Bite The Apple…Again!

“We are stuck with technology when what we really want is just stuff that works. How do you recognize something that is technology? A good clue is if it comes with a manual.” – Douglas Adams

The iPhone is here. But several philosophies propose that some unforeseen facets do not want it to stay. Launched at a time when inflation is trying to shoot the moon, political turmoil flipped like pancakes and exploding bombs playing hide and seek. All of this comes at a whopping cost of the middle class man’s monthly pay packet.

Critics and pundits and others who prey on this fabrication of capitalism have taken to this like vultures to an after-buffet dessert. It has a lot of features but they work in an undulated exasperating fashion. A Nokia 3500 Classic for instance is available at 1/5th the cost of the iPhone yet offers a lot more. The iPhone can play videos but can’t capture one, you can’t send an MMS unlike the 3500, and all you settle with is a pitiful and Spartan 2 mega-pixel camera, the same as in the 3500. The Bluetooth in the iPhone does not allow exchanging our precious illegal mp3’s either, again a service rendered by the 3500. The Bluetooth is only there for headset support. And both phones offer Email. And yes you may argue that the iPhone has 3G but it’s in a country without the appropriate network.

On Vodafone, the phone is expensive and the call charges are similar to what is offered in their standard tariffs and Airtel is unequivocally on the same page. It is turning out to be a classic case of duopoly. What it needs is a bit of competition in the market to get the prices down a bit. Then there is the 3G Network itself. The Department of Telecom has announced that it may hike the 3G spectrum usage charges to telcos making the road more knotty than it already is and couple that with the poor sales of the handset with both Vodafone and Bharti Airtel and you have a recipe of oversights. Vodafone introduced the 8GB and the 16GB versions for Rs. 31, 000 and Rs 36, 000 respectively. These were then slashed by Rs 1, 500 as Vodafone and Airtel together only managed to sell 1, 500 in the opening week. (Does this mean that they would slash prices down by Rs. 10,000 if they sell 10, 000 in a week?) Vodafone customer services are not surprised when asked whether the prices will come down further. The standard verbiage then follows, “I am sorry, I am not aware of that…”

Steve Jobs, the father of the iPhone, once got fired from his own company. He tried and succeeded and now earns more than you and me and the guy who fired him. The iPhone seems to be on a similar path.

In spite of all the above …the iPhone is truly a piece of art. It’s like the bastard love-child of Picasso and Michelangelo, smearing your ear with its tongue dipped in paint. It is a masterpiece, a looker. You have to be an ant to appreciate its grandeur, so you may walk around it and look up to it. It is a Pink Floyd concert, complete with strobe and pschydelia all on your fingertips. It is the Genesis of the very philosophy of l’art pour l’art. It is sleek, tender and seductive and it beckons to be used. The display looks clean and captivating while the interface is a crèche to use. Above all and aptly, it is an iPod you can talk from.

It’s like owning a 300kph Ferrari in Mumbai. Sure, people might say that it is impractical and that the roads are inadequate to unleash it, just like the iPhone 3G on a 2G network. But hey, at least you own a Ferrari. It works, and that is what matters. Forget logic; don’t reason; just indulge. Go buy it!

The Pole Missed The Pole

[15th March 2008]

Qualifying began at Albert Park, Melbourne for the Australian GP on Saturday 15th March 2008. Memories were still afresh of the three way title race of 2007 where Kimi Raikkonen pulled off a fascinating conclusion. A championship 21 years in the making since another three way battle between Nelson Piquet, Nigel Mansell and Alain Prost in 1986 with a similar outcome.

A few cars made its way onto the track and placed a bookmark as to which cars would lay down the rubber for the top end duopoly. The three teams to set interests on were, other than the ones at the top of course, on the basis of off season practice and testing were Red Bull and Toyota and also Force India for obvious reasons.

Over the course of the season, Red Bull, Toyota and Renault are expected to battle for mid-field supremacy, a place which proves consistently entertaining, when the Ferraris and McLarens abruptly decide to devise a perfect package which insipidly, at times, hog up uninterrupted race wins. Hopefully, without traction control this season, and consequently considering the numbers of cars which looked twitchy and gave armfuls of opposite locks during the entire Qualifying session, the season may prove to be a juggler’s delight.

Q1 saw Lewis Hamilton getting his McLaren twitching twice in a single lap, one occasion when held up behind a BMW. The BMWs did not particularly impress in the first session either with Nick Heidfeld locking up and Robert Kubica's run interrupted by Raikkonnen's inlap. Heidfeld eventually came good though but did not look strong enough. Hard compounds may be the attribute here. The Ferraris did not seem to be bothered as there was no reason to be. Felipe Massa finished 3rd and Raikkonen 5th. Hamilton finished 10th and Fernando Alonso 14th, another snobbish display of the guys on top. Nelsinho Piquet Jr and Sebastian Bourdais sadly did not make the cut and Giancarlo Fisichella disappointed a billion fans with no fault of his own. Kazuki Nakajima moved on to the next session though.

Q2 saw the potential birth of a possible inter-team rivalry, when Raikkonen could no longer take a part due to a fuel pressure failure. This leaves Massa a lot of freedom to concentrate for the rest of the session and perhaps for the race, and hopefully a thought that can fuel another Hamilton vs Alonso of 2007. The weather was hot and Kubica was drowsy as pictures were shown of him in a drink & drive state in his car. Mark Webber, married to a demonic wife called bad luck, had his brakes explode and crashed backwards into the barrier. Alonso was heard addressing about a lot of understeer and consequently with a subtle hint that he would not win the championship this year. Hamilton and Massa both looked fast but Hamilton’s lap was far from neat (read: aggressive). Ruebens Barrichello classified 11th and Honda were insane with subtle contentment. Toyota and Sebastian Vettel moved to the final session.

Q3 saw both the McLarens having a bit of an off track excursion which may have lost them a few hundredths of a second which can be accredited to a heavy fuel load added with an aggressive drive. Hamilton set a clean lap to get a pole. But the driver of the day was the sleepy Kubica, who even though went a bit off the track due to a very aggressive take of turn 12, managed to control the car well and settle for P2.

Move Over, The House Is Honking

There was a purpose of the Tata Nano, besides the obvious monetary gains. What was the first probable thought that crossed your mind when you heard of it? Ah, there’s a small little appliance which was needed in times of blind eyed dumbfounded pedestrians crossing, newly discovered craters and the odd excavations. Something that would free the air of congestion so you could probably smoke some more to that smog deprived lungs. A green car in maybe bright yellow, to cool the infernal summer days. What a pleasant little thought and small little prayer for the Tata’s. A small car with a halo. That was always the answer.

Now, in lieu of this new found enlightenment, the real question is, why on earth would you want a Toyota Innova? That is if you are not a Mr. Hilton or Mr. Marriot, of course, to ferry across truckloads of clients and customers. Otherwise I do not see the point of it.

If you are looking for a big car - and when I say big I imply that you are trying to say that you may be a geek with no resources or lateral thinking to work on it so you might as well meander in something really large to hide your inconspicuousness –then why won’t you go for the Lexus LX 40, Toyota Land Cruiser Prado or even an eye candy; the Range Rover, or even better maybe look up a car magazine. Why go around in an upgraded hearse? You are not doing really well to hide your ugliness you know.

7 Seats did I hear. Never, and I mean Never, have I seen this yatch-on-wheels at full capacity. This is even when it has a red ‘T’ within a circle branded on its rump. It has the turning radius of a planetary orbit. They say it is an MPV. I could find another use for it. Road blocks or maybe a speed bump for a Hummer. And please do not vouch for practicality. Because if you are practical, then please by all means by a Van. It can sardine more people in and they will also be place for a small rocket launcher, should you choose to start the Mumbai riots again. And if you are looking to curb your costs, maybe you should have stopped reading after the first paragraph.

Yes. I know that other cars do have imbecile drivers which may conjure up the similar results. But let me put it this way. In a Lexus LX40, with its high mounted drivers position, you look up to them, literally. You hit the road and think “Ah! It is a Lexus making a U-Turn” whereas the Innova “Uh! Are they setting up a road block? Is the city in any trouble?” I mean it is a 7 seater but there is only one inhabitant, the driver. That is a field day for an environmentalist. He might as well travel in a Vietnamese moped. Honest, how many times have you seen this at full capacity? And I mean all 7 seats.

Give yourself a week. Notice all the Innovas you do on the road. Check how many of them have disrupted your already miserable point A to B trip and for how many people was it worth in that piece of junk.

And what should do you do about it? Do what I do. Just loathe at the sight of it.

I Am On The Verge Of Death

It is mighty hard to summarize and quantify something that has been lost. It is like death, where your whole and content life passes in front of your eyes in a fleeting second. Except that these are not seconds but weeks or months. It is like the dawn of a new day, except that you had been up whole night lying in a dream only to realize that you have to close your eyes and face the ironical darkness of reality. You are therefore blind as the sun embarks on a journey showing the path to the other half of the planet.

You vouch just for a smile; actually a hint of one would suffice. That valorous turn of the head, eyes searching for your existence validating your existence. The touch that makes you feel a sense of reality that you are very close to the intangible.

It was not a dream but you are now very sleepy. And even if the next few hours may lie in the disdainful comfort of the mattress, with a promise of the same dose of reality during those lifeless and pitiless hours, it may be considered that have just woken up and have got to go to work.

This is not a Shakespearean propaganda of the ill fated, promised to meet his maker. This is not a discouraging discourse of a dissertation of a disappointment. This is not the mating call of a lost African mammal. I am therefore not a depressed homosexual Victorian poet high on cocaine. These are just words from corpse flying in the air with the flies that enjoy it.

A Contribution Of The Unemployed

There has been enough political banter over the rising cost of, I don’t know, everything. The economy is another keyhole for the peeping toms of politics and inflation is the naked wife in the bed of your worst enemy.

Don’t get me wrong, I have absolute faith in the resolve of the administrators of the country. There is the reformist Manmohan Singh, Mr. Finance P Chidambaram and the likes of I-most-definitely-have-a-plan-to-get-everything-right Montek Singh Ahluwalia, who in my book, are the right technocrats for the right country.

Over the last few years, or even the last few months, we have had a bullish trend in the stock market, a booming service sector and the richest men in the world trying to suck other nations dry in the name of globalization. They have laid some tracks for a runaway train. But the question is where is it heading?

I do not see any aim in the growth that we are insipidly coming across. Why? There are still farmers despondent and stuck in a tunnel with no signs of a low watt bulb. The evils of democracy do not measure that there are only pockets of development. What for an instance would curb consumption? Consumption is like the plague which consumes your precious and hard earned money into the capitalistic grinding machine. In the pre-liberalisation era income was low, so were savings and so were investments. Although most of the savings did not supply the banking system, but were mostly found in the digestive systems of the cupboard drawers.

Then there was education. Most of the population, 10-15 years back, between ages 18-25, were keeping themselves literate as a form of investment. Not only this investment has blossomed but also the same age group today has found itself employed. It’s of course not their fault that they had an opportunity, but is the same money they earn is spent on further economic investments you suppose? No.

Would it be largely possible, a neurotic brain that links liquor with urination, Nike with Michael Jordan’s leaps, utilizes them in a sport that involves two minutes for a delivery only to find the batsman timidly defending it, that he thinks that the money that he earns leads to a summarized decisions in the private sector. Honestly, the monetary and fiscal policies are not going to change this, just as the fattest democracy in the world has displayed all its shortcomings but for a strange and vivid reason, it has worked. The economy is not going to be in shambles for the next decade and we can be all fat, greasy and obese and obtuse in the head like how the Americans are. We have our DLF Premier League and we shall never lose our politics.

Those are my two paise. Hope it doesn’t contribute to the increasing money supply.

"How May I Help..."

A degenerative condition, the brain suffered and the thoughts faded. Words drooled off and the tongue had dried. The immortal was imprisoned in a never-ending loop of ironical pattern of words, words he liked, but not those in the prison. Impaled in a prison where he was greased up, ready for penetration. There was no hope or faith left, just the bicycle with its rusted spokes with a missing seat. “Up yours!” it beckoned, “right where the sun don’t shine”. Click! These were the sweet words which ended most of the conversations. Other synonymous and broadly consensual words followed. This was the most diplomatic it got with a thorough gentleman’s agreement in place.

It’s all over now. No sweet goodbyes.

There’s Something About…

Another day lies in ruins of the tumultuous decisions that needed a course and a direction worthy of an infant imagination. Maybe it is the motor skills or maybe it is the gratification of absolute stupidity which overpowers simple human thought.

It starts with an appalling ride constantly on the brink of a back breaking and laborious journey on a beastly yet trivial destination. The paradoxical ride to a glory withheld within the confines of absurdity. The next 540 minutes belong to comatose induced subjugation, a pitiful state of oblivion. And miraculously, there is an odd sign of life. Far away in the corner, there lies the reason of an electrifying resurrection, the kiss of life, a chance of resuscitation, but the time is grueling and we could only pray for the time to end.

And so it ends. …538…539…540…A final cardiovascular jolt and the zombie is no more. Instead there is a lost kid trying to find its way back through a crevice of disparaging pain. But it does complete it. It is the final touch to result in a carefully grafted deliberation. It then just lies there, like the calm before the storm, except that there would be no storm. And although it may be dark, that is the only sign of light.

At the end of it all, it is the orifice on the face which come together, and spread wide and far from the valley of tulips to the serene brook which blankets the vanity of the disdainful existence that is me.

Mackichan Hall Superstar

Hardly a month passes by in which there is not something new in Mackichan Hall. What was merely a bold idea of the Rev. Dugald Mackichan yesterday has launched into reality today. The achievement would not be possible without creative thinking. There is an image of Mackichan Hall that is firmly set in many Wilsonians. Having said that, Mackichan Hall is a home away from home. Academics are merely related to books but this hostel offers a kind of pragmatic perspective which is unmatched simply due to the congregation of students not only from different courses but also from various parts of the country. Secular, isn’t it?

Ubiquitous languages, sixty odd rooms, sixty odd students, one spectacular event. Mackichan Hall has put itself on show, is even showing off a bit. There are captivating examples to be found in its pavilion, on the stages and at various events: the imposing instead of the ironic, vision instead of tradition.

The Hostel is unlike any other as it grooms its residents from day one. Every resident absorbs and inculcates the soul of this archaic settlement. And this experience is enhanced by dynamic and seasoned ‘inmates’ who work together in the furtherance of the revered nomenclature.

Mackichan Hall is a management course offering unpaid internship. A close student-student interaction helping in developing case studies and research projects: about life! It is the invisible lubricant that propels the wheels of life. Social networking is one key advantage spiritually attained here. The ultimate enlightenment!

It’s a show, a window onto the world, an attractive landmark - Mackichan Hall has it all. Stroll around it and you will get the feeling that everything is interconnected. The world of Mackichan Hall, a network of thoughts, like the spreading roots of trees. The structure of this exhibition is designed to be transitory in nature and, by the end of the year, all that will remain will be the memories.

Yours truly is a student of economics, as a major, and what I have gained from this home away from home is: efficient allocation of resources, monetary management, a working example of the investment multiplier and human resource development – ignore the jargons!

I am a Mackichan Knight. What’s your excuse…?

5th February 2005

http://www.mackichanhall.com/

"We The Lab Rats..."

http://sabrang.com/news/2007/11sep07.htm

Mumbai has changed since the 1992-93 riots. I was 10 at the time and since that day I had always feeling that the city lives on the starting gun of a tense predicament of a volcanic violence about to erupt anytime. It was said of the September 11 attacks that the action was a resultant of an apathetic junk culture that prevailed in the country for almost a decade where the OJ Simpson trial and the Clinton sex story grabbed the headlines monotony. In case you have missed the previous statement, I'll reiterate, Apathy. Ten years of oblivion and then the American Dream was introduced to Freddy Kruger.

The Mohalla Committee is an acknowledgement of a convenient divergence and distraction from the mainstream ideology of the proper channelised look towards the riots. It sounds like a 15 minute session with a psychiatrist where the only concern is how the sessions are to be prolonged. Once the session stops, the only question would be - What would be the withdrawal effects?

Suketu Mehta, in his book 'Maximum City', has put the city on show the actions in front of eyes our are superficial and intentions are well concealed. Has anyone wondered why the hell Madanpura (an area of Mumbai Central) has stored anti-aircraft guns for and where and how in blazes do they come in from?

What was the motive? "You could keep the guns as long as you do not use them..."

I felt that this was an important question which will never be answered and blind estimations consider the imperativeness of the Mohalla Committee.

It has been 15 years on since the plague but I would always wonder - What about the rats that carried it?

Silence

Opinions are like heat-seeking missiles, revenue of mere reinforcement of the thoughts you would agree with. Look the other way and you would enlighten yourself with the blinding eclipse of a reflective contemplation.

Hush…

Peaceful, serene thought provoking and with the air of a distinguishable anomaly from a noisy abnormality, paints a picture of a canvas so vivid and vibrant like those of the empty spaces on a clear blue sky. The endearing wait is for the rain clouds, expected past the sunlight on this clear blue sky, to light the sky with a noisy clap and crack it open and let it run like a leaky faucet. Drip, drip is the subsequent sound of annoyance. God is the only plumber and he has thrown away his wrench. The water rises to the neck and chaotic scenes subdue parched minds.

A feeble yet annoying drip leads to a chaotic drowning.

So please feel free to Shut Up!