imagination

Thank God for ‘spell check’ !

To me sub-standard work is a reflection of your attitude to the reader. Be it spelling errors or grammatical errors or atrocious abbreviations” So wrote a friend. ( It was not directed at me. Really).

As the words registered, a shudder went through the spine that, could have been felt in Greece. Obviously it wouldn’t have registered with the residents of Greece for they seem to other problems to solve. But for sure, my hair stood up. Reading the friend’s note.

Now, I must say, i have the highest regard for you. For you. Yes, you. You who is reading this sentence. For reading what i dish out. On an even keel i have the greatest regard for the chap who thought of ‘spell check’ !

For, If only it weren’t for ‘spell check’, my not getting lynched for mis-spelling would have been a function of the intensity of my prayer and great kindness in readers like you.

Having confessed to fundamental deficiencies, somehow seems to give me liberty to cock a snook at others in boats like mine !! Something like Afghanistan talking about India not being a safe place. Or India whining about Chinese cheap imports. And the Chinese preaching Human rights !

What can i do ? Blessed with a roving imagination and a compelling need to expend energy on things ‘that wont earn two rupees’ (as the missus puts it), the mind wanders to possibilities that mis-spellings throw up !

Like this one.
Seen outside a road side shop that fixes a punctured tyres. “TYRE PUNCHER” ! It screams. (Spell check couldn’t have spotted that). But then, imagine a Mike Tyson just ear away ( yes.. a ear away) from you, punching tyres with ferocity that befits a Evander Holyfield. Wouldn’t you feel insecure ?

Phew ! And there you are, having to fix a punctured one yourself ! That must be some predicament. Would it not be ?

Or take this example.
Spotted near the much advertised and spanking new Bandra-Worli sealink. If you keep to the left of the road, and pass Lilavati Hospital, you will of course come to a church. For many years, its been known as the Mount Mary church.

Until the time some men thought it fit to change Mary to merry ! Some deprived soul, must be. Or perhaps someone who was so much into merriment…! Or perhaps someone with a girlfriend called Mary… ! Possibilities abound, you see !
Of course, these are not big pearls of wisdom in this post.
With Hyderabad having so much of bandhs and shutdowns, i guess someone walked away with a vowel ! Nevertheless, just wanted to write in, saying a sincere word of thanks to readers like you. For coming back for more! And prodding me to venture into unchartered territory.
But seriously. What would i do without ‘spell check’ ! Phew !

Horses for Courses – Part II

Part – I, had fantastic response. So, Staying with horses!

Speaking of horses, hill stations provide you with plenty. Albeit these are horses who humour tourists. The loud children, big men and women, all perhaps in search of some interim pleasure. “Can we go ‘horse riding’ ” is not to be read as a question, but as an indication of an activity whose time has come !

The point really is these are horses who run the same dirt track every day. With an odd tourist in every shape and size. Done without complaints. And done without fuzz.

You can excuse the odd neighs and sundry gallop in the wrong direction. ( Somewhere they ought to be like us, right ?) All that is commonplace.

At Mahabaleshwar though, they have names to the horses.

Names like

Salman.
Bipasha.
Shaheed.
Kareena.
John Ibr.
Hrithik.
Munna Bhai.

And the chaps that sell rides, proclaim to the world, ‘ How about a ride on Salman ‘ ? Well. Hmm. Now, i love horses. But that marketing pitch didn’t quite resonate well with me. A rose is a rose is a rose. Yes. That’s true. And, in this case it was a horse.

But you know, when i did ride, two things made it uncomfortable. I am an occasional tourist and a rarer horse rider. Ofcourse, the butt didnt take the steady cantor pleasantly.

The other i guess was in my own mind. ” Riding ‘Salman’ ” wasn’t exactly my idea of a holiday. And then, just as i was dismounting and ruing the lack of a clear and steady mind, ‘Sir, would you want to try Bipasha’ said a big gent with another white horse.

And Bipasha snorted. I guess in wholesome disapproval.

The next day, as i took a walk, Bipasha, Salman, Shaheed and the gang, were all being given their bath. Their name tag identities lying besides them. And not on them.

And suddenly, they seemed who they truly were. Simple beautiful living creatures.


I
I clicked many times. ‘Pics of Salman, Shaheed, Bipasha et al having a bath by the river’ would be a blog title that could cause such a spike in Internet traffic that the world could have to come to a halt.

The horses couldn’t care less. Any more than a vigorous shake of a fresh white head ! And that was to swat a fly !