Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Geeks, nerds and... some normal people

I am a geek, I have been reminded more than once. All engineers are, apparently. Even former ones.

Yes. I do the geeky talk once in a while, the theoretical geeky talk that is. Like theoretical computer science as against information technology. If you have lost me already, you should stop right here and head out to celebrate with some wine. You are NOT a geek.

To elucidate, just in case you are still around, I am a theoretical geek who can think algorithms, talk shortest paths and mull over integration to infinity at the best. I can appreciate geeky shows and plays, laugh over geeky jokes, and stand some geeky talk as long as it makes me a little intelligible on Nokia E5s, Blackberrys, Kindles, Nooks… whew! However, the minute someone gets into nerdy bits about software, middleware, upperware and some such, they have at best lost a friend, if not an acquaintance, for life.

I digress today, significantly from what I really wanted to write about. Which is about the latest Samsung Galaxy advertisement*.

There is nothing wrong with the advertisement itself. Well, almost. If only I were that gadget freak I would never be, I might be writing this post from there. The ad is that tempting.

Nevertheless, whether or not I acquire a Galaxy or an iPad (tech geeks would find that debatable, but I have a thing for the Apple brand), I would ensure that I never date a pest like the one shown in that ad.

No, really. Who wants to hang out with a guy who will photograph my handbag and web search the brand. How embarrassing for me if I were carrying a cheap replica of a Hidesign or a Chase (I am told they are dime a dozen on the lanes of Dharavi). And, who wants to go around with a tiresome bore who figures out how many calories I have burnt at the end of a dance. I have enough trouble avoiding the ugly truth from weighing machines. And, why on Earth would I be impressed with this smart-ass if it is not his own GK but Google that helps him figure out what song is playing on the disc.

In fact, I did not mean to crib about the ad. It is just an illustration to give a piece of advice to my male friends and acquaintances – geeks, nerds, normal – all of you.

Buy your androids. Give even a demo to your girlfriends. Women like “geekiness” in men, to some extent at least. Be geeky, crack some puzzles. We might actually be impressed. But, for heaven’s sake, don’t ever use your gadgets to tell us how many inches we should lose in order to fit into the latest Ritu Kumar creation on the display window.

* - I searched on YouTube for the advertisement with little success. If someone finds it, please provide the link as a comment. Thanks.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

When God came visiting

It was a sleepy Friday afternoon. The sun was hard in giving audience to his subjects, starting signs of a Delhi winter.

Aromas of South India wafted from the kitchen while she pinched moments in between to catch updates on the television. Somewhere in the middle, she realized that she was not alone in the drawing room. There was a faint shadow across the television. She turned back in trepidation, only to encounter Him, sitting there patiently right at the balcony door, staring at her intently. She was dumb struck for a second but quickly collected her wits about her. Not knowing what to do, she quietly opened the main door and walked out, latching the grilled door behind her. He sat there wondering why she was behaving so strangely while she, along with the neighbors who had collected there by then, stared back at Him incredulously. He looked around for a few minutes, by this time bored with the not-so-happening drawing room and its memsahib, who seemed not to want to spend time with Him.

She realized by then that He must have been attracted to the balcony because of the smell from the kitchen. He walked, sure-footed, towards his destination. He stood at the kitchen door, with arms stretched up, like He was about to practice ‘Yogasana’ and inspected the dishes with a critical eye. He turned back, perhaps in disdain, and opened the refrigerator. As the spectators on the other side of the door wondered what He might loot from inside, He picked up a packet of flattened rice and quietly walked out through the balcony.

She has been convinced ever since that it was a sign from God asking her to visit her usual Hanuman temple. Though He has visited countless other apartments ever since that day, she prides on the fact that He has never ever gone up so many floors ever to visit anyone and pick up, of all things on Earth, flattened rice which is a favorite offering to God, apparently.

The only question I had for her was this – Did He close the door of the refrigerator before walking out?