A day in the life of LIFE

Suspended Animation

2010-03-19T21:50:00.000+05:30

In the world where the acts are played, by actors galore ,
Acts which soon become parts of folklore;
The vivid dynamism is there for everyone to see,
Actions of the Actors provide dividends of glee..

As the Act unfolds, are brought forth emotions, myriad,
The synchronous fallout reminds me of the flawless ballad;
From joy to sorrow; From today to the morrow;
Experiences and adaptations, from life, they borrow..

The stage seems glorious with the pomp of lavishness;
Even in penury is seen the aspect of clinical finesse,
Ah, but is it not true that the entire carnival is orchestrated?
I still wait to see if the symphony, in real life stands tested..

Transience is the only common thread I find worth recall,
Relativity of time is what makes one take a call;
In reality, the semblance of perfection prompts us to reject,
But pray, how do we know what’s perfect to judge what’s perfect?

Even as the actors get busy in their transitions;
What was played out was indeed a planned representation ,
I am compelled to think of the dynamism of real life manifestations;
A Pause, I take to evaluate this Suspended Animation….

My IIM ONE journey - 2 years in 2 pages!

2010-03-02T12:41:00.006+05:30

The journey to and through IIM Shillong has been one hell of a roller coaster for me. Having attempted the CAT 5 times with the hope of getting into an IIM, Shillong was truly THE destination that I was destined to be in.

Well, I knew that the going would be tough mainly because we were orphans and had no senior batch to guide us. The infrastructure, the location, and having no precedence are great turn offs for anyone selecting an institute.
But I was looking at 2 years at IIM S more as an investment from. a point of view of leveraging the brand name, which I was sure would gain its equity 10 years thence. We all know that in the world of business, you are either from an IIM or from a non-IIM.. period

“What’s in a name?” said Shakespeare -The catch however was that all we had was a name. We were the assets who had to garner value over our time of stay. I still remember the discussions on pagalguy meant users like acdindian(myself), diablorulz(tripurari), sarvshwet(sarvesh) and mirchikris(kannan) trying to make sure brand IIM S got maximum publicity in the online space. The google docs had inputs pouring in – what we wanted to have @ IIM S, how should we differentiate ourselves and more.
Some of those who had confirmed admits did choose other B schools over IIM S, and I would not be judgmental here – what we’ve achieved is there for everyone to see.

According to me , IIM S has made a solid start as far its reputation goes, over the two years, and the highlight has to be Hari and Neeraj winning at Confluence, IIM Ahmedabad. Nothing gets bigger than beating the mother of all B schools at their own home turf!

From a personal standpoint, Cult Icon at IIM Indore was a nice “boni” to the winning ways of IIM S but more than that I am glad I could contribute by winning Ashwamedha – the best leader among the top 30 B schools of India at IIM Indore, and I look at it more as proving a point to the entire IIM system that kept me waiting at the gates for 5 long years. I never felt this close ever before, in taking pride of being part of the “top brand” – Brand IIM Shillong. Looking at the larger picture, it was more a fitting reply to the critics who were trying to label us as a mockery in the name of an IIM!

Quite ironical, that the “supposed to be mocked at IIM” produced the likes of Gore and Mayank who went to Sydney and New York for presenting papers in conferences of international repute; and in parallel the rest of the institute created differentiators by organizing the country’s first ever inter b school and corporate golf tournament under the aegis of Ram and team, not to forget the PINE initiative by Ankit and team too. Kantha pulled off a cameo in the midst of all this as well.

Even as Niveshak and Markathon (I just loved the healthy competition between Parida and Asit as to whose magazine would come up with a better edition the subsequent month) made it to the list of the most talked about B school magazines, IIM Shillong made its presence felt at various summits (NASSCOM, AIMA and more) and got talked about for its unique attributes - sustainability, sports management and more, from Kiran Karnik to Salman Khursheed and from Rahul Bajaj to Manishankar Aiyar.

One thing that I would mention is that, the wins and collective efforts of the batch of 2010 (and 11) have made it loud and clear to the rest of the fraternity – “We have arrived!, and so, in style”
I would be lying if I were to say that there were no lows in the journey over the two years. We followed all the stages of group dynamics as perfectly as the OB text would have it – form, storm, norm and perform.

Right from the time of the IIM B alum giving us gyan on the IIM way of life to the first difference of opinion we had in week#2 – bitter memories I agree, but we’ve come a long way since then and looking back, I’ve always believed that small skirmishes are essential in reinforcing the bonds of friendship.
Also, realizing that we were not being supported by administration in many initiatives, is something that could have been worked upon.

However, there will always be projects that could have been done better and decisions that could have been better made – the point is that, given the constraints, I think we have pulled off nothing less than a miracle – none of the other IIMs had probably achieved as much in their first 2 years of existence.

My takeaway from IIM Shillong has been in terms of some of the most wonderful people with whom I’ve forged bonds for life. The 3 a.m. case studies, the chronicles of “gurubhai and guddu”, the adrenalin rush during the Kopda Cup, the sustainability trek, the idyllic campus, the snow white night, , dedicating my victory to both batches of IIM S on the podium of IIM I, the earthquake escapades, the celebration with beer in the Ashwamedha crystal trophy, the diwali nights, the GPL ceremonies, the Death by PPTs, the Agnimedha experience (trial by fire :)), the beautiful nights and the starry skies in whose company I dreamt on till dawn broke, the wonderful people of Meghalaya and their love for life and music…… the memories are endless….and the biggest takeaway is that “these have undoubtedly been the best days of my life”; I may or may not have become a better manager, but I’ve definitely become a better “myself” @ IIM Shillong

A famous quote read thus : “History is always and only written by the winners!”
We have created history in our existence as the Pioneer batch of 2010 that “built” IIM S in the truest sense of the word. We prayed, we fought, we cried together, but never let the world get the better of us We have won many a battle, silenced many a critic, showed to the world that we cannot just match, but go on and better the standards of brand IIM – and all this was possible because adversity got us together and we were destiny’s children; today as we pass on the legacy to our future generations there’s just one line I’d like to say to them.. “ Whenever someone undermines your ability, it’s time to show them what you’ve got without stooping to the level of your opponent”..It is then that success will truly be the sweetest of tastes you’d have ever experienced…

“Go kiss the world”… The Batch of 2010 shall always be there for you…It’s been great to have lived the IIM ONE (IIM Of North East) experience and we shall soon be IIM ONE in every way that it is meant to be! "ONE love is all we need"..

Jai Mata Di.

Khublei!

-Asmyaham : Ashutosh Dikshit
IIM Shillong, Class of 2010

"You don't have to be everywhere..."

2010-02-09T13:20:00.005+05:30

Into the surround I stand and stare,
Looking at everything's that's in my eyes'glare;
I begin to assess my skills and flair,
But then you do tell me dear that: "You dont have to be everywhere"

In the list of acquaintances I try to obtain membership,
Among the peals of recognized laughter I find my kinship;
At the gates of this castle I wait for warmth and care,
But then you do tell me dear that: "You dont have to be everywhere"

Staring into the starry night, relishing their myriad variety,
I recount my life's experiences from penury to luxury
But your presence is what colors the black sky, so bare
But then you do tell me dear that: "You dont have to be everywhere"

The present is transient and this makes me yelp!
Maybe that's the reason I want all your time for myself:
And when it's divided, it brings in the audacity in me, to dare
But then you do tell me dear that: "You dont have to be everywhere"

I guess the future of this glass castle is to only get levelled,
I may have many equals in your perception; but in mine you are unparalleled;
And even as you tell me dear that : "You dont have to be everywhere",
All I can say is.. "I AM, already everywhere..."

The Dismay of Friendship's Sway...

2009-11-30T18:05:00.005+05:30

Life is lived, I always believed by the moments laced with happiness:
This journey gets transformed, from nothingness to completeness,
But even as I see others commit acts that are deplorable,
Empathy is what you give them in all ways affordable.

I am not supposed to be like “others” is what I am told,
But behind the façade of strength is my innateness, lo behold;
I have tried to supplement your apprehensions with so much reason,
But from others, reign hard, blows of treason.

Things were so awesome; It was not as the present, before;
And you tell me others have experienced much more,
I beg to differ; in matters of interpretation,
For, I have been on the other side of the fence, in many a situation

You tell me to take strength in my all rounded faculties;
That was flattering; but limited are my emotive capabilities
You set the standards and tell me they are differently graded;
And the same when implemented get variably traded;

The reason you give me is “I should not react so, since I am “me””
And for the first time in my life I am not filled with self envy,
Of what joy are achievements of statesmanship;
When I stand discriminated against in the inherent essence of friendship.

I cannot force you to change your ways;
But whether I deserve this; I wonder in dismay,
All I have left is to add to the numerous assumptions, as life sways;
What had to be this way; will be this way!

The Diwali of '09

2009-10-17T12:20:00.004+05:30

The Sufi songs of Kurbaan play back to back on my list even as I type this post. It’s Diwali on the IIM campus, just as it is across the other parts of the nation. Diwali is probably the most solid cultural link between the North and the South of the Vindhyas, in a land as diverse as India – talking of which brings back memories of all the cities I’ve celebrated Diwali in, over the period of my life thus far: Bangalore, Mumbai, Delhi, Chennai, Mysore and now Shillong.

One attribute of the festival of lights is its unmatched grandeur which is symbolic of the existence of human civilization. Poets and writers alike have written at length about the power of the light to liberate, primary of whom include John Henry Newman (Lead, Kindly Light) and B.M. Sri (Karunaalu Baa Belake – Kannada). The scene from Swades describes the festival of lights in an apt manner – one of sharing, love, contentment and hope : the last two emotions being opposite yet complimentary in nature.

An interesting comment by Sri Sri Sri Ravishankar on the importance of the humble “diya” in today’s Times of India is worth a recall here. He says that it is mandatory for the wick to remain part under oil and part out of it, exposed to the air, so that it can provide light to the surround. So ought to be the balance in all our lives which is most often a roller coaster of emotions. We all have faith, belief and expectation as the three underlying pillars of existence. And then these are both of internal and external dimensions. Managing these two perspectives is what is required of us and can be learnt from the omnipresent diya, the brilliant resonance of which according to me, is seen on the banks of the Ganges at Haridwar.

This flash of the thought brings to me the aspect of the transience of the present. T.S. Elliot rightly mentioned “Where is life lost in the living"...

I still believe that the “Hope of Hope is the reality of life” and I shall leave my readers with a beautiful one liner in the Times of India a few years ago when Ramzan and Diwali coincided on the same day.

“Here’s wishing everyone a very happy diwALI and RAMzaan” – It happens only in India...

Looking forward to this evening which promises to be a cracker of a celebration on the IIM Campus….

Pic below : The rangoli last time in front of the Academic Block..

Wake Up Sid!

2009-10-03T19:21:00.006+05:30

The beauty of Bollywood is that it has always been a universal healer. All you have to do when you feel low is to go and watch the latest bollywood flick to get your dose of rejuvination. The success of a movie is based on how well the audience relates to situations and the plot that the movie presents.

Wake Up Sid opens with Siddhart Mehra, a typical gen y individual from upmarket South Bombay (oops... Mumbai) the typical "Ameer Baap ka Bigda hua Beta" who is seen struggling to make a choice between video games and financial accounting on the eve of the final exam - no prizes for guessing what he finally goes with!

Enter Ayesha Banerjee, a typical "ajnabee in the anjaan shahar" who meets Sid at a party. Bold, suave, independent and outspoken are attributes best associated with Ayesha. A brave pick up line which is acknowledged by the latter leads them to the "most favourite hangout" of Mumbai - Marine Drive, which sets the foundation for a relationship of friendship.

Small favors by the chauvenistic Sid makes him liked by Ayesha who reiterates from time to time that they are "just" friends. Ayesha, with her chirpy nature lands herself a job at Mumbai Beat, a city based magazine as the assistant of the Editor-in-Chief, who takes her out on Jazz dates only to make Ayesha realize that she is better off humming Kishore Kumar and Saigal as against listening to boring jazz.

Sid's lifestyle can be best described as that lead by Hritik in the first half of "Lakshya", who on the other hand continues painting the town red, with friends until he fails miserably in his exams while his friends get through. A sound warning and hard talk by Mehra senior makes Siddhart wild and he storms out of the house. He moves in with Ayesha as a room partner (and not a live in one)and is gradually transformed into an organized person who gets to learn daily chores. Sid, with the help of Ayesha lands the job of a photographer at the same magazine, where he discovers his true talent.

A brief period of Sid dating Tanya is thrown in as the parallel track to Kabir (Edit-in-Chief) dating Ayesha. What happens post that is best described as true blue hindi movie storyline.

Though the movie gets caught in stereotypes for a brief 20 odd minutes, it does convey quite a few meaningful messages, one of which is to not stick to the conventional and striking out on your own, by pursuing your deeply embedded life interest.

Some good numbers, Shankar's melodious voice and great lyrics, make the movie a refreshing entertainer, though with hints of relatedness to Dil Chahta Hai, on certain occasions.

Great acting by Konkana is definitely something that leaves you impressed at the end of the movie. Karan Johar could have kept a greater grip on the screenplay, but otherwise, it's a good job indeed....

A 7 on 10 for "Wake Up Sid", and it definitely goes well with Sunday brunch if you plan to watch it tomorrow...- If you WAKE UP in time for Brunch, i.e. ... :-)..

Friendship's Journey.....

2009-10-01T02:59:00.001+05:30

I stood by you in times of sorrow and joy;
I did so too when surrounded by hoi polloi
I tried as much and managed to swallow all my fears,
So that I could, always wipe off your tears

I thought, I assumed and presumed for long,
That my assumptions could never be wrong,
And I moved all along advising you,
That the world is not like me and you..

You listened, You heard, I sought confirmation
I thought, as much, you comprehended the situation,
I knew for long that I’d never be shunned; this was a consolation:
In what I could comprehend in my limited imagination.

Days’ve passed and so have the seasons;
I’ve shared a bond of friendship with no precondition,
But today when the scheming hoi polloi emerged:
You turned your back on me and left me submerged…

You might have had reasons galore,
Existence of which has become folk lore;
Though a choice you did make today,
I shall still hope you realize someday..

No emotion is also a state of emotion:
This is what I feel as I type this explanation;
Learning to let go, for me is perhaps the only way;
Even when many, off our path try to make us sway…

Tracks diverge and so do they intersect;
Am human too; so I introspect:
Did I err somewhere, on this journey?
Answers to which may still remain a mystery….

What's your Raashee??

2009-09-27T17:21:00.009+05:30

For all those who are thinking twice on reading this post, let me assure you that I shall not spoil the fun of the movie - this is a review which gives you a good enough flavor without revealing the ending.

A lazy Sunday morning and nothing much to do, brought four friends from IIM face to face with Ashutosh Gowariker's latest flick in town...

The movie opens up well, with Harmaan playing Yogesss Patel, the "cool dude MBA from GSB Chicago who is leading a comfortable life in apna amreeka even as he doubles up as a DJ at night.."

Then of course is his family that is as ubiquitous as yours and mine - Mummy, Daddy, Bhaiyya Bhabhi Kaaka Kaaki and the extra - Kaakaji ki woh!

Summoned to India to solve a problem for which wedding is the incredulous recourse to, he sets out on an expedition as simple as that undertaken by the Archealogical Survey of India - to find a gal to be wedded to, with everything else including the date of the marriage having already been fixed!

Now this actually reminded me of the movie "Jhoot Bole Kawwa Kaate.." which has a song that goes like - "Hero Hai, Heroine Hai, Villain Hai, Shooting hai..par camera nahin!"

Yogessss' quest makes him intelligently choose a sample set from the population presented to him by his kaaku. This I guess is a fallout of the QT course (Quantitative Techniques) that he had during his MBA at Chicago. (For those of you MBA students reading this - life mein padhai kabhi kabhi kaam aajati hai...)

So he decides to meet one gal from each rashee(sunsign) already handpicked from the Gujrati community by his kaaku and take a call post the self styled "swayam vadhu" ceremony of sorts.

Priyanka Chopra has matured over the years as an actress and she has pulled off a blinder playing 12 roles in the movie. In fact when Gowariker was asked by Rajiv Masand on why he had the same gal play 12 roles, the reply was that, it was so done to neutralise the bias in the minds of the audience, which would have arisen otherwise.

Each innings played by Priyanka is a cameo and credit must be given to the director who has researched extensively on the traits of the sunsigns and mapped the characters well to suit the "stereotypes".

Apparently Ashutosh wanted A R Rahman to score the music for the film but 12 songs in a short span was not possible owing to projects that were already running for the music maestro. His substitute ,Sohail Sen has done a fine job in putting together situation based numbers (12 in all + the title track) for the film. Javed Saab as always, has been great at the lyrics. Special mention of Madhav Kadam and Rajesh Patil, who are Priyanka's make up artistes.

One negative - As with all Gowariker movies, the length of the movie is a little over 4 hours and the theater I watched it at, managed to wrap it up in 3 hours 20 minutes (by chopping a few songs), which I guess was wise, in a way - Consider a song tsunami with the elaborate setting for every raashee!!

The supporting characters play a great role with specific mention of Anjjan Srivastav (better known for his role in the television series Waagle ki Duniyan) who plays Patel Senior.The movie also provides a social message, and a good one at that, which completes the circle in a way.

Some good jokes thrown in, that go well with the situational comedy, make the movie a funtertainer. I especially like one dialogue in the movie where two Gujratis are speaking in broken Angrezi, and one of them remarks "Iph you bhant thu dhoo bijneeejjj, then ispeak in goojraati..."

The style of direction towards the end resembles that of Priyadarshan where all actors congregate at a given location, but all in all, the compartments do sum up to the larger objective of the movie.

Based on the Gujrati novel Kimball Ravenswood by Madhu Rye, the movie is a great entertainer with a good mix of humor, music, and an innovative story line. A 7.5 on 10 for "What's your Rashee" and you won't be disappointed at the end of the it.

And while you figure out what's Harmaan's favourite raashee at the theater near you, let me go grab a copy of Linda Goodman's "Sun Signs!"... On second thoughts, I'd rather find it interesting to discover the raashee based traits of the opposite gender myself, through personal interactions.... :-)

2 Days at a Conference Center

2009-09-25T12:21:00.007+05:30

Lights.Grandeur.Conclave.

Three words that best describe a grand conference.

Well, I was at one such conference recently and found it no less than the "Great Indian Wedding" as far as the attendees' profiling was concerned.

There are clear categories that you could segment the folks into:

1. The stiff upper lip - Yo mate!

This category of people will not speak to you unless and until its absolutely essential. They shall maintain aristocracy that goes best with swigs of aristocrat during cocktails. They have myriad ties that have interesting color combos on them. Their sole purpose of attending such events - to make their presence felt. Their hypothetical favorite Dialogue - "Rishtey main toh hum tumhare baap lagte hai; naam hai....Shehenshah"

2. Oji Welcome.. Oye... biradari hai ji

This set of people is straight out of a Yash Raj Production. Those that move around like the actors on the sets of Hum Aapke hai Kaun and believe that "gusto is the way to go" as far as socializing is concerned. They are known to surreptitiously slip their visiting cards (Eg. Mr. Balwinder Khosla, Sole Proprietor) into your palm while you are engrossed in their extrovert display of emotion. Their hypothetical favorite Dialogue - "Koi Gal nahin ji...apni gaddi toh goodwill naal chaldi hai"

3. The Happydent poster folks

Those that believe that 1000 watt smile is a key ice breaker and a substitute for a firm handshake, fall into this category. The elasticity of the smile is directly proportional to the reciprocation shown by others in the conversation. These are generally the introverts who believe in brevity of words. Their hypothetical favorite Dialogue : "....rukawat ke liye khed hai.."

4. The "Lost in Translation" folks

They sat. They snacked. They slept.

This set is comprised mostly of senior citizens (who were forced into attending the conference while they would have preferred a beer with old buddies at the local club)who take a quick snooze not just between speaker sessions and also through them. While the image the props up immediately is that of the quintessential "Shri Deve Gowda" pondering about the future of India in the Parliament.

The veterans can be excused actually. They intend no harm. They come over, listen for a few minutes, wake up during the Q&A, chuckle at the questions being posed, sip tea and snooze again...

Their hypothetical favorite Dialogue: "So gaya, yeh jahan...."

5. Young Gun Murugan

And then there are attention seeking blokes who keep jumping around like "bulls let lose in a china shop" - who sometimes are good but most often draw slack from the members of the fellow categories for being brash and upstart. They are like Yuvraj Singh of A T20 international who add some life into an otherwise boring test match...

Their hypothetical favorite Dialogue: "Idly Appam Sambhar khao Quick Gun Murugan ke Gun Gao....Mind It!"

Well, this was a brief snapshot of the audience - but I must confess, the entire experience for me was an enriching one indeed..and until next time, bring on the dessert folks... -:)!

The Great Indian Austerity Drive

2009-09-18T23:38:00.002+05:30

Indians have always been habituated to live the frugal way of life. Right from the learned "rishis" to "rahul baba", the world has turned a full circle.

"Kya aap gareebon se bhi gareeb hai?" - This is the question being asked to Netas on the latest "tamasha" er.. reality show "Sach Kaa Saamna".

The latest prime time discussion at Iftar parties and Navratri pandals has been that of how "simple" our netas are.

And while the one-up-man-ship continues, every politician wants to project his contribution to the noble cause. While five star hotel stay is prohibited in the interest of the party image, train travel is the mantra for Rahul Baba even if it costs the state exchequer 100 times more in providing SPG cover for the same.

While Mr. Tharoor's tweets are being dissected like that of a cockroach in a zoology lab, by people who don't understand as much English to comprehend a joke / witty comment, someone must tell the Congress Party that there is no use being penny wise and pound foolish as far as the austerity drive is concerned.

Before someone brands me as an insensitive capitalist, let me clarify that there is a lot that can happen between the sip and the lip and this game of exhibitionism, of scoring brownie points, will get us nowhere (except to the vote bank of course)

I mean, there are zillion wasteful expenditures to be cut down on(which includes maintaining the honorable members of Parliament and their lavish lifestyles on "sarkaari kharcha" and ought to warrant more attention than that of self censure of a people friendly politician whose head is being asked for, even as I type this).

The Government's austerity directive has left a few like Mr. Deve Gowda disappointed since he wanted to be seen as one who proactively supports the cause.
Maybe the next time around, Mr. Gowda can use the video conferencing software to express his opinion rather than take the next flight to Delhi (even if it's only "cattle" class)

The star hotels have suddenly found their revenues dropping owing to the crackdown on flamboyant netas.

It will be interesting to see where all this positions Mr. Mallya who would find himself stuck between conflicting priorities of austerity politics and brand image of the self. A suggestion would be to introduce khadi garments for all the hostesses and crew aboard Kingfisher to make a symbolic statement. < bad suggestion!>

Rumors are ripe that reservations on the inter state buses have risen 1000 fold owing to the chartering of low cost airlines and trains by netas and their entourage. Interestingly, India is a nation where resources are always a constraint and even if there's abundance of the same - the demand will always outstrip supply, with the philosophy being "Swalpa Adjust Maadi..."

Though I may not agree completely with the Mahatma's ideals, I am truly glad that Baapu is back in fashion again... The epitome of austerity is atleast being remembered for a brief period in time by a majority who do not. But the reasons are different. Mahatma Gandhi did it for a purpose with greater good in mind, while the same cannot be said about the present day politicians.

On that note, while news channels are thriving on the hot topic, the question that the aam aadmi such as you and me need to be asking is,

"Mirror Mirror on the wall, who's the most austere of them all?"

P.S. - A beautifully written piece by Bachi Kakaria on the same topic is here .

Pit Stop...

2009-09-12T20:42:00.006+05:30

Term 4 has ended. Term 5 has begun with a pit stop of just 48 hours. Such is life @ IIM. But the fun continues. There's lots to be done. And lots of exciting stuff at that.

We are reminded that placements are 3 months away by Professors who now look at us as near finished products from the brand factory of IIM.

The electives are interesting as usual, even as we jostle between picking those that equally inspire us but cant be taken since there is a credit limit that we cannot exceed.

The economy is looking up. And this is good news for us, for everyone in fact. The downturn that had taken the fizz out of bubblee last year seems to be atleast replaced by the freshness of lemonade this time around.

But then, with all the gyan that an MBA program imparts you with, this is a time where we all reflect where we all want to head in life.

It's all about the gratification that one perceives in his/her choice that matters. And if seven figure packages come along as part of some of these choices, it might be incidental.

The flexibility that a 66.67% MBA gets in order to choose his bowling lane of nine pins is probably the most cherished part of the program. And in being allowed to choose comes a great feeling of empowerment, to contribute, to make a difference.

Sometimes people complain that they have limited choices. And they sometimes complain that they have too many choices to choose from. I prefer the problem of plenty than that of paucity.

Thus, this pit stop is all about trying to make the best choice with limited visibility into the future. And in the process to have fun and make the most of life in the present....

Gentlemen,start your engines....

August 15, 2009

2009-08-14T20:55:00.006+05:30

At the stroke of midnight on 14th August 1947, the world slept, while India awakened to a new dawn, according to the words of Pandit Nehru. What seemed to be an almost impossible task - forming a union of 500 odd princely states that were as diversified as the colors of a butterfly, was nearly achieved, thanks to the efforts of the Iron Man of India - Sardar Vallab Bhai Patel. (I don't agree with Mr. Jaswant Singh's comments on Sardar Patel handing over Pakistan to Jinnah).

The skeptics frowned, betting on how quickly India would disintegrate based on the myriad plurality and the presence of a wafer thin commonality in social fabric.

62 years later, India has surprised many, and has become a case study in itself even as we speak today. Even as the swine flu pandemic sweeps the nation, the mood around is upbeat.

Incidentally, it was just this afternoon as the class on "Emerging Economies and Business" was in session at IIM, the core focus of the entire elective was the BRIC nations (Brazil, Russia, India, China) and how they are going to shape the world order by 2050.

Very interesting discussions on comparing and contrasting the "white tiger" with the "red dragon" happened, and how the world's obsession of India versus Pakistan has now shifted to India versus China.

The Chinese are industrious and determined - and are less threatened at their borders than us. Yet, they are beginning to get wary of the Great Indian resurgence. Recent reports of China increasing its focus on its southern neighbor are indicative of this fact.

Another contrast was made with that of Japan. The Professor opined that the thought of "Japan is for the Japanese" is more than that of "India is for Indians". The nationalism quotient is so high in Japan that their resurrection post World War II has been just incredible. India at times slips into spells of siesta (the famed South American nap)and needs to be shaken up to be urged to move ahead.

All said and done, Indian dominance in the trade relations the world over is definitely looking upwards. What looked impossible a decade and a half ago seems to be materializing - quick and fast. The Finance Minister has predicted 6.5% growth by 2010 despite the recession - and this holds a lot of significance for the nation.

As I may have mentioned in a couple of previous posts, the world which earlier used to worry about the future "of" India, is soon recognizing the fact that the future "is" India.

Even as we transition from Janmashtami to Jashn-e-Aazadi, at the stroke of midnight on 14th August 2009, the world awakens, to celebrate India's new dawn and it's about time to acknowledge that there is no better time than NOW, to be an INDIAN - Jai Ho!

Image below : India on NASDAQ.

The Poison Thought

2009-08-08T10:42:00.003+05:30

Life is a strange journey – it never prepares you for what to expect;
But it does present enough time for one to introspect;
And the thought of which links to the mad mad world,
Under the influence of which, thoughts they mold.

We all find comfort in myriad emotion:
Use somebody's emotion for solace and solution;
And when we all look back at emotions’ evolution,
It leads us back into good old introspection.

The times of joy, sharing and kinship,
Form the underlying essence of friendship:
It forms the foundation for probabilities of the future,
Which in turn enable emotions for nurture.

When things are fine, and the highways free,
Unwarranted opinions come from all and sundry;
Limited they are in the expanse of their imagination,
In others’ penury they find their emancipation!

But this is the essence of societal critic:
It forever fails to be gender agnostic,
And once the objective of the poison thought is achieved,
It moves on to other hosts on which it could feed...

After the storm comes the uneasy calm,
And we then grope for advice from the psalm;
What is the use of wisdom when it can’t be implemented?
Rejoicing are the minds that are so demented!

Abstinence appears to be the only way going forward,
An abrupt end it seems, to the graceful ballad;
How exactly it transforms we are yet to see,
But the writing on the wall is clear:“What is meant to be; is meant to be…”

Raksha Bandhan...

2009-08-05T16:18:00.002+05:30

Hello folks. Today is Raksha Bandhan. All I wanted to speak about RB is in this post here..

Yajur Upakarma @ IIM Shillong!

2009-08-05T07:19:00.004+05:30

Well,what do you get when you have 5 vatus (bachelor Brahmin "boys" :)) with a limited supply of resources but all enthusiastic to have some trace of tradition and rituals as part of their routine? - The answer is an "Open air Saamoohika Yajur Upakarma" (the annual ritual of the followers of the Yajur Veda to mark the change of the sacred thread) ; the optimized and abridged version, of course.

The memories of a couple of years ago are still afresh - The 6 morning batch at the Shiva Vishnu temple at T Nagar Chennai, the dash back home to get ready for office, the sumptuous lunch at the Raghavendra Swami Math and the self made Halwa for dinner - was such excitement loaded with contentment.

This morning even as the rest of the IIM hostel rested after a night out with case studies and presentations, a few among them found themselves as part of the MI 8 auditions in trying to wake up at the unearthly hour of 6 a.m.

There were a good number of combinations for the attire adorn by us. While RPA was an epitome of the "Mandir Purohit", there were others who had : towel + towel; trouser + towel; trouser + "null" and dhoti + "null" on them.

A majority of them being Tam Brahms, I was the only Kan Brahm in the group, but yes we shared the Best Practices of the Yajur Veda Upakarma (also referred to as Aavni Aavattam in Tamil).

Even as GK struggled with his notes in Tamil (which were as old as the excavations of Harappa and Mohenjodaro) I had my "post its" in Kannada to the rescue which contained fresh notes as dictated by Ma last night.

So we figured out that there were some language agnostic commonalities that could be adhered to by all.

As we went from one Mantra to another, we looked reassuringly at each other, hoping that we were on the right track.

KS was half zombied while KR looked on vigilantly over the course of the entire exercise.

As we entered stage 2 and 3 of the stipulated rituals, the world around us had begun to gather quick pace (Being in the North East, the sun rises a good 90 minutes ahead of the prescribed timing for the rest of India).

This year, the process was more elaborate with the junior batch at IIM having a sizable number (5 is indeed a sizable number in today's context) of interested participants.

This is the first time that I'm up at 6 in the morning in the past 2 months( considering that we go to bed by 3:30, it's indeed a tough order). But it felt to take in the oxygen and the fresh rays of sunlight loaded with Vitamin D, even as the cool breeze rejuvenated our minds.

As the brief ceremony drew to a close, we got back to our normal attire, with the vibhuti (sacred ash) and its fragrance still fresh on our palms.

The conversation soon shifted from Rituals and the Vedas to ERP and Business Law - thus ushering in the next phase of the day at IIM.

But before I get into classes that begin 25 minutes from now, I am off to pounce on some upma made by RPA, the fragrance of which is already reaching my room.

It indeed feels great to be a द्विजः - it comes with its small yet rejuvenating practices and privileges.

शुभं भवतु |

All you wanted to know about HBR!

2009-07-29T12:35:00.002+05:30

You are on the 56 th floor of a skyscraper in the heart of New York city, smoking Cuban cigars, and even as the ash carelessly drops on the ultra expensive Arabian carpets you check your blackberry (the futuristic edition of this smart gadget that only Ethan Hunt owns) which flickers with yet another notification for you to turn savior in the big bad world of management!

Well, if you were nearly as lost in your imagination as the adventurist in Jumanji, I would not blame you for the same. For, this is how a typical HBR case introduces the plot of sorts to its readers.

I've believed that there are two reasons for this - First, the case makes the reader believe he is the one and only available "Management Crime Buster" who is as qualified as Clark Kent (aka Superman) to solve the world's problems. Second,it is something like what Bollywood does to you - relates to your suppressed dreams and ambitions so greatly that it makes you believe that someday, even the surreal will come true!

The case then has a quick footnote on the authors who’ve worked on the case. While the first name that strikes you would invariably be the who’s who of the industry, you would find the unrecognizable names of a few research assistants who would otherwise have put in all the background research and efforts in making it possible.
Another intriguing fact about HBRs is that you will more often than not find a Sahay, Shanmugam or Parthasarathy as one of the authors and in case Parthasarathy has been unwell Yuan Hi would have been the substitute.

And with HBR, comes voluminous data. After a loooooong description of the company background (it is often it rumored that the company executives learn a lot about their own company after reading the HBR case based on the same). A few ensuing lines from the case could go something like this:
“While the company XYZ had consolitaded 47% of the market nationally, its international market cap was 23.67% of the total pie*” The * would eventually translate in fine writing at the bottom of the page as “This case was prepared in the period when the world was America and America was the world! Well, with a minuscule contribution from the insignificant communists…. Hail American Imperialism”

Then the case moves on to the actual facts and mindboggling ones at that, intertwined in the labyrinthine pathways of complicated language usage – so much so that the user needs to visit Oxford to get the import of every single meaning. (Incidentally, the British also apparently had made some contribution to the world at large? ). And the complicated language is often supported by several exhibits that equal the number of elements in the periodic table of elements we study in Chemistry!

And the HBR is as brilliant at creating sequels to the case as were the writers of Hercule Poirot’s mysteries. You often have a part A and part B to most cases that claim to give you insights into the “big” picture which otherwise could only have been obtained by watching “Saas Bahu” soaps and "Shivaji Satham in C.I.D." on Indian television.

HBR gloats about its relevance to modern day business by describing the “class” associated with historical cases – hence the mode of discussion in today’s context often becomes what should the company not have done what it did end up doing, but then again that is based on current facts and not those mentioned in the case. Here lies the dichotomy of most HBR cases.

Finally, the HBR leaves you at crossroads saying Scenario 1 for the business is good if the protagonist likes spending a vacation in the Swiss Alps, scenario 2 is good if he wants to follow up the business deal with authentic French wine, and option 3 is equally valid if he wanted to catch up with his Asian classmate (in the name of diversity) at B School for a quick post dinner discussion.What you would do when you are spoilt for choices is the “Million Dollar question”, speaking of which, the best part about HBR cases is that the price tag associated with each case can support my daily consumption of Masala Dosas for the next 6 months.
Maybe that’s what they refer to, when they say “From the horse’s mouth!”

But with the recent down turn and the recession in the west, I foresee more and more HBR cases coming out with the introductory storyline as under:

You are on the 56 th floor of a skyscraper in the heart of Navi Mumbai, smoking Vardaan Beedis(the eco friendly and human friendly ones), and even as ash (humari Aishwarya!) carelessly drops on the ultra expensive carpets (manufactured in Kashmir ) you check your blackberry (the futuristic edition of this smart gadget that only Elangovan Venkataramana Subramaniam Aiyar owns) which flickers with yet another notification for you to turn savior in the big bad world of capitalistic (read American) management!

Well, from Cincinatito Chandni Chowk, we’ve indeed come a long way.. Jai Ho!

Caveat Reador: Reader Beware!

1)Sincere apologies for the heavy English – I did not like it either
2)HBR stands for Harbhard Bijnezz Rebhiew and not what is otherwise popularly circulated
3)I might have been extreme in my stance on the issue, but I guess HBR is nearly as overwhelming if not greater for most first time readers
4)Finally, I personally have nothing against Capitalism. Just that it was needed to support the blog post

The Piano Lady!

2009-07-23T15:59:00.003+05:30

She is the best; was their claim,
Not just them; but huge was her hall of fame;
You have to listen, with glee they exclaimed!
I thus set out to ascertain the veracity of the same.

With great poise sat she, in front of the grand piano,
This was just the beginning of the music to follow;
As she rehearsed the notes of her melody,
This was the perfect precursor to the ensuing symphony.

What followed was the magic of the performance,
One of the finest that I’ve witnessed in existence;
As her nimble fingers caressed the zebra keys,
The sound of music filled the void of peace...

And with her singing, erupted the audience around,
Who later were silenced as they sat spell bound;
The freshness of the music and the life in her voice,
Stole the show without any surprise!

And as she arose to acknowledge the thunderous applause,
The epitome of humility felt overawed;
But she had beaten many a maestro at their own game,
She was better than the best in her rise to fame.

“A brilliant performance : My Oh My!
True to the spirit of : awesome music can get you high!
May the music of life be with you for long,
For, you are indeed the Nightingale of IIM Shillong...”

P.S. - More on the Piano Lady (title inspired by Billy Joel's Piano Man) can be found here . The link is 7 years old though. will update more as I find them.

Enchanted by Twilight!

2009-07-13T20:09:00.006+05:30

Today was one of those very rare "peaceful days" at IIM. After a hectic week of inducting the juniors into the community and culture, this was our first off day and I decided to make the most of it. Incidentally, I have assumed the role of a yoga facilitator on campus and my popularity has reached unprecedented levels considering the membership count. There was one junior yesterday and today there were two. A 100% increase is indeed something to cheer about. This experience, am sure will strengthen my candidature for employment at the Baba Ramdev centre for yoga considering that recession and its ugly face will take some time to get away from the campus scene.

The weather this evening was perfect for a stroll arnd the campus. The twilight was just enough to illuminate the path taken for the quick walk and even as the terrain turned out to be a natural roller coaster, the winding paths opened out into some picturesque landscape which provided the much needed respite from the limited (yet beautiful) expanse of the campus.

A few kids passed by, content with passing a soccer ball between them as they rolled with it, down the road. The serenity of the path in itself was so comforting that it presented a natural setting for introspection. The contentment on the face of the kids was so addictive that it rubbed off on me as well.

As the walk evolved, and the twilight transitioned into darkness and prompted me to retrace the steps back to the comfy environs of the campus. A comforting chat with one of the Profs. leaving the acad block for the day, a Burger and garam chai at the mess, and of course the current playlist on my lappie that has Asha Bhonsle on the vocals of "Ranjish Hi Sahi" - all this has made this a perfect ending to a great evening.

Current Mood : Contented.
P.S. : Thanks to SG for accompanying me on the walk..

Pic below: Twilight in the hills!

C-12 Dorm C...

2009-06-20T15:41:00.004+05:30

As I type this blog, I have two opened sachets of tomato ketchup lying next to my laptop, remnants of some paratha, reams of paper and a lot of treasures that lay beneath this mountain of richness.

I am clearing the room of C-12 of Dorm C at IIM to shift to the seniors' hostel to make way for the juniors. I type this post with some nostalgia about leaving my home for the past year and transitioning into better but unfamiliar territory.

All that glitters is not "home" and so is the fact that you may have Jaguar fittings, handshowers and attached baths with geysers, yet the row of rooms in the old hostel had their own charm.

Am moving to the good life but there are also memories to be treasured....

Some great batchmates who are now friends for life, is what Dorm C gave me the most - and am thankful for that. Even as I tear down a poster on the wall which says " Success doesn't come to you, you got to go to it", I am reminded of the crazy nightouts at a strech, the midnight coffee shop, the case study discussions, the frenzied academic rigour of the 1st year - all behind me...

And as we gear up to welcome the juniors, I leave behind an untold legacy in place I call my second home - " C-12 Miss Ya!"....

Party in the new hostel in 20 minutes: gotta rush....

Avataarization! It's on the blog too..

2009-06-15T22:50:00.004+05:30

Am back.. and this time, after quite some time. The world has turned topsy turvy during this entire period.

Everything around me has been changing at a frantic pace - from Sony Entertainment television's new soaps to Anil Kumble's turning cricket commentator. Not to be left behind to get onto the change bandwagon, I felt that the time was perfect for a makeover of this blog.

The main objective was to set the look and feel in concurrence with the theme of the posts constituting this blog - of liveliness in the life of life. The intent had been there for long. But the time to execute was a precious commodity indeed.

Nonetheless, it's finally happened and it gives me immense pleasure to present all my readers blog with a facelift - an all new Avataar.

The credit for the creative design and concept lies with dreamcatcher and I am extremely grateful to him for this effort. A batchmate at IIM, he is a writer himself and has some very good pieces of poetry in Urdu as well. Do check out his site when you have the time.

Till then, lemme manufacture some new wine for the new bottle, lest you get vintaged in the process.

Many more blog posts coming up - A promise....

Bartholomew!

2009-04-29T20:44:00.005+05:30

I still remember the stout medium sized digest that Dad handed over to me even as I entered 2nd grade. The one thing that attracted me the most about the book was it's shimmering gold edges that looked very beautiful when the it lay closed and the pages stuck to one another.The front cover of the navy blue hard bound presented to Dad by a Sailor friend was titled "Bartholomew" and what followed in Italicised font underneath was "World Atlas".

I was too young to know who Bartholomew was then, let alone try and spell his name. It was later in life that I realized that Bartholomew Diaz (Am sure we all recall the actress by the same surname)was one of the greatest explorers the world had ever seen. But back then, the "Atlas" as I came to call it, became my prized possession, for, it captured the limitless expanse of the globe in finite sheets of glossy paper.

While the 4 color combination presented the perfect visual appeal, the illustration of some of the most unheard of places took me on a virtual tour each night as I lay awake in bed, with a mission to explore our planet. All this was special, especailly in a world devoid of the internet which is so ubiquitous these days that it has made a lot of things to be taken for granted.

Well, why am I blogging about this today? - Today was the day which provided the opportunity to revisit this childhood interest of mine. A lecture that had almost taken its toll on us owing to the relentless and hectic academic schedule, had myself and PG(who was sitting in the chair adjacent to mine) utilize the world map printed in the final pages of a complimentary diary I had received for the new year.

We took turns in providing each other with names of cities and geographical forms to be located, even as we crisscrossed one continent after another. While some were crackable, others simply had both of us at our wits end. (I must admit PG fared much better than I did)

Well, did you know that the "Naresh strait" separted Ellesmere Island from Greenland? Or that the "Barrants Sea" covered the region to the north of Finland beyond the Arctic Circle? The "World's Amazing Race" took us from Zervis to Kingalon with a pitstop at Port Morsby. And yes, we did have a brief stop over along the journey at IIM Shillong to catch a few worlds of what the lecture had in store for us.

The experience just went on to show that there is so much more to explore and unearth under the expanse of the global canvas. It was a pleasant recall of the experiences I had nearly 2 decades ago and my special thanks to PG for the same.

Now let me get back to finding "Seram" on the globe since I need to "get around the world in 8 seconds....."

Till then, Happy Navigating folks...

Pic below - The Map we used for our short but rejuvinating game....

Life is (in) the Present

2009-04-04T01:58:00.001+05:30

Not often we seriously think,
As to what would happen at life’s brink;
We try and postpone things to accomplish,
Hoping for free time in which to cherish.

And as these wishes and feelings we park,
Goes on; life with its routine tasks;
We get caught in the quagmire of misery,
Caused by the permanence of unending drudgery.

We run the race to beat the competition,
We strive hard to achieve the mission;
We go that extra mile to prove we are better than the best;
And all the while we forget to pause and rest.

In the midst of finding the never ending solutions,
Overawed we are by the sea of emotions;
We missed the smile, the warmth and what not in the ongoing strife,
We failed to savor the musings of everyday life.

And then when we look back on the transience of the permanence,
We take note of the pursuit of perseverance;
But by then there’s very little left of self sustenance,
And it ends up reflecting on the epitaph of erstwhile existence.

With all this comes the importance of the present,
It’s a gift that exists which is why it’s a Present:
As we go along we choose what we make of it;
There’s no room ever for regret in life, and so my friend, “Just do it”….

Reality Bites...

2009-03-16T00:41:00.007+05:30

It's 1 a.m. and I am currently listening to Jagjit Singh's 400 kilo "bhaari awaaz wale ghazals" which best describe the current economic downturn.

We incidentally had an inspiring session on "how to become successful entrepreneurs" by Rashmi Bansal, this evening at the campus.

Dhanda sab jagah Manda hai and the reality is closer home; even the IIMs are having a tough time this year. Talking of reality, I have been forced to think of alternative careers. As luck would have it, the cook at the IIM hostel mess finds my singing so good that he wants me to participate in the next edition of Indian Idol. He has even assured me of his sms vote to inspire me for the cause. I told this to a batchmate of mine, KAP and he was all excited about the idea.

It just goes to show that people really can get desperate in times of crisis; for, my singing is as good as A.R. Rehman's skills in playing kabaddi. But yes, I do stand a good chance if the reality show is titled "Sab Se Besura Kaun!". Cashing in on the recession, people have gone overboard in selecting themes for reality shows.

I read in the papers that there is a contest for recruiting cheerleaders for the Kolkata Knightriders. Come on! gimme a break - Are they going to judge cheer leaders by a reality show!

In fact, some of us have taken the instructions given by one of the Profs. too seriously. His point to use television talk shows as secondary sources in our case study discussions has made us watch shows like Roadies and "Dance India Dance" with renewed vigor.

Looking at the trend, the following could well be the next themes of reality shows:

IPL : Indian Political League - the real reality;
Kaun Banega Pradhaan Mantri - Tantri ya Mantri?
Sab se zyaada bakwaas karega kaun? - award sponsors: Aaj Tak, India TV, Star News
Agli Injury kiski - predict karo aur ban jao ranji trophy cricketer
IIM: Aana hai mushkil, nikalna almost namumkin
Slumdog Millionnaire II: kya aap hai agley Jamaal Malik?
Apne pairo pe khulaadi maaro - winner gets 2 days & 3 nights in Pakistan-the land of no return

Every reality show contestant needs to have the following pre-requisites (nothing personal but this is reality)

One has to be from a town smaller than Jhumritalaiyya
One has to have an ailment in the family (if self has it, it is more valued)
One has to breakdown atleast once in front of the camera
One has to create controversy by sledging/maligning either a co-contestant or the overall show
One has to have a huge gang of maamaas, chachas and dosts who are vela enough to send the requisite number of sms es.
One should have acted in a Bhojpuri ad atleast once - the likes of Chutki paan masala (Ok I made the last one up)

I do agree that some of these shows do assist weaker sections of the society to hope for a better life, but the hype and disappointment for all but the winner is just too much.

But as they say in the land of Utopian economics - where there is a demand, there will surely be a supply.

Jai Ho!

Ekam Evam, Evam!

2009-02-19T23:36:00.004+05:30

For the theatrically and linguistically challenged, Evam is a theatre group based out of Chennai and Ekamevam in Sanskrit means “One and Only”.

Okies. Here we go. The entire day today had yours truly enduring the pain induced by the nth root canal treatment that I’ve been undergoing (My Maker didn’t quite get my dentistry right, but nonetheless compensated with the rest..). After an overdose of the nauseating odor of Powdered Calcium (which once happened to be my tooth), Cement, Clove Oil, Anesthesia and Rubber (gloves), I decided that attending a comedy play would do good to both my pot holed jaws and my tensed soul.

Off I went to get my day’s dose of free laughter – courtesy the Bengaluru Habba’s theatrical show (which I’d incidentally attended last year as well). This time around it was the celebrated Evam, from Namma Chennai that was to present “the original spoof” of Hamlet, by William Shakespeare – the T 20 version.

The subject had me all excited. For a person who deeply appreciated his Non- Detail Text Book of class 12, Hamlet was one of those “loooooong” plays that did not form part of the syllabus. So, as I do before all plays that I attend – I got a de-brief of the plot of the original from “your friendly neighborhood Wikipedia” where names such as Ophelia seemed very familiar. Even as I sipped on some chilled apple juice – I navigated through the world wide web and had just about 5 minutes to read a two line synopsis of the play. Which I later realized was good enough.

The Chowdiah Memorial Hall – where the play was to be staged, has a special significance, for this is where I watched my first play, “Snow White” way back in class 1.

The show began with a snapshot of Evam and their work, not to mention the commemoration of over 200 performances by the group. A three person act was what it was going to be, with two of the three playing multiple roles. Owing to the fact that I am mathematically challenged, I was quite undone counting the number of roles played by the three some (the roles included those of the palace guards too – not to forget one of the members of the audience who was coaxed into playing an extempore of Ophelia!).

Even as the mood of the spoof was set by caustic comments on the Rama Sene and the Economic Slowdown, the actors with their mismatched attire and some wittily crafted dialogues (especially targeting the Shakespearean Quotient of the audience) had us guffawing away to glory.

While “unconventional” would be the best word to describe the play, within the play, within the play (those at the venue would understand that the words are not redundant), the only time where we sat silent was during the first 7 odd minutes of the second half.

The seamless role rendition that had styles from those of Rajesh Khanna to the Stiff Brit Upper Lip was indeed commendable. The one takeaway was the character of Ophelia who kept running directionless, around the stage like Jiah Khan in Ghajini.

But what I liked the most was the sequencing of the play. While what played out in the play was a T 20 version, they replayed the highlights of the play and then replayed the highlights of the played highlights and finally ended with the reverse sequencing of the entire play akin to the visuals of the song “Solace” by Enigma.

With some beautifully worded disclaimers and just the right amount of non English puns, it was a thoroughly enjoyable one. Evam indeed did justice to the spoof of “The Hamlet, the greatest work by William Shakespeare – the T 20 version”
Kudos to the entire team of , “Ekam Evam, Evam”….

P.S. – As “Luck by Chance” would have it, I incidentally bumped into two of my Class 11 buddies at the venue, which indeed was the icing on the cake....

Dev D - Movie Review

2009-02-08T22:41:00.003+05:30

Dev D= Daaru + Drugs + Damsels => DISASTER.

Am not wasting any time of either the reader or myself, any further.

We, the People...

2009-01-25T23:50:00.002+05:30

In 10 minutes from now, the largest democracy on the planet will celebrate its existence as a sovereign socialist secular democratic republic. And being in the Rajdhani gives you the air of royalty even as you see the semblance of this historic day in the Indian context.

Well, the 26th of January is important to most Indians - especially when it falls on a friday or a monday. The two most important days that make a quick vacation possible.With choices ranging from Shimla to Jaipur, fellow Indians are making the most of the getaway. I saw quite a few vacant chairs in office on friday last only to learn that the holiday planning had been perfect.

For others, it is a day when "dhandha thoda mandha hai" since people wake up at noon, thus jeopardizing the "rosy roti" of the morning hawkers.

While many others are put off by the traffic advisories that prevent them from smooth cross border movement into Noida, Gudgaawaan and Faridabad, there are some who complain that too much of congestion has lead to their day getting wasted.

I overheard a few school kids discussing about their all important class match owing to the "holiday" tomorrow.

The Times reports that jobless teenagers living on the streets dread 26th January since they get beaten up by the police in the name of security.

My father advises me on phone to refrain from venturing out into the streets tomorrow since it might not be "safe".

A country of a billion people checks, rechecks and reassures itself that after all the elaborate security arrangements, it is safe enough to "celebrate" the red letter day at the Red fort - painting the picture of a painful ordeal for many involved in otherwise what should an expression of self reliance.

Well, if you are reading this post and donot fall/relate into any of the aforementioned categories, chances are that you are a "neta" who will be attending the parade tomorrow.

This is the county of the billion Indians (myself included) who swear by the opening lines of the Indian Constitution - " We the People...." and immediately move on to the chai paani kept at the corner of the stadium.

The time has come to move ahead from just the 3 opening words - we need an attitudinal change to change ourselves and influence change in others.

It is only then, that "We the people" will eventually evolve into what we are truly capable of. Let Me stop talking and Let Us start acting.

Proud to be Indian. Happy Republic Day. Let's make it meaningful. Jai Hind.

Obama Blah Blah…

2009-01-21T20:20:00.003+05:30

Even as the 44th President of the United States assumed office in Washington D.C., the world waited with bated breath to witness Bushisms translate into Obama’s blah blah.

The rhetoric was evident over the entire discourse that Senator Obama provided his wide eyed audience with. For me, it was a respite after watching Chandni Chowk to China on Sunday last.

I settled down into the couch with some baklava (Jordanian sweet meats with pista and other dry fruit sandwiched in between) and mused at how America was going to follow the “In Change, I believe” punchline of Barrack Hussein Obama.

The line I liked the most through the 20 minutes that I sat before the idiot box was – “Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America - they will be met”. [huge applause by the audience to something that made no sense at all…..]

Digressing slightly, my aunt brought in an interesting point, loaded with sarcasm though, when she said “What is the difference between Raju and top bosses of the financial behemoths of the US. While the latter flouted the bare minimum rules governing credit worthiness, the former did the same – just that he overrated his personal repaying capacity on the interest free loan that he provided to Maytas” .

Well, as a starting point, Obama has decided to infuse activity in the US Mail system. Yes, in the age of the e mail, Obama believes snail mail deserves its rightful place in propelling America forward. Why else would he then write a letter to his daughters instead of using technology?

In terms of other sectors of the economy, terrorism tourism that was so actively promoted by his predecessor will be continued in order to show to the world that there is no better place for free practice of war games than the oil fields of Iraq and the hills of Afghanistan.

The 35 word oath seemed as tough as Shakespearean poetry to Obama, who stumbled and fumbled in front of his bemused wife who could not stop grinning. George Bush, I am told felt nostalgic about all the bloopers that he had had over his years in office.

Introduced to the gathering as the son of an African Immigrant whose rise to the supreme office against all odds was almost as if it had drawn inspiration from Danny Boyle’s latest flick to fame – “Slumdog Millionaire”.

A pensive Hillary Clinton watched the ceremony with the look of “So near yet so far” on her face. Others who attended the ceremony were Aditi from Connaught Place, Dev Babu from West Patel Nagar, Chunnu from Patiala, Chironji Laal from Ferozpur aur unke saathi. As the citizens bore the chill - draped with jackets and KFC banners, others across the world celebrated the rise of “hope over fear”.

The Times of India reported that the Luo tribe in Kenya rejoiced the fact that one of their descendants made it to the land of Amerigo Vespucci and then made it big. The Japanese town Obama, which means “little beach” in the local language, felt the emotional connect owing to the commonality of name. – Osama , are you listening?

The school in Jakarta where he studied as a pre nursery kid said that the President had taken his fledgling steps on the lawns of the Indonesian capital. Success has many fathers. Indeed.

I was trying to relate the grandeur of the event that cost 170 Million $ with that of the “Great Indian swearing [in]”. Maybe Madam Mayawati could comment on this.

Well, as the clock struck 12 and the billion people in India decided to go to sleep as Obama continued his historic speech, I decided to turn in too, with the only hope that his comparison with the legendary Martin Luther King Jr. turns out to be atleast 1% true – for, I have been truly inspired by the American leader of yesteryears who did not make his speeches, but actually lived the dream!

(I strongly recommend anyone who has not heard Sir Martin Luther King Jr. emote “I have a dream”, to log onto youtube and get inspired..)

Till then, “God Save America!” [pun intended]…Congratulations Mr. Obama, we await the change [for the better]..

Sanjay Singhania - Movie Review.

2008-12-30T18:32:00.005+05:30

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…

Purani Jeans aur Guitar....

2008-12-28T22:02:00.003+05:30

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.

6 friends, Bhutia Market and a hefty bill

2008-12-19T00:35:00.007+05:30

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...

Rab Ne Kyun Bana Di Jodi?

2008-12-14T11:17:00.004+05:30

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....

Murder.Mahyem.Mumbai

2008-11-29T11:00:00.005+05:30

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

Bakar Machao!

2008-10-28T14:38:00.003+05:30

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.

Dil Haara Re…

2008-10-18T10:35:00.004+05:30

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. ;)

Learning to Let Go….

2008-10-13T20:36:00.004+05:30

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?.....

Necessity is the mother of innovation but Hostel Life is the Daddy

2008-10-09T13:17:00.007+05:30

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!

Rock On, Meningitis and some MBA Gyan

2008-10-01T19:10:00.008+05:30

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...

Main Kahan Hoon?

2008-09-24T23:38:00.002+05:30

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...

IIM Shillong – The birth of the pioneers

2008-07-09T01:51:00.003+05:30

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

Yeh hai Blogistan Meri Jaan...

2008-05-28T14:48:00.004+05:30

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”…..

Yeddi, Steady, Go

2008-05-27T10:52:00.007+05:30

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...

IIM Possible

2008-05-24T07:45:00.006+05:30

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”.....

Happy Days.

2008-04-07T00:28:00.002+05:30

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…..

Five colleagues, a full tank of petrol, and a drive into Nature’s beauty

2008-03-20T09:37:00.014+05:30

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..

To Err is French, To Forgive is the Wine!

2008-02-21T09:42:00.007+05:30

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!

An Evening with Mynta

2008-02-10T21:45:00.000+05:30

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.."

Sutta Baaz!

2007-11-19T10:53:00.000+05:30

Nope it’s not the next Anil kapoor Sri devi starrer on lines of Chaal baaz!

A Sutta Baaz, as defined by the Rashtriya Hindi Shabd Kosh (also called dictionary: for those of you who dint know) is a person whose “har prograam ka main phood” is sutta.

Sutta comes in a variety of shapes and sizes. And a wide range in fact – from Mangalooru Ganesh Beedi to Raabart wala Marlboro. From the information that I have gathered, apparently sutta and cutting chai are supposed to be an unbeatable combination that is relished especially by engineering students who wish to give their breakfast a miss.

P.S.- Any description is not truly the author’s experience. It has been collected from a variety of sources. Ma! This is for your informaiton, lest you think of me as a DTM (Dari Tappida Maga – translated as the son who lost his way).

Ok. Back to the topic. Since my inception in the corporate world, (which is roughly for about three and a half years now), there is one place that has caught my attention as the most happening “adda” and that is the Smoking Zone at office also called the Cancer Club.

The criteria to join the club require you to be a connoisseur of tobacco in either active or passive mode. This is one place where you can find people across departments, hierarchy, caste, creed, color, gender(this is catching up specially outside BPOs) and all the other non-discriminatory parameters as laid down by the U.N. General Assembly.

This is the prime location where a variety of topics are discussed right from the Sensex to behind the scenes stories of office politics. What text books on Organization behavior call “Grapevine” is precisely this.

What’s more, this elite club is organization agnostic.

Overheard this morning at the Sutta Club:

1 “Kings” is lit.

Mr. B: Yaar, Bohot tension ho gayi hai
Mr. J: Kyun bhai kya hua?

J uses B’s cigarette to save a match stick for India. (Applause!!)

Mr. B: Saala 2 lakh gaye mere, Mukesh ke wajeh se?
Mr. J: Arre apna Mukesh joh humarey department main hain?

Mr. B: Nahin re, Mukesh Ambani, usne kuch Iraq mein locha kiya hai is liye bhaav gir gaya, abhi joh maine teesra flat kharida tha pichley haftey usko bechna padega. Kya naubat hai.

The rings of smoke resemble Kekule’s benzene structure! (yes, I still remember :))

Mr. J: Chal Chill maar yaar. Yeh bata, is baar Quarterly payout ki kuch khabar?
Mr. B: Kyun muh khulva raha hai? Shukar karo is baar negative mein nahin jaa raha hai

The cigarettes are half spent

Mr. J: Suna hai Mrs. K ko out of turn promotion mil raha hai?
Mr. B: Haan woh Mr. P ke team mein jaa rahi hai.
Mr. P: Meri team mein? Mujhe khud pata nahin
Mr B: Maine tumhe bataya nahin aur tumne kuch suna nahin

The cigarettes are almost dying out like the lamps at the deathbeds of the aged actors of bollywood movies(wah! Kitni filmy hai!! Nirupa Roy would be proud of me)

Mr. J: Chal woh chhod. Weekend pe kya plan hai?
Mr. B: Bohot hectic yaar. Saturday ko London mein hoon. Wahan se Paris hotey huey Wednesday ko New York mein hoon. Return flight via Dubai hai, who bhi 1 day stop over ke saath. Travel kar ke thak gaya hoon yaar. Ab dekh last trip mein around the world in 80 hours ho gaya tha. Bohot pressure hai

(Nautanki Saaley!)Me began thinking on lines of Mungeri Laal –

“Na ghooma mainey UK
Na dekha hai Amreeca.
Par shikayat, beta inki sunkey
Ghoom aaya khwabon mein poori duniya”

End of conversation.

The cigarettes that provided a medium for the conversation are crushed under the expensive “Franco Leone” shoes, which completes their 2 minutes and 37 seconds life span from the mouth to the foot.

(The butt is almost out with the last bright flicker!)

Not sure how to end this post. So let me just say, An ode to the sutta, sutta club and the sutta baaz.!

John Abraham would definitely love it...

Ninnindale...Ninnindale...

2007-10-26T16:17:00.000+05:30

Music in any form is something that I have enjoyed through the years, but there are very few songs have caught my attention so much that they get ingrained in memory simply for the quality of music and emotion that they portray.

The last Bollywood song that I remember belonging to this category was “Kya Mujhe Pyaar Hai” from Woh Lamhe. But looking at the Kannada film industry, there has not been a single song of this repute that I’ve enjoyed as much for a long time.

As they say, for music to be classified as “classic”, it should be near perfect in all constituent aspects including melody, tune, lyrics, emotion, situation and most of all how it is packaged and rendered in totality.

For almost 4 weeks now, I have been listening to one particular song that has swept me off my feet – “Ninnindale..Ninnindale..” from the movie Milana. The first time I heard this was on a local FM station while returning from work at 11:30 in the night, and has since redefined my liking for the song, each time I listen to it, so much that it has mandated a separate blog post to be dedicated to it.

With music being composed by none other than Mano Murthy , lyrics by Jayanth Kaikini, ,picturised in the exotic locations of Europe and melodiously rendered by Sonu Nigam and Shreya Ghoshal, this song just makes the listener sway and get fully immersed into the elements of the song.

Kudos to the team that put together this song. It simultaneously brings out emotions of energy ,tranquility love & angst, and combines the genres of rock, hip hop, fusion and classical carnatic. A unique combination indeed.

And even as I listen to the song in repeat mode on my laptop for the 21st time in the past 4 hours, I also find the same reverberating through the headphones of colleagues around me, and am not sure this would continue for many days to come.

Signing off, here I am, diving deep into the melody of the music. “Ninnindale Ninnindale..” turn on the volume guys. This is heavenly..

P.S. - Thanks to M.V. for sharing this song.

Bhutto is back!!!

2007-10-18T12:02:00.000+05:30

After a long absence for over 6 weeks on the blogsphere, I am back with a bang with as much fanfare as that accompanying Benazir Bhutto's return to Pakistan.

I am happy for Benazir. After allegations of corruption against her and her husband Zardari (who by the way was called Mr. Dus Percent), apparently Mushi who has a heart of olive (yes, everything about Mushi is Green - his uniform, his vegetable meal, his envy, well, it is understood that he refuses to touch anything non green lest he be stripped of his uniform), had a change of opinion towards Mr. & Mrs. Bhutto(or rather Mr. and Mrs. Zardari) and offered the olive branch (see,there's green again :)) as a mark of friendship, and has thus managed to stage a puppet democacy in Pakistan. And the stage is set for Benazir's return in a style comparable that used for the victorious T 20 team. She would be on an 18 hour procession from the Karachi airport to the mausoleum of Jinnah,in a specially modified 20-foot shipping container attached to the back of a lorry. What joy!

Since I am not expert on international politics, all inferences drawn are part of those of a demented mind, trying to make sense of why such similar things happen in the sub continent.

You see, Bhutto's compatriot, Sonia has had a see saw on the nuclear deal as frequent as Rahul Dravid's recent visits to the pavilion, and the joke that during the rounds is that congressmen call up the left for permission even before they visit the rest room.

Meanwhile, even as Inzy wobbled off the field like an overused bull dozer, struggling with his English, just as he used to a couple of decades ago, Sachin is showing no signs of retirement. A recent report said that he is keen on playing with his son in the same Indian team, claiming that Boost was the secret of his energy. One word of caution though for Sachin. Hope his son does not face the same fate as Rohan Gavaskar.(Rohan who??)

I cannot compare the movie industries of the two countries, since I know not of a single hit Pakistani film, actor or actress, so my mind draws a blank there.

Finally, even as the Indian aviation industry gears up to carry Mallya's tummy oops baby, the all new "Simplifly deccan" in true Kingphiser ishtyle is set to create a new record. I heard they are now proposing to launch "a free air ticket with every beer" scheme to promote the newly launched brand. If changing the color of paint could change performance, the "hangover in the head" Indian cricket team could do with a change in uniforms.

Coming to think of it, do Pakistanis have any other option other than PIA? Maybe they are going to allow Air China to operate domestic services.

Enough of comparisons! Even as we bask in our similarities and bite into our differences, the aam aadmi on both sides is yet to get his necessities of roti, kapda, makaan and mobile! the sooner, the better...

18 Trivial questions

2007-08-31T16:34:00.000+05:30

I have not been tagged for quite a while now. Silverine has posed an open tag dare and I just happened to pick it up.. So here goes....

1.Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it.

Well, I suddenly realized that not having a scar was rather uncool when my cousin kid sister, visited us after a Harry Potter movie and exclaimed –“ Harry is a wizard because he has a scar”. The poor me, with no other avenue to become a genius, used the divider of Ma’s students to get myself a scar. People tell me I have gone from bad to worse. “J K Rowling, you are sure to get to your lawyer soon”

2.What does your phone look like?

Phone? What’s that? All I have is a gadget that has the latest MP3 songs, doubles up as a camera, uses quick office like a mini computer, acts as an alarm clock, but makes no calls….I wonder why…maybe it does not have a SIM card.

3.What is on the walls of your bed-room?

Hmm. I grew up in my bed cum study room over the past 14 years. So the walls are no longer recognizable. They have everything from Sachin Tendulkar pin ups, Trigonometric formulae, stains of Boost (9 years old and growing strong), and an examination time table containing the good old subjects that have been part of most curricula from the eras of Shah Jahan to Sonia Gandhi.

4.What is your current desktop picture?

Bah! How I wish I could choose my own pic. The Systems guys in the company have put up a desktop picture having text that reads as , “ You are looking at this in case your window is minimized which means you are not working!”

5.Do you believe in gay marriage?

I have been advised by my brand manager to be neutral in my response. So here goes – “ While the right of choice of an individual is to be respected, Societal norms out to be kept in mind as well”

6.What do you want more than anything right now?

Something!

7.What time were you born?

Though I am told that it was 8:17 p.m. on a cold winter night, I must admit I have no confirmed source of verification. But irrespective of the exact time, I know for one thing that my mom had a terrible time.

8.Are your parents still together?

The word “Still” needs to have a reference. I saw them together yesterday, and Dad’s away on a work related trip and am not sure of the situation post that.

9.Who was Last person who made you cry?

Well, boys are not supposed to cry. But the last time I shed tears (of joy) was when, I burnt the midnight oil for a straight 2 weeks and delivered a job of high quality and got the recognition from my boss as “ not a bad job”

10.What is your favourite perfume/cologne/ deo?

Cigar, The fragrance of the deo helps camouflage the real ones. :P

11.What kind of hair/eye color do you like in the opposite sex?

The last time I tried assessing my choice from among a wide variety available, I was almost jailed by the moral police..So there..

12.What are you listening to?

The sound of silence (most people are sound asleep, post lunch)

13.Do you get scared of the dark?

Nah! I’m just pertified!

14.Do you like pain killers?

Yes as long as they help you get rid of people who are a pain in the !@#

15.Are you too shy to ask someone out?

The last time someone asked me out was the Department HOD in Engineering course. And he wasn’t quite shy during the process. I am yet to arm myself with that confidence..

16.If you eat anything right now, what would it be?

PUDIN HARA!

As a matter of fact, I just returned after a heavy meal immediately followed by a colleague’s farewell, that comprised of veg puff, chocolate pastry, French fries, and ice cream, on the menu.

Why did you have to ask? *groan* *burp*

17.Who was the last person who made you mad?

LOL, no one can make a person mad when he already is one…:)

18.Who was the last person who made you smile?

The kids in the school bus that I saw from the window of my bus this morning, all cuddled up and cute, on their way to school….

Happy Long weekend, everyone....

100 Not out!

2007-08-31T16:31:00.001+05:30

A big thank you to all of you who have endured my writing over the last year and a half. I have completed a century of blog posts and am grateful to all my readers.

Warm Regards,
Asmyaham.

A date with Sister Stella!

2007-08-30T09:52:00.000+05:30

Last week, I embarked on the “Amazing Race”, traveling across the congested bylanes of Bengalooru (yes, we’ve re-christened ourselves, as part of increasing the rest of the world’s competency in pronouncing tongue twisters, and after you are done with Bengalooru, you can try Hubballi, Mangalooru, Vijaapura etc…), and battling against all odds to reach Indiranagar, which is diagonally opposite to the part of town where I stay. The journey equalled the duration that suffices to reach the royal city of Mysooru.

All this, because my new employer wanted “saboot” that I was medically competent to deliver benchmarked performance in my role. I arrived at my destination, half blackened by the soot and carbon that fed my otherwise healthy cells with their dose of equivalent nicotine fix. I am almost sure that if and when a carbon dating analysis is done on my body to check for the civilization that I belonged to, my cells are sure to throw up data pretty much off the mark, coz, the carbon content in me would be equal to that of those in the tyrannosaurus rex that once ruled the earth.

Nonetheless, I entered the diagonostic lab, only to find “would be” colleagues also present there for a similar ordeal. The nonchalant ward boy looked up to me and said: “X ray?”. I looked at him, puzzled. Now, how am I supposed to know that owing to the level of fraudulent practices, people are now using the photographs of the spine and femur as unique identifiers, instead of photo ID cards?.

I opened my wallet and showed him my driving license. He retorted, “ Saar, X Ray, X Ray!”. As I looked confused, another colleague of his came up and directed me to go to the X Ray room located in the basement of the building. The stairs that led the pathway to the dingy room were as fragile as Shankar Dayal Sharma’s knees and I was worried that the stairs might collapse under my weight.

The X Ray guy asked me to get half monty and motioned me to pump up my biceps at the count of three as he prepared to fire the trigger. It was almost as if I was modeling for a Pirelli calendar, all set to become the next pin up poster of Bollywood (coz Italian cinema is yet to open its doors to Indian actors) .

Well, that was the end of round one. In Round two, I was ushered into a private room which was apparently the ECG hall. Sister Stella (well I guess that was her name since she was not wearing a name plate), exclaimed “Wellgum Wellgum. In cayse you hyave yenny myettal aabjects von yo, blease geep theym ivadey(here) on the coat(cot)”. I followed her instructions and she asked me to lie down on the adjacent cot.

She proceeded with fastening me with objects that best resembled the vacuum stickers that are stuck on the doors of refrigerators. She applied some solution which was pretty ticklish, and followed up by asking me to pull up my tee shirt, and then she chuckled “ Monney, pvull up the banniyan volso, ECG alle?”

I almost fell asleep, for it had been long since I had been pampered, and nothing better than an ECG room to soothe your nerves and help you relax. The serenity was broken when someone who I assume was the chief matron barged in and said, “ Sister, please be quick! We have a lot of patients waiting”. I thanked the nerse with "Onashamshagal" which was a week away, and walked out of the room.

The ECG was followed by a blood sample collection. In fact the nerse struggled to draw out blood from my fore arm despite securing the pressure pads around my upper arm and she exclaimed, “blooddey illey, monney”. This time I grinned, considering the fact that my new employer would not be able to suck my blood since I didn’t have any (the literal translation for “khoon choos na”)

The urine sample collection and routine color blindness test followed suit and the doc, after some elementary questions asked me to get along.

Thus, ended the half day ordeal, post which I walked out disoriented (they drew out almost a bottle of scant blood, you see), tired and hungry, and mused on an internet joke I had received earlier during the day.

“The employer conducts a medical examination and secures health insurance for the prospective employee as a moral obligation for all the diseases and stress he picks up as an occupational hazard”.

What joy! I say myself, even as I have begun lugging a 3 kg laptop that has already given me a sore right shoulder in 3 days……-:)

We, the people!!

2007-08-14T23:18:00.000+05:30

“Maa!” I called out to mom. “ Can I please borrow the stick you use for hanging clothes, for a day? ” “ You sure can, only if you step in to be my mobile ladder in its place” she quipped. Flag Hoisting at our household is more important a ceremony, than that of any religious festival, with no less pomp and grandeur, much as expected in a family of freedom fighters.

I have a captive audience for the ceremony, you see.. Maa’s students, the maid of the house, and some neighbors, assemble atop the terrace for the most important event specified above

Aazadi, Freedom, Independence… Three words that hold special meaning to those who swear by the same. And 60 just makes it more special. A living miracle, some call her, while others believe she’s ready to take on the world, and as Shobha De puts it, India at Menopause reflects her maturity on the world stage.

Well, irrespective of perceptions, we’ve definitely come a long way. The beauty of a democracy is that despite all the spokes that try stopping the wheel of progress, economics has the power of making its presence felt.

A telephone call at a fraction of a rupee, the technology revolution, the farmer at the ATM, education and its reach, yes these are indeed the positives to cheer about. Critics argue that these necessities that were once luxuries are not all pervasive, and blame it on the “system”, while washing their hands off the tasks at hand.

Today’s edition of The Times of India has a wonderful message on the cover page, on the power of two letters – D.O.

It very carefully outlines the typical cynic who lists a variety of hurdles that he considers roadblocks in the path of progress. The very next set of lines, outline the power of “D.O”, they describe the power to transform situations, the power to translate the potential of thoughts into the kinetics of action, the power to change, by not dwelling on the glories of the past or the uncertainties of the future, but, by dominating “TODAY”.

With each passing day unfolding the spectrum of opportunities that once were part of the exclusivity of the West, Brand India is all set to stamp its authority over the world. From near bankruptcy in the early nineties to a Foreign exchange reserve in excess of 217 Bn $ by 2007, we’ve really come a long way.

As it is clichéd, yet true, “India, once a land of snake charmers, is today a land of mouse movers”. It’s never been a better time than the present, to be an empowered young Indian.

At the stroke of this midnight hour, let’s contribute our bit in putting India on Center Stage…..Chak De…..India….

Happy Independence day, everyone…..As British Airways acknowledges, “ For India, the world is waiting!!”….

Bangalore - I.T.'s great to be here...

2007-08-11T19:33:00.000+05:30

Well I have not blogged for quite some time, coz, I was asked to lie low by my CSO -Chief Security Officer(Gunda), saying that my life was being threatened by some disgruntled elements.

Gunda, my neighbor's dog was quite prompt in his barks,and though my neighbor is fed up of them, he does not have a choice.

Finally, here I am, disclosing my co-ordinates that I'm alive and kicking in the Silicon valley of India.. Well, it's actually strange, many of my ex-colleagues (I think you got the hint, yes, I am transitioning jobs) who have been based out of Bangalore used to regularly ask me about cool places to hang out at, and I would give the sheepish grin and say, "Oh, maybe you should try Veena Stores on Malleshwaram 15th Cross. Well that's where I went to when I studied in class X". And, then those colleagues would scorn at me with a look that best described Jhonny Lever's constipated one in KNPH.Actually, born in Bangalore, being in IT,and not working in bangalore? sounds weird ain't it?

Well, that also explains why I was looking around through the wide windowed Volvo bus, as wide eyed as a monkey in Mysore zoo, when I was witness to the various IT companies, their sprawling lawns, the big brands, even as the conductor rattled off the names of the companies with as much ease as Anil Kumble's Trent Bridge test century.

I kind of enjoyed being stuck in the Bangalore traffic. As they say, you are not a true Bangalorean unless you crib around about its traffic.

These Volvo buses run by the city transport corporation called BMTC(Bittre Maatra Tirugi Sikkolla - "You won't get (the buses) again if you let them go") are cool. With air conditioning, television streaming and FM channels in the background, the plush seating coupled with cell phone charging points that don't work,give the picture of modernity, flavored with the "Swalpa Adjust maadi" attitude. Like a foreign tourist who gets his feel of the city, I was getting a first hand running commentary from the co-passenger seated next to me.

I needed to get off at a stop that I had never alighted at before and hence asked him if he could let me know when it arrived. He acknowledged, and asked me, "Yaava Ooru?" (which city?). Not wanting to expose my ignorance of the city despite belonging to it, I replied, "Mysooru". With an exclamation that approved of my small town status, he started explaining to me, how Bangalore had changed, how IT companies had transformed the landscape sending prices sky high and of course he looked at a company and muttered to me.."Look this is where a friend of mine who earns a six figure salary works...".

I meekly nodded my head as my bus stop approached..The conductor shouted into the microphone and I passed by a live traffic feed visible on the driver's monitor.." Bangalore, I smiled to myself - I.T. 's great to be here...."

Images below - Inside the local volvo bus, and an innovative road safety sculpture - view taken when stuck in traffic on the dairy circle flyover....

Nanjangud (ನಂಜನಗೂಡು) - A Travelogue

2007-07-15T10:40:00.000+05:30

Nestled away from the bustling IT hub of Bangalore, and about 20 kms from the regal erstwhile kingdom of Mysore, is the temple town of Nanjangud.

The town in addition to its religious fervour, also plays host to a number of small scale industries including paper and sugar mills.

Situated on the banks of the river Kapila, Nanjangud literally translates to "the residing place of Lord Nanjundeshwara or Lord Shiva". Originally believed to have been built during the period of the Ganga dynasty (325-1000 CE), it has over the years received patronage from Haider Ali and Tippu Sultan(who referred to the deity as Hakim Nanjunda) and has come to be known as Dakshin Kashi (Kashi of the South) as well.

Having proximity to the famous Chamundi hills and the wildlife sanctuaries of Bandipur and Madumalai,of course not to forget the famous royal palace and the engineering miracle of the KRS resevoir, Nanjangud is a favourite of devotees and tourists alike. With the four-laning of State Highway 17 that connects Bengalooru to Mysore, getting here takes less than two and a half hours from the state capital.

Clubbing the visit to the temple with a family wedding was the best utilisation of time that could have been possible. The presiding deity is the griha devata (family God) of most Shaivites including sankethis, who came to reside in the surrounding villages, over the past several hundred years.

The visit happened Sunday, last, with the entire bandwagon of relatives hopping onto a tempo traveler, that pretty much did justice to the inviting stretch of road ahead of us. With one brief stop at Maddur Tiffany's to grab a quick bite of the famed Maddur vada (the lesser cousin of the ubiquotous Medu vada), we reached the temple at quarter to Eleven.

Being a Sunday, the population that had descended to the town was immense, and we managed to avail the tickets for the "special" darshan, which has now become a common place at all major religious establishments with the spread of capitalism.

Nonetheless, the devotional songs that filled the air, the common rush at the temple premises, the automated bells and drums for the Maha aarti, the state bank ATMs chequered across the town,the motley shops that stacked up orange flavored concotions in Limca bottles, the universal temple elepahnts, the narrow bylanes, with some evidence of a rail guage conversion, all presented the picture of a town that depite being deep rooted in tradition was trying to catch up with the progress the surrounding cities had achieved.

Even as the driver Chandru tried to avoid a biological speed breaker (yes, cows do move as per their free will), I was brought out of my reverie, as we headed to the land of the Wodeyars, the royal state of Mysore, that for long has stood as a force that gave the British Imperialists a run for their money.

Some images of Nanjangud, below... A day in the life of India...

@Home

2007-07-10T08:06:00.000+05:30

Apologies for not having blogged for quite sometime now. Life's been a little more than a roller coaster ride, with my status of existence oscillating over the last few weeks like the crests and troughs of a perfect sine wave.

Nonetheless, the primary point is that I am right now seated in the comfortable environs of "home" in the truest sense of the word, after a long gap of 8 months.

Yes, please go ahead. Join Ma and bring out the "Oh My God !! you have been away and have not visited home for 8 months, do you even remember the way back?" phrases that I have been listening to already. Well, Delhi and Bangalore are not sister cities that I could do a "hop-skip-jump" antic and land on my comfy sofa watching TV (that's my prized possession and noone messes with me over that other than my lovable grannies), munching on hot pakodas flavored with Maa ki Mamta...all portraying the picture of filmy Utopia that one longs to experience.

Eventually, this weekend, I was in Bengalooru, enroute to Mysore for a cousin's wedding. Rising air fares, courtesy the recent consolidation in the aviation industry has made me to choose from the best of the worst available. Jet Airways, for whatever it's worth, burnt a meteor hole through my pocket. And a salary so low that it prevents me from even doing window shopping, has made matters worse.

The last couple of days have been quite hectic owing to the usual din and pomp associated with every Indian wedding. But on the sidelines of the wedding, I have realised that coming back to a place of your own, one that you've evolved with, brings back the feeling of nostalgia. One realises that the smallest of things that were once taken for granted tend to be more valued when one gets back to them.

The call of the local sabzi wallah, The kids playing on the street who time and again annoy dad by breaking window panes, The neighbors' courteous enquiry,the "Mungaru Male" song that plays in the local barber shop, the fragrance of the "Mallige" flowers that adorn the verandah, the vibrations emnating from Ma's 5 a.m. prayers, M.S. Subbulaxmi's melody that flows from the 1998 BPL player,all this and more, have made me realise that God lies in the details.

It's a good feeling to be back home, a feeling of peace and quiete, a feeling that people acknowledge your existence, and more importantly, the feeling of authority that one can probably exercise in one's backyard, more than anywhere else.

Touching down at Bangalore has never felt so great as this, after a long sojourn at New Delhi. And even as the rest of the Duniya goes "Oot Patanga", right from Pratibha Patil's Presidential credentials to the Taj being voted into the 7 wonders of the world, I am blissfully resting on dad's couch, digging into a new book that I picked up on Saturday titled "Jalebi Management". More on the book and a review of the same later...

Till then, home is where the heart is.....*Yawn*

Who dunnit?

2007-06-12T14:14:00.000+05:30

Having survived for almost 3 long years in the IT industry, (yes, 3 years in IT is equivalent to 30 in BHEL), I must say that the Indian IT industry has transformed itself with as much variety as Paresh Rawal's roles in Bollywood.

I am planning to write a comprehensive blog post on the "IT Survival Tool Kit" commemorating my third anniversay in the industry which is due shortly.

You may be pleased to know that Aaj Tak has already bought rights to screen the entire celebration "live" from my 2x2 cubicle that more resembles a packed sardine tin can.

There are some aspects that do not change irrespective of the organisation that you are in including white collared bonded labor, highly exoctic canteen food that is often cribbed about, overhyped "mission critical" coders who are held in high regard next to Spiderman in the context of saving the day, and but of course the insatiable paychecks that are always just enough to cater to 30 days of living.

Of late, in fact, just yesterday, I learnt the Golden rule for IT survival - English Grammar. Yes, kudos to Wren and Martin for all those tongue twisting grammar tenses and whimsical grammar rules that end up confusing even the Queen of England at times..

Ah! Coming back to the Golden rule. Just as "Har snack namkeen nahin hota", this rule with the twist is the best IT can get.

POSTULATE :

Never use the first person prepositions "I", "We", "Me", "us", "Myself" etc.... in any conversation that has to deal with the obituary of a project that you are part of.

PM: "Team, the client is furious. The project is running 6 months behind schedule. Who is responsible?"
TM 1: " They gave us the code for testing a month after is was due"
TM 2: " They gave us the specs. that were revised as frequently as a baby's diapers"
TM 3: " They told us that the functionality should remain as they desired"
TL : " They were not only told about the project plan by them, but they ended up changing it mid way too"
Quality: " They prepared the plan based on the estimate they provided"
Onsite Co-ordinator: " They messed it up"
PM,(facing the customer): "They were not given the test cases that suited their reqirement. But they are doing their best to do their tasks right,they will work 16 hrs a day and they will work on weekends, free of cost, though they are not a party to this task that was completed by them"
Customer: Who are "they"?
Everyone: SILENCE.
Customer: Let "them" perform a root cause analysis before "they" continue with "their" project. And let "them" be paid for fixing "their" folly that resulted in "their" mess in "this" project

Welcome to the Land of Mouse movers, Just do IT!! Hey Ganpat! Java la....

At Crossroads....

2007-06-07T12:16:00.000+05:30

To realize how important,the details could be
That these details test the substance in me
I need decisions that need to stand the test of time
Also assist me in drawing the crucial lifeline

I was always told that decisions are never easy to take
Specially when it impacts an individual being's state
The future the wise men say remains a mystery,
But it also hinges on the book of history.

I am what I am, I achieve as much as I perceive,
But the heart is not content with the gifts I receive,
Natural for a being to want more than he can digest
Few are men who stand apart and dare to resist

As i stare at the crossroad ahead of me
With thoughts flowing in perennially
Each bringing with it a new found insight
With the balance swaying either side

And as I gear up to make my decision right,
One thing I know is to not regret in hindsight,
I move with the hope of success and that things would be fine
That the inconsequence of consequence lies in the eventuality of time!!

A Date with Uncle Sam!!

2007-05-12T20:23:00.000+05:30

Not very often would you find me waking up at 5:45 a.m. unless of course my neighbor plays Himesh Reshmiya’s constipated songs in full volume as against the melody of M.S. Subbulaxmi's Suprabhatam. A beautiful morning it was. The 10th of May –The penultimate day marking the 150 years of the First war of Indian Independence-the uprising against the Raj. And what could be more ironic than me making my way through the canopied wide roads of New Delhi, enroute to the US Embassy located at Shantipath, Chanakyapuri.

I reached there well in time before the “scheduled” appointment, only to find people who had been camping there through the entire night, I presume. They had settled themselves on the sprawling lawns a few hundred meters away from the Embassy compound, even as sparrows and mynahs pecked away beside them in their search for the ubiquitous morning breakfast.

It was quite a scene, and studying the myriad people who had descended upon the “Mecca” of visa dispensing nations brought me immense joy.

“Kya yeh queue Business Visa key liye hai?” I enquired with a young lad (yes, much younger than me, so I could definitely call him young!), who was sporting a Fidel Castro tee shirt and blue denims, to which he replied “ Thore is ohnly ohne loine dyude! And Oi don’t thoink it moikes a deffence” in a typical US accent. It was almost as if the “desi dyude” had been sent to a Rapidex American English Speaking course for a complete make over. The only thing they did probably forget to tell him was how well the Yankees liked Fidel Castro!!

After a second word of confirmation from the security guard who acted with the audacity that even the President of the USA did not deserve, I walked to join the drove of already queued up people, the scene resembling the punishment I often received in school for not having completed Math homework from Mrs. Rajamma.

The whole of India had been represented within the 45 minute time window that I stood outside waiting for my application to be screened at the entry point. I tucked, re-tucked my shirt , adjusted the belt that kept my trousers from falling, and combed my hair atleast a zillion times, till my head resembled well-ploughed land ready to be embedded with seeds to yield a bumper crop.

Just then, 5 brethren from Punjab broke the queue and joined those of us who were already lined up. Welcome to India, I said to myself but no one had the temerity to confront them, for each of them in their uniform blue headgear and white attire stood 7 feet tall even as the khanjars dangled around their chest. I was curious to know how they would clear the security check, though.

An old Bengali couple was turned away owing to the fact that they had arrived 5 hours before their scheduled appointment.

As I glanced up to catch a glimpse of the stars and stripes U.S. national flag fluttering inside the Embassy compound, an auto rickshaw apparently carrying three Tibetan passengers on a sight seeing trip signaled to them about the important and most sought after landmark, just as he sped away lest he be towed for violating parking rules.

Finally having reached the security check, the Guard carried out his routine tasks. In between, he shouted out to one of the earlier applicants and said “ Bhai saab aapka passport idhar hi rehgaya!”. As the absent minded Chironji Lal (of Khosla ka Ghosla fame) returned to collect the same, the guard quipped ”Sir, wahan aisa nahin chalega, ab toh aap amreeka jaane wale hai!”, in typical Asif Iqbal (the visa agent) ishtyle, which aroused laughter all around.

The dedicated queue for B1 visas also had representation from all companies including Iyer and Iyengar Software Limited, Chennai. The lady in front of me and the guy behind me were actually a married couple who worked for the same IT company. The Embassy staffers sent out a couple of guys to advise people on the order of arranging the documents. The lady in front submitted hers. The guy asked, “your full name?” – The lady replied “ Padmavati Guntupally”. And what about that before marriage? “Padmavati Baganpally” she replied. “Please mention the same in Box 10 ", he said.The guy behind me was “ Adikesavulu Ramanatha Krishna Srinivas Guntupally”. I am sure he would have run out of space while filling his full name.

The queue progressed at a snail’s pace even as an entire family from Bhatinda comprising of Chunnu,Munnu,Sonu and their Mummy Paapa, made their way though the pathway. Quite a few newly wed ladies (recognizable from the stack of red bangles that adorned their arms) waited, presumably to procure a dependant visa to join their hubbies in the US.

Eventually, I did manage to enter the embassy premises which was as heavily guarded as the Red Fort on August 15th. One person was stopped by the security as he was carrying hair spray and deodorant and was let off only after he sprayed the same on his hand and inhaled it. It was as comic as a drunken driver being asked to walk the yellow line, by the cops.

The queue that resembled the one in the sanctum of the Tirupathi Balaji temple,had one lady who reverently prayed to the heavens and closed her eyes, just before she entered the holy shrine of “Visa disbursement”.

After handing over my finger prints akin to the prisoner identification procedure, I was lined up for the interview window. Not all Americans are cheesy. Atleast not this one. He infact had a cheerful demeanor and quite a sense of humor. Just as he finished with a guy in front of me, he remarked, “Have a good day, Mr. De”. After a few routine questions he positively acknowledged my visa approval.

I walked out even as I eyed the cookies, doughnuts, and Pringles that were stacked up for refreshments in the totally Americanised setting quite polarized from the ground reality of New Delhi.

The interesting thing about the routine was that it was for the first time that I saw over 99% of the people being new to the entire process unlike those while visiting a place of worship or paying the electricity bill. And to top it all, every person was as clueless as the person next to him/her.

And all of those who had their visas stamped, exited with the song that best described the mood of the moment – “O Hansini, kahan ud chali, mere armaanoke pankh ladake…..”

- Truly, A day in the life of India!!

Want to be or "Wanna be" ?

2007-05-04T20:13:00.000+05:30

After Richard Gere got grounded by the desi moral police for "explicit obscenity" which made him believe Delhi was a suburb of Kabul, and Mandira got noticed more for her unpatriotic saree than her cricket commentary skills (which generally equals Rakhi Sawant's IQ), I have been the latest victim of fundamentalist fascist individuals for what they perceive of my blog posts. This has prompted me to utilize the services of Ramu, the friendly neighborhood canine, as my Chief Security Officer. He has a bark so ferocious to keep the muscle trio of Sunny Deol, Sallu Bhai and John Abraham away.

My Mom always believed I did not have the guts to protest even when the class bully in elementary school poached my lollipop in broad daylight. Neither have I had it in me the wish to threaten a mind as demented as Arjun Singh's. I was almost about to be nominated for the Nobel prize for harmlessness just when they felt that Radha, the cow was a better deserving candidate.

So, desh waasiyon, I look up to the skies and wonder what would make someone accuse a seedha saadha guy of trying to be a "wanna be", through my blogs. May be like one of those Re-incarnation movies I might have stolen mangoes from my neighbor's orchard in my previous birth to demonstrate my superiority over the Ten Headed Ravana, but I would not do anything more bizarre or outrageous than that, in the process of trying to get into the limelight.

Coming to think of it, I do though believe that every chalta phirta biological specimen is entitled to an opinion of his/her own, and has a right to express what he/she thinks of issues ranging from the Abhi-Ash wedding to the Dumping of plastic waste in the drain next to my office. But to categorically type cast and brand me the way that I've explained before would be condemned even by the Government of India as "Baahari-haath-ki-saadish".

But yes, please go ahead and do be critical of my writing if you really feel it is better to watch Arindam Choudhry's - Sunny Deol starrer "Rok-Sako-toh-Roklo" than reading the Hinglish of these posts.

And yes, a statement of clarification - " Just as my name (Asmyaham) signifies, I just want to be and am not a wannabe".

Cheers! I have a couple of more blog posts ready to be uploaded over the weekend...

10 ways to do the jig in an Indian Wedding.

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

For the uninitiated (including yours truly), dancing as a skill might be as difficult to invoke as for a non swimmer drowning in the shallow side of the pool. But this time around, I made this brave attempt to take to the dance floor as part of a Punjabi wedding to hone my skills in the art of bodily movements. Documented from these experiences are the best practices of learning the art.

Note: The author is not responsible for any physical harm that could be caused to the reader on account of the tips outlined below. Adults are advised not to try them on their own and to carry out the steps under strict supervision from teenagers :)

Tip 1: “Sunlo, Sunlo…..”

Listen to you favourite FM station for just one hour a day.(preferably 8 p.m. to 9 p.m.) as you wade through the peak hour traffic. Knowing the latest chart busters helps coz it’s very unlikely that the DJ of 2007 would be playing a Senti Amar Prem number. Not to worry in case you missed a couple of songs owing to cell phone distractions. Just flip to the next station which would more often than not feature the same song at a different slot in ordering.

Tip 2: “Light is Right”

Wear light clothes. It can be tough (specially for beer drinkers) if you have a blazer, a tie and formal shoes while dancing, lest you want to miss out on a cool and hip dance step that needs you to do a 270 degree twist.

Tip 3: “Theme action co-relation”

Try and match the theme of the song with actions using your hands/feet. For example, if the theme is “barsaat” then signal the falling rain with your hands in the most emotive manner. In case the song to follow talks about “sardi”, motion inwards with your jacket as if you are in the process of wearing one (This one was an original from yours truly that was quite acknowledged by fellow hip shakers. Ok, yes! I did take a bow for that…)

Tip 4: “The Evergreen steps”

There are some dance steps that are as theme agnostic yet nice as the mishti doi in every Bengali home.

For example, any fast paced number could do with the step of balle balle that you see in every bhangra song. For those who watch bhangra as frequently as Virender Sehwag’s century, try this – “ The Let’s go party tonight” step by Priety and Abhi where everyone jumps in the air and actions “Out ! Out” like any cricket umpire would. Do it once with your left hand and once more with your right.

Even after this, In case your dance gyan is as low as my IQ, try the time tested clichéd one – “ try fixing the light bulb with one hand and patting your pet dog with the other”. Make sure there is no stray doggie around or you’d never be able to pat one again

Tip 5: The “Junglee” survival kit

Warning: This only works for tough numbers and may not work if the song is quite easy to perform. Wave your hands vigorously as if you are shaking off chewing gum stuck to your thumb and match it with your hair/head turning with equal speed till you see the world upside down. By then you ought to realize it’s time to stop.

Tip 6: Ragging in college

Not that I am a proponent of the activity (so don’t plan to sue me either), but after having been through some sessions, this was where I “burnt” a make shift dance floor with my outrageous steps which matched the Indian batsmen trying to evade the bouncers from the Bangladeshi Bowlers. The rest they say is history and I did not get selected for the college dance team. I had enough reasons to believe that the selection committee was biased against me

Tip 7 : Powered by Cltr C and Driven by Cltr V

Non-computer users please excuse. This is the “mantra” on which the Indian IT industry survives. If you can’t create a step, plagiarize one. Look at the most happening gal/guy in the circle and give a nod confirming that it’s a good step and what else? Start churning out the same

Tip 8 : E-learning courses

Enrol yourself into the “Doing the jig in 8 days” course which I am going to begin soon. E-learning has been the innovation of this millennium and the three top courses on my agenda would include swimming, driving and now of course, dancing version 1.0 for all novices who wish to learn the same through the internet

Tip 9: Traffic Lines

Try crossing traffic median during peak hour on an arterial road. One step back and one step front.. As you target survival, you will also learn your steps along the way.

Tip 10: The “Daru” effect.

Please be advised that I have not tried this myself and do not claim this to be a potent tool.

I am “told” (re-emphasizing this one) that two swigs of the most sought after beverage after water, can considerably improve your skills by freeing your locomotory body parts and give you a dose of the prabhu deva flexibility.

But there have been cases where hic! “dancers” have been hic!“grounded” for hic!“flying” in the air for hic! too long, so you would not want to hic!“land” in a similar situation.

A final take from my side, at the end of all this - Pick three random tips and rehearse them with a dose of Iodex or Moov in tune with the age old saying, “Prevention is better than cure”.

Till then, “Everybody on the Dance floor!!!!!!!!!”

TWTW - The World This Week!

2007-03-09T14:55:00.000+05:30

Days are passing by with the velocity of “Street Hawk”, and sitting in 3x3 cubicles under artificial lighting does no good to your cause with regard to catching up with the news in any way. But, with the power of “connectivity” driving everything around the world, even my doodh wala has an email id and talks about leveraging youtube and google for online advertising.

A lot many things have changed the order of the world since I last blogged.

As part of the “socializing” etiquette I donned the attire of a chalti phirti Rangoli for a day on account of “Holi” celebrations, and I was morphed to such an extent that folks at my colony conducted a DNA test before they let me in

Liz Hurly and Arun Nayar showcasing their wedding in true desi ishtyle was the highlight of the week though. The fact that amused me the most was “Sir” Elton John lauding Liz on finding the right man after initial mistakes (obviously Hugh Grant) with credentials that best suit Michael Jackson’s commentary on Carnatic music.

The guests included Liz's son, whose father is claimed to be a producer who was associated with her in addition to Matthew Perry (Chandler Bing of “Friends”) and Hugh Grant, in her previous relationships. All the best to Mr. Nayar to ensure that the wedding does not end up like another Gurinder Chadda film which gets over even before you finish your pop corn.

The Big Bad budget caught everyone unawares with “Mr. White” Chidambaram proclaiming a conservative budget , targeting to only please the Cotton sellers of Coimbatore to ensure that his daily supply of dhotis remains unhindered.

In another piece of news, Sunita Williams (no she’s not the “separated at birth” sibling of the Williams sisters) is missing samosas in outer space. Spotting this lucrative opportunity, Babu Chettan Chai kada (chain of authentic chai samosas imported from the gelf) has decided to go global, rather go universal and set up a floating tea shop in space.

Meanwhile the world cup fever is catching up with everyone, and news items like “Indians begin with courage and self confidence” flash across the media even as the Indians structuring their innings reflect a strategy as strong as that of the American Cricket team.(yes the yankees do have a team, most of which is constituted by expats)

There is a galore of offers everywhere. The other day I stopped over at the local Pan wallah who offered me a free supari as a promotional scheme. My grocer has a lucky dip offer for anyone who buys 10kg of provisions in a day, and the winner gets a trip to West Indies. But the asterix below the promotion pamphlet reads “ The trip is ex- Mumbai, with West Indies being the first village at the Maharashtra - Gujarat border and the mode of transport - Chacha Choudhury’s bus service”.

Hritik Roshan had to pay dearly for his inquisitiveness when he was simultaneously modeling for Tata Sky and Chloromint. His question of “Where you going Paape?” elicited a tight slap from the “ghaas ki dukaan” who said “Dobara mat poochna!”

No matter what I do, I cannot but help but turn my attention towards snippets on the world cup, right from my insurance agent to my doctor. Maybe that needs an exclusive post covering the live action from the Carribean!

Till then, “Let’s play for India !!”

The Weekend Spectator

2007-02-27T14:34:00.000+05:30

Lot of things happening on a busy weekend.

Try as I might, the 8:30 a.m. alarm fails to separate me and Sameera Reddy (voted as the fittest actress in Bollywood), who is hell bent on acting with me in her next movie called “Maanav bana Daanav” where I am supposed to be the protagonist.

It became a lot tougher this weekend, when the only source of “awakening” was the doorbell which I think played all the nursery rhymes from “jack and Jill” to “ Three blind mice” before the battery ran out.

Dreamy eyed, and still chased by Sameera, I managed to peep out of the door with my disheveled looks only to find a stranger, who looked as tough as Mike Tyson, which made me realize I had not made my credit card payment on the due date.

Luckily, he happened to be one of the residents of the colony and had come to cordially invite some “senior” member of the house to attend the General Body Meeting to discuss issues of grass root level importance.

Since I did not have anything better to do other than watching “Ramgarh ka Sholay” on “FILMY”, which comprised of look alikes of popular actors, rendering a different touch to the original movie, I decided to have a first hand impression of what happens in a GBM.

After scouting around as to where the health center existed in the township where I stay ( that was where the meeting was scheduled and I had never been to the “health” center before), I gingerly entered the hall which more resembled an improved version of a local panchayat. The elderly formed the core group with all uncles forming the second rung of defence. A Lot of issues ranged, prime among which were the following:

• A concrete plan on celebrating Holi
• Annulling the extra membership fee of Rs 200 for using the health center
• A core committee to conduct free and fair elections for posts within the Association
• A beautifully worded ”Angreji” letter on action against the present management member Mr. “U” for having misbehaved with the ladies (don’t let imaginations run wild : Mr. U had apparently put up his hands when a “lady” had requested him to carry 20 kilos of her vegetables home).
• A point on bringing the Ganga river water into all our households

The last point was something we could do without, if we did not want our final immersion to happen immediately in the same water.

However, the uncles around this place are a little hot headed and some “almost old losing all hair” uncle took what the “rimmed glasses but all grey hair” uncle’s comments on the working of the local body, as a personal remark.

Though most exchanges happened in chaste Hindi,( not my type which aligns itself to the Mumbaiyya ishtyle), but nonetheless it was much fun.

Eventually, most issues were resolved and the “health center” was thrown open to all till such a time the management reverts on the membership fee.

People like me have accepted this offer with glee, since I first need to know if my current Olive Oyle structure can be changed to match that of Arnold Shivajinagar (whatever that dude’s name is :p) before I actually start paying for something that may be beyond reach.Meanwhile I have been re-united with a game that has graduated from me playing the same with tumblers and ladles as nets on the dining table to a standard Table Tennis court.

Bikes and Sports run deep as passions for most “bachelors” I am told.*wink*

And while I explore what faciltities the health center has in store, separating me from Sameera Reddy should probably become much easier now!

To be, or not to be! - Version One dot Oh!

2007-02-11T22:31:00.000+05:30

I could well have cltr C’ed and cltr V’ed the previous post into this one but for the fact that the airline this time around was Kingfisher and the dates were two weeks post the last trip. But yes, I am back in Mumbai on work in less than a fortnight and that’s a surprise to me as well, since my last consecutive visits to this city spanned an interval of a good four years.

I am not complaining, and Bombay, if I may call it, has always remained special since I spent my childhood here.

This visit got with it the chance to catch up with good old DK from school whose comments you generally find peppered around the blog. It had been a long 7.5 years and I was as eager to meet him as Ganguly was to get his first 50 post his cricket “vanvas”.

DK mentioned about VB who was acting in a play[more on that later in the post] and what more than a city like Mumbai and a comedy play, for three school friends to meet up and discuss how the world has transformed while they got busy with their chosen paths in life.

Me and DK planned to meet up for this play titled “When the pythons followed the actors” - an adaptation of a plot by the British Comedy troupe “Monty Python”. Staged at Rang Sharada Auditorium in Bandra (W), the play promised to be a nice refresher but the prime motivation to watch the play was that VB happened to be part of the production. Also, it was about time I caught up with the stage world for two main reasons - The last live play I watched was “Snow White and the seven dwarfs” when I was a toddler in class 1 and being a stage artist myself, theatre was something I always longed to witness.

I managed to wade through the snail paced Mumbai traffic in an auto rickshaw that moved as fast as a file in a government department and eventually completed the journey in slightly less than an hour. DK as usual was delayed and reached after I did. 7.5 years had made him heftier, meaner and boy, has he done away with those giant sized spectacles. The tickets were picked up by DK which included one for another colleague of his and he modestly declined re-imbursement considering the fact that he works for an MNC which encourages employees treating school buddies from other cities. I however made it clear I would not be available in Delhi the next time DK comes visiting. The least I could do was sponsor tea for the three of us and we suddenly realized we were sipping away at tea costing 20 bucks for 100 ml. like aristocratic princes of the British Raj.

The main plot of the play revolved around a stage artist who has the worst nightmare of his lifetime in that he has forgotten his lines right when the play is supposed to begin and is looking for cues from all possible sources to salvage the situation.

The sets best describe the way our protagonist is transported from one play to another almost like a striker across the carom board, and while the rest of his troupe know what exactly his role play is, he seems to suffer from amnesia.

The dialogues well reflect the mood of the moment, with most of the setting in erstwhile medieval Europe, and London being the frame of reference. The choice of characters is quite good and the fresh blood does bring in the much required agility which many scenes demand. The accents range from the stiff upper lipped Queen’s language to the typical French English with the Zi fer zhevry senor. The hero maintains a neutral English accent akin to “Ali” of Pakistani origin in the famed series “Mind your Language”.

The team which calls themselves Version One dot Oh! has its roots in Bangalore and is a mix of about 10 actors spanning the software industry, students and a couple of full time professionals.

I shall not dwell into the specifics of the plot lest I contribute to the lack of audience for their next performance. They may not have conformed to all the rules of “Bharat Muni’s ” “Natya Shastra” [Bharat Muni was the father of traditional Sanskrit Dramas and had laid down stage rules] but, for a group that is just three years young and performs to packed audiences in Bangalore, which also doubles up as one of the prime fund contributors to a local NGO, this was quite a remarkable effort.

Good show guys. Keep it up.

A couple of pics of the team, plus the three musketeers in front of the audi.

Up, Up and Away

2007-02-03T14:01:00.000+05:30

It’s Four forty A.M. by my watch on the second most significant day in the context of India’s existence – Republic Day! And what could be better than sitting at the airport of the National Capital, awaiting the rest of the nation to awaken to the celebrations that would begin in a couple of hours from now.

26th January, atleast for the last two years has meant me being at the IIT Madras for their annual cultural festival, SAARANG. But today, after just two hours of sleep, I await in the lobby of “Indian” (formerly Indian Airlines), even as patriotic songs reverberate on the mounted television screens around me. It’s kind of a co-incidence that I would be flying the official national carrier after almost ten years ( and no, neither am I a privileged club class member, nor do I hold an exclusive frequent flier pass), but yes, in the era of the Kingfisher and other premium airlines, INDIAN does face challenges in innovative branding.

The lady at the baggage check in counter seems to be in her late 40’s with a smile that best suits the one Inzamam-ul-Haq has when Shoaib Akhtar is walloped by Sehwag. She examines the ticket with the least of interest even as a co-worker interrupts her frequently seeking clarifications. It’s almost as if the lady has been in the system for so long that she knows all procedures by rote. Her identity card is so worn out that it resembles my grandmom’s ration card rather than an employee ID. Talk about long lasting durability.

Not very excited about her expected response, I still ask her, “ Kya aap mujhe ek window seat de sak te hai?” She looks up to me like “ Kid! You are not going on an amusement ride. And nothing’s visible other than the clouds, and for GOD's sake, it’s INDIAN, which may not even fly. So how does it matter?” All this, even as smartly attired personnel of other airlines whizzed around with the much desired enthusiasm.

The scene around me is pretty lazy. A middle aged “ Gentleman” has just taken off his shoes and has made himself comfortable on the seats, a couple of foreigners are curiously looking at the pigeons (the winged birds with a disturbed body clock thanks to the bright lights) flying over them in the lounge, and it’s almost day break but chilly winds are making their way through the wide doors that have just been thrown open to passengers of another airline that is due to fly shortly.

Yawns interrupt my otherwise peaceful existence and like a sleep deficient Vietnamese solider, my fingers have almost been mechanically programmed to type away at the laptop.

Time to catch some news folks. They’ve just loaded the complimentary newspaper stand and there’s already a beeline to grab the freebie. Lemme join the bandwagon too.

Can’t wait to be pampered by the “motherly” treatment of the air hostesses of the Indian flight like one of those Mother's Recepie advertisement . After all, Mother India is calling!

More on Mumbai , the city which never sleeps, once I reach there!

Ash Karley !!

2007-01-22T12:40:00.000+05:30

Okie. I know that! You don’t need to rub it in. My mom always considered me a slow learner, which explains why I begin my lunch when The Indian team begins their innings and continues till Sreeshant is done with his on-the-field break dance. This is also why I could never differentiate between a break dance and a disco dance apart from the fact that Michael Jackson and Mithun da were exponents of the same in that order.

I have been slow in putting up this blog on the much awaited “talk of Bollywood”! But after a bumpy and hectic week at work, am finally blogging about this “Hot” topic akin to the late arrival of the Hindi movie Police. Thankfully am also not so late in the cycle else I may have had to write about Manoj Kumar’s Mother India, so I guess it’s fine.

Now, back to the point. Open any management text book and you will find a dedicated chapter on mergers and acquisitions. ( My gyan on management is limited to my roomie who happens to be in Human Capital Management, otherwise referred to as “HR” in most organizations). There have always been M&As in Bollywood – the most famous being Rishi Kapoor and Neetu Singh, AK and TK (Akshay and Twinkle) , the legendary AB and JB ( go drown yourself if you could not get this expansion), Anil and Sridevi (Dewar- Bhabhi relationship :( ) and the latest being Ash and Little B. After having been scorned by KK ( K Kapoor) for being a flop actor, Little B has grown by leaps and bounds to fit into the shoes of Big B. But now, after the latest merger in the greater good of Bollywood, Little B to Aish karenge. *wink*

Media sensationalism is at an all time high and the entire Page 15 of the TOI was dedicated to this “happy” news in Bollywood. News snippets ranged from the Ash’s Lehenga, to the number of sarees purchased, the prices of the same, and most importantly the muhurat of the wedding. Ash’s father in law (guess who) was quoted saying “ The children have decided, and I am happy”. But, in one corner of the page, a small 4 cm x 4 cm frame also spoke of the alarming levels of pollution in the Ganges of Allahabad, with due focus on Environmental responsibility.

I switched on the T.V. only to find one news channel proclaim – “Breaking News”.

Studio: Swati, ab aap kahan pe hai?
Reporter: Sumit, hum yahan Khandala ke jungle mein hai.

Studio: Lekin aap ko Toronto mein ya Big B ke ghar ke paas rehna chahiye
Reporter: Haan Sumit, lekin hum is waqt us jagah pe hai jahan maana jaata hai ki Little B Ash sey pehli baar miley they.

Studio: This is breaking news! Again, hum aap ke liye laa rahe hein exclusive pictures khandala ke jungle sey. Swati, aur kuch khabar wahan sey?
Reporter: Chaliye baat kartey hai Sukhi Ram sey, jo yahan ke kheto mein kaam kartey hai. 80 baras ke Sukhi Ram, ek who lauta shaks hai jinhone Little B aurAsh ko ek saath dekha tha. Sukhi Ram aap ko is waqt kaisa lag raha hai?

Sukhi Ram: Humko kaunu pata naahin. Hum apney hal chalarahey they, ee sab kuch ho gaya. Humka maaf kardo sarkaar!

Reporter: Sukhi Ram daro mat! Puri duniya aap ko is waqt dekh sakti hai. Kya aap ney Abhishek aur Aishwarya ko saath dekha tha ya nahin?
Sukhi Ram: Humka chchod do sarkar. Hum sarpanch ji ko keh diya hoon, paanch saal purani baton ko kyon phir se daura rahe hain?
Reporter: This is breaking news. Is ka matlab, yeh sab kuch 5 saal se chal raha hai. Sumit I cannot believe this! Hindustan ko yeh jaan ne ka haq tha is ke baren mein lekin Sarpanch ne mana kiya tha Sukhi Ram ko. Hum isko yahin pe nahin choddenge.

Studio: Is waqt humarey saath hai Jyotshi Shri Batuk Maharaj, jo batayenge ki yeh baat duniya se ab tak gupt kyon rahi?
Maharaj: Shani ki drishti vakr hone sey shayaad yeh bat dab gayi ho parantu yeh var aur kanya ke liye bahut achchi baat hai

Sukhi Ram (breaking down): Theek hai Memsaab! Hum apna galti maan letey hoon. 5 saal pehley Kishan Ram key bhaise – Abhishek aur Aishwarya ko mein chala raha tha. Ek din bin bataye bhaise chal padi. Is mein humra kaunu galti nahin hai mem sahib!
Reporter: Sumit, itni badi baat police se chupayi gayi, is ke liye hum media key taraf se Sukhi Ram ke khilaf muqudma karayenge! Kishan Ram ko insaaf milke rahega!

Studio: Darshakon se request hai ki woh kahin na jaaye, kuch hi pal mein haazir honge, ek special programme ke saath - Kissa Kishan Ram ke Bhaiso ka – Aakhir kahan gaye Abhishek aur Aishwarya?

Welcome to the land where Nithari has become a tourist attraction,
It happens only in India!!

Tribute to Thiyagaraja!

2007-01-08T13:01:00.000+05:30

When was the last time you actually listened to the Sapta Swara? (Sa Re Ga Ma Pa Da Ni) Must have been ages, right?

Growing up for me, has been associated with learning Classical Carnatic Music for 5 years, and like Calvin Arnold’s Wonder years, my voice broke just before my classical vocal examination and hence did not take up the same.

Be it the varnas, geetas, or the kirtanas ( For those of you who thought they were names of my girlfriends, go shoot yourself! They are components of great music), the perfection in the rhythm and the beauty in the music is a class apart vis-à-vis the gen X music which goes Oot Patanga and Dhink Chak Dhink Chak.

As an indication of the current times, people forget that MG Road is an abbreviation for Mahatma Gandhi, R.T. for Rabindranath Tagore, and T. Nagar in Chennai, for Thiyagaraja Nagar.

Getting back to the topic of Classical music, today is the anniversary of the Great Shri Thiyagaraja, who, enriched this art of music with his compositions that have enthralled the patrons of all time. So much was his contribution to music, that he is in fact considered as the Father of Classical Carnatic music.

The Thiayagaraja Aaradhana - an event, which is organized for 6 days on the banks of the river Kaveri in the city of Thanjavoor of Tamil Nadu, every year, draws practicing and accomplished musicians, and even relishing listeners, by the thousands from all over the world, and is a treat for all those who cherish the plurality of indigenous Indian music.

Renowned musicians like Kunnakudi Vaidyanathan (Violin maestro) and Kadri Gopalakrishna (exponent of saxophone) grace the occasion where all the Pancha Ratna Kirtanas composed by Shri Thiyagaraja are recited with a symphony of percussion instruments.

Doordarshan is probably one of the last channels that you would switch on, in this era of bouquet channels and soap operas, but this morning, Doordarshan did the wonderful task of broadcasting the one hour program live from the venue.

The involvement of individuals is immense. Their flair for music, the gesticulations of the taala, the swaying of the vocal chords to conform to the raagaa, the dignified and purified look on the participating men folk clad in veshti and dhoti, and the silk sareed ladies bestowing the grace associated with the Indian women, all this coupled with music descending from the heavens, formed a perfect combination of a concert that is equal to, if not greater than the Mozzarts and the Beethovens of the world, live in action, even while some westerners present at the occasion, captured these rich images to take back to their native lands.

But, yes, to identify with all this, being a connoisseur of music is a pre-requisite. And the problem with Indian music is that it is not branded and marketed well enough to suit the liking of the younger generation, apart from a few high profile singers with a couple of big banner advertising. A R Rehman and Illiyaraja, who are the Birbal and Tenali Raman of the south indian music industry, equally talented and skilled in their art, have to a certain extent tried to bridge the gap and have drawn the masses to Indian fusion music.

But nonetheless, the rich culture of this abundantly blessed nation still needs preservation, so as to transfer it to the generations that follow.

So, next time you purchase a 1500 couple entry ticket to a Boyzone or a Metallica live in concert, do spare a few thoughts for these immensely gifted musicians back home who enthrall you for “free” at community centers on various occasions. After all, we donot need everything to be certified and authorized by the west, even though it is our own, before we adopt the same!

In the words of the great musician, Sri Thiayagaraja, “ Entharo Mahanubhavulu, antharikku vandanammu” ( To all the noble people of this land, please accept my salutations)….

India’s calling.. Where are you?

Pic: The great Shri Thiyagaraja

Some internet based images of the Thiyagaraja Aaradhana.

Sarojini Market - Tips on purchasing and more...

2006-12-31T21:44:00.000+05:30

Sarojini Nagar – One of the most inseparable places of the city of Delhi,whether you are looking to pick up hair pins, key chains, designer outfits or a bottle of Himesh Reshmiya’s nasal spray – you get everything under one roof.

And the market had the honor of playing host to none other than yours truly, who could find nothing more interesting to do on a Sunday afternoon than accompanying mom who is vacationing in Delhi,to select various paraphernalia from dress materials to ear rings for Laloo’s latest kid, which could well go into making of the next Mission Impossible sequel.

Jokes apart, it took quite some time for us to reach the place owing to the new year traffic, much akin to the airtel network congestion that happens well before midnight.

As we entered the market, a mob of hawkers descended and it dawned on us to don the DON looks so as to evade the paparazzi. A relatively peaceful lane awaited us, with fragrance of “dhoop” emanating from the motley shops that filled up the street, (though they failed to keep the flies away) while cries of “Sau ka doh, Sau ka doh” reverberated in the background. Amidst all this, a bicycle rider whizzed past us, like the artiste in the Royal Russian Circus. As we approached a junction, 2.5 centimeters wider than the lane that we were just in, a splendor motorbike came to a screeching halt and nearly rammed into the “Moomphali wala” who had decided that shops on either side could use his services to fragment the shopping happy crowd, in order to facilitate prospective customer distribution.

Did I forget to mention that Dad was there too? But he was more like the non playing Davis Cup captain, who was there to certify whatever Mom had selected. Dad is also in the process of developing the quality standard for certification, but the guidelines are much simpler unlike ISO. The fail proof Golden Rule for survival, Dad tells me is : “Never tell a woman her choice is bad. Tell her that while the current selection is excellent, the one with the higher price tag goes well with the theme of the next occasion she is going to put the choice to test, be it a dress, ear rings, footwear or even the crockery on the table”

As mom entered the 22nd shop in series, (or was it the 25th ?), dad and I signed a secret pact to alternately accompany mom to shops in intervals of 5. As I waited on them, I managed to find myself a bench right in between two hawkers selling myriad accessories, and the bench seemed like a bus stop in the middle of a National Highway. I was surprised to see the variety in the crowds that thronged the place.

Just beside me was a MPTGH (Mein Poora thak gaya hoon) Bengali husband munching on some pop corn, just as his enthusiastic wife shouted from across the street, “ theek lagbe? 475 bolshish, ami 450 bolbo.”. (any linguistic mistakes, kindly excuse!). The husband replied with a facial expression that implied, “Do as you please”,and that was it!. He had incurred the wrath of the President of the Rashtriya Mahila Vikas Parishad.

I did not see the dude again!

A couple of Nagarjuna fans came by, as they were dressed in yellow shirts and red pants, and just as they mumbled to each other in Telugu, they did manage some Hyderabadi Hindi which got a chaste UP ite response from the vendor, half of which was inaudible owing to the Banarsi Pan that he chewed even as he said “Phipty Phive bhonly” with great difficulty. I had enough reasons to believe that the deal was lost due to lack of an interpreter though both parties had finalized a mutually acceptable price.

The Pan brought with it, an invisible spittoon, since everyone but me, was found spitting right in the middle of the road, which otherwise had just enough space to walk on. A husky “gentleman” occupied the seat adjacent to mine, who initiated a chat with the hawker in front, and they discussed about the “maal” that ranged from Chinese Pencil Batteries to fancy make up kits.

P.S. - Two things, I’ve learnt thus far in hindi slang – “ Anything fried in oil qualifies as Pakodi/da, and never address a girl as “behenji” however reverent you may feel about her” (VM, thanks for the tip)

Sorry for digressing, next came a cool dude who looked like an extra in a David Dhawan movie (referred to as Upma Kaapi in South Indian movies). But I actually liked the line on his T shirt which said, “I have an ATM right @ home: DAD”

The sea of humanity was there to be seen… Weird hairstyles, different nationalities, cacophony of voices, and equally enthusiastic shoppers!! I did a little bit of exploration to help myself to a “Saarvajanik Suvidha” which was extremely well maintained for a public restroom – Glazed walls, shiny unbroken mirrors, and even the local FM broadcast that had Kay Kay singing to me, the hit song, “Yeh duniya Oot Patanga….". But I wonder why the Dettol soap container had local liquid soap in it..

Meanwhile mom had selected a pattern that had qualified into the top 100 of the year list and I was called in to approve the same. I gave my expert opinion that had as much value as Jennifer Lopez’s comments on Raag Kalyani.

The pattern on the dress passed the following four tests:

The lights on/off test
The “Does this color match the one I bought last year on April 21 for Munnu’s wedding” test
The Price Bargain Test
Dad’s Patience Test

This was just the beginning and we finally followed the same protocol to buy enough to call in Blue Line Packers for Door to Door Delivery.

Dad was energized to carry on for another hour with some kadak elaichi chai that blended perfectly with the descending layers of fog that threatened to reduce visibility, but the determined shoppers had their way, even with mother nature!

Back home, as Mom examines, re-examines and convinces herself that she got a good deal on all the stuff that we picked up, I am writing this blog, on New year’s eve, with some melodious singing in the neighborhood from talented people as gifted as Santo Ji in the movie Kal Ho Na Ho.. Wait a minute…no it cannot be this bad…That is my favourite song from “Kabul Express”, being "melodiously" crooned and the accompaniment in the background is a , HARMONIUM!!????@@##

Happy New Year everyone! Mujhe apney haal pe chchod do!
Cheers and drive back safe!! 2007 needs you :)

Pic: Depicting the colors in one of the shops.

Pic: A crowded street in Sarojini Market

December 20, 1982.

2006-12-20T16:25:00.000+05:30

Here I am, turning a new leaf in the book of life. Ah! So clichéd, isn’t it? I am not supposed to divulge the details of my age on by birthday, as in the opening line of the post, but then, as my boss claims, I am like Shahid Afridi, whose age never goes beyond 17.

All said and done, neither am I famous cricketer, nor do I have enough hair to model for Head and Shoulders. But, then again, I can at least speak English. Period.

Birthdays have been something I’ve always cherished from the days I said “A for Asafoetida, and B for Bandopadhyay” instead of Apple and bat, and Mom knew that I was a born genius. Post this Archimedean discovery, mom invited Chunnu, Munnu, Rita, Lavanya, Raj, Salim, Jobey, and their parents to my birthday party to showcase the latest talent in the colony. As in the Hindi movies, when the time came for me to perform, a proclamation of “Nach Basanti Nach” followed, but I was so zapped eating sugar candies that I forgot how to perform, and ever since, I haven’t had cakes as a punishment for what mom had to face.

Colour dress in school, distributing chocolates, celebrity status for a day (which meant getting away with the meanest of things ), the caps, the food, the musical chairs, the cartoon films, the mess around the place – wow, that was some merriment. Gathering gifts and waiting for guests to leave, so that the contents could be revealed, was the most awaited moment. The 24 hours meant so much that you would not want to lose a single second since the wait of 364 days was quite taxing and the countdown, equally exciting.

Back to the present.

The last two weeks, I’ve led life like a “fragile handle with care” package thrown into a goods wagon of Indian Railways originating from Kakinada enroute Billimora. I have been tossed, bruised, badgered at work and have resembled “Tom” walloped by Jerry. I skipped meals (atleast one per day) and almost fainted in office like the Heroine’s mother in the Hindi movies after uttering, “Beti, yeh tune kya kar diya, khandan ki izzat ko mitti mein mila diya”.VM saved the day with Glucon D. Thanks V.

But yesterday, Dhandha thoda manda tha, and I finally got time for myself. My parents arrived in saddi dilli courtesy: X mas vacation and I drove down to Delhi to spend time with moi aunt, so that the Big day could be welcomed with the associated ado. I wish to be modest, and my celebration included, home made food that I have longed to eat in the past two weeks, as a much desired substitute to bread and butter.

Today has been a blast of a day thus far, with calls from friends, nice messages, and some greeting cards. I am thankful to Life for the acquaintances, and It’s these nice and often crazy moments with friends that you cherish, for, "those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind, don’t matter!”
I’ve gifted myself a Bajaj Pulsar, with the digital meter and sleek tail lamps, and how I got it would be a story for a rainy mushy day. Till then I am trying to figure out whether the gear mechanism on the bike is all gears down or vice versa.

Adios, let’s go party tonight!!

P.S. – This blog is based on a special request by P.A. from Pune. Here you go , Poo :)

Weekend tamasha Dilli de naal !

2006-12-11T11:14:00.001+05:30

I always wanted to write this particular clichéd statement as the opening line in one of my pieces. And today I’ve got the opportunity to do so. “The time is 2:05 a.m. and I am writing this blog in the chill of the wintry night!” Ah, that feels nice. Almost as if a heavy burden is off my back. As I sit back, illuminated by the light of the incandescent reading lamp across my bed in the guest house, the warmth of the Lux Cotts wool thermal adds a quarter of a degree to my body temperature and protects me from being transformed into a frozen Neanderthal mammoth of the previous millennium.

Yes, the minimum temperature that was recorded yesterday was 6.5 degrees Celsius and that is a degree above normal, I am told. Wow! Wonder how close we are to the Arctic Circle. And imagine a wedding party that is running late into the night, funding Himesh Reshmiya’s nasal implant expenses by playing his constipated songs at this wee hour, asking people for donations. Don’t worry Himesh ji, Just as Delhi washed their clothes with Surf Excel to collect Rs.5 Lakhs for a noble cause, your music shall be promoted in a similar manner.

My first week end in Noida has been good fun. With work pressures during the week soaring like the BSE sensex, I was left with little choice, but to work late nights, of course with intermittent supplements of Maggi tomato Soup. I entered the wee hours of Saturday morning, trying to pull out something like the magician’s rabbit, so that my client would be convinced about my skills in using Microsoft Power point. Post that, my boss took me along to his residence (and I am grateful to him for that) and made me devour hot and good home food that turned my deep blue frozen skin into pale pink. As a guest I also got to have a hefty breakfast the next morning and almost felt like staying over for lunch like the shameless Govinda in one of his ‘C’ grade flicks. But as luck would have it, I was expecting a call from my Packers and had to scamper back to my ‘future’ residence to receive the goods.

I have shed all inhibitions and never miss an opportunity to gorge home made food, which explains my immediate acceptance of an invitation by a colleague for dinner at his place. It was a re-union of sorts, with the boss gang and a couple of ex-colleagues meeting up on a breezy Saturday night.

Sunday was lazy and it was nice to watch Shah Rukh’s versatility and Ekta Kapoor’s triviality on channels like Sony Max and Star Plus which,way back in Chennai were portrayed as taboo channels and hence safely quarantined in the set top box, thanks to the Sun network monopoly.

The evening went in savoring some hot jalebis and pakodas that set the perfect stage to launch into a movie @ Imax in Spice Mall, and what could be better than, “My name’s Bond! Brooke Bond!” sorry James Bond. Well that’s the reason I guess Brooke Shields did not wed James Bond. Quite a decent flick but I would have preferred Pierce Brosnan in the lead role. The movie review would form the topic of another post.

Life’s suddenly got into fast forward 9x mode with so many things happening in such less time, and all I can do is “Bhaagam Bhaag”.
Whoever said “If everything is under your control, you ain’t going fast enough” was dead right about it! More to come on “Discovery of Delhi”….

Delhi Beckons!

2006-12-07T19:49:00.000+05:30

It’s been 3 days into Delhi/Noida Life, and so far so good. The last week was enjoyable, yet taxing , with myself traveling around the South of the Sub continent, as the next opportunity to do so would not be expected in the near future.

A quick trip to Hyderabad to meet up with a cousin, to another journey into the beauty of the Agumbe Ghats enroute to the famed Jog Water falls, peppered with ‘return to base camp’ sojourns at home, eleventh hour shopping for my Delhi stint, created quite a packed schedule of a whistle stop tour.

In fact, as I prepared for the packers to move my stuff from Bangalore, my house resembled a gypsy camp, and looking at my voluminous luggage, Mom was almost certain I had a secret family whom I was shifting without her knowledge to my new destination. What’s more, she commented in full filmi ishtyle, “Beta, yeh sab saaman tumhare pas kahan se aaye? Bata do ki tum waise kaam nahin kar rahe ho joh tumhe karna nahin chahiye?”

Jokes apart, my exit from Bangalore resembled the scene from the flick “Hyderabad Blues”, with my mom making the choicest of dishes, giving the soundest of advices and pressing a couple of hundred rupee notes in my palm to be handed over to Lakshmamma, our maid, as a good will gesture, which made me realize that basic instincts hardly change.

The flight to Delhi was nice. My maiden flight since February last, this was my first departure from Bangalore airport in 21 years. Things have changed, and air travel has become affordable these days. But strangely mindsets still need time to adapt. I overheard an inquisitive visitor asking an airport staffer, “Bhaisaab, Platform ticket kahan milega?”

I had a south east Asian as my co-passenger, who read some weird book the script of which resembled the one used in the Harappan civilization. He seemed sick and tired and I did not want to bother him with my conversations, as I had the pretty air hostesses at my beck and call who compensated well enough for my disinterested co-passenger.

Just as I landed at the Indira Gandhi International airport, I changed my attire from a coastal beach guy to an Eskimo from Antarctica, and have never come out of it for the last three days. As I got into the cab, I told the driver, “Noida pola ma?” (Can we go to Noida?) A 150 minute flight did not remind me to revise and update my regional lingo from Tamil/Kannada to Hindi.

The temperatures have been tolerable out here. However, a turtle neck sweater, a leather jacket, a monkey cap, muffler, woolen gloves and socks, follow me like Karna’s golden Kavach in the Mahabharata. Finding south Indian food has become as common as India winning an Olympic gold medal.

A Mallu colleague(LI) took me to one Laxmi Café in Sector 27 where we gobbled up rasam, sambhar and rice in true “Saddi Dilli” style, though I had to treat him for finding the place. The bill made me believe I was eating at Saravana Bhavan in New Jersey, and also brought up the attractive proposition of quitting my IT job and opening a “Madrasi in Dilli” café. Food was decent, unlike the Masala Dosa that I had sampled in Badrinath a few years ago which tasted like anything but the Dosa.

The interesting observation about Noida has been that there are lot of well built nomadic bulls which keep wandering on the roads. Wonder why opportunistic India has still not cashed in on the opportunity to employ them. Roads are wider with traffic equally unruly, rest seems normal. In case someone tells you S/He is chilling out, it means s/he’s actually chilled out thanks to the freezing cold. There are no medium budget hotels easily accessible. Either it’s the road side dhaba or the above average premium eat-outs that are available leaving very few options to choose from. Any tips in this direction are welcome.The beauty quotient (both natural and human *wink*) of Delhi/NCR is considered one of the best in the nation and I am all set to explore the same. So till I get back on those details, “O bhaiyya ! do kadak chai banana, malai maar ke!”

Logging off from Chennai!

2006-12-03T00:31:00.000+05:30

I m finally back! For those of you who managed to notice my disappearance into oblivion, and mistook me for Anant Gupta, the rich kid who was kidnapped from Noida recently, thank you for bestowing me with celebrity status.

Yes, after Prince(no not the black and white computer game that we played 10 years ago @ NIIT centers. It is the boy rescued from the well who is now modeling for Kamadhenu water pumps), Anant is getting Bollywood offers for Prakash Jha’s latest film “Anarth ka Anth Anant ke sangh”.

A lot of developments have happened in the current week, apart from the kidnap and release of Anant. My sojourn in Chennai is coming to an end. Though I would not be flying off to distant lands or the greener pastures of the clichéd Amrica, like in most Subhash Ghai flicks, Mom is still holding the tip of her saree’s pallu, brushing aside my sweat and saying, “ Sambhal ke rehna beta, Duniya bohot buri hai”.

I am making my way to the Rajdhani of India, Saddi Dilli. The transition to the Hindi Heartland after 2.5 years in Tamizh strong hold would play a big role in sensitizing me to the much talked about cross cultural divide in the Indian Sub continent.

Chennai has been good to me, in more ways than one. After all, this is the city where I started my “career” in the hallowed portals of the IT industry where I took pride in spending my self-earned rupee, though not returning Dad’s ATM card in the first month, till I got my own.

My Tamizh has improved a lot, what once sounded Latin, now sounds like Malayalam, so I consider that as an improvement. But of course, my brush with corporate honchos is courtey: Chennai. And the food courts and eating joints’ yellow pages is going to be published by me soon.The most important thing though is that it has given me the confidence to survive in any hostile surrounding.

I was just listing out the changes likely to be encountered by me thorough this shift.

A change from dosa and vada to aloo prantha, from A.R. Rehman to Daler Mehendi, from Vanakkam Aiyya to Jai Hind Sirjee, is going to get some time to internalized, and the last thing I would want to say to the Auto wallah in Delhi is Noida Varingla?

But this is going to be ‘some’ experience to say the least. Ab Dilli dur nahin..

Logging out from Chennai..More on Delhi and my crazy travels in the next post!

An Evening with F.R.I.E.N.D.S.

2006-11-05T20:04:00.000+05:30

F.R.I.E.N.D.S.: The second best thing after the family or at times even on par with the latter.It's quite interesting to note that we spend most of our waking lives in the company of colleagues and friends rather than our own family.

And to have a bunch of good friends is like being blessed.

It's a wonderful feeling to be in the company of friends who are willing to listen to you, no matter what your levels of verbal diarrhoea are :).

I can as well figure out the readers' sentimental emotions that have begun to flow like the overflowing Coums of Chennai city.

But yes, today was a great evening.An off the cuff program to the beach with a 'gang' of four other friends was indeed invigorating. The beauty about dynamic decision is the time saved which otherwise goes into long drawn planning that eventually results in zilch results.

D,P,H,E (codes sound like the logical reasoning section of a campus recruitment paper. What's more the letter codes actually match the all pervading Phoebie of the original series) and myself embarked on a mission to visit the visibly overloaded Beasant Nagar Beach, the drive leading up to which reminds me of the wide and tree laden road through Cubbon Park in Bangalore.

D was as usual in the mood of being relaxed and care free. I dont think you need much when you are an IIM pass out, running your own business and live in a cool pent houseon the 11th floor of a plush apartment in the heart of the city.

H, the no-nonsense guy of the group was trying to relate his experiences as part of the German entourange, intermittently munching on some mango and corn.

P, who is currently creating a couple of her portfolios to get into modelling, was the late entrant and was specially requested by H to be part of the gang.:)

E, the philosopher contemplated on the essense of existence as the waves washed some sea shells ashore (that was not a tongue twister, was it?)

And myself as usual, in the greater interest of the rest of humanity, ended up making a fool of myself,voluntarily giving the rest of the 'junta' a chance to laugh their hearts out....at my expense of course. Screen shots from Dil Chahta Hai, struck a chord with all of us, though.

We then moved on to sample "Frankies",sponsored by P. Actually this was my first frankie (yes, unexpected things do happen in this world. In fact when I first comprehended the word "Franky" as a kid, i associated it with a mini Frankenstein) ..It tasted good, though somewhat like a hybid of chapathi,cutlet,taaza pyaz and some chilli chutney, all roled into one tissue.lol.

By the way,The next two weeks are going to decide what I would be doing in the next 10 years.More on that once I get through this fortnight.

Nonetheless, The light banter helped cheer us all up and re-align towards the Lakshya.

This post does sound esoteric. But the mist would rise as I elaborate in due course.

Special thanks to P for making 'MY' evening so memorable. :D

By the way, 'M' we did miss you :)

Yeh Dosti, Hum nahin todenge....Don first, Sholay next....[.]

P.S. - Sorry, no snaps this time..This was off the cuff right?So I am excused...:)

6221 Down! - The sequel

2006-10-28T15:42:00.000+05:30

Okay!. Now where was I. Ah, yes…I got into the compartment only to discover that I was allocated a side upper, and this was almost equivalent to forcing a camel to enter an ant hill.(pardon the bad analogy!).Dad always told me not to look the gift horse in the mouth. All animal crackers apart, I was a little envious of the passengers who would enjoy their sleep on the “usual” berths.

Just then, a “boy” [used in the same analogy of the "child in the previous post here] appeared out of nowhere, with some heavy metal playing so loudly that even Professor Calculus (of Tintin fame) would be startled out of his slumber. The “boy” was vertically challenged [ should be just about 5.1 ft] but horizontally followed Charle’s law [Courtesy: Physical chemisty Class XI].

I requested the dude if he could swap his berth with mine for which he flatly refused.
Some courtesy, I thought! Meanwhile I turned my sight to a visibly “drunk” co-passenger uncle who was in pajamas and a white kurta and was making as many arrangements to get to sleep as if he were on a journey from Kashmir to Kanyakumari for the next 50 odd hours.

As everyone settled down in their berths, one person pointed to an unclaimed handbag that had been lying on a vacant berth for quite some time. Specially in the light of the recent train of events, the situation we had on our hands (George Bush lingo) was not to be taken lightly.

The RPF official soon swooped down, armed with an AK 47 raising quite a few brows around. It almost was a real life operation and it was not like the way it’s shown on TV. The bag was right behind me and God knew what it contained. Everyone expected the train to be halted and an IBN crew to arrive any moment and the 6221 would soon turn into the “Super Express” as in the famed movie “Burning Train”!

It was not funny at all, but I was still reminded of the serial “How I met your Mother” , where one of the episodes had Barney placing dummy suitcases on the conveyer belt to pose as tourists in the prospect of befriending fellow passengers of the fairer sex.

The hapless Railway attendant was summoned for interrogation if he had seen anything happening. The guy was scared out of his wits and thought he was being accused of the probable crime. He was asked to check if it belonged to any of the motormen. By now the panic factor started gripping everyone even as the cold conditioned air made us freeze.

One of passengers suggested we throw the bag out of the train. But what if it exploded on the track??

The TT was soon summoned to check if he owned the bag. When both responses turned out to be negative, the RPF office took great courage and tried opening the bag. The outer flap was opened. It had layered zips beneath. The first zip was opened with utmost care and lo behold! It was empty. But the bag was heavy and definitely had something in it. The second zip was being opened even as sweat dripped off many foreheads. And as the zip clicked open, “BOOM!” a bomb! thought everyone, only to realize that it was the long horn of the engine coupled with some track turbulence which had resulted in the toilet door in banging against the frame, with the loud bang.

As the bag was dug into, a couple of neatly pressed shirts came out..
A placebo! One of them commented…Next came an envelope..It must definitely have some design and maps, a passenger muttered. And what came out was currency of around 5000 Indian rupees. My My! 5k was his reward!!! Exclaimed one..

And to the sheer surprise of everyone, what accompanied the envelope was a letter addressed to a local blood bank and this was when all of thought this was actually not what we all imagined it to be.

A couple of passengers were asked to sign as witnesses for the amount found in the bag, lest the RPF be accused of devouring the cash. It was decided that the bag be handed over to the unclaimed baggage section in the next station.

Everyone left the coach at around 12:45..a.m. with no conclusion.

Meanwhile I was left with my side upper berth which was almost inconsequential now. Nonetheless there was a “smart” lady who had got in at Cantonment and apparently had been allotted the regular upper berth atop the drunken uncle in pajamahs. Now this was a task for “Superman”, I muttered and rushed to offer a swap which she readily agreed to. As I gleefully acknowledged the “Dumb Blonde” theory, I realized that I had obtained a raw bargain. The smart ”blonde” had given me a berth that was just above the entrance of the AC compartment and had three a/c blowers adjacent to it, emulating the atmosphere in the “Abirami Snow World” in Chennai.(Yes, in Chennai now-a-days, the rains are free but snow is still to be bought)

As I dreamt about anything other than the polar bear, I faintly heard some noises around me. Apparently they had found the owner of the bag in one of the other compartments and the attendant came to wake up the witnesses to testify the co-ordinates of the bag. There were some words flying here and there about the man “forgetting” his luggage and all that. But the RPF officer announced that the issue was resolved and he would tell us the details next morning. But we never got to listen to the details.

With teeth chattering, the drunk uncle snoring, the adventure still ringing, and with the door banging into my feet jutting out of the berth, It was almost day break by the time I could catch some sleep.

The last straw on the camel’s (my) back was the arrival of the 6221 an hour before schedule which had a probability of 1/2756984. To top it all, I had developed a heavy cold and have been coughing all week and am pampering myself with “Sud Tanni” (Hot water) as part of my daily menu.!! Achchooo!!

6221 Down! - Bangalore-Chennai

2006-10-19T20:39:00.000+05:30

That's right! This is precisely the train number of the "Kaveri Express" that runs daily and transports around 1276.5 people(15 coaches multiplied by 60 seats + unreserved + kids + vendors + ticketless travellers) between the metros of Bangalore and Chennai.

I had this psychological feeling of associating a train journey with summer vacations, for a train journey signified a looooong trip. Not anymore. I've very well joined the bandwagon of Indians who travel more often than they visit the restroom.

The 6221, departs at a convenient 23:45 hrs, thus providing lot of allowance for those office goers whose place of work does not mandate enough travel, which most Bangaloreans would find as close to the ideal state Carnot's engine.

After a hefty meal(I've said this before, My mother believes food is unavailable in Chennai), and a tearful farewell (they were more tears of joy though Ma doesn't admit it :)), I reached the Bengalooru city railway station at around 23:15 hrs. It's that time of the night when the stray dog on the street thinks he's the lion of the area, and hawaldar Pandu, is busy having a beedi to beat the cold weather.

The railway station as ubiquotious across India, as the Medu Vada in an Udupi restaurant, was however totally different from the sleepy city in being up and running 25*8.

I dragged my stuffed suitcase along the rugged platform and reached my coach S5, after a long walk that was as far as Dandi from Sabarmati.

I gleefully pulled out my ticket and matched S5 54, against the reservation chart that still smelt of fresh glue with which it had just been pasted.

S5 52 Santo Ben F 56
S5 53 Santa Singh M 78
S5 54 Lokesha M 28

S5 55 hey! wait a minute, 54 was supposed to be my name, unless of course my parents got fed up of calling me by the same.

I checked and re-checked!. I thought that Indian Railways was testing my logical reasoning ability and tried rearranging the letters of Lokesha to get my name in place. I then said to myself, "Abraca Dabra, choo!" still no luck. The time was 23:25. twenty mintues to departure.

I started swearing against my travel agent who I thought had bungled things up. but no! the date and train number were right.I decided to check if my berth was occupied, else I would sneak into the same and hold onto it for dear life.

As I approached the berth, I saw a 28 year old "boy" who was a macho already asleep on the berth, with his shoes at the far end. I hate it when people put their footwear on the berth thereby treating the railways as the Indian Government's dowry to them. Guessing from the namology, I figured the guy had to be from Karnataka. Not wanting to be beaten up into a pulp by the body builder, I broke into Kannada in the most reverent of tones, "Saar #54 nim berth a? nandu kooda ade ansuttey". (Sir, is this your berth? I seem to have the same number too). I expected the man to retort with annoyance, but Mr. Lokesha was more than willing to help.He allowed me to park my luggage under his berth and volunteered to sort it out with the TT. His ticket had apparently been confirmed from an RAC.

As we marched upto the TT in the adjacent bogie,"S S Sharma". I enquired, "Sirjee, zara yeh ticket dekh sakhtey hain? dono mein ek hi number hai? " He turned out to be the wrong one. We travelled to the other end of the compartment and bumped into the "real" TT.I read his nameplate "R. Selvamani". I've realized that speaking one's mother tongue adds the extra touch to the conversation. I decided to test my Tamil skills. I muttered "Saar, inda ticket koncha paakringla. Randa ticket ley orey number da irukku".(Sir will you please see these tickets they same to have the same number). By now, Mr. Lokesha thought I was going to speak Mandarin and Swahili in my next conversation.

The TT pleasantly smiled at me and said,"Saar! Ungod Class AC ku upgrade aairukku".(Sir, your class has been upgraded to AC). As pleased as punch, I triumphantly scorned the II sleeper bogie and sang praises of Lalooji even as Mr. Lokesha announced to his fellow passengers the news which was perceived by the others as if I had set a new Olympic record in Kabaddi.

It was 23:42. Three minutes to reach the compartment that was a good 5 bogies away. The gymnastics of Nadali Dementia(Should be Russian! and the relative of the Scientist who discovered Dementia - temporary loss of memory)did help me reach in time.

Once onto the train and after settling into my seat,I discovered that it was side upper! Groan! I muttered..And shortly I saw some passengers raising an alarm with a Railway police officer about unclaimed baggage right behind my seat!!

What happened to me in the Side berth? Did the unclaimed baggage contain some contraband substance that blew up? Wait for the next blog for more details on the same. Reporter Tintin would be back live :). Please dont go anywhere and do take good care of yourself

Wishes!

2006-10-19T20:33:00.000+05:30

Dear Readers,

Wish you and your family greetings of the season.

Just want to quote one line that was published in the Times of India a few years ago.

Happy DiwALI and RAMzan! Who are we to draw the line?Simply awesome!ain't it?

Btw, This is probably my shortest blog :).

Celebrate life!
cheers.

The Magician of Malgudi

2006-10-10T21:20:00.000+05:30

How many of us have grown up, spending time in front of good old Doordarshan, watching the serial “Malgudi Days”! The melodious title music, the make-believe small town setting of Malgudi, the characters so infused with life – Swami being the most famous among them, and but of course, the illustrations and sketches, all these bring back memories of the person with the gift of Story telling – R.K. Narayan.

Born as Rasipuram Krishnaswami Ayyar Narayanaswami, R.K. Narayan is among the well known and most widely read Indian novelists who wrote in the English Language.

After completing eight years of education at the Lutheran Mission School close to his grandmother's house in Madras, he studied for a short time at the CRC High School. When his father, Rasipuram Venkatarama Krishnaswami Iyer, was appointed headmaster of the Maharaja's High School in Mysore, Narayan moved back in with his parents. To his father's consternation, Narayan was an indifferent student and after graduating, he failed the college entrance exam in English because he found the primary textbook too boring to read. He retook the exam a year later and eventually obtained his bachelor's degree from the University of Mysore.

One of the few Indian-English writers who spent nearly all his time in India, he went abroad to the United States in 1956 at the invitation of the Rockefeller Foundation. Narayan's first published work was the review of a book titled Development of Maritime Laws of 17th-Century England. He began his literary career with short stories which appeared in The Hindu, and also worked for some time as the Mysore correspondent of Justice, a Madras-based newspaper. He also took up teaching at a government school, but left the job within two days.

It was on a Vijayadashami day, that his grandmother asked him to write something in the new book and Narayan was not sure what to write. It was at this time that his mind conceptualized a small town of South India and called it Malgudi which eventually interconnected the experiences of many Indians who could relate to the same.

His writing career began with Swami and Friends.At first, he could not get the novel published. Eventually, the draft was shown to Graham Greene by a mutual friend, Purna. Greene liked it so much that he arranged for its publication. Greene was to remain a close friend and admirer of his. After that, he published a continuous stream of novels, all set in Malgudi and each dealing with different characters in that fictional place. Autobiographical content forms a significant part of some of his novels. For example, the events surrounding the death of his young wife and how he coped with the loss form the basis of The English Teacher. Mr. Narayan became his own publisher, when World WarII cut him off from Britain.

Mr. Narayan won numerous awards and honours for his works. He won the National Prize of the Sahitya Akademi, the Indian literary academy, for The Guide in 1958. He was honoured with the Padma Bhushan, a coveted Indian award, for distinguished service to literature in 1964. In 1980, R. K. Narayan was awarded the AC Benson Medal by the Royal Society of Literature. He was an honorary member of the society. He was elected an honorary member of the American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters in 1982 and nominated to the Rajya Sabha in 1989. In addition, the University of Mysore, Delhi University and the University of Leeds conferred honorary doctorates on him. His work is unique in writing field. He was awarded Padma Vibhushan in 2000.

RKN's stories have definitely formed a part and parcel of every Indian household that would be remembered for time immemorial.Today, October 10 marks the birth centenary of this great author, and the least we could do is pass on the timeless tales written by him, to the generations that follow!

P.S. Facts courtesy - Wikipedia

Tagged! - A self response questionnaire

2006-10-09T12:07:00.000+05:30

Ok! Benovelent Anu has tagged me, and I've set out to answer these "good" questions, in a manner as true to myself as possible.

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn on page 18 and find line 4.

The book on my table is my personal red diary (like the one in the movie DON). Pg 18, line 4 is a white patch between two lines. In other words, it’s blank. Haven’t reached writing into page 18 yet.

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can.

Oops! My colleague’s wig just took off *giggle*

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?

Inzamam-ul-Haq’s English in the Man-of -the match ceremony. Yes, that was eons ago, my room in Chennai has no TV, coz you don’t need idiot boxes where idiots live :)

4. Without looking, guess what time it is?

I came in to work,finished checking my mails, cleared the trash and settled down to write this, so it must be TEA time.

5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?

What ever it is, it sure is never late to grab a coffee. Tea time does not always mandate you to drink tea, does it?

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?

The sound of silence! (isn't that an oxymoron?) - not many people are in yet, thanks to Monday morning blues

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?

Half hour ago -Thinking as to why the cow across the street prefers eating banana leaves to coconut leaves.

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?

An e-mail joke from a colleague in my mailbox, the import of which am still trying to comprehend. :(

9. What are you wearing?

A 500 Watt positive attitude and a broad smile with the ends of my lips turned up.

10. Did you dream last night?

Yes, That I flunked the Class X Bio paper for the nth time.

11. When did you last laugh?

Just Now. Thinking about what I dreamt last night.

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?

Let me consider the wall of my open cubicle:

A friend’s sketch of a falcon – breathtaking
Quotes from the Alchemist - Inspiring
A poem by Rudyard Kipling – Memorising
The Indian Tri Color - Mesmerising
A campus batch mates’ photograph which is now selling like an antique piece - just hanging :)

I also have a Couple of meaningless but whacky quotes like:

•The succeeding statement is true: The preceding statement is false
•Diplomacy is the art of saying "nice doggie" . . . 'till you can find a rock!
•Smile today. Tomorrow could be worse.
•Always and never are two words you should always remember never to use.
•If everything seems to be under control, you are not going fast enough.

13. Seen anything weird lately?

Yeah! Looked at myself in the wash room mirror - (har har har)

14. What do you think of this quiz?

QUIZ! Yippiee.. Did I answer a quiz? I thought it was a stress interview for a job opening @ Blogspot

15. What is the last film you saw?

Yesterday – The name of the Movie was "A day in the life of my life"

Producer – Mother Nature
Assistant Director - Serendipity
Actor - Me :)
Actress – Situation Vacant ! Interested candidates can apply
The Director – GOD !!

16. If you became a multimillionaire overnight, what would you buy?

Would I still have to buy,I'd anyway get a new name?? - SelvaKumar ( translating to the poor little Rich boy - Richie Rich) in Tamizh.

17. Tell me something about you that I dunno.

I detest colored “upma” (prefer the dish white) as much as mallika sherawat dislikes Salwar kameez.

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?

Change Myself :P

19. Do you like to dance?

I love to, and am currently being coached by Prabhu Deva’s personal Dhobi

20. George Bush.

Hmmm…Hmmmm…Hmmm…. – In order to win the battle, we need to defeat the enemy in the war !! :P

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?

Lulu (pet name)

22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?

Tintin (pet name)

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?

Nopes, Zindagirocks@India.com.

24. What do you want GOD to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?

GOD to Me : I think you got the wrong address buddy..My records don’t reflect your name.Having said that, maybe it’s because of your faulty code that My database got corrupted…lol

25. 5 people who must also do this in their blog.

Arthi
Subbu
Aphros
Anonymous
Anonymous

One Night @ an ATM

2006-10-03T14:11:00.000+05:30

Glossary:
ATM : Any Time Money
Dumb IT Guy: Me
Security guard: Anyone who is at places other than where he actually should be

This list will evolve in flesh and blood as the blog proceeds.And the title of this post bears no resemblance with Chetan Bhagat's novel.

It was one of those days, when after a contented meal, and a banarsi paan, all you could ask for, is a Hot Chocolate Fudge... [Yummmm ain't it].

Well, having said that, I was feeling quite full and another mention of anything edible, would have made me adopt Gandhigiri's famed "fast unto death", for the preservation of the endangered cockroaches in T Nagar.

A chat treat at Gangotree and some corn with butter was quite filling, and as I thundered down G.N. Chetty Road @ speeds of 5.6124 kmph, my extra sharp eyes spotted an ATM - Yes, Yes, you are right! The same 2x2 cubicle that coughs up cash the moment you load its processor with the magic pin code.

This ATM belonged to a bank other than the one in which I hold an account, but my bankers, generous as they are, give me a couple of transactions without charge whenever I use an external ATM.

And the "lazy" me decided to avail this option rather than go to the end of the road to my "regular" ATM.

It was quarter to 10, and I remembered dad's words of ATMs being unsafe at night. But, the adventurous part of me, took on the challenge and entered the air conditioned match box.

I tried inserting my card and something told me, the machine was not going to accept it. Perseverant that I am, in matters which dare defy me, I forced the card into the machine till it was three quarters in. It was then the realisation dawned on me that something was hopelessly wrong and now I had to figure out a way of removing the card more like trying to snatch a bone from the jaws of a german shepherd.

Using some basic mechanical engineering skills that i had assimilated sleeping through seminars and presentations, i picked up a gem clip and thought if I could fit the width of the card into the clip, I could then pull out the same.

Meanwhile a couple of co-ATM visitors successfully completed their transactions on the machine next to mine and started suspiciously staringat me, as I tried to draw my card out. No success yet! In fact, rather than coming out, the card went almost in but was still stuck in the jaws of the machine. Rowan Atkinson would have been proud of me, as my antics of removing the card could well be converted into a whole episode of "Mr. Bean @ the ATM".

As I was pondering my next course of action, a brilliant idea struck me! - I tried to scout around for the watchman but as I moved out of the ATM, all I found were three stray dogs menacingly staring at me. I got back into the ATM and stayed there for a quarter of an hour. The stage was set like the episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. where Chandler gets stuck at an ATM when there is a power black out and has a beautiful model for company. But poor me had just a poster of a starlet advertising the Bank's latest schemes adorning the soiled walls. What a pity, that you neither get "locked out" in Indian ATM s.

As the coast got clear, I managed to reach out to the watchman, who was catching a quick nap in the basement, and after listening to my story, asked me to come back the day after to collect the card since the next day was a National Holiday -Bole toh apna Baapu ka Happy Birthday, that's why.

Now, the eerie feeling of my card being misused and my account being reduced to nil balance sent the shivers down my spine. I decided to wait till such a time that an Einstenian idea could strike.

I had once studied a chapter on Semaphores in Operating Systems which quoted ATM s as a real time example.Now was my chance to write some path breaking code on a PLA (geek gadget) to force open the ATM, like they show in the Block buster Sci-Fi movies. but alas, I am not a star programmer, In fact my programming skills are almost similar to George Bush's speech making skills. Both work best when not used.

Finally,as I star gazed looking for higher level intervention, a samaritan who came to withdraw cash, looked at me with the "You IT guys always land up in a mess, dont you?" gaze and did something which was born out of sheer common sense.

He took out his card and pushed it against mine, and voila! my card successfully entered the system and the usual status message appeared. I thanked him profusely and realized what six sigma could not achieve, plain common sense did.

Blushing, I took my card out and made my way out of the ATM, with a lesson learnt well...It's the small detail that helps rather than paralysis of analysis!

And as a compensation, the bank has decided to bring in additional options for customers stuck at ATMs. I've decided what I want - the next time the message "Do you want another function?" flashes on the screen, am gonna order for a Cold Coffe with extra cream and caramel!

To eat or not to eat?

2006-09-21T11:51:00.000+05:30

The basic instinct of any human being (No I am not referring to that: Corrupt you!) is to find three square meals a day (I still wonder why they call it square when most plates we eat in, are ellipses), and for those people living out of their cozy homes, in far away lands inhabited by alien species: they need four 'square' meals a day.

Two days prior to my departure to my home 'city' ( would not want to call Bangalore a town), dear mom called me up on the phone and enquired in a quivering voice similar to that of Nirupa Roy (The ever pervading mother of Indian Cinema) :

"Beta, ghar kab laut rahe ho? tumse baat kiye huey bees ghante ho gaye hai. Padosi ka ladka munnu har haftey aata jaata rehta hai.Tumharey paapa bhi intezaar kar rahe hai... jaldi aa beta, kaam toh chalta hi rahega". By the way, before my readers sympathise with munnu, he is the "bad boy" of the street who stays out of the house and comes back home at the end of the week when he runs out of money. Nevertheless, I got all senti and decided to pack my bags and catch the next bail gaadi (oops rail gaadi) to Bengalooru, like Aakash in Dil Chahta Hai.
By the way I think Aakash used the Hawai Gaadi in the movie, to travel fraam Aastrayliya to Humara India.

Awwww. wasn't that sweet?. Wish it would happen that way. I had been home just a month ago and when I announced the details of my being there over the weekend, Mom was so aghast that she asked me if e-cancellation of the ticket was possible and told me to utilize the option for the same. But like all mothers, whose hearts are made of Platinum, dear mom welcomed me with as much fanfare as depicted in the Siyaram Suiting advertisement, and the only component missing, was Dia Mirza.

After the customary "You look so lean and have gone down so much dear, you are not eating well" words, mom gave me many guidelines that could be compiled into a best seller, overnight. She stopped only when I told her that my waist size had increased by over an inch thanks to Chennai in general and Usha Uthup aunty in particular (Refer to the previous post here).

But mom was not convinced, and for the two days at home, my itinerary looked something like this:

5:30 - wake up!
6:30 - final wake up call or MS Subbulaxmi in max volume
7:00 - Tea with sprouts and biscuits
8:30 - BreakfEast
10:00- Freshly prepared Juice
11:00- Bakery Biscuits
11:30- Dry Fruit Snack
12:00- Soup
13:00-......................

I think the half day schedule was quite "filling" and I'll cut it short here, lest i be troubled by pangs of envy.

That's not the end of the story. This is the schedule on an off day. On a "special day", visits to grandma's, maamis' and buaji's houses leaves me with enough and more to chew the cud for two continuous days once back in chennai.

Mom strangely believes that there is a severe food shortage in chennai. So she packs up almost everthing and hence, I make it a point to carry an empty suitcase on my onward journey which comes back full, during the return trip.

Of course, These are coupled with the gellusils, haajmolas and Pudin Haara.

But then, as they say, "Mother's love is fattening, and I am not complaining". Rather, I am all set to participate in the T Nagar Sumo Wrestling competition next week. So wish me luck :)

Gandhi Giri - probable situations :).

2006-09-11T13:35:00.000+05:30

I tried experimenting with the newly found liking to the “gyan” and “gandhigiri” philosophy, courtesy: the movie that I’ve spoken of in the previous post here. [For the uninitiated, Gandhi and Giri are not my neighbors, Gandhigiri as defined by Mr. Murli Prasad Sharma, is the act of following the ideals propagated by Mahatma Gandhi, in the context of the 21st Century].

My Experiments with the moments of truth are narrated below: Note: Watching the movie would help you relate the scenes of the movie to the following experiences, all of which might not have actually happened, and are all a figment of my volatile imagination.

Scene 1: The RTO office at K K Nagar

After watching the movie, I finally decided to obtain my road tax permit for my kinetic that I had evaded till date and chugged along to the RTO office to own up my “sins” to the round and beautiful traffic inspector who would come out to inspect the bike.

The “dude” asked me as to why he should approve of my wrongdoing for which I explained the script of the movie that had inspired me to commit kamikaze at the RTO office.

The routine “maamool” was asked for, and after consultation with “baapu” who was right behind me [a la the movie], I decided to embarrass the inspector by shedding my tee shirt then my glasses and by then a huge crowd had gathered near the spot.

Instead of the desired effect, my bike was seized and I was mocked at and shooed away for indecent exposure, and the moral police felt I was giving Mallika Sherawat a run for her money. the Cristies’ of London have been wanting my tee shirt for an auction titled, “The tee shirt of the man who made an ass of himself, rather rephrasing it as the ass who tried to make a man of himself”.

Contributions for paying my auto fare to and back from office in the absence of my loyal two wheeler, are humbly accepted.

Scene 2: Building relationships

I had mentioned about my noisy roomies in a previous post here. As a mark of silent protest/ Satyagraha, I decided to sleep out of the room, right in the middle of the hall, so that they get aware of my problems, and turn down the volume, since “Satyagraha sey dushman ki nazron mein aap key liye izzat badti hai”.

The result has been that both the rooms are now bolted and the volumes of Himesh Reshmiya are at an all time high, and Sigh! Neither are the ear plugs working.

Scene 3: @ my home in Chennai

My neighbor’s wife has this annoying habit of combing her hair, making small rings out of those that have come loose and blowing them into the air, like a child making a “good luck” wish. The small rings of hair conveniently make their way into our room though the balcony and lodge themselves al all inaccessible locations.

I got this idea of shouting at my neighbour, but then, after watching the movie, I picked up all the cute little hair collectables and made a hair bun out of the same (yeah, I learnt the art from my grandmother) and went across to present the same to my padosi’s padosan.

The uncle thought I had ulterior motives and has lodged a complaint with the Secretary of the apartment on account of prying and forceful entry into their flat. I had also used the broad smile as shown in the movie but that did not seem to work.

Eviction proceedings are underway , and I am now, out, searching for a new flat.

May be Baapu forgot to include the enhanced version 1.1 for the user manual on Satyagraha for the 21st century. So, till then, I am going to watch a re-run of Lagey Raho Munna Bhai…..for some finer tips on survival :)

Lagey Raho...

2006-09-08T10:46:00.000+05:30

What would you wish to do when you are loaded with work at office and know you are fighting a challenging battle against time? Or, you’ve just been dumped by your girlfriend and feel that the rest of the “buri duniya” is plotting to get rid of you?Worse even, you’ve just come out of a casino with no money left but for a hundred odd rupees, that can’t help you do much?

Lo behold! You are in the perfect condition to go watch the latest flick of Tinsel town – “ Lagey Raho Munna Bhai”.

After much deliberation, and mustering a feeble strength of 3 fellow cinema watchers, my movie watching plan was almost in jeopardy and with the movie running to packed houses, I was heading towards the cinema hall with no tickets in my pocket.

But India, the land of opportunity that it is, gives you a hundred options to choose from, when you ask for just one. And banking on this, I pulled out my 1898 make “bike” [past references to the “Kinetic Honda”] and set out to have my dose of laughter therapy.

Adding to the fervor of the day was the fact that September 7, after all the controversies that it got itself in, still marks the Centenary celebrations of the National Song of India, “Vande Mataram”. This song has been sung in so many myriad tunes that each new one refreshes the message and the effect of the lyrics on the audience, and this movie captured this song in one of the better renditions by Shantanu Moitra - "Bandhe mein tha Dum, Vande Mataram !".

The star cast is almost the same with the minor exception of Vidya Balan, who adds an extra layer of beauty each time she acts in a movie. [Yes, I was bowled over by her performance in Parineeta]. Including the dhobis and their characteristic dhobi ghat coupled with the “Rampuri” brandishing “Circuit” and the protagonist - the heart of gold wala tapori - Sanju Baaba all gel with the movie and have a great chemistry. Bomman as usual, masters his role in the plot of being the thorn in the foot.

Not many times can you have a comedy genre movie with a moral, but then lagey Raho scores a 100 percent in this department, by involving Baapu Mahatama Gandhi under the famous banner of “Gandhigiri versus Gundagiri”.

A phenomenally refreshing movie and a must watch for all the Indian people “bole to” for all those who feel “desh ki waat lag rahi hai” oops “ desh ki durgati ho rey li hai Maamu”.

The only pangs of guilt that I had after watching the movie were that I bought the tickets in black for almost double the price, which is against the principle of “Gandhigiri”.

But, looking at the brighter side, it helped a poor fellow Indian to buy his daily quota of roti, kapda aur…. daroo?? – Keep rocking Munna Bhai, apun abhi katlera hai :)

Neend Churayi Meri….Kisney O Sanam? [ Trans : Who stole my sleep My Dear?]

2006-08-29T12:52:00.000+05:30

Of late, I have found it extremely difficult to grab some good sleep at night. Changing the time at which I go to bed hasn’t helped either. I have tried pinning down a lot of reasons for my inadequate rest and have short listed a few potential ones. My party going room mates who, after their “fun” come home and bang the door so hard that the Secretary of the apartment we stay in thinks it’s a terrorist attack in our serene locality. You must however discount his description as he keeps going overboard each time even when he compares his grandson’s arms to John Abraham’s biceps. Well, not that my knowledge of biceps is great. It is as much as Shakira’s interest in Carnatic Classical music. But nevertheless, we all comment on things we are ignorant about, so it’s ok.

Where were we? Ah, yes, my room mates after their parties at the “ 24 x 7 Babu Chettan Chai Kada” opposite our flat, is one probable factor.

Next, it’s the vagaries in the Chennai weather that promote my indecision in judging whether to sleep with the bed sheet on, or otherwise. And even before I decide on this issue of National importance, I hear Bryan Adams singing to me. For a moment I am glad that I am dreaming, which implies that I am asleep, but all of a sudden, his voice grows larger than life. Now I am convinced that I am asleep since I am dreaming about being live at his concert.

And then I hear him intermixing his lyrics with Malayalam, Kannada and Bhojpuri ?? - Eventually driving me to realize that the three pain in the neck room mates of mine have a discussion on “How to celebrate Sonia Gandhi’s next birthday”, ably assisted by Bryan Adams, in the adjacent room. I shout at the top of my “melodious” voice like Bianca Castafiore’s [of Tintin fame] “Maaaarrrrrthaaaa”, till the volume is turned down.

I get back to counting the number of rows in a Microsoft Excel sheet [counting sheep doesn’t quite gel with IT guys] and just as I reach the 29,967 th row count, my room mate’s mobile phone that he left back to sing a lullaby to me, croons with Himesh Reshmiya and his T Nagar police station 3rd degree torture voice.

I shout back over the voices of Bryan Adams, Himesh Reshmiya and the Mallu-Kandu-Bhoju (don’t know if this is the right word) combo, to take the constipated guy away.

As I settle back now, changing body postures to prevent body sores, I suddenly realize I need to get some water after all that shouting. But the challenge lies not in getting to the water can perched atop the kitchen sink, but to dodge the Z security maze that we’ve created four ourselves. Yes, two mosquito nets, a foldable dumping cot, a study table and a chair – all in one room can get quite crampy at times. I slide out of the net trying to evade the attention of the ever waiting mosquitoes; I maneuver the complex network of the rope/thread holding the two nets, in MI 2 style and eventually return after a refreshing drink of H2O.

Now I am all set to wage the Fifth Battle of Panipat ( not sure if there were four of them earlier, either) with the blood sucking parasites and as I brandish my swords like that of the last Samurai, I hear the door bell ring. No one else in the house wakes up as their intellectual discussions have concluded pretty late in the night and I go ahead and open the door to find my owner looking at me with the “ I know you IT guys – you party hard at night and don’t care to open the door at 6:30 in the morning” look. It’s morning already! I wonder, and get back to the bed like the security guard at my office after his night shift.

And as I learn to put up with all this, I am planning to invest in a couple of Ear plugs that would at least save me from answering the door bell - I hope!

Till then, My Dil goes zzzzz zzzzz zzzzz !! :)

An Idiot's guide to Indian Traffic Rules.

2006-08-22T11:51:00.000+05:30

If you are driving down the streets of India, you might well be surprised that the rule book for safe driving given to you at the Indian Consulate at the time of obtaining your visa seems to be outdated. [Yes, Now-a-days, medicines are not the only commodities with expiry dates].

For first timers visiting India, and planning to rent out mopeds/bikes/three wheeler taxis [better known as auto rickshaws], to drive around on your own, here are the 20 postulates on how not to end up in hospital on your maiden flight, err ride ..

1] When you see red, stop. When you see green, go. When you see yellow, go faster!

2] If you are on a two wheeler, having large size indicators helps. Be careful not to wave your hand to show signals during peak hour, else you wont be able to wave again.

3] When at the zebra crossing, dont expect zebras to show you the way. We have enough and more people in India that zebras are the last thing we need now.

4] The smaller vehicle is always right. In case you are on a two wheeler, and you break a signal hence enabling a scorpio/ikon to hit you, you need not worry. The bigger the bullier! so it's not your fault anymore.

5] We get Meteor showers in India instead of Rain. If you can see the sky above you and feel you are in an elephant's burrow, chances are that you have fallen into a pit that has just been dug in the middle of the road by the DoT for laying Optical Fibres. That expains our flair for Adventure sports but a dismal track record at the Olympics is something we are working on to improve.

6] When there are 10 seconds for the signal to turn green, start moving or get moved over.

7] Corollary to postulate 4: The proportion of compensation, irrespective of whose fault it is, is directly proportional to the size and make of the car/van/bus, unless of course you have hit guy on a bicycle. The rest depends on your bargaining power.

8] While overspeeding remember not to stop at any cost when you see white and brown and a large ponch. No! they have not changed the color of the traffic lights. For all you know he might be a policeman with a speed gun waiting to fine you.

9] Having a mud covered/soiled number plate helps in preventing onlookers from noting the same.

10] Most Indian four wheelers are left hand drives. Yes, the women on the left seats talk the men into the way they ought to be driving. We are an I.T. nation so most Indians learn driving through e-learning courses.

11] The width of the road always fills up to accomodate a water tanker, a cycle rickshaw, a couple of cows and if you are lucky, you can walk in the space that remains.

12] If eventually you dont see riders on the road, don't panic. They are soon becoming extinct as the sale of helmets is reaching an all time low.

13] If you have all documents in order, including the requisite certificates, be 100% sure, the cop won't stop you on the way. But if you have even one of those missing,it's going to be your "lucky" day.

14] Always park in front of "No Parking" boards so that it is hidden from view of the cops. This helps in preventing you being fined. And for those of you who did not understand,[specially the Chinese], fined is not the past tense of being fine.

15] If you want to have your right of way, you need to give up your right to live!

16] Be comfortable and coversant with local slangs and abuses. You dont know when you would require to sing praises of your fellow commuter on the road. Low Price Editions of "Learn to give gaalis in 30 days" are available at all leading book stores at vaious airports and railway stations. Pakistanis can learn them in 1 day since the variation in language is quite minimal.

17] Please remember that it is legal in India to have 4 people travelling on a 2 seater mobike/scooter. After all, it is Paapa,Mummy and Chunnu Munnu di Gaddi. The fact that the Japanese stole the concept of Optimization from us is evident from this age old practice.

18] It is also common to over take from the left,all that matters is who is left at the end of it all.

19] It is illegal in India to drink and drive but all pubs have parking lots which are always full. And did I forget to mention that it is perfectly legal to drink and walk in the middle of the road, so if you hit a drunkard, it's but your own fault.

20] Lastly, even if after reading all this, you still dare to drive on our roads, please call 9990652236 well in advance. That's the number of the coffin maker, they need advance booking since they are always busy, but don't worry, your driving skills will be remembered for ever....with the engraving on the tombstone of course.

Welcome to India! Hope you have a pleasant stay and we anticipate you would be able to see your motherland again

Today we celebrate Independence Day !!

2006-08-15T00:27:00.000+05:30

Pic above : NASDAQ proclaims its wishes on Indian Independence day and was the star attraction at Times Square.

As I type this post, I keep a watch on the hands of the wall clock that is fast approaching the midnight hour, heralding the advent of the 60th year of Indian Independence.

This might be part of an extended vacation for most people who consider this day as just another well deserved rest day, but there still exist people for whom the day is reminiscent of the sacrifices of thousands who feel a tribute to the nation is more than just hoisting the flag and singing patriotic songs. For them, it is the celebrating the spirit of freedom that has more connotations than the symbolic gestures.

It is the freedom to decide our future, the freedom to express opinions, the freedom to fight for a cause with conviction.

We might speak of the failures of the past or the ineffectiveness of the Indian Democracy, but deep beneath in our hearts, we realize that it has been challenging for a nation of One Billion people with a billion diverse tastes, to remain cohesive as a unified entity for 59 years and for all those who thought at the time of independence that the survival of the independent India would hinge on constant dependence on the “developed nations” and would eventually turn to them for crutches of empowerment, the current scenario has proved an indigestible surprise.

With all our flaws, and all our bickering, moments of despair and euphoria of hope, we have come a long way, and it is nothing less than a miracle to have remained a fully functional democracy despite all this, unlike the less fortunate neighbors of the Indian Union.

The inhabitants of this country might change over a period of time, but the symbols of India’s existence, the indelible marks left by India Inc. the world over are here to stay. And as the world looks up to India as the trend setter, we have made quite a transition from being a land of snake charmers to a land of mouse movers.

No longer is India known for just the Taj Mahal and Kohinoor, but it is known for the most important resource that runs the world economy – Intellectual Capital.

An MNC as large as PEPSI looking to an Indian to bail them out of the current cola controvery, as Indra Nooyi takes center stage as the CEO is yet another “Made In India” stamp on the world stage.

A.R. Rahman, on the cover of his album “Ma Tujhe Salaam”[which I am currently listening to, on Bangalore's Radio City] released on the occasion of the Golden Jubilee of Indian Independence remarked, he would like fellow country men to shrug the “Chalta Hai” attitude in life. Taking a cue from this, it has been well mentioned that Indians might be wrong on occasions, but India as a nation is a gift of civilization. वयम् अत्र सञाता: सर्वॆ अस्माकम् पुन्यम् | - Blessed, we all are, to be fortunate enough to be born in the land called India.

Five minutes to Independence and I think I have said enough. All said and done, it is the spirit of Indianism that is inspiring resurgence, the world over…and it’s about time, Indians acknowledge the fact and take a bow in front of the global audience.

Here’s wishing you all, a very happy Independence Day…Aakhir Dil Hai Hindustani !

Raksha Bandhan

2006-08-09T17:00:00.001+05:30

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this post do not bear any resemblance to the author's personal experiences.

Come, the month of August and the Indian Tri colors are seen everywhere. It is also the month of Janmashtami, with govindaas filling every Gulli of Mumbai, and breaking the tallest Handi is quite an achievement in itself.

But other than these two festivals, there is one other 'major' one, termed Rakhi [no not the dudette with Mika] this one is - Raksha Bandhan, the bond of love between bhaiyya and behna..

I fully endorse the festival as my 'sisters’ regularly send the rakhis by post and I dutifully adorn the same. Rakhis have been used since time immemorial as the symbol of protection awarded by the brothers to their siblings of the opposite gender. For me, they also served as the ornaments on my shoulder for the role of “Lord Krishna” that I portrayed in one of the fancy dress competitions loooooong ago.

Coming to talk of sisters, I never have had any of my own, and so, in standard I, when there was an examination question - “How many sisters do you have?”,I innocently counted up all my first cousins and wrote 10 as the answer..The teacher, gave my mom a “Why do you want to set up a cricket team?” look when she came to collect my report card, and till date my Mom doesn’t know why.

By class 6, the norms were a little different and girls spoke to ‘boys’ only under two considerations:

One, you need to be the class topper, so that they can borrow your notes
Or, you need to be their Rakhi Bhaiyyas so that they are sure of your intentions.

Oh My God, it took me a couple of years after that to get educated about the world and its practices, and till then I continued to remain under the impression that the number of Rakhis on one’s hand were directly proportional to the chivalry that one possessed, very much akin to the Rajput Queens who tied them on the hands of the invaders to save their husbands from being taken prisoners, as taught to us during History lessons.

I even went distributing hair clips (mom’s selection) and a Cadbury’s Relish chocolate to my dear sisters as their rightful gifts. And 5 bucks per head was quite an expensive proposition in the year 1994, for a class 6 student.

Soon it was class 10, and the number of rakhis being tied around guys’ wrists went down, as also the number of bhaiyyas wanting to flaunt the same, though most mothers continued to doubt their sons except when their “rakhi sisters” called up home.

In fact as we moved to college, Raksha Bandhan happened to be declared an informal yet mandatory holiday for the guys gang.

Engineering was quite a different story. I knew girls who ran after guys who they thought were behind them and entangled them in the bond of brotherly love to crush their only hope of passing semester exams. The transformation of the red roses on the day of the college fest to yellow on friendship day and then gradually to white coupled with an Aarti Thali on Raksha Bandhan, was quite traumatic for a few fellow friends.

I’ve also heard of a Management school in Chennai where guys and girls refer to each other as “cousins” among themselves… I know one school where I would not want to study.

The work place is actually a mixed bag. I have received rumors that the freshers’ batch that recently entered the corporate campus has celebrated the festival with pomp and splendor. And apparently there have been a couple of guys who sacrificed themselves to the chains of “brotherly love” for the general good of humanity. God bless the noble souls.

The smart guys are staying away from the canteen to avoid the glimpse of anything that is silvery and shiny..

And to depict the mood of the moment, I am attaching an awesome picture below.

No! it’s not Janmashtami, It’s the setting of Raksha Bandhan…

Orkut Blocked...

2006-08-06T12:53:00.000+05:30

Hmmm. after blogs being blocked, the autocratic censorship at the work place has raised its ugly head again...[well atleast from the point of view of active Orkutters].

Apparently, with the herd of freshers actively using Orkut at work, a decision to block the same was passed by SA, and this made the site inaccessible to 600 odd star employees, thus bringing to a standstill, the breadwinning occupation of these individuals who contributed to the top-lines of the organisation by constant networking through the website, and hence made hunting for prospective customers that much more easier.

However, SA, not appreciating this noble motive, felt that this brought down productivity and increased productivity.

Let me explain..This is actually a double meaning poor joke, that was provided as an explanation by SA.

Me: Hi SA, may i know the main concern that the organisation has with the usage of the harmless orkut?
SA (exhaling three symmetric rings of smoke in the cancer "smoking" zone): Well my friend, it's a clear indication of loss and gain of productivity

Me:Sorry? how can both happen? aren't they antonyms?
SA: No they are not.. See, work wise it's a loss of valuable time, but i heard this site promotes alliances and attracts membership from both the sexes thus forming a matrimonial service productively contributing to the future population of the country

Me: Come on SA, it can't be that bad...We get business on that place..we've found ex CEOs on Orkut.
SA: Really? Probably,it's only that they've found time to log on to the place after they became ex-employees..[another sad one at which I was expected to laugh]

Me: (realising that this ain't heading anywhere)
SA, look at me... I am an active user of the site too...I keep in touch with my long lost friends from school and kindergarten..Else I need to go to the Kumbh Mela every 12 years to find them..I don't have an internet connection at home too...Please have a heart....Orkut Baba will bless you...[Sniff Sniff]..
SA: Okay Okay! stop wetting my tobacco with your tears... Let me see what can be done...

Me: Oh Thank you SA.. A community would be created for you and your collection of PJs on Orkut...You would have a huge fan following from the entire office as the Messiah of communication and the savior of the singles ready to mingle
SA: Ok I think if that be the case something can be worked out..
But till then, you could probably use the time saved from over using the internet, in well, baby-sitting my kid on weekends...

Me: Well, this is not what I had bargained for...But, i believe in Poet Milton's words, "They also serve, who only stand and baby-sit?.."

The flight of the Elephant !

2006-07-27T18:20:00.000+05:30

Well, What do you know? White Elephants flying into the sky, with ears as large as wings, were once considered only a figment of imagination in the Amar Chitra Katha story books that we read as children.

But, now that has happened in reality, with one of my closest friends - Anand (affectionately called aney), flying to the greener pastures of the Divided States of George Bush for pursuing his studies. Another post related to Aney's stunts and adventures can be read here

Even as I type this, I believe Aney is lodged in one of the lounges at Frankfurt airport like Tom Hanks in 'The Terminal'. Fortunately Aney is from India and not Krakozia, so he has all the help required in the name of the President of the Republic of India [picked verbatim from the Indian Passport, which makes me nostalgic for no reason at all, probably in anticipation that some day, I shall be touring distant lands] - By the way, I currently feel that I am in Sri Lanka (No kidding, I recently passed off a Sri Lankan 10 rupee currency to the local bananna seller in Chennai, on account of ignorance).

The only other country that has accepted to take me in for a year, has been the Sultanate of Oman (Muscat), which was quite some time ago...That probably is the topic of another post if and when I visit that country again.

Enough of nostalgia. Getting back to the point, Aney had invited us all for his get together party, which more resembled the engagement of an eligible bachelor. After repeated invites and reminders (most of which were through Orkut) we finally had the get-together on Sunday last, the 23rd of July, which also happens to be my Mom's birthday. I'd like to say 'Happy Birthday Ma', on the sidelines of this post

The groom's side - we a gang of potential kauravas (yes, Anand had invited around a 100 of us) was gearing up for the event on a scale as large as Mayawati's birthday party.

This acted as a precursor to my travelling to Bangalore to be a witness to the extravaganza

The bright lighting of the 100 watt bulbs increased the heat in the A/C hall, bringing memories of the "Vara pooja" ceremony that generally happens on the day before the wedding.

The guests started filling the hall, and the mix spanned across four platforms - The school gang, The plus 2 college gang, the tutions gang and finally the Engineering Gang.

Aney carried his Sony camera like Gabbar Singh adorned his Bullet cartridges in Sholay, and was busy in getting the crowd to interact with each other. But Indians, the way we are, find topics of interesting discussion only among people of the same sex, and very soon, the hall was divided into two categories, like the BMTC buses' seating arrangement, with all the gossipping ladies in the front seats and 'extra' gossipping guys being the back benchers as always.

Probably aney should have utilized my mimicry services to gel the crowd, but who values potential talent anyway? [:)]

Catching up with friends was quite memorable, and the stories down memory lane were refreshed in a jiffy. Right from fighting for place to park tiffin baskets @ lunch hour to running down the corridors for 'the twice a week games' hour, those were the days of "living life - Dil Se".

The fragrance of Masalaa Dosaas and Hot Badam Milk dispersed the gangs and we were soon joined by some late comers who graced the occasion nevertheless.

After all the photu sessions and flashbacks, we parted ways into the chilly Bangalore night, in the anticipation of crossing our paths again in life..

Aney's house, I am told resembled the Yeshwantpur market of late with luggage, luggage and more luggage being cramped into his room.

This is to wish Anand the best of luck in his endeavors, and wait a minute, we were talking of the Engagement, the hot snacks , the bright lights and the kaurava sena. And we all expected Anand to announce something major during the course of the evening akin to the party scence in Gupt, where Bobby Deol's engagement is announced.

But in this case, Someone must have definitely forgotten to invite the bride......:)

Take care Amigo...

NEWS!! Veerappan's accomplice ??

2006-07-25T10:53:00.000+05:30

This piece of news that i picked up from the Bangalore Edition of the Times of India dated 21st July forms an interesting read. Not that the it focusses on Veerappan's aide, but that Indian courts mandate such absurd policies for trials.. read on..truly informative..For a moment I thought we were talking of a high profile accomplice who is all set to enter politics...Nevertheless, I've always wondered : How different is a kennel from a prison ??

Source: TNN

Woof! Veerappan’s aide is a witness

Ittippa Leads A Quiet Life In Bangalore

By Pooja Virendra Kumar/TNN

Bangalore: Whenever the court summons him, he will be there as a witness. A trusted aide of sandalwood smuggler Veerappan, he was arrested for being a part of the sandalwood smuggling pact and was released on a bond of Rs 2,000. Now, he is living a happy, yet, quiet life in a rehabilitation home in Hebbal.
He is Ittippa, the 13-year-old dog, once part of Veerappan’s core gang. His USP was that he could smell sandalwood bark and lead the gang to the spot.
In 1995 when the Kasargod police arrested some of the gang members, Ittippa was also taken into custody along with two other dogs of the gang. The three were kept in a lock-up in a veterinary hospital in Kasargod for three years. While two dogs died of poor health in the lock-up, Ittippa was reduced to a grey stinking mass of flesh due to ill-health.
He was released on health grounds after the Bangalore-based Compassion Unlimited Plus Action (CUPA) intervened and signed the indemnity bond. “As per the bond, whenever the hearing of the case would come up, the dog is to be taken to Kasargod court as a witness,’’ said CUPA secretary Sudha Narayanan. Since 1998, Ittippa has been with CUPA under tight security. “The initial two years we had sent him to CUPA Animal Birth Control Centre in Koramangala as we were scared that he would be taken away from us,’’ Sudha said.
Now, there is a drastic change in his life-style at CUPA. Not getting into trivial fights with his canine peers, is just one of his characteristics. He sits only on his favourite bench in the CUPA garden, eats only mutton and rice and is prompt in his evening exercises.
Does he miss his master whom he has served for so long? He gets pensive and thoughtful at times and flinches in fear even if a hand is raised to stroke him. What it means is anybody’s guess.
* Ittippa was trained for identifying sandalwood tree barks
* His peculiar bark would send a signal to his gang members about the exact location of the trees in the dense forest
* As per the gang’s directions, he would protect the tree by going round in circles and continue barking

What an Ad!

2006-07-18T17:12:00.000+05:30

I have been a great fan of creative advertising and The Club Madras Ad awards, that I had a chance to attend, renewed my interest in the same.

I have a few ad crazy colleagues ( mali )who keep me posted about the latest in the industry and some good quality ads that come their way, both in the print media and on television.

Posted here, is an advertisement for worldspace that depicts the exquisite flavor of waking up in rural India and blends it with famous bands from the rest of the world using a play of words.

What's more? It has the God of Bollywood Music featured in it, A R Rahman! What a legend..

A previous post on the advertising awards is available here

5 weird things I do

2006-07-13T15:14:00.002+05:30

Okie..Here I go...anu has graciously tagged me to her blog and by not responding to this,I dont want to incur the wrath of one of the few people who regularly takes time out to visit my blog, apart from attending to other emergencies like saving America from the clutches of George Bush.

I have been known for quite a few weird things as a kid, many of which deserve a place in the Limca Book of world records [the Guinness Book is underway]. Right from believing that restaurants would lock us in if we did not leave by 21:00, to being conned by my aunt that giving me a bath as a 4 year old kid with goggles on, actually made her blind and save me the embarrasssment[she sourced a pair from God knows where], I've outgrown the days to evolve as a rational human being. bah!

Nevertheless, here I ramble off on 5 weird things I continue to do in no order of priority.

1)Speaking to fellow homo sapiens in the office restroom

I have this uncanny knack of striking a conversation with colleagues 'busy' in the loo. It ranges from just a 'Hi' to discussing the company's H.R. policies at length. I have received different reactions to my pleasantaries from people that makes it even more interesting.While some reciprocate, others look at me as if i had just asked Mallika Sherawat to wear a Salwaar kameez. But my rationale is that when business deals can get signed over mugs of beer, some classified information can also be exchanged,over, ...well, never mind.

2)I make weird 'pop' sounds with my tongue

I have been 'gifted' with this strange habit of popping air bubbles in succession pushing my tongue against the inside of my upper jaw . It can at times sound provocative, but I've tried it outside Sathyam Cinemas and have not been booked for eve teasing. So I guess it's o.k.

3) Making Granny memorize world cup cricket schedules

My Grand mom's interest for cricket is as much as Inzamam-ul-Haq's urge to learn a few correct pronounciations in English, though granny roots for Indian victories and the men in blue have disappointed her on many occasions. But I have made it a point to make her memorize the world cup fixtures (dates) starting from the '99 world cup.
It's a pity she could not remember all the venues per say, and found player names like Motabananzo difficult to recall. Well, even Sunny Gavaskar could not get this Zimbabwean's name right and referred to him as "the young kid" for atleast three consecutive games.Now let me test myself.. Namibia versus Scotland happened on...err... Ajji,please forgive your little Satan..and please pray I dont go to hell for the tortute I have inflicted upon you.

4) Wearing 'lucky' apparel

Inspired by famous success stories of the "luckiness quotient" of clothes I ventured out to explore it's effectiveness. All (well half of most) my Engineering semester Exams were written, with me wearing a navy blue tee shirt and a light blue jean. Now I know why Arvind and Ashvini scored lesser marks than mine. Awwww...the stench !! and they were on the roll calls adjacent to mine.

No, I actually had Surf Excel Suraksha. I continued wearing this combo on the exam days for four continuous semesters, till i passed one paper with the least possible marks...the flip side is that i dint flunk the paper.

Maybe Ganguly needs to change the color of his jersey from light blue to CPM's Red, for a change in his fortune.

5) Composing mimicry and remixing lyrics in the bathroom

Who ever said that inspiration comes best when in the bathroom was dead right about it.Much of my micmicry practice happens during the 'early morning somethings' with my room mate banging the door in frustration. But the resilient individual that I am, I continue with Balamurli Krishna, Vajpayee, Sachin in their characteristic voices that has been recently topped up with composing a remix depicting the recent election results in Tamil Nadu.

The insurance guys are earning a fortune. I've taken extra cover as atleast 50 people i know would want to bash me into a pulp right now for mimicing their voices[P.S.- this includes people @ office and batchmates in College].

My Net insurance worth is 4,000,000. Hard to believe, eh? The point is that the currency in usage is Japanese Yen.

Meanwhile Shekar Suman ki Jai Ho and Jhonny Lever Zindabaad.

Maybe I should quit my job and start performing Stage shows...Pretty optimistic I guess...

It's I.T.

2006-07-11T16:18:00.000+05:30

After a long time I would want to rant my feelings out on this post, for one main reason. I need to justify the astrology forecast for Sagittarians elaborated in the Deccan Chronicle today. It said, "You will be in a pessimistic state today and speak about your low state to your near and dear. Love life is absent but your property trading may get a boost".

To simulate the atmosphere that would prompt ranting, I have Pankaj Udaas [yes, i missed the 'h' on purpose], singing to me, an extremely heart rendering number with elements of a local bar,lost friend,going astray in life etc. and I find most things applicable to me as per my forecast.

IT [Information Tech] has become more squeezy than ever. Entering the 2+ bracket [no, not the magical 6 figure salaries, just the number of multipliable years of experience], has given this extra aura of responsibility and the urge to prove myself more than Zidane as the Infamous captain of the French team.

The beauty about IT is that the more you crib about it, the more it gets to you, in accordance with Murphy's law. And consistency is the name of the game.
People across companies irrespective of insatiable managers and colleagues as green with envy as the Onida TV ads, are living by the gun pulled by trigger happy westerners who consider Indians as cheap labor in IT sweat shops.

I still cant comprehend the euphoria in Engineering colleges when placement happens.
It's almost as if the glee of getting chained superceeds the pleasure of spending quality time with family and friends.I recollect a prospective match happening immediately on the day of the campus recruitment since the couple believed that being placed in two 'reputed' IT companies now made them capable of achieving the impossible in life.A Professor in college once even warned of being 'purchased' by westerners and succumbing to unreal pressures. The words seem so true now. The tag around the neck is more a realization that Big Brother is watching.

Disposable cash [most of it goes into my 1998 Kinetic that guzzles a litre of pertrol for every kilometre], a plush apartment [ours isn't one], awesome nightlife [ which should be meant for CAT preparations], and a charming companion [a perfect example of Xanadu as far as Chennai is concerned], has prompted many ITians to transform from the 'friendly neighborhood leaky nose and striped shorts' guy to the 'green card holder' eligible bachelor on the roads.

A decent meal at a decent time has not been available since I have been reaching my abode at 11 ish each night for the past week.

Lines of Code, Metrics, 'What's the issue', performance measurement, Customer delighters, Value additions, touch base with vendors, schedule an update meeting, attend the con call,these words of IT lingo ring in the dreams of Software engineers who are now visiting Apollo Hospitals for a complete diagnosis at ages one third that of George Bush. Even as I write this post one poor team member is being held accountable for some change in call timings not being documented in the Minutes of the meeting with "God" err.. the client. Law offenders get off with lesser brickbats.

Meanwhile I salute comrades who have risen above their mundane pursuits and achieved whatever they have desired in life, much in line with the theme of the book " The parable of the pipeline", which challenges the efficacy of status quo and steadiness in one's life.

There is so much more to achieve in life than romancing a computer for over 13 hours a day. Listening to the birds, gardening, Looking at the rising sun in the eye, a few solitary moments on the roof top, with the breeze in the face...the list is endless...It's time to wake up and move on. Time to stop existing and start living!

Time to discover ourselves, as rightly brought out in the following lines :

If a drop of water falls on a lake, it loses its identity.
If it falls on a rose, it shines.
If it falls on a shell, it becomes a pearl.

Moral:- The drop is the same, but the moulding and company, matter.

Ok, I am getting a call for the status update on the capability document now..Back to the Oil Rig like an overworked Ox.

P.S. - The comments made in this post in no way have resemblance to any organisation and is truly a work of fiction.. So, IP lawyers and Brand defenders of IT, please stay out...

An Experience to remember

2006-06-26T11:57:00.000+05:30

It once was, a cold gusty day,
The dry leaves were being blown away
The winds pumped the freshness into my face,
And at once showed me nature’s grace.

I tossed my umbrella into the high sky
And saw the droplets sink into my eyes
The autumn leaves danced with me
In tune with nature’s sound of music

As I was immersed in a world of my own,
Two beautiful eyes looked at me,
She smiled from the place where she stood
And wanted to partake in my glee

When I glanced over my shoulder to look at her,
She moved away with a shy smile,
The stage was set, I thought to myself
And then was prolonged silence for quite a while

We together appreciated nature’s beauty
And were thankful for the precious bounty
Good friends then on we did become
This was the beginning of things to come

For quite some time the camaraderie continued
And that was when things transformed
Feelings of enhanced comfort crept into the friendship
Much higher in plane than just common parlance

This was just a one sided change
And she once said she missed someone in the heart of hearts
As she whispered, I listened to the name
But the syllables uttered put me out of the game.

And as I reconciled to the facts of life,
Finding the much desired solace
I realized that I would no longer sigh
And mustered my courage to ask her why.

I seldom thought just as I spoke
In the bitter cold my breath just froze,
And as words of query filled me up,
The alarm clock, from slumber woke me up

I then looked out of the moist window
Stunned I was at the breath taking view

It was after all, a cold gusty day ,
The dry leaves were being blown away
The winds pumped the freshness into my face,
And at once showed me nature’s grace…..

My New Dwelling!! :)

2006-06-19T13:26:00.000+05:30

I have been keeping you updated about my house shifting plans and finally after intense combing opetations like Walter Devaram of the STF, we zeroed in on a cozy comfy place,after rejecting many that were no better than 'kabootar khanas' [the small openings in old houses where pigeons live].

Friday was the day of the grand shifting and we were as geared up as Ronaldihno's free kick. After burning the midnight oil on Thursday for packing stuff, I woke up at 5 a.m. since the purohitar was to perform pooja at the new dwelling at 6 a.m. sharp.It's interesting to note that, Gauraw with his Hindi and The priest with his tamizh had actually managed to draw out a list of items needed. Things were about to be bungled when Gauraw's "Grihapravesham" was mis understood as "Giripravesham" based on which he was directed to the nearby "Senthil Tours and travels" who organize daily trips to the Annamalai Hills.

With Vermillion smeared on my forehead and a leaky kerosene stove on my kinetic [for conducting the milk boiling ritual], I thundered down the streets of T Nagar, with speeds 1/2500 that of Street Hawk. I was clinging onto my dhoti like dear life, lest I incur the wrath of the moral police who would have imagined that I trying to grab the attention of the damsels with vulgarity.

Nevertheless, the dhoti was important in portraying a clean and 'goody goody' image [Not that we aren't :(chuckle*)]of us in front of our new owner, a style also flaunted by our Hon. Finance Minister Mr. P Chidambaram and Ambi in the movie Anniyan.

A lot of paraphernalia for the pooja were already deposited with the owner who stays two floors below us. Despite this, we had missed out on a few vital components like match boxes,the holy bell, Mango leaves etc.

For an outsider, we were performing so many rituals that we almost appeared as a family that was shifting as against 4 bachelors from the movie 'Satte pe Satta'.

Now came the most daring acts of all. Reader discretion solicited. Clearing the mess that had accumulated over the past two years in the various shelves of the cupboard, kitchen and shoe racks was going to be an arduous task.

The quantum of dust emnating from my suitcases were as much as that of a supernova explosion that would have made even Osama Bin Laden proud. As i rummaged through old documents, I found one lease agreement dating back to the Indus Valley Civilization.

After four hours of focussed effort, there were huge piles of papers, hangers, clothes, water bottles, et. al that more resembled an earthquake survivor's belongings.

Finally we managed to load everything onto a 1952 make matador tempo and set off to the new place, which was on the third floor with no lift.. Here came Mr. Bluestar - The MBA (Moving Benches Around) flat mate's gyan and lingo of Supply Chain Management.

We formed a human chain with one on each floor and employing the services of two labourers, finally managed to shift almost everything while Dr. Vaigasi maintained strict vigil down below. I have a celebrity neighbor in Mr. Illiyaraja, a genius whom I admire for his musical panache.

And as I settle down to go to sleep on my first day in this new place with a blend of the musty odour of paint, dust and distemper, I assure myself that my "Mahal ho Sapno ka" is not far away...