Cola Anyone?

A friend sent me the following joke.

A salesman of a Cola company returns from his Middle East assignment.
A friend asked, "Why weren't you successful with the Arabs?"
The salesman explained, "When I got posted in the Middle East, I was very confident that I would do well as Cola is virtually unknown there. But, I had a problem. I don't know Arabic. So, I planned to convey the message through three posters...
First poster: A man lying in the hot desert sand...totally exhausted.
Second poster: The man is drinking our Cola.
Third poster: The man is now totally refreshed.
And then these posters were pasted all over the place.
"It should have worked!" said the friend.
"The hell it should have!” said the salesman. I didn't realize that Arabs read from right to left"

I commented that the salesman had told the truth, inadvertently!

I came across this article a few days ago.

Here is the gist of the article.

Colas have never been known as being healthy. Cola consumption leads to caries, bone loss, diabetes and problems with metabolism. But the evidence is building that excessive consumption of cola can lead to Hypokalemia - low levels of Potassium in the blood - which can cause life-threatening muscle paralysis, says Moses Elisaf, an intern at the University in Greece’s Ioannina.

Cases of excessive cola consumption are not isolated. The per capita cola consumption in the US is a whopping 212 liters.

Here is some more in English.

Who is Taking Whom for a Ride?

I am a bit of a board reader. Mark the spelling. It is b-o-a-r-d, not b-o-r-e-d.

I have been an Indian Oil customer for a long time. I have no idea why. I always look for an Indian Oil bunk to buy petrol.

Recently, the advertisement boards in the regular Indian Oil bunk that I go to caught my eye, especially, the parts of the advertisement boards in kannaDa, or at least, what is supposed to be kannaDa.

Look at these pictures. When did for (ಫಾರ್) become kannaDa? One particular word ichidana (ಇಚಿದನ) was perplexing. That is a word that I had not come across. Kittel was consulted. The revered Reverend did not know it either. Then the bulb went on. The word is indhana - (ಇಂಧನ) - fuel!

Now who is the culprit here? The advertising agency? The translator the ad agency hired to get the English copy into kannaDa? The man who composed it on a computer for printing? On the whole, IOCL has been taken for a ride. What is the use of an advertisement if no one understands it? More so, no one CAN understand it.

Should I have second thoughts about continuing to be a loyal IOCL customer? I am still thinking. Not just because I do not like a language being mutilated like this. If a company has such scant respect for details . . .

I will mail the link to this post to the head honchos of Corporate Communications and Marketing of IOCL. I wonder what they will do.

Now "enjoy" the pictures below:

EkAMtate is a noun form of the noun EkAMta!


ಫಾರ್! That is a good one. jenuvin and aayil! Great!

ichidana!

Are they selling fuel and oil or are they selling a skin cream like Itchguard?

Now, what does that mean. Definitely not the kannaDa version of the English copy below it!

Anti-Blogging

The former (thank you) president of the US of A George Bush divided the world into two camps. His notoriously dumb "Either you are with us or against us" seems to have caught on, however. By that world view this post must be classified as the name suggests.

I read an interview in German with a successfull authoress about blogging. She is swearing off blogs because of her own reasons. When I talked about this to Shruthi, she asked me if I could translate it for her and here I am. It is not a very good translation, but, all the important things are there.

So, here you go Shruthi!

Atheists' Call

I recently translated an article from German.

The gist: Most holidays in Germany are Christian holidays. There is a demand for a non-Christian holiday! You can read the full (practically) text here.

Disclaimer: The text is not well edited. I may do it over time but it has all the important facts.

Older? Yes. Wiser? . . .

Some time ago, I had a full head of hair. Ah! English is funny. Imagine my head with hair where the brain should be!!

"Some time ago" has a comforting ring to it. Does not reveal how long ago it was. I have to admit that it was a long time ago, anyway.

Somewhere along the line, I started losing hair. But, I did not lose sleep about it because I had lots of it, hair I mean. Losing sleep would only make things worse perhaps. No? Definitely, my hair line was receding. Being an optimist, I thought "less hair to comb" - in contrast, a pessimist would have thought "more face to wash" as the old joke goes.

One summer evening, it started raining, suddenly. Typical summer showers. Huge drops of water hit my head. As I was hurrying towards the nearest shelter, I heard some funny noises close by. Really close. I realised with shock that it was the sound of the water hitting my head. How could that be? What was all the hair doing? I was used to my hair getting wet with the scalp still dry. Of course, that is an exaggeration but not by much.

That evening when I reached home, I looked at the back of my head with the help of two mirrors to find that I had a bald patch where the whorl used to be. Oh ho! But, who cares. If you are bald, you are bald. So?

Continuing the hairy story the next unkind cut was that my moustache started greying. Not the hair on my head. My barber was sympathetic. He asked a question. How is it that the hair that is some fifteen years younger has started greying when the hair on the head is still black? He answered his own question. It is like the "modern" generation. Not very tough . . .

Over time, the moustache got greyer and greyer. Someone asked me why I did not dye it. I said, "I would rather die than dye" and was feeling pretty pleased about my wordplay when I was asked, "Then, why do you dye your hair?" Me? Dye my hair? Oh no. I had to pick out the few hairs that were grey on my head and show them that I did, in fact, not dye.

With all this, I still felt young. I believed (and still believe) in the adage: Age is a question of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it does not matter. I don't mind. (Proof? Here it is: Not long ago some six of us, colleagues, were in the Netherlands for three months. I was the only one who went out every weekend, come rain (almost always) or shine (the remaining time), and saw a lot of places. The others were either tired, or not interested. I was the oldest of the six. QED)

In spite of the bald patch, now larger, and a grey moustache, now trimmed so short that it is like the Tundra from the earlier Amazon basin, when some PYT called me uncle I looked around to see who was being addressed and then found that I was the only one around! By the time I was getting used to this came a kick you know where. We were in Tekkadi and there was this lady having trouble with an incessantly crying child. I have a way with children, other than my own of course, and tried to distract this crying child. And the ingrate of a mother crooned to the baby "ahhh ha! Look at Granpa!" I almost stomped out. I stayed and continued my attempts to distract the child, but you bet, my heart was not in it.

Then came the unkindest cut of them all. Tutty Fruity, my dear niece, had Puttachi. And now I am a tAta - gran'pa, officially. That is Ta Ta to my illusions of youth.

Pssst: But when no one is watching, or for that matter even when many are watching, I continue to be myself.

Ready for Tomorrow?

Reading a news paper is a health hazard. Mental health, I mean.

Violence from all over the world is the staple. Organised, sponsored by governments, conveniently ignored by governments, personal - greed induced, jealousy induced, film inspired . . . the list seems to be unending. Land grabbers, officials taking huge bribes, officials of failed banks and their huge bonuses . .

Fortunately for me, my news paper is delivered at such a time in the morning as I can not read it before I leave for work. Good thing. When I do read the papers, I filter out most of it and read what interests me. Saves a lot of time too.

It is a hard job being a self diagnosed "incurable" optimist in this cynical, violence-ridden world.

Then you come across something like this: Honest Taxi Driver Reaps Rewards.

Ah, I can face tomorrow. All is not lost.

Once an auto(rickshaw) driver drove to my place and returned a bag I and my wife had forgotten in it. Such things must be celebrated. They were celebrated here.

Did you hear about the taxi driver who returned a Stradivarius?

Yes. All is not lost!

German Power

Have you seen the advertisement for Hyundai i10 on TV, in which Mr. Khan proves (or so we are expected to believe?) that power is not inversely proportional to speed?

Or this site?

Since when did we start specifying power in PS in India? Or should the question be, why have we not stopped using HP as the unit of power in India? PS is short for Pferdestärke - Horse Power, in German.

And why are we still using HP even though we are officially done with the archaic HP as unit of power?

Do we lack Horse sense? Or is it only that I do not have it and do not know why?

Julia Lermontova

I visited Göttingen recently and spent a weekend there. Visiting Göttingen was a dream come true. After reading about it, for instance in “Brighter than a Thousand Suns”, I had a mental image of it which was clearer than that of places I have seen. But, as it often happens, when a dream does come true you feel that the dream was better. Is it the same phenomenon as the “The book was better”? After all the “the book” is not the book but the image you have of it (or its contents) in your mind! Chew on it. In any case, I was prepared for this and hence had a grand time.


Göttingen has memorials of many greats who lived there at some tome or the other. Benjamin Franklin and Goethe who spent just a month there. The very fact that so many great scientists lived there is the reason for the fascination with the place. I referred to my visit to Göttingen as a pilgrimage, almost sheepishly. After my return, browsing through the net for some missing information, I came across a site of a Japanese scientist who had called his visit to the place pilgrimage too. Ah, that is better. In any case, I posted the pictures of my visit to Göttingen and called the album Shree Kshetra Göttingen.


(As an aside, while talking to my sister about Wimbledon some time ago, I referred to it too as Shree Kshetra Wimbledon. Unfortunately I only passed through the Wimbledon Railway Station in 1985 but never made a proper “pilgrimage”. In a similar vein, I undertook a pilgrimage to Shree Kshetra Heidelberg once. Coincidentally, I passed the village where Boris Becker was born, one of the tennis greats who made SK Wimbledon his abode for a while, on my way to Heidelberg)


With that brief preamble/prologue/tangent/digression let me come to the main reason for starting this post. Julia Lermontova.


There is a plaque on a building commemorating the fact that she lived in that place when she was in Göttingen. Julia who? Lermontova who? Well that was my reaction too.


(Let me admit that this was my reaction to the name Lichtenberg too, which, in hindsight, is unpardonable for an electronics engineer with an interest in biographies of scientists)


But the name Lermontova (Spelt Lermontowa in German) did ring a bell, but, the wrong one. I remembered that there is a famous Russian called Lermontov. But who Lermontov was and what he did to earn his fame, I had no idea. Interestingly the only thing I remembered about him was his portrait - if I am not mistaken, in the magazine Soviet Land, but of course there is no way to confirm it. In any case, I learnt later that he was one of the greatest Romantic poets of Russia. Not unlike Galois, Lermontov died in a duel at the age of 27. This is a tragic thing. Not just the death, which definitely is tragic. The fact that in many cases the circumstances of the death of such people is the only thing we know about them. I can say now that that is all I know about Galois and Lermontov. (To be frank, I know a little more about Galois and his mathematics, even though it is only “journalistic” knowledge.) One more such name is that of van Gogh and that he shot himself and died when 35.


I found that Julia Lermontova was indeed remarkable. So here are two links about her.

Here and here

What a lot of text to put together just two links!

Here is a translation of the text of a commemorative plaque in the Archives of the city of Göttingen.

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Julia Vsevolodovna Lermontova was born on 2. Januar 1847 (According to the Russian calendar in use then, on 21 December, 1846) in St. Petersburg and died on 16 December, 1919 in her ancestral country estate south of Moscow. Because of health problems and the circumstances of her private life she had to give up chemistry when she was 35.

Julia Lermontova is of outstanding importance in the perspective of the history of science in two ways. For one, she can be counted as the pioneer of womens education as she was not only the first one to get a doctorate in Chemistry, but also the first one to graduate according to all the formal requirements. For the other, through her work with the most important chemists of both Germany and Russia she brought together the scientific traditions of both countries and at the same time achieved importance through her own research work in the area of polymerisation.

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I also found that Lermontova is mentioned quite often in the articles about her friend and long time companion, Sofia Kovalevskaya. Another remarkable woman!

Credits: The picture of Julia Lermontova and the text of the commemorative plaque are from this site of Dr. Cordula Tollmien, with her kind permission.