<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321</id><updated>2011-10-11T01:24:41.231+05:30</updated><category term='Life at IIMI'/><category term='Short Stories'/><category term='GD/PI'/><category term='B School Interviews'/><category term='General'/><category term='MBA'/><category term='Travel'/><category term='IT'/><category term='Chennai'/><title type='text'>Reflections - Dil Se</title><subtitle type='html'>Stepping aside for a moment from the fast-paced journey called life to ruminate on the happenings in and around; my pit-stop to spew out straight from the gut and to share experiences as someone who liked his books, movies, music, sleep  and freedom, until he 
came to B-School...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-9130354886763627853</id><published>2009-05-24T16:44:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-05-24T18:03:37.820+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'>The Month That Was..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;An eventful month has passed by since my last post.  Most notable amongst them (events) being &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;1) The electorate (or whatever fraction of it is not disillusioned enough to curl up in front of the telly watching the media give second-by-second &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;we-predicted-so&lt;/span&gt; updates and does cast their vote) giving a decisive victory to the UPA and Dr Singh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;2) The markets hitting the upper circuit on &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Golden Monday &lt;/span&gt;and the media proclamation of investor wealth skyrocketing by over 6.5 lakh crores in a minute&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;3) The ultimate demise of the LTTE and Puli Prabhakaran &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What do the above have in common apart from the month of their occurrence? Its not hard for any layman who follows the news to connect the second event to the first. After all, every news channel with its experts assiduously educates the masses of political stability, the reduced danger of the Left, continuation of reforms (very subjective and will get to this shortly), FII capital  inflows and investor confidence in India's fundamentals.  The reason why the Congress won more than the expected number of seats (average prediction of 180 odd) is not quite as simple and can be only be partly be explained even on a case-by-case basis for every state as each had its own dynamics of voting. A multitude of factors have worked for the grand old party of the country with its entourage of psychophants vociferously claiming it to be Rahul's coming of age (all of 37) with his dimpled cheeks and mass mobilizing political acumen. It is ironic to note that the stage is all set for him to becoming the next PM in the near future of the country when we are yet to hear him speak anything of significance on issues (mobilization of youth and their increased participation in politics sounds best in movies like Yuva and RDB but lets get back to reality). So why has the BJP - the only forward looking democratic party in the country got a drubbing of sorts (even from states where it holds power and does good work like MP)? Why has the party which initiated and executed the best of infrastructural reforms and framed trendsetting policies been sent back to warm the seats of the Opposition? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lack of focus on ground level issues like food prices, inflation, taxes, fiscal deficit, taxes, terrorism?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Inability to fill the Vajpayee void as someone who could rein in the RSS and BJP?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Modi, Sushma Swaraj, Rajnath, Jaitley - The choice of the leader is obvious but unfortunately we dont have a unified chain of command and dont operate like Italian mafioso eh?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The market response has been however as expected after such a solid drubbing. The potential for growth in India is so immense that its not difficult to observe what is happening. The country is at a crucial juncture and is poised to consolidate its position as one of the power houses in the world (best performing stocks across all emerging markets as calculated through MSCI Barra indices). Government policy being one of the most important hurdles for business and infrastructure development in the country now expected to reform (relax), one can hope for better access to capital in the near future. The prices of L&amp;amp;T and BHEL  stocks are thus no surprise (And I wish I had enough money to buy).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;With the demise of LTTE, the war in Lanka and civilian deaths comes to an end. So does this post. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-9130354886763627853?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/9130354886763627853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2009/05/month-hat-was.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/9130354886763627853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/9130354886763627853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2009/05/month-hat-was.html' title='The Month That Was..'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-6463637933682788446</id><published>2009-04-26T15:00:00.011+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-26T16:01:23.757+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'>Road Rage, Creativity and License</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Independence, free country, democracy, 21st century, my space, free will....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Oft quoted popular personality in college says that regulation is the best initiator for corruption in the country. Nothing very pontific about the statement at first sight. Always having been forced to live a life of denial we can get nasty when let loose and run amok over roads, rules and people. I have been driving those imported (at 200% customs duty) Porsches ever since I grew my first pimple and boy, I don't really give a fuck if I crash into you insane kids trying to cross Marine Drive at the signal. Why don't you guys sympathize with me? There are so many horses under the hood that you aint ever gonna see in your life and you telling me I shouldn't push them for all their worth? Road kya tera baap ka hai kya madarchod ? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ban on on-smoking? Whose this Ramadoss to tell me what youth infer from my on-screen exploits? Has he ever visited any Hospital and met up with those docs working at the ICU who smoke all the time before and after any operation. It calms their nerves. It gets my creative juices flowing on screen. I transform into a new character and the audience love it when I flick that ciggy on to my mouth. How dare the government dare to infringe on an artist's territory? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Screw the rules. We live in an independent country. We can say whatever we want to, write what ever (arbit) shit that we want to (intentional or otherwise) and do what ever we want to. All it takes is some recklessness...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;P.S&lt;/span&gt;: A hurried post at the close of a shitty week...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-6463637933682788446?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/6463637933682788446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2009/04/road-rage-creativity-and-license.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/6463637933682788446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/6463637933682788446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2009/04/road-rage-creativity-and-license.html' title='Road Rage, Creativity and License'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-1569291148373956175</id><published>2009-04-19T11:58:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-21T23:04:38.457+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Short Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'>A New Day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;She was unlike most women he had befriended before. He had always been taken in by strong women and she was no less - that unique mix of flamboyance tempered with the rationale of Indian abstinence, arrogance towards the ineptitude of men and society restrained nevertheless with a respect for sensitivities and acceptance of idiosyncrasies, and a fiery passion for independence was the most potent aphrodisiac that could tantalize his senses. Samir was not a complex personality and his dislike for such a representation of his self - an outcome of his inability to avoid the double entendre and express appreciation was not as evident that he would have liked it to be when he thought about it in those moments of nostalgia that he tried hard to occlude. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;It was half past five and he had taken longer than his usual fifteen minutes packing. He looked around the room that had been visiting for close to three years now ever since he took up his new job as Sales Manager of South Zone. He had lived in better places than Hotel Monarch and although Madurai had better offerings, he had developed a close relationship with the Hotel Manager Shambu who had gone out of the way to make his short stays comfortable so much so, that Room 312 was permanently reserved for Samir. "Best room in Madurai Saar" he had proudly proclaimed while taking up Samir's luggage in November 2005. More than the spartan decor, it was Shambu's pride that had genuinely amused Samir as he gently offloaded the night bag and laptop on to the bed and fiddled with the dial on the old BPL TV. When Samir threw the door to the balcony open, it was not difficult to imagine why this room was special. The view of the Gopuram was spectacular, and situated at the right height and distance, it offered a fantastic view of ancient architectural splendor in all its glory. The lighting  that night was spectacular and the festive spirit of the season was captivating. The drum beats and naadasvaram was mildly audible in the background and Samir started smiling involuntarily. "Best room in Madurai Saar. Marriage season favorite honeymoon room" prompted Shambu handing the remote to Samir as he took leave. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;********************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;Like so many things in his life, meeting her was inevitable and he knew it right from the word go. They were dreadfully alike which was partly explained by their similar backgrounds and they were a powerful couple when together. They did not need to compliment each other, because they possessed the same measure of everything in their personalities and they were the kind of people who could take away any gathering by storm due to the intensity of their being. What one thought, the other understood and conversation between them was minimal and restricted to a few words. To any careful observer it was a show of ethereal understanding between a couple and it was always unnerving yet captivating for Shambu to observe them from close quarters. He seized every opportunity to serve them even if it meant personally carrying water to Room 312. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;"Both of us will check out tomorrow morning" said Samir entering Monarch that night at 8 p.m.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;"How was the darshan Saar", enquired Shambu trying to detect if they had really enjoyed the trip into the city. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;"Very good, Thank You", he said and she smiled approvingly at his choice of the place, route and driver for their evening. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;"Anything else you would require for the night Saar?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;"No. I will settle all bills together tomorrow if it is ok with you" replied Samir. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;"No problem. Good night to you two" beamed Shambu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;They took the stairs as usual walking side by side with many pairs of eyes following their graceful exit from the foyer, each looking to be deep in thought. They entered the room together and she immediately walked out to the balcony to watch the ceremonies.  The festive season was officially coming to an end that night and celebrations had attained peak fervor. Samir followed her and they stood together for close to 30 minutes waiting for the ceremonies to end and the procession to start. The moment was an involuntary trigger for both of them and when it came, they were naturally prepared for it. He looked at her and they smiled at each other as they entered the room hand-in-hand. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;It was a night that they would never forget. Never had both been so spent and when the early morning activities in the temple started again they finally closed their eyes for the day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;********************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;"When will you be here next Saar"? quizzed Shambu as he zipped his overnight bag shut. "Should I get some breakfast packed for you?" he continued without waiting for an answer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;"Breakfast will not be required Shambu. You take care of yourself and your family. Here is my card with my personal number written on the backside. Please call me when your daughter is getting married ok?" said Samir. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;"Sir, I will call you as soon as I find a suitable boy. But when will you be coming here next" asked Shambu, anxious now at the quantum of words being spoken by Samir. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;"I will come here to attend your daughter's marriage Shambu", said Samir smiling at him like never before. He was done with Madurai and could never get himself to come to the city anymore. "Never again unless unavoidable" was not something he wanted to tell the Hotel Manager who had been his friend for the last three years. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;He returned a smile at the Air Hostess at the Security Gate who had recognized him from the many past journeys in the same route. It was a short trip to Chennai and he hoped to get some sleep when airborne. It was a busy day tomorrow and he wanted to set some aggressive targets for the next quarter. He drifted to sleep thinking about the wonderful time spent and people he had met in Madurai over the last three years. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;********************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;The mild jerk when the pilot hit the brakes of the Embraer Jet woke up Samir. The short nap had done him more good than he had expected and he began to realize that the Madurai chapter in his life was well on its way to an end. Neither did he feel remorse or pain, nor did he feel any vestiges of anticipation at the new challenges that lay ahead in his new role and a new city. It was almost as if he was conditioned for all that had happened over the last three years and it was something he felt uneasy about. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;"Would you like anything else Sir?" asked the Air Hostess, poised alongside Samir and helping an old lady with her cabin baggage.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;"Not really. But thank you for offering" replied Samir before moving on to deplane leaving the Air Hostess staring at his back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;As Samir walked down the foyer of Terminal 2, he switched his mobile on and started reading the messages that he missed over the last hour of travel. He quickly replied to most of them in his traditional cursory way and instructed his staff to make bookings for his travel over the week. If there was one thing he found amusing about air-travellers it was their impatience in receiving their checked-in baggage. The fastest people to rush into the Terminal were ironically the business travelers who determinedly found their way to the front of the Baggage Belt, only to wait for the longest. As if in response to their eagerness, the first baggage to appear on the belt was the holiday travelers' big bags and to add salt to their injuries of having been ignored in-spite of appearing earlier at the Belt, the baggage suddenly stopped spewing luggage. The rhythmic motion of the empty decade old Belt unnerved a few of them and one of them started opening the flap of the Belt at the entrance and peering in to hurry the Airline Staff to process their bags faster. Frantic activity like this for retrieving luggage unnerved the rest of passengers who started hissing and cursing the Airline who charged a premium but acted low-cost. The animosity towards the Airline started brewing as minutes ticked by and the premium travelers started using the most premium of abuses vilifying the parentage of the owners, promoters and airline staff who operated the Airline as a rundown brothel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;Samir started sipping his coffee a few meters away watching the scene in amusement as the the belt next to his started humming. An announcement for the next flight followed and Samir jerked in anticipation. It was a flight he was waiting for and would have done so even if his baggage had arrived on time. He quickly finished his coffee as the travelers from the latest flight started pouring into the Terminal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;The sensation was there as he come come to realize and expect. Her presence was always obvious to him even before their eyes had met and physical proximity was no precursor for their meeting. It was a strong force that bound them together and the locus of this magnetic influence on each other was as reserved for them as it was incomprehensible and inexplicable through thought or words. It was just moments before they visually met and whenever it happened there was a rapid exchange of emotions that preceded and expended the need for words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;She walked down slowly and determinedly with each step measured and calculated, constantly looking at him and talking to the person next to her mentally processing two different streams of communication. He continued to look at her understanding most of what she was saying but missing out increasingly due to the other thoughts that were going on in his mind. He finally broke conversation with her and glanced to her right, looking at her companion from college days, the person who had helped her reach where she was - someone whose encouragement, love and maturity was paramount for the stability that had been brought to her life and she loved him like she loved no one else and never could. Samir found himself evaluating her companion and jerked himself awake - he had never done this and did not want to start thinking on those lines. He glanced back at her and looked away thinking about whatever had happened. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;"Are you ready or would you like some more time to organize your conflicting thoughts and emotions"? said a voice from close by and Samir snapped back to reality, smiling in recognition. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;She was unlike most women he had befriended before. He looked back to see that she was no longer there and smiled again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:14px;"&gt;**************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-1569291148373956175?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/1569291148373956175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2009/04/new-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/1569291148373956175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/1569291148373956175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2009/04/new-day.html' title='A New Day...'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-8046144272121472865</id><published>2009-04-04T09:44:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-12T20:00:21.098+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life at IIMI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'>0.5 * MBA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Its been a remarkable one year in pursuit of managerial excellence. We have been living the much desired Great Indian Dream to study at the premier Indian Institutes setup by Nehru in the 60s; envisioned to be the gurukulas to develop our brahmastras of technical superiority and global competitiveness. We read all that was to be read - Levitt, Porter, Hamel and many more. We juggled not two but even three jobs at one time even in the wee hours of early morning privacy. Being trained for a truly global world where the boundaries fade and the disciplines converge, we also alt+tabbed our way through projects on Strategy, Market Research and IPO Valuation at one go. We dared to think beyond IIMS and started naming our chickens before they were conceived. We went further eastward and tried our hand at Live Case Study contests organized by upcoming Singaporean companies in well, Singapore. We then crisscrossed back to Swadesh to give something back to our homeland and won a B-School (Did you know what the B actually stood for? )  Stock Picking contest without investing a single rupee. We escorted and hosted some big names in the industry and academia to campus. We heard, got motivated and felt better that a few still had faith in our abilities to lead the future because we were scared we might have to go out and claim thus. We did all this and much more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;We rose above the normal. We realized that there was a life beyond the mundane existence and acceptance of the status quo. We wanted to achieve elevated levels of comprehension, recognition and appreciation. We battered, bruised, abused our bodies to staying awake and determining the NPV of billion dollar investments in uncertain environments. We devised distribution strategies for the biggest of FMCGs, deduced inconsistencies in the Vision and Mission statements for Fortune 500 companies and deciphered the "hidden" agenda in every deal (Thanks to Prof RC). We revisited the greatly depressing Great Depression of the 1920s and debated into the night as to how we can get out of the current crisis with good jobs and fat pay packets. We took a novel approach and deduced that Pay Packet &amp;amp; Success = F (Expectation,  Competency Realization, Subjugation,  Obama, Luck)   We did all this and much more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Its been a roller coaster ride and thats as true as saying this statement sounds so fake. If there is one thing that you definitely learn - it is the recognition of the enormity of all that is to be learnt for improvement and progress. It is in this pursuit that we slog on for the remainder of this journey of two years with humility and focus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;P.S: If you are a BSchool aspirant, read twice before you rush into any conclusions after the first 2 paras :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;P.P.S: What was this post for. Damn! I dint want to write something like this. At this rate, I will need kilos of alkali to neutralize you know what..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-8046144272121472865?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/8046144272121472865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2009/04/05-mba.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/8046144272121472865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/8046144272121472865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2009/04/05-mba.html' title='0.5 * MBA'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-2058892759491637557</id><published>2009-01-23T00:44:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-23T15:23:34.868+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'>The 3 mistakes of my life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hold on.. Neither is this a tribute nor a satire of the book by Chetan Bhagat. Apart from not having any time to write something substantially complex and confusing to sound profound on the book (which is quite impossible to be fair to the book), I personally dont give a shit to his books. The only one of the bestsellers of his that I forced myself to read was the above mentioned due to unforeseen circumstances. Quiet naturally due to strict negative inner reinforcement, I was genuinely and completely biased by the time I started flipping through the pages. This was about a year back I suppose. A lot has changed since then - the economic slowdown around the world, the "demise" of investment banking (the last straw for this company was hiring me as an intern during April-May 2009), Barack Obama, Slumdog Millionaire (and the ever growing love, fascination and respect for Indian slums) and bail-outs - even the porn industry wants a $5 billion "stimulus" to revive "sagging" demand. Charged with our knowledge of macroeconomics fundae, Keynes and Engles, a couple of us undertook a research study on determining the effects of such a stimulus package on reviving demand for porn and sex. After careful analysis through quantitative and quantitative techniques (aided by few pegs of a banned substance), we arrived at graphs showing a relationship. Unfortunately, the model was too complex to be understood for others the next morning due to the extensive  curves and contours dotting the entire landscape of the paper. Thus came the demise of our first real thought provoking work. Undaunted by such unacceptability, we have vowed to come back stronger with more insightful and revolutionary work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So here I was thinking back on recent times and short term capital gains and losses (aww screw this bschool terminology) and I was reminded that I had a blog which was so ironically named point blank shot. Coming to think of it, the only thing main &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;point&lt;/span&gt; about my blog is that it is &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;blank&lt;/span&gt; most of the times and I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;shot&lt;/span&gt; myself in the foot naming it thus. But those important things aside, I realized when I had so much content about screw-ups in my life why look beyond! Now came the bigger problem - how should I choose? The simplest way of doing this would be period wise and I realized that I should take the short-sighted approach and thus chose the recent 12 months. Post this classification and problem definition, I was left to evaluate alternatives. This exercise took me close to 20 hours since last night when I started with the first line of this masterpiece..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Practicality (cynicism?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Aspired attribute widely regarded as a sign of growing maturity, balance, control, poise and the likes - for me it signals an end to dreams. You stop fantasizing about those impossible things, you are going to stop trying. If you thought you could do 100 and you were good enough for and did only 40 and you continue to think that you can do 100 or even 120 the next time - you are all set according to me (with my limited experience and knowledge). Somehow dreaming about these impossible things has drastically come down and I may call it practicality and realization of constraints. If it had/has come with a more than compensatory share of the complementary attributes, I  cannot be too unhappy right ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Not going for it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was there for me. I had travelled all for it. I had to do it because it was time for it. There had to be a decision made and a delay just amounted to pushing an important issue on the back-burner. I was prepared, both for the best and the worst. There were no dry runs on this. No one could teach you, and if you had prior experience it was not something that was valued too highly. I still did not go for it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Blogging&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Thats the funniest. Blogging has been symbolic of all the wrongs, all those things that have been given an eager start only to fizz out over time. Its been easier to defend it with the trite &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lack of time&lt;/span&gt; reason. How much time does it take to pen down one's thoughts..to reflect on the happenings around..to voice one's views..to cogitate.. to learn..to finish what one has committed to in the past etc. It is injustice done to one's own self...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;practically &lt;/span&gt;speaking, I need to get some sleep now, and stop rambling :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-2058892759491637557?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/2058892759491637557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2009/01/3-mistakes-of-my-life.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/2058892759491637557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/2058892759491637557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2009/01/3-mistakes-of-my-life.html' title='The 3 mistakes of my life'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-7167112191681631380</id><published>2008-10-31T02:16:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-10-31T02:38:14.759+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life at IIMI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MBA'/><title type='text'>October Quota</title><content type='html'>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)...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;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...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;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)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am open to all..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am here for the learning, not for the grades..Sigh! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-7167112191681631380?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/7167112191681631380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/10/october-quota.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/7167112191681631380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/7167112191681631380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/10/october-quota.html' title='October Quota'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-675992141778032439</id><published>2008-09-18T21:36:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-09-18T21:52:26.064+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life at IIMI'/><title type='text'>1/6th MBA</title><content type='html'>Back home for my first term vacations..As the nick says it am 1/6th through with this course..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lotsa pleasant memories from the first 2 months at IIMI. Notable among them are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go here to register for the Marathon -&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.indoremarathon.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;www.indoremarathon.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adios!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-675992141778032439?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/675992141778032439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/09/16th-mba.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/675992141778032439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/675992141778032439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/09/16th-mba.html' title='1/6th MBA'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-5229427567482753789</id><published>2008-08-03T15:12:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2008-08-03T15:25:34.877+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life at IIMI'/><title type='text'>First IIMpressions</title><content type='html'>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..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*******************************************************************&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-5229427567482753789?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/5229427567482753789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/08/first-iimpressions.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/5229427567482753789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/5229427567482753789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/08/first-iimpressions.html' title='First IIMpressions'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-3556684912587407202</id><published>2008-07-13T09:17:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-07-13T09:25:44.848+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life at IIMI'/><title type='text'>Bah! The lack of time..</title><content type='html'>This is one claim that is justified if your a B Schooler...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Few things to be done today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) Quiz on Legal Aspects tomorrow..&lt;div&gt;2) Should do preliminary research on my Presentation on Legal Aspects&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) Talent Night is on Tonite..Final rehearsals at noon and main event at 10 pm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;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)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5) Pre readings for OB, QT etc etc etc&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6) Catch up on sleep&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its a tough life out here. I think ill choose Option 6 for better work-life balance...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz............................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-3556684912587407202?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/3556684912587407202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/07/bah-lack-of-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/3556684912587407202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/3556684912587407202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/07/bah-lack-of-time.html' title='Bah! The lack of time..'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-14989171920921818</id><published>2008-07-05T18:22:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-07-05T18:42:45.936+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life at IIMI'/><title type='text'>The Indian Institute of Management</title><content type='html'>Whoa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a place! It is all I expected it to be and more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Hope to keep posting as often as possible from now on..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-14989171920921818?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/14989171920921818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/07/indian-institute-of-management.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/14989171920921818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/14989171920921818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/07/indian-institute-of-management.html' title='The Indian Institute of Management'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-5413715372836049273</id><published>2008-06-20T21:27:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-20T22:29:43.930+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'>Dasavatharam....</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-5413715372836049273?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/5413715372836049273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/06/dasavatharam.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/5413715372836049273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/5413715372836049273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/06/dasavatharam.html' title='Dasavatharam....'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-8993895539321427128</id><published>2008-06-18T13:52:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-19T13:04:42.059+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><title type='text'>A Trip to Singa-pura</title><content type='html'>Aloha! Am back after spending 4 days in Singapore...Had limited access to internet over there and so here I am posting my experience :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 &lt;a href="http://www.littleindia.com.sg/"&gt;Little India&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a lot of dilly dallying got ourselves booked into the &lt;a href="http://www.albertcourt.com.sg/"&gt;The Albert Court - A Far East Hotel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a City Tour on the first day and did a little bit of shopping in Little India. Went the next day to &lt;a href="http://www.sentosa.com.sg/"&gt;Sentosa Island&lt;/a&gt;. 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 &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Aiyyo Nasama Pocche&lt;/span&gt; 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 &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Aiyyo Nasama Pocche&lt;/span&gt; mood, I turned pensive and waltzed to the "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If this were India and I had misplaced my camera"&lt;/span&gt;  mood...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to business - have to catch up on sleep :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-8993895539321427128?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/8993895539321427128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/06/trip-to-singa-pura.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/8993895539321427128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/8993895539321427128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/06/trip-to-singa-pura.html' title='A Trip to Singa-pura'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-3348563824226894244</id><published>2008-06-02T22:52:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-02T23:58:43.084+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chennai'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'>Life at Chennai and the all the good things...</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 &lt;a href="http://www.svce.ac.in/"&gt;SVCE&lt;/a&gt;.  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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things I would miss leaving Chennai..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sathyam&lt;/span&gt; -&gt; 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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Saravana Bhavan&lt;/span&gt; --&gt; 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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Maasilamani Street Kayyendhi Bhavan&lt;/span&gt; --&gt; 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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sweet Chariot, Ispahani Center, Nungambakkam&lt;/span&gt; --&gt; 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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fruit Shop on Greames Road --&gt; &lt;/span&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Marina Beach --&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Does it need a mention. The pride of Chennai. Boy would I miss the Bhajjis or what :---(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-3348563824226894244?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/3348563824226894244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/06/life-at-chennai-and-all-good-things.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/3348563824226894244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/3348563824226894244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/06/life-at-chennai-and-all-good-things.html' title='Life at Chennai and the all the good things...'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-5534645492629286712</id><published>2008-05-25T11:03:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-20T23:33:02.669+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Short Stories'/><title type='text'>The Walk - Part 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoBodyText" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;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. &lt;/span&gt;“Not much work today anyway&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;”, 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.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;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.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyText" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;************************************************************************************&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;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.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;2) Formatting is screwed in my blog. I guess I will have to learn quickly to enhance readability :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;3) Thanks for the patient read ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyText"  style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;4) I might be accused of being maudlin etc with this. I promise a raunchy sex thriller sometime later. Keep visiting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyText"  style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyText"  style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyText" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-5534645492629286712?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/5534645492629286712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/walk-part-4.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/5534645492629286712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/5534645492629286712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/walk-part-4.html' title='The Walk - Part 4'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-8809407102301871841</id><published>2008-05-25T10:31:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-25T11:03:14.222+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Short Stories'/><title type='text'>The Walk - Part 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Water tastes sour with coagulated blood mixed in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span&gt;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&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Ambulance driver had been on a holiday and the fifteen year old vehicle had refused to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My left leg had to be amputated as gangrene had set in. "Maybe a couple of hours earlier", mused the Doctors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-8809407102301871841?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/8809407102301871841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/walk-part-3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/8809407102301871841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/8809407102301871841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/walk-part-3.html' title='The Walk - Part 3'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-2114086707282500767</id><published>2008-05-25T09:26:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-25T11:16:45.076+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Short Stories'/><title type='text'>The Walk - Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The coughing and spluttering of an auto well on its painful last days stole the dull monotonous quiet prevailing in the area around the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;shamiana&lt;/span&gt;. 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 th&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e journey of the Olympic torch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;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. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="arial" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;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.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="arial" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;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.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;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.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;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.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;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.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suman Goyal, the President and Sudhakar were now walking towards the apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="arial" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-2114086707282500767?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/2114086707282500767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/walk-part-2_24.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/2114086707282500767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/2114086707282500767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/walk-part-2_24.html' title='The Walk - Part 2'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-924338668998264226</id><published>2008-05-25T09:06:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-25T11:15:31.849+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Short Stories'/><title type='text'>The Walk - Part 1</title><content type='html'>Having lived up to my promise in my first post about being a slow writer, I am back..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is something I had written in November 2004. Found it in some remote corner of my hard disk and decided what the hell :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;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.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;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. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;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.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyText" style="margin-right: -9pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;“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.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A big s&lt;i&gt;hamiana&lt;/i&gt; 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 &lt;i&gt;shamiana&lt;/i&gt;. 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. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;“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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;  &lt;h1 style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;  &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-924338668998264226?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/924338668998264226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/walk-part-1_24.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/924338668998264226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/924338668998264226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/walk-part-1_24.html' title='The Walk - Part 1'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-599336106867789175</id><published>2008-05-14T20:46:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-01T01:02:50.576+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='B School Interviews'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GD/PI'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MBA'/><title type='text'>My interview experience at FMS, Delhi</title><content type='html'>So one fine morning in February of this year, I took a flight down to the Capital to meet up with the folks at &lt;a href="http://www.fms.edu/"&gt;FMS&lt;/a&gt; :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Came out of the Airport and being the smart and lazy bum that I was, ignored the advice of friends on &lt;a href="http://www.pagalguy.com/"&gt;Pagalguy&lt;/a&gt; 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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Super Deluxe"&lt;/span&gt;  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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pagalguy.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Few hours later, some 10 of us were called in...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GD Topic - No one studies for an MBA, everyone studies for a job..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Panel - Dean, Male prof and Female prof&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Extempore - Tall men make better husbands - im around 6.2"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MP: So tell me Anand, what do you really think ? Do tall men make better husbands...&lt;br /&gt;P: Not really yaar. That movie of that tall husband bacchan...&lt;br /&gt;MP: Yeah Laawaris and smiles :)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Smiling..I really don't know sir.Probably they can have an eye on their wives always&lt;br /&gt;P: Can you name some ads in which there cast tall men usually..&lt;br /&gt;Me: Nothing comes to my mind sir..&lt;br /&gt;P: Tell me what you are wearing now and their brands..&lt;br /&gt;Me: My trousers are from peter england..shirt is from venfield..&lt;br /&gt;P: Who owns peter england ?&lt;br /&gt;Me: (thinking) Mayura Garments (it was Madura Garments..just couldn't think straight)&lt;br /&gt;MP: Mayura ? Answer is close..but not Mayura..think again&lt;br /&gt;Me: i don remember sir...i think its owned by the Birla group ultimately&lt;br /&gt;P: Which birla ?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Im not sure sir..&lt;br /&gt;P: Ok what else..Watch ?&lt;br /&gt;Me: I don wear one sir&lt;br /&gt;P: Boots..Belt..Pen..Tie&lt;br /&gt;Me: Boots by bata..Belt and tie by globus&lt;br /&gt;P: Tell me about globus&lt;br /&gt;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 )&lt;br /&gt;P: Raheja is actually based out of Mumbai..Tell me more about it&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ok...Spoke about the store - doing good..multiple brands different price categories etc&lt;br /&gt;FP: How many calls do you have&lt;br /&gt;Me: B and I&lt;br /&gt;FP: what %&lt;br /&gt;Me: 99.37&lt;br /&gt;P: If in college, someone dint like you..what aspect would they be bothered about&lt;br /&gt;Me: Are you asking me about my weakness ?&lt;br /&gt;P: Not necessarily..What would they think..&lt;br /&gt;Me: Probably they would say im a little aggressive&lt;br /&gt;P: And what positives?&lt;br /&gt;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..&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;MP: When you stepped into FMS and in this room, what was the first impression.&lt;br /&gt;Me: FMS - the red building caught my eye. This room - 3 panelists with the Dean..Could have been more creative..Silly me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MP: Thank you..Thats it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Thank you sir...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And the results a week later - I was through, but on the Wait List...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haven't gone about checking the Wait List status as I wouldn't be taking it up now..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********************&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-599336106867789175?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/599336106867789175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-interview-experience-at-fms-delhi.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/599336106867789175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/599336106867789175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-interview-experience-at-fms-delhi.html' title='My interview experience at FMS, Delhi'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-1739447788375118608</id><published>2008-05-12T16:52:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-06-01T01:03:06.635+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IT'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'>The profession that stands out..</title><content type='html'>IT, what else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MF: Hey there dude!&lt;br /&gt;He: Whassup buddy&lt;br /&gt;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&lt;br /&gt;other vendors..&lt;br /&gt;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&lt;br /&gt;MF: (Letting loose a philosophical rant) Life has no boundaries..Ends are but illusionary..What are the means..&lt;br /&gt;He: What do you mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phone buzzes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some talk on the other end..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclaimer:  Standard disclaimers apply.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-1739447788375118608?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/1739447788375118608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/profession-that-stands-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/1739447788375118608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/1739447788375118608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/profession-that-stands-out.html' title='The profession that stands out..'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5329581202902095321.post-5478176673675758085</id><published>2008-05-11T00:22:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-14T20:26:33.223+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='General'/><title type='text'>The birth of this blogger</title><content type='html'>This has long been coming. In fact to be precise, it has taken 5 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a slow writer. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some Facts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I have been ruminating on possible names for a blog, a theme and other accouterments for close to  4 hours now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I have spent 10 minutes after writing the last line thinking about what to write next&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I wonder how people blog on their GPRS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I have breached the 18 line barrier,  I shall refrain from pushing myself any further. As they say in Tamil,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alavu minjinal amuthamum visham - In excess, even the life-perpetuating Nector is poisonous&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5329581202902095321-5478176673675758085?l=point-blank-shot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/feeds/5478176673675758085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/birth-of-this-blogger.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/5478176673675758085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5329581202902095321/posts/default/5478176673675758085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://point-blank-shot.blogspot.com/2008/05/birth-of-this-blogger.html' title='The birth of this blogger'/><author><name>Anand Chandramouli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18014610784235354467</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iwqNuCv97w0/SCZbbhyAR7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/VBev-RkDA3c/S220/anand2.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
