"It took me years to forget your landline number", she said. A lovely forty minute conversation was brought to a stand still when she said it. He stopped breathing for a moment and sunk those words in, one syllable after the other. It all came back to him in a flash. The 8 digit number that he knew too well. Her phone number. The one that he used to call out loud in sleep. The one he dialed and dialed so many times. "Well, I still remember yours clearly", he said.
It was twelve years back in time. Bajaj Chetak's "gaadi bula rahi hai" was doing the rounds. It was on the TV during the world cup and on almost everyone's lips. Transistors were still used a lot. Boys took it to school and surreptitiously tuned in for cricket scores. TVS 50 became TVS champ and people were upgrading their moped (Moped seems like a term from the past). Tuition classes were about those first five minutes when her batch got over and his about to start. And a slew of ladybird cycles were going out and a chain of hercules getting parked. Life should have paused. Just there. Not an inch ahead, not an inch behind.
There are a million things in our lives that we want to change. We feel like we should have had the option to go back in time and redo those things. We wonder what would have been...if only....how nice if. To remain trapped within the confines of good times is more than just a luxury. It is some kind of salvation. It could even be unachievable.
Thirty years from now I will be near the wrong end of birth. I would have changed a lot as a person and I would probably look back to this day and smile at myself in the mirror. Not realizing how much of me is still in me after so long. We don't suddenly wake up one day and see life-altering changes in ourselves. It takes a lot of time for change to happen, our identities to shift, like the larva from the cocoon.
While all of it is so complex and there isn't much that can be changed about the past, it is better we understand this predicament in life's design.
1. If there is an asset worth more than all your assets put together, it is time. Especially when you are young, this is the greatest thing ever in your possession.
2. Some people and some moments are there to be etched in your minds forever. Love all your folk and cherish all the moments for you don't know which ones will make it to the final précis for etching.
3. Most of us in this world want the same things. So when you want something, just go and take it. Someone else also wants it and it pays to not be late.
4. Just enjoy everything that is available with you right now and take care of them really well. Be it your girl, your bike, your books or your coffee mug. After a while you will realize your stuff is special and other stuff is someone else's anyway.
We all want to describe our own lives through a bunch of breakthrough narratives. So we wait for these breakthroughs to happen. And we wait amidst all hope and despair When we see that cute girl down the road we think she is the one. When we start a new job, we think this will be the one. When we put the money in that oil company stock, we are anxiously thinking that will be the one. We are always waiting for those life changing moments to come and knock us out of slumber and give us some flowers.
Only that they will never show up. They have come and gone. Those moments that we were living and dying for came and went. Like it did 12 years back when he was driving that moped in front of her bungalow, slowing down hoping she would hear the sound of the motor and run out of her room into the balcony. She did. She came out and saw him till he disappeared round the street corner. Albeit a few seconds later.
Friday, 26 June 2015
Friday, 7 December 2012
The Grass is Green on the Other Side!
I'm back! or so it feels. I thought of a better come back line because this one was a particularly long hiatus from this chirpy world of small talk and polarized opinions, but couldn't do better. A come back line is more of an irony at this juncture as I would not summarize my current state of affairs as anything like the one of Earl of Emsworth after the Shropshire race for instance. It's placement season here after all. Nevertheless, I am back to writing and it feels good.Similar emotions with the title of this post as I was wondering what to name it. Cliched as it sounds, a truer word was never spoken.
The "grass" is greener on the other side. Is there a better time for the avid blogger to make a comeback than placement time at b-school? Probably not. But I ain't going to whine here as one would expect from a lesser soul than mine. It's a matter of time before the curtains would roll down on this one year roller coaster ride called b-school and I have mixed feelings about it. Sucking blood is an amusing hobby by any standards. Vampires used to do that notoriously as they say in many a folktale. But this one called b school is adept at sucking blood even more than the vampires. This bubble reminds me of that carnivorous island in the movie "Life of Pi". One makes merry now and one is left gaping for breath the next moment. It's an amusing place to say the least.
Talking of greenery and grass (as I rightly should after naming it so), though they could mean one and the same thing in some sense of the words, they are two entirely different concoctions when looked at from the "other side". The "other side" is an amusing place to be or so I understand from people who tell me to look at it from thither. Think about grades. There is the other side called learning. Think about a job shortlist, there is the other side called long term prospects. Think about money. There is the other side called true happiness. What I fail to understand in these analogies is how people flip the coin to see it from the so called other side.
I remember this day when I was in school, vividly, for various reasons. The girl I used to have a thing for during that time was moving out of town. I guess her father was in the army or something and at that time call of duty came from an "other side" of the country. So they were moving to Mizoram or some such place which I failed to place on the map during that time, thanks to me being geographically challenged. I would deceive one if I said I am any better now. But for one thing, it was far away from Bangalore, where I was picking shells at that point in life. The incredible thing about this girl under scrutiny was that she was the most beautiful thing on earth back in the day and many eyeballs rolled at her sight. I use the word incredible carefully here because, among all the eligible boys in class, she chose to do combined studies with me. Stressing upon the wise usage of the term incredible in this particular context, I would like to bring to the reader's notice here that I had a head in the shape of a full onion at that time and my brains were slightly better than that of a cauliflower by any standards. Incredible, when I come to think why she chose me! But all's not fair in this world of jerks and morons and so be it. The point here is that her last day in school was a melancholic one of sorts for many a soul. I was sobbing when I thought of the next term after summer break and the dark clouds seemed to close in faster than I could imagine. Then an interesting thing happened. It involved my best pal from school, who I hang out with solely for image pepping purposes. If my head was the shape of an onion, his was more like a soda bottle, if you get my drift. He told me many things at length, but I don't recollect much of it since it was more nonsensical than one would imagine. But one thing that he said made sense to me. He told me to look at the neighbor's lawn, the other girl from section b who was better looking, healthier and overall greener in order to forget the loss of this one.
There is always scope for some free advice to say things like there's other stuff on the other side and all that sort of gibberish. But the problem here is that it is frigging easy to say things like these (happens often in the b school classroom too, especially with these strategy professors) and bloody difficult to make anything of it.
So the story, for the curious, ended on a sad note and as I grew up, the onion on top of me grew into more of the beetroot kind and I lost chances if any to hold on to a beautiful girl since then.
The point is that this other side argument is complete bull crap and I wouldn't buy it for as cheap as dirt. But the thing about "grass" and the greenery has amused me to some extent. The other day I was reading a Wodehouse since I was completely demoralized due to a sequence of events here at b school and I came across this thing about greenery. Most of Britain according to Wodehouse tales is covered by lush green lawns with a lake here and there and beautiful couples strolling with their Pomeranian.
The part that is amusing is that they always have an air around them, these people from those country side castles. They seem to own excessively large chunks of property and sit on filthy piles of cash that their daily schedules look like this:
Wake up for the breakfast gong,
Eat till the chicken yells from inside the stomach,
Look at the blue sky and pass a comment or two about the weather,
go to the library and pick up a book like "How to fool the princess at the castle" or some such piece of literature,
Wait for the lunch gong,
Repeat step 2,
Go for an afternoon siesta,
Wake up for an evening stroll with some gorgeous girl who also sits on a pile of cash,
Wait for the dinner gong,
Double up the efforts and perform step 2 even better,
Sleep,
Repeat step 1.
When will I get to engage in such routine? Will I ever get to? As greedy as I sound, that is what one would secretly wish for. Let's face it (as my room mate here would put it). It is so funny to be dreaming of such things when one is fighting to get a shortlist (let alone a job) for a handsome pay package to pay off the huge loans post b school. But nonetheless, I want to live like those characters in Wodehouse (on the "other side" of the ocean :-P)
I said I wouldn't whine, but here I am whining in front of you, but only for two really really sound reasons.
1. There is no brighter other side. period.
2. The greens are a mirage they don't seem to up the mood anyway.
Screw the green, screw the sides, Cheer up! For in times such as these, there is "grass" (a soft pillow from mother nature to sleep on, if you got the message wrong!!!)
P.S: As lame as this post would sound, I request for some concern and pity owing to the long gap in writing. Thou shall only get better.
The "grass" is greener on the other side. Is there a better time for the avid blogger to make a comeback than placement time at b-school? Probably not. But I ain't going to whine here as one would expect from a lesser soul than mine. It's a matter of time before the curtains would roll down on this one year roller coaster ride called b-school and I have mixed feelings about it. Sucking blood is an amusing hobby by any standards. Vampires used to do that notoriously as they say in many a folktale. But this one called b school is adept at sucking blood even more than the vampires. This bubble reminds me of that carnivorous island in the movie "Life of Pi". One makes merry now and one is left gaping for breath the next moment. It's an amusing place to say the least.
Talking of greenery and grass (as I rightly should after naming it so), though they could mean one and the same thing in some sense of the words, they are two entirely different concoctions when looked at from the "other side". The "other side" is an amusing place to be or so I understand from people who tell me to look at it from thither. Think about grades. There is the other side called learning. Think about a job shortlist, there is the other side called long term prospects. Think about money. There is the other side called true happiness. What I fail to understand in these analogies is how people flip the coin to see it from the so called other side.
I remember this day when I was in school, vividly, for various reasons. The girl I used to have a thing for during that time was moving out of town. I guess her father was in the army or something and at that time call of duty came from an "other side" of the country. So they were moving to Mizoram or some such place which I failed to place on the map during that time, thanks to me being geographically challenged. I would deceive one if I said I am any better now. But for one thing, it was far away from Bangalore, where I was picking shells at that point in life. The incredible thing about this girl under scrutiny was that she was the most beautiful thing on earth back in the day and many eyeballs rolled at her sight. I use the word incredible carefully here because, among all the eligible boys in class, she chose to do combined studies with me. Stressing upon the wise usage of the term incredible in this particular context, I would like to bring to the reader's notice here that I had a head in the shape of a full onion at that time and my brains were slightly better than that of a cauliflower by any standards. Incredible, when I come to think why she chose me! But all's not fair in this world of jerks and morons and so be it. The point here is that her last day in school was a melancholic one of sorts for many a soul. I was sobbing when I thought of the next term after summer break and the dark clouds seemed to close in faster than I could imagine. Then an interesting thing happened. It involved my best pal from school, who I hang out with solely for image pepping purposes. If my head was the shape of an onion, his was more like a soda bottle, if you get my drift. He told me many things at length, but I don't recollect much of it since it was more nonsensical than one would imagine. But one thing that he said made sense to me. He told me to look at the neighbor's lawn, the other girl from section b who was better looking, healthier and overall greener in order to forget the loss of this one.
There is always scope for some free advice to say things like there's other stuff on the other side and all that sort of gibberish. But the problem here is that it is frigging easy to say things like these (happens often in the b school classroom too, especially with these strategy professors) and bloody difficult to make anything of it.
So the story, for the curious, ended on a sad note and as I grew up, the onion on top of me grew into more of the beetroot kind and I lost chances if any to hold on to a beautiful girl since then.
The point is that this other side argument is complete bull crap and I wouldn't buy it for as cheap as dirt. But the thing about "grass" and the greenery has amused me to some extent. The other day I was reading a Wodehouse since I was completely demoralized due to a sequence of events here at b school and I came across this thing about greenery. Most of Britain according to Wodehouse tales is covered by lush green lawns with a lake here and there and beautiful couples strolling with their Pomeranian.
The part that is amusing is that they always have an air around them, these people from those country side castles. They seem to own excessively large chunks of property and sit on filthy piles of cash that their daily schedules look like this:
Wake up for the breakfast gong,
Eat till the chicken yells from inside the stomach,
Look at the blue sky and pass a comment or two about the weather,
go to the library and pick up a book like "How to fool the princess at the castle" or some such piece of literature,
Wait for the lunch gong,
Repeat step 2,
Go for an afternoon siesta,
Wake up for an evening stroll with some gorgeous girl who also sits on a pile of cash,
Wait for the dinner gong,
Double up the efforts and perform step 2 even better,
Sleep,
Repeat step 1.
When will I get to engage in such routine? Will I ever get to? As greedy as I sound, that is what one would secretly wish for. Let's face it (as my room mate here would put it). It is so funny to be dreaming of such things when one is fighting to get a shortlist (let alone a job) for a handsome pay package to pay off the huge loans post b school. But nonetheless, I want to live like those characters in Wodehouse (on the "other side" of the ocean :-P)
I said I wouldn't whine, but here I am whining in front of you, but only for two really really sound reasons.
1. There is no brighter other side. period.
2. The greens are a mirage they don't seem to up the mood anyway.
Screw the green, screw the sides, Cheer up! For in times such as these, there is "grass" (a soft pillow from mother nature to sleep on, if you got the message wrong!!!)
P.S: As lame as this post would sound, I request for some concern and pity owing to the long gap in writing. Thou shall only get better.
Friday, 9 March 2012
Jihad - A Taxonomy
After reading through a couple of books on the subject of Islamic Jihad and its roots, I side with Mahmood Mamdani, the author of 'Good Muslim, Bad Muslim' on the matter of Jihad's categorisation. I believe that Islamic Jihad is more political than theological as Mahmood proves (or tries to prove) in his acclaimed book about Islam, USA and the Cold War. People who kill in the name of jihad don't kill as dictated by any religious decree, but do so due to a political decree that governs a quest for power. Lets analyse that school of thought in a bit more detail.
Jihad : Personal Profile
Name : Jihad, The War within.
Father's Name : The United States of America
Mother's Name : CIA
Place of Birth : Afghanistan
Time of Birth : Cold War
Civilisation : Wahhabi Islamists
Current Residence : Afghanistan
Previous Residences : Afghanistan, Egypt, Post Apartheid South Africa, Iraq, Iran, Somalia and many more....
Motto (Then) : Defeat the Soviets (USSR)
Motto (Now) : Defeat the hegemonic (USA +)
Friends (Then) : USA, CIA, Saudi Arabia, Israel
Friends (Now) :Iraq, Somalia, Egypt, Pakistan, Afghanistan
Foes (Then) : USSR
Foes (Now) : USA and Allies
Achievements : Wiping Soviet Influence in Afghanistan and Eastern Europe (Cold War), 9/11 Bombing of Twin Towers, Attacks on US friendly nations viz. Britain, France, India (more recently)
Failures : Refer to Friends and Foes section above
So, from what you've read above, the only intriguing part is how Dad became Foe between then and now. The answer to that interesting conundrum makes us understand Jihad and its various manifestations over time in a clearer fashion. Lets go back to the birth of what is called 'Jihad' in today's context. The USA, which was one of the two super powers in the world after the Second World war wanted autonomy in world power and thereby resolved to eradicate Soviet's influence in Eastern Europe and the Middle East. The much hyped 'Cold War' is just about this. If we remember right, the Second World War was fought in Europe and Asia and the countries involved in the war by and large were labelled 'Third World Countries' (where the Soviet wielded some influence). One of the aims of the Second World War was to dethrone dictators around the world including but not limited to Hitler. We all know how that war ended and how it gave birth to the next global war in line viz. The Cold War. The perpetrators of this war - America, decided to wage the entire war 'proxily' and hence the name : 'proxy war'.
The Afghan resistance to USSR was nothing but a US intervention and that intervention was well executed by way of 'privatization'. America decided to operate from behind the scenes and in the process exposed various religious groups and extremist groups on the battle field. So, instead of controlling aspects like training directly, the CIA allowed private organisations to spread information about violence, especially tactics and methods to drive out the Russians. Al Qaeda was one such organisation that was fed and brought up by the USA Government under Ronald Reagan with technical assistance from the CIA and ground zero assistance from the ISI. That is how far behind the US-Pakistan relationship goes. If one does not understand why US has been an ally of Pakistan over the last decade even after so many instances that proved Pakistan's association with the Taliban, the answer is the long lasting friendship between the CIA and the ISI right from the Cold War times. So the US tactics during the cold war was well thought out and at the ground level it had learnt from its earlier mistakes in Vietnam.
After the Cold War, which was very satisfactorily won by the US, a few global problems arose from the very operations during the war. One of them was a realisation viz..a realisation about the cost of blood to various Muslim nations in Africa and Middle East. Countries like Somalia, Afghanistan, Iraq and Iran paid the price for America's victory. The price they paid was in denominations of livelihood and blood. Millions of people in Afghanistan and Somalia were devoid of food, security and shelter immediately after the Cold War. This point (just after the end of the Cold War) marks a paradigm shift in the identity of Jihad. People who were nurtured and fed by the US had no place to go after the completion of the war and they started revolting against their very own creators for their exploits hitherto. It is important to note that private organisations like Al Qaeda and Haji Group were armed up to their teeth with highly advanced US weaponry which were supplied to them in large numbers during the Soviet whitewash. Osama Bin Laden led from the front and called all his 'political' brothers to wage a war against the perpetrators. He and the other Jihadist leaders saw an opportunity to show their military and political might in a bid to become empowered. They believed that they could defeat their creators with their own methods and weapons. In retaliation, the US, which was apprehensive about the weaponry (biological and nuclear) in possession of those fundamentalists, declared the global war on terror. This clash culminated in the happenings of September 9th of 2001 at New York.
So, the story of Islamic Jihad is essentially one of a family Saga where the son decides to revolt against his very own cunning Father who exploited him to achieve his personal goals. This global war on terror and the holy war called Jihad, that are at loggerheads currently, cannot be ended until and unless governments worldwide acknowledge the fact that both of them are political battles and not religious ones. It can also be said that the political battles involve some monetary benefits besides the quest for power. The war on Iraq, as is known to many of us worldwide, had its roots in oil and natural resources. But America's strategy during and after the cold war - proxy fighting and sedition shall not work in today's world of complex foreign policies. America has to understand that Jihad is its own creation and it can only end it by accepting to live with a wider distribution of power on the world map. The ascent of countries like China, India, Brazil and South Africa on the global trade platform makes the relationship between friends and foes a complex one. For instance, India, which supports America's war on terror (either by design or accident) cannot afford to break its ties with Iran or Yemen to appease the United States. The simple reason is India's growing energy interests in the region.
To conclude, it may objectively correct to blame America for having a corrupting influence on Islam in their 'Global War Against Terror'. But the very elements of that corruption are those Jihadists who are busy waging the 'Holy War'.
So, the job of the innocent muslim who is caught in these crossfires is to look at Religious Islam and Political Islam from different angles.
A neutral spectator should see the American Think Tank and the Jihadist Ideology as two superficial smart players in the global pursuit of power and treat the two imposters just the same.
P.S:The views expressed in this article are totally personal and are based on opinion and understanding of various events from history as recorded in various books on the subject.
Thursday, 23 February 2012
What's with a writer's block
Enough of that... I didn't know what to write about. So, I tried to break the ice and start blabbering about something or the other and I used the backspace key on my laptop more than anything else while I started this post. After striking through and through so many times, I decided I would write about that very thing - The Writer's block. Wiki defines it as a 'condition', which can even put an end to one's writing career - in the professional sense that is. Not for an amateur blogger like thou and thee. But I think it is more of a curse than being just a condition.
Consider my last post on this blog, I wrote about some random Margabandhu and tried to correlate his activities with Indian cricket by and large. That thing apparently did not make for a hit as I noticed on my statistics page. There was only one person who commented/liked it on facebook and that person was him. If I had to go by his taste, my writing career would have long been over. I mean, the point is, one shouldn't get an orgasm if someone like him vouches for one's work. So, for a person who understands this fact, technically, the problem is that he starts wondering what needs to change to make a successful product on his blog. I was wondering exactly that and that seemingly was the reason for my prolonged absence from here.
One of my friends suggested me to write on 'How to fall in love and get married in 90 days' as an ode to another friend and his accomplishments. He even gave me a 'title idea' for that post - 'Le Executioner'. But I somehow got the feeling that it wouldn't bring home the bacon. I felt that they might end up being the only persons to appreciate my thoughts on that subject. The other problem was that I have no clue about achieving that kind of a feat in 90 days, so to speak. Some weird guy in my wing had a book while I was at college. It was called 'The Game' and it apparently helped teenaged dudes to pick some threads with nice girls and walk out of pubs like a couple. That book would probably have an answer to that 90 days love and marriage and all that kind of jazz, not my blog. The same set of friends also suggested I write a book instead of wasting time on a blog and I looked at them askance at that suggestion. I don't need to elaborate. That suggestion was nothing more than just 'stupid'.
With so many suggestions and ideas, both from external sources and internal, the only good was that I came to realize one real fact viz.The mind and the heart belong to two different sexes. The mind is a testosterone based thinker and the heart is a lot like those pinkish fetishes. In the process of contemplating, I thought I should write about cricket, especially about that internal unrest in Team India's dressing room. The mind suggested that topic of course, if you didn't get that part clear. The heart pounced at that suggestion and said, "Don't be a loser, get a life. Write something more romantic.". See? I said the heart belonged to the female sex. Then I thought of writing about passion, life, love and all those abstract things. This time, the guy retorted in an even bitter tone. He said, I would look like a fool if I write something so cinematic. That seemed sensible too. Especially with the kind of readers I have. It would easily become a topic for them to mock at me in public. So, I decided against that one too. Politics Economics, Money, Career, Work, Football etc. said HIM...... Pets, Fashion, Nature, Trees, Oceans, Flowers et al. came from HER. But I found none really meaningful.
I asked those two friends of mine for some more ideas. And one of them told me to write about 'why women are not funny'. His argument was that, those kind of topics could possibly bring a lot more female attention to this blog which is something that is lacking as of today. But I begged to differ. That kid of writing would probably bring a lot of scorn to me and my chauvinistic ideas. I prefer to play it safe and say that women are actually very funny and move on.
Another idea was to write about smoking and drinking as stimulants for a writer and his creativity as is talked about here. But I felt, I should do some more research to write about something of that sort, especially since I am a complete teetotaler as you guys know.
So yea, due to a lack of ideas, I ended up taking a long vacation from writing, until I figured I could write about that block itself. I guess I did get past that block in the end because as I scroll up, I think I've written enough for a post. More than 4 paragraphs it appears. So, Wiki could have actually got it right. It is probably just a condition.
If you are here,
Thanks for getting this far, You have played a part in removing my writer's block. Thank you!
Friday, 13 January 2012
Manam Irundhal Margabandhu (If there's a big heart, it has to be Mr. Margabandhu)
It is very uncanny that I have a striking resemblance to this character called Margabandhu. In general, full length comedy movies in Tamil have had an impact on my actions and my words. The title of this blog post is one that has been carefully hand picked from Vasool Raja MBBS (Munna Bhai MBBS) for the tamil challenged and the indi padam maniacs. The character is known for his huge heart and heavy patience. The point I am trying to drive home is that like him, even I seem to have a really huge heart and with it I seem to display a really huge amount of patience at certain times. One such time is during the India-Australia series 2011-2012.
In the same movie Vasool Raja, a follow up dialogue goes like this "Margabandhu Mudhal Sandhu". This one is senseless by and large and doesn't qualify as one for which I should write an English translation within braces. But the point is. it's a well timed dialogue that seems to convey the emotions one goes through when one is in really deep waters. December 26, 2011 was a significant day for me as an ardent cricket fan and much like many other purist fans of this game, I woke up before the cock and waited anxiously for the proceedings to start in the much spoken about boxing day test. The first day was really going India's way until Sachin succumbed through his bat pad gate to a wonderfully bowled delivery from Siddle. It was a heart break for many fans who were waiting for his most talked about hundredth ton. But the situation was such that one could manage to move on because the day arguably belonged to India and the Indian top order had to an extent lived to their hype.
One such day never came again in the 2 and a half tests that we've seen ever since. The sad part is, even after so much, I don't seem to give up. I know I am not alone in this and I am well aware that many more Margabandhus around have wasted their sleep hours at dawn. But mark my words Maarkku, we have been foolish. Test after test, the script has been the same. It has now become all too familiar now. Still, we have not given up. It is the third test in the series and Indian batting has been in the same Thakkali(Tomato) Soup that it has been in for the past 3-4 weeks.
With very sad emotions gushing through my heart after a disastrous start to this tour down under, I wish to make a few points.
1. Indian batting shall never ever be deemed as one of the most formidable. Period.
2. Indian bowlers are not to be spared. They are equally complicit because they don't seem to bowl consistent length and line like their Australian counterparts.
3. Why is Dhoni talking about 2015 and all? If logic remains and fairness triumphs, he should be on his way to Ranchi sometime towards the end of 2012. Luck is a good thing and it can cling on to a person for astonishingly long whiles. But it can't get longer than this.His period at the helm is almost over.
4. Sachin Tendulkar will score his hundredth century before retiring. Let us put to bed any apprehensions about that fact.
5. Rahul Dravid has had a changeover ever since England. If I remember right, Venkatesh Prasad used to close his bat pad gap better whenever he came on as nightwatchman.
6. When India dropped Ashwin for the third test, they dropped their most in-form batsman and with that they resolved to fall short of 120 runs across two innings.
7. If you have forgotten this fact, India were world number 1 in tests 6 months back.
8. I will wake up tomorrow morning also and see the first session with some hope. A brand new day, A brand new approach and all that sort of hopes.
9. I have a big heart and hence my name is Margabandhu (Maarkku)
10. If you have a big heart too and if you could be called Maarkku, don't shoot yourself, it's ok. Ivanga eppodhume ipdi than (This Indian team is always like this).
11 And, Finally Maarkku brothers, we shall never walk alone. Zaheer, Umesh, Ishant, Vinay, Ashwin....they are also in our club only. They have a big heart, if you get my drift.
Image Courtesy : Cricinfo.
In the same movie Vasool Raja, a follow up dialogue goes like this "Margabandhu Mudhal Sandhu". This one is senseless by and large and doesn't qualify as one for which I should write an English translation within braces. But the point is. it's a well timed dialogue that seems to convey the emotions one goes through when one is in really deep waters. December 26, 2011 was a significant day for me as an ardent cricket fan and much like many other purist fans of this game, I woke up before the cock and waited anxiously for the proceedings to start in the much spoken about boxing day test. The first day was really going India's way until Sachin succumbed through his bat pad gate to a wonderfully bowled delivery from Siddle. It was a heart break for many fans who were waiting for his most talked about hundredth ton. But the situation was such that one could manage to move on because the day arguably belonged to India and the Indian top order had to an extent lived to their hype.
One such day never came again in the 2 and a half tests that we've seen ever since. The sad part is, even after so much, I don't seem to give up. I know I am not alone in this and I am well aware that many more Margabandhus around have wasted their sleep hours at dawn. But mark my words Maarkku, we have been foolish. Test after test, the script has been the same. It has now become all too familiar now. Still, we have not given up. It is the third test in the series and Indian batting has been in the same Thakkali(Tomato) Soup that it has been in for the past 3-4 weeks.
With very sad emotions gushing through my heart after a disastrous start to this tour down under, I wish to make a few points.
1. Indian batting shall never ever be deemed as one of the most formidable. Period.
2. Indian bowlers are not to be spared. They are equally complicit because they don't seem to bowl consistent length and line like their Australian counterparts.
3. Why is Dhoni talking about 2015 and all? If logic remains and fairness triumphs, he should be on his way to Ranchi sometime towards the end of 2012. Luck is a good thing and it can cling on to a person for astonishingly long whiles. But it can't get longer than this.His period at the helm is almost over.
4. Sachin Tendulkar will score his hundredth century before retiring. Let us put to bed any apprehensions about that fact.
5. Rahul Dravid has had a changeover ever since England. If I remember right, Venkatesh Prasad used to close his bat pad gap better whenever he came on as nightwatchman.
6. When India dropped Ashwin for the third test, they dropped their most in-form batsman and with that they resolved to fall short of 120 runs across two innings.
7. If you have forgotten this fact, India were world number 1 in tests 6 months back.
8. I will wake up tomorrow morning also and see the first session with some hope. A brand new day, A brand new approach and all that sort of hopes.
9. I have a big heart and hence my name is Margabandhu (Maarkku)
10. If you have a big heart too and if you could be called Maarkku, don't shoot yourself, it's ok. Ivanga eppodhume ipdi than (This Indian team is always like this).
11 And, Finally Maarkku brothers, we shall never walk alone. Zaheer, Umesh, Ishant, Vinay, Ashwin....they are also in our club only. They have a big heart, if you get my drift.
Image Courtesy : Cricinfo.
Monday, 19 December 2011
Simon, Come back!
On October 30, 1928, a group of protesters led by Lala Lajpat Rai waved black flags and shouted 'Simon, Go Back' to protest the arrival of the Simon Commission. What started then still seems to go on as we blindly shout on the top of our voices to brush aside heavy money investors from the west. FDI in retail has been a hugely debated topic on the news and print media for more than a fortnight now and the age old attitude of sending all Simons back isn't perceived too well in the current scheme of things.
Why don't we have Harrods in Delhi? A simple question for a four year old who asked her dad while they came out of a shopping center in London. Though the question might seem simple, the answer to it is a tough nut for the dad to crack as he gapes for reasons. In my opinion, FDI in retail makes a lot of sense especially with a 51% limit to overseas stake. Here are the reasons:
1. With FDI in retail, we are attempting to organize and put in order one of the most unorganized and deeply corrupted sectors in the country.
2. Against a production of 180 million mt a year of fruits, vegetables and perishables, India has a capacity of storing only 23.6 million mt in 5,386 cold storages across the country. With overseas investment, we are moving towards a regime of optimal cold storage and superior logistic capability.
3. India has 1.2 billion consumers, 600 million farmers and 5 million traders. Should we save the penny for the 1.2 billion consumers and improve lifestyles of 600 million farmers by affecting the margins of 5 million traders? YES
4. Cauliflower is sold at the mandi Rs 5. a kg. After travelling a few miles to the vendor, the price goes up by 400% to Rs 25. per kg and what the farmer gets from the sale at the mandi is a meagre Rs. 3. There is something wrong with this system and it has to be addressed at any cost.
5. Naysayers say that FDI capital in multi brand retail has a tendency to multiply itself and could lead to an unthinkable application of 'capital for profit' and in the process deepen the gap between the rich and the poor. But how flawed is that argument? The government promises to keep an eye on the prices and hypermarkets would be introduced in only those cities which have a population of more than 10 lakhs. As of now only 53 cities qualify the aforementioned criteria. With a rural population of 70%, the 53 cities (a fraction of the remaining 30%) cannot contribute as much to a deep divide.
6. The proposal states – 51% stake in multi-brand retail with a minimum investment of $100 million of which about 50% has to be spent on back-end infrastructure.That translates to a good amount of job generation in unprecedented quarters especially in the supply chain arena.
With so much to speak for the introduction of this long awaited reform, there is only one thing that is worrisome in my opinion. With the amount of capital and the power of foreign investors, it is possible that the ultimate aim of the game is defeated. The hypermarkets could hypothetically beat all competition from small traders and reach a stage of monopoly. With that they could fix prices for all commodities as they wish and book higher profits as they establish themselves in the long run. But as I have already mentioned, even that possibility arises from a hypothetical standpoint. More importantly, as per the proposal, the government promises to keep an eye on the prices.
What stops the reform from being implemented when it has the capability of addressing one of the biggest problems of our economy viz. food wastage? The reason is two pronged : Politics and Corruption. Opposition parties want to make a clear political issue out of this debate in an attempt to derail a government that is already in shambles. Also, the distance between the mandi and the vendor is filled by a well connected gang of goondas who inflate the prices and make undue profits. These goondas don't standalone, they are strongly backed by a nexus of political heavyweights. These political big names (un names) are not ready to forgo their illogical profits for the good of their voters.
Another reason why we are not able to debate this and enforce the reform is the fact that the people who argue against FDI in retail are a well organized group of traders. According to rough data released by the Ministry of Labor, trade unions had a combined membership of 24,601,589 in 2002. Contrastingly, there are too few organized farmer unions in the country that they are not able to raise their voices and stage successful protests.
All said and done, there is one thing to lift our spirits. Amidst complaints of parliament dysfunction and neglect of responsibility by politicians, our prime minister remains confident and positive about implementing this trend-setter bill. At the time of this writing, the Prime Minister spoke to the media from his private aircraft and expressed strong opinions about FDI in retail. He feels that we need to evolve a broad based consensus and he is committed towards it. His strategy is to wait until the elections to state assemblies (in the offing) get over and I believe that his very intent is a positive sign of things to come. I wish the proposal goes through when the time is right as it would help us lay the platform for many more reforms akin to the 1991 globalization.
Why don't we have Harrods in Delhi? A simple question for a four year old who asked her dad while they came out of a shopping center in London. Though the question might seem simple, the answer to it is a tough nut for the dad to crack as he gapes for reasons. In my opinion, FDI in retail makes a lot of sense especially with a 51% limit to overseas stake. Here are the reasons:
1. With FDI in retail, we are attempting to organize and put in order one of the most unorganized and deeply corrupted sectors in the country.
2. Against a production of 180 million mt a year of fruits, vegetables and perishables, India has a capacity of storing only 23.6 million mt in 5,386 cold storages across the country. With overseas investment, we are moving towards a regime of optimal cold storage and superior logistic capability.
3. India has 1.2 billion consumers, 600 million farmers and 5 million traders. Should we save the penny for the 1.2 billion consumers and improve lifestyles of 600 million farmers by affecting the margins of 5 million traders? YES
4. Cauliflower is sold at the mandi Rs 5. a kg. After travelling a few miles to the vendor, the price goes up by 400% to Rs 25. per kg and what the farmer gets from the sale at the mandi is a meagre Rs. 3. There is something wrong with this system and it has to be addressed at any cost.
5. Naysayers say that FDI capital in multi brand retail has a tendency to multiply itself and could lead to an unthinkable application of 'capital for profit' and in the process deepen the gap between the rich and the poor. But how flawed is that argument? The government promises to keep an eye on the prices and hypermarkets would be introduced in only those cities which have a population of more than 10 lakhs. As of now only 53 cities qualify the aforementioned criteria. With a rural population of 70%, the 53 cities (a fraction of the remaining 30%) cannot contribute as much to a deep divide.
6. The proposal states – 51% stake in multi-brand retail with a minimum investment of $100 million of which about 50% has to be spent on back-end infrastructure.That translates to a good amount of job generation in unprecedented quarters especially in the supply chain arena.
With so much to speak for the introduction of this long awaited reform, there is only one thing that is worrisome in my opinion. With the amount of capital and the power of foreign investors, it is possible that the ultimate aim of the game is defeated. The hypermarkets could hypothetically beat all competition from small traders and reach a stage of monopoly. With that they could fix prices for all commodities as they wish and book higher profits as they establish themselves in the long run. But as I have already mentioned, even that possibility arises from a hypothetical standpoint. More importantly, as per the proposal, the government promises to keep an eye on the prices.
What stops the reform from being implemented when it has the capability of addressing one of the biggest problems of our economy viz. food wastage? The reason is two pronged : Politics and Corruption. Opposition parties want to make a clear political issue out of this debate in an attempt to derail a government that is already in shambles. Also, the distance between the mandi and the vendor is filled by a well connected gang of goondas who inflate the prices and make undue profits. These goondas don't standalone, they are strongly backed by a nexus of political heavyweights. These political big names (un names) are not ready to forgo their illogical profits for the good of their voters.
Another reason why we are not able to debate this and enforce the reform is the fact that the people who argue against FDI in retail are a well organized group of traders. According to rough data released by the Ministry of Labor, trade unions had a combined membership of 24,601,589 in 2002. Contrastingly, there are too few organized farmer unions in the country that they are not able to raise their voices and stage successful protests.
All said and done, there is one thing to lift our spirits. Amidst complaints of parliament dysfunction and neglect of responsibility by politicians, our prime minister remains confident and positive about implementing this trend-setter bill. At the time of this writing, the Prime Minister spoke to the media from his private aircraft and expressed strong opinions about FDI in retail. He feels that we need to evolve a broad based consensus and he is committed towards it. His strategy is to wait until the elections to state assemblies (in the offing) get over and I believe that his very intent is a positive sign of things to come. I wish the proposal goes through when the time is right as it would help us lay the platform for many more reforms akin to the 1991 globalization.
Tuesday, 13 December 2011
We can sub-sell better
The major difference between a totally developed country like the United States and a country with large number of people below poverty line like India is that, in the former, almost everyone has access to products and services alike including but not restricted to healthcare, education, movies, taxes etc. According to 2007 estimates, India has about 25% population below the dreaded poverty line. Let's label that part of India as the "subsistence category". These people have money only for daily subsistence and not more.
In the recent past, India has been witnessing a swell in the number of people choosing the entrepreneurial path. In contrast to its definition in an empowered economic platform, the term entrepreneurship in the subsistence marketplace has a totally different definition. These entrepreneurs are not the usual literates with sharp business sense and superior technical prowess. They are local vegetable sellers, goods traders and petty shopkeepers. They are the people who can drive business in the aforementioned resource constrained contexts.
Knowing that, what stops these little "enter-preneurs" from growing and creating sustainable businesses? They face a heavy lack of resources that would enable them to sustain and expand. These resources include deep understanding of the market, cognizance of consumer behavior patterns, specialized and unique management techniques required for such scenarios and of course free flowing capital. When they ventured out, micro finance institutions resolved to address one part of this problem. They aimed at making capital easily available to small sellers in villages and towns. But that has not led to a success story of sorts in the few years of their operation. The reason for that is pretty much intuitive. Only one of the problems viz. availability of capital has been addressed and the rest of them still loom at large.In the process, these NBFCs (Non Banking Financial Corporations) have shown creativity and have invented as they increased their presence in various rural parts of the country. They provided highly interlinked and innovative insurance products with their micro loans. But they did not enable the consumers to innovate.
After witnessing repeated failures in the private microfinance sector led by SKC, government has come out with a new credit risk guarantee fund to enable established banks to lend to the poor. This, if implemented is definitely a step towards inclusive growth accompanied by the upliftment of a sizable number of people below poverty line. But, the other problems of market literacy and business strategy for subsistence marketplaces are being overlooked. Helping women to be part of this improvement cycle is a good strategy and many NGOs and microfinance institutions like IFMR have been exploring those options. It has yielded commendable results. But it has not created any sort of revolution per se.
The solution is to make these small businessmen understand the way in which low income households access and use the finances that are available to them. The bottom line is that besides providing capital, it is important to provide the awareness and teach the rural business people strategies and ways to use the capital in the best possible way so as to suit resource constrained markets and societies. Also, bigger businesses need to look at subsistence marketplaces as areas of possible growth. They should not only expand to such areas but also implement and teach selling techniques as they go about expanding. That would be an innovative version of a bottom-up approach in enabling growth and would teach consumers and sellers in the economically challenged geographies to buck up and be at par with the country's growth rate.
In the recent past, India has been witnessing a swell in the number of people choosing the entrepreneurial path. In contrast to its definition in an empowered economic platform, the term entrepreneurship in the subsistence marketplace has a totally different definition. These entrepreneurs are not the usual literates with sharp business sense and superior technical prowess. They are local vegetable sellers, goods traders and petty shopkeepers. They are the people who can drive business in the aforementioned resource constrained contexts.
Knowing that, what stops these little "enter-preneurs" from growing and creating sustainable businesses? They face a heavy lack of resources that would enable them to sustain and expand. These resources include deep understanding of the market, cognizance of consumer behavior patterns, specialized and unique management techniques required for such scenarios and of course free flowing capital. When they ventured out, micro finance institutions resolved to address one part of this problem. They aimed at making capital easily available to small sellers in villages and towns. But that has not led to a success story of sorts in the few years of their operation. The reason for that is pretty much intuitive. Only one of the problems viz. availability of capital has been addressed and the rest of them still loom at large.In the process, these NBFCs (Non Banking Financial Corporations) have shown creativity and have invented as they increased their presence in various rural parts of the country. They provided highly interlinked and innovative insurance products with their micro loans. But they did not enable the consumers to innovate.
After witnessing repeated failures in the private microfinance sector led by SKC, government has come out with a new credit risk guarantee fund to enable established banks to lend to the poor. This, if implemented is definitely a step towards inclusive growth accompanied by the upliftment of a sizable number of people below poverty line. But, the other problems of market literacy and business strategy for subsistence marketplaces are being overlooked. Helping women to be part of this improvement cycle is a good strategy and many NGOs and microfinance institutions like IFMR have been exploring those options. It has yielded commendable results. But it has not created any sort of revolution per se.
The solution is to make these small businessmen understand the way in which low income households access and use the finances that are available to them. The bottom line is that besides providing capital, it is important to provide the awareness and teach the rural business people strategies and ways to use the capital in the best possible way so as to suit resource constrained markets and societies. Also, bigger businesses need to look at subsistence marketplaces as areas of possible growth. They should not only expand to such areas but also implement and teach selling techniques as they go about expanding. That would be an innovative version of a bottom-up approach in enabling growth and would teach consumers and sellers in the economically challenged geographies to buck up and be at par with the country's growth rate.
Friday, 25 November 2011
Why this Kolaveri Singhji!
Long since I wrote...It has been a hiatus...I have been busy with other things and the usual blah that I start with can now go here....
Once we are on terms, here I am back to writing and it feels good to be back after the long break. I said in one of my previous posts that I might race Sachin and write my 100th post before his ton. To give a status update, I am on track. The man apparently paid homage to all time cricket great Sir Donald Bradman by getting out on 94 after 99 centuries. For people who missed the pun, Don Bradman retired with a test average of 99.94. Today morning was one of sorts. No, actually not. It has been of this sort for the past 8 or so months ever since he scored his 99th against South Africa. I woke up to some cheer and was looking forward to a day when Twitter and Facebook would be loaded with tons of posts about tons. But I was disappointed to say the least.
Ok, after going on tangent from the decided topic of writing, as ever, we get to the matter now. One Mr. Harvinder Singh is making news after he made a super double whammy. He first slapped former Union communications minister Sukhram and now chose the other big portfolio in the Indian cabinet viz. Agriculture and selected Messrs Sharad Pawar for the double. Anna Hazare's reaction to the sequence of events was astounding actually. He first asked "Only one slap??" and later went on to condone the scathing attack. The attacker interestingly said "Sab Chor Hain!" post his second act of bravery after getting past meager security for Mr Pawar. Media is full on about this juicy topic and debates about the ethical aspects of such an act are heatedly progressing.
Amidst so much for just a slap, one of my friends posted on facebook that he is more than willing to offer him a home in Chennai. I find that argument very sound right from its basics. Alexander once said something about home for the poor and Darwin or someone else in that league, (I don't remember) said about the fittest surviving on this planet. Now taking the two together, the chap is poor. Consider that he is a cab driver hailing from Delhi.He is fit and that fact is proven by his demeanor and physical stature while he goes on to extend the right hand on Pawar's angled cheek. Argumentatively, he is both fit and poor. So he should survive and he needs a home. Security guards thrashed him immediately after the incident and took him somewhere. I suspect they would have driven straight to some garage or some dilapidated mill (Like the Binny mill that features in almost all climax sequences of South Indian movies). All odds point to a good round of slaps and kicks and it is just a matter of time before he would be nabbed or shot in an encounter for what he has done. So Harvinder ji (I respect the fellow, forget ethics, he has all the guts in the world.) needs a home and a safe one at that.
At Kasturiba Nagar in Adyar, one such home exists for the area is well protected from all sides. For instance, there is the Buckingham Canal on one side, Fortis Malar hospital on the other and to add to the amenities and facilities, Adyar Fast food is located close to the aforementioned residence. A big hospital is safe and secure as explained and portrayed in movies like Ramana in Tamil and Tagore in Telugu. A patient who gets in never gets out. The other source of security namely the Buckingham canal is home to all kinds of reptiles to be found in South India and taking umbrage of such a large water body would keep searching special investigation teams away from snooping owing to the danger portended by the rich variety of fauna in that kind of terrain.
Choosing a place like Chennai might not work too well for a Punjabi mainly because of the non availability of Parathas. But one can make do with Parottas that we Chennaiites have on offer and talking of Parottas, Adyar Fast food which is located at a stone throw's distance would definitely come in handy. Another plus point about calling Chennai a safe haven for Slapping Singhs is the fact that it is far from Delhi and is a place that induces fear in a majority of North Indians living on the other end of the deccan plateau. (If all south Indians are Madrasis, I wouldn't be too wrong to classify the north of Deccan plateau as North India. Geographically pardonable I would say.). Pawar and Sukhram, or a bunch of yadavs and kapoors who form part of their security teams would find it difficult to reach their target in Chennai. With Chennai and Kasturba Nagar chosen for providing Harvinder with a safe home, what we are offering is nice 3BHK apartment, a good cook in her, a good hearted supporter in him and two fierce dogs in Sussee and Gabbar (3 feet tall and 2 feet wide labradors who have been fed to the brim with all good meat and cereals). A well founded idea. It would help the poor and fit survive in this country.
One may now ask me, "Why this Kolaveri" for writing such a very very kolaveri post. But that's the buzzword folks.
Lastly, I would like to thank Vijay Venkataramanan for triggering this idea behind the post.
Once we are on terms, here I am back to writing and it feels good to be back after the long break. I said in one of my previous posts that I might race Sachin and write my 100th post before his ton. To give a status update, I am on track. The man apparently paid homage to all time cricket great Sir Donald Bradman by getting out on 94 after 99 centuries. For people who missed the pun, Don Bradman retired with a test average of 99.94. Today morning was one of sorts. No, actually not. It has been of this sort for the past 8 or so months ever since he scored his 99th against South Africa. I woke up to some cheer and was looking forward to a day when Twitter and Facebook would be loaded with tons of posts about tons. But I was disappointed to say the least.
Ok, after going on tangent from the decided topic of writing, as ever, we get to the matter now. One Mr. Harvinder Singh is making news after he made a super double whammy. He first slapped former Union communications minister Sukhram and now chose the other big portfolio in the Indian cabinet viz. Agriculture and selected Messrs Sharad Pawar for the double. Anna Hazare's reaction to the sequence of events was astounding actually. He first asked "Only one slap??" and later went on to condone the scathing attack. The attacker interestingly said "Sab Chor Hain!" post his second act of bravery after getting past meager security for Mr Pawar. Media is full on about this juicy topic and debates about the ethical aspects of such an act are heatedly progressing.
Amidst so much for just a slap, one of my friends posted on facebook that he is more than willing to offer him a home in Chennai. I find that argument very sound right from its basics. Alexander once said something about home for the poor and Darwin or someone else in that league, (I don't remember) said about the fittest surviving on this planet. Now taking the two together, the chap is poor. Consider that he is a cab driver hailing from Delhi.He is fit and that fact is proven by his demeanor and physical stature while he goes on to extend the right hand on Pawar's angled cheek. Argumentatively, he is both fit and poor. So he should survive and he needs a home. Security guards thrashed him immediately after the incident and took him somewhere. I suspect they would have driven straight to some garage or some dilapidated mill (Like the Binny mill that features in almost all climax sequences of South Indian movies). All odds point to a good round of slaps and kicks and it is just a matter of time before he would be nabbed or shot in an encounter for what he has done. So Harvinder ji (I respect the fellow, forget ethics, he has all the guts in the world.) needs a home and a safe one at that.
At Kasturiba Nagar in Adyar, one such home exists for the area is well protected from all sides. For instance, there is the Buckingham Canal on one side, Fortis Malar hospital on the other and to add to the amenities and facilities, Adyar Fast food is located close to the aforementioned residence. A big hospital is safe and secure as explained and portrayed in movies like Ramana in Tamil and Tagore in Telugu. A patient who gets in never gets out. The other source of security namely the Buckingham canal is home to all kinds of reptiles to be found in South India and taking umbrage of such a large water body would keep searching special investigation teams away from snooping owing to the danger portended by the rich variety of fauna in that kind of terrain.
Choosing a place like Chennai might not work too well for a Punjabi mainly because of the non availability of Parathas. But one can make do with Parottas that we Chennaiites have on offer and talking of Parottas, Adyar Fast food which is located at a stone throw's distance would definitely come in handy. Another plus point about calling Chennai a safe haven for Slapping Singhs is the fact that it is far from Delhi and is a place that induces fear in a majority of North Indians living on the other end of the deccan plateau. (If all south Indians are Madrasis, I wouldn't be too wrong to classify the north of Deccan plateau as North India. Geographically pardonable I would say.). Pawar and Sukhram, or a bunch of yadavs and kapoors who form part of their security teams would find it difficult to reach their target in Chennai. With Chennai and Kasturba Nagar chosen for providing Harvinder with a safe home, what we are offering is nice 3BHK apartment, a good cook in her, a good hearted supporter in him and two fierce dogs in Sussee and Gabbar (3 feet tall and 2 feet wide labradors who have been fed to the brim with all good meat and cereals). A well founded idea. It would help the poor and fit survive in this country.
One may now ask me, "Why this Kolaveri" for writing such a very very kolaveri post. But that's the buzzword folks.
Lastly, I would like to thank Vijay Venkataramanan for triggering this idea behind the post.
Wednesday, 12 October 2011
Predicting this, that and those
Disclaimer : After long hours of revisiting older posts on this blog, one striking fact caught my livid attention. The first paragraph of any post has never had to do with the title or the topic I intended to cover. Beating around the bush and boring the faithful reader has been my way of causing disappointment (like the Indian team's way at England recently) So what I propose is that I will do away with the first paragraph from this time around (oops! ok...from the next time around) and come to matters straight.
Predicting the future is an art and yours truly has spoken many times earlier about this particular talent and its money making prospects. And like my view on many other forms of art, I am convinced that each of us should try our hands at it some time or the other. Prediction - according to my mobile dictionary, refers to the art of foretelling future events with no precision and all confidence. For example, the next Indian batsman's injury, the result of by elections in our constituency, the next poonam pandey who will rise to fame when England tour India, what scheme implemented/proposed by karunanidhi would Miss Jayalalitha call off and so on and so forth.
Kris Srikanth once called himself a wise predictor when he was interviewing with Rahul on Headlines Today about Indian team's R.I.P performance during the recently concluded England series. I request the reader not to confuse Rahul with one Mr. Arnab of Times Now fame. The latter is like a hot air balloon - full of gas. Rahul talks but he seldom farts. Coming back to Srikanth, Apparently he predicted India's world cup win months before the opening ceremony. My guess is he wanted to be the Paul (Octopus). In comparison, I somehow feel that Paul is a much more informed and prudent predictor than Kris for two reasons:
1. Paul didn't talk shit. He just hugged national flags
2. Kris doesn't have 8 legs
I don't have any prejudice against Kris the predictor, but I have a fair amount of bad experiences when it comes to his interviews on TV. He uses certain cliched phrases like 'Boss don't ask questions to increase your TRP', 'Dude you are joking', 'See, I am not here to talk for BCCI (who else would you talk for??) etc. Those are still ok. He once went to the extent of calling Sreesanth a bowler. I mean, there is a limit to talking non sense and that last one was over and above that limit.
But ironically, what I am going to do now is throw a few random predictions. But I would do my best to try and do the same Non-Krisically
A.) Harris Jeyaraj to become CEO of Microsoft.
Harris Jeyaraj is a successful music director in south Indian film circles. Now don't hit me with that rod. That is not my personal opinion. That's what they say out there. For now, take that as a given and come to analyze his core competencies. He is a maestro when it comes to researching about Latvian, Angolan, Japanese and Ethiopian music. His talents in picking up songs from the aforementioned genres and employing them with no changes whatsoever are immaculate. 'Boss', one cannot tell a HJ song from its Latvian original. So with such precision in lifting others' work/property he is definitely one who is tailor made to run a company like Microsoft. They are masters in that ball game and talk in my part of the town is that they have copyrighted Ctrl+C owing to their contributions in the field.
B.) Shahid Afridi to replace Manmohan Singh
Indian democracy is going through really tough times and people around the country are slowly coming to terms with scams, lies and more with unprecedented pace. Now such a situation is very tough for any government to handle and the work of the moment is for the Prime Minister to talk. This, precisely, is what Manmohan is not ready to do. He just wouldn't budge. Meetings in my office these days start with a mandatory decree that attendees put their phones on 'Manmohan Mode'. So the starkly contrasting personality in Afridi would probably be the panacea to our democracy's various ills at this point. He appears without summon anywhere and everywhere. What's even better? He talks and talks a lot with a superior sense of humor. He recently claimed that he has seen Sachin's right foot tremble when Shoaib Akhtar started taking run ups. How ingenuous. He could be our answer to the war of words in diplomatic matters with Pakistan. For instance, he could go and say He once saw Narendra Modi wear a white linen hat and do namaz at Thousand Lights mosque in Chennai. Gilani would probably call it truce if he hears such words.
Last but not the least,
C.) I would write my 101st post before Sachin gets his 100th ton.
D.) Following up on C, I predict that no one would realize I have littered this web space about hundred times and I still have a reader who doesn't give up on me (Thanks dude!. You make my day)
Predicting the future is an art and yours truly has spoken many times earlier about this particular talent and its money making prospects. And like my view on many other forms of art, I am convinced that each of us should try our hands at it some time or the other. Prediction - according to my mobile dictionary, refers to the art of foretelling future events with no precision and all confidence. For example, the next Indian batsman's injury, the result of by elections in our constituency, the next poonam pandey who will rise to fame when England tour India, what scheme implemented/proposed by karunanidhi would Miss Jayalalitha call off and so on and so forth.
Kris Srikanth once called himself a wise predictor when he was interviewing with Rahul on Headlines Today about Indian team's R.I.P performance during the recently concluded England series. I request the reader not to confuse Rahul with one Mr. Arnab of Times Now fame. The latter is like a hot air balloon - full of gas. Rahul talks but he seldom farts. Coming back to Srikanth, Apparently he predicted India's world cup win months before the opening ceremony. My guess is he wanted to be the Paul (Octopus). In comparison, I somehow feel that Paul is a much more informed and prudent predictor than Kris for two reasons:
1. Paul didn't talk shit. He just hugged national flags
2. Kris doesn't have 8 legs
I don't have any prejudice against Kris the predictor, but I have a fair amount of bad experiences when it comes to his interviews on TV. He uses certain cliched phrases like 'Boss don't ask questions to increase your TRP', 'Dude you are joking', 'See, I am not here to talk for BCCI (who else would you talk for??) etc. Those are still ok. He once went to the extent of calling Sreesanth a bowler. I mean, there is a limit to talking non sense and that last one was over and above that limit.
But ironically, what I am going to do now is throw a few random predictions. But I would do my best to try and do the same Non-Krisically
A.) Harris Jeyaraj to become CEO of Microsoft.
Harris Jeyaraj is a successful music director in south Indian film circles. Now don't hit me with that rod. That is not my personal opinion. That's what they say out there. For now, take that as a given and come to analyze his core competencies. He is a maestro when it comes to researching about Latvian, Angolan, Japanese and Ethiopian music. His talents in picking up songs from the aforementioned genres and employing them with no changes whatsoever are immaculate. 'Boss', one cannot tell a HJ song from its Latvian original. So with such precision in lifting others' work/property he is definitely one who is tailor made to run a company like Microsoft. They are masters in that ball game and talk in my part of the town is that they have copyrighted Ctrl+C owing to their contributions in the field.
B.) Shahid Afridi to replace Manmohan Singh
Indian democracy is going through really tough times and people around the country are slowly coming to terms with scams, lies and more with unprecedented pace. Now such a situation is very tough for any government to handle and the work of the moment is for the Prime Minister to talk. This, precisely, is what Manmohan is not ready to do. He just wouldn't budge. Meetings in my office these days start with a mandatory decree that attendees put their phones on 'Manmohan Mode'. So the starkly contrasting personality in Afridi would probably be the panacea to our democracy's various ills at this point. He appears without summon anywhere and everywhere. What's even better? He talks and talks a lot with a superior sense of humor. He recently claimed that he has seen Sachin's right foot tremble when Shoaib Akhtar started taking run ups. How ingenuous. He could be our answer to the war of words in diplomatic matters with Pakistan. For instance, he could go and say He once saw Narendra Modi wear a white linen hat and do namaz at Thousand Lights mosque in Chennai. Gilani would probably call it truce if he hears such words.
Last but not the least,
C.) I would write my 101st post before Sachin gets his 100th ton.
D.) Following up on C, I predict that no one would realize I have littered this web space about hundred times and I still have a reader who doesn't give up on me (Thanks dude!. You make my day)
Thursday, 29 September 2011
Hide and Seek. Where is the catcher?
The game of hide and seek has pretty simple rules. One person stays out at large while the others look for shrubs, shelves and staircases for a hiding. But the basic tenet will be defeated if the catcher himself goes hiding. This, if you come to think of it is like of of those infinite loops that you find in our code at work.
for( int i=0;i>-1:i++{
repeat....
till computer crashes.....
}
If you get my drift, the game extends to infinite time if the catcher goes hiding. This is the way out for an inept catcher to get off the hook and insult the players and that strategy is more often than not employed by street smart catchers who play this version of hide and seek. Now, that particular act is detrimental to the welfare of the game and the people playing it. One cannot keep breathing once every two minutes and hold his sneeze for decades together when under a bush full of mosquitoes. Sooner or later, he has to sneeze and the sound would awaken somebody else in the surroundings who would spot him in a very embarrassing position.
This, to be precise is what is happening with our government's quest for India's most wanted man. To draw the lines and complete my analogy. Our government is more like this catcher who inexplicably goes behind the screen and takes the rest of the country by surprise. Chota Shakeel and Anees Ibrahim are more like this random person who finds the hiding individual in a grotesque corner and blows the horn.
In fact Chota has similarities to my dad and this particular game is much like one I have played before. The sequence of events unfold thus:
1. I tell my dad that my brother is the catcher and that he wouldn't blow my horn as I hide behind his retreating chair.
2. I hide behind the chair and do breathing exercises with less or no sound.
3. My brother finishes counting 100 and opens his eyes (not that he was closing it till then, one corner saw the light after counting 27 actually)
4. He comes straight to dad who is reading the newspaper and signals to him. Of course the signal is understood by all. And like all, my dad understands it. He rolls his eyes to see I am watching and then turns his attention back to his paper.
5. His left finger is inadvertently pointing towards the rear part of his chair and my brother who can more or less put two and two together walks towards me and catches my shirt collar.
6. I resign to defeat, curse my dad and breathe a heavy sigh. Remember, I have been doing breathing exercises all this while. Ironically those exercises involve more of holding breath rather than letting the air go. So it is inevitable that I breathe like a gaping dog as soon as I get caught.
The Dawood story, as I try to meander back to the topic of this writing is strikingly similar to the aforementioned one from my diary until step 5. As with many bollywood movies these days, only the climax is different from the English version which was used as a reference. Chota plays my dad in this scintillating affair and does a favor to TRP hunter Rahul Kanwal of Headlines Today fame. He didn't point his finger in this particular instance but he dialed the number and said it all openly. There is so much talk about death of free speech in Pakistan these days but what is interesting to note is that there is no death of free speech about Pakistan. The don's palatial white house in Karachi hosted a high profile marriage and Chota was unexpectedly the spokesperson for this grand event as he spoke to Headlines Today with all candor.
Excerpts:Headlines Today: Several rumours regarding the wedding have been doing the rounds since April, May...
Chhota Shakeel: That is not correct, the wedding date was fixed and the wedding took place on that date.
Headlines Today: When did the nikaah take place and when was the reception?
Chhota Shakeel: 23rd September, Friday...
Headlines Today: What was the date of the nikaah?
Chhota Shakeel: 25th September, Sunday...
Headlines Today: Sunday was the dawat-e-walima?
Chhota Shakeel: Yes.
Even as the wedding and the reception got over, Dawood now plans to throw a gala reception.
Headlines Today: There are reports that you are planning a big reception?
Chhota Shakeel: We have not decided yet. If we do have one, we will let you know. In fact, we will send you an invitation.
Headlines Today: Will there be a reception or has the reception already taken place?
Anees Ibrahim: Reception is yet to take place.
Headlines Today: Will you hold the reception in London or in Dubai?
Anees Ibrahim: Delhi, Dubai or Nepal.
Possible Reactions
P.Chidambaram : I condemn the marriage. Such marriages are an insult to our relationship with Pakistan. They should have done it in Mumbai.
Pranab:This is a disgrace to Pakistani government's tactics. We told them not to float pictures on the internet.
Renuka Choudhary : Now we have a clue about his whereabouts that have eluded our intelligence bureau hitherto.
Sonia : UPA is determined to arrest the Dawood from Karachi in Gujarat (huh? at least she didn't say italy) in the next twenty four hours. But Mr. Modi is plotting against it and we will do the needful.
Manmohan : ............
....
.....
....
Still waiting for a response?
Poda, I won't repeat the rules once again!
He is the catcher. He will go hiding!
for( int i=0;i>-1:i++{
repeat....
till computer crashes.....
}
If you get my drift, the game extends to infinite time if the catcher goes hiding. This is the way out for an inept catcher to get off the hook and insult the players and that strategy is more often than not employed by street smart catchers who play this version of hide and seek. Now, that particular act is detrimental to the welfare of the game and the people playing it. One cannot keep breathing once every two minutes and hold his sneeze for decades together when under a bush full of mosquitoes. Sooner or later, he has to sneeze and the sound would awaken somebody else in the surroundings who would spot him in a very embarrassing position.
This, to be precise is what is happening with our government's quest for India's most wanted man. To draw the lines and complete my analogy. Our government is more like this catcher who inexplicably goes behind the screen and takes the rest of the country by surprise. Chota Shakeel and Anees Ibrahim are more like this random person who finds the hiding individual in a grotesque corner and blows the horn.
In fact Chota has similarities to my dad and this particular game is much like one I have played before. The sequence of events unfold thus:
1. I tell my dad that my brother is the catcher and that he wouldn't blow my horn as I hide behind his retreating chair.
2. I hide behind the chair and do breathing exercises with less or no sound.
3. My brother finishes counting 100 and opens his eyes (not that he was closing it till then, one corner saw the light after counting 27 actually)
4. He comes straight to dad who is reading the newspaper and signals to him. Of course the signal is understood by all. And like all, my dad understands it. He rolls his eyes to see I am watching and then turns his attention back to his paper.
5. His left finger is inadvertently pointing towards the rear part of his chair and my brother who can more or less put two and two together walks towards me and catches my shirt collar.
6. I resign to defeat, curse my dad and breathe a heavy sigh. Remember, I have been doing breathing exercises all this while. Ironically those exercises involve more of holding breath rather than letting the air go. So it is inevitable that I breathe like a gaping dog as soon as I get caught.
The Dawood story, as I try to meander back to the topic of this writing is strikingly similar to the aforementioned one from my diary until step 5. As with many bollywood movies these days, only the climax is different from the English version which was used as a reference. Chota plays my dad in this scintillating affair and does a favor to TRP hunter Rahul Kanwal of Headlines Today fame. He didn't point his finger in this particular instance but he dialed the number and said it all openly. There is so much talk about death of free speech in Pakistan these days but what is interesting to note is that there is no death of free speech about Pakistan. The don's palatial white house in Karachi hosted a high profile marriage and Chota was unexpectedly the spokesperson for this grand event as he spoke to Headlines Today with all candor.
Excerpts:Headlines Today: Several rumours regarding the wedding have been doing the rounds since April, May...
Chhota Shakeel: That is not correct, the wedding date was fixed and the wedding took place on that date.
Headlines Today: When did the nikaah take place and when was the reception?
Chhota Shakeel: 23rd September, Friday...
Headlines Today: What was the date of the nikaah?
Chhota Shakeel: 25th September, Sunday...
Headlines Today: Sunday was the dawat-e-walima?
Chhota Shakeel: Yes.
Even as the wedding and the reception got over, Dawood now plans to throw a gala reception.
Headlines Today: There are reports that you are planning a big reception?
Chhota Shakeel: We have not decided yet. If we do have one, we will let you know. In fact, we will send you an invitation.
Headlines Today: Will there be a reception or has the reception already taken place?
Anees Ibrahim: Reception is yet to take place.
Headlines Today: Will you hold the reception in London or in Dubai?
Anees Ibrahim: Delhi, Dubai or Nepal.
Possible Reactions
P.Chidambaram : I condemn the marriage. Such marriages are an insult to our relationship with Pakistan. They should have done it in Mumbai.
Pranab:This is a disgrace to Pakistani government's tactics. We told them not to float pictures on the internet.
Renuka Choudhary : Now we have a clue about his whereabouts that have eluded our intelligence bureau hitherto.
Sonia : UPA is determined to arrest the Dawood from Karachi in Gujarat (huh? at least she didn't say italy) in the next twenty four hours. But Mr. Modi is plotting against it and we will do the needful.
Manmohan : ............
....
.....
....
Still waiting for a response?
Poda, I won't repeat the rules once again!
He is the catcher. He will go hiding!
Thursday, 8 September 2011
I have a business idea
It has been a boring Thursday afternoon for all of us. Now don't act like a busy bee. You are reading this from your office laptop on a weekday evening and I very well know how you felt when you clicked the link to this page. I saw the smile on your face. Now, for my turn here comes one on mine. Because I have successfully chaffed you, my faithful reader. I don't have any idea actually. I was just fooling around. This is not something like an April prank that we used to play when we wore cotton trousers and canvas shoes. The fact of the matter is that what I call a business idea is an idea in reality but it doesn't have ingredients for a business.
I was skimming through the pages of a decently popular magazine here and one sentence in one of those numerous posts triggered a thought process which I intend to popularize under the banner named "idea". Ok, I see the seething emotion and the urge to hand me a tight slap. No, no haste. I will get to the matter NOW!
Experience and Wisdom suggest that any business idea is worthwhile only when the right combination of people/skill comes together to address an existing social/societal problem in a creative manner. So sticking to those kind of basics, I formulate three different sets of people who form the core of my proposition.
1. Your father and your mother, My father and my mother, All fathers and mothers.
2. HR teams focusing on background checks and those other allied back office chores.
3. Those matrimonial sites with pictures of chicks on their home page such as Rina, 23, MBA and Archana, 25, Software Professional
In the present Indian economic scenario with youth driving growth and average age of working population floating around 25 and 26 (or whatever number it is..I know it's in the 20s) and these young people doing wonders but lacking real experience and what not, I propose to introduce our very experienced fathers and mothers into the equation. Those silky smooth females at the HR front desk and back office of numerous multinational firms in our tier 1 cities are finding it really tough to do background checks on prospective males in the age group of 20-30 during their hiring processes. If the guy is from a state like Andhra for instance, the probability of his degree/experience/both being fake is 1 and if the guy is from Tamil Nadu with an acquired and fake accent, the probability of the person who took the telephonic round and the person who appeared for the face to face meeting being one and the same is closer to the other statistical touchstone - 0. With so many engineers littering Mother Earth as part of modern civilization, the task of verifying identities is becoming a monumental one for those poor HR ladies.
So having described the problem in detail, here is my solution. Consider my neighbour Priya here. She knows her future husband Bharathan’s salary and bank account details down to the last zero, his smoking or drinking habits if any, his past record with girls from school and college, his credit card balance, the amount of petrol in his car's tank at present, whether there is any trace of diabetes or schizophrenia in his family for 6 generations and how much property she is due to inherit in the event of his death and how much property they(as an entity together) will inherit in the event of his father's death. So my point is, there is an information overload with Priya, her father, her mother, her grandmother, her aunty and her sister (the people who did the groundwork to gather the information). Now, here is the proposal.
HR departments should outsource the job of gathering and presenting information about prospective candidates to these well informed set of people. Please don't miss the point. There are two types of jobs created here. 1. Work-from-home contract jobs for retired fathers and mothers and 2. Full-time data entry jobs for their beautiful daughters. Bring in the marriage portals into the picture. They hold the databases for such valuable information. Give them a cutting (say 1% or something for every profile download). These MNCs can happily delegate a part of their work to the aforementioned experts and sit back. Speeds up the process of verification and related activities and streamlines the hiring process with a focus on quality.
P.S : As the idea originated from me, I get royalty on a monthly/yearly basis and readers who seem to like the idea can think of themselves as the next generation Warren Buffets. They turn investors and get a dividend when the company goes public. Anyone with the money can contact me. Others (whose purses are just as light as mine) can like this post and be contented with the dividend they are to receive over time). Works like a charm for all concerned. Doesn't it?
I was skimming through the pages of a decently popular magazine here and one sentence in one of those numerous posts triggered a thought process which I intend to popularize under the banner named "idea". Ok, I see the seething emotion and the urge to hand me a tight slap. No, no haste. I will get to the matter NOW!
Experience and Wisdom suggest that any business idea is worthwhile only when the right combination of people/skill comes together to address an existing social/societal problem in a creative manner. So sticking to those kind of basics, I formulate three different sets of people who form the core of my proposition.
1. Your father and your mother, My father and my mother, All fathers and mothers.
2. HR teams focusing on background checks and those other allied back office chores.
3. Those matrimonial sites with pictures of chicks on their home page such as Rina, 23, MBA and Archana, 25, Software Professional
In the present Indian economic scenario with youth driving growth and average age of working population floating around 25 and 26 (or whatever number it is..I know it's in the 20s) and these young people doing wonders but lacking real experience and what not, I propose to introduce our very experienced fathers and mothers into the equation. Those silky smooth females at the HR front desk and back office of numerous multinational firms in our tier 1 cities are finding it really tough to do background checks on prospective males in the age group of 20-30 during their hiring processes. If the guy is from a state like Andhra for instance, the probability of his degree/experience/both being fake is 1 and if the guy is from Tamil Nadu with an acquired and fake accent, the probability of the person who took the telephonic round and the person who appeared for the face to face meeting being one and the same is closer to the other statistical touchstone - 0. With so many engineers littering Mother Earth as part of modern civilization, the task of verifying identities is becoming a monumental one for those poor HR ladies.
So having described the problem in detail, here is my solution. Consider my neighbour Priya here. She knows her future husband Bharathan’s salary and bank account details down to the last zero, his smoking or drinking habits if any, his past record with girls from school and college, his credit card balance, the amount of petrol in his car's tank at present, whether there is any trace of diabetes or schizophrenia in his family for 6 generations and how much property she is due to inherit in the event of his death and how much property they(as an entity together) will inherit in the event of his father's death. So my point is, there is an information overload with Priya, her father, her mother, her grandmother, her aunty and her sister (the people who did the groundwork to gather the information). Now, here is the proposal.
HR departments should outsource the job of gathering and presenting information about prospective candidates to these well informed set of people. Please don't miss the point. There are two types of jobs created here. 1. Work-from-home contract jobs for retired fathers and mothers and 2. Full-time data entry jobs for their beautiful daughters. Bring in the marriage portals into the picture. They hold the databases for such valuable information. Give them a cutting (say 1% or something for every profile download). These MNCs can happily delegate a part of their work to the aforementioned experts and sit back. Speeds up the process of verification and related activities and streamlines the hiring process with a focus on quality.
P.S : As the idea originated from me, I get royalty on a monthly/yearly basis and readers who seem to like the idea can think of themselves as the next generation Warren Buffets. They turn investors and get a dividend when the company goes public. Anyone with the money can contact me. Others (whose purses are just as light as mine) can like this post and be contented with the dividend they are to receive over time). Works like a charm for all concerned. Doesn't it?
Monday, 29 August 2011
No, it was Boys vs Boys only!
My work timings usually show a canny pattern. Late Monday mornings, early Friday evenings and mid week absconding are clear indications. I have never hit the accelerator anytime before 9:30 AM when it comes to a Monday morning after 2 full days of lazing, typical TGIF, OGIM (Oh God, It's Monday) syndromes, so to speak. But today marked a rather deviating phenomenon. I opened the 'gmail.com', facebook.com', 'football365.com' and 'onlinefootballmanager.co.uk' in that order, as early as 9:10 AM. Reason : I couldn't sleep. I missed the massive Man U - Arsenal clash yesterday owing to travel and though I knew the scoreline and other statistics since I was following it live from my Android application, I wanted to take a look at the highlights as soon as possible and my fingers were itching to hit footytube for a quick look at the highlights.
The last time Arsenal conceded 8 goals was back in 1896. We all know that the Arsenal team that played yesterday night was a very weakened one. But nobody is going to remember that night as a hiccup for a weakened Arsenal side. It would rather be remembered as "That great 8-2 mauling by United". And more importantly, it was not Men vs Boys but was an "average age 23" vs "an average age 23" affair.
What strikes me most is the fact that Arsenal are staring at this "not enough players who are fit" problem so early in the season. Usually, they do so towards the end and more often than not use it as an alibi for their shambolic displays from February to May.
I noticed some bizarre transfer market stats somewhere on the internet. It read as follows:
Net spending done by Arsenal over the last 10 years : -4224000 pounds (They've made money if you notice the minus sign)
Net spending done by United over the last 10 years :172651600 pounds
Net spending done by Chelsea over the last 10 years :540095600 pounds.
Competing for the title, winning trophies and other allied pleasures and accomplishments, that Wenger considers trival and pointless, are just not achievable with these kinds of numbers. I remember Arsenal fans calling names at players when they left for money. Ca$hley, Moneybayor and many more. Look at City. They spent, tried, spent more, tried more, spent even more and now have a formidable team, which on paper, looks like the best team in Europe. You can call Ashleys as Cashleys and all that sort of thing but to those players, it is after all work and what's the point when the team doesn't do well on the pitch? We quit our jobs and move on for better money and better prospects. Don't we? So many fans who are already in a state of disarray have started shouting at the top of their voice yet again. Spend some F**kin Cash. But this time, unlike earlier, Wenger cannot turn deaf ears to those cries. Looking at the league table now, with 1 point from 3 games, Arsenal are close to being in the relegation zone. It is now or never for Arsene, Arsenal and their bunch of self proclaimed "learned" fans. Money is money and Sport is sport and all that crap can gaily come to a close. To win, one needs money and success comes with intelligent investment (borrowing from management jargon). So, Hell yeah! Splash some cash or look down the drain.
On a different note, Manchester looks like the new football capital of England and with both the big guns throwing some weight this season, it sure looks as if the trophy shall stay at Manchester. But it'd be interesting to see if Chelsea (or Mata to be exact) can offer something of a fight to the title.
United fans, get the ball rolling and enjoy the moment, for this is one of the best times to be a United supporter.
The last time Arsenal conceded 8 goals was back in 1896. We all know that the Arsenal team that played yesterday night was a very weakened one. But nobody is going to remember that night as a hiccup for a weakened Arsenal side. It would rather be remembered as "That great 8-2 mauling by United". And more importantly, it was not Men vs Boys but was an "average age 23" vs "an average age 23" affair.
What strikes me most is the fact that Arsenal are staring at this "not enough players who are fit" problem so early in the season. Usually, they do so towards the end and more often than not use it as an alibi for their shambolic displays from February to May.
I noticed some bizarre transfer market stats somewhere on the internet. It read as follows:
Net spending done by Arsenal over the last 10 years : -4224000 pounds (They've made money if you notice the minus sign)
Net spending done by United over the last 10 years :172651600 pounds
Net spending done by Chelsea over the last 10 years :540095600 pounds.
Competing for the title, winning trophies and other allied pleasures and accomplishments, that Wenger considers trival and pointless, are just not achievable with these kinds of numbers. I remember Arsenal fans calling names at players when they left for money. Ca$hley, Moneybayor and many more. Look at City. They spent, tried, spent more, tried more, spent even more and now have a formidable team, which on paper, looks like the best team in Europe. You can call Ashleys as Cashleys and all that sort of thing but to those players, it is after all work and what's the point when the team doesn't do well on the pitch? We quit our jobs and move on for better money and better prospects. Don't we? So many fans who are already in a state of disarray have started shouting at the top of their voice yet again. Spend some F**kin Cash. But this time, unlike earlier, Wenger cannot turn deaf ears to those cries. Looking at the league table now, with 1 point from 3 games, Arsenal are close to being in the relegation zone. It is now or never for Arsene, Arsenal and their bunch of self proclaimed "learned" fans. Money is money and Sport is sport and all that crap can gaily come to a close. To win, one needs money and success comes with intelligent investment (borrowing from management jargon). So, Hell yeah! Splash some cash or look down the drain.
On a different note, Manchester looks like the new football capital of England and with both the big guns throwing some weight this season, it sure looks as if the trophy shall stay at Manchester. But it'd be interesting to see if Chelsea (or Mata to be exact) can offer something of a fight to the title.
United fans, get the ball rolling and enjoy the moment, for this is one of the best times to be a United supporter.
Tuesday, 23 August 2011
To her, the daughter of the mountains, with love!
The morning was fresh and beautiful with the sun peeping out of the clouds and the dew on top of the grass reflecting wonderful colors. He was walking along the footpath to get an auto and go to one of those beautiful catholic churches in God's own country. The autos were the old 80s style. They caught his attention. Much of the place had a serene rural outlook and it looked strikingly similar to those pictures he saw in the museums. The ones from the colonial era. He had always been a victim of those lovely magic potions that Kerala has to offer. The lovely weather, the beautiful backwaters and the stunning girls with their hair flowing free, fresh from the head bath.
Ernakulam is a small town, seen as a part of the larger Cochin, though like most twin cities, there isn't a border or line to separate their facades. It is all in a wonderful blend. The long corridor in the church had an air of peacefulness in it when he entered it for the first time. Many groups of people had gathered and they were chatting incessantly. He was a secret admirer of malayalam and those nasal sounds of chatter acted like magnet to him as he could understand some parts from those discussions. Towards the end of that long corridor stood a girl, who had come in with her parents and the three of them were eagerly looking at a lone lily that stood with all class and charm in the middle of a small artificial pond besides the passage. There was nothing more beautiful than the white lily and the school of fish that swam in the mini pond. But as he moved closer to that small congregation of three, it was not the lily that caught his eye, It was the girl who was admiring the lily. He stood like a statue for a passing moment, stunned by her appearance. The straight, dark hair flowing flamboyantly over her shoulders. Her charismatic eyes. Her mesmerizing lips were a thing of beauty. He felt an unprecedented joy when she suddenly gazed back at him, though only for a fleeting instant. At the moment, he was witnessing one of the most beautiful sights that have ever unfolded in front of him..all his life.
It was barely minutes before the congregation reduced in size from three to one and she was waving her hand at the departing couple. Her parents would come back to pick her up late in the afternoon. She stopped waving as they disappeared and noticed him as he briskly walked past her, back and forth. He never knew the art of breaking wonderful silences and even now it was the girl who just uttered something. He didn't believe what was happening around for an instant and blame the shock for his inability to comprehend those sweet set of syllables in malayalam. He paused to check if it was all real and to his joy, it really was. He said he couldn't speak malayalam and she quickly shifted to English. Conversation kicked in and they spoke animatedly for a few minutes. In the process, he lost himself completely amidst the sea of her charm.
The beautiful morning gave way to a humid afternoon as the function at the church went on without much attention to this romantic sonnet. The only activity he was engaged in was a series of stares at this new apple of his eye. A few of them noticed and many of them unnoticed. Einstein once said "Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute." And the words were so true to their meaning and in no time he was staring at the prospect of leaving the church when the function was over. Her parents were there again to take her back to the small town that she hailed from, a few miles south of Alapuzha.
He couldn't gather anything besides her name in the few minutes of conversation he had with her in the morning and as he saw her getting ready to move, he experienced a gush of blood flowing into his heart. He felt a need for some chivalry and courage at that moment though those aforementioned traits were very uncharacteristic of him. He took a credit card bill from his wallet and tore a small part from one of the rectangular edges. He was groping for words to write on that piece of pulp when his fingers jumped the gun without his cognizance. He looked down to see that he had already written his number and name on one side. The Adam in him wasn't that big a poet like Keats or Wordsworth. But he managed to write half a sentence on the rear side of the paper- "If you think we should be in touch...."
He slipped it under her cute pink bag that lay on a nearby table and started walking back home in quick strides as the function was over and the gathering had already dispersed. He didn't have the courage to look back but his heart started beating faster and faster as he made his way out of the church. He was wondering if she would see the note and pick it up. But he was afraid if it was too small and would go unnoticed. He slandered in whispers for not doing the act a bit more vividly. But the moment had gone and he couldn't get back anyway. He reached home and sat back in the reclining piece of furniture gazing at the fancy chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Minutes felt like hours and the ashtray slowly filled to its brim. But the beep from his mobile that he was so dearly yearning for didn't seem to appear. He woke up from the idyll that was going through his mind as his phone beeped about an hour later and for an instant he had his heart in his mouth. Words fail me as I try to describe his emotions at that moment. But the words on his mobile screen read "Hi. I picked up the note. Didn't expect one there though. How's the day? -" His joy knew no bounds and his fingers floundered as he drafted his reply. He was trying to speak his heart by way of the text message and as he was groping for poetic phrases, he heard yet another beep. But it was not from his phone this time. It was the sound of his alarm clock. He opened his eyes and surprisingly, found his mom with a cup of coffee standing beside his bed indicating something with her finger pointed at the clock. The clock read 14 10 hours. But he was looking at it upside down. So it was 7 40 am and it was time for him to wake up.
P.S : Apologies for the abrupt ending and a badly crafted anticlimax. But sometimes truth is bitter as the old adage goes and it is better hidden than confessed at large.
Ernakulam is a small town, seen as a part of the larger Cochin, though like most twin cities, there isn't a border or line to separate their facades. It is all in a wonderful blend. The long corridor in the church had an air of peacefulness in it when he entered it for the first time. Many groups of people had gathered and they were chatting incessantly. He was a secret admirer of malayalam and those nasal sounds of chatter acted like magnet to him as he could understand some parts from those discussions. Towards the end of that long corridor stood a girl, who had come in with her parents and the three of them were eagerly looking at a lone lily that stood with all class and charm in the middle of a small artificial pond besides the passage. There was nothing more beautiful than the white lily and the school of fish that swam in the mini pond. But as he moved closer to that small congregation of three, it was not the lily that caught his eye, It was the girl who was admiring the lily. He stood like a statue for a passing moment, stunned by her appearance. The straight, dark hair flowing flamboyantly over her shoulders. Her charismatic eyes. Her mesmerizing lips were a thing of beauty. He felt an unprecedented joy when she suddenly gazed back at him, though only for a fleeting instant. At the moment, he was witnessing one of the most beautiful sights that have ever unfolded in front of him..all his life.
It was barely minutes before the congregation reduced in size from three to one and she was waving her hand at the departing couple. Her parents would come back to pick her up late in the afternoon. She stopped waving as they disappeared and noticed him as he briskly walked past her, back and forth. He never knew the art of breaking wonderful silences and even now it was the girl who just uttered something. He didn't believe what was happening around for an instant and blame the shock for his inability to comprehend those sweet set of syllables in malayalam. He paused to check if it was all real and to his joy, it really was. He said he couldn't speak malayalam and she quickly shifted to English. Conversation kicked in and they spoke animatedly for a few minutes. In the process, he lost himself completely amidst the sea of her charm.
The beautiful morning gave way to a humid afternoon as the function at the church went on without much attention to this romantic sonnet. The only activity he was engaged in was a series of stares at this new apple of his eye. A few of them noticed and many of them unnoticed. Einstein once said "Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute." And the words were so true to their meaning and in no time he was staring at the prospect of leaving the church when the function was over. Her parents were there again to take her back to the small town that she hailed from, a few miles south of Alapuzha.
He couldn't gather anything besides her name in the few minutes of conversation he had with her in the morning and as he saw her getting ready to move, he experienced a gush of blood flowing into his heart. He felt a need for some chivalry and courage at that moment though those aforementioned traits were very uncharacteristic of him. He took a credit card bill from his wallet and tore a small part from one of the rectangular edges. He was groping for words to write on that piece of pulp when his fingers jumped the gun without his cognizance. He looked down to see that he had already written his number and name on one side. The Adam in him wasn't that big a poet like Keats or Wordsworth. But he managed to write half a sentence on the rear side of the paper- "If you think we should be in touch...."
He slipped it under her cute pink bag that lay on a nearby table and started walking back home in quick strides as the function was over and the gathering had already dispersed. He didn't have the courage to look back but his heart started beating faster and faster as he made his way out of the church. He was wondering if she would see the note and pick it up. But he was afraid if it was too small and would go unnoticed. He slandered in whispers for not doing the act a bit more vividly. But the moment had gone and he couldn't get back anyway. He reached home and sat back in the reclining piece of furniture gazing at the fancy chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Minutes felt like hours and the ashtray slowly filled to its brim. But the beep from his mobile that he was so dearly yearning for didn't seem to appear. He woke up from the idyll that was going through his mind as his phone beeped about an hour later and for an instant he had his heart in his mouth. Words fail me as I try to describe his emotions at that moment. But the words on his mobile screen read "Hi. I picked up the note. Didn't expect one there though. How's the day? -
P.S : Apologies for the abrupt ending and a badly crafted anticlimax. But sometimes truth is bitter as the old adage goes and it is better hidden than confessed at large.
Sunday, 14 August 2011
Yours Fervently, An Ardent Cricket fan
The Saturday meant a start to an amusing long weekend of sorts after quite some time and the self had woken to a rare rooster that crows late generally. Resting on the armchair like an octogenarian, I had breathed a lot of fresh air and was running through my mind the sequence of events that would follow in the next 3 days. That contained the following : read something to lift the spirits, drink a lot of coffee, eat to the stomach full, get the 11 hour sleep that has been evading for a while now and repeat the same in the order stated. Such was the beauty of the thought flow when the mind was particularly disturbed by a wayward sound that arose from somewhere in the neighbourhood. After curious onlooking, I found to my surprise that it was the gigantic wall clock that had caused the upset of the mind as the gong was doing its hourly duty at 3 hours post noon. Half an hour before the proceedings of the 4th day of the third test between India and England at Edgbaston.
It has been quite a while since I got myself deeply interested in a cricket match by and large. The last time such an instance was recorded was way back in March 2003 when Sehwag and Sachin entered the field to chase a mammoth 360 and Glenn McGrath had the shining red piece of leather to start the proceedings. After a considerable hiatus, the same interest started growing in me just before the ongoing series against England. What good parenting and modern pedagogic techniques that exemplify moral high ground have taught the growing youngster is that thing called maturity. As the body expands vertically and horizontally when man wakes up each morning to drink his cup of horlicks or viva or whatever suits him, the mind ought to expand. That, my ancestors used to call "maturity".
It has been well documented by learned people in the scriptures and elsewhere that mental maturity is quintessential for the uplifting of an individual. Though much has been talked about in this regard, what was visibly missing in my self as I got the bunch of potato chips and the plate of ground nuts in a move to gear up for a day of pleasing test cricket was the same thing that I have repeatedly lacked - maturity. To cut a long story short, what my heart ached at that particular juncture was for some legendary batting display from the few legendary batting names we have got on the roster so as to save the match and save our number one status by some hook or crook. This particular thought is a good example of an immature one at that. I call the very idea of the whim to be singularly childish. One cannot expect such a huge turnaround after two devastating performances at Lord's and Trent Bridge. But the heart ached for it in the same way it used to do back in 2002 and 2003 when Indian cricket was one of my highest priorities in life. I used to be an ardent fan way back then. But things have changed ever since and I moved on to other more intellectual addictions namely football, spirit, love and the rest of the things that G.K Chesterton used to talk about at length. So, this cricket fever recurring after such a long while was more of an aberration.
The end result? A big disappointment. Nothing that can be classified under the banner called sport has disappointed me to such a great extent, though I remember one instance when Benfica or some equally infernal force from Portugal knocked Man United out of Champions league and if my memory doesn't fail me, it was in the year 2005.After that one, now this particular disappointment from edgbaston made an impact on me and it was a sore one to say the least. The three matches that have taken England to summit from where India just toppled, were just a vindication of the visible listlessness in the Indian camp. There are cries and shouts inside the minds of the players and fans to abandon these humiliations and get back home, in the same way the Flintoff-led English team did during the 2008 terrorist attacks in Bombay. But we Indians are made of sterner stuff and it is not in our blood to call something off cheaply like that. We can continue to be distrait for ages and eons together but we shall not abandon. That fact being a given in the current scheme of things, the only logical thing to do is to somehow get over the fourth one as quickly as possible and start getting geared up for the five match one day series that is to follow. We could have been a very disheartened lot in the last 3 weeks, but the fact remains that it is not the end of the world and the one day series can help to make up for the shame quite a bit. So, along with the Indian team, I am telling myself after yesterday's horror collapse that all is not lost and that English August could after all culminate in an Indian September.
In Cricket, class is permanent and form is temporary. Let us hope to roar back in the one day series and worry about the test shambles in an introspection later in the year when we go down under.
It has been quite a while since I got myself deeply interested in a cricket match by and large. The last time such an instance was recorded was way back in March 2003 when Sehwag and Sachin entered the field to chase a mammoth 360 and Glenn McGrath had the shining red piece of leather to start the proceedings. After a considerable hiatus, the same interest started growing in me just before the ongoing series against England. What good parenting and modern pedagogic techniques that exemplify moral high ground have taught the growing youngster is that thing called maturity. As the body expands vertically and horizontally when man wakes up each morning to drink his cup of horlicks or viva or whatever suits him, the mind ought to expand. That, my ancestors used to call "maturity".
It has been well documented by learned people in the scriptures and elsewhere that mental maturity is quintessential for the uplifting of an individual. Though much has been talked about in this regard, what was visibly missing in my self as I got the bunch of potato chips and the plate of ground nuts in a move to gear up for a day of pleasing test cricket was the same thing that I have repeatedly lacked - maturity. To cut a long story short, what my heart ached at that particular juncture was for some legendary batting display from the few legendary batting names we have got on the roster so as to save the match and save our number one status by some hook or crook. This particular thought is a good example of an immature one at that. I call the very idea of the whim to be singularly childish. One cannot expect such a huge turnaround after two devastating performances at Lord's and Trent Bridge. But the heart ached for it in the same way it used to do back in 2002 and 2003 when Indian cricket was one of my highest priorities in life. I used to be an ardent fan way back then. But things have changed ever since and I moved on to other more intellectual addictions namely football, spirit, love and the rest of the things that G.K Chesterton used to talk about at length. So, this cricket fever recurring after such a long while was more of an aberration.
The end result? A big disappointment. Nothing that can be classified under the banner called sport has disappointed me to such a great extent, though I remember one instance when Benfica or some equally infernal force from Portugal knocked Man United out of Champions league and if my memory doesn't fail me, it was in the year 2005.After that one, now this particular disappointment from edgbaston made an impact on me and it was a sore one to say the least. The three matches that have taken England to summit from where India just toppled, were just a vindication of the visible listlessness in the Indian camp. There are cries and shouts inside the minds of the players and fans to abandon these humiliations and get back home, in the same way the Flintoff-led English team did during the 2008 terrorist attacks in Bombay. But we Indians are made of sterner stuff and it is not in our blood to call something off cheaply like that. We can continue to be distrait for ages and eons together but we shall not abandon. That fact being a given in the current scheme of things, the only logical thing to do is to somehow get over the fourth one as quickly as possible and start getting geared up for the five match one day series that is to follow. We could have been a very disheartened lot in the last 3 weeks, but the fact remains that it is not the end of the world and the one day series can help to make up for the shame quite a bit. So, along with the Indian team, I am telling myself after yesterday's horror collapse that all is not lost and that English August could after all culminate in an Indian September.
In Cricket, class is permanent and form is temporary. Let us hope to roar back in the one day series and worry about the test shambles in an introspection later in the year when we go down under.
Thursday, 28 July 2011
Mallu 007
Disclaimer : I spoof a lot of things on my blog and elsewhere and this is only one of those which are totally pun intended. So I request my mallu friends to take it like a man with whiskers. I mean, in that rightly valiant spirit that defines a man. I have pieces for other states too. Leaving them for the future, he is this one on Kerala.
We do this annual trip to Sabarimala and I have been doing it for about 20 years or so. It would do injustice to my diary if a page doesn't go towards Kerala and my observations there by and large.
We do this annual trip to Sabarimala and I have been doing it for about 20 years or so. It would do injustice to my diary if a page doesn't go towards Kerala and my observations there by and large.
- Both the CPI and Congress in the state have done nothing whatsoever to make amendments to the rule that men should wear a mustache to get their name on the state census. In fact, babies born with mustaches (One happened in July, 1968) are considered true and patriotic malayalis without any additional levels of screening.
- Shaving, as a routine or time pass is more or less considered criminal and as people from civilizations like ours do not wish to commit sins by and large, they brush aside the need to shave. Last time they saw a razor is recorded around 1848, when razors were much talked about owing to the period of French Revolution.
- Talking of razors and the historical bit associated with it, school text books in Kerala have a chapter dedicated to this lethal weapon and it has been gathered from underground channels that that particular chapter is to be marked with a double star and pages highlighted with a permanent marker. The razor subject is a very important question in the state board exams.
- Jesudas is a guy who non keralites find it tough to identify though he is a famous name and all that in musical circles (not musical chairs, the circles where those oldies talk about Kalyani, Sankarabharanam and the like). Simple reason : The beard. It has triggered an identity crisis in the state.
- Malayalam is a wonderfully sexy language. My first ever crush was on a malayali girl way back in my 4th grade or something and ever since, the language flows like music in my ear when someone speaks it. I am like, I go wowwww..so cute.... when someone says something like nyaan toylet poyi ippo kazhuvi vannu. The only other language that I classify under the 'sexy' category is bengali. (My second crush was from Calcutta)
- They don't cook in Kerala. Period. Unless one considers fish, meen, karuvadu and those related things as food, that is. Nothing else is edible, including their rice (The big, thick grains that I have always found heavy to carry from plate to mouth.)
- The way they put garlic and chilli powder in all and sundry eatables in Andhra, these chicks from the Kerala kitchen like to have their servings with coconut. The dishes may categorize under 'sweet' or 'savory'. Doesn't matter much.
- The lungi is one thing that is strikingly common between the tamils and keralites. But the color in the latter's is mind boggling. They are artists by birth. I mean, that category of modern arts and the corresponding artists. With all colors and nothing else on the canvas. But there is one stark difference. They don't prefer the pattapatti (striped boxer) under the lungi unlike tamils.
- Owing to the proximity to Kerala, tamil, which is an otherwise not so beautiful language in my humble opinion, sounds sweet in Kovai and Nellai districts. But no, I have not had girl friends from those areas broadly.
- The architecture of houses and villas in Kerala are just too good and they give an optical illusion of gulf money on their facade at first look. Glittering outers, just like currency notes.
- The amount of vegetation in Kerala is second only to the amount of vegetation on the upper lips of protagonists in Wodehouse novels. Bertie's occasional vegetation pips theirs once in a while. But otherwise, Kerala has a clean record of being on the top.
- One of the many reasons why I respect Kerala as a state is the vast difference in the quality of banana chips. They are not like the ones we get from the Kerala Bakery on Usman Road. Speaking of food, Nairs there, are just too good in their chai recipe. The nairs with shops on street corners in Chennai are mere imposters.
- Kerala stays close to my heart for one more reason. That is the only other state (first one being tamil nadu) on the map of india where the alphabets 'z' and 'h' make sense in combination. As in Kozhikode and Alapuzha. No one else can say it right. One of my colleagues from Bihar is taking a crash course from me on that, but he is not a bright student and not coping too well, I should say.
- Last but not least, how can I miss the 'koooffi', 'oomane', and other similar pronunciation patterns, if you get the drift. Sweeeeet! I can give anything for those sweet syllables uttered by that hot
Menon babe..I forgot her first name.
Wednesday, 20 July 2011
Human Capital
I stumbled upon a recent report somewhere on the internet, published by Rutgers University and Tata Institute of Social Sciences which said 53% of Indians, who had gone to the United States to pursue higher studies, want to come back. Or at least, they have said so. The report gave another number that could be of interest. Only 8% of them felt "they wanted to stay back". So the important thing to notice here is that 92% of people are either not happy or they just don't know if they are. This fact is interesting and it triggers a train of thought. Folks like me, who have chosen the alternative route by not opting to take an educational loan and get a Masters Degree from an ivy league university think these guys over there are having some good fun and they are not home-bound any soon. I mean, at least their avatars on social networks hint something of that sort. The trips and fun and frolic and what not.
One possible reason for this popular choice of moving abroad after under graduate studies is definitely explained by the money factor. The other is the plethora of "high-skilled" job opportunities out there as opposed to the situation here, where we still count more low-skilled ones, though we see ourselves as a "maturing economy" by the day. Basic economics suggests that a more educated population will bring prosperity to any economy. And that will also help the betterment of many other social indicators that define a country's growth. I read somewhere that though we can be happy about something like an 80% literacy rate in our country, there are only 4% of people who are "computer-educated".That is alarming.
With "local entrepreneurship" being the buzz word of modern times in our country, I think folks over there, on that side of the Atlantic, have a dilemma to ponder. It is probably one of the best times for them to walk back with their pockets loaded and try to make well advised technology investments in their homeland. Now, coming back to where I started, if 92 percent of them want to come back sooner or later, then what are they waiting for? What with the rumors about a possible second wave of recessionary times in the west, one should probably count one's silver and look up the air fares. What we as a country need right now, to avoid something like the middle east crisis where high rates of unemployment hampers growth, is for some quality people and quality jobs to sustain themselves inclusively as part of our growth story.
One simple reason why a country like ours still has so much more low-skilled opportunities than the high-skilled ones is the fact that most higher management positions in niche sectors are reserved for the advanced markets like the US and the Europe. But that situation is, more likely than not, prone to change because of the stunning increase in the number of quality entrepreneurial ventures emerging each day. One other aspect of this ideal scheme of things that I am defining, is how the government and the the educational system in India can do their part. About 20% percent of our population drop out after primary school, as yet another survey elsewhere points out. So to make people stick to the educational system to complete their studies, the system should mature and evolve. That will in turn apply the brakes on the battalion of under grads who were heading westward hitherto. I know I am not doing justice to practical sphere of politics, so to say, by weaving an extraordinarily ideal growth story for the future, like in those Shankar movie climax sequences. But I think that is the way forward.
P.S : I am not against going abroad and making a career out there. Neither am I claiming to be someone who would not put himself on the next flight if the situation calls for. I am just saying if a good number of people who want to come back, really come back and contribute to our story, then that contribution will definitely be one that will count.
One possible reason for this popular choice of moving abroad after under graduate studies is definitely explained by the money factor. The other is the plethora of "high-skilled" job opportunities out there as opposed to the situation here, where we still count more low-skilled ones, though we see ourselves as a "maturing economy" by the day. Basic economics suggests that a more educated population will bring prosperity to any economy. And that will also help the betterment of many other social indicators that define a country's growth. I read somewhere that though we can be happy about something like an 80% literacy rate in our country, there are only 4% of people who are "computer-educated".That is alarming.
With "local entrepreneurship" being the buzz word of modern times in our country, I think folks over there, on that side of the Atlantic, have a dilemma to ponder. It is probably one of the best times for them to walk back with their pockets loaded and try to make well advised technology investments in their homeland. Now, coming back to where I started, if 92 percent of them want to come back sooner or later, then what are they waiting for? What with the rumors about a possible second wave of recessionary times in the west, one should probably count one's silver and look up the air fares. What we as a country need right now, to avoid something like the middle east crisis where high rates of unemployment hampers growth, is for some quality people and quality jobs to sustain themselves inclusively as part of our growth story.
One simple reason why a country like ours still has so much more low-skilled opportunities than the high-skilled ones is the fact that most higher management positions in niche sectors are reserved for the advanced markets like the US and the Europe. But that situation is, more likely than not, prone to change because of the stunning increase in the number of quality entrepreneurial ventures emerging each day. One other aspect of this ideal scheme of things that I am defining, is how the government and the the educational system in India can do their part. About 20% percent of our population drop out after primary school, as yet another survey elsewhere points out. So to make people stick to the educational system to complete their studies, the system should mature and evolve. That will in turn apply the brakes on the battalion of under grads who were heading westward hitherto. I know I am not doing justice to practical sphere of politics, so to say, by weaving an extraordinarily ideal growth story for the future, like in those Shankar movie climax sequences. But I think that is the way forward.
P.S : I am not against going abroad and making a career out there. Neither am I claiming to be someone who would not put himself on the next flight if the situation calls for. I am just saying if a good number of people who want to come back, really come back and contribute to our story, then that contribution will definitely be one that will count.
Friday, 8 July 2011
1 Person -1'd this
I would definitely not be a fan of this particular product fron Google. Being in the IT industry makes each person a techie, like it or not. So, I have forcefully convinced myself to choose a side when it comes to this banal Google vs Microsoft war of the 2008s and 2009s (Those cubicle mates call you a fool if you can't make a point in an argument like that). I chose to be on the former's side. Still, this product especially doesn't seem to bring home the bacon, in my humble opinion. The argument is many fold. Examining each one in a bit of a detail,
Firstly, I don't seem to like the idea of someone telling me to form circles. I mean, I was that rebellious kind of blighter at school and I used to get pricked instantly when my PT master called the class to form circles for a republic day drill or an aerobics performance. It somehow sounded to me like a girl thing, this forming a circle business. Boys, in general, prefer other shapes, like square (as in four square) or triangle (as in love triangle). Circles are definitely not the preferred ones. Secondly, I have a serious problem with this new parlance that Google is trying to introduce. "Hangout". Sorry? I didn't get that. Hitherto, I have not appreciated this "Tooottaally Rrroocckkinnngg Ddduuuddeee!!!!!!" kinda behavior that is common amongst today's youth. I am not trying to act like that gaffer sitting at the bar parlour, narrating stories from his childhood to poor twenty-somethings. But then, this idea of "Wassup mannnn", "Kewl dood", "Yo maannn" et al. never seemed to give me any sort of high. So this "hangout" thing makes me throw in the towel.
The other major problem is this tendency of assorted scientists from random universities in the United States to barge into this platform instantly after it was labelled as "one for the geeks". I am referring to these PhD pursuing, french beard sporting, wannabe scientists who are by and large not my cup of tea. I have heard from various sources that words like "publish", "research", "nerd", "geek" and the like give orgasmic pleasures to these young gentlemen and that explains why the "Google + for nerds" campaign caught their attention. But, to hell with my wall full of these blokes? Tests my patience, if I choose to euphemise exact facts. What with the XXL size images that Google has chosen to use for pics on walls, it gives me nightmares to see dozens of french beards on one single page. I am not that bravo kind of guy who girls dream about in their dreams, picturing them on black horses and what not. I am that pince nez kinda guy who is afraid of dreadful sights after 11 pm in the night. So this business of scientists' profile pictures does give me nightmares for sure.
This man here has spoken at length about how moms wouldn't like Google +. He says she would have difficulties in having her text bold or italicized while she posts about her latest hair-do or her new piercing. The argument is that it is not as simple as clicking that 'B' button or the 'I' button. That thing pisses me off too. I am not that aunty kinda person, don't mistake me here. Just that I think text editors need to be plain and simple. This business of adding asterisks and hyphens in my text box is not an easy task for me. I prefer the click B fundamentals.
Now, I am running out of points to support my anti Google + stance. But I think it is important to drive home my point before that chick in the green tee yawns for the third time in as many minutes. Heyyy! that guy in the red formals, hold on..just a bit..I am kinda wrapping it up.
For a bachelor like me in his twenties, the one, all important and primary reason to be on FB or any other equivalent social media website is the amount of color and variety he gets to gaze (read as ogle) at. I mean, this "Google + is for the geeks" thing is threatening to drive away those female flies. (I seem to have so few girls on my friends list). In that case, where is our motivation to hold on? The PT master calling for a circle formation?? or the scientist from Purdue uploading his display pic?
Monk! I need a monk!
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
Of Marguerite St Just, Sir Percy Blackeney and those golden days!
Disclaimer : For those who are uninitiated with "The Scarlet Pimpernel", here's where you can get your copy. The rest of you, here's a piece dedicated to that marvel.
And for those to whom, these names do ring a distant bell, welcome back to the age of English I (Prose) and English II (Non Detail). 'The Scarlet Pimpernal' was among the non detail books that we read during high school. It surely has been one of the best reads for me till date, though I have matured from the school book reader to the regular bed-time reader. I vividly remember the opening scene of the novel portraying the busy guillotine at its ghastly work. The carnage ceasing only at the late hour of the day, so that people could move on to spectating another amusing event of sorts..viz. the massacre and abuse of the aristocrats who have been exercising tyranny hitherto. The Calais to Dover ferry is another thing that comes to mind when one thinks of those 3rd period English classes, where people took turns to step onto the teacher's dais and read their assigned chapter out loud. The ones who gave a lyrical and musical touch to the narration were an instant hit among the girls and our beautiful English teacher who used to test those boys from the back bench frequently for their language skills. Of course, those lucky ones who stood out by way of narrating it musically, became articles of scorn from fellow last benchers. But it never stopped one from trying one's best to catch the eye.
My personal favorite from that beautiful novel has always been this prose that repeatedly appears through the narration.
"We seek him here, we seek him there,
Those Frenchies seek him everywhere.
Is he in heaven?—Is he in hell?
That demmed, elusive Pimpernel."
I still remember the way I used to finish that paragraph stressing the "demmed elusive" with all the fervour and respect for the guy in command of the 20 member secret committee. The war between the secret society of English aristocrats and the conspirators at the guillotine was an enthralling one and the narrative of the spy novel was too good to resist for any high school guy. The eloquent blend of espionage and romance between the Scarlet and his wife makes for a wonderful ending. Chauvelin was probably one of the most successful villain characters of that era and his portrayal brings to mind Col. Hans Landa of Inglourious Basterds fame. Still, the literary character (Scarlet himself) who captured the imagination of many generations of readers from around the world was definitely the hero for many boys in my class and I remember how we used to steal scenes from the novel and enact it with modifications during those interval recesses in between classes. In fact, theories suggest that the twin lives of Zorro, Batman, Superman and the like have been copied from this one time and again since Orczy put pen on paper. Though the celluloid adaptations of the book didn't bring home the bacon, they become known names in the period drama genre as the movies and series captured something as sensitive as the French Revolution and espionage during that period.
All said and done, this one has been and will always be the most convincing book I have ever read and I would do injustice if I write a punch line to finish my lengthy acclaim of this novel.
Baroness Orczy, apparently wrote sequels to this masterpiece later on. But none of them made such an impact as this one. Here we are, talking about it 6 years later, on a fine monsoon afternoon, just because of the impact it has made in the minds of readers. I am sure those who have read the novel aloud in class, along with me, will second my opinion on this stunning book.
And for those to whom, these names do ring a distant bell, welcome back to the age of English I (Prose) and English II (Non Detail). 'The Scarlet Pimpernal' was among the non detail books that we read during high school. It surely has been one of the best reads for me till date, though I have matured from the school book reader to the regular bed-time reader. I vividly remember the opening scene of the novel portraying the busy guillotine at its ghastly work. The carnage ceasing only at the late hour of the day, so that people could move on to spectating another amusing event of sorts..viz. the massacre and abuse of the aristocrats who have been exercising tyranny hitherto. The Calais to Dover ferry is another thing that comes to mind when one thinks of those 3rd period English classes, where people took turns to step onto the teacher's dais and read their assigned chapter out loud. The ones who gave a lyrical and musical touch to the narration were an instant hit among the girls and our beautiful English teacher who used to test those boys from the back bench frequently for their language skills. Of course, those lucky ones who stood out by way of narrating it musically, became articles of scorn from fellow last benchers. But it never stopped one from trying one's best to catch the eye.
My personal favorite from that beautiful novel has always been this prose that repeatedly appears through the narration.
"We seek him here, we seek him there,
Those Frenchies seek him everywhere.
Is he in heaven?—Is he in hell?
That demmed, elusive Pimpernel."
I still remember the way I used to finish that paragraph stressing the "demmed elusive" with all the fervour and respect for the guy in command of the 20 member secret committee. The war between the secret society of English aristocrats and the conspirators at the guillotine was an enthralling one and the narrative of the spy novel was too good to resist for any high school guy. The eloquent blend of espionage and romance between the Scarlet and his wife makes for a wonderful ending. Chauvelin was probably one of the most successful villain characters of that era and his portrayal brings to mind Col. Hans Landa of Inglourious Basterds fame. Still, the literary character (Scarlet himself) who captured the imagination of many generations of readers from around the world was definitely the hero for many boys in my class and I remember how we used to steal scenes from the novel and enact it with modifications during those interval recesses in between classes. In fact, theories suggest that the twin lives of Zorro, Batman, Superman and the like have been copied from this one time and again since Orczy put pen on paper. Though the celluloid adaptations of the book didn't bring home the bacon, they become known names in the period drama genre as the movies and series captured something as sensitive as the French Revolution and espionage during that period.
All said and done, this one has been and will always be the most convincing book I have ever read and I would do injustice if I write a punch line to finish my lengthy acclaim of this novel.
Baroness Orczy, apparently wrote sequels to this masterpiece later on. But none of them made such an impact as this one. Here we are, talking about it 6 years later, on a fine monsoon afternoon, just because of the impact it has made in the minds of readers. I am sure those who have read the novel aloud in class, along with me, will second my opinion on this stunning book.
Friday, 1 July 2011
The way it felt in 2002
June 29th 2011 is going into the tennis book shelves as a date to remember. But for two completely ironical reasons surrounding one man. Roger Federer. The good part was the record Fed created for the number of continuous grand slam QF appearances. The other : the way Jo Wilfred Tsonga served to outclass class himself. It was definitely a sad visual for those ardent Fed-Ex fans. I am not that big a fan of the Swiss maestro. To say it with candour, I have never been a fan of someone who has ruled a sport for a really long while with very less danger from any opposition. Take for instance Schumacher, I have never convinced myself to back his red Ferrari during his reign as the king of racing. Coming back to the point, Federer's defeat to Tsonga portends something more than what met the eye that evening. It was in 2009 that he last won his dearest slam of all- The Wimbledon. The year before and the year after, Nadal showed him that athleticism and class in combination can outplay skill on a given bright summer morning, be it lawn or clay. The point is Federer's win in 2009 that sandwiches Nadal's wins on either side, was partly because Nadal had pulled out of that year's slam.
I am not trying to take anything away from Federer's trophy chest by downplaying any of his achievements. But I am afraid if 2011 is to him, what 2002 was to the master Pete. Nirmal Shekar pointed out on his column in The Hindu recently that Federer's loss to Tsonga reminded him of Sampras's loss to George Bastl in 2002. Bastl was ranked 145 in the list that year. After that devastating 5 setter, Sampras gave some food for sensation-hungry media by sitting on the pitch and staring at the grass, long after his conqueror left the stadium. But Federer gave nothing of that sort. He sported a composed look but with a blackish mask portraying doom as he waited for Tsonga to pack his kit bag. It was a heart breaking sight for anyone who loves the maestro. It was just a couple of days back that his picture with tendulkar made its rounds on social media and created a furore like never before. Fans doing their salutes and wishing their wishes, confident of another Wimbledon crown to prove his critics wrong. But this one was a sight that spoke louder than words. He went down in a macabre sort of way even after he played a decent game with only half as many unforced errors as his decisive opponent's. In contrast, Sampras played one of the worst games of his career in that loss to Bastl. But just 2 weeks later he went on to win the US Open as he conquered his arch rival Agassi to end his glittering career on a high.
I hope something like that happens to a man like Federer who is undoubtedly a master of this generation. Though, in my opinion, he might not be able to better Sampras's record of 7 titles at The Championships Wimbledon, I wish he gets to equal that number and retire on a high. But age is definitely something that is pitting against him. And Nadal's dominance is reaching new highs year after year. But the man has it in him to pull off something out of the blue and show the world that he is truly a champion. I wish a smooth retirement for a man of his class and I wish he conquers Nadal on that lush green court on the suburbs of London just once before making a bow. A win when Nadal was not in the fixture list was not good enough to make the point. A win in a grand slam final against the world no. 1 himself, would be what is a good show of true class and character.
P.S: I have always wanted Nadal to win whenever I saw him opposite Roger. But the way the latter went down this year is definitely a bad sign for tennis lovers who would like to see a legend pass out like a legend.
P.P.S : I so want Murray to win it this year though! An English winning it after ages!. Poor thing. Give one to them
I am not trying to take anything away from Federer's trophy chest by downplaying any of his achievements. But I am afraid if 2011 is to him, what 2002 was to the master Pete. Nirmal Shekar pointed out on his column in The Hindu recently that Federer's loss to Tsonga reminded him of Sampras's loss to George Bastl in 2002. Bastl was ranked 145 in the list that year. After that devastating 5 setter, Sampras gave some food for sensation-hungry media by sitting on the pitch and staring at the grass, long after his conqueror left the stadium. But Federer gave nothing of that sort. He sported a composed look but with a blackish mask portraying doom as he waited for Tsonga to pack his kit bag. It was a heart breaking sight for anyone who loves the maestro. It was just a couple of days back that his picture with tendulkar made its rounds on social media and created a furore like never before. Fans doing their salutes and wishing their wishes, confident of another Wimbledon crown to prove his critics wrong. But this one was a sight that spoke louder than words. He went down in a macabre sort of way even after he played a decent game with only half as many unforced errors as his decisive opponent's. In contrast, Sampras played one of the worst games of his career in that loss to Bastl. But just 2 weeks later he went on to win the US Open as he conquered his arch rival Agassi to end his glittering career on a high.
I hope something like that happens to a man like Federer who is undoubtedly a master of this generation. Though, in my opinion, he might not be able to better Sampras's record of 7 titles at The Championships Wimbledon, I wish he gets to equal that number and retire on a high. But age is definitely something that is pitting against him. And Nadal's dominance is reaching new highs year after year. But the man has it in him to pull off something out of the blue and show the world that he is truly a champion. I wish a smooth retirement for a man of his class and I wish he conquers Nadal on that lush green court on the suburbs of London just once before making a bow. A win when Nadal was not in the fixture list was not good enough to make the point. A win in a grand slam final against the world no. 1 himself, would be what is a good show of true class and character.
P.S: I have always wanted Nadal to win whenever I saw him opposite Roger. But the way the latter went down this year is definitely a bad sign for tennis lovers who would like to see a legend pass out like a legend.
P.P.S : I so want Murray to win it this year though! An English winning it after ages!. Poor thing. Give one to them
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
Super Human Samurai Mr Ganesh!
All of us have come across history books in our early years at school and have gained a lot of information from those compilations of accounts from the past. One thing that I, as a student, have always felt is that someone who has lived/is living in a fame-producing or notable lifestyle is 4/5 on odds to make it to one of those history books that we get to read. So, those like Genghis Khan, Adolf Hitler, Mother Teresa and Mahatma Gandhi have lived one such in their times. Likewise, there is going to be one other interesting character (fictitious to atheists of course) to go into the records. He is Mr Ganesh, son of Mr Siva and brother of Mr Murugan. So there we are, our own Lord Ganesha is making it to the shelves. The reason? He has made it to the current affairs book shelf already. What we have been practising for generations since childhood is now packaged by Yale University School of Medicine as Super Brain Yoga. Guess what the aim of that course is? To increase intelligence. Now this kind of thing is getting too banal. So many instances of deja vu for people from India who know about Indian tradition and culture quite a bit. The fight for patenting Turmeric is one that comes from the recent memory cache. The one about inventing zero and the one about lessons in astrology are other instances of this "We know it already" phenomenon.
What amuse me are the terms that we, modern men, employ for such findings that we think we have just invented. For example, this one, Super Brain Yoga, is defined as a technique that is based on ear acupuncture and subtle energy (Pranic Healing and Yoga have already displayed a good number of variations using this technique.) Other interesting factor about these things is the "Pilot studies" that go into such researches. Pilot studies on this one was conducted on school children with disabilities such as ADHD/ADD, developmental and cognitive delays, Down syndrome and specific learning disabilities. Now why do we have to do all this pilot thing and fly aircrafts in the sky? Rather just tell yourself to blindly listen to your aging dad and mom. Time and again they've proved that the lessons and the practices that they try to inculcate are of real value. I am not here for a sermon. Let me narrate what I used to think when my mom told me to do the "Pillayar Thopukaranam" while I was a kid.
I took it as lots of weird ear-rubbing, temple feeling kinda movements and stuff. Never really made sense to me. But then, how right were they after all.
Now to the science behind that thing. Some energy centers in our body are sites or centers for psychic faculties. When activation of certain energy centers occurs, they can even result in the development of certain psychic faculties. The right ear lobe corresponds to the left brain. The left ear lobe corresponds to the right brain. When the right ear lobe is gently squeezed with the left thumb and left index finger with the thumb outside, it produces the necessary energy connection. This connection causes the left brain and pituitary gland to become energized and activated. Similarly, when the left ear lobe is gently squeezed with the right thumb and right index finger with the thumb outside, it produces the necessary energy connection, which causes the right brain and pineal gland to become energized and activated. (Excerpt from the official site of the super brain yoga)
So something there uh! For people who still think all of this is just crap and bull shit, Yale wouldn't be fooling around unless it has something resembling 'substance' to say the least. So here's for people who want to subscribe to some yogi or baba (as they are famous these days) to teach you the "art of super brain yoga" or some such equally oblivious area of study. Just cut the crap, breathe deep and rub your ears on your own, without having to send money to a scammy person.(just like your mom told you to, while at the theru oram pillayar kovil (Ganesha Temple at the street corner)).
Shall we start now ????
No, you don't need to pay me for it.!
Right Hand to left ear, left hand to right ear......
..bend knee.....
....sigh!
I am not a good teacher. take a look at the thing here
P.S : You can spot me at that corner temple more often starting now, as I am on the job already. The job of becoming super intelligent. One like Shaktimaan or Sherlock Holmes anyone?
What amuse me are the terms that we, modern men, employ for such findings that we think we have just invented. For example, this one, Super Brain Yoga, is defined as a technique that is based on ear acupuncture and subtle energy (Pranic Healing and Yoga have already displayed a good number of variations using this technique.) Other interesting factor about these things is the "Pilot studies" that go into such researches. Pilot studies on this one was conducted on school children with disabilities such as ADHD/ADD, developmental and cognitive delays, Down syndrome and specific learning disabilities. Now why do we have to do all this pilot thing and fly aircrafts in the sky? Rather just tell yourself to blindly listen to your aging dad and mom. Time and again they've proved that the lessons and the practices that they try to inculcate are of real value. I am not here for a sermon. Let me narrate what I used to think when my mom told me to do the "Pillayar Thopukaranam" while I was a kid.
I took it as lots of weird ear-rubbing, temple feeling kinda movements and stuff. Never really made sense to me. But then, how right were they after all.
Now to the science behind that thing. Some energy centers in our body are sites or centers for psychic faculties. When activation of certain energy centers occurs, they can even result in the development of certain psychic faculties. The right ear lobe corresponds to the left brain. The left ear lobe corresponds to the right brain. When the right ear lobe is gently squeezed with the left thumb and left index finger with the thumb outside, it produces the necessary energy connection. This connection causes the left brain and pituitary gland to become energized and activated. Similarly, when the left ear lobe is gently squeezed with the right thumb and right index finger with the thumb outside, it produces the necessary energy connection, which causes the right brain and pineal gland to become energized and activated. (Excerpt from the official site of the super brain yoga)
So something there uh! For people who still think all of this is just crap and bull shit, Yale wouldn't be fooling around unless it has something resembling 'substance' to say the least. So here's for people who want to subscribe to some yogi or baba (as they are famous these days) to teach you the "art of super brain yoga" or some such equally oblivious area of study. Just cut the crap, breathe deep and rub your ears on your own, without having to send money to a scammy person.(just like your mom told you to, while at the theru oram pillayar kovil (Ganesha Temple at the street corner)).
Shall we start now ????
No, you don't need to pay me for it.!
Right Hand to left ear, left hand to right ear......
..bend knee.....
....sigh!
I am not a good teacher. take a look at the thing here
P.S : You can spot me at that corner temple more often starting now, as I am on the job already. The job of becoming super intelligent. One like Shaktimaan or Sherlock Holmes anyone?
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