Friday, November 30, 2007

CAT hangover.

Your best friend tells you horrible things about yourself. You realize that all those mean things may have been said in a rage but they're true and you had hoped that no one else had noticed.

Mr Douglas Adams' The Total Perspective Vortex shows its victim the entire unimaginable infinity of the universe with a very tiny marker that says "You Are Here" which points to a microscopic dot on a microscopic dot.

CAT is worse.

Even the most carefree, "Im just taking it for the heck of it", "I had no other plans for the 3rd Sunday of November so .." person who does not remember a single mensuration formula* entertains a secret hope that he has a chance. That he will get The Call. If one is really honest, The Calls.


Come Sunday. The lucky pen which helped pass that atrocious System Security paper is carefully put into the pencil box where it will lie unused. The pencils are examined for that HB mark and pointiness of the writing end. Tea/Coffee is gulped. Prayers are said. The examination centre is reached 1 hour before reporting time. Because you never know with traffic. So what if its 8 a.m. on a lazy Sunday morning? You never know. Seating arrangements are checked. And the wait begins. If you are lucky you have a chatty benchmate or someone around you has a chatty benchmate. Else all you will hear is the sound of old fans whirring. And tall people constantly trying to adjust to the fifth grader's bench.

You wait for the bell. Then you wait for the answer sheet. 15 minutes is spent in filling in your details in those little circles. And then resume waiting. The question paper is distibuted. Safe inside a plastic cover that you are not allowed to open unless they tell you to. You read the instructions. Some people try to squint through the first and last papers to get a glimpse of the questions inside, hoping, perhaps, to gain that crucial edge over others.

The invigilators calmly inform you, " You may open the question paper". You open the page to the section you decided to start with, as part of your strategy. whhaaaaaat? You turn the pages hoping to find a familiar type of question. Panic sets in. You dive in. Before you know it 40 minutes are up. Switch to the next section. They've got to be playing a prank! Lift up the chin n do the best you can. Whhooosh. It's time for the next section. Whooooaaa! 10 minutes left. You look at your answer sheet for a 'holistic view'. The shaded circles are like pathetic flotsam and jetsam in the vast ocean of non-coloured circles, mocking your effort, intelligence and foolish hopes. You bravely try to ensure that the ones you have filled in are like the one with the approving tick mark beside it in the sample answer sheet. Time's up.

My advice to CAT '08 takers: Prepare. Start now! Think out of the box. Colour inside the circles!

* I'm sure the people who did not learn Geometry formulae for CAT '07 are all smug!

Saturday, November 10, 2007

This is a Diwali story. Warning : it has a moral

I've been making rangolis for the last 6 years. Over the years, I thought I'd become pretty good at it. This illusion was fostered by neighbours' and family's compliments. [ I intentionally put neighbours first because they do not have an obligation to be kind and that makes their compliments a little more credible. No offense, mom and dad. I realize it must have taken a lot of effort to appear astounded and terribly interested when I first performed the feat of rhyming love with above.] I didnt think I was professional and never entered in any competition but I still thought I was..you know pretty good at it.

Come Diwali time at the Office and project managers are very busy in the very serious game of one-upmanship of decoration. There cant be too much crepe paper or too many gaudy lanterns. And then of cuorse..there has to be a ...rangoli.So, my PM is in my cubicle [my cubiclemates having fled to their hometowns] conferring with other leads. He's calling the other girls in my team and asking if they know how to make rangoli. He is shouting across the office to ask women. He doesn't even think to turn around and ask me.
Which is why I was compelled, the next day, to volunteer my services to the girl who was in charge of making the Rangoli. Just to stick it to my bosses. Mistake. She really knew what she was doing. She didnt even use chalk to make the outline! I am someone who uses a chalk and duster to make the design. For me, the duster is a very important part in making the design. She, on the other hand, just took the white powder and made the design. It was a beautiful design. Just like that. And then started discussing colour combinations. I usually choose the colour depending on what I have left over from the previous year factoring in the surface to be covered and quantity of colour left. She was talking about brightness and contrast! And then she started filling it in. Fast. I thought, "thats ok..even If I am slow.. mine will be even and ..better". The coloured sand fell obediantly from her fingers, smoothly filling up her part. I looked at my part. It looked more like a frickin landscape in yellow with hills, valleys and the odd crater. She very sweetly did not say anything. But the illusion was shattered. I smiled weakly and went back to work.

The next day, I debated whether to make one outside our home. I had been doing it for 6 years. My sister had been making it before that. Traditions are funny things. They sometimes make you do things you do not particularly want to. Thats not always a bad thing. I brought out the colours, chalk and my trusty duster.
Two hours of listening to Pearl Jam and Pink Floyd later, I was done.
My neighbours came in and complimented it. I smiled artificially. Then some more neigbours complimented. And I wondered why. I saw the rangoli again. I saw the lumps, splotches, the place where my headphones' wire had dipped into the rangoli and which I had tried to cover up. I saw the lack of symmetry, different shades of yellow in the opposite parts which I had hoped to pass off as shading but was actually the yellow colour getting over and being diluted with white. It was certainly not the best. Hardly even good. I wondered why they did it. Compliment it. I went around the building. There were maybe one or two other rangolis. That's it. And I think thats why they did it. To appreciate that someone had made one. To encourage someone to make another one next year. It didnt have to be amazing or colourful or perfect. It was enough that it was *there*.
[This is where I drive in the point if you skipped the previous paragraph] The next time you think "Oh, I could make a better movie than that" or "I can code more efficiently" or " I can do that with my eyes closed" or "I can writter better than that" or "I can sing better than Enrique" : What are you waiting for? Go ahead, do it. Because that other guy? He's actually doing it, making something.

P.S : Here's a pic of my Rangoli :




P.P.S: I *can* sing better than Enrique.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Holiday

I've taken the day off. Ive been looking forward to this day and having fantasies about getting up late, having breakfast and studying. Ok that was one of the fantasies. But it was a recurring one. Since I have an exam in less than a month. Since I am not prepared for it.

This is what actually happened. I woke up from a nightmare about missing the last bus to Thane. I checked the clock. It was 7 am. Hmm. So much for getting up late. Then I fantasised [ you have to adapt] that I would get up and go for a jog on the beach. Ok, a walk. Maybe a stroll? For the last one year my daily exercise routine has comprised running after above mentioned last bus to Thane and breaking the unhealthy monotony of sitting in front of a computer by walking towards the coffee machine. Instead, I turned on the TV. Some people have an aversion to watching TV in the morning saying its not a good way to start one's day. Some others have an aversion to eating sweet, chocolatey things in the morning. I did both. I would even have had a drink except Im not into that sort of stuff. You see, I am a teetotaler. Out of choice. Out of fear that I'd become an addict. Also, out of fear of the things I'd say. Or sing. [ I've forgotten chemical formulae and the poems we learnt in school but the lyrics to Wannabe continue to evade my mind's Garbage Collection]
Then I vegetated. I napped for a while. I logged in and tried to maintain a consistent font across posts. Why wont it happen??!??! Then I watched TV. Went out so that I could get some food. Ordered more food in. And slept.
Ive done nothing. Absolutely nothing. Glorious nothing!

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Adolescent angst of a 23 year-old

I was a loner. I was a loner with a sister as my confidante, companion, philosopher - everything. Then my sister moved across the world.And I became a loner with friends from school. Who became my *very* good friends. And also the reason I thought I could make more friends. College convinced me otherwise. So I resumed my mantle of loner to the tune of Cynical Sam's refrain : I told you so! Then came training. And I met lots of people and made friends. A year later, I am still surprised to discover that they didnt feel the same.
Same damn thing over and over. And I don't learn. I don't think this was quite what Elton John had in mind when he sang "Circle of Life".

Things that make me go "Why you little.."

Its been a long time. When I look at the title of the previous post and the promise it makes, I smile and think how naiive I was. I had thought that the title would oblige me to write a long post..Oh well. Better something than nothing is how I console myself.

Some Things that piss me off :
- People saying "she's not fair but she's cute" or "she's dark but beautiful".If you're being superficial, at least dont be racist.

- Someone wearing the same top as I am. And in a smaller size.
- Lazy people who voulunteer for things and end up not doing them. Know thyself!!
- People who treat their partners like servants. Go get your own glass of water!
- People who let their partners treat them like slaves. Go get some self respect.
- 70 buck soups that contain slivers of vegetables, maybe two atoms thick. Unless Ive wronged those restaurants and when they promise mushroom soup, they actually grind mushrooms into the broth resulting in the lack of appearance of substantial mushrooms.
- People who suck up to the boss. No excuse.
- Vjs and RJs who suffer from logorrhea. To quote from Shamur's modern masterpiece "Let the music play".

- People saying "you South Indians". Go loop up a map - South India is not one amalgamated state.


Please do let me know about the things that tick you off. There's nothing like finding you have a common enemy to fan the flame of friendship.

Friday, May 18, 2007

the short post between long posts

“Picture us on the moon

Happy as a cartoon”


- "My Nutmeg Phantasy" [ Artists: Macy Gray (feat. Angie Stone and Mos Def) (Tom Morello Mix) ]

( Thanks to my currently unemployed friend who I admire and who doesnt need the publicity that I can afford him but nevertheless : Jugal Mody )


I love the lyrics. Through my hardened cynicism and sworn belief in the power of sarcasm, there is something that prevents me from believing that the person is being sardonic, and prevents me from dismissing them as silly fantasy. There is something in the words that makes me adore them. And makes me wish I had come up with them.

Sunday, March 4, 2007

D-DAY

'Twas the night before the deadline. And nothing was stirring. Nothing that was of significance to me, anyway. The damned graph with its red spots sat smugly still. Dangerous red in lieu of the blue that I had grown to love and, maybe, take for granted. But red it was. My heart was pumping away furiously. My brain had shut shop with a 'closed until further notice' sign. My eyes stared at the screen while my fingers typed qwepoiqwepoiqwepoiqwepoiqwepoiqwepoiqwepoi.. though nothing would show for all my typing [because it was readonly, if you must know]. It was calming and more importantly, or perhaps the reason why, it was something to do.

My mind started dredging up those uncomfortable thoughts that I had carefully put away...

What I had written in a "I want to be a..' essay in school. And whether the reason why I wasnt doing what I had written about was a good one. And a 'good' reason would not be "because it is sensible". Even though it could be one of them.
About the 25-25-50 [spend-donate-save] divsion I had planned to do with each salary.
About being nicer.
Doing more things.
About visiting places. Not just see them coutesy Discovery Travel and Living.
About people at work. And how much more complicated colleagues seem as compared to friends. Or maybe the difference is just trust.
How much easier it is to like someone when you dont know too much about them. Also how hard it is to hate someone when you really, really know them.
What motivates people to do some things. Which is the weakest justification? Security? No but whats wrong with that. Security means safety. No, it doesnt. Safety is required. Security isnt. Security is a luxury - but not sinful to strive for either.

All that talk about teamwork during training. Bah, humbug. Its just you and what you've done. But the difference between an exam and work is that with an exam, its only you who get affected. But work, if I dont do it properly not only do I get screwed which is ok if i deserve it but the team gets affected. And thats too much pressure. I try not to think about it but that makes it worse. It is teamwork with its perks filtered out.
About salary. Why I'm working 12 hours with no overtime when my niece who dropped out of college gets more money at a call center. Why are we all just accepting the low salary. Why am I?

How, or if, doing what I want fits into it all. About why the knowledge of what I want, really want still eludes me. Or maybe its there and Im refusing to acknowlede it.
About sharing a sunrise with.. How beautiul sunrises can be. Tantalizingly promising.

How beautiul this sunrise is!
'Twas the day of the deadline. And the graph[see first para if you dont remember and are one of those who needs to know every reference[ If you did actually see the first para, no offense intended, but..why? Also, thanks and hope it was worth it.] ] was not stirring. Nothing . The damned graph with its red spots sat smugly still. Dangerous red in lieu of the blue I loved. Red it was!

I stopped panicking... they were not paying me enough to warrant it.