Samsung NC10 and Kailasam

I am typing this post on my new Samsung NC10.

OK, one of the main reasons I started this blog was to get an opportunity to crow about my new lap top. I tried extolling its virtues to my wife, who was unimpressed. My work colleagues listened politely, but I could see their eyes glazing over after the first hour.

But I've got you hooked, dear reader!

Haven't I?

Please?

Thank you.

It is a Netbook with a 10" screen, 160GB hard disk, 1 GB memory. It looks very cool, and I am very proud of it. Buying this netbook was facilitated by my son trying to imitate Yuvraj's six sixes. He hit the screen of my old (but venerable) Sony Vaio. RIP, Sony Vaio. Any suggestions that I might have encouraged him to do it are entirely scurrilous. Here are a few photos.






























Eat your hearts out, all of you.
Except people who own a MacBook.
And any other net book or laptop better than mine.

Which brings me to T P Kailsam, Playwright, writer, genius. My favourite play amongst the several he wrote is ಪೋಲಿ ಕಿಟ್ಟಿ (Poli Kitti). Poli is a kannada word that I find a little hard to translate. It refers to a cheeky, irreverent or rude person. Kitti is a 'Born scout' who helps people selflessly, but ends up being labelled a 'poli' because he cannot be bothered to observe social niceties. He habitually offends stuck up people, can't stand hypocrites and always stands up to bullies. One of the other characters in "Poli kitti" is ಮಗು (magu or 'baby'). Magu is a younger boy in the Boy Scout troop that Kitti attends (in the hope of getting free food). Magu is small, and others in the troop bully him. Kitti protects magu and takes him under his wing. Magu comes from a very affluent background, unlike Kitti who is in effect the bread winner for his family. Kitti resents rich people, because they remind him of his now estranged brother who turned his back on his family after coming into wealth. In their conversations, Kitti accuses magu of belonging to 'ದೊಡ್ಮನುಷ್ಯರ್ಜಾತಿ' - translation - 'rich caste'. Magu asks him to explain what that means. the conversation goes on something like this....

Scene: Magu's house, his father's chambers.
ಕಿಟ್ಟಿ: ಇಲ್ನೋಡು, (indicating a mirror)ಈ ಕನ್ನಡಿ ಯಾಕೋ?
ಮಗು: ಯಾಕೆಂದ್ರೆ, ಮುಖ ನೋಡ್ಕೊಳಕ್ಕೋ
ಕಿಟ್ಟಿ: (hands a few feet apart) ನಿಮ್ ಅಪ್ನಿಗೆ ಇಷ್ಟ್ ದಪ್ಪ ತಲೆಕಾಯೇನೋ?
ಮಗು: ಯಾಕೋ? ಇಲ್ಲವಲ್ಲೋ.
ಕಿಟ್ಟಿ: ಮತ್ತೆ ಇಷ್ಟ್ ದೊಡ್ಡ್ ಕನ್ನಡಿ ಯಾಕೋ ಅವ್ನಿಗೆ?
ಮಗು: ಪೂರ್ತಿ ಮೈ ಮುಖ ಕಾಣ್ಲಿ ಅಂತ ಕಣೋ
ಕಿಟ್ಟಿ: (bending down) ಕೆಳಗೆ ಬಗ್ ನೋಡಿದ್ರೆ ಕಾಣೊಲ್ವೆನೊ, ಮೈ? ಇದಿಕ್ಕೇ ಹೇಳೋದು, ದೊಡ್ದ್ಮನುಷ್ಯರ್ ಜಾತಿ ಅಂತ.

An English translation:

Kitti: Now, what is this mirror for?
Magu: Well, to look at yourself, surely.
Kitti: (hands a few feet apart) Does your father have a face this large?
Magu: No!
Kitti: then, why does he need such a large mirror?
Magu: To look at all of his body in the mirror, I think
Kitti: (bending down) Can he not do that by bending down? This is what I meant by a 'rich caste'

Q.E.D, Kitti! (and checkmate)

Now, did I really need a net book with a wireless network when all I had to do is to walk a few metres to where my desktop computer is, in my rather 'compact' flat?

I know what Kitti would say.

Darkness at (around) noon

A few weekends ago, I was having a perfect Sunday. All my jobs were done. I had an excellent lunch,put my feet up on the sofa and reached for the remote.....

The washing machine's isn't working, said my wife...... sigh...

In fact, we had a power failure. Now if this happened in my homeland, no problems. UPS s, emergency lamps and candles spring into action, and life barely breaks stride.

Here, in my adopted country, mayhem reigned.

Traffic lights were out, shops and supermarkets were closed, and mobile networks were faltering. How long would it take them to fix it? What about heating? Prompted by my wife, I did something unprecedented. I went out and knocked on a few doors in our neighbourhood. I finally found one man in. It's OK, he said. Power's out every where, I can't see any wireless networks on, should be back soon. I came back home. We all sat in the living room and talked. My son played on the carpet.

The power was back soon. We all sighed in relief. I turned the TV on, my son went back on the Internet.

I have a brilliant idea. Let's have 'surprise' blackouts, say every month. Save power. Save the Earth! Have more family fun time together.

And who knows, I might even meet some more of my neighbours.........

YIKES!

OK, silly idea.

The gas man speaketh (Is any one listening?)

These are my first letters, words and blog. Ever. On the internet.

How shall I start?

I ought to start with a mission statement - A synopsis of my ideals, hopes and aspirations for this blog. This blog? My life, ideally.

However, speaking in a metaphysical sense, if no one ever reads these words (other than me, of course), do these words actually exist?

People write things in their diaries. Intimate, personal things. They are supposedly private. Don't ever believe that! They are all secretly hoping to be discovered. Accidentally, of course. Why else would they leave their diaries lying about, with PRIVATE KEEP OUT written on them?

Me too. I hope some one accidentally discovers my blog. If that's you, dear reader, thanks for making my words exist. Read on, and if you liking, come back!