Commodities in Coin

I have read this story a long time ago about the smuggling of coins made with silver in India to Bangladesh. It was fascinating to me because the story told me that the metal that these coins were made is worth more than the face value of these coins.

So why do I revisit this story after decade and half? I have a friend who is 76 and never fails to pick up a penny if he sees one on the street. He told me how he had collected coins like that and recieved $500 from the bank for the coins he picked off of the street. He questions 'How can a country not respect a value of its pennys? It is worth something'. It got me thinking why people do not value penny and what had happened the coins in India. They were smuggled and allowed to be smuggled because the people felt there have value to them as they 5, 10 and 25 paise.

I mentioned about the story of the low end coins from India that were once smuggled to Bangladesh. He was amazed to hear it and surprising there was show on TV called '60 minutes' which ran story recently after our conversation.

I wanted to see if I can find the story online somewhere that I read in a Telugu daily some 15 years ago.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/6766563.stm
http://www.sepiamutiny.com/sepia/archives/004528.html

Reaping flowers and Vegetables

A few weeks ago, my wife had this crazy idea that she wanted a garden just like her home in India. I am like there goes another case of 'Just like in India'. But not the one to say no, I agreed. The experience that followed was an eye opener.(Please read eye as wallet.)

So we went to Home Depot and began looking for flowers and pots to hold them. I almost fainted at the price of each flower plant and the pots. I saw this bunch of Mums for $5. The only place I am going to spend my five dollars are at Subway where any foot long sub is now only $5. I said that to her and she replied we can have our dinner today at Subway. It was Saturday and we are vegetarians on Saturday. I was in no mood for Veggie Delight. I understood well that I should listen to what she wants and avoid the trouble of having to do something that I don't want.

So she picked some mums, gazanias, violets and other flower plants that I have no idea what they are. Not to be left out, I said what about some vegetables. So were added kung pao peppers, violet bell peppers and vine tomatoes. I was like these should be enough let’s check out.

She says no no no no no. I don't want my flowers in these tiny containers. We need some nice flower pots and also some big trays for your vegetables she said. OK let’s go I say hurrying her to the pots section. We bought about 5 porcelain pots for some indoor decorative plants we already had, 4 plastic big pots for the flowers and three 18 inch trays one for the vegetables and two for flowers. Did you know that the trays in white are more expensive than the trays colored brown? Damn you racist color biased Home Depot shouted my inner self.

So I say again let’s check out. She says no no no no no. We need potting soil. The soil that we have with pots is not enough. The plants will die in a day on transplanting she says. She had a point. But who on earth in India buys mud and soil. Wasn't the whole point to have a life style like in India? She says our family always bought it. I thought my family was smart not to buy mud. We have enough soil in our backyard for plants. But I was hungry and did not want to start a losing fight. I also thought how much can a soil cost. All they have to do is package free soil in a plastic bag. A dollar at most, I guess. Was I WRRROOONNNNGGGG.

There are hundreds of soil types - garden soil, potting soil, 3 month, 4 month, everlasting, 1cf, 2cf, 5cf etc. And none of them was close to a dollar I estimated earlier. I picked two 1cf bags that weighed about 15 lbs each and put them on the cart. I said is there anything else. Nope we can go now unless you want more flowers she says. My response was No thank you we can go now. I fainted again as the register was ringing into 3 digits. Home Depot was hearing the sweet sound of cha ching while I was paying for mud.

By the time we reached home it was 3PM. We had our lunch on our way home. It took almost 3 more hours to transplant all the plants in the pots and trays. We also shouted and scolded each other as to why each of us was doing wrong. After 2 hours, I guess she was tired of planting the virtual garden or was tired of my incessant knowledge transfer of gardening skills and how to do them right. She left me on the balcony and never came back leaving me to finish my vegetables. I planted them all and went to be bed tired that night.

The next day I was talking to my friend and told him about my gardening expedition. He mocks me 'What? Are you going to reap flowers?’ I don't know but I hope to see some flowers in my wife's hand and atleast a pepper in my food for 120 bucks.

I did see some flowers and the peppers coming out today after about a month. I also saw some flower plants die and the peppers infested with achids. That's my next episode to get rid of those tiny slimy achids. I never thought I will be a farmer which was my ancestral occupation. I guess I have to now, if I am to see something out of investment.

Pure Vegetarian?

Last week my wife received a phone call from a friend whom she invited to visit us for dinner. My wife’s friend gave a courtesy call to confirm that her husband and herself will not be coming on Saturday but can make it on Sunday. My wife makes her favorite chicken curry and biryani on Sunday which is a customary habit brought over from her family. So she asked casually if they eat chicken. That was it. I could hear a barrage of hysteric cry on the phone from the other side. The cry was so loud that I could overhear her from a tiny cell phone that my wife was talking through while we were driving through a noisy intersection.

I know this post of mine will catch the nerves of some, but it does catch my nerve whenever I hear them say this - 'I am a 100% pure vegetarian' and they ramble about hysterically as to what should not be in their food as if the whole world out there is conspiring to get them to eat meat. I mean what does the phrase ‘100% pure vegetarian’ mean anyway.

If the above Para has some of you vegetarians fuming, sorry this is not meant to hurt every vegetarian out there. But please read through for what I am saying. I understand and respect your way of life. You want to be vegetarian whatever your reason might be. Good for you.

There seems to this superior feeling that they belong to higher strata in society fizzled by the Hindu theory of quad structured society and the top of it being the vegetarian sect. This sense of standing on a higher pedestal makes them look down upon us meat eating non-vegetarians that are bent on bringing them down to our level by contaminating their food with Non-Veg. Sorry to put a brake on your fast moving fancy dreams but there is no such conspiracy. You can have you veggies and leave our meat alone.

But what exactly does 100% pure vegetarian mean. Isn't 100% mean absolute pure that you have to qualify the 100% pure. Somebody is poor with maths. So is it % based on time or ingredients. This is what I mean. I eat veggies 5 days a week. Does that make me 71% pure? Or doesn't that qualify. If someone eats diary products like milk and cheese vegans don’t consider them vegetarians. So those of you who consume diary products are 82% pure vegetarians and vegans are 100%.

If you put the factoring of %s aside, socializing with some of these becomes a nightmare. I had a friend that I used to go out with. He had consumed chicken and beef before for a long time, but coming from a family of vegetarians, his sister took an oath to never to eat meat when he came to USA. Doesn't it seem like Manoj Kumar's movie and all so touching? Yes the story is touching but not socializing with him. So every time I went to have lunch/dinner to a restaurant, it was the same story. He would begin the order with 'I am a 100% pure vegetarian. I don't eat chicken, no beef, no pork, no fish, and no eggs'. He would go on and on enumerating all the animals, with his fingers out and counting them that would possibly be eaten by the lowly meat eating people. God! The guy taking an order would look at me and I would try hard to not meet my eyes with him and sometimes hide under the table to avoid embarrassment. It is even more hilarious if the restaurant was Chinese. After all his rambling there would be egg in his fried rice and pork in his spring roll.

For those of you who do not what kind of vegetarian you are a quick Google on types of vegetarian will provide the following classification and some say you can say vegetarian only if you are vegan.
Pescatarian
Flexitarian/Semi-vegetarian
Lacto-ovo- vegetarian
Lacto-vegetarian
Ovo-vegetarian
VeganRaw
Vegan
Macrobiotic
Fruitarian

So next time please specify what kind of vegetarian you are or just say you are a vegetarian. We all know what you mean. You do not need to qualify 100% and pure.

But the vegetarians have their own problems that I am fully aware of. I am a forced vegetarian for 2 days a week. Dont ask me why? It will be one of those movie stories albiet a cliched chick movie at that. Married men have to make a lot of sacrificies to keep the lady happy. The options to vegetarians dining out is very limited. The standard is Taco Bell with the order being 'Chalupa replace meat with beans por favor'. At BK it is the Veggie burger and at subway the Veggie delight. You need 2 footlongs of those Veggie delights from Subway to satisfy your hunger. There is also Qdoba that have veggie burritos and my favorite is Mexican Gumbo. If you have tried it, you should. It is like Indian sambar rice, only it is Mexican and very tasty. The list seems to be long enough but if you think about it for a minute not every place you live or work has all the 4 places I mentioned above. In most cases you have at most one of them and you are stuck with eating the same thing over and over again.

Friendly Neighbourhood Bummerman

I have been thinking of writing about this man that I see several times week ever since I joined my current client. I park my car about 4 blocks from the building that I work now. About a block north of my work building is a Bridge and underneath the bridge, which is part of a huge parking lot, is the home of this middle aged man I had mentioned earlier.

Imagine this - The story is that of a comic strip super hero. The season is peak winter where it is snowing about 2 to 3 days a week for about 6 inches. Read the following with a baritone of a western movie opening - When the weather is cold, the roads are slippery, all hope of a smooth walk wades and good grip on a shoe can't help, here comes the friendly neighborhood bummerman who will clean the pavement for you and sprinkle salt so to make your commute to work easy.

As you might have guessed I stole the phrase from Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman. I like Spiderman who doesn’t?

This guy is a bum who had made his home under the bridge for quite sometime now. But he is no ordinary Bum. If you have been to Philadelphia or New York you cannot escape the sight of these people - the Bums. The only emotion on seeing these guys is fear and suspicion. The other thing is the stench which makes you run from them fast and a mile far. But they are present everywhere and you wish you had no nose as you keep encountering them every other block or two. After a while you get used to their presence as they become familiar faces. This man is one such familiar face.

But this guy other than his way of living and style of dressing (if I can call it a style) is a regular guy. He is very sociable and social conscious. He keeps the half block under the bridge really clean and well maintained. He cleans away the snow in winter and sprinkles salt. In fact he does the job that the Philadelphia City must be doing and he does it regularly and better than them. As for being sociable, I have seen him talk to different commuters who park their car in the parking lot under the bridge and are on their way to work or back from work. He seems to have a good following among the fairer sex especially.

But this is only a part of the story. The other part is what I can see of his belongings on the other side of the cage partition of the parking lot. He has a lot of books and they are no ordinary books. Most of them are undergraduate school books ranging from sciences, mathematics to finance and marketing. He also has a pile of new National Geographic as if he has a subscription delivered to his door.

No he does not have the regular free news paper metro that other Bums use to make it their beds. In fact I saw no traces of news paper. He has a pile of clothes and bedding on one side. I once saw a huge set of dumbbells as well and other hardware set like nuts, bolts, screws etc. I have no idea where he gets them and where they go after a week or so. He always refurnishes his home with new decor.

I have seen him read books most of the time when he is not chatting with people or when he is not cleaning the pavement and his home. I saw him read books related to finance and marketing most of the time. I have also seems some books placed a little far away from him home on the pavement as if to suggest the books could be taken away by anyone interested. Most of them get washed away by rain or gets trashed. Who wants used books and one read by a Bum anyway?

I couldn't help notice the title of this book on his pile this morning - 'How to save money, Smart'. I smiled a bit at the irony of his life and book he was reading. I thought it is a little bit too late for him to be smart with money now. If he was smart with Money during his early days he wouldn't have been in this situation, I judged because he was normal by all other means.

But as I was discussing this guy with my other colleagues and they had noticed him too. His mention lead to huge discussion about the merits of his lifestyle. He does not have to pay rent nor taxes. He does not need car to commute as he begs for stuff right there at the parking lot. His commute to work is zero minutes. He does not catch the eye of the officials by being friendly to the people and cleaning up the pavement regularly. It is less likely that one reports a Bum living under a bridge when he helps them from getting hurt. No burden of family and he has the house for all himself.

In fact one of my colleagues from NJ mentioned about how he noticed a bum who carried a monthly pass to New York City daily. He would be in bum’s attire in the morning and in the evening he would have a regular wear like anybody else. The bum’s attire was his work wear and being a bum in New York was his profession. He must have been making quite well to have monthly pass to NY City from South Jersey.

I guess our Philadelphia friendly neighborhood bummerman was really reading an appropriate book and living the life of the book title.

Why I went natural?

This is the story of how I turned from using regular sugar to natural sugar aka honey. Here is how it went.

Once upon a time there lived a gentleman who was happy having his occasional coffee with regular sugar. He was healthy and had BWI of 21 so to say he did not need artificial sugars nor did he like them. In fact he hated the taste they had and also the fact that they had side effects.

His lifestyle changed a bit after he married and moved to Scranton. He had to travel once a week to Philadelphia which was about 2:45 hrs one way. So to reach his office in Philadelphia by 9:00 AM he would start at around 6:00AM and in order to do that he had to wake up at 5:00AM. So that is quite early for this lazy, wake up at 8:00AM, casual person. His life turned upside down with this but he found a partner in caffeine.

Being an avaricious reader, he found that too much caffeine is bad and found that Tea is a better alternative as it has lower Caffeine and has antioxidants that are good for his allergies. So he began to drink Tea instead of coffee. But this habit turned out not so good to his young bride who loved her sleep a lot more than he does.

He pleads to his wife to make his Tea on the day of his journey. She abides to his request despite her love for sleep. But the story does not end there. If you remember the story is about how he went natural. Well here is what happened next.

The first day she made Tea she used Sweet N Low. Being a nit picker he instantly recognized the taste of non cane artificial sugar. Not only did the sugar taste differently, but he could taste nothing but sugar. It was as if he was drinking High Fructose Corn Syrup. What happened was she used about 5 packs of Sweet N Low in an
8oz Tea.

He got rid of all the Sweet N Low that got into his home accidentally. This made him feel that all will be fine despite his hardships now that he will have his good caffeine friend for company. Not so fast said his wife non-verbally.

The next time around he found himself drinking an exotic tea that could be found nowhere on earth. He had tasted all kinds of tea including black tea with no sugar. But he was drinking a Double Salted Tea this time. In her sleepish nonchalance she had used two spoons of salt from the container next to the sugar. If she was awake, she would have noticed the blue/black cover with a girl in yellow frock carrying an umbrella. She did notice nothing of that sort. All she saw was salt was white and she knew sugar was white.

Now the worried king (in his dreamland) wondered how he can fix this. He was not willing to make the tea himself. He had lots of other things to take care of that morning the important of which is getting up at 5:00AM which he would snooze to wake up at 5:30AM from when he would be like a chicken with it's head cut out. Nor does he have the extra 10 Min's to take a break at the service plaza for coffee.

So he decided that only way is to find something that was not sugar but sweet. He was watching TV one evening while thinking for a solution. He was watching Seinfeld his all-time favorite show and during break they had a clip of an interview with Jerry Seinfeld the writer/producer of the show. He was talking about his break since the show became syndicated and was promoting his new movie where he provides a voice over to the prime character. The name of the move - Bee Movie.

All those who say TV is an idiot box are nuts he thought. A solution to his problem stung like a Bee. He put on his shoe, took his jacket and went out to his favorite store the mighty Wal-Mart. He went to the cereal aisle and bought himself an 8lb Honey bottle.

He called his dear life mate and said sweetly....
HONEY! use this HONEY!!!!

They lived naturally ever after.

Dont Ask Wont Tell

Here are some of the questions that I am frequently asked that I am amused by, peeved at and most often than not, I do not have answers to. These are typical questions asked mostly by people who do not know me well but do ask me. I categorize them into 2 categories.
First Category: By Indians (@Work, general acquaintance outside, in India during vacation etc)
1. How long are you in US?
They ask this to assess where I stand monetarily and immigration status.
2. Do you have a GC? If not what stage is it in?
If I say Yes I would be lying as I don’t have one. If I say NO, the person asking is already comparing me with people (s)he know. My long lost cousin XYZ got his GC in 3 years and he was not even half as smart as me. This guy must be worse than him or he must have done something to tick off the INS.
3. It has been 8 years and you still don't have a GC? (Put a shocked expression in the asking persons face here).
Yes I do not have a GC even after 8+ years in US.
4. If you don't mind may I know you Salary/Pay?
Yes, you can know. I am getting paid well enough to survive.
5. Is it true that Indians are treated like second grade citizens?
You don't need to answer this. Even before you can answer this, the person asking has an answer and that it Yes, they are treated second grade.
6. Is it true that Indians are nothing but cheap labor in US?
Don't even bother to answer again. Answering yes will only make you a cheap labor in a distant US who left his home country and become a US supporting traitor. Answering no will only strengthen the asking person’s convention that I am lying and Indians are indeed cheap labor in US. You lose anyway and you cannot change the opinion.
7. Did you think about starting a company? A person that I know who knows somebody owns a company. Why don't you?
The above question irritates me to the core. I am not interested in owning a company. I am happy working for somebody else where I have to go at 8 and come home by 6:00PM, relax, watch a game and sleep. Is that a wrong thing? Should I own a company to be considered successful?
8. Why did you not do your MBA? Do you have plans to do your MBA?
This is one more question that every Indian has asked me. Well I do not want to do MBA. In fact I don't even know if I want to go into Management for now. If I answer this, I would be considered not a Management material. If I say Yes, I want to but was not able as I had no time then I am considered not an MBA material. Either way the Q person has made an assumption on me that I not an M Material.

Now onto the other side of the Globe. Questions asked by Americans. There are again questions asked by people who do not know me well or have not attempted to know anything about India or just do not care but do ask because I happened to be there.
1. Do they celebrate Christmas in India? Do Indians celebrate Christmas?
No they do not is my answer unless the person is a Christian. Christmas is not a National event. It is a religious festival celebrated by Christians. Just because 90% of Americans are Christians and most celebrate it; it does make it a National event. I am a Hindu and hence do not celebrate Christmas. It's like asking an American in India 'Do they celebrate Diwali in America?' Do they? I hate holiday season when this question is bombarded repeatedly.
2. Are there still Elephants in Indian Streets?
Yes believe it or not this question was asked and no he was not joking. My answer was 'Yes, they still do. In fact we used to own one that we used to drop me at school and pick me up back'. Yes I did answer that way. A stupid answer to a stupid question.
3. Are there still snakes and snake charmers in India?
Yes, there are. But India is developed now. So all of us carry anti-venom in our pockets just in case we got bit by a stray cobra.
4. What is your stand on the American war on Iraq?
If I say I do not support, I am considered an anti American leech sucking the American economy.
If I say I do support, I am considered a bigot who is trying to suck up to an American.
5. Who do you support Republican or Democrat?
If I answer Democrat, I am branded an Anti Capitalistic Socialist.
If I answer Republican, I am branded a Conservative hypocrite who forgot secularism.
6. Who would you see as a Democratic candidate Obama or Clinton?
If I say Obama, I am an elitist male chauvinist.
If I say Clinton, I am a conservative racist.
7. Do you want to stay back in this country or go back?
At first I thought, the person asking the question wanted to hear that I should go back. I was more than happy to answer Yes as that was my intention. But to my surprise I was shocked to hear the response from the first person that asked me this question and every other person that asked me the same question. Whenever I said Yes, they were shocked and said 'Why? You don't like this country? Isn't US more developed than India. Aren't the living conditions way better off that in India?'. I was not prepared to answer such barrage of questions and now I got used to their shocked expressions and questions.
When I say yes I want to stay back, I know what they are thinking as well. They make me the cause of Americans losing jobs as I am stole one of their jobs permanently. This I can tell from their demeanor.
8. You do have a HDTV and/or XBOX.
If I say Yes to either of them, I am a show off.
If I say No I am a pauper who should be shun.


This is general, if I am asked by a stranger at an Indian Grocery Store or Wal-Mart as to what I do, I know what to do? I run away from him/her. That's a Quixtar/Amway candidate calling you and you are better off at least 10 miles from them.

57 Beechurst No More

I try to visit Morgantown whenever I can or at least once a year. Last year I was in Morgantown for a Football Game when my parents were visiting us and before that casually to meet friends. The latter time I took a couple of our (actually my wife's undergraduate friend and her cousin) friends, my brother and my wife to Morgantown. We had fun time and my friends liked it Morgantown a lot. Why would anybody not like the second heaven on Earth? The first of course being Vizag.

Our friend liked it so much that when her parents were around this time, she wanted to show Morgantown to them and asked us if we could accompany them so I can show them the best places in and around Morgantown. I was absolutely happy to do so and quickly convinced my wife to go along with me as it was her friend that we were meeting.

I took them to the regular places - Cooper's rock (The Park was actually closed for the season and won’t open until a month or so), Valley Falls, Campus etc. I tried to have lunch at my favorite place in Morgantown Black Bear which is a fusion Mexican restaurant. But no one was willing to experiment and preferred to try my other suggestion Asia Garden which was also closed for the time by the time we went there. So we settled for QDoba as all the other good places were not of liking to my other fellas.

So while having my lunch, it began to sink in the reality of what I saw on my little detour on the way to Black Bear. I had four addresses during my period in Morgantown and none holds better memories than my last home at 57 Beechurst Ave. I had 5 wonderful roommates who were in very similar situation as I was and came to Morgantown about the same time I did. So the chemistry was great and we had a blast.

I wanted to park behind the house and take a minute or two recollecting the good old days. So I drove in to the parking lot next to the church that was to North of the building. I drove behind the church and was expecting to see my old home behind it. To my shock there was nothing but asphalt laden parking lots with perfect lines for the car. It would appear as if the house never existed if you have not been there.

I felt a void in my memories. The old cricket games we had in my memory appeared to no long have the house in the backyard. I was cooking in the open parking lot now every Wednesday. We were all watching a horror movie 50 ft in the air every Friday night.

I felt a huge emptiness .. 57 Beechurst is now more. I felt bad that I should have taken a picture of it before I left. All that I have left is memories of good old days.

Helping Hand on the Road

These are some pessimistic days. You are afraid to talk to strangers or to provide help to a strange. There are always news about shootings by strangers barging into a store or a school. The parents are always telling their kids never talk to or trust a stranger. But there are few people out there that are willing to provide a helping hand in times of need.

Why I am so preachy about helping hands today? Well today I was on the receiving end of help from a stranger in the city of Brotherly Love. My current work situation takes me to Philadelphia once a week for working at my clients site. To avoid the heavy commuter traffic, I start around noon on my way back to Scranton.

So today, I was going to my car from work. I was near my car and I see a car near the parking region by the roadside. As I was crossing the car, the lady in the car brings down her window and asks me if it was safe to park there to go to the Art Museum. There was a Frida Kahlo art gallery display going on at the Museum. I assumed that she was asking if it was OK to park there without getting a parking ticket. Having lived close by for 2 years, I knew the place well. I answered it was OK to park there and that the Museum was less than 10 mins walk from there on such a sunny hot beautiful day. So she parks the car and move along to my cars that was only few feet and 3 car spaces away.

On reaching my car, I tried unlocking with my keyless and there was this most dreaded silence from my care. There was no sound of the unlocking and I knew I had repeated my mistake. I done this 3 times before and this was 4th but first on my Toyota. Now I am thinking, I could call my Insurance and wait for about 2 hours. I could call my colleagues and get laughed at for the next 2 weeks. Neither did look very encouraging as I was in a mood to get home ASAP after a tough week at work.

So, I decided to take my chances on talking to the lady as I had a Jump Start cables with my Emergency Kit in my car. I approached her car from behind which was a mistake. People always are always apprehensive when they see strangers approaching from behind. On seeing me she lowered her windows and then I said 'Are you on a rush to go somewhere'. Having said that I thought I could have used a better opening line. She had this confused frown in her face and replied 'No, why'. She probably was thinking I was hitting on her. I explained to her the story, said that I needed a Jump Start, that I have the cables and that it would not take long. Little did I know that the cables were faulty and it would longer than anticipated.

Luckily there was a half car space available in front of my car and she came over on that side. I set up the cables and asked to start. I tried my car but it would not start. I came out and readjusted my car and tried again. It did not help. I came out and said it is not working. She was very patient and said give it a few minutes. I struck a conversation and found that her name was Andrea from New Jersey and she was waiting for her friend to join her. While I was waiting to start my car again, there comes a man who could be in his 50s. He apparently lives in the house directly behind my car on the street and said that he noticed my lights were on the previous night. I figured that by now.

He then said, the wires might be little loose and he fiddled with the plugs and asked me try again. No use. He said that there seems to be not enough current to provide the spark. He says the it might need thicker cables and he went to fetch his own personal cables from his car that was parked a block away. I was surprised by his helpful nature. Philadelphia never seemed better than it was today.

He brings back the cable and set them up himself. I tried them and Voila, the car starts. He tells me not to stop the car for sometime or go to a Gas Station to have my battery recharged. He asked when I was coming back. Next week, I say. On hearing it he handed over the Jump Start cable and said I can drop it off at his door steps when I come back next week. I think, he felt I might need them again. I thanked Him and said I sure will. I think he mentioned his name to be David.

I think the spring is finally here. The cold days of sinisterness are over. I feel good. I have hope in mankind. Before I sound like Barack Obama I will end the story here. I think it was Karma or something. Why do I say Karma...it is a story for another day of my life in good old Morgantown.

Women, Where Art Thou?

I was talking to a friend of mine recently and he mentioned that he postponed his visit to India. The reason being he want to go when someone in his family gets married so he can have a fun time. Nothing wrong with that but the fact that all the eligible people being guys. Apparently it has become difficult to find suitable girls for these guys. It looks like he has to wait a long time.

Gone are the days when a guy has to say yes and then there would be a lot of calls from girl's families to arrange a match. Not any more. Everyone I speak of late, know more and more guys who are in the match making queue with a long wait ahead of them.

I personally know atleast 4 guys who are raring to go and get married. Alas! the girl is not to be found. The same story is repeated from my wife's side family as well. Their's is a huge family and astonishingly they do not have a single suitable girl. But guys there are a gazillion galore.

Where must have the girls gone? If you look at statistics, there are 927 ladies for every 1000 guys and that explains it (The serious consequences are a different discussion). The stat is alarmingly low in infants where it is 880 for 1000. The stats are even more glaring when compared them with other countries where women are 1045 for every 1000 men which is understandable as women are known to live longer.

So It looks that 7 in 100 guys have to remain unmarried unless it becomes acceptable socially and legally for a girl to have multiple spouses. Divine intervention is needed to change this imbalance. And sure enough God has heard my pray. My friends who had kids recently were all girls. Long live the girl child.

For a more serious perpective please view the links below
Sex ratio: the hidden horrors
An Overview India's Population
The Hindu : Men without women

Hey Kiddo

I recently visited my Dentist for a dental clean. I wish I did not make that visit. The doctor visits me and says 'Hey Kiddo Sit down here'. At first, I thought I did not hear well. She must have said something in her accent that I could not understand or did not know.

People have said to me that I look younger than I am. I have frequently been asked what school am I going to or Do I go to school. I would be flattered sometimes and disgusted sometimes depending on who asks it and how, but mostly it was the former. Who does not want to feel young? Not me for one.

All that self flattery vanished when my dentist called me again 'Turn your head this side KIDDO'. This time I could not have missed it. At first I thought she was playing. But her demeanor did not suggest so from what I can say as good a judge of demeanor I am. I have always wanted to say something funny with my doctor like Nag says to the Doctor on his hospital bed 'Will you marry me' in the movie ‘Geethanjali’. That movie and that dialogue have left a lasting impression on me when in teens. I definitely cannot say that now. She thinks I am a kid. Has she gone blind or something? Did she not notice my receding hairline? (On any other circumstance I would highly prefer anyone not noticing it).

I came out of her office in pain both mentally and physically. Physically because of the numbness from injecting the anesthesia in my cheeks that they did with 4 injections. And mentally because the world thinks that I am a kid. I began thinking nobody takes me seriously at home or at work. I believe that is why no suggestions of mine were considered in our team meetings despite their genuine greatness.

Had I looked older, I am lead to believe, everything else would fall in place. Oh my GOD! What am I to do, March Madness and NBA playoff are here and I need to concentrate on the scores. The leaking dish washer, that my wife asks me to look at, can wait and so can the smelling trash can. I digress into other domestic stuff. So I revert back to the original rant.

I wish to be in my Dad's shoes. He was on the other side of the window that I am in now for as long as I think of. He had premature hair graying. He was called uncle by people elder to him. He has finally reached a stage where he looks his age.
But his younger years were filled with such instances daily where people mistook him for 20-30 years older than he really is. He would always take it laughingly and would say what does it matter, everybody has to become old once, I only look old now and will be old soon enough. It was fine by him, but not to me. I even took up his cause against a 40 year old Marwadi airhead who called my 38 year old Dad 'Dadaji'.

After all that, when the world thinks I am young (in fact a kid), I wish I was in his shoes. So that night, I told my wife the story as to what happened. She said 'Don't worry. How does it matter what the world thinks. You cannot stop them. All that matters is what you perceive of yourself' and I began to feel better. I makes sense right. But wait a minute, did she say that because that she considers me a am kid too. NOOOOOOOOOO...