Confluence

East and West.
Europe and Asia.
Islam and Christendom.
Capitalism and Communism.
Old grace and new hope.

Byzantium. Constantinople. Istanbul.

Am I welcome?

Tape

I need a Certificate of Legal Capacity to Marry from the Indian Embassy in Manila. So, I need to submit a few documents before attending an interview with my fiance and she has to submit a few documents.

These documents include, but are not limited to:
- An affidavit from me saying I am single, attested by a lawyer in Singapore, endorsed by the Indian Embassy in Singapore. For this, I need to submit an oath from my parents taken in a court of law in Chennai confirming I am single, attested by a notary in Chennai, endorsed by the Indian Embassy in Singapore. For these, I need to appear at the Indian Embassy in Singapore, just five times, queueing up for a total of 4 hours. I stopped counting the dollars and rupees.
- A letter from my employer stating that I am a Singapore resident, gainfully employed.

I also need a letter from a religious authority in Chennai that confirms I am a Hindu Brahmin. In secular India, nobody is willing to do this, without the appropriate connections and a suitable fee.

And, this is just the beginning.

Somebody has just dropped a roll of tape. Red.

Luck

Today, I signed up for the Borders lucky draw. They have put up a list of books online and ask you to vote for your favorite book. The top 100 choices will be announced. One lucky winner gets a full set of these 100 most popular titles.

That's a piece of luck, I just would not mind.

(Catcher in the Rye, J D Salinger, by the way)

Waste

These posters were up for a week, maybe. A real waste, it would seem, but for the few mouths that got fed putting them up and taking them down. In fact, I walked through this underpass at least three times, and just don't remember what the posters were about.

Flash

2009 is half gone. Just like that.

Disappointment

The colours of disappointment:



She was supposed to be here. Oh, well. This is what disappointment feels like, I guess.

I had so much to say when I started. But, the sheer triviality of the rule that has ruined this weekend for us leaves me without a word. She must be feeling much worse.

The worst part about this is that when you feel bad, and the other person feels bad, and it is nobody's fault, a hug makes everything go away. But, this whole thing is about the hug that was not to be. We find ourselves 1500 miles apart. She did not have six months on her passport, when we asked for four days together.

Oh, well.

Confession

I woke up. I realised I was actually pleased to find out that the Pakistanis had become ICC World T20 champions. Cricinfo glorified it as a comeback from all the mishaps that Pakistan has been suffering as a nation. Initially, I put my reaction down to the equation that if the Pakistanis have won, the South Africans have not won and the Australians have not won. That is a strange concept. As strange as thanking the Pakistani people for being the ones caught in the crapshoot with the Taliban mullahs, such that the Indian people may be spared a little.

Then I went back a little bit. 1992. Then again, I was surprised by my satisfaction at Pakistan's eventual triumph. I was not carried away by Imran's charismatic captaincy. Perhaps, I felt Aloo did not deserve to be on the losing side after those two amazing innings against New Zealand. Perhaps, I was relieved that the English did not get away with dubiously conspiring against Brian McMillan, with the help of the rain-gods. Why did I not feel revulsion when the sworn enemy triumphed where we did not?

Steven Pinker says if you put a group of people in the same room for long enough, they'll eventually find themselves in two opposing groups. Or something to that effect. Is that what happened prior to 1947? Like those occasions when you arrive in your hotel room, your reservation says king-size bed, and you find in front of you, two single beds with the obstinate bedstand right in the lane. Was it a bit like that then? That is surely trivialising the catharsis of Partition, the wars that have been fought and the lives that have been lost.

Sachin Tendulkar and Waqar Younis were career debutantes in the same match. Imagine. Not having had to choose between Lightning and Thunderbolt. Blasphemy, some would say. Wishful thinking, I insist.

Accomplishment

Was on a train from Changi Airport. Somewhere around Kallang station, heard about Ultimatum by Matthew Glass. Stepped out at Bugis on an impulse. Picked up a copy at Kinokuniya.

Decent read. Gentle reminder of the magnitude of Aaron Sorkin's accomplishment with The West Wing.

Falafel

Choice

I read another blog today. Let us say:

I wake up in a clearing in the middle of an infinite thicket that extends to the horizon in every direction. I have no clue how I got here. Does it matter? I do not know which way to head. I do not know if there is an end to the green, a way out to this end, and if I will ever find this way out. I wonder what I will find outside. If it will even be worth it.

There is only one thing I can do. I need to pick a direction. I need to find the means to hack through the brush, clearing enough to let me take one step at a time. Once in a while, the hacking won't work. I shift a little and hack again. I make progress, if that means anything. Sometimes, that's the best I can hope for.

I have to hack. Without a care for where I am heading. For now. I have to stand up. I have to tell myself that if I reach behind my back, I will find a sickle, miraculously tucked away just for this. I will not find out until I raise my hand.

I have to do it now. Or, the curiosity will drive me nuts.

Anyway. Take a break. Viet Nam. Cheap flights. I will go. July 25-26 or August 22-23.

Wanderlust

2008

Jan: New Zealand
Feb: Manila, Bangkok
Mar: Chennai
May: Kuala Lumpur, Shanghai
Jun: Bali
Sep: Manila, Kuala Lumpur
Nov: Kuala Lumpur, Chennai, New Delhi, Agra
Dec: Manila

2009

Jan: Manila
Apr: Chennai
May: Manila
Jun: Kuala Lumpur
Jul: Turkey
Planning: Tioman, Manila, Queensland

Sated?!

Milestone

Reached a symbolic personal financial milestone today. It has taken almost six years. But, it has happened.

Evidence

Homemade hummus, mint chutney and garlic toast




Tastes as good as it looks. And, I love how the blog has moved beyond text.

Those who helped by chopping mint/coriander and by gifting me the cookbook - you know who you are - thanks.

Disclaimer: Pictures taken on old Canon IXUS 55, not new Canon EOS 500D

Vista

Signs of Life

A. Appleby. Brown and Red. I've seen the bloglights flicker back to life. Keep them lit.

Happybee. Welcome to this world.

I B. I follow keenly.

Others. Why not give it a try?

Pain

So. Now, I have a new camera. I have always been trigger-happy. But, I never expected my pictures to be spectacular.

I have been grazing through online photo galleries for a few days. Some pictures have had a certain effect on me. I will try to explain.

I take pictures with my camera. I download them to my Mac. I look at them. I wonder why they are so empty, meaningless and uninteresting. I lose interest in my own pictures and move on to online pastures. I see a picture or a whole gallery of pictures that grabs my attention. Slaps me on the face. Tugs at something deep within me. Makes me despair. I resign to the thought that I will never create a picture that will have the same effect on me.

I've known that there is no artist in me. That I'll always be poorer for that. I don't know if I have felt so strongly about it before. I mean, I've walked through a full day of Rembrandt vs Caravaggio at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. I admired, but I barely flinched.

Maybe, the difference is that I now have the tool in my hands. Is the pain from knowing what masters can do with a tool, which is as good as lifeless in my own hands? The way I'll enjoy a well-written book, but will pull out my hair when I place a QWERTY and a blank screen in front of me. This time, it's real. And, worse. I can almost cry. The eyes tear from not seeing.

The technical details are straight enough. Aperture. Shutter speed. ISO speed. Exposure compensation. Dynamic range. Give me enough time and I'll have a gold medal to show for it. That's not the point.

A creativity void. A composition jinx. An abundance of mediocrity.

As always, there is hope. "Twelve significant photographs in any one year is a good crop.", said Ansel Adams. I'll settle for one. Watch this space.

Distance

I was reading a friend's blog. I don't know if she knows that I follow her blog.

I could feel her pain in being so far away from her loved one. In fact, I know the loved one. More than I know her.

I know that pain. I have been through it myself. And, I want to tell her that in the end, it will be alright.

Maybe I will tell her. When I meet her and her loved one when my loved one is here too.

Dammit. I should use names.

But, that won't be fun, ha?

Imagine

I like this guy's simple idea:

Guy

Idea

Informed Opinion

I see some sense in concentrating CO2 emissions. Managing CO2 afterwards might be easier - applying economic penalties, testing new technology for power generation, expanding renewable share of the power generation base, capturing CO2,... The electricity grid offers just that option, naturally with some limitations.

In a way, hydrogen was supposed to do just the same thing for us.

Imagine... You are on a long and lonely highway. Maybe in the Cappadocian valley. Your indicator shows you are low on fuel. You seek out the next service station (preferably the one with the yellow pecten). A robot opens up your car's bonnet, lifts out the compact battery pack, drops a replacement pack in its place and off you go.

He has imagined. He is 41.

After TED 2007:

"Indeed I was so anonymous, that a young Google employee told me at one of the dinner events after a conversation on the world of software that “You are pretty good. Would probably make a good manager at Google, maybe even a VP” and offered to put in a good word for me. Given that I was the president of products at SAP at that time, I guess she meant it as a compliment, somehow."

Doors

I take the train everyday. During peak hours, there is a mad rush on the platform. Kia-su passengers try to force their way in, even as alighting passengers rush to get out.

At the above-ground stations, passengers step across the yellow lines and muscle their way as close to the edge of the platform as possible, as soon as they sight the arriving train. This becomes particularly dangerous for passengers at the head of the boarding queue - who might not be as afraid of losing, as of losing their lives under the wheels of the train - when they get pushed forward to the edge. A handful of passengers have regrettably lost their lives this way.

The powers-that-be quickly decided that it was time to recruit some hapless old screaming uncles who would yell at every passenger who ever dared step across the yellow line, while lining up their own frail uniformed bodies between the mass of afraid-to-lose passengers and the greedy open abyss behind. This morning, I even saw one of those uniformed uncles (who once complimented me on my Bose QC3 while we both waited for the train) preside over and brief a bevy of yellers-to-be, now smartly bedecked in fluorescent jackets.

I've always wondered (on those long train rides, assuming I get INTO the train and not UNDER) when the powers-that-be would take the natural next step...

Not to worry. Coming soon to an above-ground station near you... Platform screen doors.

From today's TODAY:

"The Land Transport Authority has plans to install platform screen doors at all 36 above-ground stations by 2012. Work to install the 1.5m-tall doors at Pasir Ris, Jurong East and Yishun stations will be completed by this year."

By then, the recession might be long gone, and the yelling uncle, who'll surely lose his job, will just become a statistic on the economy's way back up.

Meanwhile, stay safe and thank uncle.

Survival Aloo

Guys, try this. It is too simple. Your moms probably never told you how easy it was.

Boil 4-5 medium potatoes for about 25 mins. Drain and peel as soon as they are cool enough to hold. Mash in a bowl with a ladle or fingers.

Chop 2 medium onions. Add a few mustard seeds to two tablespoons of oil and heat until the seeds burst. Stir fry the onions. Dice one medium tomato and add to the onions with small amount of water. Add turmeric, cumin seed powder, coriander seed powder, garam masala and asafoetida to taste. Stir until gravy has a fine consistency.

Add mashed potato and some water to make it easy to stir. Keep stirring until all ingredients are well-mixed. Add a finely chopped red chilli and one teaspoon of salt. Stir for five minutes.

Cook until all the water is gone. Serve with chapatis.

Images

My feeble first attempts on my new Canon Digital SLR.

Google Ads

I just finished reading Barack Obama's speech to the Muslim world in Cairo, on Telegraph.co.uk.

The first Google Ad at the bottom of the speech:

"Meet Muslim Ladies
Beautiful Muslim Women Seeking Men for Love & Marriage. Join Free Now!"

Nice.