Naming Ceremony

The wireless (network) that had served us for the last two years stopped working last week because of a fancy technical incompatibility involving routers cable and/or Adsl. A replacement was purchased from ebay at a very decent rate.

My overjoyed (programmer) spouse rushed off this morning to the post office to collect the parcel. It looked intact and in good health contrary to all fears about second hand purchasing on the internet. So despite a grand breakfast of adai and chai, he non-unanimously decided to set up the wireless without delay. In the backdrop of the mild cold and drizzle outside and Kanda Sashti Kavacham (i remembered my neighbour vaadyaar mami who used to play it at the crack of dawn and sing along with it) playing inside, I abandoned the kitchen premises and watched while he sincerely sat down, bent over, half rose, scratched his chin and frowned during the process.

What shall we name the wireless network, he asked. I promptly suggested Marthandan. After Marthanda Varma, a ruler of Kerala some centuries ago. Marthandan also means Sun and I have been enamoured of that name ever since. Besides, my history text books had drawings of him with a beard and crown seated grandly on a bench with curved legs and his hand resting on a sword and Without protesting, Ashok started to type it in ...'MARTHA N DAN' . I squealed with laughter and declared that clearly, he could not appreciate the beauty of the name. Lengthy discussion followed.

Do you want the name of a divinity? Narayana, Murugan, Dandapani,? Nah! Or a colourless repetition with our house name or number? Such as Alma Home Net? We could do Number 12 Home Net, couldn't we! Shall we join our names? No? Nick names then? Not the name of a car, please! No ragam either then. Okay. Silence.

Shall we call it vengaayam? (casually)

What? Vengayam, as in onion, ulli, pyaaz? (shock and excitement)

Yes?

Yes!

Readings From Long Ago

(A year ago) I read part of The Book of Nothing. It speaks of a musical piece of four minutes and thirty three seconds length - of silence. (A weird colleague of mine, I am told, actually owns this audio CD!) Then it speaks of a chapter in a novel titled "Essay on silence" containing blank pages. This author was sued by another author for copyright since the latter had already published a complete novel with blank pages.

Now I don't know how much of fiction these incidents are. But I was amused out of my head and laughed and cried. Then I stopped reading the Book of Nothing. Also I read a bunch of booklets by Kamla Bhasin on Feminism, Patriarchy. Very simple and strong. Wonder if Kalpana Sharma published similar thoughts. My boss when I was at Thinkpad in Kerala is in Delhi these days. I called him up and he usually tells me what he reads. This time it was "The world is flat". When I told Vijaya and Sreesh they both burst out laughing and asked if I was the Pope :-D.

Mayatha Marivillida

Found this old malayalam song that I used to really like. We used to sing it in the bus on the way to our school picnics. St Josephites remember?

[ watch the video ]

Work Terms

There are a few words and phrases that people use at work and they make me squirm. Used unthinkingly and usually meaningless. One wouldn't use that in casual conversations and besides, some don't sound very illogical.

You see, sometimes I would like to compare apples and oranges. And I don't want to touchbase with anyone, I'd get in touch with them. I'd love to whack them if they did a 'timeout' on me. If someone thinks we are going down a rabbithole, various thoughts of a dainty Alice or a storming March Hare come to mind. Here's some more terms - a strategic decision, this is Swami's favourite - paradigm shift!

Will add more.

Apparently, the BBC and I share similar opinions. Here, read.

About three unname-able people

One person in the office has started to wear a coat, suit and tie soon after he was given the title of Lead Developer For X and Y. This, despite the work environment being quite relaxed and dress code rather informal. This is in direct contrast to the behaviour of the third person in this essaylet.

The second person wears thick black glasses, a ring on one ear and his long matted shineless hair is piled up in an unflattering lump in the centre of his head. I have seen him loiter around near the photocopying machine and the printer. He sits at his desk, alone, behind a large green cupboard, sips coffee and ticks off something in a typed white sheet.

The third person, I have seen only once. I had to lean forward, squint and raise my eyebrow to make sure I was not imagining him in my head. He was dressed in a black leather jacket and a black leather skirt that went way above his knees. His head was smooth and oval. Shaved to a pink.

For now, I am not going to say anything about the man who wears a purple and black waistcoat every day (god, he must smell!) or about the girl who dyed her hair blue. Too ordinary.