In memory of Kiran

Kiran Thimmegowda
11/20/1977 - 03/26/2006

My dear friend Kiran has moved on from this world. I have not seen anyone do more justice to the phrase “Live fast, die young.” For each word I write here, I am searching for a million more. His spirit of adventure, sense of humour, kind heart and willingness to help total strangers – are impossible to match.

He still makes me laugh – when I think about the time we were put up at some total stranger’s place for the night he raided the refrigerator like he owned it. He didn’t even spare the grape juice concentrate! I remember how he psyched people by moving his temporary dentures with his tongue. I remember the afro wig he carried in his car and used on demand. I remember how he replied to my inquisitive neighbour, a Telugu speaking person, totally in Kannada with some funny suffixes to make it sound like Telugu. He’d have pulled it off too, if not for me splitting my sides.

He is in a better place now, touching lives there. He would not want you to cry…he would not let you. All I pray for today is to make more of his kind. May his soul rest in peace.

Happiness 101

The most popular course at Harvard this semester teaches happiness!


“Every Tuesday and Thursday at 11:30 a.m., students crowd into Sanders Theatre to learn about creating, as the course description puts it, ''a fulfilling and flourishing life," courtesy of the booming new area of psychology that focuses on what makes people feel good rather than the pathologies that can make them feel miserable.”

For the entire article, go to this LINK

I heard about this course on NPR, and wanted to google it ever since. I’ve always questioned the whole idea of “Creation of a fulfilling & flourishing life” by attending courses, seminars etc. I’m no psych major, but I suspect some ‘Pavlov-bell-dog-salivation’ thing going on here (ahem…there you go, that’s the length, breadth and depth of my psych knowledge.) Do we really need a conditioned stimulus to produce a happiness response…and fill up every cubic inch of our life with only happiness? Do we need someone to tell us what will, or should make us happy? What about other emotions and experiences? I’d rather live a ‘complete’ life, on my own loose, convenient terms. Yes! Lord Saturn - my scriptwriter & also my ruling planet…you’re fired! I’m going impromptu. Anyway, that’s just me…and I’ve got scars to prove it.

(p.s.: Lord Saturn, you know I'm kidding right. Fired??? Far from it. Guess who got a 50% hike and a spot bonus?)

Bingo!

One…Seven…Seventeen, the dancing queen.
Seven…seven, lucky seven.
Three…three, cup of tea.

and Bingo!! I got married!

Yes, on the 17th of last month, I did the seven pheras and tied ‘em three tight knots! The lucky lady is TruthFairy!

After wallowing in Shangri-La (namma Bengalooru) for longer than my boss would’ve approved, I got off the La Amistad last week. Nice immigration officer. Said they need more folks like me…duh!! Who wouldn’t instantly trust and fall in love with a disheveled, stinky, jetlagged, trans-Atlantic traveler. Hmmm, although the security check fellow at the airport back home respectfully asked me “Sir, are you carrying a small knife?” Well, sometimes staring at X-ray machines for 10 hours a day can be taxing, and sometimes you could use a shiny Parker to stab folks who ask you annoying questions – good call, security man.

I’m growing up faster than I’d imagined. It’s a nice buzz. Similar to the feeling I got when I was 15 and shot up to flirt with the 6' mark I’d drawn at 20 places around the house. Last month I got married, and this month we put in an offer for buying a condominium, and the seller accepted it. Well, what do you know…M3’s still got it. I made them an offer they couldn’t refuse. (No price horse had to be beheaded, if you must know, you movie-freak! In real life, the mafia is kind to animals.)

Anyway, I am now jumping through hoops, the usual home-buyer's rigamarole, and as they all say, “I signed my life away to my home!” During the contract/mortgage signing marathon..yeah, about 250 places marked with what looked like a retarded alpha, I heard the words of my mortgage consultant – “You fatten the pigs, but slaughter the hogs.” Well, well, well…you just didn’t call me a pig, mister! After all that we've been through to reach my current carpal tunnel situation, how dare you call me a pig? ...oh, oh, like that! I think I completely missed the context. On second thoughts, regardless of the context, I’d rather be called a pig in “Mortgagese”...anything to stay away from the butcher's block.

More soon. I'm back baby, and I'm gonna put rambletown on the map. Stay connected!