GK Vale... Customer Service SUCKS

"A time when Maharajas and Viceroys ruled over us.
A time when hand-painted portraits were still the norm.
A time when photography was still in its infancy. "


Sounds familiar?? Yes this are the marketing lines of the famous GK Vale, the photo studio in Bangy. They also have this one other line "We were here before MK Gandhi became Mahatma Gandhi".

So one of this days, I also had the privilege of walking in to this great great store, as I wanted the photograph for my new ID card. And I needed the photo urgently. After all the shooting-footing of my photo done, I told him that I am in hurry, and it would be great if he could give me soft copy of the photo, I did not want the CD and all that jazz. And he refused point blank.

He was standing there jobless, he had digi cam with usb interface , he had a usb cable, I had a laptop, all that was required was to connect it. But No. In spite of all the arguments and requests he did not budge.

Maybe it is one of the written rules that they should not give soft copies to customers, though I dont understand the logic of this rule. But it was complete indifference that bothered me. It was like I don't care a shit about you. He almost said "If you want come after two hours and take your photographs, else F*&% Off"


Am not going to walk in to that store again. (Ofcourse I had to walk in one last time to collect my photographs, on top of that I dont like that photograph as well. )

I wanted to write this because one I got very irritated and second I wanted everyone to know about it. I do also hope that some kin of GK Vale should also read about this and he should wake up and do something about customer service.

I think next time am going to take a video on my mobile and post it on YouTube.. :D


--
Goli

Once upon a Time...

"
Once upon a time, there lived a great great sage, in the middle of the forest with all the lovely trees around him. He was a great archer. He had a beautiful wife. His wife was a great athlete... pre PT Usha types.

So as it used to happen this sage used to shoot an arrow, and then his wife used to run and get it back. That is why sage had only one arrow, because he did not need another one. He used to shoot and his wife used to run and get it back.

Now as it happened, one day his wife went after the arrow but did not come back for long. Sage was getting very worried and angry. His wife was very beautiful so he was getting suspicious. Finally very late in the evening she arrived. Sage asked her very angrily "Where have you been, it is almost night?", she said "Dont get angry at me, get angry at the sun, because it was so hot that my feet burnt, my face burnt and I got tired and fell down. Only after the sun went down I could do my work".

Not this sage got very angry. He knew that right in the middle of the day sun stopped for a second. And he said "I am going to teach a lesson to Sun, tomorrow at afternoon am going to shoot the sun down."

Having heard of this all the gods got very disturbed, because the sage was the greatest of archers and he was quite capable to shooting the sun down. So they began to worry. Next day sage took bath did his morning pooja and got ready to shoot the sun.

Gods came and requested him not to do this, because that would destroy the earth, but he was very angry "Sun has troubled my wife and am going to teach him a lesson"

That is when one of the Gods came and gave him an umbrella and a pair of slippers and he told the great sage "Instead of shooting down the sun, why dont you gift these to your wife"

That is how umbrella and slippers came in to existence.
"

I happened to attend one of the seminars of guy called Devdutt Pattaniak . This story was narrated then. Devdutt is a medical doctor by education, marketing manager by presentation and a mythologist by passion (that is what his website says). What I know about this guy is that he is a fantastic story teller. He made a two hour presentation, explaning the relevance of Mythology in todays corporate scenario. I liked the way he put the analogy, it was very new and innovative some of the things were far fetched, but it was full of all this kinds of story, that made it very pleasurable to sit up and listen to him, that too right after heavy lunch.

For example the above story says, "Instead of changing the world change yourself, or rather Adapt to changing world"

Anyways, his website has some nice interesting stories, take a peek. And keep his name in mind, next time he has a presentation somewhere please attend it.

The story of Lost shoe...

My shoe died. I dont complain, it had a fair bit of adventurous journey starting from US (my friend had got it), and it had been to sakleshpur trek and to Karwar, bombay, delhi, baroda, pune, hyderabad. The left shoe had kind of given up and I had to keep three of my left foot fingers at a particular angle else they would just come out of the shoe. And it became too embarrassing to wear it anywhere, because of the fear that the slightest stress and the figers would pop up.

So off I went yesterday with one of my friends, to great old Marathalli to buy a pair of nice shoes. After a lot of looking around at the astronomical pricing of the Reeboks and Adidas, I finally settled for one nice and cute looking Levi's canvas types of shoes. Did not cost whole lots, and was quite decent, dung colour, long shoelaces (the longest that I have seen).

It took me about ten minutes to buy the shoe, and you wont believe how much more time we took to buy a shirt for my friend, hopping from one shop to another, trying to match the colour, buttons, neck, fit, collar, sleves, print, length, fabric, texture, and dont remember what more and after two hours my friend could not find the desirable combination of all of them, and we decided to call it quits. (this shopping is another experience all together, will write about it sometime later)

Exhausted we took the rick back to go home. Wanted to go to a particular shop and it was closed, then my friend wanted to buy the cake for some birthday and wanted to buy it from Swe-chei(Sweet Chariot), and we could not locate it. It was getting late and little bit of drizzle, it was getting little chaotic but finally we just managed to locate one Swe-Chi. We were having a small debate as to who to pay the auto bill, (sometimes I act nice), I lost the debate and had to pay the bill. Got down, paid, went to shop only to realize that in all the confusion had left the shoe in the auto.

So depressed, one K, down the drain. At all these times I always feel this pinch of guilt, because I start thinking about my parents, and how they have saved each and every penny to raise us. Even ten rupess means a lot of money for them. And here I was throwing 1K, just like that, by being nothing but purely careless, there was no excuse for this. Among this big guilt thought, there were these other small thoughts emerging as to when to go again to buy the shoes, if to buy the same ones or the other pair, and how long I will have to keep wearing floaters in office which I so hate because of all the dust and mud that gets in to between my fingers. Furthermore I was embarrassed at the my declining impressions over my friend, (this was the second time it had happened, last time I had lost the helmet, and then the bike key, all on same day, but found everything).

My friend suggested that I run along the road, and look for the auto guy, but I put off that idea, because there was no point running around the road looking for a particular auto, considering that all the autos look same, and I had not paid much attention to how the auto guy looked.

Thankfully though we got the cake, but would you believe it, as soon as we were about to step out of the shop, and there on the other side there was this auto-guy, he U'ed and came to our side of road "Sir, aap bag bhool gaye", We were so happy. He even did refuse to take money for the extra round that he might have had to put. I got my shoe back (am wearing it now). The auto guy disappeared, and lost himself among other autowallahs. I absolutely like the auto guys in Bangy, they rock.

So the story of shoe ends here.

Yesterday incident really made me happy :D. It was a perfect ending to a near chaotic evening.

Robert Clive..

In one of those after lunch film making sessions, when I was feeling terribly sleepy, all of sudden, I hear some discussions on some Robert Clive commiting sucide. The named looked very familiar, mentally I tried to locate where I had heard the name, thinking about any suicides that had been featured on CNN-IBN. Was he some music band guy or something, no movie star as well, perhaps a political guy.

I blurted out in class "Kaun Robert Clive yaar?",

"How did you pass out, Robert Clive, who established British Empire in India?",

Ooops, everything came back, Battle of Plassey, Siraj Ud Dullah, and so on. And he committed suicide, I did not know that. The guy who I would assume, had everything name, fame, money. He killed himself !!!

As the story goes, (I did not know most part of this story, maybe you all may know it), he was the spoiled brat, was expelled from multiple schools. He was sent of to India at the age of 18, to get rid of him, because at that time survival rate in India was only about 50%. He was posted at Madras as a clerk. It is said that he was totally depressed there and made a failed attempt to suicide.

He was considered lowly character by his fellow British, because he spent lot of time with locals, boozing, and doing all kinds of shitty things. But this is where, he developed lot of those contacts with locals, and where he discovered the way of getting things done by bribing.

It is also said that the "Great battle of Plassey", (that I used to imagine was a big fierce battle) hardly lasted for more than an hour. There was no attack from the opposition, Clive had bribed Mir Jafar (head of armed forces of Siraj Ud Dullah), and in the final battle, Mir Jafar refused to move. And the battle got over. Siraj Ud Dullah, fled, but was later captured and killed. Mir jafar became a puppet Nawab of British.

Clive returned to England, with all the glory, but was severly criticized for making lot of money in unfair ways, and he was as it seems in state of depression. He was levied with charges of corruption.

At 48 he commited sucide. It seems there was even a controversy over his burial. And after a life of establishing a British empire in India, his grave was unmarked and remains so.

The gloriouis Robert Clive, abandoned by his family, and almost like expelled to India, looked down upon by fellow people, ended up changing the face of history, but personally had rather a sad life. Almost feel sorry for him.

What you see is now always what it is!!!

I guess before you start cursing me, of this uninvited history lessons, I will sign off.

PS: Wikipedia says that "mirjafar" in Bengali is still used as synonym to traitor. Wonder if it is true.

One more PS: What I wrote above is as narrated by our film making instructor, but verified from wikipedia, seems true.

First day at school

Sunshine wrote a post on gutter baby, recalling how she had once fallen in gutter when she was three, and I have a similar story to share..

It was way back in 1983

As it so happened, we have recently moved in to the new house, my paernts had bought a house (just 85k !!!). We were among the first to occupy a house in that colony. And all around our house lot of construction was going on. Among the other things getting constructed there was this one rectangular gutter. For some vague reason on that day, they had kept it open. Me and my elder sister were jumping across it (along the shorter side). Each trying to tell the other , "If you can I can too". And then my sister just to show how big and how capable she is, as compared to me jumped along the longer side as well. How could I stay behind. I wanted to do the same, and bang I went inside, with my head hiting the edge of it as told later to me, with blood dripping nonstop from my head.

I dont remember anything after that, neither does my sister remember anything. I guess she would have just gone inside shouting and calling for mom. My mom says that they took me to the doctor, (our next door was a doctor). And saved me.

But as a momento of that incident, I still carry this deep cut on my forehead, whose reference I have given in infinite forms that I have filled. While people may search for their unique identification marks, in split second I say "deep cut on my forehead).

I have only two photos of myself, which dont have that cut... :D

Now that I am at it, there is one other incident that I vividly remember, that is my first day at school.

I was all in tears, I never wanted to go to school, but my papa would not take anything. I got ready to go to school but with the condition that papa was also going to stay there with me all the while, but somehow smart as my papa is, he managed to dodge me and disappear and I was in this room with all the kids and monstrous looking spectacled teacher. I did not talk with anyone, and finally this teacher cames and asks me my name and I say "Rajesh", (Yups Rajesh is my real name), and next she askd me was my surname. I had no idea what was that supposed to be. At home they had made me momorize my name, fathers name, mothers name, all about pencils, slates, bicuits, but never this surname.
I still remember that scene so well, teacher bending over me trying to catch it at all I muttered soemthing, wondering if I was shy, afraid, with green and white oil painted school wall in backgroud, with other kids staring at me, some even laughing and giggling at me, I was terrified as hell, wondering what was gonna happen to me, papa was nowhere to be seen.

For that one moment, I hated my papa with all my might, why did he not tell me. Where had he dissappeared. He had broken his promise and he was not there, I was never ever going to listen to him again. Probably I would never even talk to him again, but for one moment I wanted him there, to come and open those iron gate and take me outside, I wanted to be home and play.

I dont remember anything after that, just that one teacher took me somewhere and I was again made to sit. And I guess I sat there, crying all the time, looking at the door, just waiting to see some familiar figure there. Forming all those schemes to take revenge from Papa. And go and tell mom, about all the things that had happened, I was sure she was never even going to send me here again.

The confusion, which I learnt much later from my papa, apparently was because they were planning to divide the batch in to two classes and as is the case always there were more than one Rajesh, they wanted to know my second name, so that they could put me in right class.

But as it turned out later, I hardly went to the school for more than a week. I was always full of tears and would break into crying everynow and then again. Teachers also got sick me. My parents got me out of school. And I spent one more year at home, playing, and blissfully Njoying. Next year they got me admitted directly to U-KG.

Even now, when I go back to my hometown, and I meet some of our old family freinds, they keep telling me about those days, and wondering how I ever managed to study to be an engineer.

Smiling cockroaches...

Have you ever seen a smiling cockroach... or for the matter of fact an irritated, or angry or happy or sad or any kind of emotional cockroach. Have you ever bothered to figure out? I wonder if they exhibit any such emotions.. why this questions popped up because I was just looking at the way, everyone at my home takes extreme pleasure in crushing this poor insects under the chappals, and whatsoever that they find, not that I am a big cockroach fan and that I would love to keep them as pets, I dont like them that much because they are ugly, especially their colour, I wish that they were more colourful or atleast have some other colour other that stupid orage'ish brown. But I was wondering if cockroaches instead of running around here and there like idiots, could do something with their antennas to amuse people, I guess then people would not be so harsh to them. Imagine as soon as we switched on the light they would, instead of running around, would do something cute, as if saying "Why did you switch on light, we dont like it", by moving their antenna in some way or walking in someother manner, or doing something different rather than running away blindly. I guess they could stir our emotions too, and then we would not be shovering chappals over them.

I was just wondering, why we feel sorry when we see dogs getting killed and chickens and goats getting killed for food, I guess that is only because they have learnt to do some actions which sort of stir our emotions and we start feeling sorry for them. Like dog wagging their tails and goats with always that so called sorry looking and innocent face. But most of times when we see the cockroach have only one thread running in our head, find something before it vanishes and satakk... missed... another satakkk.., gone and then we feel happy and think that we have accomplished something.

Hold on... please dont label me as cockroach activist. Dont start forming images that when you come to my home you will see cockroaches sitting and having a merry time on my bed and in my bookshelf. It is not like that. Whenever I see one of them, depeding on my mood and availability of appropriate weapon, I too do also do the same. And as such I am now staying in a newly constructed house which as of yet remains as one of the unconquered territory by these species.

But it is just that yesterday, at a friend's place, the death of one of this fellows with a chappal triggered this chain of thoughts.

Anyways, have a good week ahead :D

Anandashram....Old Age home

Ever since Tejas (my old company ) moved to Bannergatta road, everyday while passing by that road, I used to see this board "Anand Aashram, Old age Home". This was like Aug 2005. And since then I had always wanted to go inside it once. But as idiotic as I am, who wants to do 100 things in life and hardly manages to do four or five of them, I could never make it there.

Until but yesterday one friend of mine, showed similar interest and immediately off we went, yesterday evening after office. Actually you are supposed to take permissions to visit there, but when we reached at round about 6 the office had already closed, so we just walked in to the gate and there were couple of old man sitting there and yups minutes later we were talking to them, about weather, about our natives, about Bangalore city changing, and so on.

Later on one of the guy, took us to his quarters. His wife was watching TV. The quarter was just one single room about 10x10 feet, with attached bathroom. He said that he paid about 1.2 lakhs for that (it seems they have to pay to construct the room, which remains theirs till they are alive and then goes to aashram), and he was paying about 3k per month (for both of them) for other facilities (like food and water and all).

He was telling us about his job, he was a retired railway employee and had a pension, so in a way he was like self dependent. He had two kids, son in mysore and a daughter in Bangalore. He said that he spent most of the time doing, actually doing nothing.

The place was very nice, and green and silent. But there was this feeling of abandonment there, feeling of being cut out from the world, which was very sad. This is bang on Bannergatta road but I wonder how many people walk into those gates.

Listening to him, I kept wondering how it would be to live without a aim or aspirations, when sunday is just like monday and everyday is just like any other day, when I think about myself, I always have this small things in life which i keep looking forward to, like am going to bombay next week (for some customer meet) and there is this film that I have to make as a part of Film making course at CFD.

You might get the feeling that I am talking like a Buddha, a spoiled brat who goes out for the first time goes out to see the sufferings. Not it is not like that. These people are living very comfortably, good food, resonably decent medical facitlity, good atmosphere, but I guess it is a quite a different thing to be lonely, and the feeling that you cant do much about it.

Ok coming back, we spent about an hour there, talking to couple of people, could not talk with others because most of them knew only kanada, (and I was ashamed to admit that I have not learnt a word of kannada even after close to five years in Bangalore)

I came out feeling little weird. Wondering if I could do something about it. They had everything there, carrom, library, chess etc. But somehow they had lost enthu to do anything. They just want do nothing. I dont think I can blame them, because I guess sometimes circumtances, the feeling of hurt, the feeling of being left out, might just kill your spirit, and it would take a lot to rekindle that.

Can you please write it and give me...

Recently, I have realized the power and effectiveness of the statement "Can you please write it and give me"..

Let me explain...

I have registered for the BSNL broad band connection nine months back and have not got it yet. So I went to customer care, and asked the lady behind the counter about the status, and she very casually asked me to go to some RTNagar exchange and find out.

"Why cant you do it?" I asked..

"Nopes we dont have any person here who is responsible for the internet connections" she said

"Can you please write it and give me?" I said , "Please write that a customer has come to enquire for net connection and I cant help but ask him to go to some other place"

"No I cant do that", She said

"Why not?" I asked

"Because I am not responsible for the net connections" she said.

"Ok in that case, please write and give me that Customer Care is not responsible for net connections, for this kind of things customers are required to go exchange and find out", I persisted, "See, I dont want to complain, but just I want to figure out where I have to go for what"

Thats it, she started calling some numbers, gave my details, retrieved the information and told me.

Never mind what the information was, but I got some answer, and I avoided running to someother place.

This is the third time that I have employed this technique, First at the railway reservation and second at ICICI, and this time here.

I guess it works because people are afraid to give in writing, because they know that it is their responsibility and they are just running away from it. So if you persist, they would solve the problem for you.

Please use this freely, you dont have to be rude and all. Be nice and very straight. Trust me it works....

Cheers..

My First Job...

"
The sanskrit exam had just ended, and it was the last exam of 10th class and I was feeling very happy. Finally had finished school, and probably would go in to college. From time I had started watching movies, and seeing all the heros having so much fun in college I always wanted tobe in college.

But at the same time somethings were troubling me. The community in which I grew up, there was a rule that everyone does business. Other career options were unheard of. All my friends were planning to go with their fathers/elder brothers to their own shop/business and learn to work. But sadly my father worked in the bank, and he did not have business. So I was kind of stranded. So I wanted to find out what I wanted to do in life. Vivek, one other friend of mine had same problem. So united in our problem with the anxiety of uncertain future, we thought that we should start finding a job for ourselves.

We looked up in papers and found this particular sales agency which wanted sales executives. Next day we ended up in this sales agency. I dont even remember the name of it right now, the only thing that I remember is that the owner of the sales agency (as was murmured to us by the other guys who had come there), was a young man of 25, and he had started it when he was our age, and he had reached a level where he was earning lakhs of rupess per month. WoW.

There was supposed to be interview as well, and first one for us in our lives. Both vivek and me were nervous, vivek had even tried reading up all the maths and all. But we just cleared the interview, he did not ask anything. He only explained that we were supposed to do door to door selling. He explained how we could sell more and more and keep multiplying our return. He was so casual and looked so cool. Instantly he became our hero, and we wanted to be like him. He was so smart and a great man. We were wondering why his name had never figured in papers. All of sudden felt that we had found our career option.

Next morning we were supposed to go there at 8 and start the work. We had decided that we were not going to tell our parents, because they may stop us from doing this. We would tell them later, we were sure that if we were able to earn enough money, then they would feel proud.

Morning, and we were handed 10 packets of dining table mats. Each packet was to be sold at 100 rupees, and 10 rupees was my earnings from the same. We were even made to wear the tie. And we were asked to memorize something to the effect.. "Maam, we are from DontRememberTheName company and we have this ....".

May, Gujju land and tie, but somehow these things did not seem to bother us, we were just thinking that this was the thing to get into. We were just looking at this as a great opportunity to become rich. We would sell lot of dining table mats, and make loads ofmoney. Even 10 sets sold would give us 100 rupess, which did seem lot of money. It just meant selling one set an hour, which did not look difficult. Further still everyday the item seemed to change, dining mats one day, dining set other day, books on third day and so on. It looked so exciting. We had even decided that after some days we would carry different items, so that we could sell one or the other.

So out we went, we figured out a locality that we had to go and we started. Went from house to house, we had a little tough time in figuring out most of the times weather the lady washing clothes outside was the kaamwali or the house owner. But we kept on. Sometimes lecturing only to realize that we were talking to kaamwali, but then we would start again.

I remember one particular house we went, were after the intial lecture of introduction, the lady asked us to wait. We were hoping that she had gone to take money, but instead she got in her hand a similar packet of dining mats, and they looked spoiled and badly damaged, "I had bought it last week from similar guys like you and now in one wash it has got spoilt, please take this and give the money back". Ooops...not knowing what to do, both vivek and me broke off in a run, and ran away from her house as fast as we could. Did not stop until we reached the next street. I still dont know why we did that, but I guess we were afraid. Afraid that she would snatch a good packet from us. We did not want to get in to 100 rupees loss. 100 rupees was loads of money at that time. We stood at the corner of the road discussing about how we are going to deal with this situation. Wondering if we were cheating people. Wondering if the lady would have send her son to follow us.

We started again after sometime, but somehow the rosiness of the whole business had disappeared. We were begining to feel tired. And started wondering why could we not go back home and watch DDLJ.

At the end of day we had sold three packets, made thirty rupees. The owner of that company, our Hero of the morning, (I say hero of the morning, because somehow in the evening things did not look same, we started doubting him, his success) told us that we had done great, and tomorrow we should sell more.

From next day onwards we never went there. I guess that I decided salesmanship was not the right career for me. I dont even remember what I did for rest of the vacation. I guess spend it with TV, cycling here and there, and so on. Wonder what I did with those fifteen rupees (that was my share).

But I still think about that day. That image of me and vivek with mats in hands and the face of that lady are still fresh. I guess I learnt the importance of money that day, learned to respect my parets for taking care of all my needs and pocket money.
"

Sales conference with Jeans-Tshirt ??

I never understood why is that blazer with leather shoes and a suit is formal, whereas a tshirt-jeans is not formal. I keep wondering who defined all those things. Why is it that when people are expected to go for seminars, they are supposed to wear these so called formal clothes. I think if I ever become a CEO, I would go in jeans and tshirt, or may be a kurta. As long as I am neatly dressed, I dont think it should be of concern to anyone.

Same goes with eating as well. Have never been able to realize the fun of eating with knife and fork. Have found it more cumbersome then useful. I mean nothing wrong with that, but eating with hand should also be equally good. I guess it should be left to individual choice.

I remember the first time I had gone to Montreal-Canada on account of office work, I got a nice yummy chicken leg piece for dinner with a pizza. I could manage pizza with knife and spoon, but simply could not figure out how was I supposed to eat the chicken piece with fork and a knife. I told my host that in most of India, we would rather eat it with hand, and then I ate it as I would nomally would by holding it in one hand and nibbling at it. Actually that did trigger off a nice conversation, about India, and how things are the way they are and so on, which in turn actually did help me a lot in later days. Now actually when I recall that day which is still so fresh in memory (because that was my first time abroad), I was wearing bright red Kurta that day. That facinated my host to no end. And the conversations kept becoming more and more interesting, as the days went by, starting from food, to clothing to marriage and to basically everything. The best part of all this was that, this fellow took me for one full day trip of Montreal just before I was about to leave, the trip started from harbour, to church, to shopping, to dinner and finally ending up at a disc. (would blog some other day about that). Wonder if I would have even been able to strike a conversation with host, and subsequent friendship, had I been busy trying to look like one of him, trying to be so-called formal and ceasing to be myself.

Coming back, why do we still follow the tradition of wearing ties and learning to eat with spoons and forks and knives? In some companies they even give the training for the same. Wonder how many people wear tie by choice rather than by compulsion. I dont know why cant we be ourselves. I also hate the gowns that they give us in convocation, we have pay something for renting that. I dont know why. I guess it would still be very nice if everyone could come neatly dressed. Ok..I guess uniformity is required, because it gives a very pretty picture, but then it could be kurta-pygama as well, which I guess everyone would have one at home, and which would be useful later as well.

Imagine May, 45 degrees, small dusty road, a bank on side, and poor employees forced to wear a tie. It is ridicolous! This is not orginated in my brain, this is what happened to one of my fathers friend, where the bank he worked for all of sudden imposed this dress code for ties.

I guess we should all be allowed to be ourselves.

By ourselves, I dont mean Indian, or Gujju, or Hindu, or corporate or anything. Just someone whom we call "Me" "myself"

Down Memory Lane.... Ek Anek Aur Ekta

This is a cliche kind of post, but I am sure that this is going to ring some bells inside you. I used to absolutely love this video as a kid, infact I still love it. In my old office I used to have this video on my PC, and people used to gather along my cubicle and we used to watch it, but I stupidly lost it, today remembered and found it on You Tube. Njoy

Crazy and Embarassing

"
That was the time when I was new to Bangalore. Just one year in to the IT job, and my life was mostly like everyone else, Brigade road roaming, KFC eating and Rex movie watching. But at the time of the story I had acquired something new, a girl friend. For the first time in life I was bitten by the love bug, you may say it is a little late, but I was a goody-goody boy in college, parachute oil in hair putting type, and the only pleasure known to me at that time were playing cricket and solving cryptography puzzles from "The code Book" (Simon Singh) and as such our college was never known for any fairer sex. So here I was in a totally different world. I found myself moving away from the late night discussions about "Brief History of time", and found myself sending lot of smses, and engaging myslef in late night calls which lasted for hours. I did not have a bike then, and further still I did not know how to drive one. But sensing the necessity of such a skill I borrowed a bike from one of my friends, not a Pulsar not even a splendour, but it was boxer, Bajaj Boxer. But I guess it did not matter at that time. I spend couple of days learning it.


On the day in question, I found myslef, on boxer with this newly acquired friend of mine. She did not know that I was a novice at biking, and I guess I drove brilliantly for a "two day experienced biker", and she could not guess it, until it was the time to drop her back after full day of doing somethings none of which I remember right now. But I do remember clearly as I was dropping her, around about 8 in the evening, it was already dark. She was off my bike, and after bye, and holding hands, and discussing when to meet next, to another bye and another shake hands, I was ready to go. There was this feeling of having accomplished something. But Ooops krrrr, krrrr, krrrr, krrrr,.....five kicks and the bike would not start. Some more kicks but the engine refused to start. I was getting little tensed. Such a situations had never been presented to me before. With racing mind I thought I would put the bike on stand, and try, but no... i had a better idea, (atleast at that time I though it was brilliant) I reasoned that the bike would have got cold and now given that it had already taken my 20 kicks it should start soon. So to save my man-li-ness pride, I just turned the petrol key, to off and on again. I did this because I wanted my friend to believe that petrol was off, am sure she would not paid much attentions to what I did with the key. So with renewed confidence and smile on my face, murmuring "Arey petrol was not on", I started, one... two...three... ten. It would simply not start. Now I was in soup.


I was feeling very embarassed and irritated. All the while this girl was standing there, looking little amused. I had never used bike for long, neither had I any knowledge about the failure points in a bike, not did I have any idea where to check the oil and all such things. Minutes later I found myslef walking with girl, dragging the bike, searching for some mechanic. Shops were already closing, and my house was not very near, I could not stay at this girls place also, because her aunty would have killed me, with all the thoughs racing we were walking down. I did not want to talk, I wished that the girl had left me alone, but according to her she was being a good friend, trying to sort out my problem, and I was getting irritated and wondering what kind of impression this girl would have formed of me, fear was lurking inside me that this might be the last time that girl would go with me.


But, then came the God send rescuer, a man who was walking away briskly, saw us two kiddos dragging the and came to our help. I handed him the bike feeling pretty sure that he would not be able to start it. But bang, first kick and the bike started. I was like you can understand very embarassed and very red. Then he pointed his hand to a small switch near the right handle of the bike, which was supposed to be the on-off button. The button was in off position and he simply put it on. You may ask how come it went in to off position, even I asked the same question to myself then, and I still dont know how that happened.


By the time the girl was laughing like mad, I was wondering what that man might be thinking about me, I wished that he was not from the same colony, I did not want to see him again. I wished he had never come and that I would have passed on the problem to some thing going bad in bike. But anyways, I took the bike and dropped my friend (girl) home, I did not switch off the bike, because I did not want to take any risk, and this time did not even go through the cylcle of bye...talking...... bye, just one small bye and I was off.


Today whenever I am with this friend of mine and we see a boxer, we both laugh like crazy, and remember that day, when the boxer would not start.

"
Excerpt from the dairy..

Now coming back to the present state, the most embarassing thing that I have done in recent past is to burn a white board marker with the soldering Iron. Being a very experienced hardware engineer, I guess that is something which I am not supposed to do. (I think it is ok to leak this information here, and that it would not affect my future career, since my resume does not mention Goli anywhere)

Another crazy thing that I did some days back was when I came to office very early and I did not have the keys. This happens quite often in our office, because we dont have a security guard. And no one was expected to come in another hour. Thankfully I had a my guitar, So I sat on my office steps facing the road and started playing, "knocking on heavens door", people came, saw and went. But I did not care. I wish I had a "katora" with me that day. I guess I would have made enough money for atleast a "set dosa" in the evening.

:D

Company called Elina

I am on 55th post, and I never blogged about my company... so I thought that it is a good idea to blog about the place where I work...

My company
Elina(sounds very weird name, actually we picked it up from babynames.com and it means intelligence in some european langauge) ... started 18 months back, makes networking hardware. I am not going to bore you with all the technical jazz. In simple terms we make those boxes(solutions) with which you can interconnect all your offices(stores) ... for example if food world has 500 stores in india, and they want to have a centralized management, they can put our box at each of their location and thats it... I am not going to go more tech, any other tech you can get on website and ofcourse you can ping me.

I have been lucky enough to get job in startups. As soon as I graduated I worked in Tejas Networks.... that company rocks...I mean rocks in terms of company culture. Ofcourse everyone thinks that his company rocks, but I guess in small company you have that feeling of ownership which makes if very different.

You may ask, why did I leave tejas, yups after sometime your mind yearns to do something different. And that different thing happened to be Elina.
Elina is another extenstions of tejas, I mean another product company from India (but we dont compete tejas, we are totally in different domains)

Great things about startups... is that you can play music on speakers all day long, I love playing radio indigo, and torture everyone to listen to music which I want to listen... and food from the caterer is good because the number of people is less..... the fights... the temper running strong in board room over some important decisions..... designing and choosing your office.....frustration of coming to office on weekend to finish some work, only to realize that you dont have the keys because we could not as yet afford a security...thrill of first sales......seeing the first product installed at customer location... despair of fear that we might have to close down ...some days I have driven back home thinking that I have completely screwed up decision of joining this place..... and days like today i am totally escatatic and am thinking that we are going to conquer the world...I get so depressed sometimes that my first sales meet has not yet resulted in a order (still not happened :( )... and get so excited whenever I get a new lead to chase someone...Got galis from one customer because I did not call him when he wanted me too....Trying to design a Tshirt for my company...There was a time when there was no water in our new office, and everyone was trying to figure out the nearest sulab....crazy fights.....no AC.... in IIM office (our office was in IIM incubation) once we had water coming in through the ventillation windows, and all of us left work and were engaged in rescue effort of sticking papers, plastics, and whatever was available....

I have had a chance of putting hands in everything starting from hardware, software, manufacturing, customer installation, marketing and now desperately trying to do some sales. I absolutely love the faith that my team puts in me to do stuff, which I have never done before. Somethings I have done well, have screwed up some things. Sheer number of different things which I can do makes everyday very different.

Till now ELINA is doing quite well, and hope that we would fly someday soon...

By the way if you ever go for a haircut at Limelite (@brigade road, jaynagar, 100feet road, vithalmalaya road, koramangala in bangalore)... you can peek down at the reception desk, just below the world space radio, is our box, purple color small and cute.

Cheers... and Happy holi

RaNDom ThOUgHT's

Absolutely loved this jpeg.... (Again stole it from Mayuri..)

To all the guys out there..

A "Damsel from Bombay " Mayuri's... response to "To all the girls out there.... A humble request"

Please Note: Published with due permissions from Mayuri and for the benefit of all the guys.


"

First things first, I absolutely abhor this addressing guys as ‘Bhaiyya’ business.’ I swear, even my trusted subziwala packs in inferior vegetables when I address him as ‘Bhaiyya’, though my mother vehemently disagrees, citing my annual visits as the real reason.
So imagine the plight of those guys who are addressed as ‘Bhaiyya’ by every Priya, Pinky and Pooja whom they see in ‘that way.’

‘I can’t look at you in that way’, is a line I am guilty of using more times than I would like to admit.

When I was younger, foolish and pushed into a corner and asked to elaborate on why I couldn’t see them ‘that way’, to save my skin and the guys feelings, I’d blurt out ‘Because you are like my brother.’

Though those guys weren’t anything remotely like my brother who, while we're on the subject, is a strapping, tall, dark, handsome, though sometimes very exasperating, lad. Because, if they would be anything like him, minus the exasperating bit, I wouldn’t be using the line ‘I can’t look at you that way’ in the first place.

However, having grown older and wiser, besides realizing and accepting the fact that no Indians are my bothers, except one, I am now am honest enough to not use the ‘Because you are like my brother’ line.

Now, when pushed into a corner and asked to elaborate on the ‘Why’ after telling them ‘I can’t look at you that way’ I quell their bubbling curiosity by enlightening them with the precise reason.
Then as I walk away, I hear faint wisps of words like, ‘...thinks no end of her self...’ , ‘choke her or strangle her?’ and assorted other similar terminology floating my way ;))

The reasons a girl declines coffee could surprise you and the biggest surprise is that you hardly figure in any of the reasons.
Ranging from the fact that coffee is not the brew of her choice to maybe she doesn’t like the cutlery in the particular place you were asking her out to (warned ya you’d be surprised!)

What? You didn’t mention any place, yet?

Oh! Oh! What color shirt were you wearing when you asked, then? (Sorry, orange reminds her of the Shiv Sena) What cologne were you wearing? (Sporty colognes remind her of the *&%$#@ ex-boyfriend) Were your shoes right? (Badly scuffed shoes remind her of her horribly cruel PT teacher from school)

So, you see, It’s Not About You.

You think it about looks then? Wrong, again!

Ok, let me explain something more. It is never, ever about good looks and the perfect physique for girls, contrary to what guys think. You don’t believe me?

Ok.

Look around you and tell me who is the hottest hunk women drool over right now? Go, on.
It’s Abhishek Bachchan. Does he have the perfect abs? (Not. He even has a bit of a tummy for God’s sake!) Besides a tummy, he has the worst hair and hairstyle in the history of mankind and don’t even get me started about his ungainly gait and the extra weight!

But girls drool over him more than they drool over Hritik Roshan, who has the six-pack, the right hair and hairstyle and chiseled face and what not!
Why? Only God, and the girls, know.

So don’t ever try to fathom why a girl turns down coffee and trust me when I say It’s Not About You.

Just smile your smile, be yourself and try asking a girl out with a ‘Would you like to join me for a glass of Orange Juice’, instead.
Either she’ll be too stunned to react and just nod a submissive ‘Yes’, or her mind will start whirring faster than the cash register at her favorite boutique and she’ll connect things you can’t even dream of, for instance
‘heaskedmeoutforanorangejuice
-thatsmeansheisadifferentsortaguy-
whichmeansibettersnaghimbeforeanyofmyfriendsdo.’

And before you know it you’ll be sitting across her, nourishing your health with Vitamin C and nourishing your ego with the smiles she’s flashing your way and maybe, just maybe she’ll start thinking of you and seeing you in ‘that way.’
;)

"

One more bit...Childline

Last time I wrote the bits and pieces post but forgot to add one thing for which I had started that post...

If you have a office/home party/marriage/function and you have lot of excess food left... which you want to give away.. you can call 1098, childline, they will come and take the food away. Childline is a child welfare organizations, and has links to most of the orphanages in all major cities.
You may say that it does not look right to give away the left food for kids, but I guess that would be much better than the bland food that they might otherwise get.

Cheers.

Bits and pieces...

First bit... something which i really liked to read...

"You should not fret too much about writers's bloc or artist's bloc or whatever. If you are looking at a blank piece of paper and nothing comes to you, then you go do something else. Writer's bloc is just a symptom of feeling like you have nothing to say, combined with the weird idea that you SHOULD feel the need to say something.
If you have something to say, then say it. Else enjoy the silence for the while"


Ofcourse I did not write this... I read it from the creative writing link that I sent earlier. I wonder how many read it, but if you have not read it, read it for the fun of it.

Another bit
The difference between socialist and capitalist
(My friend was discussing this with me yesterday)
Socialist will GET a cake and distribute EQUALLY among everyone including himself.

A capitalist will make sure that he is able to CREATE a very big cake, and will keep HALF of it to HIMSELF, and distribute the remaining, but still everyone would end up getting more that what they would have otherwise got.

I am not making any judgement calls on socialist and capitalist..... but just it was a something to think about..

To all the girls out there... A humble request

Excerpt from a Secret Dairy of a Secret Guy...

Discliamer: Any resembelence to any person living or dead is purely fictitious.
"
The one thing which I dread and am really afraid of is when a girl tells me that I am like a sweet brother to her.... God I hate it, fear it and have wild dreams about it... I wonder why girls are always interested in making brothers, even after they grow up, I wonder what faults that they see with their real brothers that makes them go out looking for more brothers, and even more brothers. I do hate more when most of my sisters' friends or friends' sisters start addressing me as "bhaiya", it becomes kind of default thing to use, and it irritates me. I wish they would ask me my name. And imagine if I turn back and start calling them bahenji, would they not take offence. Girls are funny and they are.

The other set of girls who are not going around forming brothers have one other deadly weapon "I cant look at you in that way", wonder what that is supposed to mean. And thats it, next day I keep looking at myself in mirror while shaving, and wondering if that has got to do with the way I look, the way I have my hair or it has got to do with her vision. And in general girls dont want to argue and discuss this subject, while it is so obvious to them, it seems latin-greek to me and leaves me totally perplexed. The only thing that I get out of them is that I dont appear to be that serious. But the problem is that if I start talking serious stuff then I dont even get this far, I mean then girls will never be interested in me. Because girls like fun-loving easy-going guys. So you see it is vicious circle. and I think the key is to identify the point of transition when I have to change myself from easy-going to hard-tuff, from talking about guitaing and the latest Johny Depp movie to talking about future career prospectus and the real estate pricing.

But the most funniest thing that I find is that the same girl (I mean the same girl who tells me that I am not serioius), when she goes out to meet the guy that parents have chosen for her, by default start seeing him as perspective husband, even though most of the times I find him as idiotic as myself.

I guess you girls have to understand that life is difficult for guys with the competition so high and you have to be little considerate. I guess on an average a girl might get proposed 5 times in her bachelorhood... (I have no data on how much on married girls), whereas a guy like me might die to get proposed even once. Now when I have got to think about it I dont think any of my boy-friends (somehow calling boy friends looks little shady, I mean my friends who are guys) have ever got proposed, atleast no one has ever told me about it. And trust me guys also have very little threshold of falling in love, and they pratically fall in love with any girl, I think if guy meets a girl for ten times he would surely fall in love. This is especially true if the guy comes from some testosterone intensive college like IIT.


So please all you girls dont take it very seriously if I ask you out for a cup of coffee, I am just looking for a harmless cup of coffee. Dont make any character based assumptions about me. And I have a very nice and cute sister and I love her. I dont think I can handle more than that. And please dont treat me as agony uncle and start talking about the antics of your new boyfriend, about how he does not pay any attention to you or whatsoever, because I hate your boyfriend, I genuinely hate him. I might listen with lot of enthusiasm but inside my heart breaks, and please dont do it especially when I cam sponsering you a cup of coffee. And if possible do let me know when is the transition point, rather when you would want to see me as hard and macho man.

Cheers.

RaNDom ThOUgHT

"If I try I will risk failure, If I don't I will ensure it!"


I borrowed RaNDom ThOUgHT thing from Sucharita blog. The thought is different but the idea the same.. :D

Sheer brilliance of NOT-Working

I was train`ing to pune last week, and was nicely sitting by the window berth wearing above tshirt
and was reading the following book..



And there was this gentle man sitting right in front of me and he all of sudden asked me "How are you going to change the world by Not-Working?"


For a moment I did not quite understand it but then it struck to me that he was referring to my tshirt.... It was funny... Then he went on to ask me if i had changed the world and how was I going to change the world, he was sort of rediculing me.. and I hated it...I wanted to ask him point blank what has he done to do anything in his life... but as it turned out he had done lot of work related to orphanages, he keeps visiting childrens homes and orphanges and does something about them... finally at the end of it.. it was a nice conversation.


I think I should travel more often by train, there is nothing better than a nice evening by the window with a book in hand and reading looking at all the sunflower fields and all the stations and all the people. And mostly always you always end of meeting someone very nice and interesting to talk to.

About the book: Actually the name may suggest that it is a self help book, but actually it is not so. It is a book is a collection of stories about simple and ordinary people who have done something great to bring about a social change with creativity and determinations.

Cheers and adios...

CreATiVItY

"Everyone is born creative, everyone is given a box of crayons in kindergarten, then when you hit puberty they take the crayons away and replace them with books on algebra.. etc. Being suddenly hit years later with the creative bug is just a wee voice telling you, “Iʼd like my crayons back, please.”

Quoted from "How to be creative" by Hugh MacLeod.

I loved this essay... It is a good reading..

Dancing...

I have been here in Pune (pimpri), in a marriage of my cousin..

I have been dancing my heart out for last three days and my feet are aching bad because of constant jumping.... It is not like a bangalore party dancing... it is like dancing with grannys, the long lost aunties whom you see only in marriages, dancing with all the chotu kids of cousins with whom we used to play in summer vacation way back. It is very different and fun. I dont know what happens in other communities, but at our place there is something called sangeet.... (which is not restricted to fairer sex), and it starts with traditional songs and then goes on to all the hindi dance numbers ... (English music is not popular at marriages). Actually I am not that good at dancing, quite bad in fact (find it very difficult to move gracefully), but if there are aerobic kind of dance steps... like "Lets' go party tonight", "Kya mujhe pyaar hai", types then I guess I can take over..

I shall write more about it with some pics when I am back to bangalore....

Cheers

Blabbering on 50th post

This is my 50th post, and I feel happy that I have come so far, thanks to all the guys who read this....

Nothing specific to say today, but I will just put down the rumblings in my mind on the way to office.

One of my collegue has a 8 year old kid, and he communicates with his father on Google Talk. Amazing... I think he plays with Xbox (or whatever that is called). I wonder if this kids mature much faster in life?

That made me think about my days back then in baroda, I remember that the only appreciable toy that I had for a long time was a bus, a metal bus with wheels, not the "chaabi wala", but the one which you have to drag. And I used to go around our veranda, day in and day out with it. I used to envy my neighbours kid, because he used to have multiple busses and sometimes he used to let me run them as well.

Another thing I guess which was quite facinating was to play "Ghar Ghar", and I remember that I had a blue color plastic cooker, witha yellow color plastic gas stove. And we used to play that endlessley, never getting tired to repeating the same routine each and everyday.

Sand, that is another thing that was heaven, there was the excitement when some construction used to start nearby, and thats all was needed for me and my sister to run away from home and run and fall and make sand castles, in hot sun, rain, anything.

I wonder if today the kids play the same games, I think it is quite out of fashion these days to play "Ghar Ghar".

Sometimes I think that our generation was the best time to grow up, because most of us coming from small towns have seen a mammoth change in out life. From kerosene stoves to microwaves, from vivid bharti to radio indigo, from struggling to get a line to make std calls to cellphones, from postcards to emails, from gud (jaggery) bajara roti to pizzas, from the Bata canvas shoes to the Nikes, from the much awaited sunday movies on doordharshan to hundred channels. I guess because of the massive changes we are able to relate to the hi-fi glamour world and also slow paced life of our towns.

I think enough rumblings, for the morning....
Cheers and happy times ahead..

By the way out of my all 50 posts my favourite post has been this.

Did you see RDB?

Not long time ago,
I went to cancel this ticket,
It was not a simple reservation,
but a tatkal train ticket,

TC said said go here,
Clerk asked me to go there,
Went almost everywhere,
but no sucess anywhere

finally had to go to railway inspector,
but he was not on seat for an hour,
finally he came, was arrogant, rude
and said it is not possible

All angry I was and frustrated,
When I met this gentleman down,
On relating everything to him
He asked, did you see RDB?

Either you shout and go home,
Or you go and put a complain,
Choice is yours,
For this country of Ours.

PS1: RDB is RangDeBasanti
PS2: Dont have patience to sit and rhyme it.
Hold on one more
Last PS: It was a tatlak, waitlist ticket so liable to be cancelled.

Surprise gift from faraway....

While travelling back from Hospet couple of months back, I had met this french gentleman, Antione in the bus, and I helped him in a lot in getting a auto, explaining him bus routes and other such stuff. Couple of days later I went around with him to do some shopping for his family because he was going home. That was november.

Out of the blue, couple of days back he called me again and said that he was back in india and that he wanted to meet him, and yesterday when i met him, he has got for me a Frech Wine and some amazing home made choclates (not the kisses kinds, but marmalde with choclate coating). It was such a lovely surprise and I have been feeling happy happy since then.

You can come home for some good wine, but as far as the choclates are concerned, it is anybody's guess where they have dissappeared... :D

Notes of 2006...

--> The easiest way I ensure that the auto guy does not cheat me, is that I start talking with him as soon as I enter the auto, trust me it makes a huge difference.

--> Gyming everyday for about 20 minutes makes you feel good for next twenty hours and give sound sleep for rest of hours.

--> Lot of times, last year I kept wondering and fretting how could he/she do this to me and so on. But I realized that it is worthwhile putting myself in his/her shoes and analyzing . I think that everyone is resonable and good in their own way.

--> When quarelling most of the times I forgot all the good things that happened to relationship and only remembered the last bad thing that happened.

--> I think our mind has infinite capacity to do things, the moment I start thinking that I cannot do this or this is not your cup of tea I think I am getting older. And I dont want to. (Wanna be 18 till I die)

--> I hate when someone discourages me, and now I dont care to be polite also, I ask them to f*** off.

--> Munna bhai and Roberto Benigni (of Life is beautiful) are my heroes. and RDB is my inspiration.

--> Have realized that only during the times when I am down and broken that I have ventured forth to do some thing different.

--> I did some creative writing course, sounds funny. But to me it was the course which opened a whole new world of poems, haikus, screenplay, dramatics to me.

Messe Thimmaiah......

Dont think that many of us would know the man in picture. Well he is Messe Thimmaiah. He was a traffic policeman, who used to stand at GPO signal (in Bangalore). While on duty he was run over by a overspeeding vehicle and he died on spot. This was somewhere during sept 97. Quite long time back actually.

But when I do ask some oldies of Bangalore, they tell me that they quite remember this guy. He was a commanding personality, smiling and helping poeple to cross the road and all that stuff.

I heard about him on some quiz on radio city and was really toched on hearing his story. I thought everyone should know about him. It took me quite an effort to get his picture. That is another story all together. Can write a full blog on it.
I was so touched by his story that I even went and interviewed couple of traffic policeman. It sounds little crazy, but I do believe that traffic police'ing is one of the worst jobs in Bangalore. And I just wanted to take a peek in to the life of traffic policeman. (I am putting the interview of the traffic policeman in the next blog).

This fellow whom I interviewed was estatic with the fact that someone wanted to talk to him. I guess it makes a huge difference if you just spend couple of minutes and talk to someone about them.


All thanks to Lohith for making this all possible. First to find me the picture, and then to act as a kannada translator.

Interview with Traffic policeman

How long have you been working as a traffic police man?
I joined in 1979, and have been working ever since. After 19 years got promoted from constable to head constable.

How does the hierarchy go in the department?
It goes something like this, constable, head constable, sub inspector, inspector, and so on.

What are the working hours?
Generally there are two shifts 7am to 2pm and 2pm to 10 pm. The shifts keep changing.

How are the positions assinged?
Positions keep changing weekly. It does not matter which positions we work. more traffic or less traffic is the same. We have to work nevertheless. Even when rajkumar died, we had to work. We cannot escape.

Why did you join traffic police?
Not really by choice, there was the advertisement in newspaper, and i went for the interview and joined the job.

How many holidays that you get?
Generally we have to work seven days a week. Even the ragpickers get off on sunday but we do not get off. But we get around 60 days off. But the bad thing is that you dont get off when you want to. It is really subject to approval.

Are you happy with the job?
Pay is very less, after almost 26 years of service I earn around only 11k. Even the security guy in accenture gets around 10k with all the additional benefits of PF and all. Here no benefits. Initially when I joined I used to get a 250 rupees and now I get around 500.

Regarding job satifaction?
We cannot spend lot of time with family. the workign hours keep extending. Even though we get official off at 2pm, but that is not always the case. It takes quite long to get a promotion. when i joined one thousand people joined. and each year 100 people get promoted. But I am proud of the job that I am doing public service. and I am happy that I can manage my family and parents.

What about your kids?
I have a son and daughter. Son just cleared his 10th with distinction and he got some merit seat in shesadripuram college. My son had asked me to get whatever he wants if he gets good marks, but I feel sad that I cannot afford that much.

Where are you from?
Karwar but have been in bangalore for a long time

When asked about the best and worst times of job?
Not anything, everything is the same, we have to come and stand here irrespective of anything. When ministers come and all our time is extended. We have to work more for their security. Our heads just ask us to work without checking our personal commitments.

PS1:There was lot of sparkle in eyes when he said about his kids
PS2:I have also actually made quite a nice friends with this guy (name undisclosed at his request)

Parachute Jumping

When travelling back from delhi, last week, i was reading one of the supplements which was talking about Shital Mahajan.

From what little I read, she is from pune and she has taken a parachute jump over the Geographic North Pole on 18th April, 2004, from 2400 feet, in minus 37 degree celsius, temperature condition. Further she is planning to take a jump over south pole in antartica.

I always wonder, how do people get such off beat ideas about their careers and then they have the guts and determination to follow them. Growing up, I guess my most'est Weird'est idea about my future was nowhere close to it.

Hats off ......

You can read
Pune times report
She has a link to her home page as well, but now it is not working

Hand to hold.....

Another attempt at poetry,

Running for the bus,
Running for the train,
Rushing all the time,
For I have a lot to gain,

But One day when I paused
Too tired to run anymore,
Found myself standing naked,
Tired, weak, cold and sore.

In a hurry to reach somewhere,
Left some behind, some went ahead,
For some had no time to spare,
Some had even from memory fled,

Life is short, move on they told,
But now I wish, had a hand to hold.

Ten Nine Eight

On sunday I read this story about childline and Jeroo Billimoria.

Childline, as the name suggest is helpline for children. In the cities they are present they have a toll-free telephone number 1098 (ten, nine, eight), on which any child who needs assistance can call. Calls are received by childline representatives, who are trained to take these kind of calls, and they take appropriate action, like providing medical assistance, or performing a rescue operation, or just give some emotional support.

When I was coming from Hospet, and I was waiting at the busstand. There was this, small girl about 13, and her mother (I presumed she was her mother), was forcefully taking her somewhere, and she was wailing like hell. From the clothes I could figure out that they were very poor. I did not have a nice feeling about the whole thing, but I ignored it. Probably I did not care, or I just did not have balls to interfere. Had I read about childline earlier, I would have probably given a call to 1098.

So as childline website puts it

• Call 1098 when to see any child in distress

• Tell every vulnerable child you see about CHILDLINE 1098

By the way childline is very much present in Bangalore...

Flying Kiss

Yesterday night I was waiting at the Hospet Bus Station to catch a bus back to Bangalore, it was quite late and there were hardly any people at bus-stand. I had brought a orange with me, because i like eating oranges when I travel. I was sitting all alone on the bench, when I saw this very old begger, walking towards me, looked very hungry, and was making the signs, you know the way beggers do when they are hungry. I felt sorry for him because he was quite old and really looked hungry and was walking with the stick. So I extended my hand and gave him half the orange. He took the orange in one hand and then with the other hand, he put two fingers on his lips and started moving them in front of his lips as if giving me a flying kiss. I got really alarmed, All of sudden I started feeling afraid, probably that person was a Gay, and there was hardly anyone at the busstand, probably there were some other people too, and I had lot of luggage and could not break for the run, I was also all alone on the bench, and I did not want him to come and sit next to me. Neither had my bus come yet, which meant I could not go anywhere else too, crazy thoughts started running. I was also getting embarrassed at myself being frightened by this very old man.

Not knowing what to do, I just looked away from him, started observing the flooring for the heck of it, hoping that he would disappear, and later when i looked up thankfully he had already past my bench, and felt glad. But when the trumoil in brain had subsided, a little thought with clear mind, I realized that he was probably asking me if I could lend him a smoke because it was also a very cold night. Anyways I dropped his thoughts, and started thinking of something cheerful.

But after couple of minutes or so I again spotted him, he was sitting somewhere in corner, eating a orange and with a "bidi" in one hand. Probably some smart enough fellow had understood his flying kiss...

Back from home.....

My blog has been silent for a long time, but had such a good vacation back home.... that did not find time to blog.

Nothing interesting, except that when i was taking an auto to station, I happened to talk to this auto guy (this has now become my habit, as soon as i get in to auto, I ask "Bhaiya aap kahan se ho?" and then it goes on...). This fellow studies in college and autos in the evenings to get his finances. He did not even charge me for extra luggage, and his attitude was amazing. Inspiring. I wish I could have got his phone number.

I really feel sad when I hear people cribbing about autowallas. Most of the autowallas I have come across have been really nice poeple. I think we completely miss the point that it is very easy to be good mannered and nice to people when you earn 30k a month sitting in AC office, but I guess it would difficult to be nice and cool when you are earning harldy 10k a month and driving all day on bangalore roads, getting harrassed by traffic police man and what not.

Give them a break yaar..Smile..Talk and the auto'ing experience would be nice..

Cheers

Something more about MEEEEEEEEEE...

Dude prasanna tagged me to write something about myself....

• The earliest vivid memory that I have of myself, was my very first day at school. Pa had left me and disappeared somewhere, and since there were more than one rajesh in our class, teacher was asking me my surname. And I did not know it. And I was feeling so afraid and imagining all the dreadful things that might happen to me. Was getting so angry at my parents for not telling me my surname and sending me to school to face this. I dont remember what happened after that..
  

• After 10th I qualified fora railway recruitment board exam, according to which i was to undergo a diploma in railway college in mumbai and then i would get a job as a booking clerk or a TC. Everyone in my social circle was like you wuld get a government job at 18 cool, and that my life is set and so on. Even I was happy. BUT there was no hostel available and I was supposed to stay in Bombay alone, and this was not at all agreeable to my mom. So I stayed home, did 12th appeared for JEE and so on....Now I feel so glad about it.

• I was a very sober guy in my hostel days, known only to my batch mates and wing mates. But there only sprouted the PJ devils in my mind. Our room was called a PJ room. I remember once when someone came to our room

"Do you have scissors?" he asked
"Do you want small scissors or big scissors" back went the reply
"Big ones" he said
"We dont have it"
"ok give small ones"
"that also we dont have" went the reply

• Ofcourse IIT hostel was fun, but then after IIT, moved in to bangalore and started staying at Mulani Mansion. That was awesome fun for two and a half year which included going for long drives on outer ring road (airport road was great in those days), and late night teas at IISc teaboard, also police catching us for putting TV at high volume. The christmas party that we had staged there just before we were leaving, was a grand conclusion to a memorable stay.

• As a kid I played a lot of "Ghar Ghar" with one of my cousin, wherein we used to act as couple. Till today we share such a nice bond, feel happy seeing her.
  

• I hate my name rajesh, i wish i had amore funky name like ronit, rohit, rahul etc. I love GOLI instead. Somehow Goli seems to have some personality and Rajesh looks commomplace and bland.

• My earliest heart throb was some girl in my school, she used to be the "headgirl" and I "headboy". So we did lot of things together. Before entering IIT, I had this sweet dreams of marrying her and so on, but first semester in IIT, I got so engrossed in the world of brotherhood and homohood that i completely forgot her.

• I do feel that for me always right things have happened at right times, I have been very lucky. I have made great friends, even though lots of times I crib about people and things, but at the bottom, I have always had friends doing lot of nice things for me and lot of nice things to feel happy about. :D.

Now to propogate things further, would like to tag the following
anant : He writes/quotes lot of nice urdu stuff and I absolutely love his blog.
Prits: I guess noone can beat him at the frequency of blog. There is always something nice to read.

Memory Speaks : An autowallah about Bangalore and girl from Baneras

"I have been driving auto from last foury years. There was no signal in bangalore during those days. Around 1970 the first signal came at corporation. Minimum fare during those time used to be 40 paisa, and used to have the turn over of about 10-12 rupees per day, house expensewas about 5 rupees.

In those days education was not considered important so i studied only till 5th class, and whatever I studied i did fine, but spend my childhood doing nothing, just played, therefore had no other choice but to drive autos. I still regret that. We used to go for movies once in a while and wahida rehman was my favourite heroin. Apsara was the first airconditioned cinema in bangalore.


Got married at 22, but i did have an affair with one girl, she had come from baneras and used to stay next door. She used to sing very well and we used to sing songs together. Never got to kissing her. We used to hold hands and roam in a park in bysandra. This itself was a big thing in those days. She left for baneras one fine day and then we used to communicate via letters, there were no phones then. She used to write in hindi, but i did not know hindi (I only know urdu), so i used to get the letters read and written from one of my friend. But slowly it died down. Eventually I got married, my wife found out those letters after marriage and burned them, but I have kept one photo preserved. The funny thing is that the girl returned after 20 years and now she stays quite close to my place, she also has her kids and I also mine. But we dont talk about the past.

I still cherish the time I spent with her, woh baat hi kuch aur thi,

Have got my son to study in english medium, because i do understand the importance of education. And he is doing a job in government office now.

"
There was a glow in his face when he was talking about his lost love and lot of pride when he told me about his son doing a government job. And when finally I got down from the auto near my house, he took my phone number. He said "I do come for a hair cut at the shop next street, when I come next I will get her photo, and you can take a look".

I could not help but smile at him. Went home feeling happy. :D

Piyo Glassful Doodh

I had always been facinated by this song from Kunal Ganjawala. Some time back he had sang this song on radio city with a guitar and it sounded great. I would also like to do this song once on stage with a guitar :D.

Sing it aloud, I think you would like it.


Doodh doodh doodh doodh doodh hai wonderful
Pi sakte ho roz a glassful

Doodh doodh doodh doodh doodh, wonderful doodh,
Piyo glassful

Garmi me dalo doodh me ice
Doodh ban gaya very nice
Piyo daily once or twice
Mil jayega tasty surprise

Doodh doodh doodh doodh doodh, wonderful doodh,
Piyo glassful

Doodh hai must in every season
Piyo doodh for healthy reason
Rahoge phir fit and fine
Jiyoge past ninety-nine

Doodh doodh doodh doodh doodh, wonderful doodh,
Piyo glassful

Charon aur, mach gaya shor
Give me more, give me more!

Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme wonderful doodh
Piyo glassful doodh

To do or not to do..

When I joined creative writing class recently, I was wondering if at all I should indulge in such a thing, and ofcourse there were lot of people around who would just laugh at the very idea. (How can someone teach creative writing, and grrr grrr and blah blah). But now I think that it was a great thing to do. It is not that I have become a great writer, or great poet, but the exposure has been great. These days when I read a book or poetry, subconciously have started appreciating metaphors, rhymes, use of language etc. While watching a movie, I have started noticing camera moments, angles etc . It just makes the whole experience much more richer. And probably someday I will too write a "one milllion copies in print" wala book.

I do believe that our mind has infinite capacity, just need to give time to cultivate and nurture.
Would like to quote Biju, he had put the same thoughts beautifully

"I believed that talent is inherent in an individual that stems out, get some nourishment and evolves to add some meaning to what we call life gaurded by the rules of nature. But i learnt that above talent sits thought. Deep inside in some corner, every thought lives a life, in a same way we live. The more u give time to each thought, the more it lives. Thoughts which don't get time will eventually die. Your body speaks the language that ur mind understands and it can really stretch to any limits you desire. In short "nothing is impossible".."

Wonder if it could be put in a more better way, (I absolutely like Biju's writing and wish he would blog more).

I also do remember the following quote which I had read long time back, somewhere, and it has just struck with me. Just sharing in a hope that you too may find it as appealing as i find it.

"If you do something, that turns out to be wrong, you can almost always put it right, learn from it or at least deny it. But once you have missed out on something in life, its gone. There would be a girl you never got to say right words to, the band you never got to see alive, the winning streak you never got to cheer, the brilliant retiring processor whose class you never took, the relative you never got very close to, it is long list. No matter what, try tokeep it as short as possible. "

So just plunge in, Happy Tuesday..... :D

.....will soon be forgotton

(Picture: courtesy Jisnu )

"My achievements may weigh a ton,
Might have many a battles won,
But like him, and endless many,
I will too, soon be forgotten"

(first attempt to write a poetry... :D )

Why should I be afraid?

Recently I have joined a creative writing class at CFD (Center for Films and Dramatics). Not that I have become a great writer, but the exposure to various froms of prose and poetry has been great.

Came across this poem, found it very touching....

If day in its dying,
Produces such splendour,

If light in its leaving,
blossoms with glory,

if stars in their shining,
have need of the darkness,

if life in its losing,
becomes a new finding,

Why should I be afraid?

Have a good week ahead... :D

Haiku

I have recently got introduced to form of japnese poetry called Haiku... and have been quite facinated by it.

Haiku is a short poem, which has 17 syllables (5-7-5) originated in Japan, I really liked them. Because so much is expressed in so less words.

Just to put some examples the following are two haikus, from Basho, one of the most earliest known (17th century) Haiku writers.. (Note: Since these are translated they may not be of 17 syllables)


Clouds appear
and bring to men a chance to rest
from looking at the moon.


Moon-light flower field
Daylight gives it back again
to a cotton farm.

I also tried my hand at one haiku.. and here it is

Momentary lightning,
Trembling thunder, Brings downpour
And a New Green World

The above is 17 syllable :D

How to fold a Tshirt

Non Stop Goli had become Full Stop Goli, until I came across
http://www.howtofoldashirt.net/
It started from a discussion at lunch table regarding the history of shirts and it ended at this. Same thing also uploaded at
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=4776825453418327083

I tried it and it works, works really good :D

Happy Tshirt folding on coming Independence day.

Me and Myself

Chander passed me this tag so continuing with it...Idea is to know people..

I am thinking about...
my friend birthday that is coming on sunday.... and of my first product that is coming.

I said...
Dont ever move on in life leaving unmended relationships..."moving on" is a nice term to describe that you dont have energy to solve the problems.... Dont give up on anyone, anything...Most of the time it is the small little extra step that you have to take to preserve relationship..

I want to...
to take a year off from work and travel around india...


I wish...
I had a wavy hair, so that i could do head banging when i play guitar


I hear ...
to music all the time... I love music


I wonder...
why people do things which they know would hurt other people..


I regret...
sometimes expecting a lot from life/people..... and not caring to appreciate what I have


I am...
GOLI


I dance...
very rarely... because i get very concious of my waist which refuses to move...


I sing...
badly, but i love to sing.. and am lookout for audience


I cry...
a lot...I think it vents out all emotions..


I am not always...
laughing, I want to learn to do that, "laugh no matter what"


I make with my hands...
a paper boat whenever i find a piece of paper in my hand..


I write...
postal letters to my sister......scribble some notes once in a while..


I confuse...
a lot with spelling like between "license" or "lisence" or between "advice" and "advise"


I need...
lots of things, space is not sufficient, starting with some mad damsel who would like to be with me, some more money, good guitaring skills etc etc...


And finally...
to pass on the tag to
Lohith: He has just started blogging...
prasanna: He writes good, I especially loved his last post :D..
pritesh: First guy to put me on his "blogs of note"...
Alistair: would like to know him