Saturday, April 26, 2008

life...redux!


[everyone has a george carlin moment in their life....everyone. i detail mine...]

most unfair thing in life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A death! What's that, A Bonus?! I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way. Then you go live in an old age home. You get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension, then, when you start work, you get a gold watch on your first day. You work forty years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You drink alcohol, you party, and you get ready for High School. You go to primary school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back, you spend your last months floating with luxuries like central heating, spa, room service on tap, then you finish off as an orgasm!! Amen.

revamp

the last post and the revamp and upload of the new theme took the last vestiges of my energy...
just to say that the blog was up for a new look....

hope you liked it as much as i enjoyed making it..

cheers,

harish

Friday, April 25, 2008

the drifter chronicles - episode 1 - the gilt attack

[The inspiration for this post came from two places. Me inadvertently stumbling on the ever funny SImpu Singh clips on You Tube. It used to feature the simple school teacher Simpu Singh Sodhi and his antics. The phonetically challenged guy had his way of shouting “Pankazzzzzz” to my eternal amusement. I still roll on the floor laughing watching them and find it more amusing the one track demented antics of Lola Kutty fare that they dish out in Channel [V]. Believe me, they have stretched the “zimbly” and “temble” more than a stressed mallu’s lungi!

[If you don’t remember any of the Simpu clips refresh your memory here]

Anyway, if you had noticed closely, you would realize that the school that featured as Simpu’s haunt was Kendriya Vidyalaya, my alma mater! Indeed, in this clip, they actually have the school song featuring in it. The translation goes like this “India’s golden honor will be lifted up further by us KVians…” I remember hearing this bleated out by the school choir while tasting my first cigarette and feeling a (slight) pang of guilt.

And the second inspiration was from Pavi, who would never say die till I became a regular blogger, as regular as her. So I dedicate this to you Pavi!

We learn the lessons late in life that nostalgia is woken up more by the dulcet tones of mundane stuff we did back more than the blaring beats of all the supposedly awesome stuff we did. Those clips and the subtle hints of KV life hit me harder than a two ton truck and the memories came flooding back.

Well, enough of nostalgia and tear stained sighs….let me get back to my groove and take you through some of my memories of those days.]

Episode 1 – The “Gilt” Attack!

It was one of those god send weeks at KV where all we had to do was make exhibits for the upcoming Natioanl Level Science Exhibition. Classes were going on at a lackluster pace and as usual, our class, VIIIB, was abuzz with activity. At these times, you see the caste system in full force there. No the one that makes Arjun Singh drool and dole out quotas like extras in a Sreesanth over, but the sects and subsects of the adolescent group dynamics (phew!). Briefly, you had:

Nerds – Wasting valuable time sitting and trying to find out the 17th root of irrational numbers.Conversations with them usually turned out to be like this:

Me: Me: So what was your score in the Class test?
Nerd: … my marks are equal to the 4th root of killers’ coefficient minus the irrational l part
Me: (Nervous Laugh) talk about being lucky!


Ass Kissers – The ones with the most displayed enthusiasm fighting it out in the classrooms to make the most profligate displays just to get a good word in with the teacher. They have their heads so far up the teachers backside that most of the do resemble colonoscopes

c. Jocks For want of a better name, Jocks run of to the stadium at the drop of a hat to engage in their favorite sports all of them which involved hitting harder, running faster or stretching more with macho grunts at the closest proximity of any member of the female species. (Actually, the scientists have discovered that the shortest measured unit of time is the jock second or the amount of time lapsed between the teacher announcing recess and the jock reaching the tracks/stadium/gym)

d. Drifters – These were the dregs of the class. The members of ABBA (All BackBenchers Association) and various other entirely ineffective gangs who had one thing in common sheer abhorrence to any mental or physical activity and united by the cult motto having fun in the most wackiest way possible. Ah, I see you smirking and mouthing the word “LOSER”. Nay, usually, the toppers, athletes, school captains and the people who achieve the best in their life comes from this group. True Story!

Now, yours truly was a member of the drifters (obviously) and lingering around the class watching various groups battling it out. A sight that would put the building site of an Egyptian Pyramid to shame! Seats pouring over brows that are tightened while applying fevicol to cardboard, hands moving in unison to cut thermocol in the right possible shape (that of the roof of a garbage plant, what a waste!)

At that time, we were engaged in building the easiest of things to make in a science project, The Ecosystem! Cut thermocol, make shapes of mountains and rivers (go wild here!) and fix some figures of animals, PRESTO! Your ecosystem model is ready. You see, being a drifter did not mean shirking from work but trying to achieve maximum gain in the least possible amount of effort and with the major part of time left for trivial pursuits. The above mentioned thermocol pieces were juxtaposed between the wild raging bull figure and a 2 inch tall hyena (well, in our defense if the continents hadn’t drifted the world WOULD have been witness to such marvels in our ecosystem)

The effort had tired us and we were glancing around and commenting generously on our esteemed classmates work. I looked at what looked like the model of an Oil Rig and commented to the nerd – ass kisser hybrid (of the mutations in these species are too many) next to me,

“Nice Work, so you building an Oil Refinery?”

(Gnashing teeth) “No, it’s the Eiffel Tower”

“Oh, speaking of which, the Video Library guy asked me to remind you that you haven’t yet returned Rebecca in Paris cassette”

Loud guffaws from my partners in crime and giggles from the girls around made him look like the Pope at an IPL Cheerleader concert.

I was piling it on. He wanted to punch me. But how to with one hand! (His other holding one small card board strip precariously perched on a slice of thermocol)

While passing time like this, Sarun’s eyes fell on a shiny packet in the class store cupboard. The protagonist of this pots a nice thick packet of Gilt Powder

Gilt Powder (Scientific Name: Giltifera Nevagonnawashoff) One of the most sticky and potent material known to man available in different colors and luminescent in nature. It has been known to attach itself to the human body and nothing short of one of those laser hair removal treatments would take it of (The ones by Alana of New York…or is it Rebecca in Paris?)

Anyway, it used to be an unavoidable part of any science project in KV. In its various forms, it was gold in ornaments, metals in mines, sparkling sea, oil spills. In effect, it was the Aamir Khan of stationery; Versatile, Handles any kind of roles and Interferes too much!

The word he said after that to me still sends a shiver down my spine, even after 10 years:

“Ten bucks says I can throw this pack through the blades of the fan”

The scene after ten seconds of this statement was utterly chaotic. It was like the end of space and time and gilt was ll that had survived. Thank fully the fan had a slight tilt and the whole pack had been carpet bombed into one corner of the class and its occupants, the nerds where now looking like the entire cast of Ramanand Sagar’s Alif Laila.

Unfortunately, the perpetrators, us, where right in front of them (a grave deviation from our usual modus operandi wherein we are far away from the scene of crime when it happens and enjoying the view from a previously decided vantage point) and more so unfortunate was the fact that it wasn’t the only pack of gilt in the wardrobe!

(The author of this post would like to draw a curtain on the proceedings for the next 15 minutes so as not to offend the readers with a display of primal attack instincts and brutual violence)

The bedlam ended when the gilt was evenly distributed as per the laws of demand, supply and rage and everyone settled back into their seats. Like Sunil Joshi missing any catch higher than 3 feet, what missed our view was the sparkling state of affairs. Soon, the hour ended and the next one was Physics taken by Ms BM. This business like lady would never miss a class and rumor has it that she actually delivered her baby a week late so as not to miss the extra lectures for the clas XII board exams.

She breezed in and started to take attendance. Unmindful of the fact that the whole class was now covered evenly in a thin layer of guilt and thinking only of converting the potential energy of a trapped stone in a tower to kinetic energy. It would have entirely escaped her notice had it not been for SK (I cant take his real name here coz he is a well respected surgeon now!) or to be more exact his complexion.

He used to put Curtly Ambrose to shame with his dark toned skin and on him, the gilt was having a field day. It was like the international consumer exhibition of gilt and they were basking in the glory and sparkling away to glory on his ebony skin. The speechless expression in her face was one to behold and soon, like a patient detective ( Hercle Poirot with a touch of Isaac Newton, if you will) she unraveled this whole episode and needless to say, we 4 of the Drifters were found guilty as charged.

The punishment meted out (16 rounds across the athletic track in hot sun) was totally worth for the fact that we could see the “shining” visages of our class for the next whole month. More than 4 guys from our class could not walk together due to the blinding glare the synergy of gilt produced and even, it was said, ten of standing together for assembly prayer resulted in ruptured corneas for 6 of the senior staff.

(Next: Episode 2 – The Cracker Menace)

(PS: Apologies for the over use of cricket metaphors as I have been watching too many IPL matches)

Sunday, April 06, 2008

The Class of 2008

[ It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock 'n' roll / If you wanna be a star of stage and screen / Look out it's rough and mean ]

Summer of 2006: The young ,energetic lot of SITM 2006-2008 is ready to take on the world ....

Summer of 2008: We have been unleashed into the outside world...Battle scarred and hungry for success. We are ready to take on the world but it is a different thing whether we want to. Ruling it seems more easier.

We have, as a batch, had our struggles, sorrows, triumphs, victories, heartbreaks, joys and exhiliration. In the two years at SITM, we found much more than what we envisioned we would, we realized where we stand in the world, we gained new perspectives and regained focus.

How do you measure the success of any batch? Is it by the salaries that they are offered? The achievements they mete out or the benchmarks they set and reset for the future batches? It is not with pride but with humilty we say that we achieved all this, a 70% increase in Highest Salary, Focused media attention on events and achieved academic and extracurricular merits.

But, we do not believe that this is what measures our success. Our success lies in us...Each of us...THE CLASS OF 2008

[This is the snippet I wrote for the for our class's home page as an intro]

Friday, April 04, 2008

Almost an MBA

(In the beginning, there was discovery, a confusion of elements, a first snowfall of impossible change. Old lives undone, left behind, strange faces made familiar, new nightmares to challenge sleep, new friends to feel safe with. Only then comes control, the need to impose order onto chaos through determination, through study, through struggle, all in defiance of a thundering truth. They're here, and the earth shudders underfoot)

What does it take for a man to find himself? Does he need Tragedy? Love? Triumph? Falls? Ups? Highs? Near-Death? Or Death?

None of these in my case. All I needed were 18 months in the sweet hell of a business school. The 18 months of all the experiences in the first passage…Well, almost all except death.

It seems lofty to pronounce that the 18 months at my school were life changing but hell, they were! I went in as a raw unpolished stone and came out after 18 months as…no, not a diamond, but a shiny cube which reflects and refracts the world around me. It made me aware of the world, helped me connect with the web of human activity (Human Activity systems, as Konher put itJ)

As my long ago previous post showed snippets of what my initiation into MBA was let me continue and dive straight into more incidents.

Almost an MBA (Part II)

1400 HRS, 23.11.06 – Dereliction of Duty

“Bloody, what do you first years think of yourself? Its bloody work that you are ignoring not some bloody assignment…”

“6…7….8…” Sharma counted under his breath. Audible only to me and Prashant “Jugadu” Anand

“If I hear more bloody complaints about your work or bloody non-work I’ll dissolve the junior editorial bloody team”

“9…10…11…” It was Jugadu’s turn to count now. I could detect the upsurge of bottled up laughter inside me and Saurabh “Cisco” Sharma next to me.

Anymore of the famous “bloody” word from the head and we would guffaw right there, right now. In spite of the fact that we were there for a serious dereliction of duty. We as members of the editorial tam from first year were supposed to be de facto correspondents of any major events. Like the National telecom Seminar 2006. This found us sleeping in the back rows of the Vishwabhavan while the senior committee was sweating it out, trying to capture every word of the delegates.

“Bloody get out and finish the report now!!”

“12”, Finally... Out of the room in 12 Bloody Counts!!

2100 HRS, 08.02.06 – Work & Fulfillment

“….and that’s why I insisted that both the streams are a good bet for the kind of intern profile you are offering us.”

“Hmmm…” SK, Director, Project Management-Asia mused “I think I am ok with that then, Harish. I will expect the resumes in mail by tomorrow 9:00 AM then?”

Thoughts swirled in my mind, “College opens at 10, Need to finish TBM PPT by 10:30, need the latest sign up list”

“Yes Sir, Definitely” I replied.

Madhav’s message when I was voted into the Placement Team flashed in my mind. ‘Congrats, someone deserving made into the team. Sorry abt ur personal life though!’

It was epiphanical. Here I was, at 9 in the night on a con call with the director of one of the worlds leading telecom companies and trying to convince him to consider both streams in our for internships.

Although, looking back, I don’t have any regrets of joining the team. To the novice, Placement Team, in any business school is the group of 6-8 students who handles with varying degree of autonomy, the entire placement process of the current batch. Internships, final placements, process, recruitment days et al. I say varying degrees of autonomy because in some cases they are just glorified clerk and in some, like my school, they have a great degree of freedom.

Back breaking grueling work, managing the aspirations of the batch at one end, pressure from the management at another and at a third vicious end the corporate who expect nothing but the best! This is what makes the life of a Placement team member…worth living. We live for the day to erase the hundreds of inscriptions of no: s, action items, plans and names and just see “Shop Closed 100% Placed and Mission Accomplished” on the huge white board.

I had the feeling twice…both after Summers and Finals…and nothing in my 25 years on earth have come close to that euphoria!