Four (Five)

Doctor

Atwa 149

John

John stands here corrected
John is not alive
John never died
John came forward
And backed out
John was searched
John was found
But John wasn’t there
They made him
John said nothing
They saved him
John said nothing
They betrayed him
John said nothing.
John still stands
John says nothing.
John moves not
John thinks not
John breathes
John lives not.
John hides
John fears
John bothers
John cares not
But John lives.
John does nothing
John can’t
So John says
So John says
So John says.

Plagiarism in Design

The best part about design is if a designer sees another design and likes it, well likes it enough to copy it, it could be called inspiration and not copied.

Normally this goes unnoticed because the copied object has been derived subtly or has been taken from a different source like car design from nature or fashion design or the human body. But what if the copier and the copied both hail from Industrial Design. Is it still inspiration or has the line been crossed into blatant plagiarism. One guaranteed argument will be Appropriation in Post Modernism. But that argument would only hold for art and not design/mass produced design. Design is that thin red line that separates appropriation from plagiarism. Jeremy Clarkson defined art during the review of the Alfa Romeo 8C Competizione as, "for something to be art it can have no other purpose than itself". Mass produced design isn't art ergo its not appropriation but is it copied? On the left we have designs by Dieter Rams, designer for Braun in the 50s and 60s and on the right we have Jonathan Ive's designs for Apple.

तीन चेहरे भारत के (3 faces of India)

Randomly scourging through my fridge, I saw a reddish reflection at the back of the fridge. The distinctive bottle shape and vintage logo proudly proclaimed its name. I had some and to my surprise its taste hadn't changed one bit. Put too much and its too sweet for Indian tongues, put too less and its almost bitter. But its still available. Roohafza, a concentrated drink made from herbs, fruits, vegetables, flowers and roots as Wikipedia describes it, is as Indian as it gets. Yesterday, I had it after 15 years.

Channel surfing, I came across Madventures on Discovery channel. Riku and Tunna are in Varanasi for the Magh Mela. They are allowed to film a supposedly secret ritual that Aghoris perform. An Aghori dances around like a madman oblivious to the people around him and his surroundings. He jumps over fire. Catches a hen. Rips its head off and drinks its blood. He offers it to Riku who also has some. Riku and Tunna then get out of there as the completion of the pooja brings with it bad forces.

Google News was full of headlines about Shashi Tharoor, our former Minister for External affairs with declared assets between Rs 15 to 23 crores, depending on the exchange rate applied to convert his US dollars, Canadian dollars, Euros and UAE Dirhams. When appointed head of the public affairs division in the UN headquarters in New York, he moved his girlfriend to the office next to him. Tharoor is also alleged to have sent an sms to the journalist Karan Thapar with abusive language after he interviewed Farooq Abdullah . His sms read "I've...seen yr grilling of Farooq, putting words in his mouth & I've just realized what a sh... u (you) r (are). Pls don't call me again." KC Singh, former secretary in the external affairs ministry, who had watched him from close quarters as he coordinated Tharoor's campaign as India’s candidate for UN secretary-general in 2006, remarked, “He is a narcissist, totally in love with himself and his image.”

Right before sleeping, I realise I don't get to choose the India I want to remember. There are firangs who have washed their sins in the Ganga which I still have to do, pseudo firangs who lead my country and certain things that India has always had and won't ever change. All I am assured of is its conflicting nature and organised chaos that probably will survive all of the three above. Ciao, I mean Namaste.

Summer of 2010

Its 31 degrees C in my city with 43% humidity. I write this is in my boxers bcoz its genuinely too hot to wear clothes. And its 2:21am.

Yes, 2:21am and tht temperature. Somehow, the weather gods are mad at my city. In the day the temperature is anywhr between 40-46 degrees C with 25% humidity and at nite its 30-36 degrees C with humidity goin upto 90% almost every other nite. This means that there is no respite from the heat and ur hot 24/7. Best part is that this isnt even peak summer, thts 15 days away.

Now common sense would suggest ceiling fan on high and/or an air conditioner shud solve that. Well, the fan works but hot air circulation has it side effects.

My 12am - 7am look

So why not put the AC on dude? Well I can't. In a sheer act of brilliance I hired morons to install it for me. They turned up on Wednesday to inspect the wires and AC's location and stuff. Then on Thursday the electrician finished the wiring bits, the carpenter fixed the place where it was to be installed and the AC guys got the machine ready. So Thursday nite I am ready to sleep in a room which I may or may not cool down to 18 Degrees C. I step into the room. Look at the AC. It looks back with a cold feeling in its vents. I dare the humidity to go high. And go towards the switch. At which point my electrician tells me "I got the wrong switch, I ll bring the right one tomorrow". The humidity, well does wat I dared it to do. I dont despair. I shall be cold tomorrow.

Friday arrives and its pleasant. The day peaks at 42, so I know it wont be that bad. The AC guys finish their bit and prepare it. The carpenter finishes almost all of his job. The electrician arrives. Fixes everything. As he prepares to leave, I get ready to test drive my machine. At which point I am rudely interrupted by the electrician who tells me "U cant put it on now, the wire connected to the meter needs to be replaced and its sealed so only the power company guys can do that. I ll take care of it in the afternoon today and by tomorrow this time it ll be done". At 42, I am a lil pissed off but I dont care. One more day buddy, jus one more. Saturday arrives, and by 3pm the carpenter and the AC guys hav readied everything. They get ready to say their goodbyes when one suggests that if the electrician is on his way they ll jus let him finish and test it out. I call the electrician and he says he ll be thr in 20. 30mins later he says I jus put in the application form and Monday 12pm the power company guy will arrive.

My Electrician

I have never felt more hatred in my heart. I scream I yell. The AC guys call the electrician and yell too. The carpenter calls the electrician and yells too. My driver was having a bad day so he yelled at the electrician too. And then the phone came back to me. The electrician apologised and assured us not to pay him a penny if he is a minute later than 12pm. I yell the last time, well wat I thot wud be the last time, and then hung up. The AC guys and the carpenter patted me on my shoulder, as if to assure me that 1.5 days wud jus pass without me noticing it. I give them a bleak smile. 2 hours later the humidity shoots up and I call the electrician and ask him to come home so I could yell at him in person. He apologises again and promises to not take a penny if he doesn't arrive on Monday.

So as its an early Sunday morn, m back to looking like Tom Hanks in Castaway. Hopefully tomorrow nite will be the last nite I have to sport that look. Or else m tying my electrician to the highest tree I can find at precisely 12:01pm. Ciao.