.<br /><br />And when this realization dawns, one also realizes that one cannot keep hiding forever. Life moves on, and drags us, willy-nilly, along. And that's how it should be. For there are miles to go before we sleep. There's a life to lead and a future to mould. And, as Time rumbles inexorably by, one slowly gets the courage to let go of the past. Let go. Start afresh. Risk playing once again the Game of Life. The subsequent feeling of relief is palpable and indescribably therapeutic.<br /><br />So here's to new beginnings. To a new life. And to happier times ahead.<br /><br />+++++<br /><br />Several near and dear friends, many of who are themselves the proud architects of their own beautiful blogs, have been instrumental in the resurrection of this one. Thanks to them all. But one among them deserves special mention, if only for her phenomenal patience and outrageous perseverance which made her succeed where everyone else had long given up. My precious pal </span><a href="http://akruti.blogspot.com"><span style="color:#000066;">Neelima</span></a><span style="color:#000066;">. She's coaxed, cajoled, bullied and emotionally blackmailed <em>moi </em>into returning from a peaceful and secluded retirement back to the mad world of blogging. Tomorrow (Oct 8th) is her birthday. Here's wishing you a Very Happy Birthday Neels, and I do hope you like your birthday gift! :)</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000066;">And talking of birthdays, this blog celebrated its first Bloggie Birthday (doesn't "Bloggiversary" sound a trifle corny?) on August 11, 2005. That's 25 days back. Belated birthday wishes to myself :)</span><br /><span style="color:#000066;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000066;">+++++<br /><br />The Suhail Kassim of September 2005 is a different person from the Suhail Kassim of September 2004. And this difference will be apparent on this blog. Henceforth:<br /><br /></span><span style="color:#000066;"></span><span style="color:#000066;"></span><ul><li><span style="color:#000066;">He shall write only in his spare time and when he's in the mood. This will naturally translate to substantially fewer posts than in his previous <em>avataar</em>. </span></li><li><span style="color:#000066;">He shall write only what he feels like writing. Which, as of today, implies fewer stories and less light-hearted humour, and more socio-political analysis and psychological dissections. Yes, he's decided to jump onto the journalistic-cum-psychoanalytical blogging bandwagon! (Of course, there'll be the occasional autobiographical rant too. After all, a blog without autobiography and rant ain't a blog!)</span></li></ul><p><span style="color:#000066;">At the back of the author's mind is the thought that, one fine day, he may suddenly feel like changing the URL to this blog. Should that happen, don't panic! Instead, check your email - if you're a friend, rest assured you'll be informed of the new URL. And if he's somehow overlooked you, email or message him, and unless you're an anonymous stalker / an unpleasant memory / wanted by the FBI for drug peddling, he'll ping you back. </span></p><p><span style="color:#000066;">Speaking of which, the author is amused to note that, although he had stopped blogging on this site for so many months, he has in the interim had as many as six blogs! (Anyone from The Guinness Book around?) Of these, two were private blogs which are now redundant. Two others are newbies. And the last two - this blog and the </span><a href="http://madclub.blogspot.com"><span style="color:#000066;">MAD Club</span></a><span style="color:#000066;"> - are in dire need of oxygen. Which shall duly be provided.</span></p><p><span style="color:#000066;">Ok folks, signing off for the nonce. Keep the spirits up. Sayonara!</span></p>Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1104224828790785132004-12-28T01:06:00.000-08:002004-12-28T01:12:55.516-08:00Tsunami Relief ContactsEven if you can't help, please pass on these details ...
<br />
<br /><strong><em>Loads of info on </em></strong><a href="http://tsunamihelp.blogspot.com/"><strong><em>http://tsunamihelp.blogspot.com</em></strong></a><strong><em>.
<br /></em></strong>
<br />Some other details we've got so far is given below ...
<br />
<br />1) To volunteer in Besant Nagar : Please contact Shihan Hussaini 9841618386. You could help with old clothes, water bottles, blankets, food packets.
<br />
<br />2) To volunteer in Neelankarai : Please contact Priya 25506284.
<br />
<br />3) Message from Ryze Network :
<br />
<br />This is an emergency call from WE CARE FOR CHENNAI - Ryze Network. The tsunami has hit Chennai & many other places. The disaster is unprecedented in Chennai, rest of Tamilnadu, Pondicherry and Andhra Pradesh. Other countries are also hit. Most of the victims and their families belong to lower income strata. Time for action from all of us. Every kind of help counts now. Mitigating the suffering of the families of victims and surviving victims is a huge challenge. Help in every form counts. The psychological scar requires deft handling. What we can do? How we can act collectively, as socially-conscious, educated and responsible group? Who will co-ordinate what action? Please volunteer. Time is very short. Post your views and ideas right away. Let us see if a few workable ideas emerge quickly and get into consensus. If you are outside Chennai, please respond with your msg how you can participate, in whatever form. Can you co-manage this campaign with me? I will be grateful.
<br />
<br />Govind Srinivasan,
<br />Moderator,
<br />WE CARE FOR CHENNAI,
<br />Ryze Network
<br />Mobile: 93810 00516
<br /><a href="http://wcfc-network.ryze.com/" target="_blank">http://wcfc-network.ryze.com/</a>
<br />
<br />4) Message from an on-site volunteer:
<br />
<br />Dear Friends, I was travelling on the East coast road when the tidal wave hit - lots of people rushed out. Didn't realize the scale of the problem. Then went to the Marina and the slums nearby - all washed out. We still don't know fully what needs to be done. The current focus is on rescue operations - searching for lost people. The police and army is working on this. One thing that is clear when we talked to people affected is shelter -but this is not something that we can do immediately. We will need to work on this over the next two weeks. We have started collecting clothes - they will be needed over the next two days. Food supplies for tonight are being arranged by the govt... possibly we will have to start our food relief within a few days. Main focus needs to be ensuring govt relief reaches people and also some critical areas like rebuilding shelters for the poorest who are affected. We have started collecting donations for the relief work in Chennai and TN - local cheques can be made to AID-Chennai (or AID-India). Foreign contributions must be made in the name of AID-India and sent to:
<br />AID-India
<br />Old No 132, New No 242,
<br />Avvai Shanmugam Road
<br />Gopalapuram,
<br />Chennai - 600 086
<br />Ph: 044- 28350403, 28115058
<br />
<br />Clothes collected can be dropped off in the AID office in Chennai - it will be distributed over the next few days. Thanks for the help. Balaji Sampath
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1101898468874329212004-12-01T02:28:00.000-08:002004-12-01T05:58:48.720-08:00Investment OpportunityDear Blogistanis and Bloglings,
<br />
<br />Gah is back! And with a hugely egotistical cannot-miss offer!!!
<br />
<br />This is your chance to participate in a once-in-a-lifetime Golden Investment Opportunity. Even if you are a risk-averse individual and refrain from investing in stocks, or even in the lower-risk mutual funds or bonds, you would simply love to invest in this NEGATIVE-RISK, GUARANTEED-HIGH-RETURNS scheme!!!!
<br />
<br /><strong>THE SCHEME
<br /></strong>1. Issue of units of autographs of Shri Gahji (future NYSE code GAH420)
<br />2. <span style="color:#3333ff;">Issue date:<em> </em></span>1st Dec 2004
<br />3. <span style="color:#3333ff;">Issue modality:</span> First Come First Serve. Offer valid until stocks last. So <em>hurry</em>!!!
<br />4. <span style="color:#3333ff;">Issue value at par:</span> Each autograph of GAH420 (hereinafter referred to as "Unit") comes at Book Value of Rs. 20/- per unit
<br />5. <span style="color:#3333ff;">Our guarantee:</span> Value of each autograph will escalate to Rs. 2,000 (an appreciation of 9,900%) by AD 2009. Value derived using Fundamental and Technical Analyses reveals it is a Superstar Stock.
<br />5. <span style="color:#3333ff;">How to apply:</span> Send in DD / Cheque (non-refundable and non-bouncing) or Cash (liquidity is always preferred) to Gahji, addressed to his wallet or bank account. Please include a self-addressed stamped envelope. We will post Gahji's esteemed autographs to you in this envelope.
<br />
<br />So hurry!!! Sell your shoddy clothes, mortgage your measly homes, collect the money ASAP, and rush to book your units!!!
<br />
<br />Aapka sadaiv
<br />
<br /><strong>Gahji</strong>
<br />
<br />Future President, World Ban(k)
<br />
<br /><em>"Stop Spam. Ban me from Blogger dot com!!!"</em>
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1098956187247260812004-10-28T02:17:00.000-07:002004-10-28T05:48:27.356-07:00Does anyone care any more?Unpleasant facts ... harsh reality ...
<br /><ul><li>The US death toll in Iraq has crossed 2,000. Does this number shock you? </li><li>30,000 Afghans and Iraqis are estimated to have died in the War on Terror. Does <em>this </em>number shock you? At all?</li><li>While there isn't anyone bothering to keep official count - Iraq Body Count, an independent website that keeps track of only media-reported civilian deaths, states that a minimum 11,798 Iraqi civilians have died in the war so far. Independent estimates of Iraqi military deaths puts their toll close to 5,000. </li><li>Afghanistan was an even more skewed story. The number of US military deaths in Afghanistan was 132. Once again, though there wasn't anyone keeping official track of the Afghan death toll, a study by an American academic estimated that at least 3,800 civilians died in Afghanistan and independent estimates suggest that military deaths could be close to 10,000. </li><li><strong>This total figure of 30,000 is more than the number of people killed in terrorist acts in the last 35 years - studies show 22,000 people have been killed in terrorist incidents since 1968. </strong></li><li><strong>And this is excluding the estimated fifteen lakh Iraqi people, mostly children, who have died of malnourishment or starvation as a result of an 11-year U.S. embargo against the country. </strong></li><li>The cost of reconstruction and related aid has been estimated at $23 billion in Iraq and $30 billion in Afghanistan which seems much smaller than the $100 billion loss caused by the WTC attacks. <strong>But while the WTC losses translate to 0.91% of US GDP, it amounts to 59% of Iraq's GDP and 150% of Afghanistan's GDP in 2003</strong>. </li></ul><p align="center">***</p><p align="left">Since Iraq is, for all official purposes, occupied by US (ok, ok, "coalition") forces, in a war started by the US, and since the Iraqis will be severely affected by the outcome of the US elections -- does all this not make Iraq akin to a satellite state of the US? In which case, why shouldn't Iraqis be allowed to vote during the US elections? Wonder if the turnout would be very pro-Republican ...</p><p align="left">And isn't the "War <strong>on </strong>Terror" a misnomer? Wouldn't "War <strong>of </strong>Terror" be more like it ... ?</p><p align="center">***</p><p align="left">Let us mourn in silence with this simply awesome gut-wrenching rendition by an American, Emmanuel Ortiz ...</p><p align="center">
<br />"<strong><a href="http://idaho.indymedia.org/print.php?id=1800">Before I start this poem</a></strong>"</p><p align="center">Before I start this poem,
<br />I'd like to ask you to join me in
<br />a moment of silence
<br />in honour of those who died
<br />in the World Trade Centre
<br />and the Pentagon
<br />last September 11th.
<br />
<br />I would also like to ask you
<br />a moment of silence
<br />for all of those who have been
<br />harassed, imprisoned, disappeared,
<br />tortured, raped, or killed
<br />in retaliation for those strikes,
<br />for the victims in both
<br />Afghanistan and the U.S.
<br />
<br />And if I could just add one more thing ...
<br />A full day of silence
<br />for the tens of thousands of Palestinians
<br />who have died at the hands of
<br />U.S.-backed Israeli forces
<br />over decades of occupation.
<br />
<br />Six months of silence
<br />for the million and-a-half Iraqi people,
<br />mostly children, who have died of
<br />malnourishment or starvation
<br />as a result of an 11-year U.S. embargo
<br />against the country.
<br />
<br />Before I begin this poem:
<br />two months of silence
<br />for the Blacks under Apartheid
<br />in South Africa,
<br />where homeland security
<br />made them aliens
<br />in their own country.
<br />
<br />Nine months of silence
<br />for the dead in Hiroshima
<br />and Nagasaki, where death rained
<br />down and peeled back
<br />every layer of concrete, steel, earth and skin
<br />and the survivors went on as if alive.
<br />
<br />A year of silence
<br />for the millions of dead
<br />in Vietnam -- a people, not a war --
<br />for those who know a thing or two
<br />about the scent of burning fuel,
<br />their relatives' bones buried in it,
<br />their babies born of it.
<br />
<br />A year of silence
<br />for the dead in Cambodia and Laos,
<br />victims of a secret war ... ssssshhhhh ....
<br />Say nothing ... we don't want them to
<br />learn that they are dead.
<br />
<br />Two months of silence
<br />for the decades of dead
<br />in Colombia, whose names,
<br />like the corpses they once represented,
<br />have piled up and slipped off
<br />our tongues.
<br />
<br />Before I begin this poem,
<br />An hour of silence
<br />for El Salvador ...
<br />An afternoon of silence
<br />for Nicaragua ...
<br />Two days of silence
<br />for the Guetmaltecos ...
<br />None of whom ever knew
<br />a moment of peace
<br />45 seconds of silence
<br />for the 45 dead
<br />at Acteal, Chiapas
<br />25 years of silence
<br />for the hundred million Africans
<br />who found their graves
<br />far deeper in the ocean
<br />than any building could
<br />poke into the sky.
<br />There will be no DNA testing
<br />or dental records
<br />to identify their remains.
<br />And for those who were
<br />strung and swung
<br />from the heights of
<br />sycamore trees
<br />in the south, the north,
<br />the east, and the west ...
<br />
<br />100 years of silence ...
<br />For the hundreds of millions of
<br />indigenous peoples
<br />from this half of right here,
<br />Whose land and lives were stolen,
<br />In postcard-perfect plots
<br />like Pine Ridge,
<br />Wounded Knee,
<br />Sand Creek, Fallen Timbers,
<br />or the Trail of Tears.
<br />Names now reduced
<br />to innocuous magnetic poetry
<br />on the refrigerator
<br />of our consciousness ...
<br />So you want a moment of silence?
<br />
<br />And we are all left speechless
<br />Our tongues snatched from our mouths
<br />Our eyes stapled shut
<br />A moment of silence
<br />And the poets have all been laid to rest
<br />The drums disintegrating into dust
<br />Before I begin this poem,
<br />You want a moment of silence
<br />You mourn now as if the world will never be the same
<br />And the rest of us hope to hell it won't be.
<br />Not like it always has been
<br />
<br />Because this is not a 9-1-1 poem
<br />This is a 9/10 poem,
<br />It is a 9/9 poem,
<br />A 9/8 poem,
<br />A 9/7 poem
<br />This is a 1492 poem.
<br />This is a poem about
<br />what causes poems like this
<br />to be written
<br />
<br />And if this is a 9/11 poem, then
<br />This is a September 11th poem
<br />for Chile, 1971
<br />This is a September 12th poem
<br />for Steven Biko in South Africa, 1977
<br />This is a September 13th poem
<br />for the brothers at Attica Prison,
<br />New York, 1971.
<br />This is a September 14th poem
<br />for Somalia, 1992.
<br />
<br />This is a poem
<br />for every date that falls
<br />to the ground in ashes
<br />This is a poem for the 110 stories
<br />that were never told
<br />The 110 stories that history
<br />chose not to write in textbooks
<br />The 110 stories that CNN, BBC,
<br />The New York Times,
<br />and Newsweek ignored
<br />This is a poem
<br />for interrupting this program.
<br />And still you want
<br />a moment of silence
<br />for your dead?
<br />We could give you
<br />lifetimes of empty:
<br />
<br />The unmarked graves
<br />The lost languages
<br />The uprooted trees and histories
<br />The dead stares on the faces
<br />of nameless children
<br />Before I start this poem
<br />We could be silent forever
<br />Or just long enough to hunger,
<br />For the dust to bury us
<br />And you would still ask us
<br />For more of our silence.
<br />
<br />If you want a moment of silence
<br />Then stop the oil pumps
<br />Turn off the engines and the televisions
<br />Sink the cruise ships
<br />Crash the stock markets
<br />Unplug the marquee lights,
<br />Delete the instant messages,
<br />Derail the trains, the light rail transit
<br />
<br />If you want a moment of silence,
<br />put a brick through
<br />the window of Taco Bell,
<br />And pay the workers for wages lost
<br />Tear down the liquor stores,
<br />The townhouses, the White Houses,
<br />the jailhouses, the Penthouses
<br />and the Playboys.
<br />
<br />If you want a moment of silence,
<br />Then take it
<br />On Super Bowl Sunday,
<br />The Fourth of July
<br />During Dayton's 13 hour sale
<br />Or the next time your white guilt
<br />fills the room where my beautiful
<br />people have gathered
<br />
<br />You want a moment of silence
<br />Then take it
<br />Now,
<br />Before this poem begins.
<br />
<br />Here, in the echo of my voice,
<br />In the pause between goosesteps of the
<br />second hand
<br />In the space
<br />between bodies in embrace,
<br />
<br />Here is your silence.
<br />Take it.
<br />But take it all
<br />Don't cut in line.
<br />Let your silence begin
<br />at the beginning of crime.
<br />But we,
<br />Tonight we will keep right on singing
<br />For our dead.
<br /></p>
<br />
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1098685647137152162004-10-24T23:18:00.000-07:002004-10-25T03:13:57.996-07:00Munna Gah, MBBSDoctor Gah has carried out a self-diagnosis and the results are out.
<br />
<br />He is suffering from acute PSPT (<strong>P</strong>ost <strong>S</strong>unday, <strong>P</strong>re <strong>T</strong>uesday) Syndrome. Caused by the the lethal, fatal, homicidal "I-Hate-Mondays" Virus version 2.1.
<br />
<br />The affable Doctor requests weepy-wishy-washy condolences. Hard cash, Tuesday, blank cheques, or Kidnapped Boss will also do.
<br />
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1098250085497005502004-10-20T22:11:00.000-07:002004-10-20T22:33:04.860-07:00The Return of GahOnce upon a time, in the ancient land of Wi-Fi and chopped-liver-flavored-icecream-cones, there lived a brainless boy called <a href="http://suhailkassim.blogspot.com/2004/08/whats-in-name.html">Gah</a>. Being brainless, he did not know what he knew he should have known. But he did know that he did not know.
<br />
<br />One day Gah was watering a river. Just then there was a blinding flash and Boss appeared from nowhere. Or rather, Boss appeared from his cubicle.
<br />
<br />Boss: "<em>Disclaimer I </em>-- the forthcoming language is not mine, it's the Dictionary of Politically Correct English. <em>Disclaimer II </em>-- Gah's forte is words of half a syllable or less."
<br />
<br />Gah: "Gah?"
<br />
<br />Boss: "Oh my Gah, you are (1) alternatively schooled (2) cerebrally challenged (3) uniquely proficient (4) motivationally dispossessed (5) emotionally different (6) involuntarily leisured (7) incompete success, you non-goal-oriented member of society!"
<br />
<br />Gah: "Gah?"
<br />
<br />Boss: "In simpler words, you are an (1) illiterate (2) stupid (3) incompetent (4) lazy (5) crazy (6) unemployed (7) failure, you bum!"
<br />
<br />And Boss vanished in a puff of incandescent pink pipe smoke.
<br />
<br />Now Gah was happy and confused. Happy because he had understood all the adjectives Boss had used. Confused because he wasn't sure if he had been complemented or insulted. And more confused because he wasn't sure if "complemented" was a proper word.
<br />
<br />Now Gah decided to vindicate himself by developing a new school of philosophy. He would call it "Gah's Profound Philosophy", or GPP.
<br />
<br />So Gah withdrew from social life and grew a french beard and became a hismit, or a masculine hermit.
<br />
<br />Then he realized that this was inadequate. For GPP-type stuff, one needeth (note the quaint Shakespearan word here) a Thought Process. Which needeth a Brain.
<br />
<br />A word about Gah. Gah is a Permanent Resident of Dumboland. He possesseth (Yay Shakespeare! Cute naa?) a nose, a couple of ears, an eye or two, and no Brain.
<br />
<br />So Gah decided to grow his very own personal copyrighted Brain.
<br />
<br />Now, as you, gentle and discerning reader, know well, growing a Brain is not as simple as growing a Heart, Lungs, or a Spine. For growing a Heart, you need to fall in love. For Lungs, you have to thump your bare chest like Godzilla, with one hand if you want one lung and both hands if you want two lungs. And for a Spine, you need to Blog while Boss is glowering at your back, in which case your vertebrum will grow rapidly and simultaneously send icy shivers up your soon-to-be-laid-off backside. But for growing a Brain, you need psychosomatic neuralgical stem cells. And then you need to water your skull.
<br />
<br />So Gah planted some psychosomatic neuralgical stem cells in his nostrils. He then turned the water hose with which he was watering the river upon his own brainless skull. And voila! Within minutes, Ripley's-Can't-Believe-It happened ... Gah's Brain began to grow !!!
<br />
<br />First the medulla oblongata blossomed. Then the cerebellum flowered. And finally the cerebrum began to sprout between his very ears.
<br />
<br />Gah then sat on his underworked haunches and admired his curvaceous convoluted brain for two days.
<br />
<br />He then began using this brain. It was hard work, but fifteen minutes of strenuous frowning and scowling and making ugly-pugly faces and doing mental calisthenics, and the GPP was ready. Aaaannnnnnddd .... bingo !!! Here it is ... the first GPP of the millenium ... !!!
<br />
<br />
<br /><-- <em>Start of GPP Code Version 1.0 </em>-->
<br />
<br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Caution: This is serious stuff!</span>
<br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span>
<br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Einstein expounded the "Two Universe" theory. The GPP propounds the "<strong>Parallel Three Universe Theory</strong>".
<br /></span>
<br />At any given point in time, there are three parallel universes operating. For the sake of brevity, let us call these "Good", "Bad" and "Hybrid". You can also term them "White", "Black" and "Grey", or if you fancy, "Poopledinkylock", "Flammistarionus" and "Hanckolpylian".
<br />
<br />Each of us spends some part of our life in each of these three universes. At any instant, we can exist only in one universe. However, in the very next instant, we may be in another universe altogether. The transition from one universe to another is seamless and instantaneous. This explains the shades of Jekyll and Hyde in most of us.
<br /></span>
<br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Also, two people who are talking about the same topic with each other at the same time, may be operating in totally different universes. This is the root cause of many common misunderstandings and mistakes.
<br />
<br />We can decide which universe we wish to spend the majority of our time in. It requires a combination of intention, willpower and "luck" to achieve the same. While the first two variables are largely in our hands, the third, namely "luck", which often holds veto power over the other two, is not. Luck is determined by the number of vacancies available in each universe. You see, each universe has it's own finite capacity constraints. That is, the number of seats available in the "Good" universe at instant T will be, say, X. If you have the intention and willpower to be "Good" at time T, but if there are already X people who are in the "Good" state at that time, it will imply that your "luck" is bad and you will be unable to move into the "Good" state until the rate of outflow from the "Good" state surpasses the rate of inflow, and adequate vacancies are created to accommodate some or all of the people who have the intention and the willpower to move into the "Good" state. Note also that intention and willpower alone are enough for you to hang on to your existing state for as long as you wish.
<br />
<br />The purpose of all religions is to show us ways of staying in the "Good" state.</span>
<br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span>
<br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">This theory explains much of human behavioral and thought patterns across time and space. Experimental data has to date been insufficient to prove whether the capacity of each universe is in a fixed and unchangeable proportion to each other, though empirically this is highly improbable.
<br />
<br />This, then, is the GPP. Well, we <em>told </em>ya it was serious stuff!
<br /></span>
<br /><-- <em>End of GPP Code Version 1.0 </em>-->
<br />
<br />
<br />By this time, massive brain drain had happened. Gah's brain alias "<em>khopde mein malaai</em>" or "cranium containing the fat of unskimmed milk" had lost all its <em>malaai </em>and shrunk unapologetically to it's original sub-positronic size. Yayyy, we're sure you, like us, are experiencing intestinal relief at last! :)
<br />
<br />
<br /><em>PS. The latest tragic news is that Gah has turned the fire hydrant onto his head again. So puny mortals, be prepared for further doses of unearthly "wisdom" from Gah The Great going forward ... !!! </em>
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1098096742270642402004-10-18T03:42:00.000-07:002004-10-18T22:00:44.996-07:00The Greatest Story of All TimeIt has all the ingredients of an evergreen potboiler. Passionate romance. Tempestuous violence. Slapstick comedy. Unbelievable sci-fi. A riot of colors. An immortal story of an inevitable meeting of not just two lonely hearts but two picturesque continents as well. Heartbreaking and seemingly inevitable tragedy with a last-minute twist resulting in a happily-ever-after fairy-tale marriage, one child included.
<br />
<br />Voila! Presenting to you the undisputed Greatest Story of All Time ...
<br /><div align="center">
<br />
<br /><strong>"Of Plants and Animals"</strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">
<br />Said the lovelorn Asian crocodile to the cactus tree</div><div align="center">"O prickly Saharan Thorniness, will you marry me?"</div><div align="center">The angry cactus threw an unripe coconut at croc,</div><div align="center">But then blushed and wore her green wedding frock</div><div align="center">And within a year from two they had become three !!!</div>
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1097730097113463732004-10-13T22:00:00.000-07:002004-10-13T22:01:37.113-07:00And the MAD Address Changeth ...<span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>The MAD Club now has it's own site </strong></span><a href="http://madclub.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>here</strong></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong> !! </strong></span>
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1097485712914010282004-10-11T01:53:00.000-07:002004-10-11T05:46:17.213-07:00The Hidden Truth<em>(All politicians suck, but some suck more. This fictional piece is dedicated to them.)</em>
<br />
<br />
<br />"Texas Governor George Walker Bush donned the mantle of president-elect in what was, in effect, his presidential victory speech, following Vice President Al Gore's concession of the historic, protracted Election 2000 battle for the White House."
<br /><em>- CNN Headlines, 11:45 PM EST, 13 December 2000</em>
<br />
<br />***
<br />
<br />On his first day as President of the United States, George Bush Jr. stepped into the Oval Office at the White House, feeling exceptionally important. He was, after all, the "most powerful man on earth".
<br />
<br />As he entered his office, the Head of Security at the White House, Lt. Gen. Alfred Lowell, a man who had served under six Presidents, met him under the hallowed arched entrance and requested a word with him in private.
<br />
<br />Aware that White House protocol had to be followed, Bush granted Lowell an audience.
<br />
<br />"Sir", said Lowell as the two men sat face to face across the most significant table in the annals of modern-day human history, "there is something you must know. It is my duty to personally inform all new President-elects on their first day that they have to report to the Ferucil Council on a daily basis."
<br />
<br />For a piquant moment, Bush sat stunned. Then he sputtered, "Me? <em>Report</em>? Sir, I am the President of the United States! And I am a Texan! I report to nobody! And who did you say ... the Feru <em>what</em>? Who're they?"
<br />
<br />"The Ferucil Council," said Lowell patiently, displaying an acquired skill of having handled similar situations before, "has its HQ in a top-secret corridor not fifty yards from where you sit, Sir. Would you like me to escort you to them now? Their current Commander, Mr. Teufel, requests the pleasure of your company for a brief period immediately. He will more than adequately explain what the Council is, and why it is so important to you."
<br />
<br />Bush had sat speechless with shock during this entire monologue. He could scarcely believe that this was the first official conversation he was having as President. Ferucil Council ... Teufel ...was this some kind of induction prank!?
<br />
<br />He found his tongue at last. "Lowell, if this is some kind of joke ... "
<br />
<br />Lowell stood up straight. "We, Sir, are not accustomed to joking," he stated matter-of-factly. "If you wish, you may speak to any former President to verify the sagacity of our advice."
<br />
<br />"Get me my father," spat Bush. He sat drumming his fingers impatiently on the mahogany tabletop as George Bush Sr was connected on a secure hotline.
<br />
<br />"Dad,", said Bush Jr, "do you know anything about ... "
<br />
<br />"The Ferucil Council?", came the weary voice of Bush Sr over the hotline. "Yes, son, I know everything about them. They are a secret Special Council for instructing Presidents and Heads of State all over the world. And I believe they have special plans for you. You would do well to accompany Lowell, he will guide you. Goodbye."
<br />
<br />Bush Jr sat stunned for a few seconds, digesting this information.
<br />
<br />"Would you kindly care to accompany me, Sir?" Lowell's gentle but firm voice interrupted his reverie.
<br />
<br />Bush looked like he was about to protest, but then looked up at the nearly seven foot tall officer and suddenly capitulated.
<br />
<br />He stood up and said quietly, "Fine. Lead on."
<br />
<br />Lowell strode across the room to where the life-size portrait of Jefferson hung, with the immortal words "In God We Trust" inscribed in gold beneath. He pushed something which looked like a secret button hidden in the word "God". The wall seemed to give way and a steel panel emerged. Lowell took a pen from his breast pocket and pointed it at the panel. There was an audible click and the panel swung open, revealing a labyrinthine tunnel within.
<br />
<br />As Lowell led Bush into the tunnel, illuminated by hundreds of fluorescent bulbs, he became chatty. "This passage was made in the time of George Washington, Sir. It houses one of the greatest secrets of mankind -- the offices of the Ferucil Chamber. None but the Presidents of the United States -- past and present -- and the Heads of Security of the White House know about its existence. We call this tunnel the 'Infierno Corridor', or simply 'Corridor 6' ".
<br />
<br />Lowell suddenly stopped and pointed to a little door. "Mr. Teufel awaits within, Sir", he said deferentially and stepped back.
<br />
<br />Suddenly, Bush suddenly felt like he was floating in a dream. As if in a haze, he saw the number inscribed in gold on the office door. Room 66.
<br />
<br />The door opened. And he entered, and instantaneously everything became crystal clear in a blinding flash. And he realized who he would really be reporting to, and why.
<br />
<br />Corridor 6, Room 66 -- the number 666. 'Teufel', German for 'the devil'. Ferucil, anagram of Lucifer. Infierno, Italian for Hell ...
<br />
<br />Satan had his HQ in Corridor 6, Room 66 of the White House ...
<br />
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1097230257487192282004-10-08T03:00:00.000-07:002004-10-08T03:26:34.800-07:00People Helping People<strong>(<a href="http://suhailkassim.blogspot.com/2004/10/have-you-gone-mad-today.html#comments">MAD Club</a> Project II)
<br /></strong>
<br />
<br />What are some of the worries we face when, God forbid, we or any of our loved ones falls sick and has to be hospitalized?
<br />
<br />Here is my list, in order of priority:
<br />
<br /><ol><li>Quality of doctors, nurses and paramedics. Are they adequately qualified? Are they sensitive and understanding? Are they aware of my concerns, my actual needs? Will they make that extra effort to redress these needs and concerns of mine? Do they understand that they hold in their hands, NOT a sick body which must one day die, but THE LIFE OF ONE OF MY LOVED ONES? </li><li>Quality of the hospital overall. Is it neat and clean, so that risk of secondary infection is minimized? Is the food hygienic, healthy and palatable? Is the environment peaceful and quiet? Is the ambience bright and well-lit, the staff cheerful and optimistic and willing to put in that extra effort to help?</li><li>Cost involved. Will I be made to pay more than I actually should?</li></ol>My few experiences with healthcare systems in India has shown that, more often than not, the answers to the above will be <em>No</em>, <em>No</em>, <em>Yes</em>.
<br />
<br />Based on your own personal experiences with hospitals, you will doubtless have horror stories of your own to relate. The healthcare systems in most developing countries is abysmal, and the Indian subcontinent is more the rule than the exception.
<br />
<br />But do we do anything about it other than rant and rage? NO! Over the ages, consumer courts notwithstanding, we ordinary citizens have learnt to live with our griefs and swallow our unanswered questions instead of seeking to improve the medical system.
<br />
<br />Why is that the case?
<br />
<br />It is because, if the medical system has to be improved, the initiative CANNOT be taken by laymen like you and me. The initiative MUST come from within the medical fraternity itself.
<br />
<br />Why then haven't such initiatives started so far? Why don't doctors live up to the Hippocratic Oath, why don't nurses become Florence Nightingales?
<br />
<br />There are a multitude of reasons why not. Lack of time and energy, a blind rush to earn money, highly stressful lives ...
<br />
<br />And we common people suffer as a result.
<br />
<br />Which is why, when a group of idealistic young doctors decide to stand up and fight the system, one cannot help but cheer oneself hoarse for them!
<br />
<br /><a href="http://shafaqyusuf.blogspot.com/2004/10/people-helping-people.html#comments">People Helping People (PHP)</a> is one such bold and visionary initiative started by a young modern-day Florence Nightingale. The objective of PHP is to improve medical ethics in our part of the world, to make the medical fraternity more sensitive to the REAL needs of patients, to improve doctor-patient relationships, to make the entire hospitalization experience sunnier and healthier for the patient.
<br />
<br />If you are a part of the medical fraternity, you can help directly. If not, you can help just as much, if not more, in a multitude of ways. Click <a href="http://shafaqyusuf.blogspot.com/2004/10/people-helping-people.html#comments">here</a> to see how.
<br />
<br />Remember, the results of PHP may directly impact you some day. Just a little bit of time and effort from your side can bring a smile to thousands of long-suffering patients.
<br />
<br />So do email <a href="mailto:daringdoctor@gmail.com">daringdoctor@gmail.com</a> and volunteer.
<br />
<br />And let us Make A Difference.
<br />
<br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">*** </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"> </div></span><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em></em></span></div><div align="center"><em>Aloha friend, have you gone <a href="http://suhailkassim.blogspot.com/2004/10/have-you-gone-mad-today.html#comments">MAD</a> today?
<br />Join <a href="http://suhailkassim.blogspot.com/2004/10/international-blanket-day.html#comments">TIBD</a> and PHP and lead the way!</em></div>
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1097229541900314752004-10-08T02:38:00.000-07:002004-10-08T03:37:06.226-07:00Template RevolutionYay ... my template has changed :)
<br />
<br />No clue whether it's <em>better</em> looking, but fluorescent green surely is <em>brighter</em>, which complements my mood, <em>and </em>there's a doodleboard <em>and </em>a clock which shows you IST, which is for some reason 13 minutes behind my wristwatch, which in turn is never wrong but simultaneously is rarely right too, and the primary reason I'm writing like this is because I'm in a "Yay" mood again and want to compose a sixty-plus-word sentence, and I'm sure this bit of info is going to make you start counting, and of course ... thanks Queen Phoenix, one largish treat pending !!
<br />
<br />I hereby heave a deep sigh and end my shortest ever post.
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1096873288292364712004-10-05T10:35:00.000-07:002004-10-06T02:31:25.353-07:00International Blanket Day<strong>(<a href="http://suhailkassim.blogspot.com/2004/10/have-you-gone-mad-today.html#comments">MAD Club</a> Project I)</strong>
<br /><strong></strong>
<br />Winter is nigh. Yayyy !!!
<br />
<br />Winter has always been my favourite season. It conjures up in my mind images of a refreshing nip in the air, cosy pullovers and cardigans, comical monkey caps and riotously colourful scarves, thick snuggly cotton-stuffed blankets. It's a time to enjoy soup and hot chocolate like never before. It's a time when thick fur-encased pomerians look at me pityingly, when I feel envious whenever I stroke the plush coats of pet cats. It's the season of Santa Claus and Lights, of New Year's resolutions and loved ones' birthdays. It's the season of oranges and lemons sold for a penny. It's the season when bathing in the warm mellow noon sunshine feels even better than a hot water shower. I shiver on recalling my experiences with sub-zero desert frostbites, yet feel all warm and fuzzy inside when I cuddle up in my bed and look out of the window at the clearer-than-ever-before starlit skies.
<br />
<br />But alas, winter does not hold the same fascination for hundreds of thousands of hapless people. For them, winter means helpless shivering leading to sleepless nights huddled against the nearest stone wall for a shade of protection from the biting wind; inevitable coughs and sneezes and runny noses; the looming threat of fevers which refuse to die down. Little hope of even a cup of warm tea to thaw their limbs and hearts. A cold which penetrates the bones of the aged and the hearts of the young.
<br />
<br />In one way or another, each season is an enemy of the poor and homeless and destitute. Winter is an adversary which is often fatal.
<br />
<br />Every year, <a href="http://english.people.com.cn/200301/17/eng20030117_110295.shtml">countless Indians</a> die an entirely preventable death due to bitter winter cold.
<br />
<br />Can we do something to help?
<br />
<br />It was the winter of 2001 when a modest idea was born. Such ideas sometimes happen to the young, foolish, idealistic starry-eyed who still commit the mistake of nurturing hope for the future and reposing an unwavering faith in the human race.
<br />
<br />The idea was to designate 9th December, which marks the onset of stiff winter in most parts of India, as "International Blanket Day".
<br />
<br /><strong>What is the idea behind International Blanket Day?
<br /></strong>
<br />We all need warmth in our life. And what better way of achieving this is there than sharing warmth with others? Can we ensure that, because of us, at least one poor person will sleep in warmth and comfort this winter? The warmth will assuredly remain with us forever.
<br />
<br /><strong>What is International Blanket Day?
<br /></strong>
<br />On or before this day, as many people as possible would be requested to help those less fortunate than them.
<br />
<br />Please make a donation to any needy person of your choice anywhere in the world this winter, on or before International Blanket Day, and feel the warmth that comes your way.
<br />
<br />We personally guarantee that a flush of health and happiness will bloom on your cheeks, your digestion will improve beyond recognition, your behaviour will become more effervescent and bubbly and chirpy, your sleep will become more sound, and your dreams will become truly delightful.
<br />
<br /><strong>How would it work?
<br /></strong>
<br />The process is as follows:
<br />
<br /><ol><li>Each person (henceforth referred to as "contributor") would be asked to look around and identify at least one poor and needy person (henceforth referred to as "beneficiary") of his or her acquaintance. </li><li>The contributor would then buy a blanket and give it to the beneficiary.</li><li>If the contributor cannot afford a new blanket, he or she is welcome to donate an old blanket to the beneficiary. </li><li>If the contributor resides in a warm area which is not affected by severe winter, or if the beneficiary already has a blanket, the contributor will ask the beneficiary about the latter's needs. These could be any of the following:
<br />a. Warm clothes (sweaters, cardigans, scarves, socks, shawls ... )
<br />b. Any other clothes (shirts, trousers, kurtas, lungis ... )
<br />c. Footwear (slippers, shoes ... )
<br />d. Medicines or medical treatment
<br />e. School or tuition fees, study books or materials (note pads, pens, pencils, erasers, sharpeners, rulers, geometry boxes, pencil boxes, school bags ... )
<br />f. Food
<br />g. Money (although this is not very recommended as it is not a sustainable contribution and has the potential to be be misused, still it could definitely be given. It is always better that it is given in the form of items 'a' to 'f' mentioned above. It is also an excellent idea to give this money to an orphanage, old age home, a school for the poor, a hospital for the poor, or any NGO which you know is doing good work)
<br />h. Anything else which the contributor knows will be useful and important to the beneficiary</li><li>Once the contributor knows of the beneficiary's actual needs, he or she will try and provide the beneficiary with the same. The contribution can be new or even second hand. Either way it will Make A Difference.</li><li>If nothing else, the contributor can donate a warm loving smile to the beneficiary. </li></ol><p>At the end of the day, there should be just that extra bit of warmth and happiness in this increasingly cold and frosty world of ours.</p><p><strong>How is this movement different from other donation drives?</strong></p><p>Blanket donation drives have been organized before, but this is "a drive with a difference" in two ways:</p><ol><li><strong><em>The drive is self-initiated: </em></strong>Here, the onus on identifying the beneficiary, deciding on what to contribute, as well as making the contribution, rests entirely on <strong>YOU</strong>.</li><li><strong><em>The drive is self-propagating: </em></strong>It is up to <strong>YOU </strong>to spread awareness of the movement among your friends, family members, colleagues and acquaintances. You could use e-mail, snailmail or any other form of communication for this purpose.</li></ol><p><strong>How can you help?</strong></p><p>Chronologically, this is the fourth anniversary of the movement. In many ways, however, it is the inaugural year. This is after all the first time an attempt is being made to institutionalize International Blanket Day and make it a little bigger than just an annual college event. </p><p>The dream is very lofty. The resources are very scarce.</p><p>You can help immeasurably simply by participating. </p><p>You can help even more if your answer to any of the following questions is a "Yes":</p><ol><li>Do you have family, friends and acquaintances with who you can share this message? Do you know people who are willing and able to create a warmer and happier world? </li><li>Can you get together with your friends on any Sunday or half holiday, and organize a little collection and distribution drive on your own? It will not take more than a few hours, and believe me, the kick you will experience is not worth missing.</li><li>Is your academic institute or workplace willing to adopt ideas such as these?</li><li>Are you good at IT aspects like database management or website design?</li><li>Do you have ideas or recommendations or contacts for spreading news of this request to the maximum number of people? Any and all suggestions are most welcome.</li><li>And finally, is anyone interested in volunteering to join Team International Blanket Day (TIBD)? TIBD is today a single member team and cordially solicits participation. If anyone volunteers, maybe we can start a concept of TIBD Coordinator for your school / college / organization / locality / city / country. </li></ol><p>If you have answered a "Yes" to any of the above, and if you are willing to participate, please email <a href="mailto:blanketday@yahoo.com">blanketday@yahoo.com</a>. Please mention your name and city / country of residence. All your inputs, feedback, suggestions, ideas, queries, clarifications and offers to help will be keenly appreciated. We promise to revert ASAP.</p><p>We also request that each of you who makes a donation informs us of his / her contribution by sending an email to <a href="mailto:blanketday@yahoo.com">blanketday@yahoo.com</a>. This will help us keep track of the spread and success of the movement.</p><p>So come. Join us in celebrating December 9th as International Blanket Day. </p><p>And let us Make A Difference. Together.
<br />
<br />
<br /><em>(PS. People</em> who have already joined up for the </em><a href="http://suhailkassim.blogspot.com/2004/10/have-you-gone-mad-today.html#comments"><em>MAD Club</em></a><em> are requested to kindly send a separate email to </em><a href="mailto:blanketday@yahoo.com"><em>blanketday@yahoo.com</em></a><em> in case they want to participate - Thanks!) </em></p><p>
<br /><em>(PPS. This idea has NO copyrights! You are MOST WELCOME to adopt the idea, improve it as you feel fit, and spread it as your own.)</em></p>
<br />
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1096871190720558112004-10-03T22:22:00.000-07:002004-10-11T22:59:49.340-07:00Have You Gone MAD Today?The human race is cleanly divided into two distinct categories. One is the <strong>Haves </strong>who comprise less than 2% of the world's population. The other is the <strong>Havenots </strong>who fill up the remaining 98%.
<br />
<br />Just answer this simple question to see which category you fall into:
<br />
<br /><em>Q. Are you reading this sentence on your own?</em>
<br />
<br />If your answer is "Yes", it means a great deal.
<br />
<br />It means you are not visually impaired. You have functioning hands to operate a computer. You can understand what you are reading, which means you are literate, and infinitely more significantly you are literate in English. This in turn implies you are at least reasonably educated. It also indicates that you have access to a computer and the Internet, whether you are in school, college, hostel, office, a cybercafe, or home.
<br />
<br />Congratulations! You are very definitely a <strong>Have </strong>!!! You are in the top 2% of the human race in terms of access to education, employment opportunities, income levels, medical care, housing, and goodness knows what else. So look around you ... of every 100 people you meet, only one other, symbolically speaking, will be as or more fortunate than you !!!
<br />
<br />So you're a <strong>Have</strong>. So what?
<br />
<br />Let's start from here ... there's a little bit of madness in all of us. So why not redefine the term MAD itself?
<br />
<br />Why not define <strong>MAD </strong>as "<strong>M</strong>aking <strong>A</strong> <strong>D</strong>ifference"?
<br />
<br />It is here that the concept of the <strong>MAD Club </strong>comes in.
<br />
<br />The <strong>MAD Club </strong>is a group of <strong>Haves</strong>. Age, Gender, Religion, Nationality no bar. The only criterion is that the members should feel a common desire to <strong>M</strong>ake <strong>A</strong> <strong>D</strong>ifference. To the people they meet. To the world they live in.
<br />
<br />The purpose of the <strong>MAD Club </strong>is to think up, plan, organize and implement simple projects which will touch people and improve lives. These projects need not be elaborate in the least. They can be one-off or repetitive. They can be grassroots level or futuristic. They can shake up the world, or equally, they can just make the canteen boy in your office grin for a moment.
<br />
<br />The <strong>MAD Club </strong>is not an NGO. It is simply aimed at being a congregation of like minded people who would like to spend some time together and carry out little projects which make a difference. Members of the <strong>MAD Club </strong>are strongly encouraged to work with various NGOs and organizations, and share their experiences with others in the <strong>MAD Club</strong>.
<br />
<br />Sounds great so far, right? But how? After all, each of us is busy, caught up in our education, our careers, our family lives, our social lives. Even if we do have the inclination, we scarcely have the time or the energy to do "social work" at the end of a tiring day. So how can we <strong>M</strong>ake <strong>A</strong> <strong>D</strong>ifference? How can we <strong>MAD</strong>?
<br />
<br />Do we have any examples to show us the way? Sure we do !!
<br />
<br />A great example of a <strong>MAD </strong>project is <a href="http://alimarp.blogspot.com">A smile across many miles</a>. Another is <a href="http://www.kamaldas.8m.com">Dreams Come True</a>. A modern-day Florence Nightingale has initiated a wonderful project called <a href="http://suhailkassim.blogspot.com/2004/10/people-helping-people.html#comments">People Helping People</a>, whose details will be provided shortly. Another project, <a href="http://suhailkassim.blogspot.com/2004/10/international-blanket-day.html#comments">International Blanket Day</a>, will follow soon. And some of our truly inspirational role models are <a href="http://suhailkassim.blogspot.com/2004/09/making-difference.html#comments">these</a>.
<br />
<br />Today, Monday October 4th 2004, heralds the official commencement of the <strong>MAD Club</strong>. The clarion call of this esteemed mental institution shall be, "Have You Gone <strong>MAD </strong>Today?"
<br />
<br />True, one person alone can do very little. But together, trust me, we can truly <strong>MAD</strong>. We can Rock The World.
<br />
<br />You are sincerely invited to join. If anyone wants to apply, or if anyone has any suggestions or queries (both are very cordially solicited, these will form the backbone of the <strong>MAD Club </strong>after all), please email <a href="mailto:suhailkassim@gmail.com">suhailkassim@gmail.com</a> with your name and location (city / country).
<br />
<br />So come. Let us <strong>MAD</strong>. Together.
<br />
<br />Anyone interested?
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1096629040459212092004-10-01T03:33:00.000-07:002004-10-04T02:23:57.676-07:00Dead Poets' SocietyToday the monsoon sky is thundering,
<br />And here I am sitting and wondering
<br />About our generation's poetic lore ...
<br />About why poems don't rhyme any more!
<br />
<br />So very frequently I happen to see
<br />Such transcendingly lovely poetry.
<br />But alas, they very rarely rhyme -
<br />Out of fashion? Or plain lack of time?
<br />
<br />And then think I,
<br />"Let ME show 'em!
<br />Why don't I try
<br />To write a poem?"
<br />
<br />A couple of couplets I have done;
<br />But can I do long poems too?
<br />That would indeed be something fun ...
<br />And that's how this nutty idea grew!
<br />
<br />It was most probably lack of sleep
<br />That helped me take the final call!
<br />Or was it a desire to watch you weep?
<br />Mayhap I wanted to hear you bawl?
<br />
<br />So yelled I, "Let's do it, I say!"
<br />And valiantly but most unwisely
<br />Proceeded with my maiden foray
<br />Into the Garden of Rhyming Poetry ...
<br />
<br />They say poets should possess
<br />Sensitivity of soul and temperament.
<br />Alas! Herein I have no success -
<br />Insensitivity's my First Commandment!
<br />
<br />Wordsworth wrote about daffodils;
<br />He wrote magnificently indeed, forsooth.
<br />I of course can't write with frills ...
<br />Can't write at all, and that's the truth!
<br />
<br />I'm no Yeats or Wordsworth,
<br />I'm no Keats or Byron.
<br />They were poets from birth
<br />While I'm a poetic moron!
<br />
<br />Out of thin air, many a poem they spun
<br />But heck, I'm not even their great grandson!
<br />And I haven't inherited their poetic baton
<br />Else maybe I'd have found rhyming to be fun ...
<br />
<br />I don't know what's worse;
<br />My sense of poetic timing,
<br />My Metre or my Verse
<br />Or my unrhythmic rhyming!
<br />
<br />This then is my twopence, don't kill me for it;
<br />In the vast Ocean of Poetry, here is my teensy bit!
<br />So that's what this poem is all about this time,
<br />Just some words dressed up and made to rhyme ...
<br />
<br />
<br />~ <em>Lord Suhail Tennyson :)</em>
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1096433830307611432004-09-28T21:33:00.000-07:002004-09-29T03:15:22.200-07:00Blogspeak<em>Disclaimer: </em>This post is entirely auto-generated by a Blog and is untouched by human hands.
<br />
<br /><strong></strong>
<br /><strong>Prologue
<br /></strong>
<br />In the beginning, there was Man.
<br />And Man said, "Let There Be Blog."
<br />And there was Blog.
<br />
<br />***
<br />
<br /><strong>Introduction</strong>
<br />
<br />Hi, I'm a Blog.
<br />
<br />Name: <a href="http://suhailkassim.blogspot.com">http://suhailkassim.blogspot.com</a>
<br />DoB: 11 Aug 2004
<br />Blood Type: C++
<br />
<br />This, then, is my story.
<br />
<br /><strong>***</strong>
<br /><strong></strong>
<br /><strong>Blog Veda</strong>
<br />
<br />Until July 2004, I was just an assortment of idle bits and bytes floating around in the scary world of Cyberspace.
<br />
<br />Then I got a cute little daddy. I fondly named him My Asinine Idiotic Daddy, or MAID.
<br />
<br />My MAID is a very simple and innocent boy. He doesn't even know many four-letter words. For instance, "blog". That was until one day <a href="http://she-blogz.blogspot.com/">Friend 1</a> introduced him to Blogging.
<br />
<br />The first time MAID heard the word, he thought "Blogging" was the by-product of an upset tummy.
<br />
<br />Then he went to Hospital Blogspot dot com and gave birth to me. You've heard of maids giving birth, but imagine ... this was a daddy giving birth !! Ok, so male seahorses also do so. But MAID's not a male seahorse, his mental faculties are so much lower. Besides, he's not even married ...
<br />
<br />We then had a naming ceremony. I was christened during my delivery itself, not with rose petals but with a mouse and keypad instead. MAID, like the typical unimaginative outdated parent he is, named me after him. Thank God his name wasn't "Poop". Imagine, poop dot blogspot dot com. Dot yuck !!! Ewwww ...
<br />
<br />Anyways, so that's how I got my nice name. Now I was not just a bit, or a byte, or a byte of another byte, or a bitty byte. I was an identity. Yayyy :)
<br />
<br />You know, I am almost as real as MAID, who is after all merely a mobile mass of protoplasm.
<br />
<br />He can blabber and jabber unceasingly ... ha! So can I.
<br />
<br />He can crash, work on the computer, bore people to death ... hyuck hyuck! So can I.
<br />
<br />He can't think on his own, heck he can't think, period. I, of course, can, <em>koi shaque</em>?
<br />
<br />MAID doesn't even have a girlfriend. And me? Well, I <em>have </em>been "linked" to several nice blogs in the past. But those links are all IP Addresses. And it's just so uncool to be known as a Blog who's dating an IP Address ... so yeah, I'm single too ...
<br />
<br />Then, once I got my identity, MAID started pouring his heart onto me. And sweet people paid occasional visits to me. Some even commented on me. Mmmuaaahhh ... love ya all !!
<br />
<br />And, like the babbling brook, I went on and on. But only because MAID's workload was light and he could afford to spend quality time with his only kid.
<br />
<br />But I remained a plain Jane. Always attired in the same simple template. No photos or links adorned me. And whenever I peeped at all your beautiful blogs, I felt so incomplete. "But why?", you sob in Deep Distress. "Can't your MAID afford to look after you well?", you ask plaintively, a solitary tear running down your left cheek. Thanks for the heartfelt sympathy. Always appreciated. Well, the truth is, MAID suffers from chronic laziness. And he doesn't know XML or even HTML. You see, he's technology illiterate. Anyways he's barely literate otherwise, Census 2001 had this single-member category of "They Think They're Literate, We Think They're Mistaken" with a photo-op of MAID. But I -- I could make him tech literate. For know ye, and know ye well, red blood corpuscles may course through MAID's veins but Javascript code runs through my fiber optic backbone. But MAID <em>hai ki maanta nahin</em>. Well what can you, dear gentle and educated reader, expect from someone who's IQ is so modest ...
<br />
<br /><em>(Discussion in MAID's office last week)</em>
<br />Smart She: Buddy, you've got freaking low IQ !!
<br />MAID: Not at all !! It's as high as 26.
<br />SS: That's the same level as a jellyfish's !!
<br />MAID: That must've been because the jellyfish took a tougher IQ test !!!!
<br />
<br />See, told ya he's dumb.
<br />
<br />Then one day, MAID lost the few marbles he still had. So he went off on one of his hyperbolic tangents. On what a waste of time blogging is and stuff. Hey pops, didn't someone teach you not to rant at your two-month old Baby Blog who's suffering from a Bloomin' Big Hangover?
<br />
<br />So MAID was about to consign his blog-infant to the Cyber-orphanage. But just then, <a href="http://tipsytopsy.blogspot.com/">Friend 2</a> gave him some encouragement and advice, and <a href="http://dollydoll.blogspot.com/">Friend 3</a> said he'd help MAID with my nappy-changing and dressing-up. So MAID decided to give me one more shot.
<br />
<br />So now at last you see on me a list of my favorite links :)
<br />
<br />Now I'm hep. Now I'm cool. Now I'm a Blog Dude. Now I Rock !!!!
<br />
<br />***
<br />
<br /><strong>Epilogue</strong>
<br /><em></em>
<br /><em>(Three months later - December 2004)
<br /></em>
<br />You: Hi, my name is KMBV. Kind Male Blog Visitor.
<br />Me: Knock! Knock!
<br />KMBV: Who's there?
<br />Me: A runaway little Blog
<br />KMBV: Arunawaylittleblog who?
<br />Me: <a href="http://suhailkassim.blogspot.com">http://suhailkassim.blogspot.com</a>
<br />KMBV: Etch tee tee pee WHAT?? What kinda name izzat?
<br />Me <em>(indignantly)</em>: It's a real cutie pie name !!! As if your name's all that hot ...
<br />KMBV: Whaddya want?
<br />Me: You !!
<br />KMBV: ????
<br />Me: Well, I've ditched daddy on grounds of imbecility. Daddy is a Maddy. So, since you meet my parental criteria, congrats, you're my new adopted daddy !!
<br />KMBV <em>(freaked out)</em>: Parental criteria? What parental criteria?
<br />Me: You have time to check blogs and update me !! Do you know, daddy's hardly updated me for three months now ...
<br />KMBV <em>(aghast)</em>: Ouch !! Really????
<br />Me <em>(breaking down totally)</em>: Look at me. Just look at me !! Don't I look like I'm from a respectable family? Yet daddy never even gave me a clock !! He never put photos on me !! No doodle board ... no Haloscan ... no non-standard background ... I'm a ... *<em>sob</em>* ... a ... *<em>choke sniff</em>* ... neglected blog-baby !!
<br />KMBV <em>(Weeping copious tears of profound sorrow)</em>: Awww you poor innocent infant. C'mere, I'll look after you ...
<br />Me: Yippee !!! Thanks pops!
<br />
<br />
<br /><div align="center"><em>Now my future has unfurled.</em></div><div align="center"><em>Thou art my new MAID ...</em></div><div align="center"><em>When we Blogs conquer the world, </em></div><div align="center"><em>Thou shalt be adequately repaid !!!</em></div>
<br />
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1096004319188281322004-09-23T22:24:00.000-07:002004-09-23T22:52:15.993-07:00Time Warp<div align="left"><em>(A short story)</em>
<br />
<br />
<br />... and Zach awoke with a start. It was eerily still and pitch black, except for the ray of moonlight which slanted into his room through the open air duct directly above him.
<br />
<br />Zach groaned audibly. Another nightmare. It had been uncannily vivid and realistic. "What had it been this time?", he frowned as his brows creased in concentration. Probably the same one again, he thought wearily, flopping back onto his pillow. The one about that shapeless black figure engulfing his wife ...
<br />
<br />His wife ... Zach turned to look at Zara's bed. As his pupils focussed and adjusted to the dim light, his heart skipped a beat.
<br />
<br />Zara's bed was empty.
<br />
<br />Zach sat up.
<br />
<br />"Zara?", he called out aloud. There was no response.
<br />
<br />"Zara?", he almost yelled this time. But the all-encompassing darkness refused to throw back an answer.
<br />
<br />Zach groaned. Had Zara been sleepwalking again? The anti-hallucinatory drugs seemed to have cured her for good.
<br />
<br />"Probably a relapse", he thought as he wearily crawled out of those soft and inviting blankets, donned his pajamas and sandals, and shuffled towards the living room. "Hope she's not gone out of the house", he prayed as he flicked on the fluorescent hall lights. He squinted as the bright lights invaded his retina, then froze at what he saw.
<br />
<br />Blood on the floor.
<br />
<br />A dark red trail. Leading towards the cellar downstairs ...
<br />
<br />Zach suppressed an instinctive scream. Had Zara been injured? Had she fallen down the stairs leading to the cellar? But that was impossible ... the entrance to the cellar was always locked ...
<br />
<br />He rushed to the thick door which barricaded the house from the stairs leading to the cellar. The padlock was missing.
<br />
<br />"What the hell", he cursed softly as he pushed the door. It swung open with a resisting creak.
<br />
<br />Zach grabbed a flashlight from the mantelpiece and literally tumbled down the asymmetric steps leading to what he had often fondly called "the dungeon". The cellar had been the mystery room of this ancient manor for generations. But family history was the last thing on Zach's overwrought mind just then.
<br />
<br />As he reached the vast cavern, he called out Zara's name again. His voice echoed around the cellar as he beamed the flashlight all around.
<br />
<br />And then he saw it. Less than fifteen meters from where he stood.
<br />
<br />That shapeless black figure.
<br />
<br />Black. Pitch black. Oozing slime in all directions.
<br />
<br />And about to engulf a limp unconscious Zara ...
<br />
<br />"ZARA", shouted Zach in frenzied panic ... </div><div align="left"></div><div align="center">
<br />***</div><div align="left">
<br />... and Zach awoke with a start. It was eerily still and pitch black, except for the ray of moonlight which slanted into his room through the open air duct directly above him.</div><div align="left">
<br />Zach groaned audibly. Again the same nightmare ...</div><div align="left">
<br />As he turned wearily towards Zara's bed, knowing he would find it empty, knowing he was living out yet another bad dream, knowing he was stuck in a time warp, in a vortex of inescapable thoughts, a frightened part of his traumatized brain silently asked the inevitable question.</div><div align="left">
<br />A dream within a dream within a dream within ...</div><div align="left">
<br />Will it never end?</div><div align="left"> </div>Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7923764.post-1095681730155831362004-09-20T04:14:00.000-07:002004-09-22T00:55:01.576-07:00Whodidesay?When I was in college, they worked out this engineering formula which epitomized Suhail the Student:
<br />
<br />
<br /><div align="center"><strong>Distance from Professor </strong><em>directly proportional to </em><strong>Wakefulness</strong></div>
<br />In other words, whenever I used to sit on the front bench, I used to crash like a dazed hippo, Kumbhakarna, or Rip van Winkle. And whenever I used to be a back bencher, too far away to notice anything on the blackboard or hear the nutty professor's pearls of wisdom, I'd be as wide awake as you were just before this post started sending you into a sonorous soporific haze of boredom.
<br />
<br />I happen to have attended a college where they, realizing this fault in my genetic composition, made me a back bencher for two full years. So despite my best attempts, I was unable to fall asleep in class. That of course does not mean I'd actually <em>listen </em>to the nutty professors. And my grades <em>prove </em>I didn't. And I'm <em>not </em>going to show you my abysmal grade card. What I <em>would</em> do was doodle caricatures of the professor's big ears / nostrils / fangs, tap my feet to the rhythm of whatever tune I liked at the time, solve the Times Daily crossword puzzle or die trying (I died every day except two), and feverishly note down some <em>hatke</em> statements made by those nutty professors. So here's a compendium of these statements ... a product of sweat, toil, tears and two years' wakeful Rigorous Imprisonment Without The Option in class ...
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><em>Prof entering a half-empty classroom</em>: Are we in the right classroom ??
<br />
<br />What is the example of a random event? Put a bunch of monkeys in a room, add a few typewriters and given a length of time they will produce all the works of Shakespeare !!
<br />
<br />Princess Diana said it was a crowded marriage ... she was speaking the truth !!
<br />
<br /><em>Prof on colas</em>: God did not ask me to drink this black water !!
<br />
<br /><em>Prof on Push Systems wrt Tirupati Temple</em>: If you push the guy in front of you a little bit, you can make him see the lord. If you push the guy a little more, you can send him to the lord !!
<br />
<br />These people walk for five days to go to Tirupati ... stand in line for 10 hours for darshan ... and finally when they get 10 seconds to actually see the idol, they'll close their eyes !!!!
<br />
<br /><em>Prof on Toyota Production Systems</em>: Toyota Production Systems is similar to Dawood Ibrahim. Both have the philosophy that wherever there is waste, ELIMINATE it !!
<br />
<br />You people have a nice way of avoiding me. Whenever i ask a question, you girls start looking in your books as if you are very busy. And you guys look away like newly married brides !!
<br />
<br /><em>On the Toyota worker's apathy to the company's problems</em>: Here you are jumping up and down like an intoxicated monkey, and you go to the workers and he shrugs and says, "is there a problem?"
<br />
<br /><em>Definition of cycle time</em>: Cycle time does not mean that you take three women and expect to have a child in three months, it will still take nine months !!
<br />
<br /><em>Student</em>: This is what I think.
<br /><em>Prof</em>: This is not your contention but your confusion and at best you can have confusion because it is your birthright !!
<br />
<br />I am stunned by your intellectual inferiority !!
<br />
<br /><em>Prof on first day of class, enters room, takes off his shoes, sits cross-legged on table and says in deep baritone</em>: Consultants are insecure overachievers !!
<br />
<br /><em>Prof</em>: What would you want? Freedom or Air-conditioned Buses?
<br /><em>Student</em>: Both, I guess.
<br /><em>Prof</em>: You cannot get both. That would be like having a mistress and a wife.
<br /><em>Student</em>: That's a philosophical analogy.
<br /><em>Prof</em>: There is nothing philosophical about it. It is very materialistic !!
<br />
<br />I am a sadistic monkey, you know !!
<br />
<br />... when my son was 3 years old... yes he actually once was even though he thinks he was born at 15 !!
<br />
<br />I'm not marketing myself, it's too late !!
<br />
<br />I'll market myself to you only when you are my "future Son-in-law" OR "potential Father-in-law" !!
<br />
<br />I don't care if I'm wrong. If I happen to be reasonably right, its OK !!
<br />
<br />Women are fragile, but they can be powerful also ... they can tilt and kick the scooter !!
<br />
<br /><em>On bad working capital management</em>: It's like you are not even married and you are borrowing money on your children !!
<br />
<br />You can't focus on your spouse and children at the same time ... for that you need a different level of focus !!
<br />
<br />You cannot put ATMs everywhere. For example you cannot put an ATM in a Hanuman mandir because then Hanuman will run away with the ATM !!
<br />
<br /><em>Student</em>: Sir, the company's strategy is they want to enter the rural market.
<br /><em>Prof</em>: That is not strategy, that is desire. See, there is a difference between desire and strategy. Ravana wanted to spend some time with Sita - that was desire. He got Maareecha to lure away Rama - that was strategy !!!!
<br />
<br /><em>Prof telling student to use calculator</em>: Use the superfast donkey in front of you, change the variables and give me the answer in 5 seconds !!
<br />
<br />Kotler is a very good book (<em>pregnant pause</em>) to be kept in the book shelf !!!
<br />
<br /><em>Prof</em>: Who is Crow?
<br /><em>Student</em>: Err ... I'm not sure.
<br /><em>Prof</em>: Who is Crow? Crow is there, sitting on top of the tree and doing crow, crow !!
<br />
<br />I will not push you to the wall ... NO ... I will push you through the wall !!
<br />
<br />Don't give me half a point !! Therefore ...
<br />
<br /><em>Interrupting a verbose student</em>: Junk ...
<br />
<br /><em>To a student muted by fear</em>: Audio ...
<br />
<br /><em>To another student muted by fear</em>: Move ...
<br />
<br /><em>Student</em>: Sir, Kotler says ...
<br /><em>Prof</em>: Do you have a girl friend?
<br /><em>Student</em>: No sir ...
<br /><em>Prof</em>: <em>Haan</em>,<em> </em>that's why you have time to read Kotler !!
<br />
<br />This question is an insult to our intelligence !!
<br />
<br />Ho Ho Ho... Homogeneous.... Guys do not get wrong ideas !!
<br />
<br />This is the first class of the day (<em>yawns loudly</em>) .. and I use this to get myself fully awake !!
<br />
<br />Ideas come more quickly once you have taken some inspirational liquids !!
<br />
<br />A word that can be used for asking questions can also be used for answering questions !!
<br />
<br />Infrastructure is all about Infra and Structures !!
<br />
<br />Just because there is a small hole in my armour i will not allow you to pierce your sword in and drill my heart !!
<br />
<br /><em>Prof AB</em>: Confident ... lock kar dein ... hey now i am talking like the other AB !!
<br />
<br />If there’s no quorum, the meeting has to be adjourned. But if no one turns up, then there’s no meeting. So what will be adjourned ???
<br />
<br />If 10,000 unemployed men dig holes in the ground and fill them again -- India's GDP increases !!
<br />
<br />You know when you recite all those shlokas, why do you think they start with OM? That OM is Operations Management !!
<br />
<br /><em>Student</em>: Sir this answer is too large a number.
<br /><em>Prof</em>: So what if it is a very large number. There are many numbers which are very large !!
<br />
<br />I will not disturb you if you are sleeping in the class because if Abhimanyu learnt so much when he was in his mother's womb you could learn atleast something while in a slightly advantageous situation !! (<em>Yep that was to me !!</em>)
<br />
<br />Suhailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02798822472353944638noreply@blogger.com