Category: News

Less work * Less stress = More Money

To prove: The product of less work and less stress equals more money later in life.

The month of the Nobel has passed. I don’t know about you, but for me the Nobel month seems to tick me off robustly in the ear when I am popping balloons and being frivolous and wasteful. All nobel laureates are apparently hard-working, have worked all their lives and shall work rather hard till the day they die. Losers!

I shall tell you why I classify them so harshly.

There is a news article that is getting so much attention, it makes us young folks quiver. Think of the facts: I thought I had a system going. Do an honest day’s worth of work everyday as long as your mental and physical faculties allow you to and life will go on. It will take care of you in its own way. When the head needs hair and/or dye and the skin needs ironing and the back needs straightening, we should still be able to eat, live and love. Work now and enjoy the fruits later – Karma Basics 1.

But that is not what the news article tells us. It tells us that older Americans are at least 47 times richer than younger Americans —-> Exhibit 1

http://www.businessweek.com/ap/financialnews/D9QRMR800.htm

There are scores of articles claiming stress has increased and workload has increased dramatically in this generation as opposed to previous generations. —-> Exhibit 2

http://www.stress.org/job.htm

Putting two and two together, or rather 1 and 2 together; I place before you theorem number 1:
The product of less work and less stress equals more money later in life. [Q.E.D]i.e.Quod Erat Demonstrandum

I have a plan so brilliant in place that I might easily land the Nobel Prize – all I need is for someone from the committee to read this blog.

I just plan to grow old. To occupy the vast amounts of time that I will have at my disposal, I shall jog the odds of getting richer than previously imagined by taking up regular correspondence with those optimistic fellows who claim that I am in the unique position of inheriting what half the country of Lisuavia craves for. I have in my list around two score countries just waiting to tip their wealth into my bank account.

Then when I grow old, I can be 48 times richer than someone in the work force and laugh.

What? 7?

Regular readers of my blog know I had a second baby this summer. They also know that it is the first summer I stayed home with the now-school-going-daughter. One afternoon as we sat on the bed reading while the baby slept nearby, I asked her how she felt about having a sibling. Her face lit up and she said in a rush “Finally I got a brother amma!” and proceeded to plant a rather wet kiss on his face, waking him up dutifully.

“Okay, so we just have to do this for another 7 years right? One baby every summer for the next seven years and we’ll be done.” I said putting my book down for the umpteenth time to soothe the baby. (I don’t know why I bother trying to read really.) She dropped her book and shrieked “WHAT?”

“What? My grandmother had nine children. So….”
“My god! NINE children? She had a baby, gave inga, had a baby, gave inga – that is all she did?” (“Inga” is her talk for breastfeeding and I think she said ‘had a baby, gave inga’ nine times for clarity)

I laughed at her extreme reaction and thought of my lovely grandmother again. Her dimple, the gray hair that she pulled into a tight knot and the nine yard saree. “One yard for each child” she said as she hopped, skipped and jumped while tying her nine-yard saree. My simple brain asked her why she didn’t just switch to a six yard saree then and she gave me a vibrant laugh as an answer.

I have been thinking of her almost everyday since I had my little Tucky. I love babies, but I will also sigh at the amount of work (This… when I am lucky enough to have diapers, washing machines and help from parents) The poor lady had nine children one after the other, and the rigour of it all may have ruined her intestines, but did nothing to diminish her love for children. She still loved talking to us.

The only thing she ever asked of us was to massage her legs and I feel so guilty that I did not indulge her enough.

A friend had posted this link on the effect having children has on us and I couldn’t agree more.
http://www.codinghorror.com/blog/2011/10/on-parenthood.html

As we celebrate the 7 billion mark on 31st Oct along with Halloween, let’s hope Mother Earth remains bountiful and as accommodating to her most demanding species.

PS: I really need to get my diagrams-act together. Any pointers appreciated.

India and Love

I wonder if folks remember the wholesome entertainment of Doordarshan (DD : India’s state owned television in the pre-cable era) Doordarshan was aptly named – sometimes it was more entertaining to stare at the door.


The Entertainment gurus deemed it inappropriate for young minds to see a lot of things, top among them being hot love scenes. I remember Chitrahaar and Oliyum Oliyum bearing the brunt of these ‘edits’. You see, love songs are (and were), a part and parcel of Indian cinema. You have to see a heroine shiver in the cold, hug her hero and sing while prancing around trees (preferably Eucalyptus trees – the scent will keep them from catching cold). But the DD powers felt family entertainment must not contain any scenes of kissing or cuddling in love songs. Consequently, every time something mushy was on the cards, a static picture would appear.

For example, whenever Roja songs came on with Arvind Swamy mooning over Madhubala, the scenes were replaced by still photographs of the Himalayas. Instead of listening to the songs on tape, one could see a beautiful photograph of the Himalayas and listen to the songs. Visual effects can affect one you know?

I remember an Aunt of mine telling us about how her warden would accompany them to movie viewings and tell them all to close their eyes whenever a middle-aged-hero-dressed-like-college-boy wooed a woman on screen.

I thought all those days were behind us, till I read this news item telling us airlines routinely censor their in-flight entertainment
http://www.news.com.au/travel/you-censored-what-curious-cuts-to-in-flight-films/story-e6frfq7r-1226127272232

I suppose it makes sense to air appropriate content for in-flight entertainment. I mean, no one wants a lethal combination of an idle mind and airline food, getting food for thought from a terrorist movie. Imagine what this man would have going in his mind if he had got on the plane?

https://nourishncherish.wordpress.com/2009/10/07/what-next/

But even there, Air India stands out. I quote:
Air India passengers are forced to squint during the screening of romantic comedies, with the airline policy of blurring out any signs of romance on TV screens.

We love India.
All Indians are our brothers & sisters.

Old DD folks absorbed at Air India perhaps?!

How low is too low?

Clothes are a personal choice. But that doesn’t stop me from wondering about how some clothes defy the laws of Physics.

Many a time I sit on my train wondering what to wonder about, when teenage boys walk in and fill the void. When I say walk in, I use the term loosely. They waddle in like ducks with athritis. Their knees are bent in an awkward manner and their feet land as apart from each other as possible – you know making an obstuse angle like this.

\ /

\ /

\ /

Why do they walk thus you ask. To keep on a gravity defying bit of clothing, that is why: Their pants hanging on for dear life to the waist. I suspect it must be pretty rotten being the pants in question. I mean imagine living every moment wondering whether one is going to fall down. I suspect they use belts to keep them where they are, but I haven’t really looked. It seems indecent to look at people’s pants especially if it means catching sight of their underwear instead. Coming to which, what do these boys call their underwear? It is clearly not “under” any other piece of clothing. Most of the time the pants are more than midway down the thigh. Sigh!

http://www.mercurynews.com/san-mateo-county/ci_18468273?source=most_viewed – pants below bottom

Rebellion takes many forms – the pants in this case. Nobody says anything of course, but merely look away discreetly. Which is why this news item intrigued me – the crew asked this man to deplane since his pants were below his bottom. The man did not comply and created a fuss before being whisked away.


But that leads us to the question – how far is too far and how low too low?

A Cryonics Question

http://www.clickondetroit.com/news/28730691/detail.html

The Cryonics Movement Founder, Robert Ettinger died. He had his own body stored. When his first wife died, he stored her body. Then, the poor man lost his second wife as well and of course stored her body too. He must have loved them both dearly.

In the future(possibly hundreds of years from now), when technology does develop enough to resusciate a man’s life from his remains, imagine the shock the man will get on springing to life in an unrecognizable world. As if this was not enough trouble to be getting along with, what would happen when he finds his wives’ spring on him er … spring back to life. Which wife is his legal and binding partner? Is it the one who comes back to life first?

I am not sure as to their ages when they died, but what happens to to seniority in the family? Love will triumph – maybe the women will continue to love their man, but will they love each other? Maybe, they should have stored Osama Bin Laden’s body to find out how he managed with three wives under one roof without so much as an opp. to step out for groceries….

The World may change, but it’s worries not much…..

Happy Women’s Day

Happy Women’s Day to all you wonderful women out there.

I have been getting lots of mails telling me people are proud of me because I cry when I am sad and laugh when something is funny. Also, my hugs are supposed to be fused with the magical healing touch. Bruises heal themselves. I wonder how I broke the cup the other day with all these abilities I possess. Maybe, I did not hug the shards of the broken cup hard enough.

Apparently, all this makes me a wonderful woman. I also eat when I am hungry – I suppose that makes me more human.

The mails I am receiving also tell me as a woman I don’t quite know my power or capacity – I agree. Once when I was around a decade old, my friend and I had a dosa eating competition to which my sister unwittingly offered to be the dosa maker. I did surprise myself, and lost by a small margin, but my dosa competitor was a year older than I was.  I don’t think the sister has learned to view the dosa tava with the same benevolence since. If I remember right, I groaned all evening clutching my stomach in a wonderful show of feminine bravery.

Which all brings me to the question, do Men have a day dedicated for them?

There is an International Men’s Day. It is celebrated on November 19th, and was started as recently as 1999 – almost a century after their Women counterparts started celebrating themselves.

Frivolous as the content of this post is, I do hope my female brethen are uplifted from the horrors of misogyny inflicted upon them by men and members of their own creed. I’d like to end this post on this note (Seneca)

Dum inter homines sumus, colamus humanitatem

As long as we are human, let us be humane

Word Verification

I had to turn on word verification while commenting. The reason is, I had a very persistent blogger enticing me to earn extra $2000 just by filling out online surveys. It looks like something needs to be purchased for a throw-away price of $79.99, and then the riches are mine for the asking.

I haven’t verified these sources yet, but I am assuming there is a typebox asking me to enter my credit card number, checking account number in which to credit my dues, address, and any other personal identification I feel like divulging. Once done, I pretty much have to twiddle my thumbs, and randomly click on online surveys, and watch the money flow (The sentence obviates my need to specify the direction of money flow)

Every time I read something like this, I can’t help looking at the reference comments. There is Joyful Jane falling all over herself claiming this liberated her from her dejected depravity, and she is the owner of a Mercedes Benz in just six short months. This comment is followed by All-you-can-get Alex, who is all but ga-ga over the site. For good measure, solely for skeptics such as myself, there is a Cautious Curie who says, she did not believe in the site at first, but later her new-found riches helped turn her torn down hut in Louiseville, KY into a mansion at Orange County.

I am going to pass the easy riches for the N-th time, and hope the California lottery picks me as a winner instead.