The Concerned for Working Children (CWC) is conducting a talk on All India Radio.

Nandana Reddy, Director – Development, CWC, will be talking about child rights and democracy on All India Radio in a two part series.

Name of the Programme: Interview on creating a better world for children

Frequency: MW 612 KHz

Date and Timings:
Part 1 – Friday, 25 August, at 9:15 pm
Part 2 – Wednesday, 30 August at 9:15 pm

(Received via e-mail sent to the Dream School Forum.)

I think many people in Bangalore must have watched this play already, either in English or in Kannada. The English version was named “A Heap of Broken Images”.

Arundathi Raje acted in the English version and Arundathi Nag acted in the Kannada version.
I had seen the English version and loved it and was told that the Kannada version was a lot better owing to Ms. Nag.

Girish Karnad is now staging a Hindi version of the same production with Ms. Nag in it.
My recommendation: Go watch it.

“Astronomers today voted to create the first scientific definition of the word “planet”, and Pluto did not make the cut.”, reports the Guardian in this article.

The world, a speck of dust in the universe, continues to rotate.

The people on this world, a speck on a speck of dust in the universe, are busy re-defining the definitions of the universe.

Music in the background – Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day.

“I am walking down the line that divides me somewhere in my mind.”
While the Milky Way is hurling itself towards some black hole in the centre of the universe.

Significance is relative.

Reading some of the Indian newspapers can be quite an amusing way to pass your time. Especially when you have exams looming around the corner.

The Indian Government, suddenly, does a turn-around and says that Colas are safe to drink.
It is just sheer coincidence, I would like to believe, that this shift in the government’s stance comes a few days after the US lobby expressed its displeasure at the way the US cola giants were being treated in this country.

A tribal woman allegedly committed ’sati’ in Madhya Pradesh on Monday. Yet the CM has termed it as a case of suicide, reports the ToI.
I would like to know how one differentiates ’sati’ and suicide, if the former was a voluntary act. And whatever might have been the reason, as of what little I know about the Indian penal code, both ’sati’ and suicide are deemed against the law.

A restaurant in Mumbai has earned the world’s (sic!) wrath for being named after Adolf Hitler, reports the ToI.
The restaurant is named Hitler’s Cross.
Too bad the world is cross with Hitler’s Cross.

Some bad news reserved for the end:
Your nights will no longer be sizzling.
The Government has prohibited adult content on TV.
However, I would like to know if there was any adult content being beamed all these days. I didn’t find anything; infact the only thing I got was a blister on my hand due to the excessive switching of channels. Gone are the days when Star TV used to take us to Utopia with its “Bad Timing”, “Wild Sargasso Sea”, “Lake Consequence” etc.

The reservation quota is going to create a huge chaos and noise. More on that some other time. Now its time for me to focus on more important issues – including computing how fast inventory moves in a bakery.
We live in important times.

I think many would know the answer to this:

What or who is the La Gioconda?

As always, no google-ing, no wiki-ing, no whatever-ing.
==================

Answer: The Mona Lisa.

Read about it here.

Over some cold coffee late in the evening, Miss T comes up with this quote:
“In the long run, everybody is cold – dead or not dead.”*
(*Adapted from John Maynard Keynes’ quote “In the long run we are all dead”.)

The clouds spread across the sky and catch the eye. Ofcourse, clouds are just dust particles which seem to have caught our fancy quite a bit.
Arrange dust in an aesthetic manner and we can make poets out of humans. We are a funny species.

U2 plays in the background.
The clock displays 2:11 AM.
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for – U2?

Today was a cricket match between my school and some firm here as part of a corporate tournament.

I was sitting next to the scorer and adjacent to him was the tournament organiser. He is a middle-aged man who makes money out of such tournaments. A lot of money I must say. He comes across as an entrepreneurial business man who knows where to source his money from.

In the coming months, he is going to be organising cricket tournaments for kids and women, basketball tournaments for college students and some fashion shows for the communities of high profile individuals.

He makes enough to money to sport a Nokia communicator and for his sidekicks to have other upmarket expensive cellular phones.

We get talking about what my school teaches. I tell him its about business management. He nods his head and says, “I don’t understand all that. Besides, what can you expect from a person who has barely completed his tenth standard?” and breaks into a laughter.

He then goes on to tell me that probably an IAS or IPS is a much better option than studying what I was studying. I tell him that the fields are completely different and he nods his head.
After a brief pause he says, “But the money is much better in IAS. An IAS retired officer will be worth atleast 50 crores. Not to forget the power. Power is the key to money. It is all indeed about power”

I nodded my head. I try and tell him that the money that he was referring to was through not-so-acceptable means. He responds back with a slight hint of increased fervor – “In IAS, you can’t help it. Money will always come to you because of your power.”

The man stops abruptly to answer a call on his communicator. The call is answered in a couple of words and then he asks one of his sidekicks to buy him Kings.

The batsman flicks the ball for a boundary on the leg-side.
A powerful shot I must say. Priceless.

Happy Independence Day!

Being a guy comes with its own set of traits and behaviours.

One such trait is to scan the reservation charts put outside train coaches to see if there is any girl in your age group travelling along with you.

12 out 10 times one ends up with no luck whatsoever. However, once, just once, God decided enough was enough.

A KLM flight from Amsterdam to Mumbai. I was groggy-eyed due to lack of sleep and due to lack of time patterns (owing to my long flight from Detroit to Amsterdam).
I board the aircraft with a bag in one hand, a book in the other and my boarding pass held by my mouth.

I reach my seat location, drop the book on the seat and reach out to keep my cabin baggage in the loft. While I am doing that, someone gently taps my shoulder and asks me if that book on that seat was mine. I turnaround, look at the prettiest sight I had seen in the past 15 hours (earlier prettiest sight was at Detroit airport) and mumble with my words.

Gayathri was travelling from Toronto to Mumbai. She was about my age and this time I hadn’t even looked at the reservation charts. Oh heck, there are no reservation charts on aircrafts. All these thoughts swirl around in my mind and I pick up my book from her seat apologetically.

The layout thus is that she has the aisle seat and I have the window seat. She waits with a half-a-smile for me to finish keeping my cabin luggage. I settle down finally and she sits next to me. I grant God whatever He wishes.

After a couple of minutes of silence, figuring out my best opening line, I introduce myself with my name and offer to shake her hand. That was the best I could think of. She smiles and well, tells me her name. She shakes the offered hand too. We start talking about the weather in Amsterdam. She had stayed there for a couple of days and I for a couple of hours in the airconditioned airport. Yet I was talking about Amsterdam’s weather. She liked the topic evidently.

The flight took off and it was going to be around 8 to 9 hours before it reached Mumbai. We started talking about books and I learnt that she was not of the reading variety.
She was more into travelling and visiting places. My kind, I thought.
Okay, maybe not completely. But then, I too like travelling. Most of the times I definitely do like travelling. Infact, I am in love with travelling and visiting places. As long as those places have nice hotel rooms with television and good food. I like travelling to places that make me feel at home.

Coming back to the scene in the aircraft. We both have pasta together. I deduce that we both like Italian food. Pay no attention to the fact that every passenger was served pasta.

After a lot of talk about Mumbai, about which thankfully I had good knowledge, we settle down for a cup of coffee. All this around 30000 miles above sea level. So says the screen in front of me.

Coffee tastes like how coffee tastes in flights. Beautiful, that is.

After about 3 hours of conversation, she decides to take a nap. By now I am thinking of places we could visit in Mumbai. I had already thought of how I could spend some additional days with my grandparents in Mumbai. The steward comes by and offers her a mini-blanket sort of a thing. She gives him a sleepy grin and accepts it gracefully. She goes into a deep sleep within a few minutes.

While sleeping, her head naturally tilts and falls on the able shoulders of you-know-who. It felt like the movies. I looked out the window and for the first time was seeing the sun rise from the clouds. The clouds looked dreamy, I looked dreamy. The beautiful moment was willing to linger on as long as I wanted it to.

Finally, food arrived and the two of us had dinner together. (I love putting it that way – dinner together).

The pilot then announced that we were going to land in Mumbai in an hour. She woke up completely by now and got her pocket mirror out. The usual routine of some rouge and lipstick followed. I tried being my usual smart self and commented that I was really lucky to see a pretty girl do her make-up. She smiled and said that it was charming of me to say so and that she took it as a compliment.

Time was running out and I had to get her contact details. I ask her where she was going to stay in Mumbai. She replies saying that she was visiting her boyfriend and would be staying with his family. Her engagement was on the next Saturday. She definitely wanted me to attend that.

I said sure, with pieces of salad swallowed suddenly. I looked out of the window and realised that the clouds were no longer there. Land was approaching fast. I smiled to myself.

We land at Mumbai, I clear my immigration and customary customs check. So does she. My car was waiting and so was hers. We waved a goodbye and she was in his arms before I could even get my waving hand by my side.

I really enjoyed the pasta and the coffee.
The salad – well – it should have been taken with a pinch of salt.
Pinch of salt.

In case you are in Bangalore and want to watch a good play, I highly recommend this one:

Too bad I wouldn’t be able to watch this one. However, I am quite happy to know that they are performing on the same stage where I have performed and rehearsed many times now. I am in awe of the stage at RangaShankara. More on all that some other day.

For now, its time to book your tickets for this play