Wednesday, January 23, 2013

       All rights reserved

Legitimacy of a birth gives us the utmost sense of belonging and how often has the swear word “bast****” been used to show disregard for somebody sham.
In every walk of life right from the birth of a child ,the word “original “ and not “cloned” has embryonic meaning.
Entering your favourite restaurant , how enticing it is to see the words “authentic” prefixed to the cuisine giving a gastronomical delight. As I evaluate a work of dissertation to earn my daily bread, the phrase” bonafide record”  elates me to an unknown level. I feel accountable and responsible to sign a declaration that says “whatever is stated is true to the best of my knowledge and belief”.The sedan named Verito assumes the product to be “veritable” more than anything else. There is always a pristine glory in a  genuine work of art.
  But on the other end of the spectrum is the constant fear of living in a world of duplicates. Spurious drugs, pirated DVDs,Copyright violation, blatant plagiarization , the list is seemingly endless.
  Man , in his pursuit of the legal tender has no qualms to replicate  it and produce counterfeit ,even playing with human lives by spurious drugs and adulterated food- we are a gullible prey in the clone world.
 The mad hunt for facsimile reproduction has culminated in the cloning of the human being himself as we are unsatisfied with the “original “ version by the creator.
Hypocricy. Double standards, treachery and fraud are part and parcel of our grind to survival and  “ORIGINAL” was indeed a welcome theme to the Indiblogger meet with the one and only HP and Harper Collins.

        All roads , on Sunday the 20th of January 2013, led to the hospitable environs of Fortune JP Celestial and when the bloke in French beard shook my hands warmly and said” Sunita , where have you been after the Surf meet?”I knew where I “belonged”....yes to the “true to life” Indiblogger family where no one is forgotten even after a 4 month hiatus.
The first few minutes were palpable as I entered into a maze of QR codes, I had downloaded the app in my smartie but as usual it failed me with the message that read”auto focus function”disabled!!!So there I was the uncivilized barbarian in total ruins amidst the galaxy of tech saavy dudes.
with trepidation, I chose a table normally preferred by the backbenchers while the QR codes made a mockery of me. Sipping on a drink, I was anxiously waiting for a familiar wave of hand and within minutes of my wish I was joined by this gregarious person with a headphone around his neck and soon A and me were in colloquial powwow.
  Karun and Nihal had the vivacious animated crowd letting their down in style to the rocking Deep purple song we were all going gaga joining in the chorus of “smoke on the water”.
 Anoop, in his ingenious fashion had the audience in a fervent disposition and set the ball rolling with the 30 secs of fame.
 There were no “Mark Anthonys” among the 200 odd and it was proved beyond doubt that accomplished writers are poor orators and adding insult to injury were the blogger heads idolizing cartoon characters! And to top it all , I paid the price for the late registration and missed out on my 30 secs and thus remained anonymous! My desperate show of arms, without being partial to both the sides went unnoticed and I sulked. We had moved on and this time to the dreadful black and white squares. The quizzical QR game was all fun and frolic as a good Samaritan with his smart device helped me in cracking the code of quotable quotes. The frantic search for the latter half of the quote ended in a nought and the brisk and nippy romped away with the beautiful books and useful USB drives.
The event was juxtaposed with freebies thrown every now and then , an amazing shining plated Suresh won a pendrive , I cursed my receding hairline, for the very first time , and wondered why it had not ended in a “moon rise”!
  Next, we transported ourselves to a make believe world of ‘Narnias’, ‘Harry Porters’ and the like , forming into groups of 15 we mimed the characters and the audience were in splits with sheer slapstick comedy.
    The high tea accompanied by savoury chaats and cookies was a welcome break to recharge for the “fertile” presentation by the 
 Hp crew. The power of persuasive account ignited the spark in us to do our valiant bit to prevent bogus, phony,pirated, spurious duplicates taking over our lives.
   The diadem of the spectacular event was the photo op session , the bloggers had a unique opportunity to have a free run and showcase original poses , the  un imitable  back side of a blogger winning the prize. The just a minute made us all feel small and belittled  by the eloquence of a 10 year old blogger who made mythical Ravan , a hero and Ram the villain.
  The celestial show ended with each one of us richer by the experience , carrying home  a strong conviction and a load of unforgettable memories.

...and here is my trademark intro which did not see the light of the day...

Me and Indiblogger
The power of two
In a celestial world
Among the stars
We envy the original
A class by itself  
A simple tap, bright an crisp
Versatile, mindblowing with cool sense
A spectre that Harps a spell
The ultimate ultra....
Envy x 2...
And this post comes to you from my Hp laptop!!!

Sunita Sriram

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

The Extract....
                        Melbourne to Madras

The Qantas flight was coming to a screeching halt on the dry arid runway of Meenambakkam and the sweet highly accented voice of the air hostess announced the arrival , rudely awakening me to harsh reality away from the lovely thoughts of my daughter , a replica of me,her Dravidian father , i cannot see her now! let alone talk to her...I slipped back the photograph into the wallet for the N th time...
A few thousand miles east, Valerine was rushing to the East India Club , she was glad that she had found her moorings back after wandering in oblivion for a decade, her mind was preoccupied with the calculation of the alimony while her heavily patterned knee length skirt fluttered in the breeze , wearing minimal makeup as always highlighting her attractive pulled eyes and cheeks , her hair brown and wavy styled to perfection , her prized possessions of two lovely daughters in tow .. yes she had discarded the garb of her dravidian avatar , finally....
On the left of the Australian coast, at her suburbian Mylapore home, Vidya was on her yearly vacation from Singapore working in a MNC bank..her amma preparing the alltime favourite Puliodare
The house was reverberating with the sound of Mridangam and Tampura, the aroma of freshly brewed filter coffee and hot idlis with sambar...
Bowing his head in reverence to his Guru as always Karthik was seen off at the door by his amma and he did his trademark salutation to the creator as he rushed to his Tennis classes at the Madurai Cosmopolitan Club...

The central theme...

Different backgrounds, cultures did not matter a bit , it was only love , a fatal attraction , blind to the world ...

A real story in flesh and blood...

This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.