My First Book! DONT GO AWAY. WE'LL BE RIGHT BACK

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Published: April 17, 2011 00:00 IST | Updated: April 17, 2011 04:07 IST
Book bond

INDU BALACHANDRAN
On the occasion of World Book Day (April 23) INDU BALACHANDRAN takes a tongue-in-cheek look at reading habits.



I plan to write a book called “How I conquered the British Vampire”. I have no clue what it's about, but am sure that with a title like that, millions of crazed teens will rush out to buy it, as vampire fiction is still a worldwide rage…

Ok, ok… you must excuse us writers the occasional trick to get you to read more, because there's an entire publishing industry that's dependant on us to keep them off the streets, begging for food and sleeping on, what else? Newspapers. Using unsold books as pillows.

And if you are among those rare ones that read at least four books a month, then several publishing houses would like to garland you, and perhaps even name a bookstore after you…(hope you're name isn't Higginbotham, as that one's taken already.)

I know a lot of people blame the drawing room deity, the TV set, for keeping us away from books and newspapers. But that's not always true. I once read that Groucho Marx thanked television for encouraging him to read. Every time someone switched on the TV, he rushed out to another room and read a book.

Or perhaps the movies are to blame. Nowadays they seem to be making movies out of books even before the author has finished writing his book.

However there is no need for the few committed readers like you and me to turn our noses up at those who prefer to wait for the movie version rather than go through 400 pages of a book. Because even the movies encourage the reading habit in their own way. I know pals who don't leave the hall till they've read every name on the rolling credits, down to Nora Philips who was the Fat Lady in the Airplane , and Timmy Anderson who handled the Key Grip.

Books improve looks

There's no denying that books can improve your looks instantly. Look what happened to me recently when I decided to appear ridiculously well-read at a swish society party. Sipping my drink I said breezily, “Isn't it fascinating how Goethe has made Faust an erudite hybrid between a play and Hellenic poetry? I find Faustian allegories apply even to the questionable lifestyle of Salman Khan…” Oh what a high I experienced as several people gazed at my face in deep admiration. It sure beat using Fair & Lovely.

And in this day of multi-tasking, it is great to see people combine reading with whatever else they are doing. Like my former colleague Jojo. He spends at least three hours a day reading, combining it with Looking Busy Doing Work. He reads around 237 status updates daily on facebook ; he reads 10 reasons why raising shrimp is better than marriage (forwarded to him by an ex-fiancée), and is up to date on what the Harley Davidson Club in Utah is planning this summer. We must thank www for doing its bit for the reading habit.

But am not quite sure about the younger generation…There's this incident I read about the man who recently gave his nephew a Book to read as a Christmas present. The seven-year old spent hours trying to find out where to fit in the batteries…

And I doubt if even his parents were great readers in their childhood. Because a Classic is a book that everybody is assumed to have read, and often think they have.

So we must thank Reader's Digest for giving us bite-sized bits to chew and swallow and still appear smart at interviews and parties. Though I think this writer of abridged classics went too far when he gave us this book that reads: “Boy and Girl from warring families meet. She is compared to a rose. She pretends to be dead. He thinks she's really dead. He kills himself. She finds he's dead and kills herself.” I think Romeo and Juliet deserved a bit more than that.

Keep exercising

And if Reading is to the mind, what exercise is to the body, then my cousin Raju's mental treadmill has remained broken down for a long time…

I saw him the other day in a green park, blissfully staring out, doing nothing, under a tree. “Hey what's up, “I asked. “Don't disturb me, I'm celebrating World Book Day by reading…” he said. “How? I don't see any Book,” I said, puzzled.

“Can't you see? I'm enjoying a Book while it is still a tree…”

Hey publishers! A lot of environmentalists may love Raju. But don't worry; I am still there for you.

Indu Balachandran is a travel and humour columnist for leading magazines. Email: indubee8@yahoo.co.in.

How to start a beginning...

The thing is to begin at the beginning, and then keep going till you reach the end.

So some wise man told us.

But then, I can never start something unless I have a good ending.

So.

I shall begin with the ending.

And the ending is: what my English teacher (my hero) told me at school, the last time

I met her...(I remember thinking, hey! what a great title for a book I may write one day...)

And this is what she said to me, as I waved goodbye...

"And don't forget to write".

[The Hindu] Forgot Password?

Creating a web account is no big deal. Can someone say keeping track of passwords is as easy as that, asks Indu Balachandran

L ast week, someone asked me for my mobile phone number. A mild panic set in. “Give me yours, I'll give you a missed call…” I said. But that cruel person caught on. “Aha! Forgotten your own number, have you? It happens, it happens…”

Well the reason why numbers are refusing to stay in my head any more is because they have been slowly edged out of their residence in the left side of my cranium by a number of intruders, and these intruders are called Passwords.

There are so many of them jostling for space, all yelling Remember me! Remember me! that I am wondering where to go and get extra RAM space in my brain. Only then will I ever keep track of my Yahoo password, my ATM password, my online railway booking password, my Credit Card protected password , my Cheap Airline Ticket password, my Movie Ticket Booking password, my Theatre Club password, my Investments Portfolio password, and not forgetting, my dead pet cat's name. Some sites even ask you for that.

Those days

When computers first entered our lives, it was all so different: I had only one password to let me into the exciting cyber-world. It was so easy to remember (perhaps because my password was ingeniously called PASSWORD). Those eight letters would magically gain me entry to my mail. Soon I kept the very same password for every new website I discovered.

But a geek pal of mine was horrified that I had a password called PASSWORD in the first place. What a ridiculous thing! Even a moron could hack into that, change it at once!!

So I picked a good four-letter word. (The word in fact was GOOD, not what you just thought of). But suddenly, those stern doormen at these gates of entry got annoying. “Your password must have at least 2 numerals” said one. Oh no! So I decided to do some numerology to see which numbers I could choose. I went to a Numerology website for this, but first I had to enrol. And guess what it asked for? Yes, that's right.

Fed up of always hitting the “Forgot Password?” button to get anywhere,

I decided one day that there'd be no more fancy passwords for me. My name would be my password.

So under “Type your new Password here” I put my own name.

A rude red message started flashing immediately: “TOO OBVIOUS!”

These cyber-doormen who check our passwords were getting increasingly judgemental, even cheeky.

So I randomly looked around, and picked a name from the TIME cover lying next to me. “OBAMA” I typed. “TOO WEAK!” was the prompt response. Obama? Weak? The American people were not going to like that…

Ok then, how about just GOD. “Too short!” it said. I tried to make that OH-GOD, exactly what I had just exclaimed. “Try something better!” said the mean message again. Now who could be better than God?

This went on and on, till I finally made up a very rare combination of letters and numbers in a secret mystifying code that even Dan Brown would have gone crazy trying to crack.

“You did it! CONGRATS. Your Password has been successfully CHANGED!” flashed on my screen. I was flush with triumph. There was even a sweet smiley button on the screen that winked at me twice.

The trouble is: with all that exhilaration of getting it right at last, I forgot to write down this amazing password I had just invented. So I've got to hit “Forgot Password?” and start all over again. But forgetting a password can be useful sometimes.

I was overjoyed at an email I received once from a certain ISSAKA BANGU from Nigeria, promising me $4,000,000,00 from an African bank , just by giving him my Bank Account and Password. I suddenly couldn't remember what it was, in all my excitement.

And that story has a happy ending; I wasn't rendered bankrupt by day's end.

But I am sure I am better than my pal Tina with this password thing in computers. And when Tina can't figure out something she never hesitates to ask Customer Care for help. This is what happened to her:

Customer Care: What's on your monitor now, ma'am?

Tina: The smiling picture of me next to the Pyramids in Egypt.

Customer Care: Er, well, what I meant is: what stage are you in logging into the internet?

Tina: I typed in a Password but nothing happened…

Customer Care: Are you sure you used the right password?

Tina: Yes, I'm sure. I did exactly what I've seen all my colleagues do.

Customer Care: Can you tell me what password you typed in?

Tina: Sure. Six dots.

Meanwhile, I must tell my pal Tina that she and I are not alone in our confusion over Passwords. Here's what I read about this woman who was asked why she had such a long password:

mickeydonaldtomjerrylaurelhardylondon.

Apparently she was merely following that website's clear instructions : “The password must contain at least six characters and one capital.”

Indu Balachandran is a Travel and Humour columnist. Email: indubee8@yahoo.co.in

This article was featured on http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-features/tp-sundaymagazine/forgot-password/article1117726.ece

[iDiva] The Mountain and Lady Mountbatten

What The Lady saw from her bedroom window

She had woken up to the very same sight as I did, right outside this very bedroom window …over 60 years ago!The Himalayas may have melted a bit since then, but the same overwhelming feeling of seeing it so upclose must have mesmerised Lady and Lord Mountbatten too, on their visit here to escape the heat of Delhi.Holm Farm Heritage, a grand old Brit bungalow built as a Retreat for English Officers (just a 10 minute drive away from the picturesque hill station Ranikhet), was now a heritage hotel, and much to my thrill, I got to stay in the very same historical Edward Suite. "Even Jawaharlal Nehru has stayed here!" declared my genial host. (Er, on some other occasion, I presumed, and not when Lady E had her beauty sleep here…)Wandering about the charming old home with its colonial furniture and generous spaces, Himanshu Upadhyaya, a national level cricketer-turned-hotel owner, showed me pictures of the Mountbattens and Nehru in the museum-like Lounge, and I heard interesting stories of their visits here.

This 150 year old Retreat was acquired by Mohan Upadhyaya (a close associate of Pandit Nehru) soon after Independence, and now Himanshu runs his inheritance with much pride, giving travellers a dollop of laid-back Raj-style living, with historical anecdotes to bring the place alive.Back in my room, I walked barefoot across the pine-wood floor that had been touched by so many celebrity feet…to gaze again at a view that was a magnificent treat for my tired city-eyes.But there was someone already at the window, sitting and gazing at his favourite sight in the world. Like me, eager to lap it all in with his tongue hanging out. Himanshu's delightful pet labrador, Bongo!

This article was featured on http://www.idiva.com/opinion-entertainment/the-mountain-and-lady-mountbatten/2076

[iDiva] Who Moved My Paneer?

Image courtesy: ©2009 Jupiterimages

A handy tip for health-conscious fat- fighting travellers zipping down the highway of temptations: do not exceed the feed limit.

Aha! But you're on holiday here…and don't we all need some extra fuel for those jam-packed holiday activities ahead? And what's jam without a generous layer of butter first…

That's why I love those Breakfast Included places to stay in. And although I have a careful less-cheese, more-paneer, less eggs, more fruit plan in my normal day, I reach the free-breakfast buffet table on my holiday and a compelling voice inside me says: "You have paid a lot of money for this free breakfast already! Now tank up. Eat for the whole day… You're only being sensible, not greedy!"

So suddenly eating nine types of breakfast foods, from three types of plans, and also squeezing in "live dosas" made on the spot, (and hey look, hot pancakes and syrup too; now how did we miss that?), …becomes quite the thing to do on holiday. And when there's a daylong safari through elephant country ahead, eating like one is in order.

Anyway after this one indulgence, I figure I'll be eating like a bird for the rest of the day. Only by the time lunch comes around, I'm eating like a bird all right-and the bird is a raven (so how else do you explain the origins of the word "ravenous'?)

So just give up and give in. And when you come back to good earth and wonder, where did all that holiday money go?? Stand sideways and look in the mirror.

This article was featured on http://www.idiva.com/opinion-entertainment/who-moved-my-paneer/2079

[iDiva] Look What I Picked Up On My Travels

Image courtesy: ©2009 Jupiterimages

One picks up strange stories during travel. One even picks up germs-or rather stories about germs. As I did in the US a few months ago.(Panic not! I don't mean the swine flu…)

I heard this lively discussion on a local US channel, where an expert told us: it is wrong to make beds immediately after waking up! Apparently, the germs arising from one's body sweat at night were still mingling with the sheets and pillows, and it was better to just leave them be for a while-till the fresh morning air made them disappear.

While that's great news for every lazy bachelor-pad inhabitant (why make beds when I'm coming right back here to sleep by day's end?); I must say we exclaimed: "Whatever will these germophobic Americans come up with next!"

Well, I'll tell you what they came up with next. A chap called Simon Sassoon (yes, a relative of that hair chap Vidal ) was pretty worried seeing his girlfriend touching the door handle of a hotel's rest room during a date (eek, what if she tries to hold hands now…) and suddenly thought of an invention called the HYSO.

It's a small white plastic box on rest room doors that frequently gushes out a fine dry disinfecting mist killing all germs on the door knob below. His girlfriend is now an ex (maybe he handed her surgical gloves to wear for the rest of the date, making her mad,) but young Sassoon has made his millions with his clever invention.

So too the guy who invented the personal portable hand strap to hook on for those sweaty bus commutes. Or the lady who invented Sani-shopping, a snap-on plastic cover for shopping trolleys.

While we may have laughed at this in the past, suddenly the swine flu panic is making all these inventions make terrific sense. And despite suspicions of the origin and spread of swine flu, the US has the world's largest number of germ-fearing compulsive obsessive disordered people in the world.

And what do you say about this: there's a story of this American-so conscious of germs, that he even refuses to travel to Germ-any…

This article was featured on http://www.idiva.com/opinion-entertainment/look-what-i-picked-up-on-my-travels/2078