Non Sequitur

Transition

2009-11-29T16:40:00.002+05:30

In less than 2 weeks from now, I will move on to Grihastashram from Bramashram. This blog has probably dedicated 50% of it's space to my rants and musings on finding the perfect one and it is a pity that once I found one, it did not let way for 1% of that space on the aftermath. Like they say, women have a profound effect and I, of all the people, had little defense to that.

So what am I looking forward to? Going to the movies and making sure we are nowhere near the pesky mobile popcorn waala who refuses to get the message. Moving on from the late night calls that have often caused enough red eyes in the morning. A month long vacation from work which means no more deadlines and calls that drone on. The gifts, the ceremony and the truckload of guests that will fly down. And most of all, her :).

Cat Ba Island

2009-10-05T18:20:00.009+05:30

I am on my IBM Corporate Service Corps assignment in Vietnam. And while I have been missing on the blogosphere, the below post should tell you why so.

A trip to Cat Ba island. Touted as one of the places where a James Bond movie was shot. Pristine surroundings. Gorgeous water. Even better sand. Untouched nature. Rocks. Fresh breeze. The list of exotic locations just does not stop yet in Vietnam.

We started the morning by squeezing 10 of us in a taxi meant for 7 only. After a rather packed ride, we reached our ferry on what was a sunny and hot day. Boarded the ferry and our photography started. There was so much to capture that we just continued clicking.The water was initially a muddy shade and slowly started getting green like a sapphire..shining brilliantly.

Once we touched Cat Ba island, we debated whether to use a cab or hire bikes. And I think hiring bikes was the best decision we took. It was just heaven to feel the wind and ride in the middle of lush forests and greenery. We reached beach 1 and it took us less than 5 mins to hit the water. The sand was so clean the water so clear, that we did not need a second invite, esp. with the hot sun glaring down.

Beach 2 was smaller and more secluded than the previous but the team continued its fun in water and by the end of it we were all tanned. Of course no one cared any less about it. On our return we had a small scare when Albert mistimed a turn on his test ride on the bike, and crashed. Luckily there were no injuries and we were back on our trail to the ferry.

Words don't do justice to this trip. It had to be seen and experienced. Probably one of the best trips I had undertaken ever.

Panchatantra

2009-08-16T22:14:00.004+05:30

Jas asked me to do this exercise that 666 has so unceremoniously massacred on his blog. I will be nice and here it goes.

Rules:
Use the first letter of your name to answer each of the following questions. They have to be real- nothing made up! If the person before you had the same first initial, you must use different answers. You cannot use any word twice and you can't use your name for the boy/girl name question.
I have to use 'K'

1. What is your name: Kanishka (Reminds me of that brilliant movie Sankat City, and that cracking liner.."Main kaun choo, mhari mummy kaun che")

2. A four Letter Word: Kama (The lord of love often caught in a cheap prejudice that makes you think of Indira Verma. Not denying she is not a goddess but definitely not of love)

3. A girl's Name: Kanishka (This was easy. I have always lived with a sub Mensa level populace that thinks Kanishka is a girl's name and allocates hostel rooms in women's hostels, files visa as female and the works. When it is supposed to be a King and all Kings till date have been men)

4. A boy's Name: Kendraiah (Go to Karnatak to find several such names in Kendra Sanchar Nigam)

5. An occupation: King (It s an occupation. Try wiki answers)

6. A colour: Khaki (remember big baggy shorts that RSS cadres wear)

7. Something you wear: Kicks (slang for shoes..check on wiki answers)

8. A food: Kaju Barfi (few more days before I can eat them)

9. Something found in the bathroom: Kilo Scale

10. A place: Karachi (Chand Nawab, Indus News, Karaaaaaaaaachi. Check on Youtube.)

11. A reason for being late: Kamel kicking kars

12. Something you shout: Kabootar (666)

13. A movie title: Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham (a very perverty yet hilarious version if you let the 2 kabhie's be as it is, rhyme Khushi with a censored slang and Gham with another such slang..and lo behold, you have a cheap Mallu porn movie)

14. Something you drink: Kala Khatta

15. A musical group: Kiss (. 1972s Group in USA. Kiss kiss ko main pyaar karun)

16. An animal: Koala

17. A street name: King's Cross (Queen's junction? Ouch, my blog's turning into an after 10 adults only zone)

18. A type of car: Kia

19. Something scary: Komodo Dragon (inventor of commode..hehehahahah....ok bad joke)

20. Ice cream flavour: Kesar

The Fun Side

2009-08-04T18:38:00.004+05:30

And now the fun side of this crash. A lot of it is like "Sach ka Saamna" show so incase it gets a little too bold, just remember, I wasn't in my senses - quite literally.

So first crash, boom and bang. People stop, speak to me, ask me all sorts of questions to stop me from slipping into unconsciousness. In this melee comes a cute car instructor who stops by and asks me questions as well. I barely have any churn in..ermm [censored] ..cos my blood was pumping elsewhere but you get the drift. They pack me in the ambulance and then the paramedic says "Mate, I have to cut your shirt to reach your arm" and srrrrrr...I hear the scissors through my brand new shirt that I was wearing for the second time. That loss hit me more than anything else. The next thing I know is I am being wheeled in the stretcher in a hospital corridor without anyone beside me screaming.."Speak to me", crying, wailing and then resisting the doctor that she also needs to get into the operation theatre. Cos the dumbos did not take me to an OT..just kept me lying in the stretcher for quite sometime.

Finally I get up, look around and in the most pitiful voice say.."Water, water". Compounder who is Mallu looks at me with even more pitiful eyes and says "Can't, doctor has to examine you first". The suddenly Doc uncle comes, turns me around, violates me and declares that my spine is ok. Arrggghhh..I knew it was ok, why did you have to do that disgusting thing!! Then he calls nurse to dress my wounds. Enter Apsara 1.

She was 5'4", slim, blonde. Not gentle..wild. Takes broken hand which I have no control on and puts on a hoist. Endures great pains and loads of brushes. I curse why can't my hand feel today. Just one prayer..bas ek min ke liye haath mein sensation dedo. I look after she is done. There is blood. My blood. On her skirt and apron and ermmmm [censored], elsewhere. If real love of life reading this, I promise I did nothing. It just happened and I had no control. I swear.

Then enter my saviour, Indian doc with Andaz Apna Apna type ghode ka injection. He pushes it in my hand and then pushes all that liquid in my hand to numb it and tries to straighten it. Manages a bit but finally decides it needs surgery. So next day surgery. Now this is the interesting part. Just as they take me in they ask "Any relatives, guardian" "No" "Ok, these are the risks - you may go in coma, complications, loss of blood, paralysis, this that, death" "Do you agree". Ya, like I have a choice. "Ok, sign please". Anesthesia room "We may have to knock off your teeth if your jaw locks up when you are unconscious and if we are not able to push the tube in your mouth". The minute they gave me a jab I opened my mouth as wide as possible and stayed like that till I drifted into sweet slumber.

Enter Apsara 2,3,4,5,6,7. They came in all shapes in sizes. I am able to now appreciate why so many movies depict nurses with such throb inducing persona. India is the only exception. Had it not been for them my hospital stay would have been so uneventful, but the fact that I had one every shift take care of me made life so nice and fun.

There are, of course, fun things that happen in a hospital. You sort of lose all your inhibitions considering you see people dress and undress before you, albeit behind curtains or generally in a state of disarray. I could not use my hands so the person on the next bed would help me open cans and sandwich packs and since he couldn't walk I would fetch things for him. Beautiful tandem. Infact the next time they put me back into the hospital, all my ward mates were gone and it suddenly felt so alien and depressing.

By the time I was ready to check out of the hospital, I had made a lot of friends in the hospital, ward mates, nurses, matrons. I think that was the only thing that kept me out of getting into super duper depression. And oh, the physios. The battery of them that visited me, young beautiful girls. Indian, Polish, Brit. The two Indians currently treating me. Makes the visit to the hospital so much fun. There is so much more that I could go on but perhaps I should end this series of posts here and move onto different things in life.

The Aftermath

2009-07-27T17:19:00.005+05:30

I am finally in a decent state to write a blog and update with what I would call as one of the most physically excruciating time I have had so far. Thank you everyone for your wishes and your concern. Really helps.

So what exactly happened? Of course the accident and the surgery but that was just a quarter of the torture. Took a severe reaction to the Morphine based painkiller that made me itch and scratch like I had the fleas and tore my back and my arms scratching. It took 2 weeks to get it under control and the lack of one hand made things worse. Then the numbness in a couple of fingers with subsequent hyper-sensation and restricted movement, which continues till date. Will need some intense physiotherapy and self-will to make that all right. And finally, the 4 hour syndrome i.e I cannot sleep more than 4 hours cos the hand starts hurting for some strange reason after 4 hours of sleep forcing me to get up, sit up till the pain subsides and then try to sleep again.

The incision where the metal plate was put in was stapled with metal staples (just like the ones you use to staple paper, just a lot more thicker) and were removed 10 days ago. Now that was the worst of the lot, when they took out the staples without any anesthesia - 20 of them - and I nearly passed out in pain. It works just like the way we pull staples out of paper with a slight modification. This was worse in terms of pain than my first dressing when they took out all the stuck cotton and bandages (Yes, I know, gory stuff).

Now comes the rest half of the pain. To cook with one hand with no help, do all daily chores, groceries, going to the hospital...everything alone - missed home like crazy. Must have banged down the knife a hundred times in frustration cos the vegetable would not stay in its place. And then mum would always say - You are not dead so don't fret. Chin up and fight through it. So far the fight has been good and I can proudly say that I took ZERO assistance from anyone save for some isolated bits. Bragging point - nah but morale boosting point - yes.

Destiny

2009-07-05T22:15:00.001+05:30

I write this sitting in Bed 1, Juniper ward, St. Peter’s Hospital. This has reference to my previous post – my cycle. A nasty accident and I am lucky to be alive. Crossing a T junction when a car which never bothered to stop hit me from the side. I experienced anti-gravity for sometime till it decided to obey Newton and got me down flat on the ground. Sum total: A broken arm that needed a surgery this morning to fix in a metal plate to hold the bone together, bruises on my face and a couple of needles sticking in my body.

The cycle is a mess, wont ride again. I will have that metal strip in my hand for the rest of my life triggering off metal detectors everywhere I go. Pretty cool eh – Terminator style. Had my first dab of Morphine that made me delirious, heady, light.

Now back home, discharged from the hospital. Can’t type more but wanted to update you all.

Tour de London

2009-06-21T17:32:00.005+05:30

Have you ever wondered how the makers of BSA Champ and Atlas cycles would be turning in their graves due to, lack of oxygen aside, the fact that countries like UK have made cycling an expensive rich man's option. Let me explain and pardon me if I end up getting too much into penny counting.

I had enough of walking around in London, waiting for buses to come, watching couples canoodling on bus stops much to the amusement of Indians (esp. the types who look at you from the corner of their eyes with that "I am checking you out" stare while trying to dig their nose or twirl their beard, if a Sardar) and generally losing precious time due to this dependency. So I decided to get myself a bicycle. Now before you raise your eyebrows and say - "Oh, so middle class" - let me narrate events that will make you guys look like the 4th cousin of Mittal's head cook's night shift assistant's port man.

I first went down to some bike shops here and asked them to give me a quote. First the jargon - Shimano gears, grip gears, or flick gears. No no, I want 1 gear. I no race. No sir, you must have gears, we don't sell bikes without gears. Alright alright, how much do they cost. Well mate, that one over there will cost you about 580 pounds plus VAT. Hmmmm, one cycle or a dozen? One cycle only. Oh that is mighty generous of you to give me one cycle for just 580 pounds. Move on. How about that one there? Sir that one is not recommended for you - it is for 18 years and below. I don't care, it fits me perfect - can't help it if you guys are in a hurry to reach 6 feet when you have 60 years for it. No sir, I am afraid we cannot sell that to you. Ok @!#!@#!.

I then looked up on the internet for some second hand deals. Found a couple and suddenly found the apple of my eye (no, not her) going at 20 pounds. Off I go to meet this Algerian who is selling his 18 gear Shimano cycle. It looked a beauty to me and had it been in India, I would have been the hottest guy on/off the block on 18 gears. I pay him, cycle down only to realise the rear tyre is a flat. Oh well, just a quick job I guess. I celebrated my cheap deal with a 10 pound dinner.

So the next day, I get into the car with Ram (my landlord) who begins by taking me to Halfords - a huge showroom just for bikes. Err, excuse me, I have a flat tyre. Sorry, we can't do that for you? Kyuuunnnnnn? You need to make an appointment for this and we are booked for next 3 weeks. You can buy a tube if you want. 3 weeks???? Indian patience was never a virtue in Rig Veda. Hey look, I will pay you extra, just do it. Can't, we don't do no repairs on Saturday and Sunday. Ahh, so now I have to time my punctures to match your store timings. Ok $#@$#@.

Next stop at another store - Can you fix my tyre. Sure, let me take a look. No we can't. Kyuuuuuun? Your bike is not roadworthy condition and we cant let it pass our store. Dear Harishchandra ki naajayaz aulaad, it is me who has to ride this bike and not you, and I need it for a daily 1 km commute in a non traffic area. No sir, it don't work like that. I can sell you the tube if you want. Ok ok, give me the tube and a cycle lock. What!! This flimsy lock costs 5 pounds?? #@$#@$.

I get back home, put the cycle down, summon all my vidya (no don't even bother with that joke, I never knew any girl called Vidya) and start removing the tyre slowly prying it out and then the tube. Inflate it, put it in a mug of water and start looking for leakages. And guess what, the only place where there was a "puncture" was in the valve which just needed a bit of tightening with a pair of tweezers. That's it!!! That was it all.

So now I have a functional cycle with a spare tube and a flimsy lock which I plan to replace. If all goes well the bike should about cost me about 25 pounds and throw in a dinner as well. Convert that into Indian rupees and it is upwards of 2000 rupees for a second hand cycle. Now the business plan - if I import cycles from India at about 4000 rs for geared ones and sell here for 150 pounds I will make a 200% profit. If I open up a puncture shop and repair tyres anytime during the day I will make 3 pounds per puncture. Assume I put it up in a premium location and also strew up some nails 100 m each side of the door, I should probably have about 50 cases at the bare minimum. That is 150 pounds of earnings as well. Per day. What do you think I should do?

Burra Sahib

2009-06-06T02:03:00.002+05:30

Life's been a rush. Literally. Living all by yourself sometimes can be a very busy thing to do. Like trying to find a new place to live since the current place is too costly to afford. And then packing up and moving lock stock and barrel. In meantime, life takes me to Edinburgh (pronounced as Edin-burra), the Scottish city with its old impressive castles, baroque architecture, psychedelic themed hotel and generally a different clean vibe from the hustle bustle of London. The country side, the choppy, frigid sea from the cliff and a deep whiff of fresh air. Ahh!!

Mommy can't stop indulging herself with wedding preparations and I have never seen her happier ever. Dad does subtle things like send me list of things I should buy for her and for the wedding. I spend most of my time in either booking tickets to travel to a client or calling up the airlines for a refund. Else cleaning my current house to make it look all spic and span for the very important final checkout inspection. And running in between meetings to call her. So now perhaps you know why I am busy all day.

In a yet another professional development, got through an IBM leadership program that sends people to an emerging country for a short stint to work on public policy projects. Don't know where will this take me, but some probable countries are Romania, Vietnam, Ghana, China, Brazil and South Africa. My gut says it might be Vietnam but let's wait and watch where does my posting come on to.

So that is enough update to all those who would care to know. When do I write back? I don't know - my previous promises of being regular have failed miserably so I am not even going to make a commitment. I am just through a busy phase in life, if it is excuse enough :)

In Dreams Are Realities

2009-03-25T16:02:00.002+05:30

If I were in a state of utopia, I would like to not have dreams or nightmares in my sleep. I would like to have someone cook for me. I would like to have something other than rice and potatoes. I would like to not dread weekends. I would like to learn roller blading. I would like to buy a cycle. But alas, utopia is an ideal unattainable state but the quest to reach there can make you do a lot of things.

To work backwards in a Christopher Nolan fashion, I have too much spare time, err, sometimes. Which leads to me to question why do I exist other than to lead a eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep lifestyle. Surely, there must be a better route to happiness, self actualisation. Perhaps for once spend on something without thinking of the tangible RoI. Cos if that were to happen, then weekends could be spent learning how to skate. A skater might have better access to Indian restaurants that can provide with better grub than what I dole out everyday at my place. It would save me from having my usual escapades in the kitchen with..ahem, myself, trying to make rajma and in the process burning my little toe of all the things. It is a thing since a wise lady mentioned that little toes are useless, need no nail cutting, polish and essentially just stick there to give feet a symmetric image and not make them feel bad of having two less digits as compared to your hands.

Of course, terrific rajma comes with a tradeoff on sleep. Weird dreams and pleasant nightmares. Those that make you get up unpleasant and groggy, rather tired and worn out instead of waking fresh like a bunch of flowers. Since I pass via the MI6 headquarters everyday, reading a newspaper in the bus, most of my dreams are about being a secret service agent who pseudo-recruits journalists to my company and then puts them on stinging "happening" assignments.

On another tangent, as the background setting, bright sun that shines in different parts of the world with different intensities plays a vital role in well being. A regular 4.00 pm alarm that wakes you up from slumber in a lonely house with just the sound of the refrigerator for company on a gloomy day. And just as you were about to put this post up, mum says "No skating during shaadi year. I don't want any risky business".

Such is life. Such is sleep. Such were dreams.

The Journey So Far

2009-03-07T17:01:00.004+05:30

Since now I can comfortably look back and brood over the journey so far, let me reveal some amazing gems I have met, wasted time on, and in some cases money too. The impetus for this post came from a discussion I had a couple of days back that probably I could write a book on some of these wacky people (atleast they seemed wacky to me) and it just might be a best seller. I still can't describe all, but I think two of them take the cake hands down.

Girl 1:
This one has been a huge source of entertainment to me, my family, my friends, my office and everyone I have met over a dinner table. Lets call her "Gadadhari Bheem" similar to the one in Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron, one who wakes up suddenly, delivers his dialogues and goes to sleep again.

Her family was into full time interviewing business, her brother interviewed me 3 times over a span of 3 months. In other words, one interview per month and then no response. Then suddenly a call 30 days later, "So we had spoken the last time...". Ahem dude, isnt the follow up call really quick? I mean, if you want to evaluate 20 other guys during the 1 month then dont do all round 1 together. Stagger it so that I get a feeling you care about me. So well, the girl finally speaks to me, maybe twice and then comes up with the mother of models. I mean a spreadsheet model.

She apparently thought the process of arranged marriage is fuzzy and she wanted a method to the madness. So up comes a 64 row item sheet on compatibility match. Much like that geek compatibility match groom in Namastey London. I resisted but she insisted that I fill up and then she would fill up and then we will get on a call to discuss. Wonder if this was like a project scoping excercise. After 4 reminders, I filled it, she filled as well and then said "We need to discuss". Groan.

I expected the discussion to go on things more substantial (and if you take a look at the spreadsheet and the line items, you will know what I mean) but she had other plans.
She: "You know, you like reading but I don't."
Me: "So don't read, you are not joining a university"
She: "But we dont match here. I feel it will be a significant issue going forward"
Me: "This will be an issue??"
She: "You like impactful and meaningful comedy movies. I like bollywood movies"
Me: "So?"
She: "This might be an issue. Cos I like bollywood and would like to watch only that"
Me: "Umm, you know what - lets just digest this sheet for some more time and then get back"
Click.
We never spoke again.

I have attached the sanitized spreadsheet here for you all to take a look. It has been widely circulated amongst most people and who knows, it is currently a popular fwd as well.

Girl 2:
Lesser said the better. If you have seen Farhan Akhtar's "Luck By Chance" then this is Isha Sharvani minus the looks.
She: "You know, I love my dawgiieeeeeeeeee" (That stupid voice all girls speak in when they like to go kid like and a guy invariably ups his manly voice to show he is more mature)
Me: "Oh what breed"
She: "No, it is a stuffed toy. I always have him on my bed and every morning I kiss it"
Me: That stupid smile which wants to laugh, cry and run at the same time.
She: "Do you like toys?"
Me: "Umm depends...what "toys" are we speaking about?" [Maybe she has a wild side]
She: "I have a lot of teddy bears in my room. I really love teddy bears"
Me: Are you still sleeping in your pram?

Thankfully this never worked out, I did not want to buy bears all my life, for her, then kids, then kids kids. Or maybe she would have made me a Teddy Bear Tychoon. TBT. To Be Terminated.

Of course, as usual you never get to hear their side of the story and to some extent this might be biased reporting, but mera blog to main mahaan!!

Land Ahoy!!

2009-02-11T00:30:00.002+05:30

It has been 7 years of informal search, 2 years of formal search and several blog posts later that today I write that one post most of you have been waiting for. Not out of joy but out of sheer relief that you will no more be required to read the same genre posts about finding the right one. Cos this time I have found the right one!! And how...

A month ago, one day before my 26th birthday comes a ping and a mail. Like the many. But this one does not act like she is buying a Pomeranian. Rather comes restrained and stable. We just warm up over the month, till I fly down to India finally to take a call. And we both take the call. In 24 hours I move from I to We. The wait seems like a very well deserved wait. So now officially I am booked and hooked. Hopefully the next genre of posts to decorate this blog will be on my goof ups with this phase of my life.

Till then it is spiraling ISD calls and doodling in meetings.

Vini, Vidi, Get Lost!!

2009-01-23T00:01:00.000+05:30

This one has to take the top prize in terms of passion writing. It is as usual written as first person and there are 3 characters. Me, my inner self and she. Yes, the donkey comes last.

Background: Another of the many alliances that came by and the cell number passed on to me to make first contact. Very much like ET..the aliens never make the first contact. We will call her "She" but if you look close enough in this post you will find her name.

Action:
Tring tring. She picks.

Me: Hi!! Kanishka here, I just had your number passed onto me. Good time to talk?
She: Ya ya. [silence>]
Inner self: Oh the annoying silences. I never know where to start from.
[Some filler chatter]
Me: So what do you do?
The action begins...
She: Why?? Is it not written in MY CV..sorry biodata?
Me: Yes, but just thought if you would maybe tell me more what you do. Law has many facets you see.
She: Oh you have a preference on the profession the girl should be on is it? Looks like all techies like techies..she continues speaking
Inner self: Babes, I just asked what you do. If you are embarrassed don't answer. I will ask Dolly and Chameli about it.
She: Still speaking
Me: I am not a techie btw..[Attempt lost in her drone]
She: Still speaking. Somewhere I caught her say, so what do you think I do? What is your understanding of law?
Me: uh, um..
Inner self: Say My honour and bow
Me: Corporate legalities, LCs contracts etc
She: You are partially incorrect.
[Note the negative tone, partially incorrect not partially correct]
She: Still speaking and explaining what she does. End sentence with her first "Anyways"
Inner self: Are you sure you are not into criminal law?
Me: Ah nice
[She decides that it is time she practiced criminal Law on me thinking I am Chilka Shakeel]
She: So you have been always in Blore?
Me: Yes
She: How boring. Don't you get bored staying in one city.
Inner self: Theoretically I have been to more cities and for longer duration out of India than your family has been. Two, nomads last got snuffed out hunting for mammoths in 10000 BC.
Me: Each to his own.
She: I hate Blore and its people, the food, the weather everything but anyways
Me: Hmm
Inner self: Anyone got a Colt .45?
She: Do you know about my premier college?
Inner self: Never heard anyone say "my premier college"
Me: Yes I know of your illustrious cousin in Blore, the NLSIU. They are next door.
She: Oh I hate them. They are such snobs and have an attitude. But anyways.
Inner self: Black pot kettle calling?
She: So let us talk something light. Dont you have any hobbies?
Me: Depends on what you define as hobby, but I am passionate about teaching.
She: You teach!!
Inner self: Looks like this impressed her.
She: You teach..haha..you must be kidding. How boring can you get. Where exactly do you teach?
Me: IIMB, SP Jain and other places...
[Still laughing]
Inner self: Listening really is not your strength, is it?
She: Don't you do anything creative? Like reading or listening to music.
Inner self: That is creative? Entire world reads newspapers and listen to music. Mighty creative people huh?
Me: I don't think that is remotely creative. It is a normal hygiene thing everyone does. But if you think that is an hobby then yes.
She: Well you could read different genres. That is creative. But anyways
Inner self: Yes, autowaalas read Bangalore Crime Diary. Different genre and very creative.
Me: Hmm
She: I am not like the losers who work entire day in front of a laptop and come back home and open the laptop. I would like to read a book when I come back home. But anyways
Me: Hmmm. Very creative.
She: Do you play any sports?
Me: Swimming and badminton
She: Oh badminton? Generally I thought short people find it difficult to play badminton because they can't reach the net or run between courts. But anyways.
Inner self: Below the belt blows huh?
She: What else do you do?
Me: I write and blog quite a bit
She: Oh what kind? Has it been published? What genres?
Inner self: She has remembered her classes on English literature and is currently in a core dump mood to swamp you with jargon.
Me: Humour, satire...
Inner self: ...and soon personal slander
She: Political satire, slapstick? Which kinds
Me: Not political. Gen anything under the sun.
She: Oh so you don't like politics. Quite strange for a person to not be interested in politics.
Inner self: I don't write about procreation. Does not mean I am not interested in it.
She: Anything more?
Inner self: 10 mins of ISD talk time wasted on talking to a lawyer who probably has her BF sitting next to her. Send reimbursement expense to her dad. Maru gene kicking in..end the call fast, no more financial loss and don't waste time abusing her. Do it free of cost on the blog.
Me: Nope. that is all.
She: Are you sure
Inner self: I told you she was in criminal law. Are you sure this is the weapon you used to kill her?
Me: Yes.
She: Ok
Me: Bye.

Epilogue: No doing marriage. No problem. No interested in talk. No problem. Insulting and rude. Now big problem.

Jaago Mohan Raja

2009-01-09T00:55:00.002+05:30

This place has been dormant and had it not have been for the coaxing by 666 and the abundant supply of spare time, it would probably have never revived up. I had then decided that it is time I took off from blogging, take a break and then when the fingers itch again, maybe scratch a little more..I mean my head, lest you thought something else...and blog. So here I am, roaming in full pristine glory for the greater glory of Rome.

First, where am I? After traveling several seas, rivers, lakes, canals and ponds, I made my first landing at Brussels. Which was an ok-ok place, nothing that jumped right of the bag and said make me home!! Some work there and then to Amsterdam for more work. Nice place, nice hotel, nice "district", efficient trams, loads of wind, and my first snow ever. Was a great Europe trip, travel in the Thalys, working with free wi-fi on board and in process actually frying up my adapter..no kidding, my adapter actually burnt out black, loads of snow on the last day, delayed flights and a very different set of people.

Till I hit London. Initial impressions, it is like Mumbai. Everything revolves around the tube and the trains. It is not as spic and span as people say, loads of hooligans around, some things are pure filthy, narrow roads, rude and uptight people, quite a hint of racism, horribly expensive and wierd weather. Wouldn't say terrible since I thought Amsterdam was bad, but this place has a mind of its own. This Monday, snow in the morning, rain by 11 am, gloomy around 2ish and BRIGHT sunshine around 3. That is London. a lot of people ask me which is better, London or NY. And I always end up saying NY..maybe cos I had such a blast there and have so many fond memories, or maybe cos I went there during such perfect time or maybe cos I was just plain comfortable there. But it was still the best place to be and not even as expensive as London is.

What's new with me? Nothing really..I turned 26 a few days ago. I have begun cooking full time. How to run a house and keep check on finances. Learning how to stick to train timings. And probably get back to some good blogging all over again.

Soul Wrenching

2008-05-21T20:07:00.006+05:30

Finally I get to come back to this long forgotten page and blog again. The months have been crazily loaded with work and I am sometimes amazed by the amount of work I can put in without a break, 7 days a week. Over this period I have picked up something very very useful. How to deal with people next to the land of the rising sun. So this post will talk about what you should know when you deal with them and should things go another way (which they will) then how to work your way back to office the next day morning. So here goes.

First the definition. Who are they? They are generally females. I suspect they have a 1:100 male female ratio in the South and the other way around in the North. Which is why there is a lot of happiness in the South and plenty of frustration in the North. Women are never know to be frustrated by the lack..oh well..that is another topic. I must not digress. So well, they look very much like any Oriental person and speak like them. Yeah, that was a no-brainer. What makes them different is the immense pleasure they draw from applying maskara and lipstick for about 20 times during a day, irrespective of where they are seated. If they have been putting their lips to good use this statistic could go up.

Next, they are known to work for 30 hours a day and expect you to work that hard as well. Not that they accomplish anything great in this duration cos they don't know what are they trying to do. To put it short, they have no aim in life. They work like how I would surf for porn. No set agenda or target in mind. Find whatever you can and keep hopping from site to site. They also have a convoluted sense of a bargain. Most of us would feel happy if we got a tie free with a shirt. Not the them. They want the shop free with the shirt.

Now how do you deal with them? Sorry. You never deal with them, they deal with you. They love to order around and just when you thought you had enough and say no, they say.."Xcuse me, aaaa...cun you spik a leetle slouwly..aaa...you aare thoo faasth for us". Wonder where was this excuse when we were enquiring about her holiday. They call when it is late in the night even in India and get you to commit on unreasonable demands while you mumble in your sleep. Ok, here comes the ping again..Tora Tora..oh that's Japanese, but BAH!!

A Big Man

2008-03-10T19:13:00.003+05:30

This is not like a Ruskin Bond novel. It happened to me yesterday. And for the first time in 3 years of teaching I felt I did not own the class. I got in a class just like any other class, after a full day of classes. Nearly exhausted and of couse as usual full of cheeky humour, I start my class when a student gets up and says he needs to go to the toilet. I make another cheeky comment (something that I will come to regret later), without even looking at him. He went out and later came back. I noticed he had his mother with him, so I assumed he must not be well. He sat down, and then suddenly called me, pulled out a recording device from his pocket, said "DI 1.1" and told me "Sir, can you please state your name and keep this in your pocket for this lecture. I am visually impaired".

It hit me with more force than anything has in recent past. I was speechless for a second and had no clue what to say. The class moved on and I truly found him to be brilliant. I was doing a complex data interpretation file which people with pen paper and a pair of eys found tough to even understand the question while this guy would just listen carefully and give me the logic of solving it and also calculations. His mother sat by him taking down the dicatation and the calculations and being his eyes. I dont know how I can really capture this in words. It had to be seen. Made me feel so little.

Not cos I sympathize. Cos he does not need it.

Back to Back Buck Buck

2008-02-11T10:06:00.000+05:30

I have been away for way too long. Call it a blogger's block or lack of time, but apologies for being away for so long. January was a month of sorts with tons happening, bringing me closer to a settled status. I got my car and it just felt so good to see something purchased from years of penny pinching and evading parking tickets. Haha!! And in what has been the biggest thing I have done till date, I finally have a piece of land that bears my name. What a high it will be to see a board up on that place and read "This property belongs to Kanishka Agiwal. Trespassers will be caught and forced to spend one day with him, all expenses paid by them". All of this in a span of 2 weeks, which nearly brought me to a conclusion that a girl is just another week away, but oh well that still continues to evade me. A trip to Mumbai to attend a friend's wedding almost had me drooling at the prospects of meeting more and more girls at the wedding, but as usual none caught my fancy. Why do girls driving on some scooter in front of my car always interest me?? Cos they are too tough to pin down?? Do I like challenges?? Sudoku, here I come.

At my place finding a girl is an operational detail. But getting the menu ready, the place where they want to hold the wedding, the jewelery and dresses are critical factors. We are masters at reverse engineering. Once these are clear, the girl can just fit into the whole scheme of things.

What do you do if you have a co-passenger who is scared of flying and goes into a trance the moment the aircraft starts its engines and reaches feverish pitch, chanting "Hare Rama Hare Krishna" by the time the plane takes off. Nothing much. Carry cotton next time and eye blinds.

I spent a very comfortable night at a very close friend's place in Mumbai just when I was wondering where I would spend the night. But surprisingly the one thing that I have come to associate them is with the absolutely UP bhaiyya song "Billo Rani" that blared in their car on the way to work the next day. Why do I always catch the weirdest details when there is lot more to reminisce??

Annual Checkup

2007-12-25T11:31:00.000+05:30

This is not a review on Taare Zameen Par. I will not talk about how the movie could have been completed in 30 mins yet 3 hours seemed like a short time. Or how the ending is so predictable yet so enjoyable. Or how the kids acted a little mature for their age. But it is more about reliving your adolescent days. Watching each antic and reminiscing those carefree days. That we have all dug our noses and wiped the wiggly gooey mass somewhere away from sight, even if it meant our pockets. Play imaginary games while taking a bath, complete with machine guns and sound effects. Sing loudly in the loo. Sit in a double decker bus, feel the wind hit you and push all your hair back.

Eat mud, fight like there is no tomorrow and come back and brush away the wound. Collect tadpoles in dirty water, feed them with wheat flour and lose interest after a week. Not knowing where to start drawing when given a sheet a paper and invariably end up drawing hills, river, trees and some birds. Bite of the black tops of Nataraj pencils. Run into the school bus and rush to the window seat, esp the rear seats, cos when the bus goes over a hump it is a nice jump. Start packing the school bag slyly when the day is just about to end, and as soon as the bell rings, race to the school gate. Get punished in class and stand out. Rub your palms together to make them warm so that the caning hurts less. Buy that colorful candy sold only outside the school gates. Get drenched so badly in the rain that the leather shoes are full of water when you remove them. Pour water on them so that they look polished and the headmaster does not catch you in the assembly.

Yes, I am playing with your emotions, tugging them where they are the softest, taking you back in time, to stop, take a break and smile. The year was a rush, now get your annual servicing done. Jump into your shorts, wear your slip-ons and walk without a care in the world. You have another year to hit soon.

Peep Into My Life

2007-12-08T10:36:00.000+05:30

Finally a lot to cheer in life. Like I say, I always love the month of December. The fiasco not so subtly mentioned in the previous post, turned out very beautifully in my favour. What it means in material and self actualization terms, time will tell.

After plenty of research and bargaining, finally decided to buy my own car. The Suzuki SX4. Had a tough choice between Honda City and SX4 but what tilted the balance was a price differential, after sales service and ground clearance. Should be zipping in this early January next year. Next stop, an apartment. Will this impress a girl?? Or six packs still rule the roost??

After a gap of nearly 15-16 years, I fell ill for a record 36 hours running a nice temperature only because I wanted to save water and ended up washing my car in the rain, getting drenched completely. The feeling was lousy but the pampering was out of the world. No one shouts, no one asks you to run for errands and you can get the choicest things (read soups and more soups) to eat..err..drink.

Been quite away from the blogging world, but hopefully with a lighter head I should spend more time here. And all those who haven't updated their blogs, can you please do so ASAP??

I Know, Too Many No's!!

2007-11-25T18:00:00.000+05:30

I want to write something that is meaningful and touches you deep in your heart. It is going to be an ~~orangutan~~ gargantuan effort but I am not one who shies away from challenges in life. While the preceding two weeks were responsible for a bulk of my hair loss over the years, the succeeding week promises to be something similar. And hopefully, if I walk this test of fire I should come out like a solid gold bar. No, am not revealing more…like I always maintain with my blog, I never want you to go without a smile on your face.

I must have seen Rang De Basanti umpteen number of times, but the finale always churns my innards. No, not as a laxative, but more from the point of partial paralysis, if you know what I mean. A state where you drop all that you are doing and start relating something in your life to that scene and wondering if you ever will get a chance to do what they did. No, not to kill!! To go live on radio and charm your listeners. For fame, for glory, for the greater good of Rome.

I am in a mood to splurge. To own assets. No, not the Pamela Anderson types, you dummy!! I want to drive around in style, have a piece on this earth that bears my name and pamper myself. It should be possible after years of evading parking fees and making dinner out of smuggled groceries from the breakfast table. No, I am not cheap. I am just being resourceful.

And finally, it is the month of Dec. Of itchy skin, good things and a holiday season. It has always been memorable since time immemorial. (Recursive loop..and a loop is always recursive). What does this month have in store, time will tell. No, I am not hinting at anything, I am just reaching out for a mint.

Globalization

2007-11-10T08:27:00.000+05:30

So we all get chain mails. We all get mails of 4 year old kid suffering from rare heart disorder for the last 10 years. The mails are always from Zambia/Congo/some-civil-war-inflicted-nation. But what is new is that we Indians are warming up to these diseases as well. We are embracing them slowly but steadily, with the respect that begets these rare lympho-whatever dhakans. On the auspicious day of Diwali, I need to get my good deed for the day and hence this I am the forwardings this plea from my friend (No, he is not like a friend from Orkut, whom I can’t place when and why I had added him, let alone remember who he is).

My dear Friend
My name is vijayakumar from Vellore in Tamilnadu, INDIA. http://allnetinfotech.ongoingprofit.com

Ahh ongoingprofit. No no, it is fine. My name is Kanishka from India. www.google.com. I guess this is the latest thing…to drop website addresses at the drop of a hat. Very hep.

I am 25 years old, living with mother and two brothers and I am affected by the Seronegative Rhematoid Arthritis hospital number. 587799 B, CMC, Vellore. My brothers Pugazendiran affected by focal and segmental sclerosis of kidney from 1997. He was take the treatment in CMC No: 475732 B. Vellore. Another brother Vijayakanth affected by suffering Seizure disorder from 1995. He is getting continuous treatment in CHAD Hospital, Bagayam, Vellore. Tamil Nadu. Hospital No.249903 A.

Poora family in exotic disease bijanus!! Brain, kidney, knee…between the three of you the entire market has been captured with absolutely no product cannibalization.

I don’t think about your country, age, sex, race, educational, anything.

And why not. I am your friend right, and we all make friends considering a subset of the following parameters. Come on, please start thinking about me. A/S/L??

I need a help to save my family. I have an information website. Plz visit http://allnetinfotech.ongoingprofit.com. Clicks blue color text lines on the left side or top side. Search anything in the search box and click the first result and browse something. Finally forward this webaddress to your friend and relatives.

The above activities save my family brother illness. Plz Do.

That is a lot of instructions. Why don’t you instead send an address where I can send my cheque. Isn’t that an easier thing to do? Paypal/Funds transfer, anything. If you need help, I will send you a couple of mails that explain how funds transfer happen to Nigeria. I am sure to Vellore it will be far easier. Or if you know any have good contacts with Tamilnadu State Transport Corp. then I could send you some money via the bus driver. Vellore is not too far away from Blore you see, and he wont get too much time to pocket the money.

Thanks
http://allnetinfotech.ongoingprofit.com
S.vijaya kumar

Vijaya, I get it. I got this link the first time. And next time please make a nice website with a decent name. For starters you could use http://allfamily.ondeathbed.com

*******
Written for Jammag Blog

Bedtime Tails

2007-11-01T22:08:00.000+05:30

I think I need to see a psychiatrist. I am having a terrible time in bed. I mean while sleeping. The nightmares just keep getting worser and worser, the Russian army is chasing me, I am a gladiator with no protective gear, or I am suffering from some rare cancer and each time the dream ends when I am killed. I wonder why am I having these dreams. What do they indicate? Is there a sign? Was I supposed to be a spy? Why do I die always? Am I supposed to be a good guy who always dies? Why don't I have dreams of swimming in gold ponds or frolicking with women on a merry-go-round?

Am reading this book by Sashi Tharoor called the "The Great Indian Novel" and that it is hilarious is an understatement. Wonderful satire and pun...there was one instance in the book that had me buckling down and guffawing.
The backdrop - Sons are needed to rule Hastinapur and Ved Vyas is summoned for help.
I quote - "We brahmins have never failed to rise to such occasions. I rose. I came."

Beechcraft

2007-10-18T23:39:00.000+05:30

If I thought I had seen all kinds of flight travel, the latest one blew me off my seat.

Backdrop: Travel to Toronto from New York. Via an airport that can at best take a 60-80 seater, and no Boeings or Airbuses land here. It is more of a County Airport and as a hangar for corporate jets.

So I reach the airport on a cold morning, give my car back to the rentals and then hunt for a trolley to lug my luggage which was excess of 50 kgs easily. What was in it..well don't ask. I myself had not idea how could I have more luggage than what I started with considering I hadn't shopped as well. So I look around for a trolley leaving my luggage unattended and probably sending a few security personnel in a tizzy thinking that it is a bomb. Came back without a trolley and decided to drag it till the check in counter. Huff puff...after 20 whole mins just when I was close to the counter, appears a trolley waala (yes a trolley waala, the airport had just one trolley that is assigned to an official trolley waala who ferries around people's luggage) who offers to help. By this time, my back and hands are aching so bad that I decide to give in. The 1 month of gyming clearly hasn't helped. He lugs the luggage for 20 m, unloads and then stands there so that I can tip him. Down by $5.

Check in happens, security check done and while I wait for the boarding call, comes and announcement. "Mr. Agiwal please contact the Air Canada desk". Felt really good, everybody was staring at me and I really felt important. Maybe they were giving me an upgrade. Till I reach the desk, where they demand for my suitcase keys. Open it, throw away a few things, make my luggage lighter and return my keys. Ahh, that was simple. What's a few starch spray cans. Down by $8.

Now comes the best part. Boarding call for the aircraft is announced, and I approach the aircraft. I nearly stopped in my tracks. That freakin' thing was shorter than a BMTC bus and narrower than the car I just returned. A 16 seater, window for each passenger, although it made no difference. A Beechcraft Twin propeller.

We enter, while my luggage minus the cans is pushed behind. The dickey I would like to call it. There is no air hostess, the pilot doubles up as an air hostess who asks if there is anyone flying for the first time.

"None. Good, then I won't waste your time with the normal security procedures. Have a nice flight. If you ever need me, please knock at the cockpit door." Yes sir, phir plane kaun chalaayega??

He speaks something about a water dispenser should we need some water, but it is lost in the drone of the engines that seeps through the literally non-sound proof cabin. And sits in the cockpit, a view of which we can all see. The plane takes off, with a lot of sway on the runway and takes 2 hrs for a 400 mile journey. No refreshments or water or anything is served (not that I wanted him to leave the flying and come down to serve us) but considering it is one of the costliest tickets purchased for that kind of distance, I guess the basic stuff was expected.

The plane lands in Toronto, and is so small that is able to a U turn on the runway itself and taxies itself close to the exit door, where they ask us to get down, open the dickey and take our cabin baggage. Which we do and just as we are done with it, it just starts again and drives by to the refelling depot like it were a car.

I must have looked at this plane in astonishment atleast 20 times realizing that no hijacker would want to be caught dead on this plane, it would be a total disgrace to his profession.

Tagged: 8 Random Things

2007-10-16T01:26:00.000+05:30

Swati tagged me on this and Jas was off the block first. I am tempted to do a Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V of Jas's random things, since a lot of it is very much me. The first 4 there is me as well, so I guess it will be 12 things for me.

I always day dream of dying a glorious death saving someone, fighting away terrorists or rogues. It is only for impressing a girl, although of what use is it if I am no longer alive to enjoy that impression made. But ninjas aren't paid to think.
I wasn't born in Middle Earth. I either love you or I don't. And in either cases I will go the whole hog.
I am superstitious of Thursdays. I defer all decisions to other days, don't shave or undertake any monetary transactions on Thursdays. And I have blind faith in my rings.
I don't like getting into an argument. It upsets my digestive system. I tremble when I am very angry or nervous or excited. When all you have on your body is 206 bones, these symptoms are quite common.
As much as I hate milk at home, not a day goes by that I don't have it even if I am away from home. Infact I feel lousy if I skip it, it is more of a mental thing.
I am low on patience while watching movies. Prefer skipping all the boring scenes, so that I can watch more movies in the same time and speak intelligently about them.
I am a deadline oriented person. I need/impose deadlines for work to be done. And it needs to be tight, gives me a kick to beat the deadline.
I have broken an arm playing hockey, had a nail go through my foot and come out the other side while running on my terrace, shinned my knees umpteen number of times, had my foot get stuck in a motorcycle wheel and get mashed up like crazy, had a fire bomb blow up on my face and ruin my eyebrows, burn my hands in burning leaves BUT came out unhurt from a major train accident that saw 400+ passengers dead, walked barefoot for 3 miles, covered in soot, on hot stones and thorns to reach the nearest relief camp. I was 8 then.

So who do I tag...Purnima, Abhishek, Neha, Deepthi, and others who read my blog. Take it up people, will be fun to read what you come up with.

A Book

2007-10-04T02:29:00.000+05:30

A couple of friends, completely unknown to each other, have suddenly started prodding me to write a book. I have not a clue in the world how and why but one says that it will help me spend time here in New York (more like the books that people write in jails to pass time).

Maybe I could write one, but then I fall short of themes. I don't like writing anything cheesy or serious. It has to be light, it need not be for the masses (I may not publish it) and it must be something you (yes, you my dear blog reader) can identify with. Any ideas?

Or should I just blog overtime?

Short Story

2007-09-27T01:22:00.000+05:30

A piece that I wrote for Jammag. When and if it gets published, I will point you to it but till then enjoy it on my blog!!

-----------------------------

There is a thing about short men. Women love them, they adore them, and they are a girl’s best friends. Ok not best. Diamonds, sanitary napkins, lip gloss, hairpin and then short men. They are the sexiest thing to happen since Bugs Bunny and that they keep their bottoms covered helps matters by a great deal. He is always there for you, carrying your bags, lending a shoulder which is always lower than the cumulative height of the girl and her 10 inch heels (and gets nice and soggy after the million honks), getting his cheeks pulled cos she left her teddy bear at home, and suffering from frontal balding pattern cos girls are always patting him on his head.

I am of the personal opinion that Seinfeld played a stellar role in removing all the myth about charm and grace that a short man supposedly carried ever since they portrayed George Costanza in the role of a fat, balding middle aged man. It represented them truly even if it meant stereotyping them (which is quite ok, cos all of them are the same). Till Tom Cruise cruised in. On a bike, in air, 2 girls back to back, eyes wide shut. He inspired many but some like Sallu Baba tried to make a fast buck and landed in jail (Dude, why do it in the night? 4 shots in the night result in a bad hangover). And guess what!! Tom gets voted world’s sexiest short man. Which I think should have gone to Costanza. Cos sexy and short is an oxymoron. It is like dry water. You can’t be called sexy just for riding a bike and leaping mid air, letting it crash with another equally expensive bike. My dad would call me stupid and more expletives of higher degrees and the doctor would advise me to be patient while he procures a new pair of limbs for me. Yes, the fact that he is the only short guy to have dropped his clothes helps matters but we all know what glory it brought to Silk Smitha for just dropping her clothes.

Costanza never did that. Now he knew what he was capable of and what he was not. So he chose to be uncool even if it meant losing a few. That is smart and a thumb to the poll. There is no point being voted sexy short guy cos then you have to live up to the expectations set high up and well getting high up there often requires a stool. How many men can successfully claim to have girls hug them every 2 mins when in a group and say, “Oh so sweet”. Or that they get calls late in the night from women who just had a rough day. Or that he can fool around with them without their boy friends getting suspicious or insecure.

A short man is never muscular. He is never sexy. He is never smooth. He is just himself…much less a man. Unlike Cruise uncle. He is an exception and does not represent the populace. He won cos there were no other contenders. And no one was aware there was such a thing being polled else many would have sent in their nominations. After all who does not like a straw poll.

How do I write with such passion and conviction? I should know. I have never crossed beyond 5'4" in the last 25 years.

The Bookie Scraps in a Hotel

2007-09-23T01:38:00.000+05:30

This post took the longest time to come up and the most number of drafts. It wasn't a blogger's block but each time I would want to put up something the mind would just wander around and then I would wait for something nicer to come up. Till this post became a potpourri of sorts.

Draft 1:

It is crazy with the number of social networking sites floating around. It started with orkut, then somebody said Yahoo 360 is better (which flopped before it got 360 members), then Facebook, Linked-In, Friendster...the list goes on. It is annoying sometimes, a server plays the quintessential "kaazi" between a friend/fiend and me before allowing us to get down to business. "One friend added to your network. You will be connected once your friend accepts the request". Dear server, you almost make it look like I am proposing to the person.

Draft 2:

You know you are really living off the suitcase, when the hotel staff talks to you more than you talk to your parents. Or that they come to your table 3 times in 30 mins asking if you need more juice and you think the lady is hitting on you when she taps you on your shoulder and asks "Is everything ok? Is your room clean today? Any problem? No. Good. I am so happy to see you here".

Draft 3:

I am a bookie. I am always in between some of the best matches in the world. And I love playing the matchmaker. Many tell me that I can probably charge for my services. Much of it stems from an inability to find a match for myself. I am so bad that I could not find matches in Walmart the other day.

Reservations

2007-08-29T13:59:00.000+05:30

I am a strong proponent of the women’s reservation bill. It is a shame that insecure politicians would want to hijack this crucial bill that can turn India’s fortunes single-handedly. And at a mere 33% it is an insult to the remaining 67% who would want to be reserved. If I would have it my way, I would make the entire women populace reservable with quotas in place.

Some salient features of the bill would be:

Every woman who has not been reserved will be allowed to opt for elections and can choose the party she would like to affiliate herself.
Affiliations can only be one-to-one
After the reserving party has excercised their choice they cannot reserve any further candidates for the next 10 years.

Also, there should be a strong law to tackle with people who treat women as commodities and place stakes on them.

*****************************

Am back in the Amerikas. Via a very very gloomy Frankfurt which did little to boost my low spirits. Low spirits cos the airline did not take in my meal preference and I survived on orange and tomato juice and some chocolate bars.

Trauma

2007-08-17T19:45:00.000+05:30

I must run away. Quite soon. The process is terrifying to say the least. And the questions that come by are even more. Sometimes bordering on ridiculous. When 8 pairs of eyes stare at you trying to gauge how much you earn and what do you exactly do.

Strategy consulting.
Yes good. So what do you exactly make? Aapka kuch product to hoga..
No, I consult so that companies can grow and make more profits.
Ahh. So aapka kaam CEO jaisa hain??
No not yet. They are considering for the position next month when they have straw polls.

How much do you make?
I realise at this question it is make or break for me. And if I wish to break then it is generally 45 lakhs, give or take a few lakhs. Eyes pop and I am amused. They can't have all the fun, can they.
Gyan Bhandaar - Never ask a person his/her salary. It turns them off. Atleast me for sure.

So in this software field how do you see your growth?
I am not into software.
But aapki company to hain naa.
My company is into a lot of things. Does it mean I am into all of them? You really don't still understand what I do, do you??
But phir bhi, what is your growth?
Blah blah blah and then maybe CEO.
Very good. So when will you become a CEO?
I wonder if I should say 5 yrs, 50 yrs or maybe never. Generally the year is a direct function of my desperation to end the process. 50 typically repels them. "Never" brings in a modesty and it spells ill. 5 makes them go near orgasmic.

So do you have any addictions?
Trick question. If you say none, the family thinks you are a saint and the girl thinks you are a fake. There are no other options.

What is your attitude towards life?
I am pretty much staring blank at their faces. The last time I heard this question it was on a Goa beach late at night, when one of my friends was sloshed beyond recognition and I was the only sober guy he had for company to listen to his sudden dawnings about life. I did laugh a lot while he rambled on.

What do you look in a partner?
Ability to jog every morning for 50 miles. Too much? Ok, make it 30 miles. Aapke liye concession.

Do you want to ask anything?
Reminds me of job interviews. Never leave the table without asking the interviewer a few questions however mundane, searchable and obvious they are. If you don't, they think you are not an "out-of-the-box" thinker. I prefer to smile and look at the door.

Gogol

2007-08-07T20:43:00.000+05:30

The very essential post from Dubai. It had to happen. An year and half and I was back here to spend 2 very memorable days. Of all the places I visit, Dubai still is the most fun of them all. Ironically, Dubai has been the high point of my US trip. And I had money to splurge this time so did all that I could not way back then. Including the Ice Lounge (Read at Radha's Blog about it). Or the stay at the extremely plush and epitome of grandiose, the Jumeirah Emirates Tower. It was luxury and fun at its best.

Plenty of things have changed since the last one year or so. Friends have moved up on the corporate ladder, most have matured a lot more, exotic cars are the order of the day, talks always gyrate towards "Hey, so when are you getting hooked up?", everyone comments on my hairstyles (or lack of it)...flight boarding. Post suspended here.

*************

Back home. Catching up on friends, kaju burfis, idlis and sambar. Wrong lane driving. Honking. Chaos. No sirens. Jams. Parents smiling. Icecream with my buddy. My firm bed that does not flop over when I sit on it. Cold water baths. No more potatoes.

Pack a pillow and blanket, see the world. You will never regret it. But come back home after some time.

Nightmares

2007-07-31T23:53:00.000+05:30

I am running blockbuster nightmares back to back every morning. And pretty nasty ones that jolt me out of my bed, sweating, holding my hair. You know, like the psycho movies they show complete with thunder and lightning.

Nightmare 1
I am charged for some crime in some place in Ghana (or some other African nation) and they catch me, put me into prison with mean looking people while my trial goes one. Finally I am convicted and they come searching for me in the overcrowded prison while I keep running from one cell to another (I assume at this point I have been make huge turns from one corner to another on my bed which explains the crumpled sheets in the morning). I am going to be executed and it is by shooting, so I plead for a lethal injection. They shoot and the alarm rings loud...I am sweating. Touch myself. I am safe. God bless the alarm clock.

Nightmare 2
I go to a barber shop in NY that is owned by Indians and ask him for a haircut. I don't remember what happens later, but at some point I realize that he has cut it so short that I am near bald. I shout at him, I start crying....I wake up. I touch my hair..it is nice and long. I feel it for a little while, can still vividly feel the coarse texture of freshly shaved head so want that feeling to go.

Both occurred early in the morning.

I think I need mommy food. These baked beans are killing me.

FMCG Marketing

2007-07-16T07:45:00.000+05:30

And I get back to my favorite topic of marriage, part of it fueled by a talk I had with Swati I had a while earlier and a part of it fueled by my utter amusement to the whole exercise, sometimes, that really leaves me in guffaws. If you have seen Hindi movies then a lot of it is not away from reality. For ex. how your market price (am I a cow? Ok, bull..gender correctness) goes up when you return from the US but plummets when you go to Kenya? Considering it takes more funds and guts to go to Kenya, so theoretically that person has been a very unique person unlike a mass follower like me. And even if you have been to the US how does it make you more suitable all of a sudden in 3 months. It is not like you attended Deepak Chopra's sessions here on vitality. You probably sat around like a slob on the couch switching channels (Refer previous post).

And why do all biodatas that my parents forward to me have dancing and singing as a hobby? I do not fancy "Ye mera dil' kinda nights nor would I take her to some place and say "Naach Basaanti naach..aaj meri izzat ka sawaal hain". It is a useless skillset to be advertised as far as I am concerned, put to use only when some member in the family gets married and is on the horse on his ass. And I doubt if my marriage would be on the rocks if she cannot sing or dance. If she is an accomplished artist then makes sense, bathroom singing all of us do. Just like all wannabe MBAs write "reading' as their hobby number 1.

Then there is the wonderful one liner "Slim, fair, charming". This is a standard template no one tries to fiddle around with. I like it, all I want is that does this also come with a life time warranty with an option to exchange if it stops functioning as advertised? If not don't put it or I will sue you if it fails later. Sue kare che, samjiyo haa!!

About Nothing

2007-07-09T05:39:00.000+05:30

What do you do when you are sitting jobless on a Sunday alone in your room watching movies back to back on the tube for the last 8 hours? You write a blog post, cos the mind can just sit idle for that much time. But you grope around a topic to write about. You are not a photo-shoto guy so putting up a nice photo and blogging about it is out. You find art over-rated and think that the lathe machine drawn by you in Engineering is a better form of art than Mona Lisa, so that is out as well. You don't enjoy different cuisines, eat only to survive with a single aim of putting on weight so food blogs are out. You find life usually very cheerful so dark posts about "Toofani Bhima and my stolen candies" is a no-no. Your work is always "top"-secret so you really can't paste it on your blog and talk about how line 5 makes your code runs 2 clock cycles faster. You can't write poetry and the best one you came up with was rejected even by your school magazine. You are not into adventure sports or body piercing so blogging about that is out. Music is heard to on the way to work and you just thought it was the Wimbledon opening match yesterday when it was actually the finals. You pursue hobbies only if there is a monetary end and that is generally classified as work by many so no luck there as well. Your love life has had one single affair with a fish in a bowl whom you lovingly fed till the neighbour took her away claiming over feeding and dysentery.

So what is this post all about? Or what is this blog all about? Nothing. Like Seinfeld. Nothing.

Loin King

2007-07-02T19:47:00.000+05:30

I must admit this post took a lot of time and coaxing from friends to appear here. Although it is not what they expected this would be. Plenty of posts that haven't gone beyond the draft stage for the lack of content beyond 4 lines. Till a talk with my mom last Saturday got me ticking.

In every man's life there comes a time when his parents start getting on the offensive and the man goes on the defensive. It is like the Animal Planet series on cubs growing up and then the mother lioness coaxing the young adult to go ahead and find a girl from the pack. It initially begins with a directive to find one in the same pack till it is found that the sample size is too small for the young adult to choose from. So the mother relaxes her directives and is ok with female lioness that come from the Tundra region as well. However Tundra being too far away and most market shers (oops share) pretty much captured, enter mother again with further relaxed guidelines. Go ahead even a tigress will do. But lions know little how to woo a tigress and they are bad swimmers. Then begin the counseling sessions as to how one should woo a female, how every female in a frame is a potential partner yada yada. This goes on and on till mother lioness finally loses it all, relaxes every condition..."Just find someone..I don't care if it is a beetle!!".

"But beetles have wings and I dont know how to fly. "

Shut UPPPPPP!!!!!

War It Is

2007-06-13T01:07:00.000+05:30

Gropeinsky and Baltzwashski were undercover agents sanctioned by Choos Li and Le Li to probe into the dark underground activities that Teen Chakke indulged in. Teen Chakke was Kaiser Soze, Mugambo and Independence Day alien all rolled into one. Little was know about TC's sexual orientation but it was generally assumed TC was gender immune. It was learnt from very reliable sources that post TC's visit to the desert lands in Arabia, much change had occurred and it was widely believed that TC no longer could identify good from bad, green from blue, girl from boy.

Gropeinsky and Baltzwashski (G&B) were the best sleuths that the Agency had and a lot rested on their shoulders to bring an end to TC's activities. There foremost task was to first find and spy on TC - check where TC lives, goes out, friends, workplace. However it was strongly advised to not enter TC's house for great unknown dangers lay there. Most were bio-hazardical in nature and intelligence sources estimated that TC also harbored several insects and rare species in and around. G&B were given gas masks and water guns to protect themselves should any contact happen with the target.

On the fateful day, TC came back to the apartment and committed a third felony when Le Li in consultation with Choos Li decided it was time to break in and take TC down. G&B moved fast, intercepted TC and performed what they were good at. TC was overwhelmed and put its hands behind. G&B booked TC for a third felony and asked TC to pay a fine and vow not to commit another felony which otherwise would lead to ostracization and other *tions.

Might be continued.

Veganboy

2007-06-02T20:00:00.000+05:30

I wish I were a non-vegetarian. People here just don’t understand what does one mean when he says he is a vegetarian.

Oh you don’t have meat. How about fish? No fish!! Then what do you eat??
My parents just let me loose in the farm to graze around. You see I am just chewing cud right now. All grass that is nice and green is good.

Do you like steak?
No I am a vegetarian.
Milk?
Yes milk is fine.
Oh so you are ok with the cow as long as you don’t have to kill it.
Yes I am. Infact they are looking at a few cows as brides for me. Thank you.

Do you want a beer?No. I don’t take alcohol.
Ahh, good boy.
Bloody American!! Dara Singh drinks milk!! And he can beat you black and blue. Or atleast that is what the movies tell me.

I want a veg burger. No meat, no eggs, no fish.
Then I have nothing to put in it.
Yes you do...put that cabbage, carrots, spinach and some jalapenos.
But that is free of cost.
Just put it will ya!!

Desi on Per-diem

2007-05-29T04:13:00.000+05:30

This blog is on life-support currently. It receives occasional oxygen cylinders from the municipal authorities which just about keep it alive. The owner of this blog is too busy absorbing new places and working his ass off.

War Memorial - Ignore the time-stamp, the distance. Appreciate that it has been taken from a moving car.

I think I have no fascination in seeing museums that have replicas of everything. Takes the fun element out. Here is the Shering II missile replica. That is the Spitfire replica. Groan!! Move on. The Harley Davidson rally outside was far more worth it. Or the pretty young things whose wardrobe is inversely proportional to the temperature. The black gang that shouts abuses into our ears for almost 5 mins as we walk on, barely 200 feet from Capitol Hill. An Indian restaurant that demands a 15% tip while we pick more saunf from the bowl. A couple canoodling at the War Memorial at 1.00 in the night which I observe since my other friends are dozing on the benches. A mother who breaks down after finding her kid she lost 2 hours ago in the museum. The naval officers in their white spotless uniforms flaunting it on the roads and shaking hands with people. A newly wed couple getting photos clicked in front of the White House. A long drive alongside the country with a sunroof and an occasional head bobbing up to catch the wind. Wise cracks and corny jokes.

Now thats my style of visiting places. Look at the life of the place than get into a tourist spot. To look at replica museums I would rather go to Wikipedia.

It's Different

2007-05-11T21:01:00.000+05:30

I am in a big country. Where everything is large. Gigantic. And I feel dwarfed most times. The car is huge, enough to fit in my entire existing generation and the future one, if and when it comes. That I can see beyond the dashboard is a boon. Switches go up instead of down, sun shines till 8 in the night, car parks can accommodate a complete Dharavi slum, roads are big enough to put 4 of our highways together. Men look like bulls sometimes and women....Oh!! They look good in all sizes. Doesn't matter which part of the world they are from.

The weather has to be the best I have ever experienced. Everything looks so nice and green. Almost out of some Karan Johar's movie. Wish I had a girl to go out on a long drive with but I guess I will just make do with my laptop for the time being. It very dutifully clings onto my shoulder and is very reassuring.

There is something that is very different from the other places I have been to. People are terribly courteous. Unlike most of us who won't hold a gate for somebody or won't thank for most things. But at times it just gets too syrupy, I mean I get a glass of water for somebody and the person literally goes ga-ga over how I got him a glass of water. In India, it is "Oye ch***ye...ek glass pakdaaana"). Or for that matter I can't take a U-Turn as I like, or there is something called "Yield" whereby I must let cars on the other side pass before I turn my car (Why?? Don't ask me). Do I miss that rudeness?? Actually yes.

It would be a blasphemy of sorts if I were not to mention my flight from Blore to US, which has to be the highlight of my trip so far. I have never traveled in such style before and am truly bowled over. Of course, old habits die hard and there were a few nice things that I pocketed in. I think the air-hostess saw me once but bah!! Who cares!! I may never again see her again and then I have paid (Ok, my company) for that ticket and I deserve all the goodies that I can lay my hand on. Saw some 10 movies during the entire flight and I must say it was a treat. Just had to change channels when there was a nice scene going on cos of an old guy sitting next to me.

There can't be a better way to describe the cliched "melting pot of all cultures" than the Dubai International Airport and the transit lounges. It feels huge and you really look lost after sometime in that hustle bustle. Of course, if you have a free phone at your disposal in the waiting area and you know couple of people in the city then you can yak and yak till the person behind you in the queue finally nudges you hard and asks you to move out.

It's a lot of stuff that one post cannot do justice to. And then there some intangibles that I cannot really express. It must be experienced. The water fountain, the loos (??), food, people, public services. Like Maggi Tomato Ketchup.."It's Different!!"

Indian to US

2007-05-03T11:16:00.000+05:30

There is a thing about most Indian carriers. You either love them or you just hate them. There are no mediocre performers here. Experimented with Indian (Airlines) for the second time since 12 years and hats off to them for consistency. The aircraft looked just as I had left it back then. They made sure I don't feel out of place by sticking to the same carpets, seats and air hostesses. Of course the ladies had fattened up and the carpets had soiled but hey, nostalgia does not come cheap!! A vintage Boeing 737 that can beat any auto wallah hollow in the noise and vibration championship. The take off was like a Ferrari roaring down the runway, loads of noise and sudden flashes of fire from the engine. What joy!!

In flight service and ambiance is like good old Doordarshan in the 80's. Not like the programs on the normal days, but on days when some head of state would pass away and one would listen to shehnais and sitars. Beautiful in-flight music and some delicious food. A muffin and a croissant spliced to accommodate a slice of cucumber and tomato. Wow! Sandwich and croissant, all in one. No spoons, no knifes, eat the Indian-dip-your-fingers way. No juice or beverages. Drink water, it is good for you. And hey, there is a small dry pineapple piece wedged between my window glass and the aircraft body. That's dharma for you. Eat some and leave some for the spirits.

Getting bored? No probs, they have in flight entertainment for you. Pick up from a choice of 4 Tamil newspapers. Don't know Tamil? No sweat, they have their in flight magazine for you which talks about socio-political issues and helps people prepare well for competitive exams by increasing their general awareness.

Landing is a lot more fun than takeoff cos the plane beautifully sways on the runway like a model on a ramp. And there is some harmless fun as well, the engines suddenly open up when the plane brakes. Looks scary but it's just a part of the design. Finally the airhostess greets you with a namaste that is very typically seen in Bollywood movies when a member of the family dies and his family stand in a line with hands folded, head down and really not looking at anybody. I can understand, they must be really sad that we are going off the plane. Where else can you find such love for the customer?

And why did I undertake this trip? You see, hope and visa are both four letter words and I haven't given up on the former. The latter just followed through yesterday. Accepting all US blog buddy contact details now.

Dark Post

2007-04-18T10:49:00.000+05:30

I don't blog dark. But for once I will break standard operating procedures. It was by far the most prestigious project I was chosen for. And life seemed very nice. Till the lady in the Visa consulate decides to end my party. Rejected on a B1 business visa application. A rarity of sorts, when my entire team has got one. Or that a B1 is seldom rejected for anybody for that matter.

So as I sit alone and watch the rest pack their bags and leave, I can do little but hope there is something better in store. Wishful thinking? Nope. Hope is another four letter word and I just haven't given up yet.

Eyebeeyum

2007-03-29T17:27:00.000+05:30

So I make my move. As I walked out of TCS today, for one last time (hopefully), there was a kid-like feeling of having completed the final exams and looking forward to the holidays. Here of course the holidays mean my new employer. Of all the places I have worked, my new employer is the one I am most excited about. Moving into pure play business consulting with the Big Blue, it is a break I was looking for.

Another 15 hours to go before I report to them. Just can't wait..tick tock tick tock...

The Great Indian MBA Myth

2007-03-13T08:35:00.000+05:30

Placements break records across the IIMs. Thus screams the headline, spawning a few more thousand wannabe MBAs. Most driven by the lure of the 1 crore + salary tag. Which apparently some guy bagged in this year and it is better than the one who bagged it last year. Sometimes my dad remarks that maybe he should go back to IIMA and ask them to offer him placement services again. Lakhpatis are passé, crorepatis are the new kids of the block - to steal a cliché. False. Time to break a few myths.

Of my association with several friends across campuses, I am yet to come across one guy who has broken even the 20 lakh INR barrier. And this includes the IIMs as well. Most of my acquaintances are in the range of 6-12 lakhs, right after an MBA. Which is quite a distance away from that one crore tag. And let's assume there are indeed MBA grads with such a tag, then it is just, at best, a figure less than 5. Which means of the top 15 bschools alone with an average batch size of 200 (200*15=3000), there are 5 candidates who managed this package. That amounts to 0.16%. Extrapolate this to top 100 colleges in India and it moves on to the third decimal. And what newspapers don't reveal is the work-ex the candidate had, the bonus component that was used to calculate the CTC (which at times is 200-300% of the actual salary and seldom realised in full, irrespective of the fact that you are Jack Welch) or that it is some Bahraini Dinar converted to INR. 12000 Bah Dinars is decent for the standard of living (purchasing power parity) in Bahrain, but convert that to INR (1 Bah Dinar = 117 INR) and suddenly the figure becomes 14 lacs INR and it looks huge!!

And as one moves down to the lower rung bschools, the story worsens. The range of packages offered moves in the vicinity of 2 lacs to 3.5 lacs p.a. Which is just as much a decent Comp Sci engineering grad will make right out of campus. Yes, some will rant about the job content, responsibility etc etc, but any person working right from the peon to the CEO will tell you that his job is very important for the organisation (which is quite true). Little relief there

Not that I am denying that an MBA from a good school does not add a lot of value, both monetary and otherwise, but at the same time it does not make you own a Maybach. Salary differentials between MBAs and non-MBAs are sometimes less than a lakh, depending on the sector. And rarely greater than 3x times. If you are in the tech sector then sometimes you could be better off being a techie than an MBA cos you are revenue for the company while the MBA is cost. You make stuff that is bread and butter for the company and if you have a niche skill set then the company will do anything under the sun to retain you. Something that it will not do for an MBA. Places like media and advertising where your qualification matters little and everyone comes on board right at the shop floor level

But sadly, the newspapers note none of these in their bid to grab a breaking news headline. In the process creating a mad rush for this degree. Most are not even clear why they want to do one, cos if it is money then I think there is plenty minus this tag as well. Some day I will post a compilation of the most bizarre reasons I have heard from candidates as to why they want to do an MBA.

Slapopotamus

2007-03-05T12:08:00.000+05:30

Just out of curiosity, during one of my classes (which was held in some 2nd/3rd grade classroom), I picked up a "classwork" book of a kid lying in the rack (as in the book was lying in the rack, not the kid. Subject verb confusion). CURSIVE WRITING. As I flipped through the pages a deep fear caught on me. Fear arising from two thoughts. One, my own horrifying years in primary grade and the dreaded cursive writing subject. I still write part in block and part in cursive. And the millions of slaps rendered on my cheeks by mom, dad and jasmine-in-hair "class-teachers". Only cos of my inability to write in cursive completely and a supposedly bad handwriting (which I think is pretty fine!). Two, from the thought that someday if I get a kid, he/she will have to go through this subject and I will have to spend sleepless nights teaching him/her when I can't write it well myself. And if he/she inherits this one gene of mine, then we are all in for more slaps.

In a totally unconnected area, please take a look at this website. Glide is an on-line "OS" that is moving towards the web application/portable desktop arena. Very interesting.

In yet another finding, after years of observations, I finally know what I want. It took a lot of soul searching and evaluating samples across countries for consistency checks before arriving at the final results.

Results: Wanted a girl with a broad jawline and double chin. A square face. Ms. Hippo anyone??

CST-Thane Slow

2007-02-20T18:34:00.000+05:30

This is an inspired post. Make that an ordered post. About Mumbai. And my adventures. Of all things bright and beautiful, there is the brightest of them all. Mumbai Metro Rail. It has a world of its own albeit a short one. You could have lived all across the globe but if you haven't been in the Mumbai local (local = train. Bombaiyya lingo) you haven't seen it all. The first time you try to catch a local (emphasize on the try) you experience a rush of adventure, sweat (your own and that of millions other around you), thrill, pain and more depending on your gender, income and age, at once. If you manage to make it into the train, you spend the rest of the time looking out /asking/looking at the route maps on top of each door to figure out when your station arrives and which side does it arrive. 2 days and it comes naturally to you. It is amazing how people can stand in that 2x2 cm space per person, read a newspaper and talk on the cellphone as well. Come evening and it is time for playing cards, vegetable cutting, bhajans and anything that will raise eyebrows and more for any other non-Mumbaite.

Local trains have space for all but I feel they are best suited for dimunitive people. You just have to stand in the crowd and you get thrown in and out alongwith them. The catch being you must be careful enough to be thrown out only when you wish to be. As you get smarter you can also get a free massage on the way home by just squeezing into the right places. Or you learn how to ignore those abuses that come your way, since there is nothing personal about them. How not to look at the pan-chewing, four button open, hairy chest gujju fellow who keeps talking loudly on his cellphone or the grumbling old Maharastrian who goes into a fit just cos your shoe touched his leg while you were sitting

But the city has a life of its own. Where else can you go at 1.00am in the night and still chillout with your friends. Or just take a hike on the beach with some paan over coffee. Watch a few Bollywood stars while you wait to enter a restaurant. Look at girls who, in my honest opinion, are the best most cities can offer. Mumbai always held a great deal of fascination to me but this trip has been a tons of fun. More so cos I lived like a Mumbaite, travelling to work everyday. Of course, near and dear friends made it all worth it. Enough to make me want to come back again.

Vada Paav and Kaanda

2007-02-15T19:32:00.000+05:30

Feb 13th. Two years ago was flying the same route, same time and same day for my SPJain interview. It changed life quite a bit. Will something good happen this time? Dekhte rahiye Hum Log. Ding dong.

You know your sense of humour is really taking a beating when this happens:
KBC episode on Valentine's Day -
Shahrukh Khan: "Karan and Farah are credit loving people". First thing that strikes my mind is that they like to revolve their credit and like to use credit cards extensively. Victim of the industry I work in. Yes. When you hear credit and debit the entire day this is the first thing that strikes you. Oh, SRK meant they love to claim credit for anything good that happens

With nothing much to do on weekday nights here in Mumbai, I flipped channels to this awesome interview with Arun Sarin, CEO of Vodafone who recently acquired a majority stake. Expected the interview to be hard hitting and full of numbers, but for some 10 mins the interviewer keeps quizzing this man on some mundane issue. Finally the interviewer says "Ok lets get to more serious issues..What went through your mind when you got this deal??" #$%#$%!! THIS IS A SERIOUS ISSUE?? Even if he was thinking of some Charlie Chaplin movie what difference does it make. Or does the interviewer expect people to think the exact same things that Sarin thought before they go for their deals. What is this..some sort of a Pythogoras Theorem?? Wonder how Sarin kept a straight face throughout.

Current task - Escape daily molestation in local trains and reach office/room safely with all limbs intact.

Fire - The Sound

2007-02-09T16:07:00.000+05:30

I am beginning to hate these fire drills my office has. It is fun once, maybe twice but every now and then it starts getting on your nerves. Especially cos you never know whether it was a drill or an actual fire. Each time the siren blares out loud, and we sit through for a minute or so making sure that the alarm did not go off by mistake before we pack up and leave via the fire exits, which resemble the scene of a mass exodus from the war torn lands of Somalia. Only difference being most are happy to move out and some are happier to see some live action and probably watch a few systems go up in smoke. The assembly area resembles a mini mela where all that is missing is the baloon waala and the cotton candy.

To top that, each time the gaurds try to plug in a fire hose to extinguish god-knows-what, one of the following happens:

There is no water in the hydrant
The alarm stops blaring and it is an all clear
It is closing hours and employees are busy boarding their buses
They are still trying to screw in the hose

Meanwhile, people like me who are the big show-off boys of my office, try to act as if they are wasting precious time in these stupid drills when there are million dollar deals to be clinched. Usually this stems from the inability to check one's mail containing some gooseberry talk on some friend's some girl some years back.

Next time, I no running till I see smoke.

Jab Main Chota Bachcha Tha

2007-01-21T15:33:00.000+05:30

As an 8 year old, I would always wonder how somebody could trade in "Shers". Weren't they dangerous? And would question my dad that how come there are "sher" markets in Mumbai; why aren't they in the zoo or in the jungle? Predictably, like all dads, he gave me some whacko answer about how these guys are very strong and they can handle many lions at one go. Someday want to get back at him for such an innovative answer.

Ever noticed how the typical Indian family on a two wheeler balances itself defying all laws of gravity, motion and thermodynamics. Chunnu and Munnu on the fuel tank jostling for the horn and maybe breaking into fights as well once in a while on a moving vehicle. Mummy behind with a new toddler, wearing a saree and sitting the "one-side-found-only-in-India" fashion. Balancing herself and that toddler with some balloon or lollipop, drooling and falling sideways every now and then, looking at some auto driver trying to attract the kid's attention (or maybe the mom's if she still looks good). Papa in the middle trying to maneuver his gaddi in an equally maddening traffic with similar compatriots doing the same stunts. Any Angrez ki aulaad would have sued the parents by now for putting their child under grave risk but we have just grown up that way. That is what makes Indian traffic so amusing.

Or how all the prams and cradles cannot give a baby a perfect round head that a pillow made up of cotton seeds and a hammock from some old sari can. Cost- less than Rs. 10. Take sports – An exam pad and the question paper rolled up as a ball is enough to start a full blown game of cricket. Innovation comes naturally to us. Which is the reason why most sports never caught up here. Too costly to play. Never drank Bisleri till I was some 17-18 years old. Post that must have fallen ill atleast twice due to some water contamination. Whatever happened to a weak immune system that kids have. Must have had so much sand, pencil tops, erasers, “leads” in a pencil as a kid that my mother started rationing these items to me lest I would eat away all the excess. Nothing happened ever. Today one foreign particle and doctor, gargle, vomit, stomach cleansing and liquid diet.

Ho hum. And just for kicks...me decades ago. Found in an old album.

Phased Out

2007-01-11T12:27:00.000+05:30

I have figured out something. On analyzing patterns over two years, I have found that I blog heavily when going through a dark phase. Most of those posts are anything but related to the period. When I am going through a bright phase I blog less and little. When I am in a neutral phase I blog some non-descript musings.

Which phase am I currently in? You will never know.

PS: Is there any "Find out which phase you are in" kinda test on the web?

Old Man Typing

2006-12-30T22:00:00.000+05:30

It seems to be getting better by the year. If I thought last year was the best one I had ever, then this one went one up. As usual, good surprises happen just when the day is about to end. Juggling two handsets at 12.00 midnight, the first call, a cute movie, the flowers, the cake, and the chocolate. Loved every bit of it. It was more special than I had ever had and someone made it so.

And just as the day slips by (as much as I try to hold on to it), I look back on how much life has changed in the last one year.

Yes, that is about it. I am just looking back…it was a general statement to bring the post to an end. Kya socha, main senti ho gaya??

Warm Winters

2006-12-19T11:26:00.000+05:30

There are times in your life when more important things take precedence over blogging. Like cold. Like work. Like surprises. Like a warm winter feeling that refuses to let go. Going through one of them right now. And I wish it never ends. Couldn't have asked for a better way to end the year.

It has been a very beautiful year so far and I hope I am not jumping the gun early. Some upheaval in between but in retrospect it was good. I can still move on pretty fast. Rediscover people. Rediscover places. Like Java City. Like Coffee Day. Like Infinitea. The smile refuses to go and the fun refuses to stop. You know you are enjoying life when you can work non stop 24*7 and still have the same energy levels, may be more, throughout. When the phone suddenly becomes active all of a sudden. When you no longer have to wait for someone to ping you. When even a rip-off resort cannot take away your fun.

'06, you have been the best so far. Touch wood.

Asinine Tales

2006-11-29T08:45:00.000+05:30

Long, really long ago when I was a small kid, I learnt my first swear word that was worthy of censorship. Ass. Ass was used for a variety of swear purposes and it soon was one of the most used words in my vocabulary. Till someone introduced me to its cousin. Ass-soul. No that is not a typo, that is exactly what I thought it was. The soul of an Ass. You could be anything, soul of a crab, a larvae, a toad, heck even an amoeba but to be the soul of an Ass was really something. I often wondered what was so derogatory to be the soul of an Ass but the fear of looking dumb in front of peers ensured that I never asked. In the meanwhile, I learnt a few four letter words (like fool, foul) but this one remained.

And then came some Oxford educated person and said it was not ass but arse. Yes, it made a difference. So now you can be the soul of an Ass (it was a respectable position) but not that of an Arse. The extra emphasis on "R" was critical lest the effect would not be felt by the person you are swearing at. A few more years, another revision and the soul soon got replaced by a hole. Gosh!! So no more ass and no more soul....it was the cruelest thing one could be. Of course swearing with the right emphasis on "R" and "H" soon became cumbersome and one final revision took place. Arse made way to the original contender...Ass.

Now you were the hole of an Ass. No specific locations were given, but it was generally believed that the hole was at the posterior. The only problem was that now we were referring animate objects (people generally) as a part of a body that had little life of its own. It is like calling "You Butterfly Wing or Centipede Leg". In other words, it was the objectification of a living being. Every other swear word know to mankind is generally a behavioral trait that "bad" men/women possess but this was not a trait at all. Heck, it was something that most had never even seen. But then the fear of the unknown is greater than that of the know.

PS: I got my new PDA Phone (Cingular 8125). It's gorgeous. Cost a lot but should be worth it. Happy I am.

An Extraterrestrial's Guide to Earth

2006-11-15T09:22:00.000+05:30

Dear Alien,

Season’s Greetings!! (In case you don’t have seasons there, then that is your first lesson, Earth has seasons)

Upon your landing you will be contacted by the USA alone. No other nation will attempt to contact you cos they are too busy covering the news “WE ARE NOT ALONE”. But resist all efforts to land at USA. Cos they can nuke you. Ask for landing permission at Tonga (map attached in appendices). At best, they can just puke on you which is not so bad.

Upon landing, don’t make the mistake of asking “Hu is the president??” It can create a lot of confusion since Hu is the president of China and Bush might take offence. (A specimen tape of this conversation, widely circulated across the Internet, is attached in the appendices). Oh and speaking of the Internet, get yourself an Orkut account upon landing. It will prove very handy in knowing about Earthlings (and specifically Indians who are not red but are available in all other colors). You can select your specimens for experimentation based on their scrapbooks and the communities they subscribe to. It is perfectly legal to snoop around. Choose those who will accept your friend request without knowing you. They are the desperate ones and will pay you to take them away from Earth.

Learn to drive with protective gear on two wheels. It will prove handy and will not raise any suspicion. In case, you still want to go to the USA, the two wheels will do no good. Go to an American Embassy early evening and stand in the queue for an appointment the next day. They will look at you and if they like your face or if you can tell some funny jokes they will give you a VISA to go to USA. Else you repeat the process.

I suggest you stay in Tonga or come to India via Pakistan which is the easiest route to enter India. You can also do some sightseeing in Kashmir with some fireworks and then come down to Delhi. People in Delhi might be too busy to notice you so come to Bangalore further south. People here are most receptive during evening hours when they are stuck in the traffic. You can enter any bus you want to, speak to its passengers and get off from where you boarded it. The passengers will love you. Bangalore is a little backward though. People listen to radio more than they watch TV, so you will have to live with that.

When you plan to leave (which should be soon, lest you have to pay taxes), make sure you stop by and pose for photographs with everybody at some disc (No, not your UFO, dummy, a Disco!!). Some of them may make it to the next day’s Bangalore Times in the Page 3 section. They will bless you for the rest of your life for giving them their 0.0001 sec of glory.

And finally, don’t fly over the PM’s residence in Delhi. It’s a no fly zone.

Yours truly,
-.- .- -. .. ... .... -.- .- .- --. .. .-- .- .-..

2nd Anniversary

2006-11-08T12:04:00.000+05:30

It has been 2 glorious years of blogging. 95 posts, 3 cities and a ton of my life on the web. The first anniversary was never documented but then I am known to forget even my parents' birthdays.

No single person has remained throughout with me on this long 2 year journey. As in, no single person has continued commenting right from start to date on my blog. There were phases, people would comment for a period and then suddenly stop and someone else would take over. A beautiful cycle. Of which only one person remains the longest patron, 666. Of course there are many who read, drop by, write those occasional anonymous comments. Then there were some friends I made via this channel, most whom I have never met but feel closer to than people I have met. Many of my friends started blogging after I did and wound up, some within 2 months. But I continued. (Maybe that speaks of my joblessness, but I will tend to believe otherwise).

There is a complete battalion that I would like to thank beginning from Blogger creators to the anonymous commenter. My boss is com

Status: Single

2006-11-05T18:13:00.000+05:30

It is the season of marriages. Every second person I know is either getting married or planning for the same shortly. Attended a college senior's wedding who, well, married another of my senior and it was the first great love story I saw that culminated to right upto the fire. They looked stunning and beautiful as a couple. And now I hear a close HP friend who is due to tie the knot soon, not to mention another who is speculating about it. (Wish I could disclose their names, but for the sake of privacy). Then, of course, there is our very own Swati, a few more seniors and now some batchmates. Each one of them going from committed to married in a few months from now.

It suddenly makes you feel old and all grown up. It makes you go mushy everytime you see a girl who is single. It reduces your gang of bachelors. It cuts down on your avenues for leisure with friends. It brings the harsh realisation that you might just be one of the last buggers to get married and you will have to foot the additional food bill for each of your friend's spouse without any noticeable increase in the gift value. And if they have kids who are 4 plus years old then that is an extra plate as well.

Mommmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!

Dialysis

2006-10-31T08:46:00.000+05:30

A recent finding by an expert team, comprising of one person, has discovered that parking can be done for free in Garuda Mall. The team has detailed its findings in a paper that is to be presented in the 44th Annual Cheap Tricks Convention. Apparently, one can enter the Garuda Mall two wheeler parking bay and when asked to pay for the parking fees, claim that he/she has no money and needs to withdraw from the ATM located in the mall. The attendants then let the person park asking him/her to pay while leaving. Enjoy your stay at the mall and on your way back, when the other attendant at the gate asks you for your parking ticket, claim that you seem to have lost it. A petrified look, and an absolutely honest voice is crucial for this act. With a growing line of bikers honking, revving their engines behind you, the attendant will let you pass, asking you to be more careful next time. This is currently undergoing more field trials for fine tuning and gap analysis.
* Wanted thick skinned volunteers to try this with four wheelers and in other malls as well.

A semi-annual feature that newspapers in India indulge in is the declaration that some IIM is setting up shop in Singapore/Dubai. It has been in the news since I was in Dubai and is still in news. Curiously, it is either IIMA or IIMB. IIMC never features (or has it??). Of course, nothing ever happens and it is always stuck with some ministry for approval. I am beginning to wonder if this is just a wild story conjured up by the press to time with the CAT and the GD/PI process.

And oh, Friday the 13th just reversed back. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Yes Sir!!

2006-10-19T22:55:00.000+05:30

To borrow a line from Gaurav's post, it is indeed a full circle. Mount Carmel Institute of Management, today called me to take sessions for their second year students on communications and interview skills. A few years ago, I would try to attend their Cul-Ah fest just to participate in the debates (and sometimes look at the girls), standing in a line while they branded us like cattle (don't blame them, they were forced to), trying to escape that occassional lathicharge from the cops and then competing, with the added pressure of an overwhelmingly female crowd staring at you. It was an ultimate test of your grace and persona, and the deep inherent desire to strut one's feathers over other prospective peacocks made it that much more difficult.

Does it feel good?? Boy, it does!! More than all the classes I have taken so far and I haven't started this one yet. Its quite heady actually, from asking permission to enter to giving permission to enter.

Clarification:

Contrary to wht most people thought, my previous post was not as serious/heart-wrenching as was perceived to be. I wrote it in a totally different state of mind (read - half laughing) but the effect turned out to be quite different. However, was pleasantly surprised at some reactions. How well blog-connected we are. :)

Breaking News

2006-10-16T11:07:00.000+05:30

A long hiatus from blogging and I am back!! Why am I back? Cos I could cry no more and drown my sorrows with a glass of tomato juice. It still is crystal clear in my mind, that fateful day, Friday the 13th. It was a no match. I don't care. But it was hitting below the belt. And I care. Jahan maarna hain waha maaro, jahan nahin maarna wahan kyun maarte hon?? It's a cruel unfair world and no, Munnabhai is not for real.

Someone broke my glass, someone broke my bike stand, someone broke my heart, someone broke my trust...Someone is always breaking something of mine. Enough!! Thus from the depths of muck and dirt, there rises a new SuperZero with a plastic baseball bat who will now take on the world on his own. He needs no helpers, no accomplices. He is an army of his own and he obeys to none but himself. He will not take anything lying down...umm...no, he will take a few things lying down. He will be everything that Olive Oyl wanted. You can only dream of becoming him but you won't be able to. For he is the "Rejected One".

Coming soon to a website near you. Parental Guidance Not Advised. Suitable for Toddlers.

KA-02 EM-9107

2006-10-03T10:52:00.000+05:30

A typical gonda raaj!! A bright Sunday morning, 9.50 am in the morning. Just got out of my house for my classes, started my car and off I was. Barely 500 mts away, a motorcyclist comes in from the wrong lane in full speed and joins my lane. I swerve to the left to avoid the bike, then pull up to him and yell. Our man immediately stops his bike in front of my car, the pillion rider gets down and runs up to my window. I pull down my window and before I can say a thing, he tries to hit me. I pull up the windows and lock my door. The rider is off his bike and they both start hitting my car and trying to yank my door off. Am unable to move my car cos of the traffic pileup behind and his bike in front. All of a sudden, a huge mob of auto drivers, passerbys gather and start hitting my car. All my thoughts of getting out of the car and talk to them had vanished since the mob looked in no way interested in my explanation. And then out of nowhere, the biker yanks off my rear view mirror on the door and hits my windshield. CRACK!!! The entire glass cracked!! That did it and I immediately got out of the car. A supporter yells at me to compensate the biker!!! I yelled back that I haven't even touched him. The supporter asks if the bike has had any damage, obviously they reply "No damage". And within seconds the crowd vanishes, including the biker. Leaving me to nurse a broken windshield and dented panels.

This was not all. A bunch of traffic cops stood barely a 100mts away from this place and apparently took little note of this incident. They refused to entertain my complaint, saying that this is a manhandling and vandalism case and must be reported at the normal police station. I go to the Chandra Layout police station to lodge an FIR armed with the bike number (KA-02, EM 9107, Black Pulsar) and the inspector on duty, with a real bored look on his face, asks me what happened. I narrate and 2 mins later, he just continues looking into some file. Finally he breaks his silence, and asks,

"So wht do you want to do?".
"I want to lodge an FIR. "
"Do you know their address??"
"No, but I have their number"
"What will we do with the number? We will have to go to the RTO and get his adress and it is a holiday, today and tomorrow. Do you know how he looks?"
"Yes, but isn't the vehicle number a better evidence"
"Ok, write your FIR in Kannada on this paper. We will see what we can do"

The last statement was as superficial as it could be. It didn't convince me one bit that he will even bother going behind this guy. I did not file an FIR, and am still contemplating about it. I doubt if they will even bother to look into this cos on the face of it, it seems like a small thing for them. Just that if the guy goes free, what stops him from repeating this "goondagiri" again??

Mixed Bag

2006-09-25T12:43:00.000+05:30

This is a compilation of a lot of posts that I had been running in parallel, but either don't have time to complete them or they are too small to go in as individual posts. And I am going to write this real fast before my consultants swoop down on my desk and drown me with more work

I am going to purchase a PDA and am deep into researching for the best model and price. Currently zeroing on iMate JAMin and HP rw6828, unless one of you suggests something better. Accepting money, donations, suggestions and smiles now.

Had been to KR Market (yes, you read it right...the dreaded City Market in Bangalore) and it still continues to amuse me. The best place in Bangalore if you have a bulk purchase to make and it is a treat to watch Mom haggle with the vendors and get the best quote. The stench, the weirdoes (I am sure they thought the same about me) and a very strong human spirit to go back home having outsmarted someone, so that one can have enough money to eat. Touche.

After the seminal work on "The Discovery of KIDA and GIRI", with recent inputs from Crystal Blur, I am now finalising my next piece of a big puzzle that will lead me to Truth someday. The research is on how lack of comments cause depression even though your blog might still be experiencing the same number of hits. It further causes the "revolt" genes to, well, revolt and prevent the victim from commenting on blogs which do not comment. This builds up like mis-matched frequencies on a cable suspended bridge, canceling out each other and reaching an impasse.

Saw three movies in four days, a record of sorts for me. Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind (muah, what a movie), Khosla Ka Ghosla (muhaha, what a comedy) and Lage Raho Munnabhai (mamu, what a sequel). And btw, I am yet to come across one person who laughs "muhahaha" in person. "Haha", "Hehe", "Ho ho", yes...but have never come across a "muhaha". So I am classifying it as a sophisticated laugh meant only for e-channels.

Dubai Again

2006-09-12T12:29:00.000+05:30

Dubai Marina at Night

Dubai has been preoccupying my thoughts all of sudden in the past few weeks. Suddenly am missing the place like never before. Considering I stayed for barely an year and it has already begun to feel like home. I think it had to do with the video of the song "Kya Mujhe Pyaar Hain" from the movie "Woh Lamhe". It has the heroine dancing at a very famous fountain in Dubai Marina, one that has bright yellow spot lights beneath every nozzle and the water bursts out in spurts, looking like blobs of lava. The nozzles are embedded into the pavement so one can actually walk through the fountain. Of course, the place where the fountain is located is just as beautiful, the air permeated with the smell of strawberry hooka smoke. There are yachts and powerboats just overlooking into the bay and some really beautiful residential apartments.

Then, there is the very American "Hard Rock Cafe". I thought I really had no use for that place since I don't drink, but my friends dragged me along on the last day of my stay there, and it was heaven. No booze, but the ambience and the entire setup was something I had never seen before. A Chevy pinned up on the ceiling, a Harley on the wall, a guitar by Clapton himself, and tons of other memorabilia.

The beach. Had never been to a decent beach in India (other than the Malpe beach, off the coast of Mangalore) so this was one beautiful thing. A Burj Al-Arab at one end made it look majestic and the clean white sand on the other gave it a nomadic look. The walks we took in the months of December and March along the beach, bare feet, sometimes hugging a jacket to ward of the chilly wind, running along, giggling, or walking lightly on the wee bit of the shore where the waves just stopped, in silence, wincing once in a while when we stepped on an occasional shell.

The beautiful and enormous malls, that I would go and look around in awe but never have enough money to afford most of the things other than regular groceries. Just want to go there once to shop all that I could not afford then. The variety of groceries one could pick up from the stores, the strikingly rich watches, great electronics....

Been making tons of imaginary lists of things I want to buy or do if I ever go back to Dubai.

Looks like this post ran amok. Sorry, just am too seeped in nostalgia.

Mini Mini!!

2006-09-01T09:05:00.000+05:30

The Mini is coming to India!!! Although it will be only by year 2009-10 and will carry a heavy price tag of INR 30 lacs+ (by initial industry estimates), it will still be the car I will await most eagerly (provided I am still in India). Only Maruti Swift comes close as far as the Mini is concerned, so now begins the debate - Swift or wait for the Mini to hit?? Or maybe by then I might just be able to afford the Mini.

Personally, I am a big fan of all BMW cars, ever since I sat in a 1992 model BMW 3 series, which had a sunroof, awesome upholstery, superb power and driving comfort. The engine was as smooth as it would have been back in 1992 and what amazed me was that even after 14 years, the car was good enough for another 14 years, both in terms of comfort and driving pleasure. Plus the body looked rock sturdy like an Ambassador. Wonder what would be the mileage for a BMW in India?

Brain Swarming

2006-08-25T12:54:00.000+05:30

Technically this post should have been a continuation of the "What It Is?" series but since it takes a sharp curve into my work (which may not be generalizable), I will not like it to be a part of that anthology. Nevertheless, this should break quite a few myths about the jazzy work that MBAs are portrayed to do. Dilbert is so right.

The media portrays MBAs to be high flying, jet hopping, laptop lugging dudes/dudettes. Very true, only that it happens atleast a year after you have sunk into your job. Till then it is MS-Word, Powerpoint and Excel which will be your companions for all the reports you generate (I wonder if one even looks into them) or all the client proposals that you respond to. And if you thought a lot of brain storming goes into these proposals (which is true, but not always) then sample this discussion I had with my consultant the other day when we were "brain storming" on a proposal.

Consultant: Don't you think we should move the company logo from the footer to header?

Me: Well, I think then the header will look cluttered and anyway I think our standard template does not allow it.

C: But I think it would have more impact if it were to be on top.

Me: Well, we could but then we will have to move the title somewhere else.

C: No we can let that be there. And how about including the client's name as well?

Me: Well, we never include the name, just their logo.

C: Actually I think it is better if we don't include the client name and let the company logo be as it is. What do you think?

Me: Ya you are right, I think we should let it be this way. [$%^#*&]

Total Dilbert!!! He suggested the changes and while I was refusing to incorporate them, our man does a turn around and restates what I have been saying. So much for claiming credit. We spent 5 mins on this non-issue just for the sake of an issue.

I clicked on a picture and dragged it onto a Word document to copy the picture in the document and my consultant exclaimed "Hey, how did you do that? Can you show me again?" After 5 tries he got it right and he was beaming as though he just won a million dollar contract.

Or maybe I am just stuck with the wrong chap.

I Hate

2006-08-22T09:35:00.000+05:30

People cribbing about how short they are or how thin they are or how they are going bald. (When will I look like Hugh Grant?)
Myself for never telling a girl "Will you be my lady?". At a 0.01% strike rate that most people portend for me, I should have struck gold with atleast someone who chose not to strike me with her hand.
Chinese/Japanese/Taiwanese (anything that is a badtameez...oh, the attempted humour is getting sadder by the day) cuisine unless it is Maggi/Top Ramen/Shanti Sagar sweet corn soup. All authentic Oriental cuisine stinks.
People who have so little time for themselves that they watch 3 movies in 2 hours, by forwarding all the song and fight sequences, just to stay abreast with all the latest happenings on the *ollywoods. (The last time I saw a complete movie sans any worries and without any breaks was just before my placements)
The itch of a two day old beard that makes you scratch and make weird faces at the mirror.
For not having taken a bath before going for my driving test eons ago. The photo on the license is a grim reminder of the Rowdy Ranganna look.
People who write blogs about some obscure thing like "I Love - I Hate" just to keep the blog alive on a boring Tuesday morning.

TWTW

2006-08-13T22:31:00.000+05:30

A roller coaster of a week this one was. Full of highs and lows. Tons of classes, so much that one day I almost thought I would collapse while waiting for an auto. Major golmaal on personal front too, but bah!! Life always finds a way out (Chaos Theory).

Then there was that disastrous class I took on grammar...phew!!

"Is when a conjunction"

Me: "Ummm...no"

20 mins later, while we discuss the answers, when pops up as one of the answers for a conjunction. After angry protests for misleading them, they grudgingly agreed. And this was one, I must have made god-knows-how many blunders there. The first time I felt I had totally messed up a class. Just about scrapped out of the class. I am never going to take grammar again.

Someone got a car too this week and it was nice feeling. As in people from my batch have now started buying cars and land. No longer the freshly out of college kids blowing up money on coffees, movies and clothes only.

And finally there was a hugely successful event I conducted today. It was an awesome feeling, had my best buddy to co-judge it with me and a jam packed hall to cater to. It was rock-n-roll right from the word go.

Oh well, I think I will live for another day.

Tongue in Cheek

2006-08-01T15:19:00.000+05:30

Indian roads have some of the best scribbled grafiti on walls, on trucks, on bullock carts, anyplace where one has the will to put it up. Sample this one written behind a truck, "Jinne jaldi thi wo guzar gaya" (Translated: "Those in hurry have passed away"). Or this, "Pehniye Rupa ke underwear" - somebody scribbles below, "To Rupa kya pehnegi?" (Translated: Wear Rupa's (a brand) underwear...then what will Rupa wear?). In one of the loos at my workplace, on top of a hand drier - "Rub your hands while it blows". The latest of Javed Jaffery in Pizza Hut ads - "Meherbaan Kadardaan, Zeenat Aman" ?????

Two days ago, I asked mommy on the latest update on my marriage front (I am itching to get married - tons of reasons, most mentioned already in previous posts) and this is what she had to say - "24 years you did nothing and now you are expecting us to deliver results in 2 months". Silence.

Ignorant Me

2006-07-31T10:19:00.000+05:30

It was a VS Naipaul book that got me started on this and before I knew, I was deep into reading up about Middle East history, the Taliban movement, Persian history and the blend of Persian culture with the Arabs, and Islam in general.

The search slowly led me to Wikipedia and through some more links I was on to the Rennaissance Era of Europe, the Reign of Terror, Battle of Haldi Ghatti, Oskar Schindler, Abwehr, the Cold War, Operation Desert Storm, Najibullah, Beirut and more. Every day is making me go deeper and deeper into what happened eons ago. How things have blended to be what they are today. And it is getting very interesting.

Why am I writing this? I don't know.

Hell"P"

2006-07-21T12:46:00.000+05:30

I swear I was going to put up a post sooner but the blogspot ban by Indian ISPs delayed this post. (thank you dear ban) And in meantime all I could do was to read the 40-50 blogs that I subscribe to, via Google Reader. Which is when I realised I had to take stock of my subscriptions, there were some blogs that were dead, some that wrote a lot of nonsense and no longer fun (personal opinion) and some that went on ranting about how their life is bad and how nobody loves them etc etc.

Have really never understood this one, if life is so bad that one blogs publicly about it and under ones own name, then I think the best remedy is to go jump in a well. There might be sympathetic comments on your blog but what makes the person think that people are really sympatising with them and not typing it while watching an episode of Seinfeld. Plus there could be others who could be chuckling over it (probably the person who causes agony, for it just might bring glee to that person most). I was just telling this to someone the other day, never let gaurd of your self esteem that the world laughs at you. Cry once, someone will comfort you, cry twice, they will scream at you, cry thrice, they will drop coins at you.

But well, the blogosphere is infested with heartwrenching tales of trauma of how a girl broke up with a guy after 1 week of courtship and how her/his life now is a hell (teeehehe...sorry, couldn't control, alright serious again) or how the doodhwaala bhaiya did not come in the morning to deliver milk and hence life is a hell (wonder if there is any other connection). Anything slightly away from the median and life becomes hell. They take the entire glamour out of hell...poor Satan should be suing them for copyright infringement and brand dilution.

Wow, I actually wrote sense on my blog. Sorry, it won't happen again.

The Class Act

2006-07-09T18:57:00.000+05:30

T'was the most mentally satisfying thing I have ever done. If you know me well you will know what I am talking about.

Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron

2006-07-06T15:07:00.000+05:30

I see a movie that drifts past me everyday. Every morning till night. One that reminds you of the supremely funny movies that Naseeruddin Shah, Farookh Sheikh and his ilk made in the late 70s and early 80 as part of Film and Television Institute of India. Subtlety of life captured in all hues and angles.

It begins with an alarm, a hurried glance at the newspaper while brushing, few spits and gargles, the biological tasks, a hurried breakfast and then the sprint to catch my bus. My world begins now, I sit at the same place everyday in the bus, like every one else. I doze away in the most uncomfortable position for the next 1.5 hrs of my journey just like everyone. I made the mistake of staying awake once and trust me, the sight of 30 odd people sleeping with their mouths slightly open, necks drooping, jerking with the bus, hitting windows or the adjacent seats every now and then is not a very pleasant one.

The bus drops me off to my workplace where some few hundreds more alight from similar buses and walk in clockwork fashion to their respective buildings and cubicles. Almost everyone is speaking on their cell phones, which brings me to my all time favourite grouse - what is so important that it cannot wait. But I guess I will never understand this one.

[This part is censored since it describes my work and it is supposed to be confidential]

The routine repeats in the evening, just that few sleep now in the bus, again on cell phones and I try to read/do some paper work that I carry home but in vain. I give up and stare aimlessly outside the window, brooding about why I don’t blog often (what a lie!!). Look out of the bus when the driver narrowly scraps through another vehicle to see if he hit him or did the other guy shout out any abuse. Or look at the same poster that has same model everyday and wonder what it would take to get that girl. Maybe a daring rescue when terrorists strike?? Yeah that should impress her, and off goes the next 10 mins planning all those pseudo matrix like moves I would perform. 2 hours later my stop arrives and I get down to walk back, mentally drained. Cursing all along about the time I waste commuting.

Only to begin the same routine the next morning.

Hey Ram!!

2006-06-23T23:47:00.001+05:30

Been away from blogosphere for quite sometime, but am back again today!! I am going back to Bangalore since I have been posted there in the Banking division. Finance in an IT company and probably will be doin quite a bit of marketing.

It was our last day here in Khandala and me made my biggest faux pas today. Was compering the event and when the prize distribution came in, was supposed to announce the prize for the topper in our Exit Quiz that we had. Confidently I asked the audience on who won the prize. Several guesses later I gave up and announce that the prize went to "Ramaswamy". There was a gasp and shock around the room, Ramaswamy himself was stunned. He walked down to receive his prize and get his snap clicked. A few minutes later our co-ordinator walks in, and she asks me,

"What is Ramaswamy doing with that prize?"
"He won it right??"
"HE???"
"Ya, you told me right...??"
"Ramaswamy...!!! Noooo!!! It is Ramnarayan!!!! Ramaswamy got the lowest score!!!"
"OHHHH!! Now what??"

And then we just burst into giggles, and guffaws that had to be suppressed since the event was still on. Post the event, finally made the announcement, got thulped by Ramnarayan who resembles Yokozuna and then my usual stuff, bumps!!

But still can't stop laughing over it.

Young Boy Duped By Cabbie

2006-06-13T21:53:00.000+05:30

A weekend at Mumbai and Pune and again a misadventure. It was all fine till Pune, trouble began when I had to come back to Khandala from Pune. While I waited for the state transport bus to Khandala, a shady looking man came to me and said we could go to Khandala in the cab, faster and only a bit costlier. I agreed and we boarded the cab.

45 mins later, the cab was stuck on a long winding hill in a big traffic jam that ran for atleast 8-9 kms along the ghat. Which is when I realised something was amiss and asked him when do we reach the expressway (the road that leads to Khandala) to which he replied there is no expressway in this route. Confused I asked him where is he going and he said he was going to Belgaum (in a totally opposite direction). Apparently there was another Khandala on that route called Purv Khandala.

After a few abuses to the cabbie, grumbling I got down and with no vehicle going down the hill, I trekked down about 6-7 kms with my bag and soon started getting a bit scared with the light fading fast. Luckily down came a truck that offered me a drop till Pune from where I took an auto back to the bus stand and boarded a rickety looking bus to Khandala. The entire ordeal took about 7 hours and the cross country ride felt typical "Swades" types!!

I am not going out of Khandala till my training ends. It is a costly affair.

Aati kya...

2006-06-04T22:50:00.000+05:30

The food is scrumptious, the place is heavenly, the accommodation is luxurious and the climate is a different experience all together. Khandala is probably the best hill station I have visited ever and probably the best place I have visited as far as being in the lap of nature is concerned. For most part of the week we are in the middle of clouds, clouds are every where, open the door and it comes into your room. Some call it romantic, I don't know what is to be romantic so I just call it awesome.

That's a chameleon shot just outside our resort near the fountain. It also means we have a fountain/waterfall in our resort. This something we have been taught or lets say, it comes naturally to us MBAs. Drop names and show off.

As my training progresses into its second week, it has been a very productive and learning week. CEO Ramadorai, our CFO, CTO, HR head, VPs, Practice heads; everyone has visited us in the last week making us feel very elite in TCS. Call it branding or marketing, its working well and is slowly transforming me into a loyal TCSer. It was a treat when we met our CEO and had an informal session with him. Plus that very memorable group snap.

I am trying hard to put on weight here; hogging away to glory but doesn't look like I have gained a single gram. Gyming and swimming, life was never this good. Next worry...where will I be posted.

I broke my self imposed rule of writing about what I am doing, eating, seeing etc. My apologies to my patrons. I will try to perform better next time. Please hold on to my stocks, don't sell them yet.

The Discovery of KIDA and GIRI

2006-05-26T18:47:00.000+05:30

After intensive and extensive research for the last 3 years, I have finally found what causes crushes, love, babies and breakups. Ok, what causes babies was discovered by Adam eons ago but the rest have been discovered for the first time on Earth. I hope the Timbuktu Convention on Enhanced Human Disruptive Behavioral Patterns accepts this paper and confers an honorary doctorate degree to me.

With this introduction, lets plunge straight into the findings.

The human brain consists of two types of cells, an active cell called KIDA and a dormant one called GIRI. It is the KIDA cell that triggers the first reaction upon the subject’s first interaction with the opposite sex (and off late, sometimes the same sex too). The reaction then results in the production of certain bio-chemicals that will either not gel with the existing chemicals or will blend well. If it does not gel well, then the KIDA cell ends its function for the time being. Else it continues to work overtime. This phase is called “Crush”.

Upon prolonged triggering of the KIDA cell, the GIRI cell responds by generating receptive biogens that combine with KIDA to form KIDAGIRI biogens. This KIDAGIRI biogen is responsible for causing love. Making love happens via some other biogens which is not the concern of my study. This phase is called “Love”.

Sometimes, the KIDAGIRI biogen suddenly stops operations and disintegrates into its individual components. The cause for disintegration has been linked to overuse, or stronger influence of new KIDA cells disrupting the existing stable molecular structure or the complete breakdown of the symbiotic relation between the two cells. This phase is called ‘Breakup”.

Enough bantering, next post from Khandala where I will camp for my month long training with TCS.

Chapter 4: What It Is?

2006-05-17T20:54:00.000+05:30

Month 9:

The only month you count in days. VP-Sales, CEOs, Area heads, Analysts…this is when they all swoop down onto the campus to pick you up. Sometimes getting that Air Deccan Rs. 500 ticket seems easier than getting into that dream company of yours. Ok sorry, I got carried away; Air Deccan tickets are still harder. There are some who crack it on their first attempt, some who get multiple offers, some who get multiple calls but no converts and some who get none. Outcome is the same, if you get a job you end up chatting with your beloved one, if you don’t, you still end up chatting with him/her.

There is an interesting phenomenon that takes place here. People who crack it on Day 0 come down in hordes to sympathize with those still left, telling them “tumhaara number bhi aayega”, people who crack it on Day 0+x at a higher pay packet sympathize with those who cracked it on Day 0, telling them it will all even out in the long run. The rest claim they got a better profile and pay does not matter. Well, each one to his own.

On a serious note, there can’t be a better feeling than to be placed after donkey months of hard work. Or maybe there is something better, but it is too pornographic to be discussed here. Of course, nine of ten times you are never satisfied with the job for various reasons but the feeling is still something. [Don’t link this statement with the preceding statement]

Month 10:

This is the best month to enter a B-school. Classes are conducted in absentia. You love everybody you once fantasized of thumping. “I love you and I will miss you” mails start flying off mailboxes like spam. Tickets back home, this time are booked atleast a week after classes get over. The rooms are deserted since everyone is busy spending time with their buddies. Everything has a “the last” connotation attached. So goes the last walk, the last dinner, the last bath, the last…makes you feel like you are walking the Green Mile.

The farewell happens and it is well attended. For once nobody complains about the management or the timing or the items put up. They just wanna have fun and take photos.

Slowly the exodus begins, some shed tears, some sniff, and everybody hugs. Last minute phone numbers are exchanged and then the car drives away. Keep in touch you say.

Epilogue:

You are back home, meeting friends after a year and life seems nice for a few days. Or so you think. Cos your swagger is back and that spells ill. Suddenly you feel lonely, longing to go back to your B-school pals. Much money is spent in calling them up and keeping in touch for the first few weeks. Then you slowly come down to earth, more like acclimatization and commence normal operations.

So there goes my take on what it is to do your MBA (maybe it holds true for other post grad degrees too) and how it changes you as a person. It is grueling but then the most memorable study time you will ever have. The changes it brings in you as a person go a long way in shaping your destiny. However, perceived marital bliss still remains independent of this achievement.

Chapter 3: What It Is?

2006-05-11T12:25:00.000+05:30

Month 6:

Your second and final term begins. (If you have done a two year course then your final year begins). You were initially home sick when you first came in and now you are sick of home. The vacation was the most boring part of your life in the last 1 year. Your hostel room never looked more inviting ever. The tension of studies has largely eased of you and you begin to relax even before you have started classes. A number of extracurricular activities such as visiting the city, the beach, the river, the malls, the bus stand, the local market (any place which gives you an excuse to leave your campus) are undertaken with your buddies. The absence of your friends during vacations strengthens your bonds with them when you meet them again.

You enter class without bothering about grades. For the first time you attend purely for the love of the subject and expect the prof to deliver a sermon that will transform your life and help you get a job. Unfortunately, the prof thinks nothing of it. After a week of trying to concentrate in class you get back to your usual routine of eat/sleep/chat/play/blog/surf in the class. You go a step ahead, stop coming to class and catch up on all that sleep you sacrificed during your first term.

Month 7:

The damned groups are back. This time it is the placement groups. You use some random algorithmic techniques to determine who should be a part of that elite group or which group you should join and then plunge straight into forming the group. The group forming exercise is the most important part (and generally the only part). It can take anywhere between 2 weeks to 1.5 months before you can formally christen the group. Nobody does a thing in these groups but a lot of plans are made. Of course, the castles that you build in the air and the pep talk do some good to your ego.

The profs no longer give a damn about the course they teach. Every class invariably degenerates into a placement talk and how one should have a goal set out in life. Every prof tries to outdo Deepak Chopra. Some profs promise you plum jobs through their contacts and it is immediately observed that they get the highest student feedback ratings at the end of the course. Expecting them to even remember about the promise made in class is asking for too much.

Month 8:

“Our Father in heaven, give me today my daily job, and forgive my sins, not as I don’t forgive those who sin against me…”. The prayer never leaves your lips since this is the pre-placement month. The only people who do some work now are the placement committee, busy asking everybody to ready their resumes and photos. Companies start confirming the interview dates and you begin to pin mark the companies you will apply, brushing aside the others. More often than not, the company you have brushed aside is the one that picks you up.

As the month draws to an end, you try to remain calm and composed. You try not to act nasty or do something that will annoy Santa Claus and label you as a spoilt kid. You need all the luck right now and rightly so.

To be continued…

Chapter 2: What It Is?

2006-05-02T13:05:00.000+05:30

Month 3:

Thus begins your first fight. And your first crush (at a B School). After hiding your cookies for the 100th time, you finally lose it and scream at anyone who dares to come in front of you. And you then later speak about it to a girl/guy in a manner which conveys that you are telling her/him your darkest secrets. A sympathetic nod and touch by the opposite sex does the trick and you are hooked, for the first time here. Suddenly you try to sync all your thoughts and activities with her/him and the rest be damned. The sniggering behind your back is back!!

The first events/competitions are held in this month and are met with enthusiastic response (for the first and only time...maybe it has something to do with impressing the new found loves). You now start cribbing about the system, the profs, the dean, the sweeper, the warden, the…everybody whom you can only fantasize about thrashing with a baseball bat. You rue over how you left a high paying job to come here and find friends echoing the same. No one really listens in these conversations, but everybody speaks.

Month 4:

Someone tries to hold another event this month, no one turns up. Cos they are busy either breaking up with the Month 3 crush or breaking up with back-at-home crush for Month 3 crush. Studies take a back seat for this month till the final exams for the semester hit the next month. The booze parties begin and trips to the discs increase. You start loving classes like organizational behaviour or HR or some other gyaan subject where no pre/post learning is required. Just come, sit, listen/sleep/chat/mail/play and go.

Your grades start dipping but so is everybody’s...well, almost everybody and you don’t mind, altleast not now. You have more *pressing* matters to attend to. Of course, you are going to cry and repeat the Month 1 crib again when the final grades come but for now enjoy. Calls back home drop considerably as you start enjoying yourself and feeling at home. After several iterations, you have finally found a group that you can hang out with for the rest of your term here.

Month 5:

The dreaded month of exams hits you. During the run up to the exams, you start blogging extensively or reading comics or doing some useless activity for which you suddenly have all the time in the world. Your emails increase as more people send forwards. You book your tickets to go back home even though you very well decided 5 months ago that you will not visit home till the end of the course and will utilize the break for something productive. Never happens.

Notes, if any, are xeroxed from friends who are nice enough to let you use them. Mini study groups form. The study groups do the following:

Gossip about the latest tit bits
Have extended dinners and frequent tea breaks. Sometimes late night walks too if there is a girl in the group
Pretend to share knowledge and notes
Suggest crash courses for subjects they have thoroughly mastered and don’t want to waste time in doing it all over again with you

The outcome is however always the same, you end up with a feeling that you know nothing after the sessions (which is quite true) and you get back to studying the same matter all over again by yourself.

The exams begin and all your extra curricular activity comes to a standstill. You start a countdown for the last paper and as soon as you finish that you run back to your room to pack and leave by the next flight/train/bus which always leaves within 2 hours of you having finished your paper.

To be continued...

Chapter 1: What It Is?

2006-04-24T16:52:00.000+05:30

It’s a month now that I am done with my course and have come back. Many people ask me how does it feel now after doing an MBA (like it is some sort of massage) or what changes do you feel after this course (like it is some transplant surgery). Anyway, for the benefit of many taking a plunge and many who have, here I go on a mini series on my musings about MBA.

Disclaimer: Don’t base your decisions on this series. I am quite abnormal and very abnormal things happen around me that keep me entertained.

Month 1:

You enter your school of dreams/nightmares (whichever applicable). The score from CAT/GMAT is very fresh in mind. You walk into the campus with an attitude that says you are the coolest thing to happen to mother earth since Elvis Presley. If you have scored high enough in the entrance exams then you don’t leave an opportunity to brag about it and show off (like I did) and then quite unashamedly say that well, for you it was quite a cakewalk. Or if you didn’t then you walk in with your previous credentials claiming CAT was just a bad day but you outperformed everybody else in the GD/PIs. Or you walk in like the rock stars, one who rules the world and got in merely cos of his aura. Either ways, chances are you get sniggered at behind your back...happens to almost everybody.

You enter class on Day 1. It is a Financial Accounting class. You look extremely confident cos you have been tracking 3 stocks for the last 20 days and feel you know everything there is to know about finance. The balance sheet looks like a cakewalk and the income statement and cash flow statement a metamorphosis of the balance sheet. You tell yourself “This is the easiest A ever”. Of course the test, 2 weeks later, shatters the myth but for the time being humour yourself. The swagger still hasn’t gone off you.

You go back to your room, divide all items equally between your roomies and label your names on them. Unwritten code of conduct for month 1: “Don’t touch my cookies” (I maintained that till the end, although my roomies never honoured it). You hang out with people from your city and sit with them, resisting any move that threatens the bonhomie.

Month 2:

Most myths are shattered here. The profs that teach aren’t exactly gods and Google still is the de facto standard for all reports. You get you first D and then all hell breaks loose. First you look for the guy who got an A, initially he is GOD!! Then rumours fly how he had a Fin background and hence Fin was his strength, wait till the other papers come in. Or that he fudged. Any lame excuse to give substance to your assumption that you got a D cos of him and not cos you did not study. Your little gang of city friends slowly fades and you look at people with similar tastes to hang out with (as always).

The grind gets on to you now, the sleepless nights begin. Assignments and more assignments. The first bakras (and usually the only ones) are caught for plagiarism and it is generally put forth as a cardinal sin, never before seen in the institute. They are threatened of rustication but generally just a D or F is awarded. The core subjects begin now and you feel miserable about everything in life. Phone bills to your home town shoot up and if you have a girlfriend/boyfriend then you shed a few tears too, wailing at how both of you must be strong and ride these rough seas. You suddenly begin to relate to Schindler's List. You justify that you are quite good just that you are on the wrong side every time and try to put in more hours of study. RG (Relative Grading) takes its roots now. Sharing comes to a nadir (including the labeled goods in the villa).

To be continued…

Random Rumblings

2006-04-11T15:13:00.000+05:30

Time to push up the dwindling hits on my site, so up comes a new post. Sometimes I wonder why do I blog?? Self adulation?? Or self degradation?? One of the two, but definitely not for problems affecting mankind/India/politics blah blah!! Much of news is anyway devoted to it and why lease my precious space for the same.

Or I could add snippets like the interview I saw the other day with Salman Khan’s lawyer.
Prime time news: (Loads of background music making it look like a Ramsey brothers thriller show)
News Reporter: How was Salman when he heard the verdict?
Lawyer: He was calm and quiet. (Yeah, we expected him to jump in joy and hug the judge!!)
News Reporter: Did he have water or something while the trial was on?? (Groan!! Now this is killing time and wasting airspace!!)
Lawyer: Yes, he had a few sips of water but other than that he did not have anything. (What does sipping water have to do with the case?? Beats me!!)
News Reporter: Will Salman appeal to this verdict??
Lawyer: Yes, WE (Don’t you forget me!! Grr!!) will appeal to this verdict.

I wonder who was the hero here..Salman, the lawyer who got his 1 min some secs of fame or the newsreporter who asked such intelligent and probing questions.

Or I could write about gender behavioral differences. I keep hearing girls always wishing/greeting their female counterparts as “Bye Sweety”, “My darling” or complementing them; “You look stunning”, “Man, it is so gorgeous” or hugging them and touching them at places not permissible under the law. I am just trying to imagine what would happen if a guy did the same to another guy; chances are that either the other guy will stop talking to him for the rest of his life or will start stalking him for the rest of his life (whichever ends earlier).

Enough writing for this post. More in the next post…which as usual will never happen. Non Sequitur right!!

Horn Ok Please Thank You

2006-03-22T23:50:00.000+05:30

No where in the world do they so publicly display their love towards noise. My ears were craving for that long, loud burst of a horn and the first thing I did when I touched my car was to just let loose and play “Jack n Jill went up the hill and God knows what they did, for Jill came mumbling after” with the car horn. Ah, it felt so nice!! A part of me had returned and every time I saw a truck which had “Horn Ok Please Thank You” written, I greeted it with a loud honk (it was more cos the guy was driving like a drunk bee, but for once I will take the blame).

Bangalore seems little too hot for comfort. Maybe I have been spoilt, like some of my friends here commented (“Stop acting like a NRI”) or maybe it really is hot. Had enough things to do to keep me busy over the last couple of days and seems like I will never get to enjoy a decent vacation ever. I join one of my dad’s firms this week for a temporary business development role and will continue in that capacity till I join TCS.

Good part: Stipend, perks and good experience.

Bad part: No enjoying the vacation and more work.
Why can’t I ever just get up late, watch TV and laze in a pool!!!

My juniors caught me the day I landed here and booked me to judge the Personality event at the college fest. It was a nostalgic feeling; two years ago I was organizing it and the junior was participating, today she is organizing and I am judging. So looking forward to it, to see how is the new crop at college.

One more observation; of late my blog is turning out into more of a personal itinerary, looks like I will need to revamp it a little. So hopefully no more posts (temporarily) on what I am doing, what I am eating, what/whom/where I am watching, etc. Maybe I will write on the “Socio-economic status of the backward tribes in rural Telangana region with special focus on the middle age population”. Just a thought…

Silence Of The Lambs

2006-03-17T18:34:00.000+05:30

What happens when there is silence around you? Do you hear a buzz? Do your eyes sway from one side to another like a bell? Do you feel creepy? Do you long to see a living creature?

That is how I am feeling presently. This place is getting more and more deserted by the day. Everybody’s leaving and the place gets emptier by the day. Thought I had fallen in love with this place but looks like I have fallen in love with the batch. 125 people and I know each one by name, personally and enough for me to write a page (and a book) about everyone. Still can’t remember more than 25 names from my undergrad batch. The course gave me a job, a degree but more importantly it gave 125 connections and friends. Some so dear that I realized only when they were leaving how much I would miss them.

The things those were different here:

Ate food from stupid plastic containers for the last 10 months
Drank milk, cold, from cartons (and tried saving it from a villa mate who used to use that chocolate flavoured milk to make tea. Grrrr!!)
Went for walks almost everyday around a scenic (and later stinking) lake
Developed a recipe for Maggi that was a hit
Lost my temper mildly just twice in 10 months
Saw more girls cry for various reasons than I saw in my entire life (some cos of me, some cos I was there and some…god knows why!!)
SMSed for the first time and regularly in the last few days (irrespective of how much I hated the SMS culture)
Wrote dark things on paper and buried them under my pillow (Eeeks!! Lecter will not be too pleased about this)
Had enough cheese to last a lifetime (2 kgs in 2 weeks) and nine varieties. Just two more varieties that I want to try and will have them before I leave
Laughed more and more in weird situations.

Thus ends my stay in Dubai. Done with my MBA here and I leave on the 19th back for India. Bye Dubai. You have changed a significant part of me, for the good and this will go down as the most memorable and impactful 10 months ever.

Next post from India (maybe from Mumbai Airport).

Post Script: It rained again today. Once again it rains just when I am about to leave.

Poor Lonely Me

2006-03-05T16:57:00.000+05:30

10 months have gone by. Some 30-35 girls passed by and hundreds more in this girl rich country. Life started with a bang here when I saw something that was enough to send the most senile creatures galloping away!! But that was the end of it. The lake never offered any more nymphs and I was still the lone single boy.

Still remember the first time a batchmate called out my name sweetly; up I went like a faithful dog only to bloody realize that her Yahoo Messenger was not working and she wanted me to fix it so that she could chat with her boyfriend. 1 down on Day 3. Some more went down the subsequent days as it soon spread that I am “Mr.Yahoo Messenger Fixit”. I discounted some…not my type. Left with a few and they were picked up by then. The local populace seemed very fine, just a wee bit tall for me (not that I am complaining, just an observation). Of course, not that I had a major chance with them...at best could just ogle. Nothing really changed, in India I used to watch the Andersons in action and here I observe how the Hilton in Paris functions.

And as time slowly draws to a close here, I tell my mom, “Find one for me!!” before the stock runs out (of both, the eligible girls and the hair on my head!!)

Wheel of Life

2006-02-23T20:52:00.000+05:30

A full circle it is. Was selected by TCS during my BE days (never joined then) and was today again selected by TCS as a Business Analyst. Took quite some time to get this offer, Cap Gemini delayed giving me an offer for nearly 2 weeks and then made a ridiculous offer which I rejected, tanked an interview with a consulting firm, gave Infosys first round and TCS second round in the span of 18 hours and TCS made an offer before Infosys. Profile seems good and I think this time I will take it.

Will be back in India in a month’s time. Ah, will miss this place and while I am here, will make the best of it. Roam, freak out and just chill, something I held myself from doing for the last 9 months. Don’t know if India will seem the same again, quite used to this place now

Wifes, What Do I...

2006-01-27T11:58:00.000+05:30

Was watching Salaam Namaste a few days ago and found it quite enjoyable. Good movie, but the prize definitely goes to Javed Jaffery for that hilarious role as a pseudo ranch/land owner. Cannot speak English for nuts and delivers some rib-tickling statements. Probably some of these could be used as JAM topics.

Some Gems:

Ghosts of the kicks not listening to the talks (Laaton ke bhooth baaton se nahin maante)!!
Short term mammaries (supposed to be memory)
Wife working, husband jerking (ooppsss)
Main gooday goodiyon se nahin khelta (When Preity says "Have a good day")
I don't give a crocodile's arse!!
When in Rome do the Romans!!
Ye koin India ka sulabh sauchalya nahin hain, jahan khulne waali cheez bandh nahin hoti aur bandh hone waali cheez khulti nahin hain!! (When Saif tries to check the kitchen cabinets)

And of course, the dumb Australian wife who keeps saying "Sorry" for every thing that Javed asks and he then says "Egjactly" like she has understood it all!!

Jinxed Days

2006-01-20T22:32:00.000+05:30

Some days are just plain bad. No matter what you do, you will end up in a mess. Infact even if you don’t something comes and hits you right on your face. Had 2 such days in the span of 3 days. Everything seems to be going wrong…I bunk my only class in a long time and am caught bunking, miss my first bus for this semester and as luck would have it, the prof decides to administer a quiz which I obviously miss. Publish the penultimate issue of my college newsletter and just as we are patting our backs, a huge controversy is created. Playfully go and hit a friend on the head with a book and she gets a migraine attack.

But whenever a day like this occurs I remember my dad and the day when he had 11 accidents in the same car, and I say to myself, ”Well, it isn’t so bad…not yet”!!!

The Mines of Moria

2006-01-08T11:51:00.000+05:30

I am waiting for the worst time one can ever spend in a B-school to arrive like slow death. Quite an irony, it is supposed to be the single claim to fame for every B-school but it is the darkest and murkiest period one spends in a B-school.

Placements.

It is when the whole world turns topsy-turvy, the once good friends turn into competitors often going for your jugular. Money is at stake here and money can turn the best of people into savages. Everybody is smiling or so it looks. Super-super-super specialized groups that go into a huddle everyday discussing various strategies and trying to share gyaan. Or atleast they try to show that they are sharing info. The fervor is bound to go up as the placement week comes in closer and closer.

And if there is someone who still does not push you down to go up then it can mean only two things:

Either he/she is not interested in that job

Or you have earned a friend for life.

Cake & Stale Food

2005-12-30T14:08:00.000+05:30

So I am 23 years old today. Whats new? Loads!!

To begin with it was the best 12.00 midnight celebration I ever had. Some 35-40 people who landed in the villa, the pre-cake cutting speech I gave (though might be able to gain some sympathy), the assault that followed, the fungi infested pasta, the rotten tomatoes, stale rice, alu sabzi, cake that crowned my head, the bumps and a tryst with the water hose that followed after that was what made it so different. There was someone who actually ran a countdown every hour that ticked by till the clock struck 12.00 am, right since 29th morning. CRM initiative? I am not so sure!!

Something that makes it so different is that for the first time I am not enjoying a holiday on my birthday. Instead have loads of submissions for the 31st so will spend the evening working on them. And I am not at home (not that I am complaining).

The day is still half left...I wonder what else is in store??

What Do You Think?

2005-12-21T16:37:00.000+05:30

I hate it when profs come down to watch interviews with business leaders on the tube and then ask us, “So what do you think of it?” between commercial breaks. Heck, I think nothing of it.

“Did you notice his eyes?? They were sparkling”
No, I didn’t. I am happy but not gay.

“Even at this age he was full of energy. Look at his vision”
Dude, if I were paid that much I would be double that energy. To top that, I would also be on TV. And yeah, vision…just cos he is famous does not mean everything he speaks is “vision” and everything we say is crap. Uske bolne mein kya jaata hain!!

“Did you notice how tactfully dodged the difficult questions??”
Not answering and beating around the bush does not mean he is “tactfully” dodging the question. It shows his ignorance. If I were to do the same, you would have given me fewer marks for class participation.

I hate it when movies are shown to you as cases and then you have to actually analyse them. Takes the entire thrill out of a movie. Watch a movie for 3 hours and then spend twice that time analysing that movie. Often you feel like you are a part of the censor board. And if the movie is some HBR drag then it is twice the torture. You can’t stop falling asleep during the movie and you repeat your movie performance during the analysis as well.

“What do you think of his attitude?”
Hey, shut up and watch the movie!!

First Blood

2005-12-01T11:29:00.000+05:30

Drew first blood!! Got selected by an Australian consulting firm, PHD Consultancy to do market research for them in Dubai and Abu Dhabi. The assignment would last for 4-6 weeks and will also get a very handsome stipend (isn’t that the good part!!). Some nice perks as well. Now where is my Market Research textbook???

Fun Lies In The Eyes Of The Beholder

2005-11-19T21:48:00.000+05:30

I sometimes feel like kicking the daylights of the person (I stop cos my physique and good sense prevent me from doing so) but in retrospect they are genuinely funny. Things that you will always remember as time passes by.

Of the few hours that I get to sleep, my roommate takes away most of it whenever he comes to the room, high on spirits. Born with a natural disorder of snoring once alcohol level in his blood crosses a certain level, his snoring is loud enough to wake up even hardened sleepers. The first time we heard it we thought there was some bulldozer razing down our room. Serious!! And every night I feel like getting up and just pushing a pillow up his face. But then it never happens for when I get out of bed in the morning, one look at his peaceful, baby-like slumber and my heart just melts away. The routine repeats every night and I grumble again. Yet, the pillow never appears, for the gem of a person he is.

Walking Mosquito

2005-10-31T19:55:00.000+05:30

Bangalore has gone from bad to worse. My eyes have again started burning and watering when I drive on the roads. Dirt bikes have a great market here, for every road looks like a dirt bike race track. Driving a car is a bigger nightmare…I got stuck in a traffic jam for 30 mins just 100mts away from my house (it was virtually unheard of in our residential locality).

Quite funny. When I left Bangalore, I was homesick and now that I am back, I am villa sick. Ok not so much but on a weekday, when everyone is working, it can get painfully boring when you have got used to live-by-the-minute routine. Wasn’t feeling sleepy all those days but just when had to meet my friends, I had to try hard to not fall asleep. (Blame it on one of the million Murphy’s Laws). No, they weren’t boring but the long drive to one of their places had sapped out all my energy. Bangalore roads again.

One last thing. I finally succumbed to peer and parental pressure and purchased a cell phone. It still does not feel right deep down but looks like there is no escaping that wretched device now.

When I began typing this post I saw my first mosquito in 5 months (Dubai is too hot for mosquitoes) and the best part was that the mosquito was walking (quite a rare sight). So I decided I would not kill it and instead gently nudged it. Up it flew and soon vanished into the vast expanse of my room. And just as I finished the last para it came back to sit on my thigh and give me a nasty bite. WHAM!! SLAP!! SLAP!! SLAP!! Mosquito dead and my own blood in my hands. Need to eat a little more now to regain that blood.

My Longest Two Hours

2005-10-26T01:37:00.000+05:30

I couldn't have hoped for a worser start for my vacations. All geared up to leave for Bangalore, I finished my last exam and rushed out to catch a transport to the airport. We went singing all along the way, and recounting that we will not see this place for the next 12 days. I reached Sharjah Airport and merrily went to check in for the flight (first one to check in) when the guy at the checkin counter looked at my ticket in a weird manner and then asked me to go and speak to the airlines office.

I assumed it to be some routine check and went to the office and showed the lady my ticket. She took it, fed it into the computer, once, twice and then looked at the ticket carefully and said "Sorry, ticket has expired. Ticket for 25th September. Today is 25th October". It took a few microseconds for the shock to register and then it struck me with full force that I had booked tickets for the last month and not this month (Elementary, but critical error). First reaction was, can something be done with this ticket for today's flight.

"No Sir, the ticket is invalid. No refund or transfer"

Ok, can I now get a ticket for today's flight?

"No Sir, flight is fully booked"

Any other flight out of Sharjah?

"No Sir, no flights for today." (I could not afford a next day flight since then I would have no connection from Mumbai)

By this time, I had totally lost it. Nothing struck me and it was a numb feeling. When all my good friends came to my rescue, spoke to the office guys and later the office people told me that they might be able to offer me a ticket after the checkin had closed and if there were any no-show (vacant) seats. And that would be a good two hours later.

My friends had to leave and there I would be all alone, waiting for a smile from the booking guy. Somebody gave me his cell (I still have no cell) so that I could use it in any case of emergency, somebody gave me cash to book the ticket, someone else gave me his credit card in case it is required and the rest were just quite sympathetic, telling me not to worry. And knowing fully well that if I don't board the flight, they will get their cards, cell and cash only after they come back.

The next two hours were my longest ever...I did not sit, I did not eat, I just stood a few feet away from the counter waiting for the clock to strike 3.45pm. And just at about 3.35pm, the booking guy smiled and said that they can offer me a ticket and that too at half the price because of a no show!! God be praised and the good man be blessed. Purchased the ticket and ran to check in, then immigrations, and final security check. And when I entered the waiting area what a moment that was. The whole SPJain junta that was boarding the flight literally started cheering, whistling and clapping. Trust me, it felt like they were more happy to see me board the flight than I was.

Blessed I am to have such friends.

PS: I am writing this from Mumbai Airport and the entire airport has Wi-Fi connectivity. WOW!!

Mama, I Am Coming Home

2005-10-17T17:17:00.000+05:30

One more week. On the 25th of this month, I will touch Mumbai and then on reach Bangalore in the wee hours of the 26th (if all goes well). 10 days of meeting up with people and mommy-food!! Will blog next from Bangalore.

Greet me with rain, Bangalore...

mChq

2005-10-11T11:55:00.000+05:30

It is out!!! My first project in a company has finally seen the light of the day!! I did my final year project in developing security plugins for a mobile-to-mobile payment solution and it was recently lauched in India by Airtel, Visa and ICICI bank. Feels good to see a technology that you have been a part of.

Money Bhai

2005-09-23T14:42:00.000+05:30

Always wanted to invest in stocks but were afraid of getting your fingers burnt? Or just did not how to do it? Then you should try MoneyBhai, brought to you by Awaaz (CNBC's hindi channel)

Just register yourself at the site and they give you 10 lakhs rupees (virtual money) to begin with which you can invest in stocks. The game is very realistic and the stocks move exactly as the market moves. Infact, it is just like any normal trading, the difference being that the money is virtual and you win/lose nothing other than that virtual money.

Highly recommended for novices, will teach them a thing or two about stock markets and is also good fun. We are, infact, having a competition here on who will have the largest portfolio at the end of 2 months.

Theory of Relativity

2005-09-12T21:09:00.000+05:30

I am going to propound a new theory, although it has its name plagiarized from a previously existing, non-usable theory. The scope of this work begins with me and ends at me. Any other person in the greater proceedings is totally intentional.

Science is not absolute. It is relative. You need a 0 degree Celsius so that you can define 100 degrees. Scores used to be absolute some time back but not for the last 2 years. It doesn’t matter how much I score but it matters more how much have you scored. For without you, I am a lesser/greater man. In most cases, because of you I am the lesser man. Now since I don’t have a scale to make my line bigger than yours I am going to erase some part of your line. Ha-ha...beat that...hey you can’t rub my line, not fair…I did not rub so much...wait I am gonna rub more….rub rub rub rub (no pun intended).

My nights are doomed. I have to study because my roomie is studying and if I sleep he will/might get an edge over me. I bet he must be thinking the same, but it is like game theory…who will make the first move? Raising hands in a class does not guarantee that the prof will look at you and ask you to speak (he does not have so much time) so just speak out and louder than the others, and while you speak make sure your name tag is visible else your class participation marks will go to someone else. Sab relative hain.

If you have just googled and found some new resource that can give you a competitive edge over others, don’t share it. If you do, then be prepared that someone else will use it before you and gain more marks. Be wary of the answers that people tell you during a quiz, cos they will tell you an answer that they haven’t marked and since you know that it is not what they have marked, you will go ahead and mark something else. When results come out, you would be surprised to know that it would be the option neither of you marked. Sab relative hain, bhai!!

So final conclusion, “Your rise is inversely proportional to my rise, within a given time frame”

Postulate 1: “The sum of all rises and falls is equal to 0”

I Don't Know Why

2005-08-30T19:54:00.000+05:30

I don’t know why…

Girls wear t-shirts with gyaan written on them if they don’t want us to read them…they always think we are staring at something else rather than reading it (perverts).
HP stock has soared by almost $10 ever since I have quit HP (did my exit make so much of a difference??).
Bus drivers everywhere are bad drivers. We nearly crashed into a BMW the other day.
Blog postings nowadays only happens when someone from my gang posts. Herd mentality.
The washing machine in my villa runs for 24 hrs everyday. It has moved about 6 inches from it’s original location.
I never gain weight/grow taller irrespective of what I do.
I cannot differentiate how I speak to a guy or a girl. Thoretically, God created us all equal, now if only someone would tell the fairer sex about this.

Any answers??

Dead Man Talking

2005-08-12T12:06:00.000+05:30

This post comes in after a long break. I am way too busy to maintain the blog at the same frequency as I used to before. Inspiration comes in short bursts and by the time my hands reach the keyboard they vapourize. Quite a few things happening and that keeps me busy too. It's a pity that I could not document most of it.

Is my blog dying or I am??

Oh wait, just as I write this, there is this girl sitting opposite to me, performing her usual inventory control (counts her hair everyday...the missing ones are entered as bad debt). There is another raising her hand with her characteristic, "Sir". One guy cannot just understand how multiplication becomes division if taken on the other side of the equation and has already taken the discussion to a 4th Standard level. One has dozed off in the first bench, right under the nose of the prof. I/Another/Many am/is/are busy chatting/emailing/blogging/playing games. My neighbour is looking into my comp…look away, you @#$#!!

Geez…and I thought MBA teaches you to think out of the box!!!

Desh Chal!!

2005-07-21T16:57:00.000+05:30

Long long time ago, when I was a little boy, full of energy and ambition, I had decided to join the Armed Forces (I would have joined the forces, but for physical constraints). Anyway, back then when I was still a “growing boy”, I joined the first school to the Armed Forces, the National Cadet Corps (NCC).

My selection, as always, was a second attempt and then some bit of maska-marofying with the Commanding Officer, who gave a long stare at my pathetically lean frame and then nodded in approval. Two days later I received my uniform and what a high it was to wear the uniform (most of it did not fit me, but who cares!!). So there I was, Cadet Kanishka Agiwal, Kar-Ker-Goa Command, Naval Wing.

Well, most of the aura that surrounded a NCC cadet dissappered right in the first week. Gruelling they were…2 km jog and then 3 hours of marching. After which they promised refreshments. You were given rice with some color and if you are lucky you get a groundnut in that rice. It was called “pulliogere” but it was more like “pull-your-gear”.

Then came the NCC camps. What an experience they were!! The very first time we went for a camp, we were given porcelain mugs on reaching the camp. Wow!! And just as morning started getting brighter, somebody realized he had to answer back to Nature and made the cardinal sin of asking the officer,
“Sir, where is the loo?”
“Cadet, shovel uthake 2 by 2 pit dig karega aur 2 din tak usse use karega”, barked the CO.
“Sir, what about water (to wash)?”
“Apna mug use karega”
I never looked at a porcelain mug, ever, with respect. Used the mug to drink tea and then used it to wash. Gross, gross!!! The pit being shared by 10 cadets and swarming with flies was the least of my concerns.

Of course, some of the things that went on there were worth it all. Like rifle shooting with .22 and .303 SLRs. Shoot well and the CO pats you. Shoot bad and the CO whips you with a thin wire like muzzle cleaner on your bare calves. Or rowing. Two of us would struggle to hold one oar and row and still not cross more than 5 meters, while the CO would single handedly, pick up two oars and row furiously, covering more than half the lake.

My high point in NCC came in when I was selected for the marching contingent for our school (not a mean achievement considering my height) and then the CO realized that I needed a uniform that fitted me better along with a nice scarf. Gave it my best and I think I looked the smartest ever in my life.

My only regret is that I was never able to give the NCC A division exam, since my 10th boards clashed with it. Hence, have nothing to prove that I was a NCC cadet. But, as always, who cares!!
SQUAD!! Aage bhadke khana khayega…khana kha!!

Recipe for College Newsletter

2005-07-13T18:58:00.000+05:30

Ingredients:
One song from XLRI
One mail from Dean
Two minds that think alike
Passion for writing
Time to spare

Instructions:
Listen to “XLRI ki kudiyon” and then ask yourself why you cannot do something so innovative. Come up with a good initiative, like a college newsletter, and then voice it out to your friend. Once the friend is also enthu about it, try to visualize your team who will assist you. Start approaching them and gauge their response after which approach the dean and propose the same. The dean will call for a discussion and once he gives the go ahead, send a mail to the entire batch announcing the same. And then get down to working on the first issue.

Simmer for a week and then serve hot on a Saturday morning.

Serves the entire SPJCM family.

Ab Tak Chappan

2005-07-05T10:08:00.000+05:30

If you have ever stayed in a hostel you will relate to this. My very first time and I have witnessing shocking, pleasing, warm, funny moments every moment. Some of the best gems from Villa 56:

Every day I am greeted by an extremely grotesque sight of one of my roommate’s ass staring right into my face. He is usually brushing his teeth (in the morning), bent into the washbasin, with his boxers much lower than waist level. A few spits and gargles later, he drops them down and jumps into the bathtub. With little concern to the repulsive sight he offers us. Perfect Arab hamam style. There are no closed doors for him, literally.

Another survives only on Red Bull energy drink. If he does not have a can in his hand then he is probably brushing his teeth. One snores so loudly that it feels like a whole battalion of tanks has invaded your place. Some walk around in their undies all the time that it no longer freaks you out. As they say, it makes you comfortably numb.

There are then those skip-a-heartbeat moments when a girl is ringing the bell of your villa non-stop and just when the whole villa is down to answer the call, she asks for some guy who stays in some other villa!! Ouch. Speaking of girls, it is quite funny, surprising, and sometimes weird how word travels if you even speak to a girl. The whole villa knows and you can be sure they will grill you that very night about it.

If you have porn on your comp then you suddenly become the king of the villa, with people going over the top to please you. You dictate terms at least till they are not bored of the stuff you have or somebody else does not have a bigger collection.

And at times you feel you are living in an extended family when the whole villa feels sad for you because you had nothing to eat (since you are a veggie and can’t have non-veg) and then makes sure that they leave a more than a substantial portion of veg food for you the next day. Everything is shared and it is not just with read only permission but with write permission too.

Pustak Tag

2005-06-28T10:00:00.000+05:30

I have no idea what “you have been book tagged” means but since I have been book-tagged by Sangeeta, I will try to do justice to this post.

Number of books owned:
Fiction: 800+ hard copies, 600+ e-books
Non-Fiction: 200+ hard copies, 500+ e-books
Comic: 250+ hard copies, 200+ e-books
Number of books that belong to others/library: 50-75

Total assets – 1250+ hard copies, 1300+ ebooks
Liabilities – 50-75
Owner’s equity - 1200+ hard copies, 1300+ ebooks

Favourite Books:
Kane and Abel by Jeffrey Archer
Five Point Someone by Chetan Bhagat
Asterix collection
Alvin Toffler Series
The Peter Principle
The Future Dilbert

Funny incident involving a book:
Happened when Karthik and some others gifted me a book called “I’m OK, You are OK” (what a crappy book it was) for my birthday, complete with a bill for the book too. Poor guy…forgot to remove the bill from the book.

Useless book ever purchased:
IIT Chemistry – Tata McGrawhill. Never went beyond introduction.

Books I never purchase:
Technical Books because you can always get them on the net and they become obsolete soon.

Prized comic collection:
My Asterix, Tintin, Dilbert and Calvin collection. Spent about 2 years to get it all burnt onto 2 cds.

Most crappy ending:
Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown. Found it to be over hyped.

Current Read:
Snapshots from Hell – Peter Robinson. A book that every MBA should read. Highly recommended.

Most Influential Read:
Kane and Abel. Have read it thrice already and each time it is a heady feeling. Maybe it is because money and power gives me a high and hence I find it so much to myself.

Book I would like to gift:
Dilbert Principle. If you work in a company then you must read this one. Howlarious!!!

People I would like to tag:
Appu
Arjun
Busy-be(!)
Keku
Manish
Deepthi

PS: I am sorry that the frequency (and quality, if any) of my posts is declining but it is more to do with the lack of time than anything else. "Pull up your socks, Kannu Bhai!!!"