Zindagi Rocks !!!!

Movie Review Traffic !!!

2011-02-20T04:50:00.000-08:00

The thought about what has to be written has always haunted me. To write about ones own experience is kind of an easy deal. Could be done by anyone, any TDH. But then can everyone be Rushdie, or a Paulo Coelho, impossible. So let's give imagination a break and try writing.

Malayalam movie industry has always produced, inspiring movies. With directors like Padmarajan, Adoor Gopalakrishnan and writers like M.T.Vasudevan Nair who could sketch the scenic beauty of Kerala the way it is on to the screen, most of us "Mals" have a different outlook towards movies. Anyways the decision to watch the movie Traffic was not a bad one, in fact after two hours of nail biting excitement, it's a rare feel, "Proud to be a Mallu feel".

One thing that I need to write about before commenting on the movie is about the crowd I happened to see at the theater. I was around groups of men within age groups of 23 -30 and swear to god all of them were desperate. Their stares and expressions at Punjabi women walking into the next screen where "Patiala house" was been screened, was just not acceptable. Most of them where not even thinking twice while they had to readjust their spheres of reproduction, they could do it without any shame in public. Most of the women who walked in had curly hair, strangulated by clips in different shapes and sizes. The colors and cuts of their salwars will suddenly take you to the mystical land of Kathakali. If there was one feature that united most of us, it was the great Indian tummy and am sure no group would even be a close second to my Kwan. Any ways with guys wearing monkey caps, dangling crosses just an inch smaller than on the one which Christ was crucified on, it was an exhibition of fashion disasters.

Walking into the movie theater, the expectations were high as the cast involved one of the most renowned film figures in Malayalam movie industry "Sreenivasan". The plot must be familiar to anyone who's a Hollywood movie buff (Vantage point), but that does not put the movie down, it's not the very old Priyadarshan attempt to copy Hollywood thrillers. Rajesh Pillai, has done exceptionally well in narrating a story with such pace that it's never expected in our movie fraternity. The film start's on a lighter mode and then offers a wide array of twists and turns. The director is successful in taking digs at the current political setup, the busy lifestyles of public figures etc. The best part of the movie is the way in which, the characters are bound to the one accident that changes their lives. There isn't even a reel of film wasted on a character that's not required or a dialogue not needed. No item songs, no unwanted emotional outbursts or scenes that are cliches in most of the movies. The movie is a thriller, keeps you at the edge of your seat, as if you are the one traveling along with the central character through the Kochi - Palakkad highway. And that's the reason behind the sheer success of the movie. Traffic is a must watch and am sure it sets a benchmark for tons of movies that's gonna come by in this decade. I hope it get's dubbed into other languages and the stain caused by Shakeela and company get's wiped out !!!!!

Valentines is back !!!!!

2011-02-12T08:11:00.000-08:00

Another Valentines day, day of love, a day on which men realize the existence of balls and go down on their knees, women turn receptive for a change . Overall a day quoted in pink, with teddy bears spitting out chocolate fragrance, streets filled with balloons and hearts a day filled with love . The day brings to all of us college days, school days and a lot of memories. Mostly the flavors of affairs you'd had, the spicy Punjabi affair, the tangy tamilian one, the erotic Bengali one, all the women walk through as if it just went by.

The headlines of the next two days will be filled with saffron clad goons harassing kids in parks and beaches. With an already suffocated, wannabe society trying to break free, barricades set in the form of a great culture, heritage does not win a lot of hearts, but still our media will cover it with full enthusiasm. The mela of love has begun, and am sure love is in the air. But being retrospective, these days are required, whatever you name it, however you perceive it they are a must.

Cause these days create memories of all flavors, sweet, sour and when you look back that's the only wealth you've amassed. The memories of the first kiss, the blood rush to the ears when her breath was so close that you could smell her soul, the taste of tears when she walks off through the stairs of that unfinished concrete building. The moments of anguish in front of the head masters room, after she complained about the proposal and ate the chocolates you'd gifted. Reading the greeting cards under the mango tree at the backyard of the school, shoving it up the underwear when someone shows up.

With Face book, Orkut and the idea of being connected always taking the fun out the very concept of love. I hope the kids get to know the fun of thinking about dear ones, the fun of yapping away deeds of a complete vacation, the sheer thrill of meeting her at temple and passing it in front of her family as if it was never intended, there's so much Valentines day has lost in this connected world. To the beauty I fell for at seventh standard and the one who took away my heart during the first years of work, to the lady who made me realize that love doesn't liberate happy valentines day !!!!!

Alcoholism and God's Own Counrty !!!!!!

2011-02-11T00:00:00.000-08:00

Alcoholism, a topic tightly linked with every malayali on this earth. With statistics backing up the fact that people from the gods own country are the most notorious drunkards, I just want to take a trip down the memory lane. Alcohol, has taken huge toll in m life and have seen people perish through the road taken.

Sunil Uncle, used to be my childhood hero. Wearing a gold tinted ray ban goggle, riding a Bajaj Chetak, around 5 feet 10 inches in height he was my style icon. A shirt button always flipped open and a gold chain dangling down the hairy chest, women used to go ga-ga for him. Drinking was a weekly ritual for him, I would see his wife bitching to my mom on how these parties ruined the only day they could spend together. While cooking dinner, conversations on how he has changed during the course of three years, accompanied by tears adding salt to the curries, seemed to me as episodes of the same serial.

They drank in the main hall and the drinking session called for a lot of requirements, like peanuts, cigarettes etc. I would be called in every 30 minutes and I could break free from home work and importantly from my mom who dictates lessons to me holding deadly kitchen equipments. Though the initial trips of errands would not help, the last ones will bring in some monetary value, Well who would mind paying back a bunch of drunk morons :). Sunil uncle would sing hit Malayalam songs, rushing into the kitchen, he will snatch the knife from my mom and help out in cutting veggies. He would pull his wife close to him and act out tangy love, sometimes would mix well like orange juice and vodka, mostly a wannabe attempt for new cocktail, fails terribly.

At 12:00 in the night, they would get to the neighbor, kick him out of the bed and talk to him, while his half asleep kid hides behind the legendary lungi.I always made a fortune out of selling the accumulated bottles over a span of three months. Alcoholism was no taboo for me, I was getting benefited. Mom never wept, might be she did it within, she had this frozen reactions to the drunk acts of my dad and his friends, as if she had a resolve within not to fight this battle which she could never win. Frequency of drinking, increased to twice, thrice a week. Mornings would be filled with mom fixing up patches on Dad, souvenirs of drunken nights almost made him a legend in his early thirties.

One of the major issues that I saw while the fabric of the family was getting soaked in rum, was the fact that no one listened to Dad. His parents, friends, shopkeepers everyone wanted my mom to take the responsibility, though it was clear that money poured in from dad's pocket. People tend to loose credibility, after a stint with alcohol, the society just gives them a deaf ear. With my mom at the helm of affairs and she bringing in money through some life insurance policy business, ego might have started kicking in. The inevitable happened and the family crashed.

Sunil uncle stopped drinking in glasses, the bottle started gulping him down. Died in a bike accident, with his head opened like a crabs shell. Leaving behind, a six year old son, a beautiful wife ,a stench of vomit and a never ending hangover. Dad still drinks, rather that's what he does. Alienated from the society, from the crowd he pops up at family functions and throws in cash to prove his point, for him to be heard. The scent of hundred rupee notes get's submerged under the stench of alcohol. With all that he had done, alcoholism has created a stain, a shadow on his very existence.

Late night visits of him to the school was scary. Seeing him stooping on to his drunk friends, with a packet of chocolates or some random gifts, I will have the hostel warden breathing fire through my neck, as if I sponsored the party. De addiction centers across Kerala and Tamilnadu, could only hold him back for 60-90 days and he would always be back, back with a bang. Every day, after the De addiction center visits, I would wait for the real Dad to resurface, the wait is grueling, killing. My friends would bet on his come back every Friday and wait at my home. As the clock moves past nine, a smirk cracks up their face. As the light flashes,I would run to the gate and grab the suitcase, trying to sniff out and see if he is still raw. I would have a winners smile, when he didn't smell of Old cask and my friends say the smile is always brighter than the flash light.

Anyways, I saw marriages crash, livelihoods perish. Drinking always had reasons, either it was happiness or something sad. It would be loaded with explanations, about friends who are compelling, about senior officials who do not understand etc. Addiction comes for free, the life from there costs much more than all the pegs of rum ever gulped down. Human body reacts to a situation through stimuli which probably are provoked by smell, taste, memories etc, for drunkards happiness or sorrow loss or gain, life is always visualized through a bottle of alcohol and the image as clouded as a smoking zone in a downtown bar.

Being in a society that's orthodox and would never go forward, would always be way behind the current trends is like being in a gas chamber. Rebels who tend not to agree with current norms escape the world through alcohol, with alcohol in the veins must be they feel comfortable talking to the morons around. Prime reason for alcoholism in my land must be the society itself, where people wait for money orders from the middle east and plan meticulously to spend it , where people queue up to see a girl clad even in a slightly revealing outfit,where the society controls the very life of every individual, it's an open jail clad in green. Kerala, should not be hit with a hard summer, there is too much alcohol within people you could almost see men bursting out like meteors !!!!!!

Breaking free !!!!!

2011-02-06T08:23:00.000-08:00

What the pain took away from me was not happiness,
What made me cry in alleys of sorrow was not pain,
What dripped down and drenched those cheeks weren't tears,
What could it be, the demon within me, the very old fears.

The journey has begun, and clearly is catching it's pace,
At a breakneck speed it's a rat race, and am leading the race,
Drenched in sweat, the stench of life, is seeping through,
Like puss hitting the bone, the fear is ripping through.

Wings don't flap anymore, dreams not colorful anymore,
Are the Hopes to come by, strangled by the fears passed by,
Jumping the set barricades,meeting the worldly challenges,
The real one still remains, unchallenged, the fear within,
It's still languishing within, the fight, fight with the fear within.

Tale of a married friend !!!!

2011-01-29T21:37:00.000-08:00

Being in love, being passionate about having someone around you is a wonderful feeling. The feel fades away, moves out and you miss it, and the search begins for that adrenaline rush. The blood rush when, her hair brushes your face, the smell of good old cinthol powder, tulsi leaves and jasmine flowers, leaves you dumbstruck. Affairs in school days are something that remains within you. Those are the days you fear the class teacher, fellow students, parents and everyone around you, but still meet her at the backstage during annual day, at the backseat of the school bus during excursions, fun that can never come back.

But then there are extends to which, people go to be near someone you like.This blog is about one of my close friends who got married recently. Big bombs come in small sizes, is a statement you'll believe when you meet this guy just kissing five feet. Anyways, he was a romantic within, fell in love with a girl every quarter and had the guts to go behind a girl, stop her on the main road and propose in front of three other girls, barely able to look into her eyes without lifting his face at 60 degrees. Anyways, during the fall of 1998, our friend fell for a girl, who was the grandchild of the school's owner. Irking her, was liking poking a lion on it's ass inside a cave with just one exit.

Listening to someone is unmanly, and our hero never listened. The girl was a hosteler and I was the messenger always. From passing letters under the table to giving chocolates and flowers, convincing her that the chances my friend won't fall for anyone else kept me busy. Summer vacation meant a break in the flow of activities, love was oozing out and to feel her always was the point of discussion. Getting her book, bag hairband, lip balm something that could make our hero, feel the chick. At last, it was decided that something she wore, would be fine. Knowing the legacy, We denied stealing undergarments :).

Jumping into the ladies toilet at 2:00 am in the morning was fun. Sanitary pads, face scrubs, undergarments of all sizes and shapes. Arguments on who wears what etc went on till 2:45 am. We could find a white kurti with her name embroidered under it. We took it along with countless face masks, scrubs etc. Vacation started and one fine day, we walked into our friends home and the sight was quite embarrassing, dressed in the stolen white Kurti, jumping in joy the boy's face had a spark of fire in it.

Thank god, his face almost has the same spark, while he got married to this young lady. His posts in Orkut serves as the evidence, might be it's about the spark a woman could bring in, that's what he is passionate about and he has found his spark again.

Moving out of Mumbai !!!!

2011-01-17T06:19:00.001-08:00

Hey, this is a sudden realization, real sudden. But I always ponder over the reason on why couldn't I stick to the maximum city, on why I could not be a mumbaikar. I could hardly spend a week, and had to move out. But is that because, I am someone who cannot adjust, is it that life has become too comfy or have I lost it in me to push hard and move on. Anyways an RCA is required, because moving to Mumbai was a well though decision and the gene that triggered the move back still existed in me, ready to pop -up and pull me down at another instance.

Mumbai fast, furious, crowded, like fortunes of people climate changes, misery on the streets, hawkers beggars, eunuchs, prostitutes and what not. The fight for survival happens underneath your nose, happens everywhere but in Mumbai happens in such an volume it's hard to ignore. Merciless sights on the backdrop of Mercs, that's Mumbai. The reason I figured out might be lame, but might be worth a discussion.

Mumbai, the city of dreams are for people, who come in there with dreams. Dreams which took birth out of passion, not on half way fighting the never ending battle of survival. Dreams out of passion, often shape into careers, which are close to human instincts, into fortes which one wanted to end up before knowing the benefits aligned to it, dream like these are selfless, pure and doesn't die easy death. Then the later kind of dreams, picked up during the battle of survival, like a rainy day making you feel the need of a car ( Misinterpreted as a dream), Child's birth making you think of a Two bedroom apartment etc. These aren't dreams but sheer necessities which get tagged as dreams, cause anything hard to achieve or nearly in the horizon of luxury is tagged a dream. These dreams get's murdered, trampled as most of them are necessities and not even close to real dreams.

Pre- Mumbai, I almost had achieved all of my dreams other than going to a Big - B school and to see Man U play at Old trafford. Realizing the fact that all I dreamt about never had anything aligned to my natural instincts, I am still soul searching on what I really want. With such a heart no one could enter Mumbai, If you want to be a mumbaikar there are two ways :

1) Never think a lot,get to work, do the job and travel back. Never look back, never be retrospective, being retrospective in Mumbai is like being a virgin inside a Military camp, you are vulnerable. Never compare your lifestyle in any other metro, the breezy drive, people who recognize you by name and all these thoughts will just add to the pain while pulling out your feet, which has gone through serious changes during the train travel.

2) Have a dream, which could take you where you can never imagine, a dream only this city can make sense to. A dream which will make you feel the rush in the local trains like a body massage, the unexpected rains as a free shower or a blessing, floods as declared holidays. A dream that will get you somewhere where you get started, a dream that's a beginning and not an end.

I went to Mumbai blank, idle at work, thoughts rushed in, no dream big enough to make me stick, nothing justified me being there. There are certain places on earth, where your stay must be justified, I realize Mumbai is definitely on of them. A space there is either for someone who wants to go through life without thinking or for someone who has a dream that keep him up throughout.

Aadukalam, Simply Superb !!!!!

2011-01-15T05:31:00.000-08:00

A movie where, hero does not dream about being in Vienna or Austria, does not dance with hip shaking women with belly buttons deeper than the producers pocket, a movie where in fights have a touch of realism, music is effervescent and smells the locations where the movie is shot, that's something everyone would love to see. Aadukalam, the Dhanush flip does not symbolize realism,it's not another main stream commercial movie, it's in between, more like the silence between heart beats.

Has a story that has never been told, told in a way never been told and viewed by a generation who could never believe this story if not this convincingly conveyed. Kudos to the music director, music and the choreography is too good to be undermined. Last but not least the director and the cinematographer who have worked their a#$ off to get every bit in place. The movie moves on the hero's shoulder and with the size of his shoulder he has done a commendable job, good clean acting.

The movie is a must watch, for a generation whose thoughts are spanned between 14 - 42 inches, achievements are shorter lived that mouse clicks and happiness as blurred as a images on a CRT monitor under magnetic field. Three years of effort shows, great movie !!!!

Sweets @ Karachi Sweets !!!!

2010-12-21T02:30:00.000-08:00

Ajmal Kasab, a name that brings images of bloodbath, terror into the minds of millions of us. The images of cargo clad teenager, walking with a gun into the heart of India's business center, mercilessly shooting down strangers flashes across our minds. There are different versions of stories of this kid reaching India, the famous one being the sea route and pirates of Caribbean stories. Kasab's version in one of his statements was that he was picked up from Juhu, almost a week before the Incident ( " As read in some web page"). Anyways I am not sure whether, god knows the truth or not.

Anyways pals, the blog is not about Kasab, or Islamic extremism, it's about sweets. Like the mouth watering Rasmalai, Gulab Jamun's etc. How's it linked to Kasab and co. Pune is a city of outsiders, we have people especially students from everywhere here. And with fundamentalists of the great Maratha land around, I always have a insecure feeling roaming around on a Karnataka registered vehicle. But the on M.G. Road, on the Land Mark Arora tower building you have " Karachi Sweets". Yeah a sweet shop named after Karachi in Pakistan, my first reaction to the flashy board was " Where the hell are the fundamentalists who broke the panes of a poor Bihari's car". They should burn this shop down.

Lot's of time while roaming in M.G., there are friends of mine who always had a craving for sweets and they would hop into "Karachi Sweets". I would deny stating reasons ranging from loss of appetite, to a diet that am being strict about etc. The actual reason always remained the name of the shop, "Can any proud Indian eat from Karachi Sweets". Standing next to the cash counter, staring at the woman, who had skin as glossy as the Jalebi's, I wanted to ask this question " Why on earth Karachi".

I muscled up all my courage and asked her, "Why would you name such a sweet place Karachi". She smiled and asked my age and told that the shop has a heredity of 60 years. The partition resulted in them staying back here in India, where in a bunch of their relatives still lived across the border. She explained that they where from Sindh, and thus 100% pure Sindhi's and the shop is named after a city where their ancestors belonged to. I was startled at my own stereotype, from a different angle stupidity.

Then thoughts rushed into my head one after another, why would I hate Kasab more than ministers involved in Scam's. Kasab killed some of us because of reasons including ignorance, poverty, impoverishment etc.( Still has to be proved). He is just a button, what about the crimes committed by our own people which effects the economy, the credibility of one of the worlds biggest democracies. With all respect to Major.Unnikrishnan and hundreds of others who died fighting for our pride, there's a question that seeps into my heart " Why would I fight a tyrant thousands of miles away, when I have thousands of tyrants a mile away".

PS : I still cannot eat @ the sweet shop, with a smile from the heart !!!!

The Social Network !!!!!!

2010-11-18T08:00:00.000-08:00

Walked out of the movie theater, inspired, dejected, with "what the fuck's happening question". Rarely can a movie do that. If you are young and you are not watching this @ the theater, you are kidding me. "The Social Network" is an exciting fun filled ride, which everyone of us will be able to relate to. The direction is flawless, the cast is immaculate, the script is amazing and it's a joy ride.

You get a feel of Harvard, on how kids at a young age think about building a business,how the society around supports it etc. The answer behind the success of the movie is for sure, the 500 million user base of the web page, but then watching the movie is much more that reading the book " Accidental billionaires". The sheer Idea behind facebook is linked to the basic need of a human being " To get laid". Like it's said virginity is lack of opportunity, facebook is a world of opportunities, circling around a human beings basic needs of staying connected, building relations, feeling secure etc. Any business built around mans basic needs, survives and facebook just immortalizes it.

From a retrospective angle, why is that we do not have anything close to a facebook or Google, in our country. Why is that success is accompanied with a big belly and Viagra in India. Do we dream big, or do we dream at all, what's the last time you saw a company built by the so called IIM's or IIT's making it big on the map. Why is that our Ideas are not fun, why is that we fail to entertain ourselves, could we ever smile and make others smile while doing business, god will I ever get to be a change agent, at least will I see a change agent before I get wiped out, like the drops of whiskey on the table !!!!

Cheers Mark !!! and Hey watch The Social Network, worth every penny!!!!.

Hitting thirty must be scary !!!!!!

2010-11-14T08:20:00.000-08:00

Thirtydom, a term I coined, during yesterdays walk in the rain must be a scary place to be ( Thirtydom : Getting to the land of thirty's "Uncle land" ). To anyone who reads this blog, it's a crazy age to hit and makes you think from a tangent that screws you up. An age where philosophies of early twenties, suddenly get's challenged, a day sun probably came up from the Arabian sea. The hangover, back's up the fact and the vomit just autographs it. The loneliness, misery of making that medicinal tea, cleaning up the mess and last but not least no one around to talk about the pain swirling inside your head.

An age where in everyone around talk's about savings and insurance, marriage and kids and you are stuck with spending and borrowing, relationships and abortions. Yeah, suddenly the question pop's out "Dude what the hell are you doing??". The crowd around you in Barista has changed, they have an unadulterated smile, which is far gone from your face.The expensive watch, gadgets and the ever growing tummy, has taken of that charm, and within you a voice says " That ship has sailed" . Suddenly you are thunder struck by reality, when a single mom, points at you and says " Beta , say hi to uncle". "Uncle", what the hell??. I could be a big bro, not an uncle, but then big bro's are the college kids, the ones with the charming smile.

So the places that were yours suddenly feels odd, feels too young and out of the league.And you move to the so called lounges and Cafe's. The places are as quite as a cemetery, where couples look into each others eyes, some enjoying the pleasure of of doing it in public. The air inside is filled with topics that you never thought about.You could hear death trumpets of the most cherished component in anyone's life.Suddenly you are time trapped, too old for the young and not in place for the next phase. All your ex-girl friends have moved on, most of them are married, others are committed and some have taken the race to another level by naming their son on the bastard who broke their heart.

I bet you, the reason why someone would kill a happy, single life life is mostly because a fear that sets in, yeah a fear that would murmur deep down the fact that loneliness can be killing. When everyone around you is grilled and doesn't have time for you. Time's when your friends talk about the cost of diapers and the complexity of pregnancy, when they are tied up with their kids first day at school. You do not feel like calling them up at two in the night and talk about the chick you dumped or the one who dumped you. A phase in life when, your near ones are leading a selfless life, with sacrifices and bonding, you are stuck celebrating the self !!!. But then the rise of selflessness, must be out of love or through ignorance. Let's salute the ones who showed the gut's to stay single and the scared ones who took the other route. Hey, the last argument can easily be reversed and I am well aware !!!!

Generations of Maids !!!!

2010-11-05T02:46:00.000-07:00

Maid's are hard to find. They are in demand and the supply isn't amazing. Born in an upper class family, I have always seen a bunch of maids in and around the house. "The house", cause it was my step mom's house, that's where I first met them. A woman in her 80's would walk close to a mile, early in the morning to reach our place. She sweeps a court yard as big as "Palace grounds" in Bangalore, filled with dry mango leaves, bamboo shoots, tamarind shells, crow shit, human spit and every kind of crap you could imagine. If I decide to walk around that courtyard now, It would take half hour and an appointment with a physio.

The lady had a weird name, no matter what the weather was, what the day was, she swept the courtyard. If she couldn't make it, her daughter, her grand daughter someone backed up. It's as if the entire family was destined to clear crap. She got a hundred bucks a month, the morning food (Cannot call it breakfast,Mostly left overs from the previous day).Privileges like torn clothes, tampered books, damaged vessels etc were part of the variable component. I still remember the spark on that wrinkled face, when I held her hands and asked her name. I am damn sure if I would have not asked her that question, she would have lost it "Yes" her name. I was friends with her and came to know that she has been sweeping the house for almost twenty years and has never known how the house looked like inside. She was not allowed, she was one among the untouchables.

Another maid, who usually walks in in by 9:00 am, is fair skinned and big busted. Has an ass wiggling walk and an irremovable smirk on her face. She would not talk or interact with the oldie sweeper, will eat her share of the breakfast, not the leftovers. Had a good rapport, with the chief. (My step mom's mother). She had a television at home and the initial fifteen minutes of her day starts after discussing the daily soaps.Sitting on the veranda outside the kitchen, she would almost quote from the soaps and make her boss cry. Then she starts cleaning the vessels and the kitchen. Sweeps through the Veranda and then the bedrooms. Laundry was done twice a week, laundry time is erotica time. She flashes news on the sex life of women in the near by house holds, about stains and stink and what not. While women around enjoyed the conversation, they never figured out their pictures in bed painted by our very own Madiangellooo. She never cleaned the toilet's, that was a mean job, for her class. We had another lady come in to do that. She was not supposed to be seen at all, so she would come, clean and run.

Times have changed, I am not sure about the maid community back at my village, but then my current maid is the best I have ever seen. She's 60, climbs three floors to get to my flat, owns a cellphone and has nephews with engineering degrees and does not want her third generation to work in BPO's. I do not understand anything of what she tells me, she speaks Marathi and that too in accent even Raj Thackeray wouldn't understand. But the she's cheeky, comes in early in the morning, and cleans up the only glass that we used to have water. Then wipes the uncooked,gas stove thrice. Knocks @ my door with a force so considerate that the wood wont get hurt and runs away to the next home where her appointment starts in exact fifteen minutes after ours is over. She does not work on Sundays, charges extra for bed sheets, gives you a lecture on the sari that she want's on Diwali, would not eat anything until it was cooked with specific intentions of getting into her stomach. In case of an argument, the only statement she has is " It's your home too, If you want it clean you need to help out". But then, looking at her running around,12 different places a day, making a cool 15-20k, I forget everything. All my anger just dissolves away. No matter what, I respect the effort she puts in for herself, Hey am a good employer !!!!!

Hey just scribbled it up !!!!

2010-11-02T11:11:00.000-07:00

Have I ever failed in life, what's failure like, for that is it not necessary succeed. And success does not stumble upon you, cause you took a path which you never had a clue about. Today I am in a state that, I cannot fail. Whatever I deemed as success till date has not been achieved on a conscious effort, it's a flow I got into, and which leads me. It's dear to me not only because it feeds me, allows me to buy stuff and keeps life ticking!!!, but also that must have been gods vision till date. It's an illusion. a mirage, not success. It's a platform from where in I could build what I would deem success. Am I by anyways delaying gratification for the first time!!!!!

A realization that I cannot fail, embarrasses me, just rips me apart. Not even a single effort till date was valiant enough to be merited with a failure. Failure is a gift, a priced possession, found and fought by men who are passionate about something, Me the the mortal is not even close to it. "You cannot succeed", statements, took us here. Suggestions, observations and warnings stopped us from looking within. Might be a pinch of fate, makes me realize something. I have to start from the scratch, start loving something, chase that passion, attempt to succeed, actually succeed, in between find time to fear about failure and then invent failure.

Damn failure is far away, is it not, at least the current theory justifies it. What's failure when Success is not defined yet, whats failure more than failing in front of thyself. Hail the theory and let's move ahead.

Fight @ the streets !!!!

2010-10-30T22:42:00.001-07:00

What ticks you off ??. Is there anything that you've identified recently that could make you uncomfortable, it could be anything. Let's start from the monster manager, to the cling-on- super glue wife or the girl friend who won't let go after you got laid. Anyone, actually anything, could tick you off. I have recently Identified something that gives me a pain in the wrong part.

Honking, is something that I am unable to deal with.It could get into your nerves when you travel 15 miles to work every day, on roads built by the white men, who robed us of the Kohinoor but at least had the courtesy to construct roads that lasted, lasted till we were hit by the outsourcing mayhem and the cascading boom of the Indian middle class. Honking I have analyzed fall into a lot of categories, hell lot of them.

Call center cabs fall into the most unique category amongst them. It's as desperate as the cries of the kids inside to get out of the Industry, cabs with a call center tag is almost an ambulance. Tobacco,alcohol, probably a bit of cleavage and last but not least money per kilometer are the only motivation for these cabbies. They honk at everything, even a red light, cause for them all that matters is to drop these nerds and get to the next destination. The next category is the "retired honk", oldies who buy cars with their retirement money, forget their hearing aid @ home and then take all of us to world of dumbness.Oldies honk in a pattern, as if they saw something which they would like to grab but cannot, this type really ticks you off, cause the grocery store will never complain if they are late by five minutes.

The next kind of honking is the sophisticated I.T. honk. Mostly done by well dressed men, who either forgot to join a call, or are late for a meeting or got kicked by their working wife. These men, blame it all on the infrastructure, lane discipline etc. Men in this category treat the horn as their bosses face, they tab it consistently and then end it with an orgasmic smile. They wouldn't mind getting behind a bullock cart and honk, because at work they specialize in something similar "pushing underpaid kids to deliver world class technology".

Honking by rickshaws are like fart in a tornado, they never get heard, with the amount of noise around, their efforts to add to noise pollution is never recognized. Truckers and the bikers do their part, but then they really do not follow a pattern, it's simply irritating. Now the question is why do we honk, Is it that honking helps you get ahead. How many times do we think before we honk, does it actually give the desired results on the street. Let's ask an entirely different question, does your cribbing about life make it any better. How many of us think about car pooling, how many of us think about using different time slots to commute to work, how many of our corporates, offer work from home cause they understand than commuting to work actually kills the employee productivity. Hey, I just woke up, we are in India, where driving a car to the toilet is also considered as a status symbol!!!!.

The lost bag and Terror !!!!!!

2010-10-25T11:44:00.000-07:00

Terrorism sucks, people get killed and there is a lot of blood shed. Young men are lined up in the name of religion, some get into it for money and the rest because they didn't have much to do. Clerics and Military leaders, with different approaches to the same output, Politicians and arms dealers composing music for the same movie, the word terrorism has gained huge significance in every society in the world.

Now however bad an Ideology is or however irrelevant the Ideology is it has some positive outcomes. I am not cheer leading anything or being happy about anything here, but then any Ideology comes with an expiry date, might be it's the expiry date associated to the leaders who preached it, or to the society in which a certain condition prevailed etc. Parties based on Communism for example are allegedly pulling down the economic growth rate of certain states in our country.

Anyways, after a long day @ work, I had plans to eat cheese Masala dosa at a joint next to my home. Yeah yummy cheese masala dosa, a north Indian variant of an exceptionally good south Indian dish. While eating the dosa, I had to keep my laptop bag down, didn't want work to come between me and the delicacy. Dosa was tasty,too tasty that it made me forget not just the work but the bag as well. I paid the bill and moved on to my favorite milk shop. Milk packets usually go to the front zip of the bag and with the bag being not present, front zip was inaccessible !!!!.I Rode the bike back at a speed that would have won me some accolades in case it was a race, people rather hurled some sweet words in Marathi.

The ride back was 3 minutes to the max, my mind wandered to the local police station, where I would meet the pot bellied, tobacco chewing sub inspector, who would racially discriminate me and probably ask me to pay for registering a complaint and then the rest to investigate (In EMI's). Images of my manager, the asset team,and questions on how could you forget the bag, and then the confirmation stamp of irresponsibility from colleagues around. Thoughts just drove me nuts, parked the bike without checking out the hot babe in pink, ran to the restaurant. My bag was lying there with three onlookers speculating about the probabilities of an explosion. Yes no one dared to touch it, people were just about to wait and initiate a call for cops to come an do something about it.

Yeah, the society we live in are scared, shit scared of dying in a blast. Why not because as a tax payer we have seen these onslaughts for over a decade now, every nook and corner of the country has experienced a bit. But then the ride back home was soothing, why not I saved a lot of money, probably a good amount of time and last but not least did not add to my already damaged image " The happy go lucky guy". There are times in life, you would have thanked enemies, like I thank my ex- girlfriends father (marrying at that age would have been a disaster), On the ride back I thought, that terrorism has done certain things that are significant : Now we do not take anything lying on the street, We check on the Identity of the people we rent homes, We avoid crowded places at days when being @ home is a different level of fun altogether. Might be there is disagreement, but then not for the sheer trauma we are in, there is no way that I would have got my bag back !!!!!.

Jailed for Ever !!!!!

2010-10-23T08:51:00.001-07:00

On paid vacation, doing time, behind the bars , familiar expressions right ??. Expressions used to bring out the fact that some one is locked and is deprived of his freedom as he misused it, posed a threat to our Civilized, Politicized society. An expression that brings in images of tall men, with scars all over their face, images of unclean toilets, dark pathways, images of fights over food served in barely clean vessels. Disgusting, disturbing images aren’t they. I get to see these at times, though in a different context, images with well dressed men chained to laptops, to their loan accounts and to the commitments they took up expecting those to make life better.

Not a pleasant seen, I know, never a pleasant scene.Being locked up is no big deal, the only point being the fact that your life conditions deteriorate entirely. Instead of the fluffy silk bed, you’d find a torn mat with rats licking your legs. Breakfast at McDonald's will be replaced by Mr. Donald’s, who is tenured on chopping up women after raping them !!!!!. Hey, hey , hey what’s the point, Let’s get to the point.

Technically how many of us are free. Being Jailed or locked up in a prison, isn’t it just a physical representation of the state we are in. Let’s answer a set of simple Questions : How many of us could actually spend their entire months salary on ourselves,Just for a month. Yes I am talking about the salary day, how many of us would dare to move ahead of a Pizza hut or a night club. Let’s say at work, how many of us could actually change things around, being in the most renowned acceptable, employee friendly work setup’s how many of us could dare to ask a Why ???.

Aren’t we working for the Banks that lend us money for at least 15 days a month. Then another 10 days for the school fee, food and a negligible two to three days for the stuff that we call life. Do we have Jailers around us, physically no, but emotionally hundreds of them, Jailers who push Ideas on us, who trample our Ideas, worst scenarios who borrow our’s and do the dance. Manager’s this is nothing against you, though endangered there is a genre of angels amongst you, we acknowledge. Let’s check out the fights in our corporate jungle, don’t we fight because of much sillier reasons than in an actual Jail, for reasons as simple as “he did not smile at me”, “how dare could he talk to me like that” etc. Have we turned out to be a gunny bag of ego’s being punched around just to get more swollen.

Now do we have a parole system, where in we get breaks??. Yes we all do, we rush to a favorite spot and feel insecure about the advances @ work. At the pinnacle of an intense romantic act, we dial a colleagues number and ask “What’s up”, when the conversation ends, your turned on partner is not just "turned off", to a certain extend pissed off. We keep track of meager things and that keeps us chained, Jailed in a frame of mind. A frame that’s as big as a laptop screen or the default size of a Microsoft Exchange mailbox or to the max the size of a cubicle or for the Exceptionally ambitious and arrogant a Cabin with a rocking chair, with a dashing secretary.

You would have watched news channels reporting Jail break’s, with pictures of men who barely are humane in their appearance. Have you ever seen or heard of someone, who broke the kind of prison we are in, ever. No one would dare to attempt to break this vicious cycle. I think, “ Think”, yeah this is the least ever thing a human does on a daily basis, we are not allowed to, even if we are, we are like a cow tied to a tree, our thoughts would circle around topics planted into us, by our parents, friends and our very own society. Why is that you are asked to buy a home early in your life, why marry in the mid twenties, Kids in the early, late twenties, then get into jobs which are safe with bigger safer players, why, why, why. If you look at it from an angle that could be accused of being weird, being selfish and against the existing philosophies, these are unwritten rules that get’s you a life sentence without doing a crime. Say let’s take a Jewish kid born in Manhattan, what’s his sentence going to be, he is in a Jail the day he is born.

The exerts from his sentence would say the following “ Would go to a good public school, is supposed to love Math and Physics, will graduate in either Economics or Engineering or Finance, Will either be a lawyer, trader, banker or to the max a scientist. See the point here is not that the poor chap is not leading a good life, he definitely is, but then is it a life of his choice, well no one cares. It’s not the feet that’s chained us up, it’s the freaking mind, it’s much more tougher when the fight is within, guns bombs and force wouldn’t do much help. Will we ever break the chains ??? “ A million dollar question” and “ I am trying”.

Happy Realization !!!!!

2010-10-17T04:09:00.000-07:00

I would always be amazed to see punks, wearing T-shirts printed with weird men, men with abnormal hair growth, who have a layer of Hash floating on their faces, like a layer of fat above boiled milk. With dark circles and tattoos, adding to the agony , I would rather be scared at them not me while looking @ the mirror. But things have taken a turn, a Sharp U turn, John Lennon's birthday and Google’s doodle has done the trick.

The last weekend, I thought about browsing on what’s up with Beatles and how come could they could claim their fame above god!!!!!. My friends, this blog is to all those young punks who sing Enrique, breathe Eminem, could cry a river for Justin Timberlake. If you have not listened to Beatles, you ain’t eligible to hum an English one, they are the ones, period.

Might be it’s late for me, cause I always avoided, these so called classics. But once you listen to Paul singing “Yesterday”, I am sure nothing else could match the feel, Enrique’s tears are just cat’s piss, take it from me, nothing personal, but rarely does a number gives you the complete feel without naked Chicks. If voice is magic, and music could create an aura of Invincibility, it’s only Beatles who could match those words. I am going to be a punk myself, I feel bad that I never wore a Beatles T-Shirt, never drank Irish whiskey and never screamed @ a concert.

Now go start downloading and listening to them. Beatles songs and trivia are worth the effort. This is what you must look out for :

• Beatles, famous than Jesus.( Interview with Beatles)
• The Man behind John Lennon’s murder.
• About the Song Hey Jude.
• Trivia behind Yesterday.
• Sexuality of Beatles manager and “ Hey you got to hide your love away”
• About Ringo Star.

Last but not least, most of their songs has something linked to real life and it’s fun finding out, Beatles equals magic!!!!!, you want to listen some.....

A dream to wake up for !!!!!!

2010-10-07T01:05:00.000-07:00

Living an intentional life has been quite a dream. Intentional living is nothing,it's the most simplest of stuff to be said and not done. Have you heard of something similar "Will power is not climbing mountains and beating the world, it's as simple as not eating a chocolate when you have decided not to". It's at a very higher level delaying gratification. Delaying subtle pleasures of life for a bigger dream, an aim or a target to be reached.

Tuesday the 5th of October 2010,Pune was flooded, in a span of two hours of rain, the new face of developing India was under water. It's inhabitants like a set of roosting birds, could be seen perched everywhere water couldn't get them.Riding a bike from Hadapsar to Aundh, in itself is a challenge, coming to work a challenge, riding back another one and @ work a plethora of them to deal with. Yeah me the challenge man !!!!.Don't misunderstand, underwear is still underneath the pants, and raising hands does not defy gravity!!!!. Three hours in rain, drenched and walking into a home without power would have been just another day, if not I hadn't received that call.

Manager rings up @ 11:45 and intimates that, there's a meeting and I need to be up by 6:00 am. Drenched to the core, drying my clothes, with a heavy head on my shoulders, I slept off in five minutes. The alarm rang, I was up in a flash, made tea and was ready in no time and then this thought creep-ed in. Haven't I been planning to wake up early for a lifetime now, the same alarm rings everyday, just to get rescheduled another 5 times, what's that brought me up today. Was that meeting inspiring enough a cause.

Is waking up everyday without a dream, a dream compelling enough to be chased, worth the efforts.For the last 26 years of my life I have been waking up because sleep died out, there was something @ work, had to complete impositions, project, homework, had to by-heart something for examinations etc. Will a day break with a dream to be chased, will a dream to be pursued wake me up, will that alarm clock symbolizing worldly compulsions be replaced with an eternal call, I hope it does, otherwise a dog's death is imminent.

Bappu , We Love you !!!!!!

2010-10-03T03:26:00.000-07:00

Bappuji, Namaste.Not that I don't value the freedom I have, not that I am cribbing about the fact that the freedom is not enough. I some how feel, people are just enforcing stuff on us, and surprisingly even you are not being spared as a reason. Do you even know that ???. I hope heaven@network.com is functional and you have access to this blog. Because it's important, you know these basic facts of life.

Bappu, times have changed, it's not the same India anymore where we work in the farms and wait for the harvest season to celebrate, The kind of torture we go through between the weekdays, (Sorry in your time it's Monday through Friday), is actually a miniature version of the freedom struggle that you fought for years. Yes, you might be amazed that we have to fight for the freedom to do the right things and not the stuff that makes the manager happy, to do things that add value, to do creative stuff at work is a freedom struggle, a struggle against the outsourced, mundane, trash cleaning jobs that we are in.

Our struggle is not against the white's who came on horses, with canons and explosives, who levied taxes on us and deprived us of us our natural wealth, rather against a bunch of dud's who are merely postmen who bring to us order's from the very old people who you drove away from here. Yes they still rule us, they control what youth does here, they control the imagination of the parents, our upbringing patterns , educational systems, in short everything. Engineering colleges here popped up like mushrooms in a rain cause the demand for them has been on a rise. Tomorrow, am sure they are going to throw seeds that would grow scientists. Now they are looting us of the intellect, they have put a headphone on our ears, have given us read only access into certain critical systems that we monitor and we are jumping in joy !!!!!!. You fought against the Brit's who taxed us and built bridges, rails and roads which are still key to our infrastructure, when they left came in the so called democracy which robs us every month and gives us back ache's through the roads, asthma cause of the pollution, Malaria through the contaminated water.

Bappu, you can't let us be sober on a Saturday, this year your birthday is on a Saturday and that leaves us with no option rather than to roam sober. We celebrate birthday's @ work, where in we do not even know who's birthday is being celebrated. We get to hotels and pay in our shares to celebrate some one's birthday who never added anything to our life and on yours we are not allowed to go out, party !!!!. What good is the freedom you got us, Bappu ???. We wanna celebrate your birthday. We want to celebrate the freedom you got us, which we have already sold out for millions of dollars and are almost heading towards the next big fight. We do not want to curse you, we love you for what you have done, but not for the regulations bought under your name. If you can, could you please convey this to the Italian woman who currently rules the country!!!!!!!!

A stupid post !!!!!!

2010-09-28T09:12:00.000-07:00

Shuddering away from moms shadow, from the warmth of those wings, I decided to take that leap, never realized that it's just not the the will but wings that matters !!!!. Realization and actions always interact after the consequences, smell of mud and a slight dizziness. Lesson learned: "just will is not enough". People around added a bit more of masala and the lesson conceived deep within was "Only wings mattered" and the urge to fly is within everyone.Some said luck mattered and wings helped, no one had a second opinion about the fact that urge to fly is within everyone and is not the aspect that makes you fly.

Up again on the tree, with the scar from the fall and permanently registered scare, flying became a distant dream. Even more, stories of fellow birds who went beyond a territory, who got into frying pans, and got eaten up, who never came back where the chart busters. Birds who bought back home food, who never flew away from the nest, who were always there around were called the Ideal ones, the winners. Being a winner is not flying away, not dreaming, it's more of flying till a map that's drawn. A route that's set cause you do not alter the system, challenge it or making disturbing changes.Lessons popped up one by one.

Wings grew and the lessons learned, burnt away the will, a bird's life that would have been spent flying for which it was born, for which it was destined to, ended up collecting grains, picking up dry sticks and doing everything else it was never created for. How many of us pick grains,Collect dry sticks and how many of us see the world. If you argue that collecting dry sticks was my destiny then there's a problem from where the journey started, might be the sperm wasn't airy enough to fly!!!!. What's your destiny !!!!!

Are we taking Risks !!!!!

2010-09-03T01:30:00.000-07:00

Bench is a bad place to be, am not talking about the last bench in school where you could comment on the shapelessness of the history lecturer or the bench on the park that I made out with my girlfriend last weekend, with three glasses of beer inside. Yeah you guessed it, it’s the bench @ your company where you end up, when either you didn’t do well, you did it too well and finished the project, where you end up cause your brains and heart were not in sync and for all the other reasons one would attribute to reaching a dungeon.

This blog ain’t about bench and petty politics in a IT Services company, it’s about an experience that I went through listening to a conversation between two people in a coffee shop at Linking road, Mumbai, the conversation could be called an interview in our civilized, conditioned world, which we feel is the safest approach towards life. For me it was a life changing experience and for you all it’s worth listening.

Depressed and conked out, cursing certain hasty decisions I made in the last three weeks, I walked into the Coffee bean on linking road, college kids enjoying Gelato @9 per cup, expats stepping out of the last nights hangover, middle aged women with the latest gadgets and the economic times, it’s not just another coffee shop. I walked in and occupied this typical park side, couple smooching seat, facing a big mirror through which I could see guzzling traffic, beggars, street hawkers, audi’s and hand pulled rickshaws, the typical diverse Mumbai picture.

An expat, in her early forties was sitting ahead, with her back facing to me. She was flipping some A4 size papers, which looked more like a proposal, project plan or something pulled out from a lawyers draw. I ordered coffee which I would not be able to pronounce even if trained my tongue with some power yoga. The remembrance of the taste of it would bring only one expression on my face, “disappointment”. Taste of the coffee suddenly took a shape, the shape of man in his mid forties, dressed up in a pink shabby casual shirt, with a denim that would have been washed years back, his hair style resembled a honey comb and had grey and white hair juggled up, as if his brain has popped out. He smiled and occupied the seat right in front of this lady and inadvertently smiled at me, like he knew me.

The lady said hi, he shook hands with her and then the legendary conversation kicks off, I would call it legendary cause, I would not listen to someone who is presumably a common man, who could be perceived as a nerd by looks, last but not least who has eccentricity has his last name!!!!. The conversation strikes a chord with me when he says that he had “Puliogare”, in response to the question on what did he had that morning. Then in his fun filled flamboyant fashion, he explains to this expat on what Pluiogare is and how it’s made etc. (Pluiogare is a South Indian rice based dish, which is tangy.) My ears where kicked up, I eavesdropped. The lady asked him about his education to start with, he had done his Bachelors in Physics and he did it because he was confused and when people are confused in Kerala they end up doing physics( The answer would take any interviewer by surprise). The lady burst out into laughter and then he moved on explaining about the course that he done in a film institute and how he landed in Mumbai to work for some media houses as trainee, asst director etc.

The guy would repeat one sentence after every five minutes, “ Then I got annoyed, did not have anything new to do and then I quit”. The conversation had this quote at least ten times,and then I could make out, ohh it’s an interview and the lady belonged to a media house in Mumbai. The hero had worked with ad companies making adds for MDH masala, had made adds for undergarments and what not. During the conversation he actually referred to everything that he did as fun, like “ It was fun there, We had a great time”. Every experience in a company, in a project at the final phase of the conversation would end with “ I had a great time and I learned a lot, but financially couldn’t sustain it”. He actually partnered in three new ventures which had died and early death, built a website which gave technical guidance to newbie’s in the media/tech industry. The way he describes the webpage goes like this “ I had this thought of creating a forum where people could come and talk about their Ideas on technology and media and I could help them out”. He ended up the web page stint as great fun which could not sustain itself. When asked about his pet project, he spoke about a documentary on plastic surgery, which commercially failed and was critically acclaimed.

The interviewer was just a listener and was being walked through a career where passion was everything and where nothing mattered other than sheer joy of creativity. Questions on punctuality and being an organized person was laughed at, “ I made you wait for thirty minutes to see me today and that would tell you the story of how Organized am I”. The person in action belongs to a media power house and is the creative head for one of the best reality shows in Indian television. Spanning twenty years, working with at least 15 employers, and three of his own ventures this guy must be a nerd for any Civilized human being like us. But the last part of the conversation ends like this :

Lady : “ How much would you demand to join us, what’s the deal ?”
Hero: “ 75 -80 an annum, plus a 5% cut on the profit of the program and a signing in bonus of 20% of the deal”
Lady: “Done and we are happy we could have you on board.”

What’s that we chase, a paycheck , do we have a passion, will we ever over come the fear of failure, While in the wash washroom of the coffee shop, it was written on my forehead you mortal, dreamless passionless, paycheck chaser. Till you respect the passion in you, you are not respecting the god in you and greatness is godly, till you chase it you don’t get there!!!!.

"Conversations with an angel"

2010-08-23T02:25:00.001-07:00

Sitting @ Sanewadi residential grounds in my neighborhood at Pune, is in itself a re leaving experience, peace is within would not sound appropriate here. Granny's sporting an I pod, walking with their Nike and Rebook sneakers on, Middle aged women testing the depth of their lower abdominal fat, every two inches they walk, Affluent teenagers on their cellphones, some blushing as they talk, others flaunting their phones, Chotu's and the aaya's taming the headaches of their respective masters,Birds those are trained to be silent and dogs who cannot fight with each other, Sanewadi ground is a place you have a rep from each block of the society.

Holding her hands and watching this absolutely peaceful empty space in the midst of a residential complex was exhilarating , happiness was just oozing out. Bushes untrimmed and overgrown, clinging to the walls pathways and the electric posts, thick patch of lush green grass with a tint of dewdrops, couldn't be better for a cozy little conversation. Her eyes showed the pleasure of a child clinging on to her father, cheeks of hers touching the shoulders, hair combed to reflect a school going kid blocking the sight and whispering on my face, she is magic.

While talking, chit chatting we saw a kid and his dog playing, with her penchant for pets, or her untimely humor sense, she said "I had a German shepherd first, then my dad gifted me a doberman and now I have scooby (don't know the breed just the name), if everything works fine between you and me I'll have you soon". I laughed, that was something which came from nowhere, like a Muralidharan doosra, caught be plum, but one thing it did not hurt, the smile grew to a burst of laughter and now it's a joke to share, conversations with an angel, is straight talk.

Junkie -- A Depressing, Suicidal, Nauseating Experience !!!!!

2010-08-18T00:41:00.000-07:00

Of all the books that I read recently I would definitely like to talk about the Junkie, A William Burroughs book, supposedly a classic. The book is depressing to the core, it will make you smell vomit, hold your temples as if aspirin is nirvana, you could feel a hangover throughout the journey. But then every book must not be inspiring, must not have a happys the endings, certain of them must be like Junkie which is written on a puddle of puke, by a hallucinated nerd, who talks about addiction, what why when and where of addiction.

The best part of Junkie is the answer to the need of drugs and the answer is astonishingly simple, "to walk to eat, to live"!!!!.Yes Junk actually becomes the oxygen for a junkie and that's where the term comes from "Junkie" someone who lives on Junk. The books depicts the life of a youngster who is on odd jobs throughout, hits on from one Junkie to another, then progresses into peddling and trading Junk. It opens door into an unconventional life where you are free from everything and tied to only one thing that's Junk. A fascinating way of life where the only worry is the depleting stock of Junk with you, Our conventional ways actually gives us tonnes of worries, about the EMI's, about beating the one sitting next to you,about marrying a bomb, or the colleague who married one and what not.

But then being a Junkie is like being a feather, being light and being in a state of joy. Why not live being a Junkie for sometime, a way of life in which you would enjoy the rains, the full moon, good sex and sound sleep, Hallucinations, dreams and those simple pleasures of life that we loose in this rat race. Withdrawal symptoms, stomach pains, joint aches and the weakening of social life is scary but then freedom to fly comes at a cost, choice is yours be a jerk or be a junkie!!!!

Am I, sorry Can I be a terrorist !!!!!!!

2010-08-16T09:39:00.000-07:00

What's the hype about terrorism, what's it about being a terrorist. Is there a terrorist within me, the auto driver who dropped me home, the lady who gave me a lift back from work, yeah we all had some or the other kind of terrorists chained within us. What's that makes me different from terrorist, for that we'll have to define a terrorist, there are different ways of going about defining anything, Like sex being defined as a divine act, carried out at the peak of love by someone and a mere act to ensure that the biological craving hits the brake through the eyes of another one.

Yeah a terrorist for any average Indian must be based out of Kashmir, should pelt stones and to the min pull the fuse of detonators. I would say a terrorist is someone who actually believes in a cause, is committed to see a change in the current plight and spilling blood is the last thing he is worried about. Say for the fun of it let's ask this question to ourselves, is there a cause that we believe in that we could die for, spill a drop of blood for,( Spare money, sex, clothes and booze) though we love all these, am sure we would still not risk a cut or a bruise for these. If there is an eligibility test for us to become terrorists, or the some called inhuman bunch, will we ever crack it, the basic qualification being passionate or committed for a selfless cause.

How many of us would have actually fought a fight for a hapless one, how many of us actually have a reason for doing what we do, Do we ever think above ourselves, our needs and wants, would we ever climb the second tier on maslow's hierarchy, terrorism is far ahead cause we do not have time to think, to believe, to feel for a cause or to live for something selfless. Aren't our motivations too frugal, aren't we the so called civilized bunch trapped into a flow that we never would even think of breaking off. Or is it that we never went through enough agony to think above us, Why would I ever share food till I know how does hunger feel like !!!!!!. I can never believe the fact that someone becomes a suicide bomber cause he was in poverty, Mohamed Atta, was not in poverty when he crashed the twin towers, he had enough to live, I would say there is corruption in terrorism as well, but then there are wounds, bruises that makes these youngsters come on the streets, am sure that motivation is hardly monetary.

The kids in Kashmir are pouring their blood out on the street, they are educated and whatever the forces behind them are, am sure they are ticked off, how long could you be in a state of anarchy, how long could you tolerate elderly men disappearing from the village, how much would you like it when you have to Salute a South Indian or a Sardar holding a sten gun, every time you pass by to buy a pack of cigarettes. Don't we have political honchos next door who bring much more frugal fights on to the streets and still go unnoticed or untagged. They get to fight elections and be part of coalitions, they get protection and continue threatening our rights. As it's said it's declared a mistake on the basis of who's the actor and not the act.

Wedding Indian Eeshtyle !!!!!!!

2010-07-06T01:25:00.001-07:00

The Indian Marriage.

Marriage and Indian Marriage’s are entirely two different subjects, yeah weddings in Indian could be a research subject, it’s as complicated as the culture, spicy as the dishes, emotional and sentimental as the people, a journey as bumpy and adventurous as the rural Indian roads.

How does it start here , who talks first about it. It could be any of the following situations that leads to a search, leads to a chat, a formal discussion. It could be the maid who complains to the land lady that their son’s bed sheets are increasingly showing stains and the activity has hit a new peak, it could be the 50 year old neighbor , who saw the kid watching an adult movie @ the cinemas, while he was three rows behind. Or it could be the frustrated geek in his early thirties who could never be cool enough to make it himself, who suddenly wakes up from a blanket of codes, just to realize that black rimmed spectacles doesn’t get him laid anymore. There are instances in which the young gun finds a chick, talks to his parents and sticks to his decision come what may, very rare though it happens in India.

My next post will be on the initial step, the different ways about it. The selection process, all I want to say at this moment is I do not make stereotypes, I just see them !!!!!!!.

Let's talk Marriage !!!!!!

2010-07-06T00:39:00.000-07:00

Marriage is something which I always loved to hate, always seen through a goggle which would retrieve images of stress, anger, depression and what not. Like if you would ask how could a villain look for an average Indian, he would look like Pran, Prem Chopra or Shakthi Kapoor, might be my stereotype processes this word into images which would reflect a man behind bars, women holding their knees to the chest and weeping the guts out.

The subject deserves, debate attention, introspection, study and a hell lot of research. Crossing 25, People say my fate is decided and I would join the party soon, so this blog is about marriages, married people (men especially), on how marriages are made before they are broken, how it changes life’s, why is it required, why does it kill, when is the right time, how to get it done (Financial's of marriage), a bit of fun, some funny marriages or marriage incidents to be quoted. Guys I hang out with men who are on the run to hit forties and are horny, hungry, hilarious and most importantly un-happy. This blog will have loads from real life experiences and as the standard dialogue goes, does not have any resemblance to anyone alive or dead, and if feel so, it’s just that we both know the same person alive “Coincidence”.!!!!!!.

As they say marriages are decided in heaven and made on earth, must be true, cause certain combination's makes you feel believe it, Punjabi with a Gujarati (Spendthrift and the miser), Maharastrian with a Bihari,( Bau with Bhaiya !!!!), Arab and an Irish, yeah god I feel decides certain things that are real crazy and we definitely give it life and shapes.

Google Search on Love !!!!

2010-06-29T05:15:00.000-07:00

To be in love must be like to be in a frequent state of high, when it get's to a stage when love takes shapes of rights, control and possessiveness, it's like black tea after a mug of beer. The waits behind the stage during annual day celebrations, money saved to buy roses, cards and the indispensable dairy milk, treasured moments when eyes meet during an afternoon boring / snoring history lecture, that was love. I realize, it does not happen everyday, slowly kicking into the pace of mid twenties, among the frustrations of work, pressures of personal life, love has dried out, to such an extend that a Google search of the heart ( Including all files and folders) would bring no results :).

Love has to be a priority, otherwise it's crap, as I have read somewhere if you are driving a car and kissing a girl and if you do not meet with an accident,then the kiss never got the attention it deserved!!!!!. Being in love needs one to have the counterpart as a priority, stocks that tanked, cost cutting @ work, colleague who got promoted, friend who bought a corolla, must not cook up your brain. Remember those college days, the days when the colllege bus stop would have had your sweat marks left on the pillars, your watch giving you a tip on how patience could help, that's the kind of time and free will that one needs to be in love, to be in love in a very grass root level would to be in a frequent state of attraction, in wait state without any complaints, in a state where ego and envy is under played for the feel and presence of her. Love was tough but beautiful, inland letters and public telephone spiced it up, internet cafe's with closed doors and college grounds with banyan trees, played stage for the drama, would I ever get back there.

Life goes on, certain people don't, they get stuck at times when it get's to these age old emotions, born with us. Want to be in love once again, in a state of high, not the love in action, the pleasure of which is wiped out along with the semen stains on the bed sheets, but the love in emotion, which makes you cry, pinches your heart, keeps you waiting with a smile. I hope she reads this !!!!!

French Dosa !!!!!

2010-06-28T05:22:00.000-07:00

What do you want ????

2010-04-14T01:31:00.001-07:00

2010-03-14T01:31:00.000-08:00

Summer is back, sipping strawberry soda, under the cool roof , summer does not seem to be a challenge to me. Cribbing , thinking about ways ahead, I could see this on my right, through the colors of the effervescent drink, There are lives, that are colorless, hapless and still they smile, they enjoy. This tub of dirty water could bring smiles to him, A cool couch, tasty drink and the chilling atmosphere, pinching me on ma ass, God grateful for everything that I have :)

Times have Changed, So has Love !!!!!!!

2010-03-07T10:24:00.001-08:00

Riding down to have lunch, me and venky saw a chick, tanned, homely, slim and what not. She had an aura, something that would turn you on. We stopped the bike and waited for her to pass by, could see a Wipro tag around her neck, she had some friends around her. Yeah you guessed it right oily hair, spectacle's, collared, striped T- Shirt, on top of a light blue denim, her friends were all from the same mould. We could not talk to her, she turned around and gave us a glance, though sunny, dusty a afternoon, we could not miss the twinkle in her eyes,her eyes were killing!!!!.

Now I do not know whether venky tried, but I tried. Yeah searching that chick online. Is that a feasibility, you bet it is!!!!.Filter your Search with these conditions, (Pune, female, Hindu, Wipro) the combination would bring in front of you not more than 100 results, but our heroine was not in the list. Search done, and now what. Drive back home, me sitting in the front, one of my close friends driving the car, some how the topic came around girls and suddenly I screamed, there must be a way that I can paste an image into google and do a search. So all that I need to do is to click a pic and then search !!!!!. They never knew what happened on the way to lunch in the afternoon. (Necessity is the grandmother of invention).

It's 2010, there are ways around, but there's one point to be noted, why is that an affair get's shattered and people move on to someone else on a fly. I would say that there is no pain involved, let me explain. If me and venky were in the 80's first of all we would not have seen that chick on the road with three other guys, next there is no way that a search could be done, or no means which we could have tracked her. We would have followed her, to her end point, waited in the hot sun,( Insult to injury on our complexion), might be that we smile at her and she smiles back,all we could get is her name, to the max her address, then what???. Write letters in the plain old paper, wait for her in the bus stand, at the college gate and then wait for another day to get a reply. (Look at the time a girl used to get to revert.) These days, before a girl scraps back, you might have alreay been out with some one else :). Let's call our heroine Sruthi, Sruthi's father would know the love either through his colleague who saw us near the childrens park, or uncle's son who spotted us @ the corner seat of a theatre and then all hell breaks lose. These days a parent would not be able to find what his kid does until and unless he is a certified hacker. Tough is it not??, love had a minimum effort level required those days, love is all changed, it could now be found through GPRS, will smell more of Cappuccino,is as elastic as a condom, last but not least comes to you at a pace, which will never make you feel the loss of it.

Sruthi, we did not find you, but around the turn to the Andhra mess, we will still expect you, our bikes will slow down, heads will turn, brakes will screech, we know that you might not be around, but heart denies the brain and we look around!!!!!!

Just a random pic !!!!!

2010-02-28T09:58:00.000-08:00

Porn is a topic seldom discussed, it's tough to buy, to watch and is never discussed. Names of these movies are often funny and would bring out a giggle, those wild, naghty, rib tickling ones. Roaming around Pune, I took this pic on the heavily crowded Laxmi street. It's good to know that we have creativity oozing out everywhere, even porn comes with professional marketing, the naming tells you rest of the story. Ogilvy & Mather India beware :)

Mr Lonely !!!!!!!

2010-02-25T09:56:00.000-08:00

Walking down the street @ 11:00 pm, listening to ear bursting music, kicking pebbles around, I could feel that around me. It smelled, of berry, did not have a shape, but it was there in and around me. Lately it has been around and now vey close by. Cooking on a weekend, driniking alone at the corner table of the bar, it was laughing at me. As the fork dug into the starter, it smiled, and the smile dug into me, no stains, no blood.

Riding @ a 100+, crossing a multiplex, overtaking a couple, with the chick grabbing the guy and her pale back refeclting on my face, I felt it again, in and around me.Tightening the accelerator, biting the crisp winter breeze, I could feel it gripping me. Beer, dripping through the sweat, fear pouring out as tears, I could feel it teasing me, playing games with me.

Suddenly the phone rings, and talks my sister and it just fades away, I could feel lighter now, I realize it was nothing but, loneliness fucking around me !!!!!!

Students, Suicides and Three Idiots !!!!!

2010-01-26T01:06:00.000-08:00

Media would link anything to a popular topic these days, Three Idiots a hit movie portrays the Suicide of a student cause of academic pressure and that's it, here we go, now all the suicides committed within the student community is hooked to the movie and the director Raju Hirani. The provocative scenes, dialogues and last but not the least the emotional song about wasted childhood and youth, yeah powerfull enough to drag someone to suicide, anytime !!!!

Some wasted combination's of sprem and eggs, hanging on a piece of thread, making it to the news itself is a great thing, adding to the agony our media tags it to one of the best creations ever in Indian cinema. Our media is great in linking up stuff, ISI's hand in Gujarat earthquake was almost proven by our media. (Tsunami was tagged to Al- Qaeda).

God, I thank you for just one reason, that rapes are not happening within the student community. If that would have been the case, Raju Hirani's character Chathur would have been responsible for inducing "Balatkar" as well. Over and above,our student community,frequent Vada Paav eaters would even tag their farts to this movie. I would not be amazed if our media comrades, report a story about some jerk who commits a suicide cause he was being called silencer within the campus. Raju be prepared, you have done a crime, not because you did something wrong, cause you said that something is actually going wrong.

At a broader level the point raised by the movie, is that our nation is a cultivation land for MNC's, now they are sowing engineering seeds, earlier it used to be nursing, decades ago accounting was sowed and reaped!!!!!. Since procreation is our known recreation we would not go short in supply.

For all the Teenagers committing suicide from now on, please ensure that your suicide note,not only talks about you being responsible for the act but also the fact that a hilarious movie is not good enough to shaken up your balls. I hope the student community is still left with a bit of it - Balls!!!!!

Tiger, I hope you read this !!!!!!

2010-01-05T10:36:00.000-08:00

People always called me “Buji”, in Malayalam that means a creative type. Could always crack a joke at any point of life, could always think and talk from a perspective that normal beings don’t. But I would not agree, because being eccentric was always out of the trend. Yet there are some thoughts that came in, flashed and kept me blinking for quite sometime. These thoughts made me laugh and think and quite a few of my fellow beings seemed to be excited about them.

Indian media has started of the year with rape, molestation and charges against top guns, world media kicked it off two weeks ahead off the New Year with a famous sports person proving his worth, off the play ground as well. But is it worth it, come on let’s be honest how many of us are actually true to our partners, Married men stare at women in India to such an extend that, the lady might have burn marks if the line of sight is maintained for a given threshold of time. We enjoyed reading the infidelity stories of Mr.Woods, but is infidelity just about sleeping around with some one else, I would beg to differ.

Okay, let’s stop the infidelity discussion right there; I personally believe men are much more than sperm bags. The first thing that came into my mind when Accenture pulled out as a sponsor for Tiger was the fact that, the company must have waited. If he would have got the family back on track and won another PGA, that would have benefited the company much more, but then does it matter. Will I stop outsourcing work to a cheaper location, because my vendors poster boy slept around with a cock tail waitress!!!!!!.

Tiger calm down, I do not think you have a good agent with you, with all the due respect, I would say if I would have been your public relations guy, your off field talents would have been sold off at a much higher price. Imagine a company leveraging your talent off the field, to sell its products. Let’s say a condom company, I would say the captions could range from “Be a tiger on the Bed”. Why would not I make John Abraham wear a low waist denim and launch an undergarment with the name Tiger, the add could have a story board of Chicks falling for John when he picks up something that had fallen from him, (Usually guys reveal their stuff within bending down or grabbing something above shoulder)I would say the promos for your Undergarment brand could be “ The tiger within”. Tiger let’s stop right there, I hope to see you on golf courses, winning championships again. Becoming a tiger might be easy, but being one is tough !!!!!!

God, You Do Rock !!!!!

2009-11-26T07:14:00.000-08:00

God, challenge me, grill me, put me in trouble, but ensure that I have a stack of cash and presence of mind and the grace that you could shower on me and I will come through anything. Not that I believe in the slogan “ It’s all about money, honey”, but then god could take shapes, sizes and one of the prime shapes he could take is on paper, with Mahatma Gandhi and a governors sign on it.

This post is not about facing troubles, not about having money, it’s about different combinations that some one above puts you through and makes you feel that comfort is a rare equation that you scarcely reach when alive. It’s like a goal in a football match, where in the mid fielder has to run through, dribble a couple of defenders, pass it on to the striker, he has to choose the right time to hit it, sync it with enough power and placement and ultimately the ball has to shake the net’s behind the loser’s back. Any miss in the whole series of actions, the whole set up tanks, life is as delicate as that.

Days when, pockets were empty and the future dark, problems were approached with a different attitude, the brute force way, let it come and I will take then head on!!!! (As if there was a choice). The worry was more about what would come first and prayers to god more on scheduling the problems based on the assumed intensity. Prayers as simple as let the personnel from the electricity board not visit my place, let him forget about the unpaid bills. Prayers that would make people burst into laughter, prayers to god about your dad coming home without the smell of rum etc. But then problems were never solved, it was either postponed to become a bigger one or to die away as the intensity dips. This is a set-up where god tests you with traits like skin thickness, shamelessness, where in he makes you look like a one year old in a topless bar. People, usually pull through this phase with lot of negativity and end up being habitual to this mode. I would call it “hold on tight mode”.

You would think that it’s over but then the problems you had while living in a home that leaks during winter, where in you would walk miles to make a single phone call are much more less complex ones, cause these are the states you go through shit when you are in it already (Neck Deep !!!). God would set-up another phase for you, if you are worth it and if you held really tight, and this phase is tougher. Money the Mr.Fix it flows through your hands, you expect it to solve problems, seldom it does. You now have problems to manage it right, to think about fixing problems is much more complex than waiting for it to happen, God promotes you and every promotion is a pain (You are now into stuff that you have not done and your previous expertise is no longer serving you.).

Money will create problems, if you do not understand the flow of it, whether the right people are handling it, whether your demand matches supply etc. Your prayers change, interaction with god changes, It would be about fixing problems, rather that prioritizing it’s arrival. This is a thinking phase and the all mighty might play a joke by taking away presence of mind and decision making skills. Realization of mistakes against the time it was committed, will play a major role in this phase. If you mess up, you would again be Rocky Balboa waiting for problems to come hard and hit you. Seeing through this phase would take a good 8-10 years and ultimately you have arrived.

God sits there still, looking at his loving son, whispers “Son from waiting problems to happen now you are trying to solve problems, far are not those days where in you would work towards getting problems fixed before they even happen”. You are always on the run, you taking a break from the race wouldn’t mean that world has complied, problems are always there what matters is how you deal with it. Run, hard and learn to enjoy it, as if we have a choice Bloody Rat Racers!!!!!.

' 99 A walk back home

2009-11-08T07:52:00.000-08:00

Sitting beside me Prithvi was weeping, 1:00 am, a November night ’99, most importantly the last day of school life. We walked together holding hands, from the annual day venue to the nearest main road. Walking past the walls of the school, imagining life beyond the walls, could bring us nothing else than tears. Prithvi, was one of the shortest and the most mischievous amongst us, he was the silent killer of the gang. A good athlete and a silent observer, seeing him cry is like rain during a hot Indian merciless summer.

We walked past the main Gate, it proudly read, Sadan Central School. An English Medium school is a big deal in any village, our’s was the best in that vicinity. Peeping into the Security room, Prithvi yelled, look we have Sethu Annan sleeping, smells of arrack! I peeped in and saw, our schools protector, sleeping half naked covering himself by the lungi which he wore (Exuberant in color, silky in texture our Lungi’s a infamous). As usual, Prithvi pelted a stone at him and ran, and me taken by shock ran behind him. We reached the main road in a flash, thanks again to Prithvi and the cheeky act. All the friends had left with their parents or had taken refuge in the hostel; we decided to walk back to Prithvi’s home just six kilometers away.

It was a cold November night and we knew, life was going to take a big turn. RT, talkies was playing another adult movie, Prithvi cribbed looking at the poster, I told you, we could have watched this rather than your chick’s Bharthanatyam. Shakeela the porn star was in full swing during late 90’s, posters with her sari dripping down; exposing her Cleavage was a common item in every porn menu. I laughed; Prithvi was an amazing friend, always there to support. Behind the stage, I was supposed to meet, Divya, the slim, thin and the most sorted out girl in school. She would come backstage and I could meet her alone, she wanted to talk.

Backstage meetings are fun, I had to get around the girls dressing room and reach the rendezvous , She had to fool teachers, her friends and most importantly her mother, Mrs. conservative Sita Ammal. The moment I came to know the plan, we had called a meeting, Nisar and Najib, clearly denied me from meeting her, the consequences could extend to a suspension. Ashfaq as usual remained neutral though vouched to support, Prithvi told, “Machan, you have the chance, and you must do it”. Eyes gleaming with enthusiasm he said, nothing would go wrong, He would watch my ass, I got the message.

Walking past the Girls dressing room, I could hear Divya’s sweet voice; she was ready for the dance and was awaiting her turn. I walked fast, Prithvi, way behind, signaling to move forward. I was confident, nothing would go wrong, waiting in the dark, behind the stage, precisely under the bamboos holding the stage, I was waiting for the moment. I could hear the sound of anklets, it was her, she had slid out and came running, I was squatting under the main stage and she ducked and held my hands, taking deep breaths. The deafening sound of our music teacher performing on stage, frogs and insects screeching, pitch dark woods ahead of us sent a chill down my spine, but her hands could make me forget everything. She was nervous, wanted to talk but was gasping, sweat was wiping away the thick cream our make-up man had applied, she smelled of Jasmine. We spoke; it was a four year old love affair, for the first time we met alone. Blood rushed through my veins, she was breathing down my neck and I could smell her sweat, little beads of them falling on my shoulder. I held her tight and she planted a kiss, a juicy, slimy, sweaty one. Under that make shift, stage, November night weather I saw heaven, I kissed her back, first on her forehead, then on her nose and then on the lips. I could taste something sweet, love and lipstick deadly combo!!!!!. My principal, had a voice which easily could be used to break stones, I felt her heart thumping and held her even closer, and then came the announcement asking Divya to come backstage. “Panic” would be an understatement, Sita Ammal was already in and around the ladies toilet, we could hear people searching for Divya. She pushed me and ran towards the water pipe, near the gents toilet on the other side of the stage, I sat there frozen. Prithvi whistled safety and I started my walk back, Divya’s performance on stage started, she had gone around the stage and come in through the main entrance.

Prithvi was pulling my leg, through out until, tears rolled out of my eyes, I loved her more than anything and I felt her that day, the warmth of a woman can get anyone going. Being a motherless child, her love was the only source of compassion. I cried, again, Prithvi had a hand on his forehead and was consoling me, “Da you could still be together, we all will be together no worries”. I hugged him, he felt my pain, I knew he felt it.

Prithvi was an overprotected kid, with a big family and lot of relatives, he could not even piss without being noticed, watching a porn movie in the near by talkies was just a dream, anyways he loved those movies and we watched them secretly. Prithvi, was walking along, singing hits from bollywood movies, music was a passion for him. Sitting in the middle row, all we did was to hum the latest hits, mix them into a desi version or bring out a pattern in these songs. Prithvi would come running at sharp 9:20 and announce “Today its Akshay Kumar hits” and that would mean all day we sang “Chura ke Dil mera”.

I would, look back at the corner seat of the girls row and Divya would be looking at me, our eyes would meet, exchange messages and Prithvi would pinch me when the teacher was about to notice. Being a good student was my birth right and I never did anything more to be one, was never attentive, never studied anything at the hostel but always got the marks. I was a miracle kid, my friends used to love me though their parents had a nightmare, knowing their kids inclusion in my friends list. We walked, in front of our friend’s home, decided to ease out. Prithvi was painting the compound wall with all the names he hated. Easing out, during the first break of the day was a competition; the same kicked off by our gang. The urinal was quite big, with shoulder level cement barricades segregating each other. The tached roof above, would let the sunlight and rain water in, there were footboards that would allows us to ease out without stepping on piss.The competition was to pump it up to the highest point against the adjacent wall . Eight people would unzip, stand on the foot boards and the competition begins, testing the wall against their piss power. Kids drank water continuously, disregarded nature’s calls, did everything that made them a winner, winner of the prestigious Piss Prince competition. The competition was a hit, and the whole school knew about it, soon there were inter class competitions.

We stood in the Principals room, Prithvi as usual looking down. The urinal competition case was cracked by one of the teachers, thanks to some rats within us. Prithvi’s mom had come and had to listen through a whole load of shit, the worst part being, the management asking for compensation to re-paint the walls. Money was deposited and we walked out of the room, holding each others hand tight.

From RT to home would take at least two hours, we had to walk down through a road between paddy fields, which was extraordinarily scenic during the day. Walking past the paddy fields, we knew we were passing by the best times in our life. Prithvi would ask, what will we be in ten years and then would reply to it; chuck it at the least we will be friends, good friends. A truck or two would pass by and we would again start singing, villages are good, you have freedom to sing, talk aloud and the cost of privacy is minimal. A Muslim cemetery was nearing and Prithvi was already spicing it up, talking about ghosts and the experiences people had. He would suddenly change his voice and behave as if a ghost had entered him, will duck and walk by and do stuff until I freak myself out. Ghosts, the most discussed topic in a hostel. We would carry new joiners on their coat and leave them at the middle of the garden with their hands tied together. Waiting for the kid to wake up and freak himself was always a tough task. We’d rather pelt a stone at him and enjoy the show, most of them passed out, some fainted.

Prithvi, would talk about his crush on the Malayalam teacher, would describe her out in a way you could come listening to it. He loved her curvy hips and made it a point to sit at the front bench for all her lectures, when she turns around, the glimpse of her belly button through the slit between the shoulder and the waist would take him off. He would grab my arm and pinch me hard. Prithvi would try to get everyone look at her the same way, Ashfaq would not and Prithvi hated those saintly thoughts. Curves on the road, are steeper when we near Devi Talkies, the next spot on the way back. Here is the truckers stop for tea. We drank tea and the shopkeeper would not take money, Prithvi’s father had done some favor the tea would be a sign of gratitude. Hot tea at 3:00 in the morning and we could see, Rekha’s home. A controversial figure in school for being into multiple affairs, at different levels (Even a teacher was said to be humping on her!!!). We commented on the subject, by planting ourselves on the moral police chair and started the walk back.

I always hated Shankar, cause his parents were in the good books of Divya’s parents. The kid was highly rated and they always pursued Divya to be with him. His home was big and stood like a palace in the moon light. Prithvi, never missed a chance, hey your villain might be sleeping inside, might be he is shagging of thinking about your chick !!!!!!. Shankar was nothing more than a girl who wore shorts and a shirt, he would even pee in his pants if teachers asked to do so, with big eye lashes, hairless legs and a plump body, 24 carat gay material. We decided to teach him a lesson, the lights in front of the house crackled, along with one of the windows on the top right. We ran, reached the next Junction in a flash, and took a short cut through a mud road to reach the backside of Ashfaq’s house. The walk back was almost over, two compounds and it was our home and we knew, those six miles would never come back, nor would we have the balls to walk , neither would the world let us try.

About Love and Liberty !!!!!!

2009-11-03T23:08:00.001-08:00

Do you actually need to love someone to understand him? To understand and to love are entirely different concepts all together. Why is it that even the most near and dear fail to touch your heart, why is it that they flunk at moments of life when you actually would expect them to lift you up. Why is that you fail to understand the emotions of a parent when you bring a stranger home and introduce her as your wife. Why is it that the girl who you love the most rings you up on the eve of your sisters wedding, and tells you that that she is so happy that the obstacles are now over. Why is it that we always forget to listen to what we say, getting into the shoes of the listener, Do we ever realize that the happiness we share would hurt the guy at the receiving end.

Love is not just an emotion in this part of the world; it has conditions, ifs and buts attached to it. It makes you compromise more than liberate, it chains you harder and pulls you away from the castles that you would have built. To understand someone is a big deal, for that you have to break the shackles of love, like breaking the ice to see the churning beneath. Love might not give you the see through picture, It would mask the real he, It would make you draw pictures of the person based on your wants and needs. Painting him as a 9:00 to 6:00 husband is what love does and helping him to do more at work is what understanding would do. But then the million dollar Question is, does love actually liberate????.

No, it does not, but then love with intelligent compromises does. Cooking twice a week and cleaning the house when she is busy at work must definitely help. An onsite opportunity for her must not be put down, because you do not have anyone to cook. A maid or hotels could solve the issue. The Indian concept makes it clear that marriage is about being together, weather you like it or not. Being together helps but does it always, let’s do retrospection. Who would not love to have sometime for themselves, everyone must get a breath of fresh air, do not take me wrong, and it’s not about screwing a Lebanese chick on Coke. It’s about time to pamper you, the most important thing we keep on neglecting. I could see nerds around me, who crib about being in bondage when they are alone, and be proud about a family life when thrown light at them. One thing about the system is that it teaches you to compromise, on marriage because your sister thought so, on promotions cause your manager felt that it’s not time yet, getting your ear pierced cause the crowd might take it wrong. Why can’t we break the shackles and live, live a life than survive. I feel, Sri Sri Ravisankar must talk about the art of Survival and then map it to the art of living.

We have bent our backs, in front of the whites who screwed us for hundreds of years, in front of countless governments who played around with our money, we have compromised our choices and preferences as NRI’s to bring money back to our land, We picked up safe careers, never bothered to tried instincts of Photography or Journalism, Is that enough of sacrifice, the ultimate aim of life is joy, pursue it at any means and cost and god will be there with you, he does not have a choice. God knows the truth , but waits.

Movie Review " All the Best"

2009-10-18T22:51:00.000-07:00

I would not have written this review, If I wouldnt have accidentaly read three or four of them, praising this movie. The world has become a pressure cooker, and every oppurtunity to burst out, we would use it to the max. The laughter, the outburst of those, were idealy an exhibhition of Stress levels of the young frustrated, Indian gen next.

Sanjay Dutt, showing signs of retirement must actually have choice on his costumes, though he might not have a say on the roles. With fat around his belly and jokes that did not hit the chord, this would have been one of his worst ever perfomances. Fardeen Khan will make a come back soon, I hope this is his 100th comeback in the past 15 years. Ajay and his female counterpart were in shape and did justice to the roles that were offered. With no stroy line, no melody or music the movie drags you to a death.

The worst part is not that the movie was below par, it's the level that we have fallen down to, as movie buffs. I could hear the crowd crack jokes and move out of the hall, there were nerds who were went to extremes like recommending the movie to thier friends ( Might be enimies!!!). We belong to a bunch who are used to movies like Lagaan and RDB, on a lighter side, we have applauded Munna Bhai and Hera Pheri, but this is not what we used to love. If it's stress levels and work pressure that's piling up let's hit the gym, read some books, work for an NGO, I would say laughing at these sub standard jokes is like laughing at yourself, the worn out, stressed and good for nothing your "Self".

NB :- Makers of the movie, enjoy the money that you have made, spare a bit of that, put it to research on a subject that is worth hitting the screen.

Book Review Chetan Bhagat, Two States - A compelling Read !!!!

2009-10-14T00:36:00.000-07:00

Chetan Bhagat’s new book is a compelling read. You can classify it as an airport lounge read or an up market aunty read. Books need not be serious, it always need not change the world or the audience, but it could certainly do one thing, entertain the ones who chose to buy it. This book actually did. Rarely an Indian writer could make you laugh and I bet there were quite a few occasions were I broke into laughter and made the whole Barista gawk at me.

Having gone through a bit of the same myself, this rift between the clan’s (South and North Indians) portrayed in the book is extremely close to reality. I could add to some of these if Chetan might be interested in publishing a Sequel of the same. My Girlfriends family, accuse we south Indians of not washing hands after shitting, eating with bare hands and licking them from the elbow joints to the finger tips and last but not least making balls of rice and shooting at your own mouth !!!!!!!. My clan would say that Punjabi women are aggressive and would make me knead atta, will drink more than men at weddings and even beat up their husbands!!!!!.

We generalize a lot and Chetan has hit the nerve, though being of a same country we tend to kick each other based on color, traditions and the diversities within us. Good and bad are too subjective and comparisons often a futile exercise, if a life is what you are looking at then the only thing that would matter will be trust and understanding.

Two thumbs up for Chetan and the publishing house, the book is affordable and actually a good read, I could finish it off in a day’s time. Might be I would give a shot at his earlier books!!!!!

Book Review, Maximum City is just Quality Writing !!!!!

2009-09-23T22:53:00.000-07:00

After reading, "Shantharam" liking another book was tough, it's as good as you being compelled to be good to your step mother( Which I actually went through).Buying books on the streets will introduce you to all those hot selling potboilers, getting a sensible one out of those is like searching a needle in a hay stack. But I have learned the art to such an extend that I could read a book through it's cover ( This guy is a whole load of shit, if you are thinking like that I would not complain.) Maximum city was lurking somewhere at the background, with Shantharam feeding me with too much of mumbai, the break between the two books was healthy.

Suketa Mehta, brings out a no nonsense picture of Bombay, though it's not a fiction, Mumbais's facts are truely stranger that any fiction written till date. The narration about the riots and Shiv Sena, tells you the story of hatred and communal violence, moreover it talks about the fights a youth will take from the Slum to move ahead in life. Murder as cheap as 50 rupees, Dinners as costly as lakhs will bringout the irony of this infamous city, the City of Sin. The author succeeds in depicting the city as the city of poor, were they Queue up for toilets, a city were privacy is realy expensive, he portrays it as a city of dreams and dreamers ( Slum--> Chawl ---> One BHK ---> Two BHK in South Mumbai --> Green Card). Lives at different levels and the way they talk to the city, the way the city interacts with them, are depicted through out the book and one could see the city taking shapes and sizes.A democracy were the poor votes and the topics of campaining include toilets and food, is an eye opener for any software phunk who thinks that the country has moved ahead. The depiction of eight people living in a single room ( Mom, pop, brother, sister, granny)and the way they sync in giving each other the required privacy is just startling, adjustment has new levels here, sacrifice would be a better word.

Life in a slum has it's own advantages, the love,care and affection, the oneness among the people are simply startling. The book has been thouroughly researched and the hard work shows in every line that's written. It smells of Sweat, shit, the damp mumbai air, the book might choke you up and you will feel the city in your veins, hats off to the author and the co-workers, this is a must read. The problems in the city cannot be fixed by the criminals who are designated govt agents, we need corporate leaders, strategists and visionaries who could think out of cast, creed and sex.I hope some of our educated politicians read this, some of the corporate phunks read this, might be we can apply strategy and six sigma to fix complex issues like waste disposal / traffic and housing in a city like Mumbai. Writing a book might not be tough, but to write a book which touches lives, talks about facts and still makes you read it with passion is tough, cause truth seldom sells, and truth about mumbai people will runaway, as we do always!!!!!!.

About "Lean" / Quality at the speed of Light !!!!!!!

2009-08-30T04:01:00.000-07:00

Six Sigma was Exciting, not becuase it delivered results, cause of the complexities it could offer. The way it made you think, about the work you did and the way the output varies when hands change. Service Industry and Six SIgma are like distant relatives, Six Sigma talks about reduing variation, where in Service industry breathes on the fact that, things change, people and outputs vary.Might be that the methodology is effective but the way it was delivered was not right, or the people who delivered it came from a pile of rusty metal pieces (Manufacturing Quality Gurus).

Projects run on processes that are not stable, tools used just because they are supposed to be used, though known assignable causes exist process behaviour charts made with meticulous efforts, the methodology became a drama for me and just a livelihood for the key actors. Goal statements, as vague as "Improving Cutomer Sat on MS Vista product Series ", being such a big "Y", it sounds easier to take up a "Project to eradicate poverty in Africa". Project Owners show a blind eye to the part that people resign, hands change, Policies and buisness outlook changes etc.

But Lean, was supposed to be different, a methodology much more practical than, Six Sigma. With an open mind and lots of Enthusiasm, I attended the recent trainings. The trainer was too boring but Still I thougt the methodology was not. Somewhere or the other it talked about stuff which everyone who loved thier work would like to see working. "Cut the crap and do the job" was the slogan. The methodology spoke about avoiding sources of waste, through certain methods which was tested and had tasted success. About not doing stuff that you were doing currently cause the customer was grumpy / your leadership lacked balls, It spoke about avoiding work that did not add value ( Most of the meetings and Calls. The methodology sounded like common sense put up in powerpoint.

Implimentation part came, and along with it came the baggages. People who where intereseted in getting the PPT's in place, in getting thier data on time. Implimentors who never realized the importance of involving / Explaining the executors on what these meant (Jazzy presentations / Tools & Templates) / how would it help them in the days that come. Are we not interested in actual results, why do projects make very less impact on the ground, Is it because of the urge to put it up on the presentations. Lean can make huge impacts but for that we need people who can walk in with enough Charisma, who can drive and change Mindsets and Behaviours. People driving these initiatives, tend to spend more time answering thier Boss, than analyzing the ground realities, Filling in Excel sheets with data that has been populatd on the basis of educated guesses / Calculated risks. Does understanding the ground realities slowdown the project pace, then let it, cause the pace that we portray is vague, the impact the project would leave will be nothing.

Let's stop being hypocrats, let's do stuff so that the guy on the ground is benifited, not cause my promotion will be in place or my boss is pleased. Let's value the brains behind these methodologies and let's do it so that we learn and the change benifits the customer. Lakhs of rupees thrown away on these sessions must actually enable us to make lives easier. Here on the ground you sit back at your desk for another three hours filling in sheets and forms !!!!!!!!!

Swine Flu Celebrations !!!!!!!!

2009-08-17T10:50:00.000-07:00

“Aaaachiiii, Aaaachiiii ", (Stop, ask your mind not to search for a Dictionary word), a cute kid sneezed in the middle of a shop floor, predominantly a shop for the upper strata. She jumped into the pile of balls and the dust made her sneeze. The next moment she was in the lime light of the whole shop, everyone turned around, stared at her and the whole shop came to a stand still, she went back to play while everyone continued to stare, she stopped, again sneezed and the viscous fluid started flowing. The next moment, parents of the other kids came running and picked them up and ran back to safety (Some even had an expression; “I almost saved my kids life”). Our heroine in pink started weeping her mom in early thirty’s came running and lifted her up. The lady stared back at the crowd, a crowd which already had confirmed that this was the youngest possible H1N1 victim ever.

Though the kid did not sneeze after that, half the crowd walked out, the lady at the counter did not smile at the kid or her parent, instead tightened a two day old mask, which can spread much more dreaded diseases that H1N1. A reactive society at it’s best. Swine Flu has made things tough for a sneezing kid; Pandemic declared months back we decided to be careful after a few deaths and some hyped up reports on the front page. Reactive approach with a lot of aggression, aggression backed with very less facts, facts collected from vague sources, Pune the educational hub of the country responded to Swine Flu the Desi way, people believed that masks at the traffic signal is a life saver, shaking hands went out of the trend and “ Namaste “ was full on. Mails flying across workstations about the latest sensation, people checking websites for the latest death updates, Colleges closed, Malls shutdown and Movie releases extended, things changed, changed overnight.

Swine Flu season is over, people are back on the street, we would call ourselves, resilient, and the media even would come up with Photographs of kids going back to school with a caption “Nothing can stop them”. We belong to a country were people get killed in blasts, in floods, in road accidents, in epidemics like typhoid and malaria, here people die in riots, alcohol tragedies takes lives, calamities and terrorism kills people here. What is special about Swine flu that the government must take care of us, Actually Swine flu is nothing, it is better, at least a dignified death for a taxpayer, you die on a bed with your loved ones around. Your body is in one piece and last but not least your get a send off, even media would play a role (If you are the first, 25th, 50th or the 100th one, these numbers would be like a Silver, Golden and Platinum Jubilee). Life is good, until you are on your own, until you do not travel in trains (Bomb blasts), You do not drink water from taps (Malaria/ Cholera), Drive vehicles on the bumpy roads (Accidents) and Swine Flu has a new mantra for us, Until you do not breathe, until you step out of the home, and guess what we tried, but no choice could not sustain it for long!!!!!!!

Durga Temple, Joshi Wadevale and Hyderabadi House !!!!!!!!

2009-07-05T10:50:00.000-07:00

This Sunday, was Quite different, needless to say Sans music, Sans snooker and without those punks around, this Sunday marked a new beginning. I may call it a second Innings, Read a lot of Technical stuff through out the morning and put the brain to use after a long time, might be for the first time after 99, yes after those glorious school days, precisely March 15 1999. I jumped up from the chair and pumped my fists I could still recollect what I had learned in Trigonometry and also to huge extend Physics as well, the feel was out of the world, sheer joy !!!!!

To add icing to the cake, I decided to roam around the city , not M.G.Road, not to K.P or Camp but this time to a Temple, It's the temple of Goddess Kali's avatar and I would say it was mind blowing. The walk up the stairs, the calmness in the air, Kids running around, the flower vendors, just another world, where pleasure is long lasting, pains healed to a higher extend and Subconscious talking through the layer of a calmer conscious self. Climb up the stairs was not that tough but, the way up was kind of confusing as the steps lead you to one corner and then takes a steep turn towards the summit. The way up almost looked as if it was a park, could see couples everywhere, Some with Kids and some without. Kids added to the beauty, most of them for the first time realized that world is a place where they could run, Jump and fall down.I could see Kid's enjoying the most, flat's can only offer the 24/7 Security and a lift; but a childhood spent with nature Quite a dream!!!!. I remembered my childhood, with mom asking me to come out of the pond, then marching through the bushes with food in her hands asking me to have it there (It's fun to eat sitting on an Inflated tube, on the sides of a pond), at last coming to fetch me herself and after that the infamous hue and cry !!!!!. The Ganesha temple on the way up was another highlight, The Goddess was simply sensational, I sat spoke to myself and took resolutions, which might stay more than the usual Sunday swearing s !!!!.

With no plans and a cool head, I joined hands with my only partner till date, My Bike. Riding is fun and the weather made it a pleasure, The ride took me to "Joshi Wadevale", which I never saw till date, though FC Road is my second home in Pune. Vada Paav has a different version all together here, there are add ons and plug gins available other than the usual green chilly. I could not believe the fact that Even Vada Paav can be customized to this extend. Pune is vibrant, with a hep crowd, youngsters all over, you will never feel old here, but the City has it's own charm well above the hep and the "Yo" culture. Understanding takes time, I took six months ; so what , "I understood " and that's what is important.

ITIL - The Ticket Bouncers !!!!!

2009-07-02T23:46:00.000-07:00

Saturday Night, Heavy Music, Metal, Hard Rock what not, With proportion of Alcohol increasing in the veins, as the mind gets Mischievous, Fantasies grow wings, we see a bunch of men who bring us back to the ground, Our very own bouncers. This post is not about them, it's very much about work, the first time I thought that work must be a subject of Blogs, It turned me off. But looking at the Characters you meet, the people you deal with, the challenges you face, might be my perspective ; though presented in a crude way can make life easy for people. Mostly for those who work in IT support, Infrastructure or for those who follow the new Bible of IT organizations ITIL.

Incidents are nothing but the documented agony of a human being who comes to work, the agony when becomes an epidemic becomes severe otherwise remains what it is just another "Incident". Requests I would say is the user filling in forms that would grant him future agonies or agonies before even he gets the service. Imagine a user who runs around with forms, behind his manager, that too in the dark, he tumbles down, falls, gets hurt and at last gets the service. A well managed ticketing system, will get half the job done in an Infrastructure, with leaders believing that Remedy is actually a remedy for their issues, pushing messages to the resolver groups could have been much more easier.

People have their own ways of getting things done, a guy from sales and marketing would always call the desk and talk about getting the job done with in minutes ( Mostly a bargain), where in some one from Quality assurance would ask about what all processes are involved in getting the task done, Some one from IT would explain that it's just about pushing a policy into the firewall and the time taken for that is Excruciatingly high. Customers come with Expectations and these are mainly mapped to their domain and meeting all these without hurting any ones emotion's is the key, key to the business of IT Service Management.

Service Desk, the middleman is always compelled to play a diplomatic role, washing hands off before and after food and while doing the job is a common problem that we face on a daily basis. But that's what keeps us in the job!!!!!. If you sort words that will be used heavily and followed lightly " Ownerhsip" will be a winner, with the Silver Medalist miles and miles away. Incidents assigned to teams would come back to us like a rubber ball on the wall, comments ranging from " Working from my end check from user's end" , " Issue not with our team" , " Check with the network team, might be a connectivity issue" are common.Incidents / Tickets that would say why it is not an issue with ones team will be a rarity, those will go to a museum directly. (Framed and Worshiped)

To manage an Infrastructure right, the only thing the management needs to do is to monitor the health of the Core ITIL Processes. Count of incidents logged, closed, pending, missed SL, Team wise / Manager Wise will tell who is getting the job done and not. A daily call with defaulters would bring down user dissatisfaction to Zero. Incidents reoccurred daily / Weekly and permanent fixes if tracked will lead to Incident reduction. Capacity planning with Dash boards of user base per application, Usage in terms of Bandwidth, Time , Response times within the Lan and over the wan with proper inputs to problem team will tackle those Slow performance Issues. Changes raised by capacity keeping an eye on future incidents will tell us the Quality work done and would show on less number of Incidents,Example(Incidents which cropped up as another application was added to the agony of a already suffering database).SLA without OLA is like an "underwear without elastic", the vendors, internal customers must be accountable to each other, an environment where my job not being done will make me answer to 10 different people will bring Pro-activeness for sure.

ITIL processes are like a chain and a chain is only strong as the weakest link, for an implementation to be Successful, the processes must be reviewed as a whole not Individually. For Example a discussion were the number of Problem Tickets raised by Incident Management is reviewed, Number of Changes raised by Capacity team is taken into account (Capacity Dashboard pointing at peaks and lows of Critical apps), SLA missed is accounted on the basis of OLA's agreed, Changes raised and implemented as part of the Incident Problem Life Cycle are reviewed and evaluated will make an Infrastructure much more healthier. What most Organisations might be missing out will be this holistic view of this new approach , or are we promoting the Hindustani way of building walls between departments with the Slogan " Tu 13 Dekh ".

Service Management Where Love is War !!!!!!

2009-07-02T09:42:00.000-07:00

Sharad Pawar would not know what a bouncy pitch is, but he knows how to Run BCCI, Lalu Yadav never Learned Project Management, Cost Management or anything but he ran the Indian Railways, Ganguly never scored on the field but the team won the game over and over again. A world were people do things in domains that even their forefathers would not have Imagined. Welcome to Service Management.

If you think that to lead a fight, you need to have fought before,then my dear friends;Service Management will prove you wrong. To get the job done, you must have done it before is again a wrong statement, to involve in the Problem and to address the problem are two entirely different things. It's fun to hear words that you would not have heard in your entire life and act as if you are comfortable with it, It's fun when people who have spent their whole life working, sleeping on AIX having to listen to the "gyan" given by kids, who have not even touched the system once !!!!!!. Welcome to Service Management, the new heights of techno commercial, techno lingual career path. Man, Money and Machine are three aspects of any business. If you can manage the man, set his thoughts right, align him to the needs of business and deliver the services, that is what Service Management does.

Life takes it's on turns and I never knew the quest for a morning job will land me in a 24/7 job. Where Credit Management is subject to be learned and mastered, your efforts, if it has to be yours, even your sweat to should drop on the right carpets. Service Management is where Love is War. where you would haunt your colleagues and give them Nightmares. Efforts never Quantified, Results of efforts conceptual, Emotional and often tagged on people who are backseat drivers.

Being in the middle of Chaos being the key KRA, the only person whom you can yell at is your own image and that too if you have time to look at the mirror. Support groups wanting to resolve issues from the root, Process team wanting approvals to be in place, Technical Managers wanting the Logs' s and backup's in place, Restoring the services is like waging a war, were people tag you as a Pakistani, where in you are very much an Indian. Con calls starting from a professional mode, ending up in a kinder garden mode, Minutes of meetings getting forgotten in minutes, Processes moaning as they get raped over and over again, they will all take shapes and sizes in front of you.

Calls at the middle of the night, will wake you with problem statements close to titles of Bollywood Hits " Kuch Kuch Hota Hai" ( There is something happening ), Calls that will remind you of the Lokh Sabha and Rajya Sabha, were truth is a kid with no father and Problem does not have a mother, Calls that will make you feel confident that politics has a different level all together, might be Rahul Gandhi should use it as a test environment. From people who panic when there is a problem, from people whose calmness makes you panic when there is a problem, you can see a new world, where information passed and supplied makes you deliver and not deliver.Your hue and cry at the initial phase of an issue hits a world renowned IVR which every resolver group has " Our system is Taka tak", to by pass that " shamelessness " is the first qualification you need. Skin must have an ISI mark so that taunts do not go through it, were chauvinism of people are always shown to these nomads who own nothing but at the end of the day are answerable for everything.

Life goes on, Belief in the fact that technology will change, people's mentality towards work won't. The simple fact that technology depended business, cannot survive without this new breed, Managing technology has taken a new face, but be ready before you enter this,beware ; it is a one way road, Here respect is not on how much you know, it's on how much you can be diplomatic, Not on how much you deliver but how much you portray that you are delivering. Welcome to the Stickiest wicket I have ever played, May be it's Durban or Dubai, Pune or Perth, It's all about delivering when the fire is there !!!!!!

About Money and the Efforts !!!!!

2009-06-26T02:40:00.000-07:00

Pani Puri (An Indian Snack) might be the most complex of inventions in the food world or will top the list of complex dishes in any cuisine. Not that making it needs a lot of expertise But the number of components involved, the way it is served and the permutations, combinations and customizations possible will startle anyone. How would have one thought about making it? Inventing anything must be tough, Pani Puri no Exception!!!!!!

But this is not about Pani Puri or any other dish, this is about our people, the way they treat others, especially their fellow beings. On the way back from office to home there are certain joints were you feel at home, might be due to the chit chat with the street hawker, stall owner or the kind of people who hang around there. I have always had relations with whomsoever I dealt with, a personal touch, a mark that made the stall owner ask “ Kidar thee Sahib “ (Where were you), and the question would sound embarrassing when your stipulated time (7:00 pm) has been bypassed by just 15 minutes.

Pani puri, finished in a flash and then it was time for the Bhel (Another snack that is lip smacking) to be served, I could see a man in Dothi and a white shirt standing behind me. Holding to his hands was a kid, who eagerly wanted something to eat. His wife was scanning the menu card and was talking to her man on what would they order. White shirt was white just because it was 9:30 in the night and the lady looked too tired to lift the kid as well. I assumed they are coming back from some construction site, were this kid had spent the whole day amidst rumbles. My Bhel was on the make the stall owner had asked what they wanted at least twice and the second time it was quite rude, as if their presence degraded the standards of his Proprietorship.

The man ordered “Vada Pav “and some other Maharshtrian dish, were in the kid wanted something else. The kid started weeping and the spicy Bhel made tears roll put of my cheeks as well. The Man was waiting and in-between the stall Owner was rushing to cars and bikes which stopped there, asking this family to stand away from the stall. The kid’s eyes were lit up and she was peeping into what the “Bhaiya” was doing. The lady reminded the guy once that they had been waiting for sometime, the kid’s hue and cry would justify the same. Vada Pav was served without Chilly and when the man demanded for the same, the stall owner frowned and denied. The potato dish was served in a use and throw plate for them, while others got the same in a stainless steel vessel, that too with a smile. After the Bhel I sat on my Motorcycle just to watch the only war on this earth happen “between haves and the have not’s”. Throwing the plate on the road which is any Indian’s right was denied for this lady, she was given a lesson about cleanliness by the stall owner who had colored the wall behind him red, by spitting the tobacco that he chews.

The money earned by me or in reality anyone who ate there that day, would not have been half as hard earned as theirs. Why is that after a days work, back breaking work their money is not respected, why is that his efforts to keep his kid happy is undermined.
Why is it that we exploit people or show our aggression when we are sure that we will not be hit back??. I spoke, told that stall Owner about what it takes to spend 10% of the total earnings of a day to see the smile on his kids face. What it takes to be a husband who holds his wife close, with a kid on the shoulder, who walks back home with no promises to make, no hopes when the sun rises, but still holds a smile and with a simple but firm resolve tells himself “ I will never let them go hungry”. Our country is still fighting it out, not in Kashmir, not in West Bengal or Arunchal Pradesh, but in stalls were a common man is denied a steel plate, where he is denied respect for the money spend and also were rules matter only for the underprivileged.

About Origin,Roots, That Makes a Difference !!!!!!!

2009-05-10T21:38:00.000-07:00

A tired day at work, the walk back the steps to the bike park, Heading towards loneliness and the untidy bachelors den , adding insult to injury is the sight of a young couple with a cute kid at the balcony and your heart pounds for a family life, a life that makes sense. The morning next day searching for a washed pair of dress and stuffing up the burnt bread confirms the fact that a married life is the only solution, the way ahead for personal, financial and a disciplined life ahead. Life teaches men to compromise, Lying down at the window side, as the thought about married life seeps in, As it takes shapes and sizes, again the mind moves to another direction, Is that the only thing the mind does, to confuse you, or is that what you let your mind do, To jump from one decision to another.

Roots as always is the decision maker everywhere, running alongside life all alone is a tough task, and when you are not rooted anywhere you well can run, running is all you can do. There are two ways about life, one is to be in the ship and let the wind do the job and the second to be the sailor and take the ship were you want to. But I believe ship and the wind are just the to aspects, sailor is born free but in chains. Why is it that you are always just not what you are, why is that you are measured against your roots and the mistakes you commit, linked to the DNA. Is it that sailing through the ocean is easier if your masts are good, that the Ocean does not complain if you sail through and reach where you want , provided that you forefathers were sailors and the ship a veteran????.

What is that matters in the way ahead, a new beginning, erasing the past, easing you from the baggage, making your sail across, a pleasure. Winds have come down, my boat has reached the ocean. All the struggles one would take to get to the destination, I have gone through to get to the beginning, should I turn around, cut down the pace or should I get aggressive. The almighty has got you here and it’s you who need to take it forward and my decisions must only impact me, not my race, if it all I end up in a family web, their journey must begin at the Ocean and not at a lagoon, A lagoon which can challenge anyone much more than an ocean. The tough sail, I thought has made me cross half the way, the job, the money and the brand I believed has pushed me up, but I still remain looked down, sympathized and my ship which I thought was a ship is actually a boat and that too tattered and weak. People are sailing and moving ahead and me with a broad smile, reassuring and sealing the statement, I will F@##k this Ocean one day !!!!!. I hope the aim wins over the grudge, the emotion does not cloud the focus and the pace of the others does not tamper my heart, as it’s always said that “It does not matter who starts first, what matters is who finishes first “. I will finish this race, not for me, but for my roots, for my race, so that their heads are held high.

Now, you need that Womanizer !!!!!!!

2009-05-06T22:16:00.000-07:00

The name of this blog might be wierd, like the concept of the movie Dejavu, where everything unrolls in the last 10 minutes. But I am ecstatic about this 15 minutes incident. Girls are always a facination for an Indian youngster, half of his energy, at the peak time of his life, wasted around thoughts and fascinations about women. Me no different from the crowd, firm believer of the saying " A thing of beauty is a joy for ever".

Enough of intro, Let's get into the matter now. Another lonely day and the only challenging deed the ride back home, I thought having Idli's at my favourite " Idlicious" might turn around the day. At the corner table, waiting for the hot food to arrive, I suddently could see a blue denim walking across and asking me and I would say she sounded sweet, ( Obviously she must have !!!!! ). To glance through her from the bottom to top would have taken 10 seconds and the lion share spend in between :).

I ordered another south Indian Delicacy, spending time with her being the motto. "Vada" was tasty and her presence made it spicier. She had a dish, which is supposed to be sour, and spicy and was appreciating the feel of havig it. Brown and athletic she got the womanizer in me wake up and dance, and it made me order a cofee at 9:00 in the night, that too a strong one.

The converstaion went on between her and the guy accompanying her, the realization that she was his friend made me feel that the chances are still there. The coffe got over and it was time to move, I consistently thought of a way to get into a chat, but somehow refrained from doing the same. The damsel, picked her phone and called a hospital and enquired about an Ultrascan to be done for her, by the next day. The receptionist on the other end enquired about the reason for the ultrascan, here we go,all the castles built on air started falling down, "Ultrascan for Pregnancy" she screamed as if she wanted to cut through my heart using the pregnancy dagger. The guy next to her gave me a look, a look that would have said now move your ass out of here.

I got up and suddenly started laughing, laughing about my psyche, the thought process I had and the failure not to have evolved to a man through the years. Thoughts has to change, fundamentals need to be strong and the DNA needs to be edited. Life will go forward but the eternal journey, moksha will be hindered. Intentional life again is a concept far from being implimented !!!!!!

Goal, the one thing that can make you great !!!!!!

2009-04-24T04:11:00.003-07:00

There are times; your mind slips away, for reasons unexplainable. For reasons that would not qualify as reasons, pains without wounds and tears that kind of bleeds. Life looks tough and deeds meaningless, as if the exciting walk towards death has slowed down and the torture prevails. Stimuli and response does not have a difference at this phase and the mind just asks you to explode, the execution is done with such accuracy that all the senses are turned off and just the Ego is on, Kill that ego, the daemon and you win!!!!!!

Is there a way a man can actually mend ways, “Will power“I have heard is not about with standing pressure, climbing mountains or reaching heights, It’s about denying yourselves a chocolate when you have decided to diet, It’s about learning a topic until you master it, It’s about having control on your eyes when you are along side your girl friend!!!!!!!

Searching the wounds is a big task, without knowing what to fix, fixation will be an issue. The demands of the external world and the needs within are often regarded different, the needs within are to be mapped to the demands outside. Decisions taken to change yourself, resolutions that has been run over, a hundred times which itself is capable of telling you “Hey you going to kick me out in another day”. Inspiring moments which makes you take these resolutions, raising questions, quite Valid though, “Will this inspiration last, if it lasts will it live as much as the resolution lives “????

Keeping yourself Inspired is a tough job, the toughest ever. Might be focus on a single goal and the work towards it can get the job done. Every bit of success keeps you pumped up and failure makes you come back, and the journey of life becomes easier and fruitful. A few lucky bunch never thinks on these lines they live, they laugh and leave one day, a few are aligned to certain instincts by birth they sing, dance, play and fade away one day as if it was magic and the rest we mortals who search for that goal, get stranded, get on the track every other day, just to realize that we are off track again, we go round and round.

Might be having a goal and not having one is the difference between, being great and not.

Love Stories Busted !!!!

2009-04-09T08:01:00.000-07:00

When the phone rang at 12:00 in the night, from a number outside the country, I never knew the same would have been a moment much awaited by my Chilhood friend. Abin would have even searched the bowels of his memory or I believe would have hired professionals to hunt me down and get My number !!!!!. But he did it, and decided to spend 50 Indian Rupees on me, Quite high to his spending Standards. Being the bully of the gang I always had a gut feel that I would get back whatever I am giving !!!!.

The moment, I woke up from the " Manager Haunted Sleep " courtesy Asim Mehra my X manager, I could hear someone laugh, laugh his guts out. My hello's and attempts in different Languages made no Sense, the Laugh was emphatic, It signified a victory. The laugh ended and I hoped to hear this Alien Introduce me, all he said was your " First Love is getting Fucked Now". Then my job started to think who is he reffering to, affairs was common, heart breaks BAU !!!!.

Abin then settled dwn told me that the heroine of the most accalimed Love affair of my school days has officially being married. The girl is enjoying with her partner now, thanks to my taunts and bullying at school days, the news came from Dubai.

Love affairs at school are fun, when you turn around and think, Getting kissed and explaining the process to your freinds, who get calmmered under the stair case listening to the spiced up stuff , gives you the elevated status of having felt a woman!!!!!. Our gang had initiated the process for Abin with the heroine through me, Being a born Marketeer, My gang believed in me getting the project rolled out.Sadly, Instead of Abin, the chick chose me, there started the Affair which continued for the next Six years. The hidden meeting at the construction sites of the school, special classes that never happened, tears rolled out during vaccations, Money stolen from fathers pocket to call her up, The girl at the phone booth who acted as her friend an affair is a Drama in Itself.

I laughed at Abin for his ethusiasm for calling me up and taunting me, he was the most tortured soul during my school days and the torturer " Mr Deepak ". The call ended and I again went to sleep, but a pain remained, will remain, does not matter how much ever you laugh, you talk about practicalities of life, Love does not leave hapiness when lost, getting into it must be a very thoughtfull act. At school, you love and get loved for the no reasons, you do not bet your options and choices, future and needs are not evaluated, you love for the sheer joy of falling in love. People grow and so does the evil, the system teaches them to compare, evaluate and do the weeding, I was weeded out, but my love, Hey thats a joke !!!!!!!!

About Terrorism and All that Crap !!!!!!

2009-03-03T23:38:00.000-08:00

Read a book, quite a sensational one, which will make every human being look into himself and find out wether its life worth living that is being lived !!!!!. Intentional Living is an aspect that is seldom explored, we are logs of wood in water taken by a current from places to places, Intentional living is about swimming across the currents,Cutting through challenges and getting to the destination which kindles the light within your soul, which makes you live. For that we need a cause,a direction, an ambition which makes us put a fight, and Mortenson had one, Quite a big reason !!!!!!

"Three cups of tea" has awakened me more than any beverage that I had till date, not that we all can contribute to humanity the way Mortenson does, but the fact that the sheer thought of contribution towards humanity itself is a distant dream. " Islam is the best religion and Muslims are the worst followers " is a funny quote that I had heard quite sometime back, Mortensons experiences in Pakistan especially with illiterate and conservative muslims tells us that there are only these religions on this earth, the rich and the poor, the priviledged and the under priviledged,the survivors and Victims, Benificieries and the Exploited.For a teenager in tough terrains of Northern Pakistan, terrorism is not by choice its by force.Education is a luxury and Madrassas the only place to look up for any kind of formal " Education". Mortensons fight to get education in place for girls in Paksitan, is a much better fight that Americas war on terror, A fight which has meaning and sense, a fight which aims at helping a society to reach out to the world. This American getting justice in " Shariat" the most conservative muslim way of delivering justice and that too against powerfull religious leaders in Balti and Skardu, reflects the Quality of Justice system in the most dreaded parts of this world.

More inspiring is the way, this Ex- Mountaneer, Sleeps in the car, saves money and tries to get closer to his dream.For us the mortals, even for our selfish needs sacrificing the present for the future, always remains a challenging task.Shells that we fire against Pakistan, does not hurt the terrorists and the fundamenatlists, doesnt get to the Musharaff's and Bhuto's, all it does is to make a bunch of people homeless, kids fatherless and thier future hopeless.

Everywehere on this earth,there is only one war that is waged, the war to keep the strata of this society alive, the war to ensure that a bunch of people remains who could be exploited, a bunch who remains dependent on the upper class, A kwan which ensures that the life of others is easier, though thiers continues in misery.Every war, every struggle is waged at the cost of the poor, the blood that is spilled,does not get accounted under Jehad or under the Saffron register, It gets registered in the hearts of the families who loses thier sole bread winners, under wounds which leaves scars for a life time. I love Pakistan and the people there, Why would I fight a tyrant thousand miles a way, when there are thousand tyrants for me to fight a mile away.

My good bye mail @ Microsoft !!!!!!

2009-02-08T06:45:00.001-08:00

Hi Team,

It was an amazing run, one which can give a man confidence to turn the world upside down. All the assignments that I had taken till date, from a re-training batch in IE7, to an SDIP team of close to 100 and last but not least the Vista backend, I had tasted success, Success which makes me indebted to a big bunch of people.

I would like to take a lot of names but would limit it to a few, John Samuel who inspires everyone by his punctuality,Vijay Chellappa and Rishi for their indefatigable dedication, Amal for keeping his foot to the floor even at that level,Chenna and Praveen for the practical perspectives they have about the work and the business, Nithin and Madhan for the support and friendliness, Manesh and Deepak for choosing me to handle the backend, last but not least Arul for being the manager he continues to be.

At this minute, am distressed about the fact that I am moving at a time when everything looks the way we wanted,“ Vista painted in green”. I would proudly say that I played a role in the team who fixed Vista, and in this note would like to thank Sriram for being supportive and to have allowed me to try things that I wanted to.
I am sure, I would miss this crowd, the liveliness and the energy, the reviews and rigor and the whole team. I would look up to the company for the fact that it gave me a career and wish the team every success in future endeavors.

Regards,

Deepak.K.C.

Career, Money, Designation, Roles and All that Drama !!!!!!!!!!!

2008-11-21T05:30:00.000-08:00

I have arrived; the chase for money is over. Not that I have hit a black hole in my current role, career or I have called it shots on what am doing, but After climbing the ladder so fast and reaching the top, I now feel that the ladder was against the wrong wall.

Money was the criteria, dragged into a non typical Indian middle class circumstance, especially in an orthodox Brahmin family, were walking out of the house without an engineering grad is a crime, career was by force and not by choice. With enough brains and marks to support, groping in the dark for the next step ahead. With little money and lots of commitments, with lots of pride and lack of prejudice, with a brittle family and a brave heart, I wanted a job that could help me study and give me a push. Was the first offer letter that I got “my choice”, was that moment of Joy, that took me to Chennai a mere flash in the pan, On the contrary if that moment wasn’t there would I ever be blogging, flying from Jaipur – Chennai , business class.

“Money is not everything “, the statement never made sense to me, at 19 with looming financial problems and debts, for me money was the problem solver, the divine agent, the fix. I decided to give it a chase, to take shortcuts, to get what I wanted, my divine agent. Overtime, Shifts, Health was always regarded as excuses of spoiled brats. Employee relation, Job satisfaction, Work Culture was terms that never clicked, the divine agent kept me going. Like a log of wood in water, like a kite without direction I chased pay cheques. “I am a pay cheque player “. Does money give you a choice, after an endless chase, do you actually get to make a choice. Now that’s a question that needs to be answered, for all the youngsters out there, the answer is might be it does, but the real answer would be “chase a career you like and money will chase you”.

Not that I own a Merc or a three bedroom apartment, Not that I fly business class every day, Not that I dine at the Taj or Leela but my chase for whatever I wanted is over. A home in my village, an address which I never had for 23 years, three time food with no tensions of debt and collection agents, Lee, Levis and Nike to wear, A cute girl to hang out with, that’s all I wanted to do with money. To watch a cricket match without being forced to switch channels by a step mother, to go and watch a movie first day first show, to wear 5 different dresses a week, I always had to fight for the simplest of things in life, and fight became a part of life.

Today, I realize that I can go far and beyond, tearing apart the blanket of money, breaking the shackles of growth and designations. Not that I forgot where I walked in from, but that I realize life is much more than money and designation, that I realize that work is life and not a part of life. When 60 % of ones life is spend at work, the choice of the career must be as important as the choice of a partner. That a Pay Cheque is worth until the 5th of the month, until the “Milkwalla” is paid, the cable and telephone bills are cleared, the rent and food is taken care and when all this drama is over, you have with you, around you and within you, the work that you do, the people who surround you and the inner satisfaction it gives you. I will search, get where I want, as I have the luxury of thought, the power of choice, though I had to fight to get to the race, I will still run the race with all the heart, as in Jerry Maguire “I am all heart Mother Fucker!!!!!!”.

Handle Time Reduction !!!!!!

2008-11-13T21:36:00.000-08:00

For all you folks, Who are convinced about the fact that a BPO job is just about talking English, Wearing Denim and having fun, Let this post be an eye opener. A tech support job for the North American segment, is a tough as being a US envoy for India - Pakistan Dialogues, Especially if you are supporting a product which is a proclaimed loser in the market.

Handle time or Time to Resolve is a metric in any tech support centre, there are processes where handle time is the only metric. Customer yelling at the top of his voice, Operations team poking you every five minutes to finish the call, SME giving you suggestions ( which would have been tried in another OS which he supported ), Team leader showing his face as if you are doing a crime by extending the call, The tech support agent is definitely on a sticky wicket.

Now the million dollar question comes up inside the conference room. How do we reduce the handle time ??????. Here we go, speculations, Half cooked suggestions, Assumptions, Everything other than a solution pops in. People from Manufacturing Industry ( Six Sigma Experts ) would walk in with Laptops and Slides, with projects run on highly unstable processes, Will claim that its cause of high hold time, Lack of on call documentation, Less tenure that the AHT is high. ( As if we don't know.) The senior manager who would have walked in with a Hotel Background who has never handled a tech support call or would never understand the technicalities will pass on sermons about reducing the handle time. The operations team who really know what has to be done, either would not be listened to or would never be consulted about the problem.

Ideas must move from the floor to the conference room and decisions from the conference room to the floor. Here Ideas, Solutions and Decisions, everything is done within the four walls. What I would say with my tenure is , " Hire the right people ". Hiring a undergrad for a high end tech support process is like asking IM Vijayan to play in EPL. Train them right, don't hire them for a Credit Card selling process and then pull them into tech support cause they speak well. Communication skills are good , but in a tech support environment the guy must talk to the customer about technicalities not about the last move he watched or the date with his Girl Friend. Retain people, Loosing people every six months will leave your Handle time problem Unaddressed. Train people on technicalities, not just on the product ie If your an ISP train him on networking basics, not just " Ping " " Ipconfig " and "Power cycle ". Teach them fishing, don't give them a fish to eat. Listen to their calls, Increase the sampling plan initially, Let the quality team not be the " Transaction Monitoring Team ", Let them know what the product is, Let them be capable of giving inputs on the product as well. Let the on floor training be done by agents on calls, Train them on Top Call Generators, Let them try the steps they ask the customer to do.

Let's not push AHT to the agents, Let's push probing skills, Let's push typing speed, Let's talk about technicalities, Let's not give them scripts, Instead lets give them scenarios, Lets talk about tools and their usage, Lets empower them to get there rather use our power and drag them there !!!!!!!!!

Just for Dada, A real Leader,Motivator, Maker of the modern Indian Cricket team.

2008-11-10T05:02:00.001-08:00

Looking at dada walking out from the stadium, I could see my youth, my energy, my passion for the game cricket walking away . Tears rolling down my cheeks, Heart pounding to new heights, I knew this moment is the end of my Era in cricket, All the greats I worshiped are walking off one by one. Dada an emotional being will be the most inspring of captains Indian cricket has ever produced. Not just for the fact that he was the most succesfull but for the fact that he dared to experiment, Fearlessly backed the new kids, Sopke what his heart said and Led the team from the front. Who would dare remove his shirt and swing at the lords, uttering words which conventional India would take another deacde to utter. Dada made success more coluorfull and memorable than any other captain, He pumped in emotion into the viens of the young Indian team, With fire in the belly and a heart filled with emotion Dada created a brand new team which feared less about clinging on to the team, which feared less about the oposition they played, the venue the game was played. Dada brought in moments that had an attitude, that murmured somewhere at the background that " We have arrived, the new face of India ". He gave the message loud and clear that the new band is Outspoken, Plays the game with directions of the heart and will not compromise when success is the factor. When Australia crated " Rouges ", Dada create a bunch of heroes who are rouges when it comes to dealing with rouges.

Dada is a classical example of a leader, Every leader must be emotional about what he does, Must support a cause and back people he belives in. Being emotional, people say is Idiotic. Any job thats getting done well, isnt getting done well NOT cause of the knowledge, expertise or a process laid. It gets done because the people who does the job are involved in it. They feel that thier role is important and thier leader cares. People who are well led are well led cause the leader belives in the cause and once you belive in winning for your country, removing a shirt would be the least you can do, when your team chases 300+. Dada has brought joy into our Lives, has made us cry, has made us belive that come backs are not easy but definitely possible. The image of Dada walikng into a Dusty Paddy Field, for a Ranji match ( With 7000+ runs in tests and 10000+ in one days ) makes me feel ashamed about the fact that I crib when am made to do a Managers Job were in am designated to do something else. Form is Temporary, Class permenant, Dada was classy on the filed, off the field and as always he will remain the prince not only of Calcutta but of modern Day Indian Cricket. Good Luck Dada, Hope we all see more of you soon !!!!!!!!

At 24 I would have made fun of Gavaskar, Shasthri or Srikanth, whom my father loved. To my kids :- Dare utter a word about this man I will have to make you join a BPO !!!!!!!!

Jokes that blew up ma Mind !!!!!

2008-04-01T20:08:00.000-07:00

Americans, I would say are a bunch of sweet hearts, they arent arrogant at all about thier ignorance. They would yell at you, abuse you, take you for a ride but son; the moment they know that thier problem is getting resolved you know what, they would say
"Honey,Son,Sweetheart "( Conditions on call apply) Its not against you, Its against Micheal Dell, Its against Bill Gates or Its cause I lost my temper which I shouldnt have.I would define americans as a bunch of people who would apologize if they did something wrong, appreciate you for the smallest thing on earth that you did for them, Screw your happiness if you play around with them.They are far better than our British comrades who are Sarcastic, Rude and at times are excruciatingly arrogant about thier ignorance. Another big thing about the Bitish is that they still belive that they rule the world and every word of english that we utter is taxable under thier law.
I would quote some of my funny experiences ; The first one is about our very own Brit who does want help but feels that asking help from a brown guy doesnt suit his stature. As usual our hero calls up for a high end technical issue about changing a scrensaver and for the initial question asked, comes the reply " You know what, I am not the usual customer you talk to. I just forgot how to do this particular thing, otherwise am a techie. Just tell me what to do and I will do it ". The tone and the rigidness of the voice gave me a feel that yeah this guy might be a programmer and might be he never does all these silly things. After the initial set back I decided to go forward and ask him to " right click "on his computer, You know what, off comes the next question from our Charles Babbage version 6.2 , " I am a left hander what should I do ".

The above one shows how much can a tech support guy get tortured when he deals with these heroes who never admit that sun has started setting in thier empire. An american by the by is really cool, he would easily come up with an issue that his coffee tray isnt working anymore , or he would say that the coffe tray doesnt come out any more. The support agent would ask wether he received the coffee tray along with the computer or is it a part of the computer and the customer would say a yes. Then begins the search of the millenium; google is of no help, Internal tech docs doesnt say a word about a coffee tray, sales team says that no complimentary items other than printers, memory cards and scanners have been shipped. The agent runs in search of his Subject Matter Expert who hasnt come back form his 90 minute smoke break, Team Leader who doesnt know a thing about the technicalities of the product ( He is a people manager ) and also asks his team mates who would laugh at his fate. At last the agent would get back to the customer and asks how does he get the coffe tray usually and our beloved customer says " It comes out from the tower not from the TV". Agent understands that the coffee tray is attached to the CPU, the next question brings into picture that the coffee tray comes out from the top part of the tower and a light glows when the button is pressed to take it out. Agent would ask whats written there and here ends the search of the millenium " Samsung CD-RW ". The customer after understanding that the coffee tray is CD Drive apologizes for the inconvinience and you know what we say to those customers " Happy Realization "

" Quality of life "

2008-03-17T18:07:00.000-07:00

"QOL" Quality of life must be a new term for most us, but a term that must turn heads around.The term must bring in a lot of sense for our crowd who earns a substantial income but rarely finds a way to spend it the right way. Whats quality of life when you don't sleep more than 6 hours a day, whats life when a Sunday evening is spent with an American, making him dance to the tune of right click and left click, whats life when rendezvous with food is an accident and good food a miracle. These are the questions that usually comes up when we discuss the much hyped,americanized BPO lifestyle which Indian society is still finding hard to digest.

Are we really struggling, Is it that bad ???? I would say a big blatant " NO ". We are enjoying our life, having a Gala time. Here are some generic statements that are made : They say the industry would shut down and the career is insecure, we ask then what career is secure. The job is monotonous and you would get fed up soon, If you don't reinvent yourself everyday any job is monotonous, May be Beckham or Sachin might have a different version. Call center is about picking calls and going home, We have seen the best of the talent loosing faith after their initial call. Night shifts aren't safe for girls, as if in the day light they receive appreciable treatment.

Some facts that make sense are : Night shift cuts of your social life, to a huge extend yes. Health issues would be there for people who don't take care of themselves.Your market value for loans, marriages and credit cards goes down. High probability of receiving step motherly treatment from your own family if you have a sibling who works for an IT company.Society again the judge in the case of every Indian; gives a verdict that the job is temporary and never be loyal to it.

Certain funny instances, Major one happens after you introduce yourself as a manager in an MNC, often we would use terms such as Process re engineering, Critical support team, Tier three support etc for an impact and at the end your fathers colleague would end up asking in a tone which would receive a Nobel for sarcasm " Oh that Call Centraaaaa ". Another incident which I would like to quote is about the security of female employees. Certain companies ask the male employee to take the last drop after ensuring that every female employee reaches her home safe. Poor guy would see his mom standing in front of the home waving her hand but cant stop because of the " Huge Responsibility " on his shoulders.One of my friends had to spend almost an hour and half extra everyday to ensure the safety of his colleagues, annoyed one day he asked the transport team to send a security guard. Transport head in front of fifty odd employees started a lecture on brotherhood, team work, social responsibility etc which ended with this million dollar question " After I drop all the female employees , when am alone in the cab and If the driver turns out to be a Gay do you have a provision to protect my a#$% , or it doesn't matter at all ha ???????