Randomly Speaking

A couple of months ago, while over loaded with work I developed the following scale to measure the progress of tasks at hand.......

1. Zilch
2. Scratch
3. Intermediate
4. Nigh
5. Virtually
6. Eureka

Till then....

It has been such a long time, almost 3 months, that I wrote here.
Am happy that I don't come back to this to write, to keep myself busy.

Will resume writing regularly once there is a sense of fulfillment and completeness.


Till then......

Undying love....

I had been away from home for good one week, traveling to places which are supposed to be home – place of birth, home town, land of my forefathers etc.

I travel to Patna at least once a year, but rarely for whole seven days. Traveling to Patna is rather easy with an overnight express train without any stops along the entire 1004km.

Patna can be a frustrating experience. The sorry state of roads has been worsened with the excessive rain washing away the top black layer. The slow moving traffic and the constant honking can be maddening. However I believe local travel in the city can improve dramatically by two simple changes – a) build roads that last & b) remove the slow moving cycle rickshaws off the main thoroughfares, at least from Bailey Road, Fraser Road, Exhibition Road, Boring Road and Ashok Rajpath and around Gandhi Maidan.

A friend’s father lent me his car for use during the stay in Patna. It was rather very thoughtful of him. With the car I was able to finish the tasks in hand quite comfortably. But driving around in Patna was a test of patience. I was jostling for space with cycle rickshaws and pedestrians, even in the central business district of the city. When did I knock off both the front indicators, I just don’t know.

Patna seemed to have an optimistic buzz which I hadn’t seen in the last few years. The city is gripped with a whole lot of activity with a brand new IIT at last, a new national law university, and a much hyped business school and a couple of new engineering colleges. Patna had not seen such an effort at institutional building for a very long time. Property prices have gone up, the city has various flyovers under construction, and people seem to be generally making more money. Things at last are changing for the better.

Being away from home for such a long time, brought about certain new realizations - A simple call asking ‘what’s happening’ twice - thrice a day meant quite a lot to my mother; I was missing someone much more than I thought I should have; I could talk like an equal and sometimes more than that amongst my relatives; & most importantly that I still love Patna.

Asking her out…..

This is about my close friend; - dude my chance to publicly laugh at you. He is rather a sweet friend, naive to tell me about how he made an ass of himself during this evening out with this pretty girl he knows.

Dude, I promise not to give away your name.


Let me tell you all, what happened.

There is this sweet girl he has got to know, let us call her Akanksha, over the last couple of months. He tells me, Akanksha is beautiful (this I will vouch for, he had had me introduced) and has been rather nice to him. He tells me, he is fond of her and when I ask him if there is more to it, he dismisses it by saying 'more' doesn’t seem logical and plus it can’t be one sided. A proud gentleman that he is.

Okay, let’s forget the girl and how nice this friend is (but don’t forget the equation that they share). Let me tell you about his weekend.

He asked Akanksha out, for a play. She agreed, but actually went out after postponing it for 2 weekends. So obviously my friend was actually looking forward to it this time when they froze the time etc.

On the D-day a few minutes before the appointed hour our friend was at Akanksha’s building. Just as he was trying to call to ask her to step out, Akanksha called to complain that he had made her wait. (Guess Akanksha was looking forward to this outing too).

Nothing after that went right for my friend.

They couldn’t find the venue, he was supposed to know his way around.

Akanksha didn’t quite like the play, for that matter our friend didn’t like it too. Akanksha wanted to step out mid way, fortunately he managed to make her stay put.

Soon it was time for dinner. Our friend thought, he had it all worked out but fate had decided to make an ass of this normally intelligent friend of mine.

So they drove to Connaught Place. Dinner, it was decided would be at his clubby joint called DV8.

Now listen carefully…….DV8, had closed some months ago, and Akanksha of course did not like the place that had opened in its stead.

So the next port of call it was decided was going to be Agni at the Park. Cover charges of 2k didn’t quite make sense for a dinner that would last not more than 45 minutes given Akanksha’s deadline to reach home.

When you can’t take a girl to a decent place and you her make her walk when she is so delicately dressed, my friend you don’t quite deserve to ask a girl out.

Let me not be harsh, and tell you what happened next.

Walking back, still deciding where dinner could be, Akanksha noticed Kwality. The famous Kwality of the 70s-80s now frequented only by fat Punjabi aunties and over the hill Uncle-jis.

So dinner at Kwality, it was.

Imagine, the upper end boarding school upbringing, the sophistication and the gentleman in my friend were all in vain. He couldn’t find a proper restaurant for dinner, when he was out with this girl for the first time.

When I heard this first I could not help guffawing, but then my advice to my friend was – Dude, if you are clueless, leave it to her. She will any way enjoy being the boss.

Guys join me in saying a little prayer, that may Akanksha give my friend another chance to go out with her.

He really wants to go out with her again.

Becoming Musical

This is not about Rock Hudson, but only about music.

At an interview I was once asked, “Do you like music?”

“Sir, movies and music, I do not understand.”

“What barbaric tastes you have, you do not like movies or music but are interested in politics.” Earlier in the conversation, I had proudly told the interview panel that I find politics very exciting.

Barbaric, it is, not to be able to appreciate music. You are not a gentleman if you do not enjoy music, ideally you should be able to play a musical instrument.

I can bet on it that there is some genetic musical switch in ones DNA construct. You are lucky if you were born with the switch ‘on’ for I have made numerous attempts to get that going.

Interestingly I was part of the school choir till may be grade IV or V, but then as I grew up I probably stayed away from music for in a boarding school ( that too all boys) only sissies participated in music.

Efforts at appreciating the santoor, tabla or the sitar at the SPIC MACAY programs at school didn’t yield much. Probably the only achievement was some ability to discern when a completely extraordinary note was being played.

School obviously had its own brand of music. We Will Rock You, Another Brick in Wall and the likes topped the popularity charts, wouldn’t be surprised if they still do. Songs like Ice Ice Baby, Queen’s I Want To Break Free or Roxette’s The Look were also very popular.

How can I forget the ever popular, without copyrights, compilation called ‘Sexology’. With its racy title it was a must have for every individual at school. Sexology dished out songs, tamer than its name, like Lets Talk About Sex etc.

I have come a long way since then. In the last 6 months I have seen music really grow on me.

Bob Dylan was the trigger, Living Next Door To Alice reminded me of yester years. Don McLean’s American Pie and Vincent got me hooked to soft rock. And John Denver is another of the favorites.

And oft heart broken Micheal Learns to Rock’s I Wanna Dance tugs at my heart.

One of the coolest songs I have ever heard is Jesus He Knows Me by Genesis.

However I still get a feeling of incompleteness for I still can’t hum any of these songs. The day I can, hum even one song, I will be convinced that the musical switch has at last been activated.

If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it.

Late Evenings at Work

I have many a times sat late at work.

While I was in Bombay, it was so many times to merely avoid the traffic on the way back home. The latest I have done is being in office upto almost 0130 hours, trying to give the final okay to a film created for the annual conference.

Fortunately my previous supervisor couldn't work late without a drink, so if something had to be urgently discussed it was at a pub or a restaurant. And not without his reiterating that he would have not hired me if he knew I was a teetotaller.

Working at odd hours and odd days, I believe normally don't yield much. One such meeting was at the restaurant right outside the Bombay airport. The boss was coming back from Delhi on a Saturday after an extremely successful meeting with a key business partner on the previous day. It was time to get into execution immediately, hence the meeting at the airport. (Fortunately we weren't meeting at the office in downtown Bombay, which would have been more than an hours drive from my home in the suburbs.)

Another such meeting, this time on a non working day in the middle of the week was at the Cricket Club of India in south Bombay. We, rather the boss, decided that the best place to discuss the matter at hand was by the poolside at CCI. With a beer in his hand we 'analyzed' women in pool besides the work at hand. The boss did much of the analyzing, after all I was facing him with my back to the pool. Lunch after the analyses was rather sumptuous at the restaurant at CCI. Don't remember if we achieved much that day.

These late evenings, normally low on productivity, are some times quite fulfilling. You are ready for the important meeting/presentation the next day or have merely covered a great deal of pending work. On such a day you drive back home with a sense of contentment, and generally feeling nice about yourself inspite of the physical and mental tiredness.

The other side of the story are numerous irritants that plague you in these late evening sessions. Especially if you are not enjoying what you are doing, hunger becomes unbearable, numerous people suddenly start remembering you and you are busy promising to call back. And not to forget home, they will obviously start calling every 10 -15 minutes wanting to know how much longer before you leave for home.

Today promised to be another evening like that, when I decided it would be more productive to write this post. The pleasant drive back home did compensate.

Philosopher's Notes I

This is the first of, hopefully, numerous ‘philosopher's’ notes.

My efforts at understanding people, knowing the reasons for their actions and reactions or more ambitiously inferring their value system from observing them has enabled me to put this together.

These notes in no way attempt at being sexist, while they appear to be so on many occasions. This has come about because of this being only my, a guy’s, perspective and also because my understanding of women, inspite of numerous efforts, is limited.


Good looking guys & not so good looking girls

Good looking men end up with not so pretty women. And all beautiful women land themselves not so handsome men.

Look around, and you will agree with this principle, framed empirically over a few months at the canteen of the haloed Delhi School of Economics by yours truly in collaboration with a close friend. Extreme situations and exceptions only prove the rule.




Why are second choice women first to find boyfriends or how come second rate guys are first to find girlfriends?

Guys in a hurry to land themselves a girlfriend, too soon on joining college, end up with second rate girls. In other words girls in haste to acquire a boyfriend, too soon on joining college, land themselves second rate boyfriends.

Second choice women are the first to land themselves boyfriends at a new college or second choice guys are first to acquire a girlfriend.


Guys, for earliest fulfillment of the boast of a girlfriend manage to make too many compromises to land with second choice women. These relationships are rather very sticky – the guy needs to be very mean to take corrective measures. Guys who take their time, hook the best women.



How Neil Bohr’s atomic theory and the theory of friendship are quite similar.

Simply put, Bohr says that electrons revolve around the nucleus in different energy levels. For an electron to move from one energy level to another, a great deal of energy is released/required. Closer the energy level/orbit that the electron moves in, greater is the strength of the bond between the electron and the nucleus, therefore greater energy will be required to break the bond.

Now put yourself as the nucleus and your friends as electrons revolving around you in different energy levels or degrees of closeness or strength of bond, almost like in concentric circles. For friend to move from a outer orbit to a closer or inner orbit energy or likeability is required. This likeability is achieved by greater understanding of each other and testing of the friendship over time. Breaking a bond or to snap a friendship will require an action or incident. This action or incident will be more drastic if the closeness or bond is greater – more energy is required if the electron has a closer bond.

Excessively or Simply

Somebody has been calling me finicky, a first amongst the various adjectives used for me - rude, brash, arrogant, snooty, eccentric etc.

The Merriam Webster says finicky : extremely or excessively particular, exacting, or meticulous in taste or standards


But am I really finicky or just particular? To be finicky I need to be excessively particular.

Talking about food, guess I am quite particular about the food I eat. Too much greens is not really acceptable. My taste buds are yet to be properly attuned to continental or for that matter Oriental food. What that leaves me with, is to choose from Mughlai or home made food and of course mostly non vegetarian.

Clothes, am hardly particular about. With my appalling sense of dressing, and the colour combination challenge I live with there is no way I can be finicky about the way I dress.


What I am particular (finicky if you wish) about is my language. Want to be able to always use the correct language while talking or writing. This idea has come about mainly with the belief that to be able to write well is an art. The play of words - spoken or written - is an art. Wit is derived quite a bit from the command over the language. Shakespeare's play of words make his simple stories classics, Churchill's wit is legendary. Wit is close to intelligence.

It is also this desire to achieve a high degree of command over the language makes me very particular about it. Just as I try to be particular about the title of my blog posts.

I am proud of my small collection of books. I do not lend books to any one I suspect might not use it properly. In that way I am very particular about my books too.

Anything else that I am particular about, you tell me.

So am I excessively particular or plain particular.

The morning after

The morning after, sleeping in my bare minimum I often end up with a mildly stuffy nose, this morning was no different. A heavy head and lazy bones. I didn't want to get out of the bed.

Could I skip work today, but what was I going to do the rest of the day, once I am better. Office is where I am headed.

On these occassions, good company on the way to work can do a great deal. Thank God for these small mercies.

Driving the impressions

I drive a small car, they call it the Suzuki Swift. Diesel, red.

Red car and I seem out of sync, they said. White or grey was more my kind according to them.

I was amazed, when that was the near universal observation of friends. Boring and colourless is what I am supposed to be.

What impressions do I leave, had not thought of it so strongly ever before. Perceptions have often been my undoing.

Extension of that logic, I should be driving in the third lane, often end up tailing auto rickshaws and other slow moving vehicles. On the contrary I have loved driving at top speed, once hitting 150kph on the Nelson Mandela Road.

My driving, has changed quite a bit since I first started driving my new car. The 'Swift' with its smooth engine, amazing pick up has been a pleasure to drive. Wish it came with a prettier bum.

From driving like a maniac, as if the roads were a screen on a video game to now has been quite a change. Have once done office to home in 17-18 minutes during peak evening hours, it was atrociously crazy. Never again, I promised myself.

Am rather pleased to have tempered down. Lane driving, no pushing and shoving and of course no zig - zags these days. What has been the trigger - a friend's accident, or the resolve to drive slower and sensibly when there was someone else in the car too. The second is what I will go with.

I want to participate in some motor rally, where I can drive at crazy speeds. Must try some powerful vehicles too. Never really driven a SUV, must check that out as well.

Another day at work

At 0855 hrs ( 0900 hrs should have been the right time, impatient that I am) I called Roshni.

" Step out, man"

"Sorry"

" I am outside your building, come"

" Was I suppose to go with you? I didn't tell you that."

" Of course you did"

"No I didn't"

"Last evening, while chatting online."

"No I didn't"

"You are damn funny man."

A tamer " But I am not ready as yet"

Long silence.

" Chill I am already on my way to office, I was just kidding." And of course loud guffawing.

I was at office by 0935, for the day long product committee meeting. Various team leaders from centers across the country, meeting to review business, plan for the new month, and promise to run a common business plan across the nation.

It is easy to run your fief when the central office can only pussyfoot.

Why can't we ever take emphatic decisions, guess impotence is the appropriate word. Why does one have to please everyone. Why can't one do what is right. When you are doing the right thing or being a good leader you will rarely manage to please everyone.

Is this about a natural leader???? Is this merely my bravado?

The lunch was crappy, with the vegetarian that I am on Wednesdays.

The last session of the day stretched with the IITian cabin crew asking inane questions. Why does he make a fool of himself. Is it, as they would say at college, 'desperate class participation' or out and out dim wittedness.

Evening saw Roshni trying to be cool, was she trying to be cool or trying to hit back for the morning. I will like to believe the first, let us see what she says when she reads this.

Was famished by the time I reached home.

A friend indeed

My friend in need, a friend indeed................

When things go wrong

as they sometimes will,

when the road you're trudging seems all uphill;

When the funds are low

& the debts are high;

And you want to smile,

but you have to sigh;

When care is pressing you

down a bit...

Rest if you must,

but don't you quit.

Success is failure turned inside out,

the silver tint

of the clouds of doubt,

And you never can tell

how close you are,

It may be near when it seems afar,

So stick to the fight

when you're hardest hit...

It's when things go wrong,

that you must not quit.

Maiden

Let us begin......