A day in the life of LIFE

Well, I know you’d find this as one of the strangest titles that has appeared on a blog post, but this actually fits the bill in more ways than one. Let me explain.

I am just back from the screening of “Ghajini” @ Inox, M.G. Road, Bengaluru. Hence thought of compiling my experience with the movie in this post.

For starters, the movie, in my opinion should have been named Sanjay Singhania instead of Ghajini for the simple reason that this is the name of the protagonist in the movie and revolves around him. Also, just as “Har fillum mein tumhara naam Vijay kyun hota hai?” that was asked of Big B, Singhania is the most common name that suits the ubiquitous businessman of Bollywood flicks. The not so nice name of “Ghajini” that reminds me of the plunderer who made frequent appearances in my class V history text book, happens to be that of the big bad villain in the movie.

Without divulging the plot, let me try and provide the readers with a personal opinion on the movie.

Ok, before that, let me outline the preparations that we had undertaken prior to watching the movie.

This was a family outing that included my octogenarian grandma who is a keen movie watcher and a current affairs expert. A call from my buaji two days ago warned that the movie contained a high degree of violence which might not be suitable for ages 60 and above. My lion hearted grandma dismissed the statutory warning with disdain quoting that she could not be shaken by a mere movie. (Incidentally, she had watched the movie Anniyan (Aparichit in Hindi) and had found the violence digestible)

We however did not want to take a chance and had the necessary precautions in place –ear plugs, eye masks, water and other paraphernalia. I also chose the seats that were close to the emergency exit just in case she wanted to avoid the gory scenes mid way. Our seats in the hall resembled those on a long haul flight from Bombay to Boston – I missed the air hostesses though..

The movie began with the usual scenes of action and *dishum dishum*. Even as the eight pack Aamir(competing with the six pack Shahrukh) thrashed the hooligans and sent them to the cleaners, the entire audience sat staring in awe. A blow to the left and one to the right, and this was enough to have the watchers mesmerized. I was in charge of monitoring my grandma – if at all she experienced any discomfort. To our surprise, all the serious stuff that the actors tried to enact and demonstrate as a testimony to their bravado, attracted laughter from my grandma who found the sequence comic. So much so for the statutory warning!

Once we were all in the groove – the movie began sinking in. The ever charming Asin made her presence felt in her Hindi debut. Her grace, demeanor and acting matched what was expected of the role. The music of the genius – AR Rehman with the lyrics of none other than Prasoon Joshi did justice to the exotic locales featured in the songs. Then of course the “life size acting” by none other than the master performer Aamir completed the movie. Oh! Did I forget Jiah Khan…She’s almost like a cuckoo who pops out of the clock when you least expect her to. Her role is analogous to Parthiv Patel being the 12th man in the 2nd innings of India versus Nigeria.

But I must admit that the first half of the movie is as natural as it can get – the exuberance of youth portrayed by Asin definitely bowled me over and reminded me of the liveliness of Kareena Kapoor in “Jab We Met”. Some of the most subtle emotions are brought out in the best possible manner. The second half is packed with action primarily focusing on the “hero” accomplishing his mission. Tightly gripped but gets just a little prolonged at times. All in all, definitely a movie to be watched - at least the first time. My rating - 4 out of 5. applause!applause!

Many might disagree with me, but, folks, I kinda liked the movie. Very well packaged indeed. Btw, even as I type this post, Times Now reports that a computer game "Ghajini" has also been released, with some part of the background voice given by Aamir himself. Talk about publicity....way to go...

As for our family outing, the ambience of Inox transitioned into the comfy environs of Mc D’s (yup I have frequented it thrice in the past 5 days – they almost thought I was an employee out there…)

Aamir – good job mate! You’ve left Shahrukh far behind…

Till next time - I’ve decided on my next flick; Chandni Chowk to China..Deepika here I come…

After two days of zombied existence in Bengaluru, a routine that has comprised of feasting (pythonic style) and sleeping (like the IBM ad of “ideating”) I’ve finally found some time to put up a post on the latest from Namma Bengaluru.

I actually had two other posts that I was working on, in parallel – one on the Xmas celebration in Shillong (Believe me this was one of the best Christmas celebrations I’ve ever witnessed) and the Flight IT 432 and happenings on board.
I then decided to park the aforementioned posts lest the current one becomes as recent as a feature film aired on Doordarshan.After having survived the 4 degree chill of Shillong, Bangalore definitely feels warm (if not “hot’) at 18.

A lot of similarity exists between Shillong and Bangalore. For starters, both are known for the hip culture, the greenery, the pleasant weather and most importantly the dominant presence of the Rock Culture. ( Yup, bands like Scorpions and MLTR have already visited Shillong, and we recently had “White Lions” performing two weeks ago).

Back home, the atmosphere has been quite different. Ma’s on a mission to make me gain all the weight that I’ve lost owing to “Hostel ka khaana”. She’s running a viral marketing campaign and offering a service titled “7 din mein 7 kg pao warna 7 kg jalebi free” and right now the only enrolment other than myself has been the weak specimen Swami (better recognized as Munnabhai’s room mate in Lagey Raho)

Who ever said eating is an art, was definitely right. The piping hot vada sambar to the spicy paani puri on the gallis of Bengaluru has led to a ten fold increase in Pudin Hara sales at the local Chemist’s.

Catching up with friends has topped my list of priorities. While yesterday the rendezvous was Mc Donald’s at Brigade Road with Wipro Buddies, today’s hospitality was sponsored by PP – a friend since the summer of ’93. We shared the same bench in school. I was invited to his new house where authentic “Mallu” snacks lined the platter – ranging from Bennana Chips to Adapradaman (one of the most delicious forms of "payasam"). The spread reminded of the Onam Sadhya (feast during the Malayali festival of Onam) I had previously been invited to at a colleague’s house in Chennai, a couple of years ago.

Post the gluttony we visited the local chat stall that we frequented as kids with 5 rupees in the pocket (this sum was large enough to buy us a plate of sev puri and one by two nimbu soda). We repeated the order, though inflation had taken its toll and the price of the total order was now 25 rupees. GG and AH gave the mini re-union a miss, citing reasons – that were as logical as HRD minister Arjun Singh’s antics.

The memories that were revived over the next 15 odd minutes were just priceless. The pranks we played to the fights we had, “Puraani jeans aur Guitar” – we had a rerun of 15 years in that short span of time.The swift breeze of the Bangalore night blew past our faces even as we parted ways, of course with the promise of catching up in the near future.

These are some of the strongest bonds that keep you going, even when the going gets tough – As they say,”True friendship is thicker than blood”. Rock on guys!!

Pic: the snacks on offer at PP's house.

Ok. This might not be the best of titles that I've ever thought of, but there's actually nothing more to write about, than what is mentioned in the title.. Or atleast that's what I think as I begin to write.

The week was eventful. Even as India continued to whitewash the Englishmen,the internship placements almost drew to a close at IIM.

And as is the tradition here that no one gets away without treating the rest of the junta for any small event that is branded as "celebratable" (Oxford Dictionary please pardon me for plundering the language); tuesday last was my turn.

The "gang" ambushed me from my room with the pretense of seeking my assistance in helping HR choose accessories for himself and his girl. The ignorant me never even got a hint of what lay ahead, despite being very well aware of the fact that my shopping skills were as evolved as Inzamam's running between the wickets.

It was only when the 6 of us got into a Maruti cab (don't ask how we got in - must have been the same way we got out..) on our way to Bhutia Market to help HR in Mission Impossible 5(not sure if MI 4 has been made so am taking the safe way out in naming it MI 5) that I realized that I was the Channel V Chosen One for the day. And that's a very bad state to be in. Coz the person so designated is privileged to sponsor the gang's expenses ranging from chaat to champagne.

My attempts to get out of the moving taxi went in vain since I was sandwiched between KHM and SK. My cries for help were drowned in the sinister laughter of MKJ.

Even as we reached central Shillong, my first bill - the cab fare set the cash registers ringing (for the cabbie; not for me!). Our next pit stop was Bhutia Market - not sure if Baichung practised here when he was a kid.

Bhutia market in Shillong is one of those places where you get cool local stuff at unbeatable prices - from shoes to jackets, you name it and it's there. Even as JJ helped HR in his quest to pick up the right stuff for his gal, SK helped MKJ in selecting a pull over which MKJ was made to feel good about. KHM was playing the devil's advocate each time JJ picked up something and attracted her wrath for his mistimed comments.

In the melee, I found a cozy chair belonging to a salesman, into which I slouched and started snoring immediately. Limited sleep during the night finds weird ways of getting compensated.

With eyes half open, I could see the gang run from one shop to another, in the quest for the right bargain, almost like the folks on the "World's Amazing Race" do. I was eventually woken up to certify that the goods purchased by the gang were indeed praiseworthy - which I did.

The long shopping (sleeping) experience had made us hungry enough to head straight to Bombay Bites for some yummy pizza, Chinese Bhel (you must try this one for sure), Indian Bread, Burgers etc. etc. etc. (no prizes for guessing who was footing the bill). Eventually the junta stopped since the restaurant ran out of crockery to serve us food in.

The swipe of my card coincided with the not so nice buzz of my cell phone with an sms indicating the debit to my account.

We left for the hostel, not before munching on some crispy cornetto cones and MKJ using Nutties as a substitute for Sweety Supari along the journey.

The trip reminded me of the team treat at Tangerine at one of my previous companies which had played out almost exactly the way that it had, here.

As SK entertained us with his not so melodious vocals, the chilly wintry night had the rest of us running for cover. People say SK stopped only when the neighbors threatened to hand him over to the zoo keepers. The rest they say is "A good night's sleep"....

Wait a minute - Oh No, it's SK again, crooning from his room at 1 in the morning.....

Pictures below -

1)The "Free Tibet" Cause - On the walls of the market



2)The shoe alley in Bhutia Market; Maybe George Bush can find a good pair...

Well, if the name brought to you, images of Akshay Kumar (urf Rajiv Bhatia, for those who dint know), I would quite agree, coz movie titles like Rab, Jodi etc. best suit the action man of Bollywood.

But, this is different. Akki is not the topic of discussion.

After a hectic 2nd term - the last exam of which concluded on friday, the entire batch of IIM Shillong descended on Payal Cinema to get the first day release of "the film that should not be named" - lest Aditya Chopra sue me for negative publicity.

In fact I dare him to do so. For a person who loved DDLJ and the charm that the movie carried, RNBDJ (or what ever you want to call it) comes as a cropper.

It's almost as if Aditya Chopra woke up one fine morning and said "Hey, I have loads of excess cash in my account. Let's make a movie" and thus RNBDJ was made.

A weak story line, force fit situations, unwarranted melodrama, and some attrocious lyrics - things that make a movie out of a nightmare.

The movie portrays the life of a simpleton Surinder who, by using his alter ego of Raj tries to win his wife Thaani over. Period.

In fact if these lyrics especially the one that goes "Dance pe Chance Kar le:" can make a song, then I am definitely going to be the next Javed Akhtar of Bollywood.
But there was one thing that everyone looked forward to in the movie - "The INTERVAL" and then of course, "THE END".

The only respite for the viewers was the acting of Vinay (who plays Bobby Khosla in the movie)and the freshness of Anushka Sharma(whose name in the movie is comprehended only in the last half hour).

I was shocked to see the rating of 4/5 that Rediff gave the movie - simply atrocious - Almost as if the Chopras wrote the review themselves. I would more settle for the realistic rating of Rajiv Masand of IBN who gives it a 2 star not before ripping it apart.

If I were to summarize the movie in one line, it's an "Insult to Intelligence" with the most improbable of outcomes that form the storyline. The Chopras have come up as I said earlier, with some of the best blockbusters ever, but this was a complete Khichri into which they fail to put any kind of masala or tadka whatsoever. The concept was innovative but it could have been much better in execution.

All in all, a completely avoidable film even if you are a die hard Shah Rukh fan.

Well as far as the class was concerned, we had a hearty laugh that was reminiscent of a similar movie experience that "Jhoom Barabar Jhoom" had presented.

The lesser I speak, the better it would be, even as I wait for the release of "Ghajini" to rid my movie taste buds from the awful taste that RNBDJ has left....

Aamir Khan, please don't disappoint us....

Even as the NSG black cat commandos smoke the rats out of the heart of India's financial capital, I pen this post with immeasurable anguish, grief and pain.

For anyone who has been following my blog for over the past 2+ years, the posts here have always been of humor and pun, trying to capture the lighter side of life. But today, at this moment, things are drastically different. This is something that is unprecedented - a situation where Life itself does not foresee its future, let alone the lighter side of it.

Today, a nation and its conscience has been attacked. It's a direct war on its sovereignty. May seem big words - more the ones politicians use - Pray, what else can they do?

Glued to the television in the hostel premises, I but ponder on the audacity of the attackers looking at the magnitude of devastation they have inflicted upon us.

India is a soft state. period. But this is not the time for that - we can do our paralysis of analysis during the post mortem once the ordeal is over.

And this time I am relieved about one thing for sure - the "no negotiations" stand that we have taken. For a person who set aside his class 12 board exams to watch the Kathmandu to Kandhahar drama, I personally feel that this is a stand that ought to have been adopted then as well.

And now - it is the city that symbolizes the classless India in its true light; the city that never sleeps; the city that I grew up as a child in - the bylanes of Andheri where I ran around with my strawberry ice creams, the Chowpaty, the Juhu park - the memories are vivid; and to see THIS city being held to ransom by a bunch of trigger happy terrorists make me feel helpless and angry.

I attend classes on economics and financial management at IIM, where we are taught about sustainability and engage in debates of growth versus development, even as Mumbai burns.

I honestly feel the shallowness creeping in, each time I take a reality check. Something can be sustained only when it exists to be improved upon. It requires a lot of resilience to keep re-building each time you are destroyed. My 90 year old grand mother, a freedom fighter herself, who's lived in Mumbai for 60 years of her life breaks down over the phone even as she speaks to me about the uncertainty my generation is facing.

As Amit Verma puts it, blogging has never felt so insignificant.

And the reality check is this - even as the country fights as Maharashtrians versus the rest of India (outsiders), we see foreigners(the true outsiders) making the most of the situation and rendering us helpless.

I only hope that this turn of events has managed to unite us to the true cause of our nationhood and pray that good sense prevails over the agenda of internal bickering.

India has survived as a civilization for centuries - even when the rest of the world was uncivilized and barbaric - and we will not allow 20 odd gun runners to dent our self esteem.

We will be back on the streets of every city in this country and borrowing from Sambit Bal, Editor of Cric Info, and I quote "I can't wait to see a stadium in Bombay reverberating to the sounds of cricket. I will be there".

We will rise from this immense loss and move ahead - this I believe is the essence of the spirit of Indianism....

P.S. - I am not posting any pictures on purpose for 2 reasons
1) I don't want to advertise the product of terror being exported to my country
2) I sincerely want this dear city to come out of the stigma at the earliest

Some links that I have been inspired reading and I recommend you read as well.

An overpowering bleakness - Sambit of Cricinfo
US Blames squabbling Indian politicians for the attack
Light a candle and take the pledge
Amit Verma's (Ex-TOI)site

Even as HIMYM enters its fourth season (HIMYM, for the uninitiated, refers to “How I Met Your Mother”), the Bakar Club at IIM S (copyright of using the name rests with SK who is also the President of the same) had its Diwali outing last evening.

The torrential rains over the past 72 hours brought with it a long drawn power cut for around 12 hours. This was the opportune moment that the Bakar Club was looking for to venture out into the unexplored alleys of Shillong.

With darkness setting in by 4:45 p.m., our stroll at 5:30 in the evening resembled that of a post dinner walk. The cabbies out here live the moment the fullest. Our man played some good old “blues” well in sync with the weather outside.

Guided by our able leader SK ( whose skills are as dependable as that of Mr. Bean), we reached the heart of the city, Police Bazar, to embark on our mission of “Humey pata nahin hain ki kahan jaana hai”. Options included CCD, Tango, or even as JJ suggested, a heavy supper (some people can only think of food and then complain that the sluggish weather got them overweight! Bah!)

While we explored the bad options that the leader presented before the club members, TP arrived out of thin air ala Superman Ishtyle. (Apparently TP had just then spent 800 bucks on a pull over made in USA – Ullasnagar Sindhi Association, though stitched onto it, was a 1”x1” leather label which said Monte Carlo)

TP had a few currency notes remaining from his shopping spree and hence wanted to spend them effectively. The vote of the day for the place of choice went to Tango owing to its well heated environs that would provide us with respite from the biting cold.

While the setting was perfect for TP and MKJ to get into their groove, others such as me enjoyed some good music that was on offer. Before I forget, I did witness one of the most interesting standoffs between two members of the Bakar club – It was an irresistible force versus an immovable object. With threats and counter threats being exchanged, it formed and interesting watch over onion fries and Dragon vegetable.

Rejuvenated from the environs of Tango, our next stop was a place where we could grab some good dinner – Center Point, our best bet. The low lights and soft music (courtesy: the N73 of yours truly) brought back memories of the Savera Rooftop in Chennai.
MKJ was in full flow by now and there were some pearls of wisdom that he showered the rest of us with. Some filtered excerpts…

Let me let the readers know that you may not be able to find the writing humorous, but then you had to be there to witness the conversation.

Scene 1:

Restaurant Manager (RM :thinking we were tourists) : So Sir, where are you from?
MKJ: from Kolkata
RM: Me too, I was born there but have been 24 years outside of Kolkata.
MKJ( somehow also hears “half my life” as an additional remark. Putting 2 and 2 together he retorts to RM): So you are 48 years old?
RM( Speechless, trying to save his face): That’s kind of you sir, thanks for the compliment but I am just 40 years young.
(MKJ trying to counter question RM is silenced by the President of the Bakar club, SK. MKJ justifies that his prowess at cracking logical reasoning in the CAT exam was still at its highest)

Scene 2:

MKJ: Excuse me, can you please get me a jug of plain water
RM: Sir, JJ has ordered for mineral water
(JJ meanwhile tries helping MKJ with the Bisleri)
MKJ ( breaking into a British Accent which is 180 degrees different from his desi Bengali): No, No, that is exclusively for you, JJ, I wish to have some plain water, “P.L.A.I.N”…
JJ: Speechless
MKJ: Speechless too
RM(trying to flatter the customers) Sir, you have a great sense of humor – are you from Marketing? I ask you this since I have been into marketing for the past 12 years.
MKJ (almost as if "you asked for it now!"): No I am from finance and let me tell you that plain water has dependence on the market meltdown!
RM: He did not visit our table again….(no not even for the bill)

Well, I must say one thing:
The snacks and mocktails at Tango: 1200 rupees
The food at Center Point rooftop: 2200 rupees
Seeing MKJ in full flow: PRICELESS!

P.S.: This blog post is dedicated to the Bakar Club at IIM Shillong. Cheers!

Pic: Hotel Center Point by Night.

It’s 2 in the morning. There is a cacophony of voices around me. While Enrique croons “Bailamos” for the 21st time in the last 20 minutes, footfalls as graceful as those of Shiamak Dawar’s dance troupe (ok I agree I was paid to include this analogy in the post) are observed on the 8x8 dance floor hosting the 4 couples practicing for tomorrow evening’s performance.

Boasting of one of the best male:female ratios among all IIMs, it was pretty easy to find the perfect 8 who would be performing on stage. Btw, SK had a sprain in the back owing to the IPL Kricket Kopda Kup last week and had to opt out of the race. And SK’s loss was NB’s gain.

Ok, I am no pundit to comment on the nuances of various dance forms, but, having watched enough of Bollywood Jalwa, my ability to critique performances is as good as that of Navjot Singh Sidhu’s knowledge of fielding.

A look at my Orkut profile will let you know of my dancing prowess. I’ve trained under Prabhu Deva’s Dhobi and burnt the dance floor thrice so far, but all three have been as adhoc as U235 atoms released during a nuclear fission reaction – the performances were mostly in corporate parties where most people were too high to notice how well I was dancing.

Sorry for the digression – Back in the practice arena, the stage is flavored with the forms of salsa, meringue, jive and the traditional Bollywood hip hop. I am forced to wonder if the medley could be interchanged to include Bailamos with the steps of the Tamil song “Appadi Podu Podu” – a perfect combination indeed.

And what’s my role in this whole thing? I am serving the dual role of a radio jockey (Ok, I kind of over glorified the role of pressing the play and stop buttons on the laptop :() and that of a camera man whose videos are serving the noble cause of providing valuable feedback to the performers.

With the practice all set to continue through the night, I don’t think my role as a local PCO operator is going to end soon.

As a reward for this unenviable role of mine, SG decided to perform a few salsa steps with a lot of reluctance though. My deepest gratitude to the first girl who provided me with the opportunity to dance with her, after 25 years of my existence on this planet.

As Milton put it, “They also serve who only stand and wait”….

All the best to JC,NB,SK,SG,SR,SS,TP and MP for their performance tomorrow.
Till next time, bring on “Dil Haara Re”

P.S. - I was threatened not to publish any snaps of the practice for reasons best known to the performers. ;)

The upbeat mood brought a cheer to his face
He thought these were signs of a healthy grace,
Teams functioned, but groups emoted,
Thus he felt his presence was appreciated.

A champion he was, in whatever he did,
After long, one group, he got himself affiliated with,
But here too, Scorned at and Sidelined was he, in conversations aplenty,
His mind was filled with questions very many.

Were people whom he liked, felt forced by his presence?
Was the lull in the room a signal of abstinence?
Did the rest indeed scorn at his persistence?
Were the very answers he sought, a burden to his existence?

This and more he thought for long,
He confronted his chums with due aplomb,
An intelligent man needs no signals, they said,
And halted his journey in his stead….

Momentary was the guilt of rejection,
Which quite sometime ago was a sign of appreciation,
The time had come for him to know
That everything in this world had to be learnt to let go.

A heavy heart always writes better emotions,
The journey ought to continue in the chosen direction,
A lone warrior he had always been,
And future battles were not yet foreseen.

Life’s shocks are worth the price tag they come with,
Every penny of learning made him stronger bit by bit,
But human emotions will eventually have their say,
For, how long can he tread the solitary way?.....

Who ever said that necessity was the mother of invention, forgot to mention that Hostel Life was a step ahead in being the daddy. A testimony to the above statement is the kind of innovative innovations that corridors of any hostel can breed. IIM is no exception, especially with rich experience flowing from engineering hostels, ideas can only get better with improvisation – Ideas that will make Edison proud of us…(ok, may the last statement is too much of an expectation).

Listed below are three innovations of the week that deserve an entry into the blogosphere.

Innovation 1: White Board @ Rs 90/-

While most will agree that gone are the days of the black board and the dusty chalk, few will subscribe to the view of buying a white board (the ones where markers have ink as smelly as Formalin of the zoology lab) that costs a 1000 Rs at the lower end.
AB and NR came up with this brilliant idea of economizing the cost of the board. All that a white board contains is a sun mica sheet reinforced by a steel frame for support. They just bought a sheet that costs 300 bucks and guess what – it comfortably provides writing space large enough to be cut into 4 pieces.
The rest of the cost goes for the masking tape, and presto! You have a neat and cheap white board on your wall. I don’t need to write what folks generally do with the 910 bucks that formed the reserve….*hic*




P.S. – AG (alias Dexter) had already purchased the 1000 rupee white board and was unavailable for comment at the time of this blog going for publishing. People say he is so frustrated that he wants to get rid of the board that keeps reminding him of his intelligent purchase.

Innovation 2: Surviving the Chill @ Rs 12/-

It’s quite chilly in the winter especially in the hills here and beating the cold seems to be on everyone’s agenda. Incidentally, AG who became wiser after the innovation of his peers came up with this truly bright idea. The incandescent bulb, when used in the hostel room provides both heat and light –almost like “ek teer aur do nishaane” – pardon my examples – most are fed up of them already. AG who swears by the character of Patel ji in the comedy series “Office Office” always believes in the theory of dualism and self assures himself that he is always right. His theory says that “The wattage of the bulb is directly proportional to the warmth generated by it”. Energy conservationists would scorn at this idea, but hey, we are saving on the power hungry room heater – QED [hence proved].




Innovation 3: Entertainment in the corridors- Priceless

This is not actually an innovation. It is a time tested idea that has been improvised. Over loaded with academics, a few of us on the third floor of the hostel building ( including yours truly) converted the previous sitting area into a gully cricket pitch at 1 a.m. yesterday morning. A smiley ball, A sturdy folder and a study chair were all that it took to produce 2 hours of absorbing cricket.
SSB was the top scorer with 60 runs in 4 overs. (Our team lost that game unfortunately). Folks are actually warming up for the IIM Shillong IPL Intra hostel cricket tourney –“Kopdaa Kup" (refer to the post below on the name being chosen) that begins tomorrow. A detailed blog on the same will soon follow.



Innovation 4?

Well after the mind blowing innovations outlined above, thought of sharing an innovative product that was discussed in a seminar on “Sustainable Business Management” two days ago. Fellow batch mates who attended the seminar, already know the answer. Other readers can guess what this product is and send me an email.
Hope you find these innovations useful and keep watching this space for more on the “Kopdaa Kup”.

Signing off at 2 a.m. – Have my match beginning in 7 hours time at 9 in the morning. Off to get some match practice….Cheers!

After Big B, Bret Lee and Sanjay Dutt, it’s now the turn of Farhaan Akhtar to try his hand at singing. The “Nana na naa” from Rock On had great beats but some of the most atrocious lyrics ever. (I know guys out there would kill me for this) but come on, if “meri laundry ka ek bill” can be the lyrics of a super hit song, I too have one lined up, which goes “Kopdaa, Kopdaa dega” (courtesy: the ladies who collect our clothes for laundry each morning) with native instruments to provide the local touch – fellow classmates at IIM can well relate to this song which is all set to become the hostel’s official anthem.

But today’s Marketing class did inject the theme of why something ever becomes a hit with the consumer – The product needs to be different, and have a USP. Farhaan’s husky voice was the USP in this case for an audience fed up with the repetitive crooning of Udit Narayan and Sonu Nigam.

I must admit I liked the theme of Rock On which was a little more than the fusion of Jhankaar Beats and Dil Chahta Hai.

Back in Shillong, where I actually belong, time has flown in a jiffy. The new trimester has brought with it, quite a few interesting subjects, but with a workload that would make even the mule’s daily burden seem feather light. And with my IQ that is as high as that of Ishaan Awasthi in the movie TZP, nothing more needs to be said.

A lecture on Meningitis was delivered to the batch yesterday by a few Health Dept. Representatives. Quite intriguing would be a hypothetical conversation with a student who had no clue as to who they were.

Health Dept Official (HDO): Hi, we will ask you a few survey questions to determine your GK Quotient..Will that be OK?
IIM student (who has had only 2.5 hours of sleep the previous night and caught unawares- Stu): Huh?....*yawn*…OK
HDO: Have you heard about the serious news?
Stu: Oh No! Not again…
HDO: What? Do you know someone who has it?
Stu: Yes, a lot of my friends have been hit, tell me how bad it is?
HDO: In that case you will have to be in quarantine…
Stu: I disagree. I have every right to get back to my previous position
HDO: Yes, for that you will need to have lots of fluids to gain stamina
Stu: Yup, though funds are scarce, spirits are the only way to keep the spirits high
HDO: Great, you agree. Now please sign this declaration form that you have been certified with Meningitis
Stu: Meningitis? Hell no! I was talking of the I Banking companies that crashed and thought you were going to give me further news on the same..
HDO: Speechless.

Markets have been tumbling just as Bangladesh’s batting line up against the Aussie Pace attack.

And this apparently has brought with it the opportunity to take the bull by the horns even as it is being butchered. While the political experts discuss on matters as grave as Mamta Didi and Manmohan, financial concerns range from Mumbai to Manhattan.

Nonetheless, as they say, every cloud has a silver lining and all we can hope for is to spot a cloud in the first place.

As the theories of economics provide some solace that business cycles will soon peak to the peaks of yesterday, all that people can do in the mean time is to Rock On, with Rock On, on the Rocks…:)

Cheers!

Image: A still from the movie...

Well, this is the question that most people have been asking me both @ my blog and out of it, and off late, this has been the question I've been asking myself as well.

This has been the longest that I've stayed away from the blogsphere and it's good to be back. The Big Bad world of B School coupled with an HP laptop as young as AK Hangal, had made matters worse over the last three months.

Now, in the cozy confines of my adda at Bengaluru, here I am, typing away to glory after a heavy dinner of pav bhaji, sev puri and dessert. I know it's yummacious...

And after the three mistakes of my life, (not mine, they were Chetan's) - I just have three words for the book - routine, unoriginal and disappointing.

I managed to sneak away to Bangalore from the idyllic hills of Shillong after a hectic trimester. And I did not inform folks back home of my arrival. The scene upon my arrival was no less than that at the sets of the reality show "Mera Beta wapas aa gaya!" even as Ma let oodles of Ganga Jamuna flood the neighborhood- O.K. I made the last one up. Ma could care less, for I've not picked up her calls from the time I went to B School and this has led to much speculation about my activities.

With 24 hours not being enough to meet the regimen of B School and the odd hours of 3:30 am bed time has left all of us seasoned to combat any jet lag of its kind. We have had fun nonetheless. Hostels are great places to be in. Anyone who has not been in a hostel is missing something in life. While the mess food does make you miss the luxury of a 5 course meal at a 5 star hotel ( which incidentally was a "given" at the workplace with a customer), the cappuchino at the midnight canteen makes up for it.

Back home and things are treasured. The attention is unparalleled. His lordship gets to choose the menu for the day. Contrast this with Aloo Paratha, half dropping out of my mouth with me rushing to class set to begin in 2 minutez. It's great to be back home. Riding my Pulsar across the winding streets of Bengaluru has never been as gratifying.

With 4 days of vacation remaining, I have managed to sample every bit of cuisine which shall be unavailable to me for the next 6 months at least. Meanwhile, I also get time to blog - The most favorite of my past times at the work place, but so hard to pursue nowadays. But I promise to post atleast once a week hence forth since there's so much for me to write about. Shillong and beyond. Hope I keep up to my promise.

Till then, I hear mum call out, "Some hot kheer at 11:30 in the night?" I am game..See ya soon...

The 4th day of July is usually famous owing to it being celebrated as the independence day of the USA. While the stars and stripes were fluttering in the US, the stage was set elsewhere back home in India in the Scotland of the East (better known as Shillong – the capital of the state of Meghalaya) for a pioneering purpose.
The inauguration of the first batch of the Indian Institute of Management was scheduled at the North Eastern Council Secretariat today. For the uninitiated, the 7th and the latest IIM has started operations in the hill city much against the expectations of many skeptics across the country.

The inauguration had Dr. Don Kupar Roy - the Hon. CM of Meghalaya as the Chief Guest, Sri T K Nayar (IAS) – The Principal Secretary to the Prime Minister, who presided over the function, and Sri Arjun Malhotra – The Co-founder of HCL and the current Chairman of Headstrong Inc. as the guest of honor.

The ambience of the well lit auditorium was further enhanced by the presence of other eminent dignitaries including the Director of IIM Shillong Sri Ashoke Dutta and the Chairman of the Board of Governers of IIM Shillong, Sri R N Dutta who incidentally is the Ex-Chairman of Price Waterhouse Coopers. The representation from the media included television channels such as NDTV, Doordarshan and several regional channels of the North East.

The program included talks from the various speakers who shared their vision on how the IIM would help benefit the North Eastern region by virtue of its presence as a center of excellence thus enabling the local population as well by way of leveraging the best practices and latest teaching pedagogy made available at the IIM.
The talk by Mr. Arjun Malhotra was indeed inspirational. While quoting Asia’s first Nobel laureate Sri Rabindranath Tagore, Mr. Malhotra emphasized that times have indeed changed and that the world now looks at India as an Intellectual and economic super power -the IITs and the IIMs would be pivotal in sustaining this momentum.
Prof. Ashoke Dutta was categorical in mentioning that despite several doubts and questions raised from different quarters, the IIM was set up in a record time of 6 months and emphasized that the State Government and the Board of Governors would do all in their capacity to model IIM Shillong as one of the best in the country. As quoted previously in the media, IIM Shillong will be equipped with the best IT infrastructure thus truly making it the first and the best tech savvy IIM of the 21st century.

It may be recalled that IIM Shillong was the first IIM to accept online applications with no additional fee for the same. IIM Shillong will also be the first IIM to hire foreign faculty especially from the USA in order to bring in the best in class global practices and business know how at the door step of its students.

With a battery of highly competent and distinguished faculty, idyllic surroundings amidst the un plundered nature and a batch of pioneering students with the zest to perform, the stage is all set to give the other IIMs and the rest of the B schools in the country, a run for their money.

But, for the moment, the journey has just begun…

Pic above: the Inaguration ceremony
Pic below: IIM Shillong Logo

With the increasing reach of the internet by the day, logs of a lot of people have popped up all over the web, and these web logs are called “blogs”, was the definition I read on Sir Google (yes, I have decided to honor Google with knighthood for its immense contribution to society) about 2 years ago.

Something interesting! I thought to myself, even as I was looking for a hassle free way of maintaining my pieces of writing, experiences etc. And what better than have a group of friends read, review and critique your work, without requiring the all passive e mail exchange.

The past two years have been a great eye opener for me and the blog world never stops to amaze me with the plethora of opportunities that it presents.

Incidentally, I received a group e mail at the work place that normally most colleagues redirect to the “junk” folder even without reading the same. The topic of the post caught my attention – “B.L.O.G” workshop, it read. I’ve always found that the vastness of the internet is infinite (think about it – it’s true) and thought I’d pick up a few tips for myself.

We assembled at quarter to 3 in a seminar hall that resembled that of “Shaakal” in one of the “I-saw-it-when-I-was-a-kid” movies, dimly lit except for the few Charlie’s angels (read the ladies from HR) who lined the periphery.

Then all of a sudden, we had Amit Verma walking in to deliver a talk on the Blogger’s workshop. Nope! I suddenly realized that I had dozed off and hence hallucinated that it was Amit Verma speaking to me. I had a rude shock when I found our very own JM to whom I could put a face after a long time. ( He's not that bad! :))

A jolly good fellow! -is what Bugs Bhargava (the English teacher in Taare Zameen Par) would have commented had he seen JM. The frail JM sporting his employee ID on a steel necklace around his neck (rather than the customary colored tags) made his way to the dais, as we prepared ourselves for DBPP (Death by Powerpoint).

The light hearted dude that he is, JM used Calvin and Hobbes across the entire presentation, thus giving all we intellectually challenged IT junta, a reason to smile. The smart comments from Calvin, who found expression through JM, the inquisitive audience and the dungeoned conference room, presented a perfect setting for discussion over a cup of steaming coffee.

Gyan flowed like alcohol as it did in the campaign phase of the Karnataka elections, and the audience was soon found grappling with terminologies like – twitter, micro blogging, tag, crawler, css , blogspot and the like.

120 minutes of back to back gyan soon gave way to some interesting anecdotes that both the participants and the speaker had to share, and even as the hard talk continued, I had to excuse myself to attend the all important French language class that was to begin in a while.

All in all a great session for those who wanted to get into blogging, and it also presented lots of information even for the veterans at the art.

A detailed slide share of the presentation can be had at JM’s site.

Whatever said and done, the theme that is revolutionizing the world of “web 2.0” is “Yeh hai Blogistan, Meri Jaan”…..

Well, after months of political musical chairs that unfolded both within the Vidhana Soudha and outside of it, the electorate of Karnataka has finally chosen the BJP to lead them for the next 5 years.

The reality show that unfolded on Indian television was sensational. With cartels and counter cartels plotting strategies of their own, they were giving the MTV Roadies a run for their money.

Alliances of convenience ruled the roost and each passing day provided Ekta Kapoor with fresh ideas for her new soap. The feigned estrangement between Deve Gowda and his son was one of the best pieces of eye wash I’ve ever seen. The sting operations by the sensationalizing media only added some tadka to the dal fry.

The scene in the BJP camp was not so colorful when their blissful marriage of 7 days with the JD(S) ended in a bitter divorce, thus inviting Madamme President to rule the IT state.

On the flip side, not having an elected assembly saved the state exchequer the salary and maintenance expenses on the illustrious legislators.

But the sympathy wave and the anti incumbency did help the cause of the BJP in thwarting the others in the elections.

Being three short of absolute majority, and with speculations about JD and Congress tie up, the scene resembled a rain affected IPL match involving the Duckworth Louis rule. The drama was so close that it would have had even Ravi Shastri forecasting a "bowl out" to decide on the final winner.

With good sense taking the better of opportunism, this situation was averted. With the BJP managing to woo 5 (not just the magical number of 3 required) MLAs, the banks in the city had some major deposits to accept and were kept busy.

All’s well, that ends well is what the BJP would be saying to themselves, even as they prepare themselves to lead the state independently.

Current mood in the BJP camp : Yeddi, Steady, Go

Title of the post is courtesy: rediff - another detailed post on the Karnataka politics can be had here

Image below: A Jubiliant CM to be...

It’s been some time since I’ve blogged, and there’s good reason behind that .With my work load reaching an all time high akin to the stock market in recent times,I had little time to focus.

The past two months or so had also been well invested in tackling the next sequel of Mission Impossible, and at the end of it all, the result has been pleasant.

After years of toil and effort that were targeted to achieve a single goal,I finally find myself knocking at the doorstep of my milestone – the Indian Institute of Management.

India, a land of superfluous population has a billion people aspiring for a common pool of resources, that are as few in number as the rain drops in the Sahara Desert. And one of these resources is the coveted IIM that appeals to the aspirations of many,like you and me.

My aunt made a good statement the other day. She said, “People are best at telling others what to do, what they themselves actually are poor at”. It did make me think. The BCCI selectors, the politicians of India, bosses in general - the list is endless.

Off late, even as “kya aap paanchvi paas se tez hai” had me stumped on many questions, I began to wonder if my IQ had indeed been erased like Nirupa Roy’s eyesight in the movie “Amar, Akbar, Anthony”. But some solace arrived with the news that the watchman at the IIM gate finally decided to let me in, having found me waiting for long.

I actually have mixed feelings right now. I am not jumping around like a Kangaroo high on Foster beer, but yes, it feels good, that the tide has finally turned in my favor - better late than never. I also realize that the night outs with friends, the movies at Satyam, Center Stage and Forum that I missed out on, did not go in vain.

One thing I’ve discovered is that the world is not run by the IITians and the IIMites. But yes, it is rare to find an IITian or an IIMite who had not made the world run. And I feel blessed to be bestowed with the opportunity to have been the 750 odd people (50% of the 1500 odd seats across 7 IIMs belonging to the General category) to have made it to the finish line, out of the applicant pool of over 2.5 lakh.

But as they say, even if you end up victorious in a rat race, you still end up being a rat. What I am trying to do is to be a little different among rats akin to “Pinky and the brain” who decide new ways on taking over the world, every night.

This is a new beginning and this is just the beginning. And I am up to the challenge. My confidence is high and my optimism is at its peak. The fragrance of success smells sweet.

But as Asha Bhosle put it very nicely after one of her performances, “Shohorat ki Bulandi bhi Ek pal ka tamasha hai, jis dal par baithe ho, who kabhi bhi toot sakta hai” – The Pinnacle of success is just a passing moment, for, the branch you are sitting on, can break any time.

So, I am pretty much the same guy - who loves humor, who enjoys long rides on his bike and some good music after a long day at work and one who believes that life should never be lived seriously, for it would never be worth living in that case. And I will continue being so.

I will be moving to IIM Shillong, and yes it’s official now. I will get to explore one of the most blessed regions of the Indian Sub continent, the North East. The next two years in the lap of Nature are going to be breathtakingly adventurous. And at the end of the 2 year “Discovery of India” I will also end up with a degree in Management from the IIM, and so, the add-on of the vacation is quite appealing.

I promise to post more on my experiences in the "Scotland of the East", once I get there.

Till then, I find inspiration in the words of Robert Bruce who said "Try, Try till you succeed" and that of Robert Frost who said, “I have miles to go before I sleep”.....

In my quest to woo the damsels of South India, I have embarked on a mission to master all the four languages of the Deccan Plateau. Having studied Kannada as part of my school curriculum, my job becomes simpler in assimilating the three other ones. No, actually, there is an interesting twist here – I can read Telugu (since the script pretty much resembles that of Kannada) and can converse in Tamil (thanks to my two year stint at Chennai). Well that makes me 50% literate in these two languages. But as they say, half knowledge is dangerous, I have thus begun serious learning and hope to come out with a book titled “Master the Deccan in 15 days”, thus giving the Rapidex courses a run for their money.

And what better way to learn them than by watching movies in the regional languages? I am pretty optimistic about this approach, but the last time around when I watched a couple of Tamil movies and spoke in the language, my colleagues almost thought I was speaking in French (Je m’excuse messieurs).

Well, thanks to my cousin SPNPR (yup, those are indeed lengthy initials) who has loaned me a couple of Telugu movies, I have begun Mission Impossible 3 with great élan. The movie was titled “Happy Days” and I am using this opportunity to blog on the same.

Happy Days – is all about a gang of friends who join an Engineering College from different parts of the state and their journey across the four years of the course. It pretty much starts with the traditional opening that each of us would have experienced – yes, Ragging. While shown in positive light, it goes to depict the transformation that moderate ragging can bring about in a student’s personality. This is followed by the “co-incidental” ice breakers that bring together, the prime actors of the movie (and their counter parts of course). There are scenes inspired from Lagaan, Mai Hoon Na, and RDB but they are woven quite well so that the movie flows naturally. The hot headed professors, the hostel fights, first crushes, instances of friendship, exam fever - all form integral components of the movie.

Some very good music with great cinematography contributes the required jazz to the movie. The movie ends on a positive note (with the Professor raising a toast to the students) with the message that though the “Happy Days” of 4 years have come to end, they just mark the beginning of the professional days of the future. A favorite line of mine from the movie is the one where the actor comments that he is as clueless at the end of four years as he was when he began his journey four years ago. Though the actors are not the branded ones that you normally see on the silver screen, they have done quite a good job in the acting department.

The director deserves a compliment for having successfully transported the viewers back in time - The time when lunch on the stone benches was more filling than the present a la carte menu in our air conditioned offices, when the canteen samosa was tastier than the buffet at Le Meridien, when the hard seats of the college bus were more comfortable than the bucket seats of the car we now own, when the “by 2 cutting chai” was more satisfying than the most exotic fruit punch, , when winning a debate competition was more gratifying than a successful sales pitch to the customer, when 5:30 p.m meant the first show at the cinema hall with friends and not long drawn conference calls, when life meant freedom in the truest sense of the word!

Precious are those moments and I have quite a few to treasure when I look back at the four years that made me a man! ( no pun intended :))Happy days, they were, indeed…..

After quite a few attempts aimed at getting the gang in place, 5 of us colleagues finally set out on yet another adventure this weekend to the famed tourist destination of “Yaana” that is nestled in the hills that surround Sirsi, about 100 kms from the scenic town of Shimoga.

Friday last had been extremely hectic, and the very thought of driving down in a self chauffeured car for a round trip of 1000 kms almost made me shudder as to how we would complete the ordeal.

But owing to our expert driver SH who has an alias of Michael Shoemaker and prides himself on giving the original a run for his money, we were quite confident of getting back in one piece.

The rendezvous for our departure was Navrang Cinema in Rajajinagar, and the time set to 10 p.m. IST (Indian Stretchable Time). With MB, VH and CP joining us from across the city, we finally departed 30 minutes later. Incidentally, as a tribute to a successful departure, the heavens opened up and showered refreshing H2O drops that gave us constant company through the night.

Even as SH warned us from sleeping, the monotonous sound of the car wipers soon gave way to 12 hours of Non stop music, similar to the punch line of the radio station – fever 104. VH’s cd that contained multi lingual chart busters from KK to Bryan Adams kept us, and more importantly the driver, awake, thorugh the course of the journey.

23:30 hrs: Shell Gas station on Tumkur Road

The drops of petrol gurgled as they entered the metal fuel tank, resonating in a way, with the pattering of the rain drops around us. As the car got its share of fuel, we topped up our edible reserves with Haldiram’s, Orbit, Lay’s, and other paraphernalia that would form our fuel along the way.

3:30 hrs Saturday Morning: Suspended Animation
Amidst patches of long talks, chatter, songs and meditation (as per SH, there is no such word as sleep), we realized that our very own Shoemaker needed a break as well. A 30 minute suspended animation for all of us, that had intermittent snores from the junta, filled the otherwise quiet atmosphere.

5:30 hrs: The lady at the wheel

CP took to the wheel to give SH a reprieve and was graciously allowed to drive as a tribute to the spirit of Women’s Day, that was celebrated a week ago. CP was confident of her driving but MB who by the way is entering a new phase in his life soon, was caught gaping in awe each time the car negotiated a hair pin bend.

8:00 hrs: Pit stop at Sirsi

We arrived at the first pit stop of Sirsi where we checked into our Hotel. A quick shower and a quicker breakfast had us hit the road by 10:00 hrs on a bright Saturday morning, towards our first sightseeing point of Sahasralinga- 15 kms from Sirsi.

The beauty of this spot captivated us beyond description. Secluded from the mob of tourists, this place had 1000 shivlings that were carved in stone and scattered across the river. It is said that these shivlings belong to the period of the Chalukyas that once reigned supreme as the royal dynasty of South India.

12:00 hrs : Divine Blessing - Ganesh Pal

The beauty about Ganesh Pal is that there is a Swayambhu idol of Lord Ganesh that is present in a make shift temple - accessible after crossing a river with knee deep waters. The road leading to this place might resemble the Martian crater laden surface, but believe me, the overall experience was indeed invigorating.

14:00 hrs: Halli Mane Oota

Nope. This is not the famed hotel chain that is spread across Bangalore. This was actually the actual translation of “village home”. We stopped by one of the villages that had a typical house that also served food as an additional source of income. The rock bottom prices, the goodness of the food and the freshness of spring water, all these were straight out of a fairy tale, especially for Bangaloreans such as us who are used to breathing Carbon di oxide everyday.

16:00 hrs: Think Big - 28 rooms and one common hallway

Our next stop was almost a visit to Filmistan Studio. We visited the house where a kannada movie was filmed. To say that this house was “mammoth” is an understatement. With 28 rooms in all and a common hallway, it has about 150 people living under one roof. Incidentally, these people were distant relatives of VH who himself had not visited the place in 15 years. The Sanskrit shloka recital from one of the kids who was barely 5 years old, left us spell bound. It was then that we were told that there is a dedicated school for Sanskrit studies that is present in the vicinity of the village. We rewound the clocks of time and plunged into the rubber wheel race with the kids, racing down to the finish line. SH cheated as usual and won the race, in an attempt to reinforce the fact that he was a good driver, both with the engine and without one. At the end of it all, the glee in the children’s eyes as we distributed some goodies, chocolates and biscuits was gratifying.

17:00 hrs: Maagod Falls - Waterfalls in the Mountains


An hour’s drive through the winding ghat section brought us face to face with one of nature’s finest creations. Maagod falls thundered down the mountains with an unsaid message of stamping their authority and grandeur. After our professional photographer MB made us pose in a variety of moves, that almost resembled the diversity in the stone sculptures of belur, we were covered by a blanket of mist that embraced us and the huge oak trees around us, with open arms. As the chill kicked in, we reluctantly made our way back to the car. The downpour that followed ensured that SH had to implement some high quality driving skills, since the 4 wheeler almost turned into a roller coaster – swaying from one side to the other along the slushy road.


20:00 hrs : Some chat, some food and a good night’s sleep

As we tottered into our hotel rooms after a hectic but memorable day’s sight seeing, we played some good music in the background even as the chat ranged from mythology to Indian politics and of course the ubiquitous past time of Antyakshari.

Even as we cuddled up into our beds, the promise of exciting adventure the following day left us waiting expectantly for the same.

9:00 hrs : Sunday : The final frontier - Yaana

Thanks to SH, who sleeps as much as the legendary Kumbhakaran, our departure was delayed by an hour. Post this, we set off to the caves of Yaana which was about 2 hours from Sirsi. We cut short the trek due to lack of time and still managed a trek of 5 kilometers. The endless beauty was evident in the countless streams and rivulets that lined the entire pathway leading to the caves. As we reached the summit, we were witness to gigantic monolith caves which stood almost a hundred feet tall, at the heart of which was present a temple dedicated to Lord Shiva. A barefoot pradakshina in some tough terrain was concluded by gobbling packed lunch that we had carried from Sirsi. This was followed by the much accustomed ritual of posing for the Kingfisher calendar. The models rewarded themselves with a swig of cool drink after the painstaking photo shoot.

Actually, (the infectious word "actually" was used a zillion times on the trip thanks to SH) I think it was the faulty temperature meter in SH’s car that induced us into believing that Global Warming had reached its pinnacle.

After one final look at Nature’s rich creation, we reluctantly headed back to our automobile.

15:30 hrs: Off to VH’s native village

What could be more satisfying than having wild bananas and hot kashaya (health drink) for a quick evening snack? That’s precisely what the doctor ordered when we reached VH’s native village and lazed around in the areca nut and banana plantations, even as we chewed the freshly plucked beetel leaves during our royal walk. SH set a world record for devouring the maximum number of bananas in one shot.

After some more poses (which were clichéd, by now), we drove out through the village road leading to the highway, silently convincing ourselves that the city life that we led was better than what we had just witnessed. All of us knew deep down our hearts that it was not true.

3:00 hrs Monday Morning: High on the Highway

Don’t be mistaken. We were high alright! But not due to alcohol. It was thanks to two sleepless nights and SH’s insistence that we dance alongside the highway at that unearthly hour. According to him it was supposed to be the valedictory dance that the tribals from Andaman perform, when they complete any successful venture.

With CP initially refusing to come out of the car, what eventually did bring her out were the high decibel levels emanating from the inside of the car.

6:00 hrs: Namma Bengalooru

With CP taking to the wheel again, we managed to reach Bengalooru at 6:00 hrs. Even as the droopy eyed zombies entered my house, we were welcomed by Ma’s piping hot breakfast of kesari bhat and shavige bhat.

A quick freshening up exercise and all of us were off on our paths and a surreal world of 2 days gave way to the hard hitting reality of everyday life.

But the more we sank into the experience we had just had, the more we realized that “life is that which happens to us, when we are busy doing other things”….Life’s calling..Where are you?...

A few of the 400 odd pictures are below. - In order - The Gang, Sahasralinga, Maagod Falls, Yaana, with the Kids..

Even as I began pondering on what I should be doing in life other than travel 75 kilometers a day for my “rosy roti”, my brain came up with a brilliant suggestion that I needed to pick up a foreign language in order to survive the anticipatory pink slip scenario.

While a couple of calls to the alliance francaise de Banglore, did help me obtain some basic information on the class schedule (hope you have realized by now that French was been the lucky language bestowed with the honor of being learnt, by yours truly), I was a little apprehensive on how I would accommodate 6 hours of study over weekends in addition to my rituals of sleeping, hogging, traveling and doing nothing, which actually takes a lot of time.

It was at this juncture that the training department at my organization came up with just what the doctor ordered and sent out a mailer on French classes to be conducted on campus by an instructor from the alliance francaise. My eyes lit up and a couple of imploring mails to my manager helped me enroll.

Monday last, was the first session and the class of 25 – comprising of managers, programmers and consultants like me waited with bated breath to take on the marathon of learning a new means of expression via the exotic language of le français.

The instructor, walked in and addressed us as was the customary, with a pleasant “Bonjour”, which by the universal law of speech had to correspond to “ hello”. What followed were some quick fire statements in the new language that had us look up in awe just as Stuart Broad did when Yuvraj clobbered him for six consecutive sixers at the 20-20 game at Kingsmead.

Flirting with words like Vous, votre, sa va, bon voyage and the like that filled the otherwise silent environment, we were left confused all the same at the end of the round 1 which lasted for about 40 minutes.

The tea break was followed by Round 2 with Ms. UB trying to teach a bunch of “foreign” students, the language of Monsieur Napoleon Bonaparte ala the famed television series - Mind Your Language.

Like children in 2nd grade, we went about reciting le alphabete’ in chorus and anyone who saw us from outside would have reckoned, we were the likes of the dyslexic Ishaan Awasthi from Taare Zameen Par, who were late bloomers in life.

From the time the first class ended, I’ve been showing off my French skills to Ma, Dad, colleagues, the milkman, the maid and anyone I’ve found on the street.

The dialogue exchange has been something like this:

Auto driver: Ellige Saar?
Me: Vous Vous appele comment?

Auto driver : Oh ! Malayali aano ? Evede pova saar ?
Me : Vous paarle quelles lang ?

Auto driver : No paarle saar, I like only Britannia
Me : Quelles votre nationalite' ?

Auto driver : Banni saar, NIMHANS ge free aage drop maadtini
Me: Sigh!

I’ve decided to get the authentic feel of learning French by trying to emulate them as closely as I can. This has included a long term plan of growing French Beard, of ordering only French Fries at Mc Donald’s, sampling the best of French wine and, well I’ll stop at that.

My colleagues have begun responding to me in Anglisized French, rather Fransisized English and believe me, that has driven me to forget my desi Angreji as well.

But I am not going to allow this to dampen my spirits. Mistakes do happen and amateurs ought to be encouraged. As they say, “To Err is French, to forgive is the Wine!” hic! Till then, au revoir and Carla Bruni, here I come !

Pic above : Eiffel Tower.

Pic below: well, that's me in class!

This latest composition of mine, has been a fallout of the wonderful musical treat that I was part of on Republic Day, with the Swedish band called Mynta where Shankar Mahadevan was on the vocals.

An evening with Mynta

Even as my mind was to be filled with thoughts,
Ponder, I did on the entire lot,
Myriad they were as they could get,
So much that they turned into my brows’ sweat

Worry, as people termed it, was eating into me,
I needed a break from the routine scene
And the week had not been very kind as yet,
How I wished for some rejuvenation and rest

The Saturday last, brought with it, a pleasant gift
The notes of melody filled the void and rift
The gift was of divine music of life,
Which began to rid me of mental strife

The open sky and the breath of fresh air
The band called Mynta and their music’s flair
Coupled with the enigma of Shankar’s voice:
Brought back memories of past poise

The freshness of the genre was indeed a feast,
The fusion it was, of the west and east
The jovial jazz and the mystic carnatic
Silenced even the toughest critic

As positive vibes filled my chest,
Admired, I did at the Creator’s best
And as I slipped into the sleep of musical serenity
I woke up with the peace to last till eternity....




Image - Shankar with a filler in the midst of the program performing the famed "Suno Gaur se duniya walo.."