The Orchard of Banchharam

Saw this play yesterday by Forum Three of Ranjon Ghoshal. Background: Ranjon heard us do our composition at out Annual Day function and seemed quite impressed. Invited us to watch the play and then meet him... and we started dreaming of an opportunity, very much undeserved, to do the score for his next play!

The play: hillarious. Rajeev Gupta, as Banchharam stole the show with his portrayal of the the 95 year old possessive owner of the orchard who wishes to die, live, die, live multiple times through the play, much to the chagrin of Nakori Datta, the landshark, enacted by Nilanjan Choudhury. Srijit Mukherji, the real star of 'The other side of history', which was the previous play of Forum Three, didn't get to do much as Hontka and Kontka Datta. Devaiah has done better as the good-for-nothing emasculated grandson here than as the lead in 'The other side...' I really would have liked to see Anand Ramprasad, Nikhil/Bijoy of 'The other side...' on stage too.
http://forumthree.blogspot.com/2006/01/forum-three-playfest-2006.html

After the play: Of course, Ranjon had no time to meet us. We'll meet sometime early next week is what he said. Hope early is before Friday.

Anyhow, so quite a nice evening we had. Now on to finishing IMD. Have promised myself today's the deadline for submitting the app.

Helping people...

This jet talker with a spanner in his works calls and asks for my advice for the upcoming interview. The other person whose dad works with my dad calls a second time and asks about GMAT after royally buttering me up in the first phone call. Yes, it used to feel good in the beginning but now it's getting on my nerves. I mean I have loads of stuff to finish at work and in those apps... and more than that I have my absent-mindedness and ever-growing sleep requirements to cater to.

Would you believe it... I come to office all set to work with my laptop but without its charger. I go back to get the charger, but come down from my home without the bike key. Very calmly, without cursing myself, because I am at ease with my stupidity, I climb the stairs again. This other guy calls and I help him with the details of how to study for GMAT when I would rather have told him how exactly to make a nice cylinder out of the OG 11th edition and use it more imaginatively. I come down with the key but without my mobile. Now, should I not blame the guy? Of course, I should not... But I will!

Queens Interview call.

Things are happening with me professionally. Got the interview call from Queens for February 2nd. IMD and INSEAD app are on the final stages. If nothing else, the Queens interview will brace me for the other two more demanding ones.

And well, personally, things all around me are straining to not fall apart... Imagine a circle of bamboo sticks stuck in loose soil with me in the center holding one thread that's tied below the middle of each stick. 'twill change, 'twill be better soon... time to sugar-coat the hopes going sour, with another achievement.

ISB Admit!

ISB offered me an admit with scholarship yesterday. Checked the mail after meeting Swati after such a long time and having meaningful conversations about Oncology and heart-aches. I read the whole mail twice, punched the air a couple of times and then settled down calling everyone at home, friends, sms'ing the others, and finally treating the left-over rectens in Bangalore.

Today, I've outgrown the feeling of satisfaction. There's a greater battle to be won. IMD is calling, and I am fiddling with my guitar! Focus, boy, focus...

Have a long way to go, but I know for sure I won't be at Cisco in 2007. And guess what, 12th Jan is coming near! This time there'll be no poetry, but I have bought Vaishu a nice little gift she's bound to like.

Ezzzays...

Almost fell asleep thinking about one of the IMD essays on "What motivated you to apply to IMD MBA?" At other times, I have been, furious, satisfied, thrilled with what I churn out for each of those questions that are meant to plumb the depths of your mind, but in the end, only manage to graze the R-complex, where ambition purportedly resides. So many different emotions can a single essay generate going through multiple iterations after every set of comments...

 

"Analyze any human emotion," said Freud, "no matter how far it may be removed from the sphere of sex, and you are sure to discover somewhere the primal impulse, to which life owes its perpetuation."

 

I'd say the MBA dream is as good as the primal impulse in fostering varied emotions.

 

Advt bloomer

 

Are you suffering from

Depression, Hair Loass, Feeling Excessive Hot!

 

 

Could be because of the

Thyroid dysfunctoion SRL Ranbaxy is organizing

 

Thyroid Detection Camp.

29th-31st December 2005

ISB versus others

I got a jolt when Shanky pointed out that placements at Queens was just a shade better than 60 % even after 3 months of graduation. ISB boasts of cent percent placement. And, to think that Queens was the top-ranked MBA college outside of US in BusinessWeek 2004 rankings!
http://www.businessweek.com/bschools/04/#nonus

INSEAD has a similar story. What I got from one of the contacts "Placements are not like that in India .No day zero, day one placements... It is usually through networking and finding the best fit for self."

Where does this leave my hi-fly dreams? IMD is still tops. Aah, if only I had worked a little longer in States or any goddamn place outside India. International exposure seems a big ticket thing at IMD apps. So, should the order be IMD, INSEAD, ISB, Queens? Or IMD, ISB, INSEAD, Queens?

Kavi - jeevit ab bhi

I don't write stuff in hindi much nowadays, but came up with these - the second one under the effect of the hijr hormones, and the first when challenged to fit lyrics to an existing tune in Raag Desh.

-----------------------------

साँस जमीं थी, चहूँ ओर शिशिर था फूटत नाहीं राग,
C                                                 Dm

आस लगी थी, मास गये घन, आयो आखिर ताज। आयो आखिर ताज।
C                                          Dm                                                C

आयो डार डार बसंत आज

C

काहे फूल फूल जन ना हँसे

Dm
सब शीत मीत खुल ना रचें

Dm
नए प्राण भये भगवान राज।। आयो ।।
      C | G  Dm      C        

साँवरे सजे थे बदरा, के थे श्वेत हिम सघन
C                                           Dm

आज लागे नव धरा को, साफ सुंदर नव गगन
C                                                 Dm

नहीं ऊन धून, के बहार सुन, कर आकुलाए छेड साज आयो
Dm                     G                    G    Dm  C

हरित मास में, त्वरित साँस से, जपता जा ओ कवि,
C                    G                      G                      C

मेघ है नहीं, हेम जा कहीं लापता, आओ रवि
Dm            C                  G                    C

फिर जाग आग बरसा भूमी पर,
Dm

भंग रंग युगल चखें होरी, तर
Dm

वसन मगन तन मन निलाज।। आयो ।।
G          Dm       C

-----------------------------------

जा चला जा बदरा मेघा मोरे के काम का
जाने ना मोरा करजवा जिया,
माने ना मोरा अरजवा जिया,
बिरहा मोरे के काम का
इस बार जो तन के मैं आया देखन
उस पार दर्पण के था कोइ पर जन
मुरदार जड तन पे छिडके है जल घन
आषाढ़ बादल, बेकार सावन
ढ़ाई बरस आराम बीते,
आखर ढ़ाइ भये नाम के

आ नहीं रहे वो हियाँ,
जा नहीं सकूँ हूँ तियाँ
छन बीते दिन बीतत नाहीं,
कौन उन्हें समझाये

Wasn't easy, but I did it!

2 weeks of self-denial. Not a single drop! I think I am rehabilitated. Am I? Naah... come next weekend, and Husher! Husher! all would fall down.

Freakonomics

Started to read the book by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner. Claims to be a book that peels off a layer or two from everyday facets of modern life, and with plain data assessment, no morality, reveal stark new perspectives.

 

"Morality, it could be argued, represents the way that people would like the world to work - whereas economics represents how it actually does work"

Two lives

If all goes well, very soon I may need to create another blog. This blog is too laden with the blood of my heart to make sense as a heartless MBA blog. Reading the previous post with other posts, I wonder if it is the same person writing.

Right-ho, once there was a hiyapods and then there was a sumeetme. My good old story book diary... Find your fire, hiyapods, and go char yourself.

But will I break if I get through none of the colleges? Of course, but I can take them in my stride. My company needs me. It will earn me bread, butter and butter kulchas if all goes into the well.

Bigger than ISB

I started dreaming bigger than ISB. Quite possible that the ISB dream itself fizzles out... when I try to recall a moment during the interview when I shone and impressed, all I see is Mr. Kannan going 'Fair. Quite Fair.' to my (over)estimate of INR 80 mn per month starting revenue for Vodafone in Bangalore.

Anyways, sapne sanjone mein harz nahi. So the dream is IMD, Switzerland. The best of the best according to most websites. And a class strength of juts 90 taken from 45 different Countries! Whoa. That's where I wanna be. But, how? Going through the helpful advices of the guys who're going to be there, doing that next January.

http://forums.businessweek.com/n/pfx/forum.aspx?nav=messages&tsn=171&tid=58198&webtag=bw-bschools

Plan to app to IMD, INSEAD and Queen's. I know, it's a mixed bag. But then, let's give it a shot. Kya pata, kya likha hai!

Cisco Newsletter

Came up with these few lines for the 1st Cisco Newsletter to new campus recruits... for Ashwini. And she said 'Do you think the fresh grads will get this kind of humor?'. A nice way to say 'You're overboard.'

 

"Hark Gladiators! To get through to the Ciscolosseum was a dream harboured by all, but you fought hard, and fought well. Welcome to the mecca of networking. Things happen quick at Cisco, quicker sometimes than it would take an IP packet to go around the planet on our routers. This newsletter would keep you abreast of the latest at Cisco - technology, culture, triva and people. Go ahead, devour the first edition!"

The Forty-two mall

There was a day at the Forum mall, long long ago in my previous life, when after walking, yes walking, up and down the escalators impatiently and then gazing passively for long in random directions on each floor, I reached the top floor and stood by the rail at one of the circles. What I liked here was the loud roar of a thousand quiet voices, which afforded me the chance to speak. And I spoke for a good few minutes to the jolly air-conditioned air and then then I loooked down. The floor, four floors below, seemed inviting, yes inviting.

That was it... that was it. I found the answer to my wrenching question 'how do I live now?' when contemplating how not to. The mall gave me my answer. There was life to live around me, and I willed myself otherwise? 'Oh! Fie, Fie, Fie!' as Isabella dramatically says several times in the 'Measure for Measure' I saw. If nothing, to live was a challenge. I love challenges. Live I did.

I had't been to Forum alone for more than an hour since then. Today I did. Did an encore of acts from that day. I could. It did come back in small doses, but I could! You fought well, boy. Spent some time reading the new management book arrivals at Landmark, and some more time buying stuff for tomorrow's trip to Kabini with Shanky. It's going to be a great weekend! Thanks to the mindless shoppers at Forum.

Mush - left, right, center

Two lovebirds sit on the either side of my office cubicle, cooing away to their dearest's (not each other). It certainly harms my productivity... I don't and don't want to hear all the words, but I do catch the giggles, the elongated helloo's and byeee's, and see-ya-at-so-and-so promises. I put on my headphones sometimes, and then search for the right kind of song... not Beatles, not Elvis, not Bobby Darin, definitely not Sinatra! I generally pick either Dylan or Knopfler (but not Romeo & Juliet), or Indian Ocean (who are more gorillas than orangutans in matters of romance).

 

Love se bachne ke liye saala kuchh bhi karega!

Eighteen Yellow Roses

Heard this mushy song by Bobby Darin. All through, it feels as if it's about a girl cheating on her guy, who is okay with her leaving with someone else. The last line brings in the real meaning, and you go 'Oh shucks, what was I thinking?'. Wonder if Bobby did this little lyric trick on purpose. Most of his other songs are sure about romantic love...

Eighteen yellow roses came today

Eighteen yellow roses in a pretty bouquet

When the boy came to the door, I didn't know what to say

But, Eighteen yellow roses came today

I opened up the card to see what it said

I couldn't believe my eyes when I had read

Though you belong to another, I love you anyway

Yes, Eighteen yellow roses came today

I never doubted your love for a minute

I always thought that you would be true

But now this box and the flowers in it

I guess there's nothing left for me to do.

But ask to meet the boy that's done this thing

And find out if he's got plans to buy you a ring

Cause Eighteen yellow roses will wilt and die one day

But a father's love will never fade away.

Stay away Gray!

I spotted the first grey hair on my chest today. It was all very fine when them roots were merrily losing their melanin up there, but a hairy grey chest is a tell tale sign of senescence. Of course, I am not old. "ये बाल शायद मैनें धूप में ही सफेद किये हैं" What next would these silver strands conquer? Arms? Legs? ... ? I see myself, not long after today, peacefully dressed in white when not dressed at all. Maybe I'll take to dyeing my chest hair. Painstakingly holding each strand and giving it back the artificial youth. Or maybe, I'll shave all of it off... maybe that's why SRK did so too. He's 40. He must've spotted his first grey on his Fauji hairy chest long ago.

Come gray, stay with me. Give me good company, while I say good bye follicle-by-follicle to the fickle black!

Will prayers help?

Being an agnostic is the worst that can happen to someone in a fix. Will ISB happen? I have a Shiva murti at my home I've been carrying with me since I left Baroda back in 1997 for RECT. I do look at it everyday; sometimes i try to close my eyes and pray, but it doesn't feel solemn enough. Sometimes I light an incense to make it better, but it hasn't the same punch as, say, when Mom stands in front of the sandalwood mandir at home. Faith is God and vice versa... and agnostics like me have neither to hold on to. Ok, then I'll find my own way.

Hausla-e-Buland Khuda Razamand

Khudi ko kar buland itna ki har taqdeer se pahle
khuda bande se khud poochhe bata teri raza kya hai

Have the ISB interview today at 12:30 PM. I am not too sure if there is a God up there. Most of my friends who believe have sent in the confirmation that they have prayed for me. Most of my friends who don't have wished me luck. A few important ones have totally forgotten about it. But I know that God, Chance or Friends are not going to help me out there. I am going to be on my own in front of that panel. And going by the single past experience of an interview I have had - Cisco at Campus, I know I can make a mark just by being myself. There's confidence within me to take on individuals and come out as someone who knows what he's talking about. Only when people know me enough do they find out that many a times I just blabber so coherently that it 'seems' good!

The only thing lacking now is a good tie. I had forgotten that most interviews happen in formals. I was banking on the Park Avenue shirt I got on the 22nd. Shanky asked if I have the right tie. I said I don't need one. But turns out everyone wears one. So I rummaged through my jumbo suitcase of old knick knacks and found the cheap ancient tie I used to get through to Cisco. It's not great, but believe it or not, it still fits me! So, I am going to wear it. Goes well with neither the shirt nor the pant, but goes well with me. I had some trouble tying it, and missed dad, the only family member and among the select few Poddars I daresay, who know it well! Got some tips on the net about how to get the dimple at the centre of the knot, and Lo (not Lolita) I am dressed up.

Anyhow, I am on my way. I have to win this one. It's a personal challenge now... Hey, if you're there reading this, don't let me down this time, will you?

Square root of misery

Most pain is self-inflicted and self-healing too says Vaishali. To ask is the beginning of to be denied. Quite possible, but where does the journey end? And where did it begin?
A Beatles song comes to mind "The world's treating me bad, Misery!". And then comes Savage Garden's "Lemon Tree"... Isolation is not good for me. I don't want to sit on a lemon tree.

If Misery gathers interest compounded every second, it should soon be enough to fill my 12x11 room, like the foam Amita sprayed on me, only muddy in color, and smelling downright pungent instead of soapy. What's more, I have my windows closed cause it's cold and raining outside, so none of it shall escape. I picture myself wallowing in the roomful of soft, dull brown Misery, playing with multicoloured balls of memories, flailing my arms around and shouting out like kids in the McDonald's Ball Pit... only thing, the kids are generally happy.

I start to doubt what Vaishali said. Expectations, yes, but there are ideas which one comes to believe in with every ounce of conviction that oozes out of deep emotional recesses. That faith is the square root of Misery.