Buying a bike!

Hmmm, buying a bike is always a difficult decision. Being young, upwardly mobile (hopefully) and desirous of female attentions, you are pulled apart by the forces of economy and future matrimony! So, one day I decided to be the smart one and shortlist all the models that I could possibly desire and own.

The great Indian bike scene has a whole gamut of bikes for the petrol crunchers. These fall in the sub 100 CC, to the 110CC category. These are the bread and butter of the motoring companies. Staid looking cheap to own and run (in most cases) these usually have no oomph value, depending solely on their ability to stretch a buck. So this whole category was out first go.

The second segment seems to be the executive segment. The 125 - 135 CC bikes. These are slightly better looking, more equipment levels and definitely more power. Can even make it to 100Ks some times with no hustling and lots of space. Naahhh!

The third is the executive segment. This is the 150 CC segment. With names like Pulsar, Unicorn, Apache and Achiever doing the rounds. Promising mileage and power, these are slightly larger bikes, more comfortable and more powerful. These bikes touch 100Ks regularly with no issues at all. The main issue with these bikes is that they are the preferred choice of every wannabe biker on the street and one tends to get lost in the crowd. The other problem is that at my current salary levels, these are the only sensible choice! Sense and sensibility, that’s more Jane Austen than Harley Davidson I suppose.

The fourth and the last segment, is the segment where all the larger bikes fall. These range from 180 CC to anything like 1000CC and up. Depending on the Moolah. These bikes are fast, they make a statement. They are soul bikes. They make you start clubs when you purchase one. (no wonder, some of these bikes are more expensive than real estate) . They make you race, rally and be the nature spirit, all while commuting to work. These are the old bikes, the Royal Enfields, the Big Yamahas, Hondas and Suzukis.

My heart also came over a Royal Enfield. it’s a 350 CC, 18 BHP. 5 speed mammoth of a bike. Weighing in about 180Kgs, it has gas shock absorbers, a disc brake and an electric start. It sounds like heaven and seats two as if on a royal palanquin. Its smooth on the roads, heavy on the pockets. It is temperamental, moody and great looking. Lots of chrome and a red finish. The best thing about it is, that my whole family is against it. Right from my nearest ancestors to distant twigs of the ole family tree, like cousins second or third removed.

So what will I do? What every smart man does before he goes and buys a bike. Ask my girl friend!

My brother's recipe for Chocolate Fudge.

Mom and I were talking one day of old times. If there is one thing mom likes, then it is any of my friends praising her cooking. She makes a mean chocolate fudge and it is an eternal favorite in our friend circle.

One fine day, mom had just finished a batch and we had just finished that batch, when my bro’s friend piped up, Aunty, how do you make this stuff any ways. While my Mom modestly was murmuring that it is nothing, just something she picked up, my Brother said, its not that tough, any one can make it.

Now his friend was of the serious kind and therefore enquired as to the secret processes that helped manufacture such precious foods. Here is what my bro had to offer:

Ingredients:

1. One packet Cocoa powder (dark chocolate, Cadbury make)
2. One tin condensed milk, my recommendation, Nestle.
3. One packet white butter (Not the Amul one)
4. Sugar to taste
5. Nuts and other assorted dry fruits like raisins etc
6. A wok to cook it all in, hopefully something that is really old and has been used for such enterprises before. (Theory being, if the tools themselves knew what to do, then the human would not have to do much.)

Method:

1. Take Wok out of the shelf. Dust it, if you are up to it, wash it too. Other wise a thorough dusting is enough (heat sterilizes).
2. Take butter out of the plastic or steel container in which it is usually stored. Rinse it once to start it melting nice and easy.
3. Open the tin of Nestle condensed milk.
4. Place wok on the stove.
5. Light the stove using matches or any electric lighter usually kept handy in all kitchens.
6. Empty tin of Nestle on to the wok.
7. Start stirring gently using a brass spoon, for that earthy flavor.
8. Using a spoon, spoon the butter in to the milk. Use the thumb rule; if you think it is too much, then it probably is. Go easy on the butter it, will be better for your cholesterol.
9. Add as many spoons of sugar as you feel like. Sugar never killed anyone.
10. Cut the packet of Cocoa powder. Use sharp scissors; they work best. Avoid personal injuries. In case of accidents, please do not forget to turn the stove off.
11. Empty the pack in to the wok. Start mixing vigorously. The mixture should be of a thick consistency.
12. Add nuts to taste.
13. Now the most important step. Go to the house temple and Pray.
    

In case your prayers are answered and you have succeeded in making the fudge, please call me.

I think this still works.

Potty Trainers!

It all started in a board room in Japan. It is a big corporation with presence in almost all spheres of industry. From electronics, automobiles to music. One newly inducted member of the decision making team had finally scraped enough courage to put forward his favorite idea. With a lot of bows and respectful intonation, he convinced the samurais of the company to assign a measly budget almost equal to the annual GDP of Seychelles. For potty trainers.

Off he went scrambling to the vast glass building that housed the R and D section of the organization. There he sought out another young inductee. They sat down and designed a revolutionary new machine. A plastic potty that played music whenever you used it. Initial cost estimates put the production costs at under a dollar and about ten dollars at advertising and publicity. This was good, very good. Initial market surveys indicated that they had a good chance of selling it for not less than $300. That’s about almost a three hundred percent profit. The samurais would be pleased.

When the product was through the development stage, they encountered a small problem. What to use as music for the potty. The R and D guy was a huge fan of an obscure artist, who at one time was so popular that there was scarcely a country which had not heard or hummed his songs. Back to the main office and searched the company’s database for records of the artist’s association with the company. Not surprisingly, he was on the company’s rolls. So a song (which at its time was No.1 in U.S, U.K and other music charts.) was selected and incorporated in the system, which with usual Japanese efficiency had quite good music quality. Even for $1 they built good stuff.

So, as part of the marketing blitz, a young Japanese American was sent off to the artist’s home town to secure his approval. He was sent with a simple directive, get it. He needed no other. So the Artist’s agent was called and a meeting set up. When the idea was proposed, the artist actually exploded. But, the agent knew he wanted the money. So he got him to agree and thus the Potty trainer was actually ready for marketing. Quickly an ad was made with the artist promoting. The rationale being that the fans who had listened to him would now be old enough to have young children needing potty training.

The product was a huge success. Millions and millions of potty trainers were sold in the US. Pretty soon if your child was not potty trained on this potty trainer, he could not be admitted to a school, the neighbor’s child’s birthday party or in to any restaurant, airplane or public place. Soon, there was an ancillary business of nannies who certified the presence of potty trainers in homes and vouched for the habits of their young charges.

It became so huge that soon there was a backlash against it. The people oppressed by the frequent price revisions and legislations denying the pottily underprivileged access to schools and library rioted on the streets. The government finding it cheaper to pass legislation to restrict potty trainers than fighting its own public, soon passed a bill. The samurai, shrugged and went back to counting his trillions in peace.

Pretty soon the product passed out of the minds of the people and normal ways of teaching toilet habits to children resumed. In the mean time, with the money accrued by endorsing the trainer, the artist hired a great new song writer and PR company. His fame rocketed. For another fifteen years he went on making music, before retiring and counting his millions in peace. With a little PR and money, he soon got MTV to give him a life time achievement award.

The day arrived, the award ceremony was the largest yet. About a 100,000 teens were there in the stadium, chanting and dancing and generally enjoying the show. At the end of it all, when it was announced that the Life Time award went to the artist, they all started wildly calling, “Song, Song, Song”

The artist, pleased as punch, decided to sing his most popular song ever. He signaled to his team, (kept ready for just this contingency) and the opening bars of the song started. There was a stunned silence, the artist pleased at the reception he was getting, launched into the song with full gusto. Soon, the stadium was filled with sounds of zippers and rustling cloth, when the artist opened his eyes, he saw a 100,000 teens showing their training right then and there.