The world of FB

FB has become an inseparable part of every one's life. Even next door neighbors who never meet otherwise meet in FB, siblings who don't get time to call put up messages on each other's wall. That's really nice. Just yesterday someone, who stayed in our para, locality, in Calcutta, with whom I went to the same school for two years in early eighties and whom I don't think I've met ever since 96, found me out from FB and contacted me. I hear people getting back to old crushes after twenty or twenty five years, find long lost neighbours after thirty years, find out a best friend from kindergarten. No doubt all these won't have been possible had there not been this small piece of application that has revolutionized socialization.

But thinking deeper don't you feel that people have stopped talking to near and dear ones because you see bits and pieces of everyone in their walls. Actually you talk less and scrap more. That regular calls to find out how your brother celebrated the durga puja in that isolated place in US where the nearest Indian store is some fifty miles or how much your sister missed you during the bhai phota are no longer needed. Your brother will post hundred snaps of the durga puja that he attended after driving some eighty miles along with status updates like, 'missing Calcutta', or 'I want to go back home'. That charm in asking him about his yearning to be at home is lost in a public post in the wall - after all a wall is a wall, it divides - has any one heard of a wall that unites? There's a fun in knowing something that the whole world doesn't know. There lies the exclusiveness of a relationship. If my sister feels bad during bhai phota it should be only me who should know about it - why the whole world should know that.

Then there are those old friends or relatives whom you used to call to UK or US or Middle east from time to time to get the latest updates of their kids. But now do you really feel like calling someone when you know even this piece of information that the cake she cut in her younger kid's second birthday was a big two kilo one with nuts and chocolates stuffed into it and that thirty kids from the neighborhood blew off hundred balloons and ate home made cookies? What's there left for me to know. I'll surely miss that call when she would have told me over the phone about how much the thirty kids enjoyed running around in her new house and how much pain she'd taken preparing all the cookies. I'll miss the excitement in her voice - the detailed updates in her walls are no doubt informative but the sentiments are buried somewhere deep under.

Funnier are posts like, 'I've prepared a yummy cake today' by a girl or woman and then updates that three people have liked it and ten people, mainly guys, posting on her wall almost similar things like, 'Wow, so when are we getting a slice of it?' The same girl may then acknowledge all the wows by writing, '@ Sumit, Puneet, Navneet, Vineet, Manjeet, Kamaljeet, Premjit: thanks!' Well, I wonder what was that thanks for - for the wow for her yummy cake that she ate alone at her home or for the fact that there are ten guys who still show interest in her! At any point of time these yummy cakes with three pictures taken from three sides posted on the wall may constitute close to a quarter of the posts you get every day!

In Calcutta we have these ever inquisitive parar boudi, the house wives of the young guys of the locality, who, given a chance, won't mind peeping into every one's house to get the harir khabor - well I can't translate the term harir khabor which literally means the news of the pitcher but actually means the inside information. I somehow have a feeling that these Bong parar boudi syndrome is not a localized affair - in general everyone around the world is interested in others' harir khabor and FB has somehow exploited this human behavior in a very sophisticated way. When I post the picture of a cake I actually want to know what my neighbor or friend is doing his or her kid's birthday!

Anyway, I'm sure I'll be a very hated person in the FB brotherhood for this blog.

The World according to India

Courtesy Uday

All for $0.00

This is a true story with an excellent outcome.
On Thursday, 24th January 2002, Derek Guille broadcast this story on his afternoon program on ABC radio. In March 1999 a man living in Kandos (near Mudgee in NSW) received a bill for his as yet unused gas line stating that he owed $0.00. He ignored it and threw it away. In April he received another bill and threw that one away too. The following month the gas company sent him a very nasty note stating that they were going to cancel his gas line if he didn't send them $0.00 by return mail. He called them, talked to them, and they said it was a computer error and they would take care of it. The following month he decided that it was about time that he tried out the troublesome gas line figuring that if there was usage on the account it would put an end to this ridiculous predicament. However, when he went to use the gas, it had been cut off. He called the gas company who apologised for the computer error once again and said that they would take care of it. The next day he got a bill for $0.00 stating that payment was now overdue. Assuming that having spoken to them the previous day the latest bill was yet another mistake, he ignored it, trusting that the company would be as good as their word and sort the problem out. The next month he got a bill for $0.00. This bill also stated that he had 10 days to pay his account or the company would have to take steps to recover the debt. Finally, giving in, he thought he would beat the gas company at their own game and mailed them a cheque for $0.00. The computer duly processed his account and returned a statement to the effect that he now owed the gas company nothing at all. A week later, the manager of the Mudgee branch of the Westpac Banking Corporation called our hapless friend and asked him what he was doing writing cheque for $0.00. After a lengthy explanation the bank manager replied that the $0.00 cheque had caused their cheque processing software to fail. The bank could therefore not process ANY cheques they had received from ANY of their customers that day because the cheque for $0.00 had caused the computer to crash. The following month the man received a letter from the gas company claiming that his cheque had bounced and that he now owed them $0.00 and unless he sent a cheque by return mail they would take immediate steps to recover the debt. At this point, the man decided to file a debt harassment claim against the gas company. It took him nearly two hours to convince the clerks at the local courthouse that he was not joking. They subsequently helped him in the drafting of statements which were considered substantive evidence of the aggravation and difficulties he had been forced to endure during this debacle. The matter was heard in the Magistrate's Court in Mudgee and the outcome was this:
The gas company was ordered to:
[1] Immediately rectify their computerized accounts system or Show Cause, within 10 days, why the matter should not be referred to a higher court for consideration under Company Law.
[2] Pay the bank dishonor fees incurred by the man.
[3] Pay the bank dishonor fees incurred by all the Westpac clients whose cheques had been bounced on the day our friend's had> been processed.
[4] Pay the claimant's court costs; and
[5] Pay the claimant a total of $1500 per month for the 5 month period March to July inclusive as compensation for the aggravation they had caused their client to suffer.

And all this over $0.00.

Assorted ‘Forward’s

THE A TO Z OF BEING A BONG

A is for Apish (Office). This is where the average Kolkatan goes and spends a day hard(ly) at work. If he is in the Government he will arrive at 10, wipe his forehead till 11, have a tea break at 12, throw around a few files at 12.30, break for lunch at 1, smoke an unfiltered cigarette at 2, break for tea at 3, sleep sitting down at 4 and go home at 5. It's a hard life!
B is for Bhijon. (As in teli-bhijon) For some reason most of the Bengalis don't have good bhijon. In fact in Kolkata most people are wearing spectacles all the time. The effects of this show in the city.
C is for Chappell. This is the Bengali word for the Devil, for the worst form of evil. In the night mothers put their kids to sleep saying 'go to bed, or Chappell will come and take you away.'
D is for Debashish. By an ancient law every fourth Bengali Child has to be named Debashish. So you have a Debashish everywhere and trying to get creative they are also called Deb, Debu, Deba with variations like Debnath and Deboprotim thrown in.
E is for Eeesh. This is a very common Bengali exclamation made famous by Aishwarya Rai in the movie Devdas. It is estimated that on an average a Bengali uses eeesh 10,089 times every year. (That's counting eeesh and other eeesh-ish words).
F is for Feesh. These are creatures that swim in rivers and seas and are a favourite food of the Bengalis. Despite the fact that a fish market has such strong smells, with one sniff a Bengali knows if a fish is all right. If not, he will say 'eeesh, what feeesh is theeesh!'
G is for Good name. Every Bengali Boy will have a good name like Debashish or Deboprotim and a pet name like Shontuda, Chonti, and Dinku. While every Bengali Girl will be Paromita or Protima as well as Shampa, Champa and Buri. Basically your nickname is there to kill your good name.
H is for Harmonium. The Bengali equivalent of a rock guitar. Take four Bengalis and a Harmonium and you have the successors to The Bheatles!
I is for Ileesh. This is a feeesh with 10,000 bones which would kill any ordinary person, but which the Bengalis eat with releeesh!
J is for Jhola. No self respecting Bengali is complete without his Jhola. It is a shapeless cloth bag where he keeps all his belongings and he fits an amazing number of things in. Even as you read this there are 2 million jholas bobbling around Kolkata- and they all look exactly the same!
K is for Kee Kando. It used to be the favourite Bengali exclamation till eeesh took over because of Aishwarya Rai (now Kee Kando's agent is trying to hire Bipasha Basu).
L is for Lungi. People in Kolkata manage to play football and cicket wearing it. Now there is talk of a lungi expedition to Mt. Everest.
M is for Minibus. These are dangerous half buses whose antics would effortlessly frighten the living daylights out of Formula 1 race drivers.
N is for Nangtoe. This is the Bengali word for Naked. It is the most interesting naked word in any language!
O is for Oil. The Bengalis believe that a touch of mustard oil will cure anything from cold (oil in the nose), to earache (oil in the ear), to cough (oil on the throat) to piles (oil you know where!)
P is for Phootball. This is always a phavourite phassion of the Kolkattan. Every Bengali is born an expert in this game. The two biggest clubs there are Mohunbagan and East Bengal and when they play the city comes to a stop.
Q is for Queen. This really has nothing to do with the Bengalis or Kolkata, but it's the only Q word I could think of at this moment. There's also Quilt but they never use them in Kolkata.
R is for Robi Thakur. Many years ago Rabindranath got the Nobel Prize. This allows everyone in Kolkata to frame their acceptance speeches and walk with their head held high and look down at Delhi and Mumbai!
S is for Sardarjee whom Bengalis are very envious of because he is born with a semi-monkey cap on.
T is for Trams. Hundred years later there are still trams in Kolkata. Of course if you are in a hurry it's faster to walk.
U is for Ambrela. When a Bengali baby is born they are handed one.
V is for Violence. Bengalis are the most non-violent violent people around. When an accident happens they will shout and scream and curse and abuse, but the last time someone actually hit someone was in 1979.
W is for Water. For three months of the year the city is under water and every year for the last 200 years the authorities are taken by surprise by this!
X is for X mas. It's very big in Kolkata, with Park Street fully lit up.
Y is for Yastarday. Which is always better than today for a Bengali.
Z is for Jeebra, Joo, Jip and Jylophone.

~*~

A Bong Poem
Through the jongole I am went

On shooting Tiger I am bent

Bustaard Tiger has eaten wife

No doubt I will avenge poor darling's life.
Too much quiet, snakes and leeches

But I not fear these sons of beeches

Hearing loud noise I am jumping with start

But noise is coming from damn fool's heart

Taking care not to be fright

I am clutching rifle tight with eye to sight

Should Tiger come I will shoot and fall him down

Then like hero return to native town

Then through trees I am espying one cave

I am telling self - "Bholanath be brave"

I am now proceeding with too much care

From far I smell this Tiger's lair

My leg shaking, sweat coming, I start to pray

I think I will shoot Tiger some other day

Turning round I am going to flee

But Tiger giving bloody roar spotting this Bengalee

He bounding from cave like football player Pele

I run shouting "Kali Ma tumi kothay gele"
Through the jongole I am running

With Tiger on my tail closer looming

I am a telling that never in life

I will risk again for my damn fool wife

~*~

Husband’s Disease

The phone rings. The lady of the house answers,

“Yes?”

“Mrs. Ward, please”

"Speaking"
"Mrs. Ward, this is Doctor Jones at the Medical Testing Laboratory. When your Doctor sent your husband's samples to the lab, the samples from another Mr. Ward were sent as well and we are now uncertain which one is your husband's. Frankly, it is either bad or terrible."
"What do you mean?" Mrs. Ward asks. "Well, one Mr. Ward has tested positive for Alzheimer's disease (related to memory) and the other for AIDS. We can't tell which your husband's is"
"That's terrible! Can we do the test over?" questions Mrs. Ward.
"Normally, yes. But Medicare won't pay for these expensive tests more than once."
"Well, what am I supposed to do now?"
"The people at Medicare recommend that you drop your husband off in the middle of town. If he finds his way home, don't sleep with him."

~*~

Problem of a Psychologist

A shy but handsome fellow was at a club and sees a beautiful woman seated alone at the bar. After an hour of screwing up his courage he heads over to her and asks tentatively, "Uh, would you mind if I chatted with you for a while?"

She responds by yelling, at the top of her lungs, "No, I won't sleep with you tonight!"

Everyone in the bar is now staring at them. Naturally, the poor guy is hopelessly and completely embarrassed and he meanders back to his table.

After a few minutes, the woman walks over to him and apologizes. She smiles at him and says, "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. You see, I'm a graduate student in psychology and I'm studying how people respond to embarrassing situations."
To which he responds, at the top of his lungs, "What do you mean $200 an hour!"

~*~

Improving English

A Commission has just announced that English will be the official language of the European Union rather than German, which was the other possibility.
As part of the negotiations, the British Government conceded that English spelling had some room for improvement and has accepted a 5- year phase-in plan that would become known as "Euro-English". In the first year, "s" will replace the soft "c". Sertainly, this will make the sivil servants jump with joy. The hard "c" will be dropped in favour of "k". This should klear up konfusion, and keyboards kan have one less letter. There will be growing publik enthusiasm in the sekond year when the troublesome "ph" will be replaced with "f". This will make words like fotograf 20% shorter. In the 3rd year, publik akseptanse of the new spelling kan be expekted to reach the stage where more komplikated changes are possible. Governments will enkourage the removal of double letters which have always ben a deterent to akurate speling. Also, al wil agre that the horibl mes of the silent "e" in the languag is disgrasful and it should go away. By the 4th yer people wil be reseptiv to steps such as replasing "th" with "z" and "w" with "v". During ze fifz yer, ze unesesary "o" kan be dropd from vords kontaining "ou" and after ziz fifz yer, ve vil hav a reil sensi bl riten styl. Zer vil be no mor trubl or difikultis and evrivun vil find it ezi tu understand ech oza. Ze drem of a united urop vil finali kum tru. Und efter ze fifz yer, ve vil al be speking German like zey vunted in ze forst plas. If zis mad you smil, pleas pas on to oza pepl

~*~

Interview

Bill Gates organized an enormous session to recruit a new Chairman for Microsoft Europe. 5000 candidates assembled in a large room. One candidate is Vella Reddy, an Indian (Hyderabadi ) guy.
Bill Gates thanked all the candidates for coming and asking those who do not know JAVA program to leave.2000 people leave the room. Reddy says to himself, 'I do not know JAVA but I have nothing to lose if I stay. I'll give it a try'
Bill Gates asked the candidates who never had experience of managing more than 100 people to leave. 2000 people leave the room. Reddy says to himself ' I never managed anybody by myself but I have nothing to lose if I stay. What can happen to me?' So he stays.
Then Bill Gates asked candidates who do not have management diplomas to leave. 500 people leave the room. Reddy says to himself, 'I left school at 15 but what have I got to lose?' So he stays in the room.
Lastly, Bill Gates asked the candidates who do not speak Serbo - Croat to leave. 498 people leave the room. Reddy says to himself, ' I do not speak one word of Serbo - Croat but what do I have to lose?' So he stays and finds himself with one other candidate. Everyone else has gone.
Bill Gates joined them and said 'Apparently you are the only two candidates who speak Serbo - Croat, so I'd now like to hear you have a conversation together in that language.'
Calmly, Reddy turns to the other candidate and says 'ellaa vunnavu babu' ( How are you sir in Telugu ). The other candidate answers 'baguunanu babu ' ( I am fine Sir, in Telugu )

~*~

Wife behind the Wheel

A married couple is driving along a highway doing a steady 60 miles per hour. The wife is behind the wheel. Her husband suddenly looks across at her and speaks in a clear voice. "I know we've been married for twenty years, but I want a divorce." The wife says nothing, keeps looking at the road ahead but slowly increases her speed to 65 mph. The husband speaks again. "I don't want you to try and talk me out of it," He says, "because I've been having an affair with your best friend, and she's a far better lover than you are." Again the wife stays quiet, but grips the steering wheel more tightly and slowly increases the speed to 75mph. He pushes his luck. "I want the house," he says insistently. Up to 80. "I want the car, too," he continues. 85 mph. "And," he says, "I'll have the bank accounts, all the credit cards and the boat!" The car slowly starts veering towards a massive concrete bridge. This makes him nervous, so he asks her, "Isn't there anything you want?" The wife at last replies in a quiet and controlled voice. "No, I've got everything I need," she says. "Oh, really," he inquires, "so what have you got?" Just before they slam into the wall at 85 mph, the wife turns to him and smiles. "The airbag."

~*~

Origin of Reservation

The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks the ant's a fool and laughs & dances & plays the summer away. Come winter, the shivering grasshopper calls a press conference and demands to know why the ant should be allowed to be warm and well fed while others are cold and starving.

NDTV, BBC, CNN show up to provide pictures of the shivering grasshopper next to a video of the ant in his comfortable home with a table filled with food. The World is stunned by the sharp contrast. How can this be that this poor grasshopper is allowed to suffer so? Arundhati Roy stages a demonstration in front of the ant's house. Medha Patkar goes on a fast along with other grasshoppers demanding that grasshoppers
be relocated to warmer climates during winter.

Amnesty International and Koffi Annan criticize the Indian Government for not upholding the fundamental rights of the grasshopper. The Internet is flooded with online petitions seeking support to the grasshopper (many promising Heaven and Everlasting Peace for prompt support as against the wrath of God for non-compliance) .

Opposition MP's stage a walkout.Left parties call for "Bharat Bandh" in West Bengal and Kerala demanding a Judicial Enquiry. CPM in Kerala immediately passes a law preventing Ants from working hard in the heat so as to bring about equality of poverty among ants and grasshoppers.

Lalu Prasad allocates one free coach to Grasshoppers on all Indian Railway Trains, aptly named as the 'Grasshopper Rath'. Finally, the Judicial Committee drafts the Prevention of Terrorism Against Grasshoppers Act [POTAGA]", with effect from the beginning of the winter.
Arjun Singh makes Special Reservation for Grass Hopper in educational Institutions & in Govt Services.

The ant is fined for failing to comply with POTAGA and, having nothing left to pay his retroactive taxes, his home is confiscated by the Government and handed over to the grasshopper in a ceremony covered by NDTV.

Arundhati Roy calls it "a triumph of justice". Lalu calls it 'Socialistic Justice'. CPM calls it the 'revolutionary resurgence of the downtrodden' Koffi Annan invites the grasshopper to address the UN General Assembly.

Many years later...The ant has since migrated to the US and set up a multi billion dollar company in silicon valley.100s of grasshoppers still die of starvation despite reservation.Somewhere in India ...

Vacation

Two priests decided to go to Hawaii on vacation.
They were determined to make this a real vacation by not wearing anything that would identify them as clergy. As soon as the plane landed they headed for a store and bought some really outrageous shorts, shirts, sandals, sunglasses, etc.
The next morning they went to the beach dressed in their 'tourist' garb. They were sitting on beach chairs, enjoying a drink, the sunshine and the scenery when a 'drop dead gorgeous' blonde in a topless bikini came walking straight towards them. They couldn't help but stare. As the blonde passed them she smiled and said 'Good Morning, Father ~ Good Morning, Father,' nodding and addressing each of them individually, then she passed on by. They were both stunned. How in the world did she know they were priests? So the next day, they went back to the store and bought even more outrageous outfits. These were so loud you could hear them before you even saw them! Once again, in their new attire, they settled down in their chairs to enjoy the sunshine. After a little while, the same gorgeous blonde, wearing a different colored topless bikini, taking her sweet time,
came walking toward them. Again she nodded at each of them, said 'Good morning, Father ~ Good morning, Father,' and started to walk away. One of the priests couldn't stand it any longer and said, 'Just a minute, young lady.' 'Yes, Father?' 'We are priests and proud of it, but I have to know, how in the world do you know we are priests, dressed as we are?' She replied, 'Father, it's me, Sister Kathleen.'