$ Software Blues $

One of the greatest nuances of the exalted course of Engineering is the necessity to do a project. Something which they say of course, is going to have a unimaginable effect on which company you join, where you work and in the long run what sort of an example you will set for your children and their future generations.

You as always have 3 choices:

1. Actually do a project, learn code, write code and slowly lose all your hair.

2. Work with a company (nothing look good corporate experience!),wear a tie, acquire an ID card and in short try and act like your doing something important.

3. Buy a project, make someone else teach it to you and then sign your name in the end.

Now option 3, seems like the most sensible choice. But for some, weird reason I found myself choosing option no.2.

So me and my fellow droog, would wake up early in the morning, put on our best face and try our hardest to catch that early morning bus. Why after all, we were now part of the exalted Indian I.T Industry!

This exalted company had with it, a great history and an even greater tradition of producing true leaders. We obviously would be a great mismatch, or atleast that’s what we thought.

In no time at all, me and my fellow droog found out (rather surprisingly) that actually maybe the skill set and the credentials we had , infact made us over qualified.

Our Daily Schedule

Without fail, Wake up late and miss the bus.

(ok maybe, I should rephrase this as “My daily Schedule")

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Arrival, 9’0 Clock time for Breakfast

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Good Breakfast! Quite stuffed, let’s shake it off. Time to play some T.T

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Alright time, for the first coding act, Walk to the office mumbling “Implicit, explicit”, and in short try to look intelligent

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Right! Time to read the paper

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Lunch!

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Woohoo, Its 3PM, Pool table opens

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4PM, Its time to put on that intelligent act again

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4:30 Tea Break

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5 ‘O Clock , phew! Its been a hard day...

Alright, I must admit , I am exaggerating a little bit here. They were days, where I decided to take a snooze in between as well.

But most of all, Some of the most memorable moments, for me and my fellow droog were in a place affectionately referred to as “HQ”, as in “HeadQuarters”

This quaint lounge like place, where everyone in the company would decide to lounge had a T.T room, Indoor golf, a T.V and a Hi-Speed internet connection. (Now what else could you possibly require).

Not surprisingly, me and my fellow droog monopolized the T.T table, and it was here that we played with some of the most stimulating T.T players, you could ever want to play with.

Me: Think his forehand is weak, Serve to his forehand.

Mr. Stimulating: (Looks quizzically at me)

Me : Yeah, Serve to his forehand..its an important point.

Mr. Stimulating: ( Looks quizzically at me)

Me: Cmon! Serve to his forehand, this is my 5^th game in a row and I might have to get back to work.

Mr. Stimulating : ( Looks quizzically at me), Saarry Saar, I dan’t know wat is forehand, backhand..

Yes that really happened, the same chap was btw spotted the very next day making the Snooker cue double up as a ceiling broom.

Damn, I just realized, I haven’t told you anything about my project, which is why I was at the company (or was supposed to be at the company) after all…

The project was about something, which I still obviously don’t understand. Very soon in the piece, I realized that I would need a minor miracle, so that I would be able to complete it. My fellow droog, was in the same position, so I took the most obvious course of action, A Holiday to Bangalore!

I still remember my conversation, with my droog the last Friday morning, before I left.

Me: Dude, Where are you, I’m in office and yr not?

Fellow Droog : No dude, Anyway no hope! (In his characteristic style). I’m staying home and watching the match.

My holiday, got a little extended, I thought as long as me and my droog were both in the same sinking ship, atleast I had company and I went to work the following Wednesday, half expecting my fellow droog to well, still be watching the match.

Me : What’s happening man.

Smiling Droog : Whats up baby! Give me a 5 baby! My project is over!

Me : What the fu&*???

Smiling Droog : (Pointing out), You see that guy over there, that oily bugger! He finished it on the weekend! Its party time babyyy!

Party time indeed, It was now me and only me left there, and it was well and truly only the beginning of my experience of “Software blues”.

To be continued....

CATastrophy

It’s that time of the year again, where every ad on every newspaper has the words CAT, TIME or IMS inscribed on them. Yes, Join TIME, study for CAT, Get into IIM, Instant Nirvana !

Life supar set machi!

Or if not you can write XAT, MAT, HAT VAT and then life will not be supar set, but set just the same.

So what do people do?

CAT ASPIRANT NO.1

Dude, I’ve taken a complete year off man! I’m only working on mock cats, trying to improve my conversion ratio, trying to learn vedic maths. I want to be in my zone during those 2 hours, so yoga is essential as well. No disturbance, see even my cell phone is off!

CAT ASPIRANT NO.2

Yes Dude, I really think that all the exams, I’ve ever written in my life mean nothing compared to the CAT, Im going to write in Nov. Those two hours are going to make or break my life. Which is why, I have joined the TIME extra long batch. The course also gives you a sneak peak in the making of an IIM, What he eats every morning, what music he listens to and even which actress he fantasizes about. Any information is essential you see, you can never be over prepared for CAT.

Yes, By now the CAT faithful, who is reading this blog is already seething. Sarcy cynical syal has to make fun of everything,partly true, yes. But rationally speaking isn’t there a part of you which feels that CAT is maybe over sensationalized. That, yes, there actually may be more to life or atleast success in it than CAT?

How important is CAT anyway? And is it worth all those mid night classes and yoga classes?

Well to start off, CAT itself is positioned as an Aptitude Test, where the word aptitude itself means that it is you’re in built ability to assimilate information. Now the basic reasoning, behind why these MBA schools came up with the CAT or any of these aptitude tests was to eliminate the mug pots and come up with the people whom they thought would have the maximum probability of succeeding in the real world or in other words people whom they thought had the maximum natural intelligence.

Now what good is all of this, if you have an Extra Long term batch (with vedic maths thrown in), with students mugging up formulae for close to a year and a half. What then is the difference between an aptitude test and any other exam we unfortunate souls have written ? And if IIM’s can be creating by making them go to class and slog for 1 and a half years, and if obviously IIM is the be all and end all of life, why don’t all parents send their kids to the classes from the age of 4. In fact, very soon there will come a time when pregnant mothers, will be advised to eat foods only rich in aluminium and minerals, why it increases their child’s “Data interpretation” levels.

Another aspect, which is often over looked is the over willingness of various companies to offer incredulous salaries to IIM grads. Now when a F.M.C.G company offers a fat salaried job to an IIM grad to essentially sell more of a F.M.C.G article, say soap, honestly does he have a better chance of selling more soap just because he has done an IIM degree? Also, how would you compare his chances of selling soap over the regular joe (road warrior) who has been selling soap for the last 10 yrs , knows the ins and outs of the trade and is very succesful at it. Is the IIM grad really worth that much more, and is he really going to sell that much more soap?

Yes, IIM is the best M.B.A in the country, with great international acclaim which will probably get you a job with a fat pay cheque when you complete your degree. But that does that mean once you get that dream job you are set for life? Is that really going to keep you happy for the rest of your days? Or is life a continuous learning process?

Is the CAT worth all the hype ? Is the CAT a make or break exam? Is it IIM or suicide? Or is it true that if you are good, you will make your mark in whichever field you pursue… Too many tough questions, for now a simpler one....

When is the next mock cat?

p.s So in order to tame the CAT, You have 2 options

a) You could slog for a year and a half mastering vedic maths,pranic healing and give CAT your best shot. (for what its worth)

or

b) You could write a blog anticipating that you’re not going to do very well in it , justify why and feel happy about yourself.

Now you don’t need to be Albert Einstein to figure out which path I’ve taken

The Full time Entertainer

I’d love to write about Robbie Williams, but then ‘Robbie Williams, the entertainer’ in no way compares to the person, I am going to acquaint you with now.

Welcome to Kodaikanal, the hill station where they are so few things to do that poking holes in numbers on a piece of paper, is as awaited as the nabbing of Osama by Uncle Bush.. And all the Holidayers, with little to do, gather around a happy bonfire, all tiffin carriers and all waiting for their version of ‘Robbie’ to show them the path to enlightenment..

‘Selvam’, otherwise referred to as ‘Super Selvam’ (but then how important is a name) shows up all smiles, hustling and bustling his way through the crowd. If you haven’t guessed by now, the game in question is a game called housie, or lotto or bingo or whatever depending on which part of the world you are from The game is actually quite simple, there is a simple 3 step procedure.

Step 1 : Understanding what Super selvam says.

Step 2 : Punching toothpick in number

Step 3: Shouting “boogey”, “boogey” till Super Selvam informs you otherwise.

Out of all these, Step 1 is by far and away the toughest.

Now, Housie callers or announcers or whatever it is they call themselves, really are a queer breed of people. You either get these old retired army officer’s, who seemingly get a great sardonic pleasure, when they announce “Two fat ladies, 8 and 8, 88” , or you get these old bandicoot housewives who say “Men get naughty at the age of 40” so scathingly that you begin to wonder what’s happened to their husbands since.

But then, Our Selvam is not one to follow anyone else’s footsteps, Is he? He charts his own course. Selvam is a profound sophisticated fella which reflects almost instantaneously in his number calling.

“The dirty and one, Three and one, No. 31"

“Luck for some, oneluckyy far most, No.13”

“Top of the digits, Something wrong No.9”

Hang on a moment, What on earth is “Something wrong”, being the curiosity driven cat, that I am , I had to find out.

So, there I went.

Me: Sir, Sir, What is this “Something wrong”?

Super Selvam : What men, Summa joking ha ? No.9 men...Don't you know?

Me: No No, Sir I really want to know

Super Selvam : (beckoned me to his ear) No.9, men…. AMBOOD!

I was a satisfied man...

One year passed, and rather regrettably we ventured back to that happy bonfire only to see “Super Selvam”, at the helm of affairs again. With renewed confidence and a swagger in his walk, something told me that he had some new tricks up his sleeve.

“Kiss and run, if you have the lucky number vone, Vonly no.1”

“What the little babies do, Vonly no. 2”

Hang on what about the rest of the working world.I thought.

Every performer has one “Magnum opus”, like they call it. For Sinatra , it was “My Way”, for Belafonte “Havanageela”. Well what about our Selvam then?

“Feel free , after number 3, Vonly number 3”

Alright, let me be honest, I knew very well what “Something wrong” meant when I went up asked him the last time, But honestly what the hell is “Feel free after number 3”

I mustered courage and ventured out towards Super Selvam again, This time, I knew I would have to do a little more cajoling, or as we say in these parts, apply a little more “Amul”.

Me : Hello Sir, You really do a fantastic job! I am a big fan!

S.S : Yes yes ( trying to recollect where he had met me last)

Me: Sir, Are you a professional housie caller?

S.S: What Man? I am a DJ, I am an dancer, I am a compere ,I come up with slogans, Actually I am a full time entertainer!

The Amul was obviously working….So I went for the kill.

Me: Sir, I have understood everything. But what is this “feel free after number three” all about?

S.S: Summa making fun eh? Seriously seriously, u don’t know?

Me: Seriously, I don’t know sir.

S.S: You don’t know?

Me: No sir, Please tell me.

S.S: I think yr making fun men, See when you are in a hurry, when you are in a rush, you go and then you feel relasked!!

Me: Go where sir ?

S.S: U go men, and u feel relaasked (Puts hands up)

Me: Sir, I seriously don’t understand.

S.S: See men , you are in a hurry you go to the toilet.

Me: Yes yes (Awaiting anxiously the clincher)

S.S: See men, Very Simple You go to the toilet. Then, it’s “ One front,(puts hands in front of him), Two Back! (puts hands behind) One plus two equals three!"

And we thought life was complicated…

On a parting note he then said to me, “What men,I think you are summa jokin..Do nat tell this to anyone ha, Pleezz,”

And then I reassured him, “Sir, seriously,Who can I possibly tell all this too?”.

Do you have a good hand ?

Over the last 2 weeks, I have been taken on what I would call, A complete downhill ride into the frenetic confused world which is insurance. I have been trained to now, well judge your human life value, your risk appetite and in effect how every passing second is increasing the chances that you eventually do, yes kick it ! Yes, it is a morbid trade.

Your introduction to the world of insurance will in all likelihood be like this :

Distraught desperado : Hellu, Hellu. This is Suzuki Ram reddy

Unsuspecting victim : No No Thank you, I already have Suzuki car.

Dangerous desperado : Wat Sir, You mistake me, this is Suzuki Ram Reddy Pilli ( name not changed on request) calling on begalf of ICCI Prudential. May I speak to Mr Subramaniam Iyer pleease ?

Remorseful victim : I am sorry, he passed away 1 year back.

Pilli : Saury, Did he buy it, the insurance ?

Befuddled victim : How does it matter ?

Pilli : I suppose he did not baught the insurance , Like all the young fellows today, you also sould not make it the same mistake,. Only louving famely till they die and not till the famely dies. Wuurst mistake.

Suspected Victim : Worst mistake! Picking up the phone, I already have enough insurance, Pease leave me alone.

( ok in most cases the conversation would end here, but blogs are never about “most cases” , now are they)

Insightful Pilli : Vokay, I am supposing you louve you’re family, that is why you have taken it the insurance. But do you want to take it care of it only prasant family, or all future generations aalso.?!?!? Do you have the dreams ?

Hapless victim : I guess we all do.

Euphoric pilli : Then, Please now take a piece of paaper and write down vall…you are dreams, ambitions. You write sar, I go (puts ring finger up ) Kindly excuse sar, One bathroom !

Convinced Victim : Ok, Ok Mr. Pilli ,This sounds a lot like one of those MLM’s?

Deflated pilli : Actually, yit is not a yem el yem (MLM), It is a networking company, Brit World wide. We promote yedification , betterment of society. Only in this bisness men , you can become millionaire in vonly 5 years.

Awakening victim : Cut the crap, Im not wasting my hard earned money, on your trash. Screw off!

Purposeful pilli : Vookay , You basically shortage of funds. I have fantastic salution far you. You go for it personal loan, then sir?

Vengeful victim : Listen up you mother fu*&^%, I am going to take you to the cop station and make sure they beat you so badly, that you will have to sell yourself one of those fu&^%* policies.

Propostrous pilli : Daiii ! Waat men, You acting off too much ha ? You dounot know who you are talkin to menn…I am big fellow in my company, You ask about me men, You also. Go men. YOU P-U-C-K-E-R-R

Right, After going through all that you obviously want to know, How you can avoid being that unfortunate soul, who just got P-U-C-K-E-R-E-D.

Like many of my blog predecessors before me, I have also ventured into answering a simple F.A.Q which might help you actually make the most of the anticipated cold call ( Insurance lingo for call to unknown person, anticipating a cold response)

F.A.Q

Alright, let’s start with a simple one. How do I avoid this lunatic ?

Kill him.

Looks like, I will most likely have to kill myself if he calls?

That’s a good idea. But it makes more sense if you buy one of his policies first, wait for a year and then kill yourself. Suicidal claims are entertained only after 1 year; you can actually make a lot of money that way.

Hmmm. What if I just fake my death?

And where are you going to get a dead body that looks like you, You smart ass!

Ok Ok, What if I say just go missing ? They won’t ask for my dead body then, now will they ?

Well, in order for that alternative to take effect you have to go into exile for a minimum of 7 years. Hiding next to Mr.Jackson in “Never never land” sounds like a good option. You should be relatively safe there.

What good is this stupid F.A.Q ? Isn’t there anyway I can actually gain from this mutton head calling me?

Well, You can join his MLM.

Funny, You sound a lot like him. What about some way I can gain from insurance ?

Yeah well, I can let you in on a trade secret.

Finally ! What is it ?

Well, If you are crossing the road on a crowded afternoon, And both a crowded P.T.C bus and a normal vehicle are charging towards you, It is much more profitable to jump in front of the P.T.C Bus. You will actually earn double, or at least your family will.

Are you trying to be funny man? cause if you are, you’re doing a pathetic job at it !

I was'nt sir, But if you want me to, I could. Allow me to entertain you briefly with a short tale . We have a total of 4 characters in our little story. Little Johnny , Papa Boney,Mama Moaney and Uncle Wanky.

Note: Anything sexually oriented here will be referred to as “A little bit of the ole“ for reasons of convenience.

One afternoon, Little Johnny was walking around his house, when he noticed his father Papa Boney indulding in” A little bit of the ole “ with his maid. So he asked him.

Little Johnny : Dad, What are you doing ?

Papa Boney : (Visibly flustered) Nothing much son. I am just playing some poker.

Little Johnny nodded his head and was visibly convinced.

Next Day

Little Johnny went to his Mom’s office, where he saw her as well indulging in “A little bit of the ole” with her Boss.

Little Johnny : Ma! Ma! What on earth are you doing ?

Mama Moaney : ( Totally befuddled) Well son, Am just playing some poker.

Johnny was now convinced. He had seen his dad play the same game the day before, and by now was learning how to play it himself.

Next Day

Little educated Johnny now ventured into his neighboring uncle’s house, where he was greeted with the baffling sight of his Uncle furiously indulging in “A little bit of the ole” with himself.

Little Johnny : What in God’s name are you doing, Uncle Wanky ?

Uncle Wanky : (Concentration totally disturbed) Well not much Son, Am just playing some poker.

Little Johnny : (Bewildered) Yes, But Where is your partner ?

Uncle Wanky : Well Son, Actually come to think of it, You don’t need a partner if you have a good Hand.

Well, that brings to an end our F.A.Q section, And do keep in mind what Uncle Wanky said, You can actually apply his philosophy to most facets of everyday life.

:: 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.