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Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Why do we Love un-real Reality Shows?

Move over reality shows now we have reality nightmares. For instance we have screeching females in a graveyard bathed in a greenish hue (MTV, I got a fright today morning when some hyper woman was screaming “Ranvijay” in a early morning promotion)

We also have something called "Buddies"  where the same buddies are plotting with and against others on  how to win over females (Channel V) and “dates" out on with a gay specimen of a host (Again V)

Roadies were the tipping point in entertainment. Never before was profanity so fashionable, Raghuram and his bald pate, and the faulty beepers have made everyone aware of the 'chods" and all. Aggression became cool and profanity the evidence of attitude (I guess the intention is the "cool dude", one but I could never understand what a "dude" means ….enlighten anyone please!!)

Funnily as I rant on the depth of emotions and reality in these so called "reality shows”, I am looking forward to watching them too.

The advertised and exaggerated fallibility & weakness of participants..... gives me an inflated sense of understanding of my limited strengths.

As in Shakespeare we had Orlando who was weeping besides a river , “ Why do you weep here, the river already has so much water, a little more won’t make any difference(principle of diminishing marginal utility huh Shakespeare?!).

In the same vein......... weaknesses I have aplenty, I don’t want to be reminded of them, but it does no bad to be reminded of my strengths.

 I can relate a nice incident which happened over last week over a meal with a new acquaintance. That guy is currently lady hunting to start building his proverbial nest and he is a hot commodity in the marriage-place.25 it seems is the primary meetings he has had........ and the funnel rate is only 2.

He says, “ Rajan I believe the anatomically well proportioned female always prefers the not so ideal specimen of masculinity……….I  believe it is because it gives them an inflated sense of understanding of their virtues(real and perceived)!! , and also this is true the other way around( that was a wicked inference pal …very wicked..good luck with the other 2 will need it seems ! )

 It is the same thought that has propelled Rakhi Sawant has the queen of reality shows and Raghuram to run roadies for seven seasons, and Ranvijay to launch a girl’s night out a.k.a phategi

In JWT terms, the discovery that propelled launch of reality shows and ensured their success could be summarized as “Humans have always found it easy to bond over grief and that is weird. Grief and sadness are the glue to friendship or for that matter relationships.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Hungry Kya ?? Always Look before You Eat !!!

Weekends, if some poor unsuspecting soul does not invite me for dinner/lunch I normally survive on a diet of fruit juice and bread. Well, this Sunday was one such day, where hospitality was not quite forthcoming, but laziness was at its peak. Having been through a human Laundromat, my metabolism was doing overtime

It is difficult to sleep on a hungry stomach even if you are bone tired. I gorged on bread , some tomatoes and other form of edible grass , till I experienced a feeling of fullness.

 Crash..................! Sleep came on to me the high to a drunkard who has had experienced a change from Pineapple adha(quarter) to neat Vodka.

A couple of hours later, the incessant hoot of a express train across the track awakes me up. The first thing I realize is a full bladder

As I finish irrigation......... hunger strikes with a vengeance.

Walking down, I see a makeshift box, manned by a lady. I walk across, and sniff the unmistakable smell of frying potatoes and surprisingly the smell of freshly brewed tea. Some laborers are enjoying their break with chai sutta.

“Do I ..or do I not eat” is the question ? Admittedly, I could digest anything from anywhere, but this seemed to be pushing the limits. Additionally there was a stark difference in the crowd there and me, physically as well as otherwise.

Hunger reigned supreme, as always!!

I approached the lady, and asked in Tamil what is available.

White rice and vegetables……. poori and vegetables.

" I will start with poori " I said.

She plunks a steel plate into a bucket of water, making me wonder if it was better off before. Stone cold pooris are plunked on the plate which has some traces of bubbles, brown and blue. A mish mash of vegetable curry is plunked on top (Separate vessels be dammed!)

" Not hot? " , I asked.

 The lady stared as if it was the ultimate sin. Her eyes seemed to be saying, isn’t it enough for you to have food, you want fancy as well?

Mollified, I ate the pooris, thankfully the cold pooris were just two in number, before she ran out of them.

Rice? She bawled seeing my empty plate.

It was not really great, but then it wasn’t too bad either. And if it were dirty, I would fall sick even with the rice on top...a couple of thousand bacteria more would not really make much difference for I guess it takes just one to mess up !!

Sure...and in went the rice.

However , I started receiving a lot of curious and hostile stares from the onlookers. The security guard of the adjacent huge office complex was also eating and he was giving me the most dangerous look.

I gave him a smile and shrug, trying to imply that I was famished and not in moods to travel...but he continued gazing.

It was making me feel uncomfortable...I gulped down the rice and asked for some tea.

I was served some in the plastic cup, which houses just about a mouthful. I asked to be served in another bigger glass and I guess it was the wrong thing.

“This is the only glass, have it or leave it”, came the growl from the lady.

It seemed like the last straw.....for the guard kept his plate down and walked towards me.

“This is not your place , why do you want to come and ridicule us by your antics. Please leave right now”

Hoooha.... !!

There is a hierarchy, whether you like it............ understand it........ or not you have to …….respect it.

I have no qualms in eating in that place, but my mere presence there seemed to have rubbed the wrong way to them.My insistence on some basic prerequisites had given the impression that I was making fun of them as it was kind of luxury for them.

There was no point reasoning with them, so I just paid some change and walked away.

So next time you feel hungry ....dont just eat...!!

For the plate in which you are served matters...a others if not to you...and you got to respect that :)

Friday, October 22, 2010

It Could Happen to You !

1.       Nighttime ......... location.......... Doddenakudi village, Bangalore

2.       Status – Tired, hungry and penniless (only electronic money available)

3.       Environmental condition/resources at disposal – Balmy weather, just a hint short of chilly, all restaurants closed, even hole in the walls, no transportation excepting 11 number bus(for the uninformed it refers to walking)

It is difficult to sleep on a queasy feeling in your tummy, particularly when you believed you have earned the right to un-quease it. I knew a Domino was somewhere close to the Marathalli bridge and decided to trudge along to it.

In enter...... the dregs of society, the riff raffs and all........gaunt...........skeletal...........bearded and stinking...........alternatively of sweat, and booze.

With the laptop slung across my shoulder and in Friday casuals I was a sure shot picture of a techie, often confused for the financially well endowed.

One glance at the three told me this is going to be ....easy.... !!

I am no Dharmendra, but they were all puny, and under water at various levels.

A shove by the most inebriated. It was hard and I fell down.........heavily on the bag.

Another one aimed his feet at my face but missed. The third however landed one nicely on my back, and it was some pointed shoes this one was wearing so it hurt. Meanwhile the first picked up a stone and was making a swing.

In this mess the laptop bag had split open from the front, which is a very rare thing. A hint of metal caught my eyes from the tumbling baggage and I ....................for a moment froze.

It was my Ram constant companion of the lost years............... it was a Punch.

I had found it tucked away in some remote corner of my cupboard, in Delhi and I had just put it in my bag and promptly ............forgot about it.

I slipped it into my fingers. Its cold feel reminded me of the countless warm liquids that it once used to see. I made an uppercut motion towards one face and stopped midway.

Never use a punch on a face …makes it too messy and too identifiable.

I delivered one with full force on his upper arm; it nicked some of the skin away. The guy howled and started of some kanaada words.

A razor sharp pain course from the back of my leg it was a short knife, like the pen knife , but very pointy, the back of my leg started feeling very warm and I knew the cut was deep.

A brawl, followed as the animal brain took over the rational one. I just forgot about all the pain in my back...........the hunger in my stomach ..............and the tiredness in my body.

A punch in one and the other bare knuckled, I started wild swings. Two of them went down, thanks to two blows at the leg and the arm and one for good luck in their guts.

The third one was slightly nonplussed by this; after all it was sheer numbers, one against three.

I stared at him, with no expression and then motioned him to go away. He hesitated and then walked off, that what the drink does, it shows who you really are, and he was a coward.

The other 2 were whimpering, I picked up my bag, transferred the spilt contents to the center slot of my bag and surveyed the damage.

A deep cut on my lower leg.............. a developing bruise on my back........... and small cut on my butt. Thankfully it was all internal external visible damages.

To eat ………..or to trudge back………… clean and sleep?

The smell of baking cheese reined powerful than the smell of dripping blood. Dusting myself, I cleaned the cuts with some water from my bottle. Twenty minutes later, a vegetable extravaganza inside it was dawning on; the pain was coming back with a vengeance. I needed a drink to numb it, but then I could not touch alcohol.

I walked out, and paid 250 bucks for a 30 minute ride in an auto.

A warm bath, and two Flexons later, I hibernated…….

Come morning I thought about the night.

You are walking towards a hotel hungry and tired and someone kicks you in the shin…could it happen to you??

It could happen to you!

Thursday, October 14, 2010

It is a Commodity ...Everything

In recent times I have noticed something strange, and I am sure many of you would be concurring as well.

Everything is becoming commodity, even intangibles like services.

Let me start with education, a bachelor’s degree these days is akin to high school. It really does not add any value, in terms of work or growth. I would say that as a graduate I would not have hired myself, into any work/organization. The basic skills, are lacking, and today I saw the same with a new with a new recruit I had to spend some time with.

Disheartenment and disillusionment are the first things I notice in someone fresh out of college. I would say less than 1 % of your technical knowledge is actually used in engineering setups, at least in manufacturing and production, electronics I am told is different, at least ST Microelectronics work needs some good knowledge of chip design.

For instance, piping needs you to be just a good visualizer, and some common sense as to how you can or cannot put a pipe. Materials, operations and inventory, are all to do with people handling (I can hear the SCM team across, shouting some choice words, typical)

Enter post graduation, most opt for business, with only a few going more technical. It is normally perceived that a business education open a lot of doors (Banks, and more banks!!).

But unfortunately, post graduation is also passé, as banks have shifted from their basic function. The traditional source of revenue for a bank, is borrow low lend high, and make money on the differential(credit).

Alas, now most banks are resorting to quickie profits on the stock market, I heard most of the foreign banks major chunk of profits comes from, well some form of trading.

So when you enter the market, there is a lot of data, and of course lots of whiz kids with advanced degrees in mathematics, who are trying to automate everything, even arbitrage opportunities.For instance consider algorithmic trading - a nice description I read for it somewhere is that it is the same, as cooking an exotic dish but with the chef as a Robot, everything is technically correct, but the taste isn’t there.

But obviously there is a limit to automation, all fancy terms and ratios can be generated but you need someone to physically do that, so in enter analysts.

No names, but some people working as analysts have resorted to counting the number of hits of ctrl+c, and ctrl+v, in their present work, 600, is what I am told is the average daily count for these two functions.

Ye Ignoramus...................... if it is stock market for business......... it have to be Wall Street, and........... if it has to be Wall Street it has to be ………..more malai on the milk.

And now comes the malai……… CFA, FRM, GARCH.

My acquaintances pursuing these courses say that most of the knowledge or learning is the same, it is just a rehash for someone who has done masters in finance, but all the same you have to do it. Because when you meet a potential client it would look good if you have a Mr. X - B.Tech, MBA, CFA, FRM ...ding and dong.

From a service providers viewpoint the differentiation is additional degrees on its human resources……… and now look at most of the banks…. they have the same engineers, same MBAs, and now the same CFAs and FRMs.

So, now a service also has been commoditized. What next…? Where is the differentiation?

Answer – People……..and relationships!!

Monday, October 11, 2010

Seduction , Romance and the Madrasi !

Some forwards are really great !! This is one such :) , 

It talks about the relatively low success rate of south Indian men , in the art of wooing or seduction and finds rather an earth shattering reason for it !! 

" I have gathered many insights into the endless monotony that is the love life of south Indian men. What I have unearthed is most disheartening.

Disheartening because comprehension of these truths will not change our status anytime soon. However there is also cause for joy. We never stood a chance anyway. 

What loads the dice against virile, gallant, well educated, good looking, and good living, sincere mallus and tams? (Kandus were once among us, but Bangalore has changed all that.)

Our futures are shot to hell as soon as our parents bestow upon us names that are anything but alluring. I cannot imagine a more foolproof way of making sure the child remains single till classified advertisements or that maternal uncle in San Francisco thinks otherwise. 

Name him "Parthasarathy Venkatachalapthy" and his inherent capability to combat celibacy is obliterated before he could even talk.
He will grow to be known as Partha. Before he knows, his smart, seductively named northy classmates start calling him Paratha. No woman in their right minds will go anyway near poor Parthasarathy. His investment banking job doesn't help either. His employer loves him though. He has no personal life you see. 

By this time the Sanjay Singhs and Vishal Bhattis from his class have small businesses of their own and spend 60% of their lives in discos and pubs, full of leisure. The remaining 40% is spent lip locking and dindonging with leather and denim clad muses in their penthouse flats on Nepean Sea Road . 

Business is safely in the hands of the Mallu manager.

After all with a name like Blossom Babykutty he cant use his 300000 salary anywhere. Blossom gave up on society when in school they automatically enrolled him for Cookery Classes. Along with all the girls.

Yes my dear reader, nomenclature is the first nail in a coffin of neglect and hormonal pandemonium. In a kinder world they would just name the poor southern male child and throw him off the balcony. "Yes appa we have named him Goundamani..." THUD. Life would have been less kinder to him anyway.

Of course the south Indian women have no such issues. They have names which are like sweet poetry to the ravenous northie hormone tanks. Picture this:

"Welcome, and this is my family. This is my daughter Kanchana (exotic!!) and my son Ponnalagusamy (er.. hello..).." Cyanide would not be fast enough for poor Samy. Nothing Samy does will help him. He can pump iron, drive fast cars and wear snazzy clothes, but against a braindead dude called Rudra Pratap Singh  he has as much chance of getting any as a Benedictine Monk in a Saharan Seminary.

Couple this with the other failures that have plagued our existence. Any attempt at spiking hair with gel fails miserably. In an hour I have a crown of greasy, smelly fibrous mush. My night ends there. 

However the northy just has to scream "Wakaw!!!" and you have to peel the women off him to let him breathe. In a disco while we can manage the medium hip shake with neck curls, once the Bhangra starts pumping we are as fluid as cement and gravel in a mixer. 

The women love a man who digs pasta and fondue. But why do they not see the simple pleasures of curd rice and coconut chutney? When poor Senthilnathan opens his tiffin box in the office lunch room his female coworkers just disappear when they see the tamarind rice and poppadums. The have all rematerialized around Vishal Bhatti who has ordered in Pizza and Garlic bread. (And they have the gall to talk of foreign origin.)

Sociologically too the tam or mallu man is severely sidelined. An average tam stud stays in a house with,  three grandparents, three sets of uncles and aunts, and over 10 children. Not the ideal atmosphere for some intimacy and some full throated "WHOSE YOUR DADDY!!!" at the 3 in the morning. The mallu guy of course is almost always in the gulf working alone on some onshore oil rig in the desert.

Alas dear friends we are not just meant to set the nights on fire. We are just not built to be "The Ladies Man". The black man has hip hop, the white man has rock, the southie guy only has idlis and tomato rasam or an NRI account in South Indian Bank, Ernakulam Branch. 

Alas as our destiny was determined in one fell swoop by our nomenclature, so will our future be. A nice arranged little love story. But the agony of course does not end there. On the first night, as the stud sits on his bed finally within touching distance and whispers his sweet desires into her delectable ear, she blushes, turns around and whispers back "But amma has said only on second Saturdays..." "

Disclaimer - This is copy/paste( not strictly.........rather it is incremental innovation !)......But a good read :)

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Food for Thought

First weekend in Bangalore, after a lost week and a weekend of rather, futile house hunting. I temporarily resigned myself to a hostel like existence for some time to come, and wait till about Dipavali. I am tired of looking at matchboxes for houses and eager agents ready to palm off any place as just 10 minutes from KR Puram.

Weekends, it seems are worse than weekdays in Bangalore for traffic, the same cars packed one after the other, with the only difference being in the clothing of its inhabitant(s).The blue shirt , black pant combo is replaced by a jean, a glare and fancy trophy wife with a cutie kid to complete the picture. I spent 2.5 hrs navigating an 8 km trip. Finally, fed up of seating on my butt I decided to make use of the portion below it, so I got down and walked for about 30 minutes. The weather is good so no major deal and I am glad I can still pull off such walkathons.

Enter evening, met D at his place which is kind of accessible from my remote inhabitant. After a week of survival on fruit juice, bread and jowar rotis, I wanted some fiery flavor on my palette or rather some junk in my system. Pizza Hut, was zeroed on and as usual I was hungry, my hunger much fueled by the 30 minute walk.

"A mushroom soup, a palette of garlic bread with cheese, one serving of cheese tortillas and a fresh garden salad ",  I said without glancing at the menu.

D what about you??

D was still lost in the menu, अब्बे क्या कन्या की तरह घूर रहे हो , double कर दू क्या यही आर्डर ?

" Who else is joining us? ," D looked up briefly from the menu.

No it’s just us; it was not one of my crowd days.

" You ordered all that just for you?!!! " D asked with just a tad bit of surprise. Having been in consulting for a long time, nothing really surprised him anymore. He once told me, that consultants become so hardened, so slick in their appearances and acts, that they could murder someone in cold blood early morning and carry on with their routine work without a hair out of place, and come back and sleep as though nothing happened.

" Yea..... I am hungry, ….you can taste too… " , I added a little mollified, " Of course we will share the pizza it is more value if we order a large one than 2 small ones".

साले इसके बाद पिज्जा भी खायेगा  ?? ,  queried D , with the curvature of his eyebrows increasing slightly.

This conversation was making me hungrier, I nodded to the waiter, " Just get a tomato soup for him, I will order later"

" This salad is good, something nice for grass eaters like us" ,  said D.

He made way for some of the tortillas, and after a bite, and gulp looked at me with a distraught expression.

क्या हुआ खाने मैं कुछ गड़बड़ है क्या ?? ", having paid a bundle for something available just across the road for a fraction, I expected quality if not anything else.

" No man, it is navratri and we are eating onion "


At my place, only Amma did her ritual 9 day fast and all. I however could not eat food without the pungency of onion or garlic, having been bought up on a diet of roadside hole in walls, in UP and Delhi

" Hey, you know the rational behind avoiding onion??,  It is just that anything that did not smell good was not considered bad for health, but onion is actually good"

No it is not that, it something more, said D now munching contentedly through the remaining tortilla. He seemed to be deciding that after a sin committed there is no turning back, now you got to do justice to the sin.

His subsequent explanation was very enlightening much like a myth, so here it goes.

Hindu Dharma divides food consumables into three categories

1. Satvic – peace, calm inducing

Any food item that is easily grown, and regionally common. It is cooked without oil or spice but with sparing amounts of gee and salt, eaten sparingly. Such food is said to induce calm, peace in mind. Rice, basic dhal, lentils, region specific vegetables

Discovery - My, entire gang of roommates used to hibernate after a healthy dose of my culinary favorite of Pongal !

2. Rajhsi – Ambition, ego boosting, satisfying

Exotics like milk, khoya, dry fruits, and difficult to grow and procure food items. These are cooked, in lavish dose of butter, ghee(no oil) spices and eaten lavishly as well.The spices are generally exotics like kesar,cardamom, which do not induce any burning sensation,post consumption. They are said to fuel a sense of ambition, well being, growth and ego in an individual.

Discovery -  Two back to back helping of Bourneville I did experience a sense of well being unlike contentment and very unlike the advertisements that show “Lost in ecstasy kind of morons” !

 3. Tamsic – Greed, envy, and anger boosting

These include items such as onion, garlic, non vegetarian items and (some other which I forgot!!), cooked in oil(no ghee) with a mish mash of spices, that cause subsequent burning sensation.These, fuel a sense of greed, hate, and envy in an individual.

 Discovery - Not sure if the subsequent burning sensation, after pyaaz parathas was due to acidity , or envy ;)

The tortilla was now done as well as the salad, with garlic bread on its way to extinction as well.

" So, now we are having Rajhsi and Tamsic materials. In the worst case scenario, you would be ambitious in addition to being envious of someone hence would show anger towards him, and maybe snuff him out; " , I said mimicking my finger at the neck for more clarity.

"Nopes, I would cool off your system, post this with a meetha paan, with extra gulkhand to sweeten your mind" ,  he said as he finished the last of his garlic bread, "Our Dharma gives a lot of loopholes to exploit",  he said adding with a smile. In a flash, I remembered the pile of books on his desk, and realized that this was not a leg pulling session at all.

 PS- We did order Pizza which I ended up finishing, and true to his word the paan was awesome, it melted in my mouth at the counter itself so I had a second one. And, a 30 minute walkathon session later, hunger as well as this gyaan emerge simultaneously( Fruit Juice ...where are you my dear !!)

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Secret of the ZhooZhoos

This one,  is a piece I did for Vodafone, in one of their promos(Social Media), the time when IPL and ZhooZhoos were in rage. Just added one last corollary , a rather wicked one !!

Once upon a time there was a kingdom of Zululand in one if the many far off places. The inhabitants of Zululand - Zhozhoos, were small curvy people but the curves were kind of wrongly formed according to prevalent perceptions of beauty (not necessarily synonymous with cute !) 

As is with such places there was a king and some people carrying off their happy existence. But wait there is a twist .The king of Zululand was not happy. Days passed, and after a lot of rather futile attempts by the Zhoozhoos the king continued to sulk.

Now this presented a problem to the native Zhozhoos who are by nature very happy people. The wise Zhozhoos met together and decided to explore one of the many far off lands in search of a cure to help their king. In one of their excursions they stumbled to a place which we commonly refer to as India. 

When they landed they came across another funny creature with four legs, a flat squashed face, a stub of a tails and a pink tongue continuously lolling out. It was continuously following a small boy. Up they went in a swing, a cave, a house but the creature kept following with its stub of a pink tongue hanging around. Interestingly, the boy tried his best to shoo away the creature, but it kept following under the name of something called the “network”

Eureka! , said the smart Zhozhoos. We take the pink tongued creature with us to make our king happy. The smart ones were right indeed, the king took the creature in, it followed him everywhere and the king loved it. Everybody was happy with this.

Wait, everybody??

Nopes back in India there was a flurry on the disappearance of the creature. In particular a certain hot shot guy (boss) was shouting at his smart new manager (no prizes for guessing the B-School!) to find his network or face the music. The manager managed to zero on to Zululand (thanks to Google) and off they both went to find their “network”

The boss landed in Zululand, and said to the king” You have my network, give it back to me this instant.” The king didn’t like the look of the man and shook his head. 

The boss shouted, the creature barked and the king became angry .It looked...... like war!

In steps the manager with a beatific smile on his face and says “ Sir, we don’t need the network , no more” 

What do you mean asked the boss rather irritated, the smart guy said , “ we can give these people network and take them along with us, this way we can get VAS”

The boss looked up. His eyes moved from the manager, to the king and landed on the “network”. Then, something clicked!

The rest as they say is history. The boss (Vodafone, in case you haven’t guessed it!!) got his VAS and the king got his network.

But now the ZhooZhoos wanted more, much much more than the IPL, but when offered the CWG, they said

हमारा भी ............कोई सम्मान है ...इज्ज़त है ....घराना है!!

Wednesday, October 6, 2010


This is a myth, retold !

Our very own playboy, Lord Krishna (LK) had a nice friend by the name of Sudama. But as we all know, LK was the boss, and as happens in most cases the boss climbs up, or rather moves to greener pastures( definite pun intended !), and friends are kind of forgotten.

Now, Sudama bumps into LK during some gathering and LK apologizes profusely for his misconduct and laziness in maintaining contact.

Since LK is a god, he decides to make up for his high handedness, by offering his friend a boon.

The poor village boy Sudama, in all his simplicity, steeped in tradition says” Oh lord, grant me that I am in never in want of food or water”.

So be it!! Or rather तथास्तु :)

Now there is a catch, there always is. (Read on गुरुदेव .... read on…)

This Sudama was once traveling through a desert, (yeah food and water are scarce!), and suddenly feels thirsty. Some neuron on his head fires up, and he remembers his boon from LK. No sooner the thought crossed his mind; he could discern a camel with a rider somewhere in his line of sight, closing the gap very quickly.

A Bishnoi tribesman, (not sure if that’s the correct tribe), dressed in traditional splendor waves out to him and gets off the camel.

Both exchange stares……..some friendly……….. some steely....but both curious

The tribesman, seeing Sudama’s parched, dry face and frugal outlook and offers him some dates and water.

But Sudama, with his choti is a Brahmin, how could he have it from a person of an inferior tribe??

No, No, there has to be a mistake I am sure LK would have not intended this, this is just some coincidence, thinks Sudama.

He shakes his head in negative, the tribesman presses again and again but Sudama is adamant in his refusal (remember he is steeped in tradition).

Suddenly ……the camel, the pitcher of water, and the tribesman vanish.

Sudama realizes that this was a the real thing and he cries out” Oh lord, what is this happening”

In enter, LK.......... instant appearance.

Sudama, “Oh lord that was a difficult test you put me through, you know I am a Brahmin and the are some dos and don’ts for me”

LK says,” I thought you were a wise man, Sudama. You wished there be no wanting of food and water ever in your life, so I persuaded Lord Brahma (LB) to give you the elixir, of life – Amrit.LB was reluctant to offer this gift to a mortal but I told you were a good man……. a wise man. He agreed but he wanted to test your wisdom, and so he came in the form of a tribesman”

“Alas my dear friend, you failed. Your understanding of the scriptures is shallow and superficial. You misunderstood the boon you asked me”.

Sudama sat dazed, kind of realizing his folly.

LK looks at him pityingly and then vanishes.

Sudama trudges on, hungry, thirsty …but just about a tad bit wiser.

It is often said that everybody ends up with what (and sometimes better) they want in life.

However it is not in the way they want it. As in the above case our dear own Sudama got what he wanted or rather better than what he wanted, however he was not wise or capable enough to spot the way it came to him.

For anything, that is bestowed upon, too soon or too late, causes disaster………. and success, fame and money(not necessarily in that order)… too soon or too late…… are the biggest reasons for disaster in life.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Good for you Sirjee !!

Sir finally got it!!

One of the few great people, I met at B-school met salvation at last. It is uncanny as to how he landed up in a profile that was almost tailor made for his likes and skills.

I had a chance call with him while updating about my status at Bangalore and his happiness was contagious. For a minute I shelved under the rug (or rather beside the railway track, which incidentally is near my place!!), all my worries and immediate concerns.

Happiness is indeed best when shared, (Christopher Mc Candlass), and a corollary to it, sorrow/pain is a solitary activity.

Now, a little about this guy, an absolute genius. He however ended up in a place that did not quite do justice to his intelligence, or to use modern colloquialism a shit hole, shoveling shit.

He says, “I had almost resigned myself to this place, and then I saw you fighting to get out, and I thought why not I too try it, and see now ended up with more than offer, and all are better than this one, I kind of owe it to you pal"

I said, so you are also a little mad now huh !!

"Not mad, but rather I am not ready to compromise at least on the work part of my life"

Good for you sirjee !

It pays to fight, for the reward is unique each time. Familiarity breeds comfort and that in turn gives rise to complacency, which in turn gives an impetus to inherent laziness in every one.

I have heard a lot about my antics""You are 25, how long will you skip jobs, remember a rolling stone gathers no moss, it is time you start planning ahead”

Career planning is an oxymoron; best things in life are a function of serendipity. 

Now I am not implying that you spend life like Ivan the lazy, sitting wide open mouthed under a cherry tree waiting for the cherry to fall in your mouth. Rather I am just saying that opportunities, by definition are un-modeled, they just arise as a complex function of life, surroundings and friends.

It is useful to have a general idea of what you end up doing but do not end up in a iron straight jacket, or rather with an ostrich mentality with head inside the ground as a fantasy to not see the imminent attack, or an opportunity.

 I have never ever compromised on my liking, I tried once and it just did not work out. Money is a statistic, with a very low diminishing marginal utility, function. Out of 24 hrs in .a day( I am not taking into account the leap year part of it), close to 70% you end up doing something to fulfill your cardinal desires. If you don’t like it, then it is akin to murdering your soul, your existence.

There are so many compromises we end up making, but compromising, 70% of your life, well statistically significant isn’t it?

I believed I could find solace in splurging, but that did not work. In fact, I felt even shittier.

Murder my soul to earn money and try to spend it to compensate for murder, ahhh...that is like a gang rape on your existence, post death( necrophilia, argh, what a morbid thought indeed)

You can see those people who have done that for a long time, you can see it in their shoulders, and more importantly their eyes, the resigned acceptance of futility of existence. (Btw Bangalore is full of them!!)

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Banglore Times!

This city is weird , it seems like people from all across India are here.You cant spot on person and say bang on................... that this guy is a local...............he is the Bangalorean equivalent of the Marathi manoos.

You would have trouble doing that.

Some things that strikes you the minute you enter in Bangalore

  1. Volvo Buses - Red/blue, shiny and expensive( the maximum ticket fare I paid was 50 for a one way 40 minute trip) , but leisurely
  2. Advertisements Galore - sample"PG available , 24 hrs uninterrupted supply of water, electricity broadband..blah blah blah..."( who needs 24 hrs of all that ??! a couple of hours would be fine, I guess !!) - A note most of them are matchboxes some small some big, but matchboxes essentially ,  a hazard to good living.
  3. Auto Guys = Linguists , they can talk in any language, Hindi, English Tamil , in fact one guy told me that if they did not do that they would lose customers.
  4. Shave Puri & Chow Chow Bath - I haven't mustered the courage to try either of them
  5. Dug roads and half completed BMTC pillars - I just mentioned it because it is one factor akin to Delhi
  6. Traffic Jams are passe, here there are traffic nightmares, my boss in fact warned me to not get a place far off from the unit.
  7. There are 2 Bangalore's , ( Yeah the adaption of the binary dissection of India , as in 2 India's)