Well, lets not leave the universe in deep suspense. The Chennai Chapter of Anusmaran 2005 was a tremendous success, with all the invitees leaving (or staggering out of) the hotel with a smile on their lips, a song in their hearts and (in most cases) booze on their breath. But lets take it one step at a time.
So, its the evening before the party and this weird chap (who calls himself the Banquet Manager) at the hotel calls me up and cribs that his superiors (that unbearable bunch of insects) do not allow us to get the pepsi and beer from outside but for us, IIM Bangalore, he (oh, the magnanimity!!) would provide pepsi as part of the deal! Upon a little probing it emerged that we had written evidence that he had no problem with pepsi earlier, but no written evidence about the beer. So it goes. Then there was frantic phone calls to UB and arrangement of letter.
First thing Saturday morning, I go t UB's office and fax the letter to the hotel (dont think i can mention their name cos of slander n all but the standard disclaimers apply everywhere). Meanwhile, our man RK goes to the hotel and gets the pepsi and the beer into the hotel. I speak to the hotel's B.M. again and generally raise pointed issues about the hotel's professionalism. Then I was slightly pre-occupied for the rest of the afternoon. Anyways I got to the hotel by 6:15 in the evening, ready to rock n roll, and notice EIGHT missed calls from my dear grannie. Oh god, the mementoes! We'd forgotten the mementoes for the guests!! Ultimately I left at 7:30 for my granma's place, picked up the mementoes and came back, only to find that 80% of them were broken.. so none were distributed.
Anyways then RK gave a very interesting presentation on placements and stuff to a very bored and disinterested crowd..Then we played a few games which were a smash hit - especially the family-finding game. Of course the bar was open throughout which made the thing a whole lot more fun. The food was excellent, as expected, and the DJ wasn't bad either. When the disco lights came on, the younger alumni began to really shake a leg, and overall a jolly good time was had by all.
Eventually, we even had lots and lots of booze left and we all piled into M's car like we were made of velcro and unpacked ourselves when we reached IFMR, stocked it up with left over alcohol.
The end of an excellent evening, even though we didn't make as much money as we'd hoped.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
The Alumni
This weekend is supposed to be IIMB's annual alumni meet. Anusmaran. So I've been a little bit tied up with running around for that. That conjures up a very very weird image - tied up running around. Surprisingly, this running has put me in an amazingly good mood - adrenalin rush n all that i guess...
You'd never realise its so much work organising a party - get the hotel, get the food, get the DJ, get the alcohol, get the pepsi (and this is not an endorsement of any kind of pepsi over coke - u can get that if u like), get the sponsorship.
Oh, and get the guests, in case someone forgets to do that.
This is when you start running into trouble. Everyone wants money, and you have none. Whatever happened to the glorious knightly spirit of generosity, chivalry and giving me money? So then you run to various companies and give them the story, sell Anusmaran to them. And then they say that they'd love to partner with us but...
Finally you manage to scrape together barely enough money to stay afloat, when the major liquor sponshorship deal that was happening across the country falls through and you are left with no drinks for the guests !!
Oh, and the hotel decides its against hotel policy to allow you to get drinks (soft, hard or spongy) from outside and so you have to guzzle hotel drinks which are overcharged at premiums of 200% or more. So you run around some more and get the beverage company to deal directly with the hotel.
Then you realise you have to have games for the guests. So you sit up inventing something inventive :)!
Then suddenly, two days before saturday you realise that someone has to tell the guests that there's this huge bash going on on the weekend! Oh well, hopefully someone'll turn up.
Watch out for a post on the coming weekend. Anusmaran and more !
You'd never realise its so much work organising a party - get the hotel, get the food, get the DJ, get the alcohol, get the pepsi (and this is not an endorsement of any kind of pepsi over coke - u can get that if u like), get the sponsorship.
Oh, and get the guests, in case someone forgets to do that.
This is when you start running into trouble. Everyone wants money, and you have none. Whatever happened to the glorious knightly spirit of generosity, chivalry and giving me money? So then you run to various companies and give them the story, sell Anusmaran to them. And then they say that they'd love to partner with us but...
Finally you manage to scrape together barely enough money to stay afloat, when the major liquor sponshorship deal that was happening across the country falls through and you are left with no drinks for the guests !!
Oh, and the hotel decides its against hotel policy to allow you to get drinks (soft, hard or spongy) from outside and so you have to guzzle hotel drinks which are overcharged at premiums of 200% or more. So you run around some more and get the beverage company to deal directly with the hotel.
Then you realise you have to have games for the guests. So you sit up inventing something inventive :)!
Then suddenly, two days before saturday you realise that someone has to tell the guests that there's this huge bash going on on the weekend! Oh well, hopefully someone'll turn up.
Watch out for a post on the coming weekend. Anusmaran and more !
The Oily Summer
Well, its been a long, long time.
Things have changed in my life. For the better, for the worse, depending on your point of view. For one, I'm earning. Wow. That's like totally unexpected. Rajeev? A job? Responsibility? Stuff like that? On the other hand, I'm broke. Always. Its like one of life's terrible tragic ironies.
Where did I leave off? Third term went reasonably well. My standards of course, are not everyone else's. Project Work etc.. Not too much blogwork. Alienated people. Avoided people. Met people. At Unmaad and all, for those in the know.
Back to my project. At Castrol. I was surprised that i was stationed at Chennai. The land famous for heat, sweat and now, me. A lubricating oil company, an oily city. Not just because of the sweat. Anyways, expected a lot of touring and travelling, but doing a lot of it over that blessed invention called the phone. God bless Alexander Graham Bell. Also Bless the dude who invented the airconditioner.
Oil, oil, oil. Met a few distributors. Talked to a lot more. Again, oily people. It all boils down to that in the industry. I got to really rub them with the ol' oil before the start talking. Of course, my project isnt running like a well-oiled machine, but the analogy still holds. Its moving along like a one-legged octagenarian trying to do a waltz on an oily dance floor.
Ah well, the cribs are over. This isnt gonna be a summer I'm gonna forget anyway. Lots of good things happened as well. One very good thing. And I think I'll keep this blog more active now.
Things have changed in my life. For the better, for the worse, depending on your point of view. For one, I'm earning. Wow. That's like totally unexpected. Rajeev? A job? Responsibility? Stuff like that? On the other hand, I'm broke. Always. Its like one of life's terrible tragic ironies.
Where did I leave off? Third term went reasonably well. My standards of course, are not everyone else's. Project Work etc.. Not too much blogwork. Alienated people. Avoided people. Met people. At Unmaad and all, for those in the know.
Back to my project. At Castrol. I was surprised that i was stationed at Chennai. The land famous for heat, sweat and now, me. A lubricating oil company, an oily city. Not just because of the sweat. Anyways, expected a lot of touring and travelling, but doing a lot of it over that blessed invention called the phone. God bless Alexander Graham Bell. Also Bless the dude who invented the airconditioner.
Oil, oil, oil. Met a few distributors. Talked to a lot more. Again, oily people. It all boils down to that in the industry. I got to really rub them with the ol' oil before the start talking. Of course, my project isnt running like a well-oiled machine, but the analogy still holds. Its moving along like a one-legged octagenarian trying to do a waltz on an oily dance floor.
Ah well, the cribs are over. This isnt gonna be a summer I'm gonna forget anyway. Lots of good things happened as well. One very good thing. And I think I'll keep this blog more active now.
Monday, May 16, 2005
The Girl
How can I keep from talking about her? She's all I've thought about since mid-April. I don't really care if a nosy gossip columnist reads this and splashes it all over society's Page 3 (fat chance), or even Twisted Shout (!) but I'm in love. And wonder of wonders, she is too. With me, which is even more unbelievable.
She's everything I've ever wanted, and a lot of things I didn't expect! Like John Denver's Annie, she fills up my senses. In every pore. Like quicksand, like a flash of lightning. Only its a permanent flash, and looks like its going to last a really long time.
Am I smitten? Oh yes, I am. I can actually say things (and mean them) like her eyes are pools of liquid fire, and not feel like a corny, romantic fool. The surest, deadliest sign of love is when you start saying things like that. When you think eleven red roses and a pathetic attempt at poetry written on a yellowing scrap of paper is romantic. When you can spend hours, mesmerised, thinking about those eyes.
What do I feel for her? Its hard to describe. There are no words in the language that cover the feeling. Happiness isn't quite right. Nor is joy, nor ecstasy. Love is too cliched. Its like the feeling you get when you smell the first rains of the monsoon, when you see rows and rows of gulmohur trees in full bloom, when you are so carefree that you can go singing and dancing in the pouring rain. It's sort of like the feeling a little boy gets when he sails a paper boat, but not quite. Sort of like the feeling an artist gets as he licks the brush before the painting, but not quite.
She means a lot to me now, she is my Rati, my Aphrodite, my Venus, my very own Goddess of Beauty. And she is breathtaking, trust me.
She is my girl.
She's everything I've ever wanted, and a lot of things I didn't expect! Like John Denver's Annie, she fills up my senses. In every pore. Like quicksand, like a flash of lightning. Only its a permanent flash, and looks like its going to last a really long time.
Am I smitten? Oh yes, I am. I can actually say things (and mean them) like her eyes are pools of liquid fire, and not feel like a corny, romantic fool. The surest, deadliest sign of love is when you start saying things like that. When you think eleven red roses and a pathetic attempt at poetry written on a yellowing scrap of paper is romantic. When you can spend hours, mesmerised, thinking about those eyes.
What do I feel for her? Its hard to describe. There are no words in the language that cover the feeling. Happiness isn't quite right. Nor is joy, nor ecstasy. Love is too cliched. Its like the feeling you get when you smell the first rains of the monsoon, when you see rows and rows of gulmohur trees in full bloom, when you are so carefree that you can go singing and dancing in the pouring rain. It's sort of like the feeling a little boy gets when he sails a paper boat, but not quite. Sort of like the feeling an artist gets as he licks the brush before the painting, but not quite.
She means a lot to me now, she is my Rati, my Aphrodite, my Venus, my very own Goddess of Beauty. And she is breathtaking, trust me.
She is my girl.
Wednesday, February 2, 2005
The Second Coming
- Sometimes I wonder why I'm so troubled these days. I mope, nothing seems to be going right. People say I'm getting cranky. Bonkers. I can't go there again. Smoke seems to be choking my lungs, and I've never touched a cigarette yet in my life. And then I just think its all morbid self-pity. I like that phrase. So anyway, I need some change in my life. My lie. Monotony really gets me down. Inspiration drawn from Yeats' poem, "The Second Coming". Hey, if Achebe can get inspired, so can I. Here's the poem. By W B Yeats.
- Turning and turning in the widening gyre
- The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
- Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
- Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
- The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
- The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
- The best lack all conviction, while the worst
- Are full of passionate intensity.
-
- Surely some revelation is at hand;
- Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
- The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
- When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
- Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert
- A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
- A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
- Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
- Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
- The darkness drops again; but now I know
- That twenty centuries of stony sleep
- Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
- And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
- Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
----------------------------------------------
Tuesday, February 1, 2005
The Festival
Unmaad's over. What remains is a feeling of weird emptiness. It was fun while it lasted, I suppose. I was on the informals stage most of the time, making an absolute ass of myself. Not that I don't do that when I'm not on stage, but still. Lots of fun. Did a lot of things I wouldn't normally do, I suppose. Wore bandannas and all. Looked like a total jackass. Scarred my charming face for it too.
Strings and Indian Ocean kicked ass on the first day, and Parikrama blew people away on the final day, or so I hear. Couldn't make the Parikrama show. And surprise, surprise. There were two L-squares; amazing fun. Yeah, like L-square is where you'll find me on Saturday nights! It is just so much fun watching people get drunk. Anyway, that's a topic for another post. Back to unmaad.
Nothing like Saarang though. The crowds at the end of January in that campus in Adyar have to be seen to be believed. And experienced. Unmaad was just trying too hard. But you still put your heart into the festival, you work with your pals to make it a success, and when it does succeed, you're on top of the world. Saarang's too huge to feel that. You're more a cog in a machine there. Here, you are the whole machine. Amazing, it is.The painful part of course was Strategy class the next day. Who has the time or the patience to read a 40 page case on the Indian Watch Industry after a festival like that? Had to be done though.
Unmaad has helped though. My life was spiralling out of control before the festival. My room was a mess, my grades, well... and my love life, hah! I was sliding fast downhill, and getting bruised by gazillions of tiny little pebbles along the way. Now, I've cleaned up my room. My bed's back, a couple of tables. So now, its still spiralling, but slower. The process of change has begun. The Dark Lord shall be defeated. And all such crap.
Things are turning. Turbulence has set in. I'll wait and watch. Feel like I've been strapped into a roller coaster and I'm just waiting for the chap to press the button. Or like I'm at the top of the playground slide and the world's at my feet. Will I crash into it? Or just fly over it? We're scheduled for takeoff. Hold your breath.
Strings and Indian Ocean kicked ass on the first day, and Parikrama blew people away on the final day, or so I hear. Couldn't make the Parikrama show. And surprise, surprise. There were two L-squares; amazing fun. Yeah, like L-square is where you'll find me on Saturday nights! It is just so much fun watching people get drunk. Anyway, that's a topic for another post. Back to unmaad.
Nothing like Saarang though. The crowds at the end of January in that campus in Adyar have to be seen to be believed. And experienced. Unmaad was just trying too hard. But you still put your heart into the festival, you work with your pals to make it a success, and when it does succeed, you're on top of the world. Saarang's too huge to feel that. You're more a cog in a machine there. Here, you are the whole machine. Amazing, it is.The painful part of course was Strategy class the next day. Who has the time or the patience to read a 40 page case on the Indian Watch Industry after a festival like that? Had to be done though.
Unmaad has helped though. My life was spiralling out of control before the festival. My room was a mess, my grades, well... and my love life, hah! I was sliding fast downhill, and getting bruised by gazillions of tiny little pebbles along the way. Now, I've cleaned up my room. My bed's back, a couple of tables. So now, its still spiralling, but slower. The process of change has begun. The Dark Lord shall be defeated. And all such crap.
Things are turning. Turbulence has set in. I'll wait and watch. Feel like I've been strapped into a roller coaster and I'm just waiting for the chap to press the button. Or like I'm at the top of the playground slide and the world's at my feet. Will I crash into it? Or just fly over it? We're scheduled for takeoff. Hold your breath.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
The Run-up
Joy. The run-up to Unmaad, our very own cultural extravaganza (!) here at IIMB has begun. So, I finally got to paint!! That's good news, by the way. Now my hands smell of turpentine and my eyes look as if I'm in a state of coma, but that's okay really. I'm having fun, and that's all that matters.
My room got a makeover today as well. The cot came back in, and a couple of tables. Sweeping, general cleaning was done. Any visitors to my room are likely to be considerably shocked. Does this have any connection with Unmaad? No, I don't really think so. My life needed change. That's always welcome actually. Who doesn't need change? Lets not go down that road. Back to the topic under discussion.
Tomorrow comes the real thing. Unmaad. Will it be anything like Saarang, I wonder? Hardly, I should think. But still, oodles of fun. I missed Saarang. Oh well, there'll be lots of Saarangs. Lots of Unmaads. String and Indian Ocean tomorrow I believe. That should be enjoyable.
Paint still on my hand. I love this smell. Reminds me of the old days. I guess the world will be there at IIMB tomorrow then. Look me up. I'll be hanging around the carnival village,.or on the informals stage making a fool of myself. Updates on unmaad to follow soon enough. Maybe even a few pictures. Adios.
My room got a makeover today as well. The cot came back in, and a couple of tables. Sweeping, general cleaning was done. Any visitors to my room are likely to be considerably shocked. Does this have any connection with Unmaad? No, I don't really think so. My life needed change. That's always welcome actually. Who doesn't need change? Lets not go down that road. Back to the topic under discussion.
Tomorrow comes the real thing. Unmaad. Will it be anything like Saarang, I wonder? Hardly, I should think. But still, oodles of fun. I missed Saarang. Oh well, there'll be lots of Saarangs. Lots of Unmaads. String and Indian Ocean tomorrow I believe. That should be enjoyable.
Paint still on my hand. I love this smell. Reminds me of the old days. I guess the world will be there at IIMB tomorrow then. Look me up. I'll be hanging around the carnival village,.or on the informals stage making a fool of myself. Updates on unmaad to follow soon enough. Maybe even a few pictures. Adios.
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
The Halcyon Days
...of my youth. Where have they gone? Ouch, ouch, ouch. And its not just my posterior that hurts. This is what twenty-three feels like, eh? Pretty much the same as before. A lot more aches though. Age, I suppose.
Yes, its been a while since I've updated. Been caught up. In Time. Growing up. Ageing. The last 23 years have gone by in a blur. Been living in one Big Time Warp. In capitals. By the way, we can call that BTW. So, the BTW has changed me. I used to be carefree, a flying falcon. No qualms. No worries. Hopes and Dreams. Fantasies and Fulfillment.
Am a grounded falcon now. Lots of worries. Responsibility. Unfulfilled Dreams. New Dreams. New Hopes. Not so many expectations of life. This isn't me. Where did I change? When did I grow up? I need to fly again.
I was talking to a friend today, and it got me thinking. I used to paint. To sketch. To let my emotions flow out in colours, shapes and myriad images. Its been more than a year since I really felt like doing that. Is it part of the process? You make new friends, you lose the old. You make new habits, you lose the old. You have new passions, you lose the old. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. I should go out and buy some paints, pencils. Sketch some things.
Actually, its been a wonderful time growing up. I've had some amazingly great times in this BTW of mine. Home. Hyderabad. The Colony. Digging up the ground looking for buried kingdoms as a kid. Anonymous spaceship flights. Secret passageways to her house. Diwalis. Holis. Christmases. Growing up a little. IIT. My first time away from home. Hostel life, a girl. Midnight walks. Backdrop work. A lot of fun. Santa. A lot of pain. An extra year. Re-modeling my life. CAT. IIM. Another hostel, another girl. A birthday, and here I am. Its been a fast, whirlwind ride. A BTW.
Ah well, twenty-three. The world is at my feet, the road ahead is murky but presumably well-laid. I'll have gold showered upon me, and scantily-clad females feeding me grapes. I'll be a flying falcon once more. That's a birthday resolution for you. Maybe I should buy some paints. And at least, I still have my sense of humour.
Yes, its been a while since I've updated. Been caught up. In Time. Growing up. Ageing. The last 23 years have gone by in a blur. Been living in one Big Time Warp. In capitals. By the way, we can call that BTW. So, the BTW has changed me. I used to be carefree, a flying falcon. No qualms. No worries. Hopes and Dreams. Fantasies and Fulfillment.
Am a grounded falcon now. Lots of worries. Responsibility. Unfulfilled Dreams. New Dreams. New Hopes. Not so many expectations of life. This isn't me. Where did I change? When did I grow up? I need to fly again.
I was talking to a friend today, and it got me thinking. I used to paint. To sketch. To let my emotions flow out in colours, shapes and myriad images. Its been more than a year since I really felt like doing that. Is it part of the process? You make new friends, you lose the old. You make new habits, you lose the old. You have new passions, you lose the old. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. I should go out and buy some paints, pencils. Sketch some things.
Actually, its been a wonderful time growing up. I've had some amazingly great times in this BTW of mine. Home. Hyderabad. The Colony. Digging up the ground looking for buried kingdoms as a kid. Anonymous spaceship flights. Secret passageways to her house. Diwalis. Holis. Christmases. Growing up a little. IIT. My first time away from home. Hostel life, a girl. Midnight walks. Backdrop work. A lot of fun. Santa. A lot of pain. An extra year. Re-modeling my life. CAT. IIM. Another hostel, another girl. A birthday, and here I am. Its been a fast, whirlwind ride. A BTW.
Ah well, twenty-three. The world is at my feet, the road ahead is murky but presumably well-laid. I'll have gold showered upon me, and scantily-clad females feeding me grapes. I'll be a flying falcon once more. That's a birthday resolution for you. Maybe I should buy some paints. And at least, I still have my sense of humour.
Sunday, January 2, 2005
The End
of Term Two. Finally. Its been a bit heady, filled with fumes from the intoxicating seas of Santraginus V, in the words of Douglas Adams.
A detailed analysis of the term? Let me see. It started pretty mildly, actually. A few company ppts, here and there. Resume mentors. Resumes. Classes, of course. A few painful courses, a few enjoyable. Life, in short, was rosy. Was this the dreaded term two that seniors talked about in hushed tones?
Suddenly, all hell broke loose. We were attending classes all morning, ppts all evening, and working on our resumes all night. The profs didn't leave us alone, of course. No, we had cases to prepare, surprise quizzes to mug for, the whole deal. Oh, and did I mention Vista? The MaSh Testament, of course was a tribute to creativity. And El Dorado, the treasure hunt, drummed up much enthu and really kickstarted the events at Vista. Finally, BestSellers. My baby. Probably the finest piece of work I've been involved with. It's almost Art. Of course, working on all this didn't really leave too much room for sleep. Quiz One came and went. So did Vista.
And suddenly, the companies were here. Recruiting. Lots of people. Not me, though. Day Zero came and went. Didn't get a sniff in. Day One. Hah. I was getting a little desperate here. Day Two. Finally, I strike gold. Suddenly, everyone is interested in me??!! After much deliberation, I've settled on Castrol. Summers is done with. Record placements and all that. Yay.
We'd finally settle down and have some calm now, right? Wrong. On come the courses. Projects in everything from MPPO to Marketing to Corporate Finance. Other pressures as well. Went to Chennai, came back, had a historic conversation. Moped around for the rest of the term.
But it's over. It was over the same nanosecond I gave my QM-II end-term answer sheet to one of the great GR's many minions who were hovering around. A first smile, a first sigh of relief in days.
And I'm off to Chennai. By the morning train. Chennai promises much rest and relaxation. It better keep that promise. Till next time. Adios.
A detailed analysis of the term? Let me see. It started pretty mildly, actually. A few company ppts, here and there. Resume mentors. Resumes. Classes, of course. A few painful courses, a few enjoyable. Life, in short, was rosy. Was this the dreaded term two that seniors talked about in hushed tones?
Suddenly, all hell broke loose. We were attending classes all morning, ppts all evening, and working on our resumes all night. The profs didn't leave us alone, of course. No, we had cases to prepare, surprise quizzes to mug for, the whole deal. Oh, and did I mention Vista? The MaSh Testament, of course was a tribute to creativity. And El Dorado, the treasure hunt, drummed up much enthu and really kickstarted the events at Vista. Finally, BestSellers. My baby. Probably the finest piece of work I've been involved with. It's almost Art. Of course, working on all this didn't really leave too much room for sleep. Quiz One came and went. So did Vista.
And suddenly, the companies were here. Recruiting. Lots of people. Not me, though. Day Zero came and went. Didn't get a sniff in. Day One. Hah. I was getting a little desperate here. Day Two. Finally, I strike gold. Suddenly, everyone is interested in me??!! After much deliberation, I've settled on Castrol. Summers is done with. Record placements and all that. Yay.
We'd finally settle down and have some calm now, right? Wrong. On come the courses. Projects in everything from MPPO to Marketing to Corporate Finance. Other pressures as well. Went to Chennai, came back, had a historic conversation. Moped around for the rest of the term.
But it's over. It was over the same nanosecond I gave my QM-II end-term answer sheet to one of the great GR's many minions who were hovering around. A first smile, a first sigh of relief in days.
And I'm off to Chennai. By the morning train. Chennai promises much rest and relaxation. It better keep that promise. Till next time. Adios.
Saturday, January 1, 2005
The Explanation
I am the Walrus.
The Beatles, you know. They rocked. Here we go.
I am he as you are he as you are me
and we are all together
See how they run like pigs from a gun
see how they fly
I'm crying
Sitting on a cornflake
Waiting for the van to come
Corporation T-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday
Man you've been a naughty boy
you let your face grow long
I am the eggman They are the eggmen
I am the walrus
Goo goo g' joob
Mr. city p'liceman sitting pretty little p'licemen in a row
See how they fly like Lucy in the sky
See how they run
I'm crying
I'm crying, I'm crying
Yellow matter custard
Dripping from a dead dog's eye
Crabalocker fishwife
Pornographic priestess
Boy, you've been a naughty girl
you let your knickers down
I am the eggman They are the eggmen
I am the walrus
Goo goo g' joob
Sitting in an English garden
waiting for the sun
If the sun don't come you get a tan
from standing in the English rain
I am the eggman They are the eggmen
I am the walrus
Goo goo g' joob
Expert, texpert choking smokers
don't you think the joker laughs at you
See how they smile like pigs in a sty
See how they snide
I'm crying
Semolina pilchard climbing up the Eiffel tower
Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna
Man, you should have seen them kicking
Edgar Allan Poe
I am the eggman
They are the eggmen
I am the walrus
Goo goo g' joob
Goo goo g' joob
Goo goo g' goo
goo goo g' joob goo
----------
and that's the reason. Any further questions can be directed to a Mr. McCartney in England.
The Beatles, you know. They rocked. Here we go.
I am he as you are he as you are me
and we are all together
See how they run like pigs from a gun
see how they fly
I'm crying
Sitting on a cornflake
Waiting for the van to come
Corporation T-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday
Man you've been a naughty boy
you let your face grow long
I am the eggman They are the eggmen
I am the walrus
Goo goo g' joob
Mr. city p'liceman sitting pretty little p'licemen in a row
See how they fly like Lucy in the sky
See how they run
I'm crying
I'm crying, I'm crying
Yellow matter custard
Dripping from a dead dog's eye
Crabalocker fishwife
Pornographic priestess
Boy, you've been a naughty girl
you let your knickers down
I am the eggman They are the eggmen
I am the walrus
Goo goo g' joob
Sitting in an English garden
waiting for the sun
If the sun don't come you get a tan
from standing in the English rain
I am the eggman They are the eggmen
I am the walrus
Goo goo g' joob
Expert, texpert choking smokers
don't you think the joker laughs at you
See how they smile like pigs in a sty
See how they snide
I'm crying
Semolina pilchard climbing up the Eiffel tower
Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna
Man, you should have seen them kicking
Edgar Allan Poe
I am the eggman
They are the eggmen
I am the walrus
Goo goo g' joob
Goo goo g' joob
Goo goo g' goo
goo goo g' joob goo
----------
and that's the reason. Any further questions can be directed to a Mr. McCartney in England.
The Beginning
Midnight. January 1 2005. A new beginning. A fresh start. Right back at Alpha.
The world's at a party. Here I am in my room, looking at Kotler, and thinking about things that are not quite Kotler.
What a funny year its been. Ups and downs. Downs and Ups. Full of opposites. Birth, Death. Joy, Sorrow. Alpha and Omega. I'm rambling. As usual. Blogging is fun!
It started at the doors of a chap who couldn't declare me insane. Thankfully. Cos I'm not insane, really. At least, I don't think I am. Anyways, that's all water under the bridge. It was all on the cover of Newsweek, as one Paul Simon would say.
Oh yes, some time in the year i became a full-fledged certified Aerospace Engineer. That was a fun five years. Also had a bunch of interviews, got through to the IIMs, came to Bangalore, started the whole journey again. And I thought it was over. The same rat race, the same relative grading, the same fleeting faces, with their fleeting smiles.
Raced through the first term, enjoyed it, went home. Made friends, broke up, fell in love. Came back for term two, and sank. Like a stone. Strong decisions were taken this term. Strong emotions welled up. I'm not made for finance. I work when I can. If I can. Vista. Summers. Castrol. Sleep. Love. Hunger. Anger. Frustration. Rejection. Dejection. Elation. Evasion.
Ah yes, marketing. I think that's the way to go. Sherlock Holmes philosophy. When you have eliminated all possibilities, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true. Projects. Freeriders. Eating Out. L squares. Old friends. New. Old flames. New. And then there are those other problems that can't really be talked about.
But overall, a good year. Good things have also happened. No more grinch-like santas. A lot of people who seem to care. A lot of things to care about. A lot of things to look forward to.
And then my mind wanders back. Meandering to the one topic I want to avoid. The end-terms. About stuff like differentiation and positioning. About target markets and personal selling. About Jack Trout and Philip Kotler. And things not quite Kotler. This is going around in circles. So here I am going insane. Just like last year. Right back at Alpha. I'll quit while I'm ahead.
Oh and, Happy New Year World.
The world's at a party. Here I am in my room, looking at Kotler, and thinking about things that are not quite Kotler.
What a funny year its been. Ups and downs. Downs and Ups. Full of opposites. Birth, Death. Joy, Sorrow. Alpha and Omega. I'm rambling. As usual. Blogging is fun!
It started at the doors of a chap who couldn't declare me insane. Thankfully. Cos I'm not insane, really. At least, I don't think I am. Anyways, that's all water under the bridge. It was all on the cover of Newsweek, as one Paul Simon would say.
Oh yes, some time in the year i became a full-fledged certified Aerospace Engineer. That was a fun five years. Also had a bunch of interviews, got through to the IIMs, came to Bangalore, started the whole journey again. And I thought it was over. The same rat race, the same relative grading, the same fleeting faces, with their fleeting smiles.
Raced through the first term, enjoyed it, went home. Made friends, broke up, fell in love. Came back for term two, and sank. Like a stone. Strong decisions were taken this term. Strong emotions welled up. I'm not made for finance. I work when I can. If I can. Vista. Summers. Castrol. Sleep. Love. Hunger. Anger. Frustration. Rejection. Dejection. Elation. Evasion.
Ah yes, marketing. I think that's the way to go. Sherlock Holmes philosophy. When you have eliminated all possibilities, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true. Projects. Freeriders. Eating Out. L squares. Old friends. New. Old flames. New. And then there are those other problems that can't really be talked about.
But overall, a good year. Good things have also happened. No more grinch-like santas. A lot of people who seem to care. A lot of things to care about. A lot of things to look forward to.
And then my mind wanders back. Meandering to the one topic I want to avoid. The end-terms. About stuff like differentiation and positioning. About target markets and personal selling. About Jack Trout and Philip Kotler. And things not quite Kotler. This is going around in circles. So here I am going insane. Just like last year. Right back at Alpha. I'll quit while I'm ahead.
Oh and, Happy New Year World.
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