Almost Always The Truth

From Extra Hot To Medium

2009-07-19T00:00:00.000-07:00

YouTube should unilaterally take all the blame for making me feel drowsy at workplace. Without any second thoughts, I convict YouTube of turning the computer into an idiot box and me into an idiot- an idiot so engrossed in the content uploaded by fellow idiots, that before some sense got into him, it would be well past midnight. Subu, my pal at workplace, was another victim of this wicked website. Now, we were determined to write that damn code but the freaking lack of sleep was a big problem. Intervention from caffeine was unavoidable. Midway between breakfast and lunch we would barge into the break room, only to find a whole lot of people suffering from functional impairment,potentially due to late night YouTubing, thrusting their coffee mugs into the machine. Now what the machine puked was pure mud water, but let me not be disrespectful and call it coffee for two reasons-it contained caffeine and it was free! However, with all the politeness, I have to admit that after a couple months my eyes, lips and olfactory cells revolted in unison as the drink approached them. My tongue partnered with them and refused to cultivate the taste. Subu and me had to graduate to Seattle's Best Coffee. At SBC, the cashier would accept our order and pass it to the barista. Subu would almost always order a latte and I would almost always go in for a cappuccino. And we always wanted it extra-hot- for if we forgot to mention that, our coffee would be a warm as horse's pee I assume would be. After placing the order one fine day, I realized I did not mention extra-hot. "Make that extra-hot please", I said. "Same here", Subu added. "Sure", said the cashier to us and then turned to the barista and shouted loudly and clearly so that all the people in the queue could hear, "Both Of Them Are Extra-Hot...". Sure we are dudette. That day as we proudly marched to our workstations, we were grinning from ear to ear and beyond. The grins lasted well beyond the coffee. Needless to say, that was the best coffee I have ever had. From that day onwards, the hunks awaited their coffee break even more eagerly. Not for ever however. "What size", asked the cashier as we placed our orders a couple of weeks later. "Medium",said Subu. "Same here",said Neel. A large coffee was never my cup of tea, but for the first time I regretted not ordering one as she shouted loudly and clearly, "Both Of Them Are Medium..."

For The Love Of Our Country...

2007-12-12T22:26:00.000-08:00

Before I slam you Mr A.M. Naik, let me thank you for pulling me out of this writer's block. Mr Naik, if you are reading this post, you might want to read the previous line again, because that is the only time I am going to be nice to you. From here on, you will be slammed, slammed and slammed for your stupid and thoughtless remarks. [Article 1 | Article 2]

So what did you say about Infosys? Ah, you questioned its contribution to the Indian economy! How much thought did you put into it before pointing a finger at a company that gets close to 4 billion USD of foreign exchange, employs a workforce of about a hundred thousand, donates generously towards social causes and is looked at with respect globally for its corporate etiquettes? If you did not put much thought, I am surprised how irresponsible you could be. If you indeed put some thought into it, I wonder how wonderfully thoughtless the Chairman and Managing Director of Larsen & Toubro, India's largest engineering and construction conglomerate is! Which one do you choose? Your call, Mr Naik.

You also talked about profit margins being Infosys' concern. You said Infosys does not take up Indian work to achieve 26% profits. You added, "Now they say they are looking at India and China, forced by their profitability issue. Not because they have any love for our country!". Mr Naik, my stomach is still hurting and my head is slightly bruised. And you are responsible for it. While rolling on the floor laughing, my head hit the refrigerator. Don't you run your company for making profits? As a CMD, that should be the first thing on your mind! If L&T Infotech accepts Indian orders at the cost of profit margins and for the love of the country, I would certainly not pump my cash into the L&T Infotech IPO that is planned, for the love of my money. Your understanding of love for one's country and not making money to prove it sounds like quite a good philosophy on which you can have a genre of jokes. I am thinking if they should be called 'I love our country' class of jokes or 'Mr Naik' class of jokes. I choose the later. After all, how could I ignore your immense contribution to the philosophy...

Mr Naik Joke Example 1
Neel : Would you install anti-virus solution on my machine?
Mr Naik : No, it is not profitable. I won't do it.
Neel : Come on Mr Naik, don't you love our country?

Mr Naik Joke Example 2
Mr Naik : Guys, we have decided not to have increments at L&T Infotech this year.
Employee : But we worked so hard in writing code for the complex billing system developed for the small stationery shop!
Mr Naik : We did not do it for profits. We did it for love of our country...

I urge my readers to contribute a few more jokes for the love of our country. In fact, it would be a great favour Mr Naik, if you chip in with yet another one. Ofcourse, you would do that selflessly for the love of our country.

"So India doesn’t benefit with its own people. This makes me angry.", you said. Let me try to explain it to you. Perhaps, you should read this real slowly. I should be able to drive the point, I believe. Infosys, Mr. Naik, employs a global workforce. The workforce comprises of people from more than 35 nationalities. It is nothing like own people and disowned people. They are called Infoscions - or heirs to the Infosys Empire. Yes, it must have been a difficult lesson for you, I know. How would you not be surprised that there exists a company where everyone is treated equally, unlike your company, where there are different canteens for the workers and their bosses. The next lesson I recommend you is Murthy's vision. I hope you get blinded with it.
I want Infosys to be a place where people of different genders, nationalities, races and religious beliefs work together in an environment of intense competition but utmost harmony, courtesy and dignity to add more and more value to our customers day after day.

Mr Naik, your words sounded populist. The illiterate audience would clap their hands when you talk about your understanding of loving our country. They would do that even if you fire a missile into your own country and give your justification. If they were your intended audience, may be you should quit your job and focus on politics. I am sure, you would make an excellent politician.

Disclaimer : I am not a spokesperson of Infosys. This is my personal opinion and may or may not be inline with Infosys' opinion. I have blogged this not because of any relation I may or may not share with Infosys, but for the love of our country...

The Wrong Lever

2007-09-17T19:22:00.000-07:00

Swapnil's car is convenient. You just have to pop into it and after a three hour comfortable ride, you are in Bombay. You could sleep, you could watch a movie or you could play the channel of your choice. Adarsh's witty dialogs add to the frolic and the fight to avoid the bitch seat, which is now a tradition, makes Swapnil's car absolutely unavoidable. So when I decided to sacrifice my seat and hence the funvenience, for a colleague last Friday, it was not an easy decision I must confess. It meant being transported to the highway being sardined in a six seater. The term six seater is quite a misnomer. Ten passengers crammed into space meant for six and with a sweaty beast to my left, it was no mean thing staying alive. Perhaps, that fragrant pretty girl to my right, saved the day for me. Once at the highway, I followed my algorithm. Take the first bus to Bombay irrespective of the comforts it promises. So as other people at the bus stop twitched their noses, I put faith in my algorithm. Eighty bucks instead of the usual two hundred for the AC Volvo on weekends was quite cheap but another guy who got in wanted to seal the deal at seventy. I did not find the detested bus uncomfortable. It was an old white bus, which could do a 80kmph, with cushioned seats and window seats just waiting for me. I occupied the one at the rear end. There was no one around me except for this couple just ahead. As wind gushed in, I did not feel the need for an air conditioner. Looking outside the window, I must have been lost in my thoughts when this happened. The hand of the lady sitting right in front of me was crawling up my knees and onto my left lap. In the immediate moments that followed, I do not find or perhaps there do not exist, the right words to describe my shock. With a guy seemingly looking like her husband seated next to her, why would she like to play the bitch? I got my answer in the next few seconds as she tried looking for something in between the seat and the tin. She was looking for the lever to adjust her seat.

NOIS

2007-08-16T08:05:00.000-07:00

I had a feeling that this was going to become popular even as I was writing this at three in the morning. Yes, you read it right - at three in the morning. Somehow, this particular night, the onsite problem kept bothering me and I could sleep peacefully only after I finished the poem. If you are not an Indian software engineer and are reading this post, then the poem surely might not strike a chord. That is because you do not understand the term onsite and the situation and hence the essence. I would try to explain it to you, but how much of it would mean more than the rhyme scheme to you is any Indian software engineer's guess. An onsite, in very simple terms, is an opportunity for an Indian software engineer to work abroad at client location. This means s/he is handsomely paid for the job and returns back home richer. No wonder an onsite opportunity is the dream of every Indian software engineer. With all the modesty, though it would not be very evident after I boast, I can tell you that this poem has been read by atleast a hundred thousand Indian software engineers, who spend more than half their day reading and forwarding stupid forwards, one of which happened to be my poem. Methinks, the crux of writing a popular poem is not being a good poet but writing something that is close to the hearts of the audience. After, being forwarded without credits to the artist and being uploaded on a few blogs as if it was original content, I present it here with dual purpose - for you and to stake claim to my intellectual property.

No Onsite In Sight (NOIS)
The pressure was heavy, the schedule was tight,
Slogged like a dog, coded with all might,
Worked through the day, sat late in the night,
But for me, there is no onsite in sight…

She meets me for coffee, she catches up for a bite,
As I write this stupid poem, she is packing for her third long flight,
What did I do wrong, that she did right?
Why for me, there is no onsite in sight…

Want to climb the Eiffel, see Paris from that height,
Want to see the felled Berlin wall sipping beer light,
Want to bet that dollar as I see Vegas by the night,
Unfortunately for me, there is no onsite in sight…

Talked to my boss, with her I had a fight,
But she earns too much to understand my plight,
Now I don’t work that hard, I take it light,
Because for me, there is no onsite in sight…

The future is dark, it ain’t bright,
Life is routine, office bus I will board and alight,
Stay offshore and code byte by byte,
For me, there is no onsite in sight…

God's Own Company

2007-07-17T03:57:00.000-07:00

It was not exaggeration when Bala, the Infosys CFO, called Infosys God's Own Company at the 26th Annual General Meeting. If you are a client, Infy assures you experience customer delight and not just customer satisfaction. Employees are treated with care and affection. With Infosys Foundation, Infosys ensures it does its bit for the society be it Tsunami Relief, Rural Upliftment or Education. For shareholders, the less said the better. The share value has multiplied more than 2500 times and I am not counting the always more than face value dividends which are doled out year after year, every year. So much do the investors love it, that its Annual General Meeting is an eagerly awaited event. As far as I am concerned, I start waiting for the next AGM as soon as I come out of one. The Infosys AGM is a family event. The loyal investors who have become billionaires, flock to Infy AGMs each year with their families, with the women dressed in their wedding sarees. The event is no less glamorous and grand than the big fat Indian wedding. After attending the previous three AGMs in Bangalore and after mistiming my visit to Bangalore this year, I made it a point to take half a day off from work and attend the webcast from Bombay. If you are planning to attend the AGM from Bangalore, you better be at the venue atleast half an hour in advance to guarantee you seats in the auditorium, else you would be accommodated in the screening halls. The directors and all the other people who need to be on the stage, occupy their seats a few minutes before 3 pm, which is when the business actually starts. A clock keeps ticking on the screen accompanied by the soothing Infy song till it's time. At 3, the bell rings and there is a brief introduction session for the people on the dias. This is then followed by an inspiring but short speech by Narayan Murthy and some insights by Nandan. Very few people are interested in what follows from here onwards till they come to the financials. And if you think people are interested in the financials because of financials, you cannot be more wrong. The financials are the last things on the minds of most people over there and I happen to be one in the most people category. Yes, I now, without any inhibitions, shame and guilt hereby declare on this public forum, that like most other people I go to the Infy AGM to party and because by being there I feel proud to be associated with this company. Coming back to the financials presentation, this is where Bala steals the show and gets the audience glued back to the screen. His presentation in addition to having all the numbers, has comic animations accompanied by latest Bollywood hits playing in the background. By including the animations he ensures that all the audience is laughing. A section of the audience which is not computer savvy and has never received those animations as forwards in the mailboxes, laughs its heart out. This old guy, seated a few rows ahead of me, went into an uncontrolled bout of loud bursts after seeing the animation accompanying this post. I had almost risen from my seat to gag him, when he stopped. The point Bala was trying to put forth, how the competition fails miserably when it tries to replicate Infosys' Global Delivery Model, was definitely not the reason that triggered the howl. The other section of the audience laughs for a different reason. It laughs looking at the laughing section of the audience. Chawlaji, a star investor and star by the virtue of entertaining the audience at the last year's AGM, wanted a place for Bala at a laughter show on the TV. I am with you, Chawlaji. Were it not for Bala, the investors would be in the refreshments area much before the voting on the agenda. But if you thought Bala is the best thing at the AGM, you are wrong. The best is always reserved for the last. Investor speak would be a more appropriate term than labeling it as investor questions. There is no one who can question the report or the company. All the investors do is they come on the stage and sing praises full of adjectives for Infy, NRN and Nandan. The other directors are sidelined, but praise and public attention is the last thing on their minds, I am sure. Last year, one investor even presented NRN with a pair of rosewood elephants that signified peace of mind and happiness. This was after Chawlaji had the audience laugh its intestine out. Chawla first found a mistake in the Annual Report where some employee was stated to have joined the then 25 year old company more than 100 years ago. He talked about how much Infosys is valued by the people, by stating how the dowry of the guy he knows doubled to Rs 20 lakhs(USD 50000) just by the virtue of joining Infosys eventhough his work profile was just the same as in the earlier company. At the 23rd AGM, he had mentioned how profitable it would have been if his friend had invested in Infosys equity rather than spending on education of his five kids. I happened to glance at NRN's face at that time and it wore an expression of sorrow. I could go on and on about Mr Chawla but then it wouldn't look a post about Infy AGMs. Perhaps only way to be just to Mr Chawla is to dedicate a post to the man himself. I would do that Mr Chawla, if you promise to entertain us at the next AGM. Chawla was surely missed this year but then Infy is a company of investors with money who are very funny.There was this guy who questioned Infosys' values because they had fruit juice packets but no packaged water in the bag on every seat. Dear Infy Management, if you dont provide us with water at the seats next year, you better be prepared to drop Driven By Values from your punchline. The investors kept trickling in at the microphone. The chairperson of the AGM kept reminding them to be brief and upto the point but the shareholders were in no mood to give up their duty of entertaining the audience. I had a question too and a genuine one, about why the meeting was not held on a Saturday as it was for the last 3 years, but I was too shy to ask it, lest I were treated like a clown by the people who were in no mood to do anything but laugh, laugh and laugh. And finally when the sitcom was over, it was time to hog. What more could one ask for? Entertainment followed by a lip smacking snack. I fail to remember number of servings of fried fish I went for. The food at Bangalore is good. But it was absolutely awesome here in Bombay and that was the only thing good about being here. Nothing can beat the overall experience of being in Bangalore and watching the AGM live. Next year, I will time my visit well.

Disclaimer : The views expressed here are in no other capacity except a very small investor.

Game Of Chase : I Resign

2007-05-14T14:39:00.000-07:00

Yes, that's me standing in front of the magnificent Golden Temple. I managed to squeeze Amritsar in my schedule during my recent trip to Himachal, the land of the Gods. But writing about the trip is not the reason behind posting the snap here. Just check how fat I look. And that exactly is the reason why I gave up. Na, I have not given up relishing on cheese. I gave up the chase.
Saturday evening, I was at Shivaji Park with Abhiroop, sitting on the parapet talking things that make little sense. Just then a cab halted on the opposite side of the road. Cabs do stop there every now and then, but there was too much movement in this case so as not to notice. Four guys got out of the cab and started running in different directions. The cabbie got out too and started running behind them. Yes, he ran in different directions too. First, a few steps backwards and then a few steps forward. It was funny. And needless to say, he could not catch hold of anyone. The guys, I assume, were running away after not paying the fare. And one of these guys happened to run in my direction. A proactive citizen fully aware about duties and responsibilities, I ran to grab him. In the first few steps itself, I lay my hands on his shirt, but it slipped out. This prompted the thief(am fed up of calling him a guy) to run faster and after a chase of about hundred metres, even though I was not tired, I gave up. I gave up because I could extrapolate that there was no way in which the fat do-gooder could catch up with the thin thief. Giving up the chase right there saved so much trouble for both of us. It made little sense to run until exhaustion when the outcome was pretty clear. In a game of chess, grandmasters resign without dragging the game any further. The game of chase, I believe, should be no different. Though I am not as fat as I look in the picture and whatever plumpness you see is attributable to the stupid photographer and stupider photography skills, a few extra pounds need to be shed, is what I learnt from this chase. I need to spend some time in the gym. The next time, I am going to grab the bastard by his collar after a good 500 metre chase, deliver a blow right on his nose to vent out the frustration of this defeat, pull him back all the way to the cab by his hair and fling him on the bonnet of the car for the cabbie to deliver justice. But this time, I had to retreat and accept my defeat.
I walked back to Abhiroop. The cabbie drove away without thanking me. He must be in search of his next customer. And I continued with talks that make little sense glancing once in a while at the pretty young things walking past...

I Choose To Abuse

2007-04-23T01:44:00.000-07:00

It's a bad case of abuse. To prove how good I am when it comes to abusing, sometimes in addition to abusing over the phone, I also abuse the phone. After more than 4 years of manhandling, it still works. And that it still works surprises me so much that it is subjected to more abuse. My phone, a LG RD 2030, was never a high end model - not even when I bought it. But its ruggedness combined with the couple of manoeuvres I have learnt in my long association with it ensures that it is going to stay in my pocket atleast till the time it stops working and that is not something that I foresee happening in the near future. My favourite manoeuvre is the somersault. This trick involves throwing the phone high up in the air making sure it rotates, just like the acrobats do when they jump from the dash board. And more the number of revolutions it makes, the more satisfied I am. The other manoeuvre is the way I flip the phone into my pocket. This, unlike the somersault, mostly goes unnoticed, but I still love it. After all this abuse, my phone does have a few fractures, in addition to an amputation. But then, that again brings out the doctoral skills in me. My habit of holding the phone by its antenna finally took its toll on the phone about a month ago. The antenna got twisted and a surgery had to be conducted to take it sever it. As if this was not enough, the battery has loosened because of on an average three natural falls a day in addition to one artificial fall every week wherein I just throw my phone on the floor to showcase its ruggedness. I now have to bandage it every week with a black adhesive tapes, which I am sure besides giving the phone a cool look gives me a cooler look :-) The attention I get, in form of series of glances from the sweet things around, can ofcourse be credited to this phone. For all this, I choose to abuse.

I Am Not A Thief

2007-03-25T03:40:00.000-07:00

Neel Arurkar is back. I don't have any particular reason to explain my absence from blogging but if you thought after looking at the subject, that I am just out of solitary confinement, you would have lost your ass if you placed a bet.
When I was kid I used to wonder about the number of thieves and murderers in Bombay. Everytime a police vehicle zoomed past me with people not wearing khaki, I used to wonder about the rising crime rate in the city and at the same time feel proud about Bombay Police for catching so many criminals. It was only when I became smart and that took quite some time I tell you, did I realise that most of the non-uniformed people were police men in civil clothes, probably being transported back home after 16-18 hours of duty. Now it so happened about a month and a half ago, that my friends and me, were witnesses to an incident I do not wish to write about for the sole reason that I do not want this to be indexed by Google. We had to move to the crime scene to describe what we saw to the police. And not many public transport vehicles ply on the route where the incident took place. Just then we spotted a Police Car! I waved frantically and the car came to a halt. The policemen wore a baffled expression on their faces. Never before I suspect, had the policemen encountered the situation where their car was stopped. I asked them to allow us into the car as we were eye witnesses. They hesitated and asked someone seated in the middle row, who after some thought agreed to allow us inside the car. I opened the door near the guy whose approval was sought to let us in. This guy who was sitting near the door just refused to budge. This meant that we were not allowed to sit next to him. We had no option other than cramming ourselves on the back seat of the car. Later, we learnt that this guy was an Assistant Commissioner of Police. Big Guy, Big Attitude, His Attitude Sucked, And So Did He. The distance we had to cover was about a kilometer and sitting in that cramped seat for a short time was not a problem at all. After listening to the police gossip(yes they gossip and they gossip a lot), it was time for us to get down at the spot. It would take many years for that small kid who must have seen me travel in that police car to realise that, I am not a thief...

Ditto!

2006-12-08T10:15:00.000-08:00

As if the names Nirav and Niraj are not confusing enough, these two best friends, who used to always stay together, also used to wear identical shirts at times. Now that Nirav and Niraj work in different companies and in different cities and that I am more accessible to Nirav by the virtue of being his roomie, he wanted to use me as an substitute for his weird fetish of wearing identical shirts together. I politely declined his offer because I somehow do not identify myself with the Band-wallahs. The band-wallahs are the people who play at the band and are always dressed in uniforms. And someone like me who doesn't even know to play a single musical instrument, not even the tabla on a table, posing as a band-wallah would be nothing short of an insult to the tribe. To tell you how much I detest the idea, Lech and me decided not to have lunch together at office about a year and half ago because we were wearing identical shirts. That we ended up having lunch together, sitting as far as possible from each other, amongst our group of four, with Deepa and Kashy acting as saviours, is a different thing though.
Today morning, when I set out along with Nirav, wearing a flashy white crumpled cotton short kurta with bright yellow sunflowers, which I admit is gaudy, Nirav made the same suggestion which he thinks is cool and I think, with due respect to him, is outright stupid. I declined it yet again as politely as I could. Nirav, was one of the few who genuinely appreciated the shirt. There were a few others who appreciated it too, but I could clearly see the sarcasm eventhough they tried their best to hide it. And the rest; they chose to ignore the shirt.
Being a Friday, I started from office a bit early in Swapnil's car and got down at Sion at about 7 pm. From there, as usual, I took a BEST bus. After buying the ticket from the conductor, it was not difficult to find a seat in the relatively empty bus. Just as I sat on my seat and was about to let my breath out, I happened to notice this guy sitting on the seat ahead of me. This guy who was a typical Bombay tapori(vagabond is the closest translation in English, though the effect gets lost), the continuous tobacco chewing types,to my surprise was wearing an identical shirt except for the fact that his sunflowers were blue! I got up and took a seat away from him.

Please come back on Monday to see me wearing that gaudy shirt!

Pav Bhaji

2006-10-30T06:50:00.000-08:00

You may call it Pav Bhaji or Bhaji Pav, depending on where you have it. If it is on the roadside, it is called the latter. And when I was in Bangalore, the roadside option was never available, because it is a typical Bombay dish. So, I always had to opt for the hygienic version. Let not the 'always' in the above sentence misguide you that I always had Pav Bhaji. I simply love idlis and dosas and I used to have it endlessly during the time I spent there, but for a change, I used to go for PB. One such PB was ordered for by my friends and me at Jayanagar 4th Block, at a restaurant whose name I fail to recollect. It tasted good. But just as we were half done with it, we discovered an inch long cockroach being kind of camouflaged in the brown coloured Bhaji. My friend, in whose plate the roach was found, seemed to be angrier than us all and in his anger he forgot that all the bhaji must have been prepared at one go. I was calm and did not bother much until I heard the half hearted sorries of the waiter. Much much later and during my last days in Bangalore, I ordered for a PB at Anna Kuteera at Banashankari. This PB too was tasty. And just as I finished half of it, I discovered an army of ants sandwitched in my Pav(Bread). According to my estimates, I must have eaten not less than a score of ants. I marched to the manager. This manager, unlike the waiter in the previous case, apologised from the bottom of his heart. I could see the sincerity in his apology overflowing through his eyes. I let him go with replacement of just the bread, though I had the chance to order for any dish on the menu!
Now, I should try out the BP some day. On the streets of Bombay. I would not have any problems in accepting the hygiene standards for sure.

Dishonest Narayana Murthy

2006-09-23T05:53:00.001-07:00

Narayana Murthy is a dishonest man. I repeat Narayana Murthy is a dishonest man. He cheated me when I needed him. He knew that I was in a desperate situation and he took advantage of this fact. For a distance that would have cost me not a rupee more than twenty bucks, he charged me thirty five. Though incidents like these are not very common in Bangalore and occur in about 10% of the cases, I have not encountered even a single incident of cheating by rickshaw drivers in Bombay. (Snap Of The Driver Information Displayed On Bangalore Rickshaws)
On getting down, I enquired with him, whether he knew that he shared his name with the Infosys mentor, who is known for his values and integrity. He replied in the affirmative. Only if the rickie Narayana Murthy was as honest and humble as the software moghul, I would have been proud of him too. Money making and wealth creation are entirely different things and sadly, one does not understand this fact by merely sharing his/her name with a great person.

The Usual Disclaimer : The views expressed in this post in particular and my blog in general are my own and are in no case views of my employer.

Enjoy Your Bachelorhood

2006-08-26T05:45:00.000-07:00

Do you want to enjoy your bachelorhood? If yes, then just call 0944850948. If you are a bachelor living in Bangalore and around Indira Nagar, then they will even home deliver the stuff to you. Being a bachelor is difficult I know and this service will surely help you satisfy your needs. So what are waiting for? Just go ahead and place your order for North Indian food!

Kashy

2006-08-15T05:55:00.000-07:00

"Are you a Gujarati?", was my immediate question after Kashyap told me his name. "No, I am a localite", said Kashyap proudly. All the Kashyaps I had met before were Gujjus and that was what had prompted me to ask him such a stupid question. At that time, little did I realise that this bastard was going to be included in my best friends list. He occupied the cube next to me and along with Lech and Keyur, who occupied neighbouring workstations, we formed a closely knit group of four. After pulling him into stocks, a reasonable percentage of our conversations would be about the markets. Kashy, as only the people close to him are entitled to call him, soon bettered Lech and me on the penny stocks front and his picks include the likes of the now delisted fraud company Mardia Chemicals and under 1 buck company SRG Infotech, which earned him reasonable dough in under one week. His untidy cube was his another characteristic. Thousands of printouts, tens of books, a few new shirts, a toothpaste, a torch, certificates and marksheets, passport, table tennis rackets, a water bottle, an original F1 flag, neckties and a hand crafted bamboo pen holder are amongst the few things that filled his cubicle.

Kashy has now quit. He has ended his 3 year long stint with the company and is now gone to UTD to pursue his MS. Kashy you have left a void in my life. Come back soon!

PS: Da, will show you Bombay the next time you come. It is much better when it doesn't rain :-)

Guoyu

2006-08-03T04:56:00.000-07:00

"Guoye, Guoyi, Guoyo", chanted Anish in his cubicle on a deserted Saturday afternoon. "That's just 30% right", shouted Guoyu who sat three cubicles away. Guoyu Wang is an intern from Shanghai who is working with us and no matter how hard we try it is next to impossible to pronounce his name. His Western classmates at his University call him Goyo and so do I when I don't feel like calling him G. Yes, I mostly call him just plain G. It is much simpler that way and the best part is that he doesn't mind. Having Gouyu here is fun. His description of Shanghai have convinced Anish and me to visit it atleast once in lifetime. This is apart from so many places he discussed with Anish that are worth visiting. In addition, we also got our names jotted down in Chinese. Chinese, I must admit, is quite pictorial and a beautiful script. But at the same time it must be pretty difficult to learn for someone who is not from China. I must state that it is not possible for me to write his name in Hindi. This is because of the reason that Hindi does not have the letters in its alphabet that are required to pronounce his name. All said, I have given up my efforts to twist my tongue in the required manner. I am sure Anish's efforts are on. But am sure he wont go beyond 30% correctness!

Don't Look At My Finger. Look Where I Point.

2006-07-18T07:49:00.000-07:00

This happened a few months ago. It was a busy afternoon at Churchgate, Bombay. The office goers were rushing towards their offices after lunch. The students were rushing too. Perhaps to the movie halls. And everyone, except me ofcourse, was rushing. I was roaming around leisurely in that lovely area when I heard the cries of "Jor Laga Ke Heisha". This is the typical cry of workers who are engaged in heavy activities like moving heavy machinery. When I looked around, I found about 10 workers engaged in moving a huge plastic water tank atop a six storey building. And then I looked around again and was surprised that there was no one interested in looking at how that was done. The workers had neatly hooked the tank to a rope which passed over a pulley(two would have been better I guess..) and then into the hands of the workers. On the top, was just a single guy who stood there without doing anything, but it was important that he was there. This guy, I suppose, was the Project Manager ;-) As the tank went up and up, I looked around. There now was a small rush along with me engaged in looking at this activity. The new entrants who joined the crowd, first looked at people and then turned their heads in the direction where the crowd's heads were focused. People need someone to direct them. Don't Look At My Finger. Look Where I Point.

100th Post!

2006-07-15T03:03:00.000-07:00

It was 99 till now. And now this is the 100th. It took more than a month to write the 100th post and I assure you that there is nothing special about it. Yes, the only assuarance that comes along with this 100th post is that, I will be back. I will be blogging atleast once a week starting today.

I had moved to Pune a few months ago and now I have moved to Bangalore for a few months again. This was one of the reasons I kept away from blogging. I was busy with multiple things, but I am sticking to one post per week...atleast.

Seventy Five

2006-06-05T07:10:00.000-07:00

I hate that name. Chandraneel is a hotel close to the place I stay at in Pune. The name is sad but the food they serve over there is okay. Three chapatis, a bowl of rice, one dry sabji, one wet sabji, dal, papad and curds in a dinner thali. There are a few places around that serve similar food, but they are always full and have bad SLAs when it comes to serving time. On the other hand, I always manage to get a table at Chandraneel and I am served within 10 minutes of ordering stuff, provided ofcourse I order the standard thali. So usually two dinners of the four in a week that I am forced to have outside home, I have food here. The waiters, dressed in dark green uniforms with ChandraNeel embroidered, are always polite and smiling when they take orders and serve. And this guy who serves at the wash basin end is the most smiling person at Chandraneel. That day, after i had finished my dinner, he came to me, to take cash. "Kitna Hua(How much?)", I asked, just for the sake of asking, being fully aware that the meal cost me twenty five bucks."Seventy Five", he replied with a smile. Surprised, I asked him the same question again only to be given the same answer. It was sometime before I realised that he was not well versed with English and thought "Seventy five = 25". The next time, I will correct him.

The Stare

2006-05-23T07:56:00.000-07:00

I never stare at anyone unless that anyone stares at me. But this time, it was an exception. I was traveling in a bus from Bombay to Pune. I boarded the bus at 6 am and was looking forward to have a nice sleep in the bus. I got a back seat and was seated next to this guy who too was looking drowsy. As soon as the bus started, I pulled my eye-covers over my eyes and tried to fall asleep. And as I was about to fall asleep, I felt something hitting my head. It did not take much time to make out that the guy next to me had found a comfortable pillow in my head. I pulled out portion of the eye-cover over my left eye and stared at him. Had it been a girl with silky, smooth, soft and shampooed hair, then I might have been more considerate. But this guy certainly deserved that stare ;-) After this, things were fine for five minutes. Then this guy again started leaning on me. I could not take it any more. I pulled myself out of that reclining position, turned towards him and with the eye-covers still on stared for a good two seconds in a direction where I felt his face would be. Immediately I could hear him move and shift away from me. After that stare, for the entire journey, I had absolutely no problems.

The Entertainer

2006-05-10T07:16:00.000-07:00

After traveling half way standing, I finally got a seat. There were seats where I could sit in the aisle, fourth on a seat of three, with half my butt floating in air. This is the norm in Bombay local trains when you are traveling second class, but I always prefer a comfortable seat. Bang opposite to me sat a Gujarati family, merrily chatting oblivious to the hot and humid conditions in the compartment. With a pretty girl traditionally dressed, her mother looked at me with apprehensions as I rested my butt on the wooden seat. As I was unintentionally eavesdropping to their conversation, this melodious and captivating voice stole my attention. He sung Chadhta Suraj Dheere Dheere and I realised he must be none other than the guy my father mentioned atleast a few years ago. My father was all praises for this guy and he liked the way he sung that particular song. With my back to him I waited for him to come near me so that I could drop a coin. I do not remember doing that for any entertainer before, but this was a different case. He sung and sung but he never reached me. Finally when my station came and I got up from my seat, I got a chance to see him. Decently dressed and a bearded fellow, this guy was different than most greasy entertainers who you see in Bombay local trains. Playing his home made musical instruments and singing simultaneously, this guy did not ask for a entertainment fee as others do. It was time for me to get down. I got down. I did not drop the two buck coin. Just because I was lazy to walk a few steps. I am still feeling a bit guilty for it. After all, he entertained me and I enjoyed it. Sir, I promise you four bucks next time.

PS : The entertainers in local trains are often branded as beggars. I beg to differ.

Smart Bai

2006-04-26T06:37:00.000-07:00

No one has seen her. Still she gets all the work done. She is our domestic maid who helps us here at Pune. She has the key to our flat and comes to work while we are in our offices. When we want to get a job done, we write it on a piece of paper and leave it on the table. Smart Bai comes, reads it and gets the job done. When she wants us to buy a packet of detergent or wants to take a leave, she leaves a note for us. Whenever it is salary time, we keep the money on the table. She takes it and leaves behind an acknowledgement. In India, where literacy rates hover around the 65 % mark, and which I believe are government exaggerated figures, finding a literate maid is a difficult task. But not so in Pune. Most of the maids whom I have heard about in Pune can read and write. India Shinning.

Carnal Desire

2006-04-21T04:27:00.000-07:00

After the exciting statue, let me now talk about carnal desire. I am a man of many fetishes. One of them is to have sex on the beach. Even after 2* years of existence, I have not had the chance to have sex on the beach. But last night I had a carnal desire. Enough you dirty minds. Sex On The Beach happens to be the name of a cocktail and Carnal Desire happens to be an ice cream they serve at Drizzle. Drizzle is a family restaurant at Aundh(Pune) close to my place. I did not want to go for an ice cream after dinner as such, but I gave in to Carnal Desire. I am not sure whether the restaurant owner knows what it means or is it just a stunt so that people try it out. Whatever. After ordering, I eagerly waited for it. In a few minutes, the waiter arrived with a scoop of butterscotch. I like butterscotch, but my desire of finding something exotic have been left unfulfilled.

From A Different Angle

2006-04-05T06:33:00.000-07:00

Sir Pherozeshah Mehta is known as the Father of Municipal Government in Bombay. What Bombay is today, we Bombayites owe a lot to this guy. A master in city planning, this former municipal commissioner of Bombay, stands tall in the bronze statue opposite the BMC Headquarters at VT station. But the people who built this statue were not that smart. They probably did not know how it would look from all angles. If you can spot the humour in the photograph, then fine. I am not going to explicitly point it out to you!

Swami Vivekanand, We Need You

2006-03-26T20:20:00.000-08:00

No, my memory is not failing me. My friend Mahesh, who hated Mathematics in general and Calculus in particular and to an extent where he considered leaving Integration for option for his 12th standard examination, often wished that he were Swami Vivekanand. With the photographic memory as Swamiji was claimed to have, he wanted to read a page, memorize it and tear it from the book, roll into a ball and aim it at the dustbin. Nor do I wish to deliver a speech like Swamiji did at Chicago where this master of oratory left the brothers and sisters gasping. My presentations laced with limited wit and more of sleaze are enough to impress the small audience that I have once in a while. And I do not aim to be selfless as Swamiji to hold the knife by its blade. But Swamiji, I still need you.
Now, what has happened is that I have a Dart board in my new house at Pune. Now before you arrive at any conclusions, let me clarify, I do not want to worship Swamiji for concentration power. With whatever concentration I possess or luck as the critic in you might say, I have been able to hit the bull's eye thrice, which is more than the number of hits all my roomies put together have had at it. But that is not the only record I hold. The top most hole on the wall is because of my misfired shot. And so is the left most one. Yes, I am also guilty for piercing that plastic folder lying not very close to the dart board. And I am not the only one who misfires. All of us combined have missed so many times that there now is an additional circle around the dart board. This circle of holes in the white wall is something that we need to hide from the landlord, whom I have not seen till date but I suppose is a nice person from what I have heard from Ajit. That day when he happened to knock at our door, Rajinder was careful to open the door to the minimum possible extent so as the landlord cannot have a peep at the wall. But then, that was only a temporary solution. Datta has come out with a permanent solution. A big poster of Swamiji to hide the wall. I am sure Swamiji with his serene face and captivating eyes will serve the purpose.

Uncle Neel

2006-03-20T06:41:00.000-08:00

Well Well Well. Uncle Sam happens to be the national personification of the United States. But Uncle Neel, let me clarify, does not stand for United Nations. It so happened, that I had a holiday on Wednesday on account of Holi, and Subh and me decided to go to Sinhagad for some trekking. Dressed in my oldest shirt, which I wear only in my bed, I set out for Sinhagad. The oldest shirt was worn so that I do not lose a newer shirt to some water balloon mixed with oil paint. Most people in Pune played dry Holi as opposed to dirty wet Holi they play in my area in Bombay. When I was just out of my building, I saw this cute kid, face smeared with various colours and with a water balloon in his right hand, walk towards me and say, "Uncle, can I throw the balloon at you?". I politely refused. But the point is he called me 'Uncle'. Damn, I am getting old :-(

One More Reason To Hate My Landlady

2006-03-06T07:06:00.000-08:00

In addition to the 10 reasons I published, here is one more reason why I hate my landlady. My landlady is a big cheater. I was thinking whether I should unmask her on my blog. If I disclose the details on my blog that would mean that I am getting personal on my blog, something which this blog is not intended for, but not that I have not done this in the past. For instance, when I was given bad service by the KSRTC, I bad mouthed Pasha on my blog. And to support me to make her information public, I have two very good reasons. Reason One : She is bad mouthing me whenever she gets a chance and whenever she meets anyone that we know in common. Reason two : I want to spread awareness about this dirty old lady so that none of you(I have a reasonable readership in my company) gets trapped and stays as a tenant in her house.

Let me now set the background for you. I stayed in that house for about 2 years and I had kept Rs 12500(about 300 USD) as a security deposit which my landlady had promised to return when I vacate the house. I left the house and Bangalore on 17th Feb and I was promised that the deposit would be returned by 1st March. When the old lady finally returned the deposit, in addition to the admissible deductions as stated in the legal agreement, she deducted an additional 2000 bucks. Any guesses why this money was deducted? Scratch your brains. She deducted this money because I posted her letter two days late. And what letter was it? It was some form sent to her car dealer in which she said she had praised him for his service. I seriously doubt that she is capable of praising anyone but then that is what she stated. I knew my landlady is a stupid lady but then what I did not know was she can be stupid enough to think of such a reason to swallow my money. There could have been better reasons that she could have given. She could have stated that she was a thief and I would have accepted that. Would this one not sound more genuine? And now when I phone her, she does not even have courtesy to speak to me. She just hangs the phone. But yes, once she spoke with me for a minute and she said, " Neel, be a gentleman and forget your 2000 bucks". The cunning lady knows very well that Neel is 1000 kms away and cannot do anything except a phone call a day. All this after I searched all the shops for the type of rat poison she wanted so that the rats do not nibble the wires of her new car. All this after the time and efforts I wasted in mailing some niece and wishing her on her birthday on her behalf(See the pic. Click on the image to enlarge. IMAGE REMOVED AFTER SOMEONE COMPLAINED ABOUT PRIVACY ISSUES.All the grammatical mistakes to be attributed to this former English teacher). All this after so many favours.

Just to clarify, my landlady is no poor lady. She is filthy rich but stingy. Infact, she has sold her house for Rs 65 Lakhs(0.15 Million USD) and will be shifting out soon. In the mean time, I am sure she would look for tenants. So if you are looking for a house in Bangalore, take care and avoid this landlady.

Details :

Owner Name : Ms. Satyabhama
Address : House No 43, 7th Main, 19th Cross, BTM Stage 2, Bangalore 560076.
Telephone : 080-26784241 (Unique key)

Related Articles :
1. Ten Reasons Why I Hate My Landlady
2. Slap On The Face

WWW Plus More

2006-02-23T05:08:00.000-08:00

It was wine, wealth, women and much more at the Mahalaxmi race course at the McDowell Indian Derby 2006. The fourth W that could be added is Wisdom that people kept showering on us. Right from Mahalaxmi station, Mukul and me could see enthusiasts who were rushing for the big day. One old man traveling in a cab had Cole in one hand and a set of handwritten papers with seemingly complex calculations in the other. We on the other hand, were equipped with just the last page of the Sunday Times and people around us in the BEST bus were looking at us as if we were big gamblers as we discussed which horse to bet on. Outside the gate, we could see pretty women dressed up like they do for Page 3 parties. Most of these women, who were wearing back-opens, went to the member's enclosure, the ticket for which was Rs 260. That does not mean that there were not any good looking women in the first enclosure, the ticket for which was Rs 25 and which was the obvious choice for us.If you wanted to use the cell phone inside the race course premises, you had to purchase a ticket at Rs 3300! When I asked the guy at the counter the reason for this, "kuch logon ko shauk hota hai"(some people have talking on cell phones as a hobby) was the crap that he gave me. Once inside, people could make out that we were amateurs because of the newspaper cutout that we carried. We hid it inside our pockets, taking it out only when necessary. There were hundreds of counters that accepted bets all around the place. Further investigations revealed that the counters were of two types. The private operators accepted bets from rich people and totalizators who accepted bets from poor mortals like us. Race number 6 was going to be the derby and we reached there about 2-3 races before the derby. All the races were 1800m ones except for the derby that was 2400m race. The noise as the horses neared the winning line was amazing. We had decided to bet only on the derby, but decided to bet on the races before that too after looking at the excitement around. As we stood in the queue, we found this guy with complicated calculations taking about a minute to place the bet. And when he placed the bet it was for Rs 20 :-) We placed our bet on Southern Regent, who had won the derby in 2005. We cheered for Southern Regent as it overtook the other horses to win the race. Imagine our chagrin when we learnt that we had placed the bet on the wrong horse. We sought expert advice before we placed bets on further races. For the derby, I placed my bets on Democratus and some other horse whose name I fail to remember. Mukul placed his bets on 3 horses that included Mystical, the horse tipped to win the race. "It will win", said one of the guys in the totalizator queue seconding Mukul. He said it with such style that Mukul probably could not resist betting on the horse. As we stood in the stands in anticipation, a veteran with an experience of 26 years advised us to get rid of this betting habit. He said that he knew a few millionaires turned beggars cases and advised us to come only for fun. He explained us the concept of pacemaker, something that I cannot understand till date. The derby started. There was silence all over till the horses reached the last 600m. People kept cheering for the horses they had bet on. Mystical lost. Most people lost too. I lost. Mukul lost. Velvet rope surprised everyone. The veteran who was advising us to stay away from betting, patted on my back and said, " Agli race main ghoda number 2 pe lagana"(bet on horse number 2 in the next race). The guy in the yellow T shirt sipping beer seemed sad. He was about to cry. I am sure he must have bet his fortune on the race. People who had lost threw their tickets away and there were people who were picking these tickets to see if they were lucky. We on the other hand were focusing our binoculars on the member's enclosure. "I was asked which horse will win the derby. And true to my prediction, the best horse has won", said Vijay Mallya on the speaker. What wisdom Mr Mallya. I am impressed. We bet on the next race too. I lost again, but Mukul won. He had placed a place bet on his horse which guaranteed him money if his horse came in the top 3. The race course was empty by then. No one seemed interested in the races after the derby. We decided to leave too. Now, I am eagerly waiting for the next derby.

Another Kind Of Zoo

2006-02-04T14:05:00.000-08:00

Dear Director DTE,

Please treat this as an official complaint letter against careless and don't care attitude at VJTI Application form Receipt Centre(ARC) while accepting applications for 2006 Maharashtra CET . I would be pleased if some action is taken though it is not something that I anticipate. Keep me in the loop!

Neel Arurkar
(MBA Aspirant -2006)
PS: This letter will also be posted on www.neelarurkar.blogspot.com

Dear Principal,VJTI,

Hope you understand the problem. Let the subsequent people who come to process their MH-CET 2006 applications face less hardships. Issue tokens, if necessary. VJTI is not a management institute like Welingker's, but I do not think that a little bit of management would do any harm.

Neel Arurkar

Dear Director, Welingkar's,

Job well done Sir. You may pass this mail to your staff and students. A good job should get due credit. Keep it up!

Neel Arurkar

Dear Directors/Principals of other ARCs,

I do not know about the process at your institute, though I hope that the things are better than VJTI. Treat this as just FYI.

Neel Arurkar

The Complaint Letter

Mukul and me had planned to go to Veer Jijabai Udyan Zoo at Byculla, Bombay yesterday. I was a regular at the zoo years before, when my parents used to take me there every week. I do not remember when was the last time I went to the zoo but before Mukul leaves for US of A and I leave for Bangalore, we wanted to make it. The plan was that after lunch I would submit my application form for Maharashtra CET at Welingkar's Institute and from there go to the zoo. When we went to the Welingkar's Institute, the show was well managed. Right from the entrance, we were led to the venue guided by both, the staff and notice boards. I was given a token number and made to sit in a comfortable classroom. Students hooked on to wi-fi, seated all around the campus with laptops, with music blaring from some, I liked the ambience at Welingkar's. But unfortunately my token number was 368 and the current token being processed was around 150. Rehan, who was seated next to me suggested that we go to Veer Jijabai Technical Institute(VJTI), which is situated about a mile away and had a much much smaller queue. We decided to take a chance. We shared a cab to VJTI.At VJTI, the queue was indeed very small. There were just 20 people in front of me! Mukul and me were happy that we would be on our way to the zoo as planned. But then the lazy and unprofessional officials at VJTI ensured that they
would mess with our plans. More than an hour after we stood in the queue, we noticed that the queue had hardly moved and there were still atleast 15 people ahead of me. Rehan, Mukul and me could not ignore the difference in the attitudes of the two institutes. At Welingkar's every one's comfort was ensured whereas at VJTI the government babus did not care a hook. If the MBA aspirants keep standing for hours, let them stand. So what, if they have paid a sum of Rs 1150 for the entrance exam and a percentage of which would go to the application collection centres(like VJTI, Welingkar's), customer satisfaction, leave alone customer delight was last on the minds of the VJTI babus. At 1600 hours, one and half hours after standing in the queue, I finally got a seat on a stool. There were still 10 people ahead of me. Now, I could see the babus processing the applications. There was just one computer on which the process of generation of hall tickets was being carried out. There were three people involved in the process. If rumours are to be believed, there were about 10 such machines at Welingkars. Even if rumours are not to be believed, Welingkar's were processing atleast 500 students a day. Compare that to 50 students a day at VJTI. Shame. Shame. Just then, a reasonably good looking girl wearing blue denims, a pink sleeveless T-shirt and a black bra that was showing under her armpits(Note : I am a good observer and not a cheap observer), moved her right leg in such a manner that it hit my left leg. After lady luck kicking me, it was the turn of this damsel, I thought. As if this was not enough, she rested her right buttock on my left shoulder. What was next, I wondered. Possibly, she could sit on my laps. After all, so many people have treated me like a non living thing. Take the VJTI babus for example. They treated me like a log of wood that could wait forever. This damsel was just another one. She was treating me like a stool, I suppose. Just then, another pretty friend of her pointed out what was about to happen next and the damsel apologised. "Sorry", she said. "I don't mind", I said. After this there was no action till about 1630 hours. With about 6-7 people still in front of me, the head babu announced with authority that the processing would resume after a break. Now, Neel cannot stand all this. Now, the conversation that followed between Neel and Head Babu, which was being heard by all eager ears in the hall.

Neel : Ab break kyon? Waise bhi kaam aaram se ho raha hai. Welingkar's main dekho kaise fatafat ho raha hai. (Why do you need a break? As it is you are slow. Check out the processing speed at Welingkar's)

Head Babu: (ignores. Does not even look at me)

Neel : (taps on his shoulders. Shouts even louder) Sunai nahi deta kya?Ab break kyon?Welingkar's main dekho kaise fatafat ho raha hai.(Can't you hear me? Why do you need a break? Check out the processing speed at Wellingkar's)

Head Babu : Wellingkar's Wellingkar's hai!(Wellingkar's is Wellingkar's!). Saying this he moves out of the room. But in a matter of few second he returns and starts working on the application forms again.

Head Babu : (looks at me) Complaint karna ho to kar lo. Wellingkar's Wellingkar's hai! (Lodge a complaint, if you want to. Wellingkar's is Wellingkar's! )

Neel : Aapne yeh baat maani woh achi baat hai. Aap khudko pehchante hai yeh jaankar mera dil khush hua. Main mere blog pe iske baare main article likhunga. Woh sab ko bhejunga( That you admit this I like it. My heart is filled with joy after knowing that you are aware of your capabilities. I will write an article about this on my blog and will send it to everyone)

After this, the Head Babu stayed in the room till 1700 hours--the time after which no new applicants can be allowed entry into the queue. He waited because someone had challenged him. He waited because finally someone had challenged him. The others in the queue did not say a word. The only thing they did to support me was to giggle loudly when the babu said, "Wellingkar's is Wellingkar's". They were mere statues but for that. The babu had to wait because someone in the room could raise his voice for his rights. The babu had to wait because someone in the room could raise his voice for everyone's rights.

My application process was completed soon after this. At 1710, I was out of VJTI. The zoo would close its shutters on me by the time I reached, I was sure. So I skipped it. After all I had visited a zoo. There is very little difference between Veer Jijabai Udyan Zoo and Veer Jijabai Technical Institute. Besides sharing a similar name, another similarity between the two is the fact that both of them are complete with animals. I do not think I missed the zoo on my Bombay visit.

PS:
Why are the officials at VJTI being called as animals?
a. They are indisciplined. Animal like behaviour.
b. They do not care for fellow human beings. 'Let them stand for hours. Who cares? Our buttocks are comfortably rested on these chairs!' kind of attitude.
c.Would fast become a rare species if privatisation picks speed. They need protection in a zoo.

Begging Beyond Boundaries

2006-02-01T01:52:00.000-08:00

It has been long since I have posted, but I suppose being in Bombay on a vacation is a reason good enough for not penning. With Mukul around, I have done so many things in the last few days, that it would take up considerable amount of time to write it all. But there are these few incidents that I cannot resist blogging.
Yesterday while passing time at Dadar TT before the 3 pm Rang De Basanti show at Chitra, a child of about 14, with his hands stretched, begged for money. This guy, dark skinned and thin, face smeared with yellow paint, with no shirt on his body and with the lower garment resembling a skirt, held a whip in his hands. Somehow, I felt that this boy was South Indian. "Nimma hesaru enu?"(What is your name?), I said, using whatever limited knowledge of Kannada I have. Sure enough, Ramesh replied in Kannada. I asked him a few more questions in Kannada. After this, he thought that I would pay, but then he was mistaken. I do not encourage begging. A kilometer away near Ruia, after I had the famous idli at Mani's, I met Ramesh's clone. Dressed exactly like Ramesh, his name was something that I could not decipher even after asking him twice. This chap was from Gulbarga in Karnataka. These incidents of beggars coming from a different states are not isolated ones. How can I forget the Marathi family that I encountered on the streets of Bangalore,not once but many times? In this era of disappearing boundaries, can this profession be left out?

Barber Michelangelo

2006-01-21T02:57:00.000-08:00

Mukul is in India. A few days ago he was here in Bangalore too. The following text in italics was written by him a few years ago during his engineering days.

The reason Michelangelo was deemed a genius was not only due to
the fact that he was a great sculptor and painter but also because he
had a thorough understanding of the human psyche. This skill is relevant
for engineering students even today.
In 1504 when Michelangelo was working on this masterpiece in
marble- The statue of David – he worked in complete secrecy, not
allowing anyone to see the statue. However just before he finished the
statue one Roman V.I.P. managed to get permission to see the statue. The
statue was indeed magnificent, but he thought he should make some
comment. So he told Michelangelo, ”The nose is too thick”. Michelangelo
said nothing. He climbed upto the nose of the 4-metre statue. Concealed
in his hand was some marble dust and as he pretended to chisel away he
let the dust drop slowly. When he climbed down, David’s nose was
unchanged but the V.I.P. looked approvingly and said, “It’s fine now.”
Cut to the 21st century. As I queued up to the teacher for her
signature on my file for submission, everything was in order but then
freeing a student form this term-work burden on his first try was
against her principles. So she looked keenly for a mistake and finally
said, “The lines in the flowchart are all crooked. Straighten them.” I
went back to a nearby table and pretended to work on the journal with my
pencil and eraser. When I went back to her, the flowchart was as it was
but this time she nodded and accepted the file saying, “It’s okay now”.
I walked away thinking, Michelangelo would have made a great engineer.

Now that day I had been to the barber. As always, I had asked him to cut my hair as short as possible. When he thought that he had cut my hair as short as possible, he asked me whether I was satisified. I asked him to trim it further. The barber told me that any further trimming would not suit me but I refused to budge. The barber then started to making louder noises with his scissors, but then he was not cutting any hair at all...well almost. After a minute or two he asked me if I was satisified. I nodded my head. I walked away thinking, Michelangelo would have made a great barber too.

Ten Reasons Why I Hate My Landlady

2006-01-11T05:02:00.000-08:00

1. Asks me to send mails to her niece in the US wishing her on her b’day,anniversary etc. The mails always contain “ May the Lord Venkateswara of the seven hills bless you” .
2. Asks my roommate to swear on his mother about not telling things about me that she has told him, to me.
3. H and S are two gems. Neel is a Bambaiiya Tapori. “Let Neel keep his Bombay tricks with himself.” , she tells H.
4. Neel is a drunkard because he boozes once a month at home and leaves the bottles behind.(She assumes that I alone booze)
5. Asks me to get tenants for her first floor 3 BHK. Wants to cram 8 ppl there and wants to charge 2000 per month. I tell her that’s too expensive for a flat 1 km away from the main road. Gets mad at me.
6. When I ask for my deposit in return for getting tenants, she gets annoyed. ( I am still searching for tenants :-) )
7. Swears at previous occupants. Always abuses them.
8. Asks me to contribute for a 700 year old temple that her forefathers have built somewhere.
9. Claims to be a communist. Says she is a communist because, she eats what she earns. When I say, ”so do I”, she thinks it is rude.
10.Uses the house maid as a spy.

Slap On The Face

2006-01-04T06:07:00.000-08:00

I am not very good at arguments. At times, eventhough I am right, I miss some statement which could have left the other party searching for a reply. And I discover that statement after the argument is over. Over the past few months, I have been making a conscious effort to improvise. I liked how my father argued with someone during my last trip to Bombay. And I liked the way I argued with that person too. Talking about Bangalore, I love arguing with my landlady. My landlady is a shrewd and stingy old lady . My next post is going to be Ten Reasons Why I Hate My Landlady. Now, my landlady is about to sell her bungalow in which I stay. I met the would-be landlord in my landlady's house which is on the ground floor of the bungalow I stay in and he asked me to vacate the house in April so that he could carry out renovation. Some days later, I talked about the renovation in April with the landlady. She was adamant that the would-be landlord never talked about renovation. A few days later, I met her again. This is the conversation that we had :

Landlady : Neel, can you give me in writing that the new landlord said that he is going to renovate the house in April.

Neel : Why should I? Do you think I am lying?( She talked about this with Harish,my roomie and said that Neel was lying)

Landlady : No, I want to show it to the new landlord. That would prove that he said that. That would be a slap on his face!

Neel : Why don't you ask the new landlord to give me in writing that he did not say it? That would be a slap on my face!

Landlady, pissed off by now, shouted at me. From that day, she has never talked to me.

Hookah And Beer @ Hypnos

2005-12-26T06:21:00.000-08:00

Last Friday, most of us from our project team went to Hypnos. We were accompanied by Osama, who works as an intern with our team and Owen, who was spending his last few hours before his flight to NY. Hypnos, which serves Mediterranean fare, is the best amongst the pubs that I have visited in Bangalore. Apart from the food, I like the ambience and the Hookahs. Well, I do not smoke cigarettes and if this is to be believed, Hypnos serves tobacco free hookahs. The hookah that we ordered was mix flavoured. A couple of puffs later, I could smoke the hookah without coughing. This was my second time with the hookah and this time I had made a note of all the hookah etiquettes. This site has quite a few of them, the most flouted one being When sharing a hookah and you're done smoking for the moment, place the hose down on the table for the next person to pick up. Don't pass it directly. The other etiquette Don't take too many photos in a hookah lounge, it disturbs the atmosphere was also flouted by Keyur who took 100 + photographs. A few of them, that are intended for all kinds of audiences, are here.

The Hookah, supposedly tobacco free

My experiments with the Hookah

That's my wrist watch

Taram Ching

2005-12-19T07:15:00.000-08:00

Like all the other politicians, Dharam Singh wants to rename Bangalore to Bengaluru(or Bengalooru). Sick. Sick. Come 1st November 2006 and the name change will take effect. These politicians who have no other work to do have already renamed the city I love the most from Bombay to Mumbai. And now they are doing the same to the city which is second on my list of cities that I like. Ooru in Kannada means a village and the name change will ensure that government will find itself at ease while answering questions relating to Bangalore's poor infrastructure post 1st Nov 2006.

People : How can you explain the poor infrastructure in the city? It takes us 2.5 hours to travel 15kms.
Govt : City? What city? It is a village now. Forgot we renamed it on 1st Nov?We are infact about to start work to break down Hosur road and convert it into a mud road. It has been suggested by a Jnanpith award winner. You will have to use bullock carts to commute. And that way we can feel more closer to our culture, our tradition.
People : So how will we reach to our office in Electronics City?
Govt : Oooh! So you are the IT guys. B******s. You land grabbers. Most of you come from outside the state and speak Hindi. For your information, we are about to raise down all the companies in Electronic City and convert in into farmlands. That way we will feel more closer to our culture, our tradition.
People : (throw branded footwear at the govt)
Govt : You should not throw branded footwear at us. Remember the bill that we passed last month. From now on, you should only throw cow dung and pig dung at us. That way we will feel closer to our culture, our tradition.

Enough is enough. For how long should I tolerate these stupid politicians? For how long these people will continue to appease masses(there are people like that) by changing names and making them feel them closer to their tradition and culture. And I cannot do any thing about it. I have decided to rename Mr. Dharam Singh to Taram Ching. And I want that to be a democratic decision. Please cast your unbiased vote.

Please Note : Looks like Dharam Singh himself has voted. Before this guy voted, the results were 26 in favour of Yes and 3 in favour of No. Ignore that rigger.
dt : 23rd Dec 2005.
To the rigger : By overwhelming majority, he has been renamed Taram Ching

From Dharam to Taram
Do you support my decision to rename Dharam Singh as Taram Ching?

Yes
No

view results

Neal N Nikki

2005-12-10T04:39:00.000-08:00

Me : Hello! Can I speak to XYZ?
The other end(ToE) : XYZ is not at home. Who is this?
Me : Neel
ToE : Who?
Me : Neel
ToE : Anil?
Me : Neel
ToE : Sunil?
Me : Neel... November Echo Echo Lima
ToE : Is it just Neel? Or something like Neelkant?
Me : ( bang the phone..f*** you)

This has been the typical conversation I have been involved in n number of times. Neel is quite an uncommon name in India. There are two types of people in India. Those who can understand my name and those who cannot. After more than 20 years(exact number of years not written to hide my age), I can arrive at a conclusion just by looking at the person whether he or she belongs to the first or the second category. For those who belong to the second category, the not so secular people wonder if I am a Hindu or a Christian. Some are direct. Are you a Christian? Others are not so direct. Like the mother of this pretty girl I happened to meet on Ranade Road.

Pretty Girl(PG) : Hi Neel! Mom, this is Neel.
Me : Hi! Hello Aunty.
PG's Mom : What is your surname? (Surname can provide leads about one's faith)

Then there is this league of people who tell me that I have a sweet name. It is. That is precisely the reason my parents named me Neel. On second thoughts, all four letter words are sweet.

There is one more way in which I classify people - People who spell my name as Neel, Neil , Nil and Neal. The ones who spell my name as Neel, do so because they know me. Those who spell it as Neil know Neil Armstrong. And the ones who spell it as Nil are illiterate SoBs. The fourth type of people who spell it as Neal is non-existent till now. But I am sure that the movie Neal N Nikki has been released, this tribe of people is going to outnumber the rest. Though people will spell me as Neal, this movie is doing me a great service in the sense that lesser number of people are going to indulge in the conversation like the telephonic conversation that was posted above. As a token of appreciation, I have decided to watch this movie.

Trivia :
1. As part of my research I do before blogging, I have learnt that Neal in Neal N Nikki is the truncated version of Gurneal.
2. I have never met my namesake.
3. If you happen to be my namesake or almost namesake(Neal,Neil or Nil), I would like to meet you.
4. If you happen to be Nikki or Nikita(Nikki in the movie is truncated version of Nikita), I would still like to meet you ;-)

Atithi Devo Bhavah

2005-12-01T06:02:00.000-08:00

Integrity - This implies that the person does not cheat the tourists and charges him a fair price for the service. This is one of the guidelines on IncredibleIndia.org. Atithi Devo Bhavah which means Guest Is God, is a new campaign promoted by the Ministry of Tourism, India. Last Saturday, I was at Mysore and this private bus guy, I suppose, had not seen the TV commercial in which a cab driver is shown cheating a foreign tourist. This guy almost cheated us before he was caught. We wanted to go to the Brindavan Gardens. We were waiting at a bus stop, when we saw this bus with the board saying that it goes to Brindavans. Before popping in, we asked the conductor whether the bus goes to Brindavans and he asked us to get in. We purchased tickets for our destination and were looking out of the windows as tourists usually do, before inquisitive Vihar asked the person sitting on his seat how long would it take to reach Brindavans. To our surprise we were told that Brindavan Gardens were exactly in the opposite direction and that the bus had started from Brindavans. We got up and demanded the money back from the conductor. The conductor asked us not to worry and he would take us to Brindavans on the return trip, which meant not only we would have to pay him more money but also that we would spend an hour more to reach our destination. The conductor even refused to stop the bus. But one shout from Swapnil and the driver stopped the bus and the conductor handed over the money. After we got down, I showered the choicest of the abuses in Marathi, which I am sure he did not understand but knew were some abuses. In return, the sob hurled abuses in Kannada with such a conviction that no one would believe that he was at fault. Tourists are meant to be cheated.

Mock CAT

2005-11-23T06:19:00.000-08:00

The CAT examination that was held on 20th November was more like a Mock CAT to me. I was totally unprepared for it. Okay, I know everybody says that, but I leave it to you to believe me or not. The day before the exams, the biggest headache was going to a shop, buying HB pencils(required for CAT) and then sharpening them. On the day of the exams, I woke up at 8:15, early by my usual Sunday standards. I got two plates of idli parceled from Upahar Nidhi, an Udipi restaurant on my street. One of them was for Keyur, who was also appearing for CAT. When I opened the parcel, which was covered in a newspaper, I was surprised to see this advertisement on the paper. It was a full page advertisement of a coaching class for CAT. There at the examination hall, my seat was on the last row, next to a window overlooking a chickoo tree. Almost everyone in the hall was wearing a frown on their face. The guy sitting next to me was sad. He did not even say a hi to me. I did not say a hi either. But that was because I did not like him. Actually I did not like anyone in the entire hall, except for the guy who sat in front of me. This guy who was wearing a wrinkled pista green coloured full sleeved shirt, sat in a relaxed posture, his arms resting on my seat. Before the exam started there was a complete silence in the hall and this guy broke it by tapping a pencil on the bench. People looked irritated because of this. I liked him for that. The other thing that I liked was the sweet voice making announcements like "All the best", "Please be seated" on the speaker. However as she kept on speaking, it seemed like a railway station, especially with the ding-dongs to start the announcements. When the paper finally arrived, it was as good as I expected it to be. I would have cracked the CAT were it not for the conspiracy hatched by the IIMs against me. Outside the window they planted beautiful girls, who made frequent appearances with their sole purpose being that to distract me. When the two hour paper ended, no one seemed relaxed. They were still frowning. Most of them would carry forward these frowns to the next CAT and then the next and then the next. And I will be there to blog it.

Things To Do Before I Am 30

2005-11-17T04:08:00.000-08:00

After watching Things to Do Before You're 30, I am tempted to write a small list. Ofcourse you wont find the ones that you would probably be wanting to find, but those are more or less the same as the sleazy ones in your list(okay, like a few in the adjoining picture). Here is a fairly honest list. Please note that the list is not sorted on any particular parameter. That means, they are not ranked by importance or the temporal order in which I would like to carry them out.

-> Get transferred to Pune
-> Get out of the tech field, possibly jump to finance
-> Start a small business, not a software company
-> Get married
-> Learn to swim ( I learnt to cycle in April 2004 in my office campus)
-> Learn to iron clothes and comb my hair
-> Devote some time for a social cause
-> Learn to cook good food
-> Travel to Valley of flowers, Manali in particular and North India in general
-> Visit Taj Mahal

Getting Bangalored

2005-11-10T06:38:00.000-08:00

Back to Bangalore, back to blogging. After 11 days of fun, frolic and good food in Bombay, I am back to Namma Bengaluru. Most evenings were spent at Marine Drive, Bandra Reclamation and Shivaji Park. I also went to Mohammed Ali Road with a schoolmate and had Chicken Red Kabab and Firni. Besides that, as always, I went for dinner at my grandparents' place. And that I have nothing exciting of that kind to do here, I am blogging ;-) That I am so nostalgic about Bombay, let me write about my fears of losing touch with Bombay...or rather the fear of getting Bangalored.

Incident 1 :
It was beyond midnight and we were returning home from Eighties. I completely forgot that there are BEST buses available at that hour too. That I was inebriated, is a different thing.

Incident 2 :
I was getting into the train with a bag strapped onto my shoulders. This obstructed some other passengers who wanted to get in. One of them shouted, " Itna bada bag lekar train main chadh raha hai"(he is getting into the train with such a huge bag). In my college days, I had mastered the art of getting into the crowded train without the bag getting trapped in the crowd. Anyway, I shouted back, "To kya bag lekar nahi jaane ka kya?"(So shouldn't I carry a bag in the train?). This reply proves that I have not completely lost touch with Bombay and Bombaygiri.

Back here, things are no good. The heavy rains that lashed Bangalore, have screwed the ceiling of my rented flat. There is fungus over my pillow(don't worry, I am not using it). After the nice 11 days and 5 days(from Oct 12 to Oct 16) that I spent in Bombay, I have arrived at this conclusion. Vacations should obey the Goldilocks Phenomenon -- they should neither be too short(a short vacation is no vacation) nor too long(damn difficult to adjust when you are back to work).

Blogging- Not A Priority For Now

2005-11-05T22:18:00.000-08:00

There are so many things I have been doing here in Bombay, that I do not have the time to blog. Today morning at about 0130 hours, I was in no mood to blog, but was thinking of posting this very post. Thank you google for not having this service up then. You provided me with an excuse for not blogging. I will resume blogging sometime after I am back in Bangalore. Damn. Today is my last day in Bombay :-(

Zeitgeist

2005-10-27T14:05:00.000-07:00

Zeit·geist
n.
The taste, outlook, and spirit characteristic of a period or generation.

The above was for people like me who have a poor vocabulary. Google comes out with Zeitgeist which contains the most popular queries sorted by many categories, one of them being geographies. Check out the adjacent image for popular queries from India in the month of August. I do not know what sureroute is. I clicked on it, but it was not too interesting to invest time in. The only results that do not surprise me are the search queries for Sania and Aishwarya. Equally surprising and interesting was the zeitgeist for my blog. I have subscribed to the w3counter that provides me with details of how people land onto my blog.

Searches that take you to neelarurkar.blogspot.com. This is top 10 sorted by no particular sort criteria.

1. Neel Arurkar(on google) : The most popular search :-) I did not know that people searched for me. Mukul does it once in a while to reach my blog when he does not want to type in the long url

2. Lasun Shev(on google) : First result is my blog.

3. Slap gif (on google) : I tried to google that and I did not find my blog in the results anywhere in the first few pages.

4. Arvind Mills (on msn and google) : Comments same as those for (3). Who looks through all the search results?

5. haircut(on google) : Damn. Again same comments as above. Now how does such a simple looking query lead to my page?

6. list of indira gandhi priyadarshini award 2005 winners (on google) : My blog is the first result. Now why would anybody search for that. If the pedha vendor is to be believed, you get this award for making good pedhas :-)

7. immoral in Ernakulam (on google) : Well, there is no immoral content on my blog. But the query does lead to my blog. I wonder what the person who searched it must be looking for. Any guesses?

8. udayan mukherjee (on google) : Now Udayan is the guy who presents many shows on CNBC, a business TV channel. If Udayan googles his name, he would be surprised to read what I have written about him.

9. piyush swain kaun banega crorepati 2 (on google) : Hmmm

10.how to buy dharwad pedha online (Google) : lol. Cant see the result now though :-(

A few other queries include dewdrop bangalore (dewdy you listening?), Neel Infosys( now who googles that?), Hindi Homophones, cutting all my hair off (wow!), squeaking shoes ( :-) ), udipi restaurant, Maharashtrian recipes and infoscion.

But this is the one that I like the most. Some one googled for KSRTC + Bangalore + Ernakulam and reached here . It is a different thing that on googling it now, you wont get it listed. Page rank at work? I did not want to write a Part III to "To God's Own Country", but just cannot resist. How can I let go the unprofessional behaviour of Karnataka State Road Transport Corporation (KSRTC) without leaving it open for searches on the web. I had written it long back and it feels good that it is mission accomplished for me. That reminds me I have to sms Pasha ;-)

The 3 In 1 Haircut

2005-10-22T02:44:00.000-07:00

This time I had my haircut at Shahnaz Husain's Salon in my office campus. I never had taken an appointment for an haircut ever before, but this time, I had to. I reached for the haircut ten minutes prior to the scheduled time, as asked by them. There were no film magazines lying over there and I spent my time looking at the two barbers, one chipping through a guy's hair and the other colouring another guy's hair. When my turn came, I was asked to sit in what was the most comfortable barber chair I have sat in. Now my old barber gives me only two options, short and medium length, but to this guy, I asked what would suit me. "Spikes", he said without hesitation, happy at the prospect of finding a guinea pig for his experiment. Hesitantly, I asked him to go ahead with it. After all, I was there for something new. He had barely started spraying water on my hair, when the electricity went off. That's Deve Gowda's contribution to Karnataka. And he doesn't think twice before pointing a finger at Narayan Murthy. Never mind. We have generators that swing into action in a matter of few seconds and Vinod was cutting my hair again. He was cutting my hair so slowly that I am sure Saumil would have enjoyed it. "Kya ek ek baal mast se kat ta hai"(Love the way he cuts a single hair at a time), he would have said. When the haircut was finally approaching its end, I smiled at myself in the mirror and told Vinod that I was looking more stupid than I usually do. He assured me that I would look good when the 3 in 1 haircut was done. "3 in 1? Wats that? I thought you were going to spike my hair up or something", I asked him, wondering whether this was Vinod's last attempt to save the poor dying guinea pig. He assured me that the spike thing was very much there and it was one of the three hairstyles possible with the cut. He told me that the other hairstyle possible with my haircut was the Sachin Tendulkar style and this was the in haircut in town. After this I was whisked away to for hair wash and shampooing. I thought that this was included in the haircut, but it was only when I saw the bill that I realised that I was fooled into it. Anyway, it was a different experience(the shampooing part..not the fooling part) and I enjoyed it. Here is the bill for you :

Haircut : Rs 40
Hair Wash : Rs 25
10% Service Tax : Rs 6
--------------------------
Total : Rs 71

After getting out, I was a bit self conscious about the spiked hairstyle, but I was happy when I found no one was looking at me. On my way to my desk, I was thinking which hairstyle I should wear the next day, when I realised that the barber had not demoed the third hairstyle for me. I decided not to turn back and ask him, but nevertheless I was curious. I did not have to wait long. The next day when I was coming to office I combed my hair and looked in the mirror. I looked the same as I look everyday. This was the third hairstyle. My usual self.

Kaun Banega Crorepati ?

2005-10-18T05:06:00.000-07:00

Modeled on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, Kaun Banega Crorepati is its popular replica in Hindi. And the other day, I found out that they have a Tamil version too. The Tamil version is aired along with the Hindi version and there is perfect synchronization between the two. The prize money if you reach the top is Rs 2 crores or Rs 20 million or USD 444444.444. Damn! That is big money. And one such guy rumoured to bag that money, works in my company. After reading newspaper reports and before the episode was aired, I mailed him. Well, I did not know him, but nevertheless decided to congratulate him on this. I have deliberately censored all the contact details, so as some stupid person does not contact him for congratulating him(as I did) or ask for money. When the show was aired, I sat glued to television just because a fellow company-mate was playing the game show. There sure are better things to do than watch KBC. Piyush Swain answered questions systematically giving explanations to every question and eliminating the wrong options one by one. But then, he did not reach the 2 crore mark. He exited the game when he had won Rs 50 lakhs or Rs 5 million. But he looked happy and so did his wife who accompanied him to the show. And why not? 50 lakhs is not a small amount. Congrats rich boy!

Please See : Unrelated to the above. I have come across this great blog by Gaurav Sabnis. It is about his life after he linked to an article that talked about the fraud that is IIPM. Check this out. The posts of your interest should be I'm disconnecting my cable connection, An Update and The Silence. Make it a point to read bottom up and visit the links that Gaurav has in his posts.

Ten Things @ IDF

2005-10-08T05:27:00.000-07:00

I did not come to office on Thursday and Friday. I was at the IDF. I am tempted to write down the 10 things that I did / saw over there.

1. At the coffee queue, I saw that people loved to stand at the counter where there was a long queue.
2. At the registration desk, I was handed over a name tag. I found people wearing name tags having different coloured bands. My name tag had a dark green coloured band. I asked the girl at the registration desk, what the green coloured band was for, to which she replied that it was for the Delegates. Later I noticed someone in some other coloured band, who to had delegate written in bold on his card.
3. Intel was giving away IDF dollars which could be redeemed against T shirts, bags, watches and other stuff like that. I got two hundred IDF Dollars for a stupid question that I asked.
4. It was not long before I realised that most other people were asking even more stupid questions just for the sake of getting those IDF Dollars. My colleague told me that he even found one man begging for more IDF dollars.
5. I was attending a product demo with hands on experience and there was this guy who came and started sharing the computer that I was using. He asked me what the product was and I gave him a brief introduction to which he kept nodding his head even though he did not understand anything that I was saying. I wonder if people realise the same about me, when I keep nodding my head.
6. When it was time to redeem the IDF Dollars, there was a long queue. I waited till it became shorter. Finally, when my turn was a few people away, a beautiful girl draped in a saree, barged into the queue, right in front of me. When the guy behind me protested, I told him that I allowed her to do so because she was beautiful. He smiled at me and kept quite.
7. When another guy tried to barge into the queue, possibly after seeing that I allowed the girl to break the queue, I told him that he cannot do so because he is not beautiful. He did not look at me and jumped into some different queue.
8. I found people walking away with tens of T shirts. There were many people doing this and there were many people laughing at such people. These must have been the people who were expert at asking stupid questions or begging for IDF Dollars. I carried home 2 T Shirts. One for me and one for Keyur. Keyur gets this for talking to me all the time over phone while I stood in the long(relatively) queue .
9. It was too chilly in the halls. The ACs that they had put up, freezed me to death. I listened to all the speakers, most of whom, I guess, had boring me to death as the sole purpose of their talk, with my hands folded in such a way that my fingers found warmth in the region just below my arm pits. Finally, when a feedback form arrived, I wrote this in the suggestion section : I would appreciate if you would make arrangements for some good rum the next time. It is too chilly in here :-)
10. I found that the event managers had employed underage kids who walked barefoot collecting trash on the carpets with their bare hands.

See That Guy

2005-10-03T08:22:00.000-07:00

This happened on Saturday. I was walking back after dinner along with Nirmal, when this happened. A lady, about 60 years of age, with her grand daughter in her arms, streched out her arm and pointed straight to me and said, "See that guy". It took me a few seconds to find out that I was collinear with her eyes and a gai(pronounced as guy,cow in Hindi).

Long Standing, Yet Outstanding

2005-09-25T05:31:00.000-07:00

Usually when I come back from Bombay, I get along something to eat for people here. And that something always used to be some specialty from Bombay like Dhoklas, Kachoris or Chaklis. But the last time, I got two boxes of Dharwad Pedhas(Dharwad is in Karnataka). There are lots of hungry beasts in my team who are just waiting to pounce once the 'Sweets At My Desk' mail is sent to the group. So, in order that everyone gets a fair share, I had to put up the notice asking them not to have more than half a pedha. The pedha box was funny. The brand name Babusingh Thakur was written prominently on the gold shiny background. And the box had proud proclamations about the awards that his pedhas had won. Although, I do not know whether any such awards have really been showered on the pedhas, I will list them down here(the photograph is not very clear).
--> Winner of Rajiv Gandhi Excellence Award 2002.
--> Provincial Co-op Conference Certificate 1925.
--> Winner of Priyadarshini Indira Gandhi Award 2001.
--> Awarded by Govt of Karnataka 1999.
--> Winner of Lord Wellington Medal in 1913.

This was not all. The box also claims 'The Name Of Traditional Quality Over The Last 150 Years'. And this line takes the cake..oh sorry takes the Babusinghs Pedha. Long Standing, Yet Outstanding(not in the picture). This refers to the long queue that you have to stand in the morning to be lucky enough to get the pedhas. Whatever...the pedhas did taste good.

My Cooking Exploits

2005-09-20T07:41:00.000-07:00

I have started cooking(read boiling stuff) at home. To start with I have purchased an LPG stove with a 2 kg cylinder, four small containers for salt, pepper, chilli powder and chat masala, spoons, a steel vessel and a steel dish. I already had a knife at home. And I have made a few dishes at home. The list includes roasted corn, Independence Day Special, boiled potatoes with salt, chilli, chat masala and lemon, Maggi:-) and sprouted beans with a tinge of lemon, chilli, salt and chat masala(tastes good). I love the fresh lime juice so much that I have tried making it in a restaurant when the waiter was not around and for the past two days I have been preparing it at my work desk in office. But then cooking is not always fun. Firstly, I cut my finger while chopping the vegetables. Then, I found a worm hiding under a cauliflower lobe and am not sure how many of them I could not find. Boiling eggs was a disappointment. My steel vessel was small and when the water boiled it overflowed on the burner and I could not find any way to prevent that from happening. The eggs were raw when I broke open the shells. I am looking forward for my October trip to home. The menu card is sure going to grow after that and I will learn dishes that are more difficult. But in the mean time, you can post your easy to make recipes in the comments section or mail them to me.

Time To Slap

2005-09-12T04:14:00.000-07:00

I selected this title not only because it rhymes with my previous post but also because I got an appropriate gif that matches with it. Incidentally, I got this gif from the same blog from where I got the gif for my previous post. This incident dates back to Wednesday afternoon, when I heard a knock on my door. There was this guy waiting at the door with two letters. One of them stated that he was deaf and dumb and the other requested a donation. This donation, the latter letter said was going to be spent towards the payment of his college fees. People who had donated had written their names and the amounts they donated on this letter. This sheet had sums in the range of Rs 100 to Rs 500. When I made actions that suggested that I could not pay this amount, he wrote on the paper that even Rs 10 would be okay. I was suspecting foul play all throughout. I penned on his sheet "college name?" to which he scribbled something that did not seem to be a name. Then I asked for his I-Card. He ran away(slowly though). If indeed he was a fake, then it is the time to slap.

Time To Clap

2005-09-06T07:43:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, I went to Pratibha Poshak's scholarship distribution program. Their initiative aims to provide scholarship to the needy but meritorious students across Karnataka. The program is funded by the Infosys Foundation. A few of the students who got scholarships also spoke at the event. This is what one of them had to say.
" Last year when I got the scholarship from the hands of Mrs Sudha Murthy..that night I had a dream. That when I graduate, I have to join Infosys. And today, I am happy to tell you that I have been placed in the company. I have refused offers from companies like IBM and Accenture, so that I can realise my dream". Time to clap. Another speaker at the event was a Padmashri award winner and director of the IISc, Dr Balaram, who also gave an inspiring speech about how a generation breaks away from poverty. Time to clap. But not everyone spoke in English. There were a few who spoke in Kannada, a language that I find difficult to understand. But then, from the loud uproar of claps, I guess their speeches were inspiring too. And whenever, I heard such a loud applause, I understood that it was the time to clap.

Anniversary Issue

2005-08-30T06:43:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers,

My blog is one year old today. A year ago it started with this silly post "First Article"

I never wanted to write a blog. There are two reasons, however which have prompted me to write one. First is that Lech has started writing blogs. The second is that I get bored after/during office( I stay 1000 kms away from home and visit home every 3-4 months).
This blog however is not a substitute for my autobiography. You will have to buy a copy if it all it gets published.

Now, Lech,who incidentally started blogging on the same day and I guess a few hours before me(though his timestamp suggests otherwise), no longer blogs and I visit home more often(say once in two months), I have still continued blogging. Talking about statistics, I have penned down 63 posts excluding this one. I have about 2750 hits now, which I hope to increase it to atleast 10000 by the second anniversary and if you guys keep reading and I keep posting, I don't think it will be a problem with last few months average being at about 20 hits per day. I also am setting a goal to update my other blog Cool School Days more often.

Looking forward to keeping you hooked,
Neel Arurkar

Home Food

2005-08-25T07:02:00.000-07:00

Home Food is one of the reasons to go home often. The ten days I was in Bombay, I made it a point not to eat in restaurants at all and feast on home food. I must confess that my decision was partly infuenced by the leptospirosis scare after the floods. After months of eating in hotels and office canteens(five or six of them)here in Bangalore, I relished whatever food I had at home. For a short period, it was break from those thick Rotis at Balaji(I usually have dinner at Balaji). I had a variety of dishes at home. The list includes Black Forest Cakes, Pizzas, Dudhi Halva, different bhajis, Pani Puri, Pav Bhaji and Independence Day Special. The dish I had many times during the course of my stay was Independence Day Special.

Carrots, cauliflower, baby corn and french beans are boiled and salt and pepper are sprinkled for taste. Do let me know how you find it, if at all you try it. The other items in the dish(clockwise) are coconut water, chapati(bread), gaud masala amti, walacha birda, pantoli(enclosed in turmeric leaf), morawla and bananas.

Remember, customer is the king

2005-08-20T13:59:00.000-07:00

"Pasha you suck. You are an inefficient, indifferent and lazy government servant and your fat a**e is an indication of that. If you continue being that lazy, the rats that bite the computer cables in your office will soon bite your a**e.......". I wanted to send this as an sms to Pasha everyday, to remind him of his duties. Pasha is an inspector with Karnataka State Road Transport Corporation(KSRTC). He was responsible to ensure that we promptly got the refund for our bus tickets after we met with the accident. But lazy and inept as he is, he delayed it till we finally we got our refund about four months later from some different officer. Though I do not send the above as sms considering that I am a decent guy(I think so) and he is a SoB(I think so), I do send him 'Remember, customer is the king' sms everyday. Poor Pasha. He must seriously be fed up. And I do not think that there is anything wrong in what I am doing. After all, I am sending sms to his official mobile number and that is being done to instill some accountability towards the public in that d***head. I was actually going to add this sentence 'To tell Pasha that customer is the king, click here.' in my post, which would make his official phone number public, but backed off on second thoughts. To read more about these guys, click here.

Morning Walk

2005-08-20T00:26:00.000-07:00

I had never ever had a morning walk before. I mean, I have walked in the morning but not for the sake of having a stroll. I am too lazy to sacrifice my sleep for such things. But today is a different day. Yesterday I asked Heramb whether he would accompany me to Shivaji Park and he agreed. Considering the fact that today is just three days away from my return to Bangalore and considering the fact that today is just a week away from his return to the UK(Yeah return. That SoB is going to UK for 4th time in two years), we both decided to sacrifice our sleeps. We set out at 0730(yes, I call that morning). Shivaji Park in the morning looked a bit different from the Shivaji Park in the evenings. So much less crowd and so many new faces. I realised that people who go there in the mornings and the people who go there in the evenings form disjoint sets. Agreed that the dopes are there in the morning and evening and also afternoons and nights and the body builders in the Open Air Gym must be coming both in the mornings and evenings, but I can bet my fifty odd bucks, that I won in the market yesterday, on the fact that my observation is true if the sample is restricted to the few girls that we saw in the morning and few girls who were not there in the morning. We did not restrict ourselves to Shivaji Park. We also went to Dadar beach, where we saw that the Worli-Bandra sealink work progressing at a (reasonably)rapid pace(looks like I will have to buy a cam soon. You guys can see an older picture that I found). We ended the walk with a Bun Maska Chai for me and Bread Omlette Tea for Heramb at a shabby Irani restaurant called 'The Light of Bharat'. Now, I am barely able to hold my yawns. I am going to have a heavy lunch now and hit the bed. In the evening, I am going to Shivaji Park again :-)

Telephone Diary

2005-08-15T23:49:00.000-07:00

I never thought that I would get out of touch with(read forget) so many people whom I used to meet everyday. And they meant so much to me. School friends with whom I used to share my lunch, college friends from whom I copied my assignments and so many more. At such times, my telephone diary comes to my rescue. As I flip pages of the diary and go through each and every name, I wonder how did I forget these people. They meant something to me and that was the reason they were in my diary. Do they now not mean anything to me? Of course not, but that is the way things are. Now that such information can be stored in a mobile phone, having a telephone diary is a bit obsolete. I do not remember when I last updated my paper telephone diary. But nevertheless, it is still used because I have not transferred its contents into the phone. And yes, the paper diary would also act as a backup in case I lose my phone. Now as I write this, I am feeling the urge to go through my diary again, so that I can contact long lost acquaintances, most of whom are from Bombay(I am in Bombay till next Tuesday). But damn! I have left my diary behind in Bangalore.

Arvind Mills?

2005-08-07T06:18:00.000-07:00

Arvind Mills is one of India's leading garment exporter. So when we heard that there was a sale put up at their Electronic's City manufacturing unit, we all rushed. By we, I mean not only my friends, but hundereds of other people from my company too. I bought 5 shirts and they cost somewhere in the Rs 200 -300 range(5-7 USD) each. That was quite cheap considering the fact that they had labels like GAP and Levi's on them. They were, what people called as export rejected stuff. Lech picked up a shirt too. And he picked a replica of the one that I had picked. So now, before going to office he phones me if he is wearing that shirt, to ensure that we both do not end up wearing the replicas on the same day. But then what can I do about the hundreds of other people in my company who bought stuff at the sale. On Wednesday, I came face to face with this guy who was wearing a replica of my shirt that I had bought at the sale. He was lost in his own thoughts. I stopped him even though we were absolutely strangers and asked,"Arvind Mills?". He nodded, smiled and walked away.

Salaam Bombay

2005-08-01T08:26:00.000-07:00

It was 94 in 24. 94 cms of rain was recorded in 24 hours. This is the highest ever rainfall recorded in India in a single day. Bombay was crippled. The latest figures confirm 420 deaths in the city which is a home to 13 million people. The local trains stopped. All the vehicles stopped on the roads. Electricity in suburbs was cut off. Mobile networks were jammed. Landlines are still being repaired. Houses of the people who lived in low lying areas were flooded. People drowned. Some died in landslides. Some were crushed under compound walls. I never believed that this could happen to my city(I am from Bombay, but work in Bangalore). Ah! Most of you have already read this in the newspapers. So let me tell you, how it affected my family. My father was trapped in a bus for 20 hours. My uncle had to walk in five feet deep water all through the night to reach his home. My landline is now dead. And yes. The motor that pumps water into my building burnt its coil. So there was water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink for a few days. But then, why crib? Why not salute the indomitable spirit of Bombay? Why not salute the thousands of volunteers who left the comforts of their homes and helped the stranded people? To read about such inspiring stories, click here.

Unsophisticated

2005-07-27T07:30:00.000-07:00

The sophisticated photocopying machine in my building was out of order. So, I walked to the other sophisticated machine in the opposite building. There I used the sophisticated scanner to scan my degree certificate. Bombay University's degree certificate looks so unsophisticated. I thought of uploading it here, but I am not doing that because somehow I feel that it may be misused by miscreants. On my way out, I smelt some real nice coffee. Vishal and I decided to have some coffee. The coffee machine looked sophisticated. It took us some time to understand its way of functioning. Once we had the coffee in our cups, we added sugar. But there was no stirrer in sight. I tried shaking the cup, but the coffee still tasted bitter. We wondered what to do next. Just then, I clenched all my fingers except the pointer together and put it in the coffee and stirred it(the coffee was not hot when i did this). I am unsophisticated. Just then I saw another guy in a similar situation. He just took another empty cup and poured the coffee from one cup to the other and repeated this process till the sugar was dissolved in the coffee. It was then that I realised, that I am not only unsophisticated, but also foolish.

Namaskar at the drop of a hat

2005-07-22T07:19:00.000-07:00

Most Indians are religious people. They drop a Namaskar every now and then. If not in a temple, then there is a different form of Namaskar. Instead of joining hands, when they see a temple from a distance or something remotely like that, they touch their forehead with their hand, mostly their right hand and then kiss it. It is this form of Namaskar that I will be talking about in this post. I remember, every time a BEST bus passed Maruti temple near KabutarKhanna, almost everyone would peep outside their windows and drop a Namaskar to either the Maruti temple or the mosque that stood opposite to it. If they see a funeral procession, guess what they do? Right, drop a Namaskar. I have seen people who drop a Namaskar whenever they get in a local train in Bombay. Now things are not as bad as they are in London and what prompts people to do that is not known to me. If you just step on someone, a simple sorry is not enough. It has to be accompanied by a Namaskar. Now, not everyone is aware of this. Take this story that I heard from a reliable source. In some software company, a software engineer was explaining complexities in the system to his American client, who was wearing a short skirt. They were sitting on a table in the conference room when this guy happened to step on her toes. And how could he not drop a Namaskar. He touched her lap and then proceeded to touch his hand on the forehead and then kissed it. The American lady was stunned and it took quite a effort to explain that this was out of respect and not a lustful act. And this is my personal favourite. While traveling in a BEST bus, a guy dropped his mobile phone. The guy promptly picked it, dusted it, checked whether it was okay and then Namaskared the phone!

Nail Cutter

2005-07-18T07:40:00.000-07:00

I met Mukul a day before I was going to shift to Bangalore. I had told him then, that shifting to Bangalore was like setting up a new house and I had to buy everything starting from a nail cutter. And I met Mukul again on the evening I was going to catch my train to Bangalore. And Mukul had come with a parting gift for me - a nail cutter. That nail cutter was one of my prized possessions. It so happened a few months later, that a new guy called Harish moved into our shared flat. The nail cutter he happened to buy was a replica of the nail cutter Mukul had gifted to me. x* coloured innerwear of y brand are banned in my house for anyone else because I wear them. But how can I also ban something like a nail cutter. I decided to keep my nail cutter safely in my toiletries box and not on the glass shelf. But a few days later, Harish staked his claim on my nail cutter. When I told him that the nail cutter was mine, he pointed to another one lying on the shelf whose plastic sticker had come off. His argument was, the one without the sticker had to be my nail cutter because it was older than his. I decided not to argue further and keep my nail cutter in some different place hidden from Harish. However, this never happened. Once there was this sticker factor that distinguished our nail cutters, I always kept my nail cutter on the shelf. I continued using my nail cutter till I cut my nails the last time, sterilizing it every time before use, quite mindful of the fact that it may be used by someone else who thinks that it is his own. But for the last fifteen days, since I felt the urge to cut my nails, the nail cutter is missing(Note: I am not blaming or suspecting Harish). I am not even finding Harish's nail cutter. So I now have very, very long nails, the non-transparent portion of which is about 4 mm in length and they are now looking very, very shabby. Looks like I will have to buy a new nail cutter today. There is a consoling factor though. I googled for nail cutter picture on google images. And I found a nail cutter having the same sticker(see pic) the nail cutter that Mukul gave me had.

x* : x may or may not take more than one value

Welcome To Swagath

2005-07-10T02:09:00.000-07:00

"Welcome to Swagath. Now Showing Dus. Timings ....", goes on a sad male recorded voice when you dial 080-26631086. Are the dumb looking(and dumb in their actions too) Swagath employees witty too? Swagath in Hindi and probably in Kannada too means 'Welcome'. Swagath, located in Jayanagar, is about 4 kilometres from my home and I guess the closest one too. It is one of the few theatres in Bangalore where they screen Hindi films. So, I am not giving you any prizes for guessing that on every weekend there is a long serpentine queue for tickets. Swagath is an old theatre but it has a nice screen and audio system. It is a different matter that some seats are in such a bad state that you might feel that you are on one of those chairs that one rests on for a sun bath. One good thing is that the tickets come cheap. A balcony one costs you 60 bucks(INR,1USD~=44 INR), the first class one 40 bucks and the second class(what imaginative names!) ticket comes for 30 bucks. They have recently increased the prices, but then no one is complaining. After all, in multiplexes a ticket may cost you anything between 150 rupees to 500 rupees. One of the stupid things about Swagath is their ticket booking system. Only the balcony tickets are available for advance booking. And the advance booking counter stays open only in the morning. The first class and second class tickets are available only on current booking(good for us!). And the booking for the second class tickets starts only after the first class tickets are over. To get to the first class booking counter you have to stand in a queue that passes through a cage that is very long and narrow. So if the tickets get over when you are in that queue(and cage), all you can do is look like caged animals as people rush to the second class counter. They have some more arbitrary rules too. For example at a particular movie, they give two tickets for each person in the queue whereas for some other movie they give just one. This ofcourse, is implemented when the queue is very long. Last Saturday, I went to see the movie Dus. When I went to my seat, I found that the guy sitting two seats from me was a compulsive spitter and was using the seat between us, which was unoccupied at that time, as a spittoon. Luckily I found people who were ready to swap seats with me, not knowing the fact that they would be resting their feet on litres of saliva. That was not the only surprise in store for me. Sanjay Dutt, a terrorist himself, was shown heading the anti-terrorist cell in the movie!

Bun Maska Chai

2005-07-08T06:15:00.000-07:00

There are not many Irani restaurants left in Bombay. Most of them have converted themselves into plush restaurants for obvious commercial reasons. But if you visit an Irani restaurant even today, Bun Maska Chai(BMC) is what you are probably going to order. Fresh bun, cut into half along its thickness and coated with a thick layer of Amul butter and then the two halves placed together and the bun cut again two times parallel to its diameter, so that it can be dipped in the small tea cups or glasses, was something that I could not resist when I passed Merwan or Kyani. Sometimes, I even used to have BMC for breakfast at home. But then nothing could beat the ambience of an Irani restaurant. Kyani for example has steps so big, that he has a thick rope hanging from the tall ceiling, that you have to hold while climbing(see picture). The interiors in these Irani restaurants are simple. A big counter where you find the cashier is shared along with a few boys who help in packing the bakery products kept in glass containers. The round tables with marble tops along with not so comfortable chairs add to the charm. No one complains even if you spend an hour sipping just a cup of tea(picture says otherwise!). I still remember my visits to Light Of Bharat, an Irani restaurant next to Babu Cycle Mart, along with my grandfather after cycling classes at Shivaji Park. That I did not learn cycling then is a different matter. The other incident that I remember is that a waiter in an Irani restaurant actually asked Mukul and me(both in school uniform) whether we had 10 rupees to pay for that the sick raspberry soft drink that we had ordered for. All that I miss in Bangalore. A few bakeries that do serve BMC do not even understand what I am ordering. They call it Bread Butter Tea. You just don't get the effect when it is said in all English. Moreover, you have to stand and eat. Nevertheless, today while waiting for my bus, I had BMC at a bakery near the stop. Just as I was about to eat the last piece, I spotted my bus. I just dumped the bun in my mouth and carried the tea(in disposable container) in the bus. Bombay ki yaad agayi (remembered Bombay).

Kamputer Engineer

2005-06-30T08:28:00.000-07:00

Computers still are a mystery to many and what computer engineers do all the time is beyond comprehension of most non-IT people that I have met. To speak(or write) the truth, even I did not know what they do till I started working. Ofcourse they send forwards, write blogs and play games(Damn! I send mails to my project team with my blog url in the signature). But surprisingly most people have different opinion about my job profile. Like this lady who thought that I have a hazardous work environment. She told me, now that I have got a job and will sit in front of the computer right through the day, I must protect myself from virus to remain in good health. I was about to tear my hair. "You can check your hotmail mails from US too" sounded okay now. After me spending a reasonable amount of time in the industry, this gentleman asks me what my typing speed is. I tried to explain him that, though I can type without looking at the keyboard now, that is not what I learnt in college or that is not what I am paid for. But then this one takes the cake. Subhabrata, my colleague and friend, used to work in a company that had the Jharkhand government as its client. Subh's office was the Jharkhand Legislative Assembly. Once while he was busy coding, an important visitor dropped in. He was Arjun Munda, the Chief Minister of Jharkhand. And guess what Munda had to say.
He said "ke karat ho? daata entry chal raha ka?"(What are you doing> Data entry?). From that day, Subh has stopped coding.

A Customer Speaks

2005-06-29T07:21:00.000-07:00

There are people who still live on Gandhian principles. Like the Mavawallah(khoaawallah) on MC Jawle road at Dadar who treated me as a king and with full respect even when I was a small customer considering both my age(must be ten years ago) and my purchase. Ditto about the guy near Maharaja at Kormangala who treated me with a smile even when all I bought was a 50 paise envelope. But then customer service is a term not heard by many. Nirmal and me had been to Udipi Garden(BTM,Bangalore) a few days ago for dinner. This is where I mostly have my dinner on Sundays. The usual norm here is that you are served a finger bowl at the end of yor meals only if you had ordered for some Punjabi dishes or North Indian meals. Nirmal had ordered for a NI meal whereas I went for Pav-Bhaji. The waiter got only one figer bowl and placed it in front of Nirmal. Not that I love washing my hands in a finger bowl, but their attitude sucked. Another example where the customer was not treated as a king and the SLA violated was at the Tribhuvan theatre where I went to watch Parineeta. The A/C was switched off because there were not many people in the hall. I understand that putting the A/C on might not make business sense for them, but then they should not advertise it as a fully A/C theatre. Incidents like these are innumerable. In one case, I was charged a few bucks more than the MRP as freezing charges for a cold drink. Not to enter into a big argument, I asked him whether he did the same for the ice creams. In one case, when I was about 10 years old, I was given a one year old sauce bottle after carefully scraping the manufacturing date with a blade at Brijwasi. After my parents discovered what had happened, they sent me back to 'fight back' and I shouted loudly in front of other customers and got full refund and rightly so. And I thought I was giving these people the opportunity to serve me.

Spice Jet vs Air Deccan

2005-06-23T08:07:00.000-07:00

With the proliferation of low cost airlines in the Indian skies, I find comparing Air Deccan and Spice Jet irresistible. The comparison is based on my personal experiences and from a few reliable sources.

Aeroplanes :
Air Deccan has relatively newer A320s. Spice Jet's fleet looks quite old.
Staff :
Spice Jet has a more smiling and a cheerful staff than Air Deccan. I found them all over the airport and were more than willing to help passengers. The Spice Jet air hostesses are more courteous than their Deccan counterparts.
Snacks :
Deccan does not serve any kind of snack. Spice Jet serves 5 rupees worth of Ruffles' Lays/Haldiram's Seng, 200 ml of water worth 3 bucks(unlimited I guess) and one Alpenliebe candy worth 50 paise.
ID Checking :
From what I have heard from people, Air Deccan asks for ID proof only when you are flying on a cheap ticket. They always asked me for photo-id. Spice Jet guy asked me once for the positive id as they call it and on my return trip the girl did not bother to ask. That probably was because the flight was delayed.
Delays : Air Deccan flights are delayed most of the time. In the first month of Spice Jet's operation I heard that they were on time 91 % of the time.
Informing when delayed :
Deccan does this sometimes, whereas Spice guys don't do it yet.

I do not think that the above comparison is in any way going to affect the airlines you choose. Even if you earn a fat salary, you will go for the one that is cheapest. That's called The Middle Class Mentality.

PS: One of the untried way for impersonation that can be used. Get a railway identity card(costs 1 rupee) that accompanies a railway pass in Bombay suburban trains. You can get it from your friend who stays in Bombay. Put your photo on it and write the name of the person in whose name the ticket is booked. Laminate the card for an authentic look. Now you look like a railway employee. Of course don't try this trick at Bombay Airport. Please note that I live by my values and do not recommend impersonation.

Say Chee

2005-06-23T07:06:00.000-07:00

Spice Jet offers snacks on board. It is a no-frills airline and do not expect a proper snack like you get in Jet Airways or KingFisher. They serve you potato chips/peanuts, mineral water and a candy on board. All worth Rs 8.50. But then people still compare it with Jet Airways which serves proper snacks. People love to crib. And why not? Cribbing really is fun. I was given a choice to choose between Ruffles' Lays and Haldiram's Seng. I went for Lays . I do not support people involved in murder cases in any form. We were nearing Pune Airport when I finished the packet of Lays. There was no tissue paper in sight to wipe my oily hands. I just wiped it to my denims. I still remember the astonished look on the face of the cutie sitting next to me. But then I didnt use the seat covers as a napkin.

Think Out Of The Box

2005-06-23T06:17:00.000-07:00

Everytime I come back to Bangalore, I carry something for friends and colleagues. Last November, just after Diwali, I carried a huge bag full of goodies like bakarwadi, dhokla, barfi , chakli...The list was endless. All this was carried in a huge blue coloured plastic bags that hawkers use to carry their goods. I guess people on board of that Air Deccan flight suspected that no-frills airlines allow hawkers on board too. So this time, when I carried Alphonso magoes, I made sure that I did not carry the box as cabin luggage. The mangoes were carefully packed in a red box and covered with a white plastic bag. I am sure they must have looked like had grenades when scanned. At the Spice Jet check in counter, I wrote my name and phone number with a marker that the cutie provided. I asked her to handle my mangoes with care. At the Bangalore Airport, I had too wait a long time for the mangoes. Finally, I saw a red box coming on the conveyor belt. It was stripped of the white plastic bag was missing. I could not make out why the airline/airport authorities removed the plastic bag. Did they actually open to cross check for grenades? Nevertheless, I was happy because the mangoes had finally arrived. I lifted them from the conveyor and then went to Lech and Gaurav who were waiting for me. I was moving my hand all over the box to ascertain any damage, when someone patted my shoulders. As I turned around, I heard a stranger say "Thats my box of mangoes".

Pretty Old Shirts

2005-06-08T08:17:00.000-07:00

Kashyap asked me whether it was a new shirt when I wore it to office last Friday. It is a milky white T-shirt with two press buttons. It has a different style of its own. If Kashyap is to be believed, the T-shirt is funny. Or did I look funny in the shirt? I dont know the answer, but the fact is that it is a 25 year old T-Shirt. Passed on from my dad to me because it no longer fits him, I would love to pass it to my next generation when it no longer fits me. And it is not the only old shirt that I have in my wardrobe, though it is the only one I have with me here at Bangalore. There were many more but only few could survive the barter exchange of my maternal grandmother who got copper vessels in return. One other old shirt, but not that old to fit into the category, is the shirt that Mr Machado, my maternal grandfather's friend, gave me. It is now eight years old and still going strong except for the fact that my maid brushed it so hard that it got a hole on its sleeves. It was such a comfortable shirt that I always used to wear for my exams(Note: not superstitious). Now it has been sent to Bombay for darning. And when I thought I alone am so attached to my father's old shirts or just old shirts for that matter, Keyur proved me wrong. Today morning just as he logged on to his machine I complimented him about his shirt. And Keyur said, "papa ka hai"(its my father's shirt)

A Free Drop Please

2005-06-06T06:01:00.000-07:00

Was I praising my landlady in my last post? I have to think again. Her attitude sucks. According to the new agreement we have to pay the rent by the fifth of every month. We changed this from seventh in the old agreement. This Saturday it was the fourth of June and Harish was not feeling well. We had planned that we would pay her by evening. But that was not to be. She messaged for Harish. She told him that she wanted the money right at that moment. Now Harish is a real nice chap. He never says no to her. When Harish told her that he would get it for her in a few minutes, she said that she would accompany him to the ATM. Harish had to ferry the old lady to the ATM in the autorickshaw. The ATM is a kilometre from our home and takes minimum fare by rick. In the rick, she bitched about me. She told Harish that our old roomie Lakshman had left the room over differences in money matters with me. Now that is news to me. Does she hallucinate or is she a schizophrenic? At the ATM, Harish handed the cash to the landlady who immediately walked to the bus stop barely ten metres away. Damn! All this fuss for a free drop to the bus stop.

A Home Away From Home

2005-05-31T06:05:00.000-07:00

Finally, I now sleep on a cot. After more than one year of staying like a typical bachelor, my rented house here in Bangalore is finally getting furnished. To start with, we got a study table, thanks to our landlady who now exhibits a different behaviour after signing a new agreement that guarantees her ten percent more rent. Two comfortable wooden chairs followed. Nothing is for free though. In return I had to e-mail a letter to her niece who stays in the US and type a letter related to some investments. A cot was the next thing on my list and I bought a second hand one from a fellow Infoscion at a reasonable price(thanks BB). It is wrought iron cot with a small dent in it and it makes noises whenever I turn sides. That apart, the cot is positioned in such a place that it either hinders the opening of the cupboard or the bedroom door and has to be constantly moved. But that discomfort is more than compensated by the convenience of not rolling the bed everyday(maid servant finds sweeping the floor difficult if the bed is not rolled). A washing machine was on the cards too, but that proposal was shot down by my roomies, one of whom thinks that we already are paying the maid too much too spend more on the washing machine. Why should they be concerned anyway considering the fact that I am the only one who washes the clothes by hand after I had one of my favourite shirts torn at the hands of the maid?The next thing to do now is to cement the (small)gaps near the entrance door so that the rain water does not enter our house. I miss you Bombay.

Private Eye

2005-05-25T07:58:00.000-07:00

It was a weird favour my friend had asked for. I am not sure that whether I should classify it as a favour. Let us call it an assignment. The task assigned needed some investigating abilities and was challenging. One of my friend's friend was getting married and the prospective groom was from my company. My friend wanted to know 'more' details about him. These details included how he looks in real life, whether he drinks or not and any other details that might be useful. I was given a strict deadline of about six hours. Now that was a difficult target to meet considering that my company has more than 36000 people. A little efforts and I came to know in which department he works. Beyond that I could not just proceed. I tried calling all the acquaintances that came to my mind who work in that department but that did not fetch any success. The six hour deadline was drawing to a close. I was stuck. My friend once again came to my desk to give me a 'gentle' reminder and I decided to give a 'deeper' thought. There was this guy who came to my mind who had last been in touch with me some six months ago and worked in the same department as the prospective groom. He was now working in the same department but in a different city. As a last resort, I contacted(via messenger) him expecting a 'I dunno him' response. But he had met the prospective groom a couple of times! My questions followed. I asked the question that I personally hate to ask. I dont know why people want to know whether a person drinks or not. He told me that atleast he had not shared the bar table with the prospective groom. The task was completed. Information was passed to my friend who in turn passed it to his friend. His friend inturn passed a 'thank you' which my friend passed on to me.

Mask Of Sophistication

2005-05-22T05:08:00.000-07:00

A minute is all that it took for the rains to bring almost entire city of Bangalore to darkness. Harish was not feeling well and we were at Dr Nithu's dental dispensary. Dr Nithu is a cute dentist(except for the dark lipstick) and that was the only reason I accompanied Harish to the dispensary. Harish's check up was barely finished when we could hear deafening thunder. Within a minute the electricity was gone and I was using my mobile phone as a torch to guide Nithu and her clerk find candles. I could hear large droplets bang against the clinic's door. It was frightening. It seemed as if the wind would just blow the door off the shabbily and newly constructed clinic. Nithu was cool and I heard her even humming a song while writing down the prescription. She asked us to wait till the rains subsided and that did not take more than five minutes. As we left the clinic, car floodlights were the only sources of light. The short spell of showers had created a havoc and we could see more water than road. There was a huge ten feet by three feet hoarding that lay on the road obstructing the traffic. At one instance, we found ourselves trapped on an island. We had to step into the river and that would mean wetting my shoes. I tried to walk on tiptoes but the water just rushed into my shoes. What the heck? Why was I being so sophisticated? Did I not enjoy walking in knee deep waters in Bombay when I was in school? I removed the mask of sophistication superimposed on me and started walking on the flooded road, at times even enjoying the water splashes as the cars raced ahead.

My Stocks With Udayan Mukherjee

2005-05-19T06:13:00.000-07:00

Ever since I got a cable connection at my Bangalore house, I have been glued to CNBC. I often wondered how people ask their questions to Udayan on his show "Your Stocks With Udayan Mukherjee". Does CNBC broadcast the telephone calls live? Do they edit if you speak trash? Many questions and they were answered a few days ago when CNBC guys called me at home to ask whether I can ask a question on the show. I had filled some sick question on their site moneycontrol.com and left my contact details. They asked me to be at home(I was in Bombay) between 1700 and 1730 hours when they would call me up. They called me at 1640 just to confirm whether I was ready. At 1720, I received a call from CNBC. The operator asked me to hold the line for a minute. I could hear some advertisements which were followed by headlines. Then the following conversation ensued:(Conversation took place in 1st week of April)
UM: Our next caller for the day is Neel Arurkar, a software engineer from Mumbai. Neel, what is your question?
Me: I am looking at investments in tech stocks. Considering that fourth quarter results are around, should I invest in tier-I companies like I******,Wipro, TCS or tier-II companies like Satyam, Aztec. I have a short to medium term outlook?(I called Satyam as tier-II company !!!)
UM:Neel, let me ask you a question.Why look for short term gains? A man as young as you should have a long term prospective.
Neel: I typically hold the stocks till they appreciate for about 10% and then move out to some other stock.
UM: Doesnt 40% in two years make sense?Jamshed what do you want to say?
Neel(thinks) : 40% in two years :-( I want to double my money every fifteen days.
J: Satyam is looking undervalued at present and I would recommend my young friend to go for it.(and some explanation on why Satyam looks good)

After this, Udayan moved to the next caller and I still kept listening to the proceedings going on. It just seemed like you are listening to a TV. After a minute or two, my line got cut. As I did not have a cable connection, I could not verify if the program was being telecast live. But I did see the telecast of the show at 7pm at Heramb's house. My voice seemed so different on TV. A day later, I got a call from their studio and was asked whether I could come to their studio for a show. No... They were not going to interview me. I was going to be a part of the audience. But sadly, it was Bangalore calling. I had to reach Bangalore on the day of the show.

A New Management

2005-05-18T07:17:00.000-07:00

A huge banner at Udipi Upchar said that the restaurant would reopen on 11th May 2005 'under a new management'. Udipi Upchar was the closest 'proper' hotel to my house. I prefered having food here on Saturday and Sunday afternoons when I was too lazy to walk a kilometre to Balaji. I conciously avoided the flies around and ignored the huge garbage dump barely 10 metres away. Now after two weeks of renovation, the 'new management' has started the new hotel. All that I have had since the hotel has reopened is a glass of juice. It cost me a rupee more. The 'new management' inlcudes new wooden chairs, a new coupon printer, a new cashier and old cooks. They have even changed the name of the hotel to Upahar Nidhi. I had often wondered what they meant by Upchar(treatment) in their old name. Upahar(food) seems more appropriate and more commonly used in Udipi restaurant names. Talking about Udipi restaurants, the Udipi suffixes and prefixes to the hotel name became popular(atleast in Bombay) after a hotelier called A.Rama Nayak started his own restaurant and urged fellow hoteliers from Udipi(a district in Karnataka,India) to use it to give brand equity to their hotel name. Now with managements changing in Udipi restaurants everywhere , the new managements are dropping the 'Udipi' from the hotel name. I am glad that the so called new management did not do the same.
For Erratum, please click on Comments

Compensation Review

2005-05-12T07:52:00.000-07:00

A day after we(all Infoscions) got our hikes, we decided to do a compensation review for our maid. It is a year since she has been hired and her raise was due. Her performance over the last financial year was reviewed. We noticed that she had stopped mopping the floor. We did not remember the last time she mopped it. On an average, she did not come for 3 days in a week. Also, she did not have much work. She had to wash four guys' clothes and sweep the floor once in a while. She was sort of 'on bench'. But then a hike was given. She was given a decent 12.5% hike. Her next appraisal target is to mop the floor once a week and fold the dried clothes and stack them up. We have noticed an change in her performance since the hike. If she sustains this performance over the next cycle, she will surely get a CRR 1.

Cigarettes Available : For Free

2005-05-09T21:55:00.000-07:00

This was the subject of the post I put on the Bulletin Board(BB). The exact post that was posted is here --"I have 8 gold flake cigarettes with me. You don’t need to pay anything for it. The reason I am giving it to you is that I do not want to throw them away.The cigarettes will be given to the person who calls me on my extension / drops a mail to me first. Please note that you can collect the cigarettes only tomorrow after 1030 hours." There were a few comments in reply. But I feel people should know why this guy is offering cigarettes for free. These cigarettes are not mine. I found them in Rishdi's bag. If you have not read the posts below, Rishdi was a fellow passenger in our bus that met with an accident. Dheepak and me spent time with him till his friends came about 12 hours after the accident. I found a cigarette packet in Rishdi's bag and asked him whether I should let it remain there. Rishdi's parents were not aware that Rishdi smokes and he wanted the packet to be removed. This is how I got my hands on the packet. I have tried to smoke a few times before just for the sake of it but did not quite get it right. This is why the cigarettes were offered on the BB and the winner of the contest has already been decided.

KSRTC sucks too

2005-05-08T01:40:00.000-07:00

I did not want to write a Part III to "To God's Own Country", but just cannot resist. How can I let go the unprofessional behaviour of Karnataka State Road Transport Corporation (KSRTC) without leaving it open for searches on the web? It has been more than 15 days and 4 trips to KSRTC offices since the accident but we are yet to get our money refunded. Everyone whom we met at KSRTC office just passes the buck to someone else. We have wasted so much time on this that I dont intend to write a long post on this. Let me write about the officials we met at KSRTC. I will write their names too, because they are government servants and are answerable to me.
If you have not read previous two articles or just want to know more about the context, here is a brief description. We were travelling in a KSRTC bus from Bangalore to Ernakulam via Mysore. Our bus met with an accident near Mysore while on our way to Ernakulam. The tickets for which we(Dheepak, Subh and me) are seeking refund are to and fro tickets.

Mysore Officials : We came in contact with three officers and a few desk clerks at Mysore. The desk clerks were all horrible and the officers were all polite. The first officer asked us to wait for his two senior officers. The two officers informed us that we could get the refund only at Bangalore. The reason they gave us was that we had booked our tickets at Bangalore and they could be refunded only at the place of booking. This despite KSRTC having an computerised online system for ticket bookings. This is the typical mentality of people working with governments in India. I do not blame them for not giving refund at Mysore. It is the fault in the system(I am not talking about the computerised reservation system). One good thing about one of the officers here was that he had met a few of the victims of the tragedy at the hospltal. He also knew the driver's name, his experience and informed us that one of his legs had been amputated. These two senior officers called up the Depot Manager, GVR Venkatareddy at Bangalore to ensure that we get our refund soon on our return to Bangalore. He told us that KSRTC had given compensation of Rs 5000 to the seriously injured. Rishdi had seriously hurt his eye and did he did not get the compensation. Then why do all commuters on KSRTC buses pay one rupee towards accident relief fund when KSRTC guys are not serious about directing this money to seriously injured victims. Should they also go 20 times to the office like us and beg for money which is rightfully theirs?

GVR Venkatareddy(Depot Manager) : We never could find him in office.

Mr. Ravindranath(Assistant Traffic Manager) : When we could not find the Depot Manager, we were directed to him by some clerk. He was called the man with a walky talky. He always carried a walky talky with him and his job was directing traffic in and out of the depot. It took us about ten minutes for us to explain our case. He directed us to Depot Number 4 manager, who directed us back to this guy to submit our application for refund. We were informed that we are entitled to get full refund on our return journey and amount from Bangalore to Mysore would be deducted from the 'to' journey because we had travelled that much distance. I wanted to ask him whether KSRTC would pay for our accomodation at Mysore? Our application was accepted by Mr. Ravindranath and we were assured that he would let us know the details in 2-3 days. That never happended. Everytime I called him, he asked me to come to meet him at the Depot. And we have wasted our two Saturdays with this idiot. Everytime we go there he informs us that our application is being processed. And he assures us that he would call us in 2-3 days to let us know the status, something that he religiously forgets. I do not understand the logic behind his calling us to office. If he just wants to inform us that our application is being processed, then why does he want us to spend 2-3 hours in travelling to the Depot. A typical phone call to this idiot sounds like this:
Neel : Hello, Mr Ravindranath I am Neel.
Mr R : Elli ( go ahead in Kannada)
Neel : I am from the Ernakulam bus that met with an accident ( He never remebers me by name)
Mr R : You come to my office tommorow
Neel : Has the refund amount been arranged?
Mr R : You come (his exact words)
Neel : Has the refund amount been arranged?
Mr R : You come (his exact words)
Neel : Has the refund amount been arranged? ( once again!!!)
Mr R : Ha Ha You come.

Mr Pasha (ATS): I do not exactly know what ATS stands for, but from what I know of him it must be for A Trained Sucker. He coolly informs us that he can give us the refund on the spot if I have the tickets. Then I coolly inform him that the tickets are with you. Then he coolly informs that the tickets are at the Divisional Office of KSRTC and you cannot say that the tickets are with you. Then again I coolly inform him that by 'you' I meant KSRTC and not the fat ba***** he thinks of. He then asks us to get the tickets from KSRTC Divisional Office if we want the refund. When we tell him that the tickets were sent from people at this depot and it is their duty to get it back he smiles sheepishly. He gives us the address of the Divisional Office and removes our complaint from the public grievances file and asks us to produce it at the Divisonal Office. I refused to accept it. I would prefer that paper to lie in the files so that a rat could have a bit of it, grow fatter and bold and then have a bite of Pasha's a**e.
When I get back the money, I have decided to send an sms to these guys everyday. The sms would read " Remember that you are a public servant and to serve him/her is your duty. Whatever money you get is because of the money I pay in taxes and for tickets. I am the king. Treat me royally". Also, I would make public their phone numbers so that if anyone of the people who read my blog would want to tell them how much they suck, they can. I do not find anything immoral in making public their mobile phone numbers. After all, they are their official phones.

Apathy At The KR Hospital,Mysore

2005-05-03T08:23:00.000-07:00

(Please Note : This is To God's Own Country -Part-II. Read the post below before coming to this post)
At the KR Hospital, the Infosys Security Officer saw to it that our forms were filled quickly. We thought that that would assure us of quick medical relief. With every minute passing by, I was having more difficulty walking around. The first step in order to get medical relief was to let a clerk know about my address, father's name and stuff like that. He also noted down what injuries I had suffered. A guy with a stethoscope sat dumbly next to him quietly. For some fifteen minutes I was in that room, I doubt if he ever uttered a word. Later, I understood that this guy who was actually a doctor, did the sole thing of filling the OutPatientDept Forms. The clerk took my left thumb in his hand and pressed it against an ink pad and then onto a register were my contact details were registered. A nurse like a machine was giving anti-tetanus to patients without changing the cotton. I did not take the anti-tetanus for obvious reasons. Well, there is no blood oozing out but still, why take chances? We were asked to proceed to a doctor who I guess was the Resident Medical Officer (RMO). A young chap of about 27, he looked confident and unshaken. While on my way to the RMO, I found a guy sitting helplessly and was calling for help. There was no hospital official to asist this chap. When I went to him, I realised that this guy had hurt his eye. A safety glass had pierced the iris of his right eye. His pants were torn in the accident and there was blood on his body, but the only thing on his mind was about the eye. I held him by his shoulder and took him to the RMO who then asked me to take him to the Ophthalmology Dept. The Ophthalmology Dept was two blocks away and I had to limp for about 5 minutes to reach there. The collapsible gate at the department was shut and I had to rattle it and shout "Koi Hey?"(Is anyone here?). A security guard who was lying on the floor, lifted his blanket and informed us that the doctor was not there. I had to convince him that this was really urgent for him to go and wake up the doctor. It was 1:30 am by then and the doctor was fast asleep. Dr Adarsh emerged from his room. As he checked the patient, I could see that he did not know what has to be done. He kept cleaning wounds on his face but did nothing much. What I thought was a simple procedure to take out the glass from his eye was not that easy. Dr. Adarsh knew that an operation was necessary and that could be carried out only in the morning when his boss comes. He asked me to go back to the registration desk and get the necessary paper work done for this guy to get admitted. This meant ten minutes of limping and 15 minutes of blabber with the officials. Before leaving Dr. Adarsh's room, I asked the patient what his name was. He was Rishdi. That was when Adarsh realised that Rishdi and me were total strangers bound just by a relation of humanity. At the registration desk, people were more interested in talking to officials who had come to enquire about the accident than to me. This place had all sorts of people - the police, the traffic police and even reporters. Earlier, a reporter had asked for an interview and was interested in showing that people from Infosys were injured in the accident. I did not show interest in speaking to him. Finally with the admitting paper work done, Dheepak and me went back to ophthalmology dept. Dr. Adarsh was a helpful guy. He came with us half way to the eye ward. Adarsh said that he appreciated the good work we were doing and I am going to take the credit for doing it(along with Dheepak) because we deserved it. Admitting Rishdi into the ward was another headache. The ward was on the second floor and the elevators were not working. We found that there was no one at the ward and it took another ten minutes to find the ward-in-charge, a lady who was busy sleeping in her room. Rishdi admitted, Dheepak and me proceeded to the OPD where I had to be examined. There were five other Infy guys(from Mysore) and they were proceeding to Apollo Hospital for checkup. Subh too decided to get the checkup done at Apollo and Dheepak accompanied him with a promise that he will be back soon with me. All the Infy guys were relatively less hurt, except for one who had fractured his leg. I could see the couple that was seated in front of me was fine too. There was no news of the ISRO guy who was sitting next to Subh. We did not see him even once after the accident. We are sure he must be fine too, but where did he vanish? During one more visit to the registration desk, I heard "erdu janag sethu" and eventhough my knowledge of Kannada is limited, looking at people's faces and knowing that 'erdu' means 'two', I could make out that two people had died on the spot.Infy guys were taken to Apollo in Infy ambulance and I was the only one left behind. There were some 10 odd people who were admitted to the ICU though. The reason for me staying behind was not only that I had to undergo checkup, but Rishdi was alone and had to undergo operation in the morning at 0830 hours. By the time the RMO checked me, it was 0330 hours. I told him that I had pain in my groins and suspected that to be a fracture. He told me that that I could walk properly it was not a fracture and asked me to get Xrayed just to be sure. He chatted with me for the next five minutes. Shravankumar Singh was from Rajasthan but could speak fluent Kannada. He informed me that he was a postgraduate and had studied in Pillani and Manipal. Shravan then proceeded to ask personal questions like what was my salary, whether I was happy with it, whether I am married and stuff like that. Probably he was benchmarking him against me. To get XRayed was not easy. It involved more paperwork. Now I was not just limping but limping with about 5 kgs of Rishdi's baggage. It was another half an hour before I was ready to go to the XRay dept. An helpful security guard not only kept Rishdi's baggage under lock and key, but also accompanied me to the XRay dept. I had to wake up guys here too. The security guard at the XRay dept did not know Hindi or did he just pretend? I was finally Xrayed and was told that I should expect the results by 1000 hours the next day. Back to the main building, I met the helpful guy who had escorted me to the XRay dept. He gave the baggage back to me and demanded "Chai-Pani". I had to shell out a ten rupee note. Rest of the time was spent on the Hospital bench-alone waiting for dawn and Dheepak. There was nothing to do till the next day when Rishdi was going to be operated and my XRay reports would be ready. Still unsure about whether it was a fracture, I waited for Dheepak till he came at about six in the morning. I stayed awake even as Dheepak lied down on the bench for a short nap of about forty minutes. At about eight, we went to Rishdi's ward where we met Dr. Adarsh. Adarsh asked us to take Rishdi to the operation theatre. At the operation theatre, it was a really long wait before we met Dr. Venkatagowda, Adarsh's boss. He informed us that the operation would involve a few stitches to the eye and then insertion of an artificial lens. Rishdi was not sure what to do and was seeking medical advice from some expert doctor from his hometown. While we waited for Rishdi's parents to arrive, we were asked to get Rishdi's eye XRayed. We stepped out of the poorly maintained Ophthalmology Dept to proceed to the XRay Dept. The operation theatre at the ophthalmology dept had dust and dirt lying everywhere. Personally I wouldnt have prefered to undergo an eye operation in such an unhygienic environment. At the XRay dept, the radiologist kept us waiting for half an hour and at the end of thirty minutes demanded a bribe, which we had to part away with. Rishdi and me then wnet to the canteen, where I spoon fed Rishdi. Rishdi was a brave guy. Even with an injury as serious as an eye injury, I could not see an element of fear in his eyes. Rishdi's friends from Bangalore had come by the time we went to the Ophthalmology Dept again. I briefed them on how to proceed and what things to do next. Rishdi handed over to his friends, I went to the XRay dept to collect my XRay, where I was politely informed that I would not be handed over the XRay since it was a Medico Legal Case (MLC). I was asked to bring the doctor who had asked for the XRay along with me. That doctor had a packed schedule till 6pm in the operation theatre and it was about 11 am then. I pleaded to the nurses over there. I told them that I had not slept for about 30 hours. That did not seem to move them. But then, I heard one of them talking in Konkani with the other. I grabbed the chance and whatever broken Konkani I know, I used it to plead my case. I was given the results in ten minutes. The language card works. The nurses directed the corrupt radiologist to some other doctor, who reported that "There is no evidence of fracture". Our accomodation was arranged by Infosys in its plush campus at Hebbal, Mysore. After about 32 hours, I retired. I had a bath only after waking up. It was a long bath. I ensured that everything was working just the way it should. I got an anti-tetanus administered from the resident docor at Infy. I did not have to limp from the next day onwards. A good 12 hour sleep assured me that I was fine. By the time I was back in office, the news had spread to everyone I knew. I was flooded with calls and visits and I narrated a story atleast a hundred times. When they ask me, how am I feeling, I state that I am fine except for a little pain in the upper thighs, with the groins euphemistically being replaced by upper thighs. I am fine now and Rishdi is fine too. An artificial lens is going to be put in his eyes in about 3 months from now. Till then, Rishdi cannot see with his right eye.

To God's Own Country

2005-04-25T05:34:00.000-07:00

It was a long weekend and Subhabrata, Dheepak and me set out to the God's Own Country. We had booked tickets on the Thursday 1930 hours KSTRC Rajhamsa to Ernakulam. The plan was that we were to get down at Alwaye and proceeds towards Munnar, dubbed as Kashmir of the South, by many. After a quick dinner at some Andhra styled restaurant at the bus depot, we got in to the bus, where we were surprised to find the same couple that we had seen in the hotel sitting right in front of our seats. The seats we occupied were middle ones that were not behind the driver. These were carefully chosen from some 10 seats available at the time of booking. I have always been choosy in selecting seats after I heard of Anish's bro's friends accident en route to Kerala. I was seated next to Dheepak, who occupied the window seat, with Subh sitting behind me. Subh's neighbour was a guy of our age from ISRO. Dheepak and me chatted continuosly except for a few minutes when he was on phone till we reached some Motel for dinner.All this time, Subh listened to music on his discman. Subh was as ready as he ever is to go for a second dinner at the Motel. As we got into the bus, I exchanged seats with Dheepak. I had almost sprained my neck looking in his direction all the time. I called up home as usual at night and later continued chatting with Dheepak. Sometime later seats were exchanged again and I was back in the seat next to the aisle. Just before we reached Mysore, I informed the conductor, to inform us when we reach Alwaye. It was a few minutes to twelve when we reached Mysore. The lights were put and the young couple in front of our seats were out of the cuddle. I always wanted to tell Dheepak how much I detested having him next to me, but never did:-).At the Mysore depot there was total chaos in the bus. People were rushing at the entrance because that was the last bus that night. In midst of all this chaos, the clock struck 12 and I called Heramb to wish him for his birthday.
In the meanwhile, the bus had started and I could see the Mysore Palace. It looked marvellous in that lighting and it looked even more beautiful as a lightning struck in its background. I probably was describing this to Heramb, when another lightning struck. I could see the safety glass of our bus window fly off. As Dheepak describes it , I too could see it in slow motion. Hundreds of green coloured luminous small green pea sized objects were flying towards me. I realised that we had met with an accident and if you are smart enough you know what four lettered word I uttered. And just as I thought everything was over we came to an abrupt halt. I banged my head against the seat in front of me and stayed in that postion for a while. There was complete darkness. I still do not know whether that darkness was because there was no light or because I had blanked out. The first thing I thought after that bang was whether I am alive. Believe me, it took me about a second or two to reassure myself. The next few seconds I spent were wondering whether I am going to survive. This took some time too. Some heavy breaths assured me that I would survive. The next thing was ensuring that I had not been crippled. I stood up and with ease. It was at this time I noticed that my seat which was reclining at about 30 degrees was now in front of the normal by about 45 degrees -- a swing of about 75 degrees. As I stood up I was unsure whether I was bleeding internally. I thought about no one till then. Not even about Dheepak and Subh. Then we three confirmed that we were all fine. There was total chaos in the bus. I was not knowing what had gone wrong and I am sure I was not alone. I could here a lady screaming loudly. I thought someone was dead in that part of the bus. It was pain and pain everywhere. The jovial guy with long hair and the guitar was sitting with blood all over his face. People were shouting at others to get out of the bus but the door was jammed. A few including Subh had jumped out of the window. I dialled 100 only to be greeted in Kannada at the other end. When I dialled for the second time, the police guy transferred the call to someone who could speak English. That guy cut the phone before hearing what I had to say. Dheepak tried calling 1062 and ambulance but in vain. Someone asked for a handkerchief and I gave mine away. Someone asked for water and I gave that too. Just then rescue had arrived. It was less than 15 minutes after the accident. The door was forced open. People scrambled towards the exit. Dheepak and me were calm. Dheepak's calmness was shattered when he saw a guy blocking the gangway to carry his baggage along with him. Just as we were about to get down, I saw a guy being carried on the strecher. He was motionless. Later, I saw his photograph in the next day's paper. He was one of the two dead on the spot. After we got down, I realised what had happened. A huge container had brushed against our bus resulting in the driver losing control and banging against the tree. We were escorted into another KSRTC bus that was going towards Mysore. We were lucky to receive quick medical support because the accident had occured just outside the city limits. At the KR Government Hospital, we realised that there were 5 other guys from Infosys who had boarded the bus at Mysore. All of them were fine, though one had fractured his leg. Infosys ambulance had come to the spot of the accident and had carried this guy to the hospital. The security officer in charge at Mysore definitely deserves a pat on the back for this. He also helped us with filling the Out Patient Department Cards. Few of us wanted to be diagnosed at Apollo Hospital and they were ferried there by the Infy Ambulance. Dheepak accompanied Subh. Subh had hurt his left leg and had to limp to walk. Dheepak had banged his head and it was swollen, though the swelling was not visible. I could walk but with a little difficulty. All were leaving by the Infy Ambulance. I decided to stay back and help Rishdi, who had no one with him and had an eye injury. Dheepak was going to join me after Subh was examined. About the apathy at the KR government hospital, i will write a separate post. Their attitude deserves to be blasted separately.
For pictures and more information visit Dheepak's Blog
For some it had indeed turned out to be a trip to the God's Own Country.

Bribing

2005-04-16T00:35:00.000-07:00

Bribing is fun. Not because you have to pay money but because you can make the person stoop in front of you. I have reasonably good ethics and values and have bribed people only a few times. The first time I bribed someone was when I was just out of school and just 16 years of age. There was a long queue at the SIES college for admission forms for the First Year Junior College. Trying to break in into the queue had had disastrous consequences and a constable hit me(I was a minor at that time) with his cane.It did not hurt me but was fun and an incident to proudly tell to all friends. The next thing we did to break the queue was to bribe the chai-wallah(tea chap). He was given 20 bucks extra to get us ten forms which were later sold to friends and people at Rs 27 which included the 2 rupee premium paid for bribing the chap. The other incident of bribing was when I have paid 20 bucks to the constable at Shaitan Chowki Police station for police verification, a requisite in getting the passport. Here the police chap had to fill some form which otherwise I would have to fill up myself. I offered to fill the form myself, but the police guy offered this extra service for the 20 bucks he would be getting. When he demanded the money from me, I asked what the money was for and he coolly said that it was for the form. Now that form was a photocopy that would not have cost the police even 50 ps. Let me clarify that these incidents are unethical and I do not see any heroism in offering bribe to anyone and I feel sorry for what has happened. I should not have had broken the queue and bribing the constable was probably okay considering they work for extraordinarily long hours and get underpaid. But one thing that I have noticed is that once you bribe someone you no longer need to respect that person. It is great to see how that person avoids eye contact with you while accepting the bribe. It gives you the authority to boss over the authority.

The Road Ahead

2005-04-15T07:21:00.000-07:00

We joked that BESCOM(electricity chaps) made better roads than BMP(municipal guys). When BESCOM dug up roads for laying cables they used to fill it up with concrete whereas most part of the kilometre long road was a tar one. However more than thirty percent of the road was still metal(khadi) road which meant that it used to get filled with muck in the rainy season. If you know it rains for eight months every year in Bangalore, you would appreciate the efforts I used to take to navigate that road. Even otherwise, it was not uncommon to twist your ankle on that road. Over the last year they BMP guys had been pouring metal again and again and now the road is high enough to drain water into houses on its edges.Water Bond Macadam as civil engineers call it. But finally the BMP has woken up. They have started tarring roads in my area and the 7th Main has been tarred. No more cursing the BMP guys. They tarred the 300 metre strech ready in less than 12 hours.And now when I phone home(usually after dinner on my way back home(this home is bangalore home)), I can no longer say " Khadbadit rastya var aahe"(I am on the uneven road).

Male Of Two Cities

2005-04-08T07:49:00.000-07:00

If spending more than a year in a city entitles you the privilege of calling that city as yours, then now I am a male of two cities. After spending more than 20 years of my life in Bombay, this 3rd of April, I completed one year of my stay in Bangalore. I was about to title my post as the Anniversary Issue, but this name seemed more catchy. It has been an anniversary of all sorts of things to me. It is a year now since I have learnt to cycle. And it has been one year since I bought my Infy shares. Anniversaries apart, I have done many things for the first time. For the first time in my life I have started eating curd rice(disclaimer: only at select places like Balaji) and for the first time I have attended a share holder meeting. That apart, I have started enjoying Tamil Music and learnt to differentiate between Kannada and other South Indian languages. Though I cannot understand Kannada completely I can decipher it swalpa-swalpa(a little bit). I have already set my self appraisal targets for the next year though, though that does not mean that I am loving staying a thousand kms away from home and that is why I was more than happy to be in Bombay on the third.

April Fooling The Cabbie

2005-03-31T22:09:00.000-08:00

I am no longer fooled by taxi and rick drivers. I have started fooling them. To avenge the exorbitant fare of Rs 35 demanded by the rick driver for travelling less than a mile on my very first day in Bangalore, I found the april fool day suitable. I had just landed from the KSRTC Volvo in Bombay(near Ruia College) and a flock of cabbies surrounded me.I ignored them and walked to the bus stop. A cabbie still approached me and asked,"kidhar jaana hai?"(Where do you want to go?). I asked him how far is Kabutarkhanna as if I did not know that it is minimum fare by bus.He said that it would take 15 minutes, which was an acceptable estimate.Then I asked him whether he knows the buses that go there and he started looking at the bus numbers printed on the bus stop. Just then my bus came at the stop. I told him "mera bus aa gaya"(My bus is here) and ran to catch the bus.

Life Is Beautiful

2005-03-28T07:02:00.000-08:00

The previous post described how I 'celebrated' my birthday. But I missed writing about an important but sad happening. A fellow Infoscion lost his life on the infamous Hosur Road. Well, I did not know him, but Infosys is like a family to most Infoscions and the death of Amandeep Singh Gill was like a death of a close relative. Today as I was browsing through the bulletin board, I found a post by Amandeep. It was about a key of a bike that Amandeep had found in the parking area. It was posted barely 10 days before his death. One thing is for sure- avoid riding bikes on Hosur Road.

How I Celebrated My **th Birthday

2005-03-27T04:53:00.000-08:00

At 2330 hours on 23rd March, I was talking on the phone with my family when they said that they would call me up at midnight. I said that that was not necessary, considering that birthdays no longer are special days in my life. They never were actually, except I used to cry and feel sad when my birthdays used to come to an end. But that was during earlier years of my life. They called me not at midnight but at 2357 hours. I cut the phone and called them back because I had a cheaper mobile plan from Reliance.I told them that my birthday had not started yet,to which my sister replied that they heard the bell ring at the Portuguese Church which is about a kilometre away from my home. That guy never rings the bell on time. I distinctly remember he used to ring the 4 o'clock bell at 0410 hours when I used to cram for my engineering exams. Even as I was speaking on the phone I heard the beeps which indicated that Keyur was calling me. After speaking to Keyur, I sat on the terrace parapet(safe place--fall not more than 3 feet) pondering on the things which I still do not have or have not accomplished. Thats when I heard some hushing in my house. My roomies were not knowing about my birthday and I was happy about that because I was spared of those nasty kicks which Saumil got on his butts(I would have prefered to use a***). But now this hushing bothered me and as I entered the hall, Saumil asked me 'tera birthday hai kya?'(Is it your birthday today?). He was sleeping in the hall, because the fan in his bedroom was out of order-now for almost six months. The second phone had probably disturbed him. He confessed that he had swithced on the TV to check the time while I was talking on the phone and because it was exactly midnight he thought that it was my birthday.Lateral thinking. After about a minute of chatting with Saumil, I retired for the day. I was in dead sleep at 0545, when Nirmal gently asked me to move my hand aside. I was sleeping in some awkward position(no pun intended) and was blocking the access to the wardrobe. That did not disturb me much and the next thing to disturb me was the alarm set to 0715 hours on my mobile phone. I snoozed and went to bed, only to be waken a few minutes later. This time I did not snooze the alarm and was again into deep slumber before I somehow woke up at 0805 hours. I was trying to go to office early from the past one week(No reason being specified here. Draw your own conclusions). I was dressed up by 0845 and thats when Saumil told Harish that it was my birthday. Harish who had come at 0230 the previous night and was sleeping on the floor using the rolled bed as a pillow somehow managed to open his eyelids and then somehow managed to wish me. Saumil then said, " kya neelbhai birthday ke din shave nahi kar raha hai?"(Why did you not shave today?). I just said, " kya farak padta hai?"(What difference does that make?) and switched off the TV and bade goodbye to Udayan Mukherjee. We took an autorickshaw to the main road because it was a different day and different because we were late. Once into the Infy bus, I got a comfortable seat. Snigdha got into the bus at the next stop. She sat next to me, but I never told her that it was my birthday because I am a modest person and I did not want everyone in the bus to wish me. Manish called me to wish and I was sure that Swapnil and Heramb would call me sometime later in the day. Manish, Swapnil and Heramb are few guys from whom I do not hide many things. After I reached Infy I waited for Saumil to alight from the bus. He was sitting in some remote corner of the bus and it took him atleast three minutes to get down. We then proceeded towards Plantain Leaf, where I had Idli Vada( I usually avoid Vadas because of the dirty oil they put in). I was surprised when Allu wished me over there. Poets never forget birthdays. Swapnil also called me to wish and told me that the three musketeers were going to Matheran for the long weekend they were having in Bombay. When I came to my seat I found a yellow letter envelope with "To Neel N Arurkar" scribbled on it. I should have guessed who had put it over here considering that that person had included my middle name in it. But then I could not hold the excitement and opened the envelope.Obvioulsy it should have been Dheepak and Dheepak it was. In addition I also found a mail from him. Care was taken to send the mail at a time when I just logged in , so that I would find it on the top of all other mails...Coincidence??--I dont think so. I replied stating that though I liked the card it was not necessary to spend money and buy it. When you can save money, you should. There were a few mails wishing me and a few phone calls too. I picked up all the phone calls first against the usual practice of Keyur picking it up first anticipating Mukul's call. For those of you who do not know Mukul, he is one of the closest friend I have ever had till date.Over years we had perfected the art of talking without words and could bitch about you without you even knowing about it when we are sharing a table over a cup of coffee.It was a wait of a few more phone calls before a different ring was heard. It was Mukul calling. The last time we spoke to each other on a telephone was at about 1 am , 10th August 2004(have you seen Dil Chahta Hai?) when he had called me from the Bombay Airport.Yes, we had spoken on Yahoo Chat(voice) when I had gone home for Diwali, but not on telephone. We spoke for quite a long time. He told me that with every passing birthday I was moving away from home. I celebrated my last birthday, which was also the first birthday away from home was celebrated at Pune. He suggested that the next birthday could be somewhere even further.Since this is mail is going to be sent to my project group too, I must clarify that I am not writing of the work done on my birthday because the audience would not be interested in that and it was not that I did not touch work for the entire day. Just as I hanged up, Keyur was punching buttons on his engage and told me that he was calling 'Professor'. Professor was his previous landlord who is making lot of nakhras to give back their deposit. When Keyur returned to his desk, I noticed that it took him a unusally long time. He told me that he got one more call after the Professor's call. In just a few minutes two one kg Chocolate Fantasies were there at my desk. Ira had sent mails to the entire group minus me "Join me in wishing Neel for his birthday".The cakes were good. I cut them with a plastic spoon and blew away an unlit candle as we could not find a matchbox. No one smokes in my entire team!!!I served the unequally cut pieces to the team starting with the boss. I told them what Mukul had told me about moving further away from home to which Shubhashis reminded me that I no was no longer a boy. Anirban added that the next year, I could move further away from home, something which Mukul had spoken about too. As people were wiping away their hands, I invited them to a small icecream party as is the norm with our group. Marriages, child births, new cars and all other happy occasions end up strenthening my vow to work out in the gym regularly to burn the fat I am putting on. Later, I learnt that Keyur was in my bus and explicitly asked Saumil to keep mum, because he wanted to order a cake at CCD.Tummy was full and it was a late lunch at about 1330. Keyur and Neha waited for about 10 minutes in the building lobby as Lech finished some of his work before leaving for lunch. We were joined by Sarang, Rajan and Bhavman at Golconda. Two big pieces of cake had filled my tummy enough and I had just a fruit plate and a milkshake for lunch. I had to keep some space for the icecream at four. When our team left at four for the party, we once again had a chance to carry out stress testing for the elevator. It is a big team now. The treat was at Orchard Fresh, a deviation from the usual practice of having it at Amul(I am a fan of Verghese Kurien, but needed a change. Orchard Fresh serves some good icecream flavours like Orange Fantasy, apricot with wine and also milkshakes and sodapops. About 40 minutes were spent here. Once at my desk, I did some work before I retired to write a part of this post. Busy Heramb called at about 7 pm. At about 8 pm, Neha was at my desk to give me some lessons about Futures and Options. Unfortunately, I could not get the demo as the site was down(not writing the name here, beacuase I dont want to advertise about them, especially since the two Cs in their name stand for Chor). Meanwhile, Wilson called me and asked me what future I see about the Indian Market and what stocks can be picked. Sometimes I think I have more domain knowledge about equity markets than the people who are working in that domain. We left by the 9:15 bus. I usually have the habit of travelling home alone(note: alone not lonely). That gives me time to think, observe and sometimes eavesdrop(when people talk about loudly.not intentional).I got down at the BTM water tank and proceeded alone to Balaji. Balaji is a restaurant that serves 5 mm thick rotis(hyped). Regular dinner was skipped as I settled down for a Masala Dosa and WaterMelon juice. I have often thought about not eating at Balaji because that guy employs child labour, but I do not have any choice. My roomies are not open to cooking at home and other hotels in my area suck. Once out of the hotel, I phoned home. I told them how the day was and they told me that they had gone to a temple in the evening. The last time I have been to a temple is with my friends to appreciate the art over there and that was out of the city when we were on a picnic. My sister teased me that there were less than 90 minutes left for the 'special' day to get over and I suggested that she should give me a missed call at twelve. Once at home, Saumil asked me how the day was. Harish had decided to stay back in Infy and Nirmal had gone home for Holi. Meanwhile Heramb, Swapnil and Manish called once again to wish me. After hanging up, I started watching a Anil Kapoor movie going on(Nayak) on some channel out of the 100 odd channels.Back home, I did not have that many options. It was either DD1 or DD2. It was an okay movie and I started watching it. The movie is about how a middle class boy goes on to become a chief minister and weeds out corruption in the society. I was 'engrossed' in the film, when I got the missed call. The day was over. But then who cares. I am no longer a boy.
PS: Some events might not be written since the blog is for all kinds of audiences.

Chaplinitis

2005-03-19T04:16:00.000-08:00

Chaplinitis were competitions immensely popular across America in the 1910s where people imitated Charlie Chaplin. It was at one such Chaplinitis, as the legend goes, that Charlie Chaplin was awarded the third position. People also talked about the duplicate Saddams. Identifying the fakes have been a real headache for people(no pun intended). I remember Mukul forging my signature on a notebook during a boring lecture at Ruia. Yes, Abhiroop adjugded the forged signature as the real one. In a similar incident, my degree certificate was being verified. I had a coloured photocopy in addition to the original. I asked the person in authority which one was the original. Sure enough, the chaplin certificate lost.

The Malayalee Face Cut

2005-03-13T03:21:00.000-08:00

Haircuts in Bangalore are about 50% cheaper than they used to be in Bombay. However, I am disadvantaged here because I cannot decipher the barber gossip. The saloon where I have been visiting ever since I have come to Bangalore is called RamLakhan Haircutting Saloon. It has a 2ft*3ft tin portrait of Anil Kapoor parked right in front of the entrance. The barber now knows me to an extent that I dont have to tell him how to cut my hair. But still he always asks me a question.."Malayalee??" and I say no. Then he goes on with a list "Tamil?,Telgu?,Kannad?" and thats when I stop him and tell that I am "Hindi" for I am sure he has never heard of a language called Marathi. This has repeated as many times as I have had an haircut. So finally, the last time I went I asked him why he thinks I am a Malayalee and he told me that I have a Malayalee face cut!!!

L'attitude Difference

2005-03-12T23:14:00.000-08:00

Does the difference in latitudes contribute towards the difference in attitudes. Yes, if I compare the experiences I have had in these two cities. Geographically speaking Bangalore(12°57'N,77°37'E) and Bombay(18°54'N,72°49'E) are two cities about a thousand kilometres apart. Bombay is the commercial capital of the country and Bangalore is the software hub of India. I need not speak about Bombay and the opportunities it provides, but considering the fact that the software industry is one of the important contributor to the Indian economy, Bangalore is an important place on the map of India too. But the key difference between these two places, apart from the fact the Bombay is humid and Bangalore is cool, is that Bombay is a cosmopolitan city and Bangalore is a pseudo cosmopolitan city. People just start speaking to you in Kannada. Whether it is at some shop, restaurant or city buses, people will always start speaking in Kannada. And even if you start speaking in Hindi, which is the national language, people still speak to you in the local tongue. This must be beacuse they either dont know to speak the national language or they dont want to speak it. This would never be the case in Bombay, where no one will assume that you speak the local tongue. The bus conductor would always say " jaldi chadho" and not " lavkar chadha" (or bega, bega, bega as Bangalore bus conductors might say). Sometimes I feel that a survey of how many people in the city, whose mothertongue is not Hindi can understand and speak Hindi, should be conducted across cities in India.
To conclude, I would like to say that I am expecting some harsh comments from Kashyap who hails from Bangalore. But the truth is that Bangalore will take another decade atleast to become a truly a cosmopolitan city, a fact which most Bangaloreans are not comfortable with.

The Moment Of Truth

2005-03-12T23:05:00.000-08:00

Never has Neel blogged an event within an hour of the event happening. But today is a different day.
I have often felt guilty for not intervening at the right time. When a taxi caught fire opppsite Portuguese Church and people gheraoed the taxi driver and were almost going to rough him for no fault of his, I remained a mute spectator. Not only had the poor cabbie lost his taxi to the flames but now he was being roughed up by the trigger happy people. Another incident which comes to my mind happened opposite Borivili station at a softy joint during my engineering days. The softywalla gave a lady a biscuit cone which he had just dropped on the floor a few minutes ago. In this case however I blasted the softywala after the lady had gone. But the damage was already done.
I did not remain a silent spectator today though. The incident occured when I was about to board the 1030 am bus to Infy. Infy bus(contracted) driver sharply cut lanes and stopped at the bus stop. A moped dirver had to brake in order to prevent an accident. It was Infy bus driver's fault. The moped driver parked his vehicle in front of the bus. Something was about to happen and I knew I would be in no position to decode the conversation since it would happen in the local language, Kannada. But I do understand the language of the world (influenced by The Alchemist). The mopedwala shouted something at the driver which I am sure were the dirtiest of expletives in Kannada. And that was not all. He marched towards the door of the bus. I knew if I remained a mute spectator to this event, I would further be trampled under the mountain of guilt. This was the moment of truth. Just then the indignant mopedwala picked up a brick lying on the pavement. I held him and tried to calm him down. I pleaded on behalf of the bus driver and told him to let the matter go. Well I confess that I couldnt calm him down completely. But he atleast did not hurl the brick at the windshield and I would like to take the credit for that. He went ahead and started arguing with the driver and I knew that my job had been done. I now was walking to board the bus. And now some bike driver says to me " maar khana hai kya.... bus main jaake beth jao"(do you want to get thrashed.... get into the bus). I gave him the stare of his life. It is the eyes which speak your strength(The Alchemist again). I did not want to get engaged in a brawl. The rest of the people were mute spectators. Not one came ahead to help the bus driver. I got into the bus. Then I heard a feeble brick bang against the tin of the bus. That was necessary to satisy the ego of the moped driver. The windshield was saved. No one was hurt. And I am sure there was no damage to the bus. I could see the bike driver(not the moped driver)laugh and drive away. He had seen one tamasha and was happy with that. The bus driver was happy because he was not thrashed. People in the bus were happy because they could now go to office. And I was happy because I got a story to blog.

The 6 Rupee Ticket

2005-03-10T05:36:00.000-08:00

It remained nailed in my cubicle for three months. I resisted the temptation of attaching it with the LTA application. Well the six rupees would have saved some tax for me. But then, it is the sentiment that matters. It was a western railway ticket from Dadar to Vile Parle. That was the last time I had travelled by local train in Bombay. I was planning to preserve it atleast till the next time I go to Bombay.
Such small things do bring comfort to you when you are a thousand kilometres away from home. But that was not to be. The house keeping staff cleaned my cubicle last weekend and threw the ticket away.

HBEMWLFI

2005-03-08T04:22:00.000-08:00

How much money you make is not important. But how you make it certainly is. This I have known eversince I was a child. I started a gambling den even before I ever gambled. I was in ninth standard at that time and there was a cricket World Cup going on. I started accepting bets on matches. I did not know anything about probability and neither did the rest of the students. The guys and gals who put money were just asked to name the country that would lift the cup and if they got it right, they would double their money. About 30 people placed bets with me. Everyone placed bets on almost all countries except SriLanka. And when SriLanka won the tournament, the only one who was happy was me. I had accumulated a fortune of Rs. 21.50/-
Eventhough, the den was closed after the tournament and I became a computer engineer and not a bookie, I still love making easy money. A hundred bucks of easy money is worth a lac you get from fixed income(HBEMWLFI).

The Set Theory Behind Blogging

2005-03-05T05:28:00.000-08:00

Just google my name and you find my blog. So what is to be put into the blog has to be carefully looked into because your blog is in public domain. There are things you would not like your friends to know and there are things you would not like your employers/prospective employers to know. Not that I care much, but then when you visit my blog you may see 'I am what my blog is. Well, ALMOST ' in the about me section.It is the almost part that matters the most. So what you have here is a careful intersection of what I want various types of audience to view. And if you expect to find a post about how I threw the fly out of my pineapple juice and simply drank the rest, you must be crazy.

Capturing the Russian Prez

2005-02-26T07:38:00.000-08:00

Capturing the Russian Prez was so easy for us. Infact we captured him over lunch. But it was much more difficult for the press who ran throughout the campus to film him. We were having lunch on the first floor of FoodCourtOne and Keyur had carried a camcorder just in case we came across Putin. We had finished more than half when we saw the media people running from the corporate building. Keyur took out his cam from the case and we were all ready to shoot, when to our disappointment we saw a cavalcade a 100 metres away from us. Limousines with tinted glasses and we thought we had missed Putin. Infact, I saw some guy sitting in the limo whom I thought was Putin. And thats when we started lunching again. Keyur joked that cavalcade had gone but the Prez will fool everyone by walking through the campus. And yes!!!!. The Prez fooled us. There he was with his strong contingent of about 30-35 people. Wearing a grey coloured suit and looking smart as usual. With Murthy guiding him, the Prez was looking impressed by the campus. Later in a press release he said that he couldnt beleive that people can work in such a beautiful campus. But now it was turn of our man to capture him. Keyur was filming Putin and the rest of our group which included Lech and Kashyap and a few others time shared between looking at Putin , Anna Kournikovas,the KGB people and Keyur's forehead(to ensure that there is no laser pointed there). So we had had him. And we were happy about that till Keyur disclosed his doubts. He asked us which one of the contingent was Putin and later said that he had noticed no one in a grey suit. Later we discovered that Keyur had got less of Putin and more of his bodyguards.

Disclaimer: This is a disclaimer applicable throughout my blog. My writings here in no way are an indicative of my company's views and policies and note that I am not the PRO of my company.

Mother of all jams

2005-02-23T20:09:00.000-08:00

That was the topic of the day on the BB. For those of you who dont know what a BB is, it stands for bulletin board. A place where people in a company discuss issues, sell TVs and mobile phones and post A+ve blood needed requests, the BB has nothing to do with pen and paper, but is an electronic interface and can be accessed as a folder in your Outlook or through a web interface. It indeed was mother of all jams. I have never been stuck in a jam for this long. I boarded the company bus at 0850 hours and reached office at 1130. I used to travel from Pune to Bombay, a distance of about 130 kms in 90 minutes. And today I spent 160 minutes to travel a distance of 13 kms.
Some interesting statistics posted by someone called Jaise George who travelled to office in a car:
-->Time taken : 225 minutes
-->Distance travelled : 25 kms
-->Songs listened : 54
-->Time spent on a flyover : 28 minutes
-->Gear shifted above 1st : 4
-->Diesel spent : 6 litres

Luckily I had a book and a cutie next to me.

Air Deccan

2005-02-22T20:52:00.000-08:00

Does a company's name deserve to be the title of my post? Well, dont quite know. But what I know is that I am going to spend more money on travelling from Bangalore to Bombay by bus than I will travelling back by air. To be precise, I am going to spend 981 bucks on the bus and just 721 on the plane. Just in case, you dont know the business model of Air Deccan, the airline offers 5 seats at 721( 500 + 221 tax) . The pricing of a seat depends on the availability of seats at that time and also on the timing of your booking. I was lucky to get this ticket at this price eventhough I booked just two months in advance. Yes, life for poor people(middle class is a more euphemistic term) is full of compromises. The first compromise is that I had to book the ticket two months in advance, but no problems about that. My boss is a nice guy and approves my leaves.(Hope he reads this ;-) )The second compromise is that the ticket I got was a Thursday ticket against the prefered Monday ticket. By the way, it is because of Air Deccan that I have stopped flying Jet. And at the time of writing this Jet IPO is on. So, I am still thinking whether I should put my cash in the IPO or not. With more and more no frills airlines coming up, more and more people will desert Jet.

Sweets at my desk

2005-02-14T15:44:00.000-08:00

People are just waiting to distribute sweets and more people are waiting to grab them. The reasons are many. Someone has just returned from onsite, a baby was born to someone, someone is getting married or someone has just bought a new house. Such a 'someone' fooled quite a few people in SETLabs. When I say fooled, it was because of bad e-mail etiquettes of the sender and the people who were fooled. And I was one those who were fooled. This person had sent a mail about a fortnight ago with the subject "sweets at my desk" about a fortnight ago. Today, he replied all to the same mail with some different contents in the mail. Totally unaware of the contents of the mail, I rushed to the first floor of building 19 along with Keyur( we sit on the second floor), where we found out that we had goofed. But that was okay.There were a few more with us and we all had a nice laugh.

How much do you get?

2005-02-13T18:22:00.000-08:00

I dont understand why people keep asking this question. I have been asked this question a few hundred times. The latest incident which prompted me to write this occured on Hosur Road. If you have read some of my previous posts and have come across the one in which I write about the traffic snarls on Hosur Road, you would expect me to eavesdrop some interesting conversation. Yes!!! That is exactly what I did today. Our bus(company bus) was crawling in the traffic and a BMTC( public transport in Bangalore) bus was running parallel to us. The conductor of this BMTC bus who was standing at the gate started a conversation with our bus driver. He started by asking what company did he work for to which our driver replied "Infosys" with the 'fo' pronounced as you do in forest. A few questions followed and even though the entire conversation was in Kannada, I could make out what the BMTC conductor was asking. Just to verify, I asked the two girls sitting next to me what was the discussion all about. They told me about the Salary question and also what the driver replied. Well, if you are the one who keeps asking this question, then you must be interested in the answer too. Well, he gets 2000 a month. Now let me clarify as I end this post, that the driver was not an Infosys employee, but an employee of the contractor from whom the buses were hired.

The Apple Cake

2005-01-17T20:18:00.000-08:00

Possibly this is the first blog in which I am writing about an incident that did not happen to me, but to my friend, Ritesh Jain, who at this very moment is at Turkey and its his birthday today.So, happy birthday Ritesh. And just because, this is my blog,I will make it a point to include something about me. The common thing between Ritesh and me, is that we both celebrated the latest birthday, and possibly the only one, away from home. I celebrated my birthday at Pune during my first days at Infosys and because I was not assigned to any project then, celebrations were missing. The only person who remebered my birthday in my company was Sandeep Hegde and he does that for everyone, I clarify. Not that I wanted to be wished, but then I have to put on a stark contrast when I describe Ritesh's birthday celebs away from home.
Talking about Ritesh, he is a staunch vegetarian. I remember him thanking me profusely at St. Francis' canteen when I pointed out to him that meat was being served over there. So strict he is that he thought a thousand times before sipping water at my home, lest it be mixed with beef. So, eating a cake and trusting that it does not contain egg and that too in a country like Turkey, where I am sure that finding a pure veg restaurant is quite a task, was going to be difficult for Ritesh. And I am sure, it was no easy task for the employees at BOTAS finding a veg birthday cake for the birthday boy. And they didnt want to let the occasion go by, without a cake being cut. So, a vegetarian cake was cut. It was an apple with a candle on the top. It indeed is going to be one of the most cherished birthday in Ritesh's life.

Meeting the founder

2005-01-11T18:56:00.000-08:00

Well, I have met founders of many companies. Infact, I am one of the co-founder of a company called Engi**** Edutainments. If you dont know what the 4 stars stand for, you need not worry. You dont need to know it. Just to clarify, its not that 4 lettered word which begins with an 'F'. The other founders, I dont remember, but this one was different. He was the co-founder of Infosys Technologies Ltd and before you start guessing, let me clarify that he wasnt Nandan or Murthy. He was S.Gopalkrishnan, popularly called as Kris at Infy. The event was HiPC 2004 (hipc.org) and the venue was Taj Residency, Bangalore. Kris had just given his inaugral speech and after all other speakers had finished, he was leaving the hall. We did not intend to speak to him, but then, we did not want to let him go without letting him know that we were representing Infosys at the conference. We had a small chat with him. He said he would love to see Infy steal a place in the top 500 grid list. And yes, I shook hands with him too. Nothing to boast of I know. But then, its good to meet people whom you admire.

Shriman Shrimati Laughter

2005-01-11T18:25:00.000-08:00

First blog of this year is about the first movie I saw this year. By the first movie, I mean the first movie I saw in a theatre this year. After we have bought a second hand TV here at Bangalore, I have seen more movies than I had ever seen before. Also worth mentioning is that it was my first movie at PVR, Bangalore.
The movie was Dil Mange More. Sick Movie. I really fail to understand how someone can make such a movie, and how people like such movies. Infact, one of the guys who liked the movie was sitting next to me and sits next to me in my cube. That is, he says that the movie was TP.
But this is not why I wanted to blog this. If I start writing blogs about flop movies, the number would be far greater than the number of posts I have made till date. The thing that I noticed was that people were laughing at top of their voices for no joke at all. Do you not remember that Shriman Shrimati type laughter, where you could here loud laughter in chorus for something as inhumorous as ringing a door bell. And yes, it made you laugh, didnt it? Same here. Some guys in the hall, laughed like they were being tickled for no reason at all. And it made everyone in the hall laugh. All that I can say about such people is that either they have a stupid sense of humour or they were hired.

Writing on the palm

2004-12-23T18:08:00.000-08:00

It was so common when I was in school. I remember the days when some damn red coloured dot on the hand was called as "Jolly". The game was called as Jolly-Jolly and participants in that game had to have that dot on their palms whenever they met, failing which they would get either ten shots on their back(pun not intended at all) or a plate of batata vada from our famous IES canteen. Not that I enjoyed that game, but nevertheless I played along with a select few who would not beat me hard when I forgot to tatoo my hand with the ball pen ink. Though this game was played primararily when I was in primary, but it didnt mean that writing on the palm stopped when I went to the fifth standard. Big boys, bigger games. Somehow I was infatuated with the Nazi Swastik(and some weird signs like that) and used to draw it on the forearms to make sure everyone sees it. Somehow, like everyone else, I loved attention too. And yes, how can I forget practicing my signature....many times on the paper and a few times on the palm. Must have practiced atleast a thousand times before I got the 'perfect' one. (do you ICICI Bank guys know what efforts I have taken just to practice the signature I have on your forms)
I dont remember when things changed. I dont remember when I started hating writing on the palms. Probably when I was no longer a innocent kid, I realised that writing on the palm was 'bad'. Was this after some elder in the family told me to get rid of this habit? Or was it after my brief stint with the leaking ink pens. Probably because of the leaking pens, I guess. They really made my hands look ugly and that must have been when I must have realised that unwritten palms are cleam palms. And yes, I stopped using ink pens while I was in school and this tempts me to conclude that I stopped writing on my palms when I was in my last years of my school. Probably the last time I did it must be while jotting someones phone number. But soon hated the habit of jotting phone numbers on palms after I realised that these phone numbers are always soaped away.
Today when I was in the gridlab and was talking to the CCD(computers and communication dept) guy on the phone which was a good ten feet away from my AIX machine, I had to write on my palm-- not the jolly sign or the Nazi swastik, but the MAC address of the machine.

Eavesdropping on Hosur Road..

2004-12-22T19:29:00.000-08:00

Well not exactly eavesdropping. But then you cant possibly turn a deaf ear when someone in your bus is shouting at top of his/her voice. And consider the time I used to spend on Hosur road a month ago. It was almost an hour and a half per day. And as I dont usually read books or play games in the bus, listening to such conversation becomes my prime pass time. As it used to be when I used to travel by train to college for 4 long engineering years. This not only helped me to pick up quite a bit of Gujurati but it also made me interested in the stock markets. All that I have got from the stocks...I owe it to you Gujurati brokers who used to commute with me.(Well, Mukul was the guy who really pulled me into the market..he must get due credit for that)
Coming back to Bangalore, now that things on Hosur road have improved, my entertainment has reduced. But nevertheless I would like to share these two incidents with you.
The first one is about a girl who was talking in English. She was loud enough so that her voice could reach the other end of the bus, but I dont know how many people were not reading books or playing games so that they could catch this bit of humour.
Infy Girl(IG) : I cant eat. My gums are swollen.
Other End(OE) : .......( I couldnt hear this...but could figure what was said after IG said the next line)
IG : Stupid...GUMS GUMS
By the way, did you get it?
The other one was a guy talking in Marathi either to his wife or would be in Marathi. And thats the problem when you are in some other state. You tend to assume that none of the people around you can speak your tongue. This guy persistenly kept asking her, " Maazya barobar anghol karayla nahi ka mhantes?"(Why are you hesitant to bathe along with me?). Well, the sad part about the second conversation is that I couldnt make out what the other person replied.