Once upon a time, not too long ago, there were two kids in a hostel, guru and sharma. They were pretty good friends, they’d always be found hanging around, sharing a good laugh, eating ice creams. Everything was going great, until one day when guru had a problem, his problem might seem silly to the reader, but the reader must note, guru was just a small kid, little did he know, he had diarrhea. Guru has no control over it, he thought he was possessed by an evil under the banyan tree because he pelted stones at it, and that if he told someone about it, people would stop being his friend, and avoid him because he was dirty and smelled bad.

Sometimes when, guru and his friends were playing some sport, guru would suddenly run away, no one understood why the usual jocund guru was doing this. All his friends were concerned, but they couldnt guess what was going on. Of them all, the most worried was sharma, sharma noted that guru was not being the usual with him or others, and it bothered him, he seemed to know that guru had some problem. He wondered if it was he himself who said or did something that troubled guru in someway. But he did not know. So one day, he managed to catch guru just in time, before he could run away, made him sit and asked, as to what was going on with guru, and why he seemed to avoid sharma.

How could he lie to sharma? but he did, he did it in best interests of the sharma, for he thought, if he told sharma about his problem, the banyan evil would have sharma too. He lied to him, with a plastic smile, telling him that everything was alright and he should stop worrying. But sharma knew guru was lying, they say love can tell between truth and lies. He only grew more concerned, he assumed it was because of him that guru was acting this way, or there would be no other reason to lie to him. He too smiled, wrapped his arm around him, sat beside him for a while and then left to leave guru alone. The next time he met guru, he bought him a costly chocolate as compensation for something he didnt understand, but thought he did wrong to guru. Guru liked sharma very much for it, he in return bought him many more chocolates as he was guilty of lying to a good friend who was merely trying to make him happy.

Gurus problem however only got worse with time, more so because he felt alone and left out, he stopped eating, he thought it helped him, but it drew more attention from his fellow friends, he didnt want which, their concerns to him meant as an undeserved affection, that he chose to discard, for he didnt want them to be cursed too, and by now he also began to believe that none of his friends could help him in anyway, The evil had a judgment of its own, and nothing good he did would please the devil. He convinced himself that, this was how it would be, forever. Thus, to an unexplainable unforgiving torture, he surrendered.

Sharma, was helpless. he would at times, give guru a warm hug, he would force guru to eat for his sake, but nothing he did changed guru, soon the lie of everything being okay, was an open secret, each knew the other was lying, it upset them both, but none gave in. They would still talk to each other, as though all was well, as if the lie wounds have healed. It was love, in which they pardoned each other.

Guru continues to suffer, and hence Sharma.

Love is a nice nurse. But the doctor is rationality.

Reason was childish, though extremely vexing to make a climb on a rather steep-up to the top of the flyover, the downwards was speed and the wind hitting on the just oozed sweat from the toiling climb, like a balm soothing a pain, bought me instant unadulterated happiness. It didn’t last long. Never does. It was my emotional down up – the hard climb and the fast-finishing slopes. This was my break from beaten paths.

But, here is the trick in it – me knowing that sliding down the slope on the cycle would get me joy. It is very person and situation specific. Changing the circumstances to me walking, I would prefer to avoid the overpass. If I was on a cycle yet on a tour de france circuit, my idea of joy would be in completing the circuit rather than a fancy overpass.

I think that summarizes a great deal of my understanding. One must define an attribute of happiness for every doing. If there is none in it, or is exhausted – settle not – quest towards the nearest action will bring you to it, experiment if you know not. Joy is perishable, seek newer ventures, higher hills, tougher passes, greater joy. You must find the joy that sets you free. Constantly.

This spirit alone seems to have laid pillars of human progress. Individuals obsessed in exercising efforts to gratify their joys – manifests into excellence and by doing this, pushing the humanity by how much ever little.

Its not where you go, its how you go. Go in spirit – the spirit of an unending adventure.

“It is sick the way society around a child perverts its state of
constant happiness and curiosity to induce worry and concern. A child
does not care about questions like whether he is happy or not (am I
happy? is this what I am supposed to do now/ in my life?). He does
what is right in front of him. always by being in the present he
avoids absurd existential questions. I should not ask myself those. of
course a child is happy when he gets a toffee. He does what he is told
for a toffee. But that is not the sole point of his existence nor is
it in his mind constantly. Sometimes, to a child running around in
circles is more important than a toffee.

I remember I was happiest when as a kid I used to do my experiments
breaking things and taking them apart. Just to see what happened if I
did this or that. What happens if you heat grape pulp? I was not an
excellent performer in the class. (In fact, except for two rare cases
I never even held a top 3 position. and never a top position.) I had
an acute sense of wanting to know everything about everything which
was destroyed by the unabashed mugging and rat race for grades. The
point is, I should stop caring about topping and start caring more
about learning. I should make it my first priority to learn new
things.”

…fuck others bay…fuck others who have scheduled out their lives
month by month, year by year till the next decade…we are young …
and there is everything to live for….we can experiment with our
lives and we’ll will be okay even if we fuck up…because we are
young…don’t do anything because the whole world is doing that (on the other hand, that may be a sign to get the hell away from that) (stop:rambling)
follow the beat of the different drum

- These wise words from a dear friend Sabya in a mail response to my usual frustrations. sabya24@gmail.com (posted here without his permission)

He stood at the door of his room, watching her fade into a ghostly white, she was lying on the floor of his room – motionless. Her head in a spill of blood – aimlessly watching the ceiling. Blood bubbled out of a sharp wound in her neck as she breathed. He walked and sat beside her. Cushioning his arms under her head and bringing it to rest on his lap. He moved the hair locks covering her face while palming her pale cheeks. She seemed calm, gushing blood on him apart.

He uttered, “Jeannie?”, breaking the silence.

Her eyes alone moved in an instantaneous response – now looking into his. And then, he saw – Like a blob of wax melting away, her pupil dilating – while his eyes searching in hers for a last look, as it slipped away into an abyss of lifelessness.

“Why so serious Jeannie?”, he said talking to her.

“Jeannie?”

“Look Jeannie I am smiling”, mocking a smile.

“Why so serious? Smile with me Jeanie…Smile!”, and forced her lips to smile, and watched them retract. He did it again.

“Smile. No smile. Smile. No smile. Smile. No smile.”, and he paused.

“Jeannie!”, pointing at her, “You look funny!”, laughing at her blood stained cheeks.

“Aah…now, now, now… lets put a smile on that face.” he said, sounding pleased. He pointed out his finger, wet it with the blood on the floor and retraced the stain marks on her cheeks into a smile.

“There now – that’s a happy family. You – smiling, me – smiling.”

“NO Jeannie, I am smiling! Look!”

“You are right Jeannie, you are always right. I don’t look as funny as you. You – funny. Me – not funny. Not a funny family huh?”

“Why so serious Jack?”, he said while trying to sound in a woman’s voice. Smiling like her, breaking into a sigh.

“Now, lets put a smile on my face”, all enthused he held her hand, folded all but one finger, wet it in blood, and forced it onto his face and moved his head.

“There you go. We are a funny family now Jeannie. A happy funny family. You and me. And the baby.”, he said palming her dead face in a quaint affection.

The sirens were nearing.

All the while we expect the whole world to conspire, to get us the things we care and long.

So hopefully we think its a drama movie with nice ending – oh no, we so dearly hope it ends well, with all the money, fame, action and loved ones still along.

We its heroes. Everyone else – just a side-kick. Unimportant. Ungrateful.

So much evil, of course none of it among us! Our problems – rocket sciences, everyone else’s just a crib.

Jobs of dubious importance, conscious and well aware of it. Yet the human farce of social ranks, authority, parenting.

How sadly wasted are efforts!
How cruelly we refuse to understand!
How hugged to our lives are we, to our egos!
How often we take life for granted!

Ahhh…how sumptuously delighting is vengeance, and how stone cold hard – a sorry? how juicily spurring to point else’s mistakes and how ravaging a criticism?

sleeping-pooping-eating-going-working-eating-cribbing-coming-eating-sleeping.

You are just a cog. A regular mechanical cog, turning the unknown wheel, knowing not – where it goes.

Repetitive mundane banal bland cheese pizza’s – that’s what we are. Gulp it brother, Gulp it! use that coke…gulp it!

Tick Tock
Tick Tock
Tick Tock, all your life. waiting.

People! – YOUR problems are boring

While changing it in his hands he was observing the contoured reflections on its surface. He closed his eyes, and contemplated the plausibility. It was simple, yet profoundly consequent – none of which, he would see to face, it thrilled him – to know death was just a trigger away, the power in it was in making that choice. He doubted if he would do it, someone inside of him was yelling to him, ‘do it’, the other argued, ‘you know you wouldn’t dare’. Unconsciously the gun moved into position aiming his temple, his finger on the trigger, slowly beginning to cast pressure. One face of him inside was smirking at his apathetic other. He was imagining firing the bullet, the sound he would hear, the instance of the warm bullet cracking into his skull, and before he knew fear or pain, it would have all ended. It suddenly felt it was too fast – the emotions were lost. What interested him was the adrenaline rush in teasing death, in roaring at it. He wanted to know death, and yet not surrender to it. A gun was a tasteless choice, he thought.

Slowly he opened his eyes, relaxed the trigger, placed the gun back in the desk and just as he began to get hold of his glass, he heard his wife opening the screechy door of his room, the music was still playing. She seemed puzzled at the look on his face. She walked towards his desk, and leaned on it next to his sitting.

“Whats wrong Jack? why so serious?”, she said looking at him.

“Nothing Jeannie, just the usual”, he said in indifference.

“Now lets put a smile on that face darl… I have something to tell you…”, she said while easing the palm holding the glass, lifted it and held it over her neck in warmth. Gently felt it over her cheeks and kissed it.

“What is it Jeannie?”, he said. His aloof eyes gaining her attention.

“We are going to have a baby Jack… I m pregnant.” she announced smiling.

Jack Niper – Part 2

Why cant you cut an incoming call on a landline phone?

How come a single discharge of urine have varying color intensities?

Sun and Moon are bigger during rising and setting why?

Do plummer people tend to have more smiling faces than rest?

Why do they call it ‘falling’ in love and breaking ‘up’?

Is, ‘Love is blind and can happen to anyone’ only till you are married?

Is time – the not happened future? past that’s gone? or unstoppable now?

Should an artist compose for recognition of his expression or his interpretation of it?

If life’s a bitch, who owns it?

so, this is what it has come to…

Remember the Vicco Turmeric adds? Use it and you will be more beautiful… the bride is applying it… this protects the skin…nahi cosmetic. vicco turmeric ayurvedic cream…
And then came the girl who does not care about her grades in her class, not even about the large quantity of chips she ate… she goes “I dont care” but then… someone says… “hey what happened to your skin…? n a bunch of girls go ‘now tell us, that you dont care’… “
and then the creams that make you “measure your skin tone” (you know better than the whole world)
and finally this… ” i hate ugly” (Allen Solly)

they said it finally, I hate ugly, thats it… those three words speak in all… the evolution of adds that took ages to come to this point. At first, look more beautiful… next comes adds that said… beauty – THE most important, and then compare your beauty. n now, shoving into your face…DO YOU REALLY WANT TO BE UGLY?

whats next?
lynch the squint?
behead the boring?

seen the Jockey adds? a guy wearing just an underwear is eating a dipping chocolate cake. Assuming straight is the majority… what is the motivation of that add exactly? I utterly fail to comprehend, and who bloody looks at an undie? I thought everything one will have to do with, is without them. Now i know you may go to counter me as to what was it in the women and their cleavage based adds (and like) suddenly now, i cant tell, sure they work, then what in such an add helps make a woman buy that product? is it them saying in a twisted way that these are financier/sponsor based adds targeted at making men buy them for their women?… (yikes…!)

I am just sitting there and watch it turn into a super market, with a fat ass hoarding. I ll work for the whole week, and spend it over the things i never even wanted…in a mall that is probably run by the same company that gives my pay cheques. I will buy mineral water, fresh air, and healthy food…and i will secure an AMC for a car i bought for a loan and then… i ll insure it all. yeah sounds just right.

while waiting for Bill Hicks ultimate commercial,

a womans face…
camera pulls back..
naked breasts…
camera pulls back..
she is totally naked.
camera pulls back…
her legs are apart, fingers there.
written below is Drink Coke

“Now, I don’t know the connection, but I am off to drink loads of fucking coke”

This Pic was an Facebook pic, a snap of content from the book The Journey was uploaded by my dearest Vikram, in his album

In response to which, the pic got 8 likes and over 20 comments. Usually i do not bother such, but here in this instance…i have had a raging urge to comment against the notion of liking it… because i see a standard inconsistency being cheaply shoved into heads. in this post, i will try and explain what in the content of this dialogue is very wrong. I could not manage to keep my argument attention span of the audience there, i do not expect to see it here either… it is a documentation solely to complete my argument.

The argument goes thus (starting from the comments on the FB)
—————————————————-
reader 1: Wow… awesome dude.. !!! i wanted the LOVE option rather than the like option!! (and other similar ones)
—————————————————-
reader 2: As much as I love India..At present very few people in India deserve India…200 years of foreign rule and we still have no shame…That is the problem the whole system is so rotten there are many people to blame..From the person who spits paan on the road to the corrupt politician…Even we citizens…Indians have no sense of nationalism like the Americans or the Middle East
—————————————————-
Vikram: u cant just blame a few…too many ppl involved in being what it is now.
—————————————————-
Piyush Sharma: yes.. read ‘India After Gandhi’ by Ramachandra Guha..
—————————————————-
Me: human race, the society, the whole of it…pushes for excellence and improvement…and this is a sum of individual efforts based solely on grounds of greed. i will not replace my mother because i m bound by history of her goodness. but what if ones father was a rich mean drunkard who beats? – virtues, like love and respect, must be earned- not … imposed. your girlfriend is not the most beautiful, but then, are you going to choose an ugly one because of that? you will, like her, look for better looking. we will always ask for more, we settle (marriage from where on a wife) for a choice when our craving exceeds the wait. when it is a choice…ask for more, that is human. better health care, better life, better education, a better nation of opportunities…’i belong to humanity, and there is no where to leave’…… get better reasons to loath America / love India.
—————————————————–
Vikram: @chaitu, i was not looking for reasons to loath america/india, it was a way to telling u that when u love something so much, it automatically becomes the most beautiful thing in the world, be it ur work, ppl, etc. , it was a way of telling u that u feel comfortable at a certain place and with certain ppl even if they are not the best around and … thats how it is…..and when ur the most comfortable, ur at peace. u can crave for the best but like u said, the best is of no good ..not for u nor for me.
—————————————————-
Me: @Vikram, to put it other way, to excel, to grow continuously or to crave for more and better becomes vexing and frustrating. you say, one must cease this pursuit, create a comfort zone, compromise and settle…i differ and my comments on this are beyond the scope of this audience. you win.
—————————————————
Karthik Kroviddi: @Chaitu, it is not your comments that are beyond the scope of the audience here, but it is unconditional love that is behind the scope of your comprehension, hence you win.
—————————————————
Me: @Kartik, Vikram: I totally agree to this- ‘what you love becomes the most beautiful thing.’ My mother loves me and i love her, that is not the argument here.Here it is ‘what you love? and why you should continue to “pursue” that love’ , -Why did Sachin choose to love cricket of all, and then why, when he had no one to prove his love to, made him hit that 200?

If you had to visit a brothel (america) to realize that your wife was better, then mistake not, that is sympathy, not love. If you were bought up in an orphanage, or forced into being a child labor, would the authors arguments still hold? talk of unconditional love to an orphan…what you are doing is patronizing a bad generalization.

the peace is in pursuit. the comfort is in excelling. the only compromise is winning. though frustrating and vexing… that spirit alone has moved the boulders of humanity, They alone who chose this path made a difference. Choose to be Sachin or his nameless “audience”…
—————————————————–
Karthik: @chaitu: I never intended to convey the message that love is to be the driving force. I staunchly believe Excellence is. In that way I might disagree with the author. How can you bring in an orphan into picture who is not introduced to love at all. Offtopic: Apparently, Sachin too plays for his nation. Atleast that is what he says.
—————————————————–
Afroz: What will a discussion on a subjective argument settle, it doesn’t settle anything, and I wouldn’t like to say anything more than what is necessary in public, however, if you want to offer an argument, I have an idea on that …..

Imagine you committed some kind of a crime, let’s say molesting a woman, or killing someone, in America, and you were stupid enough to let people see you, let’s say for the sake of argument if C Hanuma Chaitanya were to commit that crime, what would be the likely description that a typical american lady/man would give to the police, “approximately 5ft so and so inch, *INDIAN* male (well, they would most probably say Asian, and tell non chinese/japanese/korean) with spects, short and wavy hair”……and if they were lesser observant people, it would just be rough height and the race, leave the spects and the hair and the shave and all … only if they were practically blind would they leave the race i.e. Indian, out of the equation. Would the above passage be any different if C Hanuma Chaitanya were to give up his Indian passport and become an American citizen ? Never, they’ll be exactly the same

You and I and all of us are Indians, and that’s all we ca ever be, and that is solely the first detail people will give about you outside india the moment they look at you, because race is the only thing that is determinable without us having to open our mouths and waving our hands and running with legs, they can’t figure out if you were a brilliant 9 pointer in university till they let you speak, they can’t tell if you are a brilliant batsman till they see you bat, they can’t say if you are brilliant at poker till you play it, but only if they see you, they’ll tell you’re an Indian, because that is what God made you, and that is how he intended it to be….

Because you’ll always be an Indian, even if you take up American citizenship, you can only be an Indian. And atleast if not for anything else, even if you have no gratitude for the taxpayers who subsidized your education (I believe most of us here are from BITS/IIT system), you have to respect your Indian-ness because God meant it that way.

Now on the surface there seems to be a good counter argument, what if we were to do a plastic surgery and look like an american, then what ? Well, it’s stupid, but still, in that case you’ll never understand culture specific jokes/statements anything as such. And that would be very stupid, dressing like rappers and doing “Yo yo” on the american streets, we’ll only be out of place, the only thing we should be try doing is to be us, and be that well.
———————————————
till here already on the FB page

Me:@Karthik: Were not orphans, not born biologically? do they have not, mothers who carried them for months? What ever happened to the mothers unconditional love when she would leave it to an orphanage…Yes, she had her social circumstances which made her part…her “unconditional love is socio-economically circumstantial”… YES, you cannot talk of unconditional love to an orphan… which is my point there…the argument of the author fails…

Me: @Afroz, i do not see this as a subjective argument, i intend to show that the author has double standard.
I am not trying to change my ethnicity, neither am i denying that my race is obvious to guess. I am and will be a non-korean asian, for as long as i am here… there is no possibility or intention of changing that.. i most definitely respect my culture and appreciate it. that is the color and smell of me – i concur.

when i was born, it was not by my choice that i was born to my parents…nor did i choose my religion or my nation…i do not use the word ‘pride’ following nation or religion or ethnicity… because pride has to be associated with things that one accomplishes in ones lifetime, not by event of chance in a genetic accident (or your ‘God meant it that way’) prior to ones birth having no control or choice about which. i could have been born anywhere to anyone, but no here i am, with this set of society, and.. I am lucky, not proud to have a good upbringing… i m grateful to them, and to this country and its taxpayers for educating me. i respect them i adore them but then, i do not claim pride in it, because i m not proud to be 5’10 or if i have a cancer or if i was handicapped… you have to be proud abt things you achieve… the maximum you make of the given constrains of handicap,color, etc.(ultimate and universal being death), we all got one life, and it is painted with melanin of ethnicity…

Really then, are you even going to really bother abt it? because given that no matter who you are, and what your color is, you have constrains, specifically color in case of geographical reasons… height in some cases… rare genetic diseases…handicap…but universally everyone is bound to die…everything dies, but then, there is a resistance, there is hope in humanity to defeat it…to cheat death, disease, color, handicap…to change and bend the constrains to push them beyond break points. This, you see is true with what science is too, to push the limits of understanding, to know of the whole universe… the driving force of the idea is the fear of death or of perishing – the ultimate constrain…the resistance is knowledge or action of the combined individual humanity.. the question is whether you wish to contribute to which…will you sweat and give blood to this human endeavor? or rather lament / take pride in colors?… If you say the latter is important, then you are doing the same thing as a starving guy, complaining/cribbing, about his birth in poverty, without thinking or wanting to do anything about how or where to get his next meal. is the blind doing nothing? not learning the braille? is not the black contesting the presidential post? What is the first thing that occurs to you when you think of Neil Armstrong? honestly … is it the moon… or a white male…? Sachin reminds you of cricket first or Maharashtra?

you talk abt the color, what i talk of is sweat and blood it takes to wash that off, when you talks of is texture, what i talk of is its content, you talk of rough surfaces of materials, i am talking abt the strength of it and the annealing that it takes to make it strong.
————————————————-
my other comments…

What i hated the most in the dialogue, apparently the strongest point of the author, Is this cheap tactic of stating a good generalization followed by a bad one and ending in the worst … the sentimental inclusion of mothers love, which is very much valid in most cases…(exception of some orphans etc.) then follows a not-always-valid fathers case., what ever happened to mean men who beat up their wives and children… really?, then follows the wife’s argument…no really… if your wife cheated on you (or vice verse)…you’d still love her? i wonder where all the divorces come from…the author should tell them all this argument…on an other note wonder why ppl break up in relationships… so, they if in effect already know that their gf/bf are not the most ‘perfect’ yet get committed… and fucking leave…to shit-crib abt it to their best friends…its plain old mockery…it is nonsense…to call your sporty desires a relationship, then. coming back to the last of his arguments of country… since all the previous arguments are valid irrespective of the country…say i m a Sundaes author… re-writing the same book, except changing India, to Sudan…Come back to Sudan, where you belong among the almost-dead of hunger. come… that is where you belong… why should you leave… (a cute cat pic goes here)

Another masterful shit the author pulled through here, is this…he mentions grace with respect to mother, rich for the father, beautiful for the wife and cleverly escapes the need to mention what it is that is wrong with India…or what it is that he is expecting from his country… its like the open secret you have to guess… does he mean the corruption..? I will assume he does mean something dubious like that…then… he is expecting you to “ADJUST” to it… because he is propagating to you as if there is “NO OTHER OPTION” – “PRINCIPLE”… which is what i hate…. he mentions no where to heal the issue, no where is he urging/inspiring you to participate for the change.. instead he is patronizing you to bear with shit…he shoved shit right into your head when you were thinking about your mom…because you were born into it he says…while a responsible author should ask you to clean the shit…make you, revolt and demand for a change. the best this argument will do to you, is to make you come back and make you bear with the already existing and acknowledged shit without cribbing or complaining about it…and what i have been exhaustively saying is…. then …PLEASE…. SHIT THERE….

say:
I am the captain of a Somalian ship, in a very bad shape, ancestral wealth you see, over used and under maintained, slowly over time it started to sink. the ship is sinking, sailors are drowning, and I yell to my men, “Our fathers were not the richest persons in the world, but we will not choose any other father because of that, our mothers, not the most gracious, we do not choose otherwise, our wives are not the most beautiful, we do not divorce them, this ship is our ancestral wealth, it represents cultural glory of our past, we will not abandon this and choose that one (pointing to the still standing ship next to mine)… drown you all… this is where you belong…this is martyrdom…be patriotic… die for what has given you bread all your life…this is your destiny… take pride… suffocate… die… and you will be remembered…”, they yell back, “Aye Aye! Captain!”… and like..sorry love…pic.

the reason you choose a different country is because you suffer from suffocation of your abilities, a stampede of your creativity, and nonsense of bureaucracy… you hunger growth, and you will do what it takes. time is now to build new ships. better ones of steel…annealed and stronger…what ever it takes…to stay alive and better.

Virtues, like respect and love must be earned not imposed.
You must be greedy to excel in everything you will ever do.
Anything left to stagnate or settle, including Love, ceases.
You do not owe anybody anything other than you yourself your life.
The only principle, the only scale, is your life and your time. Measure everything to it.

- sadly, vikram lost pursuit of this conversation long ago…not expecting anyone to reach till here…if you did, bravo for bearing up with me.

I will continue to argue, My single point being, the authors this specific argument is flawed and manipulatively placed for readership. please post comments, I will append and post them with my comments …

(the images show here are cut in the sides, you have to open and view them in a different browser tab)

While i wait for my code to execute the insane loops, i will upload some of the trend searches that psych me. The funda of the google trends is simple, just normalized (per density)search counts. (as how google counts it)

read the notes below each image…

trend for “academics” – note the sharp dips at Christmas vacation, the broader ones are the summer vacation.

trend for “iit” – the first small peaks are the online announcements or online forms, the second sharp ones are when the results are declared.

trend for “yahoo, google” – surprisingly yahoo is over google. American users eh?

trend for “Facebook, Google, Twitter” – Facebook is THE thing, twitter beh…no wonder google introduced Google Buzz.

trend for “MJ, YSR” Death brings fame. YSR (ex-chief minister AP, India)

trend for “PC” – counts rise during Christmas/Boxing day. Gift me one too…

trend for “oil, dollar” – Something obvious is it? note the small peak in dollar right after the oil’s (the oil crisis followed by the rise in dollar value followed by recession)

trend for “Airtel, Bsnl, vodafone, Hutch” (just India).. see how Hutch fades into Vodafone!

also try…
porn, academics
India, Usa
Pc, Mac
Apple, Microsoft
bush, obama

I m in love with this…