Category Archives: Life etc.

This is not a tag, and I’m not an ignoramus

September 25, 2010Humor, Just Rambling, Life etc.Friends, NCSU, Palakkad, Raleigh, V6Deepak

For those of you who still are fooling around, this blog is still alive. The quiescent melancholy may make it seem otherwise, rendering it almost worthless, perhaps even depressing to those who love my blog (That would be just me, I guess!), but it is breathing nonetheless. And it will stay alive. But the only way I see to get my mojo back, is to hunt down whoever is running the new-age idiot boxes called Facebook and Twitter and kick their ass into oblivion. FB and Twitter have essentially killed the little skill I had in writing and confined me to one-liners and wordplays. To top it all, I tend to go overboard with wordplay that I make the world pay!

The safe (and usual) way when one can’t think about anything to blog, is to dust off some old tag and take it up with some utterly useless facts. A generally futile attempt at a comeback, it at least gives a signal that the blog is not abandoned. For example, “25 things I have done which made me look like an idiot” or “What am I doing right now”. I always wished to say “I’m giving a flying fart” to the latter one. It is fun to see disgusted looks in the faces of people. I get it.. but that’s indeed what I’ll be doing because if I don’t reply to that tag, that means I don’t give a flying fart about the tag.

Anyway, getting back to tagging, I feel it is the most unimaginative form of blogging. I’ve done it several times. That was because I was not being real. To quote a certain buji (Short for “Buddhi Jeevi” or intellectual(duh!) ) from NITC, I was playing around with equations in the realm of complex numbers.

So I am not going to take up a tag here. I won’t, until I start behaving like an imbecile and go against my words. So let me think about what I can write here…

Nothing!

I can think of nothing! It is a well known fact that I’m a literary ignoramus (Some people even say I’m just an ignoramus, literary or not, but that is debatable!). I have forgotten almost all the 3500 tough words in English from Barron’s which I mugged for my GRE. Hmm.. wait. I just figured that I remember “imbecile” and “ignoramus”, as is evident from the last couple of sentences.

So, since I can’t think of anything else, I’ll say something about what is going on in my life. It is boring, and it stinks, because I’m in deep shit right now. I don’t have a job (Heyy! Wait a minute! It is not because I’m an ignoramus. It is because the economy is fucked up!), I don’t have a life.. I don’t know what is happening to me.

What I have are an amazing family, and some amazing friends, that I forget all my woes. Little nuggets which don’t seemingly do anything useful – the incessant rain in Kerala… my mom trying to run when she passes by a nagging neighbor’s house… my dad trying to outsmart my mom during their morning walk… my brother’s silly complaints about his life in Bangalore… his switch from Telugu to Mandarin… my uncle annoying me and my aunt by showing the big sign in “The Hyatt Place” which is black or white depending of the time of the day, every single time we pass by that road… teaching my cousin how to make dal, when I myself don’t know how… gossips about V6… coming up with new nicknames for V6… gossips about me… some people saying they will commit suicide if a deserving guy like me don’t get a job… missing 1729D, Poker, Bamboo Garden, Pan-fried Paneer, Sammy’s Tap and Grill, and inane discussions with V6, the technically challenged girl (TCG) and the Green Dutch.

These little nothings in fact do much more than the somethings. What is life without real people in it, right? People who never fail to bring a smile to your face. Many of my friends too are going through tough phases in their life. Hope is all that is keeping us alive. The hope that good things will happen to good people eventually. That, and being there for each other!

How I broke into my own apartment

May 20, 2010Life etc., Trouble TroubleFriends, Raleigh, USADeepak

Shit happens to everyone. In my case, shit happens once too often. And when it comes, it comes not like a tide, but like a tsunami. As they say, when it rains, it pours.. (I’m not sure whether they mean the metaphor in the good sense or the bad..but whatever)

So, it seemed that fate got bored today and recalled it hadn’t played its cruel game with me for some time now. I got myself locked out of my apartment despite my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder with doors. However, probably because fate was nice to a certain individual whom I threatened to drag along with me on my troubled journey, the incident was not as dramatic as my earlier trysts with unwarranted trouble. But it is definitely worth mentioning.

It all seemed to be another mundane day just like any of the days this week, partly because I really don’t have anything to do apart from hunting for a job, now that I graduated. The previous day, I had decided to start watching Lost. I started right from Season 1, which thankfully was in Hulu. After a marathon session of 5 episodes yesterday night, I woke up pretty late today morning. But I couldn’t help but watch another episode in the morning, so I quickly rushed down to get some cornflakes, and then started watching Lost Season 1 Episode 6. After that, I did my morning round of job applications, then decided I’ll clean the kitchen and throw out the trash. Yes.. Cleaning is my way of taking a time out.. (But I clean my own stuff, so don’t ask me to clean your apartment!)

I had trash bags in both hands. I was too lazy to climb up to get my wallet, which has the house key. I thought, the dumpster is just nearby; I’ll just turn the latch on the knob so that the door remains unlocked. I have this OCD of checking like 10 times if a door is locked whenever I leave anywhere. This time it was just that I checked if the knob was rotating from outside like a 10 times, before closing it. I quickly dropped off the trash and returned back, thinking that I will take a bath now and cook some delicious food. To my horror (yes.. I get horrified even if this happens to me time and again), the door knob was not turning. I was locked out!

Now I was in a real tricky situation. The door won’t open. My key was inside the apartment. Of the three people who had keys to the apartment, one had gone to India, one to Seattle and one was in Welcome, NC, about 2 hrs drive from my place. My cellphone was inside. My wallet was inside. I didn’t have a car. I was in a creased tee and shorts, hadn’t taken bath, had a stubble of 3 days on my face, an oily face and ruffled hair. I was like a homeless!

How did the door get locked despite me checking so many times? I kept wondering. The first thought which came to my twisted mind was that some thief saw me stepping out and jumped in to steal my stuff. He might’ve locked it after he escaped with my stuff. I said to myself, “Yeah right.. That’s one courteous thief who locks the door behind him when leaving. Use your brain, moron!” So I ruled out that possibility. (Well! Not completely, as you will know soon!)

I tried my luck with the back door, but that was obviously locked, so I couldn’t open it. Panicking, my next step was to call Srikanth, who was the nearest person with the keys. For that I needed two things: his number, and a cellphone to make the call. I needed a savior. Of course, there was my savior and friend extraordinaire right opposite to my apartment. I rang the doorbell of Lakshmi’s apartment, mentally listing out my course of action, starting with using her cellphone. I heard the turning of some latch for a second. Something was wrong! Generally they secure their door with like 20 locks and keys, so I always hear turning of latches for about 5 seconds before they open the door. Their door is like a safe. Anyway nothing was wrong other than she thinking that I was not in a presentable state to be let in (:P). I said it was an emergency, and she finally let me in.

I told her what happened, and being the nice person she is, she offered to take me all the way to get the key and back. “Oh yeah.. she does have a car”, I remembered. I was visibly tense, because I think she asked me about 8-10 times to sit down, but I didn’t sit down. I kept wondering if the thief was still hiding in my apartment, locking it from inside (even more ridiculous!), so I kept peering through her window towards my apartment in the hope that I could catch the thief when he comes out. She made me some Bournvita, and narrated everything to her roommate, Priyanka. Priyanka, with her Gujju brains, came up with the idea of trying to pick the lock with a hair pin. I recalled that I’ve opened some doors using credit cards. So equipped with a hair pin and a credit card, we headed back to my apt. If we could avoid the 4 hour journey, it would be great. Would I get lucky in my misery?

We tried the card first. But the door was too tight for the card to fit in. Then we took turns and tried with the hairpin. Priyanka must’ve thought “What a geek!”, because I managed to wise-crack about how the tumblers inside the key work, and how lock-picking works, in the middle of all this. Alas! But knowledge is not everything, because both of us failed. I started contemplating the inevitable, when another group of friends saw us and came to check what the deal was. Don (Or was it Mavila?) suggested trying to slide the windows. If we are lucky enough, they might be unlocked. Sure enough, the kitchen window was unlocked. It was a tiny one, but I managed to climb into the kitchen. By that time, Priyanka had figured that the front window too was unlocked, and had climbed in through there.

Thus, I broke into my own apartment. I was in cloud nine. Lakshmi was also glad that she didn’t have to drive all the way and back. Yes! There was this small worry that we had forgotten to latch our windows, so any thief could have easily climbed in all these days. But it ultimately saved my day.

I mean, it could’ve been a lot worse

The windows would all have been latched in which case we would have had to make that 2+2=4 hour journey.
Suspicious neighbors could have called the cops when they saw us trying to break in
My apartment could have been on the second floor, in which case I would have needed a ladder to climb in through the window.

We decided to have a lunch outside together. I didn’t bother changing. I asked Lakshmi if I look okay to go outside.
She said, “You look a beggar”.
“A happy beggar”, I said to myself.

The grass on the other side of the hill

April 25, 2010Just Rambling, Life etc.Deepak

Woah! It’s been quite some time since I even came here in my blog Dashboard.

I’m 27 year old now (that happened about 2 months back, yeah but the nerves to my hands don’t fire that fast these days), and trying (and succeeding to a degree) to convince my mom I don’t need a marriage yet. Now don’t stare stupidly; the figure is right – 27. And the grass on the other side of the hill is still green. I’m still having fun in life, albeit in parts.

I still look the same, still behave the same. You will not know that I’m 27 if I don’t tell you. Some people have even said, “Yeah right! Who are you trying to fool?”, when I tell them how old I am. Then I’d have to flash my Driver’s License to prove my age. Hey, but at least the waitress at Ruckus bar didn’t say to me “What do you want, Sweetie?” with motherly affection, unlike to some others.

Grad life and Facebook have nearly killed my blog, because I seldom find the words or time to express myself these days. I should devote more time to my blog (Yeah! I know!). It will start in mid-May, when I graduate, because I will have no job other than job hunting after that. But for now, bullet points.

I still am, among other things, weird, emotional, outspoken and dreamy.
I still can joke with a straight face, and people will keep wondering whether that was a serious statement or a joke.
In the last two years, I changed from a well-paid money launderer to a broke grad student with absolutely zero bank balance.
I started learning the piano with a little bit of help.
Useless TV shows which I never miss – 24, The Big Bang Theory, House, WWE and Idea Star Singer
KBCT (Kerala born Confused Tamilian) syndrome will kick in next year if there is an IPL team called Cochin Coconuts. Who will I support then? CSK or CC? Oh… I still don’t like Cricket.. But IPL is different.. I already miss the MRF Blimp.
Talking about IPL, I got curious about Karbonn Mobile after seeing the utter plug(Utter in NITC lingo=very bad… Of pathetic quality. Short for atrocious) of Karbonn Kamaal Katch. I checked the Store locator, and sure enough, the default location was Kunnamkulam-Kerala.
For non-mallus, Kunnamkulam is the infamous place where you get low quality duplicates of any brand in the world.. Examples which I have seen include “NESTEL KATKIT” chocolate and “BISMILLARI” bottled water.
Fun Resolution #1: I will sweep the Bohemian off her feet, come Fall 2010. If nothing else works, I have a few banana skins handy for her to step on and slip, but I.Am.Gonna.Make.Her.Fall.For.Me. (The Bohemian Gimmick is getting a bit trite.. for those who know.. so this is probably the last one.)
Fun Resolution #2: I am going to start saving money to buy an Audi A8. Then I will hunt Lakshmi down, wherever in the world she is, and show that I now have a car with a V8 engine, much better than a V6 engine. I will even show V8 written in the back of my car, and say “Dandanakka!”
Fun Resolution #3: I am really gonna walk around Avent Ferry Rd wearing a white blanket over my head at 1am, just to freak people out. But I hope the 911 will ignore calls about sighting of ghosts.

That’s all I can think from the back of my mind right now.. I don’t wanna write anything serious in this post. They are reserved for a string of future ones starting in about a fortnight.

I hope I get my funny charm back by then.

The case of sunglasses

December 6, 2009Life etc., TheoriesIndia, Raleigh, Society, Sunglasses, USADeepak

This is a story about sunglasses, and their high profile life in the Indian society.

Now seriously!
Sunglasses have a very high importance in India. They are regarded as the ultimate level of machismo in Indian circles. At least that’s what I have figured. I will attempt to present my point with some events, during the course of which I may refer to some anonymous faces, which may be recognizable by at least a few people reading this. I will not tell the names here.

I have owned sunglasses for quite some time, but rarely used them in India because of two reasons primarily, the more important one of which I will talk about later. The lesser of the reasons is that I started wearing contact lens only 2 years back, while I have worn glasses since my 4th. I thought of it as rather a nuisance to carry two pair of glasses, and switching back and forth whenever I was outside or inside a building.

A few weeks after I came to NCSU for my studies, a friend told me, “Every Tom, Dick and Harry wears a sunglass here”. I mean, what’s the big deal? Why does someone wearing a sunglass stand out in the eyes of an Indian? I am at a loss to answer why. But I think I know how.

I consider sunglasses more as a convenience than a style statement. The vast majority of Indians think exactly the other way around. What they don’t understand, is the very fact that it is an useful item. I wear sunglasses when it is sunny, because that’s what sunglasses are for. I wear sunglasses when it is snowing, because studies have shown that a great deal of UV is reflected off the snow, and it is always a good idea to wear sunglasses.

A friend of mine once asked whether I was wearing sunglasses to show off.
When I gave my reasoning, he mocked me in the typical style only a Malayalee can talk in, “As if you wore sunglasses your whole life. You didn’t bother about UV and dust and other stuff while you were in India. You started wearing only after coming to US.” Most Malayalees have this bad habit of making fun of people who break convention. I remember another guy asking me to pick up littered newspapers on the road after I wrote this. Being a Malayalee myself, it is sad to see that most are a bunch of hypocritical 2 year olds who refuse to grow up.

Coming back to the case of sunglasses, the answer for that is the bigger, more important reason. It is better explained by the fact that even in US, when I freely wear sunglasses whenever it is bright outside, any known Indian face I meet on the way will make a comment about my sunglasses. “Bada cool dikh raha hai yaar”
Why don’t they leave my poor sunglasses alone? They are a pair of dilapidated old glasses, which have been mutilated more than once, including me sitting on a bag with them inside, and then having to bend the frame back to its normal shape. It is not worth $5 in craigslist. I don’t wear them because I want to look cool. I wear them because I don’t want to squint. I would have worn it in India too, if not for the reason that there would be 100 Indians instead of 10 that I would meet in the course of a day. It once even went to the point that a girl who was introduced to me one evening identified me. She said, “I saw you today morning, wearing sunglasses and all.” Believe me, at the very second, I was like “Why am I even talking to her?”, not because she made fun of me, but because of the hint that I was being pompous.

Now, imagine the horror of wearing sunglasses in India, if this was the case with a handful of Indian diaspora in US. You will have a hundred eyes thrust upon you wherever you go. And hundred is not an exaggeration because India is so populous, it is not difficult to find hundred people in a course of 1 mile.

My thesis that most Indians wear sunglasses only when they have to show off is cemented by a fact which you can notice if you are an Indian. I have seen countless Indians take out their precious Ray Ban from the closet, and polish them spick-and-span, whenever they are going on a vacation. In short, for them, they are meant to be worn only when you are going on a holiday. This has happened in my trip with my friends in US last summer too. I have never seen them wear sunglasses otherwise. Heck, I have even seen one photo in Facebook, where there was a guy who put his normal glasses on his head, then put on a pair of sunglasses on his eyes.. all just to pose for a holiday photo. (Deductive reasoning.. The fact that there are two glasses on his head suggests that it was an impromptu decision.)

To conclude, I will mention a funny incident that Kunal told us. He was talking about the accent of some people in Delhi. You will be standing by the roadside. They come with leather jacket and expensive aviator sunglasses. Then they ask in unrefined Hindi, “Bhaisaab. Tame kya hua?” (Sir, what’s the time? And he *does* say “tame” for “time”) You will literally be shocked if you weren’t from Delhi. That is because seeing the sunglasses, you would not have expected crass language from him. That’s how stereotyped sunglasses are.

The fact is that if you wear sunglasses, it will attract the attention of every single Indian in sight, whether you want it or not. Whether it is a constructive one or a destructive one, is completely out of your hands. The only choice you have is whether to be a robot or an alien.

It is one of the idiosyncrasies of an Indian.
Welcome to Incredible India!

The freak of nature

July 19, 2009Hallucinations, Life etc.Mulling over, SocietyDeepak

There I was again, all by myself, out in the scorching sun. There was no one by my side. Of course, that was not new. I can’t remember a time when people actually understood me.

Few liked me, because I was not like most. I didn’t know all the intricately false formalities. I was the freak of nature. But was it so wrong to be like that? I asked, what is the relevance of pretense in social life? The same people who talked about “being yourself”, were so fake. I was just walking the talking. Was that so wrong?

I got no answer.

I craved social life. I just didn’t know how to get it. Did I need to change myself? Did I have to snatch friendliness from people? I didn’t know if I could.

Could people actually look past all these shells of pretense? I found out the answer the hard way. No one does initially. You have to condition them to look past the shells, and see the real you.

This is my internal struggle. I don’t know when I can win it. But if you read this, please know that there is more to freaks than meets the eye.

V Day or I Day?

February 14, 2009I miss India, Just Rambling, Life etc.Birthday, Routine, Valentine's dayDeepak

Feb 14th.

No chocolate for guessing what is so significant about this date.

But I bet you would have guessed it wrong about the significance of today w.r.t. me (with respect to. Anyone remember calculus?)

Instead of getting a date, I got a phone call… from my parents. And they wished me Happy Birthday! A birthday that even I came to know of, only after the call. Before you get all confused, today is my birthday according to Indian Calendar. And because I don’t have an Indian Calendar here in US, I didn’t know earlier. Oh, I just love being Indian. You can have two birthdays per year!

Anyway, it came as a pleasant surprise, because I had absolutely no plans for today. Now I can celebrate, and not look like an ass slacking on Valentine’s day.

Also, I called my brother, and I talked to him like I talk to my mom – for 45 minutes. The only difference was that we talked about some subjects, which I never dare talk to my mom. It spanned topics like my theory about his craze for Telugu movies (His secret Telugu Girlfriend! Not so secret any more!), about our parents’ trip to Mettupalayam today, how to survive in the cutthroat world of office, my plans for Valentine’s day, his plans, and of course, Ram Sene.

My brother didn’t know that my parents were going to Mettupalayam today. When he asked me why, I said in my usual fashion, that they were going to Black Thunder themepark to rediscover their childhood. He replied back with an impromptu punchline, “Paada Parambil keri Golf kalikkalle Mone Dineshaa” (Don’t play Golf in barren land. To understand what he meant, read this post, section 6.1)
I told him how to proactively cut the throat of those who are planning to cut your throat. You can even mention that during your appraisal, as an example of how proactive you are.
My plans for V-Day – Eat, study, sleep.
His plans for V-Day – Eat, work, sleep when the manager is not around.
My brother told me about Ram Sene’s threat that they will forcibly marry off any couple they see on roads. He was talking about how the mob was a bunch of sexually frustrated losers who wanted an excuse to grope girls. I couldn’t help but crack this joke that there may be gays in Ram Sene, so boys are not safe either. (I am sorry if this is insensitive, but this is how I will show my protest, because I can’t do anything about it from US)

So, because today is my birthday, I’m gonna celebrate it by ordering a pizza and the delicious Chocolate Breadsticks from Pizza Hut.

PS: I generally don’t talk about my Indian birthday outside, because it is strictly for family. But today was too much of a coincidence!

PPS: On an entirely different note, an important event occured yesterday, which will never occur again. At 6:31pm, the UNIX timestamp struck the value of 1234567890. But the trouble-seeker that I am, I accidentally slept across the iconic moment, and incurred the wrath of all UNIX enthusiasts.

Anger Management

February 7, 2009Life etc., Weird thingsAnger Management, Habits, NCSU, RaleighDeepak

How often do you keep your cool when some stranger hits in your head with a rolled booklet? Have you ever had such experience at all? I did! A couple of days back! And I totally kept my cool!

This happened at the career fair. After standing in long queues, I got tired and came back to the lobby to have a seat. Ahh. The plush comfort of the couch! What can be more satisfying than having a coke in a couch? Apparently, checking my email was ! So I took my iPod touch out and started reading email.

Suddenly someone hit me on my head. I was startled for a moment. I quickly looked up to see which of my pestering friends it was, but to my further surprise, it was a total stranger. She froze for a moment. I had a temptation to shout “Someone call 911. I’m being attacked!” in typical Deepak-style. But I thought there were way too many people there, and someone might panic.

Anyway, after the moment of shock sunk in, the lady started apologizing to me. Apparently, the top view of my head looked like that of someone she knew. I was looking down as I was reading email, so my face apparently was not that visible. The only thing I felt about the whole “mishap” was amusement. Now, that was interesting. Because, had this happened 5 years back, I would have been real angry… even if it was a stranger.

There used to be a time when I used to get angry very easily. I used to scare away a great deal of people, who thought that I was not worthy of their friendship because I was rude. But only I knew that I was not rude. It was just… I would get angry very fast. But as if to counter that shortcoming, I never ever held a grudge against anyone. I would forget that in a matter of hours.

I have become better and better at curbing my anger, since my undergraduate days, and although I haven’t rooted it out yet, I can be happy that the last time I got angry at anyone was several months ago. There have been three key people who have helped me get better at controlling my rage.

Deepu Chandran, who has been a great friend of mine, even after I did this to him. He has advised me a great deal on the need to remain calm, and how to do it.

My father, who I consider an epitome of calmness. I have never seen him get angry in his life. (Although he acts like he is angry sometimes, for example, when he doesn’t get food on time, he is a really bad actor.)

Thirdly, my mother, who is a good example that you can control your anger if you try hard. Recalling my childhood days, I remember that she used to be really short tempered. But nowadays, I would say she can give my dad a run for his money. She once said that one important thing in keeping your anger at bay was to not attach yourself to anything materialistic.

I have understood through the course of time how important is it to prevent yourself from getting angry. Anger, as I know it, doesn’t help in anything productive. It only lengthens the distance between two people. It doesn’t ease your tension. It doesn’t free your mind. It is an unnecessary and potentially dangerous vestige of human nature. I strive to be free of anger all the time.

Looking at this incident, I’m sure I have improved a lot. I was initially apprehensive about whether I was just not showing my anger because it was a stranger or because it was a girl. But I asked myself, if I was angry inside, about the incident, and the answer was “Not at all!”

It snowed!

November 19, 2008Life etc., Tagged, Weird thingsChildhood, Habits, Raleigh, Snow, USADeepak

It seemed a normal enough day today, when I went out to the bus stop just outside my apartment to catch the “Greek Village” bus to my work. It was 12.30pm. The temperature was around 40 F(5 C) when I last checked.

I went out. It was really colder compared to yesterday. I had to wear my gloves to save my palms from getting numb. There was the familiar and boring whoosh sound as cars and trucks sped by.

Then it suddenly turned into a dreamland. A hint of something white! What looked like tiny cotton pieces falling from thin air! It was snowing!

This was the first snowfall I have witnessed in my life; I was beaming, and I could keep my composure well within limits, although I did that Bill Murray-ish strut, which was a visible indication that I was so excited. I have never been happier in several months. So I just decided to share my happiness with my poor blog, which I have been neglecting since I started my grad studies.

I couldn’t take a video of this historic moment, but history will repeat itself, so I’ll take a video and post it the next time it snows.

Now, I have a tag from the one and only Miladysa – a tag called Random & Weirdly Meme. It is a bit weird that I keep getting tags about weird things everytime, but everyone is allowed to be weird once or twice, so it is not really weird to be weird.

The rule is to share 7 facts about yourself – some random, some weird.

#1 – I saw snow for the first time in my life today. (What else were you expecting as first fact?)

#2 – One of my favorite hobbies while in school was inventing nicknames with my cousin to bully my younger brother. I can remember about 20 different names from the top of my head now, but I’m sure there were more. My favorite one must be NKVKMKM, which had a very interesting full form. I won’t disclose it here.

#3 – I used to steal buttermilk from the refrigerator as a kid. The habit hasn’t died till date. Even today, I prefer drinking buttermilk when nobody’s watching.

#4 – I scored an almost high 28 on an online Asperger Syndrome test, but I don’t believe it.

#5 – I am really (unbelievably) bad at Cricket. I can’t play well, and I don’t follow cricket.

#6 – I’ve been using the same wrist watch for 11 years now. And I don’t even like it.

#7 – Weekends in Raleigh are boring because I don’t have a car, and there’s no public transit on weekends.

Now tagging 7 people is the part I don’t like. So I tag everyone who reads this. 😛

C’est La Vie

April 22, 2008Life etc., Trouble TroubleCrib, Movies, PalakkadDeepak

I got a topic to blog about (Finally, after more than a month!)
And quite obviously, it is about another round of troubles. For some reason, I often find myself in trouble through the most bizarre ways.

It all started when I went to HDFC Bank to pay the fee for a US Visa Interview (VI). I filled up my name as it should have been (and I thought it was, until 5 seconds later!) in the passport. But the snake eyes of the clerk, who matched it with my passport, found out that I had written my name wrong. According to my passport, I had no Given Name. My entire name was my surname. So I was wrong about my name all along. He told me that if I don’t fill up my name as in passport, there will be a problem in my VI. It was all weird since I have once traveled to USA with this passport, and by giving my name as it should have been. Evidently enough, my B1 visa had my name correct. The Given Name field indeed was Deepak here. It was funny that nobody had noticed that till now. I failed to notice the discrepancy for a whole 9 years.
The clerk suggested that I write my name like in passport in all matters henceforth. I didn’t think so. I didn’t want strangers to call me Mr. Deepak Ranganathan, and my friends to call me “” (I don’t know how to pronounce a nullity of characters)

I told him I’m not paying the fee. He asked me the quintessential question of modern day bankers, “Why Sir?”

Like in
Telephone caller: Hello sir, we are offering an excellent personal loan for you.
Me: Not interested
Caller: Why Sir?

“I’d rather change my name in the passport before scheduling the VI”, I replied.

So I was here in Palakkad, for a vacation of 10 days, one of my mission objectives being the change I have to make in my passport. The lesser objective was to be a couch potato at home, which would have succeeded, if not for the constant power cuts which made sure that I moved around so that I didn’t sweat.

On Tuesday, I set off on my crusade to the passport office – a grueling journey of 3 hours in shaky buses with little padding on the seats and not enough room for your legs. It was close to 10am by the time I reached there. The queue was already a gargantuan slithering python. Slowly it moved until there were about 10 people ahead of me. It was 1pm. Closing time already. We pleaded and cried to the lady at the counter. It was just a matter of 12 more people. She was ruthless when she asked us to come back the next day. After having so many trysts with trouble, I should have seen this coming. I start to wonder if a little optimism is a dangerous thing. It seems like that to me. Murphy’s law is a fundamental principle around which the world revolves.

The next day, I caught the 5am bus, so that I will be in the forefront in the queue. Luckily enough, I was about 20th (!) in the queue at 8 am. The counter opened at 9am, I filed my application by about 10, and I was told I could collect my passport back at 3.30pm. I had to kill time till then. ( Wandering aimlessly in Malappuram was better than a bus journey to and fro) I had my breakfast, then went to an autowallah and asked him to take me to any cinema where a good movie was running. Unfortunately (again!), there was only one where a morning show was there. The movie was “Malabar Wedding”. I hadn’t even heard of it until then. As my luck would always have it, the movie was a bore, except for a few scenes which were humorous. There were like 10 people in the entire theater.

It was about 2pm now. I went back and waited in the passport office. By 4, I was back in the return bus. Later that day, I couldn’t sleep on my back, nor could I stand up. My buttocks hurt because of 12 hours of journey in the last two days. My feet hurt because of hours of standing in the queue. But, as a consolation, I got my passport corrected.

I’m not frustrated by the whole incident. I think I have found an equilibrium with the whole trouble-seeking phenomena. Nowadays, I just blog about the trouble I faced, with an air of a connoisseur carelessly using French terms to philosophize. Sigh! That’s life!