The confessions of a clueless mind

The Future of Cricket

2011-11-17T12:46:00.000+05:30

The Year: 2020.

The Venue: San Juan, Puerto Rico.

The Occasion: World Cup Instant Cricket Finals.

Guatemala Vs Samoa.

An exciting final awaits the 100,000 screaming audiences and the millions watching on their television screens at home. People of all ages and races have come together, putting their differences and hatred for each other aside, for this momentous occasion.

As the cheering grows louder, the two captains take the field. The Guatemalan skipper, in his bright magenta outfit, appears extremely confident of his chances, although the dressing room is full of nervous men in Magenta, biting at their fingernails fearing the backlash from the fanatic supporters back home should they end up losing the finals.

At the other end, the Samoan dressing room is unusually quiet, with all the players, dressed in their traditional leaf-skirt and head-gear attire, bowing down in front of their Chief Shaman as he continues to chant a silent prayer to a Pagan God. The Samoan captain, forced by the racist and ethnically intolerant ICC, is looking uncomfortable in the Fluorescent Green Toga that he has pulled over the leafy-skirt costume wearing which his team had conquered 36 other nations on its way to the finals.

As the match referee throws the Royal Thai Baht in the air, the Guatemalan skipper screams “Heads” while counting the rosary in his hand. The Toga clad Samoan skipper has already launched into a glorious Tribal Dance as an offering of prayer to his Pagan Lord.

“Heads”, screams the Referee as the coin lands on the artificially laid green turf. The Guatemalan skipper collapses on the ground, even as he continues to clutch at the Rosary. The Magenta Men are already running in with loud cheers, and the supporters have already gotten their drums out as they start chanting “Guatemala, the Land of Champions” in sync with the huge Mexican wave that has permeated through the crowds in the stadium.

Amidst the chaos, the cameras move towards the other end of the ground where the Samoan skipper is running towards the exit leading to the parking lot. The cameras catch the skipper casting aside his Toga and looking back every two seconds at the wild Samoan crowd chasing him with skulls and daggers, egged on by the blood-thirsty Head Shaman. The Samoan players, for their part, are also running towards their skipper to protect him from the crazy crowds. Oh, wait….they have the uprooted wickets in their hands, and one of them has just hurled the stump in his hand at his skipper, who luckily evades it even as he jumps straight into a waiting SUV about to speed away from the venue into safer havens.

The media, have already made their way into the stadium, pushing aside the ambulance that was trying to come in to administer CPR to the victorious, albeit fallen, Guatemalan skipper. Half an hour later, amidst great fanfare and media glare, Kim Hughes, ex-captain of a luck-less Australia Cricket team in the 1980s, hands the “World Cup of Instant Cricket” to the Guatemalan Cricket Team. The country goes into delirium. The ultimate moment of triumph. The sweet culmination of years of hard work. The perfect gratification for the sweat and toil that the team and the management put in for over 20 years.

It was all worth it. The World was conquered. 2020- Guatemala, World Champions.

As the Guatemalan flag is hoisted higher than the flags of the 119 other nations that had participated in this grand event, Sunil Gavaskar sitting in a desolate corner of the stadium reminisces sadly about the evolution of Cricket from a “Colonial Sport” to the World’s most popular “Game”. And the subsequent demise of the traditional powerhouses of the game.

It all started in the late 1970s when a greedy Australian tycoon decided that Test cricket was too boring and long, and had to be shortened in order to appeal to a larger audience. That was the beginning of the One-Day cricket phenomenon, which literally added color to what was previously known as a dour sport meant only for the older and consequently, more sober, audiences. What followed was a series of innovations to make the game more colorful and appealing to a global audience.

Twenty20 caught on in the mid noughties, and went on to displace the 50 Over match as the de-facto standard for international cricket. Spurred by the popularity of the shortened game, the ICC went ahead with more changes in the name of “adding color “. As the innovations continued, the game went from 20 overs-a-side to 10, and then 5, and eventually reached its peak popularity in its current form – Instant Cricket.

With Instant Cricket, the game made its way into every part of the world, and the hitherto virgin nations took to the game like fish to water. As a direct consequence, the erstwhile powerhouses saw their influence diminish. Cricket crazy nations like India and Pakistan, where nearly a billion people used to gamble away their hard earned money on Cricket betting, were left in a lurch, and eventually had to shift their fanatical attention to other sports such as Football. Little did the Indian cricket board, BCCI, realize at the time when they aggressively campaigned for revolutionizing the sport, that their actions were going to come back to bite them where it hurts. And hurt, it did, when India did not even qualify for the World Cup 2020 play-offs from the SAARC region. The proverbial goose that laid the golden egg had been slaughtered in haste. And India had contrived to lose the one sport where it had a semblance of on-field World Domination and was a run-away winner off the field, thanks to a billion passionate fans and their ever-bulging wallets.

Today, as Guatemalans celebrate their maiden World Cup victory, a silent prayer to the colonial powers that laid the foundation of this revolution. The past 20 years has seen the game change from a Gentleman’s game to a common man’s game.

The only complaint, if I may, is that what started off as an attempt to add more color to an already popular game resulted in the game ending up with just color. And nothing else.

And if it matters, the toss still continues to be important. More than it ever did!

Germany 4-1 England: German Blitzkrieg ends English campaign

2010-06-28T11:31:00.003+05:30

Watching England fall to a young German team last night brought back memories of the time when I used to religiously follow the travails of Team India. There are many similarities between the English football team and the Indian cricket team. The popularity they enjoy across the globe, the money they make in comparison to other teams in their sport, the intense scrutiny that their private lives are subjected to by the media, and last but not the least, their continued inability to perform when it matters.

Just like Team India was blessed with superstars like Sachin, Azhar, Dravid, Ganguly, and more recently, Dhoni, Yuvraj, Sehwag etc, the Three Lions also have amidst them some of the most recognizable brand names such as Rooney, Lampard, Gerard, Terry to name a few. Individually, these superstars are considered the best (arguably) in their roles/positions. However, put them in a team together, and they are so abject that it is almost embarrassing to watch them play. Although there are many instances of the Indian cricket team at their abysmal best, since this post is primarily intended to comment on the English performance at the World Cup, I will end the comparisons here. Of course, the intent of the comparison was to drive home a point, and I am sure it has been.

Last night’s match against a young German side highlighted some of the long- standing frailties of the English national team. The way the famed English defense disintegrated towards the end is ample proof that, Fabio Capello and his Italian toughness be damned, the English are fragile when they are under pressure. John Terry and Mathew Upson were caught ball-watching too many times, and as a result, the left-back and the central midfield were drawn out of position leaving gaping holes on the left for a marauding Mueller to first drive the nail in the English coffin, and then hammer it shut beyond any chance for an English resurrection.

The match began well enough with both teams showing passing ability and attacking intent, before the Germans resorted to character and chose to take the Route One for their first goal. John Terry, now more popular for his sleeping exploits off the field, decided to bring some of those talents on the field as well when he decided to take a nap to let a hapless Upson try and stop the towering Klose from scoring. The result was inevitable, and Klose, with one flick of his right leg, put the ball past David James, who was caught in two minds between coming forward to collect the ball and staying back to block the shot.

The second goal from Germany was a work of art, with Podolski drilling a fine left footed shot past David James. Podolski, a Bayern cast-away currently plying his trade at lowly FC Cologne where he scored 4 goals all season, showed once again that success or failure in club football may not mean much at a World Cup. Wayne Rooney and his English colleagues will serve as bright examples in support.

The English revival through an Upson goal was just reward for their industry and when Lampard’s shot crossed the goal-line, the revival was complete. Or so everyone thought. Except the referee and his assistant who ruled that the ball had not crossed the goal line. FIFA and its weird ways are beyond explanation.

The second half began with England pushing all the way for the equalizer, and despite another Lampard effort crashing against the post, there was no respite for them. As they committed all their men forward at set-pieces, the German’s decided to teach a footballing lesson in counter-attack. The English, due to a combination of exhaustion and lack of desire, did not do enough to track back and close down the flanks when the German’s surged forward, and a 20 year old Thomas Mueller, playing on the right just behind the center forward, duly obliged with a well taken brace.

The last few minutes after the German blitzkrieg seemed like an ordeal for the Englishmen who were, understandably, in no mood for anymore fight. When the referee blew his whistle ending what turned out to be rout, Fabio Capello and his team were left to rue what could have been had the Referee not “screwed” them with the disallowed goal.

With yet another early exit from a World Cup, the “Golden Generation” of English football has probably played their last World Cup, without winning any major trophy at international level. The trial by media now begins. The likes of Wayne Rooney and Steven Gerard will find new challenges and controversies to get embroiled in, to take the attention away from this failure. A certain John Terry and his pal Ashley Cole would be getting together to discuss their new partnership, as the rest of their team-mates at Chelsea FC hold on to their wives and girlfriends even harder in these times of distress.

The Wonder Years

2010-06-13T07:14:00.001+05:30

Every generation has a golden era. For my generation, it was the 90's. Most kids on the cusp of adoloscence found their calling in the eventful period that preceded the Y2K euphoria.

As a bunch of early teens just discovering the birds and the bees, the 90's heralded an exciting phase in our boyz-to-men journey. Coupled with the changing political and economical situation in the country, the period was significant for the various influences it had on us.

As India, under the able yet eventually discredited P.V. Narasimha Rao, opened its doors to the world in a clear cry of capitalism, the first noticeable change in our lives was the advent of satellite TV. For a bunch that found its entertainment in a single channel on the state run Doordarshan for years, the sudden exposure to a variety of international channels, and the liberal dose of skinshow that they brought along, was a shock that took a while to adjust to. The influences of those early days, after a long period of latency, is now clearly seen in the way the youth of today dress.

The exposure to Satellite channels also opened the doors to international pop music, and as we later found out, so many other genres of music that we had previously never known to exist and had therefore, grouped under the convenient umbrella of Pop music. Out went the tapes of Mukesh, Rafi, Latha, Kishore etc, and in came the likes of Michael Jackson, GNR, Def Leppard, Eric Clapton, Bryan Adams etc. The period also saw the advent of the Remix music. Old Hindi classics, that had lost ground to the more appealing International music genres, resurfaced in a new remixed avatar, the most notable being Bally Sagoo's remixed version of "Chura Liya" which became a rage during the times.

This period during the early 90s is also memorable, for my generation, for the adoloscent crushes and the experience of first-love. The song "Pehla Nasha", from the classic JJWS, could not have come at a more apt time and became the anthem for all kids my age. The song, till date, continues to be the perfect ode to teenagers experiencing the magical sensations of first love.

The mid 90s heralded the beginning of a new wave of Bollywood movies. The industry had already started to move away from the abhorable stereotypes of the 80s, thanks to movies such as QSQT, Maine Pyaar Kiya, Hum Aapke Hain Koun etc. The baton had already been passed from the previous generation of superstars to the new one. In 1995, when Shah Rukh Khan played his now legendary character of Raj in DDLJ against Kajol's Simran, the Bollywood transformation was complete. SRK became the superstar and Yashraj films found their formula to a fortune.

In 1998, when a debutante director Karan Johar announced his arrival with "Kuch Kuch Hota Hai", made clearly using the Yashraj formula, the whole country laughed and cried with SRK, Kajol and Rani. With a generous dose of heavy duty emotions, and a world devoid of petty issues such as poverty and crime, the Yashraj- Johar formula offered the audience a chance to dream of a world that they would love to be a part of. The formula was used over and over again, and continues to be used, mostly to great effect since the movie going majority in India and the NRI population abroad just don't seem to tire watching rich people and their merry making, with a dash of tragedy and romance, and embellished with melodious music and fashionable clothes that also facilitate liberal skin show.

As the decade came to a close, my generation had also completed the metamorphosis from the excitable kid to the cynical adult. Student life had given way to professional life, and the innocent dinners at roadside dhabas had been replaced by expensive parties at exotic restaurants and nightclubs. Money and ambition had started to drive our lives, and we had no time for the simple joys anymore.

As the nineties gave in to the new Millennium, it also marked the end of an era- of innocence, romance, passion and self-discovery. Fond memories and strong influences of the era continue to shape our lives even today, and as an entire generation that found its calling in the 90s will agree with me, those were the days of our lives. For us, those were the "Wonder Years".

3 Idiots- The Review

2010-06-09T21:28:00.002+05:30

At long last, after the whole world, and then some, has already watched it, I finally managed to watch the year's biggest hit "3 Idiots". On my laptop, mind you. Yet, despite the constraints of the medium, the sheer magnificence of the movie remained unmitigated.

There are very few movies that can be called perfect. Even a classic like "Rang De Basanti" had its share of detractors dismissing it to be too preachy and impractical. This latest offering from Rajkumar Hirani, however, is flawless. I know I am sounding like a fresh-off-the-boat fanboy here, but truth be told- the movie is perfect.

While there are conflicting views on how much of the script is based on Chetan Bhagat's novel, and since I have not read "Five Point Someone" myself, I'll be generous and give complete credit to Hirani and his team for such an engaging story and screenplay. Despite the obvious temptation to make it preachy, the director manages to keep it breezy and witty. The messages are all there, but cleverly packaged amidst some very funny situations and one-liners.

Among the 3 idiots, Aamir as Rancho sleepwalks through a role that he has played so many times to perfection in the past decade (Dil Chahta Hai, Rang De Basanti). It is to his immense credit that, at 44, he can still convincingly play a 22 year old. However, it is not an act that deserves a "Best Actor" award. But, knowing how the awards work, I would be surprised if Aamir doesn't win most of the awards. It is ironic considering that Aamir never won the awards for the movies when he really deserved them, back in the early 90s (Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikander, Hum Hain Rahi Pyaar Ke etc).

Madhavan, as Farhan, the wildlife-photographer-trapped-in-an-engineer's body, plays his role well although the real revelation is the 3rd idiot, Sharman Joshi. Sharman as Raju, a lower middle class youth carrying the weight of his family's expectations, is the best actor among the three. He displays great maturity in portraying the phobia-ridden Raju who is forced to choose between his family's expectations from him and his loyalty to his friends. If anybody deserves an award, it is Sharman although it is technically only a supporting role.

Kareena deserves a mention for the freshness and exuberance that she brings to every scene that she is in. Boman Irani, reprising his obnoxious dean role from "Munnabhai MBBS", does perfect justice although he risks becoming typecast in such roles.

A special mention for Omi Vaidya, who plays Chatur Ramalingam or "The Silencer", the hyper-competitive NRI kid who is a diametric opposite to Rancho, and who detests Rancho's philosophy of "Learn to excel, and not just learn to succeed". Chatur, on the other hand, believes in toeing the oft-trodden path and champions the "learning by rote" idea. In many ways, Chatur represents the Indian education system, and its over-emphasis on grades and bookish knowledge without regard for the application of the knowledge. The annual day scene where Rancho messes up Chatur's script, leading to a hilarious speech very aptly brings out the point about learning without understanding.

The movie comes a full circle when the rest of the protagonists eventually find Rancho, who had absconded for 10 years after graduating from Engineering, in a remote village in Ladakh to realize that he is actually somebody else- an elusive scientist named Phunsukh Wangdo, who is sought by American (Chatur represents the American interest) and Japanese industrialists for his 400+ patents. When Chatur finally accepts defeat and strips to his innerwear to offer his salutation, in the characteristic college style, and goes "Jahanpanah, tussi great ho, Tofu kabool karo" in his inimitable accent, you know that "All izz Well". Indeed.

Masterful!

Book Pyaas

2010-05-11T13:26:00.001+05:30

Everyone I know, and their uncles, have either recently published a book or in the process of writing one. Clearly, authoring a book is the "in" thing this season. He has done it, she is doing it. And if everyone is doing it, I too must jump on the bandwagon.

The only thing I need now is the genre, theme and topic to start penning my future best seller. I have thought of a few genres to begin with.

I could try my luck with fiction since I do have a mean imagination. However, I don't quite have the ability to sensationalize the mundane, which is a must-have for fiction. Also, I believe in using the least number of words to put forward a point, which clearly does not agree with the fiction genre. Further, fiction requires the author to ramble on for pages describing the scene to create a vivid imagery. I, on the other hand, do not delve on imagery and would rather jump straight into the plot. Clearly, fiction is not for me.

Which leads me to consider writing non-fiction. Maybe a celebrity biography. But then that might require me to do a lot of research. I don't mind research normally but I am not particularly fond of reading gossip columns and spicy magazines since that’s where all the juice about celebrities can be found. Also, biographies can attract controversy, and I am currently not looking to become a millionaire this early.

The only non-fiction that I could contemplate attempting is about my own life. The good part about that is most of the research material is already in my head. And whatever else I need to know about myself I can find out from my friends, and more so, from my enemies. However, at my tender age, I do not have too many interesting experiences in life to fill up a book and therefore, non-fiction must wait.

Having ruled the two main genres out, I am left with few options. I could attempt to write an extended commentary on the geo-political landscape in India, examining the various factors responsible for how the country turned out, and also evaluating what could have been if certain things about the country could have been corrected before it was too late. It could be a life-changing experience for me as an author, but chances are that it could also be a life-changing experience for me in general. In India, certain topics are taboo, and I am not too sure if I want to attempt a topic that can put life and property at risk. So this too, I shall have to pass.

The only remaining options are humor and sports. I love sports and am fairly knowledgeable about most sports. I can also conjure some wicked humor. And in India, sports offers immense opportunities for humor- the IPL drama, the Indian Hockey federation and its constant squabbles with the players, Sania Mirza and her love life, etc. Clearly, there is much fodder for me to chew on. And I can even venture overseas occasionally to munch on some EPL, La Liga, Seria A, MLS dope- the likes of John Terry , Cashley Cole and the WAGs contingent are born to be made fun of. The Galactico circus in Madrid offers great potential for comedy as well.

This is great. I think I can already see a book coming up. And nobody who has ever played a sport will be spared.

On a closing note, shouldn't it be safer to make fun of an athlete since he/she is expected to be a good sport anyway?

Housefull - The Return of the King

2010-05-10T22:09:00.004+05:30

This past Saturday, we caught the evening show of “Housefull”. After nearly 3 hours of continuous entertainment, we walked out with a smile on our faces. “Housefull” will remain memorable for years to come.

With an impressive ensemble star cast of Akshay Kumar, Deepika Padukone, Riteish Deshmukh, Lara Dutta and Arjun Rampal, director Sajid Khan has managed to pull off mind-boggling action with mind-numbing comedy, in what is a thoroughly entertaining journey into madness and absurdity. The movie does not even attempt to pretend to be an intelligent movie, and clearly calls for the audience to “leave your brains at home” to be entertained.

The story, in short, is about a man (Akshay) looking to find true love to turn his bad luck into good. In this pursuit, he marries Jiah Khan, only to find out she loves someone else. True love then makes an entry in the form of the leggy Deepika Padukone, and the rest of the movie is all about how Akshay, with the help of Riteish and Lara, manage to convince Deepika's brother (Arjun Rampal) for his consent. In the process, Lara and Riteish also have their own sub-plots, to add to the confusion, leading to a crowded climax and happy ending.

There are many great performances in the movie, not the least of which is the short yet impactful “Blink and Miss” performance of Jiah Khan. It takes a “big heart” to accept an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, bit-part role, and yet manage to display such immense talents. Yes, Jiah has indeed outdone herself, as well as the other two girls- Deepika and Lara. It amazes me how such a petite, gentle girl can possess such immense talents. At times, you wonder how she could keep such talents suppressed all this while, and how she could suddenly pull-off such a well-rounded performance. One also wonders if one can really be born with such talents, or if these are acquired ones. Regardless, she has used her talents well to bounce back from the debacle of her debut movie. Especially in the scene when she emerges from the sea to Akshay’s amazement. Jiah’s scenes are the “Mind-Boggling Action” scenes, in case anyone wondered.

The rest of the movie is all Mind-Numbing. Clearly, this is in the “Singh is King” mould, and uses a generous dash of slapstick to cover up the lack of real humor. Nevertheless, when you have actors like Akshay and Riteish, you can pull off even slapstick and make it seem fun. The scene where Akshay brings home a Tiger is funny, although clearly devoid of sense, for the intelligence use of word-play. Likewise when Riteish word-plays on "Phone-Tubble" in a rare show of actual intelligence from the script-writers.

Akshay Kumar finally returns to his forte, after a less than satisfactory report card last year, in his role as a jinxed loser. He is so pathetic that a Casino actually hires him to jinx a winning table to cover its losses. It’s zany for someone to actually think of such a job, but trust Sajid Khan to think of exactly such zany stuff. Riteish has carved a niche for himself playing the funny side-kick to the hero, and is a natural in his role as Babu Rao a.k.a. Bob, a dealer at a Casino in the

. Arjun Rampal is strictly tolerable as an Intelligence Officer cum over protective and suspecting brother of Deepika.

Among the girls, Lara turns in a fine performance, and is both funny and sexy. Deepika is hot and pretty, but acting, clearly, is not in her genes. As regards Jiah, where do I start? She is truly an asset. Or two.

The rest of the cast is competent- Boman Irani, Lilette Dubey, Randhir Kapoor, Chunky Pandey and the British Royalty Look-alikes. Special mention for Chunkey- he is quite a charmer as Aakhri Pasta, the flirtatious but well-meaning Italiano.

In short, Houseful is a fun movie, and a great weekend watch, especially after (or even better, with) some beer. Strictly frivolous and completely wacky- Akshay Kumar is certainly back. And the two Sajids (Producer and Director) are laughing all the way to the bank.

As for me, it is a memorable movie as this was Vivaan’s first movie in a theatre. Not only was he well-behaved, but also quite enjoyed it. The scene with the Tiger was his highlight of the movie. As a family, we enjoyed the movie thoroughly. I had my own reasons.
For Vivaan, it was the Tiger. For now.

Smart or Intelligent- The Consulting Question

2010-05-10T11:06:00.002+05:30

There is a common misconception, that being smart is the same as being intelligent. While there are many situations when the two might converge, there is still a clear difference between the two traits.

I have often come across “Smart Consultants” who have a fantastic way with words, and can paint a picture out of the most mundane things. They can handle customer situations very deftly, and can "smartly" contain many situations from getting out of hand.

However, most of the times, they don't deliver, in the most objective sense of the word. A smart consultant will find a way to evade blame or accountability without really addressing the core problem. They can, with their mumbo-jumbo, confuse the client to a point where the customer starts doubting his or her own understanding of the situation. In the “convince or confuse” debate, the smart consultant, more often than not, chooses the latter.

If consultants are paid purely for the time they spend in engaging the customer, a smart consultant is the ideal employee to have.

However, with the Management Consulting world converging with the Business Consulting world that the likes of Accenture and IBM have found their niche in, the pure-play Management Consulting industry would soon have to move away from its tried and tested Time & Material commercial model to a fixed price delivery based model, in order to keep pace with the bigger, full-services consulting players.

The need of the hour, therefore, is to breed "Intelligent Consultants". This is a breed that differs from the Smart Consultants in the fact that their objective is to solve the problem, regardless of the dependencies and challenges. An Intelligent Consultant is driven by the need to deliver in the least amount of time and effort, since he or she is paid on the end result rather than the time they put in.

As customers have started to realize their historically wasteful spend on Management Consultants, who focus more on identifying the problems rather than envisioning solutions, there is a clear role for the Intelligent Consultant to play.

Armed with traits such as empathy, ownership and accountability, an Intelligent Consultant would solely focus on the end product and, in the process, will own and drive all the intermediate activities. While he or she will identify the risks, there will not be any risks transferred to other parties. Instead, he or she would drive the risk mitigation strategy to closure. As opposed to a Smart Consultant who would look at the problem at hand in terms of what is in his or her scope and what are the out of scope activities, for an Intelligent Consultant, the problem is the scope and the scope is the problem.

Of course, some of the traits of a Smart Consultant are still very important even within the Intelligent Consultant realm, specifically the ability to engage the customer and manage expectations. However, these traits would have to be applied in collaboration with the other traits that I have discussed in my previous paragraphs, to truly add value to a customer.

In conclusion, in the battle between the smart and intelligent, I am going to put my smart money on the intelligent ones. Aren't you convinced yet?

Looking the part - My issues with Age

2009-12-14T14:57:00.006+05:30

People tell me I look younger than I am. Normally I'd be thrilled to hear that, but not when it comes from a client in a professional context. This has happened to me at least 4 times in the past month.

I was in KL a couple of days last month on a few meetings. At one of these meetings, when I was introducing myself and talking about my near 10 year experience, one of the ladies quipped “You look like you have just passed out of college. You don’t look like you have been working for all these years”. And the guy along with her added, “Are you counting your part-time on-campus experience as well?”. If you have interacted with Chinese people, you’ll know that they betray zero emotion when they speak. More so with Chinese from Singapore/ Malaysia who are so “kiasu” that they are very measured and economic even in showing emotions. Which is why I am unsure if all the comments on my age were intended to make me feel good or bad. I was, therefore, left wondering and had to excuse myself with a sheepish grin that gave away as much emotions as I received from both of them. I can be kiasu too, you know, when I want to.

Next, I had a meeting with a Malay gentleman who, while talking about his family, enquired about my personal life. When I told him I have a 2 year old son, he said “It’s good to have young-age kids”. I almost retorted “I know, and always wonder why some people have old-age kids”, before coming to terms with our “me vendor, you customer. Customer is God, and vendor is crap” equation. He continued “In our community, we start having kids very early” . I am sure he also wanted to add “And we never stop”, but left it at that for brevity. Anyways, the point is that he also felt I don’t look my age.

I am sure many of you would think that’s not a bad problem to have, and that I am just blowing my own trumpet here. Something like the clichéd B-school interview situation:

Prospective Employer: What, according to you, is your weakness?

Well-rehearsed B-school Student: Well, I think my biggest weakness is my obsession with perfection. I like everything to be perfect, and cannot understand compromises. Unfortunately, the world is full of mediocre people who are limited by their own capabilities, and as a perfectionist, I find it difficult to accept mediocrity. As a result, I know I will never be the most popular boss around. Sigh, this is my gift, this is my curse. Who am I? I am Spiderman….oops, sorry, I got carried away, but you get the drift.

Now, I am not being that conceited student on B-school campus. I used to be one, but I have out-grown that stage. I honestly feel, in my profession, one needs to look older. In my case, at least, I need to look my age. I always believed that "Age is about putting mind over matter. As long as you don't mind, it doesn't matter". But the Asian mindset demands that you have to look old enough to be able to talk to senior stakeholders. In fact, recently during a proposal presentation, we were shot down, as we later found out, for fielding “not so senior” people. They meant we didn’t have any gray-haired, pot-bellied person on our team. And we didn’t lech. Damn.

I need a make-over.
I am losing hair, and doing nothing about it. But that doesn’t seem to be helping much. I have started to wear ugly, oldish looking spectacles as well. To no avail. I have even tried sporting a beard. I was, instead, made fun of for trying to look like a punk.

Maybe I’ll stop my tennis sessions, and drink myself silly till I get that much-desired pot-belly. Or I’ll go for a hair-transplant procedure and then apply gray hair-dye to look “distinguished”.

Or maybe there's some cream that helps people look older- a "Wrinkle Free" cream that helps people with some free wrinkles for special occasions. I can imagine the ad:

Aamir Khan's 12 year old kid coming out of an adult movie theatre, talking over phone to his friends: Dude, this movie is called Reshma ki Jawani. There's this aunty called Reshma, and she develops an allergy to clothes because of which the poor aunty cannot wear anything. Then one day, when it is raining heavily and Reshma aunty is shivering in the cold (you'll remember she's allergic to clothes),one saintly man helps her stay warm

Friend on the phone: I also wanted to watch the movie, but the man at the counter said I look too young to watch such movies.

Aamir Khan's kid: I have the perfect solution for you. S'Oreal Wrinkle Free cream. Makes me look older than my dad. And we are the same height anyway.

Any other suggestions, anyone?

Kaminey- The Critique

2009-08-28T15:37:00.004+05:30

Kaminey has easily been the best reviewed movie of recent times among the Bollywood lot. Almost all the reviewers have been unanimous in their rating of the movie, and have been unabashed in their praises. Clearly, everyone seems to agree that Vishal Bharadwaj has a masterpiece on his hands. And Shahid Kapoor has arrived.

Amidst all the euphoria and with great expectations, I watched Kaminey here in Singapore. Incidentally, this is my first movie in a theatre here for over a year, thanks to our little son who threatens to embarrass us every time we attempt to parade him in public.

Since the plot and the characters have been described in lurid details in myriad reviews, I’ll save myself and the readers the trouble. Instead, I’ll play the critic.

The movie, undoubtedly, is in a genre of its own. Or if you include Hollywood, this would be the Quentin Tarantino genre. Slick, crisp, pacy, hard-hitting and very contemporary. The movie runs at such a frenetic pace that you don’t want to even sneak out for a toilet break, lest you miss the excitement. Shahid Kapoor as the lisping Charlie is a revelation. His “mein fuh ko fuh bolta hu” is seriously funny, because of the nonchalant dialogue delivery. The character has a certain consistency which very few other Bollywood characters have had. Including his twin brother Guddu, the stutterer.

Guddu, at times, seems to forget his stutter, and cannot convey his angst effectively enough to convince the audience why he detested girls “because they made fun of him”. And Priyanka Chopra’s Sweety, as sweet as she is, seems contrived in her attempt to pretence-stutter to gain Guddu’s love. The whole sub-plot seems inane. Especially Guddu ranting away on Sweety soon after their marriage when he discovers she never really had a stuttering problem.

Despite these minor shortcomings, the movie manages to keep the audience’s glued to their seats, thanks to the eclectic mix of characters that contribute to the plots. Tope Bhau as the gangster-aspiring-to-be-politician is an interesting take on the Raj Thackeray brand of “Marathi Manoos” politics. The Portuguese (or was he Latino?) drug lord and his African henchmen, at best, add to the melee in the end. The Bengali brothers provide some twisted humor, and also jump in to the fray along with everyone else, and their dads, in a “Priyadarshanesque” climax. Which I personally felt let down by.

All in all, a dark movie in the Tarantino mould, with in-your-face dialogues and dance-along music, aided by a sharp story-telling style and crisp editing. If only the director had resisted the temptation to make caricatures of the characters, and cleaned up the cluttered plot just a bit, Kaminey could have gone beyond being just a good film and qualified for a classic.

Alas, it doesn’t, and you come out of the theatre with an empty feeling.

My verdict- Kaminey is like a racy One Night Stand. Been there, done that, walked away, blanked it out.

Michael Jackson- The Legend

2009-08-24T16:56:00.009+05:30

As I saw the news flash at the Breakfast Buffet on the 26th June about Michael Jackson's death, I went blank for a moment since this was truly shocking. But that momentary feeling of loss passed, and I continued with my hectic activities for the day. I was in Chennai for a series of meetings and seminars, and I had too much on my mind to keep me occupied. That, and also the fact that my memories of MJ had, over the years, been relegated to my subconscious mind.

Over the next couple of days, the media went berserk with tributes and dedications to Michael, bringing back the memories from the days when Michael Jackson was a God. Slowly, but surely, the memories that long been banished to the lesser used confines of my mind assumed center-stage. And then it all started coming back.

The King was Dead. Gone forever. Gone too soon.

As a child growing up in the 80’s, I couldn’t escape the Michael Jackson magic despite the fact that I spent most of my early life in a non-descript town with absolutely no exposure to any Western influence, including music.

The year was 1989. One of my friends had accidentally found a 100 rupee bill in the community garbage bin, and to avoid being found out, he was desperate to spend it all the same day. As his partner in crime, I got to accompany him in his spending spree. After treating ourselves to all the chocolates and cool drinks that we could have, we headed to the HMV House to spend the rest of the loot on buying English music cassettes. As we made into the shop and were approached by the store salesman, the only name that came to our minds was Michael Jackson. He was the only name that we knew, since we had heard the older kids in school talk about how “bad” his music was.

We bought “Bad”, and it felt good. After a couple of days of incessant replays of the tape, it felt great. Soon, we were hooked. MJ was God.

During the next 7 years, I must have heard “Thriller”, “Bad” and “Dangerous” at least a few thousand times each. And I truly believed Michael was incomparable. With the advent of Satellite TV in India, MTV made its way into our houses. The very first MTV transmission that I saw way back in December 1991 was, incidentally, the “Black or White” video. The video simply blew my mind. Subsequently, there were new videos from the "Dangerous" album released every 2 months, and I remember staying glued to the TV for hours before an impending new video release for bragging rights next day in school.

When MTV ran a Michael Jackson month in 1993 culminating in a Top 25 Michael Jackson hits, I remember opting out of the rare family get-together at a fine-dining restaurant, not wanting to miss the "Smooth Criminal" video which was aired only on very special occasions. Watching him do the vampire act in “Thriller” or the magician in “Remember the Time” video was truly “edge of the seat” television. The “Smooth Criminal” song and the “Moon Walker” short movie rank as the best ever music video ever made. The 45 degree lean, and the Moon Walk were sheer genius. Those were heady days if you were a MJ fan.

As the years passed, and as my exposure to Western music diversified, I discovered other genres of music which were more fashionable and eclectic, and therefore, Michael had gradually been banished to the archives, and no longer figured in my playlist. Michael Jackson, by then, had also started getting embroiled in the child-molestation scandals, which further alienated him from popular mainstream. His musical career, despite the occasional chartbusters like "Earth Song" and "Blood on the dance floor", had been on the wane, and he was nowhere near as popular as he was during the heydays in the 80s. Most of his albums after "Dangerous" were commercial failures, and the recurring child-molestation allegations exacerbated the situation for Michael further. The tabloids, as always, loved the controversy, and Michael's increasingly odd behavior further fuelled the controversy. Very soon, the media had successfully branded MJ an "oddity that you should protect your kids from".

Although the courts acquitted Michael of the charges of child molestation, Michael was always on trial in the media. And the constant pressure eventually caught up with Michael, and he started to crumble. His face too. The countless plastic surgeries, the nose that just wouldn’t stay stuck, the speculation about the real father of his kids, the failed marriages- everything just seemed to fall apart for Michael.

Unfortunately, the fans that swore undying loyalty, yours truly included, during his hey days simply stopped caring. Although most of us deep down believed that Michael was never guilty of all the child molestation crimes that he was accused of, we just didn’t care to come out in support. And the media, therefore, hounded Michael till it drove him to a drug overdose (unless investigations reveal otherwise) and a tragic death.

The fans, ironically, came out in support of Michael at his funeral in what was probably the biggest spectacle in recent times, bringing an entire city to a halt. The various home videos of Michael playing with Prince Jr, Paris and Blanket, that found their way to YouTube after his death, showed a side of Michael that would have significantly swayed public opinion on his side if only they had been released when he was alive.

Alas, that was not to be, and a beautiful talent just wasted away. The legend, however, lives on.

And I'm sure, in some other world, he is making music in his own special way.

The Pursuit of Happiness

2009-08-24T16:07:00.003+05:30

All your life, you struggle and strive to achieve your goals. And you think that, and only that, is the key to happiness.

You set lofty targets for yourself, and spend your entire youth slogging your butt and selling your soul to get there. For happiness awaits you there, or so you believe.

You forget to stop and smell the roses. You don’t have time for a whiff of fresh air. A casual stroll in the evening is too much time wasted.

An evening with the folks is an opportunity cost.

If you are not living on the edge, you sincerely believe you are wasting too much space.

Relationships are transactional for you, and you do whatever is necessary to keep them alive. Barely.

And finally, you reach there. The happy place.

But alas, there is no happiness that you feel. You are contented. There is certainly relief. But no happiness.

And then you realize happiness does not await you at the destination. It was with you all along the journey. You realize that it is not about the pursuit of happiness, but it's about the happiness in the pursuit.

Every day you come home to a healthy family, you came home to happiness.

Every time you hold your little kid in your arms, you embrace happiness.

Every morning that you wake up to a little kid sitting on your chest with a wide smile revealing all of his 6 teeth, you wake up to happiness.

Every evening that you return home to see your loved ones waiting for you, you come home to happiness.

I know I have many goals to work for. I know some of those I will achieve. And some I won’t.

But I know I am happy. Truly, madly, deeply. Thank you. Amen.

Shantaram- by Gregory David Roberts

2009-04-07T21:51:00.004+05:30

I finally managed to devour all the 933 pages of “Shantaram”, the “autobiography” of Gregory David Roberts. If it was even a part true story, the man is a miracle. Regardless, it is a very well written book, and as long as one doesn’t get too hung up on the veracity of the true accounts that the author narrates, it makes for fantastic reading.

Gregory Roberts, known as Lin on the streets of Mumbai, was an escaped Australian convict, who found a home in Mumbai, where he could finally live a free life. During his years in Mumbai, he made many friends and several enemies, and lost quite a few of them. He also found true love, and lost it to the bitter games that were played in the Mafia background. He worked for the Mumbai mafia, but claimed to have never joined them since he did what he did for the people he believed in, rather than the cause that they represented. The book details Lin’s journey from his arrival in Mumbai, to his life in the Slums and his role as the slum doctor, his tryst with the Mujahideen movement in

Afghanistan

, and finally, his role in establishing the new Mafia in Mumbai. The last chapter, and the closing lines, hints at Lin’s disillusionment with the Mafia life, and his craving to return to his loved ones.

Apart from the plot, what really makes it a worthy read are the little embellishments, the attention to detail, and the author’s way with words. “Shantaram” paints a surreal picture of Mumbai in the 1980s, through its plot and the various characters that appear at many points in the story. The Foreigners that thronged to the elite Leopolds and the slum dwellers have both been accorded equally significant roles in the plot. The drug culture and the Mafia rule during those dark days in the 80s have been beautifully described in near-graphic details. Each character in the story has a distinct personality, and the author paints such a vivid picture that you can almost visualize the characters in life. The character of Prabhakar, the lovable city guide-cum-Taxi driver-cum-best friend, is easily, the most memorable and interesting one. Karla Saaranen, the Swiss-German with a mysterious past, is another fantastic character in the story. Karla has some of the best lines and is easily, the most quotable. Sample this for Karla’s one liners – “Life gives you two choices, the one you should make, and the one you do”, or this - “Luck is what happens to you when fate gets tired of waiting”. Quotable, indeed!

One of the sub-plots revolves around the Afghan Mujahideen movement during the cold war era, when the Afghans, with guerilla support from the CIA, went to war against the invading Russians. It evokes a deep sense of irony, due to the stark contrast with the current situation where the US is struggling to contain the terrorism emanating from the Afghanistan- Pakistan axis of evil. One is tempted to brand it as poetic justice considering the Americans are reaping what they had sowed years ago. Unfortunately, the whole world, and that includes innocent American civilians, are paying the price for the poor judgment from the powers that were in those Cold War years.

Remarkably, despite being a fictional autobiography of a reformed convict, there are some really profound concepts of philosophy and theology that have been discussed in the book. The Resolution Theory that Khader Bhai, the Mafia don and Lin’s Godfather, uses to explain his philosophy of life, and of all things Good and Bad, leaves an impact. The concept of the universe continuously moving towards increasing complexity, with the ultimate complexity being God, is fascinating. He also uses it to lend objectivity to the concepts of Right and Wrong. As per the theory, anything that helps move towards this ultimate complexity is good, and anything that inhibits it is bad. Simple, and yet, fascinating. Khader also delves into the concepts of “crime” and “sin”, and questions why the law-makers and enforcers are obsessed with the “Crime in the Sin”, rather than the “Sin in the crime”. He intelligently ties the two concepts, and explains why, as a Mafia don, he has to do the wrong things for the right reasons.

The book, however, has its flaws. The author tries really hard to make it seem like a true account of the tumultuous years of his life, and in the process, robs the story of its credibility. Despite being involved in many gang wars and of course, the war in Afghanistan, the author constantly claims that he has never killed another human. More than the claim, it is the continuous emphasis on the claim that robs it of its authenticity. The author also clearly reserves the moral high ground for himself, and is always shown to be the most virtuous, in a Bollywood Hero-like way.

There is another improbable sub-plot about a crazed killer who calls himself SAPNA, and goes around the city chopping people up and leaving notes written in blood to claim the kill. Inspired heavily by the “Jack the Ripper” legend, the SAPNA character in this story is half-baked and delusional and is, at best, a poor distraction.

In conclusion, if you have a lot of time at hand, and are game for an engaging journey into the Mumbai of the 1980s, “Shantaram” is just the book for you. It is not perfect, and might not even be a near-true story, but still makes for compelling reading due to the graphic story-telling style of the author, and the roller-coaster ride that it takes you on.

Shantaram, incidentally, was the name given to the protagonist by Prabhakar’s mother, who he comes to love as his own, and is symbolic of a man trying to make peace with his inner demons. In the end, Lin does become “Shantaram”.

The Pink Brigade

2009-02-23T10:10:00.003+05:30

I was pleasantly surprised at how popular the “Consortium of Pub-going, Loose and Forward Women” had become on the internet forums and Social Networking websites. “Pleasantly” not because I advocate the cause, but because it shows that the Indian Woman has finally come of age. She is not afraid to express herself on a public forum, even if it means she has to abase herself as “loose”.

Many of my women friends, from academic and professional circles, have been very vocal in their support for the cause and have proudly proclaimed that they went to a pub on V-day and got themselves drunk silly. And that they sent a clear message to the Shri Ram Sena (SRS) that Indian women are not going to be confined to the age-old traditions of Hindutva by sending their “pink chaddis” to the SRS. That they are no longer a homely, demure and soft-spoken tribe. As opposed to that, they are now a pub-going, loose and forward tribe. Cause for celebration..yippeee!

On a more pragmatic note, the Shri Ram Sena may have been wrong in their methods. They had no business to raid a pub and drive out the women inside. Most of us educated folks do drop in to a pub occasionally, along with our lady friends/partners. That does not make us any less civilized or anti-hindu. And if they are making such a generalization about all pub-going people, they deserve to be chided. And banned, probably. However, based on what I have read, they were targeting the particular pub as it was known to be a popular drug–cum-pickup joint. And despite complaints to the police, no action was taken. And therefore, SRS decided to take the law in its own hands. These are two sides of the story, and therefore, opinions will always be divided.

The media, however, just reveled in yet another opportunity to prove just how bad the Hindus are, and how they are “Talibanizing” India. And the BJP government in Karnataka also had to receive a lot of flak for letting organizations such as SRS flourish in its regime. The public, and more specifically the “Intelligentsia” (you know the educated, pseudo-secular types), came out in support vociferously, asking for the SRS to be banned, among many other demands.

One of the other demands, of course, was the “Consortium blah blah”. And the pink chaddi campaign that followed thereafter. Interestingly, a couple of years ago, an author of international repute, a lady at that, was abused, attacked, molested and threatened with dire consequences if she ever dared to step in India again by a Hyderabad based political organization that works for the betterment of a “minority” community. The Indian government, led by the mighty Congress, cancelled her visa and asked her to leave the country immediately since her presence was disturbing the otherwise peaceful life for this “minority” community. To my knowledge, there were no such Consortium of Pub-going or Pink-chaddi throwing women that raised any voice against this episode.

What’s my point? Well, it is easy to raise a voice against a community that is civilized. Quoting from a recent Life Insurance ad, “Safety hai to sab hero”! But when it comes to standing up against a militant community, Ignorance is bliss. And inaction is a sign of protest, maybe?

Well, the Indian Intelligentsia has always baffled me. But then, I was never very bright.

Wanted: male/handsome/Dead for not less than 250 years

2008-07-28T11:50:00.007+05:30

A few months ago, I came upon an interesting business model. In many ways, this was making money out of nothing. Yes, it is related to faith.

I have this fascination for spirituality and religion, and during one of my explorations, I chanced upon a Buddhist monastery within the central business district of Singapore. For fear of inviting the wrath of certain people with vested interests, I will not reveal any further details about the whereabouts of this place.

Now here is the interesting business model. The monastery makes money out of match-making and wedding ceremonies. What is so unique about that, you may ask. Well, it is unique since the match-making and wedding services are offered, not to young men and women, but to spirits of dead ancestors!

According to ancient Chinese/ Buddhist beliefs, there is a clear hierarchy in the spirit world, and one of the key determinants of where a particular ancestor lies in the hierarchy is his or her marital status. It is believed that, in the spirit world, only the married spirits are allowed to sit at the dinner table, while the unmarried ones have to wait for leftovers. As such, it is not spiritually fulfilling if you are an unmarried ghost!

And so our friends at the monastery offered this unique service of helping such under-privileged spirits move up the hierarchy, and take their rightful place at the dinner table. They contact families of people who died single, and convince them that their dead ancestor needs their help. And thus the database is built. Subsequently, they scan their database of dead people, to find ideal spiritual partners based on the exact specification of the family of a dead ancestor. Once the match is found, and both families have mutually consented to the wedding, the monastery then arranges for the holy matrimony. Soon after, the spirits, as the monastery will tell you, are happily married and enjoying a feast.

Some key benefits of this model:

The sample set to choose your partners from is much wider than in the real world due to the fact that spirits don’t have to be of the same generation. So essentially, your great-great-grand uncle might marry my great-great-great-great-great-not-so-great-grand aunt, and yet not complain that he married an old hag.
If you do not have royal ancestry, it is not too late. Just find an unmarried ancestor’s spirit and get him/her married to a dead royal. And you have blue-blood flowing in your veins. Just like that!
With the number of married spirits increasing, there will be fewer and fewer spirits that have to survive on leftovers from the dinner table. As a direct consequence, there will be fewer hungry spirits that will transcend the spiritual world into the real world in search of food.

While I cannot confirm on the fees that the monastery levies for such unique services, I am guessing that it must be rather handsome considering that the monastery has been flourishing for a little over a hundred years now.

On a lighter note, any guesses what the menu at the heavenly feast could comprise of?
“Ghosht and Spirits”

Lost in Translation

2008-07-28T10:21:00.000+05:30

This past weekend I happened to log on to my Gtalk from my personal laptop at home. Mind you this is a rare privilege granted to me by my wife, who seems to think that marriage gives her complete ownership of my assets and vice versa. That explains why she is always seen with the laptop, while I toy around with the dishes.

Coming back to the original context, as soon as I logged on to Gtalk, my sister-in-law (co-sister, if you are in India, and subscribe to immaculate Indian English) pinged me and quickly typed in a few standard pleasantries. Knowing how challenged she is when it comes to typing at high speeds, I am sure she must have a ready list of pleasantries that she copies and pastes when she wants to make polite conversation with people who don’t really matter. And despite having married her sister, I still qualify for the “people who don’t really matter”.

So after a couple of standard exchanges for the sake of formality, she ordered me to pass a message to my wife to come online. I promptly did so, and while the lady was taking her time to put on a few layers of make-up due to the impending Webcam session, I stayed on just in case the SIL needed company. And here is how the conversation went:

SIL:” So when are you planning to come to India?”
Me: “Soon. Hopefully, we can move back to India for good”
SIL: “Why? Don’t you like Singapore?”
Me: “I am not particularly fond of the place, though there is nothing to hate about it. But with the baby around, I’d prefer to have an extended family for support”
SIL: “Ok, bye”
Me: ”Bye”

Moments later, my wife logs in, and here is the chat trail:

Wife: “Hi”
SIL: ”Are you going through financial crisis?”
Wife: “No. Why?”
SIL: “Your husband wants to move to India because he wants financial support from his in-laws”
Wife: “Damn. Why did I let him out of the kitchen? @#$@@”
SIL: “Tell him we can find him a good job, but not to ask money from in-laws”
Wife: “Sure. Thanks. Bye”

Since then, I have had to sign a restraining order, that I will stay at least 50 feet away from the laptop, and that I will never respond to any messages from any of my wife’s relatives.

Taare Zameen Par - Definitely Watchable

2007-12-25T11:55:00.000+05:30

Last night I watched Aamir Khan’s directorial debut “Taare Zameen Par”, and I can’t stop gushing about it. Easily, it is one of the best movies made in recent times. And kudos to Aamir for letting the kid walk away with all the credit, and underplaying his superstar status very carefully. It takes a lit of humility to rise beyond one’s superstardom and let someone else shine in the spotlight, and Aamir, through TZP, has done just that.

TZP is a very sensitively made movie that highlights the plight of kids who are constantly under pressure to achieve their parents’ ambitions. Darsheel Safary, the kid who essays the role of the dyslexic Ishan, is truly a revelation, and is easily, as Aamir Khan himself claimed, one of the best actors to have graced Bollywood. A lot of reviewers have, while appreciating the overall effort, tried to find faults in Aamir’s direction and editing. The flipbook, which has been repeatedly used in the movie to great effect, has been criticized by some reviewers as being too blatant and overused. However, I personally feel that Aamir has used it perfectly since it illustrates Ishan’s feelings of being separated from his family beautifully, while also highlighting his innate artistic creativity. It almost seems like reviewers want to find faults in a movie just for the heck of it, and to justify their position as “Film Critics”.

Some have also criticized the fairy tale ending where Ishan overcomes his problem with learning alphabets and becomes the darling of the school. However, I feel that, within the constraints of mainstream Bollywood, any ending other than a happy one, would have failed to deliver the message that Aamir was trying to convey; that Dyslexia is curable, with a little bit of patience and a lot of love. Tisca Chopra as Ishan’s mother also deserves a mention for her realistic portrayal of a mother caught between her love for her child and the expectations of a demanding society. All in all, TZP is definitely a movie that is worth watching, and more.

Digressing slightly from TZP, and speaking of Aamir, the movie reinforces my opinion of Aamir as one of the best actors in Bollywood. His command over the medium is truly fantastic, and he has proved time and again that he is a thinking man’s actor, and now, director. Aamir makes movies that make you sit up and think, and if any Indian actor has a serious chance of winning the Oscar, it has to be Aamir. Interestingly though, the tag of King Khan still rests with SRK despite Aamir’s fantastic track record.

Again, personally, I feel Aamir’s movies move you and get you thinking, while Shah Rukh plays to your emotions. Since they come from such different schools of filmmaking, comparing the two and deciding which one is better is unfair to both of them. Aamir is definitely the better actor, while SRK is the better entertainer. And in a country where people have enough problems of their own, an SRK movie that simply entertains them and lets them leave their realities behind will obviously be a bigger draw at the box office. To put the comparison in perspective, Aamir Khan’s forte is his ability to be real, while SRK captures your imagination and lets u dream.

And in a purely commercial sense, dreams are more attractive than reality.

The Life and Times of Leon

2007-12-16T16:18:00.000+05:30

It has been a while since I visited this place, and this blog is close to becoming defunct, just like several of my previous blogs. But I am determined not to let my readers down. Yes, the 3 of you who have kept faith in my blog, and continue to visit this site despite my inactivity.

Since I have nothing really to write about, let me just post an update on the way my life has shaped up since my last post. On the professional front, it has been close to 4 months since I moved to Singapore in a sales role with my company. In these 4 months, I have contributed zilch to the company’s top line, and have really nothing to feel proud about. But I am told this is the norm, and so I continue to motivate myself everyday at work, hoping that good things will happen to those who wait. I have waited 4 months, and it’s about time that some good things start to happen.

On the personal front, however, there is something to smile about. Junior is due in a month’s time, and I am both excited and tense at the same time. That apart, however, living alone is not too much fun. Unlike the old days, this pseudo-bachelorhood comes with only the cons, if you know what I mean. Add to that the fact that Singapore is not a very interesting place, after the first couple of months when you have seen almost everything that there is to see in this small city/country, and whatever else is left is not worth seeing unless you are a willing bachelor. And of course, you can’t drive here since cars are simply unaffordable. Especially if you work for an Indian IT company in a sales role sans the bonus.

In short, life after ISB has been chugging along really slowly, and my career has been posing me a few questions. I have decided to adopt a wait-and-watch approach for now, but it is only a matter of time till my patience runs out, and desperation sets in. Hopefully, as the saying goes, every dog has its day, and this dog is really hungry right now.
Will someone toss me a bone please?

Before I sign off, a hearty congrats to Maverick, one my 3 loyal audience, for making it to the hallowed campus of IIMA. You rock man!

Destiny or Coincidence?

2007-08-23T17:02:00.000+05:30

It is believed among the Hindus that the Himalayas are the abode of the Gods. In fact, Mount Kailash is believed to be the mythological Kailasa where Lord Shiva resides. Accordingly, the Hindus also believe that these mountains are the resting place for the spirits of their dead ancestors. The Hindu association with the mysticism of the Himalayas doesn’t stop at that. It is also believed that one cannot go to the Himalayas until their destined time.
Of course, a pragmatist would dismiss these beliefs as just mumbo-jumbo.

And I set out to do the same as well, when some of us friends went on a Himalayan trek a few months ago. We planned to start our trek from Solang, and go all the way to the Beas Kund, the source of the Beas River, where, as the legend goes, the great Hindu sage Veda Vyas (also known as Beas) wrote the epic Mahabharata. What followed, however, was a series of events that seemed to warn us to not proceed on our expedition. Call it coincidences, or omens. But they did occur.

The first incident happened a day before we were scheduled to start our trek. Right next to our hotel in Solang valley, a new house had been constructed and the house warming rituals were being performed. At about 9PM in the night, 3 of us were sitting on the hotel lawns and observing the rituals in the adjacent house. The Himachali ceremony included a “Spirit Invoking” ritual where a big, burly man in traditional Himachali attire and long, unkempt hair had offered his body for invoking the spirit. We watched the big man gradually become possessed and get into a trance, followed by the customary goat sacrifice. As the possessed man circled the house to ward off the evil spirits from all directions, he suddenly looked up and saw us at a distance. Immediately, he started screaming at us, and began to run in our direction. Although we were initially dismissive of his reaction, when he came almost within striking distance of us, our instincts led us to run and lock ourselves in our room. As much as we hate to admit it, we were all scared. It took us by surprise, and we simply couldn’t understand why the spirit chose to target only us, and not anyone else around.

After calming our nerves, we finally got back to our partying. However, the coincidences just didn’t seem to end. As soon as I raised my scotch glass for a toast, the glass broke in my hand without any provocation. As per Indian traditions, breaking of glass or mirror is considered a bad omen.

Despite knowing that these could be warnings, we didn’t let it deter us from our trek the next day. After braving the sudden rain on our trek up, we finally reached our overnight camping site. Even as we slept after a tiring day in the cold, several of us could hear weird sounds of things moving outside our tents.

The next morning, when we were about to start again on our journey to the Beas Kund, Rach suddenly started feeling dizzy, and had a stinging pain in her stomach. Again, it seemed as if we were being warned not to proceed further. However, Rach decided to brave the pain and continue the climb. After an hour, Rach finally had to give in when she couldn’t continue anymore. After convincing the others to continue, the two of us returned to the base camp. The return journey was also not uneventful. We lost our way a bit, and ended up climbing a real steep hill before realizing that we were on the wrong trail. Surprisingly though, Rach had fully recovered from her illness by the time we reached the foothills.

Finally, when we managed to reach the road and hitch-hike a ride to the town, the local guide who helped us find our way back mentioned that the mountains are guarded by holy spirits, and that the spirits will not allow anyone up the hills unless they are destined to.

In our case, it turned out that we were not. Destiny or coincidence, the fact remains that we encountered a series of obstacles on our way to the Himalayas, and finally, we had to give up. To fight another day*.

Although one can still dismiss this episode as just a series of coincidences, the suddenness and the frequency of these incidents have baffled me. As a pragmatist, I don’t completely subscribe to the concept of destiny yet, but a few more such episodes and I could be convinced to cross-over.

* I might have been turned away this time, but I still harbor hopes of someday scaling the sacred Mt. Kailash and the mystic Manas Sarovar.

India Ahead - The Roadmap for the next 60 years

2007-08-16T11:37:00.000+05:30

Continuing with the Independence Day fervor, my good friend Maverick has an interesting list of things that will make India an icon in the next 60 years. Click here to read the article. While I agree on all of those, I also have a few other points that I think are equally, if not more, important in curing India of its ills.

1. Ban Caste/Religion based politics and policy making

This has been the bane of our system ever since independence. The country has not been able to overcome the strong caste/religion divide, and politicians, in their vote-bank appeasement policies, have exploited this to the hilt. Minority appeasement, for example, has reached such sick proportions that one wonders if it is a crime to be born in the majority community. Further, the lack of a uniform civil code has reduced our secular credentials to a farce. The so-called intelligentsia has always turned a blind eye to such critical issues as these, but pounces upon irrelevant issues to garner press and mileage rather than for any genuine concern for the nation.

2. Mandate based politics, and a move-away from nepotism and dynastic rule

For years, we have been ruled by dynastic leaders who, despite not having done anything to prove their mettle, are allowed to “inherit” power. In a democratic set-up, this is not just an insult to the system, but also a reflection of the lack of political awareness among the voting public. Although we are no longer a kingdom, we still have several fiefdoms thriving in our system. Unless, politics is fought based on progress-oriented mandates, along with a certain minimum accountability to this mandate, India will continue to degenerate in the hands of nepotism and corruption.

3. An honest attempt to weed out corruption

Corruption in public life is no longer scorned at anymore in India because we have grown so used to it. The public has now resigned to the fact that every politician is corrupt and ends up amassing huge wealth for himself/herself. The only expectation from these politicians is that, amidst their personal wealth-amassing spree, they should also ensure some minimum development for the constituencies that they represent. It is sad to see how our expectations of morality and ethics from our leaders have deteriorated. It is sadder to see that our leaders do not meet even these low expectations. In order for a better country, an honest attempt has to be made to eliminate corruption. Corrupt officers and politicians should be punished so severely that it should set an example for others. Yes, it might seem cruel and draw a lot of criticism from our intelligentsia but in the interest of the country, some compromises have to be made. Further, our education system needs to be revamped to instill the right moral and ethical values in our future generations to ensure that our future leaders are governed by a strong sense of ethics.

4. Revamp the Education System in the country

This might seem trivial and out of context, but a country which has such low standards of morality and ethics should start rebuilding from the roots. As a rule, the NCERT has been told not to depict the medieval periods of Indian history as a period of conflict between Hindus and Muslims. Further, the directive also mandates that our history books depict all our leaders/politicians as honest and noble people. In the process, our education system completely defaces our history. And it is a proven fact that nations learn from their history. Evidence of this is in the fact that Germany mandates that its Nazi history must be taught to all its students so that they know about the mistakes that were committed in the past. As a result, future generations can learn from their past, and also develop a sense of moral and ethical righteousness. Unfortunately, our education system has been built on denial, and as a result, our kids are denied the precious opportunity of learning from our past mistakes. A total revamp of the History textbooks is required, and for a change, let the communists and pseudo-secularists not write it this time around.

5. Check the Population menace

As a country, we do not have unlimited resources, and therefore, scarcity is an inevitable truth. The only way to ensure we optimally utilize the scarce resources available is by checking our population growth, both organic and inorganic. Organic growth should be controlled by a combination of education and incentive/disincentive based policies. Education on birth-control and the need for it is critical. The disincentive based population control policies have not been very successful the world over, but China has been fairly successful, and therefore, India should look at some similar policy to curb the population growth. But the key here is that a disincentive based policy will fall flat on its face if it is not complimented by a strong emphasis on education. Inorganic population growth in India is largely due to the illegal immigrants from Bangladesh, Nepal, Tibet etc. A citizen identification number/ social security number system may have to be introduced in India to enable tracing and identifying illegal immigrants.

6. Social Security System

A social security system should be introduced in India to administer state-sponsored welfare benefits. Currently, we read about millions of rupees sanctioned as welfare for victims of floods etc, but it is common knowledge that very little of it actually reaches the victims. This is because there is no traceability of these funds to the victims. A SSN system should alleviate these problems. In addition, this will also help in a gradual elimination of the reservation system that is so rampantly abused in India. To move away from a caste-based reservation to an economic status based reservation system, the SSN system would be ideal to trace and administer the benefits to the economically poor sections. Of course, the implementation of such a system would, in itself, pose a huge challenge.

Most of these points might seem far-fetched in the current times, but these are surely achievable over a 60 year window. After all, how many people in 1947 would have believed that impoverished, Socialist India would become the capitalist, market-driven, billionaire-studded India in 2007?

Change, however improbable it might seem now, will happen. After all, change is the only constant!

Ten Things that make me see “RED”

2007-08-13T17:04:00.000+05:30

As Independent India is about to turn 60, here is a list of 10 things about our country that I absolutely hate, and desperately wish I could change.

10. People who make an appointment, and then forget about it (Some of us are lousy about our punctuality and professionalism).
9. The Bangalore Auto-rickshaw drivers (everything about them makes me see red)
8. People who park their vehicles in front of garages/street corners/congested lanes with no regard to the inconvenience caused to others.
7. People who argue without even attempting to use their brains.
6. The Right Wing Politicians who forget their basic ideology, and put "Jai Maharashtra" above "Jai Hind".
5. The Congress leaders who claim to love their mothers, and yet, at the slightest opportunity, sell their motherland.
4. Communists who live in India and worship China.
3. The ignorant Islamic Fundamentalists, the ones that are taught in the Madarasas that killing non-believers is their path to salvation.
2. The educated Islamic Fundamentalists, the ones that become Doctors and Engineers in our society, and yet behave like barbarians for their blind faith
1. Islamic Modernists like Javed Akhtar and Shabana Azmi who hijack Prime Time television to complain of “Hindu Fundamentalism” when pro-hindu activists raise a voice against MF Hussain painting Hindu Gods in the nude, but conveniently prefer answering Karan Johar’s irrelevant questions when Muslim Fundamentalists openly attack Taslima Nasreen for exercising her freedom of expression, and even issue a Fatwa against her.

After giving it a lot of thought, I resign to the fact that none of these will change in my lifetime. And maybe my future generations will see not only "RED" but also a lot of "GREEN", thanks to our two friendly neighbours. And so I go back to seeking solace in the cliched "Mera Bharat Mahan".

Somethings about us are simply impossible to change. Nevertheless, "Phir bhi dil hai Hindustani".

Get Off "The Wall"

2007-08-13T16:15:00.000+05:30

The Crumbling Wall, The Gaping Hole in the Wall, the Sycophant, Traitor, Toy-Captain, BCCI agent – These are all the names that are being used to describe Rahul Dravid in recent times. You can find these and many more abusive nicknames for Rahul on the Rediff forums where people, especially those hailing from the eastern corner of the country, take it upon themselves to blame Rahul for everything wrong about Indian cricket, and sometimes, about everything wrong about everything in the world.

As an ardent admirer of Rahul Dravid, both for his cricketing talent and his unerring composure and decency, it is appalling to read those abusive comments about our captain. But in a country where each and every one of the one billion plus population thinks he/she is then only authority on Indian cricket, it becomes impossible to please everyone. And just as true is the fact that it is the unhappy lot that makes the most noise, and therefore, it is this abusive section of our cricket fans that make their presence felt everywhere.

It is alleged that Rahul stabbed Saurav in the back by siding with Greg Chappell when Saurav was, not undeservingly, dropped from the team. Our Eastern countrymen very articulately remind the readers that it was Saurav who brought Rahul into the ODI team by making him the wicket-keeper during the 2002-2003 period. In return, they expected Rahul to also have backed Saurav during his time of crisis. When Rahul did not, all hell broke loose. Note that the words “all hell” and “Bengal” can be used interchangeably in this context.

However, these same people seem to forget that Saurav couldn’t have been half as good a skipper if he didn’t have the services of Rahul Dravid. Luckily for Saurav, his captaincy coincided with the best year of some of the stalwarts of the Indian team such as Sachin, Rahul and Laxman. Remember that epic series win over Australia in India, and then the drawn series away to Aussies? Take Rahul’s contribution out, and both those series would have been disastrous. It’s a pity that the same people who revered “The Wall” during Ganguly’s time at the helm have turned so completely against him just because he continued to play well while Saurav lost his form.

Rahul is also solely blamed for the bad performances of the rest of the team, and his ability to motivate players into performing are compared unfavorably to Saurav’s. Frankly, this is Professional International Cricket we are talking about, and not some “gully” cricket that a captain has to motivate and inspire the players to go out there and perform. If Sachin has aged and lost his reflexes, is Dravid to blame?

When Greg Chappell decided to expose Saurav’s “unprofessional behavior” to the BCCI, some people expected Rahul to intervene in Saurav’s support. But Rahul, typical to his character, didn’t. This is where the difference in the personalities of Rahul and Saurav need to be highlighted. Saurav was the proverbial “Maharaja”, a rebel who would make his own rules if he felt the existing ones were not right. Rahul, on the other hand, was the conventional middle-class youth who always played by the rules, and respected authority. Expectedly, Rahul decided not to intervene in the board’s decisions, especially when he knew, just like most non-fanatics, that Saurav’s performances had been abysmal for the past couple of years. Unfortunately, our Bengali brothers do not seem to be able to forgive him for that, and therefore, continue to lambaste Rahul whenever India loses. Interestingly, Rahul gets the blame not only if India plays bad, but also if Saurav plays well. It’s almost a case of “Guilty till proven innocent”.

Personally, I do think Saurav was a better captain than Rahul or Sachin, but his personal form had declined to a point where he was a liability to the team. And it is for this reason that Saurav deserved to be dropped from the team. Now that he is back and also performing decently, there is no reason for anyone to continue harboring ill-feelings towards Rahul for taking over the captaincy from Saurav. The fact remains that the period from 2000 to 2003 was the best period of Indian cricket because all the players were at their peak, and the current team is still some way off that mark. But to blame any one player for that is not just unfair, but plain stupid.

And as a closing shot to all those Ganguly fans who claim that Rahul owes Saurav his career, I think, on the contrary, Saurav owes Rahul all his successes as a captain. And in that same vein, I think it is time now for Saurav to repay the favor by actually starting to help India win some matches under Rahul Dravid.

After all, even “The Wall” could use some reinforcements.

Himesh ka Surroor

2007-08-07T16:35:00.000+05:30

“Ooooooooh Ooooooh………”

If you have lived in India during the last couple of years, you’d recognize that nasal humming instantly. The capped-crusader has been everywhere since early 2005 when Aashiq Banaya Aapne (ABA) was released. That was the first appearance of Himesh, the star.

For those of you who were following Zee’s Sa Re Ga Ma Pa Challenge 2005, you’d know the startling image makeover in Himesh before and after ABA. The shoddy wig gave way to a hep cap. The dumb gujju look had been smartly replaced with a grunge stubble look. The soft, shy Himesh had metamorphosised into an aggressive, confident, vociferous personality. HR had arrived!

Since then, he has gone from strength to strength, churning innumerable hits, as a composer and as a singer. The nasal twang in his voice is very pronounced, but the masses simply loved it, and lapped it up with open arms. The so-called connoisseurs of classic music dismissed HR’s singing as cacophony, and sniggered at his success. But that didn’t deter HR who continued playing to the galleries, and in the process, even notched up a Filmfare Award for best male singer, much to the chagrin of the Bollywood elite.

With so much success, HR had to change, and his arrogance and overtly melodramatic outbursts on the new SRGMP series is rather irritating. Especially when he berates a Pakistani Sufi singer in his Gharana for trying to sing other genres, and screams at the top of his voice “Mujhe tumhare ghar mein roti chahiye”. If that isn’t proof enough of success having gone to his head, he boosts his ego further by carefully promoting his “mystery man” image, that “HR never smiles because of some mysterious reason”, and “HR always wears the cap because of some deeply shrouded secret” etc.

When the suspense and the hype reach proverbial proportions, the egomaniac in HR decides to encash on it by actually making a movie “loosely based on his life”. And yes, he stars in it, composes music, and croons too. What else? And the cap doesn’t come off, contrary to the pre-release hype that HR’s publicity team created about “Watch the movie to find out why HR always has his cap on”.

And so “Aap Ka Surroor- The Moviie. The real luv story” releases to a packed audience. Within a couple of days, all the trade pundits unanimously declare HR’s debut to be a massive hit. The music had already been declared a chart-buster anyways. In short, for HR, the dream just doesn’t seem to end.

The Bollywood hotshots continue to snigger, and bitch about HR’s success as a flash in the pan. They even liken him to Altaf Raja who, a decade ago, churned out one of the biggest hits in Indian music with the interestingly worded “Tum to Tehre Pardesi” and created a rage among the masses only to disappear in a couple of years. The critics simply panned the movie, and dismissed it as trash. In fact, it became fashionable among the sophisticated elite to actually catch a scene from “that ghastly HR movie” and talk about the nightmares that followed since.

With every intention to shred the movie to pieces, and with a deep desire to finally be accepted among the elite, I embarked on the torturous mission of watching “Aap ka Surroor” last weekend. As I waited for those ghastly scenes to haunt me, I realized I actually started liking the movie. HR is not a great actor by any stretch of imagination. But he has done such a fabulous job in creating and nurturing his brooding, eccentric, arrogant, egotistic image that when he does the same act on screen, you don’t find it unnatural anymore. In that sense, HR was definitely decent. The movie had some great locales and the music was very good. All his songs anyway grow on you after you’ve heard them a few times. There are some pretty faces thrown in, and the movie is really slick at just over 2 hours. In short, “Aap Ka Surroor” is definitely watchable.

If you are surprised that I am recommending it after my tirade against HR, let me assure you that I am equally surprised for having recommended it. However, if you are expecting to know why HR wears his cap, the movie doesn’t reveal it. Instead, just watch HR on the “Koffee with Karan” show where he very candidly confesses that the cap is intended to hide is baldness, and nothing else. In fact, the chat show also portrayed HR in a very different light, and HR actually came across as a humble person.

Despite all his eccentric outbursts and odd mannerisms, one cannot deny the man his due. He is the only composer, singer, hero in Bollywood who has been successful at all three at the same time. Not even the great Kishore Kumar can match that.

“Ooooooooh Ooooooh………”

The Psychic Cat

2007-07-26T11:52:00.001+05:30

A cat named Oscar is reported to have the “psychic” ability to sense within hours when someone is about to die at a nursing home in Rhode Island. The cat, apparently, visits the residents of the nursing home regularly, but when it curls up near a particular patient’s bed, the hospital staff and the doctors know that it’s time for them to let the patient’s family know about the impending death.

The doctors at the nursing home acknowledge this unique phenomenon, but refuse to attribute it to psychic powers. Instead, they claim that there must be some biochemical explanation for the cat to be able to detect signals that humans can’t. More details available here.

This episode reminds me of all the horror flicks on TV where the witch/ wizard/ tantrik/ messiah is usually shown to be surrounded by cats because of their ability to sense the supernatural and communicate with a world that is beyond the human realm. In many ways, this cat episode is actually scary because it has blurred the fine line that separates the real world from the world of horror movies.

On a more scientific note, if cats can really communicate with the supernatural forces, then maybe there is a tremendous opportunity for a science or technology to decipher this unique feline ability and translate it into signals or warnings that can help the human world.

The spiritual connotation to this episode cannot be discounted either. The propagators of the “Karma” theory will find new fillip to their argument that the soul is an ethereal entity that is over and above the mortal body. The fact that a cat can sense death could be interpreted as a sighting of the soul (the supernatural) that is about to leave the body (the natural). Innumerable experiments have been conducted in the past to prove the existence of the soul, although nothing conclusive has yet been found. This could trigger the debate all over again.

It’s amazing how a tiny little cat in one corner of the world can potentially impact the way the world thinks. It sure is a weird world.

Indian Idle

2007-07-25T14:57:00.000+05:30

It’s funny the things I do to appear busy at work. Not that anybody cares what I do. Heck, it doesn’t even matter if someone notices because anyways I am going to be evaluated on my sales targets, and not on my utilization levels. But yet, that 6 and half year stint in a delivery role has affected me much more than I give it credit for.

Whenever somebody walks past my cubicle, I feel guilty about not doing any “work”, and immediately open some sales presentation and start staring at it blindly. A couple of minutes later, I am back to my browsing ways when sanity returns to tell me that I don’t have to show to anyone that I am working. But this episode has been repeating so many times over the past couple of weeks that I am sure most of my colleagues have branded me the "Indian Idle".

It’s not that I am not trying to work. I am. I have read through tomes of collaterals, and presentations. I have met quite a few people within the organization to understand the practices, and continue to set up meetings with more. I was also on a 3 day residential training program, where I was one of the most active and vociferous participants. In between all this, I was also running around to get my travel documents in place. So clearly, I have done all that I could to earn my pay package, although it doesn’t seem all that obvious.

And that’s not all. I have even interviewed with a professor from Penn State for his Organizational Theory research paper on MindTree. The interview experience was quite interesting. The professor, after promising confidentiality and seeking my consent, recorded the interview for future consumption. The content of the interview was a colorful mix of my take on the organization’s strategy, about what it has done right and what it can do better, and how it should position itself for the future. Of course, all this heavy duty content was carefully packaged in a good bit of b-school jargon, although not with any intention to show-off but purely in the interest of conciseness and brevity. At the end of it, he also spoke to me about ISB and the faculty that came to teach our batch. All in all, it felt good to talk to a B-school professor again, and hopefully, I convinced him enough to accept the offer to teach at ISB the next time ISB approaches him.

Coming back to the original topic of this post, I know I am definitely under-worked, and thanks to my “utilization” oriented conditioning, I can’t help feeling guilty about it. But it is also true that I have been over-worked several times in my career, but never over-compensated. Considering the overall picture, I guess I can afford to sleep peacefully with the knowledge that, although I may not be generating any operating revenues right away, I am a “real option” for the future.

Till such time that the organization exercises this real option, I might as well enjoy my charmed life. I love "Options Thinking".

Crossing another milestone. Grudgingly.

2007-07-23T16:02:00.000+05:30

There was a time, not too long ago, when I would read Archie comics and think, “Someday, I’m gonna be doing the exact same things”. I was really looking forward to the teenage years, and all the rebellion and fun that came along. One fine day, I woke up and found myself having grown past the teens, without really passing through it. The rebellious streak, the fun and frolic, the dangerous lifestyle- I never saw that in my teens.

As I was struggling to come to terms with the situation, I started empathizing with the “20 something” characters, usually portrayed as a combination of a career-oriented professional and a social butterfly. For a brief while, I thought I was living that character. But, something always seemed amiss. The experience was good, but it never seemed complete. The proverbial “20 somethings” were always more successful, had better social skills, were in more interesting professions etc.

By the time I decided that my life needed a serious revamp, I was almost running on empty tank. My membership in the exclusive “20 something” club had almost expired. But mentally, I wouldn’t give up, or give in. I would invariably relate to every youth story, be it in the movies or the books. I would always count myself in the “20 something” club, as one of its most ardent and active members. I desperately tried to hold on to it, but it simply kept slipping away.

In a couple of days’ time, my membership will come up for review. Unfortunately for me, there is no policy of renewal. As I count my last couple of days among the elite company, I reminisce some of the most memorable days of my youth. I am also trying to come to terms with the fact that in a country that boasts of a majority youth population, I will be relegated to the minority.

The spirit is definitely willing, but the flesh is surely weaker. And it shows. Of course, in my defense, age is, afterall, a question of mind over matter.
As long as I don’t mind, it shouldn’t matter.
On that happy note, signing off.

“18 till I Die, Gonna be 18 till I Die,
Feels so good, to be alive, 18 till I Die,
Someday I’ll be 18, going on 65,
18 till I Die, Gonna be 18 till I Die”

God bless Bryan Adams for giving me my song. Amen.

B-school Interview Tips

2007-07-23T11:32:00.000+05:30

Location: Interview Room at ISB, Hyderabad
Scene: Top IT MNC (Firm X) conducting placement interviews
Characters: Top honcho (code name Wolf) from Strategy Consulting Division at Firm X, prospective candidate (code name Leo)

Wolf: Good Morning Leo, I see you have a very impressive CV
Leo: Good Morning, and thanks
Wolf: First up, let me clarify that we don’t really do pure-play strategy consulting. We only do the IT strategy. So don’t expect us to do what a McK or BCG would do.
Leo: (thinking to himself “tell me something I don’t know”) Yes, I understand
Wolf: Leo, I see you have worked with Firm X before you came to B-school. And you have been there longer than I have. That’s good to know
Leo: (Beaming with pride) Well, yes. I have had a really good stint at Firm X, and look forward to getting back real soon.
Wolf: Well, since you’re an ex-employee, I won’t have to explain how we work as an organization. That’s good. But at the same time, I can’t sell you the organization as I would for other candidates because you know us too well. That’s not too good.
Leo: (confused and muttering to himself “WTF”)
Wolf: I don’t think an interview is needed here. Let me quickly make you an offer. I am willing to pay you Rs.## per annum. How does that sound?
Leo: (Too shocked to respond) Umm, was that per annum? Or are you sure?
Wolf: Since you are an ex-employee, I wanted to give you a better deal. So yes, it is per annum. You must be surprised!
Leo: (Slowly recovering from the shock) Well, I am surprised, yes. Shocked, however, would be a more apt word.
Wolf: (muttering to himself)
Leo: My peers in the organization, even without an MBA, are earning more than what you just offered me. If I had simply stayed back, I am sure I would have got an offer higher than Rs.##
Wolf: (Clearly offended at Leo’s impudence) Well, your past experience doesn’t really match the job that you have applied for. So I don’t see why I should pay you any more that what I offered.
Leo: Well, the MBA is exactly intended for that. So that I could get into different roles than what I was previously doing. Anyways, during the PPT, the minimum salary announced was higher than what you just offered. And that was for a fresher.
Wolf: (Irritated and agitated) Whoever did that PPT has no idea about my division. He can say what he wants, but this is my offer. For someone with no ERP experience, I don’t see why I should pay you for your experience.
Leo: Because I haven’t applied for the role of an ERP Consultant. That interview is happening in the adjacent room. This was supposed to be for Strategy Consulting, and I am here for you to interview me on my Strategy Consulting skills. So why don’t you go ahead and interview me instead?
Wolf: I don’t need to interview you. I know there are dozens of people who have worked in companies like TCS, Wipro, Infy etc who’d give an arm and more to work with us, just to get the Firm X brand on the CVs.
Leo: Well, all I can say is, all the best to you.
Wolf: So what’s your final decision?
Leo: Thanks but no thanks.
Wolf: Wait, let me add an extra 1 lakh joining bonus. Now, you can’t refuse.
Leo: I am flattered, but I don’t want to keep you from those “dozens of eager people”. So the answer is NO.
Wolf: Alright, I know I will loose a few good guys, but I am ok with it because I know there are a lot of people out there waiting to join us. And it’s still early in the day.
Leo: Goodbye

Moral of the story: Loyalty is for the dogs. Especially in IT.

What Kind Of Intelligence Do You Have?

2007-07-17T15:16:00.000+05:30

I took the quiz and found that my intelligence type doesnt suit the job I have taken up. Time for a career change?

Your Dominant Intelligence is Linguistic Intelligence

You are excellent with words and language. You explain yourself well.

An elegant speaker, you can converse well with anyone on the fly.

You are also good at remembering information and convicing someone of your point of view.

A master of creative phrasing and unique words, you enjoy expanding your vocabulary.

You would make a fantastic poet, journalist, writer, teacher, lawyer, politician, or translator.

What Kind of Intelligence Do You Have?

Sonu Nigam Vs Subhash K Jha

2007-07-17T11:54:00.000+05:30

I have always been an ardent advocate of free press. And consequently, I have always loathed the fact that all our so-called top media houses use their well-entrenched network to promote their affiliates (for want of a better word), and vilify their opposition. Some of our most revered newspapers are believed to be unofficial mouthpieces of various political parties. With the advent of 24/7 news channels, the use of media as a tool to promote one's self has only increased several folds. Amidst all these developments, the neutral observer has been left in the dark. The dream of Free and Fair Press seems to remain just that. A dream.

On another tangent, the power of “free press” has been conveniently abused by certain journalists to the extent that they even resort to threatening their victims of a public vilification if the victims don’t comply with their demands. In many ways, this is tantamount to the extortion business that the D-company and the likes have been running for so long, except that the impending damages in this case are more social than physical.

The recent incident of popular singer Sonu Nigam openly accusing reputed film journalist Subhash K Jha of harassment is a classic case in point. Sonu accused Jha of using national press to vilify and criticize him for not complying with Jha’s “homosexual” overtures. Read the whole letter here and here.

Subhash Jha is a very well known journalist in the film industry, and claims to have close personal equations with several top Bollywood personalities, most notably the Bacchan clan, including Aishwarya Rai Bacchan who he cites as his favorite in several of his columns. He is known to promote the people that he personally is friends with, and lambaste everyone else. Among his hate list are top stars such as Shah Rukh Khan, Aamir Khan etc. He is also widely believed to wield significant clout in the industry, and is therefore, considered to be a “Godfather” for budding heroines and, more specifically, heroes.

Sonu claims to have saved the various lewd SMSs that Jha had sent him, expressing his love for the singer, and has appealed to the national media house that employs Jha’s services to take appropriate action against the vengeful scribe. The choice of words in the letter seemed really crafty, where Sonu has carefully ensured that he doesn’t distance his homosexual fans but at the same time he has put his point across that he is not one among them.

As I googled a bit more, I found that Jha is not new to controversies. He was recently found guilty by a film forum of plagiarizing an interview with Quentin Tarantino from a non-commercial blog without giving due credit to the original publisher. When caught, Jha responded with an abusive letter mentioning that he did not know that the interview was published previously on the blog. Interestingly, he didn’t mention where he got the interview transcript from if he didn’t look it up from the blog whose owner actually conducted the interview. Read the entire episode here and here.

To further add credibility to Sonu’s allegations, several other members from the film fraternity have also come out with statements against Jha. Music director Ismail Darbar, who is known to shoot his mouth indiscreetly, called Jha a “third rate journalist” while singer Abhijeet has also come out in open support of Sonu.

It will be interesting to watch how this episode pans out in the days to come. Jha is believed to be considering filing a defamation suit against Sonu, and has even questioned Sonu’s audacity in writing such a letter to him. Interestingly, just a couple of years ago, Jha was known to wax eloquent about Sonu Nigam’s singing and, believe it or not, his acting prowess. Such unabashed praise for Sonu’s acting skills is a dead giveaway about Jha’s ulterior motives. And when Sonu didn’t reciprocate, Jha became a smitten lover, and started to use his pen to abuse the same Sonu that he almost revered till then.

With such irresponsible journalists ruling the roost, freedom of press might seem a very dangerous tool. It gives these power-hungry scribes the right to abuse anyone without any consequences. As it is, our country’s press is run mostly by political parties. If several such incidents occur repeatedly, even the fictitious perception of free press might be revoked.
To ensure such an eventuality does not occur, the online blogger communities and forums should come together actively, and ensure that press, while being free, is also regulated, not by a government body or by an act of law, but by the people who consume the news themselves.

An ode to a friend

2007-07-16T11:52:00.000+05:30

This little poem is inspired by a close friend who is currently trying to shake off some old debris, and looking to settle down at last. If he ever reads this, I am sure he'll know it was for him.

The Casanova

He walks with a swagger, and smiles with a pout,
He wants you to know what it’s really all about,
He shows you all his messages, and makes you read his mails,
He tries to talk in riddles, but gives away his trails.

He calls you at odd times, and begs you to help arrest the damage,
When the women in his life, start to suggest marriage,
All he wants to do, is have a little fun,
But before he even knows it, his life is on the run.

The girls have got his number, they’ve wisened up to his game,
He knows his time is over, that things won’t ever be the same,
He’s looking for your help, to get rid of the grime,
Trying to absolve himself, although guilty of the crime.

He wants to start afresh now, and find the perfect wife,
He is counting on the family, to help resurrect his life,
A girl that isn’t too bright, but doesn’t look bad,
One that hasn’t been through the kind of life he’s had.

Any suggestions on how I can help this good friend would be very welcome :)

The Resurrection

2007-07-16T11:00:00.000+05:30

I am back!
After a really long time, I am attempting to write again. My last post was way back in December last year. Since then, I have tried writing a couple of articles, but decided not to post them on the blog due to certain privacy needs.
Anyways, here is a quick update on how life has shaped up since December 2006.

Got placed at MindTree Consulting in Feb 2007. The placement week at ISB was “interesting”. I have a lot that I want to write about regarding the placement season, but will refrain from elaborating in the interest of the school.
Graduated from ISB in April 2007, and drove back to Bangalore. Embarked on a Himalayan Expedition with a group of ISBians, and spent a good 2 weeks in the Delhi-Punjab-Himachal Pradesh-UP belt. The high-point of the trip was the trek up the Himalayas, including an overnight camp in a cold valley amidst the beautiful snow capped mountains. We also indulged in a lot of adventure sports such as skiing, rock climbing, rappling, river crossing, Paragliding, Whitewater rafting etc. But nothing compares to the adventure of being separated from the group, and lost in the midst of the Himalayas. Whew, that was all the adventure and fun that I can digest for a while!
After returning to Bangalore, spent a good 45 days discovering myself, and just chilling at home. Surprisingly, all my friends claim to have been bored with all the free time on their hands while I always seem to have so much to do and so little free time, despite having almost 2 whole months between graduating and joining work.
Joined MindTree on June 4th, and was put through a fairly rigorous Business Analyst Bootcamp. Made more presentations in 3 weeks than I did during my year at ISB. Was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable I was in addressing audiences. Surely, I have changed.
Right now, I am close to being jobless, waiting for my travel documentation to come through before I can assume my position in the assigned territory. And start delivering. Business Development is a whole new ball game, and I am betting on me to make it a successful career. Any takers?

Hopefully, from now on, I will be more regular with the blogging bit. And have something more interesting to write about than a boring account of my life’s insipid happenings.

Till then, ciao!

Thank You!

2006-12-27T15:10:00.000+05:30

I couldn't have done this without your support.
I owe it to all of you and would like to say Thank You.

Without you, I would not have been named "TIME Magazine's Person of the Year 2006".

Google Fiasco

2006-12-19T09:43:00.000+05:30

The Google experience has left me completely confused. It would be an understatement to call it less than satisfying. I certainly wasn't expecting the interviewer to ask me to explain the detailed algorithm used for AdWords. If I knew it, I would have been in Google already.

He kept prodding me for the exact alogorithm, and what formula can be used for ranking ads in the AdWords product. Despite rattling off all the various ways to improve the ranking, I was still getting nowhere since he was looking for that magical formula. And so the "Aha" moment simply never came. Tough luck.

I guess I was also plain unlucky in the fact that I was being interviewed by a person who worked only on AdWords, and therefore, focussed only on it. All my preparation on the wide variety of Google products simply went waste since he didnt seem interested or aware of most other products that I tried to lead him to.

When he concluded with a "Google is looking for generalists who can work on a variety of things. Unlike some other firms that probably hire a specific Product Manager for Pricing Applications (referring to me), we look for people who can work on everything", all I could say was, "Thank You and Goodnight!".

Not the best first interview at ISB. For sure.
If this is a sign of things to come, I better start sounding out my old employer for a possible rehire.

Creativity Unleashed

2006-12-05T18:39:00.000+05:30

This term I decided to humor myself a bit, and enrolled for a course called "Creativity, Innovation and Design", CID in short. From what I saw in the first class, it seems like a fun course, unlike most other courses in a B-school curriculum.

Our first assignment was to write a 55-word story. The word count restriction, at first, sounded ridiculous. But as I started thinking about it, I realized this had to be like a 3 panel comic strip. And Calvin and Hobbes was a classic example of how the most memorable stories are written in the fewest of words.

With some heavy inspiration from Calvin's Spaceman Spiff alter-ego, here's what I conjured:

The great escape
“We are taking you to Planet Kroz as proof that intelligent life exists on Earth,” the alien chief glorked in perfectly accented English, tentacles awkwardly clicking and scrolling through the online “Krozzian–English Translation Manual”. As he moved to close the Explorer window, his cuticular eyes fell on my Blackboard grades.
“Release him,” he screamed.

P.S. The Prof liked it, and even edited it for me. I simply couldn't resist taking a dig at the "universal" corelation between intelligence and grades. But frankly, I am not complaining at all.

Lifecycle of a software professional

2006-11-16T00:46:00.000+05:30

The life of a software professional is full of insecurities.
When you start out with your career, it is all about getting into the most reputed MNC. If a college-mate with lesser academic credentials that you got into a better company, with a higher pay, you'll have sleepless nights. Insecurities.

A couple of years later, when you realize that academic credentials have very little to do with who ends up in which company and earns what salary, the angst at being underpaid subsides. The comfort of being part of "the" most famous IT company provides consolation for all the under-achievement.

The next goal is to go to the US, and live there for a few years. When you finally manage to do that, it gives you a new high in your career. You are sitting in the US, and sending mails to all your batch-mates, who had gone past you in terms of salaries and achievements.
"Sup guys, how is our India these days? I am missing it badly, although USA is a pretty neat place to live in"
And then, to your horror, within 5 minutes, you receive 10 replies.
"Hey dude, just arrived eh? Gimme ur number, and i'll call ya. Been in NJ for the past 2 years" types.
Such kill-joys these friends are. And so your years in US are also spent sulking at how everybody else has already achieved everything that you are about to achieve. Insecurities loom large.

Finally, you decided you have had enough, and decide to return to India.Once back, you think of finally getting one up on all those US-based friends.
"Namaste friends, I am back in India now. All those months in Pardes taught me the importance of appreciating my own country. Now I have come back to my home, and am enjoying the warmth and joy that no amount of dollars can buy you in US. Jai Hind" You write.
Within 5 minutes, your mailbox is flooded again.
"Good you are back. Why don't we all meet up this weekend at Vidyarthi Bhavan for dosa?”
Just like that, your thunder is stolen. Yet again.And you are back to your ways of wallowing in self-pity. And insecurities.

After a lot of pondering, you decide to completely severe your links with all your batch-mates from college, to avoid being reminded of your under-achievements. So you decide to hang around mostly with colleagues. Since these guys are in the same boat as you are, there is no fear of being upstaged. Or so you think.

Soon, however, most of the guys that you had branded as "hopeless" due to their lack of charisma and attitude, and had ridiculed as people who will remain "techies" all their lives, manage to find jobs as "Technical Architects", with salaries more than double of what you get. The rest, who you ridiculed for being total "no-brainers" when it came to technology, accept positions as Project Managers and go on to earn pay packets several times more than yours. All of a sudden, you find yourself alone and left behind. Stuck in mediocrity, and complacency. As a jack of all, but master of none. The only thing that stays with you loyally through all these times is your fear of under-achievement.
Insecurities.

And then you go do an MBA.
You think a B-school education is the answer to all your woes. And after spending all your hard earned money on that B-school degree, you realize how wrong you were.
After all the rigorous schedules that you go through at the B-school, you realize that you are just as clueless, but a whole lot poorer than before. And you are back to square one.
Insecurities: Driving the lifecycle of a software professional.

Term 5: The story so far

2006-11-15T14:39:00.000+05:30

It’s been a while since I last did any writing on this blog. The past few weeks have been super-hectic. The elective terms have been extremely busy, thanks to the many groups that I am part of for each of my subjects. Coordinating group dynamics when you are involved in multiple groups is a real test of one’s people and time management skills. Add to that, the added pressure due to the placement processes being initiated this term. Countless resume reviews and case-based interview sessions have further complicated the time-management problem.

Speaking of placements, my initial attempts have been rather disastrous. The un-real application to DB was, in hindsight, totally avoidable, considering I have 6.5 years experience in IT, and absolutely none in finance. Heck, I am not even doing a fin major. But the guy from DB was so convincing in his pre-placement talk that even a staunch non-finance guy like me was blinded into applying. And making a mockery of myself.

Although that didn’t hurt me much, the SAP AG results are a real dampener. If it is any consolation, they had clearly mentioned that they were looking for 3-5 years experience, and anyone with more than that would be considered only if he/she was extremely good, in the areas they were looking. And since I am a total ERP ignoramus, and haven’t worked in Strategy consulting ever, I guess the writing was always there on the wall. But then the eyes will see only what they want to see. So much for wishful thinking, and selective vision.

Much before these jolts brought me down to terra-firma, there was another fiasco during the MAQ recruitment. Although our lunch with the director went pretty well in terms of relationship building, the final pre-placement talk from them left me disillusioned with both the job and the company, and I did a last minute volte-face, and withdrew my application. Considering this was my first application, it surely wasn’t an auspicious sign.
And the stars surely seem to be taking their revenge on me for that.

However, amidst all the disappointments, I did taste some sweet success this term. Some of the results from the 4th term finals came as pleasant surprises, and re-inforced my faith in my exams-cracking ability. How much that will help me in my career is something that can be debated. But nevertheless, it is a feel–good factor, and I plan to savor it.

The other significant success was the PaEV presentations. After our presentation in front of our peers, we received some un-nerving information about competition that we hadn’t bargained for. Not only did that completely catch us unawares, but also seriously dented our enthusiasm about the success of our B-plan. When we were asked to defend our plan in front of VC investors, we were in a tight spot since we knew our plan had lost its USP, thanks to competition that had already done everything that we planned to do. So it was a “back to the drawing board” situation for us. After cracking our heads for hours together, we finally zeroed in a multi-pronged service model that ensured we retained our USP. Although we hadn’t had a lot of time to prepare on the new idea, we decided to go in and face the VC’s wrath, since we had nothing much to lose. But what transpired, once we went in, was pure “magic”. By drawing on our past experiences while making every point in our presentation, we instantly established credibility with the VCs, and at the end of it all, they were all praises for our idea. In fact, they even suggested some new ways to improve our model. The crowning glory was when they commented that if we do a good job on this idea, this could be a multi-million dollar business within 5 years! Now beat that.

So that has been the story so far this term. Exams are once again around the corner, and the emphasis on CGPA, although diminished to a great extent, has once again resurfaced.
And for some personal trivia, I have successfully survived two years of marriage, as of yesterday.
And that, in comparison to all those candidates who have been more successful at the initial placement offers, is no mean achievement!

India - Development and Participation

2006-10-17T01:21:00.000+05:30

My humble attempt at serious writing, within 400 words.

Note: If some parts seem abrupt, blame it on the 400 word limit.

A COMMENTARY ON “INDIA: DEVELOPMENT AND PARTICIPATION”

When India opened its economy to the world in 1991, it heralded a new era of liberalization, a break-away from the “License Raj” regime that had constrained the growth of the Indian Economy. The liberalization programme opened the doors to International Trade, and resulted in a renewed interest among the International Community in the possibilities of the Indian Economy, with Forbes magazine declaring in 1994 that “India may be the best emerging market of all”.

However, despite creditable growth in its development performance in 1990s, India’s economy never attained the anticipated “spectacular” growth. Although several MNCs entered India in the 1990s, contributing to the boom in economy, the growth did not percolate to all sectors and regions of the country. Although India’s economy has posted an excellent average GDP growth of 6.8% since 1994, it is still behind the East Asian economies.

The central issue, however, is not the overall growth of the economy, but rather, the pattern of this growth. The huge emphasis on highly skilled services sector resulted in this sector growing at an average of 7.7%. However, the primary agricultural sector has not been a part of the overall growth. This lack of participatory growth is responsible for India’s continuing problems of poverty and deprivation of the masses.

In order to achieve participatory growth, policy-makers must focus on social reforms and devise effective methods to implement these at the grass roots. Progress in basic education, health care, social security, land reforms, population control, gender and social equity, etc are essential to ensure participatory growth. The continued lack of basic education (illiteracy rate of over 35%) and inadequate health care facilities are reflections of the ineffectiveness of current policies. Gender discrimination and lack of awareness on population control need to be addressed. Better job opportunities need to be created in the agriculture sector to include rural masses in the economic growth of the country.

There needs to be a real commitment to relevant social reforms by policy makers in order to ensure participatory growth. It is important to recognize the complementarity between economic growth and social opportunities. While India has done well in the former respect, it is the continued neglect of the latter that has slowed down India’s overall development. The opportunities that Globalization has ushered into the economy needs to be equally distributed among all sectors to promote holistic human development.

Arbit Ramblings of an "Almost" Half MBA

2006-10-10T01:56:00.000+05:30

It’s been a rather quiet term break, thanks to my not visiting Bangalore during these holidays. With Mom and Dad away, there wasn’t much use in going to Bangalore, although I definitely miss not being with my precious little angel. So it’s been mostly a lot of sleeping, and a bit of work regarding my Entrepreneurial Venture (God bless the noble attempt!).

While I am not doing either of the two, I keep myself entertained watching utterly useless stuff on the telly. Of late, I have become addicted to repeat re-runs of Karan Johar movies. I hate admitting this in a not-so-personal forum, but I have always liked K-Jo movies, right from the KKHH days. Despite everyone else around me criticizing everything about them, I am an unabashed K-Jo and SRK fan. For all my pragmatic pretensions, I do have a penchant for the “larger than life”.

Although I liked KKHH the best, I am equally fond of K3G and KHNH. However, sitting through Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna was not half as entertaining as any of his previous movies. The whole concept of the movie defied the “Karan Johar School of Filmmaking”. And that I didn’t like. But after watching Karan and SRK speak about the movie on an NDTV program, I think the concept of the movie wasn’t as flawed as the execution. The one idea from the movie that I found very apt was that it is best to get out an unhappy marriage than to suffer the trauma in the name of commitment.

Although I am a staunch believer in the institution of marriage, I do believe that after a certain point, if a marriage isn’t working, one should just admit that it was a mistake and move on, rather than suffer and make the other person suffer too. Unfortunately, in a society such as ours, the sanctity that the institution of marriage enjoys makes it impossible for most people to recognize the futility of their relationship and walk out of it. In short, the message of Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna is that marriages, unfortunately, are no longer made in heaven, but they sure can make your life hell.

Digressing from the subject of movies and marriages, I almost forgot to announce my “half MBA” status. Well, not quite. Thanks to some last minute screw-job from the powers-that-be in the Student Council, one of our exams got postponed till Oct 18th, causing a huge outrage and uproar among the unsuspecting students. There has been a tremendous amount of confusion that has prevailed despite long emails from the top-guns for their reasons for postponing the exam. Apparently, as they mentioned, it is in our interests that they requested the exams to be postponed. Surprisingly, a huge majority of students seemed to disagree with this statement. Of course, I am not insinuating anything. And after all, they are all “honorable men”, as Mark Antony would say.

With another 4 days to go before Term 5 begins, we are looking forward to the 2-day trip to Vizag tomorrow. A good day at the beach should help us soak in enough sun to recharge our batteries just in time for the second half of our MBA at the ISB.

Karaoke Night at ISB

2006-09-22T09:33:00.000+05:30

The Karaoke Party at ISB last weekend was simply awesome! The plethora of talent on display was quite surprising. The GSB Prez performing “She’s always a woman” was probably the best one for me, although Arun’s rendition of “Wonderwall” was equally powerful. Lots of sections turned up in huge numbers for their group songs, and sang their hearts (and voices) out. Although melody wasn’t exactly their forte, the enthusiasm and the spirit with which they performed were infectious.

Despite the maddening rains, people managed to land up at the small enclosure where the whole event was moved to, along with spouses and kids, to enliven the party. Even the usually shy people were encouraged to go and try and their luck with the mic. There was one kid who bravely attempted Bon Jovi’s “It’s my life”, while someone even tried “Sweet Child of Mine”.

Speaking of bold attempts, GR and I also threw caution to the wind by performing “Cloud #9”. Although we later found out that our voices were almost unheard, it still was an honest attempt. The last time I performed at a Karaoke party was way back in 2003 in Raleigh, NC. Thanks to Brenda, the friendly waitress at our regular snooker bar, I actually managed to go out there and perform “When you say nothing at all” and even get a huge applause from the southerners. Compared to that, this one was rather lame. Shouting and screaming into the mic were never our strengths, and we should have realized that. LOL.

There were prizes up for grabs too at the weekend party. Although our performance surely didn’t deserve any awards, the spouses (mine included) managed to win the runners-up prize for their rendition of “Pehla Nasha”. As long as the prize is in the family………

Sampas vs Federer

2006-09-20T18:40:00.000+05:30

Watching Roger Federer thrash Andy Roddick one more time in the US Open final seemed to be the last nail in the coffin. Despite my living in denial for the past 2 years, the fact simply is that Federer is the best player to have ever played the game. My loyalties with the erstwhile emperor Pete Sampras had blinded me to the obvious greatness of the man known as “Fedex”. But watching him decimate his opponents with such ease, and with such consistency, has finally forced me to accept what the tennis world has been harping about for the past 2 years. Fedex is the most complete player of all times.

As a kid growing up in pre-liberalization India, my first tryst with Tennis was when I watched Boris Becker defeat Kevin Curran to win Wimbledon 1985. Since then, I have been hooked to the game. Becker’s clumsy yet charismatic tennis had won me, and most of the world, over. The booming serves, the diving volleys, and that characteristic jump across the net to signal his victory – all signature Boris Becker moves that still bring back fond memories of those days. The epic rivalry between Becker and Edberg in the late 80’s and early 90’s was mesmerizing stuff, where Becker’s power and Edberg’s grace took turns winning the title at Wimbledon.

While Becker and Edberg were trading titles, the period also saw the emergence of the Nick Bolletierri generation of American tennis players. Led by the psychedelic Andre Agassi, the Americans threatened to take the tennis world by storm. However, the first of the American Teen Brigade to win a Slam was Michael Chang at Paris, 1989. While Michael huffed and puffed his way to victory in 1989, that remained his only Grand Slam title in his entire career. In 1990, an unknown Greek-American teenager announced his arrival on the big stage by winning the US open. Pete Sampras’ legacy started at the age of 19, and lives on forever.

After winning the US open in 1990, Sampras took a backseat to Agassi at Wimbledon 1992, which till date, is the most remembered championships at Wimbledon, due to the improbable Agassi victory. However, the King was not to be denied for much longer. Starting 1993, Sampras moved into a whole new level of Tennis, and began his dominance of the sport, which lasted almost 9 years. When he finally quit the professional circuit after winning the 2002 US Open title, in a picture-perfect final against Agassi, his millions of fans were left both happy and sad at the same time. Happy because of the emphatic fashion in which he signaled his retirement, by winning the Open. Sad because we’d never get to see the Pistol fire again.

Although my early loyalties were with Boris Becker, Sampras’ excellence and his magnificent all court game was irresistible. Soon, I had shifted camps, and had become an ardent Sampras fan. The signature service with which he finished his opponents off earned him the sobriquet “Pistol Pete”. Till date, the Sampras’ serve is universally acknowledged to be the best and most graceful ever.
Ironically, the first time I held a tennis racquet was just after the epic US Open 2002 final, which turned out to be Sampras’ last match. And due to my obsession with the Sampras serve, I actually pulled off a rather good imitation of the Sampras serve.

Ever since Roger Federer came into his own, Sampras’ record 14 Grand Slams has started to appear increasingly breakable. The kind of all-court dominance that Federer has maintained since 2003 makes it very difficult to bet against him breaking the record. With no credible threat to his dominance, Federer has already amassed 9 Grand Slams despite being only 25! Barring any serious injury, it would take a very brave man to bet against the Fedex breaking every record in the book. Although I am a die-hard Pete Sampras fan by heart, Federer has captured my imagination like no other player has.
If there ever was a perfect way to play tennis, Roger Federer has mastered it!

The Verdict: Although it is impossible to compare two players from different generations, Federer seems a more complete player. But in Pete’s defense, with a serve like his, he didn’t need to play those perfect shots.

Oh, and if you really care, Andre Agassi played his last match at the US Open, losing to a little known B.Becker. Ironic considering Agassi had an almost perfect record against the more popular B.Becker in over 25 matches.

Speed Demon : The URO experience

2006-08-25T23:34:00.000+05:30

NOTE: In adherence with the Honor Code rules at ISB, the author acknowledges that this post was originally published a year ago on his now defunct blog. The post is being republished as an open acknowledgement of his "Writer's Block".

The protagonist in this story is an old friend, who I shall refer to as R. Mister R had shown signs of his greatness at a very early age, and has now gone on to vindicate us with his lofty achievements. This incident that I will recount here, is one such proof of the great man that R would grow up to be.

It happened one evening, about 8 years ago. We were all in our college, most of us being students of Engineering. Being budding engineers with a penchant for Science and all things related to it, yours truly and his good friend D were engrossed in a highly scientific conversation about scientific marvels, and unexplained phenomenon. I was narrating interesting anecdotes about another friend of mine who had claimed in school to have spotted a UFO on his first floor terrace. As shocking as that was to D, he proceeded to narrate another amazing incident that he personally experienced.

During one of the several internal exams that D had to take as part of the Engineering course, D had been to his friend's house on KR Road in South Bangalore, for a group study session. The compulsive smoker that he was, D had come out of the house to steal a quick smoke. He had checked his watch to give himself exactly 5 minutes to get back to studies. The watch had the time as 12:57 AM, on the 3rd of December 1998. And suddenly it happened. A streak of black and orange flashed past him, and before he could fathom what was going on, the streak had disappeared over the horizon onto the other end of KR Road. D was at a loss to explain what it could have been. When he sat down to think about exactly what he saw, he realized that the streak of black and orange had made a sound like that of a purring engine. But that was about all that he could gather of what he had seen.
It finally dawned upon him that he had just witnessed a rare spotting of a URO!
For the uninitiated, URO stands for Unidentified Riding Object, and if the apocalypse-watchers are to be believed, most future alien attacks will be through UROs and not UFOs, due to advancements in rocket science on earth.

D confided that ever since, he had been having sleepless nights. He had been having nightmares of the URO attacking him since he had seen it, and as depicted in most Alien movies, anyone who discovered their existence died an unexplained, untimely death.
When D recounted his URO experience, I was completely amazed and stunned at the same time. I was also a wee bit jealous for not having spotted the URO myself, since I didn’t live too far away from KR road myself.

A week had passed since this amazing revelation. I had gone out for dinner at a Dhaba with my group of friends. Since we were poor students then, our parties would almost always be at a dhaba. One such favorite was the Eden Huts dhaba on Kanakapura road. I can’t put a finger on the exact occasion for our partying, but nevertheless, I remember we had a blast that night. After finishing our dinner at the dhaba, we were riding our motorbikes on our way back home.

It was close to midnight, and some of us had driven a lot faster than the others, and so the faster ones, including myself, had decided to stop at one of the pan-shops and wait for the others to join. A and I (as in me) started boasting about the max speed we had touched on that night. A claimed that his Yamaha had easily crossed 100 KMPH, and I, not wanting to be left behind, retorted that my Samurai had also crossed well past 100 KMPH. At this point, the third guy, AS intervened, boasting that he had a Shogun which could easily do a 120 KMPH, leaving A and me with no option but to shut up. Just when AS thought he had won the argument, and the crown for Speed Demon, our dude R dropped the inevitable bombshell.
"Do you guys know I can do a 140 KMPH on my dad's Hero Honda?" R thundered.
"What? Dude, you've got to put a lid on your gasbag. There's no way you can do a 140 in that 4 stroke" A screamed.
"You bet. No way" I agreed.
"Yo R, get a life. Your Hero Honda is a sissy 4 stroke underpowered mileage bike" AS joined in.
There was a long silence. R was visibly unimpressed, and disgusted with his friends for dismissing his claims the way they did. So he decided to let the cat out of the bag.
"Do you know the speedometer on my Hero Honda is calibrated till 140 KMPH? Why do you think they'd take the trouble if the bike couldn’t do that speed?" R reasoned.
"And you, CK, your bike is calibrated only upto 120. So don’t you try to compete with me when it comes to speed" he continued pointing at me.
"And I guess it’s the same with the rest of your bikes as well. Just 120 KMPH. Isn’t it?" R went on, this time admonishing the rest of them as well, for their impudence, and the chiding they had given him.
At this point, A had somewhat recovered from the unexpectedly vitriolic attack, and he tried to counter-attack.
"But R, this is India. How the hell can you expect anyone to believe you did a 140 KMPH on Indian Roads? Do we look like no-brainers to you?" A thundered.
That was our cue. AS and I joined in and began to dismantle R's composure with our jibes and jokes at his overtly far-fetched claim. Not one to be undone, R then adopted the sentimental technique and explained the scenario to us.
"Guys, I can’t force you to believe me, nor am I interested in proving it to you. But just to let you know, that night my mom was very ill, and she needed some medicines urgently. It was well past midnight. 1257 AM in the night, to be precise. My dad gave me the prescription, and asked me to rush and pick up the medicines. At that time in the night, I knew there was only one drug store that stayed open. On KR Road. But even that stayed open only till 1 AM. I had just 3 minutes to rush and get those medicines. I got on my bike, and gave full throttle and within seconds, I was cruising at 140 KMPH. It could be more, but I have no way to know since the speedometer is calibrated only upto 140. And I managed to reach the drug store on time and get those medicines for my mom. If you were to be in my situation, I am sure you'd also probably push your bike to its limits. But maybe not 140 KMPH since your bikes are calibrated only upto 120." R concluded, with a lost-puppy look on his face, as if to add credibility to his story.
"hmm, I guess we were a little too fast to jump to conclusions. We’re really sorry." AS apologized, almost ashamed to have initially disbelieved R's story.
"Yeah dude, you’re right. When you have a family emergency, people do experience miraculous super-human powers" A agreed wholeheartedly.
I was, however, lost in thoughts. The mention of the word miracle had set me thinking. And the fact that this incident occurred on KR Road had really got my mind racing.
"What time did you say this occurred?" I questioned R.
"12:57 in the night" R replied, with an annoyed look on his face since he was expecting an apology from me, and he hadn’t got one yet.
"And was it on the 3rd of December, 1998?" I went on.
"Umm..Dont remember the date exactly. But it must be around the same time. Why do you ask?" R was puzzled.
"And what color is your bike?"
"It's black and orange."
BINGO.
The mystery of the URO had been solved. Just like that!
I stopped at the nearest phone booth, and called my friend D and explained the story to him.

That night, my friend D slept a peaceful sleep. Without nightmares. Finally.

Pipped to the Post

2006-08-24T17:46:00.000+05:30

The ELP that I so passionately wrote about in my previous post slipped right out of our hands. We thought we did well, but forgot that the rules of the competition requires us to not only do well, but do better than the competition. When there is only one prize up for grabs, being good is not enough. And the team that pipped us to the post were, I am sure, more deserving than us.

I can't say I am not disappointed. Because I am. But I am not heart-broken. Also, this is a precursor to the various failures that we'll all have to face in our future careers, at some point or the other. It's also a time to evaluate ourselves, and see if we really were as good as we thought. Did some of us go overboard with the "I love social service" tune? Did we tug at their emotional chords when we should have really targeted their rational ones? Should we have concluded with our strengths than go off on a tangent about our value-added service? Did we handle it with the same seriousness that we would have for a real project pitch? Did our lack of relevant field experience make all the difference?

At the end of the day, you are what the world perceives you to be. And in this case, the verdict was "second best".
But hope prevails. We'll be back.

ELP is just a call away

2006-08-23T23:01:00.000+05:30

As the months have passed, the terms at ISB have started to seem shorter and shorter. Conversely, I have begun to find myself lagging more and more behind schedules due to my acute mismanagement of time, both in and out of class. The added distractions of PaEV and ELP will only make my miseries worse.

However, it is this very pressure that is making this joyride so much more fun. The PaEV, if it goes well, sounds like an awfully exciting idea. Especially after listening to Manish Sabharwal (the TeamLease guy) and Sanjeev Bhikchandani (the Naukri founder). The excitement of imagining myself among such esteemed people makes the misery more than worthwhile.

And to complicate my schedules even more, I have also applied for an NGO Project for ELP (Experiential Learning Program). We had our interview today with the Naandi Foundation for their ambitious Community Water Service System. If things actually went as well as we all think it did, then we should have a mammoth project in our hand. One that will take a tremendous amount of commitment, in terms of time and soul. Soul, because this is an NGO project targeted at making treated water available at a very cheap rate to the villagers in various states. Not only will it require us to wear our MBA caps really snug, but will also require us to interact with the rural folks, and sell our idea to them. The real challenge will be to convince them that it pays to pay for clean water.

The results should be out anytime tonight. Although our competition seemed just as competent, the eternal optimist in me refuses to calm down. I strongly believe we gave it our best shot, and each one of us (GR, Niss, Bankim, Megh and I) spoke passionately about everything that we had discussed last night. If we do bag it, we'll be able to sleep with a smile. If we dont, we certainly won't wake up with a frown.
As is my usual style, I can't resist signing off without a word play:
'ELP is just a call away.

Signing off.

"Corp Fin"ished

2006-08-02T18:12:00.000+05:30

Corporate Finance has been giving me a tough time. However, the blame lies squarely on me, and me alone. Professor BC has been absolutely fantastic, and is probably the only reason I may scrape through the subject this term. His joyous spirit defies his age, and his sense of humor leaves most of the class in guffaws.

To recount some of his gems in class, today while emphasizing on the importance of a particular formula, he went on to declare “I want you to remember this formula even if I call you in the midnight. Even if you’ve just snorted a whole line of coke”. And then, there are some usual funny-lines. He starts the class asking us “Did you sleep well last night?”, and after the obvious roars of “NO” from us, he dismisses us with a “Great, so that means everything’s normal”.

More than what he says, it’s the way he says it that makes him such a funny man. With a completely innocent look on his face, he says the funniest of things. And he spares no one, not even the lady who comes to take the attendance pictures. Last week, he pounced on her when he caught her taking a picture of him in class. Of course, he feigned total ignorance of the attendance process at ISB, and went on to cheekily admonish her for “taking his picture, maybe for posting on shaadi.com”.

The other subjects this term have been alright. Operations Management is interesting, but rather tough. Management Accounting is starting to get interesting, and Entrepreneurship has been fun, thanks mostly to Prof. Venkat, and his “Venkat’s Laws”.

I think I am going to learn a lot this term. It’s a pity that my grades won’t reflect the learnings.
Life isn’t fair. And B-schools are no different.

Reporting from the battlefront

2006-07-17T21:33:00.000+05:30

As I prepare for one final assault at Term 2 exams, I felt compelled to take a quick sneak-peek into the blogdom, and while at it, I couldn't resist pouring my woes for anyone who cares.

Today was a tough day. All the noble knights returned from battle, disappointed and lost. The enemy had simply proven too strong. The morning session (DMOP) was reported to be unusually tough. Although the afternoon session (CSTR) was comparitively pedestrian, most people simply didn't have anything left in their tanks after the early assault.
As for me, I went in with very modest expectations, and came back satisfied. With both the papers. That's not to claim I did well. It's just that I didnt allow myself to be disappointed. That's just a loser's way of saying I am happy with whatever little I get.

Tomorrow is another battle of gigantic proportions. MKDM promises to be an eye-opener, thanks to so many unknown concepts that I will be questioned on in the exam. GLEC is a no-hoper anyways. One look at the sample paper was enough to dissuade me from investing my precious time in studying the text books for GLEC.
The man is an enigma. Nobody understands him.

Goodbye Term 2

2006-07-13T22:31:00.000+05:30

Today was the last day of term 2. Come Tuesday, I should be done with the exams as well.
Without considering the possibility of a total disaster at the exams, I should be 1/4th of an MBA next Tuesday. That's an exciting thought.
Curiously though, I am still just as clueless.

It's prayer time again.
Dear God, remember what Peter Parker said,
"With great power comes great responsibility".
Powerful as you are, it's now time for you to discharge your responsibility.
Please get me through these exams. Even if it takes a miracle.
Amen!

Straight from the heart

2006-07-08T10:10:00.000+05:30

Indians have truly come of age. In a good and bad way.
Issues that were, till yesterday, considered taboo are now being openly flaunted. And speculated. This sudden Bohemian attitude has led to mixed reactions among the people here. While some have come to accept and appreciate the frank confessions, others have found it scandalous and completely inappropriate. Nevertheless, rumor mills have been having a field day, with everyone having an opinion on everyone else.

It all started with this guy going open with his alternative orientation. For several conservative people, the revelation suddenly seemed too scandalous. And it triggered a chain reaction, and soon everyone was talking about it. And since gossip mongers usually have the completely uncalled-for tendency to extrapolate, they have been busy speculating about everyone else’s orientation as well. Stereotypes have sprung up overnight, and people have been slotted into these stereotypes. Accordingly, Mr. X is gay and Mr. Y is not.

Incidentally, I was watching this movie “The object of my affection” yesterday on TV, which deals with some similar issues. And I suddenly remembered hearing about this guy in class who approaches people and asks them “Are you gay?” I don’t know his intentions behind this curiosity, and therefore, would not dare to speculate, but so many others have already slotted him into the stereotype for simply being curious. It’s because of this “slotting” that straight people are usually wary of hanging around with gay people.

I too was homophobic, thanks to this incident in Miami when I was accosted by this humongous creature in an elevator, asking for sexual favors. The fact that I had to literally shoo him away left me with a bad impression about all gay people. However, an incident with one of my good friends helped me change my opinion. This friend, engaged and all set to marry, suddenly realized one day that he was gay. It was a tough time for both his fiancée and him to come to terms with this, but they held up really well. For me, the sudden realization that a very good friend of mine was gay felt weird. But gradually, I realized that, despite being gay, he was still the same person that I knew. And that it is ok to have gay people as friends.

Just to set the picture right, I am straight and have absolutely no intention to cross the fence. So if you’re the guy that asks people if they are gay, you better not ask me. The mimic in me feels amused by some of the stereotypical mannerisms that I notice in gay people, but that, in no way, suggests any disrespect towards them.
And I speak “straight” from the heart.

Back to the Grind

2006-06-17T12:16:00.000+05:30

Time’s been flying. First Term is over, and the second one is already giving us all sleepless nights, and even more importantly, beer-less weekends. The frenetic pace and the nervous energy with which people have adapted to the new, improved, extra-stress term is truly remarkable. That includes me too. Not only did I manage to meet up a few thousand people in my 2 short days at Bangalore, but also drove all the way from Bangalore to Hyderabad, and then spent a couple of hours in the night reading the material for the first class. If there ever were any doubts about my new found geek-hood, I have laid them all to rest.

The first week in the new term has been rather disappointing. After sitting through some truly inspiring lectures from the likes of Stine, Finn, Waterman, Vohra etc last term, the new term is , plainly put, disappointing. Competitive Strategy, which is a key course in all MBA programs, is turning out to be a disaster. While it is understandable that Prof. GV is new to this school, and probably to the profession as well, it still doesn’t do justice to the exorbitant amount of fees that I have paid. While my sympathies are surely with her, I’d definitely not want to sit through a rookie lecturer’s class where valid arguments are brushed under the carpet with a disappointing “I know more than you” attitude.

Decision Models and Optimization is the other subject that I am very disappointed with. Another key subject and another disastrous choice of faculty. The high expectations that were built up after such an amazing faculty for the first term have come crashing down just one week into the second term.

The saving grace, however, has been this brand new world to which we have been given access. A make-believe world where we all start off as tycoons, and can shape our futures with our own actions. No, I haven’t been reading too many of those Harry Potter novels. I’m referring to the MarkStrat World. We submitted our very first decision in the MarkStrat World last night. A decision that, we hope, will hold us in good stead in the times to come.

Moving on to some news from the non-ISB world, the biggest event that the whole world is currently watching is the FIFA World Cup. Despite the rigorous schedules, I continue to catch the soccer action everyday at least for a couple of hours. I’m rooting for the Dutch and the English.

In other news, Mika Singh and Rakhee Sawant went smack at each other, before Rakhee experienced a cultural epiphany, and decided to take Mika to court for violating her Indian-ness.
Yawn.
Signing off.

The End is Here!

2006-06-06T18:57:00.000+05:30

Redemption, at last!
Finally, the term exams are done and dusted. A mixed bag of sorts, but nevertheless, something that all of us were waiting to end. For all the sleepless nights, it’s redemption time tonight. There’s a party, of course. And for all those unfortunate souls who have to stay back in Hyderabad, it’s an open invitation to drown all your frustrations.

Rejoice, I will. But a little bit of pondering, in retrospect, over the exams.
Financial Accounting, despite the huge volumes, was a good paper, and I think (hope?) I didn’t bungle too much. But what followed was a disaster.
The economics exam was such a mystery that the moment I saw the paper, all I could do was smile. I am blessed with the ability to see humor in tragedy. And this was tragedy at its best. After 2 hours of incessant guessing, I finally walked out without knowing if I had got even one question right. A mystery it was. And remains.
Today, luckily, was a much better performance. Business Statistics was smooth sailing, despite the random guesses for a few questions. Marketing Management was not so smooth sailing, but after weathering the storm yesterday, this didn’t seem like rough weather at all.

Since most people that I know are leaving for their hometowns tonight, I am stranded here for the next two days, thanks to the Leadership Development Program. But come Thursday night, I am going to be off to Bangalore.
Home is where the heart is. And sweetheart too.

Poor Economy

2006-06-05T17:38:00.000+05:30

Please tell me zero is not a bad score in today's economics paper!

P.S: This is an appeal for empathy, not sympathy.

The End is Near

2006-05-30T19:43:00.000+05:30

Exactly one week from today, we should be done with our first term at the ISB. For most of us, that means going back home for a 5 day break, and a well deserved one at that. A few unlucky ones, like yours truly, will however have to stay back another couple of days to attend the Leadership Development Program.
Although the end term exams are just around the corner, I have hardly had the time to study anything at all, thanks to the overload of assignments. Just trying to get these assignments done have been taking up all my time, and then some. The omens have also been forecasting a disaster at the exams. How else would one explain the fact that my economics score, which was well above the average, had 4 marks docked off it for no good reason, relegating me to the average scores? To compound my miseries, I made some uncharacteristic blunders in the Accounting and economics assignments, effectively ending all hopes of ending the term on a decent score.
The mid term stats score has been my only source of happiness, for some time now. And hopefully, they won't dock any marks off it.
Next post will, mostly, be after the term exams. Probably a Post Mortem.
The End is Near.

Mid-Terminated

2006-05-20T13:10:00.000+05:30

The mid-terms are over!
Our very first examination experience at ISB is finally done and dusted. And what a party we had, to celebrate our success (really?). The exams themselves did not offer any cause for celebration for most of us, although their culmination certainly did.

The statistics exam, which most of us were very skeptical about, turned out to be rather manageable. Economics, on the other hand, was an altogether different experience. Most people had extreme reactions to offer as they walked out of the examination hall. The reactions ranged from “What the f*** was that about!” to “Never since the Digital Signal Processing exam in Engineering have I been screwed this badly in an exam”. However, as every rule has to have an exception, there were a select few who came out with a wide smile, with the knowledge of having cracked the paper.

One such enlightened soul, a sure-fire future Dean’s Lister, happens to live next door. The very fact that he actually knew what “Lerner’s Index” was, and was able to solve the problem based on Lerner’s Index, should be ample proof for my prediction about his making it to the Dean’s List. And it certainly won’t hurt to live next door to a Dean’s Lister. There is a distinct probability that some opportunity, originally intended for him, could come knocking on my door, albeit by mistake.

Being the eternal optimist that I am, I don’t like to delve on unpleasant experiences for too long. Life moves on, and so did I. To the rocking party that the spouses had organized for us battle-worn veterans. As most parties at ISB go, this too was filled with people, booze and smoke. The spouses had even managed to get a DJ to run the show, and ensure foot-tapping music for the whole long night. My only grievance with the DJ was his obsession with Hindi Remixes and hip-hop numbers, and his reluctance to play any classic rock until after 2 AM.

The party even had the local Hyderabad House Restaurant put up its stalls at the venue, to enable us starved souls to feast on some authentic Hyderabadi Biryani and the works. And for some of us who are sick of paying exorbitant rates for the mediocre food served at the Sarovar Cafeteria, the prices at the food stall came as a pleasant surprise. For a change, food was actually affordable.

While the party continued to rock till the wee hours of the morning, we took off by 2 for our customary inebriated long ride on the deserted Madhapura roads. This time we actually outdid ourselves , treading some really unknown paths, but managed to keep the ride incident free.

Post the ride, we decided to humor ourselves a little more by playing Table Tennis. The fun part was to challenge ourselves to stay in balance despite the overdose of alcohol in our blood. Surprisingly, we held up pretty well, and actually ended up playing a mini-tournament on the spot. When we finally turned ourselves in, it was well past 330 AM.

Another eventful day at ISB. A few disappointments, and a lot of alcohol to drown them in.

Poll Position : The Election Update

2006-05-17T01:22:00.000+05:30

It’s that week of the year at ISB when everyone gets hyper-active and over-friendly. All of a sudden, you have strangers bumping into you and exchanging pleasantries, before leaving you with a customary “By the way, I am standing for the GSB president. Please vote for the best guy”. Like I didn’t know. The part about voting for the best guy, I mean.

We have had a candidate proclaiming in his election manifesto that he would ensure 24/7 restaurants in each Student Village if he became the Prez. Pity that’s really not my main criteria for voting a GSB Prez in. He also went on to claim that he would ensure ELPs for every student in the batch. While that is a delicious prospect, it doesn’t seem like a very plausible one, considering that ELPs are not just for the school to decide. As a GSB Prez, one can do a lot. But impressing upon the corporate world to offer ELPs to every student might seem a little too far-fetched for even the best Prez.
My advice :”Get real. Don't promise what you can't deliver”.

There’s another who claims to ensure that “This year shall not pass”. Time Machine, anyone? Frankly, I found him rather funny. That’s not to say he is bad. It just didn’t seem that he was serious enough. We are looking for a guy who can be the face of ISB for the external world for the next year. A person who can represent the students in front of the faculty, and the school in front of the corporates. This guy, just like the one before him, seemed too rehearsed to be able to hold his own in a real-world negotiation.
My advice : " Show us your real self. Not the acts. We might just like you the way you are".

The third and final candidate seemed like a runaway winner, thanks to the other two shooting themselves in their feet. While I was reasonably impressed with him, I would still attribute it to the lack of charisma among the competition, than his own persona. But the guy knew his manifesto well, had his thoughts well composed without sounding rehearsed, and had the affable quality of being able to laugh at himself. But is he my ideal GSB Prez? Umm, well, maybe, maybe not.
My advice : " Good going. Now let's see some enthusiasm".

But then, it’s way too easy for people to sit back and criticize, and I am obviously guilty of that crime myself. Standing in front of so many people, and trying to sell one’s self in 10 minutes is certainly not easy. To add to their misery, there was a rapid fire round of questions right after their 10 minute speech. It is surely a tough ask for anyone to hold their composure in such a situation, and therefore, despite all my criticism, I still have immense respect for these guys. As one of the guys put it,
“I know there are many people who are much better qualified than I for this position. But the only difference between them and me is that I am standing here, while they are not”.
Hats off dude. You hit the nail bang on its head.

Although my political affiliations are already in place, I am strongly against thrusting my choice, directly or packaged in suggestive propaganda, on others who are still in abeyance over their choice. I trust that everyone here is mature enough to take their own decision, and would not need surrogate propaganda to influence their decisions. (This blog, by the way, does not promote any candidate. Be your own man. Or woman.)
I found it to be particularly distasteful when some students sent out mass mails campaigning for the candidate of their choice, to further their own agenda.
Let’s not corrupt the politics at ISB. We have already lost our country to dirty politics. Let’s at least save our school.

Finally, on a funny note, during the rapid fire round, why did all the candidates mention “Mother Teresa” as their favorite non-political, non-business leader? Been watching too many of those Miss Universe competitions, me thinks. What’s next, “World Peace”?

NOTE: The above post is not meant to ridicule any person. It’s just my way of describing what I saw at the soap box (after editing out the best portions for fear of controversy), and is strictly restricted to my limited interactions with these candidates during the soap box. Also remember, this is MY blog. I am in creative control. Wink.

Almost Undone

2006-05-14T14:56:00.000+05:30

Yesterday I had a near-death experience, and am very grateful to the almighty to be still alive.

A seemingly mundane task of boiling milk turned into a deadly experience yesterday afternoon. After turning the gas stove on, I tried to twist the controlling dial towards the minimum flame position. Just as I did that, the controlling dial came apart, along with its spring and the holding screws. The very next moment, a sudden burst of flames rushed out of the hole exposed by the undone controlling dial, and hit me right in the face.

Instinctively, I rushed away from the kitchen to open the main door, fearing that the fire might spread rapidly. After a few seconds of waiting at the door, I rushed back to the kitchen since the fire had not yet, as of that moment, spread outside of the kitchen. I could see the flames blazing away, starting to consume the wooden cabinets. Luckily, the gas cylinder was still some distance from the fire, allowing me to quickly shut-down the gas- supply from the cylinder, thereby dousing the flames.

Although the fire had been put-off, it took me a while to get over the shock of having a sudden burst of fire straight in my face. For a moment, I had thought this was the end. And if the fire had reached the gas-cylinder, it sure would have been the end. But thankfully, what could have been a disaster was averted.

When I finally managed to regain composure, I saw myself in the mirror, with my hair covered in brown. The burst of flames had charred my hair brown, and left my face totally red. The smell of burnt hair and the burning sensation on my face subsided only after a couple of hours, and a bath.

Interestingly, while all this happened, the fire-alarm in the kitchen did not off. When I tried calling the Emergency Fire Helpdesk, I found it unmanned. Even the facilities helpdesk seemed completely apathetic towards my situation. For the premium price that we pay, at least the minimum emergency services would be expected. The utter inefficiency is really disturbing. I shudder to imagine my wife in the kitchen when that damn fire broke out.

Before I sign off, a special thanks to GR who immediately rushed to help douse the fire, and also used his local language skills to lambast the useless facilities guys here.

Shorts N Skirts Party

2006-05-12T17:53:00.000+05:30

Last night’s “Shorts n Skirts” party ( actually it turned out to be a “Short Skirts” party) was a welcome break from the monotony of the week. After subjecting ourselves to immense torture in the name of Marketing, Economics, Statistics and Accounting, not to mention the peer pressure and the various assignments, the party at the mirror pool was just the kind of distraction that all of us needed.

Although I turned up late, and remained mostly away from the water games, it wasn’t long before I too was pulled in by GR and gang. And once you’re wet, might as well enjoy it. Everyone seemed to have put their worries and books (not necessarily in that order) behind, and had turned up for a wild time.

Alcohol and smoke seemed to emanate from everywhere, and people, even the usually inhibited ones, decided to indulge in one or both the vices. People getting dunked in the shallow pool, and everyone kicking water into the poor dunked soul was the order of the day. Of course, both the dunked and the dunkers enjoyed the exercise just the same.

As the night progressed, and the effects of the alcohol started to show, the pool became a full-fledged dance floor. People were just about doing every kind of dance that one could think of. I spotted DM doing a modified “Moon-Wade” accompanied by frantic head-banging. Some of the spouses who had turned up to add variety to the party displayed their immense dancing talent, putting us students to shame.

With the way people were enjoying themselves, the party looked like it would go on all the way till morning. Not sure if it did, but I slipped away at sharp 2 AM, to save myself for the next day’s rigorous assignments.

Just before turning in for the night, GR, BS and I did a quick triple-ride on GR’s Yamaha to indulge our inebriated senses one last time. The security guard at the gate was obviously displeased at our audacity to ride triple despite his warning. But a little bit of defiance never hurt anyone. Or so we hoped.

After the quick ride, and another round of warnings and ugly stares from the wretched guard, I finally called it a day. Or night. Whatever.

My take-away from the party last night: Work Hard, Party Harder

Flop Show

2006-05-11T20:13:00.000+05:30

The verdict is out. Our marketing assignment was a big disaster!

After all the hype and hoopla about how we managed to out-think everyone else, the bubble finally burst when the Prof. showed us in today’s class how simple the whole damn thing was, and how totally wrong we were.

When we first looked at the case, our initial instinct was to tread the conventional, simple path. And if we had, we would have been bang on. But alas, we outsmarted ourselves by thinking that if the solution looked simple, it couldn’t be right. Talk about taking one’s self too seriously. We sure did.
And when we managed to conjure those complicated formulae and those magical numbers, our confidence knew no bounds. Each of us was congratulating the other for masterminding the “perfect solution”. Now when I think of it, I feel stupid.

But that’s the lesson for us. Complicating matters don’t always yield the right results. Simpler solutions might work just fine.

All my group-mates are obviously disappointed at having messed our first marketing assignment up. But a rude awakening right at the beginning is a whole lot better than a jolt in the finals. Now it’s up to us to ensure we learn from this, and make sure our next assignments turn out much better. Here’s a nugget that one of my group-mates gave us, for our future assignments:
Akal + Nakal = Safal.

Go figure!

Indian Giant on WWE - Dalip Singh

2006-05-11T01:04:00.000+05:30

For those of you who have been following WWE (or WWF if you are from the 1990’s), you must have surely wondered at the monster unveiled on Smackdown a few weeks ago. He goes by the screen name of “The Great Khali”, and is around 7 feet 2, weighing over 400 pounds. On his WWE debut, he manhandled the resident giant Undertaker, who almost looked like a midget jobber in front of the Great Khali.
Now, here’s the interesting bit about the Great Khali. His real name is Dalip Singh, and he is the first Indian citizen to make an impact in the Pro-wrestling world. Dalip was a road construction worker when he was spotted by a senior police officer. Soon, Dalip was in the Police Department, and gradually built his body to match his abnormal height.
He wrestled in Japan for a few years, and is a popular name there.
His debut in WWE is a matter of pride for all the Indian fans of the WWE. We finally have a huge Indian wrestler, from the land of the legendary Dara Singh, making a name on the international stage. Although the likes of Tiger Ali Singh and Tiger Jeet Singh were fairly popular wrestlers of Indian descent, they mostly wrestled in the independent promotions. Their few WWE appearances were mainly as jobbers for the more popular wrestlers. Dalip, on the other hand, is actually being billed by the WWE as the next big thing to dominate wrestling.
However, in the world of pro-wrestling, screen presence and microphone skills are more important than wrestling talent. Unfortunately, Dalip Singh appears rather lacking in those departments. So far, WWE has paired his character with the super-glib Daivari, to take the attention off Dalip’s poor microphone skills. Unless Dalip picks up some English soon, the creative control at WWE will have a hard time scripting his character, and might soon send him back to Ohio Valley Wrestling. Gibberish won't work for too long.
Coming back to Smackdown, Dalip’s character might soon be facing off with the Undertaker at an upcoming Pay-per-view. WWE has been billing the feud with great intensity, and knowing the way WWE wants to make every single extra buck that it can out of a story, I won’t be surprised if they let Dalip win a couple of matches against the Taker, before culminating the feud with a Taker victory at one of the bigger PPVs, like SummerSlam, or even Wrestle Mania 2007, if Dalip can last that long.
Although I am a huge Undertaker fan, I’d like The Great Khali to win just this one time against Taker. More importantly, however, I’d like the Great Khali to win over the audience, for that’s the only way to get a contract out of Vince McMahon.

General Ramblings

2006-05-06T08:51:00.000+05:30

Ever since I came to Hyderabad, all my posts have been focused around just one thing- ISB.

I do realize that variety is the spice of life, and of late, this blog is devoid of variety. This blog started out as a place for my ramblings about life in general, and ideally, it should remain that way. However, since these days, and for the next 12 months, I may not be having much of a life outside of the hallowed campus of ISB, it has become increasingly difficult to write about anything else.

Although we do have parties on weekends, they are mostly within the campus. There are people who go out to the city to sample life outside ISB. However, I haven’t made it out of the campus too many times. For one, going to a pub/disco is outrageously expensive when you don’t have an income, and even more so, when you have the specter of a huge loan hovering around your head. Secondly, being a married man, there is very little incentive to go to the pubs for me apart from getting to hear some good music. So I’d much rather get a crate of beer and guzzle in the peaceful confines of my home away from home here.

On the family front, wifey left for Bangalore last weekend, throwing me at the mercy of Sarovar Cafeteria. Food at the café is mostly alright, but not something that I would pay to eat everyday. Luckily for me, it’s only for two weeks, after which I should again be able to relish home food, carefully prepared by Rach in exact accordance with her recipe book.

Till she gets back, however, the onus on keeping the house in shape rests with me. And that includes the odd cooking assignments that I have to take up, followed by long cleaning sessions. These, coupled with the marketing and economics assignments, have kept me on my toes most of the time.

To my good fortune, my study group-mates are such intelligent and diligent creatures that they had the entire economics assignment done even before we met up to discuss it.
Although the guilt-factor has started to kick-in, I hope to make it up to them soon.

No CP, No Problem

2006-05-05T08:32:00.000+05:30

The bubble seems to have finally burst.
All the hype built around the CP factor has finally come unstuck. Apparently irritated by the over-exuberance of students in one of the sections, the professor finally let the cat out of the bag. Excessive CP is unnecessary since it does not affect grades too much. The CP grades for everyone lies there and thereabouts, and excessive CP does not translate to a huge difference in grades.
Now, that comes as a huge relief for some of us who are not very aggressive when it comes to cutting the prof’s lecture to pop an arbit question.
Putting it in an economist’s jargon, the CP elasticity of Grades is very LOW.

Addendum: Apparently CP does matter, and more so during the electives. Since this info came from an alum, there is no doubting it. But atleast, it isn't as bad as the hype built around it.

Brownie points, anyone?

2006-05-02T20:28:00.000+05:30

The first term at ISB has begun.

Everybody is busy prepping for the next lecture, and hoping to make that one special point that none of the previous sections did, to score that most-wanted Class Participation point. There are some who come to class bubbling with enthusiasm, having listed down pages and pages of points to make during class, while there are others who seem worried about someone else making that special point that they had so carefully conjured the previous night. In short, the first term has very clearly spelled out the trend for the coming year.
Intense competition.

And CP (I shall refer to Class Participation simply as CP from hereon, to ensure some letters on my keyboard don’t suffer irreparable damage) is a legal tool at ISB that empowers everyone to step on others’ feet to climb up the ladder. As one of my friends very candidly admitted, every single brownie point that you earn by way of CP could decide if you make that shortlist at McKinsey and Co.
CP is certainly a very innovative grading concept at ISB.

The other innovative grading concept at ISB is the Study Group concept. Students are randomly (or so they would like you to believe) aggregated into study groups of 5-6, and are then thrown the incentive to work well in tandem to garner those group assignment points. Needless to say, these points may also determine your fate when those consulting companies come looking.

Interestingly however, the two novelties in grading at ISB, at times, contradict each other.
When a study group analyzes a case scheduled to be discussed in the next day’s class, they share each other’s ideas and points. Next day, during the class, there is a very good chance that your group-mate could pull a fast one on you, and grab that CP point by making a point which was originally yours. Of course, it could also happen the other way round.
In either case, the third novelty at ISB, the Honor Code remains intact and un-violated.

This looming prospect of stealing each other’s CP points might actually deter people from indulging in healthy exchange of ideas in study groups.
Synergy be damned, CP rules.

An interesting situation, for sure. As we progress through the term, the ramifications of the controversial CP grading will start becoming apparent.
Till such time, I love my study group.

Probability Woes

2006-04-26T21:14:00.000+05:30

What is the probability of my getting through Business Statistics with at least a D, given everyone else manage to score at least C?
Frankly, not much, although the actual answer would require a lot of application of the Bayes’ Theorem for revised probability.

Well, this is basically how our probability cases have been. The question in the case seems pretty simple, but the answer turns out to be usually bizarre. And so far, I haven’t had too much luck in comprehending the complicated probability cases. To make things worse, I bumped into a fellow-student who rattled off all the answers even before I could blink. Apparently, the subject is not too tough. It’s just my brains that are too inadequate to handle them.

The funny thing though, is that all these problems are part of the pre-term course, which is an optional course. In fact, the school expects the students to have at least the basic knowledge of these concepts to be able to dabble in more complicated problems during the core terms.

Somehow, I am already feeling overwhelmed by the high expectations that ISB has of its students. Is there a chance for normal (read as not specially gifted) guys like me to survive the ISB regimen?
Well, if 400 others can, then so can I. That’s my magic mantra.
The Herd Mentality.

Study Groups at ISB

2006-04-25T12:45:00.000+05:30

Our study group finally met up yesterday. After a lot of deliberation due to schedule mismatch, we finally got together for a casual “ice-breaking” session. Needless to say, there were lots of inputs from all quarters as to how we could maximize our potentials through the study group.

However, since most of us have studied only in India, and our education system does not quite encourage study groups, it remains to be seen if we manage to really use the group to our advantages. Also, since some of us, including myself, have never done a case-analysis, the need to work in a group is all the more essential.

Luckily, diversity will never be a problem within this group, since we have 3 IT guys, 1 Automobile engineer, a CA, and a marketing UG from Wharton (!!!). Hopefully, there will be a good exchange of knowledge between the engineers and the non-engineers.

Although we have been clearly told that we have to work with our study groups, whether we like it or not, it remains to be seen how these groups are going to work together. These are early days, and hopefully, D2 should come through in flying colors. Just like every other group.

To Blog or not to Blog

2006-04-23T14:21:00.000+05:30

The blogging community at ISB have had a couple of meetings already. I have, not surprisingly, missed all of them. As much as I would like to be a part of the official ISB blog, the idea of a censored blog does not quite appeal to me. Also, I am told that one needs to continuously keep churning out posts after posts to keep the blog ticking. Unfortunately, I have a very rigid mind, which at times, refuses to budge from its position of non-creativity. And during such phases, I strictly stay away from blogging.
If I were a more serious and even slightly credible writer, I could even have called my condition “Writer’s Block”.
Coming back to the point about censored blogs, the very spirit of blogging lies in the fact that you write what you chose. If I had to write based on topics that someone else chooses or approves, and also adhere to certain guidelines on the content and structure, then I would have become a scribe instead.
Blogging, for me, is strictly personal, and is totally in my own creative control. Maybe, I could write an article or two for the ISB blogs as a guest columnist, if there is such a provision.

It's Party Time

2006-04-23T09:49:00.000+05:30

There was yet another party last night. The third party within my first week at ISB. From the mails that followed the party, I believe it was a rocking affair. I was, however, busy snoring away on my first and, probably, the last relatively stress-free weekend.
That’s not to say I am not a party animal. I am, and quite a wild one at that. However, last night, I preferred to start and finish my party well before midnight. A couple of beers, in the confines of my studio, with a friend for company, over intellectually stimulating conversation summed up my party last night. At the end of it all, I was not much for another wild time at the section party, and decided to give it the slip.
But for all my section mates who turned out in their best party manners, and even braved the dunking sessions, “Go D Go!”.
And if you’re still down with hangover, my silent prayers are with your “D-Partied” soul.

The ISB Orientation

2006-04-22T15:18:00.000+05:30

It’s been exactly a week since I arrived at the ISB, Hyderabad. And am already stressed out. If this is a sign of things to come, God help me.
The first week at ISB has been a mixed bag of sorts. When I came in here, I had lofty expectations of what this school can do to my career. Consulting and I-Banks were where I was hoping to head right after ISB. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I even harbored hopes of becoming the next crorepati from ISB.
One week down the line, I have been cut down to size by the innumerable gyan sessions that our alums conducted ever so enthusiastically for us. There were lots of gyan that were given away, but the biggest takeaway, for me, has been the realization, in no unclear terms, that career shifts don’t happen that easily in a one-year MBA program. McKinsey and the likes will shortlist only the top 30 students, while I-Banks rarely ever look outside of the pool of people with prior experience in finance. I don’t expect to make it to the top 30, and I have no prior experience in finance.
Guess that leaves me with the only obvious option. IT. Which is where I came from, throwing away a decent package and several lucrative opportunities. The irony, as revealed by the alum who conducted the session for the IT club, is that 75% of IT placements offer salaries lower than the school’s average of around 12 L INR. Now compare that to the 12 L plus salary that I could easily have commanded and got if I continued being a techie. Also consider the fact that I would not have a monstrous 15 Lac loan hanging heavy on my head.
Suddenly, I almost feel foolish for throwing it all away to chase a dream. The B-school dream.
The only comforting thought, as someone put
“ The value of a B-school education is not just financial”.
Sour grapes, as most of my ex-colleagues with bulging pockets must be thinking, with wicked smiles pasted all over their faces.
However, the school has been absolutely forthright about what to expect and what not to expect. Miracles rarely happen within a year. Hopefully, in the long run, I will realize the true value of an MBA at the ISB.
Till such time, and atleast for the next one year, it's going to be a stressful time.

The Storm - A Short Story (Final Part)

2006-03-27T10:20:00.000+05:30

As the car turned in to the little road leading to the mound, Bob quipped
"You really think your car would still be where you left it, after last night's storm?"
"Well, it survived because the storm was in a hurry to go to the top. Pity the barn was almost razed" Kelly said.
"What barn?" Bob was surprised.
"Old Rupert's barn. That's where I spent last night, and that’s how I survived the storm. The old man's a nice guy, although you wouldn’t know by looking at him" Kelly smiled.
"I have driven by this road several times, and I don’t remember seeing any barn. Are you sure?" he asked.
"Of course, but I have to ask Rupert about Joe's garage. There is no such place" she continued.
"Joe's Garage? That’s where my dad used to work. But how do you know about it?" he was surprised.
"I went looking for Joe's Garage off the first exit, and couldn’t find anything. Just an old house. And the old lady doesn’t even talk" Kelly complained.
"That's Joe's wife Martha. She used to be a nice lady, but now, she's so old that she hardly understands anything. After Joe's death, she closed the Garage and it is now just a small little house" Bob explained
"Oh, so Rupert wasn’t lying. But when did the garage close?" Kelly asked
"Right after Joe died. About 14 years ago" Bob answered.
"14 years? I wonder why Rupert didn’t know that" she was surprised.
"We'll ask your old Rupert when we get there. How much longer?" Bob was growing impatient.
"Almost there. I think I can spot the car" Kelly screamed.
"But shouldn’t there be a barn right about somewhere around here, as you have been claiming?" Bob asked, with a smirk on his face.
"Oh, but it is, right here, on that mound..." and she turned around towards the empty space where the barn had been the previous night.
"I don’t see anything there. Is that where you survived the whole of last night?" Bob quizzed.
Kelly was in a shock.She had spent the whole night at the barn, and now, there was no sign of the structure!
"How can it be? I swear there was a barn here last night. And now it’s gone. And what happened to Rupert? Where did he disappear?" Kelly turned to Bob in disbelief.

Bob's face had turned pale. There was an unusual quiver in his voice.
"What did you say Rupert's last name was?"
"Jones, I think. The family photograph that Rupert had framed had "Jones Family" written in bold" Kelly remembered.
Bob was sweating profusely, and a strange fear was written all over his face.

"There was a series of twisters that hit this town 17 years ago. Several houses and families perished to the storm. I had read that one of the families that got washed away included one Rupert Jones, who lived on a barn up the mound"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kelly looked one last time at the barn that never was, as she got into the tow-truck. She knew her life had changed forever since then. A dead man had come back only to save her. She felt a strange sense of security. That someone up there cared for her. A lot of things had happened in her life, but this one incident put everything in perspective.

A dead man, who she had no connection to, had crossed the dimensions of death, to save her.
Although it raised a lot of questions in her head, she had a strange feeling of calmness.

Of someone assured with the knowledge of life. And beyond.

The Storm - A Short Story (Part 3)

2006-03-27T10:17:00.000+05:30

It was almost an hour till Kelly finally spotted the highway. She had hoped to hitchhike a ride till the highway. But had ended up walking all the way till the highway since she hadn’t come across any motorist on the desolate service road. Her daily routine of morning jogs had come of great use to cover the 6 miles to the highway.

When a trucker finally stopped to offer her a ride till the nearest Auto Service center, Kelly realized how tired she was when she gulped down an entire bottle of Gatorade to the amazement of the kind trucker.

"How did a girl like you end up on that weird road leading to the old mound?" he questioned her.
"I am looking for a mechanic to fix my car. Could you drop me till Joe's Garage, by the next exit?" Kelly pleaded.
"I could, if there was any garage there. I don’t think there is any garage for the next 4 exits" he said.
"Oh, I am told there is. So if you could drop me off at the next exit, I will find my way" Kelly suggested.
"Alright, I will help you find the place if there is one where you say it should be" he agreed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the truck got off the exit, Kelly could spot only a small old house a few yards from the road. She got off the truck, and walked to the house. She spotted an old woman, in her 80s, sitting on the porch reading her bible. Kelly walked up to her, and introduced herself

"Hello, I am looking for Joe's Garage. Could you direct me to it?”
The old lady looked up for a moment, but went back to reading her bible the next moment.
Kelly tried talking to the lady, but to no avail. Finally, Kelly gave up, and walked back to the truck.
"Guess you’re right. There is no garage here"
"Let me take you to the Jiffy Lube at the fourth exit. They should be able to send a mechanic to fix your car" the trucker insisted.
"Thanks, I really appreciate your help".

The Storm - A Short Story (part 2)

2006-03-27T10:12:00.000+05:30

Kelly got up, and walked up the dungeon. Her morning alarm had woken her up at sharp 5 AM, as had been her regimen everyday for the past 5 years.

The storm had passed, but had left a wreck in its place. The whole cabin had been ransacked, and furniture thrown everywhere. She could see that the little cabin had put up a fight against the might of the storm, but had finally given in. The storm had reduced the place to a few standing walls, amidst a wooden wreck of debris. The roof had been mostly uprooted, and there were gaping holes in the few walls that had survived the storm.

Rupert slowly managed to get up, and walk up to see the damage to his house. Unusually, his face did not betray any emotion. He seemed least bothered about the fact that his house had been wrecked.

"This doesn’t look good Rupert. This place is gonna take a while to be restored. Maybe you should live in the town till the barn is rebuilt" Kelly tried to comfort him.
"Don’t worry about me. I have friends around here. I will manage. What's more important is that you are fine" Rupert said.

Kelly knew from the look on Rupert's face that there was no point in trying to make him change his mind.
Dawn was about to break. Kelly walked down the mound to see if her car had still stood its ground after the previous night's storm. Luckily for her, she had parked the car at the lowest point below the mound, a little away from the cabin. The storm had ascended too fast, and had therefore, miraculously missed the car.

"If I start early, I could still make it on time for that meeting" she figured.
Rupert was visibly tired after all the intense activity, and his old frame looked rather pale.
"Well, since I am alive, and all my bones are in place, I think I should start early, and go to the town to find a mechanic " Kelly said.
Rupert just nodded his head, with a wry smile on his face, which failed to betray his frail state.
"Joe's Lubes is just off the first exit on the Highway, when you get on it. And it's open all night".
"Thanks Rupert, I am really grateful to you. And I didn’t mean to be, although I came across as rather rude" Kelly said, ashamed at her preconceived perceptions about the character of an old man who had saved her from a certain death.

The Storm - A Short Story (Part 1)

2006-03-27T09:48:00.000+05:30

"Think it's going to rain real bad", Rupert observed, looking at the dark clouds looming large in the evening sky. The mountains overlooking the horizon had become blurred, indicating that the clouds had already precipitated in the hills. The green view of the hills had turned into a mild shade of silver, due to the pouring rain.
"Looks like the floodgates to heaven have opened", quipped Kelly in reply.
"Did you say heaven?" he asked with a wicked grin.
"Huh?" shrugged Kelly, almost disinterested and lost in her thoughts.

It had been a long day for her. She had driven the whole day to get back to Albany, from Orlando. Her best friend Kate had finally fallen in love, and had decided to marry Steven Bloom, the suave Television anchor on Fox. The wedding was a grand affair at Steve's private ranch in Orlando. She was still reeling from the late night partying that followed the lavish wedding. Steve had just been confirmed for a reality Horror show, and had therefore based his party on the same theme. Dressing up like a Witch had been Kelly's favorite Halloween pastime, and she had enjoyed all the scares that she attracted at the party for her act.
The only complaint had been that she had had very little sleep since she had to start at 6 AM in order to be able to make it to NY in time for Tuesday's meeting at work.

"This place is getting eerie" she mumbled incoherently.
"Shouldn’t that be my line?" Rupert grinned sheepishly, pointing at Kelly's mascara smudged eyes.

Kelly cursed herself for not being careful enough to remove the Halloween makeup. She had overslept due to all that alcohol, and had not had enough time for a decent shower. The wiry, permed hair and the dark mascara had looked funny in the morning. Not anymore, thought Kelly.

Kelly had been fortunate to have found shelter at Rupert's barn. Her 1986 Oldsmobile had died on her right in the middle of a desolate jungle. She had strayed off the Highway on a shorter road that allowed her to skip the Toll gates. And as luck would have it, her car had broken down right in the middle of nowhere. Rupert had seen her blinking lights, and had walked down to her from his barn up the hillock.

His lean frame looked weathered, yet his eyes had a distant sparkle of a man who had once seen a lot of joy. His face and hair were unkempt, but still left him attractive in a weird way. Beneath his rough exterior, his eyes seemed to betray his soft self. Kelly had almost immediately agreed to his offer of shelter in the wild.

Rupert had looked down the bonnet, and had pronounced the car "Impossible to fix". Kelly knew better than to believe him, but she knew that her Olds had run beyond its norm, and she had been pushing her luck. But nothing that a mechanic in Albany can’t fix, she thought.

Rupert's barn was a huge cabin like structure built on top of a mound, just behind the peak, such that it would be completely hidden from the road. The dense vegetation also added to the anonymity of the place. Rupert must like his privacy, she thought.

Dinner was a badly cooked barbecue, which he claimed to be his game. Kelly hated the food, and therefore, seemed disinterested in discussing about his hunting habits. Must be a rabbit, she thought.

As the rain started to pour, the barn became very cold. Kelly was trying to keep herself warm by moving closer to the barbecue flames which were fighting a lost cause against the calamitous winds. Rupert had disappeared into his dungeon, right after dinner, and had not re-emerged for the next two hours.

When he finally came out, he had a coat of fox fur which he offered to Kelly.
“This should keep you warm" he mumbled, and then disappeared into his dungeon.
Kelly tried to sleep, but had weird nightmares every time she sank into slumber.
She kept herself busy thinking about the great time she had had at the wedding. But somehow, there was always an uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched all the time.

She found an old radio on the corner table, and decided that it would keep her company till morning.
"Anything to keep me awake in this weird house" she uttered to herself.

The newsreader on radio was announcing that the storm had worsened and a blizzard was heading south. There were warnings issued for people to take refuge in concrete, blizzard-proof structures. The announcement on radio worsened Kelly's fears since the barn did not look to be the safest place to be in, when the blizzard came visiting. She spent the next few minutes praying hard when Rupert re-emerged from the dungeon with a worried look on his face.

"You know the twister is headed our way" he spoke, almost startling a half-asleep Kelly.
"Maybe you should help me carry the food stuff down into the cellar, rather than just sit there and give me those looks" he continued, with an irritated shrug.

Within the next 10 minutes, Kelly and Rupert managed to stock the cellar up with food, warm clothes, and water. The radio predicted the twister to hit the jungle in another 20 minutes.

"This should last us for a couple of days, although am not sure if we would last till then" Rupert joked, pouring himself a glass of wine. Kelly noticed that the cellar had several bottles of wine stored.
"At least something good about this place" she consoled herself, while pouring herself some wine too.

The next 30 minutes were spent in silent anticipation of the twister. At 3:20 AM in the night, Kelly could feel a sudden stillness in the air. She knew right away that they were just seconds away from the twister.
And then it arrived.
The whole house began to shake due to the sheer force of the twister. Kelly could hear the thumping noise of the furniture being dashed against the floor of the house, from beneath in the basement. Everything above seemed to have been thrown about by the mad rage of the twister. Kelly and Rupert hung on to the iron hoops along the walls of the cellar, chanting silent prayers to allay their fears. The next few minutes seemed like an eternity, with the ravaging storm growing seemingly stronger in its pursuit of destruction, with every passing minute.

And then it all suddenly stopped. The madness. The rage.
"She's gone, and we’re still alive" Rupert sighed in relief.
"Thank God the dungeon held up against the brute force" Kelly mumbled.

She was, grudgingly, grateful to Rupert for saving her from an almost certain death.

Goodbye or Good Riddance?

2006-03-09T11:57:00.000+05:30

Yesterday, I finally resigned formally from the organization that I had given my blood and sweat to for the past 6 and half years.

There was a strange sense of loss even as I was filling in the Separation Form. Having started my career as a junior software engineer, I graduated through the ranks to finally end up where I did. The journey, despite all the shortcomings and the denied opportunities, had its good moments. So many experiences. So many memories. So many changes that my life went through while I was part of this organization.
Surely, IBM will remain very close to my heart.
It wasn't the perfect organization to work for. But then no organization is perfect. The fact that I didn’t ever seriously think about quitting in the past 6 and half years is proof that there was something innately good about working for this organization.

For all the good things about this place, there is one big aspect where this organization is a big letdown. And I am not even talking about salaries here. The moment I told them I cannot be persuaded to stay back, there was a sudden chill in their attitude. Although I asked to be relieved only end of this month, or early next month, the direction from the management was very clear.
GO NOW.

They insisted that I wind up my act at the soonest, and leave. Not just that, they are going to adjust my balance leaves against the notice period that I will not be serving. Sad, considering that although I was willing to serve at least most part of the notice period, the organization has forced me out by end of next week.

Anyways, I can't complain too much since this is strictly business. And they must have several such people to get rid off, and therefore, cannot afford an emotional farewell to every employee who resigns.

At least now, I won’t have the slightest guilt in not naming IBM as one of the companies that I would want to work for post-MBA.

Goodbye.

International Women's Day

2006-03-08T16:39:00.000+05:30

A special thanks to the two women who define my very existence.
The mother and the wife.

It's amazing how easy it is to take them for granted, just because they don't mind.
Or even if they did, it doesn't matter since they will still continue to love us anyways.
It's funny how we know that we take them for granted, and yet don't do anything to change it.

But Men, being intelligent species, realized that sooner than later, it was inevitable that women would rebel. There was only so much that they would take, and once that limit was crossed, they would make life miserable for their men.

At this point, a genius among the male species spoke.

"How about setting aside one day in a year to appreciate the women of this world? That way they will also feel special, even if it's for only one day in a year".

Men being men, a few of them had apprehensions.

"That leaves us with only 364 days of bossing around in a year. Aren't you asking too much from us? Being magnanimous is one thing, but this is plain sacrifice"

The genius pacified the detractors again.

"Considering that there will be leap years, we will still have 365 days of domination once in 4 years. And if you want the bigger joys, you will have to be prepared for a few sacrifices, however tough it may be".

Finally, after a lot of convincing, all the men agreed to celebrate the women of the world on one day each year.
Today is that day.

Happy International Women's Day.

More Chappells thrown at Ganguly

2006-03-07T16:53:00.000+05:30

Greg Chappell's unprovoked statements against Saurav Ganguly re-ignited what most of us Cricket-lovers thought was dead and buried. Just like Saurav Ganguly himself was, in the words of Kiran More, who clearly mentioned that Saurav will not be considered for selection in future irrespective of his domestic performances.

Greg Chappell, in conversation with The Guardian, went on to talk about how important being the captain was to Saurav's life and finances. The not-so-clever use of the word "finances" triggered a whole new wave of outrage not only from the usual Saurav fans, but also from the Saurav bashers. Greg Chappell, through such unwarranted accusations, is proving himself to be the master of under-handed attacks. Remember, Greg Chappell was the captain who instructed his brother Trevor to bowl under-arm in an ODI against New Zealand some 25 years back. And we sure seem to be witnessing history repeat itself.

What this whole incident did was to infuse new life into Saurav Ganguly's chances of making it back into the team. Till a few days ago, everyone except Bengalis and die-hard Saurav fans had forgotten about Saurav in the wake of Team India's recent successes in Pakistan. Yuvraj Singh, the man whose inevitable inclusion in the team led to Saurav's exit, had played in such breath-taking fashion that people started asking "Saurav who?” But with Chappell's ill-timed, ill-witted statements, Saurav may just have won his cap back.

As if Chappell's foolishness was not adequate, Kiran More, the chairman of selectors, issued another inciting statement when he said that Saurav will not be considered for selection even if he performs extremely well in the domestic matches. That statement, in principle, amounts to an open admission of a completely undemocratic selection procedure. Any person, whatever his age is, if he is playing well, should be considered for selection. Please note that "Playing Well" includes all the aspects of cricket such as fielding and training too. If Saurav Ganguly can prove to be a good cricketer again, there is no reason why Mr. More should prevent him from returning to the squad.

Between Mr. More's lack of political correctness and Chappell's reluctance to get over his hatred for Saurav, the one man who has benefited the most is Saurav Ganguly himself. As a cricket fan, I would love to see Saurav earn his place back in the team, and return to the glorious form that he once displayed. However, I would not like him to be a part of the team for anything less than his best form. Unfortunately, due to the current sympathy wave that looks to be emerging in Saurav's favor, he might just be back in the team, albeit not on merit.

In a nation that runs more on emotion than on reason, the biggest loser, if that happens, could be our beloved Team India.

Goodbye Vasanth

2006-03-07T13:27:00.000+05:30

March 05, 2006. Sunday. Around 7 PM.
A family of 5 is driving back to Bangalore from Tirupathi, in their new car. A young man, all of 24 years, is behind the wheel, driving along the highway as he has so many times in the past. His uncle had bought a new car, and had planned to visit Tirupathi over the weekend with wife and twin daughters. Since he was known to be a very good driver, his uncle asked him to accompany them to the sacred shrine.

On the way back, about 10 kms from Kolar towards Bangalore, he is driving through a series of treacherous curves on the highway. To avoid the muddy lane, he steers the car just a wee bit to the right, almost to the center of the road. An oncoming tanker appears out of the blind curve. Before he realizes, it's all over.

A head-on collision so strong that it split the Santro into two halves. His uncle died on the spot with his skull busted open. He suffered internal bleeding, with ruptured testicles, and finally succumbed on way to the hospital. The 3 women in the backseat are seriously injured, and are being treated even as I write this.

The sight of a motionless 24 year old cousin, seemingly at complete peace with himself, was horrific. As I bent down to place the rice grains at his mouth, as per Hindu tradition, I saw his face from up close, almost without any visible injuries.

Visions of a 9 year old kid pleading with me to teach him to ride a bicycle flashed before me. It seemed like only yesterday that the two of us were at the annual fair at Ragigudda, trying to shoot balloons with an air-rifle, and attempting to carefully aim and throw the metal ring over that elusive box of Parle-G biscuits.
So many memories played in front of my misty eyes that I couldn’t conceal the smile on my face.

And then when all the mist cleared, I was again staring at reality.
A still, lifeless body being carried into the funeral van. For the last ride.
Goodbye Vasanth.

May God give your parents the strength to handle the enormousness of your loss, and the will to live on with your memories.

They say if you are genuinely missed by at least a few people after you die, then you have had a good life. Going by that measurement, you've had a truly great life.

Wherever you are, I know you will still continue to make a difference to everyone around you.
In life. And in death.

To ISB or US-B ?

2006-03-01T11:25:00.000+05:30

The scales have almost completely titled in favor of my joining ISB, irrespective of the verdict from the US B-schools. Unless someone makes a tempting scholarship offer, I won’t probably change my mind about ISB.

Despite the fact that it does not enjoy a global reputation yet, my reasons for preferring ISB are simple.

- 15 Lac INR is a much lesser gamble than 60 Lac INR that a top B-School in US would cost.
- That would also mean that I will have the freedom to take up jobs in India or abroad, since I won’t be buried in loans for too many years.
- I will have more creative freedom to take risks in the pursuit of my entrepreneurial ventures, which I would have had to seriously compromise had I joined a US B-school due to the sheer magnitude of the debt that I would have incurred for the education.
- Dr. R can practice her trade if I am in India, but can’t if I move to US. And as a responsible husband, I have to respect my wife’s career as well.
- Finally, ISB is a 1 year program, which makes life so much easier.

A few drawbacks though.

- Placements might not be as great since INR always pales in comparison to USD.
- Due to ISB being a fairly new school, the alumni network is not as strong as some of the other top B-schools.
- Bad publicity from some quarters about ISB being all hype and no substance.

Also, I have noticed a strong resentment among the non-IIM B-schools like SPJMR, XLRI, NMIMS, etc towards ISB. Most of them dismiss ISB as all hype, and too expensive. I can’t dispute the fact that ISB is way too expensive compared to the other Indian B-schools. But again, ISB is supposed to be an international B-school, and therefore, it is priced accordingly. Further, this being a 1-year program, the opportunity costs are that much lesser too.

About the general resentment that other Indian B-schools harbor against ISB, it is probably because these non-IIM schools, despite being extremely good, are still considered a rung below the big 4 IIMs, while ISB, within a few short years, is considered on par, if not higher, than IIMs.
Not surprisingly, many feel that ISB has had it a little too easy.

My take on this:
Kudos to the ISB Marketing team for having done such a fabulous job in creating a massive brand in such a short time.

Finally, ISB calls!

2006-02-28T10:56:00.000+05:30

Last night, ISB R2 admits were sent out, and I happened to be one of the privileged few to receive an admit!
Whew! Finally, something went right.

Right now, I am more relieved than happy. Because this means that I am going someplace this year, for sure.

I am yet to receive the results from McCombs and Duke, but the fact that I have one admit already makes the wait a lot easier.
Come to think of it, even if I do get into McCombs, I’d rather prefer ISB to it since McCombs is a big money gamble, and I wont even get a loan from US (due to their stupid co-signer requirements).

So right now, it is only Duke that can make me change my mind about joining ISB.
Obviously Duke-Fuqua is too great an opportunity to miss, if I do get an admit. But again, it’s 4 times as expensive as ISB, and takes twice the time as ISB to earn an MBA degree. US Schools are always a big gamble, but they also pay-off better than non-US schools.

Well, right now, since I haven’t got anything from Duke yet, there is no point in romanticizing the dilemma.
And even if I do manage to get into the beautiful dilemma, a problem of plenty is always better than the other way round!

Jessica Lal Verdict- The Death Of Justice

2006-02-23T13:35:00.001+05:30

"Justice Delayed is Justice Denied" is one of the basic tenets of jurisprudence.
In India, we say that with more punch. "Justice Delayed to ensure Justice Denied".
That sums up the Jessica Lal murder trial verdict.

The sheer mockery of the entire justice system in India that this verdict represents has disillusioned the whole nation. A cold-blooded murder, in full view of over 100 people, is finally dismissed for want of eye-witness evidence. And that, after 6 years from the day of the crime.

It is almost customary these days for the rich and powerful to get away with any criminal offence, and the Jessica Lal verdict only adds further proof to the anarchy that has descended on our legal system. The fact that Manu Sharma shot Jessica Lal for refusing him a drink in full view of so many elite people at the party should have made this a prima facie case of murder. An Open and Shut case. However, the rich and powerful very conveniently bought the judicial system, to first delay justice to 6 years giving them enough time to ensure all the witnesses turned "hostile", and then to have a totally incredulous "Not guilty" verdict in their favor.

Some of the key witnesses who turned hostile include famous models and socialites. The cruelest blow was dealt by one spineless rogue called Shayan Munshi. Munshi, an actor in the Bollywood Film Industry, was also serving liquor to the guests, along with Jessica, and was a key eye-witness to the murder. However, he turned hostile and claimed that he was not even at the party on the night of the murder.

When Jessica Lal, herself being a top model, could not get justice, there is little hope for the common man. The incident not only exposes the weak value system in our society where witnesses turn hostile overnight, but also raises some very important questions about our legal system.

The legal system needs to tighten its perjury laws, to ensure witnesses cannot retract their statements with such wanton ease. The current law prohibits the witnesses from signing their statements, and is therefore, an open invitation for witnesses to turn hostile. If the perjury laws were strong enough, witnesses would not find it as convenient to turn hostile due to the repercussions of "lying under oath".

Secondly, verdicts should not rely so heavily on eye-witness evidence, but should also consider circumstantial evidence. In the Jessica Lal murder case, most hostile witnesses either claimed that they were not at the scene of crime, or that they didn’t actually see Manu Sharma fire the bullet at Jessica although they saw him fleeing with his gun. On circumstantial evidence, this would have been enough to nail Manu Sharma, but unfortunately, the system begs for eye-witness.

Further, the great problem for jurisprudence in our country is that although the system is over-reliant on eye-witness evidence, there is no Witness Protection Program to prevent witnesses from being bribed or threatened into turning hostile. In cases when the witness remains defiant, the loopholes in our system makes it fairly easy for the accused to simply eliminate the witness.

The most glaring loophole, however, is the fact that the case dragged on for 6 long years.
When all the eye-witness evidences were available, why wasn’t Manu Sharma tried sooner?
6 years is too long a time for even the bravest of witnesses to stand by his/her statement, in the face of threats and pressure. Add to that the fact that all the accused people were let out on bail, paving way for more foul play. The inability of the police to recover the weapon which was used to fire the mysterious "second" bullet adds more credibility to the conspiracy theory.

The entire country knows Manu Sharma killed Jessica Lal, but yet, the man walks free by law.
This incident could have far more dangerous implications since this might be construed as an assurance that people with financial and political clout can flout the law whenever they please and easily get away with it. For a country that is already simmering with anger and discontentment over the various media exposes, ranging from the "Tehelka expose" to the recent "CNN IBN Sting Operation", the Jessica Lal verdict could just be the "Tipping Point".

"Rang De Basanti", the recent blockbuster that was based on corrupt politics finally leading to a social revolution, may not seem so unreal anymore.

Back to Blogspot

2006-02-20T18:31:00.000+05:30

Have been inactive on blogspot for an entire year.
I had been posting my ramblings on rediffblogs for the past year. After trying out both blogspot and rediffblogs, I am now convinced this is the best place to be.
I intend to be back on blogspot from now.
A few posts will be copied over from my other blog, over the next few days, due to want of original posting material.

Gastronomic Nightmares

2006-02-20T18:17:00.000+05:30

It happened when I was in std 8th. Mom had been transferred to a far off place, and couldnt impress upon her superiors to move her back to Bangalore. Dad had, therefore, inherited the kitchen. Food would mostly be alright, but there were times when Dad would outdo himself, and cook a fantasy dinner that we thought should stay only in fantasies. But since brother and I were kids with a paltry pocket money of Rs.50 per month, which would mostly be spent on the first weekend after receiving it, we had to force ourselves to like everything that Dad cooked. It was only later that I realised that going hungry is a lot less harmful than eating bad food.

One fateful evening, Dad decided to cook something exotic. I dont remember what it was, but it smelled like volcanic ash. And it tasted just as hot. Since we dont hail from Andhra, and we dont even have any remote ancestral links with Andhra Pradesh, the gene for digesing spicy food was never inherited. Not even the recessive variety. But Dad believed in the "All humans are evolved from the same ancestors" theory, and insisted we eat the spicy volcanic ash that he had conveniently branded as food.

Armed with a bucket full of water, sweetened by a generous helping of sugar, Bro and I went through the ordeal. We had to eat till the entire ash was consumed, since my Dad was strictly against wasting food. Brother suggested that we save some of it for later, hoping that would give us sufficient time to dig a big pit in the neighbour's backyard and dump the food so that nobody could find it. However, Dad was quick to see through his plan, and warned us that the food would get hotter when it turns cold. Some oxymoron that. So we cursed and ranted and cried and ate the entire lava , while all the time emptying bucket loads of sweetened water and draining our watery noses with turkey towels (since all our hand kerchiefs were dripping wet).

The next morning, I had to excuse myself atleast thrice during class, to relieve myself in the loo. As luck would have it, it was a Tuesday. And Tuesdays were dry days in Bangalore since there would be no water running in the taps. I dare not explain how I came clean out of my predicament. But I have faint memories of all my fellow students reaching for scented kerchiefs the moment I came back to the class. Someone later told me it was chemistry class, and they were discussing Hydrogen Sulphide.
But I know better than to believe it.

Valentine's Day

2006-02-20T18:08:00.000+05:30

P.S. This post was written on Feb 15th, but has been posted on Feb 20th.

It was Valentine's Day yesterday. And I managed to pick up a rose for my wife just before I went home at 930 PM. Luckily for me, she didn’t seem too upset by my late ways. In fact, it appears that she has given up on me.

That was my V-day. But the rest of the country seems to have woken up to love in a really big way.
The V-day festivities begin in early February, and linger on till the end of the month. Barista and Cafe Coffee Day outlets seem to be in a competition to outdo each other in ushering in the spirit of St.Valentine.

Last weekend, the waiter at Barista tried every clichéd trick in his book of marketing to sell my friend and me one of those mushy stuffed teddy toys to gift our girlfriends on Valentine's Day. We put up a brave front, and refused him every single time. But he kept coming back with more and better offers. Due to his insisting, my friend decided to buy it for his girlfriend.

After scanning through the variety of stuffed toys on display, he finally decided to buy the huge cute teddy that adorned the top shelf.

My friend walked up to the waiter and asked him
“So you think that huge Teddy would make a perfect Valentine's Day gift?".

The waiter smiled.
"Sir, I can assure you that you will receive VIP Treatment from madam on V-day if you give her this gift".

My friend was convinced. He asked the waiter to wrap the gift in mushy colors and lace befitting the Valentine's Day spirit. Just when he was about to pay up, he noticed another small, little teddy thrown away in a corner.

"How much for that little teddy?" he asked.

"Sir, that one's been discarded since it is too dirty. But if you like it, I will give it to you as a free compliment" the waiter offered.

"Great. Wrap that one too, and stick a message saying 'To my dear wife'. I don't want her feeling left out on Valentine's Day"

My friend must have had a blast yesterday. I called him at home last night, but his wife told me he hadn’t yet come back from work. I asked her if she got the Big Teddy or the small one.
She just said
"You mean there was a Big Teddy? That b@#$*#".

I am yet to hear from him about how his Valentine's Day went.
But I am sure he had a Blast.

McCombs Interview

2006-02-20T18:03:00.000+05:30

Finally, I’m done with all the B-school interviews. For this year.

The telephonic interview with the McCombs School was a cakewalk. But all my interviews so far have all been cakewalks. Or so I thought till the results came out.

And there's no reason to believe this one might be any different. So I'm trying to stay grounded and not let my hopes soar too high. I'm bracing myself up for more failures, and am already chalking out plans for the B Schools that I should apply to next year.

Anyways, here's a gist of the interview. The guy called me at sharp 1130 PM, as scheduled. Because the first time he called, the line had seemed so muffled, when he called the second time, I started the conversation trying to check if the line was clear, and if there were any disturbance etc. In the process, I missed the pleasantries, and didn’t even ask him how he was doing.

Next, I addressed him by his first name, and then sought his permission to do so. That could be a minus or a plus, depending on whether you're an optimist or a pessimist. I'm an optimist, and I would like to believe that by getting rid of the formality proactively, I was making a point about my networking skills.

Some of the key questions:
1. Why do you want to do an MBA now, and why McCombs?
Clichéd, and oft-exploited. Did a convincing job.

2. What do you want to do post-MBA?
Another expected one. Told him clearly that I intend to stay put in IT, and take up higher roles involving organizational management, rather than just a micro-level project management role that I currently do. Also told him about my entrepreneurial intentions.

3. Questions about my co-curriculars, sports, cricket, and about the charity activities that I had mentioned in my resume. He specifically asked me about each charity activity that I had mentioned, and I described them in lurid detail, and he seemed impressed (I hope).

4. How long have I been in the US, where, why etc.

5. One instance from my professional life where I have turned around a project with my leadership skill.

6. Have I worked in a team environment, and my view on teamwork?
I waxed eloquent on this one, since I have been leading teams for 3 years now.

7. Why a US B-school, and why not Western Europe or any other place? Is it because I work for an American company?
I told him about the education standards in US being the best in the whole world, with some of the best institutions operating out of the country. And I want to associate myself with the best and hence US.

Then there were some questions from my side about the loan options at McCombs, and why they don’t have a facility for loan without co-signor requirements. Also, asked about study groups, Venture Fellows at McCombs, Job opportunities on campus etc.

Finally, we exchanged thank you's and he wished me the best, irrespective of "whether I come to McCombs or join some other B-School".
That last statement left me bewildered.

Results will be out in 2 weeks time, but funnily though, I am neither overjoyed with optimism, nor sulking in pessimism. The UNC fiasco has sobered me down so much that now, I don’t take myself too seriously, and would rather let others judge me.

Foolish Optimism has made way for a more Pragmatic self-assessment.

ISB Interview

2006-02-20T18:00:00.000+05:30

I had my R2 interview for ISB on Jan 27th, Friday at The Oberoi, Bangalore.
The 50 word essay was too short, and my topic was "LIFE". Managed to write a small satirical essay, although I didn’t bother too much about the word count.

My interview was scheduled to start at 3 PM, and I was called in on the dot. There were 4 people on the panel, a senior lady and a middle aged man, probably from Adcom, and two fairly young guys (probably alums). I wished them as I entered, but the panel didn’t seem too friendly. I never caught them smiling throughout the entire time.

The interview went on for a full 30 minutes, and they had to end it since we were running out of time. The questions were as below:
1) Tell us why you have stuck to the same company for more than 5 years?
2) What kind of complex situations have you faced at work, and how have you solved them?
3) Would your current company want to hire you after your MBA, and why?
4) A few more questions about some of the awards and achievements on my resume.
5) What is it about you that separates you from the rest of the IT applicants?
(Since I mentioned about my blog, and my creative writing habits, they asked me a few more questions about my writings etc)
6) Since I had mentioned about sports in my resume, there were a few questions on soccer.
7)I was asked some specific questions about one of the projects I had worked on, and one of them even asked me if I knew the price of a Single Instance WebSphere Application Server (since I am from IBM).
8) I was given a chance to ask any questions to them.
9) Midway during my questions, I was interrupted since they were running out of time. One of the guys started asking me about some project management situations, and how I would handle various people related situations. Actually grilled me with cross questions.
That was the last question. I wished them and left.
Thought I did pretty well, but could have done much better. A mixed bag.
Now keeping my fingers crossed.

Insecurities of a Software Professional

2006-02-20T17:53:00.000+05:30

The life of a software professional is full of insecurities.

When you start out with your career, it is all about getting into the most reputed MNC. If a college-mate with lesser academic credentials that you got into a better company, with a higher pay, you'll have sleepless nights. Insecurities.

A couple of years later, when you realize that academic credentials have very little to do with who ends up in which company and earns what salary, the angst at being underpaid subsides. The comfort of being part of "the" most famous IT company provides consolation for all the under-achievement.

The next goal is to go to the US, and live there for a few years. When you finally manage to do that, it gives you a new high in your career. You are sitting in the US, and sending mails to all your batch-mates, who had gone past you in terms of salaries and achievements.

"Sup guys, how is our India these days? I am missing it badly, although USA is a pretty neat place to live in".

And then, to your horror, within 5 minutes, you receive 10 replies.

"Hey dude, just arrived eh? Gimme ur number, and i'll call ya. Been in NJ for the past 2 years" types.

Such kill-joys these friends are.
And so your years in US are also spent sulking at how everybody else has already achieved everything that you are about to achieve. Insecurities loom large.

Finally, you decide you have had enough, and return to India.
Once back, you think of finally getting one up on all those US-based friends.

"Namaste friends, I am back in India now. All those months in Pardes taught me the importance of appreciating my own country. Now I have come back to my home, and am enjoying the warmth and joy that no amount of dollars can buy you in US. Jai Hind" You write.

Within 5 minutes, your mailbox is flooded again.

"Good you are back. Why don't we all meet up this weekend at Vidyarthi Bhavan for dosa?”

Just like that, your thunder is stolen. Yet again.
And you are back to your ways of wallowing in self-pity. And insecurities.

After a lot of pondering, you decide to completely severe your links with all your batch-mates from college, to avoid being reminded of your under-achievements. So you decide to hang around mostly with colleagues. Since these guys are in the same boat as you are, there is no fear of being upstaged. Or so you think.

Soon, however, most of the guys that you had branded as "hopeless" due to their fallibilities with the English Language, and had ridiculed as people who will remain "techies" all their lives, manage to find jobs as "Technical Architects", with salaries more than double of what you get. The rest, who you ridiculed for being total "no-brainers" when it came to technology, accept positions as Project Managers and go on to earn pay packets several times more than yours.

All of a sudden, you find yourself alone and left behind. Stuck in mediocrity, and complacency. As a jack of all, but master of none.
The only thing that stays with you loyally through all these times is your fear of under-achievement.
Insecurities.

My Hallowed Nation

2006-02-20T17:48:00.000+05:30

As a citizen of the world's largest democracy, I should be a proud man.
But alas, I am anything but that!

59 years since India became an Independent country, and there is still no sign of growth and freedom that one would expect in a democratic country. The Constitution of India proudly proclaims the country to be a "Sovereign, Socialist, Secular, Democratic republic". However, today, the country is anything but what the constitution proclaims.

With the way India has handled Kashmir, Sovereignty is a complete misnomer, especially when it comes to the Kashmir province. By conceding a part of Kashmir to Pakistan, the Government of India clearly made mockery of the sovereignty of India over the entire Kashmir. What is more appalling than this act of cowardice is the fact that even present day Governments are trying to bargain with the Line of Control as the official India-Pak border. And if that was not insulting enough, our rogue neighbor has rebuked even that offer, and is fighting for complete control of Kashmir.

The myth about Indian Socialism was busted long ago, and the concept is not even relevant in the capitalistic India of today. Distribution of wealth is equal only among corrupt politicians and rich industrialists.

Secularism is the most abused word in Indian politics. A country that boasts of its secular credentials does not even have a uniform civil code. Despite tall claims of "No discrimination based on caste, creed, religion or sex", discrimination is so rampant that it has become a law in itself. How else do you justify the law which allows Muslims to take 4 wives because their religion allows it? Because of the minority appeasement politics that has been India's bane for the past 60 years, Muslim laws have been seamlessly integrated into our social system, thereby making religious discrimination a law in itself. If that isn't enough, the country is plagued by the outrageous concept of reservations based on caste and religion.
How then, can we call ourselves secular when the law of the land itself promotes such rampant religious discrimination?
To allow people to practise their religion is one thing. But to permit the religion to dictate the law is another thing altogether. Shouldn’t a secular government always ensure that the "State" and the "Church" are completely independent of each other?
Going by the current law, tomorrow, if I float a religion which permits rape, murder and other heinous crimes, will the law of the land spare me and my followers from legal persecution, in the name of religious freedom? They should, considering that I am only following my religion, however heinous it may be.

Finally, the Indian Democracy is also a big farce considering the government is not at all for the people. When votes are manipulated through threats and booth capturing, the government may not even be by the people. And with the kind of thugs and gang-lords who run the government, I am would be surprised if these politicians are from among the people. To add further credibility to my suspicions, the fact that our ruling party is headed by a foreigner is a sure indication that the government is not from the people.

With such a farcical system of governance, it should come as no surprise that when a television channel recently conducted a sting operation to catch the corrupt politicians accepting bribes from undercover journalists, the political parties, instead of reprimanding these tainted ministers, started accusing the media of improper and irresponsible journalism. Here is a masterpiece among some of the reactions from the top politicians of this hallowed nation.
"A person who is giving bribe is a bigger criminal than a person who is accepting the bribe. So let us arrest the journalists who offered these bribes".

Hallowed, we certainly are!

My year so far - Chronicles of the Leon

2005-02-07T16:37:00.000+05:30

I have nothing to write, but since it has been such a long time since I visited my blog, I felt compelled to write a few lines to reassure myself that I havent turned illiterate. Not just yet.
Last few weeks have been very eventful in terms of the mental turmoil that I have been going through. Weekends have passed pondering over what my next career move should be, or whether I should pursue higher studies. I have spent hours reading up Servlets, EJBs, JSPs and struts. And ofcourse, someone told me that a 5 year experienced techie should be well versed in design patterns as well. So I tortured myself for a few hours learning that . And some UML too. And managed to force myself to attend a couple of interviews at some reputed places. Personally, I felt I did the interviews rather well. But my salary demands have probably not gone down too well because of which I havent really got any decent offers yet. Why would anyone pay me so much when they can get people from smaller companies to do it for much less? It's a lifestyle question, and therefore I cannot compromise on my demands. And so my quest continues.
And then there was wifey's illness that kept me occupied for a week. I think after seeing the kind of service I am capable of, my wife decided to prolong her bed rest by a few more days just to enjoy the privilege of my 5 star service. Anyways, now that she's up (touch wood), I can go back to leading my life.
On the friendship scene, this month has been rather cold. My best buddy has been hopelessly busy even for his own fiancee to get any time from him. So even on those rare weekends when I actually had time to go out for a drink, I couldnt because of lack of company. Last weekend was better though. Managed to guzzle a little with an old friend.
Work wise this new year has been hectic. A new release followed by production support activities is hectic by itself. Add to that some more development tasks for the next release. And since there are separate managers for the two activities, I have easily added a few more inches to my height due to being pulled between the two managers.
On the homefront, bro came back to Bangalore, and stayed with us for 3 weeks. Now that SIL has also moved back to Bangalore, and they have found an apartment, they have shifted out of 1256 . Bro seems to have gotten a really big break this time around. Not that he hadnt already. But this one's even better. Good for him. Looking at his career, it makes me want to pursue higher studies even more. If only I can take a month off work to prepare for my GMAT. And the only way I can get a month off is if i switch jobs, so that I can join the new job a month after i quit this one. But to get a new job, I have to sit and work on my technical funda for about a month. So it all comes back where it started. How do I get that one elusive month of my own life to myself?
Perplexed. Unsure. Confused. But focussed. Yeah. That's me.

Tsunami

2004-12-30T16:00:00.000+05:30

The Sun was bright, and the sands were warm,
The beach was just as resplendent, in its beauty and charm,
People on morning walks were in their lazy gaiety,
Admiring the vast ocean, majestic and mighty,
Fishermen were on their daily chores,
Rowing their boats far away from the shores,
An unusual calm in the morning sea, what a quiet day it seemed,
Couldnt be any closer, to the perfect day that they had dreamed.

Until the sea took offence, and banded an army of evil tides,
Set them on human trails, to push them on their final rides,
In a secret vendetta against the human race,
The ocean showed its ugly face,
Washing away thousands of innocent lives, causing incurable pain,
And yet be unapologetic in its splendour, threatening to revolt again,
The evil collusion of the monsters inside the earth and sea,
Spewing venom at life, through a huge ravaging tsunami.

A lesson for the humankind, through bodies that were never found,
When nature takes an ugly turn, civilizations have been razed to the ground,
In a war between man and nature, the loser will always be left to rue,
It is the law of nature to "Do unto man what man does to you".

A Cupboard full of Skeletons

2004-12-30T14:51:00.000+05:30

In periods of peace, when everything seems mundane,
My trepidations loom large, thoughts I cannot contain;
These that disturb my calm, have long been my friends,
Burdening my mind with guilt, but never giving me a chance to make amends;
Breathing life into an uncomfortable past,
One that cannot coexist with a beautiful present,
Like creatures with ugly heads, that threaten to enter my heaven,
Those that should not be fought, but should only be buried,
Thoughts that never leave me, fears that keep me worried.

Life gives a second chance, but past does not;
New memories will never condemn the old ghosts to rot;
Those skeletons in the cupboard cannot be put away,
For they will certainly return to haunt another day,
Robs every chance of a guiltless future,
Kills with insufferable torment,
Dashing every small joy, those ugly creatures that never relent;
Till the day when there is no beautiful present, consumed by an everlasting past,
The day when life gives way, and deliverance comes atlast.

* Another Personal Expression. Not a personal experience.

The Tsunami disaster: A prayer for the deceased

2004-12-28T16:05:00.000+05:30

It really must be the beginning of the end!
When nature turns against humanity in a way as cruel as this, humankind are left to wonder, and even more so, to mourn. The magnitude of this tragedy, for us outsiders, is measured only in the number of deaths reported. But to those who have lost their families and homes, the tsunami has left them with an abysmal pit of irreplaceable loss. Unsuspecting people have been washed away to watery graves in a matter of minutes. Thousands of fishermen have lost their lives, and their livelihood. Homes have been destroyed. Villages have been razed. Survivors face the risk of epidemics due to water contamination caused by the dead bodies. Panic has given way to anarchy.
Nothing has remained the way it was. The way it should have been.
In this hour of grief, us lucky ones can only pray for the souls of the departed, and do our best to help save the survivors. By donating clothes, medicines, food, utensils, money. And by spreading the message of compassion. To let them know that "we care".
And pray that it never happens again.

promotions and pitfalls

2004-12-23T14:10:00.000+05:30

In times of disgust came a shimmer of light. And washed away all the discontentment, only to leave me with a new confussion as to which path I should tread on now. Till this good news came along, I had come to terms with the fact that my career had reached a standstill, and therefore, I had to innovate to set it back on track again. On a new ground. But now, after this huge leap, I am not sure if I have the will to tread new grounds. When the current one seems to be getting good, why expend energy looking for new ones. But again, If I dont explore outside, I may be missing out on things much bigger than what I have received now. But after such a long period of discontentment, even a small ray of light can light up one's eyes like a million bulbs. For now, I am contented. And confused.
Is this really a promotion? Or just another pitfall? Am i being made to bite some cheap bait? Should I sing my urge to explore to sleep ? Should I celebrate and succumb ? Or should I explore and rediscover my career?

Blast from the past

2004-12-13T16:51:00.000+05:30

This past Sunday, as I was sulking in my boredom, I couldnt help trace back to my childhood days, when every holiday was an event. When weekends meant cricket matches, pranks, fighting with my brother, breaking things, some more fighting with my bro etc. I was this fresh faced, innocent little kid that was exceptionally good at almost everything that kids his age were expected to revel in. Like Cricket, scoring marks in tests, athletics, putting on a good behaviour in front of guests, and always being truthful. This last quality that i mentioned didnt augur quite that well with my bullying brother. Everytime he broke a vase, or everytime he helped himself to some cashews stolen from my Mom's treasured collection, my innate need to be truthful would always put him in trouble. And in most cases, pain. Here are some of my treasured memories from my younger years:

1)I was about 7 years old when my brother invented a new game. He was a maverick who always wanted to come out with something novel. And in this case, it was a new game. And the game went something like this. I would be the thief and he would be the cop. However, this was a cop-thief game with a twist. The cop would be armed with a huge brick that he could feel free to hurl at the thief. And ofcourse, my brother was bored of being the thief in all those "mystery of the missing cashews" stories. So he always chose to be the cop in this game. And since I was such a nice kid, I didnt mind being a thief if it meant my brother would get to be a cop. Atleast for once, he would get to be on the right side of the law. And so this game would begin. And sooner than I would realise, my cop-bro would get completely immersed in his role, and naturally, that would mean bricks flying at me. Although I was kinda tiny, I was not tom thumb. And therefore, I wasnt completely immune to the brick attacks. And at the end of the game, I always had a big bump on my head, or a huge wound on my leg etc. And yeah, for all my valour, I would still be in tears at the end of the game. And my brother would be all pompous of how no thief could get past his honest cop avatar. I am so glad that he chose to be a marketing professional. If he had become a cop, I would pity the thieves that came his way. And if you find that hard to believe, I have so many scars on my legs to prove it.

2)This was about a few months after I figured out his brick trick, and started refusing to play the thief anymore. So we, that's bro and me, started playing cricket. It wasnt as wild as the brick-trick. But my bro had to compromise. And so began our tryst with the gentlmen's game. Very soon, bro and me were winning accolades for being the young turks. We were rather good at the game, and it wasnt too hard to notice that. My bro was really good at those nasty bouncers. And if there was anyone who could face up to his wild pace, it was me. And not just face it, but even smash it all over the park. This didnt really go well with my bro. And one fine day, after plotting for months, my bro finally got his chance to get back. We were playing a game of cricket in the ground in front of our house. And I happened to take a wicket off my bowling. And ofcourse, it called for celebrations. So i went about hi-fi'ing all the homies. And when I went to hi-fi my bro, he turned me around, and pulled my shorts down for everyone to have a full view of my naked rear. I was a rather sensitive kid. Especially when it came to nudity. And I ran away from the place, with tears rolling down my cheeks. The ones on my face, you perverts.

3)This was when I was in 3rd std. About 9 years old. My bro was the cricket captain in his class. And they had this prestigious final to play for the school shield. And they had one player less on the D-day. So my bro and his friends decided to play me. And since I was such a puny little kid, the opponents couldnt care less. As the match progressed, we had a handsome total to chase. My brother, the captain, perished rather early leaving the team reeling at a paltry total. When everything had seemed lost, I went in to bat. And I batted and batted. Till the target was just 6 runs away. There was just one wicket left. And my brother was doing the umpiring bit. The final over, and I hit the first ball straight over the bowler's head towards the boundary. Now, the boundary was a wall, that had gaps at several places, and my shot took the ball into once such gap in the wall. Although it crossed the imaginary boundary line, it rebounded against a huge rock and came back into the field. Now, in every other case, it would be declared a four. But not when my brother was umpiring and me batting. I had stopped in my stride seeing the ball cross the boundary. To my utter disgust, the fielder who retrieved the ball threw it back to the bowler who promptly clipped the bails since my brother had already announced "Not a four". And there i was stranded in the middle of the pitch, and cheated out of a victory by a jealous brother.It was sweet revenge that even the opponent team unanimously decided that I should be the Man of the Match. The prize, I still remember, was a notebook and a pen.

Too many memories, but too little time to pen them. More later.

My best friend's wedding-part 2

2004-12-09T19:13:00.000+05:30

A few months ago, I had blogged about the seemingly impossible task of finding a suitable bride for my super-eligible bum-chum Shankar. Seemingly impossible because Shankar had to find a girl who would meet the high expectations of all his well-wishers. And knowing Shankar to be the noble samaritan that he is, he certainly has a lot of well-wishers. And therefore, finding a girl who would be physically attractive yet demure, intellectually stimulating yet naive, academically brilliant yet not headstrong, professionally settled yet willing to give it all up if asked to, was a tall order. Add to this, the sense of urgency that he was forced to conduct his search under. And ofcourse, unrelenting work pressure which Shankar is innately incapable of rejecting. In such a boiler room situation, even the toughest nut would crack.
But not our man. Or did he?
Well, Shankar, after the minutest of deliberations, was almost impatient to say yes to the girl that we now know to be his fiancee. The impatience , I am guessing, was part due to the fear of professional vilification from a smitten female colleague, and part due to the irresistable charms of Miss Rashmi.
Sometimes, when the heart does the mind's job, impatience is the end result. And in decisions such as this, the heart certainly rules over the mind.
But one thing's for sure, Shankar certainly is on Cloud nine, and his feet barely reach terra firma these days. And why not! Rashmi is every bit the dream woman that Shankar wanted. Pretty, shy, culturally rooted, professionally on the rise, mature, understanding, and simple.
Now, if he had shown the same impatience in getting married to her, I wouldnt have had to wait another six months for an excuse to celebrate. At my best friend's wedding. Finally!

Of Rebels and their shallow beliefs

2004-12-08T18:05:00.000+05:30

In a world ruled by conventions, being a rebel is a true fashion statement. More for the fact that you are not one among the crowd than for the belief that you are cleansing the society of its ills.
That being my basic definition of a rebel, as one who aims to stand out rather than stand up for any cause, I got my golden opportunity to prove to the world how right I was. About rebels and their lost cause.
This man that I have grown up being in awe of, due to the tall tales of extraordinary will power and unwaivering determination in the face of all adversities that convention threw at him, was the one rebel that I knew would conclusively prove or disprove my thoughts about the narcissistic indulgences of these "rebels". And for his own sake, and for the sake of not wanting to have to put him down from the pedestal that I had elevated him to right from when I was a kid, I hoped I would be proven wrong. I hoped he would come out unscathed when I was done throwing my skewed arguments at him.
Alas! The mighty did fall, and HOW!
When all your arguments to counter his baseless accusations against society are conveniently sidestepped due to a want of a counter-argument,
When every fact that you produced to prove your point is countered with a stinging account of the number of books that he has read that you have'nt,
When this "rebel" takes refuge in his indulgence in redundant tomes to elevate himself from the position of defeat that he invariably finds himself countless number of times due to you being at your effervescent best,
When you discover that this "rebel" who hates the society for the ill-harboured conventions that it adheres to, is in reality, just a two-face who nurtures all those ills that he hates the society so much for harbouring (and which the society has long given up in the name of modernization),
You brand him a "FAKE", and hate yourself for having to do that.
Afterall, heroes are hard to come by, and when you add to the diminishing count by killing one, you cant help but hate yourself.
As a parting shot, I couldnt resist taking a dig at his being confined to the marxist literature that adorns his library rather than go out and see life the way it is. At his misconceptions about urban middle class conventions without ever making an attempt to mingle with it himself. At his allegations of the prevailing social injustice without ever being a part of the society. Couldnt stop myself from blabbering the obvious sobriquet-"FROG IN THE WELL". Yes. That's so true. It takes some courage to say that. And i pride myself for having that. It takes some courage to accept that. He turned out to be a coward on this count too.
And the stone I threw at the frog in the well managed to splash a lot of water. Its raining in Bangalore too. Everytime he calls home, it does. I am not surprised. It's so much like a "rebel without a cause". It's so much like him.

Wedding Blues

2004-11-09T13:41:00.000+05:30

Tuesday, Nov 9th 2004: It is just 5 days to the Wedding. My wedding.

And yesterday I was a kid. I still have those bermudas that i adored in school. My Hero Ranger is still lying in Sid's place cos he wanted to shed some kilos by cycling. And ofcourse, my marble collection from 5th std was all intact and sparkling when I gave it away to the maid's kids last month.Sid still calls me CK, just like he used to in high school. Alright, so he doesnt sound like Donald Duck anymore. My mom still mixes my rice for me , just like when I was a kid. And yes, I am getting married this weekend. No, it is not illegal for a 27 year old to marry. Certainly Not in India. But I was a kid just yesterday.

But today I am an adult. So is Sid. Likewise with Shankar. And that's why Sid doesnt come to me with stories about his walk-up-the-hill-holding-hands-with-Chithra. That's why Shankar doesnt show me around Reshu's house when we cycle upto Gandhi bazaar. And that's why CP doesnt show me his new costume on his birthday. But I was a kid just yesterday.
Now, I am on the threshold of marriage. Forget being a kid, I wont even remain a bachelor. I will come home everyday to a wife, who I do not know well enough to be myself with, just yet. So i put on my best behaviour, day in and day out. Because I am not a kid anymore. I am a man. A soon-to-be-married man. Am i scared even a wee bit? Not a chance.

I am just plain paranoid.

Final Deliverance

2004-11-08T19:08:00.000+05:30

Recounting incidents of the past few days, i sit down to ponder,
I try real hard, but i cant think of anything that i did to get you sombre,
Where is the whiff of fresh air, has the ray of bright sunshine diffused?
Where are those peals of laughter, replaced by the silence of the confused.

Recounting incidents of the past few days, the sudden chill in the summer air,
What did it take to break apart, the fortitude of the perfect pair?
Without a word, without a sigh, you walked away, please tell me why,
Broke my heart, left to cry, was this all just a lie?

Recounting incidents of the last few days, i shudder at the thought,
The day you walk out of my life, leaving me in despair and distraught,
Forever holding hard on to every single magical moment spent with you,
Till my final deliverance from the depths of agony, onto a life anew.

*This is not a personal experience. Just a personal expression.

Living a dream: My friend Aj

2004-11-02T14:29:00.000+05:30

Last Friday, I woke up not-so-early to a ringing cellphone. To my pleasant surprise, it was my good friend Aj from the US. Speaking to him after a rather long time felt good. It also rubbed in the realisation that one of my best buddies was not going to be around for the biggest moment of my life. But I guess things are the way they are meant to be. I was very happy to hear from Aj about his professional growth. He termed it as a "dream come true". That must really be something then, because Aj is rather tough to please, and I can vouch for it from our 11 years of friendship.
Anyways, it always feels great to begin your day talking to a friend. Especially if he's one of your best buds. And he seems to have taken a massive liking to the US and its people. And he certainly knows a thing or two about the Presidential elections in US. And he expressed his regret at not being able to cast his vote for Kerry. Not sure if his regret was for Kerry missing out on a vote, or his not being eligible to vote. To quote Aj, when he met Kerry's supporters :" I am afraid I cant vote for Kerry because I am not YET a citizen of USA".
No prizes for guessing the reason for his regret after this dead giveaway.

So much for too much...

2004-11-02T14:27:00.000+05:30

At a round table meeting with one of our senior account managers, I asked "Is there any incentive for employees who have put in long years for the company? I ask this because there is a general belief that such people are taken for granted since they will anyway continue to stay on". My question served to humor all the people around for the sheer bluntness with which I put it. However, it didnt serve to exact an answer from the manager.Now, I ask the same question again. However, this time it concerns my personal life.Why is it that the people you love the most, the people you want to be with whenever you can, take you for granted? Why is it that when they know you would go out of your way to meet their demands, they make sure you go out of your way? If it is just to test whether you really love them as much as you should, then it is probably acceptable a couple of times to go through their unreasonable demands. But if you are being tested every day , and you are expected to go out of your way everytime, you start thinking if this is really a test worth passing. And the very fact that you have to prove your undying love so many times can be very insulting.Every relationship, be it professional or personal, reaches a stage where one is taken for granted. Excessive loyalty, or excessive love. They all merit the same treatment. Disdain.

Mock-Tale Cocktail

2004-10-29T11:19:00.000+05:30

Do those cocktail designers really intend to mean anything when they christen their concotions with extremely fanciful and imaginative names? Or do they just borrow these visually and aurally appealing names from some tourist magazine and then randomly distribute them across their collection of mixed drinks that they believe taste differently from one another?I am inclined towards supporting the latter.

This past weekend, there was a "Caribbean" (visual imagery again) cocktail festival at Zero-G, and R and I were curious to see what this was all about. Add to that R's curiosity about cocktails.

We walked straight into a super-suave waiter at Zero-G who even allowed us to choose the corner we wanted to place ourselves at. Call it great customer care, or simply, empty seats in every corner. We decided to give the benefit of doubt to the waiter, and decided to tip him generously for his politeness. Till this point, everything was fine.

After we placed ourselves at seats of our choice, the same suave waiter decided to pay us a visit to help us decide on the cocktails that he found suited us best. Am not sure if it was a mix of Italian-Tamilian accent, or Spanish-Bihari, but listening to him speak English made me prepare myself for a not-so-perfect evening. And he gave us so many options that HE found it very difficult to choose what drinks we would be ordering. After lot of pondering, HE decided that Caribbean Delight was the best drink for a man, and Arabian Fantasy was the light mix best suited for a non-drinker like R.

Since we are used to the psuedo-democracy having stayed in India all our lives, we decided to agree to whatever he decided. And soon enough we had our drinks placed on our tables. Colorful and photogenic. I started sipping away at my Macho drink, fully expecting a strong "kick" at the end of it. And R, after deliberating whether she should even taste her drink, finaly succumbed to my persuasion.

Our first sips of our respective drinks took us by surprise. I was sipping on a mocktail, or almost. And she was feeling dizzy already. We decided to exchange sips from each other's drinks to make sure our complaints were genuine. And sure enough they were. As common sense would indicate, our drinks must have been exchanged. And so we swapped our drinks and continued till we emptied them.

Now for the finale. Our suave waiter, putting on his charmer avatar, came to our table for the check, and he couldnt resist asking us the obvious question.

" Did you enjoy your drinks sir? Madam?".

R politely suggested that he must have gotten our drinks exchanged, and that she almost fainted sipping the strong drink that he served her . I was also going to add my own piece after she finished. But Mr.Waiter suddenly stopped me, and with an annoyed expression, and a frightening frown on his face, he said

"Are you crazy? Those WERE your drinks that I served. And make no mistake about it".

Whoa! So much for being polite. We just nodded apologetically, and tipped him generously for enlightening us with his mixological knowledge. And silently decided never to vist the place again.

That night R made a vow never to touch alcohol again.
Some wounds cut deep. Real deep!

The battle of Old Trafford

2004-10-28T21:30:00.000+05:30

The invincible Gunners finally came undone at the hands (legs, shoulders etc) of Man U's physical style. How much of the defeat can be attributed to the football, and how much to the referee's decisions, is debatable, depending on which side you support.

Van Nistelrooy's horror tackle makes the verdict even more controversial considering he should not even have been on the pitch to take that spot kick. And Rooney showed one more skill in his already flattering repertoire with that "Oscar" winning dive.

Wenger's boys were surely done in, and football was not one of the reasons for that. Arsenal played the better football, but Man U played the tougher football.

Maybe its a lesson for Wenger that Arsenal should toughen up. Their inability to conquer lesser teams in Europe has also been because of their weakness against tough tackles. Panathanaikos softened the Gunners for their equaliser twice last week.

Manchester United added "injury to insult" over the weekend. Wenger may accuse the opposition for not having played the game in the right spirit, but at the end of the day, nothing succeeds like success.

Traffic!

2004-10-19T20:43:00.000+05:30

Ever wondered about the state of traffic in Bangalore? I did, and it didnt look good at all. And here's why.

While driving to office this morning, through the numerous traffic congestions , I ended up stopping at most signals, like always. Blame it on my habit of seeing red at everyone and everything. Gimme red anyday! Anyways, at one of these many signals, I had, like a law abiding citizen, stopped due to the signal being red.

As soon as the traffic on the perpendicular direction subsided a bit, the man on the scooter right next to me with a 10 year old son riding pillion, vroomed out of the blocks, through the red signal, and sped away, safely from the traffic and the lazy traffic constable monitoring the signal. The sight of his son, triumphantly waving at us foolish people who were still waiting for the signal to turn green while his dad had so easily sped out of it was a revelation. His joy knew no bounds!

With fathers like that setting such wrong examples to their impressionable kids about the futility of adhering to traffic rules, no wonder the kids these days dont really care much about jumping a signal.
Wanna be cool? Break a traffic rule!

What is the use improving roads, if people just dont want to follow rules? The traffic conditions in our city is only going to get worse when these inspired kids follow in their illustrous parents' footsteps. I shudder to think of even venturing onto these roads.
Anyone knows how much a helicopter's gonna cost?

Nostalgic musings

2004-10-11T18:41:00.000+05:30

Been a while since I penned any thoughts in here. Haven't been able to squeeze in any time for blogging of late. And today, I stumbled across a few rediff blogs and got "inspired" by some of them for their sheer nostalgic content. As for me, nostalgia has always been a favorite activity whenever I stumble across any artefact from my past.
Just a couple of weeks ago, I was clearing my attic, and had to throw away my text books from high school. And that triggered off a huge wave of nostalgia, thinking about those great times that I had in St.Paul's. Those friends, the crushes, the intense rivalry with Deepak to secure the 3rd rank (the first 2 were never up for grabs, thanks to Rohini and Janhavi), and the thrill of never having lost out in that rivalry ever, etc. Kids these days are missing out on the kind of innocent fun that our generation was lucky to have had. The time when a monthly allowance of Rs.50 was a princely amount, and was enough to actually add to my already bulging savings. That despite the almost daily indulgence in "Dil Kush" at Krishna Bakery. Today's kids would probably look at Rs.50 as "one day at coffee day" money.
Some of the best memories from my high school:
1."Dil Kush" at Krishna Bakery
2. Riding doubles with Siddha on my Ranger
3. Playing leather ball cricket every evening on matted wickets, and captaining the school team.
4. Playing football against the next section, and always squandering the four goal first half lead due to a 7 goal second half onslaught due to our defenders insisting that they want to come forward and score a few goals too, and consequentially, leave the goal unguarded.
5.Siddha's feminine voice
6. Deepak's intense jealousy towards me for outscoring him in every test.
7. The school excursions, and the crushes that we would inevitably pick up on those excursions due to the extended hours of drooling at them.
8. The eventful squabbles and controversies that would surface after every excursion, and my peace-maker role.
9. Crushed crushes (sigh!)
10. Results from the 10th ICSE exams, and the euphoria that came along with it. And yes, managing to come on top again in the rivalry with Deep.
I better stop before I get misty eyed , overcome by nostalgia. School days are the best days. Period.

Champions' League round-up

2004-09-30T16:42:00.001+05:30

It's a sleepy Thursday here at work. Had very little sleep last night watching the UEFA Champions' League matches. Arsenal and Barcelona, my two favorite clubs (not necessarily in that order always) were both in action. Although neither of the matches were prestigious in terms of the quality of the opposition or what lie at stake, the very fact that the Gunners and the Catalunyans were in live action was reason enough for me to brave the sleep, and risk falling asleep at work .

Barca, as they have been this season, were a well-oiled unit and went about their job of decimating the Ukrainian outfit Shaktar Donetsk without much fuss. Three goals, one each from Deco, Ronaldinho and Eto'o was enough to guarantee the 3 points that they were never in doubt of coming away with. Considering the fact that the last Ukrainian team that visited the Nou Camp had caused a major upset humbling the mighty Barca 0-3 in 1997, this match had a good build-up for the Trivia hunters. And incidentally, Barca triumphed with an identical scoreline.
Perfect Revenge, as the Spanish tabloids were screaming.
King Henrik was a second half substitute, and had a huge reception upon his arrival. He missed a couple of chances, but nevertheless had a good 15 minutes on the pitch. Barca, if they continue their early season performance, look like major contenders for the La Liga and the Champions League. Frank Rijkaard may afterall end the Silverware drought at Barca. The headhunters at the Bernabeue will certainly not like the prospect of a Catalan victory.

The Galacticos at Real are not really helping their cause in any way by their dismal showing. Camacho's resignation could be just the first of several heads that will roll if Madrid falter again. Especially if it coincides with the Catalan revival at the Nou Camp. Raul's brace against Roma is a step in the right direction. But it could be dismissed as a flash in the pan if they continue losing in the Liga to relegation contenders. One gentleman from Liverpool may not be too averse to that idea if it helps him get a few more games on the pitch. Michael Owen's dismal form for Liverpool last season should have been ample indication for Real to spend their millions elsewhere. But the Galactico policy of Perez, plus the cut price deal that they were getting Owen for, has ensured that David Beckham will not go down as the worst English signing for Real. Did I hear someone bet on England for WC 2006? With Becks as skipper and Owen as his deputy? This is one bet that you are sure to "Loos". Did I hear Becks wince?

Speaking of David Beckham, back home at Old Trafford, Wayne Rooney's amazing hatrick on debut has made him the most talked about English player, ending Beckham's decade of dominance. The coup de grace was a Beckhamesque freekick that curled teasingly past Rustu Recber in the Fenerbahce goal to complete the Rooney trick. Bye bye Beckham.

Meanwhile, in Norway, the mighty Gunners were pegged back by a spirited Rosenborg. Arsenal, for all their domestic brilliance, have yet to find form in Europe this season. Rosenborg, on the other hand, continued their brilliant form from the Tippeligaen into the Champions' league, frustrating the Gunners with their very direct style of attacking football. Arsene Wenger must be a worried man with Arsenal still looking suspect in their away games. The Non-Flying Dutchman's absence was telling by an obvious lack of vision in the Arsenal attack. Considering this is Dennis Bergkamp's last season in top flight football, Wenger must be hoping that the likes of Reyes and Van Persie blossom really fast. Else the flair and finesse that has become the trademark of Arsenal may soon fade away. However, these are still early days, and Arsenal have a very astute manager in Wenger, and the Gunners can be excused for their last night's performance since it is only their second match in Europe this season, and they are still at the top of their group. Considering they had just one point after their first 3 games last season, this one's already better .

Roman's Chelsea have had no such starting troubles though. Mourinho's dour superstars have consistently managed to grind out results, despite not always looking like the 200 million that were spent on assembling them. Their demolition of the reigning European Champs Porto was very workmanlike. With 6 points from 2 games, who can find fault with Mourinho's style of "grinding out results" soccer! Porto without Mourinho, however, don't look like the team that they were last season, and are back to being the fringe team like most teams from the non-elite leagues in Europe. Martin O' Neil's arguments about Celtic's potential notwithstanding, considering they lost both their games.

Bayern Munich and AC Milan have so far looked like potential contenders for the later stages of CL. But aren't they always? Juventus and Inter are top of their groups as well. After last year's surprise finalists, it's back to the continental Super Powers this season, with most teams from England, Spain, Germany and Italy topping their respective groups.The next round of matches should give a fair idea about the teams that would go through to the next stage, since there are no major upsets that one can envisage from what has been seen so far. Ofcourse, Monaco beating Deportivo is not considered an upset anymore!

God: The Sacrosanct Superhuman

2004-09-27T17:15:00.000+05:30

"In God We Trust"- Common phrase ofcourse.
But how can we trust someone we don't know?
This piece of pondering was inspired by some old memories (not that there are new memories). A maternal uncle's story as narrated by my mom, and some of her sisters. Till his late teens, my uncle was an extremely religious, highly devoted follower of the Hindu Gods. Legend has it that he spent a whole day at the local Vishnu temple attending puja during the Utsav a day before his matriculation exams. Interestingly, this same person is now a staunch disbeliever in the concept of the almighty. A rather contrasting change! From a sanctimonious devotee to a blasphemous atheist.

That brings me to the question I have been wanting to ask.
What is God?
Note that I have deliberately settled for "what" instead of "who" due to my need to accommodate a definition of God which goes beyond the deityfication of the almighty into a human-like entity which most religions, and their associated mythology, have propagated for centuries and beyond.

And the next question is:
Is there a God, the way we know "Him"?
Now, the answer could be quite simple for this one. We don't really know "Him". So the existence of God can not be validated at all.

Millions of people have, in billions of pages of religious literature, written about The Almighty, and his amazing strengths, and the miracles that only he is capable of, and how their lives have changed for the better due to their "coming together as one" with The God. I am, certainly, not in the same league to argue about what these great people have written. However, it does get me to think as to why people delve between the extremes when it comes to faith (or the lack of it). Case in point is my uncle that I mentioned about. How can a person change his religious orientation so drastically overnight? Is it an admittance of complete ignorance till the day he realized that his new faith (which is actually no faith) was the impeccable truth? Does he now believe that there is no supernatural, super human entity that was responsible for this world that we live in?

Two Answers.

One. If there was no supernatural being, then everything must be science. And since we cannot conclusively explain genesis even with our advanced knowledge of science, I'll have to live with the disheartening thought that our scientific achievements are nowhere as close to where our pragmatic thoughts would demand. Some divine intervention is definitely welcome. Ironic.

Second. There is a God. Simple. Uncomplicated. But is He a he? Or is He a she? Questions that cannot be answered. Apparently, on second thoughts, this interpretation is not as uncomplicated as I initially thought. But really, once we have accepted the existence of this supernatural entity that governs our lives and much beyond, it is really not that important what form we want this entity to be in. Being very basic, God could be just some speck in space which could be causing and controlling the world and everything that happens in it. And the deityfication of this space into human-like entities could just be a poetic interpretation of our ancestors. Over the eras, the metaphor may have been lost on the future generations, and therefore, people may have started to believe that God is, really, this human-like entity with superhuman strengths.

Interestingly, the superhuman strengths of God has helped the English Language coin the word "Juggernaut" to refer to an unstoppable force. Etymologically,the word is a distortion of the Hindu deity Jagannath. The chariot of Lord Jagannath, at Puri in Orissa is considered to have amassed such massive momentum that it crushed several people in its path due to its unstoppable force.This deityfication has surely not gone waste since there are thousands of people who earn their livings through the religious images and paintings that they have found a booming market for. A picture of a huge statue of Lord Ganesha being immersed in the ocean in yesterday's Times is my vindication.

Since the entire concept of The Almighty is , but, a speculation, each person would either invent or conform to an interpretation of the existence of God that would suit him best. Wonder what made my uncle change his interpretation of God from the Sacrosanct Superhuman to the Spatial Blackhole!