24 November, 2009

The Distilled Truth

I really don't know what to say. My entire belief system has gone down the drain... I feel so insignificant now that I know the truth. I had it wrong all along....

19 November, 2009

So that’s what it feels like.

Today I went through what a goal keeper goes through when you somehow manage to pull off saves and bring the game all the way to the end, and that one goal screams past you, the emotions and the trauma – totally sucks. The worst part is that it wasn’t even an impressive goal. The player took a chance and fired…and it just pops in. Totally sucks. We had the finals of the football tournament at college. My section was touted to win…especially since we pretty much won everything else. Thanks to the wobbly knees, I have been goalkeeper throughout the tournament.

I made some really good saves all the way through. An especially good one when the striker of the other team made a one on one challenge and I stopped the ball. Reminded me of the good old days when I was goalkeeper. Quite a few decent saves….all that for nothing, because one went through. After a game like this, one won’t remember the saves…but unfortunately remember that one tricky little fellow who got through. Why is it…that when we win, we quickly forget, but losses seem to occupy the rooms of our head longer than necessary?

I’ve been totally bummed out. All the saves for nothing. And that’s the third time I’ve come to the finals and am returning with the silver. At times like these, I remember a quote from a movie:

You'll come to see that a man learns nothing from winning. The act of losing, however, can elicit great wisdom. Not least of which is, uh... how much more enjoyable it is to win. It's inevitable to lose now and again. The trick is not to make a habit of it.”

But then, there’s another quote in the same movie:

Winning is not everything…it’s the only thing!!!”

So what do I listen to? I like the sound of the second one. I also handled the loss quite maturely…stormed into my room, switched off the lights, turned on some heavy metal and screamed. Now not only do I have a loss on my hands, I have a sore throat and a headache from all that screaming. Nikhilesh scores one for maturity.

15 November, 2009

Got two more years…

I am sufficiently petrified after 2012 for a number of reasons. Spoiler alert for those who have not seen the movie! First and foremost, India is totally wiped off the planet, so that’s a bummer. Secondly, apparently Indians have no place in the new world. In the ships that are to be arks for the new world, where people and animals are taken on board, there is not a single Indian. Poor Jimmy Mistry, the scientist who discovered that the world was going kaput , himself was not invited to be part of the new world. Instead found himself swimming with the fishes…literally. Come to think of it, with his really bad accent of how Indians speak English…and his even more horrid rendition of Hindi, I guess he would not be the best to represent the sub-continent.

Anyway, not a single Indian on board. We’ve got Americans, Russians, Chinese, French…and the Spanish…what were they ever good for except for football and bull fighting? And the French…except for their wine and Marion Cotillard? But not one Indian…I mean, who is going to run your call centers in the new world? I am sure we were still waiting 24x7 thanks to the client agreement…poor old Manjunath sitting in his dingy office in sub-urban Bangalore waiting to pick up the phone, claim he is George Michaels, all in his accent reminiscent of Abu from the Simpsons. Then….the Tsunami hits…While drowning saying ‘thank you for calling us, we understand your prooooooooo……….” (phone goes dead)

Anyway, 2012 has me really spooked. If it is true, I have only two years to get stuff done. Also, think about this…who is called onto the Ark to form the new world? Brushing aside the bullshit about selecting the best from the gene pool, one notices that only the ones with money seem to be getting on board. I am the poor son of a poor father…where will I come up with a figure like one million euros? Am I a great scientist that they will take me on board ? No. Am I a major public figure that would help contribute towards building the new world? No. Am I an engineer of some sort who can set up bridges, roads and other aspects of the urban jungle in the new world? No. Look at it; I am nobody of importance in the new world. And that’s kind of sad. Makes me feel suicidal thinking where the last 25years went. Another reason why I am shocked we didn’t have a single Indian aboard was the question of repopulating the planet. Come on….we’ve proven ourselves. We have the statistics. We hit the billion mark…get a few of us on board and we’re giving you returns like you didn’t expect. Oh wait! Maybe that’s why they didn’t take us on board! Dammit….we Indians and our repopulating ways!

Jokes apart, if the world is coming to an end, I’ve got 2 years to get my camp in order. List of things I need to do:

1. Learn to fly a plane, ride a ship, a motorbike…and a car. (these are skills that come on handy while running away from earthquakes and falling buildings)
2. Get into prime shape…improves survival.
3. Get myself onto the top minds list…or get really rich or influential.
4. Get a girlfriend (someone to hug and eyes to stare into when the major tsunami hits…took that from the movie…kinda corny…but deem it important)
5. Read books on architecture and civil engineering to help out in the new world.

All said and done, 2012 is great on the special effects, story is so-so at best, corny dialogues and sentiment that is laughable.... but the special effects! Totally worth it!

08 November, 2009

Aow, so loverly

I wrote this during class....was doodling while the tune of 'Aow, so loverly.' from 'My Fair Lady' ran in my head.... I've linked the original at the end.

It’s rather dull in college, I think I’ll take me to GRT,
The prof wants an assignment submitted before 3
Me mother says some more I must study!
Mmmmmmmm isn’t it terribly?

Lots of cases for me to do....
Spare time to live, oh so few.....
Assignments, TA’s, dieting....
Aow, so terribly!

All I want is MBA degree....
With a paycheck all for me...
Six figure starting salary…
wouldn't it be loverly?

Lots of books for me to read…
Nutritious meal is all I need…
Warm bed, warm tea,
Aow, wouldn’t it be loverly?

The original...

07 November, 2009

Buying a boat...

I am planning on buying a boat. Please don’t mistake this as a result of my skepticism regarding placements and hitting the alarm buttons and hence trying an alternate profession as a fisherman. No, no… I am buying a boat to get to class. I have heard a lot about the infamous rains down south, but over the last one week, I am witness to the annoying fury. The rain is like when someone in the neighboring room decides to play techno at full volume on speakers better than yours. And you get a headache thanks to the incessant thump techno beat that has been put into a loop. Thankfully, my neighbor at college plays good music...dream theater, Joe Satriani and stuff I don’t mind listening through the walls. Anyway, I am buying a boat to tackle the flood that is building up in the campus.

We are now required to wade through about 1 foot of water to reach class or the canteen. Most people try and be really careful and tip toe through the makeshift bridge so as not to get wet. I prefer the stampede approach. I roll up my jeans till the point where I look like a hobbit and simply stomp through. I stomp a little harder when near the girls…splash some water around and they are sufficiently irked. ( Watte sadist). Just to take the annoyance up a notch, I sing ‘Singing in the rain’ at the top of my voice. I in fact tried the entire Gene Kelly thing…. Picture Frodo in his pants, doing the Gene Kelly dance en route to Mount Doom…actually, considering my size, better consider Samwise Gamgee instead… It wasn’t as fun as when I see it in the movie.

The waters have risen so high, we actually spotted a few crabs on campus. As always, first thing that runs through my head is….Mmmmmmm…..lunch! Crab on a stick! Today was brilliant, the waters were so high that even the makeshift bridge of bricks were almost submerged. Not wanting to get my shoes wet, I’ve arrived in class wearing my bathroom slippers. I feel like a complete villager. I normally prefer to wear shoes or at least sandals to class, but slippers is rock bottom for me. The things I have done in this MBA course. Anyway, I am planning to buy a boat..or follow the guy in ‘Man v/s wild’ on the Discovery channel and build a raft by myself. I can follow Kevin Costner and build a Catamaran. That would be totally cool. Move over guys with your bikes…the dude with the cool vehicle is here. And looking at the whole Global warming thing, I guess this would be a good investment in the future.

On a serious note, this rain had better stop, or I’m going to have a flood in my room and might need to move to higher ground.

06 November, 2009

Yearn for a vintage….

It’s been raining incessantly for the last one week at college. I quite rudely discovered that I am not as young as a I used to be. I got wet in the rain and came down with a bad cold and a fever, probably the only retard on campus going around with a jacket because …oh blimey! It’s freezing down here. I had the entire day off, no class, no assignment breathing down my neck and pretty much nothing of acute importance to do.

It’s been raining outside. I decided to give up trying to figure out cost accounting in the economy of a firm and decided it best to put on some nice opera …Likes of Andrea Bocelli, Il Divo, etc and read a good book while watching the rain drops trickle down my window. Get some nice healthy carrots to munch on, feet up on the table while sipping on some guava juice.

There’s something wrong with that scene. I couldn’t figure it out until late this evening. I didn’t need juice…I needed a good vintage…a fine wine or a long brewed scotch whiskey. My band vocalist recently acquired a bottle of Glen Fidditch (21 years) and had offered me some a while back. Sticking to my diet-guns, I bluntly refused. Now, I want to hit my head against a wall. Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea… out goes the diet and the 6 weeks of sobriety if I give in….and continue with pangs of greed for a fine brew if I don’t…both equally torturous situations. I know they say that the only way to fight temptation is to succumb to it…but the good lord has given a fairly tortured and confused soul. Strong and stubborn when it needs to be…weak when not required. Alas, to avoid the tempatation…I have been slowly sipping on some Green Tea. It isn’t the same.

Lord, grant me a vintage….or good company to enjoy this tea!

03 November, 2009

Ode to the Nice Guys

(This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal ....thought i would share it with you all...DISCLAIMER: The article is NOT my own.I can't find the name of the author...so please don't sue...this is your article...am just spreading the good cheer...the things I do, so as not to end up in court.)

Ode to the Nice Guys

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. >From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

(There is also an "Ode to Nice girls" which was posted as a rebuttal to the nice guys....but I'm going to be a male chauvinist and not put that up...Use a search engine)

So Tweet...

Guess what happened a few minutes ago? Sheesh….how silly of me. If you could guess stuff like that, one – you won’t be reading this blog. And two – if you had such fantastic powers of cognition, why would you waste it guessing what happened in my life. Anyway, I was just tweeting about tonight’s game, when I made this sudden discovery…. I stumbled upon Gul Panag’s twitter account. This is a good start to the day at 1:30 AM….Not only do I find Gul Panag to be really cute with those dimples, she is also really smart. Okay….I am a smitten kitten ever since I laid eyes on her. Anyway, I am totally excited right now to have stumbled upon her twitter account….and guess what…Sidin (The other blogger/Twitterer whom I follow) is also following her tweets…seems they are good friends! If this mallu from the IIM can go through all that and become a writer…. There is scope for this tambram! And hey, I could also know some really smart and cute people (besides myself)

Does anyone else think I need a more serious hobby? By the way, I am on Twitter too. (sorry... need to stop reading Kotler....infectious...can't get marketing out of my blood...)

01 November, 2009

Thank you for not stereo-typing.

We recently had a couple of issues at college. Staying true to my image of being a clown, I sent a mail out to everyone hilariously pointing out benefits of a certain ruling passed at college to my …. For lack of a better word… ‘community’ of people. By that, I refer to the religious creed that I belong to, people who follow, or are expected to follow the doctrines laid down by our honourable ancestors in their wisdom and vision for my creed. Lol….These MBA types no…everywhere ‘mission and vision’. Anyway, it seems I have irked a few nerves among my kind. Apparently, they’ve taken a little too much to heart the stereo-typing and the joke. So far, I have not received any death threats. I could crack some more jokes about death threats and my kind, but then…I don’t want to incur their wrath.

When people ask me questions regarding where the country is going and when we are going to rule the world, I tell them, what country are you talking about? India is merely an agreement among tribes…yes tribes….that we will work towards some common good…or evil. We are still highly skeptical about our region and will kill if needed when someone says anything against us regionally. We’re stereo-types and strong ones at that, who merely agree we’ll field a single team for the Olympics. India is still divided, so what country are you talking about? Russell Peters put it the best – The difference between Indians and terrorists is that terrorists hate the world, and Indians hate each other. Now, you don’t see people taking offence on that statement….don’t lie…I saw you laughing at the joke.

Coming back to the point, when an Indian makes fun of a stereotype, why do people go up in arms? Haven’t we come to a point where we can learn to laugh at ourselves? It’s okay if some firang does it, but not our own. What hypocrisy is this? I wasn’t even making fun of another stereo-type, but my own kind…just because I listen to Metallica and not carnatic music, does not mean I have no respect for our traditions. I just believe that honouring honourable ancestors comes not by following rituals, but using the essence of what I’ve learnt.

Allow me to state some stereotypes, and you know it is true…and if you don’t agree with me, don’t read my blog. Free country! Tams (tamilians) will always be good at accounting…. Look at all the top accounting profs…all tams from my ‘community’. I am the anomaly that they feared. Gujuratis will always be good at business….Marwaris are always good at money-management ( I want to use another word here…but some might call it derogatory…personally, I think it’s a good thing to follow until money starts growing on trees….) Sardars would always be portrayed as lassi-drinking jolly chaps who’d start bhangra at the drop of a hat. It’s all true, you know it. And what is wrong if you are part of a stero-type, it’s a symbol of our culture passed down from our ancestors.

And I am proud of my vegetarian, good at accounting brethren from the community…symbols that we are a highly systematic bunch of people who are accountable – quite literally. I am proud to a point that whenever my Punjabi friend comes up to me and tells me that if I say anything odd, they’ll all come together and beat me. I retort by saying, ‘don’t incur the wrath of my people. We may be demure accountants, but we’ll mess up your balance sheet so bad, we’ll send you to jail for life for forgery and misappropriation of funds.…don’t f**k with me.’ And I mean it. Then why my own people need to frown upon stereo-type statements. In case you feel offended by stereotyping and me pointing out the obvious….sheesh… I roll my eyes and say ….so sowwwieee!