Random Threads

The Interlude

2007-06-09T04:53:00.000-07:00

It's been nearly a month since I last posted, and there has been a lot of water flowing under the bridge since then. My aunt and uncle and cousins came over to visit, and I shall post about the zoo. Then I went to Perhentian and dived and shall post about that as well.

Today I added to my still nascent collection of books. The Castle. By Franz Kafka. One post about the novel as well, I hope to have all three of his novels soon.

I'm thinking about writing for the joy of it, not to publish, but as an artist wields the brush, as a sculptor his chisel and as a rocket scientist his partial differential equation.
To create a reservoir, not just of my memories as this blog is, but of my feelings and emotions as I look around this world. Maybe someone will read them some day.

Until later. Au revoir.

The First War of Independence

2007-05-11T05:27:00.000-07:00

I've been reading a lot of news articles recently on the celebrations for the 150th year of Indian Independence. You know, the 1857 "uprising" where India took up arms against the colonial British yoke. It beats me how such a normal, decent matter can end in controversy. But that's India, isn't it?

Controversy 1: Apparently a lot of the Sikh parties are being extremely vocal about the terminology "The First War of Independence". They feel, perhaps rightly, that the many Anglo-Sikh Wars in the 1840s should be termed the first. But by that logic, why not the Battles in Bengal? Or those of Tipu Sultan?
These arguments can go on for ever. The point most of these parties fail to get is that the War in 1857 was the FIRST time the country fought as a country, for the independence of India, not for a particular princely state.

Controversy 2: There was some plan to bring back the remains of Bahadur Shah Zafar to India. The RSS opposes this (surprise!) on the grounds of Muslim King, what the ,...! Which is the oddest most irritating thing about it. This man, by all accounts, was not a great king. His rule barely extended to the Red Fort. He was one of the great Sufi poets. And in the best tradition of Indian kings, he viewed his "praja" as one - irrespective of religion. He was also the last Emperor of India, unless you count Queen Victoria and King George.
The point is, it was under this king that almost all of India united, irrespective of religion and caste and royal province to overthrow the imperalists. This man was the first nationalist, and if his remains come back to India, it might well be a place of worship. A monument to the last Emperor. A place where both Hindus and Muslims would go to pay their respects. One monument that may at last bring equality out of division.
Perhaps thats why the RSS opposes it.

The Song

2007-05-09T05:09:00.000-07:00

This one's for D. A song she adores. A singer I admire. A smile millions of girls died for.

The VDNA

2007-05-08T07:46:00.000-07:00

Everyone seems to be getting one done on their blogs you know. The salient features of my DNA, if you are at all interested.

The Mood: Easy Rider. That means I am drawn to the drama of a big spectacle, I love the unpredictability of nature. I like to think differently, always from another perspective, and I love life rugged. I have a good sense of humour, my music is about memories, I am fun, easy going and my tongue is always firmly in my cheek.

The Fun: Escape Artist. Am always the first to take the leap, and I try not to have any regrets. I like to indulge my passions for kicks and am probably happy spending my time alone. My drive and curiosity take me all over the world!

The Habits: Back to Basics. I never have enough rest - too busy, too exhausted or a tad lazy? ;)~!Snooze is my best friend, and style is not the top of my list.

The Love: Love Bug. I'm a bit of a softie. Huh? What? Unconditional and loyal love, freedom equals energy and activity, exploring my boundaries and pushing the limits.

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

The Books

2007-05-05T21:16:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wondered how the books that you read have such a marked impact on your life, and your personality? It was something that I was thinking about the other day, and it seems to have worked in my life, at any rate. Let me try and explain what I'm talking about.

I started reading (apart from the obvious ABC books) with Noddy. Now the thing about Noddy, if you have ever read these books, is that he is almost never ever sad. If anything depresses him, he is immediately counseled by Big-Ears and he is back to his car and his songs and his parp-parp. Noddy taught me that things always work out, and never to lose heart. One of the very first lessons I learnt, that has stayed with me through life.

Then I moved on, to the great Enid Blyton mysteries. The Secret Sevens, the Famous Fives, and that series with R-titles. You know, Rubadub Mystery, Ragamuffin Mystery and so on. These books opened my eyes with curiosity. I began to look for mysteries in every tiny aspect of life, and became the curious geek I am today. I actually graduated pretty fast to Hardy Boys after that, which deepened my mystery mania, which was also fuelled by Agatha Christie and Sherlock Holmes.

And then it was time for Sidney Sheldon, Grisham, Forsyth and Harold Robbins. Taught me all the adult things about life. Not just sex. Its more about how the world is not such a great place after all. There are things that go on that are well, let's say not ideal. And its not the perfect black and white world of the Hardy Boys either. These books taught me that the line between right and wrong is often blurred, something that is a tough lesson to learn while growing up.

In IIT, I was exposed to Lord of the Rings and the Hitch hiker's guide to the galaxy. One taught me about honour and goodness and adventure - mottos that have guided my professional, academic life - and the other taught me about randomness - a motto that has guided my fun times. I think I have the most fun when I am the most random. I wonder if that's true for everyone.

I then got serious about Ayn Rands and Franz Kafkas. Dark books that taught me about sinister dark corners of life. About how things can go wrong all the time, even if you do everything good and right.

And who can underestimate the Wodehouse books that taught me about humour, and Indian fiction that influenced my styles of writing and reading? And what of the mythological Ramayana and Mahabharata, that influenced the conservative person that people tell me I am? Or Alice in Wonderland, or the Chronicles of Narnia - two books that have made me more imaginative than I ever thought I could be? Or of Oliver Twist, or of The Importance of Being Earnest, or all of Shakespeare - that allowed me to view ages and times that I could not live through?

There are so many books that have shaped me, I can only thank the authors of these marvellous masterpieces. They will always be revered.

Of Love and Relationships

2007-05-02T07:57:00.000-07:00

I'm a romantic at heart.
Not M&B stuff though. Romance means adventure. Sea Spray, Unexplored lands, hidden treasure and dragons to slay. That's true romance. Damsels in distress are just the side dishes, if you will. Perks of the job, and all that.
Having said that however , there is a place in this large heart of mine for the softer emotion. I have been in love. I am in love as of this moment. But I don't believe in love at first sight. Not any more at least.
I believe in attraction. At first sight, definitely. You can be physically attracted to a person, and that makes you see stars and makes you feel like a little kid who first sees a cotton candy cart. But that isn't really love. Love is about getting to know someone so well that you are able to read her every emotion, her every whim. You needn't cater to these whims, but anticipating them helps.
As a consequence of no love at first sight, there are no soulmates. Since love is something that develops, excruciatingly, over time, it stands to reason that every relationship (or those based in love) should be an effort, a whole phantasm of hard work, planning and mind reading.
Now this is eye-opening. Most people expect relationships to go well, without realising that you need to work hard at it. Some days you need to work really hard. And sometimes you fight and scream and say nasty things. But you work at it, and you work at it. And finally like a sculpture emerging from a block of granite, you realise that you actually are soulmates.

Its hard back breaking work to keep your relationship healthy, but if effort doesn't go into it, it stagnates. And insead of Venus di Milo, you end up with a misshapen rock with two stumps. That's not fun. And now I'm sounding like one of those Agony Aunts you see on Page 14 of the newspaper, who gets letters from people with names like Desperate Diva or Harried Housewife.
I'd better sign off before Amorous Amy gets ideas and starts emailing me!

The Cricket

2007-04-30T07:26:00.000-07:00

And finally, it's all over. Awesome Australia win again. It's getting to be impossible to beat them. I know, I know .. New Zealand swamped them 3-zip before the World Cup, and even England (though who am I to comment, at least they got to the super 8s) beat Australia a couple of times before that. And McGrath is gone. So is Warne. But does that make them beatable? I can't think of any team capable of even coming close.
Cricket is a money sport, a sport for professionals who aim to make as much moolah as they can get. Gentleman's game, sure. But gentlemen bring home the bacon, and don't you forget it. And is that really an explanation for the other team's pathetic displays? (Barring Sri Lanka, I thought they were marvellous throughout - and its a shame the final ended the way it did). What I'm trying to say is, I'm sure the Aussies are as interested in cash as the other teams and the ICC are. It's just that they are more professional I guess. Whatever that means.
Its been a disillusioning past few years for me - and I used to be such an avid fan of the sport. I think Olonga and Flower demonstrated spirit perfectly in 2003, and look how they paid for it. Sri Lanka demonstrated that spirit this time around, the game is supposed to be fun, for God's sakes!

Otherwise, its just not cricket.

The Tests

2007-04-30T06:38:00.000-07:00

I was just goofing around looking through people's blogs, and I saw that they had taken these random personality tests that defined them as these famous leaders and classic movies. Now clearly, this was intriguing. My first thoughts: I'd probably be someone like Shah Jahan, and Casablanca - you know, romantic Don Juan that I am. I surprised myself.

What Famous Leader Are You?

JFK? I mean, JFK? I like power because it increases my sexual options! Hey, I actually like that. I don't shy away from risky behaviour. Probably go sky diving because it does a lot for my mojo. And also, wasn't he shot by some crazy madman? Thrill seeker for sure!

And what classic movie would I be based on the above? Thrill seeking, risk taking. Yep, you guessed it. Raiders of the lost ark. Indiana Jones, move over. Your nemesis is here. He lives for adventure, fortune-hunting and danger. In all probability, the danger increases his sexual options. Girls, beware. Here I come.

What Classic Movie Are You?

The Yellow Brick Road

2007-04-29T10:08:00.000-07:00

Yes, its been quite a while. More than a year. And as time has flowed on, so have I, flowering into professional life, though not quite a bloom yet.

Its been a tough road to get here, much like Dorothy's. Wicked Witches, attendances, magic slippers, hurricanes, placements, love, new friends, new cities, new countries, magical experiences.
Its been fun, on the whole.

I love my life. Its only fair that I put down these memories for a rainy day. The road to Oz stretches ahead of me, pointing the way to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I think I am mixing metaphors here, a cardinal sin they tell me.
Anyways, expect more in the coming days. Till then, Adios.

The Party

2005-05-23T02:36:00.000-07:00

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.

The Alumni

2005-05-18T23:17:00.000-07:00

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 !

The Oily Summer

2005-05-18T07:29:00.000-07:00

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.

The Girl

2005-05-16T07:30:00.000-07:00

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.

The Second Coming

2005-02-02T05:47:00.000-08:00

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? ----------------------------------------------

So I need to change. Back to when I was enjoying myself. Get rid of the turbulence. The anarchy. Welcome my Second Coming. And as a start, I changed the layout of my room. This page has been overhauled. Completely. I am gonna kick life's ass once more. Fingers crossed, that is.

The Festival

2005-02-01T04:34:00.000-08:00

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.

The Run-up

2005-01-27T09:42:00.000-08:00

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.

The Halcyon Days

2005-01-25T06:58:00.000-08:00

...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.

The End

2005-01-02T09:45:00.000-08:00

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.

The Explanation

2005-01-01T12:52:00.000-08:00

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

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and that's the reason. Any further questions can be directed to a Mr. McCartney in England.

The Beginning

2005-01-01T01:00:00.000-08:00

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.

Alpha and Omega

2004-06-15T14:09:00.000-07:00

Here we are then. Life Anew. My first attempt at blogging reached a sad standstill during my preparation for CAT and whatnot, and a new beginning always makes things seem better. Ask any major philosopher. Or a madman. Anyway, the hiatus obviously paid off - I'm on my way to IIMB. Yippee. Hopefully, this will continue. Okay, so maybe arbit folks getting gmail offers has influenced me a tiny little bit.

Who am I, then? And what is this? The story of an ordinary chap, who has (finally!!!) graduated, but who loves his life. His universe. Everything. From birth to death. Alpha to Omega. Jayanthi to Nirvana. Amen.

But then, this is also a mission. I won't say I'm inspired by AM's musings on his life at IIML - an inspiration is the last thing that comes to mind - and this is certainly meant to be more than a diary of daily events at IIM. However, it may (or more likely may not) provide insightful peeks into my life there (and therefore, to any gossip columnist who may want to start a forest fire)... and dutiful sudents mugging for CAT filled with illusions about India's best B-school may have fun reading this. Ah well, we can only hope.

Back to the beginning then. Omega to Alpha. My universe? Revolves around me. Myself. Ah, the universe of an egoistical guy. Being selfish pays off. Ask Ayn Rand. Or the panelists at my B interview. The universe also revolves around buttered popcorn, Calvin and Hobbes, landscapes (John Constable eh? eh?), books, books, books, Metallica, Elvis, Simon and Garfunkel, you name it. It doesn't include Bollwood films and/or music though. Ugh.

Am i rambling? Who really cares? Isn't this supposed to be an online diary of sorts? And diaries are private. Things that make sense to me and no one else protect my privacy. That's optimism. Guiding principle of my life. And life is good. Back at alpha. I'll quit while I'm ahead.
Bangalore beckons. Ahh.

New Years Eve Ramblings

2003-12-31T10:37:00.000-08:00

Its official. The third year of the new millennium peters out to its destined end. As I look back on they year, it seems to me that (as usual), it had its good and bad times, but the bad seem to outweigh the good. No, let me rephrase that. The global seem to outweigh the local. Lots of epoch-making events have taken place. A year not to be easily forgotten. Certainly not by me. After all, I was supposed to graduate. Screw all attendance rules. Also, I lost a girl.

But, that’s a miniscule event compared to what happened elsewhere. I lost a year and a friend, Iraq lost a leader and had a war thrust on them, fifty thousand Iranians lost their lives in an earthquake that flattened a historic city. Dara Singh lost his case, and was sentenced to death, the Congress lost three major states in the by-elections. The United Nations seems to have lost its power over the nations, and the US economy is crashing. Tons of students who wrote CAT had their exam cancelled.

What happened to the hopes we had around the same time last year? It was a good time to hope. The US had defeated the Taliban, Afghanistan was free. The War against terror was calming down. The only jarring note was Osama still hadn’t been apprehended. Twelve months later, we’re still waiting for his capture. And the castles we built? Well, the tide turned. The waters rose, and as Parikrama would say, all the sandcastles have drowned.

But, there are some things that turned out quite well. India suddenly finds itself with some global status. The markets are soaring, the economy is booming, and there is peace on the border with Pakistan. Sikkim has been recognized by China. And, I started blogging. More castles will be built. The tide will turn again. And life will go on. As it always has.

January 1 is a time to make new resolutions, and the rest of the year, most of us do our utmost to break them. It’s the same with nations, countries, communities the world over. Castles will be built, castles will drown, they will be rebuilt. There is a lesson here for those who care to see it. It symbolizes the eternal struggle of humanity to rebuild itself, to reform; and the even greater struggle to destroy itself.

All that is said and done. It matters very little. What does matter, however, is that tradition is too strong to destroy. It’s the New Year, and its time to party. So break out the champagne. Happy New Year, all. Keep those castles intact.

Memories of a long lost universe

2003-12-04T10:36:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, in a galaxy not so far away, there was a small, insignificant little blue-green planet that orbited an insignificant star. On a fairly insignificant day in January, a boy child was born to an insignificant middle class family in an insignificant third world country in a year in which nothing significant happened. That boy was me.

So, my childhood. Kiddie Days. Well, I remember no cable TV. All I ever got to watch was Oshin and Pingu the Penguin on Doordarshan. Also, Ramayana and Mahabharata. On weekends. So, I did a heck of a lot of reading. Started with Noddy, of course. My cousins watch it on Cartoon Network. That's a shame. Soon graduated past the Enid Blyton mysteries to my first Hardy Boys when I was eight. Definitely too young. Scared the wits out of me. Stuck to Enid Blytons for a few more years then. Eventually, I was sneaking out the Sidney Sheldon thrillers from my mom's room. Tried an MB. Atrocious. How do gals read that crap? Then, I read Vladimir Narbokov's Lolita. Doff your hat to that book. A masterpiece of writing. An absolute gem. Changed my whole outlook on the fairer sex. Girls were no longer venomous things to be looked upon only with suspicion. They were amazingly well-rounded, soft, curvy, luscious creations of God. Sugar and spice and all that's nice. I never really liked that rhyme actually. Too sexist. Anyway, that's when IIT happened.

And, well, my reading habits changed. It was time to discard the cheap thrillers for the dark, deep novels. Kafka. Rushdie. Ayn Rand. And a girl as well. That's water under the bridge now though. Girls are poison once more. But the dark novels remain. I'm a changed person now. The zest, the enthusiasm, the so-called killer instinct is gone. I cry a lot more. I also smile a lot more. But the novels remain. Whatever else has happened, thank heavens the gift of reading has remained. Whatever else will happen, I know I can always drown myself in some novel and be lost to this world. The insignificant blue-green one. Another world beckons. One that encompasses everything from Never-Never land to the mythical land of Narnia. From dragons to hippogriffs to Alice and her Wonderland. Thank God for books.

Amen.

Three. Tres. Troix.

2003-01-03T10:32:00.000-08:00

Back in Chennai. The land of heat, dust and hypocrites. Yes, I am in a foul mood. Who wouldn't be, having had moronic auto-rickshaw drivers for breakfast? But its good to be back. New Year's Eve beckons. So does solitude. This is gonna be the second New Year in a row that I'll spend with myself. Time to think, reflect and plan. Yeah, right. It's a drag.

Maybe I'll just keep listening to Nirvana, and wondering whether India will win the Sydney Test. Maybe I won't. I don't know. I really need company even to do that. The splendid gift of speech is quite a bane at times. We have to keep up the pretence of upholding the art of conversation, even when we don't really know how. Unfortunately, we always want to. That is the sad part.

Why do we have a New Year's Day anyhow? And assuming we've answered that, why is it celebrated? Just another day in the three hundred and sixty five and a quarter that our world takes to orbit the star Sol. No big deal, you'd think. And yet, every culture across the globe celebrates New Year on some day. Funny. From what I've seen of Hollywood movies, a New Year's Eve party is about tons of people getting drunk in Times Square, and kissing each other on the stroke of midnight. Again, not much different from the gazillions of parties that go on throughout the globe every night in clubs and discos. Except that people are drunk for no reason then. Does the welcoming of a New Year (note the capitals) give us the license to behave like fools? Or is it just an excuse to release our baser, primal instincts? Yeah, like we need an excuse.

Answer, that, bloggers !!

The Second One

2003-01-02T10:32:00.000-08:00

Ahh… today has been great as well. I met my loony doctor. Unlike Bertie Wooster, I am not insane. Good.

So life is still good. So is the aunt. And the kids. Except for the hair-pulling bits. And also India suffering at the hands of those marauding blokes from Oz. But apart from that, life has been treating me particularly well. I could do worse than a lazy, laidback life filled with buttered popcorn. The good news is I’m sane. So I’m not gonna stab anyone to death. Or so they say.

Ahh, a little pigeon (a dumb one) just reminded me of Mini. She’s partly the reason why I don’t hunt very hard. Problem is, I haven’t seen her. She must be a doll. Anyways, thinking about that will get me down, so I won’t.

Maybe I should start looking at guys. No, that would totally freak people out. I’d be first. That would be gossip for some local news column, wouldn’t it? . No, Mini might massacre me. I think I heard someone scream the word carnage.

That’s that then.

And for those who’d like a little more info about my universe, maybe you got to come to me. Nah, just kidding. Apply in person and all that crap. Actually, my body is a bit sore from all those amusement park rides. Ouch.

Umm… I’m gonna round off now, I shall leave the mallus for my land on the morrow. Chennai beckons. Namma Chennai. (After the fashion of Amchi Mumbai). Thank you. Good night.

The First One

2003-01-01T10:31:00.000-08:00

Well, okay. Here we are. My first blog. Why? Like I said, everyone seems to be doing it, so might as well join the club. A great man once said, “If you can’t lick ‘em, join ‘em”.

Before we start, a warning. Many of these lines are plagiarized from books of eminent authors. Perhaps I’ll be one some day. Fingers crossed.

So, where are we? The story of a chap. A chap who likes his life. Sticks and stones may break his bones, and loony doctors (read psychiatrists) may certify him totally certifiable, but he still likes his life. His universe. Everything. From birth to death. Alpha to Omega. Jayanthi to Nirvana. I’m not making too much sense here.

I’ll begin again. I’m in the land of the mallu, an adorable creation of god, at the abode of my fav’rit aunt (she’s my good and deserving one, as Bertie Wooster would say) , on a medical mission to meet this loony doctor (perhaps a far off distant relative of Sir Roderick Glossop), who’ll presumably diagnose me as being totally off my rocker.

Went to an amusement park today. In Kochi. That’s over two hours away by car. Far. But I had fun. Life is good. My entire universe is. Let’s not start that again.

Where were we? Oh yes, amusement park. Got wet. Soaked. Drenched. I resembled a soggy brown paper substitute for a human being. Did I mention it was a water theme park? Oh yes, u heckler, I CAN swim, and I’ve been swimming for over a decade. I’m a regular fish in water. Don’t do too well on land though. My cousins (two cute gals who’ve never seen life before 1995) had a heck of a lot of fun. Especially while they were pulling my hair. Or giving me a black eye while fighting each other for the last chip (the traditional kind – made from potato, not silicon). So, that’s life. One big amusement park ride. Ups. Downs. Crests. Troughs. You get drenched. Get a black eye. But you enjoy it. Life, ultimately, is good.

Back to the beginning then. Omega to Alpha. My universe? Revolves around me. Myself. Ahh, the universe of an egoistical guy. Being selfish pays off. Ask Ayn Rand. She knows. This universe also centers on buttered popcorn, Calvin and Hobbes, paintings by John Constable, books, books, books, Metallica, Elvis and Simon and Garfunkel. The universe does not include Bollywood films and/or music.

Everything else has to mean grub and girls. I am single and hunting. Not very hard though. I am also lazy. Got to correct that before I get to IIM. Hmm.

Rambled on enough. Didn’t make too much sense, but then a blog is sort of like an online diary. Diaries are private. Things that make sense to me and not to other people protect my privacy. That is optimism. Guiding Principle of my life. Again, life is good. Back at Alpha. I’ll quit while I’m ahead.

I’m not explaining lotusrays.