Ruminations of a meandering mind

I met an acquaintance of mine recently, who had slogged his way through his MS and PhD and landed up with a great job in the US and was in home town on vacation. I was seeing him after 4 years. During our conversation, he remarked suddenly "Its amazing that we have kept in regular touch, havent we?". I nodded and said "Ya your forwards were just amazing". He did not get the sarcasm.
The fact that the only way we were in touch( rather the way he mailed me) was through forwards was lost on my friend. He used to send me forwards by the dozen everyday, some really interesting, most were really mundane and dumb and to shift-del the mail was the only option. However the funny thing was he never used to tell me how he was doing and what was happening to him miles away. I used to reply to some of the forwards and query about his studies and life there. He would respond the next day with more forwards.Fortunately I knew his parents and they kept me updated on the happenings.
There were many other contacts of mine who seem to have taken after him. They just seem incapable of typing a single mail. I wonder if they even forward the mails after reading them once. They probably forward it to all in their address book( the person who send the mail in all probability would receive the same since he/she is a part of the address book, thats ok, since he/she would not have read it in the first place before sending them and he/she then resends it to all in their address book and this cycle continues till eternity). Thank goodness all the mail service providers have increased the size of the mail box ;).
E-mail is definitely the easiest way to keep in touch. What's also interesting is that forwarding e-mails is an even easier way. I wonder what would happen in case you need to invite some one for a marriage or any other occasion. Would you type your mails then or would they be a part of some other invitation which could duly be sent to others when the time comes, but then please make sure to atleast attach the correct invite :).

"If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways, I keep and pass and turn again"-Ralph Waldo Emerson.
What if your worst enemy had a tryst with death? Would it be a cause for celebration? For the past few days , the newspapers here have been littered with the news of the killing of somebody( a Mr 'X') who had eluded the law makers for a better part of two decades. Even though the eventual triumph of these law makers in succeeding on this mission needs to be lauded, the fact that there have been smiles on everyones face just because this Mr 'X' has perished is something that surprises me. I mean should we really celebrate a fellow being's death? Its something to ponder over. I was glad when I realized that I wasnt the only one having such thoughts. In the editorials of one news paper there was one letter whose contents( not verbatim) stated "Should we celebrate death even if the person in question is one of the most sought after criminals today?".

Correct me if iam wrong, but the word "Prepone" does not exist. Its merely a concocted opposite of postpone. This was brought to light by a friend of mine recently but I continue to use this word frequently. I have seen it being used( quite judiciously of course) in formal meetings,emails etc without( or with) people having an inkling about the authenticity of the word. But then, probably this is one among many such words. Also, does it really matter whether the words that we use everyday need to be listed in the dictionary. I dont think so. As long as the people you are communicating with know what you mean when you speak or from whats written in your mail, I guess there's no issue at all.

Brighton Rock is among Graham Greene's best works. 30 pages into the book, you wonder what makes this novel so special, then as you read on, the characters grow on you. Perhaps the book's most surprising factor is that it rides on a wafer thin plot and the story looks dated in parts( thanks to the umpteen number of writers who have attempted this genre in recent times). To compensate for the plot, the novel has characters that are brilliantly etched. The lead character Pinkie is depicted as a person without any feelings of remorse, but such is the writer's brilliance that he evokes in the reader a feeling of empathy towards Pinkie. Without resorting to profanity of any sort Greene spins a compelling yarn and I still maintain after reading this work that Greene can never write a bad book. A critic on reading this work remarked " Entertaining he always is but Comforting never".

We talk of timing in sport. In cricket, having a good timing is sheer brilliance. Its a gift. In my office, the cubicles are arranged to house four people and each of us have our own telephones( we humans have never shown any affinity to share anything anyways), so I just wondered how it would be if all our phones start and end ringing at precisely the same moment( i mean if it has to end at the same time it would mean each of the occupants of the cubicle should lift the phones at the same time). That would be timing at its best that no sport would match. There would eight good timers here :-). The first four probably sat at different corners of the world and decided that it was as good a time as any to ring the inhabitants of the cubicle in the first place and four of the insipid( brought to life) creatures would spring into action and lift the insipid telephones and say "Hello". After our individual calls, we go about our work as usual of course, since the timing was so perfect that none of us heard the other phones ringing because the rings sounded as if it orginated from your own phones. Now we have twelve good timers here( 4 new lifeless additions to the art of good timing) :-)

Pretty soon it looks like I will need to use a helmet inside my bus too( the bus that takes me to office). This is not for any fear of an impending accident. Its just that I am unable to assess the height of the baggage racks( Iam talking of the narrow opening running parallel to the roof of the bus where things can be put-is there a better word for this?) and my head( attached to the rest of my body of course) constantly feels that it needs to find out how strong this rack is. So at that precise instant of gettting into my seat and getting out of it, I make and break contact with this rack with a force that is not very pleasant( to me). Its almost as if I have no control over my head at this precise juncture. The consequences of these rather forceful impacts are felt at many points of the day( like it makes me wince suddenly when Iam in a meeting and my colleagues look at me strangely).
Luckily for me, I dont take the same bus back home so I reach home in peace :-)

Suddenly iam thinking tennis( no idea why, is it because I saw cows feeding on grass sometime back and my seemingly innocuous thoughts locked onto Lendl and then not so innocently meandered onto Federer:-))and this thought just comes out of the blue.It gives me a jolt. I mean what would have happened if Federer had arrived in a different era- say sometime in the mid eighties and continued playing the way he is playing today. How many grand slams or any miniscule tournament for that matter,would the prominent tennis players( not in any order) of Sampras, Agassi,Edberg,Becker( I cant think about Boris not winning any since he is my favorite),Courier have won. Its just a thought and i cant help but feel why did i waste 20 minutes( thinking + typing this piece) of my time on this hypothetical situation. No changing history is there?

This quintessential shocker is chilling and brilliant. Had a chance to catch this film on TV yesterday and the pace never let up. Amazing performances from an ensemble cast makes this a must see.