A weekend wasted

Was caught up in work at office till around midnight on Christmas Eve. There was not a soul around except for the security guards and those who were watching the India - Sri Lanka cricket match on the television set in the cafeteria at the top floor. I had nothing to look forward to. I wasn't going home, thanks to the IRCTC website being mangled by the holiday traffic. And I wasn't going anywhere else either, thanks to the nearly empty bank account coupled with lousy foresight. The only good thing was that my room mate was around. His first Christmas away from family. Because he could not find train tickets, and because he was denied leave thanks to the resignation notice period rules from Cognizant. It was mostly a rum weekend. One of those wasted weekends when you get sick of the spirit itself. When you swear that you will not touch it again. Knowing full when that you would be back to your old ways when the bile subsides. And on top of that a heavy dose of motion pictures, on line streaming videos and Murakami's musical references.

Some of the songs which I must remember from this weekend are -

• The girl from Ipanema - Astrud Gilberto
• Norwegian Wood - The Beatles
• I am the Walrus - The Beatles
• Say good-bye to love - Kenna
• Toca's Miracle - Fragma
• Angie - Rolling Stones
• Danny Boy - Bing Crosby
• Secret Agent Man - Johnny Rivers

I think I am over exerting my weak, dazed and hazy memory. What are the movies which I watched over the last weekend of the year 2009?

• A Fish called Wanda
• Roman Holiday
• Jabberwocky
• Where the Wild Things Are
• Planet 51
• Law Abiding Citizen
• Surrogates
• The Blind Side
• Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf?

My mind's been corporatized. I am using bullet points everywhere. Talking of which, the Enfield Bullet entered Vijay Auto Clinic today for an open heart surgery, which should set me back by around fifteen big ones the coming year. What a beautiful start to the year 2010.

Birthday, Death & Birth

It was my team mate's birthday today. We had made plans for a small celebration in the evening. The cake was scheduled to arrive by afternoon.

The news of another team mate's mother having passed away reached us by afternoon. We put off the celebrations. I had last seen his mother in an ICU a few months back. I had to go see him.

While I was at the house of the deceased, I received a text message which informed me that an old friend of mine had become a father today.

The Castle Gate

'Rashomon' literally means 'the castle gate'. I didn't know that until a few moments ago. Moments. You never know how long a moment lasts. There is no way that you can measure a moment's duration, as moments are relative. This has given me a straight opportunity to explore the next topic of discussion which is about truth.

Truth can't really be measured. Truth is an illusion. Truth doesn't exist except in our beautiful minds. Remember the Kurosawa movie 'Rashomon'? That's what truth is about. Events register differently with each person. What you see and understand from watching a jumping frog, is not what I see and understand.

If there is no truth, there's no point in hunting for it either. One might as well go hunt the Yeti.

Mew

The time nears for the observer to act. To practise what he has learnt from patient observation and keen listening. The question is, how should the great human drama be dragged on?

The observer can add vital catalysts to the human interactions around him. Spicing it up or dressing it down. The observer prefers to observe. Still it's time to act. To unleash the actor within the observer.

The cat mewed at 13'O clock sharp.

Zombie

I was a zombie last night. Apparently I beat up my friend who came from Hyderabad and broke an umbrella. So I was told.

Nirvana

Normal life - The ups and downs happen. You are happy one day, and choking back tears the next. The unsymmetrical sine wave.

Nirvana - You suffer. Suffer like crazy. And then become crazy or be elevated to a plane of higher consciousness brimming with bliss.

What's the difference.

Problems, perspective and bigger problems

I was running through some of the memorable moments of 'Fight Club' (the movie) yesterday night and saw something which I immediately identified with. It hadn't made much sense the first time I saw it.

Narrator: After fighting, everything else in your life got the volume turned down.

I haven't been in many fights. Nor am I a proponent of fighting. The message I got yesterday was that if your mind is focused on one big thing, you handle the rest of the stuff in your life without really noticing them. You might be moving mountains without even noticing it, because your mind is focused on something else.

It could be something like a business idea which is brewing up in your mind, or a love interest (flaming or bust), or some pressing domestic issue. The mind is so focused on the issue that, you don't really pay adequate attention to the other things in your life. This can be good and bad.

The good part is that many seemingly alarming problems in day-to-day life become muted and unimportant, and you handle them in a routine manner. The bad side is when you are completely consumed by the burning idea or problem, you might ignore the seemingly mundane stuff and be punished for that.

A legal night ride

After a long long time, I took a bike, my bike out for a ride in the night. This ride was different from all the other rides I have had. It was a sad ride. It was a happy ride. It was an enlightened ride which started from apprehension and culminated in a regained confidence.

For the last nine months, I did not have my driver's license with me. It was kept in safe custody at the Tambaram Traffic Investigation Cell, due to an unfortunate accident which took place in February. The summons came last Sunday while I was out playing pool with my friends.

I appeared in the dock before a judge at the Tambaram court on Monday. I nodded my head to the semi-rhetorical questions asked, and it was decreed that I pay a fine as punishment for the accident. It was over in less than a minute. The nine months' wait was unbearable. A human life is created in nine months. I ended up reinvented, with my vision expanded just a bit more, my perspective a bit more adjusted to the realities of life.

I went looking for the Investigation Cell and found that it had been moved to Pallavaram. My license was sitting snug amongst the other seized licenses. It stood out in the crowd of the newly issued smart card licenses. My license is an old style book. Just like the registration certificate of my old bike. It has been seven years since the license was issued by the Kazhakuttom RTO back home.

As I was riding the thunder back home through the desolate roads of night time Chennai, the knowledge that I was riding legally again, felt strange. I was driving much slower than I used to. The experience of one mishap and its fallout had changed my driving style a lot.

There was a traffic police routine check near Madhya Kailash as I was chugging past. The cops stopped the cars which were moving side by side with me. I looked at their faces quizzically checking if I had to stop as well. They waved and let me go.

There was a time when I used to cringe at the sight of the traffic police. That was the time when I used to drive non-TN registration bikes or modified bikes. They would often catch me on those, and fine me. I have always ended up greasing their hands before let me go. The accident and the procedures related to it resulted in me interacting with the men in white and khaki, at a different plane. Suddenly, they ceased being the heartless demons that my mind had earlier made them out to be. They were also normal human beings trying to make their way through the great tragic-comedy of life.

I have also gained more patience and a better understanding of the resilience of the human body under high speed impacts with hot metal. I wonder where this leads to.

Grief, bereavement and death

Today started off and went by like most normal days. The only difference was that I realized late in the night that two of my friends' friends died today of different causes. One was a suicide, and the other was an accident. I had failed to understand their gloom initially.

I guess I have desensitized myself a lot from grief, bereavement and death. I had gone to office, business as usual, on the day of my father's funeral, and no one in office ever suspected that anything was amiss, except for Brato, to whom I had given out a pretty straightforward clue. I, however, told him later that nothing was wrong, which was the truth, since that was my state of mind then.

Today, the 21st of October, 2009, presented a different challenge altogether. I am helpless in front of my friends' grief. It hurts me that I can't really soothe them, or take away their pain. And that hurts me more that the death of someone dear.

My world view is pretty skewed, owing to a skewed upbringing. I've come to accept death as inevitable and mostly unexpected. Death is always waiting around the corner for all those who are living.

I am a lucky chap. I've had too many lucky escapes from the Grim Reaper. Starting from a near miss with a transport bus in 1993 to the latest motor cycle mishap in 2009. A string of possibly fatal accidents and illnesses have left me scarred, but alive. I wonder why I am getting life extensions while many others who truly deserve extensions, should have got them. As with other things, the world is unfair in this arena as well.

Blessed are those who die, for they get to know the reality beyond death, if there is any, and because they shall be remembered as they were, if they live in the memories of the living.

Amen.

Potential Energy

A locomotive engine may be used to run a bike for a life time.

An entire life may pass away in such a manner.

On the zodiac

Introspection

Of late, I have realized that I am exhibiting many of the factory Virgo characteristics. I have become a workaholic. I am happy pursuing perfection in little things, and am critical of sloppy efforts, even my own. I am a straight shooter. I am curious. I take criticism badly. Ever since I remember, I used to become satisfied by helping others in matters which have no gain to offer. Recently, I came to know that, that is also a Virgo trait.

This is distressing. If these traits are universal, then it means that your personality has already been charted out by the stars, and you are deceived into a belief that you are unique. Of course, you are unique! The point being that there might be a lot of characteristics which you might share with your fellow astrological siblings.

There is this fellow Brato at office, who once told me that the world can always be split into two categories of people. Let me tell you how, with a few examples thrown in for effect.

There are two kinds of people -

• Those who like pepper on their omelettes, and those who don't.
• Those who milk female camels, and those who don't.
• Those who are alive, and those who are not.

Ok. I suck at examples, but I guess the message must have reached across to your mind. Diving back to the zodiac story - there are two kinds of people - those who are zodiac, and those who are not!

And I guess, I am in the first category, or it must be a coincidence. One of those mathematical improbabilities which life throws up.


Overcoming nature

Assuming that the zodiac traits are natural, the pro-nature, go-nature folks should argue that one should not go against nature. My stance is that if you fit into one of the astrological profiles, then you have a ready made SWOT analysis at hand. You could play around with that and improve your strengths and overcome or hide your weaknesses!

I don't know how it will work out, since even though I am a good preacher, I am a novice practitioner. I will have to see how things come along.


Astrological prejudices

Ever since I found that I am exhibiting Virgo characteristics, I have developed this new (and annoying habit) of viewing new acquaintances as zodiac templates. Some fit in to their profiles, and some don't. I am apprehensive of certain zodiacs. Apprehensive of decent people. What a joke.. Have to get rid of this prejudice through voluntary mental intervention.

Hockey Player

An old man in a lungi was sitting across me at the ECR Tea Shop, talking to his old friend. Later when he left, the tea shop proprietor's son told me that the old man was part of the Indian hockey team once.

The jumping Gnat

While the mind was jumping around in darkness, searching for meanings within memories.


The Misfits -

I like to think that we are a very confused generation. Most of the major changes in our way of life happened during our high school time.

Half our lives belonged to another era. We transitioned into something new.

The new kids...they are of this era. They seem to belong. Maybe we are the misfits! The Neanderthals, who are fending off the new humans.


The Lonely Men -

I feel that only a very few simple people in ths world would truly be not lonely. ('Simple' is not meant to be pejorative here.)

People without secrets.
People with uncomplicated lives.
People who do not think too much.
People who live with their next door friends and family all their lives.

All others are lonely.

Even the simple ones would feel periodically lonely. My personal feeling is that everyone becomes lonelier as they grow older. One may choose a life partner, one has friends, one has blood relatives. Yet, every man is an island.


Too many people are dying -

Too many people i know are dying.

My mom's brother, my uncle had died just a few months ago, from cancer. My neighbour died around a couple of months back, again from cancer.

MJ died. I felt sad about MJ's death. I am pretty unfeeling when it comes to death. I hadn't even flinched when I heard about my father's death.


The monkeys on your bike -

We go to the shade of a great banyan tree at the other end of our office to smoke cigarettes in peace. There would always be a set of motorbikes parked under its shade.

There are sturdy looking brown creepers which hang down from the banyan tree. It was as if the tree wanted to reach back to its roots.

There are a group of monkeys which hang around there, literally. The little ones will hang from the vines holding each other's tails, land on the bikes' seats, and then jump up to the vines again.

Keeps you on your toes.

Camera phones

I used to have this view that a product should stay true to its function. That cameras should be cameras, walkmans be walkmans and phones should be phones.

I scoffed at the advent of the camera phone. I thought of it as something suited more for the needs of voyeurs rather than as an innovation.

I still liked cameras. The bad thing about cameras is that the good ones are bulky. And the little ones are user friendly. But they take up additional baggage space, and by the time they are brought out and readied, the moment you'd wanted to capture would be long gone.

And one day my trusty old Nokia conked. (I think that's what happened. I have a very dazy memory)

Hence arose the need to get a new phone. I looked high and low and finally decided to go for a mobile with the features of a camera, music player and a USB storage device.

There were simply too many products in town, and most of them fitted the bill. Which takes me back to 'Casino Royale'.

I was in Bombay when Casino Royale had released in India. There was a lot of brands' ads embedded in the movie. Be it the Aston Martin or the Sony Ericsson. Bond was using Sony Ericsson K800 AND K790 CyberShot models in that movie.

Product placements.. They sure know how to plant subliminal messages.

Sony Ericsson K790i is a pretty good phone. K800i was a bit more expensive. The cheaper option was taken! There was one more model called the K810 which was more compact. But the classic looks of the K790i had me at first sight.

Serving me strong for quite some time now it has been. Through rains and impacts. Through extreme malhandling. It even fell into a bucket of water once. I don't know how it has survived so far!

I carry the phone with me usually, and when a photo moment pops up, I whip out the cam phone and click it. A much simpler procedure than unzipping a camera, taking off the lens cover, etc, etc. Now I have started to think that every thing should be integrated.

Maybe they will integrate a fridge with the phone in the future.

Helter

Morning ride to AM Jain College, Meenambakkam.

Slept in the grass meadows ignoring ant bites.
The heat was permeating everywhere.
The ride back was through hot air.
Very hot air.

More fuel.
For the belly and the tank.

Off to Chennai Central, and back.
To drop the Fox.

Rain at Perambur.
Blazing in Chennai.

Hangout with Sas at the Broken Bridge.
Forrest Gump with the guys.

Why the hell am I not tired..

Cliches

The same old theme. Blasted over and over again. Because it's tried and tested.

That's so predictable.

It's insulting to demean your audience with the same old shit wrapped in new glitter.

Maybe it is because every year a new generation rises up. A generation who are not exposed to the cliches. Maybe, they are the audience that they are looking out for. New beings, who won't identify the pattern of the cliche.

I guess it makes sense to continue with the cliches.

The bird man

On February 15^th 2009, P was wandering around the promenades of Pondicherry with a single objective in his mind. 

The time was 10.30 am, and the sun was blazing down on the boulevards with unminced vengeance. Even the sea looked like a giant cauldron of mercury, shining and writhing under the watchful eyes of its solar master. 

P was pacing along the beach clicking pictures with his old Sony Ericsson mobile phone, trying to while away time. He desperately wanted to turn the clock to 11.00 am, the time when the beachside bar would throw open its dark doors. 

After a while he was bored. The time simply refused to pass by. Moments were beginning to stretch into infinite slices of time. He had already strolled past the front of the bar 5 times then. Here he was, returning again, wishing that the clock had struck eleven then. 

The time was 10.55 am on the cellular phone. The bar showed no signs of life. Dejectedly, he was making his way back to the black and rocky beach when his eyes fell on the old man sitting under a tree opposite to the bar. 

His hair was yellow. The sort of yellow one gets by not cleaning white hairs for a long time. The same applied for his tiger moustache. His eyes were striking. They belonged to a cat. And, P never saw him blinking. 

There was a deck of cards roughly arranged in a heap, lying on the cloth matt in front of him. Two parrots loitered.around in a small wooden cage to his right. P wanted a break and he thought – what the hell, it might be fun. 

The astrologer was a new age merchant who believed in the prepaid concept. Quickly, P parted with Rs.10 from his wallet, so that the astrologer’s time slice would not cut into the bar opening time. 

The bird man deftly arranged the thick cards in a deck in front of him and let out a parrot – Kaamatchi, from its wooden cell. He chanted in Tamil while Kaamatchi bit off one card after the other, and laid them in a heap in front of his cat-eyes. 

P was watching all this intently. He chuckled in his mind when the man made an almost inaudible cluck and the parrot started circling around the matt with the card which was in its red beak. 

A bird with a pea-brain was about to help decipher P’s future, present and past. The interpreter of bird fortunes opened up the card to reveal 3 pictures in it. 

Picture 1-The vagabond

It was a faded black and white picture of a young hippie puffing on a cigarette (?) in some unknown part of the world. The interpreter started chanting in Tamil about the significance of the picture. P could only understand half of what he was saying.

“Thou shalt not belong to any place on earth. Not even in thy home town shalt thee be accepted as its own. Thou shalt remain a wanderer, and a vagabond. ”

 

Picture 2- The bleeding Foot 

Here was a picture which showed a bleeding foot trampling over a bowl of food. There was a thorn or an iron nail, stuck in the food causing it to bleed.

“Thou shalt face obstacles wherever thou goest. Thou shalt never accumulate any wealth or belongings. Thou shalt never have the fortune of living with thy family in one place.”

 

Picture 3-The Dead man and the Weeping woman 

This was another interesting picture. A lady in a red sari was kneeling at the foot of a prostrate dead man.

“Thou shalt take care not to get too involved with any woman. That would hasten thy death.”

 

SUMMARY 

“Thy life is surely affected by Saturn and this is going to be the most difficult period of your life“

 

SOLUTION 

The astrologer produced a square metal sheet with arcane markings etched in its surface. It had the star of David in its centre. He told P that this sheet could be his for a trivial sum of Rs 250. All P had to do was to wear it on his arm, and take a dip in the bay of Bengal, and all his troubles would be over. The bird man’s cat-eyes fixed his gaze upon P who was looking shocked. P ignored this suggestion and made his way back to his hotel room, thinking that this was the first time that he had an encounter with an astrologer who was a reverse psychologist. 

He felt weighed down by the findings of the bird and their interpretations by its master, in spite of his professed non-belief in them

The virus is Alive!

Rapid HIV evolution avoids attack

On seeing this bit of news on BBC, I was filled with apprehension whether HIV is the designated scourge of Gods for the 21st century.

A long time ago, I was taught that viruses are not 'alive', while bacteria are. Viruses are mere arrangements of molecules which invade host cells and attempt to replicate themselves.

A virus entrenches itself in the building blocks of life and attempts to reproduce itself. If faced with opposition from immune systems, the virus evolves to protect itself from attack.

There are some striking observations which can be made here -

1. Is this not, the best testament to Darwin's theory of evolution?
2. Keeping the assumption that viruses do not have 'life', does this mean that non-living entities can evolve on their own?
3. If an entity evolves, defends and reproduces, isn't this sufficient to prove that it is 'alive'?
   

Disclaimer - I am no expert in biology or any-ology. These are just reflections made from the couch of poison. Please feel free to correct me, if I am wrong!

A soldier named M

Here's the story of how me and my friend SK met the soldier(allegedly, a) named M.

We'd gone for a wedding at Edappazhanji that particular Sunday. She was our classmate and I couldn't miss the chance of an impromptu reunion with the college crowd, in spite of having an arm in a sling.

The nikkah went fine, and later I had the opportunity of devouring a traditional Keralite sadya using a spoon. At the wedding, I had to explain the story of the injuries and the sling to too many people, and finally I started hearing myself telling them with a wink, that slings are the latest fashion in Tamil Nadu.

When I'd stepped up to catch a glimpse of the newly weds, an old man in a white jooba accosted me on the dais, jokingly asking whether my bandages were the result of a fist fight somewhere. He was dramatically relieved when I said that all I'd had was an accident.

After the wedding, SK and I got out of the venue, and hailed an autorickshaw to Vellayambalam, as the driver would only drop us till there. From there, we caught another autorickshaw, whose driver was oddly verbose and reeking of alcohol.

He assured us that there was no need for alarm, as he was the most cautious driver in the city, even when drunk. And he was - drunk and cautious.

He told us that he was a soldier in the Indian army belonging to the 1237th Madras regiment. He said that he knew that his time had come nigh. That he'd sinned a lot in his life, and because of that he was being sent to Ladakh for his next stint. He was drinking and driving just to taunt the police, as army men were out of police jurisdiction.

The man said that he was thirty three years old. He'd two more years of mandatory service with the army. He told us that we wouldn't understand the fury of a bullet leaving the muzzle of a rifle. He kept on repeating that he would be coming back in a coffin the next time around.

He had been driving the autorickshaw around the city, giving free rides to people, in the hope that it would balance out his karma, to counter his sins. Our ilavasai taxi.

I don't know the veracity of his claims. I hope that he has a good life, if he does not get annihilated in Ladakh, as he'd thought then.

A small beginning from the bottom of the stinking pit

Fate has been reliably monstrous all the time. It knows not the language of mercy or fairness. It plods on like a senseless animal. No vision, hearing or perception. A being focused on its own fateful steamroll.

My luck has seen its ups and downs over the years. I am good with people, and try to choose the least hindrance and maximum assistance path, at all times possible, when with the people I care about. And I care about way too many people.

Yet fate, the masterless bitch has made me ruin a ripe life, and I don’t feel the slightest pang, ethical or moral about it. All I care about now is how to get up and keep moving on. To what end, I do not know. Everything ends in death. I wish that death were synchronized for all beings on earth. A vast cloud descending on the planet, and quietly snuffing out all life on the planet, in a blink. Life would be simpler, when its existence ceases.

Alas I’ve been left alive to live and allegedly bear my karma. One’s life is hardly one’s own. One only has an illusion of control over it. Every little decision that we make, is dependent on an unimaginably long chain of events kick-started, perhaps at the beginning of existence.

When the illusion crumbles occasionally, when battered bloody, by fate, life appears to be a horrid, ugly and pointless mess. Yet, all intone that life must go on. As if it is a juggernaut of limitless proportions.

I understand that the illusion of control concept rings a bell with Hinduism’s ‘maya’. It too, is about the veneer, and how to break through to reality.

It’s amazing how I change with circumstances. Truly, an amazing creature. When touched unawares, I am startled like a wild rabbit. Yet, I can grin and bear the rough scrubbing of open wounds, and the bite of iodine on them afterwards, feeling strangely dissociated from pain.

I can move my fingers today. They were not working a week back, when I had a road traffic accident, involving a very old jaywalker. I heard that his leg was broken from the collision. I may be found to be guilty under the Indian penal code, for I’ve been charged with negligent driving, thanks to a plethora of hostile witnesses. Fate. The way it happened was cruel.

A big white utility vehicle was in my left lane, and a three foot high cement divider was on my right. It was an unlit road, and the time was around 8.45 pm. The old man appeared suddenly into my constrained path from the front of the white vehicle. I swerved hard to the right hitting the divider to avoid him. Alas, he too had jumped towards the divider.

I have never hated fate so much, before in my life. Life has been a slow progression of events, going from bad to worse, in each iteration. And I wonder whether I will be able to withstand all that it will keep throwing in my path to inevitability. I hope that fate allows me to choose my death, when the time comes. Maybe it will.

I thank all gods for keeping my mind intact, and for giving me so many good friends who didn’t have any qualms taking risks for me. I wonder what it is that they find worthwhile in me.

Two days back S had called up in an inebriated state, and told me that he knew that I could pull through this. That I can handle this. That he has never advised me before, because of his confidence in me. I hope that I will find the strength to fight on, and not let him down now..

Problems are daily fare for me. I have been facing them left and right for quite some time now, with unenviable tenacity. I am now faced by the sharp doubt whether this made Fate upgrade the difficulty level of my life.

Right now I am unsure about how to gather the tattered remains of ‘my’ life, restart living and make it worthwhile. I lack direction sorely. I have had enough of this wallowing in this slimy drool of self pity. I am going to try and face things one obstacle at a time. Divide and conquer, as my boss says from time to time.

Thumper time

The thumper's come...at last. And went right back into the workshop for new brakes and engine oil.

Riddled with bullets

I don't think that I have had a real obsession about anything in my short life. That was not to be. I got hooked to a mechanical monster sometime around last Christmas.

Bullets have always made me feel insecure, about riding one, that is. The size of a Bullet was a major concern, and then the endless stories of riders getting their shins broken simply due to kickback from the bike, when it was started in an improper fashion. Simply put, I didn't have the guts to find out an opportunity to tame the archaic beast.

Then came Christmas, and with it came a Bullet. Podi had bought Putt's old Bullet 350 Std, and he rode it from Calicut to Bangalore to Madras, over a weekend, with Nitu as the co-rider. The KL 18 thumper had finally landed in Chennai, and I got a chance to try it out, and was hooked. So was Paapu. He got himself a brand new 350 Std from the Besant Nagar Royal Enfield showroom the last month.

I wanted to get me a thumper, but as always, the pauper remains a pauper. Buying a new bike was out of the question, since I couldn't take a loan, for fear of losing my job before I can pay it back. So the decision was easy. The only option was to go for a second hand thumper.

Went and checked out a Nagercoil registration 1995 model old school thumper yesterday evening, with Roy, Nitu and Thoma. It rode fine, albeit with its idiosyncrasies. Maybe I too will bite the bullet one of these days.

Long long time ago...

February 3rd, 1959 - Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and Giles Perry (The Big Bopper) Richardson, Jr., in a plane crash in 1959.(wikipedia)
Some people called it, the day the music died.

October 1971 - Don McLean releases his hit single - American Pie, with references to the day the music died, and other cryptic subtleties, commemorating Buddy Holly.
When asked what "American Pie" meant, McLean replied, "It means I never have to work again." (wikipedia)

I have listened to this particular song on numerous occasions - sad, happy, despondent, ebullient, on the death bed, et al. I guess I'll have to live with this evergreen tune buzzing in my head at random moments of escape from being tone deaf!