Sunday, 22 September 2013

Frugal on Gadgetry!

Long before the present times, India was a land comprising of Luddites and jabbers who found nothing to gape on technology but were happy to live in their own closets with their own reveries. And to careen this aplomb and bring about a change to the way people perceive technology and its wonderful manifestations, came the television. Irrespective of the paucity of television programs, people bought TVs just because they saw one in their neighbor's living room and although there wasn't much to savor apart from Krishi Darshan to whom not a lot of urbane crowds could have related to, they still relished the amazement of watching a remote field come alive. The world has seen a plethora of technological revolutions in the past 50 or so years and palpably Indians have largely being receptive of them. There lies a section of nobles who can acquire any gadget at the snap of their fingers, courtesy of the opulence which was either endowed to them or because they were worthy enough to garner it. Then there lies a section which can still manage to buy a gadget by making the requisite arrangements via connivance or deception but is a little too apprehensive to indulge in these heinous and odious acts to acquire the capital. And finally, we have a category which is still content with what it has and would be the least likely of candidates to go for a gadget and then smolder every single time it falls or gets a scratch. I'm concerned about the second category to which I myself belong.

I have never tried to be a poseur of resurgence or never tried to be a renegade but as it turns out, I always find myself in a category which not a lot of people would even consider to exist. Whatever it may be, I consider it my utmost responsibility to unveil the mysterious presence of this sect and promulgate it to the rest of the world. So we as a community of a modicum of people, aren't really the kind of gadget critics you find on other weblogs and television channels and internet communities, but we still have something smothering us and keeping us from truly accepting these gadgets. We simply do not allow ourselves to be as pliable as others when it comes to allowing the cherubic devices with demoniac price tags to dominate our thought process. We seem a little plaintive with our outdated gadgets and are even considered supercilious and outcasts, but in reality, we are vehemently scrutinizing the veracity of these devices, their applicability in our case and their price tags before giving them a nod. So we are often lost in a stage where we are giving due consideration to going for a gadget but are at the same point of time making sure that the device is not one which makes you cast aspersions on the device company for the rest of your lives. The bottom line is, we consume a little too much time in this thought process and you know what happens by the time we've subsided the vacillation and have zeroed in on say, buying a gadget. It's already outdated.

So, as it turns out, we are not able to parry the trade off between our craving for meticulous cost benefit analysis and the rapidly evolving technologies. Now given the fact that some of the gadgets have become a desiderata of our lives, we just have to get a version of theirs no matter how specious it seems. We acquire a version which does not have the appeal of the high end products which we were giving a thought to buy but the version is viable enough to suffice for the originally intended purpose. What is palpable, of course, is that we are a little too parsimonious and niggardly in the way we look at gadgets. This is where the stereotypical superciliousness gets associated with us. We further exacerbate the situation by tarrying on to these devices because we simply get a little too associated with them. Moreover, these devices serve our primordial purpose as long as we haven't really made up our minds. What ensues is a vicious cycle where we are stuck between deciding upon devices, buying a device that pays off for the time being, and then consider buying the device from the next suite of gadgets, and we eventually end up buying another ad hoc device to keep us going. This phenomenon which resides because of some lobe in the brain which has an avidity for quibbling can be aptly termed as hyberpecugadgetrybudgetryovershooteryphobia and suitable references to the same could be found on the roads where there is only one person whose gadget looks different from the rest who are walking along with him. Eventually these guys end up in the first or the third segment and their existence in their original segment is largely dependent on their experiences during being in that phase. Some guys make enough money to buy a new house or a Mini Cooper whereas others get enough to spend on 2 more girl friends. However, some others do not have that memorable experiences because they are literally scowled and gloated upon by others for not adhering to what are considered as sacrosanct social norms. The segments maintain their percentages and even though perpetrators of massive ad agencies who are hired to market these high end products try to ripe off our segment via a massive advertising genocide, they fail to consider the fact that the world will always have its dose of rebellions and rebels go down but never go down without a good fight. There's no fate but what we make!

Wednesday, 18 September 2013

What else to ask for ?

So on this pristine morning when I once again woke up out of a lovely dream wherein I was dating with a cherubic aphrodisiac, I was once again perplexed by the vagaries of human emotion and volition. Ever imagined how much a man dreams to achieve,accomplish and acquire ? Ever wondered what sins he is ready to commit to simply garner what he assumes to be his desiderata ? Ever thought over how many times he enacts as a poseur and pretentious player to make it appear that he has got all what he wanted to get ? Man is a very strange being, always engulfed by tangles created by no one but himself, always bothered by considerations beyond his control and always worried about a future that he is not even capable of envisaging. No matter what, his pedantic knowledge,his consummate virtue, his exorbitant intellectual prowess or his ruffian attitude when he doesn't make it, all of them reflect a web of a surfeit of virtual entities which weaves for himself. A man is a social animal so he is bound to quibble or bound to be worried but worrying on the most paltry of restraints is what makes a man plaintive, preposterous and perjury.

A man always has some options to resort to in order to get out of this vicious cycle. He can choose to smolder for the rest of his life trying to assert control over factors which even in his dreams shall remain evasive. Or he can choose to take the other way and transcend beyond the mere realms and bounds of mainstream living. Or he can also choose to live a life where he is not chasing a tangible proposition but a vicarious aim. Irrespective of what way a man chooses to live, he either lives long enough to see his erstwhile whimsical dreams become a flummoxing reality or he lives long enough to digest aspersions from a slew of critics.What ensues post the completion of a man's struggle may be different but what comprises his battle has a very inherent element which is responsible for him tarrying and lingering for it. It's what he conjures to possess if he triumphs. It's what he believes to be the very purpose of his existence. It's is what he assumes to belie all the malefactors of his life and all the deterrents of his path. It's nothing else but what he wants to have in his kitty by doing all that he is doing.

So, I thought that courtesy of me being a callow with a modicum of uniformity on my blog, why not employ the venturesome element on doing something inquisitive. So ladies and gentlemen, here's presenting a list of things a man wants to have before he witnesses his reminisce turning into ashes on a pyre. The list is by no means comprehensive - had to include this as it's considered a quintessential element of healthy writing ! So as I was saying, the list is only suggestive and additions and appropriate alterations to the content present herein shall be entertained if one has a surfeit of evidence or reasoning backing the veracity of their argument. Also, the list is always going to differ from person to person. For me, nothing matters more than the dream of being a gourmand whose culinary expenses are paid by the other gal on the table. But that may not be the pinnacle dream for a lot of people out there.Hence, within these notions and considerations, here's presenting the initial part of the list which may culminate into a complete version if I'm able to maintain this rare impetus.

1. Being a sinecure  

So, who doesn't want this? A job where you get to do nothing but just give orders irrespective of what could be the ramifications of orders being given by a cretin. A job where your monetary aspects are of more importance to your employer than to you. Why ? Because you're considered what they call "indomitable". You are not replaceable. Your division or business will fall into pieces in your absence. Your prowess and adroitness are unquestionable and any meddlesome element in your workplace shall be eliminated at the snap of your fingers. You are consecrated and sanctified not only because of what you have achieved(no one even bothers to check it as everyone believes in history), but because you have this enormous proclivity of making people believe that you are the answer to their problems. You are not doing anything or executing anything but you carry the aura and persona of a man whose very presence is considered to be a benediction. No amount of grandiloquence is enough to appraise you. People work just because they have you with them and they meet the targets quarter after quarter. You aren't really doing anything but without you the entire thing will be in tatters. What you get in return of this irrevocable aplomb in your organization is a paycheck that has more zeroes than you can keep hold of. You're paid for your eloquence, your yesteryear's achievements which no one bothers to verify, and for the very endowment of being with the organization. You're paid, revered, coveted, talked about with the highest degree of respect and all this for doing nothing literally. Yeah Baby !

2. Termination of meddlesome entities

And before you can even plan of executing something comprehensive, there is this guy who comes in from somewhere. He not only intervenes and obliterates your plans of indulging in a reverie of thoughts that would lead to something transformational, he also makes sure you plan his extermination after he has left the scene. Such a shame that your involvement in contract killings attracts such a gargantuan penalty in India. You've no option but to elope away or to witness these lunatics even scavenging the leftover thoughts you may have. And above all, they believe their contribution was egalitarian. They consider themselves to be the ombudsman of a society that has paucity of intellect.And eventually, all your futile anathemas go in vain. Well, how badly I wish there was a secret brotherhood working for the constant demolition of this mighty community of imbeciles. 

2 down, maybe more 8 or 10 to go. As I plunge into this drive of eliciting the dream prospects of every man's life, I look deeper and deeper into the tribulations and ordeals of many a man's life. We are living in a world that is ruled by demagogues, run by banters, and monitored by surreptitious people with undulating ulterior motives. Life is not as simple as it may seem but I as a man am here to palliate your predicament a little bit. For who will help you, if not someone from your own fraternity. There is no fate but what we make !

Monday, 2 September 2013

Your next mission should you choose to accept it...

Mr X lives the banal life of your next door neighbor and your next cubicle executive. A usual plaintive expression with a dolorous morning greeting symbolizes a cult of pretension and parsimony around him. He appears to be staunch but placid. He seems to be a little too bothered about his success and one who never, not even once, tends to overlook his professional commitments to cater to a personal volition. Perfect compliance with company policy in terms of dress code and etiquette. A faithful chaperon to upper executives, a blue eyed boy to the conventional corporate chauvinists and a nugget to his contemporary counterparts. He always seems to be more of a machine. Set schedules, set amounts, no distinctiveness. Can a man's life be so vapid, so succinct and so certain.

As the dusk sets in on Saturday, Mr X drives his boisterous sedan back to his home, the sedan looks pretty incongruous on him. Or apparently even a second hand hatchback would have sufficed. Nevertheless, set schedules followed on the drive as well. Desperate traffic policemen could have issued anathemas to this man for being such a conformist of traffic rules when every other regular passerby at the stretch had at least 2 challans conferred to them. But not to be with X. X was impeccably careful about what he did. By a predetermined time, he was back at home. The sedan in the garage, the man inside, shower goes on and goes off/ A few moments later, kitchen lights go on and then the whole house blacks out.

A silhouette appears of a man holding some stuff. The man disappears towards the ventral side. A garage door churns open. But wasn't the garage door supposed to be in the front from where the sedan went in ? A light goes on, goes off, then a very strong light goes on and begins to drift sideways, into the driveway and now appearing to be coming towards the front. And before you could contemplate, its two of them. Two gargantuan beams shredding past the cornea and the beast zips past, wafting all the leaves and grasses in an undulatory rhythm.

The man who gave a modicum of smirk on a 10 lac increment in annual salary now smiled like a beast. Not your usual man anymore. Hair's all disheveled, clothing elegance has all gone for a toss, and the speed of the vehicle has now the least respect for the signboards. As Mr X drifts past the sturdy machine across the final milestone before a bifurcation, he slows down and takes the road which was rendered desolate years ago, courtesy of rumors of it being too weak a structure to travel on, when you're travelling right on the edge of a steep and high hill. Without any second thoughts, Mr X takes it.

The grin now turns into a complete smile. No providence in what's being done, no trace of any sanity in decision making. Driving at 110 Kmph on what the locals call the "Parallel Junk", not even once does X get any fears on the idea of traveling not on a road, but on bits and pieces of gravel held by the tipsy topsy hill surface. The adrenaline has started coming in installments. With the destination just a few moments away, X can't stop retrospecting the surfeit of elation he experienced when he completed this journey the last time. The same risk of toppling down every time, the same joy of succeeding yet again. And indeed, yet again Mr X and his prudent companion, his mechanical wonder. complete the journey as they stride into a narrow nascent pathway. The disconsolate guy is now brimming with energy. With amazing celerity, the vehicle moves into the narrow pathway. It's 11 in the night and it's so dark that this pathways can be termed as a black hole in its own right

As Mr X drives past the pathway again, he witnesses the same impediments to what one should assume to be a journey. An ordeal it's gonna be. Rocks, crests, spikes, dwells, leavened gravel, boggy clay, and a slwe of other hindrances to swallow you and your vehicle. But X, being the most venturesome of guys, just has to take the risk yet again. As the accelerator is floored and the machine beams forward, the rocks seem to ineffective, the boggy clay subsides, the gravel retreats, the spikes get demolished and as X leaves the stretch, it looks like a different place altogether.

And now comes the final road before X reaches what he's been looking to reach for the last 200 minutes of his drive. What would have been an fanatical and largely conjured odyssey for the layman, was a routine that X followed biweekly. Yes, this was more than just a journey for X. It's a desideratum. It's the fuel X seeks to invigorate his body and revitalize himself. Who would have believed that the office robot was in reality a maniac. But X knew the rules of the game. He knew the sedan would have been a reminiscent containing a few bits of metal and glass by now had he brought it to this part of the world. That's why he brought the most erudite and pristine thing he ever possessed. The most immaculate vehicle you're ever likely to possess.

As X ventures into the final road before the destination, he holds himself tight for now the two will take a plunge into a 40 degree vertical steep. The bossy vehicle gains speed and rolls down. But it was not a hassle. The movement seemed more like a hymn, or a verse maybe. And so did X feel as he was present inside this beastly machine. Amidst the bumps on the steep were some seriously large stones which X parried off with the whip of a movement on the ultra responsive steering. And reeling through, X and his partner finally reached the base of the cliff with their final attainment just a few miles away. What seemed like giving an adieu to yourself and your vehicle of course, seemed to be no more trepidation inducing than say, mery go round.

As X reaches there, he steps out of his tenacious machine - one whose appearance suggested that it was driving on a luscious grand prix track for the last few hours. Except for the few stains of mud, there was no blemish on the expedition machine. X brought out a large camping baggage from the boot of his vehicle and set it up. When he was ensured that the tent is properly set up, he went inside the vehicle, reclined the seat and slept under the tent. Actually the tent simply covered the vehicle, given the vehicle too merited that importance.

It's 6 in the morning and X didn't realize his somnambulatory faculties till the time he finds a splash of ater waking him up while he stands beside a water body. Soon he regains control and as he looks across the horizon, yet again he witnesses the spectacle he cherishes more than anything else. In front of X was the most resplendent thing you're ever likely to witness. A large mammoth of a mountain is covered with verdant pastures and graceful brown patches stands next to a massive stretch of river flowing at an exorbitant pace and the search for the river's immediate source culminates in a huge towering waterfall that looks like a colossus of a water source. The three of the most rewarding scenes synergized into the most exuberant of things to see, feel and sense. It was above imagination, it was nature's ,magic.

And just when you thought X's foraying into enigmatic avenues has ended, he walks back to the boot space and talks out three bulky bags and kits. Opens one of them. It includes a huge rope and clamps and pivots and what not. He keeps aside the other bags and fixes the ropes steadily on the hook of his vehicle. He gears himself in athletic outfits with the best in class equipment including everything from grip shoes to gloves to a costume that more or less resembles that of a cyclist. And when the stage is set, The heavy duty vehicle is driven to a suitable place and X starts rappling down the waterfall. As he ushers past the ferocious and voracious waters, he looks as if he's living a life for the sake of doing just the same thing. Then he followed this with a mountain climbing exercise wherein he yet again used his vehicle to hold the ropes. HE had a fair share of bruises and cuts and all kinds of orifices but he finally managed to nudge back. And now was the turn for plunging into the waters. The depth was less but the  flow was too high. Finally X decided that the river simply has to be crossed. But even with all the equipment he had, it was too imbecile a thing to even think of. But the river just had toe be crossed. And just then, the mighty machine came to the rescue again. This time, the time for ropes was over. X entered the vehicle and drove it across the river.

Throughout the day, Sunday it was, X didn't consume even a bit of anything apart from the natural ingredients that made their way to his stomach as he braced himself against the mighty adventures of the nature. X drove back his faithful companion back to the garage, ardently wiped out all traces of dust and dirt and as he walked past it towards the garage door, he moved to the front to touch the symbol of perfection - The T that not only stood for trust, but for providing tranquil in torrid tempestial times. It literally titillated him. And as he walked back, he looked at the quintessential and celebrated rear of the vehicle articulating the message - Tata Safari. As X walked back to office again on Monday, he yet again resumed his common roles and responsibilities. The same appreciations, the same grapevines, the same circumlocution, the same formal mannerism. But no one, simply no one except f or X himself knew what was going inside his hefty head. No one knew that behind the bulwarks of this office what he was actually looking for something else. And no one but X and his Tata Safari knew that he was waiting for the next Saturday to arrive soon. Mr X is no one but me, Mr X is no one but you. Redeem your life, now!