Breaking News...

If you're a red-blooded inhabitant of a capitalist-with-the-odd-but-inconvenient-attempt- at-being-a-socialist state, the television or the idiot box as it is popularly mis-referred to holds pride of place in your life (i mean, a match-box is not called that because all the matches are on the outside staring at it, is it?). Whether it is an oversized cube of glass and plastic with one of those guns that fire beams of electrons at blinding speed or one of those thin slivers of liquefied gases barely thicker than a...you guessed it...matchbox, this gets your attention most of your waking hours at home.

You thrust the helpful end of the electric toothbrush and push the button to get ever closer to being classified as a vegetable, while padding over to the living room couch to reach for that the other brilliant piece of technology, the remote control to comfortingly drown out the...if you're lucky...sounds of the chirps of birds with the odd muffled airhorn of a truck...if you're not...the noises of your neighbour yelling down at the watchman asking why the water in her bathroom taps is brown while another two are engaged in a yell-athon to resolve a dispute over a contentious parking space.

Your window to the world lights up with the flashing 'LIVE' at the top left corner. The screen vertically split to show a sequence of rivetting interest on the left and a suitably sombre-faced official on the right. The bottom fourth of the screen shows two ticker tapes, the bigger, slower moving strip shows 'LIVE'..just in case you have an affliction that prevents you from looking at the top-left of your screen..the smaller, faster-moving strip shows the all the gripping happenings of the world while you were snuggled up in bed, dribbling over your pillow. Considering, the screen looked suspiciously similar when you flicked it off the night before, except with a completely different list of gripping happenings, haven't you ever wondered how do they do it?

Contrary to popular belief, the average news-channel manager (ncm) does not get by with 4 hours of sleep every night. He or she (here's a time when not being sexist pays off) is usually selected before birth (by despot Media Moghuls) when their pregnant mothers' wombs are injected with a potent mix consisting in 1:16 parts caffeine. This means they only take a break once every fortnight, for 15 minutes, to get rid of red film before their eyes. A typical day-in-the-life of an ncm then goes something like:

6.00am: final news byte of previous day done, checks calendar for pre-announced happenings for today. grunts with satisfaction as he sees 3 promising entries; filmstar to be released from jail for the 89th time, the new guy on indian cricket team will be calling a retired cricketer for a 7 min conversation for valuable advice, the finance minister will be announcing the new fiscal policy. its a no-brainer. calls his camera teams to cover the first two. people can read about the deficit in the newspapers. calls his sports reporter to discuss list of ex-cricketers and current club rejects to call for expert opinions on the nature of conversation. Decides to add the channel's technology segment anchor to discuss the cricketer's choice of cell phone.

7.15am: checks email for updates from various political party media representatives. Two emails. One party will be asking for a ban on the internet citing its culpability in corrupting the youth of the nation and also leading to closure of two local video-stores specializing in porn. As a peaceful mark of protest, they would be burning a dozen routers, ethernet cables and destroying keyboards. The second email is about another party protesting against the protest. They would do the usual bus-burning, windshield-smashing and pelting of stones. ncm grins...this was going to be an easy one. commissions a team for live coverage, reminds them to take a few crates of bottled water lest the protestors flag in the heat.

12.00pm: Calls his newspaper readers (not newsreaders) for an update. They've read every daily newspaper and tabloid from cover and cover and identified 52 potential inflammatory statements made by public figures ranging from the ex-ambassador from newfoundland to the child actor from the latest movie. He decides on the foreign author who makes a reference to brown bread as being a part of his diet in his interview to 'Culinary Delights'. Calls his most vocal reporter and packs off a team to camp outside his hotel to ask him why he called for the economic ruin of all white-bread makers in the nation.

3.15pm: the protest stories are losing steam. calls his bank to arrange a wire-transfer to a remote village in a far corner where the recipient walks to the playground to surreptitiously nudge a 7 year old girl (to be named princess) down a drain-hole. The nearby elite army troops swing into action in the 'Save the Princess' campaign. ncm's camera team is already there.

5.10pm: on being questioned the author retorted that "white bread is unhealthy". hallelujah! mob goes on a rampage, trashing the lobby of the hotel. emails flood in from several political parties that they will demand a retraction of the statement or the city will burn to protest the exploitation of white bread-makers. Another party rep email states the concept of bread is against our culture and plans protests to protect the interests of roti-makers. ncm sighs with relief...

6.05pm: princess starts climbing out of the drain. the camera man quietly nudges her back in. Still 2 hours to go for primetime...

Technorati Tags: blah, news, television channels

Maximizing productivity

What is it about cafeterias that invokes the worst in every human discipline? Assuming of course that the only human disciplines are planning and designing. Flimsy albeit that assumption may be, its worthwhile to consider the aspects of that area meant to satisfy one of the basic needs of humanity. The purpose of this post is not to petition for work areas to allow for satisfaction of other, more primal needs.

A look at the plan for any office building would clearly show that the design of an office cafeteria has to be a separate subject in itself, called something like 'Working Drone Nutrition Area Design', a hybrid science combining the science of architecture with psychology. This must involve complex algorithms to ensure that the area is at 125% utilization irrespective of your attempt to delay your lunch hour till the point your bodily functions start to recede into something resembling a comatose cabbage. It turns out that the excess 25% are usually people who have entered a zombie-like state while waiting for tables to become available. No one has seen what happens to them but it wouldn't be impossible to believe that the cafeteria staff moonlight as suppliers of crash test dummies.

It'd be too easy if all it took to get a table was for the planets to line up to spell 'BURP'. It would take more like a political party that does not rely on divisive groupism to make itself heard. Heck, nothing's that impossible. Having sufficiently exulted over the capture of your very own slab of formica-topped plywood, one surveys the options.

Nowhere is the disparity between the 'haves' and the 'have-nots' as prominent as on the cafeteria table. The haves = 'Has stay-at-home-wife-who-wakes-up-to-cook-for-me' shamelessly parades his assorted array that boasts nutrition, taste and the odd dollop of love. The have-nots = 'Have-no-chance-of-living-past-35-coz-of-the-cafeteria-food' meanwhile look through the menu that has all of 4 options (counting 'extra ketchup') and know by rote anyway before picking what they do everyday.

The effect is that the average lunch thus lasts about 11 minutes, 8 of which the haves spend screwing the lids on their stay-warm tiffins and the have-nots spending suspiciously poking at their food to check for unwarranted movement and looking at when they can back to their microsoft office document. Productivity soars! If that's not brilliant use of psychology, I don't know what is.

Technorati Tags: blah, work

The WACA - Conquered!

"Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war!" - William Shakespeare

My limited exposure to classical literature as opposed to  mainstream fiction means the phrase "Dogs of War" conjures up images of a grizzled bunch of mercenaries sponsored by an American industrialist laying siege to the rudimentary military of an obscure African nation. The intent of the siege, to replace the despot leader with another who would sign over the mining rights to the mineral-rich expanse of the country. The magic of Forsyth's writing is his ability to go into the nuts-and-bolts details of every operation that his characters undertake and so, the first half of the book is a 'dummies guide to procurement for mercenaries' with everything from combat jackets to rocket propelled grenade launchers.

The significance of 'the Home advantage' in sport has been such that many an encounter has been marketed with the classic setting showing the 'Away' team's attempt at storming the citadel. So it was with Lambeau Field and the Green Bay Packers (until their near-perfect home record was vapourized over the last couple of seasons). So it is with teams going to Australia. A record of 22 wins out of 25 played over five years highlights the massive gulf between the world champions and the rest. It is for this reason that one can't help but visualize the fourth day of the third test as an army launching an enthusiastic assault on the impregnable fortress that is the WACA.

Past campaigns by other teams saw half-hearted charges at the ramparts only to be either cut down by sharp-shooting snipers like Mcgrath and Lee. The first charge dismantled by the likes of Hayden and Ponting followed by Symonds and Gilchrist who line up opposition bowlers in the sights of their Howitzers before blowing them to smithereens. Jan 19 saw a spirited charge by a team that was light on heavy artillery that had, for three days dodged and weaved the pounding from the four heavy guns that were expected to anhialate the Indian ranks. Inspite of the additional ammo of a 413 run lead and 2 wickets, none expected it to be easy. It took sustained accuracy from Ishant Sharma to take out one of the big guns before some lucky ricochets got rid of Hussey and Symonds. Even then, the Aussies blazed away, going after a victory that every other team would not even consider. Clarke manned the guns supremely well, raking the Indian charge, putting doubts in their minds. Even with 5 wickets down, the writing was not on the wall, and it was only when Sehwag's revolver shot that took out Gilchrist and Kumble took out Clarke, the defences were breached. With the Indians into the stronghold, Johnson and Clark put up some vicious hand-to-hand fighting that pushed the attackers back one more time temporarily causing confusion before being finally overwhelmed by the invaders. The WACA...conquered!

My ode to the stereotypical war movie sated, its worth considering that the margin of 72 runs after having been dominated for almost every session of play over four days shows how gritty an opponent, the world champions are, and you wonder the difference a certain healthy hamstring would have made, in the form of the massive Mathew Hayden. Another difference between champion teams and others might be evident in how they probably won't be raking the umpires over the coals for two decisions that had their own telling impact on the day. In Melbourne, Roger Federer almost looked human in his five set marathon against J. Tipsarevic. Funny thing, sport.

Technorati Tags: Test Cricket, Cricket, WACA, Australia, India

In search of excellence

It could be considered a waste of nine days of letting my systems power down for about four hours a day. It could even be considered that it was a bad deal if I had to resort to injecting myself with copious amounts of caffeine to fight the temptation to catch some shuteye in meeting rooms and to up the volume on the car stereo to avoid testing a driverless car without the self-drive capabilities. To watch the inevitable unfold, just as it has so many times on overseas tours and to wonder if there is any point to it as a loud ad irritates your senses for the 140th time as you hear the sound of the newspaper landing at your door.

Who would enjoy watching the team they support being trampled over and at the same time invite the ire of family for looking like a zombie through that period? For over a decade I have had my reasons. None of them were to do with watching the Indian cricket team perform. What was it about then?

It was about watching cricket in its natural habitat. Technically, the home of the sport lies in a bunch of old, at times rickety stadiums built around tradition-steeped grounds in Western Europe where one finds geriatric 'members' drooling onto their ties as they sleep in the middle of enthralling sessions of cricket. But for me its soul resides in the set of grounds that have bred pitches that have always been decisive in their nature - hard and bouncy or crumbling and turning, rarely indifferent and slow. Surfaces that support batsmen with decisive footwork and bowlers who can bend their backs.

It was about sporting crowds. Capacity crowds for test matches. The facilities such that spectators come to relax and take in good cricket. Raucous support for the home team, but genuine appreciation for the opposition. Even some cheers when the visiting team shows some spirit to stage a comeback. Standing ovations for truly great performances, irrespective of team. These are the hallmarks of the crowds in a country where sports are very much a part of daily life and not just a means to a borrowed sense of achievement.

It was about the DNA of playing the sport. It is a human trait to withdraw into yourself at the appearance of a threat. While most line-ups 'consolidated' after the fall of quick wickets, these blokes attacked. While most fielding sides looked rudderless when faced with high-quality batsmen on song, they regrouped and set attacking fields.

And it was about the rare individual performance. The odd hour or even session maybe where the Indian team would match the Aussies, punch for punch. Be it a Tendulkar rearguard (of that there are many) or a fine spell of quick bowling from an Indian new ball bowler. The genuine applause reminding you that sport is as much about temperament as much about skill. The 03-04 series does not count as much because, and I've said this in a previous post, it was more an extended farewell party for Steve Waugh.

Not any more. In the last five days at the SCG, the Indians matched the Aussies in every way possible. Instead of frittering away advantages by playing circumspect and diffident cricket, they wrested initiatives and made things happen when none looked like happening. In spite of obvious shortcomings on bowling and fielding, they went toe to toe with Ponting's team and scrapped. The men around the bat even when the batsmen were well past their fifties, the radical fields (all off-side for Hayden) that stifled the flow of runs for a significant period. India's game-plans all but thwarted the Aussie plan to pile on the runs and declare with time to bowl India out. With some luck with umpiring, there would have been a much larger first innings lead and a much smaller 4th innings chase. Luck can not detract from a lion-hearted effort by the entire team. Now that's a performance.

Now, it is also about watching the Indian team perform...

Technorati Tags: cricket, India, Australia, SCG

Veisalgia

I don't know what it is about a hangover that makes me want to blog. Must be the sadomasochistic side of me that makes me screw my eyes to eliminate the double-vision, peer into the thin screen of liquid crystal and drum up crap to post. Of course, sense prevails and I give up the endeavour in about 45 seconds and go back to groaning and clutching my head in periodic intervals. So, the festive season aka 'alcohol poisoning season' is just about past us. Combine that with the odd late night at work and 4.30 am risings to watch our cricket team being given lessons in, you guessed it, cricket, and you have the world's longest hangover.

Before: Driving while drunk is not something I figure deserves a merit badge and so my solution usually has been to forsake my ride for a black-and-yellow. But that means travelling in a creaking tin cupboard on wheels whose drivers maneuver with the fervent belief that they are immune to every law of physics. But given the lack of options, we’d just hang on and hunch our shoulders so the top of our heads didn’t break through the top of the rattletrap at the next backbreaker ..errr..speedbreaker.

Enter, the Mumbai Traffic Police and their edict to make it ‘uneconomical’ to drive while under the influence.
Now: Enter – Party Hard Drivers. While the name might mistakenly invoke images of piss drunk party-goers arriving at your door to offer rides, the idea is simple. You call a number to arrange for a driver at your doorstep for the specific purpose of driving your sloshed ass back home. For a flat rate between 10pm and 3am with Rs 50 per additional hour, you have the convenience of your own car driven by, as I found out, a reasonably professional driver who did not casually add a 100% premium to his fee grunting “night-time charge”. You have to wonder why the 'spirit barons' didn't think of this on their own. Free limo-rides to and from all the watering holes in the city!

sheesh...all this talk of booze...quite ashamed of myself...so now to chalk out my resolutions to get into mountaineering shape, earn my first million and attain nirvana..in that order

p.s: the title means "uneasiness after debauchery" or in common parlance...a hangover

Technorati Tags: blah, life, veisalgia

Not guilty!

He's arrogant, opinionated and seldom bothers with social niceties. He seems to take sadistic pleasure in aggravating his biggest threats and often the most important people in the room. When faced with a lose-lose proposition, he sabotages his side of the equation bad enough to cast suspicion on the integrity of his opposition. He's been referred to as Muhammad Ali who survives more on reputation than skill in the latter half of his career. He's been married five times, the last of which left him when she found him having sex with the caterer, three hours after the ceremony. He's also the founding partner of one of the most successful firms on Fleet Street and has a self-proclaimed win-loss record of 6043-0. His most famous quote consists only of his full name. He is my hero.

The courtroom packed with people seated on wooden benches. The mood, suitably sombre as the two sides present their argument to the twelve individuals saddled with the task of deciding in favour of one of them. The prosecution rests after making an impassioned plea, trying to sew up every loophole. Counsel for the defence starts by raising the not-uncommon arguments about reasonal doubt, then proceeds to unbutton his trousers, unhook his suspenders and moons the jury albeit veiled in white boxers with a giant bullseye as he finishes his point about the concept of CYA (cover your ass).

In his own words..

"Waive reading Judge. And ask that these ridiculous charges be dismissed on the grounds of ridiculousness.''

''Alan, I have trouble with this sort of subject matter...It's my father. Sometimes he wore dresses. He called it a kilt and sang all those Scottish songs, but we knew.''

"Last name: Crane...First name: Denny...Not guilty...over and out!"

Technorati Tags: quote, Boston Legal

Anatomy of a kickoff

Engagement kickoff meeting. We'll call the key participants Entity A (hint: starts with a P...ends with an artner) and Entity B (hint: John Grisham). There are others involved, and by relative importance, they will be called non-entities.

Why not just refer to them with their names? Three reasons; Client confidentiality, lest the managers of the 'Unethical use of information for material gain' department of every competing organization to our client is trawling the internet and other dark places to find information that they can use, two; this is only a representation of a gazillion similar meetings occurring all over the world and three; it would make the story less fun to tell.

Prologue
Entities A and B arrive (within 4-5 minutes of each other, about 10 minutes past scheduled time) with non-entities in tow. It is important here to note that the number of non-entities could vary depending on the scope of the engagement. First few minutes are spent on one or more of the following: traffic (how they started from home/office at daybreak), weather (in proportion to how much rain there has been), work (making sure that no actual details are mentioned). Smiles and nods all around from the non-entities. One of the non-entities (usually the newest) has twiddled with the focus and sundry knobs on the projector to maximize graphic impact. (it’s a mechanism to soothe his frayed nerves not unlike when FBI agents, when in a potentially volatile situation, finger their coat buttons except they're doing it to gain ready access to the .45 in their hip holster).

The meeting
The assortment of boxes, arrows, pyramids et al start their procession on screen as entity A waxes eloquent. The typical exchange goes along the lines of:

Entity A: I have been involved with 117 similar engagements and I'll be closely monitoring every stage of the project (I'll insist that every deliverable is sent to me atleast 2 hours before it is due none of which I'll see coz my blackberry can not open attachments). Our approach combines the collective wisdom of three generations (of fruit flies) with the essence of all the information there is in the world that will be superimposed with our patented frameworks (that table in the Economist on the page I used to mop up my spilt coffee this morning looked good).
Entity B: Being a very a result-oriented CEO, I'd like to see atleast five generations and that other generation born after specialized in-breeding in the north of the Andes (read about it that morning in a google news sidebar...others read too you smug bastard)
Entity A: Not a problem, Only yesterday, I lunched with the senior scientist who supervised that particular generation (glanced and nodded briefly in a buffet line at a symposium on dog allergies when I bumped into him causing the elbow of his jacket to dip into my paneer makhani).
…67 slides later…
Entity A:...in summary, it would be safe to say that implementing our solution will increase topline by 467% and deliver you to the land of milk, honey and playmates (potentially if all planets line up just right, if elvis comes back and if other less likelier things happen, you might get more than just carpal tunnel from signing our invoices)
Entity B: 467% in topline growth sounds about right but we would also reduce the need for capital expenditure completely while achieving a 97% decrease in operating costs and as a natural extension of that exercise, ensure that someone walks my dogs - twice a day.

Sharp intake of breath from the non-entities but the sound is drowned by that of furious scribbling

Epilogue
Pleasantries exchanged as the group files out of the room…Entity A turns to the biggest non-entity and says with a smile "Don't worry, I'll ensure there is no scope creep...you only have to walk his dog once a day..also, don’t bother copying me on the emails henceforth, just contact my secretary to schedule for the final presentation”

Technorati Tags: blah, consulting, work

sweet spot

"There is a point in time when you and you only know - the rest know it a second later - and it's the best feeling as a batsman." - Adam Gilchrist (on hitting a six)

I can't recall any other comment, spoken or written, that captures, so beautifully, the essence of batting. Commentators talk about the sweet sound that a well-timed shot makes, but that is only a fraction of the story. Get it wrong and the ball dribbles half-heartedly to the inner circle, the impact sending a shudder up the spine of the bat that travels through your arms. What its all about is the way it feels to make contact with the bat flowing through its arc, the combination of the point of contact on the bat, the bat-speed at that point in the arc, the flexion of the wrists that adds thunderous power to send the ball rocketing, either in a lazy arc or burning a trail along the grass to the long off fence...Perfection

Technorati Tags: sports

Terima Kasih

In the days of yore (never knew when or what yore was), hunters and trackers could tell their exact location based on the lay of the land, colour of the soil and vegetation. I figured I'd perfected my own method (besides of course knowing where the hell I was going in the first place).

The theory (Before): Its based on my first interaction with a local official. A combination of the accent and politeness quotient. The former would indicate which side of the equator and continent you're on, the latter, how developed the country you're in. Given my only excursions before last week were to the US and Australia (for current purposes, stopovers in Zurich, Frankfurt and London should count). Its only logical that the difference across nations in per capita income and the associated disparity, population density, financial stability will manifest itself noticably.

That had to explain the condescendingly bored tone of the official at the Chatrapati Shivaji International Airport (Mumbai) that made clear his absolute control over every individual leaving the country's shores or the salivating expressions on the faces of those stationed at baggage carousels to 'help' passengers, who sidle up going "psst...need help with getting through customs?" Also the contrasting smiley "Good Morning Sir" at the local SSN office in small-city, USA.

That theory however died quietly in a nation not unlike ours in two key aspects; population density and disparity in economic development. Every interaction -polite and respectful. The traffic, as dense as Mumbai in peak hour, and yet, orderly and minus the honking. The excellent infrastructure makes you wonder why Mumbai's arterial roads are still 2-laned dribbles clogged worse than Elvis's must've been when he croaked. That said, judging by NCR, four lanes are not an automatic cure for boorishness.

The theory (After): It has now been whittled to saying that if the official is polite and shows a smidgeon of pride in his work, you can't tell where you are, but one place you're definitely not is India.

p.s: Completely unrelated note, the food in that part of the world is amazingly diverse. My list of meals experiences include padang (indonesian), sushi & teppanyakki (japanese), kimchi (korean), mexican, indo-indonesian-chinese (at a restaurant called Queens!) interspersed with Krispy Kremes and Starbucks. My abs hurt from the crunches. Guilt can be an amazing motivator.

Oh, and the title means Thank You in bahasa indonesia, not the swear word you were thinking

Technorati Tags: blah, life, vacation, indonesia

Necessity: the motherhood of apple pie!

Its that time again. to put together all that you will need for a defined period of time into a rigid plastic receptacle. For someone who relies on striding out of the shower rifling through my wardrobe to follow a regimented process:
step 1: pick up item
step 2: sniff for pervasive body odours. if none proceed to next step, else glumly put item in laundry basket and go to step 1
step 3: examine for all-too-evident creasing. if not visible from more than 5 feet, proceed, else go to step 1

its anathema to think of the things I'll need for a week in advance! Packing! The prime example of the failure of the phrase "necessity is the mother of invention". Else, how does one explain the non-existence of the following:

1. Wrinkle-free & perspiration-repellant clothing: The former does supposedly exist and the marketing claims are true too, as long as once you put them on, you believe that your back is made of brittle graphite and you do not test the flexion of your joints (namely; knees and elbows). The latter, well, would reduce the need for all those changes of clothes, so you could saunter into an airport with maybe a gym-bag worth of underwear changes (if you're particularly fussy).
2. Multi-purpose shoes: Blame it on the capitalist mindset to have everyone own multiple pairs of shoes; by that I don't even mean the two cabinets worth (and then some) that S owns but the need for formal - black/brown, sneakers, sandals etc. Why not one pair that can change colour between black and brown and is supple and provides enough support to take a pounding on a treadmill? But no, if Reebok's schizophrenia-inducing ads are to be believed, there's two people in everyone. fair enough i say, but why cant both wear the same pair!
3. Dress codes not bordering on sadomasochism: It was one thing when the stuffy old coots in good ol' england dressed in their frock coats, stiff collars, suspenders and went "Jolly good I say!" They had there bonded labour aka butler in the form of Jeeves or Threepwood or what you have you to track down and launder every item of clothing. Why didn't one of these stiffs realise that as you moved closer to the equator, you needed fewer layers and less of your body covered? More importantly, why haven't we figured this one out on our own? Imagine going to work in thin spun-cotton tees and shorts/cargos with open-sandals.

I suppose the promise of exotic south-east asian massages does alleviate the suffering to an extent though. Here's to Indonesia; Happy Diwali and all that jazz...

Betrayal

It was a snowbound friday evening in january when we decided that picking a dvd from the vending machine in the lobby and retiring to our temperature-controlled apartment was more desirable than losing an assortment of toes and fingers to frostbite in the 3 block walk that would bring us to our pub. Turned out people other than us had also been thinking along the same sensible lines and the traditional wham-bang-whimper movies were sold out. When someone suggested watching a Friends dvd, I punched some random buttons on the machine out of desperation and out popped this dvd that had 2 asian guys on the cover with a mini-burger in the foreground. The title 'Harold and Kumar go to Whitecastle'. The unanimous verdict: Kal Penn's the hollywood counterpart of Sunita Williams (so what if they're both as Indian as German shepherds), and the rest, as they say, is history. Watched it thrice over a 6 month period.

So, imagine when, years later, during the promos, "We shall settle this like our forefathers used to..." says the stylishly coiffed, square-jawed blond ...the confused response from his asian adversary "you will exploit me economically?..." in that unmistakable accent that resembles Abu from Springfield than any visa-toting brown-skin to clear immigration. 'Van Wilder 2 - The rise of Taj'. S and I looked at each other and next weekend was wordlessly pencilled in to watch what, had to be, the best movie in a long time.

There are disappointments and then there are disappointments. Everything from the cast of one-dimensional characters to the so-called story about a bunch of misfits who go from outsiders to champions of the 'house cup' at Camford university. The name given to the university seems far less ridiculous when the dude, Kal Penn, introduces himself as "Taj Mahal Badalandabad". When the horny father encourages his son in "the pursoot of the pink taco", you realise then that the target audience was never beyond expat Indian high-school-goers.

Now I know how those of faith must've felt when it was shattered, how investors of Enron, Worldcom etc must've felt when their 'gilt-edged' investments changed overnight. This was one bad movie choice I couldn't blame on S.

Technorati Tags: blah

Rodin's learnings

One would think that a month's not a long enough time to form insights into the world and its machinations and one would be right. Unless of course one spends a large percentage of his time in that position made famous by Rodin's thinker. I'm sure if one held a magnifying glass to the throne (pun intended) on which the dude sits, they'd see a faint outline that says 'Parryware' or its equivalent in the early 1900s. Mind you, its debatable whether he was contemplating the fate of humanity or suffering from a severe bout of constipation. But there's another way to ponder the deeper meaning, that of sitting in traffic in any one of our megacities. Think about it, both are essential to-dos before the rest of your day can begin and both happen at a measured pace no matter how much you want to hurry, but yeah, only one can realistically result in skid marks. So much for the power to draw pictures with words.

The human brain, pattern recognition and learning are synonymous, right? Not! Any routes that get anywhere in this city go over bridges (not flyovers - which should've been more aptly named crawlovers anyway). These bridges, built about the time we gained independence, were designed by people who did not foresee economic prosperity and carmakers from japan and korea. Hence, two lanes and no dividers. These could be functional enough one might say, but then as a gap appears on one of the lanes, an idiot-cum-laude moves into the opposite lane in an attempt to expedite his journey across the bridge. As soon as this occurs, several like-minded idiots (not conferred the merit because of lack of originality) squeal their tires to form a convoy behind the visionary. Now, since the roads feeding into that opposite lane had only slowed down and not disappeared, no sooner has the convoy passed 3 whole cars, they encounter an unrelenting stream from the opposite direction using, their rightful lane. Result: about thrice the time that would've taken everyone to cross the bridge is spent honking and maneuvering to regain forward motion. It is possible that every such occurrence is caused by a fresh-faced newbie using the city's roads for the first time, its also possible that marion jones actually thought she was consuming ayurvedic cough medicine before winning those medals.

(Good) Bloggers and slackers are the same species. Ok, they're fantastic reads, able to elicit the most un-imaginable insights from seemingly random occurrences and package it all in a manner that has one loudly snorting one's approval. Spew, ttiot, madman are some prime examples. But I couldn't present such controversial hypothesis without evidence that's strong as oak. And thats from observation of the one that calls himself ford prefect and who's called several other colourful things by others. While I can already hear the murmurs of "blaspheme" and "infidel" from various corners of the globe (globes have corners?), my data is irrefutable, given I've been sharing a desk with the bugger for a month now. Ok, so the guy's been on the cusp of a lifechanging event (or so it seems prior), and I certainly wasn't melting my keyboard with the amount of work I was churning out a month in the runup to my nuptials, but then I was doing little else but making trips to stores I only used to snicker at, to pick up outfits I'd only seen in portraits of long-dead Indian royalty. FP however, has been lounging in his seat, typing out his learnings from 'The Book' with the odd glance at an expense statement that needed reimbursing from his vacation...err...assignment in Japan. No hectic last minute invitation card sendouts, no rummagings to find tickets, rather he found time to rehearse for his sangeet with a professional choreographer! I rest my case.

the Klu-Klux Klan and real-estate agents

Event 1a: Jan 22, 1973. The court rules in favour of Ms Roe (real name Norma McCorvey) in Wade v/s Roe

Event 1b: Twenty years later the crime rates in all of the United States plummeted to all time lows.

Steven Levitt (author of Freakonomics) said not only are the two events not unrelated, but that the first caused the second. The reason, the first event legalized abortion in the US.

Event 2a: Year 2007 - India wins the 20-20 world cup

Event 2b: Year 2020 (yes, the year). The venue: Helsinki, Finland. The ICC has progressed in its efforts to globalize the game. (Not much of a risk considering the expat asian population that fills the stadium). The crowd is a sea of the India tricolour and the green and white of Pakistan (The flags are now thin flexible LCDs that can be programmed to display varying flags and insignia. So, the uprooted asian can still be a part of the community and support the local team when their 'birth country' team isn't involved).

The captains face up for the toss (sponsored by Pepsi). The spectators (on the ground and in their homes), watch expectantly as the coin drops with a faint thunk (toss-mike sponsored by Intex) on the grass. The Indian captain wins the toss and elects to bat. The giant screen shows "Uttam Singh - Mirpur", picked by an instant draw who texted in 'India - Bat' using the code on the bottom of his Pepsi can. The prize, Hero Honda's newest 1700 cc bike, 'Manhood'. A commercial plays (on the giant screen and tvs worldwide), the Indian captain zooms up from the depths of a steep ravine, rescuing a ridiculously hot chick, brakes in front of the camera and says "Girls love riding on my manhood".

The teams go back to their dugouts to await the results of the HDFC ek kadam aage process. Fans text in their preferred batting order and the exact match with the order submitted by the captain are deemed winners (who receive bright yellow caps with HDFC on the front). Instant draw picks a mega-winner and hooks him up via webcam showing a picture-in-picture of him explaining his rationale for the batting order.

The batsmen come out onto the ground to the roar of the crowd. The dynamic logos on their shirts and bats swirl and radiate as they approach the wickets. The batsman takes guard and gives the thumbs up to the umpire (on a distant building rooftop in the background, a huge glowing Thums Up ad glows brilliantly for a few seconds). Windscreens slide into place to block the light breeze running across the ground to prevent undue deviation of the ball. During change of overs, they show recorded footage depending on which side is doing worse.

The umpire signals for play to begin. Bowlers no longer exist. The fielding captain presses a button on a device, called the Bowlflex (no sponsors) and the metallic arm delivers short of length, 6" outside off stump, at precisely 84 mph. The device allows captains to impart a degree of swing and vary speeds between 70 mph and 88 mph (for seam up bowling) and (55 - 75 mph for spin bowling) - The speeds were calibrated after analysis over a 3 year period showed that speeds out of this range were not conducive to stroke-making.

As the batsmen launch into their shots, a panel of experts consisting of past Indian captains and one surviving retired fast bowler discuss the Bowlflex settings chosen by the captain. (40% bowlers underwent intensive rehab to retrain as batsmen, the remaining committed suicide). Viewers call in to discuss their strategies with the experts. (only callers subscribing to the new Reliance 'cricket ki lo' plan can avail of this feature)

Shivraj Singh launches another one into the Sahara stand. The crowd roars...

Technorati Tags: blah, sports, world cup

Universal Trust and Equity Inc.

Universal Trust and Equity Inc. <malabophillips@yahoo.co.uk>
reply-to: universaltrustequityinc@yahoo.co.uk

Dear recipient,
I am Mr. Malabo Phillips, the Accountant General of Universal Trust and Equity Inc. We are into Maritime and General Construction Insurance. I got your email address from the Internet and I am counting on your sincerity and integrity.
THE DEAL:-
Engr. Gerald Hudson was my client and a foreign expatriate working for County Construction Company (C.C.C). He lived in Lagos - Nigeria and worked in Ghana, Cameroon, Togo, Republic of Benin and Nigeria as the West African Regional Head of County Construction Company (C.C.C). He has been my client for nineteen years until his death on 10th September 2006. The following equipment were secretly insured with us at Universal Trust and Equity Inc:- Caravans, Fork-Lift trucks, Back hoes, Breakdown Trucks Excavators, Bulldozers, Tractor - Trailors, Vans, Concrete Mixers, Dump Trucks and Flat Beds. Engr. Gerald Hudson and Engr. Alfredo Moore are signatories for County Construction Company. Engr. Gerald is dead and Engr. Alfredo's appointment was terminated 6 months ago for extending his vacation without statutory approval. Presently County Construction Company has a total of US$7,500,000.00 to draw from Universal Trust and Equity Inc., after due process and service charge is paid by County Construction Company.
THE COMMITTMENT:-
All the necessary documents to process the release of the US$7,500,000.00 is on my table. I will be retiring in December 2007 to relocate and join my family in Zambia. I need a credible business man or woman who will assist me execute this deal successfully and you will be adequately compensated. With my recommendation and partnership with you, the funds
will be transferred to your bank account any where in the world. Treat this message confidentially as I appeal for your maximum cooperation. This business is 100% risk free with your involvement. Please your response will be highly appreciated.
Yours faithfully,
Mr. Malabo Phillips

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

Dear Malabo

Hope you are keeping well. I do not ordinarily go for get-rich-quick schemes, but the fact that you found my email id on the internet fills me with confidence. It follows from your source that the recipient of an email would be sincere and integral (or better still, a man of integrity).

DEAL:- Please accept my condolences for the death of your long-standing client from the international conglomerate with the modest name of C.C.C. The fact that your client company elevated its engineers to head continental operations shows that meritocracies not only exist, but also flourish. It speaks of his tremendous business acumen to have insured his firms equipment with your firm U.T.E. Here let me congratulate you on choosing a name that would befuddle competitors into thinking that you were in the business of investing into companies than secretly insuring their equipment with their regional heads.

I should now confess that your mention of Engr. Gerald as having being the sole signatory had roused my suspicions about the legitimacy of your deal. It is unfortunate for Engr. Alfredo to have extended his vacation and hence having forfeit, not only his position, but also C.C.C.s claim on the insurance premium paid.

COMMITTMENT:- I can also see the urgency of the matter for you considering a) you are keen to return to your loving family and b) the necessary documents are taking up valuable space on your desk. I consider myself to be a shrewd judge of character and the fact that you are looking for a business person of either sex tells me that you are a fair-minded person with a deep rooted sense of equality. There is hope for this planet yet!

It also bodes well that the funds of CCC can be transferred to any bank in the world (neither of my banks has a branch in Nigeria) and what more assurance can a person get than a "100% risk free with your involvement" from a respected member of the financial services industry.

My bank account details will be sent to your personal mail id only. Please ensure that the details are treated with utmost secrecy. I too shall count on your sincerity and integrity.

yours faithfully,

recipient

p.s : please send me the email id of your secretary so as to plan a farewell party for your impending retirement.

Technorati Tags: blah, email

20-20 'four'sight

Cricket's turned a corner with its latest format involving 20 overs a side and skimpy cheerleaders. While opinions are divided about whether its the saving grace or the death knell for the game, its generally accepted that its likely to have a permanent impact.

The timeline of development of the game over time could be divided into 3 phases:

Phase I - Need for results

The accidental format played to compensate for a test match lost to rain as a way to kill time turned out to be quite an entertainer and addressed a few of the downsides of test match cricket.

• Five days - 15 sessions - 30 hours of cricket
• Preponderance of draws making the game look less competitive than it was
• Emphasis on individual records than team results

Phase II - Packer, floodlit cricket and the tube

It took a while for the limited overs version to emerge from the shadow of real 'test-match' cricket. Games were still played in the template of tests with the result of most games being an after-thought. It took a businessman to take giant strides to unlock the potential of the game and make some key developments.

• Tournaments involving more than 2 countries making results more significant
• Coloured clothing and white balls, even for teams from the subcontinent (pardon the weak pun) made games more viewable for television since video cameras, in those days, weren't good enough to track the red ball

Phase III - Handcuff the bowler

Even the instant version of the game suffered from the drawback of being about twice as long as that most yawn-inducing of sports called baseball. To compensate for the lull periods, a 30-yard circle was drawn, field restrictions were introduced and anything shaving leg-stump was deemed to be a wide.

Recent modifications have added 5 more overs of merry hitting albeit in 3 installments to total 20 overs

But, in spite of all those changes, 100 overs of cricket means periods of consolidation and the price of an entire day for those at the ground.

20-20

This format is pretty much 50-50 cricket, with the 20-40 over stages of each innings carved out. Hence, the biggest positive, for viewers, is the duration that's comparable to a bollywood flick (75 mins/innings + 10 min changeover)

However, in its current format, it suffers from the same ills of predictability, though at a more frenetic pace. Going by past record, the game will have keep getting shortened to eliminate every shot that is not aimed at clearing the boundary.

The problem (that applies to all limited-over formats)

The bowler has been reduced to a non-entity barring the odd burst and fielding captains have nothing to do but damage-control. Every rule and development in the game is heavily loaded in favour of the batsmen, right from the power plays to the bats that clear the boundary even off thick edges, not to mention the rock hard flat pitches.

The solution

Make it an actual contest between bat and ball and not just between 2 batting line-ups. While any measure to curtail batsmen would be as daft as what has been done to bowlers, they could be made to actually earn their runs.

1. Eliminate the french cut : Is there a more frustrating sight than to see a bowler do everything right to beat the batsman only to find the ball take the edge (inside or outside) and run away to the boundary? Sure, it was fun when the batsman was Utthappa and the bowler was Anderson, but it does not make sense to penalize the bowler for beating the bat! The area between fine leg and thirdman should be a 'No run' zone. This won't eliminate too many actual shots, maybe a few dinky reverse sweeps
2. Scoring zones decided by the fielding captain : Certain areas in the field could be deemed to offer bonus runs for 5 over periods. This would mean the fielding captain would look at his bowlers and decide where would it be most difficult for a batsman to hit it? e.g The area between deep extra cover and long off could be the zone for a 5-over period and the batsman could get 1.5 times the runs for every boundary hit through there (so no mistimed agricultural hoicks but actual middle of the bat shots)
3. Rolling substitutions : Allow batsmen to be replaced if the batting captain feels he has a better batsman for a particular kind of bowler. This means, that both captains have the opportunity to pit their best against those of the opposition.

All said it will take more than just reducing the duration of the game to make it as viewable as most other sports.

Technorati Tags: sports, world cup, opinion

bear wisdom

"The third-rate mind is only happy when it is thinking with the majority. The second-rate mind is only happy when it is thinking with the minority. The first-rate mind is only happy when it is thinking." - A.A. Milne (author - Winnie the Pooh)

Outfielded

When we win:
Batting: Powerful line up, vast experience, inimitable skill, explosive lower order
Bowling: Skillful swing bowlers, exploited conditions beautifully
Fielding: Competent and reliable while not spectacular

When they lose:
Batting: Top order well past their prime, bad runners between the wickets
Bowling: Lackluster and pedestrian
Fielding: Weak arms, too many slow movers, butterfingers

This is not really a piece in staunch defense of the men in blue but a study in the yo-yo effect the Indian team's performance has on the the analytical abilities of the revered ex-cricketers with microphones. I've always had my indifferent reservations about the validity of comments made by Sunil Gavaskar and Ravi Shastri as opposed to the likes of Richie Benaud or Ian Chappell. To me, it has always sounded like the former pair only stated, repeated and belabored the obvious.

Example:
fast-medium bowler overpitches and gets driven through the covers for four

RS/SG: "Oh thats a glorious shot, beautifully driven trough the covers for four. The fielder had no chance....He's (the batsman) looking to be aggressive here...and thats a good thing"

RB/IC: "It doesn't matter how much the pitch is seaming if you bowl that length...got the treatment it deserved...lots of gaps in the field and thats four..."

The none-too-subtle difference in the two where our home-grown stalwarts play to the gallery (thats in delirious raptures), to heap praise on what is actually a bowler error to present a delivery that an arthritic 60 year old with a cane could hit.

Considering the almost godly soothsayer reputations that these two enjoy, no wonder that every observer uses their catch-phrases as their sounding board. I'm going to stick my neck out on how two particular cases where they've made shallow assessments

Case #1 - The 'Mahi' way
Last year, when Dhoni was pounding attacks in India, piling one destructive knock on the other, he was power (the agricultural swings) and style (the brylcreemed hair) combined - an advertisers dream and our answer to Gilchrist (to me its traumatic to even put the names in the same sentence). Messrs RS and SG also announced him as such, proclaiming him as "jjjust what India needed". I didn't get it. All I saw was a strong dude with a front foot and huge axe swings. Flintoff and co. have reduced him to awkwardly fending off the backfoot spooning catches within the circle. The dude's got a good attitude though, so, am guessing he'll work on his game before Australia.

Case #2 - 11 Yuvrajs in the field would eliminate India's fielding woes
As per RS/SG, the weak links in India's fielding are Ganguly, Munaf, Powar and RP Singh and that Dravid screws up by not having them inside the ring and placing Yuvraj on the boundary. Sure, those names might be examples of the 'anti-Rhodes' (something like how the devil is the anti-christ, or isn't he?), some basics that the experts seem to've ignored. Good fielding consists of 2 things, both equally important a) stopping the ball and b) getting it back to stumps in the shortest possible time. The best fielders, think Ponting and Collingwood, rarely dive! Because they're quick enough to get to the ball. Observe how Y Singh can't seem to stop anything without ending up sliding along the ground, compare that to the English captain. Secondly, Ponting and co always (read always) come up with the ball in their dominant hand and fire in the throw (which hits the stumps more often than not). Y Singh parries the ball much like a goalkeeper, so the batsmen end up getting the single anyway. Runs saved? Zero. The fact that he lets loose a vicious throw (which never hits) even if the batsman is past the crease and about to the face the next ball is an aside and just an irritating Indian habit.

Bottomline, we have no exceptional fielders, barring Agarkar, who , I think is the best Indian outfielder of all time (sounds surprising doesn't it, considering the firm of RS/SG haven't said so!). But a disregard for fielding as a discipline at the grassroots is what results in the likes of Munaf wandering cluelessly about the outfield and the team being embarrassed time and time again.

England, the team that traditionally made us look good in the shorter version, just upped the ante. A 5-2 English win would help Indian cricket more than a 4-3 Indian win. Time to wake up and smell the grass-stained trousers.

deltoids: deploy

Set piece: A somber room, in twilight glow, save for the center, which is brightly lit with a battery of powerful lights focusing directly beneath them. And there, you lie, anesthetized by the sleep-inducing chemicals entering your blood stream. Blissfully unaware of the millions of nerve endings screaming to those parts of your brain that can decipher the well-being of the body it resides in, that all's not well. The individuals grouped around you have to make the decision as to whether the mass of sinew, bone and blood vessels that form your left arm (A) should be salvaged or (B) has to be amputated. The last thing you did before going under was to pick the team that huddles around you...

Team #1: A handpicked team comprising of a couple of orthopaedic specialists, vascular surgeon, a neurosurgeon, a seasoned anesthetist, with the requisite support staff

Team #2 : A team put together by making random sweeps of different areas of the city, taking care to represent all sections of society, professions, races, religions and so on and so forth

Now, what if you didn't have that choice? That the decision was based on the following reasoning:

• You are a successful white-collar professional who makes several multiples of your country's per capita, hell, maybe even more than that of the most developed countries in the world
• Yours is not a physical profession (e.g construction labor) plus you're right-handed, so its not your dominant arm anyway
• (A) (refer above) means you recover in 10 weeks and go back to your life, possibly rejuvenated and be more successful than ever
• (B)  would mean you would require a prosthetic which means a chance for the company that manufactures those to stay afloat, also for the farmers who supply the raw materials to avoid penury

Fiction, all of it, macabre albeit.

But then how is it, that when it comes to making decisions that sculpt laws, policies that govern intakes into institutions of learning, zoning regulations that determine setting up of commercial hubs, financial policy that oversees utilization of gargantuan amounts of money are based on the overarching principle of "Majority Wins!"? that saffron-painted thugs can go burning vehicles and demolishing property in the name of the 'common good'? Is the democratic way really about doing what's best or is it the blunt instrument of the teeming worthless hordes? Maybe its time for a rethink?

Technorati Tags: blah, life, opinion, rant

gamesmanship and happy returns

"I drive a porsche...what car do you drive?" <drumrolls...thunderclaps...sharp intakes of breath even!> How could he?! The horror of it all!!! ummm....what? Apparently this l'il line picked up by the stump microphone during he 2nd test at trent bridge is the subject of much teeth gnashing. The reason? It was said in a clipped brit accent to one of India's batsmen. As per Simon Barnes from The Times, this indicated the nadir of sportsmanship on the cricket field. He reckons "the combination of vulgarity and insensitivity is mind numbing"  because "is it a suitable remark to make to a man from a Third World nation who is a guest in your country?" He even goes on to call that hallmark of german engineering a "penis substitute"! 

In the process of getting his knickers in a twist, he seems to've forgotten that put together the match fees, board contract and the endorsement deals, the batsman in question would be making roughly about 5-10 times his english counterpart. More importantly, this insult would rank so low in the context of the typical sporting encounter, I think its entirely probable that the bloke was actually considering buying a Tata Indica and hence was comparing notes on mileage and maintenance. I guess when you make your living as a writer, you have to keep you 'molehill locator' on high alert all the time.

Broadcasters have taken to recording snippets of players introducing themselves rather than showing a graphic on screen. So, you have "Ian Bell...age 25...right hand bat" The 1st and 3rd bits of information, I have no problem with...I mean...wouldn't look good to announce someone else's name or to mislead ppl into thinking you're a left-arm chinaman bowler when you're not. Its that middle bit...I'd spent most of my cricket-watching 'career' seeing young 'uns my age play the sport...not any more seemingly...l'il squirts...all born y'day...or the day before...who the hell allowed them onto the ground...oh ok..i'll admit..am a year older...grrr...

Technorati Tags: life, blah, rant, sports

of frameworks and matrices

Unlimited expense accounts, first-class travel, 7-star accommodation, fortune 500 CEOs eating out of the palm of your hand...those are the images associated with the most sought after profession on any B-school campus. No wonder that most other career choices pale in comparison. Combine that with the exalted Day-Zero status...and you have a heady mix. Nay...this is not a rant against management consulting or even against the <insert day 0 firm here> of the world, but a different perspective...from that of a management consultant with a firm, the mention of which causes the listener's eyes to narrow as they do a mental search to make some kind of connection by way of reference but fail. Given the number of 'day in the life of' sessions conducted by the usual suspects and the fact that these guys are also the most articulate you're likely to ever come across, it'd be an achievement for any B-school grad to not know everything that happens between the moment the sharply dressed MC shrugs on his Savile Row jacket to the power handshake with the client CEO as he and his team marvel at the slick 'deck' you just presented.

So, what's the same profession like when shorn of its splendour? When you're rooming at hotel Staywell instead of 'The Oberoi'...ok I made the hotel up but you get the idea, when you have to convince your client that flying budget is just not the way to go and when you gotta stand in line to get into a beatup ol' black-and-yellow to get home after disembarking from that hard-earned 'full-service' flight?

Do-it-yourself : Small clients => smaller budgets => (much) lower billing rates => smaller teams. So, a lot of grunt work that might otherwise have been smoothly delegated to that lower life-form know as analysts, you do yourself. This includes calling your respondent group to setup appointments to preparing that industry pack for the first internal brainstorm session with your principal.

Primary Research travails : small firm => lean staffing => lots of pillar-to-post. When one of the 'key value propositions' of the firm is in-depth supplier/buyer behaviour by doing in-person research, means umpteen 1-2 day trips to random-ass cities with meetings lined up (by you). Am only guessing here, but an MC from a top-tier firm could possibly get away with a 'robust methodology' applied to a 'dipstick' survey

Unassigned? what's that? : You've huffed and puffed to send the report to the clients post the final meeting...with all those extras the client wanted (some that your client couldn't care less for but your boss wanted)..including that sensitivity analysis on the financial projections that took into account armageddon. You hit send and even before the length of your back comes in contact with the backrest of your chair, a principal strolls in saying "you're done with engagement xyz, right"...rhetorical question really...and you're off...to the kick-off meeting for the next project. And then your buddy from <insert day 0 firm here> calls and says how he's been home for the past week coz he's unassigned...you start fantasizing about that last scenario you modeled

High-profile PIA (pain-in-the-ass): When a habitual consumer of MC services (read any multinational or Indian company featuring on any forbes list), all hell breaks loose. The story usually is that the company isn't chuffed about their last encounter with <insert day 0 firm here> and hence is looking to 'de-risk'. What it actually means is to have your happiness sucked out of you for the duration of the engagement....with review meetings aplenty, you work and rework your deck till the project folder has more versions than windows has bug-fixes

But all said, you're still looking to answer questions that someone who runs a business has asked...and to see even a portion of your recommendations implemented is the high that makes most of the above worth it... of course, that doesn't mean I have anything against travelling first class :)

Technorati tags: work, consulting