I ponder upon a question of existentialism. Of sedans.
I went to Pune last week, to pay a visit to my uncle. It was a good four days, with good food, good relaxation and good movies. I was pampered no less by my aunt, taken on awesome drives around the hills of Pune by my uncle and well, was the subject of the greatest curiosity of my adorable albeit capricious cousin.
My cousin is this complete car-freak - and at the age of 6, he is able to identify even the rarest supercar by looking at pictures. He ogles out of the window whenever in a car, and the whole drive is riddled with his exclamations of “Audi!” and “Porsche!” and the like. Family legend has it that I was something of a similar nature when I was such an age, but I digress.
As with all little boys who love cars, my cousin loves to draw them as well - something that I have myself been into, for more than half my conscious life on this planet. And when I did see him draw a car, my mind went wandering into one of those automo…
I know only a few friends of mine who use it, but I use Last.fm a lot. Well, to be honest there's not much to "use" there - because once you've connected your music players with your account, it all happens automatically.
In case you're not aware, here's how it works: any song you play on your music player, gets "scrobbled" to your Last.fm account. Scrobbling is just another fancy word which Last.fm uses to mean that your listening history is tracked, and recorded.
I, for one, have a mammoth music library on Rhythmbox, the default Ubuntu music player, and I have a handful songs on my Android too - and both, Rhythmbox and the HTC music player have plugins to connect to my Last.fm account, so that whatever song I'm listening to - be it on my laptop, or on my phone gets listed on my account - as you can see here.
So after more than a year of using last.fm, and having scrobbled more than 7000 songs - I logged on to the Last.fm site to see what they…
I went for the famous Dialogue in the
Dark yesterday. Apparently the only city to have it in India is this – Hyderabad, and I must say, I was quite impressed.
The experience is rather unique. We
were asked to deposit all our belongings – glasses, mobile phones
and bags at the counter near the entrance and asked to enter through
a door, beyond which there was total and absolute darkness. Like, pitch darkness. The sort of darkness that you experience when you
shut your eyes tightly.
We were given canes, and were asked by
this cheerful guide to move forward, while feeling the wall with our left hands. Very soon, he asked us to break away from the wall, and
follow his voice as he led us over a bridge over a gushing spring –
which swayed perilously as we filed over it. Of course, it wasn't a real bridge over a real spring, but the very
realistic sound of the rippling water, and the hush of tree leaves,
and the cry of birds made it all very difficult to distinguish from
reality. It mi…
… because let’s face it. India would be a better country without these.
If you have stayed in an Indian
metropolis, and been one of the teeming millions of citizens who
commute to work daily, and if you had possessed an ounce of common
sense while at it, you would have realised that the root of all
traffic problems in India is a blithering yellow and black
contraption, otherwise known as an autorickshaw.
The mere sight of one of these medieval torture devices is enough to get my blood to boil. But what riles me me the most about them, is how their drivers wreak havoc in the country in the name of public convenience, while being under the false assumption that public roads are their’s and unquestionably their’s for the taking.
Therefore, they break every
single traffic rule in the country, destroy the environment with
black smoke and noise, kill everything from puppies to little babies
and if you, even for once, attempt to reprimand them for their crimes against humanity, they threat…