my first haiku

im scared of failure
thats what stops me from writing
will you hold my hand?

..and I know what it means!

The counter at two boots video has a couple of magazine racks. the one on the left has copies of the latest Timeout NY. the one on the right has issues of some independant publication called "The Shadow" where the A in the shadow is the symbol for anarchy. The the front of the paper has a picture of George W. giving the finger and the headline, Bush to US, 'Up Yours'.

I dont know how often new issues of The Shadow get printed, maybe it was a one time thing for the elections, but this pile has been sitting in the rack on the counter for several months now. Maybe it's still up because people consider the headline to still be relevant.

I was standing on the far right side of the counter watching my friends desperately try to deal with the rush of movie renters on this snowy day. I was behind the stack of magazines, and even though I couldnt see them, I knew they were there. If you know me, you know Ive spent a lot of time in the store.

A mother was checking out movies while her four kids hovered around the counter. They were all bundled up in their snow-gear. The daughter must have been around nine or ten and the two younger boys were probably around seven or eight. The fourth kid was younger and didnt really have much of a role in my story.

One of the boys saw the picture of Bush and said to the other boy:
"It's Bush! Don't look at him."

Both boys turned their backs to the picture. The girl then read the headline out loud:

Girl: "Bush to US, Up Yours"
Girl: *gasp*

The boys turned around to take a closer look at the picture.

Boy1: He's holding up his middle finger!
Girl: Hey! That's not nice! Curses to you Bush!

Drea was behind the counter and by this time we were both trying hard not to laugh.

One of the boys sees me laughing and turns to me and says:

Boy1: He's holding up his middle finger, like this!" and he holds up his hand. But he's wearing a mitten that's attached to his jacket.

Me: I can't see which finger you're holding up!"

Boy1: Oh but then ill have to take off my jacket and mitten"

Me: Ok Ok, you dont have to do that, I know which finger you're holding up. I can see it through your mitten. Yeah that's not very cool that he's holding up the middle finger."

Boy1: Yeah. and I know what it means! It means the F-word."

We probably could have spent the rest of the afternoon talking about politics but by then the kids' mother had completed her transaction at the counter. She smiled at me on the way out and then shuffled her 4 kids out of the store.

Finally...

For those of you who started to doubt that I ever went to Argentina, here are my pics. If you have dialup, im really sorry, it might take a while to get through them all. Ill try to put together a "best of" series soon...
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

A case of the s'pose'das

There's this guy that I work with. I’ve been working with him for about 6 months or so, not on an everyday basis, but he's one of the business engineer's I work with.

A few weeks ago, I went to ask him a question about one of the requirements for the project and he mentioned that he was leaving for vacation the next day. He's from India, so I assumed he was going back there for the holidays.

"Where in India are you going?"
"Mumbai"
"Oh cool, I’m from Mumbai too, what part of the city are you from?"
"Chembur"
"Really? I grew up in Chembur, where in Chembur?"
"Basant Park. Now you're going to say that’s where you are from, right?"
"Right! No seriously, I used to live there!"

So it turns out this guy used to live in my apartment complex and his cousins lived in my building. Which means we probably played cricket or something when we were growing up. and here we are some 14 years later working, not just in the same company, but on the same team! Tiny world huh?

So a few days later, I called my parents and told them about this coincidence. We don’t live in that apartment complex anymore, but we're not far and we still have the apartment there, which my parents are currently getting, work done on. So a few says later they were at the apartment and happened to knock on our neighbor’s door and meet the guy.

I called my folks last night to ask my mom a dentist question. After we were done chatting about my teeth, my parents mentioned that the guy is getting married in a couple of weeks.

I’ve seen this happen with at least 4 other people while I’ve been working here. Guys go back to India for a month and come back married. and the truth is that some of them do not leave for their vacations knowing that they are going to get hitched when they are home. It boggles my mind. I mean I know that arranged marriages are still extremely common in India, but I just think that a month to meet and be married is a bit hasty.

Then my mom says, "You should come here so we can get you married too". Now, let me just say that my parents have been pretty cool about not putting any pressure on my brother or me to get married. They have made it very clear that the option is available and all I have to do is give the word, but they are letting us take things at our own pace (for now).

We talked about it for a bit, and I finally just said that I’m just not ready for it right now. My dad then replied,

"Ok fine, then at least try to find a girl for your brother."
"Ok! Ill be on the look out"

Whew! Saved once again by the big-brother-buffer.

I’m just at a point in my life where I’m really not sure if I ever want to be married and generally annoyed by the notion that its something that one is supposed to do when one gets to be around a certain age. and that’s not just from the arranged marriage cultures, its pretty much all around.

Happy New Year!

The end of the year is always a stressful time for me - with all the reflection on the year gone by and plans and goals for the new year. So im glad its all over - im done reflecting. The side effect to the season being done is that everyone is now back at work - which means finding parking in the work lot is a pain and the cafeteria lines are long again.

Its now after lunch on Monday and its the first time in the last 24 hours that I havent groaned.."ooohhh.. so hurting!" which means im slowly getting back to my original non-aching self.

So after three nights and two very long days filled with lots of drink and very little comfortable sleep, it was Sunday the 2nd. I bade farewel to the three road-tripping chicagoans and the broadway-bound doctor and then cleaned up the apartment we were staying in, leaving everything as we had left it except for the clock in the living room which refused to start working.

I left, heading towards the F train still unsure of the days events. I could make come calls, meet some people for brunch, do some shopping, or just head home. After walking less than half a block to the train station and getting on the train, the screams of "NEED SLEEP!" coming from my body were un-ignorable and I rode the train straight to Port Authority and got on the next greyhound back to the district.

But please dont let all this talk of aching and holiday woe-ing give you the impression that I didnt have one of the most rockingest new year's weekend of my life. because I did.

Here are the pictures...

Update: I've split them up to make them easier to browse through:
new year's eve day
new year's eve night
new year's day