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.
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