:: The road not taken ::

It was that time of the year again, Nanajii and Naniji were coming home to spend New Year’s with us. And on their traditional welcoming dinner, the line of conversation would invariably follow the subsequent path.

Nanaji : Hanji Beta, So what do you plan to become when you grow up?

Invariably, my answer to that question would change with every visit of theirs, and the conversation would customarily end with my Naniji’s recollection..

Naniji : Aapko malum hain beta, Terey papa ney, issey kursi mein das saal key honein mein bhola , Mein engineer banoonga ! (Do you know my son, your father at the tender age of ten, sat in this very chair and said, “I will become an engineer”)

My life though, could never be that simple. For instance, I remember at the age of 10, I was totally taken up by, one of them law oriented sitcoms, that at our customary annual dinner, I proclaimed full of conviction, “Mein lawyer banoonga !” (I will become a lawyer!)

This obviously changed the following year, when I found out that the law so depicted in those law oriented sitcoms was mostly sitcom, and very little law. I then endeavored, on being selected to the school editorial board, that I now had approved potential in writing, and would become a fine journalist.

So, the following year there I was proclaiming, after the by now customary precursory questions, “Mein journalist banoonga!” (I will become a journalist!)

By now, bets were being taken as to what profession, I would endeavor to take up every passing year, and when I finally reached the hallowed 10^th standard, I reckoned, that I would finally have to make a choice between the illuminating scientific world, and the more realistic business one.

This time, at the Annual dinner, the interrogation took on a more simplistic route. “ Kya Aapko maths nahin pasand hai” ( Why, You don’t like maths? ). When I replied, that No, I did’nt particularly dislike it. , “Phir Aap Science lo” (“Then you must take science”). And until then, I thought that it would the most difficult decision of my life. Decision making is easy isn’t it, more so when it’s being taken by someone else.

The years passed, and at the 12^th grade I took the most obvious step up which was to choose engineering. The 4 years went by in engineering, and very soon it became increasingly evident that I would never like engineering, more so programming.

The problem with both of them was that I never could see any relevance to them in our day to day world. Studying about Mr Lagrange’s theorem or why some functions cannot be implicitly called, really had no bearing on life, the way I understood it.

During the same period, almost like the forbidden fruit effect, I became increasingly captivated by the financial world and the world of stocks and investments. That light brown daily soon became my favorite morning companion, and for the first time in a long time, I actually had a fair idea and grasp of what I was reading about.

As for my engineering, I did what most people in my place would do, struggle through the quantative papers, and gab my way through the theoretical ones. Except for the last year, when we finally had some management papers, my regular routine would be to mug up derivations and other formulae, not understanding even an iota of them and simply spill it out in the paper the following day.

Would it be based on this, that I would be forming my career, for the rest of my days? Was I learning anything, and more importantly “Was I enjoying it?”

With the age old maxim, ” You can only succeed in something, If you enjoy it” , in my mind, I quickly made up my mind and told my parents, that I was going to stay as far away from engineering , as I could.

“If you don’t like engineering, Why did you choose it in the first place, and How can you take up a job in any other sector without any previous experience?”, The barrage of questions, would never end, but fortuitously for me, someone spotted a quick gab and a passion for most things non engineering in me, and offered me a respectable managerial position with one of India’s largest financial houses.

So to all of you who see a little bit of yourselves in me, This is what you must tell your dad, When he asks you, Why you want to say, become a skydiver or say a voyeuristic film maker after enduring 4 years of engineering. “ I am playing to my strengths Pa , The sooner I pursue my interests, the sooner I will start enjoying it, and the sooner I will have embarked on a career I have the best chance of succeeding at . Any interest can be made a career out of today and very often it is not where I start or where I might finish that matters but how much I enjoy the journey”

The older generation has been known to be fond of poetry as well, so you can conclude your little speech like this.

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And I,
I took the one less traveled by,

And that might make all the difference”

The Hitchhiker's guide to the Goan Galaxy

No I have’nt read Douglas Adams.

What I can enlighten you on though, however is the wonderful little (ok not so little) coastal city of goa. I had the pleasure of going there for an all expense paid wedding, thanks to a family friend who decided to book 120 rooms in a swanky hotel for his beautiful daughter’s wedding. (We all love such family friends, now don’t we)

As we embarked on our journey to our hotel, It struck upon me that either Vasco Da Gama was a complete boozard, or he was a paedofile , one of the 2 cause beautiful goa has one alcohol shop in every 2 shops. What’s more some of the local pharmacies sell alcohol as well . It seems like every shop first and foremost sells alcohol which is the staple diet and everything else say medicines for instance, are sold for a supplementary income. With so many alcohol signboards around, One can be forgiven for thinking that the ruling party here is a party called “King fisher”.

Another popular bill board is one which reads

“Paedofiles you are being watched”

which actually again does’nt make too much sense, cause its not like the kids they are attacking can't see what they are doing.

When we finally embarked onto our hotel, We were greeted by a smiling “Tabassum”, yes that's her name,The goan ladies really do have some intresting names, from “Tabassum” to “Blossom” to “Bussom”(ok that’s pushing it!) but you get the picture, and most of them are actually quite pretty. Its funny how most people in goa or most coastal places for that matter are so laid back and relaxed, that you begin to wonder what actually if anything will ever stress them out. The men go out to the sea, bring back the fish, the women cook the fish, produce beautiful kids, and they all(except for the paedophiles of course) get drunk together in the evening.

Life is well, beautifully simple aint it..

I by then had realized that apart from the food, the alcohol was on the house as well. One hour later, I was 3 whisky’s down and quite unexplainably was introducing the bartender to my dad. The magnaminous bar tender in turn proceeded to ask my dad, whether he wanted the same drink his son was relishing. The rest as they say in the classics is that… and I remember spending the rest of the evening completely knocked out in my room. ( thanks to the scotch ofcourse , No my dad didn't knock me out) The evening party proceeded with little blogworthy, though the plans were all set and entrenched for the next day.

Like Goncalo Alvares , Gabriel. Paulo and Vasco Da Gama (thank u google) , me , my brother and a friend of ours planned to venture out like three portugese backpackers into the mainland of Goa. Let me warn you, distances in Goa are mind boggling cause technically goa is a union territory. So our first stop was a beach called the Colva beach in North Goa. The general conception we got here, was as you went from North to South Goa the prices got cheaper, and the people got better looking. We were still in central Goa, so there was a lot of scope for improvement.

Parasailing is something, someone must do atleast once in goa, mine took off from the beach, and there I was atleast 100 feet up in the air, with literally a bird’s eye view of the coastline. The Speed boat ride was next, and we slowly realized why the boatman was insistent that we got into our swimming costumes for it, The ride was fantastic, or actually I really can’t say cause there were continous waves of water running into my face, drenching me throughout.

We ,the Portugese, then checked their resources, times had changed, prices had gone up and if were to eat our eagerly awaited Sea Food Lunch, at the much talked about “Britto’s” , We would have to well..save money on transport. PUBLIC TRANSPORT, the last alternative and 15 mins later Bus Conductor “Balthazar”, welcomed us on board and benevolently informed us that we would need 3 buses and a 15 min auto ride to get to our destination.

Colva to Panjim, Panjim to Margao and then finally Margao to calungute, and we felt like we were writing our own lonely planet travelling guide, A shot of “Raging bull” (Red bull with vodka) later, I was completely rejuvenated and we entered the Calungute beach , Apparently to get to “Britto’s” now, we had 2 options. A shorter walk on the road , of around 20 mins, And a much longer beach along the coastline, but the incentive of maybe spotting some scenery on the beach. Well, the Europeans have always known to be promiscuous, and soon enough we were walking along the coastline.

Some critical precautionary advice to all viewers :

1. Sun Glasses are essential for the aforementioned activity, You don't want to get into a fight with some overgrown German , now do you?
2. Also just a precautionary warning , rather regretablly there is no age restriction as regards to the scenery on offer, So be prepared for anything. And believe me, I doubt there can be a more embarassing situation than a 60 yr old lady confronting you as to why you were staring at her.

That should help you on your way, Coming back to the walk, It seemingly seemed never ending , This was the Goan version of the Dandi march, only in this case instead of salt, We were marching all the way for Mr.Britto's legendary Sea Food.

We were now apparently only 5 mins away from “Britto’s” . Like our weather reports, most of our travelling guides are rather inaccurate as well, cause in their report,they failed to mention (with or without Jetpack), We the portugese finally ended up taking half an hour.

And then Redemption!

Finally, Mr. Mallya’s favourite restraunt in these parts, famous throughout the land and beautifully located just off Baga beach.The food now, took centre stage , as you can probably make out..

Needless to say, the food was unbelievable! I had quite obviously gorged myself on the food, and now was about as mobile as the modern day Yoko Zuna.

Baaga beach as they call it, is supposedly Goa’s trendiest beach, with a lot of Mumbai’s commercial influence. So much so, that even the beds on the beach are on hire.

The beds right next to the restaurant, is a great commercial tactic, after you gorge yourself on the Sea food, you have no option but to rent one. As we predicted the Jet Skiing here, was cheaper than at colva, My brother (who had obviously eaten less than I had ) went first and me with my 2 crabs, 3 prawns and half a dozen mackerel inside me went next. Its funny here, the rates were Rs 300 if you took the trainer along with you and Rs 500, if you wanted to go on your own. So in effect you were paying more, for not using their help which somehow did’nt quite make economic sense to me. Anyway, the Jet Ski ride across the waves, was reminiscent of a galloping horse and great fun all the same. Half way across the ride, I was wondering if I would have to pay Rs 100 more , If during my galloping adventure my trainer galloped of the bike as well.

Anyway, Now we the Portugese settlers were thoroughly exhausted, resulting in proftable times for the Arab Bed Keepers, After another half an hour on the bed side bed’s, I proceeded home.

Our hotel, was one of those well equipped ones with a golf course and a Casino in cue. I now had 2 choices for my evening entertainment, The Sangeeth, the highlight of most Punjabi wedding’s, or the most addictive of all those vices, The Casino.

Predictably, I chose the casino. A fully automated one, and started quite modestly with Rs 200. And before, I knew it thanks to a friendly Black Jack machine, and a friendlier Slot Machine, I was hoarding it in. When I finally exchanged my tokens , I was returned a “Gandhi”, I was Rs 300 up, whoever said “The House always won”, and you can never make any money in the casino.

I proceeded back to the sangeeth, showing off my earnings to my fellow settlers , revelling in my triumph.

It was now 1 o’ clock , The Casino closed at around 2, So 1 more hour I thought to add to my profits or maybe even double it.

What followed was a rather bizarre turn of events, cause all of a sudden my favourite slot machine had become decidedly unfriendly , and quite strangely my cards in black jack , when summed up always read “B-U-S-T".

Yes, My friends , I was caught in the Las Vegan trap, They make you win, in the beginning to make you feel happy about yourself, and then when you start losing you start playing more, cause you are by then desperate to make back what you have lost. Well, the catch here is you can’t play anymore if you have nothing left to play with. Not for the first time, I found out the hard way, and dejected as a wet hen , I proceeded back to the sangeeth.

Goa on the whole was fantastic, and a truly unforgettable experience. More than anything it helped me learn some fundamental truths.

Firstly Yes,

The House does always win.

The Soul who loses will always comfort himself, saying this is the last time he will ever play.

He will play again.

Strange are the ways of the people who walk our planet.

Our planet though is beautiful.

~Page 3~

In 1981 , Someone intellectual in England came up with the ingenious idea of turning the Page 3 of “The Sun Newspaper “ into a full page pictorial of a Topless siren, We should have followed suit.

Instead, Welcome to Page 3 India , the latest tag line, for anything people find difficult to describe. I dunnno…its..its its “Page 3”

Yes, I’ve heard that one before. But what on earth is Page 3. Honestly, What’s all the fuss about. As always, Allow me to enlighten you.

Firstly to get into the Page 3 groove, you must first get the drift of the Page 3 Vocabulary

Like everything Page 3, It is very intricate, difficult to upkeep, with a lot of alternative words often used for the same word.

For instance, The basic word for every conversation is D-R-I-N-K, Now D-R-I-N-K 'S most obvious development is D-R-U-N-K, Now here it tends to get a little complicated, because we have many other words such as :

T-I-G-H-H-H-T

S-M-A-A-S-S-H-H-E-D

C-O-R-K-K-E-D

B-L-L-O-O-W-W-N

Which you would think are everyday words, but on closer inspection it turns out that all of them, all add up to the same thing, which is being intoxicated beyond recognition.

Now that you are D-R-U-U-N-K or C-O-R-K-K-E-E-D or whatever you want to call it, half the battle is won, because that is the No.1 Prerequisite for getting into Page 3.

Unless Of course, You are a “Sophisto”, What is a Sophisto now. You go for a party, and this Ostentatious Lady (Old, Young Sometimes you can never make out) comes up to you and starts the conversation with “ You Know, I am working for this N.G.O”, that my friend’s is a Sophisto. They prefer calling themselves socialites, People who party for a living and what do they do now, for a break or to get away from it all..Well go for another party of course, You have to unwind you know…

Now, A Sophisto, often assures herself, that the only reason why she is in this whole Page 3 mess, is obviously to raise money for the Somalia Victims,or the Japanese Train Crash Victims ( Tsunami is obviously passe) But if you do have a closer look, You will realize that N.G.O actually stands for “ No Gab Option”. Honestly, they have little else to talk about , so they talk about the deprived one’s , Firstly making them feel happy about themselves, Secondly How much skill do you actually need to work in a N.G.O. The decision making process, is quite simple, Damn, I don’t know what to do with my life, Simple! Join a NGO.

Alright, Now this Page 3 society is really seeming very alluring, and your dying to know how to join. Are’nt you? I thought of that, Thanks to Steven (Spielberg) and Vel (Vadivel) , I was transformed into a fly on the wall ( The things, I have to do for this stupid blog!) And this is what I heard :

Location: Deccan Chronicle Newspaper Headquarters

Scene: Recruitment for New Page 3 editor

Page 3 Wannabe: Hiii! (Tight Hug, with Kiss on both cheeks) Long time . How u been?

( Readers , Please Note, She has never met the editor)

Editor : Hi! Ha ( Enjoying the Hug..ummm Squeeze) Please have a seat.

Page 3 Wannabe : Thank you

Editor : If you would care to introduce yourself ?

Page 3 Wannabe : Well, I wear Prada, Party at Lush, Favourite cologne is Chanel (Red), favourite position is the 69’er, and I like my coffee black. That should take care of everything I guess.

Editor : Yes, But of course you forgot to mention your name?

Page 3 Wannabe : Whatevaaa ! Its on my resume…(click here to enlarge) , As ifff!!!

Editor : My humble apologies, Yes, Miss What was it? ...Ramona yes..

Ramoona : Yes 2 o’s please

Editor : Yes, Miss Ramoona, What would you consider your greatest achievement ?

Ramoona : Well I’d like to break it down into Long term achievements, and Short term Achievments.

Short Term: I have been to 9 nightclubs, in one night, Had 4 drinks at each place, and still made it home , Ok Not My home, but who cares…

Long Term : I went to Café Mocha 344 times last year , Breaking that is one of my long term goals this year.

Editor : Right, Apart from that what were you doing last year ?

Ramoona : Well, Actually I took a year off ! ( From what, One wonders). And worked on my applications ( Page 3 way of saying, Did nothing)

Editor : Right, What would you consider your greatest Asset?

Ramoona: No, Have’nt got my implants done,If that's what you were thinking,You Naughty boy! My greatest Asset , otherwise would actually be the Wall in my Beach house, You Know that during the Tsunami all my neighbour’s walls were completely demolished, But I built mine so strong , so strong, nothing happened!

Editor : Right, Did you build it yourself? Anyway Tell me , What is your daily schedule like , to make it simpler , What is your plan for today for instance?

Ramoona : Today is Saturday,What’s wrong with you? I have a heavy night ahead.I'm going to relax...

Editor : Great, What would be your dream profession say 15 years down the line

Ramoona : I want to open a night club, Hey Don’t steal my idea…! (Adjusts make up)

Editor : What sort of a person are you ? Are you more of an optimist or a pessimist?

Ramoona : Actually, My Blood group is B+, This reflects on my positive attitude towards life!

Editor : Fantastic, We are now nearing the end of this interview ..Final question, A cliché’d one, I might add , What according to you is the difference , between sex and love?

Ramoona : Sex is what a really wealthy guy gets from me, and he loves it for sure. So actually, there isn’t too much of a difference.

Editor : Great, This interview has been such a pleasure. I would also like to inform you, that you fit into every criterion required for this job. Congratulations! You are now Chief Editor PAGE 3.

Ramooona : Lovely! (Tight squeeze!) (Smooch Smooch), Will call you in a bit then. Let’s do coffee or a movie or something, to talk it over …bye!!

Brother’s and Sister’s , People like Ramoona do exist, in fact If you look closely, you will find a little bit of her in every person you meet today. So, If you have'nt learnt from them here is a quick 5 step strategy to join the exalted Page 3 league..

1. Get rich!
2. Get a friend, who has gotten rich!
3. Get Drunk!
4. Act Drunk!
5. When someone talks to you about something intelligent, Just say Whatevaaa! And talk to them about your N.G.O

That should do it folks! You are now officially Page 3, Welcome to the world of ass lickers , hot asses and most prominently Dumb Asses. A party is a lot like, a cricket match here, You have to be in form (Buy a new outfit), Get trained (One week of grooming) , Get equipped (Dosh in Bank Account) .And maybe then , you could get interviewed by that short haired babe (who everyone tries to avoid) on NDTV.

But then, How many of you, Would really want to join something, that is about as productive as Ganguly has been in the last one year (Since we are on the cricket comparison tangent). Woody Allen once rightfully said, “At the end of the day, Life is generally measured, by how many new things you learn every day”. Can’t see myself learning too many in Page 3, reminds me of that dialogue from the movie with the same name ...” I don’t want Page 3, I’d much rather be on Crime”. I agree.

And the Booker's prize goes to..

It’s been 4 years, since I started my engineering which means in a few days, I will be able to call myself an engineer (Sigh!).Not that it means much, but then most things don't anyway. The engineering degree is structured in such a way, that it consists of 3 months of undisturbed slumber, followed by a month of hectic exams. So, basically productive activity would all start in that one month. And, the first step of productivity is in procuring the books.

How you procure your books, says a lot about the type of engineer you will finally become. Buying all the books brand new,now is an expensive affair, besides most people have no need for the books after the exams (Most people have no need for the books during the exams as well ,but lets not get into that) . So, the brainwave some intellects came up with, is something known as a “Book Bank”.

Harappa and Mohenjadaro

The “Book Bank” located somewhere in the crevices of saidapet, has to be seen to be believed. It would make the harappa and mohenjadaro caves look modern. Ancient, actually Pre Ancient South Indian Architecture, with an open courtyard in the first floor. At any time in the evening you would find atleast 100 kids hanging with their books from every roof, most of them studying in the moonlight.

The Book bank rents out books and takes them back, which basically underlies that even they believe that books are only meant to clear examinations. On the “Book Collection” Sunday, Hoards of people seem to land up, from all corners making it like a family outing ,fully equipped with tiffin carriers and the works, I really shudder to think what will happen on the “Money Refund day” coming up...My humble advice don’t come within 5 kms of saidapet on June 12^th.

Moore Market

For the industrious Conman, the best option would obviously be “The Moore Market”. Nope, no connection with Demi Moore(Damn!)Situated, next to the Central station , It is chennai’s largest second hand book store (might be Asia’s). The vendors inside, are all apparently long lost cousins of the inspiring Salesman Ramlal. You enter, and you are surrounded by atleast 10 hagglers from different shops, After which it is quite simple

1. Choose a vendor.

2. Make sure, you don’t infuriate the other vendors by doing so.

3. Haggle, Haggle , Haggle

4. Make sure your undies don’t get flicked in the bargain

5. Run for the hills!

So Now, you have figured out how you are going to get your books, The next step is in deciding which books you are planning to buy. Here again, the options are endless.

The Anna University magnanimously, gives you a set of text books and reference books which you are apparently supposed to study from. So everyone optimistically buys the prescribed text books, then feeling happy about themselves forget that they have to open them.

Now the books you choose to study from, is basically based upon the amount of time you have left for the examination.

1-Month to go

Text Book

These Books can be doubled up as body building weights in most cases, So finally that is what they end up doing.

1-Week to go

Next option, Nathuram’s gay cousins A.Godse and S.Godse not forgetting their estranged bother Mr.Bakshi. They are the founders of the World Mensa society, and have atleast 1400 books in different subjects to their credit. Last I heard, the medical society has approached them to write a book on gynecology. As usual, it shouldn’t take more than 3 days to complete.

2- Days to go

Now we enter, the distressed phase, where we realize that the Godse brothers are taking us for a ride, besides they killed our beloved “bapu”. So,We move onto what I’d like to call “My Savior” Charulatha Publications. Affectionately called “Charu”.

Features:

• 1/5 the size of the regular book
• Feather weight
• As many pages as the morning newspaper
• Anything complicated has been omitted (Its not in the syllabus obviously)

Needless, to say this is my favourite book, and I really wish all of us can invite the editors of “Charu” to our graduation party.

1- Day to go

Now we enter, “No Hope” phase. “No Fear, Made easy is here”.

Now Made easy is advertised as the text book made easy, But on closer examination it is more like “Charu, Made easy”

Features:

• Weightless
• As many pages as the Young World
• Random batches of 20 pages at every interval regularly discarded ( You must use your choice in the examinations pa!)
• Complicated things ( Sorry Pa! We also did’nt understand)

15- Mins to go

Last option, when you have recovered from amnesia and suddenly realized you have only 15 mins left for the exam, “The Syllabus”.

Syllabus basically tells you, What you should have been studying in the last one month, which is more or less enough to write about 30 pages in your paper, and is definitely the most optimal solution as nothing can be out of syllabus in this case.

Let’s now move on to some our eclectic authors of the last 4 years, who have now gone to become house hold names

Singaravelu – Ramanujam’s nephew, and the author of every Maths book in this city from L.K.G to Maths for the mentally challenged.

Balagurusamy – The self proclaimed thalaivar of C++. It really doesn’t count for Too much cause one look at his face on the cover, and you really don’t feel like studying anymore.

Much, like the saying “In the long run, We are all dead”, here as well “In the long run, none of this really matters”, Cause our papers are corrected by Frodo and his freckled friends. They use something known as SCM or (“Scratching Correction Methodology” )Tamil version (“Sori Correction methodology”), which in simple terms is scratch with one hand, correct with the other. The marks you get are inversely proportional to the amount they scratch. So, it does make sense to attach a small tube of “Itch guard” along with your answer sheet. No fear, If you didn’t do it the first time, do it when you send your paper for Revaluation.

Revaluation in most institutes means, revaluing someone’s paper.
But here it takes on a simpler meaning

Revaluation – We will try our best to make you pass

Now that the analysis is over, only one trivial task remains, which is to study for the exam…. Damn that reminds me, Its day after tomorrow.

Mobile Musings

"From time immemorial, Man has always found an urge to communicate. From using body parts and perverse gestures he moved on to using more industrious forms of communication like smoke signals and the kabutar ".

The emphasis obviously, on getting the message across in the shortest possible time. He put in a hard days work , entertained his wife (sometimes wives)and was at the end of the day judged on the basis of his intelligence, character and the place he held in society.

How the tables have turned!!!

Smitha : Hey, I went for this really cool party on the weekend

Silksmitha : Yeah. How was it

Smitha: I met this really cool guy, ya!

Silksmitha : Ya!What cell does he have ?

There we have it, A cell phone

"The ultimate status symbol of the younger generation"

And If you have a Reliance phone, May the Lord have mercy on you.

As I had the pleasure of finding out once, at one of those clichéd beach house do’s…

For probably the one and only time, in my hallowed existence I had the pleasure of dancing with a beautiful young lady…The conversation that followed

Pretty lady: Hey Sudhir ! What’s your cell number

Shocked Sudhir : What? ( Wondering , If Christmas had set in early)

Pretty lady : Yeah tell me..what is it..98 ?

Still recovering Sudhir : No actually Its 044..I have a Reliance

Pitiful lady : Oh! (proceedes to next drone)

Next Drone : Ha! U have a Reliance huh! Your best chance of getting lucky is with Sehwag’s mom dude

A few days later, going through the whole incident in my mind..I envisioned a Padymsee like Slogan for GSM phones.

“GSM: YOU WONT GET LAID WITH ANYTHING ELSE”

What is it with women and their repulsion for Reliance phones. I wondered.

What is it with Women and Cell phones in general? Why are they so fixated about them anyway? I was wondering if you guys have noticed, 50% of conversations between women, and most times even men these days are about their damn cell phones.

You hear words like 7700, 6583, P650, P800 being thrown around with gay abandon.

Are the people of our time, really interested in the technology and functioning of cell phones, or are they just trying to sound cool?

This conversation, I had with a girl in my class helped me make up my mind.

Phonofile : You know, I cant imagine a World without cell phones today.

Humble me : Yeah. Why do u say that.

Phonofile : No man, I really believe in that. (Quite emphatically) Cell Phones have become a necessity ! ( Removes her phone)

Observant me: Does your phone have Blue tooth? ( Trying to sound intelligent!)

Phonofile : No , It doesn’t have any games.

I made up my mind.

Another thing, I have noticed is that, People are increasingly judged on the basis of their cell phone.

Reliance – Doodh wala

BSNL – Retard

Pre Paid – Cheap Ass

Post Paid – Cool dude

And so on...

A time may soon come where the Matrimonial section might soon look like this

“A Tall Fair Handsome Tamil Brahmin Iyer boy seeks the alliance of a Tall Fair & Lovely Tamil Brahmin iyer girl. No Dowry,Only Deposit

Attributes

• Well mannered , Fair boy
• Software Professional in Silicon valley, earning in $$

Special Attribute

• Nokia 7700

Requirements

• Girl should be adept at making Sambhar, Rasam, Mulgapudi
• Girl should be able to sms at the same speed, as the items she makes above"

Cell phones have become a very important part of our lives agreed, But I think the fact I am trying to argue with is here that 5 years back most of us didn’t have them anyway, Besides, I am sure most of you know people who don’t have one and get by just fine.

Can we really judge a person by what cell phone he carries?. I know people who change their cell phone, as often as I break my spectacles (very often) and people who actually pay premiums to get the latest cell phone before everyone else does.

Does it all really make sense ? I really thought a cell phone was something you used primarily for conversing (Unless you work for the paparazzi) and maybe messaging if and only if a landline was'nt around you.

I can hear people saying…Dude What about GPRS and a Camera man.

If you are really that much of an internet freak, and want it to accompany you around the world, then buy a Laptop man, What internet can you browse in the 2 by 2 inch screen of your phone anyway??

With the cameras, The resolution in most cell phones is appalling compared to the actual digital camera, and primarily a camera is meant to shoot truly memorable moments for which you would carry your regular camera with you anyway.Alright, there might be a few notable exceptions.. The DPS Video for instance, but last I heard the girl has been exiled to Canada and the most of the girls have learnt from her mistake, or so I've heard.

But What the hell!! The full form of CDMA is still going to be an astonishingly cool thing to remember, people are still going to invest half their first salaries into a new cell phone , leaving me to ponder what I am really trying to achieve by writing this piece of dribble..For one thing, It will make me a feel a lot better cause my phone looks a lot like this.

On the Turning Away

Continued...

“Terrified, stupefied, petrified, fortified, mortified” (ala John Nash) would probably best describe the way I felt as returned home. My dad taking a peculiar pity, on me revived me with a shot of Scotch adding reasuuringly that this was the one time , if ever, I deserved that liberty. Even my friends later in the evening were perplexed as to why I surprisingly seemed very distant and cut off that night. On reflection, I thought that even though the interview was probably the most mentally challenging 45 minutes I had ever spent in my short life, it actually went pretty well. Vanessa, who also happened to be a witness during my interview seconded this and added that I was the the only person upon whom the stresser bestowed the "Its been a pleasure dialogue"

I had my doubts.The next day, still recovering from the events of the previous day, I recounted my experience with an experienced victim of such interviews. He told me that apparently , I made a mistake by declining the “Biscuit bandits”. Apparently their game plan is that, As soon as you take a bite of the biscuit, they will attack you with a question to see whether you first finish the biscuit, or answer with the biscuit still in your mouth . In hindsight, I probably then made the right decision . Considering my previous track record with such affairs , not to mention my eagerness to get the interview moving then,let’s just say the chances of half of Columbia and Korea suddenly being surged upon by “Good day” particles from my jaw were in my estimate “disturbingly high”.

I also couldn’t help but ponder that taking into account that they were aimlessly frolicking for a good half hour after the previous victim had left, they just might have actually made me wait on purpose. How pathetic ! With these, and similar heavy thoughts on my mind, I had a disturbed night’s sleep knowing fully well that the next day would be the day when, I would know my fate.

The following night, the phone rang.”Hello, this is Yousuf...Regional President (for the 5th time) “ It was 10:30 in the night, hardly an auspicious time for a conversation of this nature So, I thought it was one of my friends taking my micky. He had just about finished his now infamous introduction and carried on. .” I am sorry to inform you, that our H.R Firm cannot service your application”.
I was a little startled. More so, by the trivial manner in which he replied then anything else “Yes, Can you give me a reason for this decision", I mustered. He thought for a bit and replied , “Well , we don’t look at the normal criterion a normal Indian H.R Firm looks for (fair enough), Besides we thought you were Over confident (hmm) , not to mention impatient .( Please Note : 90 Min Wait) We also thought you were overtly selective about your countries ( OK, I was’nt too inclined on going to Aceh, or East Timor) . And then, after a brief interlude

The clincher

“ If there is one reason to single out, It would probably be cause you have a technical background but , you are more inclined towards a Management job role”.

Hang on a minute, I thought. Where have I heard that one before!!

I put the phone down, with his words still ringing in my head reflecting how every minute detail in this interview was ingeniously artfully plotted, with utmost foresight and Ambani like deceit.

This was probably the only company in the world which made you apply, made you masquerade around them for a month to acquire an interview, made you subject to intense mental torture and then made you give them a reason as to why they should'nt employ you.


I was that unfortunate person . A battered beleaguered soul, and I really felt like an unfortunate victim of a hitchcock plot. With a prayer on my lips, It was now time to go to sleep. I closed my eyes, slowly drifting into an indefinite slumber. A song played out in the background, I finally knew what it actually meant. It was my only solace .




There is no pain, you are receding.

A distant ship’s smoke on the horizon.

You are only coming through in waves.

Now I got that feeling once again.

I can’t explain, you would not understand.

This is not how I am.

I have become comfortably numb








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Comfortably numb

Over the next few paragraphs, I endeavour to take you through one of the most mortifying experiences in my life , which should give you guys insurmountable pleasure. So sit back, grab yourself a drink cause I have a feeling you are going to relish this.

It was Friday the 12th of March, and I was awoken from my evening snooze, by the unmistakable hoarse voice of Vanessa (Actual name, quite unpronounceable), my placement advisor . Amongst her many attributes is her ability , to change her cell number every week (Hey! I’m on hutch now) not counting the number of times she loses her phone itself. This when combined with her promptness in returning calls (not less than a month) all adding up to make her about as approachable as the Queen. Coming to the organization, whose identity I can’t disclose for obvious reasons, I want you to imagine a respectable Multi national type of organization offering jobs in different countries all over the world, with a wide diversity of job roles . They also are one of the few organizations which offer offer cross over jobs ..as in (Tech to Mgmt).

Any way, she obviously decided that one day’s notice was more than enough for me, and I was told that my interview was the next day at 5 O’clock at Anna Nagar, a good 45 minutes from my house. The D-Day came (Surprisgly soon) and an exhausting auto journey, an altercation with my brother and a bewildering location hunt later, I made it to the interview site quite surprisingly on time.

The office building seemed quite impressive, and when I was directed to the top floor, I thought I could expect a comfortable corporate style Air-conditioned office. To put it mildly, I thought wrong! The interview, was being conducted on the terrace (which must be a first) and I was introduced to a man named Yousuf (name changed on request), A humble self effacing chap who very modestly voluntarily told me that he was the president of the organization and soothingly added that my interview might be delayed. The interview was going on inside, the panel apparently consisted of 6 people from 6 different countries (Korea, India, Bolivia, Columbia, Hong Kong, Lithuania) apparently chaired by an experienced recruiter re known for his STRESS interviews. I was motioned to wait outside, in the terrace I might add, in the sweltering Chennai Heat!!


An hour or so of melting in the terrace later, I decided to take a look into the interview room, to figure out what exactly the situation was. The previous interview was over, And the panelists were now blissfully sipping coffee and evidently pleasuring themselves.

By now, to quote Navjoth Singh siddhu ,” I had lost my marbles”.

“The ides of March, had truly set in.”

So, I gestured to Yousuf , that it was getting late besides, I was also losing weight standing outside. Some time later, He came out giving an explanation as to how this particular organization, had a history of respecting people’s time and that this wasn’t an organization that just got you a job abroad.

I didn’t quite understand, that last sentence of his, I’m sure you don’t as well. But anyway, I wasn’t given a chance to find out what this organization actually did, as I was summoned inside.


INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRES

To describe the setting, the room was quite a small one and inside bunched in like a pack of sardines was an eclectic group of 6, all seemingly piling onto one another. I got the subtle feeling that they had a certain anticipatory grin about them, like when a pack of vultures identify a fresh dead carcass..

The man, in the centre (Indian) introduced himself, which led to 5 more introductions , not to mention my hand feeling a little sore. “BUD DYA JIKE DU HAV SHOM BISHKEY”, the Korean had decided to announce himself. Unfortunately, he had to do so several times more, until finally the Indian took over and explained that he was asking me, if I wanted to have any biscuits. Not to far away, from me, A plate of neglected impoverished “Good Day” biscuits were shoved, crumbling that too with one biscuit seemingly half moth eaten. Much to the disapproval of the Korean, I resisted the temptation. “DJU PLEISH JAV SHOME BISHKEYYY, KOPIII”. Ok, the Korean wasn’t giving up easy, and soon enough half of Eastern Europe had also joined in. I was now getting increasingly reminded of the band of “BISCUIT BANDITS” which I had heard were still at large. This was followed by the sudden development, of the Columbian now becoming very very insistent that I take a bite.

Needless to say, My suspicons as regards to the contents of those biscuits had now reached its peak.

Anyway, the columbian finally gave up , and the Indian moved on with the general arbitrary questions, but soon enough he started living up to his “stressing” reputation with the inscrutable expressions of the Korean backing him up.

A snippet of the conversation:

Interviewer: Do you listen to other people’s advice?

Me: Yes. I am a good listener

Interviewer: So, you can’t think on your own

Conversely

Interviewer: Do you listen to other people’s advice?

Me: No, I trust my own judgment on most things.

Interviewer: Oh! You’re conceited. You don’t value other people’s opinions.


Yes, this was GANG RAPE !! at it’s profound best and it became quite evident to me , that this was a NO WIN situation...

Half an hour through the interview, realization finally dawned upon the Eastern European’s that the cold war had ended 20 years ago, and they decided to albeit regrettably open their mouths. On discerning, I had little intention of coming to within 1000 km of any of their resident countries, they quickly thankfully, reverted back to their “Cold War” status.



It was then, the opportunity of the Columbian, to make the presence of “whatever he was on” felt. He started off, and given his accent and appearance it seemed like he was a “Narco guerilla”, giving me an update of the variety of the stock he was peddling. He went on in great detail, for quite a while until the self appointed translator(Indian) finally discerned that I understood very little of what he was saying.

The Korean, then returned with “ Ip thersih wan reasone, why u dounat tink u will clear dish interview. Wat ish it? “ (If there is one reason, why you don’t think you will clear this interview. What is it?). By then, my Kinglish had improved and I replied that (Pay attention) “It would probably be because, I had a technical background, but was more inclined towards a Management job role”, which actually was quite a corny answer cause, I knew very well that this organization gave out Management oriented job roles to technical people as well. The Korean was'nt done with his sushi , and this was followed by “Cayn dyu Pleaze give ME faive weakneshhes” . He wanted to hear 5 of my WEAKNESSES? I also observed, that almost in perfect unison, All 6 of them removed a note pad to take my weaknesses down.


I was now scanning the room, for all its possible exits. After 45 minutes, the Indian announced that the ordeal was finally over; and also noted that the interview was a pleasure. As I made a dash for the door, I did manage to catch a certain smug satisfied expression on the vulture’s faces.

They had just induldged in a 7 course offering.

I lost way back home…twice! And my mind, seemed peculiarly resistant to response. Everything was a blur... I now knew what Ben stiller felt like in most of his movies. But, even he would have found it difficult to foresee, what was to ensue in the next couple of days.

To be continued….




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