My Phobia My Friend

“Hippopoto-Monstro-sesquipedalio-phobia” is the word for “Fear of long words”. Sounds absurd right?

Well, by definition phobia is an anxiety disorder that causes irrational fears. There are many crazy phobias in the world, but the latest and also the stupidest on the list is “Namophobia”, which is the fear of being without cellphones.

Three years ago in UK, a bunch of demophobics – i.e people who fear being in crowds, joined hands to come up with a solution to address their fear, which we now know it as “Brexit”

Jokes apart, phobias are serious but therapies do help if one can afford. So my option is either try to work around or make peace with your phobia.

I went for a second option. Well I have a phobia towards an imaginary friend. Not mine, but others imaginary friend.

The first incident happened when I was six. It was a Sunday night. I was playing with my friend at her house. It was just me, her and her ancient-looking granny in the house when the power went off. So we lit the candle in the living room and sat on the chairs. "If there was the power we could have played catch," I said. "We still can. See” she picked a ball and gently rolled straight into the dark room in front of us. I was confused, but after a few seconds, like a scene out of some bloody horror movie, the ball came out of the darkroom rolling towards us and stopped right at my feet. I asked her in a shivering voice “Who is in there?” she said” That’s my friend Kaya. Oh…you can't see her. Only I can”. I had a strange reaction to the situation. I fainted. I was down with fever for a week and when I woke up my mother told me that the family had shifted to a different town and I asked: "Did they take kaya with them?”

The second instance when I was forcefully made aware of someone’s imaginary friend happened 7 years ago. My friend left her 6-year-old daughter to me to babysit for a few hours. We played for some time and then I opened my laptop to work and she sat down to do some drawings. After some time she held a paper in front of my face. The coloured sketch showed a man and a girl holding hands and one more girl standing a bit far from these two. Though the sketch looked bit ominous, I said “wow, that’s nice". “This is you” she pointed to an eerie figure of a man. "This must be you," I said pointing to the girl next to the man. She said “No. I am here and pointed to another figure standing far”.

“Oh. So who is this?”

“That’s my friend. She likes you”.

“That’s sweet. Have I met her? What’s her name?”.

 “Her name is Kaya. Oh, you can’t see her”

Blood started draining from my face.  “Sweetheart do you and your friend mind if I go out and make some calls?” After an hour my friend Anita met me at the door.

“Are you crazy? You have called me 14 times. “Sorry. It’s serious. Your friend has an imaginary daughter”. 

“What?”

“I mean. Your daughter has an imaginary friend. “Are you insane?” she asked.

 “Your daughter is the one with an imaginary friend. Not me"

"It is quite natural to have an imaginary friend at that age for a girl. I don't know why that freaks you out". “Samy. Come out we are leaving.” Can I request Samy to take kaya with her, please?

Last week, I came late to home, but right in time to tuck my daughter in. So I went to her room and lied down next to her only to hear her shriek "Go away, you are crushing my friend”. I quickly got up and said, “I don’t see any toys”. “Not toy. It's my friend”. “Honey. Where is your friend?” silence “What is her name?” no response. “Is it Kaya?”. “I like that name Daddy”. And she turns and asks “Did you like it too?” Unlike before, this time I had no escape, I had only one option – to embrace my Phobia.  So, my dear Toastmasters and guests, I am not sure she is here, but if she is, I present you “Kaya”.

Flight of Fury

I came back from vacation two weeks ago. Two weeks is what it took me to come back to normal after the traumatic flight travel. You know what is bad about flying in economy class? Its everything. But It is super bad if you are sitting next to those young parents with kids who look like they are in constant battle throughout the flight trying to calm their kids, cleaning their mess while they themselves are covered in vomit. But the worst part is when you are one of such parent. So two weeks back I was in that worst position, as I flew with my twins to Sydney.

To avoid flying with kids I proposed alternatives to my wife. Like for example I upgrade to business class and the rest come in economy, or probably sailing, or to leave them in India till they can travel on their own. Yes, my wife thought the same that I was joking. So I did not tell her my other idea of dressing them in dog costume. I asked my doctor brother in law to give some sleep inducing medicine to kids, so that I survive the flight. He was against it, because as per him, the kids may sleep during the flight but will get very cranky later. So, I asked him to give those to me, so that I get knocked out while they are cranky in the flight. Now my wife was against it.

Finally the day I dreaded arrived, we loaded all our suitcases in one car and sat with kids in another car. Now why one car dedicated only for the luggage, is because we got 40 plus 7 kilos for each of us including kids. We were 5 of us were allowed to carry quarter of a ton.  So to make the most of it, my wife packed everything her eyes laid on. At least this is one relief of not flying in first class, because my wife would have packed half of the city in to it.

After checking in a ton of suitcases and dancing in front of the security, we sat in the flight only to realise that one of the cabin luggage was checked in by mistake. The one that had diapers, tissues and extra pair of kids cloths. Immediately we started doing what any other sensible couple does, we each try to prove that the other did this. Naturally, as a woman, my wife has photographic memory, so the argument was settled in less than a minute and everyone in the flight hated me for what I have done.

As if my twins understood that we don’t have extra nappies and pair of cloths, they immediately got on their mission to drink and eat more than they do when they were on land. We had 5 hours ahead of us for a change over, and two rapidly filling diapers. Thankfully the race between the flight and diapers was a tie. We managed to buy some diapers and essentials in Singapore, before boarding the next flight to Sydney. But the problems were far from over. My son has motion sickness, so he kept throwing up on me once in a while. Apparently that’s what the kids do, they vomit everywhere except in the air sickness bag that is provided. Both kids got restless in the flight, despite the entertainment we provided and they did not let us sleep throughout the night. The nine hours seemed to have taken forever, as if I was stuck in a ground hog day.

When we landed in Sydney, we all were looking like zombies. We just wanted to reach home, get freshen up and sleep for sometime. But as the luck would have it, we spent an hour in the airport waiting for a suit case that was left over by the airlines in Singapore. We had practically ticked everything in the immigration checklist like dairy, wood, medicines, illegal weaponaries everything that is there in the list. But when the security officer asked me to open a suitcase, my son weakly steps ahead and starts throwing up. The security officer looked at us and says, okay just take your bags and leave. That moment, I was so proud of my son, I thought if only I was a drug dealer this act could have been so justified.

We arrived home bit later than expected, but it took more than 2 weeks for us to get back to normal. 

A Long List of Shortcomings

Below is the speech that won me first place in Humorous speech contest in Toast Masters.

A Wise man once said “If you want to know your flaws / shortcomings, point one of your wife’s flaws and she will point ten of yours”. But I say why to risk pointing even one? My dear Toast Masters, Contest chair and guests, last night I asked my wife to point out my shortcomings. I know it sounds like turkeys begging for Christmas. But I had my reasons to do that. I was working on a “self-deprecating humour speech” and as a first step I wanted to list my short comings. I sat for hours, but I could not think of a single one. I was both happy and sad at the same time. Then I thought, who could be better than my wife to tell my own shortcomings. So last night, after putting the kids to bed, I asked my wife if she can help me with this. She got so thrilled. She got so excited, that I got terrified. It was a long night for me. The astonishing part was the fluency on the subject, that she took only one break, to brush her teeth in the morning. She just wanted to help, that’s it. She also wrote a speech reference for me.(Prop: Releasing a lengthy roll of paper with lot of words in it).

 It is quite exhaustive with date and time stamp and dates back to our first meeting. I will give you few examples

• Cant remember things. True, because she gave tonnes of examples for this and I don’t remember any of them.

• Cant find things…No….This list is full of husband stereotypes like cant’ remember, can’t find things, doesn’t do dishes, doesn’t’ take care of dogs…wait that’s not true… coz I love dogs….and…. we don’t have dogs!!… Oh sorry…its not dogs its kids. My mistake. Must be true then.

•     Wastes money on unnecessary items. This is about the Google Home I bought home. I was not happy with that either, because every time I ask a question, I get two responses. The second response is always from…any guesses??… from Google Home. I returned to the store and got full refund when I sighted that this box is not as accurate as my wife. Don’t believe me!! Sunday morning, wanted to play cricket, I asked “Okay google, what is the weather like”.

•    “Doesn’t know how to argue”. Argument is a multi-dexterous skill that involves recollecting past events and linking to the present events and building a case on it while one is angry. Unfortunately evolution skipped this skill for men. So I don’t want to argue, I don’t remember when I have won. The last time I won an argument, I was made to believe that I had won an argument. Honestly,I believe we men have more odds of winning a lottery than winning an argument.

So let me not follow the script and share with you just two of the interesting shortcomings.

1)      Why do you care, you are not going to go out!

2)      28 degrees, sunny, Parramatta

But that morning was wet. For me, because I spent scrubbing the bathroom tiles.

Anyways, in the morning, I woke up late with a slight headache. Not sure why. I took a quick shower, and when I came out, I was surprised. Because my clothes were pressed, lunch was packed and the kids were looking clean. The best part was my was all cheerful and happy. That made me realised, it is very easy to make your woman happy. You just have to listen, pay attention… sometimes. Sometimes she might just have a point.

Review of Novel "Delhi" by Kushwant Singh

Delhi by Khushwanth Singh is fanciful, chimera and extravagantly explicit and yes of course, in between the writer also did his best to squeeze in some historical events. But overall the novel gives you a feeling of watching a late night show on History channel (if any) that shows sexual escapades of Royal breed. If you are haunted by such fascinations then this might be the book you want to read. It's a tour of sex and history and between these you will be forced to read some of the sexual escapades of the writer (as he says) with a teenage American, aged Europeans and not to forget his horrific hijda whore with the beautiful name "Bhagmati".

Apart from desultory vacillation that he makes to embarrass you with his irritable details of his own biology, gastronomy and his descriptions of his bhagmati. Delhi is a fine novel. He weaves a magical screen to show you the magnum opus history of Delhi. In front of you the empires raise and fall. The Mughals take over Hindus, Sikhs takeover the Mughals, British take over every one and finally the Lawyer Politician take over India. He also cleverly uses the lives of common people like a poet, soldier, a builder to narrate the historical incidents. The narration entirely being in first person, the characters come alive in front of the reader to tell their stories.

It's a page turner that gives the grotesque view of the aggrandizement and plunder done to Delhi by Mughals, Nadir Shah, and partly by British who attacked Red Fort on 1857. Also showcases the thinking of quintessential Indians varied across different time periods. Overall it's more of an adult novel that mixes sex and history and presents you in not so elegant manner.

Kites- All Style and No Substance

I would not think twice to rate 1/2 out of 5 points for this movie even if it had hit the screens a decade or two back. This is no different from other recent bollywood movies which followed the mantra of "All style and no substance". Since QAQT and probably even before that, audience have been constantly bombarded with boringly clichéd concept of a couple eloping and the goons chasing them down to death. The only difference that the director has to offer is that this happens in the backdrop of Mexico.

Hrithik should grow out of those biscuit ads. He has nothing new to offer in this movie except his toned body and few super fluid dance steps that he had done for the ads Sony Ericson, Coke and Hide & Seek. Even if Hrithik was half cautious about his story selection as he was for his ads, he would not have chosen to do this. In this movie he is a Dance instructor, he also has a part time profession of marrying girls to get them into LA on a false Visa. This is how he meets Barbara Mori. Her introduction is good and different. She looks beautiful, but did less of skin show than our heroines. The story is built around the name "Kites". H (Who is Mr J in this movie) and B.Mori meet and separate like two kites in the sky. Situations pull them together so close as if they would never be separated but in the next moment they go so far as if they were never meant to meet.

About other actors, every one is wasted except the villain. He has got strong negative shades which is a plus point. I don’t see a reason why Kangana had accepted this role; even an item song could have done more justification than playing Hrithik's girl friend.

Scripted by as many as four writers (probably the dullest and the most vacant minds one can find), kites is woefully predictable despite its jumbled screen play. The dialogues are written in a sophomoric mood (Even though there are hardly any). For an instance Hrithik convinces Barbara to come with her by saying "I have a dream, you have a dream, we have a bigger dream”. I don’t think any one even in their normal thinking condition would go for such pick up lines in reality. Bullet wounded Barbara says "I wonth die, I wanth Babies". And the moment you might feel like falling off the seat due to sleep is the scenes when the chemistry between H and M is established by sharing each other their ridiculously over-sentimental back-stories about dead parents.

The fight sequences are sordid but okay and all the blasting of cars like toys are unnecessary and doesn't add value. The climax fight has been reduced to a Sten gun firing and yes your guess is right Kangana suddenly pops up with a gun but still does not shoot H for ditching her. Hritihik does all hi-fi stunts to reach the villain only to know the spot where the heroin has committed suicide so that he can also go and jump off the cliff. I was also looking for a nearest cliff to jump off after seeing this movie, but wasn't lucky enough. I don’t recommend this movie. It bores you to death. Every scene of the movie is a flop show. Movies like this are national waste and this movie is for universal audience so should we coin a new term “Multi national waste”???

I spent 200 bucks in Innovative Multiplex of Marath halli only to get a feeling of watching a movie in a laptop. I dont know why is it named Gold class, the sound effects is sad, 30 mm screen look and the seats are positioned far from the screen. So I vote for NO GO for the movie as well as for the theatre

A Review on MTR

Heaven is best described as a rendezvous of hunger with a tasteful cuisine. It happened on a Wednesday afternoon I was near the Lal bagh gate amidst the roaring Bangalore’s traffic, under the scorching sun. Hunger and thirst were at their high. All I needed was a quite place to sit and fuel myself with some carbohydrates. As my eyes scanned for a hotel, they fell on a small red hoarding amidst the loud and boastful ones as if it was shying away from the rest. The abbreviated name on the hoarding said “MTR”.

“Mavalli Tiffin Room” has its roots dated back to 1924 creating a legacy out of its carte du jour. MTR takes the credit of inventing “Rava Idly” in the troubled times of Second World War, when there was a shortage of rice - the main ingredient of Idly. The chefs experimented with “Suzi Rava” and rest is history. I had heard the popularity of MTR for its mouth watering dishes but never experienced it. I stepped in to the building; the insides reflected the architecture of early 1900s. Rows of black and white photographs of what looked like freedom fighters and thinkers discussing over coffee at MTR decorated the right side wall. Satisfied with the hotel’s legacy, I purchased the lunch coupon (which was the only available option at noon) and went upstairs. The dining hall in the upstairs was dimly lit and was already crowded with Indian families and few foreign tourists. The waiters wore traditional attire of Karnataka Brahmins a white dhoti and no shoes.

I settled down in a table and was served a chilled grape juice in a silver cup. The sweet and sour drink did more than just quenching my thirst; it woke up the connoisseur in me. As I finished the drink, the glass was taken back may be to indicate the authenticity of the metal. After that, the South Indian concoctions topped with calorie-intensive ghee continuously replenished my plate. The Dosa was excellent and with each bite it released a mix of ghee, coconut chutney and sagu teasing my taste buds. The Payasam was good, the curry tastier and the huli with rice reminded me of my granny’s cooking. The rasam was simply outstanding. By the time curd rice arrived I was awfully loaded but still adjusted my stomach to get a taste of it. The dessert fruit salad topped with vanilla ice cream was as usual good.

While exiting the restaurant, I got a glimpse of the kitchen which was clean and hygiene and reminded me of the cooking methods followed in Brahmin marriages of South India. It goes without saying that MTR can be loved if you are a veg lover. This place is a perfect treat for food evangelists, and gives you an authentic Bangalore eating experience. However the Sunday mornings are chaotic where scores of locals (especially morning walkers of Lal Bagh) rush into savor the Tiffin items. The brand though stands for its taste, tradition and quality, but is often rebuked for long waiting times and notoriously surly waiters.

Battle of Sexes Part-2

I would have done with my Analysis (of part -1) by now, if only the lady respondents of my survey returned with their answers. The questionnaire had only one open ended question which was "What woman really wants?” After a month's time, I called up every one and I got just one answer:
"We are not done yet, need more time".

Anyways, to make the analysis comprehensive and convincing, I wish to take some more time and ponder over few more incidents that have left me as baffled as I was with the previous one.

"You are such a narrow minded male chauvinist" she said and her nose flared in anger. "I am in no mood to argue" I said. "Okay then convince me". Without waiting for my response she went and slumped in the chair near the swimming pool.

She was my colleague in my first company ; a manufacturing firm. We were in a resort and along with us were 40 other employees carrying various ranks. (The team outing would have been more fun without the team building games that were forced on us by HR). I walked to her and took the seat next to her.

she:I never tasted whiskey and this is the time (suppressing the anger)
Me: Believe me. The cheaper one doesn’t taste better and the better one doesn’t have any taste.

She: (Coying)But I want to know what happens after taking a glass or two.
Me: You can watch me and I will not charge you for that.

She: (Smiling) Very funny. But what's your problem if I want to drink.
Me: (Long lecture) I never said I have a problem. But what I am asking you to think twice before you do that. We work in a manufacturing firm. Those guys you see (pointing the guys dancing next to the pool). They are from different culture, education and background. You think they are broadminded enough to accept a girl who tastes liquor? They will judge you wrong and what happens here doesn’t just stay here. We will be with this people every day. So better think before you act.

The party took a wild swing as I was talking; some one dragged me to the dance floor. The next day morning, a phone call woke me up and started my lazy Sunday.

She: (An affectionate tone)Vardhan
Me: Hey Tell me. How come you called me?

She: I am very grateful to God. Yesterday, you saved me from the impulsive feeling.
Me: Why did the God take all the credits then?

She: What?
Me: Never mind. It's a tough joke.

She: (Breathing heavily) You don’t understand Vardhan. I am so glad to have a friend like you. I am happy that I asked you to accompany. If it were others....(I cut her words)
Me: Never mind yaar. Anyways if you still want to try out whiskey, we two can go out some time.

She: (Dead silence)
Me: Hello? Hello? You there?

She: (After a long pause)...Yes
Me: Oh.... (Smiling) I thought the line got cut.

She: No (Serious tone). But now it will. Don’t ever talk to me again. (Thumping of the receiver)

That's it I never did get a chance to know what went wrong between us as she was in a different (Manufacturing) plant. Down the line, both of us took different paths. One of us is more successful, happy and settled in America and another is not so lucky. To be clear, she married some software geek and got settled in US.

Coming back to the point.My offer was as genuine and pure as Vat 69. I never had a different thought process running in my head while I spoke to her. If only my mind could process dual things at a time, I would not end up being a sole reader of my blog. Anyways this discussion also will share few lines in the analysis part that comes after I completely understand about the psychology of women. I can bet a fortune that the analysis might not come to the light in my life span. So allow me to come up with one more post to gain a better hold on the subject (No pun intended).

The New (Year) Resolution

The funny aspect of New Year resolution is that, many of us try a work around to break the commitment. Thus making them sound more like a financial instruments that comes with terms & conditions. For an instance my colleague took a resolution to conserve water; he’s been living on deodorants. My friend resolved that she will stop gossiping about others, ever since she stopped talking to me. My Colleague, who stopped buying cigarettes, is getting it from others. I, like my friends and colleagues was never a good keeper of my resolutions. It’s quite evident from my history of resolutions.

Year 2000: To be more popular. (I made it to attendance shortage list)
Year 2001: Not to do last minute studies before exam. (I did not do, I flunked in two)
Year 2002: No more additions to "Crush List". (....Wait who is that?)
Year 2003: Impress my boss. (I asked her out for a date. I am looking for a new job now.)
Year 2004: Achieve a six figure paycheck like my friends did. (I am converting my salary to Zimbabwean dollars before telling anyone)
Year 2005: Spend less time on TV. (I am using my laptop to watch movies)
Year 2006: I no longer will doze off in the class. (I found a nice corner to sleep)
Year 2007: I will to go to Gym at least 5 days a week; (I am driving past it now)
Year 2008: This year I‘ve made good number of resolutions. (Once I remember all of them I will start implementing one by one)
Year 2009: Recollect the past resolutions and line them up for future in the order of FIFO (Including this resolution)

In the Year 2010, I resolved not to procrastinate more, but I think I will wait till next year. But after all, why do we wait all the year to make a commitment on 31st night! Well, blame it on Romans who started this ritual. Romans named the month "January" after their mystical king Janus who is depicted with two faces .Thus he looks forward (towards new year) and backward (towards old year) at the same time. Symbolizing that the mistakes in the old year are not forgotten in the New Year.

With due respect to the King Janus, I would say any day is a good day to start afresh. The motive behind taking a resolution is to make the actual life style more like an ideal life style. The ideal life style is all about dreams like making workout as a part of the routine or doing charity like working on neglected children(probably of their own) or giving up some dangerous addictions (like TV serials or reality shows) etc. But this requires a strong will, an unwavering determination and an ability to stand against all odds to keep the commitments. The most arduous effect involves in fighting the inner demons, which in my case I end up taking their side.


I will be branded as double faced (not like king Janus) if I try to preach the ways to keep the resolution, but that's how I end this blog. Make one resolution at a time, which is practical, and attainable. Make it more interesting by adding few incentives. Do not scrap the resolution because of slip ups. As I said controlling the inner urge and keep the consistency in the commitment is the key success to win. So go ahead and start afresh as someone rightly said “Every day is a new day for the rest of our life”

To be like Arnold

It’s me against the whole world (and some times my selves). No it’s not about winning a girl I love or standing up against an injustice. It’s about a simple stupid motive of using my annual membership of gym at least once in a month. I remember the day when I first paid the hefty amount for the annual membership to the Gym. I came out grinning, dreaming of bringing out those six pack abs duck under my tummy. It remained as a dream that never came true due to my work schedule, demanding client, traffic, rain, late night movies/parties…...the list goes unending.

Working out has always been my passion. Even when I could not go to gym, I used to spend my energy reading all those links that Google showed up when I typed “How to become like Arnold”. Though I could not relate the articles to body building as they were saying like “Stay away from Republicans” or “Marry the lady who has got good political connections” etc, still I tried to follow. Over the time I realized that the idea of working out was not actually working out. So I decided to start jogging after checking out the greenery in the nearest park. It was a good success for a while; till my motivation levels were forcefully dragged down by the presence of those aged fathers of the girls who I was keeping track off.

"Yoga" is the last thing that I can miss after my MBA in SDM, where it was mandatory. I dont think that simple and slow motions can make best use of the levels of testosterne that my body generates.

After failing to commit to jog or gym, the last thing that remained which could fulfill my desire of reducing tummy was to DIET. But I don’t believe in dieting, it’s not meant for me. I have seen my brother suffering in hunger. Ofcourse, he had a reason. He was getting married. He had to survive a typical Tamil Brahman marriage, where the groom sits half naked, wearing transparent dhoti sweating in front of the holy fire, managing his breath to hide his tummy from his future wife as well as from her cute friends. A thought like this was enough to triggere a fire in his belly,so one fine day he decided to burn out the fat in his belly. He enrolled to the near by Gym, obtained a diet chart for one week, that contained those items which I might not consider eating even if I am shipwrecked in a deserted island.

He managed one week following rigorous diet and regular workout . The effects of diet were quite evident in him (No he didn’t get six packs). His otherwise plump cheeks were showing off the bones underneath. His eyes went shallow and he looked weak, but the needle in the weighing machine remained steady like rock. My brother, like a saint seeking out for the truth of life, spent rest of his evening seeking out for the accurate weight, rejecting any reading of the m/c that moved the needle close to his little finger of his right foot. Being frustrated with the result, next week he did more than justice to the quantity of food that he had missed. He had enough meal to shoot up the inflation by two points.

The diet is some thing that I can think of following between breakfast and lunch. Being a connoisseur, food happens to be my first love, my passion, and my only addiction.I dont understand how can eating 200 gms of chocolate results in 2kg of weight gain.

Having failed to stick to any of the method that helps me to build a six pack, my ambition to become like Arnold seems to have more possibility if I decide to enter in to politics than entering in Gym. Oflate I have been trying out another idea that makes me look slim which is hanging out with fat people (it's working :). Any other path breaking idea (s) that helps to chisel my fat and brings out the six packs is always welcome.

Battle of the Sexes

Following conversation reflects the thought process of a quintessential Indian Boy and Girl (*Conditions Apply*). In an effort to keep the blog short, and to motivate you to go through this, I have decided to limit this post only to the discussion. The Analysis of this discussion will be in my next post. Enjoy reading this post.

It was the break time and she grabbed my hand. "I need to talk to you" she said in a serious tone. "Sorry...I don't have time for that" I replied

"I’ve brought Veg Pulav" she tapped the tiffin box in side her bag giving a winning smile.

I was in sixth semester of my Engineering. She was my class mate, and my room mate's girl friend. A Girl Friend here means the one who can be a potential threat of becoming a lover.

"You think you can buy my time with a box of Pulav?" I asked her annoyingly.

After 5 mins I found myself sitting in front of her, eating the Veg Pulav made by her and listening to her latest fight she had with my room mate. After 15 mins of narration, I was given a chance to speak, rather I assumed that I was given a chance.

She: Is he gone mad?
Me: Was fine till he met you.

She: (Not caring my comment) He fights over any thing and every thing Vardhan. Previously he used to call me to flirt and now he phones me to fight. Why is he doing that? (She bangs her fist on table)
Me: (I paid a tense attention to her giving a puzzled expression, gripping the spoon in my mouth).

She: You know, yesterday I waited for you two to join me for lunch. But you guys went out and I did not even had my lunch yesterday (She put up a face of concatenated and complex expressions)
Me: May I correct. You waited for him, not me and he wanted to have non veg so he went to local Andhra mess. By the way did you tell him that you were waiting for him?

She: NO. I did not, but he should understand it.
Me: Oh.... (Eating Pulav) that bugger did not tell me that he knows mind reading.

She: (With a menacing look) You don't understand this Vardhan. Have you noticed that, he is drinking lot these days and not to mention the number of cigarettes he burns. Can’t' you tell him to stop. I mean he is not bothered about his health...

Me: Why are you telling this to me? You can ask him right?
She: You think he listens to me? Last week, almost every day he boozed and picked up fight with me. I could not even eat or sleep properly because of him. Why do I need to go through it because of this drunkard, I don’t understand (She looks worried)

Me: Forget that drunkard…… marry me
She: What???!!!!
Me: Yes. I can compromise on lot of things in my life to get this Pulav daily.
She: (Smiling) Thanks for the comment, but no thanks for the offer. (Expression changed to anger) And remember never call him a “Drunkard” again.

Me: But, you just said that!!!! (Guiltlessly stuffing my mouth with more Pulav)
She: I can but not you.... Pchhh....You don’t understand Vardhan

Me: Look. Every one has a freedom to make one's choices. It's his choice to drink and smoke and I don’t believe in advising an adult. Moreover, he was the same drunkard and chain smoker before you became close to him. Which means you accepted him as a package with good and bad qualities. Now you are forgetting all the good part and pestering about the bad. Expect only those that can be expected in a relation and don’t try to show the ownership.

She: You are so mean!!!! I am telling you my problems and you support him and lecture me on how to live my life? You don’t understand this Vardhan till you are in Love.

Me: Who said I was never in love. I have innumerable one sided love stories and of them only one girl had a drinking problem, but I accepted that as a package and this weekend we will be going to a pub.Anyway I am done (Slid the empty box towards her).

She: Wait....I need to talk.
Me: (Looking impatiently) Well....hmmm

She: Fine.... (With an annoyed look she takes out another box from bag and thrashes in my hand) curd rice (in a curt voice) and promise me you don’t make fun out of this serious situation.

She: Why does he roam with that witch Neha. You know yesterday my room mate saw these two going on bike.
Me: For obvious reasons, she is hot. Even I want to roam with her. (I started concentrating on curd rice)

She: You don't understand how it feels like and please stop cracking jokes on every thing.(Angry look)What was so important that he had to escort her to a medical store?

Me: You have the answer, its for medicines. By the way can I make one thing clear "Do you love him? or Did he say that he loves you?"(Actually they are one step above to being close friends and one step below to being lovers; it's like being in an In transit phase of a relation.....)

She: You don’t understand Vardhan
Me: (Savoring curd rice with pickle)

She: You know, on my last birth day he had promised that he will not let me shed even a drop of tear at any cost. But you don't know how many times I wept because of him.
Me: (Still enjoying curd rice) hmmm.....

She:I still remember (Shedding few tears instantaneously) and now my birth day is tomorrow and (sneezing in her kerchief) he doesn’t even seem to have planned a surprise gift.
Me: (Licking the box)

She: He doesn’t spend time with me as he was doing before. He treats me like every one else. I am no more special. Are you listening???
Me:(Licking the spoon)

She: I hate it when he plays jokes with girls like that. (Giving an intolerable jealous look) He looks like a flirt only
Me: So…you want him to flirt with boys? Turn him to a gay?

She: (Tiered look)Oh….stop your nonsense.
Me: I don’t understand why you are acting as if you got married to him?

She: @%%@##$$....YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND VARDHAN!!! (She storms out after snatching the tiffin box which now looked spotlessly clean )

“What happened” my room mate entered the scene. “You need to promise one thing” I asked him.

“What?”

“Keep fighting with her at least once in a week, so that I can get to taste the Pulav often.” We broke in to laughter unaware of her reentry.

Supply Chain Demystified Part-1

Life has taught me more about Pricing and Supply Chain Management than did my MBA. It has taught me to buy the goods at the point where they are produced. Because more number of partners (vendors/goods suppliers) in supply chain increases the cost of the product. That’s the reason why I prefer to buy my clothes from a Factory outlet or get them tailored. Same applies to Milk also (no naughty thoughts please). I go to the direct dealer near my house, so that I can buy them at MRP, where as door step delivery costs an additional 50 Paisa/ Packet. Today as usual I reached the shop early in the morning escaping the ferocious street dogs. A man buying a bagful of packets smiled at me. I thought I should say some thing. So I said to him smiling “Seems like you have a big family!”.” No” he said amused “I run a canteen here”. The next day I saw a lady buying packets in bulk. I could not resist asking her so I asked “Seems like you run a canteen!”. “No...” She retarded saying “It’s for my family”.

Now, coming back to the point, managing the Supply Chain is not an easy task. Not that I could not score an “A” in SCM, but really it is tough. As the production needs to be maintained in sync with the fluctuating demand without having a higher lead time of delivery. SCM encompasses all the activities of Procurement, Production and Marketing divisions. A scope of an ideal supply chain is considered from your vendor’s vendor to customer’s customer (in a typical B2B scenario). So when you have so many organizational entities, intermediaries and partners, it’s sure that whatever efforts you put to match the demand with the supply, you will still be in a mess.

Production is a controllable factor but not the demand. There are lots of factors that cause huge fluctuations to Demand. The major factor is “Economy”, the leading indicator of the (demand) fluctuation. Let me give an example that can etch in your mind. Recently Pfizer had announced one year free supply of medicines to jobless youth in the country. Needless to say that Viagra was the most sought after than any other drug. Now put yourselves in the shoes of Supply Chain Manager of a Firm that manufactures Latex. Will you be able to react to the increased demand for condoms? First of all will you be able to understand the fact that it affects your demand? Since Pfizer is in a totally different sector. There are certain Freak economic Theories like “Lipstick Theory” and Condom Economy (No, I am not talking about the size of economy pack), which says that whenever there is a dip in economy, there will be a raise in the sale of products like lipsticks and condoms. I will leave the causes of this phenomenon to your guessing. But now you know what goes up when every thing goes down.

To summarize this post, the first rule of attaining Supply Chain Efficiency is to have a simple and short SC. This makes the supply chain more resilient and cost effective. The other factors that affect SC efficiency are Infra Structure, Information Technology, Climate and other miscellaneous factors like Forecast errors, vendor delays etc. As this is a vast subject, we can discuss this by parts. So let’s take a break here.

No country for Plastic Money

It was on one fateful Sunday morning that I got a call from my friend. He offered me a free lunch if I can drag my lazy bum (Not literally) till his office in ITPL. It's not that he was my close friend nor I had anything to do for the rest of the day except to be a couch potato, but it was the treat that tempted me. I skipped my breakfast in order to take full advantage of the offer. At 12 noon, I grabbed my bike keys and started off.

To my horror, the fuel in my bike dried out and so was the petrol bunks due to strike in B’lore. Cursing my luck, I came back home tired and thirsty after dragging my heavy bike under hot sun .The Aqua Guard was useless without power. With little energy that was left, I checked my wallet and rummaged my room. After 5 mins I started my journey to ITPL with a book full of Meal Vouchers, two Debit Cards and a Credit card and few coins.

The bus dropped me to the nearest ATM that was out of condition. With a brave heart, and 2 one rupee coins, I boarded a bus, only to learn the words that one can use to swear by in Kannada, as I was caught traveling without ticket. It was 2 PM and I still wanted to commute by bus(This time with ticket) despite my friend’s plea over phone as the autowalas were over demanding. On some one's advice I started off to the nearest ATM which was 2 kms far, cursing the dusty roads and the traffic. As my luck would have it, after getting fired under the hot sun, I met an ATM that was already robbed and another one which was in the process. I stood impatiently in the queue and rushed in at my turn. "Sorry the machine is out of Money" the ugly lines flashed on screen.

A good Samaritan there offered me a drop to another place, a remote area where even one manages to get cash from ATM, cannot manage to get a bus. As my mind had already shut downed many of its operations by then, I sat in his bike without giving a second thought. At 2:30 I was standing in a deserted place staring a HDFC ATM that is yet to be launched. By then, my tongue was parched and stomach dried. My cooked up brain had started hallucinating of vultures following behind. The lonely shop nearby, became an oasis to me in that hot and deserted place. To my despair, my choice of food was limited to a five star chocolate and no water or drink. I ate greedily and settled the bill of 10RS chocolate with 50Rs meal vouchers after a lot of convincing.

The 250 calories gave my brain a little energy to think rationally. I accepted my defeat to the situation. I understood that this is not a country where one can roam around happily with bunch of plastic cards .I negotiated an auto for Rs300. On my way I called up my friend and was about to say that I am on my way....and the battery went dead. I fell back on my seat too strained to be panic and closed my eyes.

After 10 mins, I made an effort to cheer seeing my friend talking to the driver. We drove to nearest Restaurant which by 3:30 had closed its service. Dejected, we helped ourselves with a bottle of coke from a bakery nearby. Burdened by the ill adventure, I took the same auto to go back home. The fateful Sunday, I shelled out 600 bucks to stay hungry, weak and frustrated. May be the world is moving with Credit cards and M-Check but India has long way to go to make all the basic services to be technologically accessible.

Money, Market and Male Chauvinism

For those who have not read the first part "This post will make sense only if you have read my previous one ”Ramblings of a Male Chauvinist"" . For those who have already read that, "This post will be equally senselessly satirical as the previous part”.

The last part was written in the bygone period when we the word “Recession” was unheard. The time when companies were unwontedly kind to its employees; Banks were quixotically generous in lending money. The Sensex was zooming past 15K mark & GDP touching 8, my company was in profit and I was in a project. Coming to the dynamics of marriage market, it was the time when most of the young Indian males were aiming to get foreign jobs and young Indian females were aiming to get those Indian males who were settled in foreign jobs. Not to spare those baby boomers who were aiming for Son in laws settled in foreign jobs. So literally the entire educated Indian crowd wanted to dump themselves on the foreign ground, some by means of job and others by means of marriage. To be succinct, software grooms settled in abroad were the most sought after.

The situation which was assumed to be perpetual has turned increasingly turbid and phantasmagorical. Guys who were getting high pay checks (Especially in US) are now jobless and have mortgages to pay. I think the only people who reacted to the situation faster than the Fund Managers are the Girls’ parents. If you take a glance at the part one, I had posted few sample profiles of girls that represented the over all ambition of the population. I did not get a chance to see how the profiles have been modified now. But it might sure look like this.

• Varshini has completed her 10th, has finished her diploma in Classical Dance and is looking forward to settle in US. Brahmin Software boys working in US are preferred. for Brahmin Boys working in positions like IAS, IPS or any other good Govt. jobs can contact us.

• Mythili is studying final year engineering. Interested to settle down in US Green card holders are preferred, H1B might be considered. Software engineers who are not looking for a working girl can please contact, others kindly excuse. She is good at cooking, has also got a degree in classical music. We are looking for a well-settled groom below 32 years and who is working in state or central government. Software Engineers please excuse.

• Roshini is a broad minded girl from an orthodox family. She is was working in US. We are interested for boys who are at a good managerial position in Investment Banking or Software Firms Government Organizations or owning a business inUS. Divorcees are also considered. The girl wants to settle down in US India. We are looking for a well-settled Groom working in State or Central Govt from a good family background. Software Engineers and Investment Bankers please excuse.

The above situation reminds me of my internship, where I’ve sold Unit Linked Insurance Plans (or Equity Linked Saving Schemes) to customers by highlighting their key benefit of “Switch” option. The investor can switch their funds between Equity (Stocks) and Debt (Govt. Bonds and securities) markets depending upon the market condition. I.e. when the investor speculates the market is doing well, he can opt to put his funds in the stocks (Mutual funds) and when he expects the markets to fall, he can switch the funds to safer govt. bonds that give lower but fixed returns. Similarly the Fund managers of Indian marriage market have currently switched their assets to safer grounds (With a possible exclusion of switching after entering into conjugal relationship).

Well coming to the male chauvinistic part that you are wondering about. Hope I have an option to make my life as attractive as a mutual fund. If only I have an option to marry girls from various sectors like Power, Infra Structure, Manufacturing, Technology and Govt (jobs like Banks, lecturers, IAS or IPS (Not IPS…it has high personal risk factor)). So that I can diversify risk and maximize income and can retire early. I will be more assured of wealth if I can also avail the above option for commodities and derivatives.

I guess that any girl reading this blog will sure be running out of all the filthy words she ever knew (Considering the most notorious word has already been placed in the title). So if you are some hardcore Feminist (or can i say Female chauvinist :) )then you need to understand that you are reading through the mind of a so called male chauvinistic guy and as usual the blog is little exaggerated.

For Guys, call it a brunt of life, but the demand and supply has always its say in any market and the marriage market is no exception. Even in moments of the most imminent peril that we are living now, its woman on top. Blame it on the on the baby boomers who are taking this uncouth gambol, but that’s the reality and it needs to be accepted. So gear up for Civil services if possible.

Taken over by Writer’s block

My blog reminds me of life cycle of a product that has bombed in the market. It is going through the phases of Introduction, growth, maturity and decline at a lightning speed. But I am taking stringent steps to keep my blog from slipping to the fourth stage. However the true achievement of holding my blog in the maturity stage is attributed to those forced readers of mine who pick up my every call praying not to become the victims of my doggedness and end up reading and then rating my blog. Well my tele marketing skills proved quite successful resulting at least four comments (Giving 25% of the call success rate) per post appreciating the writer in me. Over the period the call success rate has tremendously increased as my pals started to offer their passwords in order to encourage the self-boasting of writer in me.

Well it’s not just the tele calls or my customer hostages who bargain their passwords with me for their own peaceful living which keeps my blog site active. It’s also my clownishly insensible way of narrating the gloomiest state of the human side that generates certain level of interest (Approximately .01%) in readers . Adding to the existing blogs that has been rated on an average of 8 out of 10 points for being lachrymonious, soporific and depressing, I keep ragging the writer in me to come up with a new idea to ensure some activity in this page. The process of idea generation and dumping my brain waste on this virtual ground was never easy.

The Writer’s Block had taken me over and I find dearth of topics to write on. As the days progressed, the real priorities in my life started showing off their power. My Boss had put me in a Project that demanded lot of reading and attention. My Client, to whom my company had portrayed me as a Super man, had come up with a kind of requirements that can only be met by a Gene in the lamp. I started to work 14X7 to meet the requirements, but still my Client saw a light year distance of gap between his expectations, and my performance. The Superman in me eventually has transformed to a Doberman by the end of the project. Now being on a Bench, I felt a strong motivation to do justice to the blog that I had created long back and was on the verge of forgetting my own blog site address. All my customer hostages had conveniently forgotten the trouble of going through my paradoxical writings. Before my motivation and ambition of writing a blog gets vanished like a vapor in the sun, I vigorously started digging my brain like a hungry dog searching for a bone. I relentlessly searched for the topic on which I can talk tirelessly, effortlessly and last but not the least “senselessly” for hours.

At times little independent threads of ideas ran through the texture of my mind and died away before I actually slaughter them with my pen (Hmmm..Rather with the keyboard).The brainstorming, which was actually confined to my brain, did not give desired results. I did primary and secondary research to come out with a suitable topic. I thought of addressing some burning issues like “political situation in India” or update the blog with recent cricket stories, but again, it would risk the numbers (of Reader Population). Some topics like “Demand Elasticity of Latex”, “Lip stick theorem and it’s relation with recession” etc bombarded my brains, but could not make much of an impact. It was just before I decided to give up the idea of harassing the writer in me, I got a call from Deepu asking about my next blog. Though the call could not reactivate my brain cells , but sure had charged every limb in my body to pull my self together to type some meaning less sentences. Well you might have understood that you have wasted your time reading this post instead of wasting the same in a smoking zone or in a café. What I can promise you is that, in my next post I would put my 100% efforts to make it at least 0.00001% interesting.

Talking Cricket

If you are looking for an expert comment on Don Bradman's bowling skills or Malcom Marshall's batting style (Did I mess up some thing??), then you are reading a wrong post. This post tells about why I hate cricket so much. How this game has been casting it’s evil spell on me over the years.

The story of my impassiveness towards cricket dates back to my childhood when I had no companion left to play any game in the season of cricket, as every kid in my street is glued to the TV and anxiously listening to their jobless uncle’s useless comments on the game. The breaks between the classes were also quite challenging, as my friends use to find me as a major source of entertainment in the cricket season. My classmates surround me during the breaks and use to pose questions like “What is your comments on Japan's unanticipated triumph over Australia”, "Which is the fourth country that has agreed to participate in the forth coming triangular series?" Or "As a captain of the team, which one of these two would you choose to play after winning the toss on a wet pitch". The options were given as Fielding or Bowling. Thanks to the frequent occurrence of these incidents, I was tested positive for "Cricket language deficiency syndrome”.

This CLDC has its own undesirable effects right from my childhood to till date. Despite knowing all the south Indian languages, having CLDC had always put a hold to my extroverted ness. It was in my class 10, when I competed over another kid for the post of class representative. Little did I realize that my class mate’s gyan over cricket was way above my bounds, the election turned out to be a selection. The devil’s stroke was a master success. The disease had started showing the effects from then. The second time when I became the victim was in the GD conducted for a B-school selection. My already meager hope of getting selected went down the drain when I heard the GD topic being announced “Emerging problem in Indian cricket- supporting the captain courageous or player outrageous??”

Amongst Indians, Cricket happens to be a perfect Ice breaker. They talk cricket to initiate or continue a discussion. This always happens with me during my lunch with clients. I suddenly start to concentrate more on my food when the topic switches to cricket. Having been so verbal till then, my clients take my sudden silence as a result of some deep thought process over the subject and would eagerly wait for the expert opinions. Having been exposed to such situations before, I used to save my head by passing some banal comments, until one day when I saw my manager's remark in the performance appraisal as "Need to improve his knowledge on cricket".

It was during some cricket season, when I went for requirement gathering for a project to Dubai, the only place on earth where you find more Mallus than in Kerala. Since the clients were able to manage with my broken Tamil, I was able to build a good rapport with them. My Boss was also quite satisfied for his wise decision of making me the part of his project team.Until one day, it was during the lunch time when I was sharing my table with few top managers from the Client side. I was giving out my expert opinions on the current financial situation in India (Thanks to magazines and the blog (http://www.shyamscolumn.com/), the Big Guns seemed quite impressed with my knowledge. Then it was one of my team members who had trouble digesting this business gyan, broke the conversation by saying "Have you seen yesterday's match?” The one word "Match" to which I could never match my skills with. The one word which effectively nullified all my efforts and my clients were all ears to him.

With in five minutes, every one around me started arguing like old friends, while I was sitting like a dumb fool not knowing what to speak. All the hell broke loose when one of the senior manager asked "So Vardhan, how do you think, the last over was?” Sitting there without participating in the discussion, I could only guess two things: 1) India is playing this match with some country. 2) He is talking about the 49th over. I quickly dug my hand in pocket and said "Sorry I got a call" in an effort to avoid delivering some absurd comment. "Oh please carry on." he said. "Hey did you activate International roaming" asked the guy sitting next to me. "No" I replied casually drawing the cell phone near to me ear. A dead silence was followed my answer. I suddenly understood the level of stupidity I can achieve. I quickly answered with the dumbest smile that I can ever give "Oh!! it's a remainder. I almost forgot that my cell doesn't work here". I turned to the person who asked me the question "Sorry Shiv, you were telling me some thing". He repeated his question, while all others at the table were paying attention to our conversation. "Oh the 49th over" I passed a banal comment "It was exciting”. There was another dead silence; the people were looking at me as if I committed some blasphemy. It seemed eternity, there are at times you feel that the land cracks and you hide yourself inside. I didn’t know where did I go wrong. "Ok" my Client said breaking the deafening silence with a stiff tone "I am done, shall we move?" We all raised and I caught my Boss and asked. "Boss what happened, why are they looking at me like a criminal". "For God-sake Vardhan" My Boss spoke sternly "It was 20-20 match which they were speaking of". "Jesus Christ!!" I said "But where did I go wrong?”

The circumstances like these proved to be altering my career plans, but never the less could force me to know this game. Over the years and in many of the important phases of my life, cricket has been playing its role by casting its dark shadow on my skills. The importance of cricket in India has reached to such an extent that the community might spare you even if you don’t know which the ruling party is, but not if you miss out naming the last coach of the Indian cricket. I fail to understand why is this nation more bothered about Sachin’s batting scores than Sensex up’s and downs? Dhoni’s run rate than India’s GDP growth? Why all the 100 crore plus population concentrates on one game Cricket? Why does a guy like me deserves a comments (with a pitiful looks) like "oh...you don't know cricket! That's so sad"

Well the above questions can never be answered since the majority of the crowd (110 crore population) is mad about a game and thinks I am mad because I am not mad about this game : ).

నా జైలు జీవితం

ఇది నా ఇక్కడ, చెప్పేదే వేదం. ఇది నా కాలేజీ లైఫ్ గురించి. స్టూడెంట్ లైఫ్ ని ఎంజాయ్ చేద్దామని రెండు సంవత్సరాలు ఖైదీ iపోయిన వాడి వ్యథ. నా విషయానికొస్తే నేను ఉత్తముడు, తెలివైన వాడు, స్వతహాగా చమత్కారి ని (నేను ముందే చెప్పాను , నేను చెప్పిందే వేదం అని ). ఈ రెండు సంవత్సరాల జైలు జీవితం నాకొక బావ, మామ, తాత మరియు ఒక పెళ్ళాన్ని ఇచ్చింది. నాకు తెలుసు అన్నీ వదిలేసి మీరు పెళ్ళాం (నేను పదం గురించి చెబుతున్నాను ) మీద ఆసక్తి చూపుతున్నారు అని. నేను కాంపస్ లో అడుగెట్టగానే అప్సరస లాగ కనిపించింది. అంతే ఇక ఎం ఆలోచించకుండా మూడు ముళ్ళు వేసేసి , ఏడడుగులు నడిపించేసి ధర్మపతి ని ఐపోయా నా మనసులో. ఆ అమ్మాయి అసలు అందాని కి అందం, చదువు...ఇక మిగతావెందుకు? అందం చాలదూ ? కానీ కల్లనేవి నాకొక్కడికే ఇచ్చాడా ఆ దేవుడు ? మా కళాశాలలో ఉన్న ప్రతి ఒక్క గొట్టం గాడికి ఇచ్చాడు.

నేను మా ఆవిడ విపరీతంగా ప్రేమించుకుంటాం. నేను తనని, తను ఇంకొకర్ని. తను నాతో మాట్లాడటానికి ఎంతగా సిగ్గు పడుతుందంటే ! మొదటి సారి కలిసినపుడు పక్కనె నిలబడి హాయ్ చెప్పింది తర్వాత సిగ్గుతో ముసి ముసి నవ్వులు నవ్వుతూ బాయ్ చెప్పింది. ఆ "హాయ్" కి "బాయ్" కి మధ్య దూరం రెండు సంవత్సరాలు.

ఇక నాతో ఉన్న హితులు, సన్నిహితులు, ఇక్కడ చెప్పుకో దాగిన వారు నలుగురు. అందులో మొదటి వ్యక్తి మా బావ.
పోకిరి సినిమా రిలీజ్ అవ్వడానికి ముందీ నాకు, మహేష్ బాబు కి ఉన్న (ఒకే) ఒక్క అలవాటు అందర్నీ "అన్నయ్యా" అని పిలవటం. దీనివల్ల నాతో స్నేహం చేసినందుకు పాప ఫలితంగా అందరూ వాడిని "అన్నయ్య" అని పిలవడం మొదలెట్టారు. అమ్మాయిలతో సహా. తరువాత వాడి పోరు పడలేక కష్టపడి అన్నయ్య నుంచి వాడిని "బావ" ను చేశా. ఐనా ఎ మాటకామాట చెప్పుకోవాలి కాని, అన్నయ్య అని పిలిపించులోని పోగొట్టుకొన్నది లేదూ, బావా అని పిలిపించుకొని పెద్దగా పోదిచిన్డీ లేదు.

ఇప్పుడు మనం ఇంకో పాత్ర "బాబు"గురించి చెప్పుకొందాం. ఈయనకీ పేరు మన సిని రంగంలో ఈయన భంధువులు ఉన్నందువల్ల వచ్చింది. సత్బ్రహ్మనుడు , మంచి వాడు (మరి నాతో ఎందుకు చేరాడు!). ఇంకా చెప్పలన్తేయ్ శంకర భరణం సినిమా లో సోమయాజి గారి లాంటి వాడు. ఈయన తన స్వయంకృషి తో (చెప్పులు కుట్టి కాదు, బుక్కులు పట్టి) స్వర్ణ పథకాన్ని పొందాడు (నేనుకూడా (పరుల) స్వయంకృషి తో నా డిగ్రీ పొందాను). ఈయన గారు ఆర్ధిక శాస్త్రం లో అపర మేధావి, మా పంతులు గారికి ఏకలవ్యుడి లాంటి శిష్యుడు.

ఇక ముఖ్యంగా చెప్పుకోవలసిన వాళ్ళు ఇంకా ఇద్దరున్నారు. తెలుగింటి ఆడపడుచులు , కోపం రాని వరకూ మంచి వాళ్లు. నాకు ఎలాంటి సమస్య ఉన్నా వీరిద్దరూ నా పక్కన ఉండటానికి ఆరాట పడతారు. నిజం చెప్పాలంటే ఉబలాట పడతారునేను పడే కష్టాలు చూడటానికి. కానీ చాలా మంచివారు, నన్ను సరైన దారి లో పెట్టటానికి రెండేళ్ళు భగీరథ ప్రయత్నం చేసి ఆసలు వదిలేసారు.

ఈ వ్యాసం పాత్రల పరిచయం కే నిమిత్తం. ఇక అసలు కథ లో అడుగెట్టడం నాకు మూడ్ ని బట్టి నాకు కున్న సమయాన్ని బట్టి ఉంటుంది. అంత దాకా సెలవు.

Future shocks

“Guys let’s call it a toast for the nigger gang” I raised the glass and looked for others to join. “Let’s celebrate this much awaited moment” Senthil said and all raised their glass to begin the party. Despite being close to each other both in terms of distance and to the hearts, we are meeting after a decade. Life has become so busy, despite the solar jets and wind cruisers. It’s year 2025, and we all are able to make it for the alumni meet. We are in our early 40s. It is the age to take a small break from the routine and seriously work out for an eight-pack abs. It's the right age for men to look out for an alternate career and love. All of us looked wise with gray steaks of hair. “The early 40s have brought us more of a manly and matured looks” I turned to Tatri and added, “In some cases the maturity confined only to looks”. Every one laughed while Tatri was busy digging his teeth in the turkey.

We had dropped our kids at an amusement park, wives to beauty saloons and sat in a pub to catch up with old memories and few cold beers. Every one of us is quite settled with high paying jobs that promised frequent trips abroad. Iyyer and Tifosi are running their own businesses profitably. Senthil is working out options on quitting his job and joining Tifosi’s venture. After my blog became popular, I started getting offers to work on the scripts of some sex comedies. Vidhun, Santa and Larry are senior managers in reputed Indian MNCs. Tatri and Sid together are running an advertising firm. Last week their firm was on news for doing some controversial ad on a concept called “Brand slut”.

We talked about our college days, careers and then jumped to family matters. As we started talking about our kids, Senthil said firmly “Let’s not talk about this and spoil the party". “What’s wrong with them man?” I asked abit surprised. “Don’t tell me that every thing is right with your kid!” said Larry. “My Son is ok Larry” I said and turned to all “He is disciplined and well mannered”. “Wow” Senthil said gulping his beer “You know my spoiled brat and Tifosi’s kid are doing all sorts of nonsense at school”. Tifosi added “Last month my Son was dismissed from the school for the third time. Luckily his maths teacher was my ex girl friend so you know I had to manage by…” his lips curved in an effort to hide the smile. “Screw you Tify” said Larry “Don’t put the blame on your kid. It’ you who wanted to make use of the situation”. “Why don’t you kick his butt and put him in the right path Tify?” I asked him ignoring his evil smile. “No. I can’t do that” Tify took a puff and said looking at our puzzled faces “He’s got some videos of me in his 3G phone. So I better listen to him”. Before I could recover from the shock, others started narrating about the troubles they are having with their offspring. Vidhun said, “My Son had organized a beach party and almost got arrested". “My son got suspended from school” Santa added, “His classmate fainted after drinking water from his bottle”. “He drinks raw liquor and sells porn magazines at school”

“My kid is little ahead” Iyyer said “I cut his pocket money and he sold 20% of my company shares to my competitors”. “My Son has become such a drunkard that we had to take him to a therapist” said Tatri. “Is he fine now?” I asked. “Who” asked Tatri “The therapist?”. “No you idiot. I am asking about your Son” I smiled. “He didn't change Man” he said warily. “Then?” I asked confused. “The Therapist” he said giving a pause “Became such a big drunkard that his wife and kids deserted him”. Every one laughed.

Sid and Larry iterated similar kind of stories about their spoilt brats. Every one looked at me to speak about my son. “I guess Vardhan’s Son must be managing quite well,” some one said. “No believe me. My Son is really nice, he is very soft natured" a proud father in me said. "He might score less in studies, but when it comes to character" I said standing "He stands tall". "I have heard enough from you guys” I told firmly “Now you all listen to me. Leave your kids in my home this summer. My son and I will take up the responsibility of putting them on the right track". Every one nodded approving of my suggestion. I called for the bill and sat back.

“Sir” the bar tender said and politely handed the bill. “Rs 1.5 Lakhs” I shouted on him “Are you high on Cocaine?” “Calm down Vardhan” Senthil patted on my shoulder “There are two bills” he separated them. There was one bill for Rs 50, 000, which we anticipated, and another for Rs1, 00, 000. “What the hell is this” I took the other bill and questioned furiously while the others were trying to calm me down. The Manager came running and informed all of us “Sir, this is the bill made by a few kids who claim to be your children”. "Oh my God" Iyyer panicked "It's our kids". “What is this???” I looked at the paper “It's a bill from the striptease club, right?” I questioned seeing the heading of the bill. “Right Sir” he said warily. Of every one, Tifosi looked really worried. “What do you mean right” I shot a warning look “Why the heck have you allowed a group of young kids to get into a strip tease bar?” “Oh no” Tatri held his head “I told that ass to be in the amusement park till I pick him up”. The Manager spoke terrified “Sorry Sir. I was forced to allow as one of the kid was having a licensed revolver”. “Oh my God” shouted Tifosi for being confident on his Son’s capabilities. “Sir I swear to God, I have never seen such an ill tempered kid in my entire life” he stopped to catach a breath and continued“He almost shot our stripper when she refused to….”. “You know that kid’s name?” I asked cutting him. “No Sir” he said, “But the revolver’s license is in the name of his Father”. I looked puzzled, as none of us owned a revolver. "Who is that" I said in a harsh tone. “Sir" he said quickly "It's in the name of Mr.Vardhan”. Suddenly my eyesight blurred and I could hear some one shouting to call 911.

Straight from my Mail Box

MAKING A BABY

There is not one dirty word in it, and it is funny. .... Enjoy reading

The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogatefather to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr.Smith kissed his wife goodbye and said, "Well, I'm off now. The man should be here soon."Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographerhappened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale.
"Good morning, Ma'am", he said, "I've come to..."
"Oh, no need to explain," Mrs. Smith cut in, embarrassed, "I've beenexpecting you.
""Have you really?" said the photographer. "Well, that's good. Did you know babies are my specialty?"
"Well that's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat"
After a moment she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"
"Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor is fun You can really spread out there."
"Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work out for Harry and me!"
"Well, Ma'am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results."
"My, that's a lot!", gasped Mrs. Smith.
"Ma'am, in my line of work a man has to take his time. I'd love to be Inand out in five minutes, but I'm sure you'd be disappointed with that."
"Don't I know it," said Mrs. Smith quietly.
The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of hisbaby pictures.
"This was done on the top of a bus," he said.
"Oh, my God!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, grasping at her throat.
"And these twins turned out exceptionally well - when you consider theirmother was so difficult to work with."
"She was difficult?" asked Mrs. Smith.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to the park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good look"
"Four and five deep?" said Mrs. Smith, her eyes wide with amazement.
"Yes", the photographer replied. "And for more than three hours, too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling - I could hardly concentrate, and when darkness approached I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it all in."
Mrs. Smith leaned forward. "Do you mean they actually chewed on your,uh...equipment?"
"It's true, Ma'am, yes.. Well, if you're ready, I'll set-up my tripod and we can get to work right away.
" Tripod?"
"Oh yes, Ma'am. I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big to be held in the hand very long. "

Mrs. Smith fainted!!

Straight from my Mail Box

The Logic
Zail singh decided to write the MBA exam. He could understand everything except for the LOGIC part. One day when he was reading, Rajiv came home.

Rajiv: Zail singh ji How is your MBA preparation?
Zail Singh: Every thing is fine, but I could not understand Logic.
Rajiv: Logic is very easy.Zailsingh: Can you give me an example, so that I can understand.Rajiv: OK. Do you have fish pot in your house?
Zail: YES.
Rajiv: Logically, there will be water in it.
Zail: YES.
Rajiv: Logically, there will be fish in it.
Zail: YES.
Rajiv: Logically, someone will be feeding the fish.
Zail: YES.
Rajiv: I take a guess that your wife will be feeding the fish.
Zail: YES.
Rajiv: so, logically, your are married.
Zail: YES.
Rajiv: So, that means U are a heterosexual.
Zailsingh was very glad and he understood logic. Next day he sees Butasingh and he was also preparing for MBA.
Zail: How is your MBA preparation?
Buta: Everything is fine except for the logic.
Zail: Oh, logic is easy.
Buta: Please, give me an example.
Zail: Do you have a fish pot in your house?
Buta: NO, I don't.
Zail: Saala HOMO!!!

Realty Bites

Here I come, unleashing the devil in me, vandalizing your life styles, dismantling your dreams, nudging you off from your career ladder. Here I come to spell dooms day for you, to make you swirl aimlessly in the eye of a financial storm.

Well don’t mistake me to be some kind of evil incarnation (Even though some people think I am), No I am just a stupid common man (heard this line some where? I wrote the dialogues for that movie). Yes I am just a stupid common man who is going to play a part in the Realty bubble burst (Indian Version). Yes I will be the one to trigger an another wave of the financial tsunami, battering the very foundation of the financial institutions, capsizing the so called Fortune 500 by making them to file chapter 11 over night, and forcing them to fire thousands of top earning wage workers…oops…I meant “Professionals” (includes me) . But why am I going to do this and how? Go on and read ahead as you have already wasted half of your idle time at office, so why to stop?
These days my Mom has a new problem with me (Apart from finding fault in her culinary skills, too many outings with friends etc). She wants me to settle down in the city by owning an independent house. Just a simple need of having a home, is actually made much simpler by a powerful financial tool called “Home Loan”. Apparently this has become her weapon to win over my every argument.

This is a sample of our every day conversation. When I start getting ready to office thinking that I am not going to get fired the same day, my Mom initiates the discussion
Mom: You know! I met one of my old student who is a real estate agent. She promised me a good site. Shall we go this weekend to see all the sites? She says handing over the cell phone and wallet.)
I: (Tying shoe laces) Mom I have to meet my friends. It’s been long time since I…. Mom: (Cutting my words) You have two days holiday, why don’t you try to spare some time out of these.
I: Mom it’s not just about sparing time, it’s about spending money. In this current (market) situation, it’s not good to go for a Home loan. If I loose the job how am I going it to repay? (Yeah I can lie to this extent to win the argument)
Mom: Shut up. You should not talk bad. God forbid. It will never happen to you. (She smears the sacred powder across my forehead and before it starts all over again, I run out saying “Time up” J ).

Yesterday I used the idea that Vijay gave me. When my Mom brought this subject again, I asked “Mom what was your age when u started earning?” “I was just 20 when I started earning” She expressed with a pride in her eyes. “OK” I said “and at what age did you start building the house?” She thought a sec and said “I was 47 when I started the home. I took lot of trouble to build that house”. “Fine” I said and got up “So you took solid 27 years from the first day of the job to build a house for 5 lakhs. While you want me take a home loan of 27 lakhs and start off living a life of stinginess right from my 27th year. How fair you think it is?” .She did not have an answer at that time but Moms never listen. She says that instead of spending 10-12K on rent, why don’t you build a home and pay the EMI of same amount or little more. She has her own good reasons for having an own house but I have only one reason not to go for it. It’s Money. I am sure I don’t want to be a home loan defaulter and pull down the entire economy with me.

I guess you might have understood, it’s not my sole intention to create another financial Tsunami, I am just a tool. In a city like Bangalore, to have a roof on your head will actually cost a fortune. This is the second stage of the realty bubble burst. The realtors have bought the lands at higher rate and want to sell it much higher to make the profits . But to buy one piece of land for a guy like me who is just pissing around the poverty line is a distinct reality. So to avoid being a home loan defaulter and drag down the market, I am left with no option except marrying a daughter of a Real estate agent or some lady recovery agent from ICICICICICIC (plz truncate few extra ICs for correction).