October Quota

As can be guessed, I sheepishly post on the last day of this wonderful month in which I was born around 24 years back in order to keep up my promise of being a regular blogger (my first post suffering from a constricted flow of creative juices)...

Lot has been happening over the last month...As they say, Second Term at B-School is different from the first in that you get accustomed to the routine..I have gotten used to sleeping at 5 and waking up at 9.20 for classes at 9.30...I improved upon my record by waking up once at 9.31 and was in class at 9.34...Funny thing is there is goddamned competition everywhere over here..I had a race with 2 more buggers but overtook them thanks to my long legs...One was very obviously disadvantaged due to his bulk, but unfortunately that is how sad life is...Thankfully there aint no relative grading for attendance in who comes at what time to class, else the scene might have just got dirtier...

One more oft quoted refrain is that you would gradually realize where you want to go in life over these months..I can promise and swear that I have absolutely no bias towards FMCG Marketing or Supply Chain Management or iBanking (whatever of it is left over)

I am open to all..

I am here for the learning, not for the grades..Sigh! 

1/6th MBA

Back home for my first term vacations..As the nick says it am 1/6th through with this course..

Lotsa pleasant memories from the first 2 months at IIMI. Notable among them are:

1) I could finally balance my B/S :D ...(This new method taught by Prof Kanagaraj is too cool..You put an entry here and you put one on the other side..Presto! B/S is no more BS

2) Organizational behavior is a wunderffful subject and the only one where you dont need to pre-read (Its a different issue that there are no marks for CP and interestingly the one subject that generates the maximum CP )

Many events coming up over the next term starting off with the Indore Marathon on 2nd October 2008. If you are around the area, dont miss it!

Go here to register for the Marathon -> www.indoremarathon.com

Adios!

First IIMpressions

Ok..I wrote this after my first 2 weeks here at Planet I. Did not get time to put it up here.. Apologies for not posting it earlier...Lot of things have changed since then..But that will follow in the next post...Until then, here it goes..

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As I sit down and pen my thoughts, I realize that it has been over two weeks since I landed at my home for the next two years; a home that chose two hundred and thirty-nine souls, and me, to share two significant years of our life. Adventure it was for all, relief from the mundane ‘Indian IT Male chasing feline dreams’ existence for many and excitement and apprehension it is, for all. Two-lakh people dream of being here for a plethora of reasons ranging from potential matrimonial profile upgrade to getting closer to striking distance of those wonderful astrononomical gazillions that are thrown by those phoren iBanks. I am no maverick and wouldn’t claim the non-existence of contemplation along these lines at some point of time over the last few months. I sure could do with the former, if not the latter at least, though under ideal circumstances I would like to believe that I am entitled to both.

Alas, these fancy dreams of mine have been periodically shattered like those brittle and little taxed beautiful virginal bones of mine after every Physical Exercise and Yoga (not for World Peace) session starting every morning at 5.15 am sharp over the last one week. This process of induction for the incoming batch has been painful but necessary. It has brought about a sense of camaraderie among the suffering few who cringe under the cold Malwa winds of early morning and perform calisthenics like turning to the left and discovering your right buttock (Trust me, for a guy less endowed at the posterior, its an even bigger headache) to the tune of the Yoga Master. The oohs, aahs and uffs, periodically interspersed with sh@# and other 4 letter words, which I am not sure I remember correctly, helped one realize that the fight against exhaustion, crickets, red ants, bees (giving us constant company) and sleep was still on, and far from over. It was here that we learnt our first management lesson – the importance of patience under duress and teamwork.

Not two hours later and off we go towards the Classroom Block after grabbing a sandwich or coffee from the Mess, though lack of time or home-conditioned taste buds would convince a few to give it a miss. Point to note over here – if a class is supposed to start at 9 30 am, it does start not at 9 29 or at 9 31, but at 9 30 only. Professors arrive at least 15 minutes in advance and load the presentation and case to be discussed for the day on the system in front and spend the rest of the time counting seconds on the big digital clock hung on the back wall of every classroom. No one is allowed to enter the classroom after 9 30 and there are no excuses. Another point to note – classrooms are designed to give Professors a strategic viewpoint from the front and students sit in places allotted to them based on height and eye-power. Sleeping in class is thus a very tricky affair and seasoned veterans have been finding it tough to evade attention. There have been a couple of martyrs already and Professors can rip you apart with sarcasm which takes time to appreciate (especially if you happen to be the subject). Three sessions of seventy minutes being the norm here, it is also imperative that our concentration is at peak level. Active class participation (ACP) being a factor that is harped on at every introduction class by the Professor has unleashed a hitherto hidden inquisitive mind in all the participants, right from day one. Theories, counter-theories, analogies and eloquent dissertation rule the roost in an intellectually charged atmosphere. If not anything, I can vouch that ACP is trying hard to expedite the transition from AL (Appreciative Listener) to DCP (Desperate for Class Participation) for many of us. Here we learn our second management lesson – It does not matter what you know, if I don’t know what you know. Speak up and thou shall be heard (and acknowledged with better grades hopefully!). Surprise quizzes, assignment submission with strict deadlines and presentations are also constant companions in the life at a B School whom you cannot divorce. Not a week has gone past and we already have had two Quizzes (Microeconomics and Information Systems) and a couple of presentations on Business Communication.

Within the first few days, I realized that life here is not restricted to what has been described above. In fact there is more that happens outside the classrooms than inside. The official induction program for the on the first day had the Director of Boston Consulting Group as the Chief Guest for the evening and it was an enriching experience for all present. The very first day also helped me get acquainted with many seniors who are courteous, helpful and down to earth. A dozen interest clubs like Theatre, Quiz and Oratory, and an equal number of professional committees ensure that there is at least one event happening every night. In addition to this, there are planned as well as impromptu sports competitions held every now and then. The PGP 1 vs. PGP 2 competitions have already been announced and practice is due to start any time. Not to be left behind, the professional committees like the Marketing, Finance and other clubs organize events and Guest Lectures from the corporate world fairly regularly. Within a week of being here, I realize that it is virtually impossible to participate in everything. Choice is key as we live in the ‘Hillock that Never Sleeps’. The third management lesson – Choose wisely, to be in the right place at the right time.

“Come here for the experience” was an often-heard phrase during interaction with seniors during the pre-B School phase. After spending a short time here, I can vouch for this. The experience sure could be better if it culminated with goodies mentioned at the beginning of this article. Two years to go and it sure looks like to be the most significant years of my life.

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Bah! The lack of time..

This is one claim that is justified if your a B Schooler...

Few things to be done today:

1) Quiz on Legal Aspects tomorrow..

2) Should do preliminary research on my Presentation on Legal Aspects

3) Talent Night is on Tonite..Final rehearsals at noon and main event at 10 pm

4) To balance all this entertainment assets, have to start working on the biggest liability of all - the subject called MAC (Managerial Accounting and Control)

5) Pre readings for OB, QT etc etc etc

6) Catch up on sleep

Its a tough life out here. I think ill choose Option 6 for better work-life balance...

ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz............................

The Indian Institute of Management

Whoa!

What a place! It is all I expected it to be and more...

My first week at IIM Indore is just coming to an end. It has been hectic to say the least. The assignments, quizzes and case studies have not yet started in full swing, and all here are just getting the hang of it..However, what keeps us awake until 3 am in the night every single day is the sheer experience of being here...The late night walks around the circle, cricket under lights, meeting up so many new guys and interacting with the seniors makes sleep the least important thing on the mind..For a guy like me to whom compromising those 8 hours of sleep were blasphemy over the 23 years of my life, this is an unbelievable change...The average per day has been 3-4 hours..

P.S: Hope to keep posting as often as possible from now on..

Dasavatharam....

Err..I sure am late in watching the most awaited movie of the summer (Not speaking of Kuselan which is Thalaivar's offering for the masses coming up soon) - Dasavatharam! Kamal is acknowledged to be the finest that the country has produced (barring Shivaji Ganesan maybe, but I dont like his theatrics personally) and anyone who has seen Michal Madana Kama Rajan or Avvai Shanmughi would expect, without an iota of doubt, him to produce a swashbuckling, breezy and easy performance. The ulaga nayagan does not dissapoint - none of the roles appear labored. Infact the potrayal in a few avatars is so convincing that one starts counting and plays a Spot-Kamal game at times - This is especially true of the 95 year old Paati and the Japanese brother of Yuka - the Karate expert babe.

The story, screenplay and direction is by the master himself and it shows in every frame. The settings are top-class and there is not much time spent on frivolties. The stunt sequences deserve a special mention and look probable for a change - unlike in say Vishnuvardhan's Billa which looked like a cheap Matrix rip-off . The pace of the movie never lags and no normal movie-goer would ever have an attention-slip at anypoint of time during the 180 odd minutes, barring save some parts during the first half.

When someone plays 10 damn roles in any movie, it is but expected that he would eclipse all other performances. More so, when the guy doing this is Kamal Haasan. As such only Asin (played by Asin herself and not Kamal) and Mallika Sherawat (with a lot less cleavage on show for a pleasant change) had some kind of screen presence. Both disappoint but to be fair, no one takes Mallika to be a serious actress in spite of her "towering" screen presence. It must have been a surprising change for her from the usual kissing, cleavage baring, pre/post/extra marital sexual infidelity type roles that come her way. She must thank puritan south audiences and over-zealous political activists (double role of Karpu Guards) for making sure the screen stays clean. It is Asin, out of whom audiences expected a lot after Ghajini, who disappoints. Playing Kamal's lady-love sure has its negatives I guess - she doesnt make any mark and was an irritating presence during the second half. Seasoned veterans like Nagesh did not get time to do justice to their calibre. But hell, when you have one guy playing 10 roles...Jayapradha does a good job though in the limited time that she is on screen.

Some observations I made during the movie. The dialogues (quite evident in the second half) smell like out of a Singeetham Srinivasa Rao/Crazy Mohan flick. It does not require you to be a stud to figure out that these guys wrote scripts for Michael MKR, Kaadhala Kaadhala etc which had Kamal in them. Kamal has tried to bring in that type of humor into this movie through the character of the RAW Officer - The Andhra Kamal. Not quite rib-tickling and top class, but it sure is nice and funny at times.

I think Kamal as Chris Flethcher (Ex CIA) is the best in the movie. Would rate the 12th century role as second best. A comparision with previous movies by the legend is inevitable. Me thinks that Dasavatharam is a very good movie. But it did not have that big an impact on me, post movie. Not quite the level of Anbe Sivam or Nayagan. Imagine this guy pouring out all he has got in not 10 but in that 1 role.

Definitely worth a watch. Talks of Superstar doing not 10 but 20 roles in one song in the next movie. The clash of the titans begins this summer!

A Trip to Singa-pura

Aloha! Am back after spending 4 days in Singapore...Had limited access to internet over there and so here I am posting my experience :)

About 4 hours away, Singapore is by no way an exotic foreign locale. On the contrary, at most times I felt as if I was in India..This applies more if you stayed at Little India

After a lot of dilly dallying got ourselves booked into the The Albert Court - A Far East Hotel
A pretty decent place to live in and most importantly close to a lot of Indian restaurants (Ananda Bhavan is just around the corner)..Walk onto Serangoon Road (about 50 mts from Hotel) and you have Komalas, Saravana Bhavan and Mustafa Center further down...The best way to book is to try rates at different Online Hotel Booking Sites - Tripadvisor gives good reviews and for bookings try asia-hotel, asiarooms, hotels-online and expedia . Try calling up the Hotel also to confirm rates (i did not have much success as they advise you to book online). If you are particular about vegetarian food, live at Little India.

I took a City Tour on the first day and did a little bit of shopping in Little India. Went the next day to Sentosa Island. This is not to be missed and is probably the best holiday spot to visit if you are in Singapore. You have 2 options to enter the Island - one by Cable Car from Harbor Front Tower 2 or take the Sentosa Express from Vivocity. I took the MRT from Little India Station to Harbor Front Station and then walked across to Tower 2...Lotsa good deals on the counter there for Sentosa - You choose the kind of rides/places you want to see and then choose the best Tour Package - Each costs approximately S$ 60...This would include 2 way trip to Island by Cable Car and entry tickets to those particular rides in the package...Do not miss the 3D cine show and the Underwater World....No Indian food at Sentosa - So pack stuff to eat there (Thanks Padma :) )...Another good ride is the Luge - you can showcase your driving skills here..Me did some Schumi like overtakings and brakings to end up at the Finish Line a cool 5 mins earlier than my parents...Got into a vantage position to shoot a pic of them coming full speed around the final corner and dug into my bag for the camera only to realize it missing...After some 15 mins more of tension and frenzied searching of bags I was in the Aiyyo Nasama Pocche mood and trudged back to the counter and started telling the kid over there about my precious Canon which was no more mine. After patiently listening, the kid turned around, bent down and retrieved my camera..I guess we had left it at the Counter when getting our tickets..Realized why this was such a successful and favored tourist destination (Singapore prides itself on the low crime rate and extreme penalties - For instance, playing around with the MRT emergency buttons can land you a fine of S$5000) ..From the Aiyyo Nasama Pocche mood, I turned pensive and waltzed to the "If this were India and I had misplaced my camera" mood...

The third day was spent shopping..The places you should not miss are Mustafa Center and Sim Lim Square. Both are within walkable distance from the Hotel at Little India...Mustafa is a hell of a big super duper market which stocks everything from exotic condoms to rare gem stones. I couldnt find the need for the former and did not have money for the latter. So me restricted myself to shopping all in between..No bargains at this place. The electronics are clearly more expensive than what you might find outside (Sim Lim etc)...Good buys - Luggages, cosmetics, watches etc...Got myself a Seiko Chrono, Altec Lansing 2.1 Speakers and some other computer accessories...(Note - If you have a relative whose coming down from the US, catch them for a much better deal)...Went down next to Sim Lim Square as I had read a lot about if being a haven for digital cameras and the likes...The mall is pretty impressive with well stocked shops...One thing I couldnt do was bargain - I am not a bad bargainer and I had read a lot about bargaining being the way to go at Sim Lim..But hell, everything seemed to be fixed here...One thing you can do is make sure you collect the Handouts from different shops and compare prices...I did not buy a digital camera here although I could see a lot of shops as I couldn't get the best deal...It is still about 3-4 k cheaper than India for an above average camera...The night was spent at the Night Safari - a popular destination for tourists it being a night zoo. No comparison to Vandalur Zoo in terms of varieties of animals, but in terms of cleanliness and presentation - they represent two ends of the spectrum...Why don't we learn the good things also from the West (or East in this case) ? Vandalur to us is one big picnic outing - Pack a lot of puliyotharai, vadam and curd rice (enough to feed half the species over there), balloons, cricket bats and footballs..Squat right in front of the cage and feed the Tiger the molagai pieces from the puliyotharai and throw stones from the safe confines of the other side of the cage...Not wanting to lead this kind of a lifestyle, every damn tiger would love to get its H1B processed and move on to San Diego or Singapore..In fact the tiger I met at Night Safari gave me a friendly wink...Hell :)

Spent the next day lazing around, little more shopping at Mustafa and arrived at Changi Airport a cool 5 hours in advance..An amazing place by itself, the Airport is itself worth a day's visit..Spent a couple of hours window shopping in each Terminal (Also bought a couple of tees at the end) and then boarded the Indian Airlines flight back home...

Back to business - have to catch up on sleep :)

Life at Chennai and the all the good things...

After living here at Chennai for the past 8 years, the last 26 days do seem to bring about a lot of memories. There is a certain peace that hometown nostalgia entails you to enjoy and I shall indulge.

Adolescence is an impressionable age and I lived through my peak hormonal changes here; schooling at DAV Gopalapuram and getting myself a Electrical and Electronics Engineering Degree from SVCE. Being a Day Scholar (Dayski) during under graduation robbed me off what would I believe is a sure-fire growth accelerator - Hostel Life. Thankfully, it looks like I would have this for the next 2 years of my life at IIM Indore.

Some things I would miss leaving Chennai..

1) Sathyam -> The favorite haunt for all the movie-lovers. I think my first movie here was Gone in 60 seconds. Hell, it was amazing watching those cars and I did not know who Angelina Jolie was.

2) Saravana Bhavan --> You have to give it to them. Overpriced though they are (which might change soon thanks to Kalaignar), the 14 Idly soaked in Sambhar is fabulous. I believe Rathna Cafe is a close competitor but I have not had enough opportunities for close culinary evaluation.

3) Maasilamani Street Kayyendhi Bhavan --> I cant call it the poor man's Saravana Bhavan as the last time I was there, they looked badly in need of Valet Parking. In case you have not been here, it is off Pondy Bazaar (Road adjoining Music World),. Devout hygiene fanatics might faint looking at the Kitchens but the Podi Dosai and Onion Oothappam would surely revive them if they gave it a chance. For the record, I have not heard anyone whom I have bribed, cajoled, threatened etc to accompany me falling sick after eating here.

4) Sweet Chariot, Ispahani Center, Nungambakkam --> Long since I have been anywhere close to Ispahani but this place used to be much more quiet, cozy and comfortable than its neighbor Coffee Day.

5) Fruit Shop on Greames Road --> One of the few good Juice Shops. Has some good neighbors in the Area like Frankies etc. The lime-mint cooler still costs the same 15 bucks it used to ages back, beating Inflationary pressures. The nice guys who would never kick out a bunch of blokes whiling away time on a 2/5 Lime Mint Order.

6) Marina Beach --> Does it need a mention. The pride of Chennai. Boy would I miss the Bhajjis or what :---(

I am sure I have missed a few...This is a city that is unique in many aspects..Anyone who has spent time here will understand what I am talking about. As far the others, Atithi Devo Bhava..Come down sometime and experience it for yourself....

The Walk - Part 4

The shrill bell broke my reverie and I glanced at the clock on the plastered wall. The nurse had been late for the third time this week. “Not much work today anyway”, I thought to myself inching towards the door on my crutches. The everyday ten-minute walk in the park had become the most dreaded part of life for the past few months. The most irritating part of the task not being the physical exhaustion or the constant drone of encouragement from the nurse, but the ignominy of having to bear the stares of all the other people. Making quick progress I reached and opened the door readying myself to lash out at the undependability of nurses and I caught myself staring open-mouthed at Goyal and Sudhakar.

The banner saying “Happy Birthday, Mr. Yugendran” stood staring contemptuously at me. I started inching towards the front, one-legged, and on my crutches which would never be stolen from me. Kids started clapping, and elders followed suit. With tears streaming down my face, I started moving faster and faster towards my goal – the front row. With every passing second, the rhythmic beating seemed to get louder and the pain in my leg started to ease until finally, I felt nothing, save the hot tears on my eyes.

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1) I had written this way back and not done a preliminary research either I guess ( I mentioned I am a lazy bum somewhere). So you have to forgive the technical error with gangrene etc. Have not edited from the basic draft I made in 2004.

2) Formatting is screwed in my blog. I guess I will have to learn quickly to enhance readability :(

3) Thanks for the patient read ;)

4) I might be accused of being maudlin etc with this. I promise a raunchy sex thriller sometime later. Keep visiting.

The Walk - Part 3

Water tastes sour with coagulated blood mixed in it. I had opened my eyes to a few bare-chested villages towering over me. Never before had I seen such genuinely emotive eyes. I looked around and saw the Nayak family lying a few feet away seemingly unhurt. Sudhakar and his wife had cuts on their faces and what looked like glass jutting out of their legs. The Goyals were being pulled out of a window, unconsciously. Meanwhile, the Nayaks were now being lifted and put into a waiting auto. I closed my eyes and felt a strong pair of hands sliding beneath me. I woke up with a jerk to see a smiling fifty year old man close to my face. I turned my head around and saw people, the Vasans and the Chaturvedis being pulled out of different windows, their bodies a bloody mess. I never know what overcame me at that moment - whether it was pent up fury at the sight of so much suffering around me or a love for mankind that I had possibly inherited in my genes. I motioned to the people lying around and those neighbors still stuck inside the ill-fated bus. The village initially confused, understood my request. Setting me back on the ground, he moved towards the Goyals.

The auto-driver drove eleven full trips to the Hospital, 5 kilometers away, with tears in his eyes and pain in his heart. When the last trip with my mutilated body was done, he had made his last trip on that eventful night. The two night-duty Doctors, completely exhausted, had decided to take a short nap and had to be shaken awake after my arrival.

The Ambulance driver had been on a holiday and the fifteen year old vehicle had refused to start.

My left leg had to be amputated as gangrene had set in. "Maybe a couple of hours earlier", mused the Doctors.

The Walk - Part 2

The coughing and spluttering of an auto well on its painful last days stole the dull monotonous quiet prevailing in the area around the shamiana. Men from the group moved towards the auto and greeted the emerging occupants – an ominous Mr. Goyal and a white cloth rolled on short and stout wooden pole. Ramu started carrying the pole towards the tent followed by the elders and a few kids who had now materialized, with a seriousness that was not uncharacteristic of him, nevertheless melodramatic. Held high over his head and with people looking solemnly and respectfully, it resembled the journey of the Olympic torch.

I grew up this in a picturesque town with colorful people during my first fifteen years. Padma, the Hospital Sweeper who took the motherless infant as a godsend to relieve her of the drudgery in her life was the diametric opposite of the Gurkha. Somewhere in between lay Mr Patil, the Headmaster of the Corporation School who thought I was the brightest boy in class; Lingam, the sweetmeat seller who gave me a free Burphi everyday and Shyamala, mother's colleague whose dosas I could never forget. Years flew by and when I was fifteen came familial discord with the arrival of a long -lost drunk husband. Why the rightful head of the house had turned back to re-establish marital accord was not a question asked. How a fifteen year old who had been longer with Padma than he could have no ownership was esoteric. Mother cried when I left.

Ramu was now indisputably the center of attraction. He had dug two holes with an iron crowbar and started unfurling the cloth banner with the flourish of a Houdini in the making. "Maybe it is some anniversary celebration", I thought to myself. Bored with the proceedings of which I was no part, I moved away from the window.

Promising Mr Patil solemnly that I would come back within a few years and return his three hundred rupees with 5% interest, I set off. Along with the money, I had one set of clothes, three dosas packed by Shyamala and a locket around my neck bequeathed by Padma on my eight birthday. "To protect you from evil and envy", she said mystically. I wondered who would be envious of me.

I reached Coimbatore within an hour, minus two hundred and eighty rupees (as the kind soul had in a fit of righteousness left me with the ticket and change), dosas and clothes. Left with the locket and a used ticket, I got down at the Central Bus Stand with two dozen people who hurried about with some goal in sight. I wandered about the place for around 5 hours begging for work. While the tea-stall owners shooed me off, the well-dressed tried to conspicuously ignore me which was more infuriating. All I earned for the five minutes of pleading was a casual slow-motioned shifting of feet. Few men relented after sometime and glanced at me shaking their head in mock misery while the others moved away as if chased by an evil leper.

Growing up in a village with a roof over my head, under the caring eyes of Padma was different from the city as one had to be on one's toes always for fear of losing the sleeping space and the locket. Months passed and I was lucky enough to be adopted (unofficially again) by a restaurant owner who was impressed by my village-like diligence to work as he called it. The sharp brain in my precocious head was duly discovered and I was sent to school. Years passed and I never failed the old man. Relocating after his death to a new place was both painful and necessary.



No one knew exactly how we hit the oncoming truck. I woke up to a dull ringing in the ears and a numb sensation in my limbs. I stretched in a bid to wake my jaded self and get the circulation going, but felt a searing pain in my left leg. I let out a groan of agony and tasted blood in my mouth. The scene in front of me when I wiped the blood from my face was revolting - the entire bus lay at 45 degrees to the road and bodies lay twisted and gnarled in between iron bars and mangled seats. I glanced to see what was left of my half-torn leg and howled in distress. The metal support bar below my seat had cut through my left leg. Clasping what was left of the seat in front, I tried to get up gritting my teeth. The mild exertion sent fresh waves of pain and I fell back unconscious.


Suman Goyal, the President and Sudhakar were now walking towards the apartment.

The Walk - Part 1

Having lived up to my promise in my first post about being a slow writer, I am back..

This is something I had written in November 2004. Found it in some remote corner of my hard disk and decided what the hell :)

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The eighty- by eighty room with uncared for a bit of a not-so-old rosewood furniture set strewn around was in stark contrast to the street outside the apartment. The rug on the floor flaunted tea stains and patchwork. Dirty towels and underwear hung proudly on a nylon wire connecting two adjacent walls asymmetrically. As far as the animate occupants of the room were considered; spiders, moths, cockroaches and lizards had a field day in establishing base. There seemed to be no territorial dispute. Food and water were available in plenty, thanks to a leaky washbasin. The animal kingdom was in flourish.

Less than thirty steps away, the entire street had been cleanly swept for the first time in many years by Ramu, the community appointed sweeper (that, being debatable because he had started to accompany his dad, one of the Corporation sweepers since he was a kid). The years of hands-on experience wielding the broomstick was not in any way an indication of his talents, as, for most part of the Sunday afternoon, he just stood gazing at a single speck of dust, the rhythmic to and fro motion of his broomstick being the only indication of his conscious state.

Mr. Vasan often joked that Ramu had worked too long with dirt and dust to develop an unconscious liking and feeling of pity to unseat it from its place of rest. The kinship developed was mutual as the dust refused to leave its chosen place of rest in spite of repeated entreaties by Ramu’s broom.

“O Podu” blared the speakers as the adrenaline-charged teenagers at the front danced to the asinine tune with indefatigable vigor and ferocity; each kid hopelessly trying to imitate the neighbor and only succeeding in confusing the one next to him by paralytic twists. Mothers meanwhile tried to encourage their wards vociferously; only succeeding in irking other mothers who felt it was their parental responsibility to encourage raw dancing talent. “O Podu” soon faded into the cacophony of hysterical mothers and confused fourteen year olds who were left to dance to the tunes of the women.

A big shamiana had been erected the day before in the park on Ramaswamy Road. Balloons and colored paper was littered about and the whole place bore a festive look. Kids were having a field day running around the support-poles of the shamiana. Not far away, half a dozen adolescent girls stood watching in eagerness, undecided about whether they were too old for the kids’ antics, as they were supposed to act as young graceful women. A few of the elders, Sudhakar, the Secretary, Jayanth, the Treasurer and a few other men from the Colony leaning on the wall appeared to be in serious discussion.

“Nothing like carefree childhood life”, I thought watching the fun and frolic in front of the bus bringing me quaint memories of my own childhood. Born in a 3-bed Corporation Hospital in Kannur, a village 50 kms from Coimbatore city to Kanaga who passed away within few minutes after releasing me into this world, life was far from being a bed of roses. Hurdles and subsequent desperation drove me to become an acknowledged cynic, a non-believer. There were never taunts. People were much too busy to bother about the un-threatening urchin. The “Who are you? Where are your relatives?” looks I got in plenty. How my mother landed in the Hospital while in labor, no one could explain. To the Gurkha, the pregnant lady in labor who was nowhere around one minute earlier, was lying outside the gate the next. The poor illiterate soul suspected the hand of the supernatural. Unfortunately he could never confidently pinpoint to whom - God or the Devil had conspired to torture his soul. I was thus never picked up and cuddled by the Gurkha, a small man with a big and luxuriant mustache. He always seemed to maintain a safe distance with me, sequestering me as an indelible stamp asserting the supernatural's late night foray into Kannur village.

My interview experience at FMS, Delhi

So one fine morning in February of this year, I took a flight down to the Capital to meet up with the folks at FMS :)

Came out of the Airport and being the smart and lazy bum that I was, ignored the advice of friends on Pagalguy and walked confidently out into the road, only to realize that this was quite different from namma Singara Chennai - No autos on sight. After few minutes of cribbing on my lack of foresight and unwillingness to accept the fact that Prepaid is the way to go at Delhi, I started walking purposefully towards a non-existent vehicle in the Car Park. Few strides later, I managed to secure the services of an Autowallah who pulled me into his 3 wheeler which had already been inhabited by 2 aunties and 1 kid. After some intelligent maneuvering (and hard braking at Traffic Signals causing momentary dislocation), I managed to wiggle my bottom and secured a rightful space for the Rs 100 that I had agreed to.

After roaming around the shady Paharganj area near the Railway Station for some time and haggling with some hotels and disregarding others which had names like Hotel Mount (All amenities offered, I believe) I bargained myself a "Super Deluxe" Room at a place. Small nap and I was all set to leave. Followed the orders of my friend again and chose the Delhi Metro, which was very nice, and landed at DU.

Few hours later, some 10 of us were called in...

GD Topic - No one studies for an MBA, everyone studies for a job..

Started off the discussion. Came in twice later. Pretty decent discussion although we ran out of steam after 7 mins. Would rate myself as average here. Could you have made some better points.

Panel - Dean, Male prof and Female prof

Extempore - Tall men make better husbands - im around 6.2"

Had starting trouble. Started after few seconds..Spoke about some genetic differences among indians and westerners, diet etc resulting in low heights..Din make much sense really...Thought of a superb point at the end but they were done listening to my crap..so had to stop...Would rate myself below average..

MP: So tell me Anand, what do you really think ? Do tall men make better husbands...
P: Not really yaar. That movie of that tall husband bacchan...
MP: Yeah Laawaris and smiles :)
Me: Smiling..I really don't know sir.Probably they can have an eye on their wives always
P: Can you name some ads in which there cast tall men usually..
Me: Nothing comes to my mind sir..
P: Tell me what you are wearing now and their brands..
Me: My trousers are from peter england..shirt is from venfield..
P: Who owns peter england ?
Me: (thinking) Mayura Garments (it was Madura Garments..just couldn't think straight)
MP: Mayura ? Answer is close..but not Mayura..think again
Me: i don remember sir...i think its owned by the Birla group ultimately
P: Which birla ?
Me: Im not sure sir..
P: Ok what else..Watch ?
Me: I don wear one sir
P: Boots..Belt..Pen..Tie
Me: Boots by bata..Belt and tie by globus
P: Tell me about globus
Me: Its a chain..owned by Raheja group..I don know how popular in the north...but stores in chennai, blore etc (Wrong - they do have stores in the north too )
P: Raheja is actually based out of Mumbai..Tell me more about it
Me: Ok...Spoke about the store - doing good..multiple brands different price categories etc
FP: How many calls do you have
Me: B and I
FP: what %
Me: 99.37
P: If in college, someone dint like you..what aspect would they be bothered about
Me: Are you asking me about my weakness ?
P: Not necessarily..What would they think..
Me: Probably they would say im a little aggressive
P: And what positives?
Me: It also happens to be my strength. I do work well in a team..Listen to people..Have demonstrated this quality in college etc..
MP: There is a group of people in your office and they don't want to talk to you at all about some problem. What would you do?
Me: The first thing to do is to sit back and analyze the root cause of the problem. What exactly is the problem. It cannot simply be a personal prejudice against someone as it would not be in this case of a labor issue which involves many people. After finding that out, see what can be done in terms of giving possible concessions etc ..No one would refuse to talk flatly.
MP: When you stepped into FMS and in this room, what was the first impression.
Me: FMS - the red building caught my eye. This room - 3 panelists with the Dean..Could have been more creative..Silly me!

MP: Thank you..Thats it

Me: Thank you sir...

And the results a week later - I was through, but on the Wait List...

Haven't gone about checking the Wait List status as I wouldn't be taking it up now..

********************

The profession that stands out..

IT, what else?

Was engaged in one of these very interesting conversations with a colleague I do know well (So it was rest assured that he would'nt embarrass me by talking JSP, MQ and Perl Scripting. In fact, this is one of the criteria on which potential kinship is evaluated by both involved parties when one of the parties in question happens to be me). He had just been on a short vacation down south to potential Tier 4 IT destinations which happen to be villages and was amused, flabbergasted and humbled (in no particular order) when he met up with this modern farmer (MF)

MF: Hey there dude!
He: Whassup buddy
MF: Oh gawd!!..Dont even friggin ask..The last production drop from heaven has been screwed to the core. We may have to decrease our reliance on the team up there and start considering
other vendors..
He: Tough luck mate! If you dont mind me asking (And before you raise your eyebrow in displeasure) how are you able to make ends meet
MF: (Letting loose a philosophical rant) Life has no boundaries..Ends are but illusionary..What are the means..
He: What do you mean?

Phone buzzes..

MF: Holy shit! Have you really moved me from the Bench to a Project? Thank heavens. I will be at office at 7 am tomorrow..

Some talk on the other end..

MF: Absolutely..I have spent the last 2 years waiting for exactly this opportunity. This project is best suited to tap my core competencies. In fact, I have spent every single day working out theoretical solutions for this product at home..

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply.

The birth of this blogger

This has long been coming. In fact to be precise, it has taken 5 years.

I claim to love books, proclaim proudly that I have been reading for quite long and have tried to bring in as much variety as possible in my reading.

Make no mistake, it was not for any hidden wish to emerge one fine day as a literary genius par extreme, hitertho undiscovered, that I resisted so long in penning down my thoughts on a regular basis.

I am a slow writer. Period.

Some Facts:

1) I have been ruminating on possible names for a blog, a theme and other accouterments for close to 4 hours now.

2) I have spent 10 minutes after writing the last line thinking about what to write next

3) Now I wonder if I am suffering from an acute case of Writer's Block. The only thing that confounds me is that to claim thus, I have to first prove myself to be a writer.

4) I wonder how people blog on their GPRS.

5) The only consolation after careful consideration that I gleefully will accept is that I probably suffer from Blogger's Block (If at all there is something thus) - Hell, I have written short stories and love letters right from school. You have to blame the latter for not giving me the confidence to pursue publishing the former.

Now that I have breached the 18 line barrier, I shall refrain from pushing myself any further. As they say in Tamil,

Alavu minjinal amuthamum visham - In excess, even the life-perpetuating Nector is poisonous