I can travel whenever I want. I do not have to check up on programs or take permission or ask for my mother's credit card to pay for the tickets. I don't need to meet my parent's friends and smile and be polite, or feel guilty about calling the driver early.
I can go anywhere without thinking about potty schedules and PTA meetings and cricket matches and stage shows. Without worrying about buying a gift or gifts, or looking for that one gift article that offers my relatives a distinctive flavour of that region.
No diaper changes, No lamaze Classes, no obstetriticians, no gynaecologists, and definitely no paediatricians. No choices between blue and pink, and no allergens to take care of.
No pressure to own my own house, no reason to be a slave to an EMI. No chance of making a career compromise, and absolutely no reason to plan for any futures.
I can order chicken tandoori while watching the India-Australia Cricket match, and yell loudly if Sachin gets out without worrying about waking someone up. I can go drinking after work, and come home late.
I can wake up with a hangover and I can choose when to wake up. I can leave my bed unmade and I can choose what I eat and when I eat. I have the energy to flirt, and the energy to work.
I can sit in a coffeehouse at 11 AM and read the newspaper, while I idly sip a coffee and watch the world go by. I can take off on a vacation when I choose to and I can go off for a drive on a moment's notice.
I can stand in an airport queue holding my overnight strolley, watching the half balding bespectacled executive juggle 2 handbags, 1 stroller, 2 holdalls, 3 suitcases, 1 wife and a wailing baby while he feverishly searches for his passports, his tickets and his pen to fill out the immigration form. And I can smile indulgently.
I can do all this because I am eating the DINK Laadu. Although sometimes I wish my wife were eating it.
Saturday, October 09, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Taller than Trees
I like my home. Many many nice things have happened in our home. But before I tell you about the things that have happened in my house, let me tell you how it looks.
It's light, and bright, and has long windows down to there, and with nice open railings and a cozy balcony that runs the length of the house. It has a round bedroom and has a small window in a bedroom that is like a square porthole. It has
an atrium outside the master bathroom that has no floor and so it is a sheer drop down. But the grills are criss cross and they make funny sunlight patterns at 2 PM in the afternoon.
And the nice thing about my home are it's imperfections. Like you measure the depth of the alcove in the bedroom and buy furniture, but the curve wasnt uniform and so our hulking 4 door closet sits in the middle of our bedroom, rather than fitting neatly into the alcove.
Like the main door opens straight into the kitchen which is 2 parallel platforms, 2 alcoves, and a service door onto the balcony.
Like you can look and look but you will not find a power point on 2 walls of the living room. So good luck with placing your television, and your computer table, and your music system.
Like none of the ready made furniture you bought fits perfectly. Either the space shrank or the furniture grew 4 inches and everything juts out or is short by just those 2 inches to remind you that you are not the boss. The house is.
And since the home is on the eastern side of the 7th floor in a locality otherwise dotted with buildings less than 3 floors tall, we have certain privileges..
Like we have open views stretching till the Ghatkopar mountain on one side, Nhava Sheva Port on the second, the cloud-tipped BARC mountain on the third side, and RCF and Sewri on the fourth side.
Like we can see birds nesting in the trees, and we can see crows playing "King of the Roof" and we can see Parrots and Kingfishers, and Warblers, and Mynahs fighting and aimlessly roaming from rooftop to treetop to rooftop again.
Like we are insulated from most of the day to day affairs and from ground realities. No seriously. We only have to deal with them when we get out of the elevators :)
Like we can hear the wind whistle when the August cross winds whip up a heady portion of rain, thunder and lightning.
And when you stand in our circular balcony with the Sunlight filtering in at 4 PM with the breeze flowing across you from right to left, you stare across the christian graveyard, and the RBI quarters across to the BARC Mountain and you feel like you are on the bridge of a boat, rising and falling with every wave you encounter. And your knees bow instinctively, and your eyes close and you break out into a random smile...
Like It's just July 22nd and I have already seen 4 beautiful rainbows in a perfect arc - from Vashi to BARC :)
And a lot of nice things have happened after we have started living here..
Like we have found a nice maid who nags me like a Mother-in-Law, cooks up a storm in the kitchen, and has gotten me hooked onto the groundnut powder she makes.
Like my Father in Law now kicks butt at Street Racing on the iPod touch. and he is seriously contemplating writing a blog.
Like Tuesday evening dinners at Oro Cafe.
Like Saturday morning lazy Hazelnut mochas at barista, diamond garden.
Like late night movies at the mall.
Like the pestering crows who have nested in the coconut tree directly across from our living room balcony and now stalk me while they peer continuously into our home and caw irritatingly all day long (when it's not raining).
Like having miles and miles of Open Sky to look up at and being able to put your life's plans on hold.. for a few minutes at least.
Like not needing an Air Conditioner in the Summer.
Like late night carom games with my friend from the 3rd floor.
My home is on the 7th floor, and it has been christened "Taller than Trees".
It's light, and bright, and has long windows down to there, and with nice open railings and a cozy balcony that runs the length of the house. It has a round bedroom and has a small window in a bedroom that is like a square porthole. It has
an atrium outside the master bathroom that has no floor and so it is a sheer drop down. But the grills are criss cross and they make funny sunlight patterns at 2 PM in the afternoon.
And the nice thing about my home are it's imperfections. Like you measure the depth of the alcove in the bedroom and buy furniture, but the curve wasnt uniform and so our hulking 4 door closet sits in the middle of our bedroom, rather than fitting neatly into the alcove.
Like the main door opens straight into the kitchen which is 2 parallel platforms, 2 alcoves, and a service door onto the balcony.
Like you can look and look but you will not find a power point on 2 walls of the living room. So good luck with placing your television, and your computer table, and your music system.
Like none of the ready made furniture you bought fits perfectly. Either the space shrank or the furniture grew 4 inches and everything juts out or is short by just those 2 inches to remind you that you are not the boss. The house is.
And since the home is on the eastern side of the 7th floor in a locality otherwise dotted with buildings less than 3 floors tall, we have certain privileges..
Like we have open views stretching till the Ghatkopar mountain on one side, Nhava Sheva Port on the second, the cloud-tipped BARC mountain on the third side, and RCF and Sewri on the fourth side.
Like we can see birds nesting in the trees, and we can see crows playing "King of the Roof" and we can see Parrots and Kingfishers, and Warblers, and Mynahs fighting and aimlessly roaming from rooftop to treetop to rooftop again.
Like we are insulated from most of the day to day affairs and from ground realities. No seriously. We only have to deal with them when we get out of the elevators :)
Like we can hear the wind whistle when the August cross winds whip up a heady portion of rain, thunder and lightning.
And when you stand in our circular balcony with the Sunlight filtering in at 4 PM with the breeze flowing across you from right to left, you stare across the christian graveyard, and the RBI quarters across to the BARC Mountain and you feel like you are on the bridge of a boat, rising and falling with every wave you encounter. And your knees bow instinctively, and your eyes close and you break out into a random smile...
Like It's just July 22nd and I have already seen 4 beautiful rainbows in a perfect arc - from Vashi to BARC :)
And a lot of nice things have happened after we have started living here..
Like we have found a nice maid who nags me like a Mother-in-Law, cooks up a storm in the kitchen, and has gotten me hooked onto the groundnut powder she makes.
Like my Father in Law now kicks butt at Street Racing on the iPod touch. and he is seriously contemplating writing a blog.
Like Tuesday evening dinners at Oro Cafe.
Like Saturday morning lazy Hazelnut mochas at barista, diamond garden.
Like late night movies at the mall.
Like the pestering crows who have nested in the coconut tree directly across from our living room balcony and now stalk me while they peer continuously into our home and caw irritatingly all day long (when it's not raining).
Like having miles and miles of Open Sky to look up at and being able to put your life's plans on hold.. for a few minutes at least.
Like not needing an Air Conditioner in the Summer.
Like late night carom games with my friend from the 3rd floor.
My home is on the 7th floor, and it has been christened "Taller than Trees".
Monday, July 19, 2010
Energiser Bunny
And so at a client's office the other day, we ran into a Energies Consultant.
An amiable old gujju chap with a cap.
So he was talking with our client, and I happened to lean over my chair and smile politely at him. BIG mistake.
So he whipped out his book of souls, and turned his attention to me. "Haan beta, so what's your name?" "Pranay" "Poora naam batao bhai" "Pranay Srinivasan" "Achcha how old are you?" "31" "Date of Birth" "3rd February 1979"
All this while he's scribbling furiously in a foolscap notebook (probably not Sundaram Notebooks - ha!) and then suddenly he starts doing some awesomely complicated mental calculations to figure out which numbers are missing and which ones are not in my life.
I wanted to suggest that all I wanted was any 1 number with a lot of zeros at the end (without decimals, ofcourse) but he interrupted my benign dream with:
"Bahut spiritual hai; Ma Baap ka laadla hai; Pet ka problem hai (Stomach, not Dog); time pe khaana khaaneka; Paisa rehta nahin hai (SOB SOB); Bahut knowledge hai; doston ko paisa diya abhi tak vaapas nahin aaya; khud a paisa lagaake business karta hai" and as token confirmation he would merely look up at me with accusatory glances to check if I acknowledged his glances or not. A bemused smile covered my face as I leaned back a little in my chair.
"Achcha, shaadi ho gaya?" "Yes Sir" "Toh Biwi ka detail batao" So I told him... "Achcha Biwi ko gussa jaldi aata hai; bahut ziddi hai; knowledge achcha hai; biwi aane ke baad hi paisa aaya hai tere paas (I shrugged, "where is that money???" - Also DON'T TELL THE WIFE this); Pet ka problem hai (THE stomach, you DODOs, NOT THE DOG); time pe khaana khaaneka"
And then he asked for my business card... and he suggested changes. A lot of changes. He saw my signature and said that it looked like the signature of a confused man...
He then went on to talk about energies, about a sadhu who'd lived over 100 years without eating, about how Krishna lived for 356 years, about how Gandhiji and the British failed at talks because their conference was around a round table, about a 100 foot high pyramid in Bangalore, how the Aztecs learnt to build pyramids from us (No I'm just joking there), about how India had energies in the wrong places and how Kashmir has made India a headless chicken. And he promised that if we changed our energies around, it would be "A MIRACLE".
I was moved, I was impressed and I was deep in thought. So I accepted the proffered acupuncture hand squeezee thingy even though it hurt my palm like hell, and I focussed on fixing my bad energies...
I changed my signature, and I reprinted new cards; I started sleeping on the right side of the bed, and I hunting for square tables. I started worrying about where I sat, what I ate, and what direction my house pointed in. I started wearing blue on saturdays, and I chose colors that matched my element.
But all this took a lot of time, and I forgot to answer my customers, and I forgot to complete my paperwork, and I did not pay attention to my wife and I could not understand why I was unable to perform "A MIRACLE".
utekkare,
Pranay
An amiable old gujju chap with a cap.
So he was talking with our client, and I happened to lean over my chair and smile politely at him. BIG mistake.
So he whipped out his book of souls, and turned his attention to me. "Haan beta, so what's your name?" "Pranay" "Poora naam batao bhai" "Pranay Srinivasan" "Achcha how old are you?" "31" "Date of Birth" "3rd February 1979"
All this while he's scribbling furiously in a foolscap notebook (probably not Sundaram Notebooks - ha!) and then suddenly he starts doing some awesomely complicated mental calculations to figure out which numbers are missing and which ones are not in my life.
I wanted to suggest that all I wanted was any 1 number with a lot of zeros at the end (without decimals, ofcourse) but he interrupted my benign dream with:
"Bahut spiritual hai; Ma Baap ka laadla hai; Pet ka problem hai (Stomach, not Dog); time pe khaana khaaneka; Paisa rehta nahin hai (SOB SOB); Bahut knowledge hai; doston ko paisa diya abhi tak vaapas nahin aaya; khud a paisa lagaake business karta hai" and as token confirmation he would merely look up at me with accusatory glances to check if I acknowledged his glances or not. A bemused smile covered my face as I leaned back a little in my chair.
"Achcha, shaadi ho gaya?" "Yes Sir" "Toh Biwi ka detail batao" So I told him... "Achcha Biwi ko gussa jaldi aata hai; bahut ziddi hai; knowledge achcha hai; biwi aane ke baad hi paisa aaya hai tere paas (I shrugged, "where is that money???" - Also DON'T TELL THE WIFE this); Pet ka problem hai (THE stomach, you DODOs, NOT THE DOG); time pe khaana khaaneka"
And then he asked for my business card... and he suggested changes. A lot of changes. He saw my signature and said that it looked like the signature of a confused man...
He then went on to talk about energies, about a sadhu who'd lived over 100 years without eating, about how Krishna lived for 356 years, about how Gandhiji and the British failed at talks because their conference was around a round table, about a 100 foot high pyramid in Bangalore, how the Aztecs learnt to build pyramids from us (No I'm just joking there), about how India had energies in the wrong places and how Kashmir has made India a headless chicken. And he promised that if we changed our energies around, it would be "A MIRACLE".
I was moved, I was impressed and I was deep in thought. So I accepted the proffered acupuncture hand squeezee thingy even though it hurt my palm like hell, and I focussed on fixing my bad energies...
I changed my signature, and I reprinted new cards; I started sleeping on the right side of the bed, and I hunting for square tables. I started worrying about where I sat, what I ate, and what direction my house pointed in. I started wearing blue on saturdays, and I chose colors that matched my element.
But all this took a lot of time, and I forgot to answer my customers, and I forgot to complete my paperwork, and I did not pay attention to my wife and I could not understand why I was unable to perform "A MIRACLE".
utekkare,
Pranay
Sunday, July 18, 2010
How thoughtless of Me
And so today, under the unrelenting pressure exerted on me, I yield the stage to my friend, my counterpart, my alter-ego - the Boss's Son.
I have built my world and broken it down. Countless times. I have built my business, and earned my profits year after year. I have created financial models and I have fantasised about my life in the years ahead. I am a victim of my own ambition. I feel sand on my eyelids, and weights on my legs. I am sagging at my waist, and receding at my temples.
I broke the chain that held me and bit the hand that fed me for the curses and pain were unbearable. I have journeyed through the night, and above the clouds towards the glowing sun. I travel by plane and transit through airports. I love my life and I love my wife.
I travel ceaselessly, and I nurture and grow this tiny seed of a trade I have plied for close to half a year. With my visions blurring my sight, I set out to conquer the world.
I am master of my own destiny. And I am a slave to my own path.
I have lived on a beach and I have run on a beach with my children. I have swum the 7 oceans and I partake of the world's cuisines. My words linger with the masses I address and my generosity dwarfs my ruthlessness. I have seen all this and much much more.
I smote down all my avarice and I have lit up my beacon of hope. I know not the pain of the underachiever. There isn't that luxury to enjoy anymore.
My legs are tired, my hands are weak. My shoulders ache, and my voice is low. But my brain is shivering and my nerves are jangling. And my unceasing fingers exhort the treadmill of life to run faster. and faster. and faster.
I cannot predict what the future holds. But I have judged myself already. I am a marked man. In the sights of myself. I am the sniper and I am the mark. I pin myself under the weight of my own ideas and thoughts. For it is inevitable that I will succeed. It is untenable that my thoughts are unworthy of fruition.
I long for a warm blanket and a cold compress. For a soothing wave of blank darkness to envelop me completely as I await the cold harsh reality of tomorrow. But I am denied this every night. For uncaring to my choices, my brain processes thought.
And so I dream.
utekkare,
Pranay
I have built my world and broken it down. Countless times. I have built my business, and earned my profits year after year. I have created financial models and I have fantasised about my life in the years ahead. I am a victim of my own ambition. I feel sand on my eyelids, and weights on my legs. I am sagging at my waist, and receding at my temples.
I broke the chain that held me and bit the hand that fed me for the curses and pain were unbearable. I have journeyed through the night, and above the clouds towards the glowing sun. I travel by plane and transit through airports. I love my life and I love my wife.
I travel ceaselessly, and I nurture and grow this tiny seed of a trade I have plied for close to half a year. With my visions blurring my sight, I set out to conquer the world.
I am master of my own destiny. And I am a slave to my own path.
I have lived on a beach and I have run on a beach with my children. I have swum the 7 oceans and I partake of the world's cuisines. My words linger with the masses I address and my generosity dwarfs my ruthlessness. I have seen all this and much much more.
I smote down all my avarice and I have lit up my beacon of hope. I know not the pain of the underachiever. There isn't that luxury to enjoy anymore.
My legs are tired, my hands are weak. My shoulders ache, and my voice is low. But my brain is shivering and my nerves are jangling. And my unceasing fingers exhort the treadmill of life to run faster. and faster. and faster.
I cannot predict what the future holds. But I have judged myself already. I am a marked man. In the sights of myself. I am the sniper and I am the mark. I pin myself under the weight of my own ideas and thoughts. For it is inevitable that I will succeed. It is untenable that my thoughts are unworthy of fruition.
I long for a warm blanket and a cold compress. For a soothing wave of blank darkness to envelop me completely as I await the cold harsh reality of tomorrow. But I am denied this every night. For uncaring to my choices, my brain processes thought.
And so I dream.
utekkare,
Pranay
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Zen and the Entrepreneur's guide to Investor-gyaan
In his recent quest to start up my retail venture, The boss's son has been knocking on investors' doors for about 8 months now, and the false promises, and the high hopes and their super-flatulous gyaan is now clogging my senses and blurring my vision.
When we met the co-ordinator for a famous "Angel" Investing Network recently, he heard us out, and nodded his head quite wisely. He then proceeded to trash the industry we were in, and made pointed but casual references to the "big" deals he was brokering (or as he put it, 'mentoring').
So amidst his advice to take a super-large view of the industry (in his words, from 30,000 feet above sea level) and his warm offers for advice on taking on other investors if I found them, and the fact that "Your business plan is great, your attitude is good, you have all the blocks in place, but you dont have a long term cutting-edge in the industry. Yes you'll make profits but there's nothing innovative about this business plan..", I forgot that Investors fund fancy innovations that sit on their mantelpiece, they just dont care about a 5X return in 4 years now...
He then advised us to make a business plan, and an excel projection of a quarter-by-quarter analysis of the next 3 years!!! with the ways the money (if he funded me) would be spent, where it would be spent, and what the business growth and sales would be like!!! I felt like telling him that if I was THAT good at crystal ball gazing I would be Baba Pranay-Nath not simple Pranay Srinivasan!!!
Thats when I politely pointed out to him that his association could no longer be called an "Angel" investment network since their due diligence extends into years, not weeks, and angel investors are people who invest small amounts of money on gut-feel and an instinct for the entrepreneur to start up their business. He gravely nodded his head and said, "Yes, I know, We at XYZ Angels are very distressed by this turn of events.. We only invest now in mid-level and running organisations."
I wanted to drop a 5 rupee note in his outbox for the tea he offered me and which I politely declined, and tell him that if he didnt have the money, he could have told me at the outset.
utekkare,
Pranay
When we met the co-ordinator for a famous "Angel" Investing Network recently, he heard us out, and nodded his head quite wisely. He then proceeded to trash the industry we were in, and made pointed but casual references to the "big" deals he was brokering (or as he put it, 'mentoring').
So amidst his advice to take a super-large view of the industry (in his words, from 30,000 feet above sea level) and his warm offers for advice on taking on other investors if I found them, and the fact that "Your business plan is great, your attitude is good, you have all the blocks in place, but you dont have a long term cutting-edge in the industry. Yes you'll make profits but there's nothing innovative about this business plan..", I forgot that Investors fund fancy innovations that sit on their mantelpiece, they just dont care about a 5X return in 4 years now...
He then advised us to make a business plan, and an excel projection of a quarter-by-quarter analysis of the next 3 years!!! with the ways the money (if he funded me) would be spent, where it would be spent, and what the business growth and sales would be like!!! I felt like telling him that if I was THAT good at crystal ball gazing I would be Baba Pranay-Nath not simple Pranay Srinivasan!!!
Thats when I politely pointed out to him that his association could no longer be called an "Angel" investment network since their due diligence extends into years, not weeks, and angel investors are people who invest small amounts of money on gut-feel and an instinct for the entrepreneur to start up their business. He gravely nodded his head and said, "Yes, I know, We at XYZ Angels are very distressed by this turn of events.. We only invest now in mid-level and running organisations."
I wanted to drop a 5 rupee note in his outbox for the tea he offered me and which I politely declined, and tell him that if he didnt have the money, he could have told me at the outset.
utekkare,
Pranay
Travelling Observations
And so a few observations, local and national..
Like 10 Rupees is the new 2 Rupees on local trains. I have borne witness to the super-charming 2nd class travelling salesmen selling passport covers, plastic pouches, ayurvedic tooth-manjan, chinese ball pens (4 for 10 rupees!!), combs, wallets, and keychains for this magical sum, which currently does not even buy us the minimum Rickshaw fare anymore.
Like everyone is now using backpacks to travel to work. Gone are the pudgy briefcases, those Samsonite and VIP Black and Silver briefcases that held the promise of bundles of 100 rupee notes inside them, but when opened, revealed a comb, a lunch dabba, a hand towel, 2-3 newspapers, and a picture of god. Earphones, MP3 players, "DELL" backpacks that hold the promise of a super-cute gleaming chrome and black laptop computer, but when opened, reveal a comb, a lunch dabba, a hand towel, 2-3 newspapers and a picture of Bipasha Basu / Katrina Kaif / current presiding heroine. Yes, our gods have morphed into Bollywood goddesses.
Like Coimbatore Airport is now gleaming and all shiney. Like Surat actually has an airport where a flight can land from Delhi. Like Tirupur is now a district all on it's own. And you can now travel to Erode on a spanking new expressway without worrying about trucks running into you.
And some of the most interesting people I have met are while I'm travelling.
Like an Excise Collector in Vapi.. or the CEO of a Solar Energy company... or a travelling magician.. or the owner of one of India's oldest diamond companies..
And now my life will be a tale of small(er) cities - Amritsar, Surat, Rajkot, Jodhpur, Jaipur, Coimbatore, Erode, Salem, Tirupur, Ludhiana, Ooty....
And there is much to learn in these cities.. And much more to observe..
utekkare,
Pranay
Like 10 Rupees is the new 2 Rupees on local trains. I have borne witness to the super-charming 2nd class travelling salesmen selling passport covers, plastic pouches, ayurvedic tooth-manjan, chinese ball pens (4 for 10 rupees!!), combs, wallets, and keychains for this magical sum, which currently does not even buy us the minimum Rickshaw fare anymore.
Like everyone is now using backpacks to travel to work. Gone are the pudgy briefcases, those Samsonite and VIP Black and Silver briefcases that held the promise of bundles of 100 rupee notes inside them, but when opened, revealed a comb, a lunch dabba, a hand towel, 2-3 newspapers, and a picture of god. Earphones, MP3 players, "DELL" backpacks that hold the promise of a super-cute gleaming chrome and black laptop computer, but when opened, reveal a comb, a lunch dabba, a hand towel, 2-3 newspapers and a picture of Bipasha Basu / Katrina Kaif / current presiding heroine. Yes, our gods have morphed into Bollywood goddesses.
Like Coimbatore Airport is now gleaming and all shiney. Like Surat actually has an airport where a flight can land from Delhi. Like Tirupur is now a district all on it's own. And you can now travel to Erode on a spanking new expressway without worrying about trucks running into you.
And some of the most interesting people I have met are while I'm travelling.
Like an Excise Collector in Vapi.. or the CEO of a Solar Energy company... or a travelling magician.. or the owner of one of India's oldest diamond companies..
And now my life will be a tale of small(er) cities - Amritsar, Surat, Rajkot, Jodhpur, Jaipur, Coimbatore, Erode, Salem, Tirupur, Ludhiana, Ooty....
And there is much to learn in these cities.. And much more to observe..
utekkare,
Pranay
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Dream a Little Dream
And I have been away. Yes, for a long long long time. In really short-time world, that is.
In the real world, 6 months is nothing. But I've been away for longer than that. I've been helping the boss's son fight his battles. What is a poet doing on the battlefield, you might ask? Well, you see I'm a Darwinian. And rather than lie down and play dead, I figured it just might be fun to live out your dreams, rather than fold them up in frost-bitten wrapping paper and put them away in an attic.
We confronted our dragons. We chased our unicorns. We killed our elephant and we laid it to rest forever. We went on a crusade. We smote down dastardly thoughts and we fought the world without armour. We forged nerves of steel and we built our bastions around our humble positions.
We rallied the support of our inner circles. We honoured our dead and we upheld our values. We chose to be noble and we were inspired to be brave. We brokered a truce when a friendly hand was extended to us. We found happiness in our pumpkin patch and we tend to it with all the care that we can. And so We honoured our commitments and we never sullied our image. We gave back in greater proportions than we took. We never hesitated when blood was asked of our people. We shed tears and we displayed a united front. When the truce was broken and the faith was destroyed, we chose to walk away with humility.
And so first we pursued the mythical creatures - the chosen ones. We tried to gain the appreciation of the "compassionate" investor. This term, I fear is actually A misnomer, a tragicomedy of the wildest proportions. Before the demi-gods of today - they have conferred that title upon themselves by virtue of the pomposity emanating from their material possessions; a fraction of which they may bestow upon such exalted beings whose requests for fulfillment they may look upon with benevolence and compassion. They who inhabit single cabins within larger offices from whose mouth was born clutching a silver spoon; They who spent an eon glaring at a dull glowing screen from They who have become the rulers of the haves, and who implore the penniless to eat cake when bread is scarce.
And we pursued those "great ones". In their gleaming chariots, and their bright new places of work, we pursued them with bright eyes and a tightened belt, longing to be the chosen one who were able to realise the golden dreams of our life.
And we dreamt our dreams. Of living in alien rooms in foreign cities and becoming a denizen of HER world. we looked in from the display pane and we longed to be a customer. A valued customer in her brothel. We painted and preened and polished ourselves. We smiled coyly, and we glanced at them with intent. At first she showed us interest, she accepted our applications and she lovingly let us touch her skin. "Come visit me", she seemed to say, without a single lip movement. We submitted our claims, and we requested our slots from the pimps who grinned subserviently at first, and connivingly at last. We offered them our life, we offered them our minds. We bared open our deepest thoughts and our darkest desires for but a short romance with HER. We were not alone. We joined the line of suitors as they turned out in their Sunday Best.
Alas, we turned up one day and the brothel was shut and the investor had flown away. All that remained was a note on the wall that began with the words, "We regret to inform you..." We wept and wept. We drowned our sorrows in silence. Our world was at an end. Our hopes had been dashed. Cruel words and evil thoughts touched our lips and graced our mind.
But then we walked onto an open plain. And we stared up at the sky. We begged to be struck down by lightening, but we were asked by a grizzled old stranger to dig instead. So we dug and dug and dug. And lo and behold! We found a silver coin. We We chose our trade carefully and we forged new alliances. We unsheathed our skills and we re-examined our forte. And so we bartered. And we traded. And we have chosen to ride our silver coin, and ascend into the celestial heavens upon our silver steed.
Not for us, the ties of blood. Not for us, the spires of education. Not for us, the clinking of money bags. Not for us, the lucre of the quick fix.
For us, the heat of sweat and toil. For us, the daily run-about. For us, the dreams of being self-made and proud. For us, the dream of penning down our thoughts. For us, the dream of leading more young ambitious, yearning minds akin to the mind we used to be.
And we did not chose our path. Our path has chosen us.
Yes I have been away a long time. I was away meeting myself.
In the real world, 6 months is nothing. But I've been away for longer than that. I've been helping the boss's son fight his battles. What is a poet doing on the battlefield, you might ask? Well, you see I'm a Darwinian. And rather than lie down and play dead, I figured it just might be fun to live out your dreams, rather than fold them up in frost-bitten wrapping paper and put them away in an attic.
We confronted our dragons. We chased our unicorns. We killed our elephant and we laid it to rest forever. We went on a crusade. We smote down dastardly thoughts and we fought the world without armour. We forged nerves of steel and we built our bastions around our humble positions.
We rallied the support of our inner circles. We honoured our dead and we upheld our values. We chose to be noble and we were inspired to be brave. We brokered a truce when a friendly hand was extended to us. We found happiness in our pumpkin patch and we tend to it with all the care that we can. And so We honoured our commitments and we never sullied our image. We gave back in greater proportions than we took. We never hesitated when blood was asked of our people. We shed tears and we displayed a united front. When the truce was broken and the faith was destroyed, we chose to walk away with humility.
And so first we pursued the mythical creatures - the chosen ones. We tried to gain the appreciation of the "compassionate" investor. This term, I fear is actually A misnomer, a tragicomedy of the wildest proportions. Before the demi-gods of today - they have conferred that title upon themselves by virtue of the pomposity emanating from their material possessions; a fraction of which they may bestow upon such exalted beings whose requests for fulfillment they may look upon with benevolence and compassion. They who inhabit single cabins within larger offices from whose mouth was born clutching a silver spoon; They who spent an eon glaring at a dull glowing screen from They who have become the rulers of the haves, and who implore the penniless to eat cake when bread is scarce.
And we pursued those "great ones". In their gleaming chariots, and their bright new places of work, we pursued them with bright eyes and a tightened belt, longing to be the chosen one who were able to realise the golden dreams of our life.
And we dreamt our dreams. Of living in alien rooms in foreign cities and becoming a denizen of HER world. we looked in from the display pane and we longed to be a customer. A valued customer in her brothel. We painted and preened and polished ourselves. We smiled coyly, and we glanced at them with intent. At first she showed us interest, she accepted our applications and she lovingly let us touch her skin. "Come visit me", she seemed to say, without a single lip movement. We submitted our claims, and we requested our slots from the pimps who grinned subserviently at first, and connivingly at last. We offered them our life, we offered them our minds. We bared open our deepest thoughts and our darkest desires for but a short romance with HER. We were not alone. We joined the line of suitors as they turned out in their Sunday Best.
Alas, we turned up one day and the brothel was shut and the investor had flown away. All that remained was a note on the wall that began with the words, "We regret to inform you..." We wept and wept. We drowned our sorrows in silence. Our world was at an end. Our hopes had been dashed. Cruel words and evil thoughts touched our lips and graced our mind.
But then we walked onto an open plain. And we stared up at the sky. We begged to be struck down by lightening, but we were asked by a grizzled old stranger to dig instead. So we dug and dug and dug. And lo and behold! We found a silver coin. We We chose our trade carefully and we forged new alliances. We unsheathed our skills and we re-examined our forte. And so we bartered. And we traded. And we have chosen to ride our silver coin, and ascend into the celestial heavens upon our silver steed.
Not for us, the ties of blood. Not for us, the spires of education. Not for us, the clinking of money bags. Not for us, the lucre of the quick fix.
For us, the heat of sweat and toil. For us, the daily run-about. For us, the dreams of being self-made and proud. For us, the dream of penning down our thoughts. For us, the dream of leading more young ambitious, yearning minds akin to the mind we used to be.
And we did not chose our path. Our path has chosen us.
Yes I have been away a long time. I was away meeting myself.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
"It Depends" and what it really means...
So this MBA Aspirant calls up this freshly minted MBA Graduate he used to work with. They used to be close friends, and Mr Aspirant wants some pointers on whether he should do an MBA...
Aspirant: Boss, MBA kiya, how's it going man? Any good placement offers? Jump in salary?
Grad: It's going well. I've got 2 offers - evaluating them. The package is being negotiated.
[Read: Saala, 2 offer mila. Ek 8 lakh ka - Selling Soap. Ek 10 lakh ka - Selling Insurance. One's in Varanasi, and One's in Daryaganj. Fascinating, No?]
Aspirant: But it's been over 2 months since you graduated yaar. Still no decisions?
Grad: These are important decisions that should not be rushed.
[Read: I have no more choice in these matters. I have an frikking education loan to pay!!!]
Aspirant: Cool cool. Boss, I'm thinking of doing an MBA. What do you think?
Grad: Great yaar! It's probably the best investment of your life, yaar.
[Read: HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA.... SUCKER!!!!!!]
Aspirant: So how is the BSB you attended? Awesome campus maan....
Grad: Yes, I'm very happy with BSB.. Its a once-in-a-lifetime experience
[Read: Like marriage, once you're in, you're stuck with it.....]
Aspirant: Boss, what do you think of my chances yaar. Do I need more Work Ex?
Grad: It depends on how you present your case.
[Read: Saale buddhe, ek hi company mein 7 saal se kaam kar raha hai. Computer toh bechna aata nahin, Sabun kaise bechega???]
Aspirant: Boss, what should my GMAT be?
Grad: There is no upper or lower limit.
[Read: You RETARD, 800 is where the debate ends!]
Aspirant: Boss, Whom should I get my reccos from? They're really confidential, no?
Grad: Get them from someone who knows you well. Make sure you adhere to the code of conduct.
[Read: Such an idiot. I wrote my own reccos and then invited my boss over for dinner when I submitted them.]
Aspirant: What about the essays? I cannot think of material to work on.
Grad: You need to introspect on your life and what makes you special. Interests, life experiences, anything that you can showcase on your app.
[Read: Anything you write can, and will be used against you in a court of Law.]
Aspirant: Dude, whats the college like? Gimme some gyaan I can write specifically about this college.
Grad: Well, BSB emphasises on teamwork, working in diverse groups, understanding global networks, and using the platform to network effectively. It's a great learning experience as well.
[Read: You're on your own, your team members are from UP, Kerala, and Bangalore, You're treated like shit by exchange students, and if you don't beg with alumni, you wont get even a reply, let alone an interview. Oh and my grades were in the bottom 15% of the class.]
Aspirant: Boss, I just want to make money and get a good job so I can get married, and settle abroad. I also want to get into a job that is glamourous. Is this OK to write in the essays?
Grad: Your life goals are a deeply personal matter. But your main aim must be your professional growth. Concentrating on financial and/or material gains should not be your primary focus.
[Read: You dufus, you think I came here for the trees and the stones???]
Aspirant: Dude, what do you think of My Extra Curricular Activities? Do you think I should join a Social Service League?
Grad: Social Service should not be done just to put it on your resume. You should be deeply involved in what you do..
[Read: I quite liked my own story: I cleaned blind men's shit for 6 months, and then told the Adcom that my maternal uncle's brother-in-law's driver's son had blinded himself during Diwali. This moved me to helping other blind men cross the road. I also think that firecrackers should be banned. Wah Wah Wah!]
Aspirant: What do you think of my chances, maan?
Grad: I think you have a really strong case. But its important to write a strong application and communicate your strengths well.
[Read: Flip a coin, dude. FLIP A COIN.]
3 months and a lot of chewed fingernails later...
Aspirant: Dude, I got DINGED. They interviewed me and then DINGED me!
Grad: I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe you should study your goals more closely and re-apply. This is not a personal judgement on your profile. It just shows how strong the applicant pool was this year..
[Read: YOU STUPID LOSER. Thank god I'm still the only one who got an admit. Go back to selling hardware at Lamington Road. DO not even THINK that you are good enough to get in here, unless you use a fancy essay consultant and you learn to game the system. UNDERSTAND???]
Aspirant: Boss, MBA kiya, how's it going man? Any good placement offers? Jump in salary?
Grad: It's going well. I've got 2 offers - evaluating them. The package is being negotiated.
[Read: Saala, 2 offer mila. Ek 8 lakh ka - Selling Soap. Ek 10 lakh ka - Selling Insurance. One's in Varanasi, and One's in Daryaganj. Fascinating, No?]
Aspirant: But it's been over 2 months since you graduated yaar. Still no decisions?
Grad: These are important decisions that should not be rushed.
[Read: I have no more choice in these matters. I have an frikking education loan to pay!!!]
Aspirant: Cool cool. Boss, I'm thinking of doing an MBA. What do you think?
Grad: Great yaar! It's probably the best investment of your life, yaar.
[Read: HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA.... SUCKER!!!!!!]
Aspirant: So how is the BSB you attended? Awesome campus maan....
Grad: Yes, I'm very happy with BSB.. Its a once-in-a-lifetime experience
[Read: Like marriage, once you're in, you're stuck with it.....]
Aspirant: Boss, what do you think of my chances yaar. Do I need more Work Ex?
Grad: It depends on how you present your case.
[Read: Saale buddhe, ek hi company mein 7 saal se kaam kar raha hai. Computer toh bechna aata nahin, Sabun kaise bechega???]
Aspirant: Boss, what should my GMAT be?
Grad: There is no upper or lower limit.
[Read: You RETARD, 800 is where the debate ends!]
Aspirant: Boss, Whom should I get my reccos from? They're really confidential, no?
Grad: Get them from someone who knows you well. Make sure you adhere to the code of conduct.
[Read: Such an idiot. I wrote my own reccos and then invited my boss over for dinner when I submitted them.]
Aspirant: What about the essays? I cannot think of material to work on.
Grad: You need to introspect on your life and what makes you special. Interests, life experiences, anything that you can showcase on your app.
[Read: Anything you write can, and will be used against you in a court of Law.]
Aspirant: Dude, whats the college like? Gimme some gyaan I can write specifically about this college.
Grad: Well, BSB emphasises on teamwork, working in diverse groups, understanding global networks, and using the platform to network effectively. It's a great learning experience as well.
[Read: You're on your own, your team members are from UP, Kerala, and Bangalore, You're treated like shit by exchange students, and if you don't beg with alumni, you wont get even a reply, let alone an interview. Oh and my grades were in the bottom 15% of the class.]
Aspirant: Boss, I just want to make money and get a good job so I can get married, and settle abroad. I also want to get into a job that is glamourous. Is this OK to write in the essays?
Grad: Your life goals are a deeply personal matter. But your main aim must be your professional growth. Concentrating on financial and/or material gains should not be your primary focus.
[Read: You dufus, you think I came here for the trees and the stones???]
Aspirant: Dude, what do you think of My Extra Curricular Activities? Do you think I should join a Social Service League?
Grad: Social Service should not be done just to put it on your resume. You should be deeply involved in what you do..
[Read: I quite liked my own story: I cleaned blind men's shit for 6 months, and then told the Adcom that my maternal uncle's brother-in-law's driver's son had blinded himself during Diwali. This moved me to helping other blind men cross the road. I also think that firecrackers should be banned. Wah Wah Wah!]
Aspirant: What do you think of my chances, maan?
Grad: I think you have a really strong case. But its important to write a strong application and communicate your strengths well.
[Read: Flip a coin, dude. FLIP A COIN.]
3 months and a lot of chewed fingernails later...
Aspirant: Dude, I got DINGED. They interviewed me and then DINGED me!
Grad: I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe you should study your goals more closely and re-apply. This is not a personal judgement on your profile. It just shows how strong the applicant pool was this year..
[Read: YOU STUPID LOSER. Thank god I'm still the only one who got an admit. Go back to selling hardware at Lamington Road. DO not even THINK that you are good enough to get in here, unless you use a fancy essay consultant and you learn to game the system. UNDERSTAND???]
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Gabbar Singh in Mumbai
INT. NEWS STUDIO – DAY
A News Anchor is looking into the camera.
NEWS ANCHOR
Aaj hum baat karne wale hain Gabbar Singh se.
NEWS ANCHOR
Haan toh Gabbarji, Aap Mumbai mein kaise?
GABBAR SINGH
Sholay film ke success ke baad mere sab daaku-on ko film star banne ki chaahas lag gayi. Kaalia jaake Marathi film karne laga, Sambha ne idhar Hindi filmon mein villain ka role kiya, aur Viru ne bhi Basanti se shaadi kar liya.
Ramgarh mein IT revolution ho gaya. Sab log khet chhodkar IT aur Real Estate mein busy ho gaye. Baju ke gaon mein SEZ aa gaya toh sab gaon walon ne apni apni zameen karodon ke bhaav mein bechkar idhar aa gaye.
Thakur ne USA jaakar apne haat theek karwa liye. Radha ne Jaidev se shaadi kar liya.
Toh main akela daaku kya karta. Mumbai aa gaya kaam dhoondne.
NEWS ANCHOR
Toh aapka ghoda aur pistaul kahaan hai?
GABBAR
Pistaul toh main Police headquarters mein chhodke aaya hoon. Aur mera ghoda aaj kal maine Salman Khan ko de diya hai – Usko ghod-savaari ka bahut shauk hai. Veer-ta mein No.1 hai Sallu beta.
NEWS ANCHOR
Aap ko kaisa kaam chahiye?
GABBAR
Mujhe politics mein ghusna hai. Suna hai aaj kal Samajwadi party mein vacancy hai.
NEWS ANCHOR
Aapko lagta hai aapko ticket mil jaayega?
GABBAR
Haan mil jaayega. Mulayam ka bhai mere hi jail mein tha. Achchi dosti ban gayi.
NEWS ANCHOR
Toh yeh they Gabbar Singh. Aaj retired daaku, Kal honge Samajwadi Party ke naye General Secretary!
NAMASHKAR.
A News Anchor is looking into the camera.
NEWS ANCHOR
Aaj hum baat karne wale hain Gabbar Singh se.
NEWS ANCHOR
Haan toh Gabbarji, Aap Mumbai mein kaise?
GABBAR SINGH
Sholay film ke success ke baad mere sab daaku-on ko film star banne ki chaahas lag gayi. Kaalia jaake Marathi film karne laga, Sambha ne idhar Hindi filmon mein villain ka role kiya, aur Viru ne bhi Basanti se shaadi kar liya.
Ramgarh mein IT revolution ho gaya. Sab log khet chhodkar IT aur Real Estate mein busy ho gaye. Baju ke gaon mein SEZ aa gaya toh sab gaon walon ne apni apni zameen karodon ke bhaav mein bechkar idhar aa gaye.
Thakur ne USA jaakar apne haat theek karwa liye. Radha ne Jaidev se shaadi kar liya.
Toh main akela daaku kya karta. Mumbai aa gaya kaam dhoondne.
NEWS ANCHOR
Toh aapka ghoda aur pistaul kahaan hai?
GABBAR
Pistaul toh main Police headquarters mein chhodke aaya hoon. Aur mera ghoda aaj kal maine Salman Khan ko de diya hai – Usko ghod-savaari ka bahut shauk hai. Veer-ta mein No.1 hai Sallu beta.
NEWS ANCHOR
Aap ko kaisa kaam chahiye?
GABBAR
Mujhe politics mein ghusna hai. Suna hai aaj kal Samajwadi party mein vacancy hai.
NEWS ANCHOR
Aapko lagta hai aapko ticket mil jaayega?
GABBAR
Haan mil jaayega. Mulayam ka bhai mere hi jail mein tha. Achchi dosti ban gayi.
NEWS ANCHOR
Toh yeh they Gabbar Singh. Aaj retired daaku, Kal honge Samajwadi Party ke naye General Secretary!
NAMASHKAR.
Monday, February 01, 2010
Report Card
And so about a dozen days ago, the Boss's Son received his report card.
Physics: 42 / 100 (You coulda been a contender....)
Biology: 63 / 100 (First Class. No More, No Less.)
Calculus: 10 / 100 (Can't earn, Cannot Count, Can Definitely Spend!)
Chemistry: 55 / 100 (And the ratings continue to slip from their lofty perch of 100%...)
Geometry: 30/ 100 (What goes round.... Comes in 3 shapes - round, oval, and globular.)
Algebra: 52 / 100 (The equations are changing)
History: 25 / 100 (When Rome burnt, I wept... When your father weeps, I....)
Geography: 5/ 100 (French Windows, a Higher Floor, A Garbage dump, a graveyard...)
P.T.: Fail.
IQ: Fail
Interpersonal Skils: Fail
Ambition: Pass
Achievement: Fail
Result: Condoned and Promoted to Year 2 of a Wonderful Marriage.
Physics: 42 / 100 (You coulda been a contender....)
Biology: 63 / 100 (First Class. No More, No Less.)
Calculus: 10 / 100 (Can't earn, Cannot Count, Can Definitely Spend!)
Chemistry: 55 / 100 (And the ratings continue to slip from their lofty perch of 100%...)
Geometry: 30/ 100 (What goes round.... Comes in 3 shapes - round, oval, and globular.)
Algebra: 52 / 100 (The equations are changing)
History: 25 / 100 (When Rome burnt, I wept... When your father weeps, I....)
Geography: 5/ 100 (French Windows, a Higher Floor, A Garbage dump, a graveyard...)
P.T.: Fail.
IQ: Fail
Interpersonal Skils: Fail
Ambition: Pass
Achievement: Fail
Result: Condoned and Promoted to Year 2 of a Wonderful Marriage.
Monday, January 11, 2010
GOLDen Opportunity
Hi All,
I had an ISB interview yesterday.
When I waked in, they were busy counting money manually. In 100 dollar bills. They were all wearing suits. All six of them. Black Suits with White Shirts and Black Ties.
Mr Pink asks me: Why do you want to go to ISB?
Me: There is gold there sir. GOLD!
Mr White: Where is the GOLD? We dont know about this. We wuz there 2 days ago.
Me: Why you think Telangana want Hyderabad!! there is GOLD there!
Mr Aquamarine
Sorry readers, This is my Reservoir, I choose the colors!)
So...
Mr Aquamarine: So What are your Plans after ISB?
Me: Las Vegas or Bust!
Mr Pink: Bust? Whose Bust? That marble one in the foyer? Thats worth nothing.
Me: No sir,
Mr White interjects: Shut up! Spoke when spoken to! Mr Pink stated, not questioned!
Me: Sorry sir, I thought this was a relaxed interview. Not a stress interview.
Mr Yellow: This boy is useless. He thinks this is a stress interview, when even I know that this is an ISB interview.
Mr Orange: So boy, Why ISB?
Me (exasperatedly): BECAUSE THERE IS GOLD THERE!!!!
Mr White: Alright fine, where is this GOLD you speak of?!?!? Near the CAS? Or in the Lake? Or near the Tennis Courts?
Me: (Silent)
Mr Red: You, boy. If there is GOLD in ISB, why didnt we find it?
Me: *sniggers* No comment sir, on grounds it may incriminate me.
Mr Aquamarine: Why should we recommend you to ISB? (Furiously counting notes).
Me: Because I am the best GOLD-DIGGER in the world, sir.
Mr White: (thumps the desk suddenly) ENOUGH! Answer this. If the world was square, and the diagonal passed through New Delhi, would Mumbai be on the Equator?
Me: If the world was square, all the animals in North America would do the Macarena, and the Rubiks Cube would be obsolete!
Mr Aquamarine: If Telangana is formed, will the Ganges be merged with Infosys?
Me: If Telangana is formed, The Western Ghats will be merged with Madhya Pradesh.
Mr Pink: Sing a song for us
Me: Oh when the saints... Oh when the saints come marching in.. I'll be standing in my undies... When the saints come marching in...
Mr Yellow: What if you do not find GOLD in ISB?
Me: Sir, I will become a deep sea diver who plays music on the radio.
Mr Red: Ok son, any questions for us.
Me: Sir, why are you counting Money and what is that Money for?
Mr Orange: Good Question! This is the next bailout that Obama wants to administer to the US Economy. He wants us to count before he announces it. We are charging him an hourly rate and we insisted that they be delivered in 100 dollar bills so we could maximise our rates.
I got up to shake their hands. Suddenly I found myself stretching my hand out and grabbing a pile of the currency and running. On my way out, I turned and screamed, "Just in case, Sir. Dollars in hand is worth GOLD in the bush, sir!"
And then I woke up and wrote this post.
utekkare,
Pranay
I had an ISB interview yesterday.
When I waked in, they were busy counting money manually. In 100 dollar bills. They were all wearing suits. All six of them. Black Suits with White Shirts and Black Ties.
Mr Pink asks me: Why do you want to go to ISB?
Me: There is gold there sir. GOLD!
Mr White: Where is the GOLD? We dont know about this. We wuz there 2 days ago.
Me: Why you think Telangana want Hyderabad!! there is GOLD there!
Mr Aquamarine
Sorry readers, This is my Reservoir, I choose the colors!)
So...
Mr Aquamarine: So What are your Plans after ISB?
Me: Las Vegas or Bust!
Mr Pink: Bust? Whose Bust? That marble one in the foyer? Thats worth nothing.
Me: No sir,
Mr White interjects: Shut up! Spoke when spoken to! Mr Pink stated, not questioned!
Me: Sorry sir, I thought this was a relaxed interview. Not a stress interview.
Mr Yellow: This boy is useless. He thinks this is a stress interview, when even I know that this is an ISB interview.
Mr Orange: So boy, Why ISB?
Me (exasperatedly): BECAUSE THERE IS GOLD THERE!!!!
Mr White: Alright fine, where is this GOLD you speak of?!?!? Near the CAS? Or in the Lake? Or near the Tennis Courts?
Me: (Silent)
Mr Red: You, boy. If there is GOLD in ISB, why didnt we find it?
Me: *sniggers* No comment sir, on grounds it may incriminate me.
Mr Aquamarine: Why should we recommend you to ISB? (Furiously counting notes).
Me: Because I am the best GOLD-DIGGER in the world, sir.
Mr White: (thumps the desk suddenly) ENOUGH! Answer this. If the world was square, and the diagonal passed through New Delhi, would Mumbai be on the Equator?
Me: If the world was square, all the animals in North America would do the Macarena, and the Rubiks Cube would be obsolete!
Mr Aquamarine: If Telangana is formed, will the Ganges be merged with Infosys?
Me: If Telangana is formed, The Western Ghats will be merged with Madhya Pradesh.
Mr Pink: Sing a song for us
Me: Oh when the saints... Oh when the saints come marching in.. I'll be standing in my undies... When the saints come marching in...
Mr Yellow: What if you do not find GOLD in ISB?
Me: Sir, I will become a deep sea diver who plays music on the radio.
Mr Red: Ok son, any questions for us.
Me: Sir, why are you counting Money and what is that Money for?
Mr Orange: Good Question! This is the next bailout that Obama wants to administer to the US Economy. He wants us to count before he announces it. We are charging him an hourly rate and we insisted that they be delivered in 100 dollar bills so we could maximise our rates.
I got up to shake their hands. Suddenly I found myself stretching my hand out and grabbing a pile of the currency and running. On my way out, I turned and screamed, "Just in case, Sir. Dollars in hand is worth GOLD in the bush, sir!"
And then I woke up and wrote this post.
utekkare,
Pranay
Friday, January 08, 2010
Studiously UnCouth
I was recently invited to become a "fan" on Facebook by another International School in Hyderabad, which is privately run, and charges students from KG onwards, a fee of over Rs 2.50 lakhs per year. It has an amazing campus, great facilities, and boasts of being a world-class school. It seeks to be a temple of learning, a cauldron of cultures, and a centre of academic excellence.
However, it never ceases to amaze me how much our education system is going the way of the Americans. Gone are the days of Convents, and Jesuit schools that could educate anyone at less than Rs 100.00 a year. I studied alongside my maid's kids, and we both got the same education, the same homework, the same canings, and the same disciplinary sermons from the priests (father this and brother that) who taught us for free. They were often mocked for being gay, for being clannish, for being peculiar. But the one aspect nobody questioned were their motives. They demanded our respect and gratitude, and we gave it unquestioningly, because we were naive, and we believed that they had no ulterior motives in educating us, and in fuelling our growth as human beings.
Our teachers were paragons of virtue, not because they were intelligent, or articulate or because they were able to instruct us well. They were respected also because of their impecunity. Their "holier-than-thou" image of a poor, impoverished teacher who lavishes her students with the wealth of knowledge, but is self-sacrificing, and compromises on her own life to ensure she can educate students for the greater good.
A big fall-out of the American Education system is the popular notion of pedigree, network and public perception. You end up gunning for the best brands, the biggest colleges, and you pay top dollar for the privilege of being educated in these colleges. In the USA, it is shocking to see how derogatory students are towards teachers, and it is a rare, inspired, courageous teacher who can earn and retain his/her students respect. You don't worry about whether you'll pass or fail, or get a distinction or if you will graduate, or if your leaving certificate will have "Good Conduct" on it. You take it for granted if your dad is a benefactor of the college.
More than the academic rigor, and the right education, and the knowledge an course brings you, the reasons for choosing a particular school have increasingly become pedigree, reputation, standing, alumni network, and opportunities you get to make your presence felt across the world, and land the best job at a great salary.
Of course, in school, these reasons are not YET as much of importance, but with the advent of greater fees, I think that parents / students will become less obedient and will demand more as consumers. Greater bang for their buck! I mean, I know that my aunt told me about Ecole Mondiale where parents asked the teachers how they failed their child, when they were paying all the money that was asked for!
I mean, with the money paid out, a parent who already has no time to spend with his kids, will assume that the school is also parenting his kid, and guiding the student towards academic success, since that is the "product" he has purchased for his kid - a great education.
We did not have any access to television, or radio, or the internet. We did not have cell phones or sms or any kind of satellite tv. We watched movies in cinema halls, bought Simba Chipmiks and Popcorn and bought stall tickets for 10 rupees. When I was in college, Sterling cinema dress circle tickets cost 45 rupees, and were considered rich kid's seats. Or a special treat for your birthday.
My point is, we were naive, and we did not possess the cultural or the economic aspirations of today's generations. Today, 10 is the new 15, 15 is the new 22, and 5 is the new 12. The kids are sharper, smarter, and more money-minded than even the toughest gujju sharebroker you know.
Where is the respect a teacher earning upwards of 12-15 lakhs a year will earn, when the students ( and kids are sharp today) will point out that they are effectively paying for her salary and that she shouldnt be in the position to govern them?
And thats just sad. We (the people who were kids in the 70s and 80s), are lively, intelligent, happy creatures because we had the shit beaten out of us by these priests (i went to a catholic school too!), and we were taught to respect, love, and be disciplined. And we respected them because we felt that they because they were altruistic, and that it was just the nobiity of the cause that made them teach us.
Child Plans and Insurance companies are the unsuspecting benefactors of the rising cost of education in this country, and are not afraid to flaunt it with their hackneyed attempts at promoting aspirations for both parents and their kids.
I'm think that Education is the best aspiration of the middle-class and the worst bedfellow of capitalism. The consequences of this seemingly unstoppable collision could be catastrophic for the one last competitve advantage we hold over our other similarly aspiring developing countries - our underpaid, English-speaking educated population.
utekkare,
Pranay
However, it never ceases to amaze me how much our education system is going the way of the Americans. Gone are the days of Convents, and Jesuit schools that could educate anyone at less than Rs 100.00 a year. I studied alongside my maid's kids, and we both got the same education, the same homework, the same canings, and the same disciplinary sermons from the priests (father this and brother that) who taught us for free. They were often mocked for being gay, for being clannish, for being peculiar. But the one aspect nobody questioned were their motives. They demanded our respect and gratitude, and we gave it unquestioningly, because we were naive, and we believed that they had no ulterior motives in educating us, and in fuelling our growth as human beings.
Our teachers were paragons of virtue, not because they were intelligent, or articulate or because they were able to instruct us well. They were respected also because of their impecunity. Their "holier-than-thou" image of a poor, impoverished teacher who lavishes her students with the wealth of knowledge, but is self-sacrificing, and compromises on her own life to ensure she can educate students for the greater good.
A big fall-out of the American Education system is the popular notion of pedigree, network and public perception. You end up gunning for the best brands, the biggest colleges, and you pay top dollar for the privilege of being educated in these colleges. In the USA, it is shocking to see how derogatory students are towards teachers, and it is a rare, inspired, courageous teacher who can earn and retain his/her students respect. You don't worry about whether you'll pass or fail, or get a distinction or if you will graduate, or if your leaving certificate will have "Good Conduct" on it. You take it for granted if your dad is a benefactor of the college.
More than the academic rigor, and the right education, and the knowledge an course brings you, the reasons for choosing a particular school have increasingly become pedigree, reputation, standing, alumni network, and opportunities you get to make your presence felt across the world, and land the best job at a great salary.
Of course, in school, these reasons are not YET as much of importance, but with the advent of greater fees, I think that parents / students will become less obedient and will demand more as consumers. Greater bang for their buck! I mean, I know that my aunt told me about Ecole Mondiale where parents asked the teachers how they failed their child, when they were paying all the money that was asked for!
I mean, with the money paid out, a parent who already has no time to spend with his kids, will assume that the school is also parenting his kid, and guiding the student towards academic success, since that is the "product" he has purchased for his kid - a great education.
We did not have any access to television, or radio, or the internet. We did not have cell phones or sms or any kind of satellite tv. We watched movies in cinema halls, bought Simba Chipmiks and Popcorn and bought stall tickets for 10 rupees. When I was in college, Sterling cinema dress circle tickets cost 45 rupees, and were considered rich kid's seats. Or a special treat for your birthday.
My point is, we were naive, and we did not possess the cultural or the economic aspirations of today's generations. Today, 10 is the new 15, 15 is the new 22, and 5 is the new 12. The kids are sharper, smarter, and more money-minded than even the toughest gujju sharebroker you know.
Where is the respect a teacher earning upwards of 12-15 lakhs a year will earn, when the students ( and kids are sharp today) will point out that they are effectively paying for her salary and that she shouldnt be in the position to govern them?
And thats just sad. We (the people who were kids in the 70s and 80s), are lively, intelligent, happy creatures because we had the shit beaten out of us by these priests (i went to a catholic school too!), and we were taught to respect, love, and be disciplined. And we respected them because we felt that they because they were altruistic, and that it was just the nobiity of the cause that made them teach us.
Child Plans and Insurance companies are the unsuspecting benefactors of the rising cost of education in this country, and are not afraid to flaunt it with their hackneyed attempts at promoting aspirations for both parents and their kids.
I'm think that Education is the best aspiration of the middle-class and the worst bedfellow of capitalism. The consequences of this seemingly unstoppable collision could be catastrophic for the one last competitve advantage we hold over our other similarly aspiring developing countries - our underpaid, English-speaking educated population.
utekkare,
Pranay
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