SAST Wingees

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FTOTW – Augmented Reality, Last Post, Connect Co, Share Economy, Design..

Fine Tastings Of The Week – Here are the best links of last week from my tweet stream.

1. RT @drmcewan @dpontefract: Augmented reality goes beyond gimmicks – http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-13262407 ~ vv cool

2. http://bit.ly/ihD8yz last post of a veteran blogger who died of cancer ~ vv sad /via @waxpancake

3. RT @davegray: New post on the connected company: Give pods a chance http://connectedco.com/?p=89 #connectedco ~ vv insightful

4. RT @davegray: ‘Why Instapaper Free is taking an extended vacation’ – Marco.org http://on.news.me/mEHMi5 via @jansn ~ vv insightful

5. /Via @dorait @fastcompany up next social consumption aka share economy http://ow.ly/4HbyE ~ vv interesting

6. RT @Digitaltonto @hypergogue: The best advice I’ve ever been given about graphic design http://bit.ly/fBDHzO Excellent. ~ vv insightful

References

I use a certain ratings scale for my annotations which are explained here.

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FTOTW – Virtual Choir,Beehackers,French Fries,Science & Belief…

Fine tastings of the week – best links from my tweet stream last week.

1. /via @jigardoshi unfavorable ruling? Check when the judge ate lasthttp://t.co/0lel2WS ~ vv interesting

2. RT @BrainfitWorld @PsychToday: Do we nod yes when we enjoy something—or do we enjoy it because we nod? http://ow.ly/1cjCxm~ vv interesting

3. RT @Digitaltonto The Science of Why We Don’t Believe in Science – excellent read from @MotherJones http://rdd.me/um2vnndh ~ vv insightful

4. http://bit.ly/euTu9M eric whitacre’s virtual choir TED Talk ~ brilliant /via @aarthi_srinath

5. RT @IEEESpectrum: Beehackers http://bit.ly/gBsmW9 ~ vv interesting

6. /via @amprasad staggering carbon footprint of french frieshttp://flpbd.it/oAp8 ~ vv interesting. One more reason to skip fries.

7. RT @priyaraju @TheEconomist In some instances, for the poor, television is more important than food http://econ.st/gIy3eE ~ vv interesting. [i guess the DMK does know something about people 🙂 ]

References

I use a certain ratings scale for my annotations which are explained here.

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2nd Innings – Part 2

“Sir, Sir”, sang a dulcet voice. Kumari wiped her hands in her sari and hurried to the front door. A doe-eyed, tall, lissome girl was waiting on the threshold. “Yes, what do you need?”, Kumari asked the radiant vision in a neatly pressed Salwar suit. The girl superbly ignored her, her restless eyes darting hither and thither. “Sir, Muthu Sir”, tittered the girl again.

Kumari felt gauche. Good-looking young women always made her feel inadequate. This one even had perfectly manicured hands. While she had a crumpled cotton sari on and a dosa batter streaked face. Perhaps she thinks I’m the domestic help, thought Kumari and winced. Hell, I look like one.

“If you are looking for Muthu, he just stepped outside”, she explained. As if not believing her, the girl’s eyes bored through the walls, attempting to look through the concrete.

Just then, Muthu entered and did a double take. “Oh, Nalini! What a pleasant surprise. Come in, Come in”, he breezed expansively. “Sir, I just wanted to tell you that the rice sacks have arrived”, said Nalini. “That’s good, that’s good”, beamed Muthu. “You must have a cup of coffee with me before leaving!”. The girl looked a little surprised. “Because, er, you’ve done a superb job”, he added lamely.

Benevolence is always on tap when pretty girls are involved, thought Kumari wryly. She wondered if Nalini was batting her voluminous eyelashes excessively, but she wasn’t sure. Maybe I’m imagining it, she thought. I’m becoming insecure and that makes me feel so – helpless. “One or two cubes of sugar?”, she asked the girl in a squeaky voice. Damn, I should try to be more natural, poised, at ease. The girl looked at her askance and signaled 2.

Muthu was in high spirits for the rest of the day. “Isn’t the world beautiful today, Kumari?” he asked. Kumari wondered if the day’s beauty had anything to do with Nalini. “About the girl”, she said. “Nalini? What about her?” stammered Muthu. “ I saw you giving her the eye”. Muthu blushed a deep red. “Don’t talk nonsense, Kumari”, he said.

Kumari looked at him with interest. So, it was that bad. She exhaled deeply. Nalini was almost half her age. I could be her mother, thought Kumari. Its only natural that he’s attracted to her, she told herself. After all, he’s only 20. And I’m 32.

* * * * *

“What is this, Kumari?” yelled Muthu. “This fish curry is inedible!” – he threw the plate towards her. Kumari shivered and picked up the plate. All these months with Muthu and she was still getting used to his temper tantrums. She tasted the curry – it was bland, tasteless. “I forgot to add salt”, she mumbled.

“Pay some attention to what you do, will you?”, he said in a low voice, seething. His face looked transformed, ugly. Kumari closed her eyes. “Will you please stop shouting?” she said. “Chettiar never threw things at me”, the words slipped out of her. “Oh!” said Muthu. “I had forgotten that you have a point of reference! In what other ways was he better than me?”

Kumari’s face burned in shame. A lone tear streaked down her cheeks. Immediately, Muthu was contrite. “I’m so sorry darling, I shouldn’t have said that,” he moaned. “You’re my one true love”. There’s no true love, thought Kumari. You just pick the best from what’s available. Its funny he doesn’t know that, she thought. After all, he’s only 20 and I’m 32.

“Why don’t you sit down?” she said aloud, managing a smile. “I’ll make you some dosas quickly”. “No, I’m taking my queen today to a restaurant. I won’t let her slave away in the kitchen” said Muthu, hugging her tight. “Aren’t you my pootie-pie, my snoogie-woogie?”, he crooned in baby-talk. For some inexplicable reason, Kumari felt like gagging. Feeling straitjacketed, she slowly released herself from his grip.

* * * * *

Muthu had taken to drink. After a drink, he was a beast, not himself. Kumari didn’t mind the drinking binges. Men need their entertainment, she thought vaguely. But the physical abuse was humiliating and de-basing. Vaguely, she wondered if Chettiar drank. If he did, she certainly did not know. His comportment was always perfect.

How did I fall for Muthu, wondered Kumari. Was it the music? Kumari used to sing in concerts. Used to. Nobody in the Chettiar household had an ear for music. Almost tone-deaf, thought Kumari. If she started singing, Chettiar would yell from his room after 5 minutes – “Can you stop that caterwauling?” he would say. “Man, I work like a dog in the store and you can’t even give me peace and quiet”.

But, Muthu was different. He urged her to sing songs, whenever they snatched a few moments of privacy. Muthu doesn’t ask me to sing anymore – thought Kumari, feeling a little surreal. She shook her head, as if to dispel the thought.

“Its hard to say why people fall in love” she told granny.  “To Chettiar, I was the ideal housekeeper, a mom for his children. I was – a non-entity, I had no intrinsic value”. But Muthu had talked to her, as if she really mattered.

“Muthu came home often, we met regularly,” she said. We had to, she thought defensively – because of Chettiar’s business. “And when people are thrown together often – things happen”.

* * * * *

“I’m sorry I slapped you”, stammered Muthu. “I’m a beast, I shouldn’t have done that!”. Kumari covered her cheek with her palm. She wondered if her face was swollen. “Sorry, sorry, sorry” bleated Muthu. “I should have controlled my temper!”

“Could you please leave me alone?” asked Kumari shakily. “Of course, of course. Anything for you” he said hastily, trying to placate her.

Left alone, Kumari struggled with the pieces of the jigsaw that were her life. Marrying Chettiar was not her choice – it had been arranged by her father. Many a sleepless night she had wondered, how life would have turned out if she had made a choice. And, then she had chosen Muthu. What did she have to say about their partnership, she wondered.

And then it hit her. She moved to their bedroom resolutely and started packing her belongings in a trunk. It took her 5 minutes.

I’m tired of leaning on men, using them as a walking stick – she thought. First, it was Chettiar and then it was Muthu – Neither man let me be. Not all women bloom in the company of men. I don’t need a husband to make me feel whole.

“Where are you going?” stammered Muthu. Kumari took a deep breath. “I’m leaving”, she said in an even tone. “Look, I’m sorry I hit you”, he pleaded, white-faced. “And I’ll stop drinking, I promise”. Then he started crying with intense self-pity. “I don’t have anyone else, please don’t leave me”.

She looked at him with sympathy, tinged with faint disgust. Muthu doesn’t look handsome when he’s crying, she thought critically. His features were contorted and his jaw was quivering like a girl’s.

Something tugged at her heart, but she knew what she had to do. “Its not because of you”, she said. “Is it about Nalini?” quavered Muthu. “She means nothing to me. You’re my everything!”

“No, its about me”, said Kumari and she started walking away. “After all, you’re 20 and I’m 32”.

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2nd Innings – Part 1

The train was slowly pulling out of the station, shrieking with gusto. Two figures were trotting along the train – a young man in an easy sprint and a not-so young woman in a slow jog. “This is our compartment, get in”, shouted Muthu jumping into the train with the ease of young, supple limbs.  He laughed at the huffing and puffing woman who was falling by the wayside.  “At this rate, Kumari – you’ll be stranded at the station”. So saying he grabbed the woman by her waist and hoisted her into the train.

A jolt of electricity surged through Kumari, embarrassing her with its intensity. “Come on”, said Muthu and dragged her to their 2^nd class compartment. 6 pairs of eyes fastened on them, devouring them with curiosity. Realizing too late that they still had their garlands on, Kumari tried to disappear into her seat. I can really use some privacy, she thought.

The train was chugging along. The woman in the opposite seat moved closer to Kumari and asked her sotto voce, “Is that your younger brother?” – her eyes were burning with curiosity. Yes, I have my best silk sari on and we’re both garlanded. This is how sisters travel with their brothers, thought Kumari dryly. I can’t blame the woman, thought Kumari. After all, Muthu is only 20 and I’m 32. From now on, she should get accustomed to such questions. She suddenly felt very tired.

The train stopped at a station. Some station. “Let me get you some tea”, said Muthu, jumping out of the train with alacrity. Kumari leaned against her seat, thinking back to the time she first met Muthu.

* * * * *

It had been another soul-less morning – toiling in the kitchen, making forgettable food. Washing a mountain of dirty dishes, since the maid was AWOL. Even the maid gets a day off to do what she wanted to do. What do I want to do, wondered Kumari. Her mother-in-law’s acerbic voice punctured her reverie. “You’ve managed to waste the milk yet again, Kumari?” The burning smell of milk pervaded the kitchen, as Kumari looked around helplessly, feeling inadequate.

“Chithi (Step mom), sew this button on my shirt, its getting late for me!” – Babu was yelling from the hall. “Chithi, where is my uniform? Have you ironed it?” – screamed Lalitha from her room. The Pressure Cooker was adding to the din, whistling its way to glory. Kumari plugged her eats, vainly trying to shut out the myriad noises.

“Sir, Sir!” called a voice from the verandah. “Can somebody get the door?” begged Kumari. “Sir, Sir!” called the voice again. Something snapped inside Kumari. She stormed onto the verandah. A young man of about 20 was tapping the door. “Is there no end to tormenting me? How many hands do you think I have?” she roared. The young man was taken aback. “My! I thought I had come to my boss’s house. Evidently, I’ve come to the lion’s lair”, he said with mocking eyes, grinning mischievously.

“What’s all the commotion, Kumari?” asked Chettiar, coming to the verandah. “Oh, Muthu. Its you. Any updates?” he asked the young man. “Yes, Sir. The rice bags have arrived. I’m unloading them in the warehouse. I was about to tell Madam, but Madam is – a little tired”. Abashed, Kumari looked down, unable to face Muthu.

“Go back to the kitchen, Kumari” said Chettiar. “Don’t you have work to do? Can’t you hear Babu and Lalitha calling for you?”

* * * * *

Chettiar, her husband. “I could only find coffee in the railway canteen”, said Muthu, handing her a plastic cup. No, no. Kumari shook her head vigorously. Chettiar is no longer my husband.  Muthu is my husband from now onwards.

“We’re going directly to my friend’s house in Chennai,” said Muthu. “He’ll help me find a job and a house to stay”. He took a sip of coffee and grimaced. “I’m tired of eating out. But from now on, I have you. You can make me all the dishes I love”, he said, caressing her cheek.

The bottom fell out of Kumari’s stomach. She hated cooking. She detested the kitchen. If given a chance, she’ll live on bread, fresh milk and water. “Of course, I’ll make your favorite dishes” she said, managing a smile. “Take your hands off my face Muthu, everyone’s looking at us goggle-eyed. That fat woman in the corner seat is so shocked she might die of a cardiac arrest”.

“I’m touching my wife,” said Muthu loudly so everyone could hear. “If someone thinks that’s wrong, it’s none of their business, that’s all”. Kumari reddened in spite of herself. “I can’t understand his ardor now, can I”, she thought. He’s only 20 and I’m 32.

* * * * *

In the movie, the heroine hugged the hero and asked him the question “Darling, do you like this song?” It was all so romantic. Eons ago, when they were newlyweds –a lifetime ago, it seemed to her – Kumari tried it on Chettiar, in the breathless whisper used by the heroine. Chettiar looked up from his ledger distastefully. “Songs don’t put food on the table”, he said grumpily. “And for god’s sake, don’t touch me or use terms of endearment at home. The children might see that”.

Gradually, Kumari learned to swallow her questions. How do I look in this sari? Whom do you think we should vote for? By the way, I read an interesting book – can I discuss that with you? Did you like what I made for dinner?

Chettiar ran a grocery store in our town. Rice, pulses, tamarind, chilly, oil – these were his world. His universe was small. He got up at 5 AM thinking about his grocery store. He went to bed at 11 PM, mentally figuring out the profits he made that day. His dreams were filled with Tea bags, Sugar sacks and Soap cartons that he could sell the next day.

In between, he made some time for his 2 children from a previous marriage. Sometimes when Chettiar caught sight of Kumari, there was a note of surprise in this face, as if wondering whom this entity was, and how it came into being.

* * * * *

They found a house in Triplicane. Muthu found a job in a local super-market. Kumari started doing what she had always been doing – cook, clean and wash. Life hit the “routine” button, as it has a way of doing.

Kumari sometimes wondered if she felt guilty about leaving Chettiar. Sometimes she did, other times she just felt relief. It was all so confusing. Life isn’t simple like a moral science lesson, she thought.

“I heard you have 2 step-children,” asked the granny next door. Babu and Lalitha. Kumari wondered who ironed their clothes now.

“I don’t mean to pry” began granny. “What made you leave your first husband?” Granny had become a friend, purely due to her proximity. Kumari sighed.

She looked around her 1 bedroom flat. If someone had told her that she’d elope with Muthu 6 months back, she would have laughed aloud. “Muthu looked like a savior to me”, she said slowly. Yes, a savior. To rescue her from her drudgery, from a life that had become soulless.

I have been saved, Kumari reiterated to herself. And I’ll be happy this time. “Have you met Nalini, Muthu’s young deputy?”, asked granny. “No”, said Kumari. “Why do you ask?”

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FTOTW – Sitting Lethal, Revolutionary, Memes, Positive Deviants, Teach Math..

Fine Tastings of the Week – the best links i tweeted last week.

1. RT @ambercadabra @jonathanfields: YIKES – Is Sitting a Lethal Activity? New research suggests yes – NYT –http://rdd.me/ynh4mwdn ~ brilliant

2. RT @lisahickey: How to be a revolutionary — learn the rules faster. By the brilliant @penelopetrunk ~ http://bit.ly/hLL34n ~ vv insightful

3. RT @rossdawson: James Gleick does very good review of What Defines a Meme? http://bit.ly/eeAHUI ~ vv interesting

4. RT @nilofer: For innovation find “deviants” who have already fixed problem (without new tech) & amplify http://bit.ly/hKVE3F ~ vv insightful

5. RT @ProfessorGary: Fascinating –> How Pressure and Stress Are Affecting Your Performance: http://t.co/q8RveOZ ~ brilliant

6. RT @renesugar: @Brainology RT @newsycombinator A better way to teach math http://j.mp/esC8ZG ~ brilliant

References

I use a certain ratings scale for my annotations which are explained here.