the three kinds

Having been an inhabitant of the blogosphere for over a year now, I reckon I’ve been around. The idea of maintaining a 'private' diary that the whole world had access to had me non-plussed at first. But then I realised that what I had to say about stuff, however inane, was not very different from what I didn't mind being read by the 3-4 people that would eventually visit my blog. Ramblings aside, there are some distinct types of blogs or rather bloggers you come across. My B-school education spurs me to give these categories names like "Blue-blooded Factualists", "Keyboard diarrhea verbosers" and so on but I'll show restraint.

So there are three kinds i reckon, the ones who started the whole thing called blogging by penning down their opinions and giving other information quite religiously. The information on such blogs is well-researched, more importantly, well presented and very often updated. They usually tell it like it is with scant obfuscation with personal (often vitriolic) opinions. Dependable, thats the word.

Second are those that essentially have no rhyme or reason for their existence. They often get laughably predictable in their effort to be politically incorrect. The odd post might strike a chord here and there but don't count on it. The blog is just an extension of the hare-brained thought processes of slightly twisted minds.

And finally, those that are essentially like marketing tools. Except they're selling themselves, to who?..well f*** knows! Reams and reams of print about some profound insight into humanity and relationships while all they're trying to say is how they epitomise all that's good on this planet. How they opened their hearts and emptied their bank accounts for a noble cause..sniff sniff...how quaint...jeez...talk about putting in your application for sainthood by proxy.

But then, if you've nothing better to do than try to tap into the thought processes of people you hardly know...nothing like it :)

p.s: such pseudo-intellectual gibberish can only qualify this one for that 2nd type i guess :)

hole sale

My longest break by far since making the move to the new job. Three whole days...courtesy the firm moving our customary third saturday off to this monday. I certainly am not complaining, atleast not till saturday. The weekend's been mostly relaxing with the expenditure of some quality time. S, counting the cd and the Gary Larson and C&H, I won't complain if you make it a weekly thing to give me cool stuff :)
We're in the home-stretch of my first assignment. Had what was essentially the presentation of our recommendations on friday, went well, I think. The sixty-four million dollar question I suppose will always be whether you've come up with anything that they wouldn't have thought of anyway. Don't want to overanalyze something I have scant knowledge about, so there'll be more posts once I reckon to have a surer hang of things. Will be starting on a new assignment tomorrow, will know more after the first meeting with clients.

Considering to-dos form a large part of my life these days, thought I should list some of 'em important ones...

Things I need to do in the near-ish future:

1. Figure out the business of management consulting...as in really figure it out


2. Get back to working out...regularly (this one's been part of other lists in the past...but this time I have 35 lbs of metal and two bars to vouch for me)


3. Get a half-decent car


4. Stake out agreeable residential localities in the city...no..not for potential targets to satisfy carnal desires or serial-killer tendencies but for actual places i'd like to live in


5. Read the three books I recently got (from that l'il basement store called 'The Bookworm' in a side-street in B'lore, faint mustiness and arrays of yellowed books...quite surreal)

kinky in the boardroom

Ok, so tying a thin strip of fabric (mostly silk) around my neck, with a neat knot (well, mostly and no...we're not talkin' S&M here..well not yet) with the end dangling under my chin, every day of the work week isn't exactly my idea of fun. The hour long commute each way isn't that flash either. Nor is wearing three layers with this city's humidity levels..(when one is one too many).. every once in a while because apparently, the additional layer automatically implies 'wisdom' and 'great analytical ability' and 'a huuuuuuge....ok well maybe thats tougher to imply...ford's done a better job describing the garment that endows you...Butt...and am talking one of those that make you want to reach out...and...well squeeze!...telling the top management of a company about how they should be running their organization...in their boardroom..oak-panelled walls et al...listing out a slew of things they should do/change/desist to maximize shareholder value (and believe it or not...thats not sarcasm!)...yup....thats not stuff you put on your regular weekly status report in your regular information technology services company with regular growth rates in triple figures before boarding the regular bus that takes you back to civilization. Yup...I think I could get used to that...

hurtle

First week of the month whistled by before I could even puff out my cheeks to throw a tantrum about not getting my coveted b'day gift...Ok, so maybe...just maybe, it isn't the most practical of demands to want a german-engineered high performance luxury coupe..K, S, S and V...u guys have been marked...u know why...Got back from my stint of primary research in the two southern metros...meeting umpteen organizations and some fairly senior folk in them...in some cases...THE senior person. Some insightful...some ho-hum. Got back to pressing deadlines...vada-pavs and strategy meetings...and a positively scrumptious chocolate cake delivered to office by a fittingly named "Just Temptations". Oh yeah..and also my first full-month's paycheck! after a veeery long time. Not having my bank accounts updated in the office records meant that it was a check in the literal sense and I actually had a time recalling how one goes about depositing money into an account! Halfway through the working weekend and wondering what the hell happened to the plan of scouting for a gym...getting a new phone...getting a haircut...in that order! Ok..now that the 'being a prima donna' is done with...i should get back to accomplishing things...like taking a shower for instance...A pause in the headlong rush...

what's that smell?

the fair question would be "who's that smell?!" yeah...that's what probably caused the president of the United States (Harrison Ford, yeah the real one..not Dubya) to toss the evil dude(he spoke english with a middle-eastern accent...duh!) off Airforce One after he said "Get off my plane..." So here you are, about 170 odd of you...packed like sardines in a can...the flight's delayed by the regulation 15 mins (they might as well write "departure time: 20.05 std deviation 15 mins"), been in the air for an hour during which everyone's partaken of dinner (the only reason am not making fun of the meal is the recall of the pathetic bags of peanuts/pretzels that airlines in the US hurl at you)...and then ...yup...you guessed it...someone farts. and you realize how helpless you truly are...strapped into the window seat next to a guy who really should be paying for two tickets considering the amount of space the two of them occupy...yeah..him and his protruding belly! am sure it must be the kind of thing they teach in the advanced levels of 'Torture 601' in the clandestine training rooms of the KGB or the Mossad or such arcane (but equally ruthless) organizations. your primeval survival instincts kick in and you press your face to the 'window' for some fresh air but then the plexi-glass presses back mockingly. so you do nothing but let it all dissipate into the air to be regurgitated by the air conditioning. finally you land, and you wonder how a flight thats supposed to take a l'il over an hour took almost three to get you to your destination....frikkin' air-traffic!

but its nice to be home...wouldn't even think it'd be a big deal, but then after a week and a half of incessant driving about in b'lore and chennai...it does feel nice...sigh. had read a news item a couple of years ago about how a car thief pulled a job on a swank sedan parked on a tokyo street at 7am only to be arrested 2 hours later in a traffic snarl 300 yards away...bangalore's not like that...he'd be about 100 yards away here. and chennai...barrelling down the wrong way on busy streets because the auto-driver decided to save some time, cutting in front of buses that don't look like they're used to being treated like that and millimeter precision so you're vehicle is exactly two coats of paint away from the belching exhaust of a truck...quite an art i think. serves me right for skipping the car on offer thinking it'd be quicker this way. am starting to have more and more respect for b'bay's traffic!

oh yeah...and happy b'day to me

p.s: the title is actually three doors down...cool song too...

keep your hands where i can see them

An airport lounge: You're waiting for your boarding call. In the meantime, you find a seat and read your copy of The Financial Times...ok ok...comics section HT. And you sense more than see it. They're looking over your shoulder, reading what you are. You turn the page thinking they'll get the hint. After all they are available on the rack just ten feet away...and free too. But they keep looking...keep reading...

A phone-booth: You're in it, the door doesn't close completely, but that's ok.You're not discussing state secrets, just going about your business. This other person, looks like they intend to use the next booth, having nothing to do with you. But then, they pause outside the booth, pretending to be looking intently into that shop-window across the street, while their ears strain to catch your conversation. You find that every time you step into a phone booth, they are there. The shop windows across the street can't all be that interesting.

A hotel room: No, not a porn scene. Just your temporary station in some random city. You leave every day to go about your business, thankful for the small mercies called room service. Every evening you return, and you notice that you're stuff's not quite the same way it was when you left. You check, nothing's missing. Next day, same thing, everything's been disturbed, rifled through. So, its not your pseudo-expensive gadget collection they're after. Then what is it?!

yes...some people are just that annoying...

Let it rip...Let it Thunder!

Term 3 and one of the courses was about "...the practice of starting new organizations, particularly new businesses. It is often a difficult undertaking, as a majority of new businesses fail.". While the course entailed studies on how enterprising individuals brought enterprising business ideas to fruition with a lot guts, dedication and the odd sliver of luck, was a yawn-fest for me. The amount of work that seemed to be require to setup a business, that might or might not at some distant point in the future reap you loads of moolah on which to retire on and to buy your island in the carribean seemed, well too much. But then, I find the effort required to lean over and procure the remote control to change the documentary on grass-growing in the prairies on nat geo rather too much effort. Ideas of bootstrapping and starting small, to spend the VC's money like you were drawing blood were all fine, but the concept of reducing something as abstract as entrepreneurship to a few checklists and methodologies seemed kinda ridiculous. Add to the fact that every venture seemed to be nothing more than a means to germinate an ingenious idea, nurture it through the early years and just when it promises a lot of potential, cash out to someone who actually likes to run business. Seemed too much about making that quick buck to me. Coz, lets face it, more than generating a bunch of ideas and convincing some fat cats to part with dollops of money, its the actual successful running of an organization that takes managerial brio.

Wild-eyed ravings aside, got an insight into the genesis of our firm today, about how things started up and how they graduated from one stage to the next. The discussion about what it took to start and run a professional service firm and how the decisions sometimes was choosing between whether to buy your third laptop or make that trip to Venice to pitch to a prospective client. The amount of thought that went into deciding on what was core to the firm, what kind of work wouldn't you do or how would you ensure that the fresh-faced B-school grads imbibed what the firm was about and accordingly portray it to the clients they worked with was mind-boggling. The decision to scale up from five to twenty and thence(thats a word right?) to fifty, taken after a lots of deliberation while the conglomerates of the world hire that many roughly every fifteen minutes. Its a revelation to know that there are individuals who, day-in day-out, apply their faculties these tasks. So, whats with the disconnect between the first and second paragraphs? I was paying attention this time, for one thing. And yeah...hearing the history of such a firm unfurl...makes you want to be part of the start of something...big. So...let it rip...let it thunder!

The Showdown

Most people who throw threats or insults my way find it to be a frustrating experience because they never stimulate responses. Mainly because I'm too lazy to...However, when people start questioning...nay..mocking fundamental tenets of life on this planet..then someone's gotta take a stand! So, in continuation with my previous post...and not in continuation with the rantings and ravings of the zealous fanatics (who sometimes do not stop to question what it is that they believe in so fervently)...a rather objective (mostly) comparison of certain key aspects of being a superhero.

Category	Spider-Man						Superman
Genesis	Regular bloke...irradiated spider...changes that didn't seem like powers at first...Spider-Man!						Different species...what powers?! On Krypton he'd be...just another guy!
Costume	Form-fitting...black web pattern on red and blue...masked face...covered eyes...an actual costume						Red underwear over tights...yes tights..nothing for the face...hmmm...quite a disguise
Love Interest	Mary Jane Watson-Parker: Known Peter for years...likes the super alter-ego...has always loved the man himself.						Lois Lane: Has worked with Kent for years, treats him with disdain...orgasms for him in tights...the word 'shallow' comes to mind? fooled by the different hairdo...bright too apparently
Weakness	Loses powers when self-belief wanes...depends on himself to get it back						Green rocks from home, can do jack in their presence
Bottomline	Powers don't make you super, character does Sharp objects and bullets...hurt Rural America better find another hero (tall buildings a must for web-slinging)						You're not from around here...automatically makes you special Flight, X-ray vision, Immense power...must be a stretch beating up on others Wear underwear outside to prevent accidental wedgies

For the initiated...here's a list of some actual superheroes...With Great Power

Bring it on...

Part them and feel my finger tips...

So it was Shrek 2 and Spiderman 2 on Star Movies and HBO respectively and however cute the former might've been, with me, the latter wins...hands down. Inspite of the logical argument that one might make that I have watched the second movie atleast half a dozen times and also own the dvd of the same, it still turns out that I watch it...again..commercial breaks and everything! And unless 'one' wants to get hit around some, they will not be making more logical arguments. Like I've said more than once..."Do not get logical with me....!!" It falls into that category that I don't seem to mind doing, time and again (ok, so there are certain obvious things we all like to do...over and over and over...you get the picture). The Godfather, Kane and Abel, The Fourth Protocol, Dil Chahta Hai, U2, I never seem to grow out of. Ok, so, it probably doesn't help that I don't seem to grow up, at all, but then I somehow don't seem to have the urge to line-up my matchbox cars and have a demolition derby or experiment lighting a match to the open nozzle of room freshner...

Juvenile delinquencies aside, this movie is awesome for several reasons...not least of those...Mary-Jane Watson, damn she's cute! I mean, how cool is it that there's this girl who you like...who likes you...and yes, once you've brushed the awkwardness aside, you get to say..."oh by the way...check this out" as you 'accidentally' bump into a lamp post to leave it askew. Granted that a senile scientist with an ample waistline on metallic stilts isn't exactly a sight to send shivers up your spine, but then the sequence on the train is a worthy action-scene. The piece de resistance of course is when its all done and Octavius has realized that he's just not cool enough to deserve a place in the rougues hall of fame and leaps into the river and spidey, mask off, turns around, to that look of realization on Ms Watson's face. That, and the final scene where she says "Isn't it about time someone saved your life" and they kiss for the first time (technically second), sirens go off in the background. Spidey looks toward them, hesitates, look back at her and she says with a smile "Go get'em tiger..."

And if none of that does anything for you...you can't possibly walk away from one of most amazing movie soundtracks in a long time...two of the best...

"Vindicated" - Dashboard Confessional

"Hero" - Nickelback

p.s: was subjected to 'Superman Returns' last weekend...the superhero with the baby face and the ridiculous wisp of curled locks on his forehead...seriously...Spidey would kick his butt easy...but having seen this Superman, think he'd only like that...you know what i mean...and if you're thinking the title of the post is lewd, read the lyrics above...and stop being a perv! ;)

numb nuts

Going by the theory of relativity, its like shifting from counting the ripples from a pebble chucked into a still crystal-clear pool to trying to count the number of people in that train on the adjacent track. Only, its moving in the opposite direction to yours...Yup, moved back to Bbay and started on a line of work I had absolutely no intention to get into during placement season..Remains to be seen who whups whose azz in this one..i honestly dunno yet...no soothsaying about how it'll go...only one way to find out...

By the way...heavy rains...flooded streets...partly drenched...water cold...hence the title...

So, this tag business...

I am thinking about that piece of chicken, or is it sun-dried tomato seed? stuck in my molar...darn it!

I said "Good Morning" when he said "Go ahead, make my day"...and I did!

I want to play league cricket in the land of Oz, well, i'd even settle for good ol' whatchamacallit'shire in the colonists backyard and not worry about a goddamn thing ever

I wish there was a way to hold on to those fantastic memories without ever living in the past

I miss not having the words 'hepatitis, jaundice, typhoid' cross my mind when looking at a road-side 'thela' selling kaala khatta gola. Well I also miss the bowl first thing in the morning if I'm not looking...

I hear not a whole lot else, when am actually listening...really

I wonder how many of us don't say or do what we really want, simply coz we don't want to appear cliched

I regret not having ordered the sizzling brownie last night

I am He-Man..the most powerful man in the universe! (you know y'all wanted to say that too...the masters of the universe was one cool show!)

I dance like noone's watching...oh wait..its more like everyone wishes they weren't

I sing worse than i dance

I cry when my toe meets something unexpectedly hard...and there will be this one other time when...

I am not impressed by/susceptible to emotional blackmail and all other assorted mind-games...

I write to highlight the inane consequence of freedom of speech

I confuse avalanche with alavanche...one of those is a word...i just know it...

I need a frikkin' toothpick...that bit just won't go away!

I should at some point take some things seriously...or so I've been told...

I finish every fight I don't start...not really...but I'm watching this action flick on HBO...

I tag
Dawn
way2top
ramsabode

Big boys do cry

The first game was as if a welter-weight contender had blundered into the ring against a heavy-weight. If you supported the scandinavians, it was painful to watch and you were in fact thankful when the end came. The other one though, was markedly different. Mexico and Argentina went at each other hard, for all of regulation time. Mexico scored the first goal to show why they're the #4 ranked team in the world. The day however belonged to the bigger South American name in the game as they won in extra time. As the cameras panned over the exultant Argentinian bench and they piled on each other, you saw the odd figure in green on the pitch, each spaced from the other similar figures, trudging towards their bench.

My enduring image was a closeup of one of the faces as he stood still, as though petrified, looking into the distance. Face lined with fatigue, a far-off stony expression nevertheless, the only sign that he might be made of living tissue apparent in the moist eyes. He finally blinks as an Argentinian player approaches him for the traditional exchange of jerseys. They hug, the victor and the vanquished. Wholehearted, because, the former knows that his opponent was worthy and with some quirks of luck, the roles could easily have been reversed. The latter, though his will, fragmented like eggshells that have been stepped on, aware that his opponent was just that l'il bit better on the day. He doesn't grudge him his win, but that doesn't ease the lump in his throat, or that heavy feeling in his chest. It will be a few days before he can smile, he will play other times, and win. But for now, he has to deal with that unduplicable feeling, that comes with wanting something with every fibre of your being...and being denied. Not for him, the excuses about unfair refereeing or insufficient training or incompetent teammates. He and his team will walk off the pitch with head held high, cliches about the importance of winning (those oft-quoted by 'the onlookers', those who wouldn't dare step on the playing field themselves but take viacarious pleasure in tearing down those that come off second best on it) don't apply here. Its funny that you think of them as absurd on two occasions - when you win and when you lose . It then...must really be about how you play the game...

My Game

Its fitting that I talk about one of my passions at a time when the world's living "Life in an 8" diameter", the Football World Cup. Anyone who knows me also knows that if there is one thing on this planet that I'm not lazy about, its the game of the flannelled fools.

Being exposed to the cricket marketing blitz from the very early years and starting to watch the game with interest at the same time that a certain Mr. Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar started appearing on the India Team-Sheet certainly acts as a catalyst. Watching, and listening to the game's most respected commentators also helped. The likes of Richie Benaud, Michael Holding et al gave out many lessons that I seem to remember a lot better than stuff from the classroom. I remember how I started a daily regimen of push-ups on hearing how upper body strength was a requisite to bowling quick or how I started paying minute attention to my delivery stride trying to ensure that my head stayed upright and that I followed through with force, all this while playing on concrete surfaces with rubber balls! Wasn't until college that I actually got to feel the brand new leather ball in my hands and that selection routine facing up to the college team's 'finest' is an unforgettable memory. Having never in my life faced the leather ball, the possibility of broken cheekbones flashed through my mind. But I couldn't care less, only kept repeating to myself "keep your eyes on the damn ball" can't help but laugh at the thought now. Have had the opportunity to play a fair bit of cricket since then, be it university, leagues in the US or our good ol' team at ISB. Doesn't seem to matter where it is, but the cricket field is where I experience true bliss...sigh :) yeah...its like that...

Got to reminiscing about a few of the best moments I've experienced on the field:

1. 3rd year engg. Inter-College Tourney. Finals against the defending champions, the final year Elec Class. Their lineup was pretty much that of the college team. Big partnership as they chase down our respectable score. Then, short ball, pulled hard, arching over the squareleg fence where N runs around full tilt, leaps with one arm extended to grab one of the best catches I've seen! The team finds its voice...and a collapse ensues. High-energy, charged cricket..loved it! We win!


2. Day 1 of the league season at the Whitewater ground in Univ. of Wisconsin - Madison. Our newly formed team's first game. First over, opposition captain faces. Ball 5, goes forward in defence, ball nips, takes shoulder of the bat, My hands reach in the nick of time to pick it out of the air at gully. First wicket down! The Sabers had arrived!


3. The Winter League - Milwaukee Sports Club. Defending a low score in the final. Fielding at wide long-on when the batsman smashes one straight down the ground. Spotted the ball in the air, went hard towards the ball and dived as the ball dipped. Caught it in the finger-tips of my extended right hand inches from the ground. Pumped up a flagging team. Lost when a six was hit off the last ball but what a game!


4. Regal League game; wookiees v/s jedi. Was asked to open the bowling for the first time. white ball, big swing, erratic first couple of overs. Captain calls for other bowler to warm up, cudnt blame him. I walk over to him and conversation ensues "me: One more over cap: dude, they're already upto 30/0 me: one more over cap: u know we're defending a small total me: onnne more over cap: nods...slowly..." next over, couple of decent away swingers. ball 3, reversed the ball in my hand...swings in, batsman hit in front...big appeal...gone! cap and me point at each other...thats what am talkin' abt!


5. Glendale academy, Hyd ISB v Intergraph. Chasing a big total, we needed a bright start. Quiet 1st over, 2nd over, Ball 1 - short outside off, slashed through point 4! Ball 2 - slightly fuller but width, square drive 4! I know the bowler is going to over correct and pitch it fuller and on the stumps. Sure enough, expecting it there, launched into it. Ball disappears out of the ground straight back over the bowler's head - 6! Damn, that felt good! only if we'd won that game...

Indiana Jones and the Island of Intellectual Asphyxiation

So here's the deal. You're on this strange island (you probably got there thinking there'd be island booty and lots of it) and have been informed that you're to be inducted into the slave-labor force. Now you're thinking, thats not necessarily a bad thing because there are different slave-duties, ranging from cleaning the green stuff that grows under the fridge to being used to propogate the species. so, here you are, having resigned yourself to being a slave, and looking forward to being assigned that task of entertaining the nubile young things on the island who need help with getting suntan lotion applied and other initiations into womanhood. sure, like that happens...and you're unceremoniously told that you'll be providing the use of your family jewels for the purpose of generating electricity while helping overweight middle-aged men put their jockstraps on. So, you do the only sane thing, you run! But then careful analysis tells you that you can't go too many places on an island. (hey! dont blame my genes for the sub-100 IQ). Tearing down dark alleys, dodging poison-tipped arrows, vaulting over electrified fences (ok, sue me for the anachronism), all in the hope of finding that secret passageway that leads back to civilzation. But as blood-sugar levels reach new lows, the shadows of the slave-drivers falling on your ankles...its geting desperate, just as you're steeling yourself to the feel naked copper wires coming in contact with parts which were meant to be treated with much more affection, your hands find a lever, and pull. A whirl of revolving stone slabs and yes! you're out of reach of those maniacal slave-drivers...you're free!

But wait, now all you see is dense foliage and a cacophony of sounds...you now don't know what's out there...and whats more...you're alone.You grin...

road rage

Its like being stuck behind a semi-trailer thats moving at 45mph on a one-lane highway. The speed-limit says 60 but the trucker apparently charges by the hour and not by distance. You crane your neck to see around the roadhog to see whats ahead so you have an idea of whats coming but no dice. frustrating...very bloody frustrating...not long before i go off-road to get around the SOB!

Perfumed Groins

The most popular sport in the world..not doubt about it...and why wouldn't it be...eleven members on each team, a pressurized sphere with the rather uncomplicated objective of putting it in the net at the other end of the field. Football fever makes our country's obsession with cricket look like trying to piss upwind. Its interesting that we suck at a sport that countries the size of the suburbs of Bbay seem to've mastered. Where else would you hear names like 'Cote d'Ivoire' - translated suitably from french to 'Ivory Coast'.

While one can't but help getting caught up in the excitement and of course the high quality of football being played, there is another aspect that many might've noticed. The perfumed groin syndrome. Its what seems to affect most strikers when an opposition defender passes within a tripping distance of them. Contact or no-contact, these talented players then take the most spectacular dives, spinning around in the air and writhing on the ground with their heads ucked into their nether regions, while clutching their ankle/calf/foot while their faces contort in agony. Referees seeing the atrocity committed on the fearless attacker award a free-kick and sometimes also a yellow card to the defender. The noble warrior at this point seems to miraculously recover and gets back on his feet and goes tearing off to receive a pass.

The physical safety of the games most prolific strikers used to be a concern in the early 80s when coaches used to assign their defenders the rather uncomplicated task of felling the opposition's finest if they got possession so as to discourage them and if possible even remove them from the field of play. FIFA then gave referees instructions to protect these chosen few and to stamp out all malevolent tackles. However, that then made defences the hapless target as striker after striker tore into the penalty area and crashed to the ground when faced with an impossible situation to earn his team a penalty. The Argentinian striker Ariel Ortega took this act to new heights in the 2002 cup. While you still see the odd dive, it was refreshing to see the referee book the Dutch striker for diving in the penalty box. What's more, such cards also attract a 5000DM fine! Now, there's a game where all involved seem to want to improve and not just shamelessly milk for advertising revenues...wonder what game i'm referring to....

Of arrogance...

"You guys are arrogant"; words from one of the Delivery Managers who was giving us this presentation on a certain business unit at my new job. The ten-strong batch of inductees (6 ISB, 3 IIMC, 1 IIML) into the Business Analyst track looked at each other, with some incredulity. He went on to add how management grads from the premier institutes tend to have little patience when working with people of 'conventional' and 'ordinary' caliber (both his words not mine!) The problem he said wasn't limited to management grads and was present in engineering graduates from the illustrious IITs. Quoting himself as an example of the latter, he explained how 'we' (apparently we were the latest additions to the fraternity), join any organization with expectations of revolutionizing the way it conducts its business, making sweeping changes to its strategy working in teams with other like-minded individuals. The reality, however, hits when your job description is anything like the expectation and your responsibilities are almost identical to those being handled by that deadbeat who graduated from <gasp> a tier-II college! Indignation turns to disillusionment as your performance on the job seems to be no better than his and you reason that the mechanical nature of the job shackles you from unleashing your true potential (" even a monkey could do this job!"). The true challenge, he said, was to work with people, and get work done, not judging them by the names on their degree certificates (in our case diplomas).

Well-intentioned advice all of it, in fact would serve us well to keep in mind some of that. A year and a half ago, when my peer group was mainly engineering graduates from various colleges affiliated to Mumbai University (not too favorably compared to the Carnegie Mellons of the world), I would've been inclined to agree. Just look at those schmucks in suits with fancy titles who seem to do little else but attend meetings all day! The proverbial shoe's on the other foot and I find myself protesting that very idea, so energetically propounded by the DM. I only speak for those of us who, after not insubstantial experience in various lines of work, set out to obtain that management degree. By no means is it a slur on fresh graduates, but I think as individuals, the former group puts more on the line. Putting careers on hold, be it to attain incremental growth or to switch tracks altogether, is dicey business. Its only during the course that does one realize that its much more than an additional qualification to add to your CV, its a completely different way of looking at the business of running a business. So, I think its completely fair that we then come out of B-school demanding more from our jobs, in some part in how big the figure on our paycheck is, but more importantly in the exact nature of work. Exposure to the different facets that go into running a successful business means that you have a much better idea of what you'd be good at doing and anything different is just a waste of everyone's time. I think its this finickiness(sometimes confusion?) about what you want to do that comes off as arrogance.

So, no, we're not arrogant, but we sure are proud of our alma mater and there's nothing wrong with that...

One Bye One

The fact that my current employers believe in blocking every productive website that there is, accounts for the delay in writing the post and actually posting it...

Pune...Week 1...
Chill in the air, more than a slight breeze and random specks of a light drizzle hitting my face as I turned in towards the hotel entrance after a longish walk. Its 10.34pm and the end of week one in my new job location; Hinjewadi Pune. My first day off in Pune, even though only had half the day after the morning and afternoon were spent hunting for what seems to be an endangered species in this city, the 'To Let' apartment.

The Rajiv Gandhi IT Park is a distance from the city with sprawling campuses with every Indian IT major and not-so-majors. The Infy campus is easily the biggest (surprise surprise!) and while Phase I of their campus has a respectable capacity of 4000, Phase II is a gargantuan 15000. The arhitecture is something to behold, with the latest building under construction resembling a crash-landed UFO. The CTS campus, while not as dispersed, has a couple of large 'high-tech-looking' structures.

The week has been demanding and the opposite in different ways. Days filled with presentations from different departments, most of them, vertical, some horizontal. The organization, as has been pointed out to us, is very distinctly partitioned into discrete components that function with almost complete autonomy. After a Delivery Manager in the Manufacturing and Logistics vertical expressed surprise that I would be working for the Insurance vertical and how he wasnt aware if that vertical existed in Pune, I decided to form a new entity, the Diagonal! Our batch of 10 inductees promptly agreed that I should head it.The function of this diagonal is as yet undecided, but for those who specialized in geometry would have figured out that this entity would be longer than and therefore have more clout than the plethora of verticals and horizontals

Scouting around the city, looking at one apartment after another have removed all doubt in my mind that the business of brokering transactions between home-owners and hapless software professionals is far more profitable a vocation than the one I am in. Another couple of days of training and then Im guessing therell be more to my day than sitting back in dimly lit presentation rooms pretending to listen while typing out smses.

Mumbai...Week 2...
Training ended tuesday...elongated affair with 3 different hotel rooms...owing to miscommunicated reservations. Went in on wednesday, all spruced up to meet new boss. Located his cabin on the campus and went in with a resounding "Good Morning Mr....". His smile faded as I told him that I was there to join his vertical as a BDM. I didn't expect him to fall over himself wanting to hug me, but this?! Turns out he didn't seem to have appropriate work for me at this stage and therefore had informed HR that my services wouldn't be needed. So, I left wondering if my stint with this company was at an end...when I was informed by the HR contact assigned to make us feel at home that it'd be sorted out in a jiffy. Next morning, I get a phone call saying that my prospective boss was going to chennai for a meeting to decide what I could possibly contriubute to the organization...that kinda thing usually happens after I've spent a few months at a workplace...chuckle! So, am expecting a warmer welcome (and sniff...work!) come Monday morning...now for a hearty homely breakfast...bwaa haa haa....

Oh yeah...signed the lease to our apartment in Aundh...right now consists of 2 buckets, 2 mugs, a host of cabinets and little else...phase 2 of operation makaan to begin next week...

p.s: title of the post...saw it on a rickshaw this morning on my way here...for those who still look for logic on this page...

take cover!

combination of whirring engines...exploding shrapnel...screaming voices...crunching metal...my first whiff of a net cafe in this city. Just wouldn't be at my sizzling best while posting from this with the gaming going on on the neighboring machines.

house-search been on for most days of the week so far, will look to finalize one in the next coupla days. then there's the painful task of furnishing the place, think i just sank lower on the depression scale at the thought of that activity. it really should be mandated by law to have more fully furnished apartments available in any city.

am in what seems to be the popular tween hangout, called e-square...being a sunday, there are no tickets available, hence settled into some aimless surfing, didn't think i'd miss being the lifeless log i was for over a month.

will do more justice to the first week experience in the city at a later date...hopefully from the comfort of 'home'...

grabbed by the BuLLS

"Sir, you have a bad smile" Well, that's settled then, the aforementioned judgement coming down as a guillotine on any hopes I might've harbored of dazzling my way into people's hearts via Close Up commercials. The veracity of the statement really cannot be questioned considering it came from that most unquestionable of authorities, the photographer at the local studio. No, I wasn't getting my portfolio done, wouldn't want the unsuspecting readers of this post to lose their lives because of shortness of breath caused by uncontrolled laughter and injuries sustained by crashing into furniture and other more immovable objects while rolling around on the floor, all in the process of considering the prospect of me in a portfolio.

This was the a passport job, with some, hold your breath, ID and stamp-sized photos thrown in. Settling onto the rather uncomfortable wooden plank, the chap straightened my tie, made micro adjustments to the angle of my neck and head as if calibrating a laser-guided missile, stepped back, asked for that smile and about a million flashbulbs went off. He then looked into the lcd screen of his digital SLR and all his bonhomie vanished just like all his hopes of winning the IPA seemed to have. I, therefore, don't blame him for glaring at me while saying the above words. Quick reload and click so as not to prolong the farce and we were done.

In other news, made my first foray into the stock market and then watched with some incredulity as the biggest ever intra-day drop in history occurred. It doesn't take too many divination skills to figure out that wasn't a good omen :) Packing seems to be high on the agenda these days and it gets tougher to procrastinate when you're being persistently asked whether I intend to take that orange polka-dotted shirt or the sequin trousers...ok, maybe i exaggerate. Ok, granted that all the actual fetching and laundering and folding and laying in the suitcase is being taken care of by mom, but leaning back and pointing at different articles can also be rather enervating. Packing...the one time when my meager possessions seem to suddenly turn so frikkin' voluminous!

Last potential post from 'da Bomb' city for a while, have heard rumors that there are internet hubs in the nethers outside Pune, unsubstantiated albeit. Will know soon enough...

You're beautiful

My life is brilliant.
My love is pure.
I saw an angel.
Of that I'm sure.
She smiled at me on the subway.
She was with another man.
But I won't lose no sleep on that,
'Cause I've got a plan.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw you face in a crowded place,
And I don't know what to do,
'Cause I'll never be with you.

Yeah, she caught my eye,
As we walked on by.
She could see from my face that I was,
F***ing high,
And I don't think that I'll see her again,
But we shared a moment that will last till the end.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw you face in a crowded place,
And I don't know what to do,
'Cause I'll never be with you.
You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
There must be an angel with a smile on her face,
When she thought up that I should be with you.
But it's time to face the truth,
I will never be with you.

p.s: James Blunt...Back to Bedlam