<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251</id><updated>2011-10-13T05:54:05.058+05:30</updated><category term='Boys n Girls'/><category term='racism'/><category term='technology'/><category term='TV'/><category term='snippet'/><category term='Tennis'/><category term='panic attacks'/><category term='movies'/><category term='politics'/><category term='Blog Catalog'/><category term='Cricket'/><category term='tagged'/><category term='Alex'/><category term='rants'/><category term='music'/><category term='marriage'/><category term='valentines'/><category term='fashion'/><category term='TGIF'/><category term='misc'/><category term='life'/><category term='V n K'/><category term='Celebrity'/><category term='Bollywood'/><category term='society'/><category term='family'/><category term='internet'/><category term='K'/><category term='Vlad the Impaler'/><category term='humanity'/><category term='blogging'/><category term='review'/><category term='love'/><category term='fiction'/><category term='Mid East'/><category term='absolutely nothing'/><category term='Current Affairs'/><title type='text'>Live from Bangalore</title><subtitle type='html'>An opinion on basically everything under the sun</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>70</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-3096796444610467333</id><published>2009-05-04T21:09:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-05-04T21:09:57.820+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alex'/><title type='text'>Of a midnight trek</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I discovered something in the wee hours of Saturday morning. I discovered I had leg muscles. They pulled me up a hill called Skandagiri about 60 km from Bangalore. Needless to say I am now writing this post from bed, agony running through my legs and unable to move. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But boy, do I feel alive. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Yeah ok, so Skandagiri is not a treacherous trek. Full time trekkers would probably scoff at my cribbing. But hey, when you’re living my life which consists of mostly living off the internet, smoking and drinking whenever I have free time, then a trek, however insignificant it might be, is true living. For one, it told me how much I’ve damaged my body and health over the years. And it gave me an experience I wont be forgetting in a long long time. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The plan to trek was hatched about a week ago. A couple of my friends decided they wanted to trek in the moonlight and Skandagiri was famous for that. I hadn't heard of the place (in all my years in Bangalore) and decided to ask around. The response I got was favorable. A colleague mentioned being there and the fact that it was a corporate favorite. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Wait a minute. Corporate favorite? You mean there might be girls there, I asked. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Yes, my colleague said. There’s a 100 percent chance there can be girls. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I was sold. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And so I decided to make the trek. Tell you guys the truth I had no idea what was coming to me. Come on, the most I’ve done in trekking is walking to bus stops or ATM’s and hell you cant call them treks. It should have rung in my mind that I would be encountering 90 degree inclines and steep descents. It should have rung in my mind that I have an intense fear of heights but noooo, the very fact that girls (and corporate girls for that) would be on the peak just blocked out all reason. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Oh well. Men will be men, I guess. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;On Friday night I got to know that one of my friends had pulled out. Apparently he didn't like the idea of climbing a hill with only a torch to aid him. I considered that for a while. My family is not in the country at this point. How would they get to know if something were to happen to me. What about bandits ? Being robbed on a highway in the middle of the night in Bangalore almost always left one dead. Was I really going to take that chance ?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;What the hell, I thought. I’m twenty-six, and fast looking at thirty. If not now, then when ? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Actually it was still the girls that kept me going. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It was decided then. No turning back. Armed with a white Marlboro drag racing helmet I decided to hop on one of the two bikes and set forth towards the unknown. The helmet was purely for health reasons, I didn't want all that dust accumulating in my already smoke filled lungs. I cant ride a bike. I cant ride it for shit. Somehow I just don't like bikes.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;There were four in our trekking party. Armed with instructions downloaded from the net, a couple of water bottles and three torches we set out at approx eleven on Friday night. We took the National Highway via Devanahalli, snapped a couple of pics in the middle of that road, with cars zipping behind us. The ride was fine. My ass felt numb after about an hour but that was ok. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/Sf8MJKqPfxI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hBIZH8Vtz0c/s1600-h/DSC01566%5B9%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="No prizes on guessing which one&amp;#39;s me" border="0" alt="No prizes on guessing which one&amp;#39;s me" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/Sf8MKi4nK0I/AAAAAAAAAPU/7MZhHVvFJOk/DSC01566_thumb%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;One thing I distinctly remember is the stars. In Bangalore I could probably count the number of stars in the sky. By the time we crossed Devanahalli, the sky was filled with stars. I don't ever remember seeing so many stars before. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The route was simple. Go past Devanahalli, get to a village called Chikkubellapur. Take a right from the Viswesharya statue. A left, another right and straight on till you reach an ashram. Climb the darn hill from there. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Sounds easy don't it ? Problem was when we got the Chikkubellapur, we couldn't find any darn statue. We actually crossed the village trying to find it. And in the end we rode a good 5 km away from it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;What else to do but turn? So we turned. And asked directions from one of the most weirdest people ever. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I told you we were on a highway right ? Well as we turned we saw an Indica overturned, and I mean overturned as in on its roof right beside the road. Standing next to it were two men and by the looks of it, there was no one in the car. We stopped, unsure if we had a moral obligation to help as both men did not look injured. In fact one of them was drunk. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We asked him for directions and he gave it to us in that cool drunk who-the-hell-cares way. And we left. Simple as that. But thinking about it I cant help but wonder. What were they doing beside that car ? Had they just emerged from a crash ? Were they just passer-by’s trying to salvage what could have been forgotten in the car ? Or did they just stand there to reflect ? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Or maybe, we were the weird ones and were trying to make too much out of what could have been nothing. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Anyhoo, we went back to the village and found ourselves lost again. This time with the help of a few policemen who themselves were drunk. When asked for a landmark, their response was: Devika Bar. We had to smile. They were our kind of people. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But the landmark proved elusive. Chikkubellapur was certainly no Bangalore, and most of the buildings looked the same. What made matters worse was that most of the signs were in Kannada which none of us could read. Which was one of the reasons we found ourselves in the middle of a junction under a streetlight utterly confused. The silence and the absence of people was unnerving. We just weren't used to it. It was by then 12.45 and we’d always been used to being around people at that time. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We stood there for a couple of minutes trying to decide on what to do next when we heard a bike take a turn a couple of meters ahead of us. One of the bike riders zipped off behind it, keeping his finger glued to his horn. Imagine that. You’re on a bike and you hear someone honking his horn behind you. You look in the rear view mirror and you see a biker coming at you like crazy. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Man that must have been a scary image. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Fortunately for us the biker was a brave man. He decided not to flee but stopped and gave us the right directions. We were on our way. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Halfway towards the ashram we picked up a guide. It made sense since we’ve never been here before and it was already close to 2 in the morning. If we had to make it to the peak by sunrise we’d have to know the way up. We had a bit of price haggling but in the end we had a guide for INR 400. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The bike ride ended at the ashram which turned out to be located right at the foot of the hill. The trek started there. And right from the word go something extraordinary happened. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We were welcomed by a snake. Now I don't know if you guys know this, but I adore snakes. You’ll find them in abundance in my home town, but I’d never seen one in Bangalore. But here was one right there in front of us. I’m not exactly sure what kind it was but it was bright green and about a foot and a half. Experience tells us that the shorter the snake is, the more venomous it is. I think that's true. When I described the snake to another friend she said it was a viper. I’m not too sure about that. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/Sf8MLxCU02I/AAAAAAAAAPY/fgMuAV2aI30/s1600-h/DSC01568%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="Spot the snake - I&amp;#39;ll give you a hint: its green" border="0" alt="Spot the snake - I&amp;#39;ll give you a hint: its green" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/Sf8MMzqISnI/AAAAAAAAAPc/3_cIX_QHIzw/DSC01568_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But what a welcome! It was just what I needed to get my blood running. Imagine it, standing under the moonlight in the middle of deadpan silence and training your torch on a beautiful snake. Yeah, I know. Fricking awesome ! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Adrenaline pumping in our veins, we started up the hill. An hour later, reality crashed down on me. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I was not eighteen. Those days were long gone. And I’ve not really been the poster boy for Men’s Health magazine. The first thing that hit me was the panting and the loss of breath. Smoking does that to you. The second thing that hit me was the fact that my legs were killing me. Not exercising does that to you. With each and every step my body cursed me with the foulest words ever used. Not to mention that I was cursing under my breath too. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The more I turned the torch to the peak the farther away it felt. A quarter of the way up and we had our first break. And I was ready to call it quits. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But hark! I hear voices. Female voices! Somewhere from up in the distance. What ? A bunch of girls can get their asses up there and I’m struggling on a piece of rock ??? Unthinkable !!!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Needless to say I climbed up the hill and my body screamed at me: YOU FUCKING MORON !!!! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We overtook them and by then I was drenched head to toe in sweat and panting away like a dog who’d just chased a Ferrari. But as soon as I saw one of the girls sitting on a rock and looking at me I willed myself to shut up and converted my panting into manly grunts. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;She kept looking at me as I passed her by undoubtedly thinking I was Bruce Banner. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And so it happened that we would continue this cycle for a while. They’d overtake us while we took a break and we’d overtake them while they took a break. I have to say it: that girl got me up that peak. The fact that she was able to climb that godforsaken hill so effortlessly bothered me so much that I resolved to scale that peak … even if it killed me. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Three hours. Three long hours. For three hours I pushed my body to extremes it had never crossed. At some point I’m sure that I broke the barrier of physical punishment. And all of it for some girl whom I hadn't even seen properly. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We reached the peak at around 4.30 in the morning. And relief filled my body as it started the slow and painful path to recovery. The organizers were serving food up there and I gobbled up two plates of noodles. The peak was fairly crowded with a couple of tents being raised and a few campfires lit. There was a group ahead of us who seemed very lively, singing and taking off shirts. There were girls among that group but alas, none of them were topless. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/Sf8MN4RqNqI/AAAAAAAAAPg/HbvQWLWSH1U/s1600-h/DSC01679%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="The view from the peak in the morning" border="0" alt="The view from the peak in the morning" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/Sf8MO064jXI/AAAAAAAAAPk/8OVryKqJIVw/DSC01679_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We had sat down and were in no mood to get up. There was yet another group beside who were very annoying with their continuous use of the word “dude”. It was always: “dude look at that” or “dude pass me the water” or “dude I wish she was here with me” and worst of all: “dude love is so great.” &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I know. Torture. Fucking torture.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But we were too tired to move. And even though I had in my mind a small sort of plan to get myself acquainted to the girl who had motivated me, I just couldn't move. I was more inclined to lying down and watching the stars. Which I did. And eventually I dozed. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;By the time I woke up, it was close to six and the sky was beginning to light up. I blinked a couple of times and realized that I could very well miss the sunrise if I closed my eyes. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And then it hit me. That cold cold wind.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;For some reason I didn't have a jacket. Or a sweater for that matter. All that I wore was a shirt ( and a thin one too ) and a pair of jeans. That was it. The peak would be freezing cold in the wee hours of the morning, that was a given. And yet I didn't feel the need to carry something to protect. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Cursing my stupidity and my body shivering in disbelief, I woke the others up. Hell if I was going to freeze I sure as hell wasn't going to do it with the others sleeping their way to glory. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So there we were, four guys shivering on a peak. And watching with wonder as the other groups just seemed to have a gala time. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Don't get me wrong, there was nothing wrong with the peak. It was beautiful. The view was stunning. Its just that we weren't prepared for all of this. I think at some point of time as we watched the others have fun we must have realized that our time was coming to an end. A couple of years earlier and we would have been just like them – screaming our lungs out. Now we just wanted to get back home. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The girl was forgotten. I never got to see her. And to tell you the truth. At the end of it all … I just didn't care anymore.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/Sf8MPUdd-ZI/AAAAAAAAAPo/YXt9GxFWFYE/s1600-h/DSC01653%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="The sun rose" border="0" alt="The sun rose" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/Sf8MQCb9ELI/AAAAAAAAAPs/6aiVaRbp-sk/DSC01653_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The sun rose. Tired as though we were it truly was a sight to behold. I was on the peak. And there were girls all around me. But i just didn't care. That final scene of watching the sun’s rays spreading across the carpet of fields below us was more than enough. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;A couple of hours later we were on our way down. And boy … what a relief that was!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/Sf8MRQrPPKI/AAAAAAAAAPw/47nIgdoqXTc/s1600-h/DSC01696%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="My Waterloo" border="0" alt="My Waterloo" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/Sf8MS13v2tI/AAAAAAAAAP0/s0CDmREaxCg/DSC01696_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-3096796444610467333?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/3096796444610467333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=3096796444610467333&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3096796444610467333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3096796444610467333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2009/05/of-midnight-trek.html' title='Of a midnight trek'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/Sf8MKi4nK0I/AAAAAAAAAPU/7MZhHVvFJOk/s72-c/DSC01566_thumb%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-6756225776360838847</id><published>2009-02-08T17:50:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-08T18:21:17.675+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bollywood'/><title type='text'>Of Luck By Chance</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SY7P3Vh_9RI/AAAAAAAAAN8/WePg0nJvQM8/s1600-h/200px-Luckbychance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SY7P3Vh_9RI/AAAAAAAAAN8/WePg0nJvQM8/s320/200px-Luckbychance.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300402361041155346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Luck By Chance&lt;/span&gt; is a 2009 Bollywood drama starring Farhan Akhtar , Konkona Sen Sharma and directed by Zoya Akhtar.  Running at a little more than two hours the movie is about a newbie actor Vikram (Akhtar) who has just landed in Mumbai to start an acting career and Sona (Sen) an extra who's been at it for three years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to tell you the story. But hey, just read that second line. New actor, struggling actress, Bollywood. Surely you must have a plot by now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately that is the problem with Luck by Chance. In the very first scene Konkona Sen is being congratulated by Alyy Khan for bagging a role in his new project. Just looking at Khan, anyone can tell that he's going to ask her to sleep with him. And such is the case with the entire film. It's just too predictable and while watching it I had this feeling of deja vu inside me. It's just very cliche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is actually extremely ironic. The movie parodies Bollywood of the yesteryear where Hindi movies were filled with over the top emotions, jokes that werent funny, love that was too pure to be true and directors who had no idea what they were doing. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Luck By Chance&lt;/span&gt;, thankfully, is not one of those movies but it retains the predictability of them. You know how every character will turn out (well except for the end), you know what they will do and you know what they will say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its unfortunate really. Its a good movie. Very watchable with some really good performances. Akhtar and Sen carry their roles with ease, while Rishi Kapoor is just amazing as the yester-year producer who cant digest the fact that the industry has changed. Dimple Kapadia has another power packed performance as the controlling yester-year star trying to push her daughter into the field. Hrithik Roshan has a very very good cameo and I keep telling everyone that he is an extremely underrated actor. King Khan apparently can only act in one particular style even if he is acting as himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry. I had to let the King Khan part in. See it for yourself, you'll understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But its the script and the story that fails. For one, the Bollywood it parodies does not exist anymore. No sensible producer would ever try to produce a movie like "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dil Ki Aag&lt;/span&gt;" the movie for which Akhtar's character is selected. And secondly, its nothing new. I guarantee you that by the end of the movie you will be thinking to yourself: ok, I knew all that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont expect a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Rock On!!&lt;/span&gt; This is an entirely different movie. It's not a breakthrough. But its a good watch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-6756225776360838847?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/6756225776360838847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=6756225776360838847&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6756225776360838847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6756225776360838847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2009/02/of-luck-by-chance.html' title='Of Luck By Chance'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SY7P3Vh_9RI/AAAAAAAAAN8/WePg0nJvQM8/s72-c/200px-Luckbychance.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-5809843063820826199</id><published>2008-08-12T15:25:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2008-08-12T19:19:24.944+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys n Girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Of the pansification of the alpha male</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Disclaimer : The following post is meant to be of a humorous nature but due to the sensitivity of the topic the author would like to address those who might be offended : BOG OFF! The author would also like to thank the delightful &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://crpitt.blogspot.com/"&gt;Claire&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.blogcatalog.com/discuss/entry/what-you-think-if-a-man-marry-to-man"&gt;inspiring&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; the comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gather round boys, we have a situation that needs be discussing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a conspiracy. A conspiracy that has been set in motion for decades. A conspiracy that strikes at the heart of us men. A conspiracy that if unchecked will change forever the role of the male in this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you noticed how ultra-uber feminists (and believe me there is only one kind) have over the years grown in power and almost everything they say is taken for as holy scripture ? You dont believe me ? OK, I'll prove it to you. Sexual harrasement in the corporate world does not just mean the occasional groping and inadequate comments (harmful as they are) ... no it also means that a look, a single look interpreted by a woman in a different way can be termed harrasement. Yes. You might be sitting at your desk having a good daydream about GTA 4 or the latest Call of Duty looking into vacant space but unknowing to you the women at the opposite cabin feels like you're staring at her and God forbid if you're gaze is aimed at few inches below her chin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exactly. And who do you suppose brought upon us this terror filled atmosphere in the office wherein you cant trust your own eyes ? Feminists. Thats who.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh, the good old days. Roman gladiators no matter how hideous they might have looked would have girls thrown at them. Oh, the girls would scream and thrash but it would do them no good. Why ? Because there were no feminists to intrude upon the nature-given right of the male.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SKGUoiiP3EI/AAAAAAAAAJs/R3Y4v8E-dgo/s1600-h/the+real+men.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SKGUoiiP3EI/AAAAAAAAAJs/R3Y4v8E-dgo/s320/the+real+men.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233627666167356482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The real man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see the look in your eyes but I am extremely sorry my brothers: we are no longer that noble race. We have let the feminists slowly and gradually infringe upon our freedom and rights. I say the first instance of such a travesty was Bram Stoker's Dracula when that old good-for-nothing weasel Van Helsing praised Mina Harker as a majestic woman with the brain power of three men. Traitor! I wish that man could see the women who drive on our once male-exclusive roads!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And more traitors gave in. And some more. Women had the right to vote. Equality they wanted! Bah, the worst of their creed came upon the weakest of us and they, being caught unawares, gave in to their every demand. Traitors. Every one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No,no ... dont weep. History has long past gone us by. We have to do something about the present situation that threatens us now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm ? Arent things bad as it is, you ask ? Brother - its getting worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see the feminists might have got their way by bullying themselves into matters like constitution and laws but they have realised that its not enough. You see, they want to be the dominant sex of our species. A natural travesty that could bring about Armageddon is what they want. And they have devised a plan that will bring about the intended result within the next sixty to seventy years - if not less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That demonic and diabolical plan is called: The Pansification of the Alpha Male!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In almost every species in the animal kingdom there is the dominant, the ruling alpha  male. The one to which the entire pack turns to. Wherever this majestic animal goes; so too goes the ever obedient pack. Not to mention that the alpha male gets his share of food and sex first. That is the equilibrium of the animal kingdom. That is how it should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alpha female ?? Who said that ?? Blasphemy ! Traitor ! Brothers : strip him and make fun of his pecker!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Hee hee ... he does have a small pecker)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(cough) Where were we ? Ahh yes, the alpha male.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, humans have never had an alpha male ever since democracy has entered our lives. And a load of crap that is. But we do have symbolic alpha males. People who we trun to ... people who we try to imitate ... people who lead our pack for every generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You still dont get it ? Man, I know I'm intelligent but do I have to tell you everything ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh very well ... its the celebrity male. Yeah, now you nod your heads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, the celebrity male. Can we forget the manliness of some of those immortals like Bruce Lee, Chuck Norris and might I also add : Ron Jeremy ? (RTB - thanks!) These were men, the real men, the epitome of all that we should be. As an Indian I can pull up a couple of my own Bollywood manly heroes : Dharmendra, Suniel Shetty and Salman Khan (with his woman beating antics).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh yes, true patriots - all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the vile enemy known as the feminist have set their eyes on them. The above patriots were not to be tempted but the next generation surely was. And what did we get for the next generation ? PANSIES! That's what we got!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long hair, studs on their eyes, tongue, ears and nose ... oh the list goes on. There are no real action movies anymore. No, no we have action "heroes"who cry over the fact that they have to kill so much. We have "tormented" super-heroes "disturbed" over their choice of life. We have "kick-ass" soldiers who cannot bring themselves to pull the trigger! You call this a movie ??? I call this PANSY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh but the critics love it.  They love it. They give it four flowers out of four. I bet they're all pro-feminists. The traitors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What effect does it have on us, you ask ? Brothers - look around us. The new generation model themselves on these false stars. The grow ridiculously long hair, they wear studs ... and they  ... they ... have facials !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SKF2DvIMZzI/AAAAAAAAAJk/YfEketMJ_Wk/s1600-h/200507240002_00.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SKF2DvIMZzI/AAAAAAAAAJk/YfEketMJ_Wk/s320/200507240002_00.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233594048543745842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The Unthinkable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please dont shed tears. Dont.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in the end we are left with a generation that will idolize these pansies. The generation to come will become pansies. They will teach their children to be pansies. Hence in three generations the woman will have replaced men as the dominant in our species. We will not have the alpha male anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its depressing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can we do, you ask ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boycott the pansies as evil and immoral. Shave every kid's hair. Let them run bald. Encourage facial and chest hair. Lets pool some money and start a propoganda that will run through our childrens bloods.  We can do it, damn it ... we are MEN ! (say that with a throaty rage call)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go forth, brothers. Go forth and lets make this world masculine again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SKF1fZUWYyI/AAAAAAAAAJU/vTHlls2wWZU/s1600-h/real-man.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SKF1fZUWYyI/AAAAAAAAAJU/vTHlls2wWZU/s320/real-man.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233593424213861154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Heil, mein Alpha Male !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-5809843063820826199?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/5809843063820826199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=5809843063820826199&amp;isPopup=true' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/5809843063820826199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/5809843063820826199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/08/of-pansification-of-alpha-male.html' title='Of the pansification of the alpha male'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SKGUoiiP3EI/AAAAAAAAAJs/R3Y4v8E-dgo/s72-c/the+real+men.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-6992855752511224669</id><published>2008-08-11T15:02:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2008-08-11T15:36:14.308+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bollywood'/><title type='text'>Of Singh is Kinng</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SKAO18biwDI/AAAAAAAAAJM/eRtgOEQ7Jm0/s1600-h/Singhisking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SKAO18biwDI/AAAAAAAAAJM/eRtgOEQ7Jm0/s320/Singhisking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233199086922022962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Singh is Kinng&lt;/span&gt; is a 2008 Bollywood comedy directed by Aneez Bannerjee starring Akshay Kumar and Katrina Kaif.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my previous posts you might have noticed that I dislike the over-the-top situations you see in typical Bollywood movies. The reason why I dislike them is because the movies take themselves too seriously and as a result these sequences fall flat on their faces. Typical examples are &lt;a href="http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-race.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Race&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; where the whole thing is ridiculous and &lt;a href="http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/of-om-shanti-om_18.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Om Shanti Om&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; where the movie tries to turn itself into a gritty revenge thriller in the second half (plus the fact that some of the jokes were not funny).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully Singh is Kinng does not fall into this category.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie follows the adventures of Happy Singh (Akshay Kumar) who searches the world for his childhood friend only to find him as a dreaded underwold don known as the King in Australia. In an attempt to turn him to the good side Singh finds himself taking over as temporary King while the original King is left paralyzed after an attack on his life. What follows are screwball comedy moments which turn the movie into a laugh riot from the word go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I mean laugh riot. Unlike the forced comedy of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Om Shanti Om&lt;/span&gt; the comedy here is presented through a host of remarkable characters (including Akshay) and sequences that match the tone and flow of the movie. And the best part is: the movie does not take itself seriously. It does not try to mask itself with something that its not. Aneez realizes that the movie he's making is a comedy and he keeps it that way which results in a highly enjoyable movie experience. There are things wrong with the movie but they are small enough to be insignificant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Akshay does what Akshay normally does. Its not a bad thing, he fits in the role and the movie is exclusively made for him. Katrina ... has nothing to do other than walk, talk and dance for a while. She really has to get better roles like the one in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Namastey London&lt;/span&gt;. Ranvir Shorey is fast shedding the image of a sarcastic VJ into an actor who should be noticed. But I felt that the best performance in the movie was from a highly restrained Javed Jaffrey who speaks in whispers and hides the fact that he is deaf and dumb. Now for such a "loud" actor - speaking in whispers is tough and he does it extremely well. Watch out for him ... this very well could be his comeback. The punjabi gang is an extremely likeable bunch of characters, each unique in their own way and Neha Dupia surprises me with her comic performance. (Although there was one cringing scene where she sings)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's extremely tough for me to give a Bollywood movie a thumbs up but this movie was honourable with its intentions and it made me laugh all the way through. Worth the watch and maybe another.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-6992855752511224669?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/6992855752511224669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=6992855752511224669&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6992855752511224669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6992855752511224669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/08/of-singh-is-kinng.html' title='Of Singh is Kinng'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SKAO18biwDI/AAAAAAAAAJM/eRtgOEQ7Jm0/s72-c/Singhisking.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-3785275392394236931</id><published>2008-08-05T20:46:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-08-05T20:50:41.151+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>Of a brand new blog</title><content type='html'>I've achieved the element of surprise yet again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all the ruckus on the &lt;a href="http://blogcatalog.com/"&gt;BlogCatalog&lt;/a&gt; discussions forums for the past couple of days, I decided it was time for an investigation to find out why people all over the globe seem so divided and seem so content with watching the other die. Such thoughts and desires have led to the creation of my brand new blog : &lt;a href="http://world-riot.blogspot.com/"&gt;The World Is A Riot&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Join me, all you socio-political ones as I go on a journey across the world and into the most dangerous conflicts man has ever laid eyes upon. Or if you'd rather stay here, that's fine too ... I'm not abandoning this blog for anything. I think this will serve as fitting balance to the dark creepy revelations on the other one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-3785275392394236931?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/3785275392394236931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=3785275392394236931&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3785275392394236931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3785275392394236931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/08/of-brand-new-blog.html' title='Of a brand new blog'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-1862862372537061251</id><published>2008-07-18T06:00:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-07-18T15:25:11.782+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><title type='text'>Of The Dark Knight</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SIBdmLeaJ4I/AAAAAAAAAIc/ahYPIMWECys/s1600-h/TDK.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224278478246520706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SIBdmLeaJ4I/AAAAAAAAAIc/ahYPIMWECys/s320/TDK.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Directed by Christopher Nolan and running at close to 2 and a half hours, &lt;em&gt;The Dark Knight&lt;/em&gt; is the 2008 sequel to &lt;em&gt;Batman Begins&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, with that out of the way let's answer a couple of questions. Is TDK the best movies of 2008 so far ? Yes. Is TDK the movie it was all hyped up to be ? Yes. Is TDK the &lt;em&gt;Godfather 2&lt;/em&gt; of super-hero movies ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're going to watch this movie thinking you're going to get another whiff of &lt;em&gt;Batman Begins&lt;/em&gt; then boy, oh boy are you wrong! This is an entirely different movie which is darker, grimmer and more complex than its predecessor. The first movie made it clear that Batman was not the all enduring hero that every other costume-freak is. No, Batman is human and a very vulnerable one at that too. And though TDK has some death defying moments that seem a bit too hard to believe, Batman is still very very vulnerable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TDK takes place a year after the events of the first movie. The mob isn't exactly running scared but it is in its death throes and with the entrance of a charismatic DA - Harvey Dent - things are getting worse. But as the law and the Bat are concentrated on the final blows to the mob the ignore a creepy crawling danger - the Joker. And when he strikes, he strikes at the minds of everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pace of the movie is relentless. It's like jumping from one climax to the other in the entire movie and it's not like it's a couple of action scenes being bunched together. There is coherence to the movie, there is a firm plot along which the movie runs and the plot is further strengthened by formidable characters. There is the odd comic one-liners you found in the first film and here they serve to balance the frantic pace at which the movie flows. I cant find one moment where I wanted to tell the screen to hurry up. It's all deliciously timed and Nolan has achieved something entirely new in this genre. Right from the first scene where the Joker robs a bank to the end the movie is as fast as the Bat-pod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christian Bale is and always will be the Batman of our age. The suit and the character seems to have been made just for him. Morgan Freeman and Micheal Caine (who better than him for Alfred?) breeze through their roles with ease. Maggie Gyllenhall does a fine job with Bruce's love interest Rachel Dawes; much better than Katie Holmes. Aaron Eckhart does well with Harvey Dent. Gary Oldman is spectacular as Commissioner Gordon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which leads us to Heath Ledger ... and the Joker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're a movie buff like me, you'll know that the Joker character was one of feathers in Jack Nicholson's cap ever since he played the role in the 1989 Tim Burton film. Now, the problem with Nicholson's Joker was that it was Jack Nicholson. You expect Nicholson to be eccentric. You expect him to be insane. You expect him to smile that god-awful smile. You just don't see the Joker there. You expect Jack Nicholson and that's what you get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you don't expect that from Heath Ledger. And that is why Ledger's Joker ... is without doubt ... one the greatest movie performance of all time. No, not because he's dead ... not because all the critics are raving about him ... but because it just is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of this is because TDK's Joker is the original Joker. He plays with everyone's mind and literally takes the entire city hostage. After the first half hour the Joker makes his presence felt throughout the movie and you do &lt;em&gt;feel&lt;/em&gt; his presence even when he's not on screen. Ledger brings a level of insanity to his performance that is unsettling and frightening. One of the best sequences in the film is when the Bat roughens the Joker up for answers and with each blow you slowly realize that it's no use. It's just no use. The man is mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are all the good. Let's get with the bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a moment in the movie which was just too much of James Bond. And that distracted me for a minute. If that is a hint of what Nolan wants to do with Batman in the future, then I'm not too sure about the future. This scene is so ... cliche that it actually looked ... and I mean exactly like James Bond and Q. Complete with the product placement. Very very distracting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two-face, although terrifying ... is not fully explored. Maybe, just maybe it's because the Joker is the hovering presence here, but no ... I just felt that wasn't it. Don't get me wrong - Two face is all that he can be, way better than Tommy Lee Jones but it just didn't quite satisfy as well as the Joker did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ... is TDK the &lt;em&gt;Godfather 2&lt;/em&gt; of the super-hero genre ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This movie is a gem. An actual gem. It's almost not a super-hero movie. You don't have the CGI being shoved into your face. You don't have the melodrama of &lt;em&gt;Spider-Man&lt;/em&gt;. You don't have the boyish wit of &lt;em&gt;IronMan&lt;/em&gt;. What you have is an emotional dark tale of morality and insanity. What you have is one of the greatest screen villains in history. What you have in TDK is the complete movie. Watch the movie, even if you're not a Batman fan ... or simply watch it for Heath Ledger. You will NOT regret it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-1862862372537061251?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/1862862372537061251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=1862862372537061251&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1862862372537061251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1862862372537061251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-dark-knight.html' title='Of The Dark Knight'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SIBdmLeaJ4I/AAAAAAAAAIc/ahYPIMWECys/s72-c/TDK.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-579069016478538761</id><published>2008-07-17T16:11:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-07-17T17:31:09.090+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snippet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fiction'/><title type='text'>Of a dark night</title><content type='html'>"Would you like to hear a story ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sigh. It's times like these when I wish I had a cigarette. I quit smoking some three months ago but the pangs are yet to leave. And now stuck in a cruiser that wont start and the weasel sitting behind me with a smug grin I cant help but think that this was the right time to light one up. Backup wont be here for another ten to fifteen minutes; what else was there to do other than light up ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do I have a choice ? " &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His grin widens and I tighten my grip on the gun. We're separated by a thick sheet of glass but I know that he can break through that with one good head butt. It's a dark night and there's no one around in this corner of the street. I'm a sitting duck here and he knows it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course you have a choice. I'm handcuffed and you're the one with a gun. You wouldn't have a choice if I had a knife at your throat and demanded that my story be the last words you hear." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His eyes meet mine in the mirror. "So, do you want to hear it ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say nothing but my eyes give me away. As much as I loathe the weasel he's the only one that can stop me from going paranoid at this particular moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He relaxes his body and settles deeper in the back seat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is a story I heard from my friend when I visited him in jail a couple of months. We go back a long long way. We were both raised in the same orphanage and when we turned 18 the orphanage threw us out. Cant blame them, they thought they taught us all we needed to know to survive in this cruel world. They didn't. We learned that for ourselves. And then we moved here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A couple of years under Falcone and we were good. Life was easy. We had the money, the girls, everything. But then I had grown enough of this place. You see, I always wanted change. I wanted to move, discover new territories, that kind of stuff. My friend thought different. He thought this was paradise. And that's all he wanted." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And so I left and came back when I heard he's been busted. Old friendships die hard and I wanted to see him. Couldnt offer help, of course, he was so deep in shit, Jesus and his holy finger couldnt save him. I just wanted to be there ... offer a shoulder to cry on." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weasel looks out the window, lost in thought. I wonder what friend he's talking about. Anyone I had encountered ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dog howls in the distance. Perfect. I fucking hate dogs. Every single one of them, even those faithful kinds in canine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He continues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was shocked when I saw him. The man looked like he'd met his maker and his maker wasn't too happy. He'd gone deathly thin and his eyes were meaningless. I could see the bones of his shoulder jutting out of his skin like it wanted to pop out of him. Terrible, awful sight to see."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I asked him what was wrong. Was it the showers ? It couldn't have been, we had our share of it in the orphanage. Was it the jailers ? Couldn't have been that either, because he's a tough man. What was it then ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He looked at me with those dead eyes and told me it was the way he'd been busted. You see ..." and he leans in to whisper while my hands grow white around the gun " ... he'd been busted by the Bat." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if on cue I glance up at the moonlit skyscrapers expecting to see him there. Somewhere ... somewhere in that forest of concrete and steel, he was there and that feeling was the most secure one I'd had all day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weasel leans back smiling. "The Bat" he says and grows silent for a few seconds until I prompt him: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How did he get caught ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It was a night more or less like this one. And a street in the Narrows like this one. He was in dark corner waiting for customers but customers had dried up ever since that weird incident a year ago. He had a gun with him, his vintage King Cobra, not too good for distance shots but packs a punch point blank. He'd been on that particular corner the whole week and while business was slow, it was the only business he'd got all month."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That night, however, was different. He swears now that it was like the whole world from the biggest whale to the smallest bug had gone silent. A full moon had risen over the Narrows and the light from it was of no real help at all. All it did was create long ominous shadows that scared the hell out of him. After an hour or so he decided to leave. The night was bad, he said, and there was something in it which he did not want to meet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So he walked back home and home was a couple of blocks away. He didn't mind walking the Narrows at night; he was used to it. But after a couple of paces he swore he heard the faintest sound of cloth. He couldn't remember what kind it was and I know this because he kept shaking his head in despair as he said it. It was some kind of cloth and of that he was sure. He turned around and of course no one was there. He stepped up his pace because he was on the verge of being terrified and he wanted to get home before he did."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Another couple of paces later he heard the cloth again, but this time, this time he heard it hit against flesh. You know the sound that you hear when women run around in long dresses ? He said it sounded like that, only more sinister. The previous sound had been of cloth being hit with a gust of air. Meaning that whatever it was had just flown in and was now following him on foot." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There can be only one kind in Gotham City who can do that." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My friend panicked. He took out his gun and aimed at every shadow he found. I can imagine him doing that, shivering head to toe, the poor bastard. And he was whispering, "come on, come on, come on"" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And out of the darkness came a voice in a whisper so grim and frightening that it seemed like the dark had said it: "I'm here." And as my friend watched a shadow emerged out of a corner. Steadily it grew and grew but he could not make out a shape. All he saw were two eyes and black shape. There were no hands, no feet, no head for all he could see. Only two eyes, so blank in their stare that my friend could see no mercy, no hope, no re-assurance in them. In his words, they were the eyes of death." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere in the distance I hear sirens. I don't know if its my back-up but secretly I wish it to come a few minutes late. I want to hear this story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My friend fired. All six rounds. And this thing just seemed to engulf them. Didn't even flinch. There were sparks somewhere below the eyes but that was all. And as the hammer clicked on an empty chamber, the shape rushed on him. The last thing he saw was the shape change into something hideous and huge as it ran with terrific speed upon him." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He never got to see the Bat up close and personal. He passed out before the Bat got to him." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That made me chuckle. A weasel just like the one behind me passing out before the Batman got to him just seemed a trifle funny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You liked that I see. Well I suppose you should." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And your friend opened his eyes in jail ?" I ask. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He shrugs. "Something like that. But that's not what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell me that the Bat was a demon. The Bat was supernatural. You couldn't kill it. You couldn't plead with it. All he wanted to tell me was that the Bat just wasn't human." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at him in the mirror and meet his eyes. "Do you believe that?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He returns my mocking glare. "No, Officer. Quite frankly I dint. I think the Bat, despicably frightening as he is ... is a man ... or a woman, although I think he's a man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He leans in again but this time I don't flinch. The sirens are close by and he can hear them too. "But the thing is, the more reflected on the story, the more I got to know about the Bat. He wears a bat costume. He lives in the dark and is a creature of the shadows. And he stood there facing those bullets without fear." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You may call that bravery. I call that insanity. The Bat is insane; my friend. A calculated insanity, sure, but no more sane than the cookies you pick up on odd weekdays." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He leans back as the lights of the backup cruiser flood the street. The car comes up behind me slowly. I open my door and put one leg out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can't combat that sort of insanity unless you have the same , or even more of your own kind." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turn to him. "And where do you find that kind of insanity ?" I ask. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's already here. It's already come." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lights of the other cruiser switch off along with the siren. The night grows dark and silent again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" I ask again. "What has come ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He chuckles which comes out a happy gleeful sound. "You'll see. Tomorrow ... you'll all see." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And somewhere ... up above us all I could have sworn the Bat was watching us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-579069016478538761?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/579069016478538761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=579069016478538761&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/579069016478538761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/579069016478538761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-dark-night.html' title='Of a dark night'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-1328850518560981136</id><published>2008-07-14T13:47:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2008-07-14T14:50:52.295+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><title type='text'>Of 4 movies that made me cry</title><content type='html'>Guys are not supposed to cry at the movies or so the norm goes ... but that's a load of bull and a lot of people know it. I was listening to one of Dr. Mark Kermode's delightful podcasts when out of no reason I started to think about the movies that have made me cry. I think about them now because there are only but a few and I also think about them because they havent made movies like them in a long long time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've not listed any Bollywood movies because frankly I've never cried at any of them, but there are aq couple of regional movies like &lt;em&gt;Akashadooth&lt;/em&gt;, a Malaylam movie tyhat was designed specifically to make everyone cry and the drama movies of acclaimed actor Kamal Hassan. I forget the name of the movie in which he plays the guardian of the mentally challenged Sridevi but the final five minutes of the movie is so heart-wrenching that it makes me flinch just to remember it. If anyone knows the name of this classic please let me know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we get on with the list, here's a couple of movies you should not be expecting. &lt;em&gt;Titanic&lt;/em&gt;, because it loses its magic after the first viewing; &lt;em&gt;Bambi&lt;/em&gt; - because I've never seen it and &lt;em&gt;Love Story&lt;/em&gt; - because I booed instead of crying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here are four movies (in no particular order) that brought out the tears: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SHsR2pZxxQI/AAAAAAAAAH8/YIhbTfgzQDg/s1600-h/E_t_the_extra_terrestrial_ver3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SHsR2pZxxQI/AAAAAAAAAH8/YIhbTfgzQDg/s320/E_t_the_extra_terrestrial_ver3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222787823390803202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. ET&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw &lt;em&gt;ET&lt;/em&gt; for the first time when I was 23. As astonishing as that may seem it's true. &lt;em&gt;ET&lt;/em&gt; was realeased the year I was born but we never got around to renting the movie. I was more obsessed with cartoons and the sorts and maybe, just maybe, my family wanted to protect me from it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because &lt;em&gt;ET&lt;/em&gt;, is the most traumatic movie any child will ever watch. You have to remember that Spielberg was at his best when he made &lt;em&gt;ET&lt;/em&gt; and every movie from &lt;em&gt;Duel&lt;/em&gt; to &lt;em&gt;Close Encounters&lt;/em&gt; (except Indy) was always emotionally close to the audience. Here he gives us the cutest alien there ever was, a relationship with a couple of kids you would kill for and the best seven year old kid's performance in Drew Barrymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then he has the audacity to &lt;strong&gt;kill&lt;/strong&gt; the alien. And just when we are wiping the tears off from an emotionally heavy death bed scene ET revives and there's just enough time for a final happy ride before the alien has to leave his friends forever. Let me be clear on this: that was not a happy ending. ET leaves and that was the end of it - he never came back and there was no sequel. Maybe that's the reason &lt;em&gt;ET&lt;/em&gt; turned out to be the classic that it is, but it's still one ripping scene when he leaves. It was Spielberg's genius that left almost everyone streaming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SHsTvRbvbKI/AAAAAAAAAIE/pd9LGzVu1h4/s1600-h/Crash_NTSC_DVD.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SHsTvRbvbKI/AAAAAAAAAIE/pd9LGzVu1h4/s320/Crash_NTSC_DVD.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222789895720758434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Crash&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Directed by Paul Haggis, &lt;em&gt;Crash&lt;/em&gt; is one of those movies that grips and refuses to let you go until its done. Criss-crossing across sixteen characters it describes in gritty realism the level of racism and hatred that dwell among people. If you havent watched this movie I suggest you do ... as its on of those rare masterpieces that go on to become a timeless classic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, there's a particular scene in this movie that is extremely and I mean EXTREMELY powerful. I'm not going to spoil it for those who havent watched the movie but those who have should know what I'm talking about. The buildup to this scene starts right from the beginning and ends in this absolute shocker that left me flooding tears without even knowing about it. And then it slowly hit, this was the movie's climax and it crept and pounced so unexpectedly that I just wasnt prepared for it. A true gem of cinema, this has to be one of the most emotionally draining scenes in any movie ever. Trust me : watch Crash; you'll never regret it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SHsWi1HBt9I/AAAAAAAAAIM/2MLXXolUjrw/s1600-h/200px-EsdlaIII.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SHsWi1HBt9I/AAAAAAAAAIM/2MLXXolUjrw/s320/200px-EsdlaIII.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222792980494137298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. LOTR - Return of the King&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprised ? You should be. This should not feature on any tear-jerker list but here it is. Directed by Peter Jackson and winner of a record-equalling 11 Academy Awards &lt;em&gt;Return of the King&lt;/em&gt; is the conclusion of a fantasy epic. Big huge war scenes and amazing CGI were its highlights ... but there was also more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are a LOTR fan like I am then there's a good chance that you were delighted with the adaptation. The performances were amazing, from Andy Serkis as the unforgettable Gollum to Sir Ian McKellan as the wise Gandalf. But right from the first movie the bond between Frodo and Sam was emotional and it caught your mind's eye or atleast it should have. Having been with them throught their mentally and physically enduring journey to Mordor they come within a few paces of Mount Doom. Frodo collapses under the burden of the Ring and Sam (played brilliantly by Sean Astin) picks him up on his shoulders with that memorable line: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't carry it for you .... but I can carry &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lump in throat. Tears in eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SHsZcVgU0QI/AAAAAAAAAIU/mvdVIuq7s44/s1600-h/200px-Vitaebella.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SHsZcVgU0QI/AAAAAAAAAIU/mvdVIuq7s44/s320/200px-Vitaebella.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222796167465980162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Life is Beautiful &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An Italian movie starring and directed by Roberto Benigni starts off as a comedy and a mighty good one at that. When I started watching the movie and laughing at the gags I was beginning to feel uneasy. You see, I knew that this movie was not going to end well and it was making us feel right at home with the characters which is a classic way of making you reach out for the Kleenex at the end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which it did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the movie is heartbreaking to say the least. Deported off to a concentration camp during the Second World War the movie is about a father who tries to shield his five year old son from the brutality of war using the only weapon he has: comedy. He acts out for his son to convince him that the concentration camp is all just a game where the winner wins a tank. The five year old wide-eyed son believes everything his father tells him up until the very end of the movie where the father asks him to hide in a sweatbox until everyone has left. The child chuckles as he watches through a peephole his father imitates a Nazi soldier while being marched away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you hear the gunshot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minutes late the child comes out of the sweatbox to collect his prize. An American tank coming in to liberate the camp. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're a father or have ever loved a child ... you will know how depressing that final scene is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it. These were the movies that had the emotional potential to throw a tear-bomb at me, and while there were others that made me feel sad, none touched me more than the movies above. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you liked this list and before you go however, what were the movies that made you cry ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-1328850518560981136?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/1328850518560981136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=1328850518560981136&amp;isPopup=true' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1328850518560981136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1328850518560981136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-4-movies-that-made-me-cry.html' title='Of 4 movies that made me cry'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SHsR2pZxxQI/AAAAAAAAAH8/YIhbTfgzQDg/s72-c/E_t_the_extra_terrestrial_ver3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-2677526870919732921</id><published>2008-07-13T12:55:00.013+05:30</published><updated>2008-07-13T19:27:04.554+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TGIF'/><title type='text'>Thank God it's Friday - The Inaugural strip</title><content type='html'>Ok, I know it's not Friday but you have to start somewhere right ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to start a weekly comic strip, which is odd since I know horseshit about drawing and stuff. But with a site like &lt;a href="http://stripgenerator.com/"&gt;Strip Generator&lt;/a&gt; who needs drawing skills ? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The strip's name is called "Thank God it's Friday" which is also the name of the novel I'm working on. I'm not sure how good this is going to get but feedback - good or bad -will be highly appreciated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week's strip touches on the "textbook controversy" that I &lt;a href="http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/06/of-sensitive-student-material.html"&gt;blogged&lt;/a&gt; about a couple of days ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that I proudly present the first strip of "Thank God it's Friday" :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SHoJejTVYOI/AAAAAAAAAH0/J5QXCb7VgtY/s1600-h/sensitive-to-whom.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SHoJejTVYOI/AAAAAAAAAH0/J5QXCb7VgtY/s320/sensitive-to-whom.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222497138366570722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-2677526870919732921?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/2677526870919732921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=2677526870919732921&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/2677526870919732921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/2677526870919732921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/07/thank-god-its-friday-inaugural-strip.html' title='Thank God it&apos;s Friday - The Inaugural strip'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SHoJejTVYOI/AAAAAAAAAH0/J5QXCb7VgtY/s72-c/sensitive-to-whom.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-3610834424335645383</id><published>2008-07-12T16:38:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-07-12T10:59:09.812+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='V n K'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alex'/><title type='text'>Of moving day</title><content type='html'>Atleast it wasnt like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SE5laQWo-JI/AAAAAAAAAHk/p7ETqm3sxUM/s320/moving_day.jpg" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SE5laQWo-JI/AAAAAAAAAHk/p7ETqm3sxUM/s320/moving_day.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210213320655173778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;"Honey ... I think we missed something"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were packing; and by we I mean V and me and by packing I mean the time when I was ready to leave Bangalore; we went through some of the stuff we werent sure of. It's been over a year in this apartment and while thats not much, two people left during the past year and some of their stuff were left behind. We were making sure that none of the stuff left behind were important and hence trash worthy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was at this point that we found something that boggled our eyes as well as our minds. You see, one of our previous roomate had left behind a stash (carefully hidden) of provocative pictures. Oh hell, why lie ? They were pure porn. Prono pics taken off the internet and then printed in black and white on A4 papers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boys will be boys. I get that, I totally do. But this is certainly not the sort of thing that you do when youre in your mid 20's. No no, when you're in your mid 20's you already know what sex is about and you dont need Debonair or Cosmopolitan. And you most certainly do not want to take print outs of internet porno. That's just ...  just ... wierd. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a good laugh about it and stashed it away in the black plastic garbage bag. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrong move. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The packing was done and we shifted everything out to the new place where V would be staying. I was scheduled to leave that weekend. So everything was set and all we had to do was clean the place up and throw out the trash, which for some reason; we wouldnt do. Why ? Beats me. I know I'm lazy and I also know V had work that day but  since we packed the whole place up it only seemed logical that we clean up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we ended up hiring help which is always ready at hand in India. V went off to work and left me to supervise the old woman who did the cleaning and the trash. As this was being done and me looking all important the woman upstairs, (not the coins couple) came down to have a chat and ask about the new place. This was unprecedented. The ladies of that building had always a wary eye for bachelors and we never expected them to indulge in chitchat. Maybe it was the fact that we were leaving that made this woman  let her guard down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking back on it now I can see how clearly those things stacked up against me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cleaning lady took out the trash bag just as the woman upstairs was asking me about my family. The trash was stuffed in those big black plastic garbage bags and she had some difficulty getting it down the stairs. Ever the chivalrous, I offered to give her a hand. I took hold of the bottom in a fast grip and that was when I saw it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bottom had given away. And it was too late. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See this picture. See it very well : &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are at the head of a fleet of stairs. The bottom of a trash bag filled with papers has ripped off. The porno pics for which neither me nor V are responsible stumble out. Some get picked up with the wind and the lady from upstairs has a good long look at them as they fly past her. The rest fall out onto the stairs and in such an orchestrated manner that there is on one each step until it reaches the door of a family downstairs which unfortunately is open. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The door slams as the woman upstairs dissapears. All in one fast, swift moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cleaning lady looks at the pictures and then back at the shocked, red faced me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bachelors, eh ?" she asks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-3610834424335645383?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/3610834424335645383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=3610834424335645383&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3610834424335645383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3610834424335645383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/06/of-moving-day.html' title='Of moving day'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SE5laQWo-JI/AAAAAAAAAHk/p7ETqm3sxUM/s72-c/moving_day.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-5068287515877022588</id><published>2008-06-26T11:51:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-26T12:31:05.704+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Of sensitive student material</title><content type='html'>If you're from Kerala then you should know what's been going on this past week. If you're not, here's the gist : &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kerala is now governed by a democratically elected communist government. That's the backbone of this story. This year the government releases a social studies textbook for seventh grade students that is allegedly in tune with the central government textbook frameworks. There's a catch though, the textbook has a chapter that supposedly is trying to instill communist and atheist beliefs in its readers. In this disputed chapter a teacher pats the head of a boy because he wants to join a school without mentioning his religion or caste. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't see how this is atheist or communist but I must warn you: I have not read this chapter or the textbook and hence I cant make a sound opinion. That said, I don't see any mistake in teaching secularism. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This textbook has struck a nerve with a lot of people. The religious and conservative have denounced the book, calling it an attack on faith. The Congress party (ironically, this party is founded on the ideals of secularism) calls it communist propaganda. And since this is a student issue, student parties have taken to the streets in protest. If you've been following me on twitter you might remember me twittering about water cannon's and lathi's being used on students in the state capital last week. It happened again in my hometown a couple of days ago which resulted in a violent general strike that brought life to a standstill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days ago, a Muslim student group called the MSF tore the pages and burnt scores of textbooks in a district called Mallapuram. Yesterday, the communist student wing, called the SFI, protesting against violence turned violent themselves and in the process beat up a news reporter! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the hell ... ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again I'm watching ideology take a violent turn. People's lives are being affected for the belief's of others. I'm no sucker for communism and I have been vehemently anti-communist but I sure as hell wont fall for ideology. The Congress party is using this controversy as means to bring down the government and that is all. Believe me, they have no real purpose to satisfy the fundamentalists. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the religious parties are a different matter. They want this textbook gone and they want it gone real bad. Why ? Because it tries to tell the future that they must judge each other as human beings and not by what they believe in ? What faith are they trying to defend ? The faith that makes them strap bombs onto themselves ? The faith that makes them grab a &lt;em&gt;trishul&lt;/em&gt; and brandish it as a weapon ? The faith that has more blood on its hands than any mass murderer ever ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The child in the textbook has a Hindu father and a Muslim mother. What religion must he jot down ? I think the fundamentalists are more incensed over this question than anything else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the strikes, I cant help but chuckle. This state is in the midst of a financial disaster. We have starving people here. Corruption is rampant. Infrastructure is breaking down. There are animals in a zoo (the Thrissur Zoo) neglected and forgotten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what do the "political" parties - government or opposition - do ? The politics that is supposed to take care of its people fights over ideology. They fight over a seventh grade social studies textbook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This state needs a cultural revolution. This state needs to watch &lt;em&gt;Happy Feet&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-5068287515877022588?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/5068287515877022588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=5068287515877022588&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/5068287515877022588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/5068287515877022588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/06/of-sensitive-student-material.html' title='Of sensitive student material'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-7357316080952459809</id><published>2008-06-21T12:11:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-24T11:04:58.122+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='technology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Of tradition v/s progress</title><content type='html'>Among the couple of things that I cant stand, one of them is a world that cant keep up with the times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days back while watching TV with my dad, a regional news channel aired a special report about the corruption of the youth by cellular phones. The report goes on to say that college kids were using mobile phones to watch and share pornography. You should know by now that this is nothing new. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted, its a worrying issue. But does it warrant a report that states its a conspiracy by mobile phone companies to increase their sales ? Yep, that's exactly what the said. They said that Nokia and other big companies are actually luring unsuspecting youngsters into buying their products by inserting porn into them and thus increase their sales numbers. They even have a woman agreeing with the theory in a very aggressive manner. If we were to take her word we shouldn't have mobile phones because she blames them for everything from terrorism to extra-marital affairs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has happened before. In a closed and restricted society like India modern products are looked upon with suspicion by those who are conservatives. When the Internet started to rear its head out here my uncle stated that it was immoral and evil. I still remember him standing in my living room proclaiming that it was used by loose women to snare young men in their lustful traps. One year later he was chuckling like a child over the fact that he could now pay his bills at home online without having to wait in line. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heh. I bet he got snared by one of those loose women. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A women's magazine called Vanitha (which means woman) condemned the Internet as a device used by prick-for-a-brain men to seduce, bed and eventually cheat Innocent pure minded women. A mother wrote a letter to the magazine that told the story of her son being addicted to porn on the Internet. The magazine nodded its head and sympathized while warning the readers of the supreme evil called the Internet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years later they gave its readers an email address for feedback. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all those conservative minds out there : pornography did not come out with the Internet or cell phones. They came out the day man found a way to express his thoughts; be it pictures or words. Pornography has found a way to evolve with the times ... why cant you ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to all concerned parents : keep a better eye on your children. Blaming technology is just an escapist way of saying I have no idea what my children do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-7357316080952459809?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/7357316080952459809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=7357316080952459809&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/7357316080952459809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/7357316080952459809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/06/of-tradition-vs-progress.html' title='Of tradition v/s progress'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-2324164820403353722</id><published>2008-06-16T15:08:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-16T15:12:12.755+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>A further delay</title><content type='html'>I'll be blogging via Twitter for a while now. I've set it up on my mobile since I'll be away from a computer for a while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Follow me on Twitter if you have an account or subscribe to the RSS feed if you like. People who know me are aware that I'm looking for a job as of now so it will be some time before I return to the blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By no means is this the end, it just gone to a 140 words per post. :) See ya there !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-2324164820403353722?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/2324164820403353722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=2324164820403353722&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/2324164820403353722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/2324164820403353722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/06/further-delay.html' title='A further delay'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-6637945100146230082</id><published>2008-06-04T11:07:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-10T17:11:58.604+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>A bit of a delay</title><content type='html'>It's going to be a while until my next post. The time to leave Bangalore has come and I'm in transition. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be posting regularly after a couple of days. Until then, Cheerio!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-6637945100146230082?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/6637945100146230082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=6637945100146230082&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6637945100146230082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6637945100146230082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/06/bit-of-delay.html' title='A bit of a delay'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-6689538506473834500</id><published>2008-05-28T11:51:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-01T12:53:01.284+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Of cyberspace racism</title><content type='html'>While checking the stats in Google Analytics I found out one of the keywords used to find my blog in search engines was "i hate mallus" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you've been reading my blog faithfully you will know what "mallu" means. If you don't here's a rundown: "mallu" is a term used to call a Keralite, IE someone from Kerala. Well in my previous &lt;a href="http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/of-being-mallu-guy.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; I blogged about how Keralites were discriminated and racially abused. So it wasn't much of a surprise when I saw that particular keyword. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They probably do hate mallus ... but some thing's odd, don't you think ? They hate us enough to google the hate, but when they come upon a Keralite blog, they spend some time on it and just leave. Just like that. No hate speech, no racist abuse, no nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heh. Fricking cowards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, I see this keyword everyday on my stats. Finally yesterday I Google it myself, just to see what's out there. Sure enough my blog is on the front page; sixth link. I check around and see that most of the links are to other blogs which have a lot of "mallu jokes" and the "i hate mallus" come in the comments. I spend some time around reading and smiling at the jokes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I click on this &lt;a href="http://unitedindianschool.blogspot.com/"&gt;site&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, as most people know everyone seems to get offended very easily these days. I have to agree with &lt;a href="http://www.offendedblogger.com"&gt;Chelle&lt;/a&gt; on that. People are waaaay too sensitive these days. Something said in jest or something said without understanding the culture should be forgiven. We all make mistakes in our lives. We shouldn't get too riled up on stuff like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again, there's also the intentional. This site was intentional. The authors do not make a joke about it. In fact they're material is pure hate speech and almost propaganda. And they are all directed at me and my community. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say I was fuming. I've been through other offensive sites but nothing lit the spark like this did, since they were abusing me personally. You never know how bad and ugly racism is until it touches you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now ... fuming as I were, I always look at things with a broad mind. I have always refused to think down a one-way street. I've always believed no one is born into what they are ... life molds them that way. So apparently these people were molded into hating the likes of me ... and I was curious. Angry and pissed, yes, but still curious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be the first to tell you Keralite's have their problems and believe me we have some mighty big problems. But then, who doesn't ? Before we rebuke a particular community or religion or whatever we really should look at ourselves first. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo ... I decided to go through the blog,unthinkable as it might have seemed, to find a root cause. I like that ... behavioural analysis and stuff like that. Kinda cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we go : lets analyze a racist, shall we ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1) The Authors: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently it's a team blog. The user names range from normal one's like KK to some high fly one's like Dr.Evil and HellBlogger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meh. What's in a name ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2) The Subject&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The subject is the United Indian School (UIS) in Kuwait. I have never heard of this school but it surely must exist. There are a lot of Indian schools in the Middle East. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blog states that it wants to expose the corruption and incompetence of the UIS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, wait ... lets backtrack here. United Indian &lt;em&gt;School&lt;/em&gt; ?? These are school kids. Teenagers at best. Probably around 15 or 16. Pre-college stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's a couple of kids who don't like their school. Fair enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of kids who don't like their faculty and make it known to the world, in their own way. Fair enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of kids who think Keralites are an evil cancer. Hmm. Something wrong there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3)The Readers.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very little comments on this particular blog. That actually made me feel better until I saw the feedburner. 169 subscribers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh boy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised to see no comments favoring the Keralites. I tried sending a comment ... and found out that it was moderated. Well, that would explain the lack of retaliation. Seemed pretty lame to me though ... if you want to say something to the world you have to prepared for debate. It's kinda cowardly when you don't want to accept criticism. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again ... all racists are cowards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4)The Racism.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty harsh language in the random posts I read. Apparently we are fit for nothing but slavery, have a language that should be used for torture and we sleep with our mothers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprised ? Shocked ? That's racism for you. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also noticed some of the posts that seem to paint a very unflattering picture of the girls in this particular school. Male superority? Maybe. In fact ... very probable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are posts written by young ladies and they, of course, attack the Keralite guys. Yawn. That's nothing new. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, hold that thought. Most of the posts written are actually by a young girl (hellblogger). Ahh. Now that's interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5) The design.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a normal blogger blog with a three pane template. The title has a picture of the school on it and the panes are filled with anti Keralite badges and widgets. Oddly there's a badge which advocates support for tigers and a badge for Greenpeace. Heh, a weird place to find that! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6) The writing.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is actually pretty good. I have to admit it. It's really good. These are written by people with a talent for words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry loss though that they squander they're talent on meaningless hate speech. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7) Random posts.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is very very interesting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first few posts are by the girl named HellBlogger and they target specific boys of the school calling them either gay or really really stupid. The next posts target the faculty .... and then she targets the girls (ugly and whores) in the school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all this, she runs into her tirade about Keralite's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huh. Interesting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8) The conclusion.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we have a group of kids who feel that they have been discriminated against by a school run pre-dominantly by Keralites. They're kids ... and so they vent their anger that is supposed to be directed towards the faculty at an entire community. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why ? Because that's what you do when you have a very narrow mind and your thinking space constitutes a 2 x 2 wooden cube.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is now clear that the girl named HellBlogger is the one who started the blog. Her case is different. From what I can deduce ... it seems like she might actually have had a crush on one of the guys of her school. She gets rejected. The guy falls for another girl. The cycle repeats itself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So heartbroken and angry she starts a blog and attacks the guys first (along with their pics which is very very immature) and the girls later. Along the way she attacks the faculty which she clearly dislikes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why the hatred for Keralites. My best guess ? The guys she liked and the girls who stole them were Keralites. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:D &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HellBlogger ... you might read this. If you've been discriminated by a Keralite, I'm sorry. But that does not justify you going up against an entire community. You're attitude is more like a sulking little rejected girl rather than a scarred life. You're inability to see the world for what it is is your biggest drawback. You'd might want to look at that first before you go along with your hate speech. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to give you a long sarcastic feedback filled with expletives but I decided against it. Why ? Because you're just a kid and maybe you'll grow to be more wiser in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, the best you'd do is call me gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**UPDATE 01/06/08**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guys over at UIS have responded which I expected them to. A note of thanks to the anonymous commentor on this post for giving me the heads up. I had a good laugh out of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What ? Did you think I'd get all flushed up and pissed ? No, I expected the retaliation. And yes, the best you did was call me gay and a tuna among others. I'm not going to respond because I've got better things to do and this post was for my readers. You're post is for yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And anyways, responding to you would just be a recurring headache.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-6689538506473834500?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/6689538506473834500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=6689538506473834500&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6689538506473834500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6689538506473834500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/05/of-cyberspace-rascism.html' title='Of cyberspace racism'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-6799348002454500027</id><published>2008-05-26T16:23:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-27T11:21:41.401+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snippet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blog Catalog'/><title type='text'>Of Addiction and rehab</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.oneplusyou.com/bb/blog_addiction" style="color: #D64B32; text-decoration: none; display: block; width: 286px; height: 128px; padding-top: 50px; padding-left: 17px; background: url(http://www.oneplusyou.com/q/img/bb_badges/blog_addiction.jpg) no-repeat; font-family: Times New Roman, sans-serif; font-size: 30px;"&gt;88%&lt;span style="display: none;"&gt;How Addicted to Blogging Are You?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;Created by OnePlusYou - &lt;a href="http://www.oneplusyou.com"&gt;Free Online Dating&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why don't you introduce yourself to the rest of us and tell us why you're here?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyes span across the people in the room. There are about a dozen people and I notice a chance few. A ninja, a pin-up girl, a guy who wears a top hat, another guy with a baseball cap on backwards and a guy who I can only describe as Hobbes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes. How did I end up here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell them my name. They greet me. I can't find any words after that. They look so ... so ... devastated. I'm stuck in a shitty basement surrounded by the sort of sad people society would call losers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm one such loser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tell us. Tell us what happened. From the beginning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I started blogging in 2008. New Year's day. It was to be my new hobby. I had resolved to quit smoking and start blogging instead. It seemed like a noble prospect. It gained me praise. Little was I to know. And if any of you are wondering, I started smoking two weeks later." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say that with a smile. No one smiles back. I look down at my hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It was all right in the beginning. Blogging about anything and everything I wanted to blog about. A couple of my friends encouraged me. They read my blog occasionally and some of them left comments. Comments that were not relevant to the post but comments all the same. I was OK for a while." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But then it all began. The need for more. I started reading other people's blogs. I saw the sort of readers they attracted. People with like minded mentality. People who objected and started post wars. People who just came in to say the posts made them think. I wanted all that. I wanted to be like those bloggers. I wanted the exposure. Admiration became envy in the bat of an eye and I didn't even notice it." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I began commenting on their blogs. Some of them paid the compliment by visiting and commenting on my blog. But it still wasn't enough. Then I noticed that one of my visitors was part of a social network. A social network for bloggers. One that had a lot of bloggers. And it looked like he had a major part of his traffic coming from there." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moderator places a hand over mine. "We are not allowed use the word "traffic" here. It's one of our rules. Its ..." she shakes her head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anyway. The site's name was Blog Catalog." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few wince as if in the memory of pain endured long ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I did what anyone would have done. I signed up. I didn't think about it. If the other's were doing it, why shouldn't I ? I wanted to be like them. I cant be blamed for wishing for the moon." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No one's blaming you." the moderator says softly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nod. No this was not the place for the blame game. This was not that sort of place at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"At first it was all about the widgets. That was all I did for the first week. The widgets and surfing through other blogger profiles. No harm. Just some time spent." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But then ... after the first week ... I ... I ... clicked on the discussions button." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear a gasp. I notice a tear somewhere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I cant say the rest was history. I have to tell you the horror. The madness. The desperation. I started by replying to a few threads. You know ... lurking around. Laughing at the spammers, stuff like that." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But then I started to get engrossed in the discussions. Debate's started forming in my head. They carried on to my dreams. I was falling for the whole idea. I agreed with some, I scoffed at the others. My political views changed. My social views changed. My views on human emotion changed. When I look back at it now I realize they were all changing accordingly with the BC mob ... it was slowly changing my life." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hand on mine again. "We are not allowed to say "BC" either." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nod. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Minutes became half hours. Half hours became two hours. Two hours turned to evenings. Evenings turned to midnight. I noticed none of this. I ordered food. I held my pee while pressing F5. I drank coffee to make sure I didn't sleep in the middle of a post war. I prayed for people to start flame wars. I started flirting with the women. I even called myself Casanova." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dig my face into my hands with a moan. I can sense the feeling of attachment in this place. Everyone knows what I'm talking about. The moderator does not pat me or soothe me. She knows its not needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rise. The story is not over yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I neglected my hygiene. Every time spent in the bathroom or anywhere else would be a minute lost in the discussions thread. A lot can happen in a minute. Food did not fill my hunger anymore. Water did not quench my thirst. I did not stop smoking. But my blogging cut down drastically. I didn't care if I got any tr-- ... visitors on my blog. All I cared was if someone replied to my threads, my replies or my shoutbox." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My girlfriend left me. She said I seemed to be obsessed with a particular member of the site. And the truth is ... I was. No, I am. My family tried to contact me, but I rarely took their calls. I didn't want to be disturbed. I had more important things to do. They eventually gave up ... and disowned me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shake my head as I consider what I just said. The futility of my past. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"People began to realize I had a problem from then on. For one I was rarely seen outside other than in my office. My work lagged as I sat on my workstation logged onto Blog Catalog. When I spoke to workers I spoke only about Digg articles I saw on the discussions thread. It was either that or politics or worse ... religion. And when I started a conversation, I would tag it with labels ... or say "hey this is general discussion" or "this is shameless my work promotion". My boss reported me to the office shrink." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He ran some sort of mental test on me. He's the one who diagnosed me with ... with addiction. I couldn't believe it. Me ? Addicted ? I laughed in his face. If I remember correctly, I laughed a bit too loudly. I ran home and shut the doors and typed up a new thread and tried to joke it off. I desperately wanted people to tell me I was fine. You see I knew then ... that I truly was addicted. But I just didn't want to believe it." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then the Surgeon Generals report came out. It warned the public of the dangers and the fatality. Then the grisly news reports : bloggers found dead at their computers, a guy with his fingers stapled to the keyboard presumably by himself, a woman cackling and screaming at her screen; her fingers withered away with constant typing." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I woke up. I was going to go crazy just like them. I started seeking help. Some of them were drastic. Doctors forced me away from the Internet. But when I sat at a computer that wasn't connected to the Internet, I hammered it to dust. They forced me away from all computers then. I turned into a hungry animal with that. They said I would go past it. They said it was a phase. What did they know ? What did they know about the craving ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I raise my palm for everyone to see. "These fingers. They still twitch for the keys that are no longer there." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman among the group burst into tears. The rest try to fight back the tears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Last week, the clinic recommended this group. I wandered outside this building for the next six days, unsure and scared. I didn't know how to enter or what to say. But today I just thought : to hell with it. And so I'm here. With people who were there. With people who suffered the same. With people who know what I feel." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"With people I can connect to."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a short silence. But a comfortable one. Then the applause starts. Everyone stands up and applauds. I feel the tears warm and free flowing on my cheeks. I feel a sunrise inside me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The applause dies down. Everyone takes their seats. The moderator turns to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is there a final word you would like to say." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at her. I look at the group. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Actually, yes." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She gestures with her hand. Go ahead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take a deep breath. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok, general discussion. Why is McCain in the White House a bad thing ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pandemonium. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Authors note: Inspired by a delightful &lt;a href="http://sogeshirts.blogspot.com/2008/05/social-media-unsocial-me.html"&gt;blog post&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://sogeshirts.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sogeshirts&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-6799348002454500027?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/6799348002454500027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=6799348002454500027&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6799348002454500027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6799348002454500027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/05/of-addiction-and-rehab.html' title='Of Addiction and rehab'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-3707071412060973034</id><published>2008-05-23T19:28:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-23T19:49:08.276+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TV'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Of Reality TV</title><content type='html'>When they came out, people were like ooooh and aaaah! I remember the first reality show I saw : Survivor. I never really got the point of it. What did they try to accomplish other than TV ratings and ad money ? A moral statement that said humans dont blend so well under harsh circumstances ? I gotta tell you ... that's nothing new. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why was everyone so goo goo gaa gaa over reality shows ? The news channel is a true reality show. No one drools over that ? No, people seem to have an affection to shows where people's characters are either ripped apart or showered in gold. Put in a celebrity or two and you've got big dollars in revenue. There isn't a decent sitcom or show that you can honestly sink into. Why ? Because everyone wants be an idol or a superhero or the last person to come out of a house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of days ago I was watching an Indian reality show. I dont remember the channel, it was either 9x or Sony. Anyhoo, the contestants were children and they were required to dance their way to glory. The anchors were people I have never seen before and the judges included Raveena Tandon (who still looks gorgeous, by the way) and two others who, again, I have no idea. When it came to the elimination, the audience decided to vote out a pair who had been lavishly praised and honestly to me looked talented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea why they were voted out, but the audience looked like they were least interested and maybe, just maybe they had voted randomly on the unfortunate pair. The kids were crying like hell and I dont blame them. They're young and they had to cope with failure at a very tender age. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The anchors however were bawling too ! The lady anchor was openly crying and the male anchor sits down on the floor with an obviously fake look of devastation on his face. He wipes his eyes periodically but for the love of me I couldnt see any tears coming out of them. And just when you thought he couldnt make it any worse the guy actually starts to sing a sad song! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, for the love of God !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suffice to say, I switched channels immediately. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Celebrity shows are another thing I cant stand. I did not watch the Paris Hilton show on principle but I did have the misfortune of watching the Paula Abdul show and the Hogan show. The Paula Abdul show was annoying to the core and I just couldnt stand it anymore when she started crying because her assistant forgot to bring her matching shoes to her dress. Really ... how long can you take it when a watch a woman do this all the time: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SDbSKq94O6I/AAAAAAAAAHc/gtkgVCkdbNk/s1600-h/paulaabdul.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SDbSKq94O6I/AAAAAAAAAHc/gtkgVCkdbNk/s320/paulaabdul.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203577500247538594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman, get a grip!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the Hogan show just made me feel really uncomfortable. There is something seriously wrong with that family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TV guys, if you're reading, please please ... scout for some great sitcoms like Frasier and Seinfield or even Friends but please cut down on the reality shows. You're basically sending the next generation the wrong idea that future TV lies with no soul reality shows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe me, I would not want to live in such an era.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-3707071412060973034?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/3707071412060973034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=3707071412060973034&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3707071412060973034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3707071412060973034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/05/of-reality-tv.html' title='Of Reality TV'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SDbSKq94O6I/AAAAAAAAAHc/gtkgVCkdbNk/s72-c/paulaabdul.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-6962854932257684790</id><published>2008-05-19T17:54:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-10T17:13:20.328+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><title type='text'>Of Jodhaa Akbar</title><content type='html'>&lt;table style="WIDTH: 370px; BACKGROUND-COLOR: #333333" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;iframe style="OVERFLOW: hidden" src="http://www.chakpak.com/cpl/widget?action=WAction&amp;amp;WT=ImgSSv1&amp;amp;height=250&amp;amp;width=370&amp;amp;m=18894" frameborder="0" width="370" scrolling="no" height="250" scrollbar="NO"&gt; &lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr style="PADDING-RIGHT: 4px; PADDING-LEFT: 4px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 2px; PADDING-TOP: 0px"&gt;&lt;td class="iflnk" style="PADDING-RIGHT: 4px; PADDING-LEFT: 4px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 2px; PADDING-TOP: 0px" align="left"&gt;Powered by: &lt;a href="http://www.chakpak.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Chakpak.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="iflnk" align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.chakpak.com/movie/jodhaa-akbar/18894" target="_blank"&gt;Jodhaa Akbar&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know it's late to be reviewing this, but I was only able to watch the movie over the weekend and since this was an eagerly awaited movie I just couldn't resist reviewing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jodhaa Akbar&lt;/em&gt; (JB) is a 2008 historical epic starring Bollywood heartthrob Hrithik Roshan and former Miss World Aishwarya Rai. The premise of the movie is the romance between the sixteenth century Mughal emperor Akbar and the Rajput princess Hira Kunwari Sahiba who is referred to as Jodhaa in the movie. IMDB clocks this movie at 213 minutes which is pretty long even for a Bollywood movie. Ashutosh Gowariker whose earlier credits include the Academy Award nominated &lt;em&gt;Lagaan&lt;/em&gt; and the critically acclaimed &lt;em&gt;Swades&lt;/em&gt; directs this movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching &lt;em&gt;JB&lt;/em&gt; is like watching Ridley Scott's &lt;em&gt;Heaven on Earth&lt;/em&gt;; a movie that was painfully politically correct in its every stride. While this is not necessarily a bad thing it does make the movie more artificial rather than real. &lt;em&gt;JB&lt;/em&gt; is also similar to Santosh Sivan's biopic &lt;em&gt;Asoka&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;em&gt;Asoka&lt;/em&gt; tried to theorize that it was love that turned a warrior blood thirsty king to a non violent Buddhist. It is the same sort of love, apparently, that turns Akbar into a wise and secular emperor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bollywood historical epics, in my opinion, have always been a joke. They never get the facts right and they always end up making a larger than life character out of real people. For instance did you know that Mangal Pandey was hanged in secret by the British because they did not want an uprising over his death ? Yet the movie makes a dramatic public execution that leads to a revolt and subsequently the War of 1857 at the same moment he dies. Rajkumar Santoshi's &lt;em&gt;The Legend of Bhagath Singh&lt;/em&gt; with all its 15 years of research made a glaring mistake. Singh shot the wrong man in Lahore. DSP Saunders was not the target; Police chief Scott was. But of course the hero of the movie can't make mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;JB&lt;/em&gt; however has a disclaimer right before the credits that state it is based on only one of the versions of historical record and that there are other versions. Gowariker himself has stated that most of the movie was his imagination, so I will forgive some of the inaccuracies I saw in the movie. Yes, I know, I'm weird that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Hrithik's movie all the way. He truly personifies the glamour, lavishness and fury of the Mughals. His Akbar is a very restrained performance and he is excellent while portraying the young emperor who is lovestruck and vulnerable. Aishwarya does a good job portraying Jodhaa but I just couldn't see her as a Rajput princess. The Rajput's were defiant and fiery and you see none of that in her. She even holds a sword like a clumsy drunk buffoon in one very embarrassing scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cinematography is another strong point in this movie. Before special effects Hollywood was famous for its camera work (&lt;em&gt;Ben Hur&lt;/em&gt; for example) and it seems Indian cinema has reached this stage. The camera makes epic the ancient battlefields of India and it also captures the elegance and magnitude of the Mughal and Rajput palaces. The elephant sequence and the climactic scenes are a gem to watch for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it's directed by Ashutosh Gowariker you have to expect a lot which is exactly what I did but I have to say I was disappointed. There are some scenes in the movie which are just stunning like the execution of Akbar's elder brother and then there are some scenes which were unbelievably corny like the death of Jodhaa's brother. The film is long running at over 3 hours and it seems like Gowariker seems to have lost his way on certain days of shooting. If I were to draw the high points and low in chronological order of the movie it would look like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SDGB6RJ-TEI/AAAAAAAAAHU/R8hO8_I7Y9o/s1600-h/spam-graph.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202081882627263554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SDGB6RJ-TEI/AAAAAAAAAHU/R8hO8_I7Y9o/s320/spam-graph.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jodhaa Akbar&lt;/em&gt; is a good movie and bold according to Bollywood standards but it loses some its pitch at various points. Also it's a bit long and this will take the interest out of any person who's not much into history. Watch it if you liked &lt;em&gt;Lagaan&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;Swades&lt;/em&gt;, but give it a miss if you don't like historical epics and if you don't want to spend 3 hours on a movie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-6962854932257684790?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/6962854932257684790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=6962854932257684790&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6962854932257684790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6962854932257684790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/05/of-jodhaa-akbar.html' title='Of Jodhaa Akbar'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SDGB6RJ-TEI/AAAAAAAAAHU/R8hO8_I7Y9o/s72-c/spam-graph.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-703397808020870195</id><published>2008-05-16T15:53:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-16T16:30:03.749+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Current Affairs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Of human rights</title><content type='html'>A cyclone devastates a South Asian country. Thousands are dead and hundreds of thousands are missing, presumed dead. The world pitches in to help but the regime that governs the country holds the supplies and then distributes the supplies to its trauma stricken citizens as propaganda. They then hold a referendum among the people to make sure they stay in power. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An African country is ripped apart by civil war. A refugee crisis of unthinkable magnitude originates. Rape, murder and other acts of genocide take place on a daily basis. The refugee's are starving and wake up every day knowing that they will either die of starvation or will be killed by a state sponsored militia. What does the world do ? The world debates on whether or not it's genocide and whether or not they should interfere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man in an Islamic country is harassed because he put up some offensive materials on his website. The website is hacked and a death threat pasted on the front page. The man is told that he will face charges but nothing is done about the death threats. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman and her lover are killed in a remote village in India. The killers are her own father and brother. They wanted to restore the honour to their family which the woman lost when she decided to live in with her lover after divorcing her husband. The family drags her and the lover out of their house and beats them to death in broad daylight. The villagers watch and applaud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March 15th 2008. Human Rights Day. Are you kidding me ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you heard of the Geneva Convention ? It was supposed to make war civilized. We've had a lot of wars since the convention ... has anyone of you witnessed a civilized war ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you heard of the UN ? It was supposed to protect human rights. That was it's basic objective. "Never again" was the catchphrase used during the Armenian genocide.   The Jewish Holoucast occured after that but there was no UN to stop that from happening right ? What about after the UN was formed ? Rwanda, Serebrenica, Darfur ... to name a few. And please dont tell me that the perpetrators were caught and put on trial. We're supposed to stop such things before they happen, not swear that we won't allow it to happen ever again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Never again" is what everyone says. I say what the f**k were we doing when it happened the first time ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what's ironic ? The cavemen that we thought were dumb and stupid according to our standards are the one's who enjoyed human rights. The advanced and civilized us have none. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So stop kidding yourselves. You have no rights and never will earn it ... until the day you're fellow human has it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-703397808020870195?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/703397808020870195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=703397808020870195&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/703397808020870195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/703397808020870195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/05/of-human-rights.html' title='Of human rights'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-4982748123177602857</id><published>2008-05-14T15:48:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-14T16:34:25.949+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><title type='text'>Of becoming an internet phenom</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"I always wanted to be a news anchor ... the news they break to shocked people around the world, that's so powerful ! That's why I wanted to be a news anchor."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smiles. Her makeup on her cheeks actually cracks as she does. Lady, I saw you an hour ago ... and boy I got to admit : being on television breaks a lot of myths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks back at her papers. The executives behind us work as though nothing is happening. I've always wondered how they can just wander around when they know they're live on TV. I guess they just don't have the time for it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You come in highly recommended."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know. I was among the best at WNBC."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She nods. She hasn't looked at me yet but she still goes through her papers. I shuffle through mine. I really don't need to go through them, I already have a gist. That's your gift when you're experienced. You have the gist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Live in 2 minutes!" someone calls out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You OK?" the producer points at me and asks. I give him a thumbs up and smile. What a loser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing tomorrow night ?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks at me and smiles a sarcastic smile. "Oh no, I don't date colleagues."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not what I heard from the grapevine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh OK. But the offers still open ... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She chuckles. "Darling, a lot of offers are still open. I do not date colleagues."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll see, I think to myself. I just hope she keeps the darn makeup when she's with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sixty seconds."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I check the technicals. Mike's OK, wires are OK, balls OK. Good to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She pushes her papers in place and sighs. She sits erect and tosses her hair around one final time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Here we go ..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Welcome to Fox."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smile. That was touching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Five !"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Two !"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The producer gives me his thumbs up. We're live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swivel in my chair and face the camera. I look straight at it, gives it&lt;br /&gt;my best smile and manages to say in my best anchor voice:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fuck! I just made You Tube history !"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The producer's face literally explodes. "Jesus ! Get off the god damned air !!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get up as pandemonium breaks loose. She stares at me with her mouth gaping. She looks like a Disney witch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Have a lovely day darling."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smile and walk out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Authors note: Inspired by a &lt;a href="http://digg.com/television/Top_10_Angry_Television_Reporter_Moments_Caught_On_Tape"&gt;digg article&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-4982748123177602857?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/4982748123177602857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=4982748123177602857&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4982748123177602857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4982748123177602857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/05/of-becoming-internet-phenom.html' title='Of becoming an internet phenom'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-8429840246446668604</id><published>2008-05-12T16:04:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-12T17:06:44.000+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Current Affairs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humanity'/><title type='text'>Of Pangea Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SCgqdRJ-TDI/AAAAAAAAAHM/HhVL_QOuKbQ/s1600-h/Pangea113x85.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199452452109044786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SCgqdRJ-TDI/AAAAAAAAAHM/HhVL_QOuKbQ/s320/Pangea113x85.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pangeaday.org/index.php"&gt;Pangea Day&lt;/a&gt; was broadcast live all over the world on TVs, internet and mobile on the evening of May 10th which by the way turned out to be 11.30 pm for us, which meant I watched the program on May 11. For those of you who don't know what this was all about Pangea Day was an innovative program featuring short films from all over the world in an attempt to make people understand that emotions, however different they may seem are actually basically the same everywhere. In other words we are not different from the people who we consider our enemies and that we are all the same irrespective of where we come from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a movie critic I really liked the show which showcased some brilliant short movies (which are the hardest to make) including two from India. there were three movies that I really liked : &lt;em&gt;J'Attendrai Le Suivant&lt;/em&gt; from France; &lt;em&gt;Elevator Music&lt;/em&gt; from the UK and &lt;em&gt;More&lt;/em&gt; from the US. If you'd like to watch these movies and the others featured on the show; you can do so &lt;a href="http://www.pangeaday.org/pangeadayFilms.php"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the humanitarian side I thought this was a very brave and novel approach to world peace. There were some truly touching scenes in the show but none more touching than the finale where an Israeli woman and a Palestinian man came on stage hand in hand after having lost direct relatives and still believing that peace will come to their troubled lands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Touching, truly was. But, just being touching is not going to help. The question I asked myself was exactly how effective this show was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I sat there watching it, I couldn't help but think of the many people I know &lt;em&gt;personally&lt;/em&gt; who would have scoffed at the show. I thought about the people I knew would ridicule the Egyptian group for the music and their language. I thought of the people I knew would consider with contempt the movies made in the Islamic world. These people wouldn't have even watched this show and even if they did they'd probably have just walked out after an hour or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not just the people in India. I'd bet you the people over at shelleytherepublican.com would have screamed treason if they ever saw &lt;em&gt;Operation Homecoming&lt;/em&gt;. How do shows like this get to people like them ? Simple answer: they don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, was it an exercise in futility ? No. It was a start and believe me that's better than nothing at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you live in a place where multitudes of culture's meet at crossroads it's easy for you lose hope in humanity. Sadly, India is one such place. The distrust and hatred that exists on so many levels of racism is so thick that you can almost smell it in the air. A colleague of mine once told me he hated Muslims; my neighbor laughed as he watched a news report on how Hindu mobs were slaughtering Muslims in Gujarat. I have listened as five Muslim men ridiculed and laughed at a documentary on Hindu customs and traditions. One went so far as to call Hindus the "damned" people who would never see heaven. This person was fully aware that I was in the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you reach these people ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've tried to change the thoughts of a few people dear to me, but other than them I really don't think people will want to listen. They have been brought up in a society that has told them that they are superior. And these people are not illiterate. They have been taught both sides of the story: the scientific and the spiritual; the humanism and the fundamentalism. And in today's day and age it's frightening to know that many still believe in the spiritualism and the fundamentalism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you reach these people ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pangea Day was a noble effort. But did it reach the audience that &lt;em&gt;should&lt;/em&gt; have watched it ? It's success cannot be measured by the number of viewers but by the number of people whose thoughts and views it changes. Until then, it will remain as an effort and only that; one among the countless others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-8429840246446668604?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/8429840246446668604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=8429840246446668604&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/8429840246446668604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/8429840246446668604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/05/of-pangea-day.html' title='Of Pangea Day'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SCgqdRJ-TDI/AAAAAAAAAHM/HhVL_QOuKbQ/s72-c/Pangea113x85.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-6440347900412157592</id><published>2008-05-08T16:11:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-08T16:57:01.959+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fiction'/><title type='text'>Of saying goodbye (ver 2)</title><content type='html'>Imagine the prettiest girl you've ever seen. The sort of pretty that's hard to avoid. The more you look at her the more pretty she becomes until she's so gorgeous that it's hard to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is what she looks like. A dream come true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its hard not to stare at her. As she walks towards me all eyes in the cafe are on her. She has that naughty smile on her face, the smile that tells me that she knows I'm going up in smoke as well as all the others. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sits on the couch facing me, crosses her legs and raises her glass of martini to her lips. God, she's graceful in every move. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi" I say. All those eyes now face me with jealousy and brief hatred. I'm telling you ... she has that kind of hold over people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey" she replies and smiles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The song that plays is &lt;em&gt;Silence&lt;/em&gt; by &lt;em&gt;Delirium&lt;/em&gt;. I can see her sing this song to me in my mind. I look down at my glass and realize it's untouched. I haven't had a drop to drink but the very presence has drowned me under the influence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grin and she notices. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's so funny ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shake my head. What can I tell her ? That I'm madly in love with her? That sometimes it's driven me to do crazy things ? That I think about her every second of the day from the minute I open my eyes till the minute I close them ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sometimes it's so hard, I cry myself to sleep ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, really ... what's so funny ? Is it something at work ?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I give her a look that implies she's nuts. "Come on, you know nothing funny ever happens at work."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK. Private joke then. I just hope it wasn't at my expense." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smiles and takes another sip. She looks up at the lights inadvertently shaking her head ever so softly but just about enough to make her hair move as though they had a life of their own. The lights play a devilish game with her face and eyes and she looks like a goddess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want her. I really do. I just need her. Once ... and then let fate decide. I press my lips as I slowly realize my love life is forever shattered. I cannot love anyone else with the same intensity, the same ferocity, the same turbulence with which I love her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lights make her eyes twinkle like small diamonds and I wonder if the heavens really do like cruel jokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Any plans for tonight ?" I ask desperate to make her talk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks at me. "No. I just want this to be one peaceful night." Another sip. And silence again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is she thinking about ? My gut wrenches as I realize I have only a few seconds left, at most a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost as if on cue, her cell rings. I look back down at my glass. She speaks into the phone for only a couple of seconds but it's enough for me to understand. It's time for her to leave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look back at her just as she tosses her head back (again gracefully) and finishes her drink. She collects her bag and rises. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's here." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nod. I stand up and place my glass on the table. She moves closer and gives me a light kiss on my cheek. I smell her perfume, the softness of her lips and the touch of her skin ... it's all enough to make me feel a bit dizzy. I'm vulnerable and I just might tell her; at this last minute I might just tell her ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hands find hers ... and my fingers find her ring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I tell her ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smiles into my eyes. "Keep in touch. I'll miss you." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smile my best smile but I don't say anything. I'm scared my voice will betray me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then she walks away. The lump in my throat is hard to push down and as she walks out the door the first tear rolls down my cheek. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, life just isn't fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look down at my glass. It's still untouched. I sit back down and take my first sip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope, life just isn't fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Author's note: This is my first snippet of fiction in over a year. The short story that I blogged about earlier is finished and will be up during the weekend. I havent put in an appropriate title for the above snippet, let me know a few suggestions for a title. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-6440347900412157592?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/6440347900412157592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=6440347900412157592&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6440347900412157592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6440347900412157592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/05/of-saying-goodbye-ver-2.html' title='Of saying goodbye (ver 2)'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-1658951276687080931</id><published>2008-05-03T16:28:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-03T17:23:31.764+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Of Kareena and Size Zero</title><content type='html'>Know what, there's been a lot of sad emotions going through this blog for quite some time now. I think it really needs a good facelift. And what better way to do that than with a nice healthy rant !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I normally dont do celebrities but I just have to on this particular topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The media has been going goo-gaa over the fact that Kareena has become a size zero. For those of you who dont know, Kareena is a top Bollywood actress (images later) who recently acted in a box-office dud called "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tashan&lt;/span&gt;". In this movie she wears a lime green bra that seems to have bowled over everyone's mind. If she really is a size zero I DO NOT want to see her in that lime green bra ever again !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, here's prespective because images are way better than words in such a case:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Kareena, voluptuous, sexy and absolutely delicious in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SBxMjFMF1oI/AAAAAAAAAG8/fN9Name5FAI/s1600-h/kareena+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SBxMjFMF1oI/AAAAAAAAAG8/fN9Name5FAI/s320/kareena+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196112235650733698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Kareena, famished, looking like she might just faint and her RIBS showing in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Tashan&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SBxMOFMF1nI/AAAAAAAAAG0/W5z0zhH606Q/s1600-h/6B867FE94E23F839AC290C2345569.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SBxMOFMF1nI/AAAAAAAAAG0/W5z0zhH606Q/s320/6B867FE94E23F839AC290C2345569.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196111874873480818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what the glorious people over at MSN India had to say about the above pic : &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;She has not looked so hot on screen ever before. She is surely making heads turn with her image makeover and personal life.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's something I'd like to say to the MSN India dickheads: a majority of us guys like girls with meat on her bones. We would prefer not feeling her endoskeleton in bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there are a lot of teenage girls already gaping at what many concieve is going to be the latest fad in women fashion. If you are one of those teenage girls then here's something to ponder about. As freakishly scary Kareena looks in that absolutely wierd picture that is NOT size zero. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is size zero: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SBxQR1MF1pI/AAAAAAAAAHE/78ICrGlaNGc/s1600-h/0,,5389909,00.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SBxQR1MF1pI/AAAAAAAAAHE/78ICrGlaNGc/s320/0,,5389909,00.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196116337344501394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone thinks the above pic is not that bad ... here's some more food for thought. The two girls in the above pic are Uruguayan size zero models. They're names are Eliana and Louisel Ramos. They're sisters. They're also dead ... both from malnutrition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dead. Ok ? That's the danger when you try going Size Zero. You can end up DEAD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies, please keep your curves on. They are way more sexier than ribs ... and they are absolutely cute. So please go ahead, grab a burger and believe me : no one wants to see you as a size zero.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-1658951276687080931?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/1658951276687080931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=1658951276687080931&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1658951276687080931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1658951276687080931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/05/of-kareena-and-size-zero.html' title='Of Kareena and Size Zero'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/SBxMjFMF1oI/AAAAAAAAAG8/fN9Name5FAI/s72-c/kareena+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-4879236275446502591</id><published>2008-04-28T15:11:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-10T17:15:37.671+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alex'/><title type='text'>Of saying goodbye</title><content type='html'>How do you say goodbye ? Not to a person but to a dream ? A cherished dream that would have held the future for you, a dream that would have lasted all your life ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is what I have to say goodbye to when I say goodbye to Bangalore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, apologies for not posting anything for nearly a month. The past three weeks have been a crazy whirlwind of emotions, heated discussions and difficult decisions. At the end of it all, for better or for worse, I've decided to leave Bangalore. Health, finance, career and family all had their part in this decision which I have to say, was one of the hardest I have ever had to take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years ago on this very day I first set foot upon Bangalore. The myth's and legends of Bangalore being the techno savvy city of India were all thrown out the window in the first five minutes. While I was expecting something hi-tech I was greeted with pollution, garbage, stench and crowds. Of course this isn't the case for the whole of Bangalore but to someone who had come in for the first time, it was a bit of a shock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met V after four years that day and old friendships were renewed. Bangalore is the city that brought me back to my roots and my childhood.  I was happy here ... for the first six to seven months, but then things went down a steady spiral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cant quite put my finger on what really happened, but I am sure that the dream did not work out. Working and being happy in your own country is something we all wish for but as you all know we almost never get what we wish for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dream isnt a total failure however. Career wise, Bangalore has done miracles for me. I can now go up to any interview without fear and work in any corporate without fear because I've been exposed to international work standards. This was not the case with my previous stint in Abu Dhabi where I worked for a local Arab company. In that office everyone screamed at each other and curiously, screamed at their computers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But its still goodbye. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are things in Bangalore that I wont miss. The pollution, the dust, the mosquito's, the rascist tones and most importantly, the dogs. Bangalore must have the highest population of stray dogs. You will not find a cat here and even if you do they'll be living on rooftops not daring to get down. Seriously after 11 pm Bangalore belongs to the dogs. I have been chased countless number of times by these hideous fanged creatures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I will miss are the malls, the pubs, the girls and the friends. There are memories here that I will never forget. Getting drunk with V and K, sitting by a lake in front of V's office and so many more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When there were good time's there were also the bad times. And during these bad times I have hurt a number of people. I'm not going to name people but if you're one of them then please do know I that I am extremely sorry for my actions. I've apologised a number of times and a lot people have thought that I've never meant it but I do, I do mean it, from the bottom of my heart ... I do mean it when I say I'm sorry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is one memory I will forever cherish and that was meeting "her" for the first time. She was a long distance relationship and after two years of chatting and emails I finally saw her for the first time two years ago on this very same day. She was blurred in my vision that day; not because of tears, but because I was not wearing my glasses at the time; but that blurred image of her in a black tshirt and spotless white chicas will always be there in that album of memory snapshots. It's goodbye to you too, I've tried contacting you for the last few weeks but ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've slowly and surely drifted apart, you and I, and however much I may think it was all your fault on drunken nights I know I had my part to play in it too. I hope to see you again before I go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So its goodbye Bangalore and its more likely to be goodbye forever. It's goodbye to a dream I've had for four years but I must be strong. Change is unavoidable and life is never constant. It's time to turn the boat around ... and try once again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-4879236275446502591?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/4879236275446502591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=4879236275446502591&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4879236275446502591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4879236275446502591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/04/of-saying-goodbye.html' title='Of saying goodbye'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-8266869298070989926</id><published>2008-04-01T14:53:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-04-01T18:09:56.135+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tagged'/><title type='text'>Of thirty questions</title><content type='html'>I've been tagged!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is something I've been waiting for quite a long time now. I've read other bloggers getting tagged and sending them out and it seemed like a fun thing to do. I could have asked to be tagged but I didnt want to hurt my precious ego. So you see ? Waiting for something does work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many many thanks to &lt;a href="http://annseries.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ann&lt;/a&gt; for tagging me. May you rest assured that you have had the honor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without further ado please do delve into my complex mind:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-race.html"&gt;Race.&lt;/a&gt; It's fun when you watch a bad movie with V and K. Especially the part when a character said that you involuntarily say the truth when you're drunk. The three of us looked at each other at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?&lt;br /&gt;"Atlas Shrugged" by Ayn Rand. Nice theoroms but its kinda awkward when no two characters have a normal conversation without delving into philosophy. For ex:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Hi! What did you have for breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B: (starts off on a two page essay about objectivism which includes something about bacon and eggs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?&lt;br /&gt;Monopoly. I rule during the beginning and the middle of the game but once Mayfair is lost ... so am I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?&lt;br /&gt;That I've read ? Times. Favorite magazine I would like to read ? National Geographic.&lt;br /&gt;Favorite magazine I'd like to rip to shreds ? Cosmopolitan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. FAVORITE SMELLS?&lt;br /&gt;The smell of paint and gasoline. Oddly I know a lot of people who like the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. FAVORITE SOUNDS?&lt;br /&gt;It was the breaking glass intro of Stone Cold Steve Austin. But all that changed a year when I heard a tiger roar in the jungle at 2.45 am. That was exotic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?&lt;br /&gt;The feeling of not having accomplished anything. The feeling of failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE?&lt;br /&gt;Its a toss between these two: "I am so not drinking ever again" and "Dang It !! Not another wet dream !!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?&lt;br /&gt;McDonalds. I like their burgers. I do not like Roland. I've had a thing for clowns ever since I read Stephen King's IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?&lt;br /&gt;If its a girl: Navomika. If its a boy: ... I dont know ... Chucky, maybe ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY I'D...?&lt;br /&gt;Buy a house, get me a 59" plasma TV, a PS 3, an iMac and a Porsche. No ... you're not getting any of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Which is one of the reasons my Dad does not let me drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?&lt;br /&gt;No. I dont trust myself with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY?&lt;br /&gt;Cool! Till it tries to kill me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?&lt;br /&gt;A Maruti Zen. Remains to be my favorite car till date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. FAVORITE DRINK?&lt;br /&gt;Vodka. Just love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD&lt;br /&gt;Remake the Star War prequels, make them immortal to the movie industry, walk up to George Lucas and scream: "THATS HOW YOU DO IT YOU RETARD !!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?NO!!!&lt;br /&gt;Never had broccoli. Wooohooooo!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?&lt;br /&gt;Anyone see "The Island." Ewan McGregor dyes his hair in a particular way. I dont know what that color is but if any of you do ... let me know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN.&lt;br /&gt;Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Sharjah, Thrissur, Bangalore, Calicut&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?&lt;br /&gt;Soccer. Man U rules !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU.&lt;br /&gt;She's cute. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?&lt;br /&gt;When I had nightmares I used to have a crucifix. Then when I started sleep walking I had a cricket bat, a knife and the TV remote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing there now. Except maybe Debonair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. And I'd like to live the same life all over again, so I can rectify a couple of life altering mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL?&lt;br /&gt;Night Owl. I sleep at around 3 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?&lt;br /&gt;Sunny side up please with some pepper over the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?&lt;br /&gt;Tiger Ranch, Bandipur. This is an amazing jungle resort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. FAVORITE PIE?&lt;br /&gt;I dont like pies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate ice cream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST?&lt;br /&gt;Can't say. I'm placing my bet on Offended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew, so thats my first tag and I am going to send this over to the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://hamishjoy.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hamish&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.offendedblogger.com/"&gt;The Offended Blogger&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lordlikely.co.uk/"&gt;Lord Likely&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://identitycheck-anok.blogspot.com/"&gt;Anok&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pentads.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pentad&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.charmainezoe.blogspot.com/"&gt;Charmaine Zoe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http:///"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ekim-randomramblings.blogspot.com"&gt;Ekim&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was fun. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-8266869298070989926?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/8266869298070989926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=8266869298070989926&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/8266869298070989926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/8266869298070989926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/04/of-thirty-questions.html' title='Of thirty questions'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-3197941795505729746</id><published>2008-03-29T13:48:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-31T14:25:56.255+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bollywood'/><title type='text'>Of Race</title><content type='html'>&lt;style&gt;.iflnk, .iflnk a, .iflnk a:visited {background-color:#333333;color:#FFFFFF;font-family:Verdana,Georgia;font-size:11px;font-weight:bold;text-decoration:none;}.iflnk a:hover{text-decoration:underline;}&lt;/style&gt; &lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" style="width:370px;background-color:#333333;"&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.chakpak.com/cpl/widget?action=WAction&amp;WT=ImgSSv1&amp;height=250&amp;width=370&amp;m=18993" frameborder="0" allowtransparency="true" width="370" height="250  " scrollbar="NO" scrolling="no" style="overflow:hidden;"&gt; &lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr style="padding:0px 4px 2px 4px;"&gt; &lt;td style="padding:0px 4px 2px 4px;" class="iflnk" align="left" &gt;Powered by: &lt;a href="http://www.chakpak.com" target="_blank"&gt;Chakpak.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt; &lt;td class="iflnk" align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.chakpak.com/movie/race/18993" target="_blank"&gt;Race&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who don't like long rambling movie critiques I'll give it to you in a nutshell. Watch this movie till the intermission and then run for your life. Because as much as the story will engross you in the first hour it will literally kill you as you watch further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abbas-Mastan the "director-duo" has made a movie that is basically a carbon copy of their previous movies as well as using some silly Bollywood gimmicks of the crazy nineties. If you've watched their movies before then you'll know that this is a fast paced suspense thriller with twists every five minutes and characters who are all shady. There are so many twists in this movie that its hard to keep count. Murder, sex, betrayal and money - the four pillars or Abbas Mastan movies are in here and you have to wonder what these two think of themselves and their audience when they keep churning out the same formula every two years. Come on guys ... at least be creative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plot revolves around two brothers, Saif and Akshaye with Saif being the older, who are involved in a horse race outfit somewhere in Durban. Saif, the mature of the two has feelings for Bipasha Basu who incidentally is also the object of affection for Akshaye. Saif in an attempt to curb Akshaye's drinking problem sacrifices his love and steps aside as the two flirt their way into marriage. Meanwhile Saif has a secretary Katrina Kaif who harbors a secret crush for her boss which he mistakes as affection. Throw a murder into this outfit and you have an investigating officer Anil Kapoor who in turn is adored and worshipped by his assistant Sameera Reddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put in a few twists, boil it for a while and you have &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Race&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that I named the actors playing their respective roles and not the characters will tell you how disgusted I am with this movie. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Race&lt;/span&gt; has potential and if the above plot had been presented in a slightly different manner we would have had a blockbuster. The first half is actually quite good with at least one good twist. Anil Kapoor comes in at the intermission and then everything goes to hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is this man doing? He's a fine actor but why does he keep taking roles that portray him as some intelligent genius who cracks one liners and really poor sex related jokes ? He is horrible to watch in this movie. Every scene of his is embarrassing. The jokes aren't funny, his lewd approach to women aren't funny, his appearance isn't funny and he does not really add to the plot. Add to this travesty of screen casting is Sameera Reddy who plays his assistant (???) in skimpy clothes and no brains. All she has to do is keep reminding the audience that she works for a genius and strut her stuff. That is it. If there was any character you had to take off from this film, it has to be her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katrina Kaif is another failure in this movie. Oh yes she's gorgeous with some really sexy legs but in the name of everything that is good and holy will everyone please stop telling me that she's the next big Bollywood actress. While I wont doubt the fact that she can act (Namaste London for ex) she falls flat on her face in Race.  Her role is of importance to the plot but somehow all she does is walk around in mini office skirts and smile. Her one scene of sorrow is pure torture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saif, I think, is trying to break his image as the confused romantic comedian and he does well in a new role. Bipasha too does justice while Akshay breezes through a role he has done quite often in the past. However they are all let down by an awful script and some really corny lines. At one point in the movie a character says "girne aur marne mey bahut fark hota hai" which when translated means : there's a difference between falling and dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well ... DUH !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While there are no plot holes which left me mildly surprised there are a number of goof ups particularly in the geography department. The story is set in Durban, South Africa but when Katrina takes a coke out of her refrigerator, the Arabic letters of "Coke" can be clearly seen. (Due to the fact that half the movie was shot in Dubai Media City) And the climactic race scene goes through three countries, namely: South Africa, UAE and India. This particular sequence is so stupid that one car driving through the desert goes through a tunnel and lo, behold when he comes out he's on the edge of a cliff above a thick dense forest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is just plain insulting the viewers intelligence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is one great highlight in this movie. A one minute sequence featuring the veteran Johnny Lever. I've not been a great fan of this comedian but I must admit he was a pure gem in his brief scene. It's so great that its sad to know that something so well done had to be placed in a movie so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Race&lt;/span&gt; a miss. You wont regret it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-3197941795505729746?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/3197941795505729746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=3197941795505729746&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3197941795505729746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3197941795505729746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-race.html' title='Of Race'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-4239960943698764500</id><published>2008-03-26T11:07:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-26T12:47:24.547+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Of murders and affairs</title><content type='html'>K sent me an email today from work. It had &lt;a href="http://www.mumbaimirror.com/net/mmpaper.aspx?Page=article&amp;amp;sectid=3&amp;amp;contentid=2008032520080325020831108ed010d3f"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; link on it. To proceed I'd recommend you read the entire story and come back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Done ? Good. Oh and by the way I didn't even know this happened in Bangalore until today. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with the link was the link to the guy's orkut profile. When I checked, a lot of sympathizers had filled his scrapbook with condolences and heartfelt poems. I'm not providing that link here out of respect for the dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And its out of the same respect that I'll be brief about this particular murder which has had guys and gals divided. So in a nutshell :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys: before he killed himself, he &lt;em&gt;killed her&lt;/em&gt;. He lost my sympathies right there. I've been through a divorce in my family. I know how things can get real ugly and how stories can be twisted. Oh and remember there's an alleged poisoning attempt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gals: before you make her a martyr to the feminine cause, here's food for thought: she was alleged to have an affair (which I think is true; reasons later). Now if she did have one, then she blatantly cheated him. That's no reason to have her killed and it sure as hell is no reason to make her a saint. Now if she didn't have an affair, that meant she was probably subject to abuse and she &lt;em&gt;took it&lt;/em&gt; ? Twenty first century gals, you don't have to take it anymore. You can walk out before waiting to get killed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's all that I'm going to say about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*************************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am going to talk about affairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never been married. I dint plan on doing so anytime soon. But there are the hopes just as anyone else. So I can probably understand what someone goes through when those hopes are shattered. I'm not going to rant like I normally do since you or any other reader might have gone through this painful ordeal and I don't want to push this in your face. However I will be brief and to the point as always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wont be dealing with divorce here, because that is something I cant understand yet. For example: couple gets married, couple seperates three months later, cites irreconcilable differences as grounds for divorce. Irreconcilable differences ? Three months later ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See what I mean ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so here you are smack in the middle of an affair. The first question you have to ask yourself is: do you know why ? Why are you satisfied with something outside your marriage? This question takes a lot of soul searching and the answers that come out may not be very pretty but its imperative that you do find an answer to this question coz only then can you move forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now you know. Next question: is the reason feasible ? If you have kids nows the time to think about them and you're going to have to be brutally honest with yourself. Listen to your brain and not your heart. Is your affair feasible enough to move forward. Do you take it to the next level or not ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the answer is yes, then reveal everything to your spouse. This is the hardest I know but believe me this is the best way. You've been cheating on them so far and enough is enough. Let them know. There's going to be long talks, teary nights, heated mornings and thoughtful afternoons. But once you're emotions are out there in the open, that's when you'll know for sure if you still have feelings for each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, live with the decision. You took it, you ended a marriage, so live with it. No time or use for guilt, hurt or what if's. It's over. Move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;************************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, you've just found out that your spouse is having an affair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. Tougher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've either found out by yourself or they've just told you. Either way you are going to have one real real bad emotional hurricane inside you. Anger, grief, self pity, self hate ... you name it, it'll be there. I'd suggest you let the hurricane ride through. Stay away from your spouse at this point of time. It's for the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First question: Why ? Why would they have done it ? Relive your marriage and be your worst critic. Don't go looking for their faults, look for your own. If you're spouse has looked outside the marriage then there was something wrong with it in the first place. You probably haven't kept them happy enough to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But done blame yourself. You can only know that they're unhappy unless they tell you so. But if they have told you so and you're still asking yourself why then you are an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second question: is it feasible ? Not the affair but your marriage. Again, kids to think about. Don't think about how this might look in society because society doesn't give shit about your marriage. This thing is personal and always will be. So ask yourself if your marriage is feasible enough to move on. Either way there's going to be a lot of work to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the answer is yes, talk to your spouse. See if they want to move ahead. If they don't want to ... let go. There's nothing to gain by holding them back. Just let go. If they want to give it another try ... well its going to be that hardest couple of years in your life but that's for another post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally: live with the decision. You took it, you live with it. Move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*************************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I've done justice to this topic. All this is based on things I've seen, experienced and the lot of thought I gave into it. If you think I'm wrong let me know and I'll chew on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until the next rant ... have a happy life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-4239960943698764500?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/4239960943698764500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=4239960943698764500&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4239960943698764500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4239960943698764500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-murders-and-affairs.html' title='Of murders and affairs'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-1571946809888719109</id><published>2008-03-25T14:18:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-25T15:09:42.940+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Of hating oneself</title><content type='html'>Have you ever hated yourself ? I know I have for the past couple of years. As you may know by now I've had three break ups so far and that means three heartbreaks and three instances where I've doubted myself. The last one was pretty damaging to the extent that finding the will to live was pretty hard to find. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know ... you must be thinking: God damn it, not another sorry frickin sap writing about his broken heart and trying to find sympathy. Well no. I don't believe you can find sympathy across the net. That's one good thing about this forest of wires and that's you'll find the most amount of sarcasm and hard hitting in your face advice anywhere in the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, I'm going to take a cue out of that. I'm going to rant about this despicable nature of humans: hating themselves and I'm going to start with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to blame God for all this. You're probably familiar with that too. Anything goes wrong with my life, the first thing I do is turn up to the skies and ask : Why??&lt;br /&gt;Well if God exists and he sat up there in heaven listening to me he'd probably crumple his Starbucks cup and scream back: "ME ?? What are you blaming me for ?? You didn't become an engineer ? DUH !!! Who was the one who didn't attend classes for the two years in pre-grad school ? Three heartbreaks ? DUDE ! Its you !! Nothing wrong with the girls. Its fricking you !! And you have the nerve to blame me ??!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If God was the scary omnipotent some cultures think He (or She) is I'd have been struck by lightning 1200 times by now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I realized this important factor, I guessed I couldn't blame anyone else but myself. And so started the self-hating era. Remember Marvin from The Hitchhikers Guide? Well I was kind of like that. Nobody wants to talk to me. Nobody wants to be friends with me. Nobody wants to love me. Whats the point of it all ? Why not just end it ? Blah blah blahde blah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ewwwwww. I cringe with embarrassment and clench my fists in anger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, first off: thinking about suicide is cowardly. Plain and simple. I believe that the ones who do kill themselves have probably been driven to that ends of insanity to point a gun to their temple and pull the trigger. Thinking about it is a different matter. That means the individual is a plain scaredy cat. He's too scared to live and he's too scared to die. Either do it or don't but before you do remember this: it takes more courage to live than to die. And while we're on this point, no that life threatening disease is not coming your way. So stop hoping for it. The people who suffer from them would probably like to push a few stakes up your a$$ for thinking about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get a life! No, no thats wrong. You already HAVE a life ! A life you messed up!! So get up on your feet and start molding it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember Rumsfield saying that you go to war with what you have and with not what you wish you had ? While I disagree with the timing and the context of that statement it rings true in life. We all have dreams. We all have ambitions. I want to be an Academy Award winning screenplay writer. Thats my ultimate goal. Before when I used to look at the ruins of my life I used to go berserk over the fact that I'd never get to where I want to be. Well guess what, you'll never know until you get there. So if ever you feel that you're not going to get anywhere and will be stuck in this ditch forever then just do the following: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shut the f**k up and start climbing. Either you'll get out or you'll die trying. Both are good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally for those hopeless romantics: LOVE IS NOT EVERYTHING! Oh it sure will seem like it but its not! Out of the six billion in the world one billion probably hates you because of either your ethnicity, your religion, your color, your gender or your sexual preference. Does it really matter ... that things didn't work out with the one person you &lt;em&gt;thought&lt;/em&gt; was your soul mate ? If you've been dumped; take it from me : that's the best time to clean your act. In fact I think that is the best thing that will have happened to you. You will not find a better chance of looking at yourself for what you really are. If you still cant deal with it check my previous &lt;a href="http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-broken-hearted.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think I've missed out on a few crucial points let me know. And please don't bring religion into this. Not that I dislike religions, its just that I believe in humanity more and I want this post to be about humanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-1571946809888719109?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/1571946809888719109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=1571946809888719109&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1571946809888719109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1571946809888719109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-hating-oneself.html' title='Of hating oneself'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-4754273525796588032</id><published>2008-03-21T14:48:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-21T15:43:40.850+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='absolutely nothing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alex'/><title type='text'>Of absolutely nothing</title><content type='html'>First a few updates. If you're listening to music right now thats because I put in a &lt;a href="http://www.playlist.com"&gt;playlist&lt;/a&gt; widget that has some of my favorite tracks. If you dont like the music you're hearing scroll down to the bottom of the page and turn it off. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've begun writing again. Oh right I didn't mention this earlier. I'm a writer ... have been since I was nine years old when I wrote my first story about Tom and Jerry. Over the years I've written lots of short fiction; some of which were published on a writing forum called &lt;a href="http://www.strangeminds.com/"&gt;Strange Minds&lt;/a&gt;. Sadly this site is now under renewal so you wont be able to read my stories. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been grappling with writers block for over a year but this time I have a fully etched story in my mind and hopefully that will get me back on track. I will be posting the stories on my other &lt;a href="http://alexmcone.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt; which is inactive as of now. Also I'm working on a movie blog which will roll out sometime next month. Again, something I didnt mention before is that I'm a scathing film critic. Just ask V and K, they never want to watch a movie with me since I speak my mind quite clearly and loudly. Infact once I was so disgusted with a Bollywood movie that I just stood up and hurled Urdu curses at it. I was promptly thrown out by the ever alert attenders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I've also put in a map widget which tells me where the readers of this blog come from. I have to tell you, its quite surprising when you see hits from places like Fujisawa, Japan and some village in Yemen. Even more surprisingly I had a visitor from Kabul today. If you're the reader from Kabul, may your beautiful country be rebuilt as soon as possible, may you live a long peacefule lives and may those Talib bastards never bother you again. Unless you are one of those Talib bastards which would mean that I'm probably marked for death. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Afghanistan, did you know that they are die hard fans of Bollywood movies? Yeah, they dont like Hollywood so much but the they'll swear by some yesteryear Bollywood bigshots like the Big B and Dharmendra. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and do you who else are huge fans ? Iraqi's. Unbelieveable huh? Its true. When I was in Abu Dhabi I used to see lots of Iraqi's rent Bollywood movies to watch with their families. I really dont get that. Some of the Arabic movies are really good with some exemplary performances but they seem to quite at home reading the Arabic subtitles of an over the top Bollywood flick. Keep in mind that this was during the crazy nineties of the Bollywood era. You remember the nineties dont you, when the actors performed aerobics during the dance sequences ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, well if you're not familiar with that era let me warn you. Do not rent any nineties movie, particularly the early nineties. Now if you're that adamant I'll give you a gist of what every movie would have at that point of time. There would be a hero, his lady love and then the villain. The start of the movie would have some cheesy comedy, a love story, a bit of drama in the middle (tears and dramatic dialogues) and some wham-bam action scenes at the end which would result in the villain's death. Now if it was directed or pened by some sadist you'd probably witness the death of the hero or the lady love too. There. Thats around 5000 movies of the nineties right there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course Bollywood is all different now. The trend is the be different. And they're overdoing it to the point that the "different" stories are now a whole load of crap they expect you to believe. Oh and if they cant find any "different" stories, well they'll just lift it off from other movie industries. At first these sorry saps blatantly copied Hollywood themes, but now since Generation X has got brains in their heads, they're copying other regional movies like Korea and Japan. Yeah right, like we'll never know. Suckers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its Good Friday as well as Holi. So if you're in India you're going to see a lot of people running around with colored powder in their hands, throwing it at each other. Quite a fun sight. You get some color on your face &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; you get to meet some girls. The other way around if you're a girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I've been entertaining thoughts about going back to the UAE. I havent decided yet but one thing that bothers me is the URL of this blog. It wouldnt be "Live from Bangalore" if I were posting from Dubai would it ? I wonder if I can change that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and here are a few really great blogs that I've read over the past few months: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;a href="http://lordlikely.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely&lt;/a&gt;" : Caution: if you dont like crude sexual humor you're not going to like this. On the other hand if you've liked the Flashman Chronicles you're going to love this blog. This guy writes fabulously. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;a href="http://www.fthe.net/blog/"&gt;Fthe.net&lt;/a&gt;" : An inactive blog ranting about technology. Read the post where the author encounters a Nigerian scamster. Absolutely hilarious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;a href="http://www.offendedblogger.com/"&gt;The Offended Blogger&lt;/a&gt;" : Again, offensive humor. So enter at your own discretion. Again a tremendous feat of writing. The author has has me in splits with every post! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;a href="http://www.shelleytherepublican.com/"&gt;Shirley the Republican&lt;/a&gt;" : This is one crazy woman. Extreme left wing conservative. (I think I said that right. Tell me if I'm wrong.) Read her posts, you'll be fuming within the hour. That is of course if you and I have the same mentality. I fumed up the first few times I visited but now I just laugh out loud at her posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I also found a great social networking site for bloggers called &lt;a href="http://www.blogcatalog.com/"&gt;Blog Catalog&lt;/a&gt;. Great place for bloggers to hang out. I spend most of the time on the internet there. Great community, great people and some great blogs. If you havent joined, I'd suggest you do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on the lookout for some nice Indian blogs. If any of you readers know of one or have an Indian blog, let me know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess thats it for now. Until the next post, happy Holi and happy Easter !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-4754273525796588032?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/4754273525796588032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=4754273525796588032&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4754273525796588032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4754273525796588032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-absolutely-nothing.html' title='Of absolutely nothing'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-8909908397954045645</id><published>2008-03-18T15:31:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-18T16:15:35.751+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Of why its not cool to be a guy anymore</title><content type='html'>So we're planning to go to Goa early next month. I'm awfully excited; I've never been there. The beaches are supposed to be heaven and from what I've heard it sounds like the best place to disconnect yourself from the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again, reality always comes crashing down. And it did on Goa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, &lt;a href="http://www.ndtv.com/convergence/ndtv/story.aspx?id=NEWEN20080043552"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; happens. A couple of weeks later; &lt;a href="http://www.ndtv.com/convergence/ndtv/story.aspx?id=NEWEN20080044159"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dang it !! You confounded sexually frustrated MORONS !!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tell you how this is going to affect our plans. Goa is a state that thrives on tourism. Millions of tourists land here every year. When things like this happen on a frequent scale, a lot of tourists are not going to bring themselves or their children here. No tourist driven economy wants that to happen. So what they'll do is beef up their security. BIG TIME. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now along comes a group of guys, in their mid-20's to relax and take time off from everyday pressure. The tourists that come to Goa, especially the families, are going to look at these young boys with a certain amount of suspicion. Well, who can blame them ? One wrong move and we can be arrested. A vacation in paradise could very well be nightmare in hell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't that a bit over the edge, you ask ? Maybe. Maybe not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, these things are pretty frequent in India. And since it happens a lot a girl has every right to be apprehensive of a boy because some of them just cant keep their hands to themselves ! Who takes the fall for it ? The guy who's genuinely nice. Try smiling at a girl: 70 percent guaranteed failure. Try buying her flowers: you'll hear from her father and he's not calling to discuss marriage. Try expressing your feelings: slap on the face. Hell, try the simplest, most harmless gesture: trying to talk to a girl and all you'll be met with is a fearful reproach. A guy with genuine intentions just cant survive! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is why I cannot stand people who go around groping like their lives depended on it. My sympathies to the victims as I can understand the mental anguish (having had such an encounter on a public bus; but that's another story) but these &lt;strong&gt;bastards&lt;/strong&gt; are hurting us too. Its's because of these &lt;strong&gt;nincompoops&lt;/strong&gt; that we now have to be "politically correct" in everything we say to female colleagues in the office. It's because of these &lt;strong&gt;no-brain twits&lt;/strong&gt; that we have no right to a healthy flirt. It's because of these testosterene driven &lt;strong&gt;numbskulls&lt;/strong&gt; that a look interepreted the wrong way can land you a sexual harrasement lawsuit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell you the truth, I've had enough of taking the fall for them. I cant even talk to a girl while they can go around and do as they please. I am so fed up that I dont even want to think about how this may be averted or how they turn out to be so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take them to a shed, line them up against a wall and please, shoot their f***king brains out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-8909908397954045645?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/8909908397954045645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=8909908397954045645&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/8909908397954045645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/8909908397954045645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-why-its-not-cool-to-be-guy-anymore.html' title='Of why its not cool to be a guy anymore'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-8645143849089781751</id><published>2008-03-11T21:15:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-11T21:31:39.217+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='panic attacks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alex'/><title type='text'>Of the worst day ever</title><content type='html'>Oh yes, it sure counted as the worst day in my life so far. I'm not going to tell you the causes but I can say its not any different from some of the life altering events people around the world have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within a span of 24 this issue cropped up from small to resolvable to huge, unbelievably huge and finally utterly irreparable. Of course I watched these events go by with a weary eye but somehow I kept feeling that it would blow over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in the span of two hours it turned horrible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as if on cue everything else started turning bad. Dogs started chasing me. Birds dropped their poop on me. I kept being pushed around in a crowd. Someone crushed my left foot. And to top it all as night began to fall it started to get bitterly cold and I had no jacket. Perfect. Cold on the outside and cold on the inside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that wasn't the worst. The worst was the short term triggered panic attacks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you had them ? They're quite something. You start to sweat. Your chest hurts. Uncontrollable trembling begins. Finger movement - right out the window. You cant sit. You cant stand. Hell you cant walk without almost falling over. All you can do is lie down but that doesn't quite help with the turmoil inside you. Listening to music is not an option, its likely to give you a headache. Suicide, at this point of time, is a welcome thought. And I'm not joking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First time panic attack victims always mistake it for a heart attack. I've had these before so I knew it wasn't that. This is something only the mind can cure. And without outside help it isn't, by far, the easiest thing to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I flip open my cell and dial my sister. Its an international call but who the hell cares ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sis: Whats up ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: You're not busy are you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sis: I'm in the office, but tell me whats up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I'm going to ask you something and I need you to be honest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sis: Yeah, sure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Do you love me ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sis: What sort of a stupid question is that ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I grinned. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her what the issue was and she said yes, of course she loved me but the truth is she cured me with that half-hazard question. I just couldn't stop grinning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe me when your having a panic attack, something funny goes a long way in saving your a$$. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks a lot sis. I love you. The world still seems bleak and dead to me, but with you by my side I'm pretty sure I can weather it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great evening everyone !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-8645143849089781751?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/8645143849089781751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=8645143849089781751&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/8645143849089781751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/8645143849089781751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-worst-day-ever.html' title='Of the worst day ever'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-2848306189596127444</id><published>2008-03-11T13:55:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-11T16:07:40.856+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='V n K'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alex'/><title type='text'>World, we have a problem</title><content type='html'>I am living with the Devil himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't believe me ? See for yourself: &lt;a href="http://www.jaspax.com/antichrist/?vishal%20kc"&gt; Mathematical proof that vishal kc is the Antichrist!&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grrr. I should have known from the day he &lt;a href="http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/of-caps-and-sweethearts.html"&gt;stole my cap&lt;/a&gt;! And on the day he &lt;a href="http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/k-joins-fray-v-changes-his-name-and.html"&gt;changed his name&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But dont you worry. K and I will sort this out. We wont let this foul creature unleash Armageddon upon us. We have our pitchforks ready. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's lynchin time !!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-2848306189596127444?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/2848306189596127444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=2848306189596127444&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/2848306189596127444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/2848306189596127444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/world-we-have-problem.html' title='World, we have a problem'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-3178046431408905672</id><published>2008-03-10T16:44:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-10T17:40:14.774+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Of an office crush</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9Uj6s4v8UI/AAAAAAAAAF0/qjOVpB48FUk/s1600-h/romance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9Uj6s4v8UI/AAAAAAAAAF0/qjOVpB48FUk/s320/romance.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176082838120821058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Disclaimer: The following post may scare the sh*t out of you, especially if you are a girl. The author would like to state that the following events described are semi fictious which is an ingenious way of saying that the good parts are true and the bad scary parts are made up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was beautiful. The others didn't quite like her. Materialistic bastards. All they want is thin tall and skinny legs. I wont deny that she had a few extra pounds here and there. Ok, ok she had extra pounds everywhere. But I like girls with meat on their bones. Oddly thats something a lot of people don't understand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw her (for what she was) for the first time on an ethnic day occasion in our office. She was wearing a red sari which accented her figure (not to mention the few extra pounds) which made her look like some Indian goddess of beauty (read: sex symbol). She was on another team which meant I had to direct my eyes across a clearing of cubicles and chairs to get a glimpse of her. Good thing was our team sat next to the pantry and so she had to pass me by to get a cup of coffee. This is was the best part of the day - a chance to hear the "swish-sway' of her sari as she moves, a whiff of her perfume, the wind of her proximity and my best part - a chance to glance at her over sized posterior which mesmerized me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right. I'm more of an a$$ guy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A female colleague of mine commented on the fact that she was elder than me. Bah, humbug. That doesn't bother me. There were bigger problems. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's married. Happily married if I were to go on account of her orkut profile. Though this did disturb for the 30 seconds after I learned about it, I didn't let it hamper my feelings for her. I was pretty sure I could turn this one. No, that wasn't the problem that bothered me. What bothered me was that she was a manager. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats unchartered territory. A measly associate such as myself with a manager? Gods, it was unheard of! Not to mention the fact that if I were to ever act upon this crush I would most certainly lose my job. My frequent glances at her have been noticed (by her) and I think it was my feverishly frequent visits to her orkut profile that led her to delete it. She had locked her pics a long time ago, but I used to copy and paste her display pics; small as they were; but that was only my way of displaying my affection for her. That's not bad is it ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a good thing she didn't catch me looking at her posterior. That would have been hard to explain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, I was crushed. I couldn't approach her. I would sit at my desk trying to devise plans while my emails cropped up unanswered. I would try to anticipate her every move to my before said plans while my manager screamed at me during escalation plans. She was my everest and I had to climb her. Figuratively &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The entire team knew of my secret crush. Well you cant call it a secret if you tell everyone about it on drunken night in a pub. But those were the male coleagues. They had no right to let the secret onto the female part of the team. Philistines! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what was done had been done. The team decided to help me. During a friday fun activity with truth or dare game well in progress, I was asked to complete a dare. I was dared to go up to her and sing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha! The perfect opportunity. I could sing well, my mummy used to say so herself. In fact she was so impressed she would always ask me to stop so I wouldn't strain my voice. This was it. I agreed to do the dare. Ignoring the snickers behind my back from the team I went ahead with extreme confidence. The few paces to her cubicle seemed to long for me but eventually I got there. I had the chance to smell her perfume again and a chance a good view of her posterior as she swivelled on her chair to look at me. I got down on one knee, spread my arms ala SRK, looked her in the eye and sang: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ooh my little pretty one, pretty one.&lt;br /&gt;When you gonna give me some time, Sharona?&lt;br /&gt;Ooh you make my motor run, my motor run.&lt;br /&gt;Gun it comin' off the line Sharona&lt;br /&gt;Never gonna stop, give it up.&lt;br /&gt;Such a dirty mind. Always get it up for the touch&lt;br /&gt;of the younger kind. My my my i yi woo. M M M My Sharona..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was fired the next day. A restraining order was slapped on me the next week. Apparently she had noticed the admiration to the posterior a long time ago, but it was the singing that was the final straw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, good thing I saved her display pics and the pics she had posted on orkut before she locked them all up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I do miss the posterior.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-3178046431408905672?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/3178046431408905672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=3178046431408905672&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3178046431408905672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3178046431408905672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-office-crush.html' title='Of an office crush'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9Uj6s4v8UI/AAAAAAAAAF0/qjOVpB48FUk/s72-c/romance.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-1611394690575064854</id><published>2008-03-07T18:28:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-07T21:06:41.516+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys n Girls'/><title type='text'>Of the broken hearted</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9FHxc4v8TI/AAAAAAAAAFs/K653J2K4c_w/s1600-h/torn-heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9FHxc4v8TI/AAAAAAAAAFs/K653J2K4c_w/s320/torn-heart.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174996361718788402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've all had it havent we ? At some point or the other we've all been broken hearted. Believe me its pretty serious business. Broken hearted people have done the caziest things like suicide, murder, arson, etc. And its pretty painful too. The gut wrenching pain of a twisted heart is the worst you can ever imagine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how do you mend it ? Easy. You dont. It mends itself. But there are a few things you can do to stop you from going loony and getting yourself hurt. So the below are a couple of do's and dont's for the broken hearted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, before I start - this is for guys. Girls, sorry but I dont know how you handle these situations. I'd be really obliged if you let me know though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, lets begin shall we ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Do drink. Please go ahead. Indulge yourself in the sweet release of alcohol. I'm not going to say no to any broken hearted person who wants to drink. However make sure you drink with your friends and not alone. Do not drive after you drink and do not walk back to your house alone after you drink. You're likely to get mugged or worse still you'd probably think of stepping in front of the first car you see. So, please do drink, but drink safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Do cry. Boys dont cry is what they say. Well f**k that. You have to cry to get those emotions out. Just dont be a sobbing sop though. Get into the bathroom or your bedroom and let it all out for five minutes. Dry yourself up and get back out there. You'll probably be called a pansy for that, but let me tell you something. Holding back your emotions is just stupid. You're going to do yourself more harm than good and I mean physically. Please cry. Its frickin healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Do a hobby. If you've had anything in mind, now's the best time. Collect coins, stamps, animal droppings for all I care but just do something. Try not to be idle as much as you can. Being idle will only make your thoughts go into the grief mode and thats when all the morbid and macabre plans start to materialize. So go ahead, do something. Write a story, a poem or paint something. The best works have always come out during the extremest of emotions. Who knows, you could make a lot of money out of it !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Do go to work. Taking the day off is not going to help. Go to the office, bury yourself neck deep in work until you cant take it anymore. Trust me, you'll never hate the office again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Dont be alone. If you're a person who had no friends other than the woman you loved, by God are you pathetic! Go out with friends, get some male bonding done. Accept the fact that you're never really going to forget her or the love you had ... but you'll have one helluva beach rave party in Goa that'll get you pretty close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Dont go to a prostitute. Major mistake. Not only are you going to lose money, you are also not going to get the passion and intensity you want. Besides with the grief you have inside you, you might not be able to perform and &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; is not going to do your self confidence any good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Do not date. You're vulnerable. If your date shows any sign of care you're very likely to grab on to it and not let go. That's only going to get you dumped again. Dont date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Do forgive. If you're thinking about revenge ... what are you: 15 ? If she's dumped you its for the best. Probably wouldnt have worked out any either way. Trying to find an explanation or trying to get back to her is not going to do you any good. Yeah, burning pictures (read: Jab We Met) are probably cool, and if the girl was one helluva slut who kept playing you on, then letting her have it over the phone is cool too. Otherwise its just not worth it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Dont patch up. Do not go back to her. I gave you crying and poetry and thats about as much as I'll let you. Going back to the girl who dumped you is SAD! Period. She dumped you, you dont need her anymore. Get with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Do go home. If you have a family who understands and respects your emotions - go home, have a chat over coffee. You'll feel much better. If you have a conservative Indian family where love is the ultimate sin - steer clear. You're just likely to get a lot of them dreaded lectures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And remember: you never will forget the ones you love. So dont even try to forget her. When broken hearted, you try to live on. It'll take time, I know but one night six months or maybe even six years later; one night you're going to lie down to sleep and then think to yourself: 'I didnt think about her at all today'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats when you know its all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Edit: Oh I forgot another "do". Laugh. Yep, try to laugh at everything. If you're colleague says the lamest joke you've ever heard then bray like a donkey. Its healthy and gets you in good spirits. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So go ahead, bray ... bray like there's no tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-1611394690575064854?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/1611394690575064854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=1611394690575064854&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1611394690575064854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1611394690575064854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-broken-hearted.html' title='Of the broken hearted'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9FHxc4v8TI/AAAAAAAAAFs/K653J2K4c_w/s72-c/torn-heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-1766966604542104313</id><published>2008-03-06T16:54:00.016+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-06T22:59:47.760+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Of chat rooms</title><content type='html'>Believe me, those things are a world of their own. I've only used yahoo chat rooms and have never tried MSN or IRC (remember those?). Yep, I can still remember the chat rooms and messengers of yester years, the advent of voice chat and cam chat - yes those were the good old days. I remember spending hours and money in internet cafe's chatting away with the world. I made some pretty good friends, learned a lot about virtual people, understood alter-ego's the hard way and learned loads about the internet and computers. I wouldnt be wrong if I were to say that most of the techno jargon I know today was obtained from those forays into the digital society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But enough of tough words and long sentences. We're here to talk about chat rooms. If you've been to one you'll know what I will be talking about. If you havent been to one, be prepared to meet characters whose personality and lineage are intriguing, disturbing and complex than Tolkien's Middle Earth characters. Oh yes, chat rooms are a world of their own. I wont be talking about the language frequently used; I believe enough has been said about those; oh no - this is more of an insight on the various people who inhabit the chat world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we start though, a disclaimer if you will. I've always logged onto Indian chat rooms. I've had brief forays into foreign chat rooms but have almost always never been able to fit in the converstations that take place there. Not to mention the fact that I've been rejected a number of times because I was Indian. Which is ironic considering I've been &lt;a href="http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/of-being-mallu-guy.html"&gt;rejected&lt;/a&gt; countless number of times in Indian chat rooms because I was "mallu." The only place to go at that point of time were Kerala chat rooms where no says a darned thing ! Trust me, its like a ghost town in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ... lets explore shall we ? From my experience into various chat rooms that spanned over seven years, I have come to the conclusion that chat rooms are inhabited by the following classes of people:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Mr.Frustrated:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R8_c_JHKaCI/AAAAAAAAAEs/U5RSSMDM9Oc/s1600-h/sex%2520now2%255B5%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174597474207819810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R8_c_JHKaCI/AAAAAAAAAEs/U5RSSMDM9Oc/s320/sex%2520now2%255B5%255D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please note: almost always male. Penis for a brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people call them perverts. I beg to differ. These sad sorry souls are of three kinds. One: the young teenager who's libido has just "burst" onto the scene and who's probably new to the whole concept of chatting. For these kids the chat room is the ultimate wet fantasy. Sadly though, they're probably not allowed (by their parents) on any of them so whatever time they get to spend on a chat room is full of a mad desperate search for some "sex chat". Cant really blame them, weren't we all once teenagers ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two: The truly sexually frustrated. Age range: 25 to 50. Again almost exclusively male. Most probably will have a very very bad sense of English. You can always identify them with their disjointed meaningless sentences about sexual postures and foreplay. They will almost always not understand your nickname and will be unable to ascertain your sex. Case in point: nickname was grim_and_the_reaper. Mr Frustrated reads it as Greeshma and proceeds to "sex chat". Second case: nickname was Andy Fritz. Mr Frustrated reads: Aunty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three: The dangerously frustrated. They will change their preferences when at the peak of their lust. Compound it with bad English and you have one of the most weirdest conversations ever. Case in point: conversation below. AM is Alex Mcone and F3 is Mr Frustrated # 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F3: care to sex chat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AM: Male here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F3: np&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AM: Sorry. Not gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F3: y u not happy ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AM: I meant I'm not homosexual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F3: me too (I have no idea what he means by that)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F3: i kiss you lips. (BUZZ!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AM: Are you gay ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F3: yes. i very happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AM: Are you homosexual ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F3: no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AM: So you're bisexual ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F3: what you mean ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AM: AAAARGHHHH !!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F3: ahhhhhh, yesssssssssssssss. come in moooood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Alter Ego:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R8_hmpHKaDI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Bxid9qO-Qrs/s1600-h/chat-rooms.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174602550859163698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R8_hmpHKaDI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Bxid9qO-Qrs/s320/chat-rooms.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The picture says it all doesnt it ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again they are of two types. One: The individual who is not happy with his or her current state of life and decides to create a non existent personality of themselves. For example, a guy scared of heights would probably claim he bungee jumps every second saturday and a girl who's not exactly popular will claim she had 33 boyfriends all of whom she slept with and wasnt very impressed. Note: the alter ego is not in the name but in the personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two: An extended version of Mr. Frustrated # 3. They will change their gender in an effort to seduce unsuspecting men, like minded men and lesbians. Of course the latter results in some humorous results like when two men posing as women have "sex" with each other. Believe me, its always happened for I am yet to have met a real lesbian in any chat room. I guess they know about F3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Mr./Ms. Romantic:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9AFm5HKaEI/AAAAAAAAAE8/XmjXh4uC0Gc/s1600-h/_115910_tp_love300.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174642137572730946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9AFm5HKaEI/AAAAAAAAAE8/XmjXh4uC0Gc/s320/_115910_tp_love300.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Don Juan of cyberworld. They come in both genders and are hopelessly (literately) romantic. Some are easily identifiable by their nicknames like "male_seeks_luv" or "18girl4luv" and they come straight to the point while chatting. They also like to load the "Falling Hearts" environment while chatting so they can slap a big wet kiss on your computer screen every time they press Ctrl G.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While they're harmless they're very irritating. They keep spamming the public board with messages that are better off on personal ads like "28 m doctor seeking lady doctor for love and marriage". They also seem to believe in the ultimate commandment of humanity (thou shalt not love by looks) coz they seem to fall in love without even knowing what the person looks like. While encountering the romantic be prepared for extreme love anecdotes that will probably make you cringe. As you all know, internet romance does not have a good track record so most of them will be heart broken one way or the other. So where do they go to mend their hearts ? Yep, you guessed it : the chat rooms! And so, the circle of life is complete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: The romantic does not include those who have chatted with each other for months and then decided that they probably are in love. No, the romantic for those desperate souls who fall in love with you 30 minutes after you say hi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Cam Junkies:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9AKopHKaFI/AAAAAAAAAFE/A5dFYWqBYF0/s1600-h/lenovozoom480.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174647665195640914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9AKopHKaFI/AAAAAAAAAFE/A5dFYWqBYF0/s320/lenovozoom480.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A universal group. They come in all sizes, gender, race and country. Addiction: webcams. They are of three types.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One: The cam seeker. Will not have a webcam but is desperate to see one. Easily identifiable if you a are a girl or have a girly id coz they're the first one's to PM you with a one-word question: cam ? The ultimate aim of thie question ? To see you nude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two: The conservative cam holder. Has a cam. Will not show. Ever. Always female.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three: The liberal cam holder. Exact opposite. Open cam. Will show everyone and usually everything. Almost always male.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Mic Junkies:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9AQ0pHKaGI/AAAAAAAAAFM/I-2i8gjw9_E/s1600-h/ds_headset3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174654468423837794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9AQ0pHKaGI/AAAAAAAAAFM/I-2i8gjw9_E/s320/ds_headset3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Similar to the cam junkie. Addiction: microphones. They are of two types:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One: The conventional artist. Sings either really well or eye wateringly bad. Or will just play a song. Not very irritating; you could always mute him or her if you dont want to listen. They come in both genders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two: The hip hop artist. The expletives of 50 cent and 2pac songs without the music ... or the rest of the lyrics for that matter. Almost exclusively male. And yes, extremely irritating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Fundemantalists:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a rare one. No classifications here because a fundemntalist will always and only be that. Have you ever had someone come up to you preaching and trying to save your soul from the Devil. Well they're up there on the chat rooms too. But since most fundamentalists are averse to the internet and technology there are only a few. The ones who do come in either spew hate speeches about other religions or probably try to convert you with verses from various scriptures. They never PM you which is a relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont know what gender they come in. Usually hard to decipher since they dont PM ... and they're id's are always religious. Which makes them easy to identify.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Adults:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9ApC5HKaHI/AAAAAAAAAFU/lRLfbr0U2wA/s1600-h/friends.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9ApC5HKaHI/AAAAAAAAAFU/lRLfbr0U2wA/s320/friends.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174681101516040306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, dont get me wrong here. Adult does not mean adult themes and neither does it mean an individual over the legal age of 18. Adult in chat rooms are those who come in and do just that. Chat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never annoying or irritating, reading they're conversations is like hanging out with friends. Overtly friendly and they always open to strangers. However if the stranger is one of the above mentioned people, he or she is likely to get blocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Out of towners:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9ApZJHKaII/AAAAAAAAAFc/WlWKNchhUdc/s1600-h/1016502-md.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9ApZJHKaII/AAAAAAAAAFc/WlWKNchhUdc/s320/1016502-md.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174681483768129666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Extremely rare group. The person who has no clue why or how he or she entered the chat room. Will usually sit silent until someone comes up and chats with them, who unfortunately is always Mr. Frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comes in both genders but is usually the occasional Filipino girl who enters Indian chat rooms. You can imagine the chaos when she does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: Another out of towner: The frequent Indian boy in Filipino chat rooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Bots: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9Apo5HKaJI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jgV5sOlQ6kU/s1600-h/bot1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R9Apo5HKaJI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jgV5sOlQ6kU/s320/bot1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174681754351069330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've all heard the Terminator theory. One day, it seems, the computers, machines and robots will take over the world. While it may not happen in the real world it most surely will in the cyber world. Almost every chat room you enter will be filled with these despicable bots that in reality are computer programs devised to fool you into thinking you're chatting with a real person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bots keep getting sophisticated and real with every version of messenger. They're pretty hard to detect unless you find a pattern in their style of chat. The number of bots have increased over the years and every measure Yahoo tries to counter them, they just seem to get smarter and smarter with every move. So yes, the chatrooms of the future will belong to the bots. One day somewhere in the future you will come upon a chat room filled with bots chatting and trying to sell adult site subscriptions to each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beware, the bot rebellion has begun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well thats about it. If you know any other classification I might have missed out do let me know. Until then, happy chatting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-1766966604542104313?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/1766966604542104313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=1766966604542104313&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1766966604542104313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1766966604542104313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-chat-rooms.html' title='Of chat rooms'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R8_c_JHKaCI/AAAAAAAAAEs/U5RSSMDM9Oc/s72-c/sex%2520now2%255B5%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-3016146093014817223</id><published>2008-03-04T21:48:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-04T21:49:49.753+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cricket'/><title type='text'>This is classic</title><content type='html'>This is classic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stoopid to run onto the field, even more stoopid to run into the juggernaut called Andrew Symonds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/URWSoH3HYFc"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/URWSoH3HYFc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-3016146093014817223?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/3016146093014817223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=3016146093014817223&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3016146093014817223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3016146093014817223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/03/this-is-classic.html' title='This is classic'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-4508920271578566075</id><published>2008-02-19T17:39:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-19T18:03:28.740+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alex'/><title type='text'>Of neighbors</title><content type='html'>I have a headache. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have thin walls. Enough said. As I type this, a kid downstairs has been locked in a room which unfortunately seems to have some sort of ventilation connection to the room in which I am currently sitting. The kid is screaming his vocal cords out so hard that he has to cough for five minutes before he resumes. And this has been going on for thirty minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you know why I have a headache. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids will always be kids. I totally get that. But what do you do when the parents are equally bad ... maybe worse ? When we shifted here we got wind of a few complaints lodged with the landlord from the residents. Apparently they didnt like the fact that bachelors were coming in. Sure we drink, we smoke and we come in at ungodly hours; but for the love of all that is beautiful we do NOT create the racket they make. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above-mentioned kid screaming is bad. His mom screaming is worse! That woman has a horrible voice and when she starts to scream she sounds like a crazy hypothermic woman getting laid over and over again. What good is screaming at your kids going to do ? Give him a stern look or punish him or her for something they've done but screaming is not going to help. All its going to do is make the kid think that screaming is the solution to every problem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh but this is just the beginning. The family next door has a couple who are constantly at each other's throat. The sort of language that comes out of these two is unbearable to say the least. And believe me with the sort of language V, K and me use with each other : thats saying something. Not to mention that their fights usually occur at around 7 in the morning. Talk about an effective alarm clock. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people above are almost invisible. I am yet to see them, but I can hear them constantly. They seem to have something to do with coins. Every half hour you'll hear them drop a ton of them. Are they counting it or are they having some sort of wierd sex game with coins; I may never know. But I can assure you ... coins falling on the floor at regular intervals are among the worst sounds you can possibly fathom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it: Kid and crazy mom downstairs; foul mouthed couple to my left and coin creatures up above me. The best neighbors you can ever wish for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where the f**k is Siberia and how do I get there ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-4508920271578566075?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/4508920271578566075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=4508920271578566075&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4508920271578566075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4508920271578566075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/of-neighbors.html' title='Of neighbors'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-3527945837941634298</id><published>2008-02-18T17:23:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-18T18:24:17.461+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alex'/><title type='text'>Of being a mallu guy</title><content type='html'>So here I was lazing around at home online on my yahoo messenger when this girl pops up on IM. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not giving out her name, only that she was 19 and from bangalore. We start to chat and she seems pretty nice and genuinely a girl. After many escapades in the yahoo chat rooms I can tell if the person I'm chatting with is a girl or not after a few words without having to confirm with a cam or a mic. Usually I can confirm from the start if the individual starts with "hai" or "hello dear." For those of you who are new to chatting, those words mean its a guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywayz she was pretty interesting up until the point where she wanted to see me. I switched on the cam, but somehow due to connection problems she was unable to view it. I tried sending her pics but that didnt work out either. I even sent her my pic via email but I kept getting delivery failure messages. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If your first installation of Windows 2000 does not go well, its always a sign that its not going to go well the second or third time." so said my MCP teacher a long time ago. In other words if something was about to go wrong, God gives you all the signs beforehand so you're prepared. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She started to get agitated. Alarm bells rang in my head but I just thought to myself that she's only 19. A teenager at best. Immaturity is something you have to expect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came up with a solution. She could check my orkut account. I usually keep my pics locked but since she was so eager to see me, I thought I could unlock it and let her view. She checks my orkut profile while I wait. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're lean" she types.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I've always thought lean meant tall. But this time I wasnt quite sure. You know how you get that vibe from someone that he or she is dissapointed or irritated ? Well thats what I felt. I dialled V and asked him exactly what lean meant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It means thin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I type that yes, I am lean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dude, I'm looking for someone well built." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that was it. She'd just block me from now on. I mutter "stupid, stupid" to myself under my breath while typing back that it was ok, but it would have been better if she had told me earlier that that was what she was looking for. I would have been honest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She says its ok. Guess a body doesnt mean everything, she says. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So whats your name" she asks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell her my name. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ooooooh .... you're a mallu." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wince. Had she just put me off because I was thin, it wouldnt have mattered. This was something I wasnt very confortable with. I tell her that I hate that word. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But U are one !!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit silent, trying to collect my thoughts and refrain all the French (read: curses) from spewing through my fingers onto the keyboard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A short silence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have a problem with mallus." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha! Like I didnt get that earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I guess this means you dont want to keep in touch from now on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. As simple as that. You are an intelligent mallu." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the final straw. I sprayed everything that I had in my mind onto the conversation window but I never got a reply. She might have blocked me with that one final statement, or she would have blocked me from the first sentence of my outburst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Know what pisses me off ? This almost never happens to Keralite girls. I've talked about this to my female friends from Kerala and I've always been met with blank stares. They cant understand it because they've never experienced it. Kerala girls have no problems talking with guys and girls from other states. But when a Keralite guy tries to talk to someone he is instantly labelled "mallu." Believe its not just the girls but the guys too. I had a colleague who once told me that if he would ever become the President of India, he'd place nukes under the border of Kerala and set them off to tear it away from India. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she said that I was an intelligent mallu, I remembered a scene from Roman Polanski's &lt;em&gt;The Pianist&lt;/em&gt;. Adrien Brody's character, a Jew, tries to get away from an apartment where he's been holed up for months but unfortunately is spotted by a neighbor. As he scrambles down the stairs as fast as he can, she screams with utter contempt and hate: "Catch him ! He's a JEW !!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats how I felt: A Jew in Hitler's Germany. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You think thats stretching it a bit too far ? Check this comment on &lt;a href="http://jerrymannel.com/2006/09/19/the-omnipresent-mallu/"&gt;this blog&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;These mallus are the worst cancer to the world…..&lt;br /&gt;Cant c how they call KERALA as God’s “OWN” country!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;As far as i know they are Blood Sucker and GOONDA’S…&lt;br /&gt;They treat Women like they treat dogs…I think that their mother’s are also like that, So they believe all women are like that….&lt;br /&gt;For the fact KERALA has the Heighest Literacy rate and even heigher AIDS rate….&lt;br /&gt;To HELL with the mallu and to HELL goes KERALA&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry if this offends those who read it. But this is the truth. This is the sort of contempt, we Keralite guys have to endure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I've had enough of my rant and writin about this seems to clear my mind. I think I'll have a beer today and drink to a world without narrow minded idiots.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-3527945837941634298?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/3527945837941634298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=3527945837941634298&amp;isPopup=true' title='35 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3527945837941634298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3527945837941634298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/of-being-mallu-guy.html' title='Of being a mallu guy'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>35</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-3958489430107919561</id><published>2008-02-13T18:22:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-13T18:58:38.582+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='valentines'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Of Valentine's and why I dont like it</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R7LqXJTFoNI/AAAAAAAAACI/V0vDNOR-XH0/s1600-h/antivdayloser300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R7LqXJTFoNI/AAAAAAAAACI/V0vDNOR-XH0/s320/antivdayloser300.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166449405901250770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I just love that pic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentine's day has its own share of problems without me ranting about it. The Saudi's have already banned everything red from their shops and I bet the Shiv Sena are getting ready for their vigilante marches for tomorrow. And every single person wishes this day never existed. Granted, I dont know if I'm single or not right now (wierd huh?) but I disliked it in general even when I was in a relationship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think its cute and I'm all for love, celebration blah-de-blah and thats probably why I dont hate the day. But there are a few things thatI dont like: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Color Codes:&lt;/strong&gt; Ok, let me get this straight. Red means I'm committed, green means I'm not and white means I'm pathetic. Or is it the other way around ? Bottom line : I DONT GET IT! I tried this thingy back in college and I swear upon my ancestor's grave they kept changing the codes every year just to get on my nerves. These days I just wear multicolored T shirts. Its wierd in a cool sort of way and makes all the V day revellers tear their hair out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cards and gifts:&lt;/strong&gt; Oh you got to get this one right. The unique, mushy, tear jerking card that doesnt exist. I dont get that at all. Whats in a card ? Does it renew your love for the year ? Valentine's was supposed to be more about love than a card or a gift. Period. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Will you be my valentine ?"&lt;/strong&gt; Right. Sure. She's been avoiding you for the past three months and you really think she's going to say yes today. Boy, do you live in some creepy fantasy world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The first call:&lt;/strong&gt; I gave you all the love I had to give the last 364 days. DOES IT REALLY MATTER THAT I'M 15 MINS LATE ??? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Teddy Bears:&lt;/strong&gt; They're evil. They're silent. They hatch plots, follow you with your eyes and brainwash your girlfriends by whispering subliminal messages in their ears while they sleep. Boys, beware: the teddy will make you lose your girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Valentines ! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R7LwW5TFoOI/AAAAAAAAACQ/J3_k32LFsKo/s1600-h/IntroTeddy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R7LwW5TFoOI/AAAAAAAAACQ/J3_k32LFsKo/s320/IntroTeddy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166455998676050146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-3958489430107919561?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/3958489430107919561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=3958489430107919561&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3958489430107919561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3958489430107919561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/of-valentines-and-why-i-dont-like-it.html' title='Of Valentine&apos;s and why I dont like it'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R7LqXJTFoNI/AAAAAAAAACI/V0vDNOR-XH0/s72-c/antivdayloser300.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-4785110171626203771</id><published>2008-02-13T10:21:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-13T10:23:54.488+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Song of the Moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Dreams&lt;/em&gt; by &lt;em&gt;Gabrielle&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" style="  background-color: #FFFFFF   ;border-color: #cccccc; color:#FF8000 ; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; padding:0px; border-width:1px; border-style:solid"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;embed quality="high" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" width="200" height="140" src="http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/note_player.swf" flashvars="autoPlay=no&amp;amp;theFile=http://www.esnips.com//nsdoc/6e13d816-b15d-4ea0-9376-15f7090e6e98&amp;amp;theName=007 - Gabrielle - Dreams (1994)&amp;amp;thePlayerURL=http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/mp3WidgetPlayer.swf"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-size:11px" valign="bottom" align="center"&gt;&lt;a style="color: #FF8000" href="http://www.esnips.com/doc/6e13d816-b15d-4ea0-9376-15f7090e6e98/007---Gabrielle---Dreams-(1994)/?widget=flash_player_note"&gt;007 - Gabrielle - ...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-4785110171626203771?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/4785110171626203771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=4785110171626203771&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4785110171626203771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4785110171626203771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/song-of-moment_13.html' title='Song of the Moment'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-1584098361466992731</id><published>2008-02-12T14:39:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-12T16:32:07.536+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Current Affairs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrity'/><title type='text'>Of Ash and the ever increasing idiot media</title><content type='html'>Two days ago I was watching flipping channels on the tele when the red block letters "BREAKING NEWS" caught my eye. It was Star News and the breaking news was footage of Aishwarya flinging what looked like sand or some sort of brown colored powder out her front gate. Apparently this is was some sort of ritual one does when one believes that an evil eye has been cast upon oneself or oneself's family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The channel kept showing the footage at regular intervals between stock footage of Ash and Abhishek. They were even circling the aforementioned powder in red so as the viewer would not miss it. The reporter was talking in an all important investigative reporting style about the various scenarios this particular scene could mean. Who was Ash doing the ritual for ? Upon whom had the evil eye been cast ? Who might have cast it ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember the media frenzy when Britney was thought to be pregnant ? Good God, this has to be wierder than that. At that point of time the big news was that the "Kidney kingpin" had been extradited to Delhi, and they were concerned with an evil eye ? And its not the first time either. I distinctly remember experts analyzing footage of Sanjay Dutt praying in a temple and trying figure out what he was praying for. And Aaj Tak showed Big B, Abhishek and Ash praying in another temple a few days after the marriage. Again the so called experts were trying to figure out if the marriage was happy from the couple's faces. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did Star News and Aaj Tak change from mainstream media to something worse than tabloids ? Is it because they cant find any visually appealing stories ? Or do they think that the Indian public would rather watch celebrities in the every day life than current affairs. Good Lord people, the world is in such a state of distress everywhere and all you have to think about is what Sanjay Dutt is praying ??? If you're an entertainment news channel say so ... dont try to portray yourself as a leading news channel when you report anything but. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scenario: Couple of years in the future. Ash and Abhishek have a child. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breaking news: We have amazing footage of the Bachhan child shitting on thir front lawn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Footage of a chubby kid without diapers walking on the lawn. The kid abruptly stops, his face strained and the material in question drops .... with a red circle around it) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We now turn to our child specialist, Dr. Gupta. Doctor, from this footage can you tell if that healthy poop or not ? Can you also tell what it might have been so we may try to understand what this child has been fed ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Gupta: (clears his throat, hair and tie) Well due to the solid nature and apparent free fall I have to say that it does look healthy. However without an odor analysis I am unable to 100 percent say that it is healthy or what it might have been for that matter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile ... outside the Bachhan compound, the executive producer recieves a message from his boss. He reads the message and barks to his reporter : "We need smell. Jump over that fence, smell that shit and tell me what it smells like .." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reporter proceeds to jump over the fence while thiking to himself: "This is so not worth 20k a month."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-1584098361466992731?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/1584098361466992731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=1584098361466992731&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1584098361466992731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1584098361466992731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/of-ash-and-ever-increasing-idiot-media.html' title='Of Ash and the ever increasing idiot media'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-920266972846034947</id><published>2008-02-08T13:46:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-08T14:27:01.944+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys n Girls'/><title type='text'>Of Boys and Girls - Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Disclaimer: The following post and the subsequent sequels may give readers the wrong assumption that the author is a sexist. The author wishes to make it clear that he is not against any sex and are basing these posts either on experience or reliable and confirmed sources.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy and girl are having a chat on the telephone. There are the usual mooches and cooches, friendly debates and family talk. Just as they are about to hang up ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Oh! Almost forgot. I'm off to watch Cloverfield this Friday with Sunil and Harris. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Really ? This Friday ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Yeah, so I wont be able to meet you Friday evening. I've been waiting for this movie a long long time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Thats ok, we'll meet on Saturday. No issues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Hey, how about if you come along? We havent booked the tickets yet. We can watch the movie together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Naa, thats ok. I dont like monster movies. Besides, its a shaky cam film. Those things make me dizzy. You go ahead. Have fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: All rightey then. I'll call you tomorrow. Love ya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Right back atcha! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awww. Now isnt that cute ? All that good feelings, warmth and love ? Makes you wanna dive into a relationship doesnt it ? Isnt love just grand ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it ? Really ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same characters. Friday evening. Boy's cell rings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Hello ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Hi. (Short pause. Boy's instincts flare up) What are you upto ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Gettin ready. Sunil's comin to pick me up in 5. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Where to ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Alarm bells ring. Boy notices the tone.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: PVR. Cloverfield. Remember ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Oh. (Short pause again) Hmm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: (dreads to ask, but has to ask) What's wrong ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Oh nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: (melts down on to his chair. He has one sock on his feet and the other in his hand.) No really, tell me whats wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: I ... I just thought you wouldnt go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Why would I not want to go ? (air horn blows. worong move!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: (tone noticeably angry) I just thought you'd want to spend time with rather than watch a movie you can see later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Didnt we talk about this ? I thought you had no issues. (boy can almost see the girl dismissing her head as though he's missing the point) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: You're missing the point. You can watch the movie later on. It's not going to go anywhere. Even if you do miss it, you can still watch the DVD. Our time is precious, you wont be able to get &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;our&lt;/span&gt; time back !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: I dont want to watch the movie on DVD. What good is watching a monster on DVD rather than on the big screen ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Tell me something. Am I more important to you than a stupid CGI monster ? Answer me ! Answer me now ! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: (frowns in disbelief) Wha ? Wha ... what are you talking about ? Why are you getting so tensed about this. You know thats not true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Then dont go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: What ?!? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: That's right. Dont go. I want to have dinner with you tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(The boy holds his head in despair. You see, this isnt the first time this has happened.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: I've already booked the tickets. I cant cancel now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: (sarcastically) Booked the tickets huh? Did you perchance think about me while you were booking the tickets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: I asked you if you wanted to come !! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: And I said no. Yes. But you could have asked me again. Or you could have booked an extra ticket for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: But you said no !!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Dont you know me at all ? Dont you think I want to spend time with you ? I can watch any stupid movie if its with you. You should have thought about this. I thought you'd call me and say : look I bought an extra ticket because I cant watch this movie without you. You have any idea how much that would have meant to me ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: But you said no !!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Stop telling me what I said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pause. Girl is fuming. Boy is struggling for words that might defuse the situation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Look, I'll make it up to you. I'll spend my whole weekend with you. Anything you want. Anywhere you want to go. I'm your's for the next two days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: What if I'm not here tomorrow ? What if I have to go someplace urgently ? What if I die tonight ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Oh please, dont start with the dying thingy. You're not going to die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Nothing is certain. Thats why every minute we have together is precious. And you want to spend those minutes watching some stupid movie with your stupid friends !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(As if on cue, Sunil walks into the room. He comments, rather loudly, on the fact that the Boy isnt dressed yet and talking on the phone when they have to leave NOW) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: (furious that Sunil has butted his big fat head in) Ok, your friends have come. I'm not going to stop you. Who am I to stop you ? Go ahead : watch your stupid movie.  But remember this; you're not seeing me again. EVER! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(hangs up. Boy cant believe what just happened) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: F**k man. I think she just broke up with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunil: (mulls it over) Tough, man. You comin or not ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy looks at Sunil for a few seconds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Yeah, sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-920266972846034947?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/920266972846034947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=920266972846034947&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/920266972846034947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/920266972846034947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/of-boys-and-girls-part-1.html' title='Of Boys and Girls - Part 1'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-372256507269575066</id><published>2008-02-08T12:25:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-08T12:31:08.570+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vlad the Impaler'/><title type='text'>"She's my best friend!"</title><content type='html'>From my childhood, I was very keen in mingling with girls. But whenever I approach girls, I don’t know why I am always a loser. By the time I joined college, I made up my mind and decided to blend with them. The start was not bad; I could grab the attention of a dazzling and stunning girl named…better not to mention her name, so let it be Ann. Our acquaintance soon grew into a comradeship. It didn’t take much time for me to have a CRUSH (should be my 16th) on her. But as usual, I was a failure here also. As my Guruji says, “Time and tide waits for no man”. Why didn’t I tell her before he (He is of least importance in this story. So no point in mentioning his name. Moreover I hate doing so..:)) did? Why couldn’t I open up? Once lost is lost for ever. No turning back from now on. I did the same any Tom, Dick and Harry would have done. Conceal the facts and tell everyone that “SHEZ MY BEST FRIEND”.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-372256507269575066?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/372256507269575066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=372256507269575066&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/372256507269575066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/372256507269575066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/shes-my-best-friend.html' title='&quot;She&apos;s my best friend!&quot;'/><author><name>Vlad the Impaler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11705321989020348942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v8ugIbl1II4/TXHuob6XLYI/AAAAAAAABp0/4ki0s98Lt4c/s220/DSC_0210-1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-302563291658884894</id><published>2008-02-06T11:58:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-06T12:02:36.276+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Song of the Moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Halcyon and on and on&lt;/em&gt; by &lt;em&gt;Orbital&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" style="  background-color: #FFFFFF   ;border-color: #cccccc; color:#FF8000 ; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; padding:0px; border-width:1px; border-style:solid"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;embed quality="high" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" width="200" height="140" src="http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/note_player.swf" flashvars="autoPlay=no&amp;amp;theFile=http://www.esnips.com//nsdoc/2f4cdc86-3939-4597-8883-11f4d56e0f3a&amp;amp;theName=Orbital - Halcyon &amp;amp; On &amp;amp; On (Hackers &amp;amp; Mortal Kombat Soundtrack)&amp;amp;thePlayerURL=http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/mp3WidgetPlayer.swf"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-size:11px" valign="bottom" align="center"&gt;&lt;a style="color: #FF8000" href="http://www.esnips.com/doc/2f4cdc86-3939-4597-8883-11f4d56e0f3a/Orbital---Halcyon--On--On-(Hackers--Mortal-Kombat-Soundtrack)/?widget=flash_player_note"&gt;Orbital - Halcyon ...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard this track a long time ago and remembered it when I heard it on the &lt;em&gt;Mean Girls&lt;/em&gt; soundtrack. This easily has to be one of the best techno tracks ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try to think of Dave Bowman saying "its full of stars!" while you're listening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-302563291658884894?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/302563291658884894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=302563291658884894&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/302563291658884894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/302563291658884894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/song-of-moment.html' title='Song of the Moment'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-868214614986460018</id><published>2008-02-05T15:00:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-05T15:02:41.187+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>I'm Mr Burns !</title><content type='html'>I took a quiz on the link below and this is who I turned out to be: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align='center'&gt;&lt;a href='http://www.buddytv.com/closedquiz/closed-quiz.aspx?quiz=41'&gt;Which Character on The Simpsons Are You?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src='http://www.buddytv.com/closedquiz/images/results/simpsons-burns.jpg' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.buddytv.com"&gt;Created by BuddyTV&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, atleast I'll be rich!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-868214614986460018?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/868214614986460018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=868214614986460018&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/868214614986460018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/868214614986460018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/im-mr-burns.html' title='I&apos;m Mr Burns !'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-7953949307461136904</id><published>2008-02-04T11:19:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-04T12:09:55.175+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='V n K'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alex'/><title type='text'>Of Roma and tight dresses</title><content type='html'>Oh Lord, If only I had a picture for this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All right. Let's set this thing up for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its Sunday afternoon and we are doing what we normally do. Nothing but TV. So V has the remote and he keeps surfing through the channels until he settles on Asianet. I'm not exactly sure what was on at the time but at some point the TV told us in frames (that were at times slow motion and fast forward the next second) that the Asianet Film Awards 2008 wes being broadcast at 6 in the evening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, V mused. Wonder if Roma is going to perform. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to cook up a story that no, Roma hadnt been at the ceremony coz ... well umm ... her mom was sick you know ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too late. A slow motion frame of Roma dancing on stage. Curse you Asianet. Curse you to hell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it was fixed. The time slot from 6 to 10 was for the Awards nite. And V waited (quite patienlty, I have to admit) for time to pass. I was ok with it, I had the Simpsons movie to watch and I had already downed three glasses of vodka so I guess anything would have seemed fine to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The awards nite began at 6 and it was fairly good. The performances were ok and there wasnt a lot of boring stuff going on. Still I slept through half of oi and woke up at around 8.30. Had Roma come ? No. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shrugged and went to the bathroom while V clapped his hands at when he heard a few Idea Star Singer names. And so there I was shaking sleep off my system in the bathroom when K shouted out for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K: You gotta see this man. Its Roma !! Get you stinking a$$ here right now !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran to the living room but by then it was too late. Cant blame me, when you gotta go - you gotta go. K was hysterical and V was oddly silent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I miss her ? Naa, shez comin back on but we had a preview says K with a leering smile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit down and hear the details whil I wait for the break to end. It seems Roma is revealing her legs and thighs in the next performance. Not that I'm against legs or thighs; I have nothing against anyone having his right to wear whatever he/she wants. But V's tirade about Roma being a good girl, a nice girl, a decent girl and more importantly a girl who neither I nor K has the right to look at (!!!) was becoming a bit tiring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The break was over and the anchors called out her name. I clapped, K started giggling and V sat with thick silence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was apparent she was wearing stockings. But God was she a mess. A tight dress over a short plump body. Britney shaking her tummy in a bikini was better. This was just gross. I kept commenting on the fact that this girl had no need to wear such a tight dress and all the while my eyes kept going to an ubelieveable bulge on her pelvis. WTF was that ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, she kept prancing and dancing on stage to numbers from Om Shanti Om and when it was finally over K was still giggling and I began my tirade over why that performance was so wrong on so many levels. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V was shattered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry mate - all that glitters aint gold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Roma, you're cute and you're acting is good. Do not and I repeat: do not do this again. Look at yourself in a mirror before you wear some costume some fool gives you. Tight clothes do bring out beauty but to those who look good in it. You in a tight dress is just some teenager's wet dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-7953949307461136904?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/7953949307461136904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=7953949307461136904&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/7953949307461136904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/7953949307461136904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/of-roma-and-tight-dresses.html' title='Of Roma and tight dresses'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-3163528040270667331</id><published>2008-02-04T10:49:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-04T11:17:32.268+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><title type='text'>Of the Simpsons Movie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R6ajDnHWK3I/AAAAAAAAACA/uS6ZFhpn6Do/s1600-h/Simpsons_final_poster.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R6ajDnHWK3I/AAAAAAAAACA/uS6ZFhpn6Do/s320/Simpsons_final_poster.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162993305261583218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been eighteen years in the making but its finally out! I've been a Simpsons fan for a long long time and I rarely miss the episodes they now air on Star World, even if they are repeats. So I really really wanted to go watch the movie when it came out on theatres but since not one of my friends or roomates watch the Simpsons, they just thought it was some childish cartoon or even worse something that just wasnt funny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, as I've said quite a number of times: I'm that kind of guy. The kind of guy who just cant watch a movie by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, back to the movie. I had to laugh out loud when Ralph sang along with the Fox fanfare and when Bart writes "I will not illegally download this movie" on the chalkboard (talk about irony) and I pretty much giggled through the rest of the movie. There are the classic pop culture references (including one cheesy Disney reference), the satirical one liners and well ... there's Homer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I was amazed to see was some really good dramatic scences (check out Marge's tape) and thats something new to the Simpsons. Sure there have been scenes of reconciliation and sorrow in the Simpson series but not quite like this. You can actually feel it in the characters voices and I kinda think that shows the commitment everyone had in making the movie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Animation is the same Simpson self with computer generated backgrounds. Nothing new there. The story is good, but not as good as some of the episodes. That bummed me out a little. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing I didnt like is the lack of secondary characters. Oh they're there all right but they come and go so fast you probably wont even notice. That was'nt good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, overall a good Simpsons treat but not the gigantic movie everyone was expecting. You'll enjoy it if you are a Simpsons fan and you'll probably like it if you're not. And if you dont get American sense of humor, you'll sleep right through it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-3163528040270667331?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/3163528040270667331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=3163528040270667331&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3163528040270667331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3163528040270667331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/of-simpsons-movie.html' title='Of the Simpsons Movie'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R6ajDnHWK3I/AAAAAAAAACA/uS6ZFhpn6Do/s72-c/Simpsons_final_poster.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-8317548225664681136</id><published>2008-02-01T19:52:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-01T20:02:20.435+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Of Facebooks and the sorts</title><content type='html'>I joined Facebook today and couldnt understand a thing. I've been using orkut for more than a year now and I guess I got too familiar with its interface. Ahh who knows ... facebook may yet make a believer of me yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But honestly hasnt this social networking really peaked yet ? If you're on orkut, your friends are on facebook and if you get there then they're on myspace. Its like endless and countless number of these sites and you really dont know which one to go to. I still remember asking an old friend of mine if she was on orkut and she said no, she was on Tagged and that that was the latest fad going on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fad ? I thought this thing was to to connect friends and like minded people; not the latest summer collection. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, who am I to complain ? I started networking with a real nice site called hi5 which by the way looks like a traversty now. I was forced out of it by someone who thought I was trying to hook up ! (If that someone is reading this, you know I'm talking about you) And then I came to blore, signed up on orkut and have resisted every attempt (read: invitation emails) to convert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why now ? :D There's someone on facebook I'm trying to find. Heh heh heh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-8317548225664681136?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/8317548225664681136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=8317548225664681136&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/8317548225664681136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/8317548225664681136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/02/of-facebooks-and-sorts.html' title='Of Facebooks and the sorts'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-120356855461353398</id><published>2008-01-29T08:55:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-29T09:10:08.107+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>Long time no see</title><content type='html'>Was out of town for a couple of days ... nothing new to report, but I'll try to post some pics from Kerala.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-120356855461353398?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/120356855461353398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=120356855461353398&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/120356855461353398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/120356855461353398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/long-time-no-see.html' title='Long time no see'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-664640560252522781</id><published>2008-01-18T19:21:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-18T23:07:08.552+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><title type='text'>Of Om Shanti Om </title><content type='html'>Believe it or not, I just watched &lt;em&gt;Om Shanthi Om&lt;/em&gt;. I know its late but I've been avoiding this highly awaited movie from Farah Khan for a long time now. I hated &lt;em&gt;Main Hoon Na&lt;/em&gt; ... and i hated the way this woman directed. Yep, I'm one of those people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now about &lt;em&gt;Om Shanthi Om&lt;/em&gt;. A few scenes after the interval I realized exactly what this movie was. I checked the internet and found no reference to it ... it seems no one has caught this. So for everyone out there and thinking that the movie is original with its final climactic twist : the movie aint original at all. This is a re-imagining (not a remake) of the 1958 Bimal Roy classic &lt;em&gt;Madhumati&lt;/em&gt; starring Dilip Kumar and Vyjyanthimala. For those of you who dont know about this movie check it up on Wikipedia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ... its this old classic movie in a contemporary setting. Where have I heard that before ? Oh yes, RGV's &lt;em&gt;Aag&lt;/em&gt;. I guess Farah didnt want to take the same chances by announcing that her "magnum opus" was also a remake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywayz as everyone knows by now its a re-incarnation tale set in the high fly 70's of Bollywood with the reincarnated appearing in contemporary Bollywood. So there's a lot of glam and such and critics have called it a "homage" to the old 70's flick. Lets get this straight: its not a homage, it makes plain fun of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the big question. Did I like the movie ? NO !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SRK is fine ... he does what he does best : spread his arms like an eagle for romantic comedy scenes and douse himself in blood for the action scenes. Sure thats corny but he does it well and any other actor would have made a fool of himself. Deepika is not worth all the critical acclaim everyone keeps showering on her, period. Arjn Rampal is pretty good which is saying something. the others are all set pieces remnant of previous SRK movies. The movie is glamorous. I'll give it that but thats all its got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first half is fine ... I seriously liked some of the comic scenes in the beginning ... they really made me laugh. But after that Farah brings in the same mindless comic and drama scenes she did in &lt;em&gt;Main Hoon Na&lt;/em&gt; and this is especially obvious in the second half. And believe me, the second half is just no good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is OSO in short ? Every reincarnation movie you've seen in Bollywood with the &lt;em&gt;Madhumita&lt;/em&gt; storyline sandwiched within Farah's pathetic sense of humor. Watch it if you liked her earlier debacle but if you didnt like MNH you'll find solace knowing that OSO is a lot better than that. Atleast the first half.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-664640560252522781?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/664640560252522781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=664640560252522781&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/664640560252522781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/664640560252522781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/of-om-shanti-om_18.html' title='Of &lt;em&gt;Om Shanti Om &lt;/em&gt;'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-1742244669518635311</id><published>2008-01-18T15:11:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-18T21:29:50.565+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Of Anger and angels who wouldnt care less</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R5CwMfY0_iI/AAAAAAAAAB4/JCldDierasw/s1600-h/PER026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R5CwMfY0_iI/AAAAAAAAAB4/JCldDierasw/s320/PER026.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156815301969772066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you a story. A story that begins with death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben was 51 years old when the car hit him. He died instantly. The crowd picked him up and rushed him to a hospital but there was no miracle to be. Ben was dead. His time was up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he saw himself in the hospital as doctors tried frantically to save him. He wanted to tell them that it was of no use but he couldnt directly speak to him, this he knew. Besides doctors would always be doctors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was no sorrow for a lost life. And somehow deep within him he realized that there was no sorrow for the dead. They accepted their fate and moved on ... to what awaited them. Ben hoped that that would be God. He had a few questions for God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What sort of questions?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He turned and saw a man dressed in a white suite sitting on one of the chairs outside the operating theatre. The man was looking at him, smiling as he reached inside his coat for a cigarette and proceeded to light it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What sort of questions, Ben? You were grumpy, moody and depressing all your life. Its over now, why barrage God with your questions?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shouldn't I know ? Dont I have a right to know where He was all my life ? When I needed Him the most, God turned me down, left me to live an entire life without peace? Shouldn't I know why He gave me a crappy life? "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bullshit," the man said and Ben winced. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A crappy life is one where your parents would have abandoned you in some smelly sewer; a crappy life is where you would have been adopted by beggars who would have used you to scrape out a days meal. The last time I checked you were born to perfectly normal middle class parents. You had a fairly happy childhood. No one tortured you, no one abused you, no one neglected you. You had a good education which prevented you from becoming an illiterate anti-social. You had none of the horror stories I have personally seen. So what crappy life are you talking about ?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben turned back to look at his body. True, his childhood was ok. So when had he started to hate his life ? When ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course. It was ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"During my college years. They were hell for me. He never stood by me. He left me in tatters." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man laughed. "You were in love, and you blame God for that ? You loved a woman who could never have been yours and you neglected your studies. How did you think you were going to graduate ? Was He supposed to write your term papers for you?" And he laughed some more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben closed his eyes. Jennifer. His first love. Memories at this point of time seemed like salt on wounds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How could you have known she was never going to be mine ? And even if she wasnt in my destiny or fate or whatever you call it ... then why did He let me fall for her ? Why did He make me go through that pain ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man shook some ash of his coat. "She was a Mormon. You were a Catholic. Do you really think she would have married you? And to answer you're second question, you knew it would never work. But you were blinded by an impossible love. Deep within you, you knew this to be true. So why? Why did you go on with it ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When you love, you love with your heart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man chuckled sarcastically. "If I had a penny for everytime I heard that lame line I wouldnt have this job of hauling your poor souls to heaven. You should have used your brains, Ben. He gave you a goddamned brain for a goddamned reason!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben turned to look at him. "Are you supposed to swear like this." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course I can. At total idiots like you. So ... college was a disaster because you listened to your heart. Hardly any fault of His. Was that all ? Was that why you think you had a crappy life ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No!" Ben fumed. "No! After college I started my own business with my dad's money. It worked well. In fact it was fantastic! I had it all, everything ! A wife ... money ... a house ... cars ... everything ! And then God took it all. Why ? Why did he have to do that?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Again I ask you. What did He do ? You had your business ... a very successful business, but what did you do after that? Did you think success would be the same if you kept everything as it was after 10 years ? The secret to every business is expansion. Branching out. Did you do that ? Why didnt you ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence. Yes, why didnt he? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was scared." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Scared of what?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Scared I would fail. I thought my success was a fluke. Something out of luck. I didnt want to jinx by wanting more." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man stood and straightened his coat. "So let me get this straight. God gives you success and you thought it was a fluke. You have a failure because of your fear and you blame Him for it. Wow." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben looked down at his feet. Oddly he realizes that he is also wearing white.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What about the rest of the years ? My wife ... her affair ... and finally she left me ... with my children. Why wasn't He there ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man stands beside him. "You were to blame there. When your business failed ... you vented your anger on them. When you had a severe financial crisis, didnt you at least once want her and the kids out of your life ? That formed the basis of all your thoughts in later years. Heck, before you died, in the coffee shop you were thinking the same thing. What did you think she would do ? She stood by you for all those years. Did you appreciate it during the crunch years?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears drop down his cheeks. So the dead do cry. "Why wasnt He with me for the last few years ? Why did He leave me alone ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man moves closer to him and whispers in his ear. "He was always there for you. You just never saw Him." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then he drew back. Stood in the middle of the light that was rapidly filling the room. Ben looked back at his body ... the doctors were finally giving up. With dejected faces, they leave the room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I gave you life as a sandbox. It was upto you to do the right thing. I was always there for you, with you whispering in your ear ... trying to influence you into the right way. The one opposing voice to your ideas was me ... but you chose to ignore it. And when things went wrong you chose to blame me." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's not what I gave you that counts, it's what you do with it." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stepped back into the light, smiled and said: "But that's all in the past now. It's a new beginning from now on and we dont want any grudges do we ?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben smiled back. And stepped into the light. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben, 51 years of age died of a car accident and left without grudges.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-1742244669518635311?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/1742244669518635311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=1742244669518635311&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1742244669518635311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1742244669518635311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/of-anger-and-angels-who-wouldnt-care.html' title='Of Anger and angels who wouldnt care less'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R5CwMfY0_iI/AAAAAAAAAB4/JCldDierasw/s72-c/PER026.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-1667129484144376330</id><published>2008-01-17T17:30:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-17T17:31:40.228+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Song of the moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Halo 3&lt;/em&gt; theme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" style="  background-color: #FFFFFF   ;border-color: #cccccc; color:#FF8000 ; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; padding:0px; border-width:1px; border-style:solid"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;embed quality="high" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" width="200" height="140" src="http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/note_player.swf" flashvars="autoPlay=no&amp;amp;theFile=http://www.esnips.com//nsdoc/426970fc-b8b5-4910-9b74-29a5f836134c&amp;amp;theName=Halo 3&amp;amp;thePlayerURL=http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/mp3WidgetPlayer.swf"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-size:11px" valign="bottom" align="center"&gt;&lt;a style="color: #FF8000" href="http://www.esnips.com/doc/426970fc-b8b5-4910-9b74-29a5f836134c/Halo-3/?widget=flash_player_note"&gt;Halo 3.mp3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-1667129484144376330?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/1667129484144376330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=1667129484144376330&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1667129484144376330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1667129484144376330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/song-of-moment_17.html' title='Song of the moment'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-3129298043947935119</id><published>2008-01-17T16:21:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-17T16:25:06.463+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tennis'/><title type='text'>India shining</title><content type='html'>Well, well, well looks like its a good day for Indian sport in Australia. Not only has the Indian team done well today, Sania Mirza moves into the third round of the Australian open with a nifty comeback in the middle of the match. Read about her perfomance and the scores &lt;a href="http://www.australianopen.com/en_AU/news/match_reports/2008-01-17/200801171200550238250.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-3129298043947935119?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/3129298043947935119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=3129298043947935119&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3129298043947935119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3129298043947935119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/india-shining.html' title='India shining'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-3478651108342013953</id><published>2008-01-17T15:54:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-17T16:12:45.302+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cricket'/><title type='text'>Of Perth and the second day</title><content type='html'>We have spirit. No one can deny that. We sure have spirit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As predicted we were bowled out early in the morning session having added only around 40 runs to the overnight total of 297. We were a tad bit unlucky as Dhoni was given out LBW under very similar circunstances of Tendukar's decision. Pathan went out to a low full toss striking him on the pads plumb in front of middle and the tail just came and went. We lost our last 4 wickets for only three runs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we bowled our heart out. Again I am amazed to see the youngsters brewing with energy and aggression. A few years ago had we been bowled out for such a score we would have let the Aussies take a huge lead of around 350 to 400 and bowled ourselves out giving them an innings victory. But not now. Not in this generation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pathan scalped the first wicket trapping Rogers in front although the ball might have been missing leg. Two balls later though he gets Jaques with some great swing bowling. Now these were two batsmen new to Test cricket and I have to confess; I didnt think the Aussies would crumble after this blow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But crumble they did and how ! Hussey went for his first duck in Test cricket after an amazing outswinger from RP Singh. Ishanth Sharma, the tall long haired pace bowler then took the prize wickets of Ponting and Clarke with some good line, length and bounce. Gilchrist and Symonds tried to recover from the collapse with some quick scoring (both reached their fifties with a strike rate of 100) but after Kumble took Symonds as his 600th victim it was only a matter of time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singh tore through the Aussie tail as well as the dangerous Gilchrist and Kumble took the last wicket putting India comfortably 118 runs ahead at the start of the 2nd Innings with three more days to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK now, predictions. We are in a very good position and the opening Jaffar and Sehwag gave us has put us across with a lead of 170 runs. But we have lost a wicket. Jaffar succumbed to his inexperience by trying to cut Clarke and gifting his wicket to him in the penultimate over of the day. Sehwag looks in good touch and Pathan was very good this morning. So if we can bat through the entire third day ... post a lead of around 350 to 400 ... we can win. Not just have a chance, but actually win. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Aussies wont give up without a fight though. They know we havent done well in the second innings as of late. And they've seen how well we utilized the bounce on this pitch. They'll come out tomorrow, guns blazing, and try to bowl us out within a lead of 300. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third day is decisive. We are in the drivers seat now, but I wont say we're on our way to victory unless the third day is over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-3478651108342013953?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/3478651108342013953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=3478651108342013953&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3478651108342013953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3478651108342013953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/of-perth-and-second-day.html' title='Of Perth and the second day'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-2813972088928317233</id><published>2008-01-16T15:39:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-16T16:00:27.961+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cricket'/><title type='text'>Of Perth and the first day</title><content type='html'>Why oh why did we have to lose wickets in the final hours of the first day. We were cruising so well with Sachin and Dravid. Then why ... why are we looking at the very real possibility of being bowled out early in the morning session of the second day ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sachin was unlucky not to go on for a century. He was adjudged LBW of the bowling of Lee even as the ball hit on the upper knee pad clearly missing the stumps. Problem is with his height its tough to decide leg before's and thats a mistake any umpire could have done. The issue that might arise with this decision is that it was a Pakistani umpire who gave him out. There shouldnt be an uproar over this but with the Sydney debacle still not forgotten who can tell ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dravid. How could he have played a horrible shot like that ? After all the concentration, brilliant timing and hard work he put in for his 93, Dravid fell for Symonds by trying to pull the ball from outside the off stump to mid on. That is not the type of stroke you would have expected from a player with his caliber. Granted, it might have signalled a return to form for him but he got out at a crucial time. Had he continued to score his century India would have been in a much better position than it is in now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dravid's dismissal brought in Dhoni who's always been a bit jittery in tests. And with Lee bowling scorching bouncers its only a matter of time before Dhoni knicks one to Gilchrist or the slips. Laxman looked in good form, timing the ball well but fell to Lee trying to pull a short ball but ended in the hands of mid off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brought Pathan who just looked out of sorts with the bounce of the pitch. He survived the last over of the day from Lee but mind you it wasnt the most comfortable six balls he had faced. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;India are now at 297 for 6 at the end of day one. With the way Sachin and Dravid was going I had expected atleast 350. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bit of trivia: I think its the first time in cricket that the ball hit the stumps but failed to knock off the bails. Batsman at the time was Sehwag and I dont remember who the bowler was. I'll see if I get a video of that ball.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-2813972088928317233?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/2813972088928317233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=2813972088928317233&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/2813972088928317233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/2813972088928317233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/of-perth-and-first-day.html' title='Of Perth and the first day'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-5479213684781042</id><published>2008-01-16T15:25:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-16T15:35:48.451+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><title type='text'>Cloverfield reviews</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Cloverfield&lt;/em&gt; had an advanced screening yesterday and the blogging community has already gone apes out it. According to them J.J. Abrams has created a classic ! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me remind you that this is not a run of the mill monster movie. Nor, so it seems, is this a &lt;em&gt;Blair Witch&lt;/em&gt; ripoff where you only get to see the monster at the end. This is however a movie of five friends and their will to survive the worst nightmare they could ever think of. So dont expect a Micheal Bay or Roland Emmerich movie. I would expect something more on the lines of Spielberg's &lt;em&gt;War of the Worlds&lt;/em&gt; where the entire story was told from the normal everyday man's point of view. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not posting any links to the reviews as some of them have spoilers but I will leave you with a few picz from this much awaited movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R43WAPY0_dI/AAAAAAAAABQ/9SIrsMu-dCU/s1600-h/cloverfield3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R43WAPY0_dI/AAAAAAAAABQ/9SIrsMu-dCU/s320/cloverfield3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156012448028098002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R43Wr_Y0_eI/AAAAAAAAABY/RFFPTAkESI8/s1600-h/cloverfield1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R43Wr_Y0_eI/AAAAAAAAABY/RFFPTAkESI8/s320/cloverfield1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156013199647374818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R43WsPY0_fI/AAAAAAAAABg/1MnGaHxzMXQ/s1600-h/cloverfield-movie_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R43WsPY0_fI/AAAAAAAAABg/1MnGaHxzMXQ/s320/cloverfield-movie_poster.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156013203942342130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-5479213684781042?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/5479213684781042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=5479213684781042&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/5479213684781042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/5479213684781042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/cloverfield-reviews.html' title='Cloverfield reviews'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R43WAPY0_dI/AAAAAAAAABQ/9SIrsMu-dCU/s72-c/cloverfield3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-1146327034385496422</id><published>2008-01-16T11:02:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-16T11:08:43.158+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Song of the moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Missing&lt;/em&gt; by &lt;em&gt;Everything But The Girl&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" style="  background-color: #FFFFFF   ;border-color: #cccccc; color:#FF8000 ; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; padding:0px; border-width:1px; border-style:solid"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;embed quality="high" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" width="200" height="140" src="http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/note_player.swf" flashvars="autoPlay=no&amp;amp;theFile=http://www.esnips.com//nsdoc/d0a48716-444c-43b9-8945-56f38dcb1830&amp;amp;theName=Everything But the girl  - Missing&amp;amp;thePlayerURL=http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/mp3WidgetPlayer.swf"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-size:11px" valign="bottom" align="center"&gt;&lt;a style="color: #FF8000" href="http://www.esnips.com/doc/d0a48716-444c-43b9-8945-56f38dcb1830/Everything-But-the-girl----Missing/?widget=flash_player_note"&gt;Everything But the...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-1146327034385496422?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/1146327034385496422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=1146327034385496422&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1146327034385496422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/1146327034385496422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/song-of-moment_16.html' title='Song of the moment'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-6328096395338590456</id><published>2008-01-16T09:23:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-16T09:36:09.792+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Current Affairs'/><title type='text'>Of cancer, laws and sympathy</title><content type='html'>I was cruising through my reader a few minutes ago and &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/wales/7189137.stm"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; caught my eye. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently a 39 year old cancer struck Ghanian woman was deported back to Ghana after her visa expired. She had already committed an immigrant violation when she started working on a student visa. The woman was taken from the hospital where she was undergoing treatment and accompanied back to Ghana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the debate rages between the doctors and officials that wasnt what surprised me. What surprised me was this quote from a reader in Portsmouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Why should the British public be expected to pay for someone who technically should not be here. The Lancet needs to be reminded that it is the national health service not the international health service."&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really dont know what to say to that. If you are to argue on whether he's right or not that would take ages without result. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But lets not forget thats a human life we're talking about. Shouldn't we show some sympathy ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-6328096395338590456?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/6328096395338590456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=6328096395338590456&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6328096395338590456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6328096395338590456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/of-cancer-laws-and-sympathy.html' title='Of cancer, laws and sympathy'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-4600656949761245535</id><published>2008-01-15T23:53:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-16T00:36:17.489+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Of frogs and fairy tales</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4z8MvY0_cI/AAAAAAAAABI/uv396NbptB4/s1600-h/frog+prince.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4z8MvY0_cI/AAAAAAAAABI/uv396NbptB4/s320/frog+prince.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155772969241607618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time long long ago there a lived a young beautiful and inevitably naive princess. She was a huge fan of the folk tale "The Frog Prince" and always wondered when and where her prince in shining armor wud come to wed her. Countless suitors from far off lands asked for her hand but she didnt want to marry in an ordinary fashion. She wanted adventures, witches, furry talking animals preferably a donkey, a couple of dwarves, magic carpets and wise grandfather trees. Of course at the end of it all the ever elusive Prince with a capital P. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so one day it came to be that while she walked by the royal lake daydreaming epic tales of love a frog hopped out of the water and in front of her. At first she was startled but then recollected her thoughts. A frog ! Jumped out of the lake ! In front of her ! Of course this had to be a cursed handsome prince awaiting her kiss of true love so he may return to his real form. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You as well as I know thats a load of crap. Frogs have a real creepy habit of hopping in front of people to scare them. However, this frog also had a heart. And that small heart nearly had a stroke as it gazed on the immaculate beauty the princess had. Yes, ladies and gentleman ... it was love at first sight. And so the frog waited daily for the princess and when she did come he would hop on to her hand and listen to her whispers and her songs and feel his small heart go at a 100 mph. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, why didnt the princess kiss the frog on sight. Well you see the kiss is supposed to be of true love ... and kissing someone on the first date isnt true love. No, she had to feel affectionate towards him, gaze into his frog eyes and see the light ... all that love crap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month passed by. The frog could not believe the whirlwind in his life. Yet there she was holding him in his hand and her beauty never failed to dazzle him. She on the other hand had decided this was the day, this was the day she would kiss him because she knew she felt true love for him. And so .... taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and brought him closer to her lips. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The frog realized what was about to happen. His heart wrenched. His first kiss from his first love. He closed his eyes too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She opened her eyes. Still a frog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repeat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unwilling to believe that her prince was'nt coming ... she kept kissing ... as for the frog, well I dont think he could contain the elation inside him and so he shouted in joy: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RIBBBITTTT !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was when the magic broke. She saw him for what he was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screaming and crying she dropped him, disgusted. Turned and ran. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The frog may have been in love but he wasnt stupid. He could understand her mood as she dropped him. So he fell to the ground and sat there watching her run away. He would never know why she left him but he knew it was for good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so he sat there watching her run away, a huge tear running down his green cheek and his small heart twisted in pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet he smiled. A sad smile. And said to himself: "Serves me right to believe in this fairy tale ..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-4600656949761245535?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/4600656949761245535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=4600656949761245535&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4600656949761245535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4600656949761245535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/of-frogs-and-fairy-tales.html' title='Of frogs and fairy tales'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4z8MvY0_cI/AAAAAAAAABI/uv396NbptB4/s72-c/frog+prince.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-6277476099479936965</id><published>2008-01-15T18:25:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-15T18:40:49.174+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='V n K'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alex'/><title type='text'>K joins the fray, V changes his name and couple of 'em UFO's</title><content type='html'>Well it looks like K has decided to start blogging. His first post came in today from his office, its down below, but for those of you lazy to scroll : &lt;a href="http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/not-holiday.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V accepted his contributer status a few hours ago but decided being named with a single letter wasnt enough. So he changed it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V will now be called Vlad the Impaler. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I'll still call him V, Vlad if he gets physical)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, cant wait for him to start blogging ... I think he has a few satirical ideas to start with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well looks like a good start for this little project of mine so until my next post ... c ya ! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, CNN reports &lt;a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2008/US/01/14/ufo.sightings.ap/index.html?eref=edition"&gt;fighter jets chasing&lt;/a&gt; UFOs. Crazy huh ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4ywLPY0_bI/AAAAAAAAABA/osYCAbgDMQ4/s1600-h/UFO.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4ywLPY0_bI/AAAAAAAAABA/osYCAbgDMQ4/s320/UFO.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155689380588092850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-6277476099479936965?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/6277476099479936965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=6277476099479936965&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6277476099479936965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/6277476099479936965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/k-joins-fray-v-changes-his-name-and.html' title='K joins the fray, V changes his name and couple of &apos;em UFO&apos;s'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4ywLPY0_bI/AAAAAAAAABA/osYCAbgDMQ4/s72-c/UFO.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-8511624527266431246</id><published>2008-01-15T14:10:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-15T14:16:36.741+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Song of the moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Lonely Soul&lt;/em&gt; from &lt;em&gt;UNKLE feat. Richard Aschroft&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" style="  background-color: #FFFFFF   ;border-color: #cccccc; color:#000 ; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; padding:0px; border-width:1px; border-style:solid"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;embed quality="high" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" width="372" height="169" src="http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/player_dj.swf" flashvars="autoPlay=no&amp;amp;theFile=http://www.esnips.com//nsdoc/a8683f74-c717-4bb9-a2bc-9858feda270c&amp;amp;theName=Unkle - Lonely Soul&amp;amp;thePlayerURL=http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/mp3WidgetPlayer.swf"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-size:11px" valign="bottom" align="center"&gt;&lt;a style="color: #000" href="http://www.esnips.com/doc/a8683f74-c717-4bb9-a2bc-9858feda270c/Unkle---Lonely-Soul/?widget=flash_player_dj_comm"&gt;Unkle - Lonely Sou...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-8511624527266431246?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/8511624527266431246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=8511624527266431246&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/8511624527266431246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/8511624527266431246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/song-of-moment_15.html' title='Song of the moment'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-7467662740774009090</id><published>2008-01-15T12:19:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-15T12:34:17.128+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='V n K'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alex'/><title type='text'>Of caps and sweethearts</title><content type='html'>Ok, so here are the details. I had a cap which was very nice but has been missing for around 3 - 4 months now. I've looked for it high and low but it seems to have dissapeared into thin air. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is until now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While snooping thru V's laptop (which by the way is the one we use to surf the net) I found this discriminating piece of evidence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh ... it all comes back to me now. That last time I saw the cap we were in Bandipur going on a reckless dangerous and stoopid amateur trek thru the jungle. It had started to drizzle and V asked for my cap so he wouldnt wet his head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4xZs_Y0_YI/AAAAAAAAAAg/b0tdkd5HuaY/s1600-h/Untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4xZs_Y0_YI/AAAAAAAAAAg/b0tdkd5HuaY/s320/Untitled.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155594302897061250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the last time I saw it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRRRR. That makes me mad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V - I know you'll read this. And I know you wont give me my cap back so I took it a step further. I took ur sweetheart hostage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4xah_Y0_ZI/AAAAAAAAAAo/LCCSmQBAJF8/s1600-h/RNG_JY4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4xah_Y0_ZI/AAAAAAAAAAo/LCCSmQBAJF8/s320/RNG_JY4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155595213430128018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cap for the girl. Standoff baby !!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-7467662740774009090?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/7467662740774009090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=7467662740774009090&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/7467662740774009090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/7467662740774009090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/of-caps-and-sweethearts.html' title='Of caps and sweethearts'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4xZs_Y0_YI/AAAAAAAAAAg/b0tdkd5HuaY/s72-c/Untitled.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-4419921453393941638</id><published>2008-01-15T11:03:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-15T18:41:17.344+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='K'/><title type='text'>Not a holiday..</title><content type='html'>Uff...my  first blog..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im feeleing sleepy...had a heavy lunch..&lt;br /&gt;In the morning i was trying to install GRUB in  a new server..&lt;br /&gt;The idea still stucks somewher..since i don 've a redhat first CD..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People knows   i don 've a deep knowledge in penguins OS..&lt;br /&gt;Still I've tried..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some body told he shall bring that ROM tomorrow..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok i'll wait for that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But ya know Its not a holiday..im  sure 'ive some sort of work to complete..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was funny to read about Mcone's caps&lt;br /&gt;n Sweet hearts ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-4419921453393941638?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/4419921453393941638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=4419921453393941638&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4419921453393941638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4419921453393941638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/not-holiday.html' title='Not a holiday..'/><author><name>K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14729842773456381784</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-4956548547250463054</id><published>2008-01-15T08:41:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-15T09:12:33.220+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>Its a holiday</title><content type='html'>Hey ... its pongal today. Since I basically come from kerala I dont know a lot about this festival but you can learn more &lt;a href="http://www.pongalfestival.org/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a holiday, and I had planned to sleep through the day before I switched on HBO. There's a corny B rted special effects movie with a hot short red sportbra clad chic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hooked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Pongal!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-4956548547250463054?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/4956548547250463054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=4956548547250463054&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4956548547250463054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/4956548547250463054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/its-holiday.html' title='Its a holiday'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-629128619904159153</id><published>2008-01-14T21:30:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-14T21:32:03.678+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><title type='text'>Cloverfield Clues</title><content type='html'>I've found an interesting &lt;a href="http://cloverfieldclues.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt; that's everything Cloverfield. Beware though... spoilers abound!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-629128619904159153?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/629128619904159153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=629128619904159153&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/629128619904159153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/629128619904159153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/cloverfield-clues.html' title='Cloverfield Clues'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-3788154500169539055</id><published>2008-01-14T20:30:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-14T20:36:03.270+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Old is Gold</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Mere Mehboob&lt;/em&gt; from &lt;em&gt;Mr X in Bombay&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" style="  background-color: #FFFFFF   ;border-color: #cccccc; color:#000 ; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; padding:0px; border-width:1px; border-style:solid"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;embed quality="high" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" width="372" height="169" src="http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/player_dj.swf" flashvars="autoPlay=no&amp;amp;theFile=http://www.esnips.com//nsdoc/6eef8fe2-4551-4f42-a068-5f148554722c&amp;amp;theName=Mere Mehboob Qayamat Hogi&amp;amp;thePlayerURL=http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/mp3WidgetPlayer.swf"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-size:11px" valign="bottom" align="center"&gt;&lt;a style="color: #000" href="http://www.esnips.com/doc/6eef8fe2-4551-4f42-a068-5f148554722c/Mere-Mehboob-Qayamat-Hogi/?widget=flash_player_dj_comm"&gt;Mere Mehboob Qayam...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-3788154500169539055?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/3788154500169539055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=3788154500169539055&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3788154500169539055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/3788154500169539055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/old-is-gold.html' title='Old is Gold'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-512002335583232343</id><published>2008-01-14T19:08:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-14T19:25:44.813+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mid East'/><title type='text'>Blogs I've read</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://muttawa.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Religious Policeman&lt;/a&gt; is the blog that ignited my interest in the whole phenomenon. It was created and maintained by a Saudi man who now resides in the UK (or so it may seem to be). The blog's name is the translation of the much feared "muttawa" in Saudi Arabia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might have heard of the Saudi intolerance and medieval style of living, but this blog gives you a first hand account of the day to day life of ordinary Saudi's who are torn between living in a extremely restricted society yet at the same time having western culture infused within them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saudi bloggers criticize their government at an extreme risk. Freedom of speech is virtually non existent in the Middle East and bloggers usually use pseudo names in an effort to protect their identity. However one blogger dared to reveal his name and shared his views of freedom and his unflattering stand on the government. The bloggers name is Fouad al Farhan who was detained by Saudi authorities on December 1oth 2007 and remains to this day under arrest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe name="FouadRandomizer" src="http://alfarhan.org/fouadphrases/fouad_phrase.php" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" height="200" width="150"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who would like to know more about Fouad, you can access his &lt;a href="http://en.freefouad.com/"&gt;support site&lt;/a&gt; here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywayz, back to the Religious Policeman. The Saudi gentleman does not maintain the blog anymore as in his own words, they no longer trouble him for the moment. Give this blog a glance, you're bound to be intrigued.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-512002335583232343?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/512002335583232343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=512002335583232343&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/512002335583232343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/512002335583232343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/blogs-ive-read.html' title='Blogs I&apos;ve read'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-529975254160160920</id><published>2008-01-14T17:05:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-14T17:48:54.117+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Song of the moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Mann Bawra&lt;/em&gt; from &lt;em&gt;Pyaar Ke Side Effects&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" bgcolor="#000000"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;embed pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" src="http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/esnips_player.swf" width="328" height="94" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" bgcolor="#000" flashvars="theTheme=blue&amp;amp;autoPlay=no&amp;amp;theFile=http://www.esnips.com//nsdoc/fb5cfb20-9664-4b6c-ab8b-61787b78aca7&amp;amp;theName=Mann Bawra&amp;amp;thePlayerURL=http://res0.esnips.com/escentral/images/widgets/flash/mp3WidgetPlayer.swf"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table style="PADDING-LEFT: 2px; FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-SIZE: 10px; COLOR: #ffffff; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; TEXT-DECORATION: none" cellpadding="2"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="COLOR: #ffffff; TEXT-DECORATION: none" href="http://www.esnips.com/CreateWidgetAction.ns?type=0&amp;amp;objectid=fb5cfb20-9664-4b6c-ab8b-61787b78aca7"&gt;Get this widget &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal; FONT-SIZE: 7px"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="middle"&gt;&lt;a style="COLOR: #ffffff; TEXT-DECORATION: none" href="http://www.esnips.com/doc/fb5cfb20-9664-4b6c-ab8b-61787b78aca7/Mann-Bawra/?widget=flash_player_esnips_blue" align="center"&gt;Track details &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal; FONT-SIZE: 7px"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="COLOR: #ff6600; TEXT-DECORATION: none" href="http://www.esnips.com//adserver/?action=visit&amp;amp;cid=player_dna&amp;amp;url=/socialdna" align="center"&gt;eSnips Social DNA &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-529975254160160920?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/529975254160160920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=529975254160160920&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/529975254160160920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/529975254160160920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/song-of-moment.html' title='Song of the moment'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-2883176519831756236</id><published>2008-01-14T15:41:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-14T17:49:32.258+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><title type='text'>Cloverfield</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4s3hfY0_XI/AAAAAAAAAAY/V6bH1RRyiUY/s1600-h/cloverfield-poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155275246956510578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4s3hfY0_XI/AAAAAAAAAAY/V6bH1RRyiUY/s320/cloverfield-poster.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cloverfield&lt;/em&gt; is a PG-13 rated monster movie from J.J Abrams (&lt;em&gt;Lost&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;Alias&lt;/em&gt;) and directed by Matt Reeves releasing world wide on Jan 18th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Hollywood really has produced one of the most memorable monster movies of all time in &lt;em&gt;King Kong&lt;/em&gt; (1933) it hasnt quite held its own with the cheesy low budget but memorable &lt;em&gt;Godzilla&lt;/em&gt; movies from Japan. Granted you could argue that &lt;em&gt;Jurassic Park&lt;/em&gt; was a monster movie, but we all know what everyone means by the genre. A monster comes out (usually from under the sea) and then wrecks havoc on a huge metropolis knocking down skyscrapers with its elbow. The last time this was seen in Hollywood was with Roland Emmerich's Godzilla which to me resembled a video game more than a movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So whats special about &lt;em&gt;Cloverfield&lt;/em&gt; ? Well for one, its produced by J.J Abrams who brought us &lt;em&gt;Lost&lt;/em&gt;. Two, it has an extremely well defined marketing strategy. The monster has been kept in the shadows and no one really knows what destroys New York. Third, it's the story. Five friends with a digital camera try to survive the colossal onslaught. Blair Witch meets Godzilla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trailer was released (curiously) without a name during the &lt;em&gt;Transformers&lt;/em&gt; screening. It, along with an exclusive clip has already generated buzz and speculation among movie bloggers and critics. The severed head of the Statue of Liberty has by now become an almost iconic moment in the trailer thus making Cloverfield one of the most highly anticipated movies of 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although it releases on the 18th, I'm not sure if Bangalore will get a glimpse of this monster at the same time. But I'm gonna watch this movie come rain or hail and review it right here. Oh did I mention that before ? I'm a fierce movie critic. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out the movie website &lt;a href="http://www.cloverfieldmovie.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; where you'll also be able to watch an HD version of this now famous trailer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep posting every new update I get to hear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-2883176519831756236?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/2883176519831756236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=2883176519831756236&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/2883176519831756236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/2883176519831756236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/cloverfield.html' title='Cloverfield'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_a_oor1PQq8Q/R4s3hfY0_XI/AAAAAAAAAAY/V6bH1RRyiUY/s72-c/cloverfield-poster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862813870867628251.post-998030745003164594</id><published>2008-01-14T13:59:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-14T17:50:13.770+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>One New Year's Day ...</title><content type='html'>Everyone had their resolutions. V resolved not to drink anything other than wine, K resolved to quit hardcore drinking and I resolved to quit smoking. At the same time everyone had their passions too, V found drums, K discovered violins ... I had nothing yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks later I find blogs. Not that I've never known them before, I have another &lt;a href="http://alexmcone.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt; but that went inactive ever since I've had writer's block. But this time I wanted something else. This time I decided to write down every rant, rave, belief and opinion I will form about anything I may see, hear or read about. Even if it wont amount to some extreme social commentary I can atleast keep this as a memoir to look back on when I may have nothing to do in the future to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a the idea. Romantic and all ... but hey, every idea is like a matchstick. It burns ferociously at first, stables itself and then dies out. So in a burst of excitement at finding something that I may actually like I started out on this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats when the other idea came up. Why not make it a three person blog. Bring V and K into it. The idea has been passed at them, and I'm not sure if they feel the same way about this new venture, but it would be a blast. Me, with my socio-political views, V with his dissillusionment of life views and K with his romantic dreamy eyed views. Hell; would be quite a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats the final idea that I have. My passion for the new year. They might stand by this or they might not ... but they will be featured in most of my entries coz I'm going to try real hard not to let this one die....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....This is Alex Mcone with V and K, reporting ... live from Bangalore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;... Alex Mcone with V &amp; K reporting ... live from Bangalore&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862813870867628251-998030745003164594?l=livefrombangalore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/feeds/998030745003164594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862813870867628251&amp;postID=998030745003164594&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/998030745003164594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862813870867628251/posts/default/998030745003164594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/2008/01/one-new-years-day.html' title='One New Year&apos;s Day ...'/><author><name>Alex Mcone</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16622099039379181335</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
