The legilimens phone (Mind-reading phone for Muggle interpretation)

Do you know the difference between smart phones and smart people? They both have excellent processors. The smart phone processors can process many many 'What now?' scenarios to cope up with human impatience and attention span deficit, which is tactfully branded as multi-tasking. Smart people have minds that process many many 'What if?' scenarios simultaneously. The reason I pondered over this difference is a curious 'What if' case my mind processed. What if smart phones evolved into super phones? 

I wonder what super power my phone can acquire! Of course two things come to my mind immediately.
1. Batteries that never run dry or charge automatically and autonomously - I hear that technology is already imagining these possibilities and if they can imagine something, soon they shall make it happen. So I reject this for being within human reach and hence 'not super'. I have to think of something more super than the Pomegranate phone.
2. To wake me up promptly at the time I set my alarm to. Every time. - I have to reject this because this is even beyond super powers.

This leaves me with the next option, which I can safely claim to be 'super'. I want my phone to be a legilimens. For the sake of simple people who have not read the Harry Potter, I want my phone to be a mind reader. What if my phone can tell me what the other person is truly thinking when he/she is talking to me on the phone. Something like a lie detector packed into a phone in addition to the zillion gadgets like night vision cameras, intelligent personal assistants etc. Rather, I would like my phone to immediately detect three L's in conversations on top priority. Lies. Loans & Love.

AtoZ #19 - Stone Age

Stone Age

Salesman : Cutting-edge technology, Sir. 

Customer : Wow !

- GS

Image courtesy : Eden, Janine and Jim

Curious? Check out my introduction to the AtoZ blogging mission of six-word stories. 

Cheers,

GS

AtoZ #11 - Killer

Killer

Apparently slide#72 was killer. Nobody survived!

-GS

Image courtesy : Oliver Tacke

Curious? Check out my introduction to the AtoZ blogging mission of six-word stories. 

Cheers,

GS

AtoZ #10 - Job

Job

Nine to five. Countdown begins. 4:51!

-GS

Image courtesy : Global Reactions

Curious? Check out my introduction to the AtoZ blogging mission of six-word stories. 

Cheers,

GS

AtoZ #9 - Investor

Investor

Pun writer invested. Became laughing stock. 

- GS

Image courtesy : Simon Cunningham

Curious? Check out my introduction to the AtoZ blogging mission of six-word stories. 

Cheers,

GS

AtoZ #1 - Apple

Apple

Steve Serpent Jobs. Mission: Temptation. Accomplished. 

- GS

Image courtesy : Mick Amato

Curious? Check out my introduction to the AtoZ blogging mission of six-word stories. 

Cheers,

GS

The ultimate social game for the non-player

Thanks to Alan Cleaver for the image

Disclaimer: If you are a Mafia wars/ Glassdoor/ Farmville/ Criminal Case/ What-not enthusiast, you might find the content of this post 'hurting' your sentiments and if you can rally around with a strong army which can threaten chaos to law and order, you might even win a ban to my blog and give me great publicity. That way, I can improve my blog's followers from this meagre number to a healthy chunk. 

Every civilization starts with farming it seems. In retrospect, how fitting it seems to be ! If only people resisted to being drawn into agriculture and cattle rearing on computer screens a few years ago, we would have been living in a different planet now! Of course the Vice cities and the like would still have been around but those people would be innocuously killing and looting in solitude in their homes and at best through a LAN connection. And I would not have been receiving invitations to solve murder mysteries on social media now .... If only !

These game hosts refuse to learn even from the age-old wisdom transferred across generations. They missed their last chance when they all entered into their fancy Glassdoors. Nobody seemed to realise that those who live in glass doors should not throw stone at another. Boy! They were throwing invitations around like a storm, forget a stone. Once the glassdoor fad was gone and they emerged out of the door, there was no turning back. The latest one is the crime scene. Most people who claim to solve murders are people who can't find the glasses on the nose when they desperately search for it all around the place.

Luckily, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is not around to see everybody becoming a Sherlock Holmes now. If so, he should only be writing recipe books titled like 'How to become a detective in 30 days?' or 'Anybody can investigate' to find a living in the world today.

Point emphasized. Period.

(V)ada paavi !!

Foreword: This post is about a sticky situation I experienced in a North Indian city. To be precise, the city is Pune and I recently understood that people there tend to feel bad when some Southie calls them ‘North’ Indians. Well, please remember what Einstein had to say: ‘It’s all relative, brother’. I am a Hindi-illiterate South Indian whose Hindi knowledge is limited to a few movie names (courtesy: The Khans); ‘Keval ek run milega’ sort of cricket commentaries (courtesy: Doordarshan); some swear words (courtesy: Virat Kohli and Harbhajan Singh) and the ABCD stuff like ‘Thumara naam kya hai? Mera nam blah blah blah hai’ (courtesy: Margoschis Matriculation School , upto 7^th standard). Apart from the poor farmer who lives in that famous Hindi village – some Tamilians say his name is Ragu Thatha – I have no acquaintances either in the Hindi speaking land.

You might have read a few open letters in the blogosphere before and my introduction would have already created the urge in you to grab the nearest available Vel Kambu or lathi -depending on your location-  to prepare for battle. If that be the case, I kindly request you to drop them immediately and focus your mind instead on a degree kaapi or dhai lassi – again depending on your location – and then read on. This post is about a Vada paav and an Appavi (roughly translated to a poor innocent man in Tamil) based on a small language problem. If you still refuse to embrace ahimsa, read my epilogue, make sure you forget my name and immediately close this page.  

Once upon a time in the recent past, I got an opportunity to visit Pune for the first time in my life. The northern most place in India I had ever visited prior to that was Bangalore.  The city threw the usual surprises at me as any new place would do for a first timer. Only Pune seemed to have a unique style and flavour of its own to do so – the paan! It was omnipotent, like God. While I could see paan stains everywhere, I also witnessed another feature of the Almighty through my mobile phone. Just like God, my mobile service provider’s network signal also teased me in that big city. It would never show itself to me and just when I start to lose heart and contemplate atheism, it would give me a fleeting vision and then disappear. There was no network coverage even in the city’s main locations. Even if every friend is important to me, this restricted me from calling any of my friends when I am in dire need of location or translation assistance.

One piece less- The soupy situation

Are you a deal freak or a budget conscious big spender? Do you get daily SMS alerts from Snapdeal, Groupon etc.? Do you brighten up on seeing the 'unlimited Biriyani' offers online? Here is a soupy experience of mine which can tickle your funny bone and make you think twice about your choice of the 'unlimited biriyani' cook.

A few days back, I had heeded to a long-pending request (read murder threats) for a treat from my friends to celebrate a happy personal moment. Around 8 friends were invited to the list and I zeroed in on a hitherto unheard restaurant in T Nagar based on a 50% off deal through one of the above sites. One coupon will give us a 50% discount on a minimum bill of Rs 400. I had three coupons and had planned to satiate eight hungry men within Rs 600 (which is double without discount). As luck would have it, 5 of my friends withdrew citing various reasons at the last minutes. Two were stuck by a flu and the rest packed up on unavoidable last minute trips out of Chennai due to their girlfriend, alma mater and employer respectively.

On the D-day, the 3 of us who were match-fit reached the restaurant around dinner time. We appeared like the Indian team that toured England recently - depleted by injuries and absences - and in half-strength. At least team India manages some substitutes. However we were determined to make the missing men repent the lapsed treat. Fate had other plans!