The Facebook Show

Courtesy: www.theclipartillustration.com

Some days I am happy and gay,

Some days I am sad and vague,

Whatever the feeling may be…

A common ground they find with me,

What used to be a call to my bestie

Is now a vent out on Facebook…

For the Millenial in me

  

In today’s world, social media has quickly risen up on most priority lists. If Twitter is the news breaking platform, Facebook has found a permanent residence in most households. Days don’t start without a religious log in to Facebook nor do we sleep a wink without checking our news feed at night. Business travels don’t start without the customary “check in” while vacations are truly not complete if they are not announced on the network. Happiness, Anger, Frustrations, Celebrations, all sorts of achievements...everything finds its way on to this book… hell even a random picture of the neighbour’s dog.

Despite today’s hectic schedules and the busy lives we all crib about, there always seems to be some time left over for this new friend, the one that seems to have taken priority over all others.  Let me correct that; the one that has taken priority but also given us the opportunity to stay connected with friends, family and acquaintances. However there is this nagging feeling I get each time my news feed loads; has that thin line that separates the real from the virtual blurred? Has our dependency on this technology phenomenon reached a point of no return? I oscillate between being irritated and amused each time I come across instances which strengthen this feeling, especially when I see these-

Breakfast Menus: I am really glad you had a healthy breakfast but seriously what am I going to do with knowing whether you had a Parantha or Dosa to start your day with?

The latest weather channel in town: Climate changes. In India it is either hot or cold or raining somewhere or the other. As global warming is setting up home with us, those changes are sudden but definitely not shocking are they? So someone please help me understand why one should go gaga if it suddenly starts raining somewhere? If you are watching the rains from your window go fix yourself some chai and pakoras. Getting soaked in the rains are you? - grab an umbrella or simply enjoy the drench… Oh wait a minute I shouldn’t have said that, that’s another topic to put up isn’t it? Silly me!

Thinking out loud: Yes, Archimedes probably did that when he made his “mass”ive discovery and I am sure it must have been the most exhilarating moment for him; but you know what? He did not go around sending cryptic thoughts out to all, waiting for everyone to inquire what he meant. No one would be happier than me were you truly to have your Archimedean moment, but till then please spare us the rumination… please?

(Dis)respecting privacy: However open one might be on Facebook, there are aspects that everyone prefers keeping private and personal… always; if only that was as easy to understand. Sigh.

Rather than embarrassing them in public, the concerned person willing, do put in all your efforts to get well versed with their personal lives but over private messages, mails or maybe those long forgotten phone calls? “Live and Let live” is too much to ask for these days anyways.

It is that time of the month: No kidding! And pray what honors did we do to be made privy to this information? Should we be cooking you a favorite meal? Take you shopping for those bare essentials or wait a minute are you just warning us about those mood swings? Gawd, the suspense!

Emotional outbursts: Awwwwww…It’s your wedding anniversary! Congratulations! But err… umm… could you keep those lovey-dovey notes/ballads/poetries and re-runs of classic English/Hindi love songs between you two love birds? Let love continue to be in the air and not get poured all over Facebook? Once again congratulations J

The list goes on but you know what is endless? – The “likes” these statuses generate.  People find the time even during a crisis (read illness/surgeries/accidents… even death) to update these on their pages and the likes continue to shower regardless of what the message is.

We have begun to document every single moment of our day to day life, every single thought that crosses our mind, every single activity we do...Have we begun to lead an alternate life? One that is built on impulse most of the time? Is that thin line between reality and the virtual world disappearing? Has Facebook become the new Truman Show?

Too many questions to ponder over but maybe I should do that some other day… it is now time for my customary afternoon log in to Facebook.

The Tall, Dark and Ugly

Coutesy: www.webdesignhot.com

I recently wrote a casual blog post on the popularity Nina Davuluri has gained in India post winning her crown. My blog was a short piece ranting out my thoughts over a quick cup of coffee; however a few light hearted comments that it generated left me brooding all day.

Nina wouldn’t have won the crown here in India…we are the land of the fair and lovely’s… sometimes wheatish does not make the cut either . If these comments were not enough, this Firstpost article and a certain quote from Susan Runkle’s observations left me feeling all the more depressed and saddened.

What is it with fairness and us Indians? Despite being descendants of the brown race, this penchant for the white skin has been around for ages together. With the advent of education and exposure one would expect the mindset to change but if anything it seems to have only worsened. This stagnation of the mind is not surprising given the fact that India only hosts 27.8% of its population in urban areas; India even today is predominantly made up of rural towns and villages. Given the extent of education coverage this unfortunately implies higher rates of illiteracy coupled with rigid mindsets and orthodox beliefs… or so I would think to be the reason behind this craze; but when you really take a look you realize the picture is equally hazy in the seemingly educated strata of our population.

Lighter “fairer” skin translates into a higher societal status, glamour, charisma and a suave and refined persona as far as the average Indian goes; No, it does not stop there.This image is not just limited to the world of showbiz and entertainment. This mindset more often than not carries over to everyday life at the workplace, for marriage alliances and goodness knows where else.

Years ago a senior manager from my team was interviewing a candidate and had asked me to sit in as an observer. The lady walked in dressed in bright colours and some obvious makeup. The interview lasted twenty uncomfortable minutes with the observer driving the conversation. Once she left, I didn’t even have to ask to know the outcome; she was rejected. Oh did I mention she was dark skinned?

The Indian marriage market is driven by looks too. Behaviour, upbringing, family and all other niceties are secondary. What matters most to most prospective mother-in-laws is how fair the potential daughter in law is; that their son might not fit the bill really does not matter. If the girl turns out to be an Aishwarya Rai or Kareena Kapoor look-alike then she has definitely arrived! Mind you, this is a fairly common trait in the so called “urban” areas; we are not talking rural here.

We meet a stranger at a friend’s party or bump into someone at the neighborhood Kirana store, without speaking to the person we form an opinion based on their appearance. The damage is already done there; after all first impressions are usually the last impressions right?

I have been watching their ads since I was a kid some thirty odd years ago. The same concept, the same objective…nothing has changed- Fair & Lovely and Emami have been doing roaring business over the years. I still remember a maid we had back then; she would insist that Fair & Lovely made her look fair just like those “girls on TV”. I failed to see the difference then; I find it tough to see it now either.

Today many more fairness brands have jumped onto the bandwagon and all seem to have carved a spot for themselves in what I am convinced is a multi-million (if not billion) dollar industry. And why should they not? They deserve each and every paisa they make I tell you. Indians never tire of fairness brands... if one does not bring the desired outcome they will try another and then another and then another...the tryst with fairness is never ending. They would be fools not to leverage such a lucrative market. Add to it the rural consumer base and you have your annual revenues met.

Finally that all so important factor that ups the glam quotient for fairness- the Indian entertainment industry. Now tell me, how many dark skinned popular actors do we know in Bollywood? A few yes, mostly in the “Art” scheme of things; but when it comes to mainstream cinema, fairness rules all over. These very actors then take it onto themselves to endorse fairness brands. So what message are we spreading out here?

In India beauty runs skin deep literally.

The masses; the brand ambassadors and the brands; all share a symbiotic relationship. It seems to be a tenacious vicious circle- wonder if there is any end to it.

As cities turn cosmopolitan and exposure to the world yonder increases; an optimistic hope takes birth.. One that believes this helpless divide will thin out eventually.

Meanwhile the Fair & Lovely’s and Emami’s will continue to make hay while the sun shines.

Banoongi mai… Miss America!

Courtesy: http://www.silive.com

Miss India must be jealous. After all, her days of limelight hardly lasted a couple of newsprint columns and a few slots in the evening news. She definitely did not make it to everyone’s Facebook pages. Thankfully no racial slurs made their way to her but wait! Hold on a minute. Says who those comments mean any harm? Especially in Apna Des? Remember Big Brother a few years ago? All the racism did was bounce the then Miss Shetty back onto Page 3.

Why should things be any different now? India has already begun her sympathy vote. We have always been partial in our treatment towards our “Firang betas and betis" haven’t we? Err... it does depend on how glamorous the achievement mind you (Click here to know what I mean). I say, why should anything be different now? The stage is setting up, the newspapers and social media are testimony to this. Felicitations must be being debated right now; I am sure our Netas will not be letting us down. They never do right?

Miss India must be worried as well. Wonder if she is having sleepless nights right now. All those advertising campaigns, modeling offers and Bollywood scripts. ..Will they come her way now? Only time can tell.

For now scoot over Miss India, make way... Miss America is here!

Of Sense and Nonsensability

Courtesy: zcool.com.cn

What does “MS” in “MS Word” mean? Think am off the rocker, eh? Don’t… it is indeed an innocent question stemming from worldly ignorance…

It all started with Bhaskar and me deciding to take a coffee break on a lazy Friday afternoon. We were thinking of beginning the weekend early but lady luck had other plans for us. Just as we began browsing through the movie shows with the rest of the gang we heard a bellowing sound. Praveen, one of the managers we worked with hissed into our ears making us jump out of our skin. “I have been looking for you two all day, where have you been?” That being more a rhetoric, he continued- “There is a strategic presentation that needs to be shipped out ASAP and no one but you two can do the job! There has been a special request to get you’ll to work on this!” We did not miss the genuine fakeness in his flattery, something we had learnt to recognize; “Btw”, Praveen added; “Veena will be working with you on this tonight, I have asked Muthu the designer to hang around too”.

Muthu was a good friend but Veena a complete stranger. We wondered how this manager would be… smart? Arrogant? A delegator?... nothing we imagined could have prepared us for the onslaught that followed.

We returned to our desks to find Veena impatiently waiting. Before we could introduce ourselves she took off “ I am stretched for bandwidth and…”  Bhaskar tried to interject; her displeasure was all to be seen on her already frowning face. “We have to blow the clients away and you have to help me do it!” she cut him. We stared after her open-mouthed as she swaggered out of our bay area.

Shaking our heads we sat down to create the slides. Muthu was working his magic, bringing our points to life using his gift for colours when Veena appeared out of nowhere to “supervise” what we were doing. Mind you she was quite stretched for bandwidth to work with us; after all talking on the phone does take up time doesn’t it?

She (thankfully) ignored us this time and walked straight up to where Muthu was seated. The awestruck look on her face told us that she had never seen graphics in the works before.  “Muthu! This is so beautiful! How did you do this??” Like a school kid excited by the sight of a candy she exclaimed. Muthu happened to be working in Word at that moment. He turned around and said very matter-of-factly “this is just MS Word Veena”.  Veena looked very thoughtful and then seemed to have a Eureka moment “I know what Word is! ... But... but... what is this new thing MS Word??? Is this a new tool in the market used to make such graphics?? It must be!” She said with a smug look on her face.

There was a moment of silence; we stared at each other... Muthu looked like he was struck by the Confundus Charm. Bhaskar and I were trying hard to keep a straight face but he lost the battle and burst out into what seemed like a concoction of a giggle, a snort, a laugh and a cough. Veena immediately turned around sensing something to be wrong. Not understanding what was going on she yelled “Do you want to say something Bhaskar? Come to the conference room next to my cabin, I don’t like doing this in public, we can do it in private!” That was the last straw; both Muthu and I burst out laughing uncontrollably making Veena leave in a huff and turning Bhaskar red with embarrassment.  It took a while for us to get a control over ourselves and get back to work.

An hour later we shipped out the presentation and called it a day; but Veena was nowhere to be seen. As we stepped out, one of our friends called lamenting over us missing the movie and some Friday evening fun... It didn't matter much... after all we did have our share of entertainment... didn't we? ;-)

Through a Goan’s Lens

Miramar Beach

Probably the most favoured tourist destination, Goa is more often than not looked upon as the perfect gateway… for friends to celebrate, newly married couples to honeymoon, stressed out office colleagues, enthusiastic HR teams working on overdrive to develop team building exercises, you name the occasion, the solution is usually a trip to Goa.

Soaking in that feeling of freshness and rejuvenation, that enlivening experience of a place so different from your regular Indian “shehar” where days are not driven by traffic jams and local train timings, where you bring in the evenings with molten sunsets and the quiet rustle of the coconut palms that dot the Arabian coastline. No wonder Goa is a spot to be ticked off every escaping reveler’s map.

It makes me break into a smile when I witness the craze everyone has for this western state, the ooohs and the awwwws that I get when they hear where I hail from. They think the world of this place, a never ending crush for some, an affair for many… those who have visited with triumphant glee and a longing to do it again… those who haven’t with a strong sense of jealousy and urge to plan their next vacation there. Vacations could not get anymore blissful now…could they?

Through this torrid love affair I wonder if anyone takes a minute to look around to give the locals a thought, those very locals whose hospitality they enjoy….to wonder what they feel about these frequent escapades…

Goans are a relaxed and friendly lot, they love having visitors over to whom they can proudly show off their land’s abundance, their friendly nature makes them extremely accommodating too… yet sometimes things happen that cross their tolerance levels, however high they may be.

Litter on the roads and beaches, plastics suffocating those wavy palms, indecent behavior along the golden and silver sands, obscenity and most common of all drunken behavior any time of the day… any time of the night… truly 24X7.

Yes, Goa is a place where one can let loose… be free…but does that mean one takes the place for granted just because the locals are nice enough not to openly protest or comment? - There is a thin line of difference between revelry and taking liberty, a line that gets crossed more often than not.

Men, dressed in ensembles typically worn in the privacy of one’s homes, found fallen along the country side at 2PM in the afternoon with beer bottles for company do not make a pretty sight anywhere. Nobody enjoys watching women dressed in barely anything gallivanting around regardless of the place (read places of worship, public places etc.) or the time of the day. One wonders if the lot is held so fiercely captive back in their hometowns, that all sense of decency and courtesy are shed in gay abandon. Nothing else could explain the blatant lewd behavior many tourists display on the beaches, as if they haven’t laid their eyes on the fairer sex before. God forbid she turns out to be a westerner soaking in some sun at a beach! Empty packets of chips, groundnut shells… beer bottles, however hard one tries it is impossible to see how they add to the landscape that everyone seem to feverishly gravitate to.

With time the helpless deterioration of the state has become all the more blatant.  Turn the pages of history and you can see the difference from the fifties and sixties to today.

All said and done Tourism is and always will be one of the main factors that drive economic growth for Goa. Goans will always welcome tourists with open arms despite the pain that is many a times unknowingly inflicted onto them… for they know the love for their home land is genuine, they just fervently wish that the love would be accompanied with a feeling of respect, accountability and commitment as well… that there would be an urge to keep Goa clean and pristine so that everyone can enjoy and love its treasures for posterity..

If this wish were to be granted it would warm the cockles of every goan heart for sure…

What’s cooking?

Coutesy: http://foodathonindia.blogspot.in

The Oil sizzles and smokes awaiting the raciness of its dear old friend. In no time does the onion join...making the oil squeal with delight as both dance away turning the world into a wonderful shade of pink.  More friends join to add their own colour to the frenzy…The juicy carrot, the slim and trim bean and the slightly overweight capsicum. Not to be left behind the perfectly rounded pea jumps into the medley.

In the riot of colours something seems amiss... The air is soon filled with a loud crackle as the block breaks and plunges into the vegetables. The silver foil packet is not to be left behind. It sprinkles its content over the block, sending a mouth watering aroma wafting around. A sudden gush of water makes them all jump as they get drenched and happily boil away.

A hungry pair of eyes eagerly watches as the clock chimes away… breaking into a big broad smile when it ticks 120 times signaling the end of the endless two minutes wait.

Journey of a Lifetime

When two friends take the marriage vows, their friends become a part of their family. The day Pradeep and I decided to take the plunge, my friends and his friends became our friends… our family grew.

The route

Over the years we have traveled to many places, explored different locales and had many tales to tell…however the one tale that we never tire off and wish we could do over and over again is our road trip across Illinois, Wisconsin, Michigan and Indiana- much like the (LMCT) circle tour, only, done the other way around. A trip made of precious moments that we would want to relive with our friends and family

A road trip covering 2000 miles in two nights and three days meant early starts and lots of driving, the very essence of the tour.

At the crack of dawn, as the orange haze of the horizon wiped away the darkness and the morning star greeted good morning, we set off reminiscing the days of our B School life when we would look forward to this view after a sleepless night of group discussions and case studies. Stopping for a breakfast of steaming hot coffee and sizzling omelets was the perfect start to the day.

Corn Fields

The early morning solitude of the otherwise busy Chicago was pleasing but nothing compared to the fresh air and morning breeze that greeted us once we hit the countryside… miles and miles of rolling corn fields were our silent companions as we drove along.

I navigated the map as Pradeep drove on.  We had intentionally decided not to use the GPS nor had made any plans of sight seeing stops; our idea was to take things as they come and experience what life threw back at us. The beauty of a road trip lies in experiencing the different stops and unexpected turns, getting lost and squealing with delight as we find our way back on to the never ending roads.

Our first stop was Pictured Rocks in Munising Michigan. We took the cruise out into Lake Superior to view what the boards described as a geological delight. Cruising through the largest fresh water lake by surface area in the world and viewing the magic sandstone had created over centuries was mind blowing to say the least. These rocks were eroding caverns with mineral stained caves that led to a plethora of colors to be displayed all along the cliffs.

Pictured Rocks

We watched the formations and marveled at Mother Nature’s creations as a sudden shower from the “spray” waterfall hit us. We looked up instantly only to get awed by the dense green forests dropping abruptly into the pristine blue of the lake. After spending hours at the rocks, we turned back heading for the hotel in Escanaba (Michigan) which would be our halt for the night. As we neared the hotel we found a tiny diner where we stopped to taste the local version of burgers and fries.

The next morning we were up before the sun rose and were on our way as the first rays hit the ground.  The early morning bliss was an experience we had fast learnt not to miss. The journey was getting more picturesque with tiny waterfalls dotting the landscape all over. We made quite a few stops before heading to an Island we had heard about from many- Mackinac, where no modern fuel supported form of transport was allowed except for a fire engine and an ambulance. The ferry ride to Mackinac lasted 30 minutes; on reaching we were offered horses and bicycles to commute around.

This was one of the most unique places we had visited. Absolutely no sign of pollution except for the stray smell of horse litter. This island was a nature lover’s delight. After we spent the rest of the day exploring the village, buying curios and admiring nature’s abundance, we headed back on the last ferry and drove towards our halt for the second night (at Muskegon, Michigan) to watch the July 4^th fireworks.

Mackinac Island

By 3 PM our resolution not to stop anywhere had begun to waver as a desperate need for some coffee took over. The nearest food stop was twenty miles away; we had almost given up when we came across an exit for a town called Cadillac. Pradeep decided to take a detour confident that we would come across a café in the town.

Cadillac gave us the most memorable moments that we would cherish for the rest of our lives. The town seemed to be living in the yester years; it had that classical look about it. The market place seemed to be closed for a siesta, not a soul could be seen around. At last we found a light glowing across the street, we opened the door and entered the coziest café we had ever been to. The walls were covered with beautiful pictures and figurines that we couldn't get our eyes off.

Cadillac

We picked our coffee and spent a few minutes sipping despite the clock ticking away. After ten minutes we dragged ourselves out and headed back towards the highway. Engrossed in admiring the town we lost our way and took a wrong turn only to arrive at the other end of the town that was bordered by water end to end. It was one of the most beautiful sights we had ever seen. Mesmerized, we parked the car and let our legs carry us to the waterfront. Sparkling blue waters sweetly gurgled and danced around our feet. We looked around to see a bench that seemed to have stepped straight out of a book cover just for us to perch on. We sat silently watching the view… losing track of time.., leaving all our worries and tensions behind… feeling one with nature. As we watched the water turn a shade of orange and then red, we were hit by the realization of time. Breaking out of the magical hypnosis Nature had put us under; we reluctantly drove off, glancing behind every now and then till the bench became a speck in the distance as if it has disappeared back onto the book cover.

It was an ironic finish to the day that had us experience a human attempt to reduce pollution, the serenity that Cadillac offered and end it watching a splendid but smoky firework display that lasted quite a few hours. I suppose we win some and lose some to maintain the balance of life.

Holland

On our final morning we started off intending to stop at Holland, a Dutch settlement in Michigan. When we entered the village we felt we had left the states behind and traveled to Europe. The people, the tulips, the windmills... everything changed the aura of the place giving us a peek into a completely different culture. After a learning tour of Dutch culture we were invited to experience a dance ritual. After watching the dancers tap their traditional wooden shoes to the soulful folklore we left making just one stop to purchase a few reminders of the place.

It was early evening when we left Holland; with an eye on the clock we started our journey to Chicago hoping to beat the long weekend traffic heading towards the windy city. By the time we hit Indiana; we dropped all ideas of visiting the Indianapolis Grand Prix circuit that we had thought we would check out. We joined hundreds of other cars snailing their way towards Chicago… all but we seemed frustrated with the traffic… we were busy smiling away, already reminiscing the beautiful evening spent at Cadillac.

By night we reached home tired and exhausted but with a chest full of precious memories and stories that would enthrall our grandchildren someday…

Our trip turned three years old this July but the memories are still fresh, so is the urge to do a similar trip again, this time with our friends. In today’s busy world when we hardly have time for ourselves, taking some time out to relive our times with friends, experiencing life and all the unexpected turns and stops it makes just like we did on the trip… take those impulsive decisions that make memories of a lifetime like we did at Cadillac… to strengthen our friendship with those joyous moments that are made at the most unexpected places on such a trip. Life is a journey where no one knows what is in store for us at the next turn; a road trip such as this would be like a gift to live life to the fullest with our near and dear ones.

Quick Travel Tip : The described road trip can be arranged through www.Yatra.com .  It would require flight bookings to Chicago and back, hotel bookings and car rental bookings for the duration of the trip. Similar road trips can be arranged within India and other locations across the globe through packages from www.Yatra.com .

A matter of sincerity?

In early July P ordered a set of nested tables from a popular online furniture store. The delivery date was set as July 26th and the matter was forgotten.

Courtesy: www.conversationagent.com

A week later, P was asked to make an immediate business trip overseas while I had to shuttle in an out of Bangalore for a few days. We soon realized that neither would be at home on 26th so we promptly wrote to the customer care asking for a change in delivery address and contact number (to mine). Despite multiple follow ups, there was no response. Finally knowing the store was quite active on social media channels we resorted to writing on their face book page. We got a response within seconds of posting the message that surely the mistake was on our end and their response might have landed in the junk folder. The speed at which we received the response made us wonder whether the customer service agent responding to the message had taken time out to look up our mail at all, nevertheless we patiently checked our junk messages feeling no sense of achievement on finding it empty. It took us more than a few seconds (well, obviously) to respond. A few minutes later we got a response saying our mail had landed in their junk folder and hence slipped their attention! Thankfully they put an end all the junkiness and acknowledged the changes we had asked for.

Once again the matter was forgotten.

It was 31st when I happened to glance at the calendar only to realize that 26th had come and gone but there had been no delivery. I checked my phone logs to see if I had missed any call. To cover all grounds I checked with P if he had received any email. When both checks turned out negative I called up customer care.

The lady who picked up my call requested for 30 minutes to gather information regarding the status. I was a bit taken aback by the request since she had already accessed my order details with the confirmation number I had provided; shouldn't the status have been updated there? I decided to give her the benefit of doubt and asked her to call back on my number. 

An hour passed by but my phone stayed silent. I picked up the phone and called again, thankfully the same executive picked up. She recognized my voice at once and said she had been trying to reach me on the original number on the order (that belonged to P). I tried explaining to her that we had asked for a change in number and I had repeated it to her on our previous call. After making a few attempts I gave up. By now I wanted to just get done with resolving the problem. She continued that the delivery team had tried reaching us over phone but our number was switched off. No guesses now for which number they had tried! Patiently I tried reminding her (again) that the number was updated along with the address and the latter had been updated. Why would they leave the number out? If the number issue was ignored for a moment, they could have contacted us on the email address? - I queried?

That was the trigger for her. She started of saying she would be honest with me and went on to tell the coordination issues they were facing with the delivery team. How the delivery team did not always check the order detail updates nor update the order status for customer service team’s reference.

I tried telling her that she need not expose their internal problems to the customer, rather just acknowledge the issue (miscommunication) and work on resolving it. Making the customer privy to internal issues will not always paint a good image abut the brand I said. She kept insisting that she wanted to be honest with me and continued narrating their problem.

Finally I managed to get my issue resolved and the delivery was done the next day.

Was she right in being honest about the internal inefficiencies that caused the delay? Should she have dealt with the situation differently keeping in mind that she was representing her store and that responsibility made her accountable for their brand value as well?

Is honesty always the best policy?

The Remains of the Day

I fell in love all over again. That feeling of losing myself into a world so beautifully painted by another, the feeling of happiness just reminiscing over those classic words that seem to have etched themselves into my memory for ever. Yes, I have fallen in love… with Kazuo Ishiguro’s “The Remains of the Day”. This is a story of an ageing butler, his memories and perspectives spread across two different eras in the English history.

Courtesy: Good Reads

This is a story of two individuals falling quietly in love, never to express their feelings. Last but not the least; this is a story of English culture and the changes it undergoes between the two wars. Kazuo Ishiguro’s play with words paints a vivid picture of how life was and how it has changed post the war through the eyes of Stevens the butler. Darlington hall, the manor at which he was the butler is bought by an Englishman Mr. Farraday post the war and demise of Lord Darlington. 

The change in ownership brings about a transformation in the way the Manor is managed and to a large extent wipes away a large number of English customs that were followed thus causing a certain degree of regret and discomfort for Stevens. At the persistence of his new master, Stevens undertakes a vacation (unheard of for butlers) to travel across the West Country on the pretext of requesting Mrs. Kenton the erstwhile housekeeper to return and resume her duties. 

What starts as a simple travel to experience the English country side and meet Mrs. Kenton soon turns into a journey of self discovery, realization of love, acknowledgment of the changing times and most importantly of understanding that there is always something to look forward to even when one is past his prime in his profession and times have changed. There is much one can do in the remains of the day…after all as Ishiguro puts it, the evening is the best part of the day. This is a book vibrating with optimism and the goodness of life despite the rough motions it puts us through. If this book were a dream, I would never want to wake up.

The Death Instinct

After a long time I picked up a fiction suspense thriller to snuggle up with. Authored by Jed Rubenfeld, this is his second piece after “The Interpretation of Murder”.

Courtesy: TLC Books

The book revolves around the 1920 Wall Street bombing which till date has remained unresolved. Using the bombing as the central theme, Rubenfeld weaves different stories into the book. When the bomb goes off a redhead is found with her head severed, a security guard with a gold ingot clutched tightly in his hand and bullet marks on the wall of JP Morgan. Each clue leads to a story of its own, converging in the end to form a cohesive finale. Each story uses facts to strengthen the plot; be it Sigmund Freud's psychoanalysis principles on war neurosis or historical facts such as the movement of gold on Wall Street at the time of the bombing.

Throughout the book, Rubenfeld reflects two primary emotions- the world being an ambiguous place to be in and that love does not conquer all. What emerges from these two conclusions is the existence of the ‘Death Instinct”. A passion for destruction that is as fundamental as that for love.  This emotion is again cemented by Freud’s theory on the same topic (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_drive )

A wonderful amalgamation of facts and fiction makes this book a page turner and hard to keep down till you have devoured it till the end.

Now, I cant wait to get my hands on “the Interpretation of Murder”.

This book has been reviewed at

Good Reads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/8536672-the-death-instinct

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/The-Death-Instinct-A-Novel/dp/1594485607

Nothing lasts forever…

It pains to watch the news these days. Images and video clips of the devastation in Uttarakhand seem to be occupying all real estate available. Orphaned children, landslides and bits and pieces of houses floating in the rivers don’t seem to make Mother Nature’s fury lose some intensity. These images of the religious northern state try to wash away those beautiful memories that were formed just a month ago…

A vacation meant visiting a place that would take us away from the chaos of our workplace and the madness of our daily routines, this year the quest for a perfect vacation took us to Auli, a beautiful town in northern Uttarakhand.

Dev Prayag

Our journey to Auli meant meandering through countless Himalayan mountain peaks, listening to Alaknanda, Bhagirathi and Ganga happily gurgle as they danced their way down the mountains, meeting occasionally at various Prayags…the confluences of the rivers, splashing different shades of blue and green across the Himalayan canvas.

If the sheer beauty of the journey was not overwhelming enough, the spectacular sight on reaching Auli left us speechless. The magnificent Nandadevi or the majestic Neelkanth, they all humbled us with their overpowering presence. Smoldering sunrises and melting sunsets adorned the mountains everyday.

Melting Sunset

Sudden sprinkles of rain showers gave rise to carpets of colorful wildflowers along the mountain side. Trekking up these mountains and experiencing nature from such close depth added certain freshness to our days there.

The Mountain side

This abundance of natural beauty seemed to have rubbed off on the locals as well. Having been in the mountains, they lived a simple life, some earning their livelihood through terrace farming while others with tourism and running what were popularly known as Gharwali Dhabas.

One such Dhaba and its owner left their mark on us. Bhandariji added his gharwali charm to our stay. His Dhaba was located just outside our resort and guests like us were his main source of income.

The Sun God is most kind on those who dwell up high in the mountains thus the blazing heat we experience in the rest of the country is unknown to these areas. A pleasant weather with the occasional chill during summer and icy cold winters ensured that Bhandariji’s “garam chai”, “pakodas” and “Maggi” sales don’t taper down much. However his sales might be, we always found him smiling, perched on a stool outside his Dhaba that doubled up as his home as well.

The Dhaba

A few days into our stay, while sipping some hot sweet tea, we casually asked him if we could get some authentic gharwali food in and around Auli. Bhandariji broke into a big broad smile and requested us to let him serve us lunch the next day.

Sharp at noon, we arrived at his Dhaba, mouth watering aromas of Aloo Paranthas and Rajma Chawal engulfed us as we perched ourselves on to the only furniture available - Bhandariji’s bed and a few plastic stools. With great eagerness and love he served us food in the limited plates that he had. It was by far the best Rajma Chawal we had ever had. The fact that he cooked for six of us with just the two vessels he had on a rickety old stove only added more flavor to the most lip smacking meal we had during our stay.

Good things come in small packages; our vacation was but a week long. We bid adieu to Bhandariji and the rest, to return to the monotonous craze of our daily lives…we returned to our crazy schedules but something had changed. Auli and people like Bhandariji had given us a new perspective, taught us to value life a tad bit more...

The clock chimes nine signaling the start of primetime news. Those gruesome images once again make their way into my mind, trying to wipe off those everlasting memories with present day reality…

I stubbornly hold on to them, firmly believing that someday Uttarakhand will hobble back to normalcy…someday  Bhandariji and all those hapless souls will get back what has been snatched from them…someday life will be what it was always meant to be.

Someday….

Coming back to life...

They have been my companions all throughout. My conversations with them would last 12-14 hours every day. Weekends and holidays too had lost their meaning. Wasted was the time that I spent without them, eager was I to return back to that world ….or so I felt.

A lot did occur which should have made me read the signs... getting distanced from the closest friend I ever had to losing a parent.  They all left an everlasting mark on me. Hurt it did, but all the pain did was push me more into the only world I had come to know…or I thought I knew.

It took me nine long years to take a pause and look back at life...  life as I had made it to be. Endless hours spent on conference calls, presentations; excel sheets, word documents and visio diagrams. Precious time spent on doing something I had no appreciation or passion for.  I tried to unearth memories of friends and family that would make me not feel so guilty; there were a few, drowning in the ocean of emptiness. It shook me out of an oblivion that I had not realized I was in…

Strings had snapped leaving gaping holes but many had stubbornly stayed put…loosened they might have but nevertheless hung on. I silently sent up a prayer thanking the almighty for their obstinate behavior…

If only I could turn back the clock to the days I now yearn for… if only…

It was time to change things for the good, spend my time enjoying every minute of my existence, doing what I love to do…it was time to secure those loosened strings and bring back life into my life..

It was time to take that first baby step and I did…I quit.

“I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life”

                                                                                --Pink Floyd

31st Dec 2009

I wonder how I didn’t notice it before. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, 2009 had come to a close.
When I look back, my memory gives away. It gets harder and harder to recall how many waves actually made it to my shore- just a few…. leaves me with a bitter taste in my mouth.
I fervently pray for a tempest this New Year, a tempest with a fury causing unlimited waves to crash against the shore and make me want for more…
I can feel it brewing already, the mind is laden with grey clouds waiting to burst...The only question is when….

Bring on 2010!

Déjà vu?

Sunny beaches enveloped by clear skies, surrounded by sparkling blue waters with a spectacular sunrise heralding in the new day...

Dashes of raindrops and stray rainbows keeping me company as time lazes by and the palms sway along...
Tiny shops sprinkled around the beaches spring to life overwhelming me with their wares- dresses, beads, corals, pearls and shell jewelry...What does tear me away is the aromatic smell of fish, crabs and shrimps making me blindly walk towards the numerous shacks lacing the sands...

A lazy lunch followed by a brief siesta...
What more could one ask for i think...Just as the sun begins to melt the sky and the cruise takes off with locals filling the air with their folklore…

With nightfall come the stars weaving their presence onto the sky... and another day ends in the Hawaiian paradise….giving me the feeling of home away from home...

Making me miss Goa a little less than I usually do…

Kabuli Chana Soup

Sounds interesting eh?

Get a packet of Knorr's Punjabi Chana Masala and just follow the instructions on the back of the packet, you'll get your chana soup, i promise you wont be disappointed!

And my pen refuses to budge…

Courtesy: all-free-download.com (Anna Langova)

My stares turn into frowns and my eyes glisten with anger but it still doesn't oblige. I don’t seem to exist anymore…

Nothing I do seems to change its mind. It sits there all stiff and stubborn next to its partner crime- my unused writing pad…

The two have gather dust I see, an inch too thick to be called recent… not to mention the rusty layer which adorns the inky tip…

They seem raring to go but won’t move an inch…Why? - I ask myself over and again until it dawns…

They fail to recognize this workaholic who stares at them as if they were her own…

They eagerly await their owners return…

Glimpses of the road which veins through the IT corridor...

the abode of software giants...the reasons behind our flourishing economy...

Once again....Tagged!!!

Ok courtesy wooster here i am back to doing my bit in preserving a tagged chain :)

1. I think wayyyyy to much. Have a wild wild (growl growl) imagination which usually makes me invent absurd stories all the time :p
2. I eat to live and not live to eat..as long as it isnt sweet that its :P
3. I insist on wearing the right colour combination at all times. I hate to be caught wearing something odd.
4. I love writing. it desciplines my life..
5. I dont have a sweet tooth. Given a chance I could wipe off the existence of Cakes, Pastries, Icecreams and Chocs :P
6. Sarcasm is one of my best weapons. It hurts... trust me..
7. I talk. period. :D
8. A cleanliness freak, i am the "Friends" Monica in the making.

Phew! these random thoughts sure did take me a while...!
now here is a list of the chosen 8...


Darji
Jhol
Anand
Karen
Abhi
Manish
Vineet
Puneet

and here are the rules!

Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
People who are tagged, write a blog post about their own 8 random things, and post these rules.
At the end of your post you need to tag 8 people and include their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment and tell them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
If you fail to do this within eight hours, you will not reach Third Series or attain your most precious goals for at least two more lifetimes.

"Kalam is willing if ‘love and affection’ can get votes"

screams the headlines on Indian Express today.

Wonder whose love and affection he is talking about... the Left's? the NDA's? definetely not the UPA's!!..or maybe even theirs??? hehehehe....

tickled my funny bone to the core :P

Three Incidents…

I was performing my morning ritual of walking down canal bank road on my way to Madhya Kailash. It was one hell of a dirty walk today. The rain gods has showered their blessings on "drainage less" Madras the night before. .

Anyways getting back to my story, I was hopping and jumping down the road doing my best to avoid the slush and dirt which had made its way in overnight.

As I crossed the “Kasturba Nagar Vegetable Market” I came across a vegetable vendor dutifully cleaning his cart. Ah! Now wasn’t that a pleasant sight to see! How many of us get to see vegetable vendors with clean carts? But this Anna was doing exactly that. As I drew closer I noticed what he was actually doing.

He was cleaning the card and shoving all the plastics and polyethylene bags onto the already dirty road.

Perfect example of “I might love Madras but you keep it clean!”

I moved on taking the immediate left still ruminating about what I had just seen. Before I knew it I had reached the newly built Kasturba Nagar station. (This station serves as a shortcut to Madhya Kailash)

I entered the station only to be drenched by what seemed like a rain shower. I looked up to see thousands of water pellets on the station ceiling. The entire ceiling was wet. Did I mention that the station has just been built?

This wasn’t the end of it. Once out of the station I got into the bus and was on my way to Navalur via Tidel Park. Now the Tidel park- Thiruvanmiyur junction is victim to traffic jams every other day. Today seemed one of those. We were the first in queue waiting for the Traffic Policeman to give the green signal. Along with us the traffic proceeding towards Madhya Kailash from Thiruvanmiyur was also kept waiting. All except one stopped. A Lady, riding a scooty tried to shoot ahead of the traffic only to be pulled back by the policeman. What followed was a strong argument between the two. Seemingly educated either she had an eyesight problem and couldn’t see the red signal or she didn’t know what it meant.

Whatever it was, she and the vegetable vendor made me realize how tough it is to change Indian mentality.

An Eventful morning it was today...

A Page from My Diary

It is hard to imagine, yet I make another futile attempt at it.

“The Goa Regional Plan” So the news article proclaims.

Is it that impractical to visualize? I wonder…

An instant image of the place forms in my mind. Sun kissed beaches and sparkling blue waters, with tiny towns, villages and cities sprinkled all over-A beautiful image formed from age-old memories, deep rooted in my goan heart.

A new thought tries to make way on to the canvas of my memories. A thought crowded with IT parks and concrete jungles. I try hard to fight it off. It resists. I want to fight back…. losing this struggle would mean the beginning of the end of a certain mystique that weaves its spell around this place. I am forced to let it stay…

Can this thought exist in harmony with my invaluable memories? Would these pieces fit in like those of a jigsaw puzzle?

I doubt…

It is impossible to wipe out memories that have been collected over decades, memories so unlike all others. Amongst these treasures of mine, precious thoughts of the city that I was born and brought up in stand out the most. A city nested in a picturesque island’s greenery, characterized by Portuguese styled houses interspersed with low lying buildings, cobbled streets zigzagging their way through.

Single lane roads with a few rarely used signals were all that Panaji had, and still has. I would step out on the street only to be greeted by vibrant waves and big wide grins. Everything was located at a stone’s throw distance-The Panaji Market, Mahalakshmi Temple, Church Square, St. Inez Church, everything. I have never known Panaji to have had more than one or two tiny sari shops, couple of book stores, and two ‘pharmacias’ Most of these owned by a neighbour, a family friend, or some school friend.The city was known for its relaxed lifestyle and afternoon siestas. Easygoing weekdays ended in leisurely weekends. Come Sunday and Panaji would resemble a deserted township. Shutters down, not a single soul to be seen on the roads.

Everything about the place was unique. The “Poder” heralding in the new morning with his Pomp Pomp followed by the Nustekaan’ and her “Sungtan, Bangde Jayge” chants making me tug at my mother’s saari asking her to buy it all.

From the Konkani “Kantaara” and the “Dhaalo”, “Pink Panther” and “Tiger” the lovingly named private buses which plied on the Panaji-Dona Paula route to the soothing sound of the waves hitting against the Miramar shore …each thought with a new story to unfold.

These memories make me smile; the picture looks so colorful with all the images painted with my thoughts as the paintbrush. It’s a blissful feeling.

Suddenly the brush goes awry. A dark threatening grey appears on the canvas making my vibrant colors fade.

The grey deepens, creating sketches of malls, departmental stores, and swanky cars snaking in and out of the ever growing traffic. It leaves me shaken.

I helplessly watch as each sun kissed beach turns into a Juhu Chowpatti. It doesn’t stop at this. More grey makes its way on to my canvas. The tiny stores and the lush green fields give way to towering multiplexes and apartment complexes Myriads of strangers fill up the tiny cobbled streets, leaving me with the feeling of being just another face in the no longer goan crowd.

The thoughts have grown in number; each sniggering maliciously making me feel powerless. The sound is deafening. I gather all my memories and hide them away lest I loose them.

It pains me as I watch my freshly painted picture wash away.

I give in…These thoughts are here to stay…They make me want to sigh in defeat.A triumphant moment for the industry developers it might be, but for the goan in me it’s a never-ending moment of melancholy.

Life would never be the same again…

“Poder”- the baker. The name originates from the Portuguese days.

“Nustekaan”- Fisherwoman

“Kantaara”-Konkani Songs

"Dhaalo“ – Goan Folk Dance

Thou shall know the truth and nothing but the truth

Courtesy: www.zcool.com.cn

What do Engineering graduates from India do post their graduation?

A)MBA

B)MS

C)A Job

No this is not Derek O’Brien interrogating you unnecessarily nor am I SRK flaunting of the new KBC look. It’s just me thinking aloud.

I would say all three options take an equal share of the pie, but the ones pursuing their Masters be it an MBA or an MS are the ones who get the royal “Oh Wow” treatment. Between the two The US M.S definitely takes the cake.

In India I see engineers doing their MS in the US to be looked at with revere- the senior population are proud of their “climbing the success ladder betas and betis” while their contemporaries look at them, hearts filled with jealousy and envy. After all, going to the US has been termed as the big achievement-managed only by the crème de la crème for many Indians generations now. I was convinced too…until I came to the US.

My US corporate experience as a consultant from an IT offshore vendor to publishing companies has led to a number of over the coffee table conversations with my client side counterparts. One such conversation with P left me feeling disgusted and reproachful.

P decided to play “Spot 10 differences in the picture” game with me that day, the only difference being she had sheets to play with and not pictures. I thought it would be fun and eagerly took the sheets from her. “Ok make that 5 differences and ill take you out for lunch tomorrow” said P. I flashed my “you love me don’t you” smile and turned to the sheets.

Much to my surprise all sheets were spectacularly similar. 2 in fact had the same spelling mistakes. (P had gone the extra length to highlight all)

5 differences? It was hard to fine a single one for crying out loud I thought! All the resumes were so similar. Yes they were resumes.

I turned to P with a puzzled and lost Prof Calculus look on my face. Why do you have so many copies of the same resume I asked? She laughed. The gigantic P laugh which leaves you with a sinking “it’s going to be a looong coffee break” feeling.

“These are the resumes of 5 candidates that I just got from the headhunting agency” said P.

P and her team had just fired a Business Analyst the week before. A Business Analyst who apparently had 7 years of work experience but was yet to figure out what analysis meant. After using me as her punching bag to vent out all her frustrations she called the head hunter and asked him to call the BA back (recruits made through a headhunter cannot be fired directly. The message is sent to him/her through the head hunter).

Guess P was on the prowl for a BA again I thought.

“You know R left right? We need a BA but not someone whose work we have to do!” she started off.

“Ok so these are resumes that you have received for a BA position from the head hunter, but why are they so similar” I asked her.

“You have hit the nail on the head Seeda” she said giving me that rare “I’m proud of you” look. (I turn Seeda from Seeta while I am in the US in case you are wondering about the sudden change in name. Nothing intentional about it mind you :D)

They are all fake don’t you see? Some of them have the same spelling mistakes, the same sentence repeated across resumes. Jeez! I interviewed one candidate over the phone today. He had a few things listed out on his resume. So I thought I would ask him about them. I asked him what “Gap Analysis” was, and he goes “tap tap tap” on his keyboard and recites the definition of Gap Analysis which you get on entering “Define: Gap Analysis” in Google! I did it to actually confirm what he was reciting!” Sense seemed to prevail 20 minutes into the call and he started hitting “Mute” on his phone each time I asked him a question” P seemed to have been waiting all day to meet her punching bag and pour out all her irritation.

“Tell me how is that all these 5 candidates have been working for American Express, Merill Lynch and Lehman Brothers??”

All she expected from her punching bag was a nod of the head. Little did she know how disgusted I was feeling right then…

“There were 2 girls I spoke to” she said. They sounded ok so I called them over for a quick chat today. We asked the first one to write out some requirements and she gives us a paper with gibberish written all over, the second one was honest enough to admit though that some projects mentioned on her resume were projects she didn’t “necessarily” work on.” I wouldn’t fake my resume in a million years! What did they do in their MS? But why would they care, they get the money and that’s all that matters” bellowed P.

The thought had crossed my mind too but I was too ashamed to react. I stared at the resumes in my hand. The bold italicized “M.S” stared back at me.

Needless to say all were Indian.

Long Live Racism!

Being in the US somehow gets me much closer to India than ever before. The homesickness is marked by a daily visit to most off the popular news sites (read NDTV.com, Rediff.com and Indianexpress.com)

Like everyday I sat down with a cup of Mocha Nut Fudge (Yeah Yeah you start using all these fancy names for a plain simple cup of coffee here) glasses tipping off my nose, awaiting the familiar NDTV 24*7 and Indian express with all its advertisement pop ups to pop up on my laptop. Today unlike most other days, both sites seem to have the same headline splashed over- just that Indian Express decided to be a bit more personal about it.

“Shilpa wins ‘Celebrity Big Brother’ “Atta Girl! I would have said had it not been for the Racism Hungama which has been looming large over “our” shilpa for the last few days.

Reading the articles made me wonder what kind of damage had this so called Racism actually done to shilpa, India or for that matter the show itself. As a matter of fact none.

Shilpa had only benefited and India had nothing really to do with the whole “Tamasha”. As far as the show goes the producers must have never dreamt in their wildest dreams that increasing viewer ship to millions within a week was an achievable target. Though I must confess watching politicians scurrying around trying to be at their diplomatic best, the show hitting the top headlines of the day, “Anti Racism” signature campaigns being held did make me wonder whether this was the beginning of world war III or whether the Media and Politicians really had nothing better to cover and worry about.

Meanwhile what happened to the one who had to tolerate all the racist slurs and comments those big bad ladies spat out at her?

As of today the racism victim has made her way up most popularity charts, hired UK’s top notch publicist to manage her international work, won sympathy from hundreds of thousands across continents and has been crowned to the Big Brother throne

What more could an actress who had been on her way out of the Bollywood show business ask for?

The first Indian celebrity to have ever participated and won “Big Brother”

Now isn’t that a record made? What the heck I think she deserves the compliment I was so hesitant to give her- Atta Girl Shilpa!

“11/6”

Cortesy: DragonArtz Designs

I had to get to work on 53rd Street in NYC that Monday morning.

I set off at 7:00 AM to catch the PATH to NYC. (PATH is an underground train connecting the outskirts of New Jersey with the city yonder)

It was to be a 4 minute ride across the Hudson from my station. I boarded the train expecting to be in darkness for a whole 4 minutes. That was not to be.

As we approached the Big Apple I was hit by a ray of sunlight.

It startled me. I found it hard to understand why an underground train should be out in broad daylight. Towards my right, I could see the towering buildings that Manhattan is known for. I glanced to the left expecting more of them but all i could see was a Cross surrounded by empty space….

Just as realization dawned on me, the station announcement came through- “WTC. This will be the final stop”

My train had emerged ON ground zero…

“The WTC PATH station was housed beneath the twin towers. It took almost a year to clear the debris and rebuild the station to what it is today.

After 9/11 what is left at the spot is just the PATH station surrounded by empty space”