Between a rock and a hard place

Do I need medical help ??

2007-07-17T22:14:00.001+05:30

eMail ids for Dummies

2007-06-29T18:01:00.000+05:30

Every now on then, we make a small mistake that goes on to haunt us for the rest of our lives. Now I am not talking about serious mistakes - like hurting someone, or causing some material loss or damaging a relationship etc etc. I am talking about those careless, niggling, silly mistakes that you make without realising, that don't appear to have caused any damage Prima Facie, but just give them some time and they come back to eat you alive inside out.

On July 4, 1996, Sabeer Bhatia launched the legendary email service, HoTMaiL. This completely revolutionized the way people and businesses were to communicate with each other in the coming years. Geographical barriers were shattered, distances vanished overnight. It paved the way for the 'e' revolution and also, as a small insignificant by-product, paved the way for one of the dumbest mistakes I've ever made.

Year 1999. The whole world was buzzing with the 'Y2K' fever. It was a glorious time to be in for a 11th standard boy who had just got a brand new computer and was exposed to the world of internet for the first time. And the boy had been waiting a long time for this. He had worked hard the whole year to get good marks in his 10th standard Board exams so that he could get
the computer. Needless to say, he had spent the last couple of months reading up any computer magazine he could get his hands on to familiarize himself with the mysterious yet fascinating world of computers. The 'Nerd' virus had slowly started spreading in his body. His friends had told him that one of the first things he should do on getting a net connection should be to create an email account on Yahoo!, the most popular email service at that time.

Fast forward a few weeks. The computer and the net connection have finally arrived. The boy goes to yahoo.com and starts creating an email account. He is asked to select an email id.

The boy thinks for a while.

The boy types - bunny@yahoo.com (bunny being his nick name, an unfortunate consequence of being an Indian(hence the concept of nick name) born into a sikh family (hence - bunny!! ) )

The computer replies with message:

"Email id already in use. Select another"

The boy thinks long and hard.

The boy types - 'bunny2k@yahoo.com' (please note the '2k' .. referring to.... guess....guess.... ok.. here it comes.... The Y2K bug!! !!! )

The boy smiles.

The boy says to himself - "Who's the man!!"

The computer replies with message:

"Email id already in use. Select another."

The boy really thinks long this time.

The boy types - 'bunny2k_2002@yahoo.com'

The boy had always been a little ahead of his time.
The boy leans back and smiles.

The computer replies with message:

"Congratulations bunny2k_2002 . You have successfully created a
yahoo account"

What the computer really meant to say was:

"Congratulations dumbass, on selecting 'bunny2k_2002' as your id. Your friends and complete strangers will laugh at you for this for the rest of your life"

Of course, the boy did not see this message. The boy was happy. The boy was now 'IN'. He had an email address to give to girls. He had an identity that was funny and witty.

He was - 'BUNNY2K_2002' !!! All Hail !!

Now, I can act smart and say that this boy was a very good childhood friend of mine who now resides in a mental institute with similar crazy fools, but the sad truth is that this boy was indeed me and I now work in a software firm with other IT professionals!
Sigh... the places where life takes us.

The email id still prevails.
It doesn't seem so witty now that the boy is 24 years old.
It's still the butt of jokes among friends and complete strangers.
Not so popular with girls either.
bunny2k_2002 - not so funny anymore. Damn, it even rhymes! Sob sob.

Fast forward about 5 years. I was in final year of college. I was working as in intern in a IT firm. I decided that I couldn't possibly give 'bunny2k_2002@yahoo.com' to others as my email id. Oh the shame! The humiliation!
So I decided to create another 'respectable' and 'formal' email id.

Now, there are 2 kinds of people in this world. The kind who learn from their mistakes and move on in life and then there's the kind who like to practice making the same mistake again and again and again till they become masters of creating bad email ids.

My 'formal and respectable' email id turned out to be ...... wait for it........ here it comes......

sukhbirsingh.ait@gmail.com

..

..

WHO PUTS THE INITIALS OF THEIR COLLEGE IN THEIR PERSONAL AND RESPECTABLE EMAIL ID ???????

Man!! That's got 'Loser' written all over it.
Once again, not so popular with girls.

Today, just before writing this post, I created another email id for myself.
This one on sify.

ribhkus@sify.com

In case you are wondering, that's my name spelled backwards.
You may laugh now.

"....with every mistake, we must surely be learning
while my guitar, gently weeps..."
-George Harrison.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

2007-06-24T11:22:00.000+05:30

How do you think an ideal Sunday should begin?

This is how I think it should be.

The warm rays of sun slipping, dodging their way through the numerous rain clouds in their way before managing to slip in through just the right amount of gap in your window curtains, hitting your face with the softest of caresses, gently nudging you to open your eyes to see the beautiful world outside just as the timer on your computer activates and starts playing ‘Desolation Row’ – like icing on a cake – to finally wake you up completely and make you sit on your bed smiling, feeling good about life and full of hope about the possibilities that this particular Sunday might offer you.
You then lazily walk to the door, pick up the milk packet, go to the kitchen, make yourself a nice hot cup of hot chocolate and just crash on the carpet in front of the TV, watching the ‘Classic Rock hour’ on VH1 while reading the newspaper, without a care in the world.

Now let me describe to you how the Sunday actually began for me today.

8:00 AM. Loud banging on the door. Someone is also repeatedly pressing the doorbell. Since I was in the middle of a dream where I was an undercover spy hiding in a hotel somewhere in Berlin, I run to get my pistol. I am not really sure but I think the door-banging and the bell-ringing goes on for about a min or so. I finally manage to drag myself out of bed. Very, very sleepy. Open the door to find a big pool of milk on the floor outside the door, which is slowly dripping down the stairs to the level below, where a bunch of housewives in their night-suits are standing and shouting something in marathi.
Total confusion.
Then one of them realizes that maybe – due the fact that I belong to a land 1500 km away from maharashtra – I DON’T speak marathi. So she switches the shouting to hindi and I am duly informed that I must clean this mess of spilled milk and wash it down with water and also clean the stairs till the next level because there is some inspection in our society today to determine the cleanest and neatest building.

(blink) (blink)

What the (--beeeeeeeeeeeeep--) ?????
(--beep--) (--beep--) hell.
(--beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep--)
%$^&%(#@%!~!@#^%$#*&^%$#@

NOTE: This is a family blog. Rating – U/A.

The reality slowly starts sinking in. The pool of milk has been caused by this wild cat - i call her 'Billi' - that roams about in our building. Earlier the milk man would leave the milk packet on the floor outside the door and the 'Billi' would rip it open, drink about 5% of the milk, and let the rest flow down the stairs. Since then, i had hung this bag made of thick cardboard outside the door and lived happily thinking that i had finally defeated the 'Billi'. But, it seems that this notorious cat, 'Billi', had been secretly training in the ancient chinese art of 'Flying Cat Style' kung-fu, because today, she managed to make a 2-inch wide rip on the cardboard bag and then rip the milk packet throught the outer rip and drank 5% of the milk letting the rest flow down the stairs.

Cats are mean. I hate cats.

Anyways, the nice guy that I am, there was not much I could do about the situation. So I trudged back into the bathroom, filled up a bucket of water and poured it outside the door. Of course, since water has this nasty tendency of spreading in all directions when poured on a flat surface, a large quantity of it ended up inside my house – with a significant milk component in it as well.

Oh crap!

As I was standing there, with both my feet in milky-water, my eyes half shut with sleep, watching this milky-water slowly creep towards my carpet, imagining the smirk on 'Billi's' face and feeling the stares of the 2 housewives standing on the level below, something strange happened and the 35 year old housewife, that resides in all of us, woke up inside me.
I got into hyper-efficient mode, cleaned up the stairs, cleaned up the inside of the house and even managed to make some small-talk with the two housewives on the level below.

By this time, I had entered my Obsessive Compulsive Cleanliness Disorder and I started cleaning the dishes and ended up spending about 1 hour cleaning the whole kitchen as well.

By the time I finished all the cleaning up, I realized there was no milk in the house, and my sunday was officially ruined. Now the general store is just outside my society gate, but I was too lazy to walk down the 5 stories and since the phone of the general store wasn’t working, I spent the next 15 mins looking for a scrap of paper somewhere on my desk where I had written down – a long time ago – the backup number of the general store. By the time I finally switched on VH1, the classic rock hour had ended and they were showing 5 men/boys/(?) dressed in white suits, dancing in an airplane hangar. Bummer!

My life is brilliant !

And how was your Sunday?

A Day in the Life of...

2007-06-19T14:17:00.000+05:30

WARNING: THIS IS BY FAR THE LONGEST POST I HAVE EVER WRITTEN. PLEASE BE PATIENT WITH IT.

DISCLAIMER: The events that follow bear no resemblance to any person living or dead - other than me. Any resemblance found would be considered extremely creepy and therefore must NOT be shared with me at any cost. These are actual events and have not been modified in anyway to make them sound funny.

A couple of days ago, one of my favorite bloggers, Scott Adams, gave a detailed description of his day on his blog. I found it quite interesting and have decided to share with you the detailed description of a random meaningless morning of my life.

6:00 AM - Woke up, silenced the alarm and sat up on the bed. Looked at my toes for about 5 mins. Now people like to do various things when they get up early. Some go and make themselves a cup of tea, some go for a walk/jog, some study, some do meditation or yoga. I have this really simple thing that I like to do first thing in the morning -- sleep some more.

8:00 AM - Woke up again, looked at the time, cursed, and sat up on the bed. Looked at my toes for about 5 mins. Still wasn't sure if I had woken up or not because I could vividly remember the dream that I had been dreaming... I am strangely good at remembering my dreams... In this dream I was a member of an elite assassin squad preparing myself to hunt down an enemy spy hiding somewhere in a big warehouse right in front of me. I was carrying a Desert Eagle and an AK-47. The bullets were of orange color for some reason. I woke up just as we were about to enter the warehouse. Anyways, thankfully, something inside me clicks at this point of time and I go into Auto-Pilot mode. I go to the door and collect the milk packet, go to the kitchen and begin to make myself a 400 ml glass of cold coffee. There are no clean spoons. I begin to wonder if I should wash a spoon or just re-use an old one. I don't remember how long I ponder upon this because I am still in auto-pilot mode. I eventually decide just to rinse the spoon with water and re-use it. The cold coffee more or less makes itself since I have been doing this for so long now that I don't have to think about the individual steps.

8:15 AM - I sit down on the carpet in front of the TV with my glass of cold coffee and stare at the newspaper for a while. I realize that the words are not making much sense, which meant I was still not out of the auto-pilot mode. My hand reaches for the remote and automatically changes the channel to Zee Cafe where last night's run of "Tonight Show with Jay Leno" is coming. I watch it again (having already watched it last night) for about 15 mins. Finished about half the cold coffee by this time. Still in auto-pilot mode. Not good.

8:30 AM - Switch to Star World and start watching 'The Simpsons'. This is another morning ritual. Watching 'The Simpsons'. In about 15 mins, I have finished the cold coffee, but, I am also beginning to get out of the auto-pilot mode, so it's all right. I don't *officially* wake up till I have seen 'The Simpsons' in the morning and drank about half a liter of Cold Coffee.

9:00 AM - Did 'thing' that must be done in the morning.

9:10 AM - Read newspaper for another 10 mins.

9:20 AM - Started watching India TV - the greatest news channel in the whole world. They show only 'Breaking News'. The other day, for about 1 hour, they were showing 2 cobras mating in some town near Delhi.
WITH RUNNING COMMENTARY!
AND I WAS WATCHING!!!.
They were also playing that haunting 'Nagin' tune in the background. Brilliant!

9:30 AM - Realize that I should probably start getting ready for office. However I need a proper setup before I can start getting dressed. This primarily consists of two things - India TV running on the television with the sound muted off and some music playing. Generally, I like to begin my day with some good ol' Classic Rock. But today, I decided to start by listening to some soft country music.

9:35 AM - Manage to find some freshly washed underwear and head to the bathroom. Suddenly the song "Tennessee Stud" by Johnny Cash starts playing. Now I really love this song and suddenly, midway to the bathroom, I realize that I DON"T know how to play this on the guitar. It sounded like a pretty simple song with a great Chord Progression. So I retreated my steps back to the bedroom, connected the laptop to the internet and searched for the chords of the song. At about this point of time, I made the decision that I would write about today morning in my blog.

9:40 AM - Decided to check my Orkut homepage for new scraps while searching for the chords. Not many people scrap me, but I guess that's because I don't scrap many people either. Anyways, decided to delete all the scraps in my scrap book... Remove all evidence. Found the chords of the song and started practicing on the guitar.

9:45 AM - Could play the song pretty well by now. Decided to practice some singing as well. This song really suits my 'voice'. Or whatever it is that comes out of my mouth when I blow wind through my "voice bone thingy". My fingers start to hurt by now because I haven't been playing the guitar regularly recently. I decide to stop.

10:00 AM - Go for a bath.

10:05 AM - Come out from the bath. Some horrible song is playing. Spend the next 5 mins making a playlist for the remainder of the morning. Really tempted to play "Tennessee Stud" once more but decide that I am really getting late now. Mentally declare Code Red. Well... Maybe not red but definitely Code Dark Orange.

10:10 AM - Couldn't decide what to wear. Started ironing a freshly washed trouser but decided that I didn't have time so picked out some already ironed clothes from the wardrobe. Suddenly realized that most of my casual clothes either belonged to the yellow or the red color family. Was confused for a bit as to how this ended up happening. Made a mental note to buy some new formal wear soon.

10:30 AM - Fully dressed. Have to go the university today to collect my degree. I graduated 2 years ago. Find my marksheet and put in my bag. Go through the checklist of items that I cannot leave the house without - 1.Mobile phone 2.Keys 3.iPod 4.Wallet 5.Sodexho coupons
Everything is in my pockets. All set to go. Switched off the laptop, turned of the TV and tossed the remote on the sofa, switched off all the lights, pulled all the curtains, closed all the doors, watered the plants, picked up the lock and suddenly realized that I hadn't had any breakfast!!!
Now they say that breakfast is the MOST important meal of the day. So, needless to say, breakfast must be had. I figure that since I am already so late, a few minutes won't make any difference. Went to the kitchen, managed to find a clean bowl. Served some Kellogg's Chocos into it and put a little bit of cold milk. Then realized that there are no clean spoons left. Stand still for about 1 min, looking at all the dirty spoons lying in the sink to see if I can find one which might be reused. Finally decide that i'll have to clean one after all.

10:32 AM - Bring the bowl of Chocos to the living room. Then realize that I can't switch on the TV because the remote is lying on the sofa and there is the carpet in between and I am wearing shoes and I have this self imposed rule of 'No Shoes on the Carpet'. The laptop is also switched off. So, I just stand there in the living room, in total silence, looking at a some freshly washed laundry drying on the clothes rack, and begin to crunch the Chocos. Soon I notice that the Chocos make a crunching noise which resembles footsteps and if I time the crunching properly, I can make it sound like a parade of marching men. Not the republic day kind of parade. More like a group of men marching victorious into a city. This train of though leads me into imagining that I am a general leading a troop of allied forces into Berlin after the surrender of the Nazis - while I am eating Kellogg's Chocos.

10:35 AM - Finished the chocos. Locked the door and since I am on a fitness drive these days, I decide to take the stairs. Of course, since my building does not have any elevators, I don't have too many options.

10:35:30 AM - Climb down the 5 stories in about 30 secs. Could be improved. Clean the seat of my bike and decide to start it by rolling it down the slope of the parking lot instead of the usual boring method of kick-starting it. Drive away.

10:36 AM - Realize that I forgot to turn on my iPod. Stop the bike on the side and ponder for a while which song to listen to. Finally settle on 'Another Brick in the wall - part 1' . Drive off again.

10:39 AM - The song changes to "Theme of Don". The old don... with Amit ji. This brings a smile to my face. "Don" is one of my all time favorite movie characters. I get into full 'Don' mode. Thinking like him. Acting like him. I happen to be in that part of my office-bound journey where I pass through a stretch of narrow winding roads. So I start imagining that the Police is chasing me and I begin to look suspiciously at passer-by's. I am sure I managed to freak-out a few of them. I have a very vivid visual imagination and I like to call this phenomenon "Hallucinations on Demand". Then comes the best of part of the song - the conversation between Amit ji (Don) and Helen (Sonia). It goes something like ...

Sonia: "Insaan yeh jaan sakya hai ki chaand aur suraj mein kya chhupaa hai. Par yeh nahin jaan sakta ki ek ladki ke dil mein kya chhupaa hai."
Don: "Mujhe ladkiyon ke dil mein koi dilchaspi nahin. Isiliye to aaj tak zinda hoon. Oh god! Getting late. "
Sonia: "Ek peg aur banaoon? "
Don: "Some other time baby!!"

Sheer cinematic genious!

10:43 AM - The song changes to 'Bitter sweet symphony' by The Verve. Now this is the kind of song that makes me want to look at trees out of the window of a moving car on a rainy day. But since my bike doesn't have any windows, I decided to take the next available option - looking at the reflection of the trees in the rear window of the car moving in front of me.
Now some of you may think that this is a dangerous thing to do, but I have practiced this art to near perfection. I just use all my concentration power to focus on the rear window of the car in front of me and making sure that the distance between us remains constant. Now since the car acts like a shield to protect me from on-coming traffic, if done on a relatively pot-hole free road, this is a fairly risk-free thing to do. I do this for about 2 mins till the trees disappear from the road and I have to make a turn. The next few mins pass uneventfully.

10:48 AM - The song changes to "Tennessee Stud" !!! Now I happen to believe that the best place to practice singing for a budding singer with no-voice is while driving on the road on a bike. The noise of the engine coupled with the music already playing in your ears drowns out pretty much all the cacophonous frequencies that come out of your "voice bone thingy". This way, the only people you creep out are strangers on the road who don't really matter coz you're not likely to meet them again. Although I stay alone and have the whole house to myself, somehow, singing at the top of my voice in my usually-quite house always ends up giving me nightmares for days.
Anyways, I spend the remainder of my journey singing "Tennessee Stud" on the top of my voice while passers-by look on.

10:55 AM - Reach office. Park bike. Climb up the 4 floors in about 20 secs. Not bad.

11:00 AM - Log on. Read mail.

11:05 AM - Start writing this post.

The End.

Dream on...

2007-06-18T13:56:00.001+05:30

One year ago, I started this blog to solve the 2 major problems of my life:
1. How to make tons of money.
2. How to find the perfect woman.

The plan was simple. I would write in the blog. It would be funny and witty. I would then publicize the blog using cheap publicity stunts like:
1. Emailing every one in my contacts list.
2. Shameless word-of-mouth publicity (read my previous post - 'Why the name?' ).
3. Chinese Water Torture technique on my close friends.
4. And last but not the least, using the greatest (cheapest) publicity tool available to my generation - The Orkut Scrapbook.

According to my initial analysis and going by the response I got to my first post, I predicted that the readership of my blog would be something like:
End of first month - 10
End of second month - 100
End of third month - 1000
End of first year - 1000000

Now, no matter which way you look at it, a readership of 1 million has got to be worth something. I figured one of the big powerhouses of the web world (Google, yahoo, Amazon...) would buy me out. I would have settled for no less than $500 Million.

So this would have taken care of the 'tons of money' angle.

Now, the 'find the perfect woman' part of the plan was a bit more complicated.

To do this, I would have produced and acted in a film with the superstar Rajnikant. I would have hired Hrithik Roshan as a "Dance Double", John Abraham as a "Face Double", and KK as my "Acting Double". The rest I would have done myself. Needless to say, this film would have gone on to become India's biggest hit and because of the presence of both a North Indian (me) and Rajnikant (THE South Indian), I would have become a house hold name all over India. Now since the film would be such a big hit, it would be invited as an entry in the Cannes film festival. And there, on the red carpet, I would bump into Angelina Jolie. Our eyes would meet, sparks would fly, my "Body double", Salman Khan, would kick Brad Pitt's ass, and Angie and I would live happily ever after in a vineyard in France.

The plan was foolproof. It had to work.

But somehow, as I sit back now and reflect upon the 12 months that have passed since I started this blog, I find myself with a bank balance that is dangerously close to 3 figures and the only "New woman" in my life is the new maid that comes to my house. She doesn't speak any language that I understand, doesn't listen to Classic Rock, is not a fan of Manchester United, doesn't play basketball and doesn't like English Literature.
And I don't think she's a model either.

Oh, and the readership count of my blog has not crossed over into that mysterious realm of 2-digits.

Crap!

The right and the wrong way to fill petrol

2006-11-21T12:08:00.000+05:30

Although I make a conscious effort to look at the events happening around me as objectively as I can, sometimes, I just can’t help being judgmental.

Take for instance the way lady riders fill petrol in their scootys/kinetics etc.

I went to the petrol pump in the morning. There was a huge rush there which generally is the case at that hour of the day. Of course, I don’t mind standing in such queues at all thanks to me iPod. So I patiently waited for my turn. When it finally came, I told the guy how much fuel I wanted, took out the money from my wallet as he was filling the petrol, handed him the money when he finished while simultaneously closing the fuel cap on me bike, took the change and held it in between my lips. With my wallet still in one hand, I dragged the bike forward with the other hand so that others waiting behind me could come forward and start filling.

Total turn around time – approx 30 secs !!

Now before all this happened, I saw this lady waiting in the queue. She was on one of those scooty things where you have to lift the seat up to access the fuel tank. Now, all the time she was waiting in the queue, she was sitting on her scooty. When her turn came, she calmly put the scooty on the main stand. Next she proceeded to remove her “White” gloves (??) and her Taliban head gear. Next she opened the seat and the fuel filling process started. After the requested amount of fuel had been filled-in, she closed the seat and dived into this huge bag that she was carrying on her scooty floor. I suppose she was looking for her purse because that’s what her hand came out with. She took the money out of the purse, waited for the change, put the change back in the purse and put the purse back in the bag. Then she put on her Taliban head-gear and her white gloves, put the scooty on it’s feet, pressed the electric start button and zoomed off.

Total turn-around time – approx 3 mins !!

I am completely against things like reservation and stuff. Even the whole cry about “women’s liberation’ seems kinda old and meaningless to me in the present times. But for once, I wish that they’d start having a separate queue for lady riders at the petrol pumps. And they should employ a lady to fill the petrol in the queue. That way, you create jobs for ladies, the lady rider can chat with the lady filler discussing the last episode of Nach Balliye and SIX guys can get petrol filled in the normal queue in the meantime. A win-win situation I say.

Now here’s the funny thing. Every thing I wrote above is highly exaggerated. So much so that it’s almost all false (the part concerning the lady rider). But - think about this honestly - how many of you actually believed what I wrote and didn’t think that I was just making this all up??

See ??

I think I’ve still managed to make a point.

PS: My sincere apologies if I’ve offended any ladies. Your comments are welcome.

Hello Champa

2006-10-17T15:11:00.000+05:30

Check out the conversation I had about 15 mins ago with this phone banking agent. This has been reproduced word for word.

Voice: Is this mister Singh?
Mister Singh: Yes.
Voice: Hello mister Singh. This is Champa (name changed – coz I forgot her real name) calling on behalf of HSBC bank.
Mister Singh: Hello Champa.
Voice: Would this be a convenient time to talk to you mister Singh?
Mister Singh: Yes Champa. This would infact be an excellent time to talk to me.
Voice: Mr. Singh, since you are a valuable customer of HSBC bank, we have some special offers for you.
Mister Singh: Oh really! How nice. Pray tell me about them.
Voice: Before I talk to you about the offers, I would like to confirm if you have credit cards from any other bank apart from HSBC.
Mister Singh: No. I don’t. I am very satisfied with the service provided by your bank.
Voice: The first offer is regarding balance transfer to other credit cards. We are offering this feature on very low interest rates.
Mister Singh: Hello?? Hello?? I can’t hear you Champa. Hold on…
Voice: Hello?? Mister Singh? Can you hear me?
Mister Singh: Hello?? Hello?? Oh the signal is really weak here. Let me move to a different place. Hello?? Can you hear me Champa? Don’t hang up.
Voice: Hello?? Mister Singh?
Mister Singh: Hello?? Yes I can hear you now. Go ahead.
Voice: As I was saying, we have 2 offers for you. The first offer is regarding balance transfer to other credit cards. We are offering this feature on very low interest rates.
Mister Singh: Oh. How nice. But I just said that I don’t have any other credit cards.
Voice: Oh! Right. Okay mister Singh. Our other offer is regarding HSBC credit cards. We are offering you up to 3 more cards absolutely for free.
Mister Singh: You mean I don’t have to pay after I use them?
Voice: No no no no!!! You don’t have to pay any yearly rental or initial charges.
Mister Singh: Oh! But Champa, what will I do with 3 more credit cards?
Voice: Well mister Singh, you could give them to your family members.
Mister Singh: But Champa, I am a bachelor.
Voice: But you could give them to your parents or brothers and sisters.
Mister Singh: But they already have Credit cards, Champa.
Voice: I see. Anyways, thank you for your time mister Singh.
Mister Singh: No problem Champa. Hope to hear from you again about more offers.
Voice: (click)
Mister Singh: (laughing.....)

I can’t help wondering why I hadn’t written about this topic till now. These calls irritate me like few other things do. And I am sure many of you share my feelings. I have tried everything from politely saying “No thank you” to rudely hanging up the phone – but nothing seems to be helping. So finally I have discovered this new way of handling such calls which serves three purposes. Let me explain.

As you can see from the conversation pasted above, this call must have taken at least a min- min&half , as opposed to 10-15 secs had I said no in the beginning. Now these calls are costing these banks money. How much money – is up to you and me. Here is my theory-
There are a billion people in this country. Assuming 50% of those fall in the age group of income-earners. Assuming 10% of those fall in the category of middle-class, upper middle class salaried or self-employed people. Assuming only 10% of those have a credit card. This comes out to be 5 million people. I receive on an average about 2 calls per day from these banks. So this comes out to be 10 million calls/day. Assuming you make each call last a min longer than it normally does, and at 30 paisa/ min, this comes out to be 3 million rupees/day. That’s more than 1 billion Rs / year !!!
That’s a huge amount. So, just by bull-shitting the bank agent a little longer, you can cut a hole in the evil corporate bank’s pocket to the size of a BILLION rupees. That’s huge man. For 2 min of bull-shitting per day!!!

Now comes the second angle to my theory. I really feel sorry for these call center agents. I genuinely do. I would hate to do a job like that. Talking to irate customers all day long-man that’s gotta suck!!! I am assuming someone’s randomly monitoring these calls in the call-centre. So if this guys listens in to a conversation like I mentioned above, he would think – ‘Ah! Here’s a satisfied sounding customer. I am sure the agent is doing a good job. I must recommend her for a raise”.
Needless to say, this will cut another hole in the bank’s pocket.

Finally having a conversation like this makes me smile for at least 10 mins. I think that alone makes it worth it.

Wot say?

Poultry Farm

2006-08-16T14:05:00.000+05:30

Today I went to buy the form for the entrance test of a post graduate course in management. It’s called CAT. I think it stands for Common Aptitude Test… or something like that.
Now this CAT is a big deal in my country. A real big deal. It’s supposed to be the most difficult entrance examination to crack in the “whole wide world” owing to the intense competition because of the sheer number of people sitting for it. But competing with about a gazillion people every time you want entrance in some college is something all Indians get used to growing up.
Anyways, as I was standing in the line waiting for my turn to come, which took about 2 hours of standing by the way, several thoughts went through my mind.
I was asking myself if I am really fit for doing a management course.

Let’s see.

1. I was buying the form on the second last day before the deadline, with a good chance that the forms might actually run out.
Implies -> Not very responsible.

Imagine me going on to become the CEO of some company.

Second-in-Command: Boss, I think its time for us to file for bankruptcy. I think we can still save our ass and get out of this mess.
Me: Hmmm. When’s the last date? Oh, there’s plenty of time. You worry too much!

2. I should have been at the place where the forms were being sold really early. To avoid the rush. In fact, I even woke up at 6:30 today (which is a BIG deal for me), thinking that I’d be there by around 8:15 or so. And I would have, had I not switched on the frickin’ Idiot Box at 6:30 in the morning and started watching the same episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. which I saw last night before sleeping.
Implies -> Not good at managing time.

Second-in-command: Let’s go boss. The shareholders are waiting at the AGM. And we have to meet the president soon after.
Me: Sshhhh…. Grab a chair man. You just came at the right moment. I am watching Rocky-10. Stallone is about to kick the other guy’s ass in the World Octagenarian Heavyweight Championship.

Second-in-command: But sir, the president, the shareholders !!!
Me: Dude!!! Did you not hear me? ROCKY-10 !!!

3. I haven’t yet started studying for this CAT thing. And it’s just 3 months away. I think…
Implies - >Doesn’t have a grip on Status Quo.

Second-in-command: Sir, the SSCMEE team is here.
Me: The who???

Second-in-command: Sir, the audit team. To give us the SSCMEE security rating.
Me: The What?

Second-in-command: Sir, don’t you remember? You signed the proposal last week.
Me: Wait a minute? When did THAT happen?

Now I don’t know what qualities are looked for in a typical “”MBA-Material”” kinda guy, but I am sure “Irresponsible”, “Bad manager of time” and “Not having a grip on situation” are not one of them.

I think I should open a poultry farm or something. I mean how difficult can it be making/selling eggs. Just leave a couple of hens with a horny rooster and let nature do the rest.

Right???

How I got inspired, made a plan, and got a life

2006-08-08T19:58:00.000+05:30

I keep having this sinking feeling every now and then that i am just wasting
away my life. Everyone around me seems to have a plan. Some are studying
(for CAT, for GRE, for GMAT), some are changing jobs, some are getting to go
onsite and earn dollars. In short, everyone seems to be doing something or
preparing for something. They have "A Plan". And then there is yours tru'ly.
The only planning i seem to be doing is to decide where to eat my dinner
tonight, which movie to watch when i get back home and whether to watch the
Nth re-run of F.R.I.E.N.D.S (what's with the dots? so difficult to type!!)
on Star World or "The fabulous life of the rich and famous" on VH1.

Hmm... Not good. Not good at all.

So then i decided, on one fine morning, to come up with my
own "Plan". Normally, i wouldn't put a personal thing like that on this
blog, but when i finished making the plan and read it, i was so damn sure i
wasn't going to follow even a single part of it, that i burst out laughing
at my own optimism.

The Plan

1. Finances - Start keeping strict track of finances. Avoid splurging. Do
NOT go anywhere near a supermarket for at least a month. Hide Credit
Card somewhere. Kick room-mate whenever he says "Ja, jee le apni zindagi".

2. Food - Only veg food (eggs are veg). One month trial basis. Non-veg only
when out with friends. "Naughty Angels Cafe" does not count as outing. Cut
down on junk food. Stay away from McDonalds and KFC.

3. Work - Try... just try to come to work on time every day (Office starts
at 9:30 by the way). Don't leave early unless something important
comes up (going home and watching "Seinfeld" does NOT count as "something
important") . Don't chill-out at office.

4. Learning - Start reading more. Finish at least one book every week. Start
reading more mags ( "Top Gear" does not count. Neither does
"Digit"). And for god's sake start the MCAD preparation.

5. Television - CUT DOWN. Watch more news. Do not watch "Fabulous life of
the rich and famous" on VH1 and "MTV Cribs" anymore.

6. Body - Sleep earlier everyday. By around 12. Wake up early. Around 7
should be fine. Start doing push-ups everyday. And any other exercise which
can be done indoors. Bring out the skipping rope.

7. Guitar - Practice for at least half an hour everyday. Be religious about
it.

8. Laptop - Use it for something better than playing games (Counter-Strike
is NOT a game. It is a tried and tested method for stress-relief).
Un-install Doom3. start readin tech books on it.

9. Movies - Not more than 5 per week ( 2 on weekdays, 3 on weekends). Not
more than 1 in theatre per week. Do NOT watch Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna.

10. Mind - Start writing more. Write something every night before going to
bed. Try and add something to the blog at least once a week.

As i said, after reading this, it was hard not to laugh at my own optimism.
I am sitting in office and writing all this. I guess point #3
would be kinda difficult to deal with.

Common Sense

2006-07-24T17:23:00.000+05:30

There comes a moment in every man’s life when all he wishes for is a Chain-saw or a Desert Eagle or a Sawed off shotgun to blow off a couple of heads. Today, I encountered such a moment.

I had to attend some stupid meeting about some stupid audit. Every one from my Program Manager to… well…err.. myself – me being at the lowest level of the hierarchy – was present there. Now most of the people present there were really senior. And I am sure they must have attended plenty of meetings in their careers. And this meeting was labeled to be **Critical** in the meeting invitation that I had received earlier.

Now, the program manager was saying something which I didn’t really pay much attention to. I was just sitting there, peacefully, staring out the window, dreaming about Pirates of Caribbean, imagining myself to be Captain Jack “Singh” Sparrow, walking on the beach with Kiera Knightly, drinking rum … you get the picture, when suddenly, someone’s mobile phone rang. As the concerned person was fumbling stupidly with his phone, I was sure he was going to get a lecture from the Program Manager. But no, the PM just kept on talking as if nothing had happened. I was a bit surprised to say the least. And then 5 mins later, another phone… and then another… and then another till finally the grand finale. The Project Manager’s phone rings. Aaghhh. The Agony! A gun. Please! Somebody stop them!!!

You see, I just don’t understand this kind of behavior. I refuse to believe that these people are unaware of the “Silent” feature on the mobile… hellooo??? What’s wrong with them? I am the kind of guy who keeps my phone silent any time it’s in my pocket. And this is not just because I have a really old phone with a very embarrassing “Mono” ring tone, it’s because I … well actually, it’s just that. But still, in a meeting?? A critical meeting! Come on, give me a break. Does it take a rocket scientist to figure out that it’s really disturbing to hear “Sawan mein lag gayi aag” or some other stupid shit when you are dreaming about Kiera Knightley… err, I mean, when you are discussing critical audit issues?

Where has all the common sense gone?

One fine Monday

2006-07-24T14:18:00.000+05:30

It’s Monday. The time is 11:15, in the morning. I’ve been in office for an hour now and the net sum of what I have achieved so far comprises of drinking a cup of tea and checking my mail. I am feeling really sleepy because I was up late last night playing Counter Strike. I am looking at a day of really boring work ahead of me. I am feeling very cold because I got wet when coming to office and the AC here is really very powerful. And someone stole the stationary on my desk – again.
Good morning to you all!

It’s Monday. The time is 11:30, in the morning. I had a really chilled-out weekend. Saw lotsa good movies and played hours of Counter Strike. Woke up late in the morning. No hurry in coming to office. After all just some boring work to do all day. Plus I have a really cool manager who doesn’t really mind if I come in late. I got wet on the way to work today, but that was more by choice as I love getting wet in the rain. Although I won’t have anything super-exciting to do for the rest of the day, at least it gives me the time to write.
Good morning to you all!

Same morning. Two versions. Started writing the first version. Then felt that things weren’t as bad as I like to make them seem. Or rather, things don’t have to be as bad as I’d like them to be to give my self an excuse for cribbing.

“… I look at the world, and I notice it’s turning,
While my guitar gently weeps…”

Quality Objectives

2006-07-20T12:53:00.000+05:30

This morning, when I came to office, I found the following memo on my desk.

Quality Policy
We are commited to meet customer's needs and expectations by delivering competitive IT and Business Process Outsourcing services and solutions.

Objectives
1. Deliver IT and BPO services and solutions that meet customer requirements.
2. Acquire and build long lasting relationships.
3. Improve our competitiveness by enhancing employee skills, process performance and technology utilization.

Let me pause a moment here to say - Hmmmmm…..

The management sure does know how to make their employees laugh out loud first thing in the morning.

I wonder how many MBAs it took to come up with this. I can imagine the meeting between the top brass and the newly recruited Over-enthusiastic MBA grad going something like this.

Top Brass #1: All right people. We need to show that we are doing some work. So I say, let's create a list of our quality objectives. We'll put the most obvious things in it and put it up on the wall where everyone can see it. Fills up the space on the walls in the lobby nicely. Those damn paintings are too frickin expensive.

Over-enthusiastic MBA Grad: (raising hand) Ooh ooh. I know what else we can do. We can take print outs of the objectives and put one on each employee's desk. Those stupid developers sure like sticking up things in their cubicles.

Top Brass #2: Hmmmm. That's a Great Idea. Let's do it. So what do we put in this objectives list?

Top Brass #1: Let's see. One objective could be - "Deliver IT and BPO services".

Top Brass #2: But what's so special about that? All IT companies do that.

Over-enthusiastic MBA Grad: (raising hand) Ooh ooh. I know. We deliver IT and BPO services….(a small pause here)... That Meet Customer Requirements !!

Top Brass #1: Woh dude! You are on Fire today!! That's brilliant. Sums up neatly what we do.

Top Brass #2: I just thought of another objective. I read this somewhere. "Build Long Lasting Relationships".

Over-enthusiastic MBA Grad: (raising hand) Ooh ooh. I just proposed to my girlfriend yesterday.

Top Brass #1: (smiling with paternal affection) You truly belong in this company.

Over-enthusiastic MBA Grad: (raising hand) Ooh ooh. And lets also put these quality objectives as everyone's desktop and screensaver.

Top Brass #2: But we already do that.

Over-enthusiastic MBA Grad: (crestfallen, yet with undying enthusiasm) Oh. Then let's go one step ahead. Let's put floor-to-ceiling carpets printed with these objectives, let's print t-shirts with these objectives and make it mandatory for employees to buy them, let's play a tape on the PA system endlessly repeating these objectives, let's….. Aaaagghhh!!! Objectives! Objectives! Objectives!

Top Brass #1: (smiling at Top Brass #2) Boy, this kid is GOOD.

Top Brass #2: (smiling at Top Brass #1) Yup. He sure is. Worth every rupee of the 10 Lakh we pay him annually. I am glad we were able to hire him. I wonder how he managed to stay un-placed till so late in the final semester.

Top Brass #1: He must have been too busy studying to bother about placements. His girlfriend sure is a lucky girl.

Over-enthusiastic MBA Grad: (raising hand) Ooh ooh. And while we are at it, let's apply for CMMMMIIII level 100 too. It will sure look good on my resume.

Lucky indeed….

Why the name?

2006-07-19T19:02:00.000+05:30

Ever since I have published my blog, a lot of people have questioned me about the URL of the blog – “bovina-sancta”. What does it mean and why did I choose it.

The answer to the first part is – “bovina-sancta” is Latin for “Holy Cow!”. Like the exclamation. Do you get the intended subtle **Humor** ? If you do, then your sense of humor is as bad as mine. And if you don’t, well, then you must be dumb or something.

The answer to the second part is – it’s a lame attempt on my part to be **witty**. I could have chosen a name like “Mythoughts” or something like that, but come on, that’s just plain boring. And people always prefer the ‘witty’, ‘humorous’, ‘attractive’ to the ‘plain’, ’simple’, ’boring’.

Imagine me having a conversation with a hot chick. It goes something like this-

Hot chick: So what are your hobbies?
Me: Well other than spending time in orphanages and slums, playing with terminally ill children, working with several NGOs, I also like writing. I even have a blog. You should check it out sometime. www.mythoughts.com.

Hot chick: Nice. I’ll check it out sometime.
Me: Okay.

End of conversation. Now the pressure will be on me to come up with another topic.

On the other hand, imagine this alternative-

Hot chick: So what are your hobbies?
Me: Well other than spending time in orphanages and slums, playing with terminally ill children, working with several NGOs, I also like writing. I even have a blog. You should check it out sometime. www.bovina-sancta.com.

Hot chick: Oh. What does that mean?
Me: It’s Latin for “Holy Cow”! Like the exclamation.

Hot chick: (impressed) So you know Latin?
Me: Yeah. A little. I picked it up from the internet.

Hot chick: (in a suggestive manner) You must teach me too.
Me: (giving the “I got your hint” look) Definitely.

And then I ask her for a dance. In Latin of course.

So then. I think I have proven my point here. I rest my case. In case you still haven’t understood, you must be dumb or something.

About first conversations

2006-07-14T19:10:00.000+05:30

Question: How do you begin conversation with a colleague sitting in the cubicle next to you.

Parameters:
1. The colleague is not in the same project as you.
2. The colleague shares your extension number.
3. The colleague doesn't seem to be the talkative, friendly, <<"Hi i brought sweets from home, eat them">> kind.
4. The colleague looks to be the kind who'll be able to have an intelligent conversation, and not the <<"..then he did this, and then she said that, he he he he...">> kind of conversation.
5. The colleague looks to be roughly in the same age group (20-25) as me.
6. The colleague happens to be a girl.

There you go. The problem has been defined. Ordinarily, I would leave such a colleague alone, but parameter #6 somehow changes the whole equation. My "Inner Killer Male Survival Instinct" (mentioned in earlier posts as well, to be henceforth refered to as IKMSI) has kicked in, and no matter how much i try, it refuses to leave me alone. Therefore, something must be done.
Now, when it comes to girls, i am NOT very good at opening lines. Generally when being introduced to a girl (which is an event which takes place every time all the planets line up in a straight line. (It does happen, okay!!)), all i manage to come up with is a forced smile and a few words like.... well, "Hi". And this too when i am introduced by someone else. I generally hope that the person who is introducing me likes me enough to say some nice things about me. Now it's not that i am shy or something. And i think i can be really funny too. In fact, i fancy myself to be quite a decent conversationalist. But somehow, when it comes to talking to strange girls (wait, that didn't sound right), i am completely clueless.

So let's see. What are a few opening lines.

1. Me: The weather is really fine today.
The Girl: We are sitting in an air-conditioned room you dickhead.
2. Me: Hi. I would like to do friendship with you.
The Girl: F***k off!
3. Me: My monitor is bigger than yours !!
The Girl: (no response)
4. Me: Hi. Myself Champak (real name changed).
The Girl: (questioning look)So??
5. Me: So which project are you in?
The Girl: Might actually respond.

So as you can see, i really am NOT good in this. And honestly, i can't understand how the whole "I want to do friendship with you" routine works. I have seen so many of those in Orkut. I just don't get it. Hell, if a weird looking girl (I put myself in the same category - Weird Looking ) came up to me said "Hi. Myself Pushpa. I would like to do friendship with you", i would just say "Talk to the hand!!! Girl!!". Of course if the girl happened to be Hot, my response would be very different (something like "aka haka daka laka aka daka baka" ). But then, the rules for hot people are different. And who am i to mess with them.

Back to the original question of this post. Its really weird actually. I am not really attracted to this girl or anything. It's more of an irritation actually. My inability to talk to her, that's driving me nuts.

Things used to be a lot simpler in school. Sitting in the same classroom sort of brings together people in an easy kind of way. You join a new school, sit in a class of 50 students for 1 month by the end of which everyone hopefully knows your name. Then you slowly start hanging around a group of people and the next thing you know, you've had had a conversation with almost every girl in the class. And you won't even remember how it began. It was that simple.

Things in college were slightly more complicated but breaking the ice still wasn't that difficult. You just go to a girl and ask if she has written the latest journal assignment ( which she inevitably would have) and even though you have no intention of actually writing the journal, its still as good an excuse as they come.

But here at work, things are really different. The strangers are actually strangers. That coupled with my inability and lack of interest to befriend all my colleagues, makes this a very daunting task. For some reason i have this incredible urge to be witty when meeting or talking to someone new. Even though they don't matter much to me, i have a feeling that first impressions do matter to a lot of people. So i guess this additional pressure makes things that much more difficult.

I wish i could put up sign on my desk saying - "I suffer from a severe speech disorder which i got when i got hit on the head by a speeding truck as a child while trying to save a puppy crossing a street. This disorder makes my shy from talking to strangers. Please initiate all conversations your self".

hmmm... I am sure i'll get a lot of sympathy votes from women.

The colleague just walked in. It's amazing how little time you take to press Windows Key + D after an year of Software Engineering.

Time to think

2006-07-06T15:12:00.000+05:30

Why am i here?
In the software industry? Did i ever reallly have a choice? I mean after doing computer engineering, it wouldn't have made much sense for me to start my medical practice. Right? And then the only reason i did engineering in the first place was cause i was scared shit of studying those 10-inch thick medical books.
So then what is my reason? Is it the money? Well it could have been, till a few years ago, but not anymore. Is it job satisfaction? I don't think so. At least not by doing the kind of work that's there is the industry these days. Is it job security? No. Is it the lifestyle? No. And no to a number of different reasons i could think of.
So then why AM i here? I have asked this question to myself a 1000 times during the last year and everytime i have drawn a blank. I even convinced myself for a while that a job is a job. It's just a mean of earning a livelihood. All that job-satisfaction nonsense is just that - non-sense. Somehow, working on boring projects under stupid deadlines, I forgot why i was here in the first place. I had become really jaded. 2 months sitting on the bench didn't help things either. I was confused whether i should quit all this and prepare for an MBA degree. After all, THAT certainly seems to be a panacea in everyone's opinion. "...get and MBA degree and earn big bucks. An MBA degree is the quickest way to the top...." . And i almost bought that.
But then, today, after 365 days of working in an industry i was not sure was right for me, I discovered my reason for being here.
And all it took for the realisation to strike was....
A small program. Hardly 30 lines of code. Just that. A program to calculate the largest prime number after a given number.
Let me explain.
I am learning Perl. Part of my new project. And as any programmer worth his while will tell you, the best way to learn a new language is by programming in it. So, as i started making small basic programs in Perl ( factorial, sorting, prime number, you know the kind..), something remarkable happened. For a while, I was transported back in time to my first year in college. To the time when i first started learning C. By making small programs just like these. And i felt what i had felt back then. The pure joy of coding. The thrill of running your program from the command line. The fun of tweaking around till you get it right. The joy of optimizing a 30 line code to a 20 line one which ends up running twice as slow. The first look of dissapointment when you find out that recursive programs, although cooler to look at, are not always better than their iterative counterparts. And now, after 4 years, as i make the same programs, in a language that is remarkably similar to C, i felt all that. The same childish excitement. And instantly i knew why was here.
I read the story about a millionaire from Texas who lost his fortune in gambling two times. But he made all the money back again. Simply because he loved doing what he did.
Now i am not implying that i will make millions by coding. I am just an average programmer. I have seen people far far better than me. The kind of people who create magic with the code they write and become millionaires. If I ever want to become rich and successful in life, I WILL have to evolve. Maybe that's why i will do an MBA. But that's not the point. The point is, that at least till that happens, i will be satisfied. I will have the satisfaction of knowing that i am not wasting my time. I am doing what i love doing. Even if i don't get the kind of work i want, i'll still manage to do allright, because underneath everything lies the fact that i love programming. I might not be exceptional at it, but i sure do love it. And if i manage to get the thrill of programming from time to time, even if the work i am doing is "Support and Maintenance", i'll be happy. And that's good enough for me.

please excuse me if you find this a little touchy-feely. What can i say, it's raining outside. :)

Death of a Software Engineer - Life on the bench

2006-07-06T15:09:00.000+05:30

Day 0

2:30 PM
Got the dreaded mail from HR.
“Please send your updated resume. And could you come and meet me ASAP?” (Damn!)
I thought what’s the hurry? Let’s delay the meeting as much as possible. Heck, I’ll not go today at all. Just going enjoy my last few hours with my super-fast machine.

3:30 PM
Got another mail from HR. No point in delaying the inevitable. Must go now. Take the blow head-on.

3:45 PM
(HR’s office)
NOTE: These HR people are really ‘different’ from us developers. You should see their offices. The over-decorated, stuffed-with-soft toys, post-it’s every where kinda cubicles. What’s the deal with that? Are we developers allowed to do that??

Conversation with Resource Manager:

RM: Hey ! How are you?
ME: (I’ve changed 2 projects in less than a month, I don’t have a place to sit, and your cubicle is so much better than mine… I hate you!!) Great! I’m good.
RM: So, you’re in the pool now.
ME: (Really!! You don’t say. I thought this meeting was to discuss our company's plans to go for a hostile takeover bid on Microsoft). Yes.
RM: So where are you from?
ME: (Why? Is our company planning to open a 20000 capacity Development center in my hometown and make me the manager? ) Well actually I’m from an army background, so I’ve never really stayed at one place for too long.
RM: Oh really? Which core?
ME: (What the …?). Signals
RM: My father was in the army too. He was in the core of Engineers.
ME: (Aaah! This is getting interesting. Army background. Same religious background. Not bad looking. Hello!!! Quick, look at her finger. Is she married?? Would she be having a boyfriend??) Oh really!
RM: So you were in Investec before.
ME: (Coffee? Movie? Dinner? Quick. Think!!!) Yes.
RM: Okay. So where are you sitting right now?
ME: (What was the name of that stupid movie, the one with the Himesh Reshamiya song. Deewana kar gaye humko or something….) I am sitting at my workstation in the Fujitsu ODC.
RM: Okay. You can’t sit there anymore. I’ll allocate you a new cubicle.
ME: (Adlabs? Inox? E-Square?.... WHAT ?? (Explosion. Fire Alarm. Mirror breaking.) NEW CUBICLE ??? NOOOOO. Be cool man. Be cool. It’s just for a couple of days.) Okay.
RM: Go to Alps Building, First floor and take either of workstation number 59,60 or 61.
ME: (Gulp. Jeez. Thanks a lot. You’ve made my day. You can forget the movie now) Okay.
RM: Okay then. That’ll be all. Call me when you get there to tell me your extension number.
ME: (Hmmm. Asking me to call back. And asking for my number. Forget it girl. You’ve blown your chance now) Okay. Thanks.

Well that was that. But life goes on. Must keep going. All that philosophical crap was going through my head as I walked back to my office to clear up my cubicle.

Problem: I have almost 1 GB of data in my personal folder on my workstation. I just can’t leave it behind. What to do?
Solution: The iPod !!
Catch: All my songs have to go. Songs that I took over 3 months to select and put on my iPod. Damn you. Is there any justice in this world? Damn you twice. And she had the nerve to ask me to call her back. Dream on baby. Dream on.

40 Minutes later

Machine 59, machine 59, where art thou? Machine 59. Ah! There it is. In the corner. Not a bad place. Wait a second. What do we have here? A girl. Sitting on machine 59. Heh heh. This might turn out to be a good experience after all. I’ll take number 60 and we’ll be happy ever after.
From this point of time, every thing is happening in a weird matrix style, bullet-time, slow motion kind of speed. I am walking towards machine 60. From the corner of my eye, I can see another guy (much older than me, and a lot less handsome, thank you very much) walking towards the general direction of machines 59,60 and 61. My male killer survival instinct kicks in (yes, we do have it. It’s called Libido). My feet start moving faster. Of course this distance of just a couple of feet is taking a lot of time to cover (slow motion, remember). My brain is already analyzing the relative speeds of ‘another guy’ and me and I am pretty sure I am going to beat him to machine 60. Heh Heh. Sucker.
I’d like to take a moment now to tell you about this bag I have. This small black executive bag that you hang on your side, you know, to go with the corporate look. I generally carry my Airtel bills for the last 7 months in it. Plus some stationary that I keep taking from the stationary store every now and then. You know, pencils, markers, pens, erasers, post-its etcetera, etcetera. Things that are absolutely essential for any software engineer to work efficiently. So this bag is very handy indeed.
Now I have been carrying this bag for almost 8 months. Never before has it given my any trouble. Trouble like getting caught in a sharp corner of a desk for instance. But at that very instant - just when I was but few steps away from machine 60, my Utopia, just when I could just start imagining the look on ‘another guy’s’ face when I’d take up machine 60, just when I’d started thinking about Movies and dinners and coffee again - my bag decided to get caught in a sharp corner of a desk. Stupid… stupid bag.
Of course you can imagine the rest of the story very well from this point of time. I lost my balance. My shoulder made a weird clicking noise (which hurt a lot, but what’s pain compared to the loss of machine 60). People nearby turned to look at me. I apologized profusely. And meanwhile, lost machine 60. Forever.
I picked up my bag. Walked over to machine 61. ‘Another guy’ and the girl had already stuck up a conversation. Lucky SOB. I booted machine 61, tried to log in, and got a big stupid windows error message. Tried to determine the cause of the problem (engineering instincts. Yes, we have that too) and lo’ behold. What do I find out? The network cable is missing. You’ve got to be kidding me. This day just keeps getting better and better.
This left me no option but to call the Resource Manager. Overpowering all my male ego (yes, we definitely have that), I called her up. No response. At this point of time, all I was wishing for was a desert eagle so that I could blow my brains out. But since that wasn’t about to happen, I thought I’d go and get a cup of coffee. Of course, since my access card for this floor is not working, I had to take the back door and walk about thrice the distance I normally would have walked to get the vending machine, which incidentally was out of coffee. But of course. What else did I expect? Drank a glass of lukewarm water and came back.
Tried calling the Resource manager again and this time got through. Was instructed to call up the admin guys. Ah. The dreaded admin guys. I could feel the knot tightening in my stomach. Called them up. No response. Called again after a while. The person responsible for replacing missing network cables was in a meeting. They actually have a person for that!! Jeez. Anyways, it was about 5:15 by this time and my patience was running out. So decided to call it a day.

grammer

2006-05-26T11:40:00.000+05:30

today is going to be a good day.
yes. it feels like today is going to be a good day.
i kept repeating this to myself as i left my flat. maybe one last try to convince my mind. one last try to be positive before the day finally begins. sat on my bike. started moving. looked at the road.
nope.

i don't think today is going to be a good day after all. i don't know if its going to be a bad day either. does it make a difference anyways?

why do we have to measure each day by its goodness? why can't a day just be a day? why can't we leave it alone to do the things that a day is supposed to do to you. why do we keep a mental diary where we make a tick mark against every "Good" day and at the end of a particular amount of time, if we have more ticks than blanks, we come to the conclusion that our life is good and that we are happy.

consider for a moment that our life is not supposed to be good or bad. we were just a bunch of atoms floating around till we were born. i was born into a conventional middle-class family. i could as easily have been born the son of the sultan of brunei. or the son of a homeless beggar. the point here is that there is no universal frame of reference to compare lives. no one chose to be born in a particular place. there is no universal observer who is observing the quality of our lives. it would have been a different thing if we had an idea of our previous lives - assuming the concept of "previous lives" exists.

but assuming that it exists, we would have had a frame of reference to measure the quality of our lives. with respect to our other lives that is.

so, wouldn't it be so much simpler if we just let go of the concept that our lives have to be either good or bad. that our days have to be happy or sad.

it seems to me that there are people who's life is punctuated by occasional "sad" days. your stereotypical "Happy" people (happy by whose standards i wonder??). and there are people whose life is punctuated by occasional "Happy" days. the stereotypical "Sad" people. and then there are people like me whose life failed in high school grammer. no punctuation marks. one endless sentence. one word after another. an occasional extra spacing between words here and there. An occasional use of proper Casing now and then. an endless stream of thoughts.

and i live on....

".... my life is brilliant,

my love is pure....."