Ta-ta TATA!!

After almost 2 months of being un-connected, I finally managed to get myself internet connection. I was not lazy all this time, just had some weird problems – Airtel doesnot have Broadband in Nagpur, BSNL has a 3-month wait period, Tata Indicom Broadband connection was not allowed in my community, (some shitty rule of the “row house community”), Reliance PCMCIA card, which I had got couriered from Hong Kong wouldn’t work on Vista... So basically, am not lazy - Believe it!!

For 2700-odd you get internet connection, with a 4GB pen drive – FREE! Internet anytime anywhere. The trade-off: a “slightly” slower speed of 155 kBps. Plus brand value – I had assumed Tata’s would have higher quality than Reliance. Superb scheme (I was under the impression that a 4 GB Pen Drive itself would be worth 2000), or so I thought...

Now that my internet is presumably working, I log on and wait for Google to load. Hey, wait a minute!! You never have to wait for Google to load! I rummage through my room to find the catalogue, the welcome kit – what was the speed they had promised 155 kBps or was it kbps (sincere apologies to the non-techies!). So my experience, Tata doesn’t load any page in less than 5 minutes, you get disconnected every few minutes (sometimes even less than 5), the pictures in those pages are barely recognisable – a setting, thanks to Manisha at IndiCom Customer Care, to get better speed. I wonder what will happen with the regular images! To top it all, this blog took me half an hour to just copy-paste from Word and save. (I typed the blog while it opened)

So much so for believeing in Kajol. I conveniently overlooked the fact that she is, by far, the best actor we have in the “industry” - she can make you believe what ever she wants...

Flying High

Recently – most of my blogs start that way, I know, but its usually the recent happenings that make me write – I was in a flight and thanks to the low air fares, everyone can simply fly and it seems everyone was simply flying. As luck would have it, I was surrounded by a large family, with people in the age group 2 to 70, presumably going on a summer vacation. Though it is rather doubtful, but The Family must have checked in after me, else why would their seats be so far apart? After a good 15 mins of convincing and swapping, The Family did manage to get some seats together, but just when they were beginning to settle down they realized that they didn’t have window seats for all. (I wonder why they didn't charter a plane!) Thus began the fights, not only among the children but also among the elders and the kids.

I hadn’t seen a family more unruly; such that the airhostess had to shout at one of the “bhabhis” (I'm assuming) of The Family, saying “please take care of your child, if he falls down, who will be responsible”. This because the child was jumping up and down the aisle when the plane had begun its descent. The crazy doings of The Family, with such primitive, crude conduct would not end. It made me think, that a till a few years ago, flying was only for a selected few, a privilige. But now, Indians have money. And this is the Indian with the money! Finally India seems to have arrived; I do hope the manners will be on the next flight!

Street kids!

On my way to the gym (before you say it, YES I have been going regularly, what my weight is now and what it was when I joined is beyond the point!! :-) ) I stop at this one traffic signal. And like most traffic signals, I usually find it RED. Now this one day, a kid was selling pens there. A Fancy CHINESE Pen with a torch on top. I thought that the kid could use the money, so bought one. Now the very next day, the same RED traffic signal and the same kid : “Bhaiya, pen le lo, bhaiya.” I informed him of my purchase the previous day and told him that I wouldn’t buy one everyday. Once again the very next day, the same RED traffic signal and the same kid: “Bhaiya aapne bola tha roz nahin loge, kal nahn liya, to aaj le lo.” Grinning ear-to-ear, I kept thinking of a smart reply, but eventually gave up, shelled out another 10 bucks and left with another fancy orange-coloured Chinese-made pen. The pens do work, but I am still amazed by the street-smart kid!

If ever I see a kid on the street begging for money, I preferably make him do some work: “Clean my car and you earn yourself 5 bucks.” Even if he makes it dirtier than before, it doesn’t matter. The point is that the kid learnt that money does not come for free; he needs to work for it. The law of OUR country does not permit kids under 18 to work; it’s a crime. I beg to differ! If these kids, most of whom are homeless and don’t have the money to buy, let alone education, even food or clothes, are to be on their own without the basic necessities of life, I would not be surprised to find them in jails, sooner than later. And even if we don’t employ them, who will pay for their food, clothes and of course, their education? The government surely cannot afford it. Is it not better for them to work and earn their own living, rather than turning into criminals or beggars? Is it not better than they learn the value of money the harder way rather than being pampered by somebody who’s basically and actually a nobody?

Water? Water, everywhere?

The Chronicles of SardarMan -

In the peak of the summer season, it is not uncommon for any part of the country to experience water shortage. Now just the other day, my mom was in the loo, when water got over. Thanks to the miracle-invention of the century, mobile phone, she could get in touch with the watchman to get the motor on. What should have taken less than 10 mins ended up in a full fledged water fight (read war) lasting days!!

Enter Sardarman. A menace. Lives in the building, on the ground floor, has a hobby of watering barren land, any piece of barren land that he can lay his eyes and water hose on. In the parking lot, he has made his office, and in half of the building complex he has made courtyards; courtyards, which can only be called encroachments. So anyway, that fateful day the Sardarman, with the Sardarwoman as his accomplice, washed every part of the courtyard and watered all accessible barren lands. What’s worse, they had blocked the water connection for the rest of the building. And when the watchman requested them to defer their washing plans for an hour, he was greeted with nasty abuses. The menacing duo then, in retaliation, turned all the taps on and left the building. Just to prove their point, whatever that was.

War had thus been declared. The guns and tanks, loaded with all sorts of household crap, were fired. As the policeman much later pointed out to the duo, its nature’s law (also called gravity in scientific jargon) that anything and everything will fall down. The much adorned, endlessly beautified courtyard would need another round of washing. The advent of the policeman did nothing but appease the duo.

Now the climax! A few days later, we were just leaving for the airport, to drop off my sister. And we see HIM, running frantically towards us, hands drawn out in front of him, motioning for us to stop. We glanced at the watch: 4.30 AM. In the middle of the night, he wanted to fight about what had happened the other day. Would not listen to anything we have to say, even the probability of missing the flight didn’t convince him. Only when another call was made to the helping-helpline 100, did he back-off and let us leave. But we couldn’t even relish the cake. No prizes for guessing who we ran into at the gate, awaiting our return!

I moved my cheese...

Recently (actually today only, but just in case you're reading this some other day) I got an award at my previous company. Now its not one of those "young acheiver" or "Mr. talented" awards which some have got, its a rather simple one, by the name "Best integrated team" and as you might have guessed by the name, it wasn't I who was lauded but the team. I am not boasting, read on. So, I got many calls from my ex-colleagues and not-yet-ex-friends to congratulate coz now my photo would be put up, but then does anyone really wanna see it? And does it really make much of a difference as to what I did when I was there? It was, after all, another time, another life...

Have you read "Who moved my cheese?"? All it talks about is change and how it affects you, rather adversely, and how to cope with it. But does reading such a book really make you invulnerable to change? All said and done, one does not cry, not even fret, about the change. Not because it is inevitable, but because it was your decision, your deliberated choice. But then that is what makes it all the more difficult. One opines whether it was a wrong choice after all, but I think one shud close that chapter and look forward to what is there to come. Because I believe that the best is still to come. Is it practical, is it not too ideal? I guess ambivalence is a way of life. You think and after weighing your options come up with a decision, but that decision haunts you for a long time. It seems to have many ifs and buts.

Now tell me, can you really sell the ferrari and become a monk? But thats beyond the scope...