The best way to kill an idea is to take it to a meeting. I am in a meeting now. The only good thing about it is the cool breeze from the AC just behind me, after the heat of the workshop this feels like paradise. In front of me many people are arguing with each other. I understand that its about the distribution of responsibilities.
Its becoming a game of water polo with everyone using colorful management terms and trying to shirk workload whilst trying to justify it in the most honest manner. The seniors speak about holistic view. This view i understand has nothing to do with holes or his holiness the pope. Its a term used as pre emptive strike to make your subordinate look narrow minded and is the best way to drive the point home that "you got to do it coz i am saying so"
It is used right after someone has finished explaining the utter unfeasibility of a particular suggestion made by you, thats when you say "try to see the holistic view" a better variation would be "why cant you see the holistic view" In a second you have proved to everyone arond the table that
1)the suggestion is viable
2)the subordinate is too low to understand intellectuals like you.
Also, it has acted as a silent message to everyone that whatever happens this thing is got to be done.
The people around the long table, are arguing heatedly. I can hear a lot of holistic views. I am sitting calmly though. If they see me now they see a man who is listening. I know thats the way they like people, those who sit serene and tranquil ...
Under the table my hands work furiously. I think i have learnt how to type on my keypad without looking.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Two hours for life
It was the company annual gathering yesterday. It was a good evening, although i mean that in a meteorogical sense. No social outing can be enjoyed while ones own stomach feels like an aquarium.
The entertainments started by sundown. The people performing on stage werent professionals and this fact was clear by their performance. They are employees of the company and were chosen to participate after a gruesome selection process.
They were now performing in front of 2000 people.
Some of them may have had performed before and were veterans, some others may have enough experience for this to be just another performance.
However for those doing it for the first time this was a great evening. They dont know it yet, wont realise it for some time.
These two hours are going to be theirs for life. This evening will be with them always whenever they are down in life, this evening will remind them that they are something. The beauty of this setup is that they donot know this yet. They are fidgetting, worrying and scurrying about to make sure everything is perfect for their performance.
Maybe one late night one of them is lying on his/her bed wondering about themselves, and what they are this evening will answer. The people around me were grumbling, discussing how mediocre the whole show was, How could this be allowed. They didnt know the significance of this evening to all the people on stage.
I personally will remember this evening as the only time in modern history when i didnt have reshmi kababs while they were offered to me. Upset stomachs dont like reshmi kababs.
The entertainments started by sundown. The people performing on stage werent professionals and this fact was clear by their performance. They are employees of the company and were chosen to participate after a gruesome selection process.
They were now performing in front of 2000 people.
Some of them may have had performed before and were veterans, some others may have enough experience for this to be just another performance.
However for those doing it for the first time this was a great evening. They dont know it yet, wont realise it for some time.
These two hours are going to be theirs for life. This evening will be with them always whenever they are down in life, this evening will remind them that they are something. The beauty of this setup is that they donot know this yet. They are fidgetting, worrying and scurrying about to make sure everything is perfect for their performance.
Maybe one late night one of them is lying on his/her bed wondering about themselves, and what they are this evening will answer. The people around me were grumbling, discussing how mediocre the whole show was, How could this be allowed. They didnt know the significance of this evening to all the people on stage.
I personally will remember this evening as the only time in modern history when i didnt have reshmi kababs while they were offered to me. Upset stomachs dont like reshmi kababs.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Early morning
Its early morning and I am at chandani chowk waiting for the company vehicle. The NDA- National Defence academy is 1.5 km. Away. And the view is vast. I am thinking about something else. I am thinking that if we are in a haunted house we should make ugly faces to scare any ghosts that may be around. To let them know that you are going to do it to them and not they to you. If life hands you lemons make a lemon powered battery and give it an electric shock. I havent had enough sleep last night.
Udupi Manchurians
Its a south indian restaurant and i have ordered Mushroom fried rice. Thats the only chinese item i can eat here. Udupi people are meant to make dosas and sambhars and not veg Manchurian. I am saying this because the manchurian here looks like vada sambar. The vadas smell like napthalene balls. The overall effect is of watching Rajnikanth in a Jackie Chan movie.
In Pune finding a good restaurant is a mission that takes some time. Firstly one has to find a good place ... Anyways the steaming rice has arrived. The mushrooms look like they have been in a bar fight. Now for a fine dinner.
The Bitch
I am looking out of the window watching the fields and small houses pass by as our company bus races along the highway. I am thinking about the bitch. And why they did that to her. Today morning i read about the bitch that was caught by the PMC dog catchers and dragged after their vehicle with a rope tied around her neck. 2 kilometres later she gave up and died. She was unwilling to go with them because she had to look after her eight puppies. They are now lying by the roadside. Motherless. We have once again surpassed all expectations. When slumdog didnt have characters like these. The bus is now passing by the Ambedkar institute for tribal studies. Outside the gate itself are a few slums, or maybe they are the labs.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Test
I am trying to blog through my cellphone. That way i can maintain my blog better. In a few minutes i will know if this works.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Have
Back from Work - Pune Room
It was the first day of work after vacation. I am back to life in Pune. The heat here is bearable only because there isnt any sweat, clothes dont stick to you and you feel fresh. I'd still prefer to be in Goa despite the sweat, and despite everything. Nothing like being at home.
Is this what i want? If not, then what do i want?
In other ways Do we want to want what we want?.
Like If i want to build a heat exchanger in record time, is that what i actually want to do? Am i wanting to build a heat exchanger only because someone else (or everyone else) wants to build it in record time. If i want to build it fast just because everyone is doing the same, is that what i want?
do i want to do something just because everyone else is doing the same?
So, do we want to want what we want?
If we dont get something is it because someone else wanted it more? Are successful people better at wanting their success than unsuccessful people? Sucess is getting what you want to get. In that way people who get what they want are successful. Arent lazy people the most sucessful? For want to get out of work and actually doing it?
Is it then that to achieve sucess we have to go after what we really want? Why do we hesitate to want what we want. Is it possible to extract in single piece our own pure desires and wants from those of others when they are mixed so badly? Are the lazy people so sucessful (in theory) only because they have managed to isolate their wants? isolated their wants so much that accept them as their own.
The fan is loosing speed, the room is suddenly silent. There is one other thing that Goa doesnt have, electricity load shedding. Its a long night ahead. Good night.
It was the first day of work after vacation. I am back to life in Pune. The heat here is bearable only because there isnt any sweat, clothes dont stick to you and you feel fresh. I'd still prefer to be in Goa despite the sweat, and despite everything. Nothing like being at home.
Is this what i want? If not, then what do i want?
In other ways Do we want to want what we want?.
Like If i want to build a heat exchanger in record time, is that what i actually want to do? Am i wanting to build a heat exchanger only because someone else (or everyone else) wants to build it in record time. If i want to build it fast just because everyone is doing the same, is that what i want?
do i want to do something just because everyone else is doing the same?
So, do we want to want what we want?
If we dont get something is it because someone else wanted it more? Are successful people better at wanting their success than unsuccessful people? Sucess is getting what you want to get. In that way people who get what they want are successful. Arent lazy people the most sucessful? For want to get out of work and actually doing it?
Is it then that to achieve sucess we have to go after what we really want? Why do we hesitate to want what we want. Is it possible to extract in single piece our own pure desires and wants from those of others when they are mixed so badly? Are the lazy people so sucessful (in theory) only because they have managed to isolate their wants? isolated their wants so much that accept them as their own.
The fan is loosing speed, the room is suddenly silent. There is one other thing that Goa doesnt have, electricity load shedding. Its a long night ahead. Good night.
Friday, April 17, 2009
History
10:00pm. Mumbai
I am standing at the entrance of a local train going to Vashi. Its speed is making it rock from side to side. there isnt much to see but fields and the odd cluster of buildings. Only the humid wind feels good on my face. Behind me is the man sitting on a stack of photo albums. He hasnt found a seat, but is working at slipping photographs into the albums. He pushes the snaps into the polythene covers, thats what he does for a living putting snaps into polythene covers.
The people in the pictures are all smiling, i think its the bride and groom. The album in the mans hand is probably the most eagerly awaited piece of documentation for them. The entire family are going to pore over each page carefully, joke over every captured moment. There may be quarrels over turning the pages and taunts about the clothes make up and jewellery. Then the bride and bridegroom will go through it fondly, the groom will make naughty remarks about her poses while she tries to point out her relatives to him, this will go on for some days before the bride places it amidst new sarees in the shelf of a brand new cupboard that still smells of oil paint.
It will be retrieved often in the days to come for the benefit of visiting guests who couldnt attend the ceremony. By this time the plactic on the cover will come off at the corner. Someone else will get married or the couple will go on a trip and the album will then be outdated. It will be placed further back in the cupboard or maybe placed in a bottom drawer together with other papers that are "needed but not now".
A couple of more years while the couple is cleaning, the kids will find the album and go through it, wondering when such a big function took place and more importantly why they arent in it. The most basic study of history. It may be puzzling to find their parents so happy together like they have never seen them. A lot of innocent questions may follow, the mother may give some story even promise to take them for the next such function if they are good. They may be too busy cleaning and let the children figure out things for themselves.
The album will then be "needed but not here" It will be placed in a box and the box will go to the attic . It will stay there throughout the childrens growing up years, and it wont be retrieved while the parents are busy working though their middle age and their ungrateful teenagers argue with them over everything. The album may see daylight during routine cleanings, and if the family decides to shift. The grownups will be gone and the parents will now be alone and too tired to be cleaning the attic. The album will have to wait while they watch their television.
The grownups will come back one day and one afternoon decide to clean up. They will wonder whats in the old boxes and wonder if it is required. Parental gratitude if not paternal love will make them stop the cleaning and go through the entire album. For the parents it will be a revitaliser, a sudden reminder of sweet nothings and starry eyes and soft holding of hands at the sunset. It may also remind them silently of the dreams they had shared. The album will be a part of those dreams, the only scrap they have; like the reciept of the dreams that destiny took away. The grownups will leave in a day or two. This piece of sepia documented history will remain on the coffe table.
The train pulls into Vashi station. The man is now playing with his handset. The photos have all been put into the albums. All history has been documented. A young couple suddenly gets up and come to him, "chalo, lift the albums we have to get down here" The bride says and then frowns. They both appear puzzled as to why i am smiling at them. The train grinds to a halt and i walk away.
I am standing at the entrance of a local train going to Vashi. Its speed is making it rock from side to side. there isnt much to see but fields and the odd cluster of buildings. Only the humid wind feels good on my face. Behind me is the man sitting on a stack of photo albums. He hasnt found a seat, but is working at slipping photographs into the albums. He pushes the snaps into the polythene covers, thats what he does for a living putting snaps into polythene covers.
The people in the pictures are all smiling, i think its the bride and groom. The album in the mans hand is probably the most eagerly awaited piece of documentation for them. The entire family are going to pore over each page carefully, joke over every captured moment. There may be quarrels over turning the pages and taunts about the clothes make up and jewellery. Then the bride and bridegroom will go through it fondly, the groom will make naughty remarks about her poses while she tries to point out her relatives to him, this will go on for some days before the bride places it amidst new sarees in the shelf of a brand new cupboard that still smells of oil paint.
It will be retrieved often in the days to come for the benefit of visiting guests who couldnt attend the ceremony. By this time the plactic on the cover will come off at the corner. Someone else will get married or the couple will go on a trip and the album will then be outdated. It will be placed further back in the cupboard or maybe placed in a bottom drawer together with other papers that are "needed but not now".
A couple of more years while the couple is cleaning, the kids will find the album and go through it, wondering when such a big function took place and more importantly why they arent in it. The most basic study of history. It may be puzzling to find their parents so happy together like they have never seen them. A lot of innocent questions may follow, the mother may give some story even promise to take them for the next such function if they are good. They may be too busy cleaning and let the children figure out things for themselves.
The album will then be "needed but not here" It will be placed in a box and the box will go to the attic . It will stay there throughout the childrens growing up years, and it wont be retrieved while the parents are busy working though their middle age and their ungrateful teenagers argue with them over everything. The album may see daylight during routine cleanings, and if the family decides to shift. The grownups will be gone and the parents will now be alone and too tired to be cleaning the attic. The album will have to wait while they watch their television.
The grownups will come back one day and one afternoon decide to clean up. They will wonder whats in the old boxes and wonder if it is required. Parental gratitude if not paternal love will make them stop the cleaning and go through the entire album. For the parents it will be a revitaliser, a sudden reminder of sweet nothings and starry eyes and soft holding of hands at the sunset. It may also remind them silently of the dreams they had shared. The album will be a part of those dreams, the only scrap they have; like the reciept of the dreams that destiny took away. The grownups will leave in a day or two. This piece of sepia documented history will remain on the coffe table.
The train pulls into Vashi station. The man is now playing with his handset. The photos have all been put into the albums. All history has been documented. A young couple suddenly gets up and come to him, "chalo, lift the albums we have to get down here" The bride says and then frowns. They both appear puzzled as to why i am smiling at them. The train grinds to a halt and i walk away.
First post
I was trying to get a better name for this blog but they have all been taken. There is no real reason for this name, only that it was available and i wanted to start a blog. There is a reason behind choosing this though i think you'll figure it out by the background color.
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