575 – A code to friendship

One of my favourite Indian movie is a 2001 released “Dil Chahata Hai”.  One of the reason I connect to this movie is the road trip by three friends to Goa.  Almost a half decade before the release of that movie, I had enjoyed a similar journey with my friends.  However, similarity of trip just ends with the highway.

Unlike the movie, our ride was an ageing Premier Padmani and in that soap-box we were eight of us, with just one skilled and under-aged driver.

I remember that evening, when the mid-night children made a impromptu plan on a park bench and embarked the journey without consent of parents or girl-friends.

That road trip had some of the craziest moments of life, including a song and dance routine to tunes of “Yaari-hai iman mera yaar meri zindagi” in the halo of car's head-light – on NH-17.  A mad dash and skinny dip on some isolated beach of Konkan.  A sleepy driver running the car off road almost in to a villager's hut.  Running out of money and sleeping under moon in the cold of night.  But it had equal amount of camaraderie when we were in trouble with locals, resourcefulness when we were short of money, team work when we had to move the car with a broken gear-box to a garage.

Life has changed since then, our success have been measured on various scales at different times of life ... on scale of academics, binge drinking, hits with girls, number of visas, job, social standing and money.  All of us are scattered in various quadrants on each of those graphs.  However, if our success are to be plotted on graph of friendship, we would all be in the same quadrant – a quadrant with high on trust – high on affinity.

We never made those planned 575 kilometers to Goa and yet when I look back, for me that plan for 575 kilometers still remains a code to friendship for a group of boys.  A group of boys who still calls themselves ... “The Gang With Bang”.

Passionate? Fuel it!

Indian Premier League, an entertainment sports league has a recognisable visage of glamour and tinge of corruption through match fixing. However, under all those headlines hogging incidents it is also a platform for unknown sportsmen to showcase their passion and who else exemplifies it more than a young man in his forties. Praveen Tambe or PT as fondly called by his team mates.

Let's rewind three decades in past to maidans of Dadar, you could imagine two teenagers sweating to sharpen their cricketing skills, probably unknown to each other's existence. One of them has natural abilities gets noticed as prodigy and is recruited in national team. He proves the faith shown in him, earns respect from all greats of game, accolades from world over and love from every cricket crazy fan, he goes on to be the jewel of the nation. The other not so lucky, but passionate no less, he keeps knocking the wood and waiting for opportunity for three decades before the lady luck similes at him.

Parallel to those two stories there is another story unfolding in same city at same-time. A young ophthalmologist is diagnosed with a kidney aliment. The young doctor is advised a prognosis of little over one year and suggestion to get life insured. I am sure a furor of thoughts ran through his mind, questioning the gods for whatever they would be, worried thoughts for his ageing parents and so many others, which I can't even imagine.

But in those times of adversity he finds the fire in corner of his heart and he makes a conscious decision to conduct free cataract surgery for poor and needy, as long as he exists. A decade pans out, the aliment is long behind him and in his hands a world record hundred thousand cataract surgeries. Dr Tatyarao Lahane, goes on to be the dean of prestigious Sir J J hospital in Mumbai.

Three stories of passion, one story goes through the road of glamour, love and recognition and yet staying honest to his inner passion. The second stories travels through misery, hardship and probably being ridiculed, yet the theme of story is about staying honest to his inner passion. The third is an extra-ordinary story about fuelling the inner fire of passion in a personal tragedy.

The spectrum of passion is wide, it can ignite early in a prodigy or test a late bloomer, from knowing what you want to getting ignited by a turn of life at a cross-road, but what passion needs is enough fuel in belly. If you believe in your passion, keep fuelling it, keep living it.

The 1000 meters of Bandra Hill Road can give you glimpse to 1000 human emotions. Spiritual at one end and downright corrupt at the other. In between is mass of humanity swinging back and forth between two extremes. Midst of these are few rare snapshots of glorious past, chaotic patterns of present and fast approaching future.

Monologues of a Manager

My budget planning starts with allocating funds for tissue boxes, stationary and if I am any lucky I can throw in a team lunch.

Ah! My large tissue box is needs a refill, after all I don’t want tears create flash-flood at my desk. Some time I wonder that I should retire and start a baby sitter services at-least babies are cute and only time they cry is when they need to refill their tummies or replace their loaded diapers.

Life in bureaucracy is, if you are not interested to solve problem … throw the rule book at problem. You can practically live happy life pointing problems at everyone around you, right from the janitor to the CEO. Studying the rule book well is the key to Work-Life Balance.

Another day of squeeze. I wonder what was the moron thinking while hiring this herd of cattle and now want me to be the butcher.

I wonder if salve trading runs in my blood. I have these dreams of me standing on a large piece of rock, whipping the laborers to my sadistic pleasure and for what … building a glorified burial grave for the king. I got it … the king wants to infuse the economy by planning his own death.

Sometime I get nightmares of my early life, I use to be skinny 60 kg no flab worker, when I use to do produce real things, spending long hours at work, skipping my lunch, sacrificing social life. Then I wake up startled with a sweaty face, I have to drown myself with two shots of whiskey before I can go back and dream about counting my possessions.

Next technology investment in my company, I plan to plant bugs at everyone’s desk, the lobby area, smoking area, water cooler, elevator, rest room … ok rest rooms might be a little over-zealous. I am sure this information gathering exercise would generate lots of "Business" intelligence.

Wow! look at the diversity targets going upwards and proportional increase in insurance coverage for any litigation.

Had been to a people management seminar conducted by a Tantric Baba, itching to implement his theory: Deny any sense of self control to individuals or create that illusion and it will make them follow you like superstitious zombies.

I feel like a superstar of my aisle, throw tantrum, demand attention , grab credit for everything and throw some Zen crap around. No paparazzi please.

THINK, OK now erase it, START … TURN … Do as told … STOP and do it again, Tired? Retire

OK I think my bull-crap is no more digestible at work, time to pad my resume and look for another employer.

Facebook , Kumbh Mela and Filumy

Selling a Facebook Reunion app came naturally to these brothers: Vijay and Ajay, after all Facebook did help them to reunite after 20 years of separation.

They had lost each other on a train ride to Allahabad for Kumbh mela along with their parents. Both brothers had prankfully hidden under the samosa-wallah’s stall on a platform. Just when the Samosa-wallah caught them for their mischief, the train left the railway station with their parents coughing and sleeping on a III tier unreserved coach and the children tearfully chasing train.

While chasing the train Ajay had fallen into a large suitecase of an uber rich lady and landed in Mumbai to live a life of luxury. Meanwhile Vijay was adopted by a devote muslim child-less couple, who were on their home from Ajmer, where they had offered prayers for a child. Vijay was brought up as an farmer in interior of rural India toiling his days. Surprisingly, both were let to keep the Devi Maa’s locket around their neck, as the adopting parents thought it was the lucky charm that brought them the god’s blessing.

Then it happened 1 year back while both chasing their love interest on Facebook, Ajay stumbled on Vijay’s page as they both were trying to woe Radha. They exchanged lots of F*** words on each other’s wall, before Vijay had a good look at the Devi Maa’s locket on one of Ajay’s shared picture.

The striking similarity between the 2 cent junket, flash-backed him to 80’s and he realized that Ajay is his long lost brother. When Vijay and Ajay confirmed that they both had an identical birth mark under their left arm Pit, it further confirmed their brotherhood.

They both now have developed Facebook and IPhone app that matches profile and scans for birth mark similarities on all pictures. It seems it is one of the top-sellers at an App store. BTW they are still searching for their parents and in their spare time they hunt for the villainous Samosa-wallah.

Meanwhile somewhere in a graveyard of Mumbai a story-teller moans relentlessly as his bread and butter story line has been killed by Facebook and the iPhone apps.

A wise banyan tree stood once in a leisurely town at outskirt of a city, providing a gentle shade to all passer-bys. It's green leaves played with wind and its branches shelter to chirpy birds. Like magic it turned the heat, wind and rain into warmth. Like magic it filled the air with sweet sound, like a mother it cradled the life around it and like god it gave sanjeevini to the life around it.

So the wise men of the town worshipped it like a god and the young men treated it like a god. Their belief about its magic and divinity passed over generations. The tree transformed from a being just a tree to an icon of everything that the town had and the wise people built around it temple as a token of appreciation for it.

Soon the life evolved, the leisurely town was engulfed by a bustling city. First it brought buildings that could make wiser tomorrow and then it brought buildings that would make luxurious today. The life of men was transformed and leisurely comfort under the tree was replaced by materiel comfort of air-conditioned interiors.

We need better facilities said few and wise, we need place to be better gluttons, we need better place to splurge all our riches and we need build better roads to move our wonderful vehicles faster.

Alas, their path crossed where the icon stood. The wise men debated about its importance, the wiser men argued about importance about the progress and wisest of all stood far away from everything.

Finally they agreed to keep the temple and timber the tree. They had a grand celebration, the elected wisest came with all his men, they had huge pictures and billboards to announce their intention.

Then I, on beautiful morning of 22nd day of February in year 2010, passed the icon at the gate of IIT Powai, Mumbai. The Counting crow sprang from my stereo humming Big Yellow Taxi, while out of my window the icon was hacked into logs and its branches probably on its way to celebrate the Holi. Somewhere in background a hoarding screamed about using phones instead of a tree.

And I just kept going … being wiser that I was…..

A New Season.

2006 had been a good year until last week and just when the end of the year is around corner, life gave me a reality check.

There are people in our life who leave on us lasting impressions and build the foundation and strength of our character. These are people to whom you look with awe and within whom you find source of inspiration. You always want them around you and they keep us rooted to ground.

Then a day arrives when they leave us alone to walk our own line. They definitely must have seen strength with us and have set expectation for us that we would carry those thoughts ahead and we hope we can.

The old season is gone, the new season has dawned. I am not sure, if I should be expressing the grief over a season that has gone, a season which have reaped a rich harvest or celebrate the new season and new beginning.

My uncle left us on our path on 21st of December. He was one of the few people around whom I grew up, one of the few people in my life who taught me a lot. I may not have agreed to some of his thoughts, but I cannot deny his contribution to my life.

I am back!

It has been a month since I have landed in my dear country. It has not changed much, probably just the crowd has increased, more cement structures around, the contents in air and on TV channels are dense.

But I should admit there is no place like home and the One month sabatical from this blog must be a good indicator that I am loving it here.

My son is delighted to have me back .... or is it his PS2. My daughter she can't have enough of me. My wife.... she is happy that I am around so that she can nag me :)

I shall be writting more, but how frequently is a guess work now, but dear friends the important thing is... I am Back among my people.

Spreading Warmth in the lights of Deepavali.

Festivities of Diwali has a special significance in life of us Indians (the original Indians, not the mistaken). These are the days when the warmth and color in Indian hearts spreads across the landscape and the joy it brings along is dotted with tasteful cuisine and sound of fire-crackers.

So on the auspicious season of colours, sweets and lights…

…Best Wishes and Greetings from me and my family to you and your family.

Let the Lights of Diwali enlighten you, the Sweetness of Diwali bring joy to your life and those Colors of Diwali bring prosperity in your life.

PS: Now if you are one of those chair person, confined within your 6x6 cube for entire work day, please go easy on those sweets and for the hyperactive folks among you, please remember to play it safe (with firecrackers).

Understanding Marketing.

I had lost in touch with my blog and writting skills, so after some pondering, I thought I should return to my humor stream. This one is a rated A... so folks who might take it as offence for content, you can pass this blog.

There are times here or India that you are just pushed to buy products, sometimes it is fun if the products are gadget, but sometimes the sales folk just seems like PITA.

But yet we all do have friends who work in the dreaded profession. So how exactly would you distinguish which stream of Marketing your friend is, so here is a sample scenario which might help you determine, what exact stream of marketing your friend is from.

So you enter a party and your friend approaches this fabulos girl at party and tell her ... "I'm fantastic in Bed" ....and you should deduce that your friend is from Direct Marketing team.

Now if you are party and your friends asks you to go and speak with girl and request to point him and tell her that ... he is Fantastic in bed .... thats advertising industry man.

If your friend manages to get the girls number and next day happen to call her next day and say ... "Hi, I'm fantastic in bed." .... now this fellow is from Telemarketing person.

Now if your friend meets this fabulous girl, he sobers up to her, displays his finest chivalry and etiquets.. and while at parting after partying says ... "Hi, I'm fantastic in bed." .... Then this man has to be a Public Relations Person.

Finally if at this party all the girls walk to him and mutter within themselves ... "I hear he is fantastic in bed." ... then my friend he has Brand Recognition and must be A Brand Manager.

Eccentric Confessions.

On the days when your mind has a Blogger’s block and when your brain doesn’t seems to find anything to write about, getting tagged is kind of helpful.

Arch had me tagged asking me to write six weird stuff that I do. Now asking a weirdo about crazy things he does, is a simple question, but for weirdo to come-up with his best six crazy things is tough.

But this is an attempt.

#6. Procrastination @ work: I will probably explain this some other time.

#5. Playing video games: I just don’t want to grow out of comic books and video games..

#4. Looking at weighing scale: Every morning I stand on scale and wonder, when it would read below 170 lbs.

#3. Watching Antique Road show: I get solid kicks watching old junk from someone’s closet on PBS.

#2. Trying to get rid of my nose hair: I hate the growth of foliage right in my nostrils, so every morning I spend almost five minutes clearing them.

#1. Start and End my work in my Pajama: The first thing I do after I get up every morning is switch on my laptop and check my office mail and daily schedule and last thing I do before I sleep is check my office mail. Not that I am workaholic, but I have strange urge every day, even on holidays.

There are probably many other hidden talents in me, but I have to discover myself completely.

Business Travel

Now if I tell you that I had an opportunity of a business trip with a charming lady and get to spend few days in a room with another four beautiful ladies, you might doubt my character and some of you might even call me lucky. Believe me even though the ladies made plans to sabotage my reputation, I stayed true.

Organizations around world are pushing for diversity and women empowerment. In that room I felt the idea had gone a little too far, but I wasn’t complaining, why should I? However, I should admit that I was amazed at the intelligence and sense of humor possessed by these ladies, in whose company I had been in past few days.

While I am relishing on my last trip, ladies have already planned my next trip. The challenge is to explain these trips to my wife.

Mumbaikar ki Punekar

This is from a former Mumbaikar, who moved to Pune for a relatively stress-free life, like many other Mumbaikars. While there are many advantages of living in Pune — green spaces, fresher air, lesser traffic and cheaper housing — enterprise is certainly not one of them.

So this former Mumbaikar visited an upmarket watch store in Pune to change the battery on her Omega watch. The store insisted that she leaves behind the watch there for 24 hours. "This is an Omega. We need to open it carefully, clean it and then replace the battery, it will take a day." So, she decided against it.

Later, on a trip to Mumbai, she went to the Heera Panna shopping centre at Haji Ali to replace the battery. A store in the shopping complex replaced the battery in three-and-a-half minutes flat and to top that, within that time, they also took out three trays of designer watches and attempted to sell her another watch.

Talk about enterprise and talk about Mumbai, they are certainly synonymous.

In the Line of F******IRE.

“Humility must always be the portion of any man who receives acclaim earned in the blood of his followers and the sacrifices of his friends.” -- Dwight D. Eisenhower

In 2001 General went to Washington and signed up as voluntary Soldier in the war on Terror. Five years later General went to Cuba and signed up for a book writers club (Chavez is also publishing his book) and Devil bashing brigade.

Part of the General's book describes his version of few of the important events in Indo-Pak relations, the most appalling version is about Kargil heights. Instead of accepting the fact that their adventure in heights of Kargil were strategic and tactical mistake and learning to be humble and wiser with experience, which gave his country a bloody nose and earned nothing but shame, such a shame that they disowned their valorous Sons, who gave their life for his fancy, a shame that they didn’t even gave their soldiers their due or a honorable burial. He chooses to stand up in middle of important summit to pump his chest for all the imaginary triumph and point to others for the misery of his nation and choices made by his Nation, a Nation which otherwise that nation has great potential.

While it gave extremist among us one more reason to believe that the foundation of the land across the border is based on Stacks of lies.

If Humility is a small portion of General, then Optimism is other big portion. I think the General should be given another medal to pin on his chest, just for showing optimism.

I also have a growing belief that each time the good sensible people on this part of border were standing up with Olive branch, the General’s time-bomb choose to defuse. The General claims that he learnt the power of truth during one of his school boy misadventures, but I don’t think he took his lesson seriously.

I also don’t think he is fan of Spiderman, otherwise he would have understood … “With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility” and he is no more a student of Forman Christian College, but a General and President of a Nation.

While you chew on “Facts” in General’s current book, I am awaiting for his sequel titled “Confessions of Bounty Hunter” – Published by Pentagon press.

Langage de gestion

I assume since most of you have access to computer and Internet, you are familiar with Biz-Lingo we hear at work everyday. Here are few you might hear in such Gup-cup-shup

- Ahead of the curve
- Blame game
- Blended Rate
- Buy-in
- Burn-out
- Componentized
- Cover all the bases
- Customer-facing
- Deal-breaker
- Helicopter view
- Knowledge economy
- Nuclear option
- Pig in the python
- Plugged in
- Productise
- Pushback
- Upskill
- Value proposition
- Vulture fund

Please enlighten me with new additions to my limited vocabulary.

Here is Scott Adam’s take on Lingo-specialist:

Al-Gebra

Another copy paste stuff, but this is on a lighter note, with no disrespect intended towards victims of terror or those who have given their lives in the fight against terror...

A public school teacher was arrested today at the John F Kennedy International Airport as he attempted to board a flight while in possession of a ruler, a protractor, a setsquare, a slide rule and a calculator.

At a morning press conference, Attorney General John Ashcroft said he believes the man is a member of the notorious Al-Gebra movement. He did not identify the man, who has been charged by the FBI with carrying weapons of maths instruction.

"Al-Gebra is a problem for us," Ashcroft said. "They desire solutions by means and extremes, and sometimes go off on tangents in a search of absolute value," he said. "They use secret code names like 'x' and 'y' and refer to themselves as 'unknowns', but we have determined they belong to a common denominator of the axis of medieval with coordinates in every country," he added.

When asked to comment on the arrest, President George Bush said, "If God had wanted us to have better weapons of Maths instruction, He would have given us more fingers and toes." White House aides told reporters they could not recall a more intelligent or profound statement by the president.

My Angel

It seems just yesterday that my wife’s friend had showered her with Baby wishes.

My wife and myself barely had time or luxury to savor the joy of being first time parents, it is not that we don’t recollect those moments or we didn’t enjoy arrival of our son, just that we were consumed by daily struggle of life.

Good fortunes followed our Son’s footsteps to our home and we were able to give him quality time, love and caring. However, somewhere deep within us we both had a yearning to fill in the void and to relive the missed opportunity. Than God was kind enough and blessed us the joy of being expecting parenthood once again and we including our son cherished every moment of journey that lead to arrival of our little Angel.

I wish her a very happy birthday and express my gratitude to the almighty and friends who watched and wished for us.

Travel… Stress Free

Mumbaikars or Non-Mumbaikars, everyone must have enjoyed their share of roller coaster rides on the surface streets of our Maha-Bharat bhumi, after the blessing from Rain-God.

So some innovative among us has come-up with alternative means of transportation.
Entrepreneurs among us have found business on stagnant road traffic.

While the administration have come-up with alternative means so that none of us dare to file a PIL.

So friends next time you travel... Travel Stree free... otherwise get ready to be prosecuted.

(BTW the pictures copied here are actual pictures and not morphed, courtsey ... Mid-Day... Mumbai on Move)

Destructive Mind of a Demented Politician.

It is said that it was one Singh’s ill advise which made Mr. Gandhi open the door to Babri Majid so that Congress could lure the agitated Hindus after Shah-Banu case. After the debacle that followed, I had hoped that Congress had learned the hard facts of Indian politics, but guess not.

Congress remains the same, faces have changed, a decade and half later one Singh gets replaced by another.

The New Singh had to prove his worth in dynamics of great Indian Power trick, as the rumor mill started making noise that he was to loose his chair of Union Ministry and was to be packed off to a sabbatical as Governor of some state. Restless Singh had to come-up with a way to save his a*** and to prove his mantle to Goddess of Congress. And the imaginative mind of Mr. Singh came with two very innovative strategies.

First he got into center of attention using the reservation issue and divided India once again on caste lines. The poor students of medicine are still searching for cure. Then on second front he sang Vande Mattaram and ripped India once again on communal line. A song, which flamed patriotism in me, suddenly started sounding dissonant.

Kudus Mr. Singh, you have proved your worth, now Ms. Gandhi can you please kick this guy’s hind and show him road to salvation.

If Pink Floyd were an Indi-Rock group, they could have rehashed their song “Another Brick in Wall” to something like…

We don’t need no politician
We don’t need no thought control
No dark sarcasm from the podium.
Creatures live us Indians alone.
Hey! Leachers live us Indians alone!
All in all it’s just another stone on the glass.

All in all you are just another creep on the block.

Baited

I took the Beta-Blogger-Bait and now I am stuck. I cannot post comments on fellow bloggers site that have not moved to Beta-Blogger and not enabled other/anon commenting.

Now I know how that fish felt, after I boxed in ice-chest.