The MotoEmpire Strikes Back

I have a Moto story to share.

Dear reader, please ignore the obvious Star Wars  reference in the title. For now, let us travel not too far away,and to the not-too distant past, when "smart" and "phone" were two distinctly separate words, if memory serves me correctly. However, our ever evolving vocabulary had (and has) no choice but to keep pace with the rapid strides in science and technology, which was responsible for the combination of the two words into one, and spawning a massive multibillion dollar industry.

But wait; before we launch into yet another smartphone spec-fest, let me personalise it slightly, from the view point of the common man. To be very frank, I am relatively challenged when it comes to technology; through most of last year, I was quite satisfied with my QWERTY keypad-enabled 2009 model of a (hitherto) prominent Finnish mobile manufacturing giant. I had never felt the overarching need to carry around a mini-computer in my pocket, and was doing pretty well until life caught up with me.

You see, college had ended and I'd started working; thus began my affair with the life-blood of any professional organisation, the e-mail. And yes, critically important mails cannot wait until you can reach a computer terminal; staying connected at all (okay,most) times had just crossed the indistinct boundary from "luxury" to "need". I had no option but to surrender to the exponentially growing clan of smartphone users. I had one grouse, though; I did not want to drown in an ocean of irrelevant features and incessant notifications. I wanted technology to make my life easier, and not make it revolve around a bunch of pointless power-guzzling app-updates. Sadly, none of the phones at that point could cater to my whim.

This is when Motorola decided to launch its first generation Moto-E, the very competitively priced set that took the burgeoning smartphone market by storm. It had everything that I could wish to begin my voyage into the world of smartphones; it used the stock version of Android KitKat (No bloatware, yay!), had a brilliant display and a decent processor, fit snugly in one hand unlike most  sets that looked more like serving trays, excellent sound quality and yes, the feature that appealed to me the most, which was the spartan design; no obnoxious buttons cluttering the bottom portion; it was a shining example of pure, understated elegance.

However, did I buy it?

There was one tiny thing that Motorola had missed out; a few of my friends were studying abroad, and to Skype with them, I needed a front camera on board the phone, which was absent. So I was left quite frustrated and was beginning to think of settling for a lesser, gaudier device, when finally The MotoEmpire Strikes Back, with the fabulous second generation Moto E; same price, slightly bigger (and still a comfortable fit in the hand and the pocket), the latest version of Android (Lollipop, and still no bloatware, yay!), an even more powerful processor and battery (points and laughs at the charger), customisable multicoloured bands and grip shells (should you wish to change the look of the device) and *drumroll* the front camera! Could it be any better? 

Yes it can; there is a 4G-enabled version to be launched soon in India. Still drooling? You don't have to wait for long, simply zip off to and get the fun started right away.

Congratulations Motorola, in the never-ending quest for the perfect device, I believe you've hit the sweetest spot in the house. And this is why I'd like to begin my smartphone journey with the all new Moto E. 

                            Image courtesy:IndiBlogger/Motorola


I banged on the door. 

I screamed.

I cried.

I begged.



Please let me out.

Nobody heard me. 

Nobody came to help me.

Then again, it wasn't anyone's fault.

After all, my coffin was buried six feet under the ground.


1. T H E  R U L E S


I love games. You do, too?


Anyway, the question was purely rhetorical, because I’m not interested whether you do or do not; this is my story and my choice rules the roost. And I want to tell you about my favourite game called Chain.

No, I didn’t make it up, and stop being so grumpy; it’s fun and by the time you finish reading, I’m sure you would want to join in.The game of Chain is exceedingly simple. All you need is a group of people who shy away from competitive tendencies, and have ample time and inclination to play this seemingly silly sport. 



A sunny day in London is as rare as a snowstorm in the Sahara. The normally turbid waters of the Thames join in the celebration; the sunlight skives off the surface and decorates the brightly painted hulls of the ferries in millions of ever-shifting patterns.

I take my usual table, slightly away from the Sunday crowds. This pretty little bistro affords a wonderful view of the river and the immortal bridge spanning it. It is owned by a Punjabi gentleman, a friendly fellow who made for wonderful conversation, while he sipped glass after glass of his favourite raw black tea. However, today being a holiday, he is busy tending to the needs of bratty obese children and their overindulgent mothers.

Traveller's Tales - II

Continued from here.

"And you see no one. You wet your pants and run screaming bloody murder, so that one day, you could relay it to unwilling strangers at airports," I finish it off.

He peers  at me with interest. "No,no,no....Heh....There was someone,  and he was quite alive."

I did not expect that. "Oh... who?"