When Boredom Strikes..

Its quarter past eight
When boredom strikes
3 rounds to the kitchen I make
But nothing appetizing insight
Why oh why
Do I suffer this plight
When inertia takes over
…The psyche
Then the fly on the wall
And I are alike
Not an inch we feel moving like
What does one do?
When boredom strikes
When staring at the TV
Becomes a rite
Or writing up verses like these…
So trite!

Breaking the silence and breaking a knee

I never intended this blog to be just a chronicle of events I go through in life and so I have consciously refrained from making posts that are purely personal. This one is an exception since the last month has been one which offered one of those ‘first time experiences’….difficult to forget. That…and somewhere I am feeling very guilty about the silence on the blog for over a month.

Aug 2006…most part of the month was spent limping around the streets of Bangalore (thanks to a bad knee)…begging auto drivers to take me back to my house…which is located in an area that is clearly not amongst one of their favorites. Finding an auto from home is even worse. I can never spot one close to home and ironically whenever I spot one at a distance craning my neck and waving my hands desperately trying to catch his attention…people mysteriously appear around me making their way towards that same lone auto…with me limping in the background…muttering under my breath. ‘Heartless creature…just because you can walk faster than me… does not give you any right to steal the auto that I spotted first’

What can be worse than a painfully stiff knee? I don’t have to think much about that answer. Its is a painfully stiff knee PLUS not knowing what caused it to happen. Have spent the last 3 weeks trying to conjure up possible reasons for its occurrence, asking doctors who have - paraphrased my questions and thrown those back at me, explaining to people that I honestly don’t know how it happened and getting strange looks from them in return and then there are people who know me really well…who nod their head in resignment as though to suggest ‘such things can only happen to you…why am I not surprised?’

The long ride to the operation theatre lying down i recall was quite a disorienting experience. All I could see was bright tube lights on the ceiling alternatively flashing at me and disappearing. Each time I tried to raise my neck up to see how far I had reached I heard a stern voice from behind me…madame…please lie down…I have half a mind to say ‘but why…why should I lie down - when I can sit enjoy the ride and smile at strangers along the way…its just my knee which is affected...the rest of me is fine.

As I entered a rather somber looking zone - ensconced within which lay the rooms where people like me would be operated…I wonder how people who opt for cosmetic surgical procedures are insane enough to willing put themselves through such an experience. I am made to wait in room where there are 4 others like me clothed in green and absolutely silent. The atmosphere is closest to one I have seen at airports…people on stretchers are made to queue up - like air planes on a tarmac waiting before take off. It’s as busy in there as well. 25 – 30 operations per days between the 2 operation theaters – I am told. The silence in the waiting area breaks by the sound of the 98.3 Radio FM jockey…which has been turned on at my request to compensate for my I-Pod which has been taken away despite my doctors promise that I would be allowed to carry it with me inside. The song cannot be more opportune…sunidhi chauhan crooning…marne se pehle jeena… seekh le. By this time, tired of lying down, I have defied the orders and am sitting up straight on my wheelie bed following the grim faced, green masked denizens as they pace up and down with surgical instruments in hand. A rather chirpy doctor – anesthetist pair wave out at me from the other end of the waiting room before coming close and realizing that I am not the patient they are supposed to operate on. We break into a giggle and while I am still gazing in amazement at their high spirits – distinctly out of place - with the rest of the ambience…in a split second I am made to lie down and am taken in.

I have lost my vantage point and all I can see now is bright lights atop with pale blue tiles on the surround walls and about 6 – 7 men / women – some bespectacled – asking me a rapid fire of questions…

Right knee or left knee?
Are you allergic to any medications?
Is this your first surgery? ….

Post a spinal anesthesia - I am given some drug that has me partially sedated. The music player is perched on one corner of the room and I continue to listen to a mélange of doctor speak and FM radio. I shiver…not out of fear but due to the spine chilling room temperature. My teeth chatter and in my partially sedated state I try to recollect when the anesthetist asked me the night before whether I have any lose teeth – is this what he meant? I have only a semi conscious recollection of what transpires during the next 1.5 hours. More FM radio, conversations that ranged from my profession…to my interest in how surgery is performed under hypnosis…to my stay in Ireland…to Guinness beer. Of course I also see the entire arthroscopic surgery on the TV screen which at the time seemed like I was just watching a science video.

It all ends with my surgeon asking me – so what do you like better…Ireland or our operation theatre…and my reply…I don’t think I enjoyed my stay in Ireland as much as I enjoyed my experience here. After exchanging the thank you(s) and goodbyes - my surgeon and anesthetist leave.

Out of the operation theatre once again I crane my neck out to look up at the world outside and I see a bee line of eager smiling strangers looking back at me.

The journey in and out of that operation theatre - on the wheelie bed has changed my perspective about operations…hospitals…doctors – forever! Of course…if I could just get over my fear of the MRI scan machine…and stop thinking that if I look straight ahead at it…it will suck me in…I’d say…I’ve done it!!!

Traveling by the big bird and other stories

I cannot put my finger on what it is...but something about being at an international airport makes me nervous. The ones in India...I could walk through them in my sleep and still find myself on the right flight. The sheer magnitude of the place is daunting. There are signposts each step of the way. But we still lose our way! If only we would stop watching the planes - take off and land and follow the directions instead, may be, we would not land up at wrong terminals.

I find myself at the check in desk half an hour before it could even open. Yet I'm antsy. I see a man - in his 40's, mostly bald except the few strands of thin hair running from side to side. Beads of sweat magnify his thin tresses. He reaches the counter & finds no one there and panics. He finds out that check in for the flight has shifted to Zone G. He panics more and tells me to recheck. I re-check and turn around to tell him that we need to indeed shift to Zone G but by this time I find him running with his trolley towards zone G. I find myself running behind him. The adult in me chides me for running panic struck when there are 3.5 hours to board. My irrational self pays no heed, craning my neck trying not to lose sight of man running amok with his trolley. Half bald nervous man has suddenly become my official guide.

At the check in counter I feel a sinking feeling. The same that one feels when one is stopped at the railway platform and asked for a ticket which has suddenly decided to disappear in the deepest darkest corner of one's bag. Why people don’t make bags with a small light fitting in them is a different story. I examine my options. Should I go to the firang or settle for the Indian instead. Firangs derive their sense of power from the system - they hold their rules and regulations dear to their heart. Where as an Indian man feels his sense of power at being able to bend the system and its rules beyond recognition If I am excess on my baggage allowance there is a higher possibility that the Indian would bail me out. I try not to look nervous reminding myself that like dogs, even airport officials can smell it on you. It works, I am allowed to pass without paying

Inside the flight no sooner that they have got to their seats, I see people starting the barter for seats. 'If you let me take this one...then you can have the window there at the end where my wife is sitting' Nervous half bald man looks visibly less nervous though still restless to strike a good deal for his choice of seat. The strong blower in the aircraft has sucked away his beads of sweat and the edge of his hair is starting to fan up at the sides.

At 11 p.m. I am woken up by middle aged woman in red saree and asked...would you like to have your khaana beta'...I nod and am served. I like the mummy like hostess rather than a cold white ghost speaking to me with a twang. I have a new found love in my heart for Air India.

Bombay has a shinning new arrival lounge. The marble stair-case that once adorned the entrance with water falling from the top - has disappeared. The smell however is unmissable. Gregory David Robertson has an entire para dedicated to it in his book. Very well described. I am feeling less poetic though. To me it’s just a mix of some strong, cheap phenyl and un-serviced, musty old air conditioners. The cop at the exit gate stops me and utters the word 'pauti' (Marathi for receipt). I hand over my immigration slip and walk out. I know I’m home!

Air Travel,Air India,bombay,mumbai,

I will not...

In my effort to customize the content on my blog, i started playing around with the html code in the settings. Ofcourse me being me completely ignored the warning on blogger help that said i must save my original code somewhere. I changed things back and forth and the result was I saw only garbled html code on my site. Twas not possible to undo since I had saved changes every step of the way and not even kept track of what changes I was making...

Anyway - took the dumb and easy route out - and just created another blog and copied the html code from there. And it worked. My blog is alive and breathing again...

Guess there is always a way out in life *impish smile*

Categories: Trivia_

My very own bullshit generator

Some one I once worked for had a rare gift...he could speak a minute long sentence in using actual...real English words, without making any sense whatsoever!! At first I thought it was a simple thing to do and an important skill set to have...so I sat down one day and started to write a sentence that made no sense...and i just could not do it! I was shocked at my own incompetence. I was also sad that I would never learn the art of talking nonsense.

But I never give up on anything so easily (for those of you who know me, you know how true that is). So, from that day onwards, whenever i sat in meetings with him I would take copious notes of all that he said. God knows! I treasured my note pad more than my life. It traveled with me every where i went. It saw me through some really tough times. Whenever i was faced with a question, I would peak into my little nonsense book and utter something inane and vacuous...it worked so beautifully. Nobody would get offended at what i said, and i would get away without committing to do any work. Ah! Those blissful days!

A colleague of mine, jealous that she was...could not stand my bliss. She lay her evil eyes and her fat ugly hands painted with hideous nail colour, on my little nonsense book....one day...and stole it!!!! I could not find it anywhere. I had no clue she had it, until one day I heard her speak...She stole a line - right out of that book of mine. I could not do a thing about it. After that day, I was condemned to work! Whenever some one asked me a question or spoke to me about my willingness to take on a piece of work...I would scramble for words...but nothing would come to mind. My words would not come to my rescue.

But yesterday i stumbled upon...a bull-shit-generator. It can create bull shit at the press of a button. Believe me, you must go and try it. It could be a life saver in times when all heads at an important meeting are turned towards you to say something 'significant'...or when you are running to catch the evening movie while boss stops you on the way to ask for your opinion on some presentation he has just made....some of it's output is just mind blowingly cool!

Here's a sample

We should all work towards 'generating plug-and-play communities' to 'incentivize efficient mindshare' that will help us 'integrate open-source action-items'...sounds intelligent...doesn't it?

Categories: Humor_

Super (fluous) Markets

It has become fashionable now to talk about how supermarkets (that started out as organized retail establishments bringing to consumers better and cheaper products due to economies of scale) are encroaching every aspect of life and forcing 'mom and pop stores' and farmers out of business.

Is there a Life without supermarkets?

There is a trend...albiet subtle...to move back to the old way of shopping devoid of endless aisles in a standardized environment burgeoning with products that one (really) does not need and giving consumers the agony (well they tout is as 'freedom') of making choices...which they really do not need to go through...and I'm talking as a consumer here.

We all like to have a choice and I would not rubbish the concept completely...but I am not for spending 15 mins with over 20 brands and variants of bread staring back at me...each wishpering 'pick me up'. It is confusing and an un-necessary waste of my mind.

A friend of mine and I were chatting how about any...and I mean any...trip to the supermarket eats up no less than 1 hour of our time and no less than 5 pounds or the equivalent of that...and this is even if i chant my mantra 10 times before entering.. "I will not buy anything off my list...will not buy unnecessary products'. That money and time could surely be put to better use.

There is brownbread, wholewheat, white bread...each of these in three variants...they are sliced medium, thick and extra thin... with atleast 2 pack sizes....that is already 3 *3*2 combinations. When we take into considerations brands within each of these...you cant imagine how many packets of bread you'd find on the aisle. An these are breads for normal people. Then there are ones that are gluten free, low fat, low sugar, low salt and low everything....Then there are the exotic varieties...irish soda bread....croissants....baguettes...hot cross buns...scones....burger buns....rolls...pita bread...pita wholewheat and I am not exaggerating when i say I could write a whole post on breads alone.

If we look at cleaners...you'd find seperate liquid cleaners for the kitchen, one for the window, one for bathrooms, one of the shower area....and then there is an all purpose cleaner...so what may i ask will happen if I used the kitchen cleaner in the bathroom...or the surface top cleaner for my windows...after all I am just spraying the same liquid and wiping right? I am not sure how many people think like i do...but I've actually seen people buy and stock 3 variants of cleaners at home.

My favourite activity these days therefore is to walk around the super market ailes and spot strange products....i know it eats up into my time but I have a lot of it anyway and believe me its a very entertaining way to pass time. Here are a few of my hot favourties.

1. Decorative Sand....1.69 pounds....it looks to me like it is ordinary sand found by the beach side....packadged into a transparent looking bucket with a lid...fortunately it does not come with any on the pack information on how to best use it or a website that you could login to for more information on it.

2. Night time milk....after soy, rice, milk with omega 3 and fat free variants.....lo and behold...we have a specially packaged milk that one can drink at night! And they even give you a reason....thats because it has high melatonin....that sleep inducing enzyme that some lucky people have too much of. And it goes on to say that since melatonin is anyway produced less during the day...having it during the day will not make one feel sleepy. I'm sure by extension there'll be a market for 'wake up milk' for people who just cant get out of bed...with melatonin absorbing enzymes...is anybody listening.

3. This one takes the cake...and it is 'ironing water'....with an influsion of lychee extracts and jasmine. To start with i question that combination of fragrances...lychee and jasmine...I am sure they could have done better...I even turned to the back-of-the-pack information to see whether lychee and jasmine have any special properties for which they deserve the pride of place in the ironing water...and they don't! Coming to the product attributes itself...it is to be sprinkled ahead of ironing to infuse your clothes with a fragrance that will last you all day long. The next time your neighbourhood dhobi sprinkles water out of his humble brass tumbler before ironing...ask him to get a little creative and pluck a few jasmines from his back garden....to infuse your clothes with fragrance of the local flora...but then again dont complain if he charges you a premium !

Categories: Wandering Around_

You’ve got junk!

I seldom read forwards in my mail box. My usual response is… ‘move to trash’…but every once in a way, my curiosity gets the better of me and I open forwarded mail only to see mindless junk (well most of the time). Today was one such curious day and I got this…..

When I Asked God for Strength
He Gave Me Difficult Situations to Face

When I Asked God for Brain & Brown
He Gave Me Puzzles in Life to Solve

When I Asked God for Happiness
He Showed Me Some Unhappy People

When I Asked God for Wealth
He Showed Me How to Work Hard

When I Asked God for Favors
He Showed Me Opportunities to Work Hard

When I Asked God for Peace
He Showed Me How to Help Others

God Gave Me Nothing I Wanted
He Gave Me Everything I Needed

Thankfully it did not end with…send this to 10 people…blah. But I still had an objection with the way it ended. There was something seriously wrong with this prayer....or at least the person who wrote it…I don't NEED difficult situations, Puzzles to solve...maybe I want but I still don’t need them (and what is 'brain and brown' anyway)....Unhappy people no no...Hard work / opportunities to work hard – besides the fact that its making the same point twice - it still is a no no.

What is this supposed to be – the title should have read ‘prayer by a masochist’ instead of ‘nice thoughts!!!’

I seriously…seriously wonder who is creating this…and for what. Either they are trashy or worse still some are ‘made to look witty’ which people can see through…. obviously…I mean who are you trying to kid? People dying of cancer or strange diseases that strike people only in the US. Commonsensically forwarded mail would be the last thing on anyone’s mind who’d know someone suffering from a fatal illness. Yet we forward such messages…under the hope…what if there is even a remote possibility of this mail thinggie working…I may be able to save a life. Ya sure!

Then there are these so called ‘marvels of nature’…pictures of stones & mountains & ocean beds & fields that one day someone serendipitously found out….ah…that strangely thing resembles the face of someone famous in history or maybe it’s a map of a lost continent…the mythical bridge connecting India to Lanka.

Witty announcements at airports that nobody has heard....and here is something else…

The human race is doomed through stupidity; here are some actual label instructions on consumer goods.

On a Sears hairdryer -- Do not use while sleeping. (That's the only time I have to work on my hair.)

On a bag of Fritos -- You could be a winner! No purchase necessary. Details inside. (The shoplifter special?)

Yeah the human race is stupid….for actually hoping that people would believe the garbage that they forwarded.

What are they getting out of it….pray tell me…WHY are people sitting and concocting all this...just to forward it to a 100 others...why??? WHO has so much spare time and energy? Oh don’t tell me people are getting paid to do this stuff. That will sadden me even more!

Here comes the DIVA

I have a new neighbor…at work! The other day she strutted in and a few steps behind her was the office boy who displayed a fine act of balance…potted plant in one hand, a rather queer looking lampshade in the other, clutching onto a pink shopping bag – those handmade paper varieties that one would find only at very expensive stores. Who was she and what was she doing here? Boss had mentioned that somebody new would be joining us soon…but this kind of a scenario was certainly not what one would associate with a new employee…or any employee!

I remember my first day at work…when I had almost fought with hubby dear to reach office on time (to create the right impression or rather to not create a wrong one – only to sit at the reception and read whatever I could find in English – 3 newspapers, 5 take away menus, some random things hung on the wall announcing how good the company had performed and how important the spirit of teamwork is, a calendar that had thoughts for each month of which had turned the pages over to take a sneak preview at what would keep me inspired for the next quarter)

Well that was me…but Ms chiffon saaree here had summoned a bunch of elves to 'set up' her place…Can somebody please connect this lamp… and pin this (happened to be a placard that said OM)...she even had a footstool to rest her legs!

In conversation with friends I have realized that she is not a lone ranger. Her tribe is growing . Most of my friends complain about how they had been victimized by her presence. By her's i mean, that of her clan. The clan of ATDs (Attitude Throwing Divas). There is them and then there is the rest of us FOSUDs (Full of Substance UnderDogs). And corporate life is all about the on going battle between the two, while the ATDs are playing the game for power, FOSUDs to keep up their dignity and pride.

You can make out an ATD when you see one. She'd (I dont know yet whether there is a male equivalent) be the one who always looks very well put together..hair in place...lipstick intact...no creases on clothes...and especially so at the end of the day. A cigarette would not be comepletely out of place in her manicured hands.

Poor FOSUD on the other hand would, despite all attempts to not look haggard, in the first hour at work ends up looking like a cross between a harrased housewife and a street urchin.

This is as much true about her as it is about her workdesk. The ATDs desk looks like a miniature museum that she can narrate annecdotes about when boss leans by her shoulder raptured by the Channel Pink that she would have paid a fortune for... a rare species of bonsai, photos of her holiday in bali...and ofcourse her coffee mug with the london tube map on it.

On the FOSUD desk...if you manage to look behind the clutter of work files and books...you find pens that dont work in a coffee mug that has a broken handle (given by the office boy who took pity on her state of affairs)...in there you'd also find a stappler that has perhaps run out of pins...a glimpse at the softboard and you'd see takeaway menus ofcourse...her only saving grace when she sits back late in the office...pictures of family in khandala by the dam (at best) and a couple of inspiring quotes...never say die...be the change that you want to see around yourself and some such stuff.

At a meeting with the big boss or a client, you'd find the FOSUD making feeble attempts to make a point...which ofcourse will not be heard by anyone except her....it is uncanny how after a couple of mins...someone else will say the very same thing that FOSUD has been mumbling all along. But FOSUD is a lady with the never say die attitude...and on hearing the echo of her own thoughts in some corner of the room...makes yet another attempt to be heard...ya i was just thinking of that...infact i want to add to what he said....by which time the discussion moves to some other topic.

Meetings are an ATDs playground...she is completely at ease in the midst of people...and when ATD speaks...people (do not listen)...they just stare at her in amazement....which often ends in serious nods by some...to more vocal applauds by others confirming her as part of their club. Ofcourse if one were to only listen to what she said...one would not be nodding in approval but utter confusion...since her sentences are usually long winding, full of superfluous words that often have a lot of 'R's & 'A's in them allowing her to bring out the best of her unidentifiable accent.

Substance does not count as much in corporate life as attitude does. Its ironical and I have often found myself asking why? I have spoken and discussed and hypothesized ad nauseum but have not found any rational reason why people with 'just' attitude and nothing else go places while people who have a solid thought process backing them but lack the chutzpah struggle twice as hard. In my quest to understand this irony of life, a friend threw some light and what she said made some sense though not all. People who dont throw attitude around, are somewhere under valuing themselves and when YOU, yourself do not give you the worth you deserve...then why will somebody else. The other reason being...in evaluating choices and arriving at decisions...who said human beings are led by rational faculties anyway?

Categories: Humor_

Prologue….or Monologue!

Not once…but most times I have interviewed consumers for Market Research…I have had to mindlessly explain to a bunch of bored looking housewives why I am sitting there with a camera pointing to them.

(Only recently I discovered that it was mandated by the Market Search Society of India to set a preamble to the discussion).

There are few occasions however, as I have gone through the motions of my boring speech…something in me has jumped out (well...almost) pestering to grab my attention and despite my incessant efforts at trying to banish this rebellious thought…has persisted enough to almost form a paralleled mental process.

Here is some anecdotal evidence in support of what I am saying…Enjoy!

Hi…My name is Reshma and before we start the discussion let me give
you a brief introduction

(Oh crap! Here we go again…)

The company I work for, we don't make or sell anything… we just meet people like you and take your opinion on the products that you use and your opinion is very
crucial to the companies who make these products. Once such company
has sent me here today

(and today being the key word…since last morning I found out that I if I don’t come here TODAY something earth shattering would happen)

and this company is into making

(well…what should I say about them…they make LIFE SAVING DRUGS and they have put it into research TODAY…since they have ONLY until tomorrow find out about the results and so they have sent me here to talk to all of YOU about)

… JAM !!!

To this some one from the groups asks…Madam Jam…wohi khane wala?

I put on my warmest smile since it is just the start of the discussion and don’t want to piss them off…Haanji wohi …aap ne kaise guess kar liya?

(You are sooooo intelligent…Yes it is JAM…that hideous looking pink blob...)

***********************************************************************

Then there are times when I’ve been at the same place so often that I’ve seen the same faces in the audience for researches that I have done on tea…jam…biscuits…you name it …and they use it!

‘Repeat Respondents’ as they are known in the industry or ‘professional respondents’ like they fancy calling themselves can fit into 2 categories….actually 3.

The soft spoken ‘mama types’ the ones who nod their head as you give your opening speech for the (n+1)th time…even though they have heard it only two days ago…they have such a concerned look on their face…almost to say…haan beta mujhe pata hai tum par kya guzar rahi hai ! They are by and large 'nice'. They behave themselves at the discussion, even try to answer intelligently...make my job easy...I don't have anything against them.

The other category is the ‘marketing savvy….I know all the jargon’ babe. These can be real pests and talking to them can be a real test of anyones patience

Your opinions are very important to us…there is no right or wrong when it comes to an opinion…so feel free to express what you say

Haanji yeh sab hume pata hai…ab group discussion shuru karein

Haan jaroor…abhi 5 minute mein shuru kartein hai…par uske pehle mujhe aap logo ko kuch dikhana hai

Haan dikhaye…jo CONCEPT BOARD…dikhana hai

Come...sit here...take my place...is what I feel like telling them...and I'll happily take yours!

The third slot is reserved for the real duhs! They’ll be the ones who as soon as you enter the room would say….

Aare Madam Aap…aaj itne dino baad dikhayee diye…

(While trying my best to not recognize her…and trying to drop big hints her way by nodding my head to say yes and no all at once I say) Achha…Main…Nahin…Shayad Koi Aur Hoga (But Duh is what Duh does…so Duh does not get the hint...since she is looking into the camera and waving & smiling...as though it were a live telecast)

Aare…Kaise nahin yaad hai aapko…abhi 2 hi to hafte hue hain…kailash cllony mein to hua tha group…wohi kissan wala!

(SSShhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…dumb woman…your live telecast is my client sitting in the backroom!)

***********************************************************************

Though I’ve fretted and fumed when these incidents have happened…in hindsight many a time they’ve saved the day and given me some interesting stories to narrate when I am back from the travel.

Categories: Qualitative Research_ , Humor_