Been a long time now and before I forget the password and login for this blog as well.. Here goes!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In my hostel room lying down in bed, I was feeling pretty lazy and almost dozing off. It was a warm afternoon and I had no classes and no major delays in any of the umpteen projects. So it was with a total lack of interest and curiosity did I pick up that call from an unknown local number. The caller was male, identified himself and asked for me.
Well I said that it was me speaking and where are you calling from. He said he was calling from the UTI bank and that I have an account there. Yes I did and so what. He then went on to tell me that I had overdrawn by over fifty thousand bucks and when was I planning to pay up including the interest on that amount.
What!!!
I was now upright on my bed and my eyes were wide open. The chap from the bank went on to calmly tell me my room number and hostel and that people from the recovery department would come to speak to me and that I would have received a registered post in that regard. Now I must admit after hearing stories of many reputed banks sending goondas to recover money I was getting a little scared. The caller was polite but firm and was asking me what I intended to do..
Mulling over various possibilities, thinking of uncles who can help.. and generally getting shit scared I heard laughter on the other line. Relief and indignation coursed through me.. I was the victim of a prank!! And in all those remaining days in college I have tried to get even with that supposed "guy from UTI" but he was always one step ahead of me...Until...
The other day I called up a friend of mine asking for his wife's number as I needed to talk to her. He being a good friend told me that I better call her ASAP as she was leaving for Tokyo on an official trip. I needed to speak to her regarding my work and a week's delay could affect things so I punched in her number right away. She picked up on the third ring and asked who was calling.
I said that I was calling from the Japanese consulate and was I talking to Mrs. so and so. Her reply was guarded. Yes I had got the right person and what was this about. I got on into the act. Well madam sorry to convey this to you, but a small issue has come up with the Ministry of Trade and Commerce in Japan regarding your company therefore we are not allowing any executives from your company into Japan. So I am calling you up to let you know that as of now your visa is cancelled and you will be receiving an official written document to that effect shortly.
Total silence and shock. Then a feeble "what?".
I realized I might have made an overkill. Poor girl must have had dreams of visiting Japan for the first time and all that so decided to cut it short and told her that it was poor old me having some fun on her behalf. I guess she must have been pretty mad at me and maybe even happily driven a knife into me if I had been in front of her. Anyway I will know the result only after she comes back from Tokyo which is pretty soon. But nevertheless the wicked deed was finally done!
So after more than four long years of waiting I had finally got even - more or less.. Well you see; this girl who is now in Japan is the wife of my good friend - the "good" friend who called me from UTI bank on that day some four years ago...
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Of Cabbages and Eggs
The time has come,” the Walrus said, “to talk of many things,
Of shoes — and ships — and sealing wax; Of cabbages and kings…”
— Lewis Carroll
The Cabbage is a fine vegetable and said to have a host of medicinal properties. Interestingly the Egyptians believed that eating a lot of this divine vegetable before drinking would help them imbibe more without experiencing any of the side effects.
However it was with no such intention that I thought of preparing cabbage for dinner. And Cabbage is one of the easiest veggies to make. In tamil it is called "Muttai kose" (Muttai in tamil means Egg). Though the etymology of this beats me it got me started off on wondering what would happen if I actually mixed Cabbages and Eggs.
Well so hear goes my version of me can cook:
Go to Thoms bakery in Cox town and pick up a packet of freshly cut cabbages (serves 3 people). Take a 1/4 of this and dump it in a vessel. Keep the remaining back in the fridge making sure you close the pack with a spare rubber band from the collection on the kitchen window sill which you keep just for occassions like these.
Soak the cabbage in water and get that frying pan on to the fire. Douse the pan with oil - use sunflower oil; good for the heart - so says my mom. Take a handful of chopped onions. I have this contraption which my cousin in Chennai got me. Some 50 bucks it costs and chops onions into fine pieces in 5 minutes. All you have to do is peel it, cut it into four pieces, put it into that contraption.
Well enough of promoting the onion cutter. Now saute the onions in the oil for about 2 minutes- since you cant monitor this using a stop watch and stuff unlike the five star chefs just let it simmer till you get bored watching it. You can add some salt and a chilli (either red or green whichever you fancy). Just imagine you are Godzilla tearing a hapless human apart and have a go at the chilli tearing it into three pieces.
Now take the washed cabbage and dump it into the pan. Take 2 cups of water and add to the pan and close it with the designated lid. This is important. Many times I have used just about any lid which my hands can reach and those lids have ended up in the bottom of the pan along with the food.
Well... this is how you prepare cabbage and this is where you pop off from the kitchen to watch Mallika Sherawat dance a duet on TV.
But not for Cabbages and Eggs.
Now instead of Ms. Sherawat, you take an egg out of its cosy corner inside the fridge and unceremoniously crack it open emptying its contents into a clean vessel. Take that fork of yours which you keep to eat cup noodles and beat the egg into a fine batter. Add some salt and pepper and continue to beat it. Forget Mallika Sherawat on TV and keep peeping into the pan.
As the water boils and evaporates the cabbage gets cooked. Towards the end dump the whipped egg into the pan and using the wooden spatula nicely mix it into the cabbage.. 2 to 3 minutes of this - just an arbitary calculation as I didnt have a stop watch to record the time. Generally when all the water has evaporated, the egg is also nicely cooked and you can take it off the fire.
And there you have the yummy Cabbages and Eggs or the C and the E for short. Goes absolutely soooper with Rice and Vatha Kulambu. All this hardly takes 30 minutes so you can drop in any time to savour the C and the E.
And now since we have had the C...we can see if the Egyptians were right after all! ;-)
Of shoes — and ships — and sealing wax; Of cabbages and kings…”
— Lewis Carroll
The Cabbage is a fine vegetable and said to have a host of medicinal properties. Interestingly the Egyptians believed that eating a lot of this divine vegetable before drinking would help them imbibe more without experiencing any of the side effects.
However it was with no such intention that I thought of preparing cabbage for dinner. And Cabbage is one of the easiest veggies to make. In tamil it is called "Muttai kose" (Muttai in tamil means Egg). Though the etymology of this beats me it got me started off on wondering what would happen if I actually mixed Cabbages and Eggs.
Well so hear goes my version of me can cook:
Go to Thoms bakery in Cox town and pick up a packet of freshly cut cabbages (serves 3 people). Take a 1/4 of this and dump it in a vessel. Keep the remaining back in the fridge making sure you close the pack with a spare rubber band from the collection on the kitchen window sill which you keep just for occassions like these.
Soak the cabbage in water and get that frying pan on to the fire. Douse the pan with oil - use sunflower oil; good for the heart - so says my mom. Take a handful of chopped onions. I have this contraption which my cousin in Chennai got me. Some 50 bucks it costs and chops onions into fine pieces in 5 minutes. All you have to do is peel it, cut it into four pieces, put it into that contraption.
Well enough of promoting the onion cutter. Now saute the onions in the oil for about 2 minutes- since you cant monitor this using a stop watch and stuff unlike the five star chefs just let it simmer till you get bored watching it. You can add some salt and a chilli (either red or green whichever you fancy). Just imagine you are Godzilla tearing a hapless human apart and have a go at the chilli tearing it into three pieces.
Now take the washed cabbage and dump it into the pan. Take 2 cups of water and add to the pan and close it with the designated lid. This is important. Many times I have used just about any lid which my hands can reach and those lids have ended up in the bottom of the pan along with the food.
Well... this is how you prepare cabbage and this is where you pop off from the kitchen to watch Mallika Sherawat dance a duet on TV.
But not for Cabbages and Eggs.
Now instead of Ms. Sherawat, you take an egg out of its cosy corner inside the fridge and unceremoniously crack it open emptying its contents into a clean vessel. Take that fork of yours which you keep to eat cup noodles and beat the egg into a fine batter. Add some salt and pepper and continue to beat it. Forget Mallika Sherawat on TV and keep peeping into the pan.
As the water boils and evaporates the cabbage gets cooked. Towards the end dump the whipped egg into the pan and using the wooden spatula nicely mix it into the cabbage.. 2 to 3 minutes of this - just an arbitary calculation as I didnt have a stop watch to record the time. Generally when all the water has evaporated, the egg is also nicely cooked and you can take it off the fire.
And there you have the yummy Cabbages and Eggs or the C and the E for short. Goes absolutely soooper with Rice and Vatha Kulambu. All this hardly takes 30 minutes so you can drop in any time to savour the C and the E.
And now since we have had the C...we can see if the Egyptians were right after all! ;-)
Friday, June 27, 2008
The Angel
Not so long ago...
The late evening traffic moved at a leisurely pace. The honking,sounds of the vehicles, of people shouting, calling to one another wafted across the streets to the white hospital building.. crossed the yard and climbed the wall and let itself into his room on the third floor.
The Boy recognized the sounds. Late evening traffic so different from the hurried honking and the urgency of the morning traffic. The Boy knew all the sounds that came in through his window.
Early morning - the twittering of birds, milk man's bells as he made the rounds then the rush hour traffic, a relative quietness in the afternoons, school children's shouts and laughter in the early evenings,then the evening traffic and then the stillness of the night.
The nights were what he feared the most. The absence of activity within the hospital. No doctors rushing around. No one to help if anything went wrong.
The Boy and the Mother were alone in the room. The doctor had just made his last rounds of the day and the nurses had moved to their station. Two more days to go and twenty more bottles left. The boy made a mental calculation as he watched the medicine go drip drip drip to his vein through the IV injection.
These medecines had to be diluted and injected through the intra venous drip - continously for five days.
Five days - the boy had to lie still in the bed except for small toilet breaks. Five days of the continous drip drip drip.
The veins cannot take this continous flow. They would suddenly fail and there would be the familiar sharp pain as the needle hit a muscle.
Usually one hand - all the visible veins in that hand - would last 2 days. The third day they would shift it to his next hand while they bandaged his other hand. Fifth day they would go with whatever veins seemed strong in either hand.
Now the third day. The Boy's left hand was swathed in bandages - not a single vein left to poke a needle. The right hand was doing well so far. Few veins were out and it was becoming difficult to find the smaller ones.
Drip Drip..The mother stroked her son's forehead and humming a song she dozed off. Tired from the exertions of the day.
It must have been past midnight. The Boy was just going to sleep when the sharp pain of needle hitting muscle shook him awake. The vein had failed. Panic filled the boy. The mother was awake. Still so much more of the medicine to go in.
The Mother was worried but she did not show it. We'll find a vein she said. But the Boy was scared. Midnight. No doctors.
The Mother was also a doctor but this was tough and not in her line of work. She took a new needle searched the boy's arm and found a small vein. She slipped it in. Whether it was the fear in the boy or maybe the vein itself was too small..it collapsed. The sharp pain again. The Boy broke down.
No more. No more needles.
Now the mother was also worried.The medecine had to go in. And if they wait for the doctor they would loose 5-6 hours. Panic started to buildup in the room. The Boy was adamant. Take off the medecines. No more needles. The Mother was helpless and alone.
She needed an Angel. She prayed for one.
Dear God send me an Angel. Please send me an Angel to help us through this night. An angel dear God... the mother prayed.
And she opened one more needle. The Boy after much coaxing showed his arm. The Mother found no veins. Soon one small vein was pulsating - a difficult spot on the arm. The needle went in. Collapse. The sharp pain. The Boy was getting hysterical.
The poor Mother was distraught and alone. She knew the staff nurses. They did not have the expertise to slip a needle into a veinless hand such as her son's. No doctors were available now. She was distraught. What could she do?
She prayed again..for an Angel to help her.
2 AM - the duty nurses came in for their routine check. There was a new nurse. Not too young and with a smiling face. The Mother explained what had happened. The worry showed on their faces as well.
The new nurse said she will try to find a vein. The Boy went hysterical again. Even the mother was not confident. The nurse asked the boy just to show his hand.
Soon she found a vein. She took a needle. Talking gently to the boy she slowly put in the needle. The mother could not look. They waited.. the Boy was waiting for the sharp pain. None came. The medecine started flowing. The needle was in.
The Mother wept tears of joy. The boy gradually fell asleep. Thank you so much sister said the Mother as she hugged that new nurse. Whats your name?
"My name" said the smiling nurse "is Sister Angel"
Did you know... God does answer prayers.
.
The late evening traffic moved at a leisurely pace. The honking,sounds of the vehicles, of people shouting, calling to one another wafted across the streets to the white hospital building.. crossed the yard and climbed the wall and let itself into his room on the third floor.
The Boy recognized the sounds. Late evening traffic so different from the hurried honking and the urgency of the morning traffic. The Boy knew all the sounds that came in through his window.
Early morning - the twittering of birds, milk man's bells as he made the rounds then the rush hour traffic, a relative quietness in the afternoons, school children's shouts and laughter in the early evenings,then the evening traffic and then the stillness of the night.
The nights were what he feared the most. The absence of activity within the hospital. No doctors rushing around. No one to help if anything went wrong.
The Boy and the Mother were alone in the room. The doctor had just made his last rounds of the day and the nurses had moved to their station. Two more days to go and twenty more bottles left. The boy made a mental calculation as he watched the medicine go drip drip drip to his vein through the IV injection.
These medecines had to be diluted and injected through the intra venous drip - continously for five days.
Five days - the boy had to lie still in the bed except for small toilet breaks. Five days of the continous drip drip drip.
The veins cannot take this continous flow. They would suddenly fail and there would be the familiar sharp pain as the needle hit a muscle.
Usually one hand - all the visible veins in that hand - would last 2 days. The third day they would shift it to his next hand while they bandaged his other hand. Fifth day they would go with whatever veins seemed strong in either hand.
Now the third day. The Boy's left hand was swathed in bandages - not a single vein left to poke a needle. The right hand was doing well so far. Few veins were out and it was becoming difficult to find the smaller ones.
Drip Drip..The mother stroked her son's forehead and humming a song she dozed off. Tired from the exertions of the day.
It must have been past midnight. The Boy was just going to sleep when the sharp pain of needle hitting muscle shook him awake. The vein had failed. Panic filled the boy. The mother was awake. Still so much more of the medicine to go in.
The Mother was worried but she did not show it. We'll find a vein she said. But the Boy was scared. Midnight. No doctors.
The Mother was also a doctor but this was tough and not in her line of work. She took a new needle searched the boy's arm and found a small vein. She slipped it in. Whether it was the fear in the boy or maybe the vein itself was too small..it collapsed. The sharp pain again. The Boy broke down.
No more. No more needles.
Now the mother was also worried.The medecine had to go in. And if they wait for the doctor they would loose 5-6 hours. Panic started to buildup in the room. The Boy was adamant. Take off the medecines. No more needles. The Mother was helpless and alone.
She needed an Angel. She prayed for one.
Dear God send me an Angel. Please send me an Angel to help us through this night. An angel dear God... the mother prayed.
And she opened one more needle. The Boy after much coaxing showed his arm. The Mother found no veins. Soon one small vein was pulsating - a difficult spot on the arm. The needle went in. Collapse. The sharp pain. The Boy was getting hysterical.
The poor Mother was distraught and alone. She knew the staff nurses. They did not have the expertise to slip a needle into a veinless hand such as her son's. No doctors were available now. She was distraught. What could she do?
She prayed again..for an Angel to help her.
2 AM - the duty nurses came in for their routine check. There was a new nurse. Not too young and with a smiling face. The Mother explained what had happened. The worry showed on their faces as well.
The new nurse said she will try to find a vein. The Boy went hysterical again. Even the mother was not confident. The nurse asked the boy just to show his hand.
Soon she found a vein. She took a needle. Talking gently to the boy she slowly put in the needle. The mother could not look. They waited.. the Boy was waiting for the sharp pain. None came. The medecine started flowing. The needle was in.
The Mother wept tears of joy. The boy gradually fell asleep. Thank you so much sister said the Mother as she hugged that new nurse. Whats your name?
"My name" said the smiling nurse "is Sister Angel"
Did you know... God does answer prayers.
.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Jaggism
Whats your name?
Where do you come from?
How would you rate our company on a scale of 1 to 10
Why the rating
Do you have any questions (The bored looking interviewer would begin closing the file)
Next candidate please.
And so on.. this was the second round of the "unique" recruiting process of a consulting firm designed to "strain the best of the best"
First round - resume shortlisting.
I didnt make it. Jaggi did. I was of course jealous.
Second round - Was this dumb mini interview:
1. Whats your name?
2. Where do you come from?
3. How would you rate our company on a scale of 1 to 10
4. Why the rating
5. Do you have any questions - begin closing the file
6. Next candidate please.
The expressionless interviewer went about it like clockwork. Nothing my classmates tried or said impressed him. Nothing.. till Jaggi walked in.
Last weekend Jaggi decided to pay me and Bangalore a visit.
Jaggi is a jolly sardar and my classmate from SIMSR. On June 1st 2004 me and Jaggi started our careers in the same company (not this consulting firm of course).
And May 31st 2008 - (the chennai vs Punjab semi final on giant screen) seemed the perfect way to celebrate 4 years in the rat race and relive those moments. (Yes Chennai trounced Punjab and Jaggi paid the bill!!)
Placement season was on. Some 4 and a half years back. Jaggi and me had the noble dream of becoming management consultants - a dream shared by 99.99% of our class. So there was a mad scramble when this one small time management consulting firm came to our campus with their "unique" recruiting process.
Name.. Where? Rating? Why the rating?
Any questions? no? file close.. Next!
and so on in a mechanical cyclic loop till Jaggi walked in.
Jaggi goes through all the standard questions with standard answers.
Name, where? How would you rate? Why the rating?
The interviewer goes on mechanically.
Any questions? Next candi.. Yes Sir, I have a question - Jaggi all bright and clear.
Interviewer is midly surprised. He has stopped turning over the file.
His ears perk up. Has he heard correctly? This was not supposed to happen. The candidate was supposed to say no and move out.
But! This was Jaggi. Smiling face, bearded and turbanned right in front of him with a question on his lips.
Ok go ahead says the interviewer expecting some smart ass question on the global economy and its effect on consulting.
Sir begins Jaggi his smile widening..
"How would YOU rate your company?"
WHAT???
The interviewer is aghast. First time someone else has asked him this question.
Jaggi is still smiling waiting for the answer.
Well...er hmm the interviewer recovers.. well I'd give it a 7 and sighs with relief and starts to put things away that this unpleasant episode is finally getting over and he can get back to his precious schedule.
But Jaggi is not done yet.
Sir he goes on in all seriousness.. Sir but why this rating?
They say that that the interviewer never fully recovered after this fateful day. Some wild reports say that the interviewer came running out of the hall and refused to interview anyone again in his life.
And our juniors say that this was the last time this uppity consulting firm ever came to our campus.
Later that day in the canteen we all had a good laugh about it.
Jaggi's similiar advertures or rather misadventures were so common in college that we had to coin a new word to describe them. This word is faithfully filed in our college year book for posterity under the "ABC of the batch of 2004" as - J for JAGGISM.
Come home one day and I'll show you :)
Where do you come from?
How would you rate our company on a scale of 1 to 10
Why the rating
Do you have any questions (The bored looking interviewer would begin closing the file)
Next candidate please.
And so on.. this was the second round of the "unique" recruiting process of a consulting firm designed to "strain the best of the best"
First round - resume shortlisting.
I didnt make it. Jaggi did. I was of course jealous.
Second round - Was this dumb mini interview:
1. Whats your name?
2. Where do you come from?
3. How would you rate our company on a scale of 1 to 10
4. Why the rating
5. Do you have any questions - begin closing the file
6. Next candidate please.
The expressionless interviewer went about it like clockwork. Nothing my classmates tried or said impressed him. Nothing.. till Jaggi walked in.
Last weekend Jaggi decided to pay me and Bangalore a visit.
Jaggi is a jolly sardar and my classmate from SIMSR. On June 1st 2004 me and Jaggi started our careers in the same company (not this consulting firm of course).
And May 31st 2008 - (the chennai vs Punjab semi final on giant screen) seemed the perfect way to celebrate 4 years in the rat race and relive those moments. (Yes Chennai trounced Punjab and Jaggi paid the bill!!)
Placement season was on. Some 4 and a half years back. Jaggi and me had the noble dream of becoming management consultants - a dream shared by 99.99% of our class. So there was a mad scramble when this one small time management consulting firm came to our campus with their "unique" recruiting process.
Name.. Where? Rating? Why the rating?
Any questions? no? file close.. Next!
and so on in a mechanical cyclic loop till Jaggi walked in.
Jaggi goes through all the standard questions with standard answers.
Name, where? How would you rate? Why the rating?
The interviewer goes on mechanically.
Any questions? Next candi.. Yes Sir, I have a question - Jaggi all bright and clear.
Interviewer is midly surprised. He has stopped turning over the file.
His ears perk up. Has he heard correctly? This was not supposed to happen. The candidate was supposed to say no and move out.
But! This was Jaggi. Smiling face, bearded and turbanned right in front of him with a question on his lips.
Ok go ahead says the interviewer expecting some smart ass question on the global economy and its effect on consulting.
Sir begins Jaggi his smile widening..
"How would YOU rate your company?"
WHAT???
The interviewer is aghast. First time someone else has asked him this question.
Jaggi is still smiling waiting for the answer.
Well...er hmm the interviewer recovers.. well I'd give it a 7 and sighs with relief and starts to put things away that this unpleasant episode is finally getting over and he can get back to his precious schedule.
But Jaggi is not done yet.
Sir he goes on in all seriousness.. Sir but why this rating?
They say that that the interviewer never fully recovered after this fateful day. Some wild reports say that the interviewer came running out of the hall and refused to interview anyone again in his life.
And our juniors say that this was the last time this uppity consulting firm ever came to our campus.
Later that day in the canteen we all had a good laugh about it.
Jaggi's similiar advertures or rather misadventures were so common in college that we had to coin a new word to describe them. This word is faithfully filed in our college year book for posterity under the "ABC of the batch of 2004" as - J for JAGGISM.
Come home one day and I'll show you :)
Thursday, May 22, 2008
My Secret Life
I was a failure.
I was demoted. Brought down in the ranks. Removed of my weapons.
As a last chance I was given the task of kidnapping and brining an informer to book. I felt vulnerable without weapons but this was child's play for an experienced assasin like me. Within a few hours I had brought the villain to the brotherhood's headquarters.
Having redeemed myself a little I was given back my sword and my favourite short spring loaded knife which lies hidden in the wrist and springs out when a button is pressed - Click - A quick thrust to the heart with one hand over the mouth and no one knows a murder has been committed except you and the victim.
The next mission was to go to Damascus and eliminate a trouble maker. Well no one knew who he was and my first point of contact was the bureau chief in Damascus.
Driving my horse hard I soon reached the splendid city of Damascus. Dismounting, I saw a soldier harassing a poor woman. My sword made quick work of him. The woman was relieved and promised to help me if she could. I never know from when I might need help.
The great city of Damascus - the gates were open but heavily guarded.
A group of monks were slowly making their way in. I ran and hid in their midst, walking slowly with them. The guards waved us through. I was in. Now to make contact.
The bureau was well hidden. I cannot tell you where the secret door is for fear of jeopardizing the brotherhood. The bureau chief was a fool. He taunted me for failing in my last major assignment. Bad news travels fast. I wanted to hit him but he had important information for me. I needed to get the whearabouts and if possible the identity of this mysterious trouble maker in Damascus from a city low life who dealt with him.
Sure enough this guy was acting all smart in the city. I followed him to a quiet corner and beat the hell out of him. He soon confessed what he knew. This villain we were after controlled a souk in Damascus and was profiting through a highly illegal weapons trade. Having got the information I needed - a click - my short knife was out. No one noticed as I laid the dead body gently to the ground and made my way back to that fool of a bureau chief. He can now eat his words - I got the information we needed from his city within an hour of my arrival and he was bureau chief! Bah!
Having got directions to the Souk I made my way there blending in with the crowd. I reached the souk just in time to see the villain publicly slash a poor servant of his to death. I was enraged. With my eye on him I stealthily moved closer.
Damn! A beggar woman.
Blocking my way and making a ruckus for alms. We were beginning to draw attention and she would not move though I pushed her. She was getting louder. Only one way now - Click - The beggar woman got more than she bargained for.
I edged closer to my target.
Click
But he was sharp. He heard the sound and knew what it was. His hand went to his sword and his eyes moved looking for the source of the sound. But I was one of the best for nothing. WIth a speed faster than light I moved in and before his sword left the scabbard my knife was buried in his heart.
I had cleared my first major mission.
The next they told me was in Jerusalem but it was 3 AM already.
Oops! Time to sleep. I began to shut down the system.. but wait.. maybe I should make one attempt to enter Jerusalem and scout the area. What say? ;)
And so pass my nights as I play an expert assasin in this awesome computer generated world of 'Assasin's Creed'.
You are welcome to this world!
I was demoted. Brought down in the ranks. Removed of my weapons.
As a last chance I was given the task of kidnapping and brining an informer to book. I felt vulnerable without weapons but this was child's play for an experienced assasin like me. Within a few hours I had brought the villain to the brotherhood's headquarters.
Having redeemed myself a little I was given back my sword and my favourite short spring loaded knife which lies hidden in the wrist and springs out when a button is pressed - Click - A quick thrust to the heart with one hand over the mouth and no one knows a murder has been committed except you and the victim.
The next mission was to go to Damascus and eliminate a trouble maker. Well no one knew who he was and my first point of contact was the bureau chief in Damascus.
Driving my horse hard I soon reached the splendid city of Damascus. Dismounting, I saw a soldier harassing a poor woman. My sword made quick work of him. The woman was relieved and promised to help me if she could. I never know from when I might need help.
The great city of Damascus - the gates were open but heavily guarded.
A group of monks were slowly making their way in. I ran and hid in their midst, walking slowly with them. The guards waved us through. I was in. Now to make contact.
The bureau was well hidden. I cannot tell you where the secret door is for fear of jeopardizing the brotherhood. The bureau chief was a fool. He taunted me for failing in my last major assignment. Bad news travels fast. I wanted to hit him but he had important information for me. I needed to get the whearabouts and if possible the identity of this mysterious trouble maker in Damascus from a city low life who dealt with him.
Sure enough this guy was acting all smart in the city. I followed him to a quiet corner and beat the hell out of him. He soon confessed what he knew. This villain we were after controlled a souk in Damascus and was profiting through a highly illegal weapons trade. Having got the information I needed - a click - my short knife was out. No one noticed as I laid the dead body gently to the ground and made my way back to that fool of a bureau chief. He can now eat his words - I got the information we needed from his city within an hour of my arrival and he was bureau chief! Bah!
Having got directions to the Souk I made my way there blending in with the crowd. I reached the souk just in time to see the villain publicly slash a poor servant of his to death. I was enraged. With my eye on him I stealthily moved closer.
Damn! A beggar woman.
Blocking my way and making a ruckus for alms. We were beginning to draw attention and she would not move though I pushed her. She was getting louder. Only one way now - Click - The beggar woman got more than she bargained for.
I edged closer to my target.
Click
But he was sharp. He heard the sound and knew what it was. His hand went to his sword and his eyes moved looking for the source of the sound. But I was one of the best for nothing. WIth a speed faster than light I moved in and before his sword left the scabbard my knife was buried in his heart.
I had cleared my first major mission.
The next they told me was in Jerusalem but it was 3 AM already.
Oops! Time to sleep. I began to shut down the system.. but wait.. maybe I should make one attempt to enter Jerusalem and scout the area. What say? ;)
And so pass my nights as I play an expert assasin in this awesome computer generated world of 'Assasin's Creed'.
You are welcome to this world!
Monday, May 5, 2008
Beating Clausewitz
General Von Clausewitz was a German (Prussian to be more exact) Military thinker. He roamed this planet somewhere in the early 1800s, fought a few wars and then went on to write a book "On War" - a treatise on military strategy and warfare. He was considered one of the best strategists of all time and his ideas and theories debated and revered. Now in the late 1990s people realised that business was also similiar to war if not worse and decided to apply his ideas to corporate warfare.
The result - it became part of MBA course work in 2002 and our first test as fresh MBA students.
Normally the first few days of class are relaxed. You would have introduced yourself umpteen times to your classmates and listened to them as well as they talk about their hobbies and why they joined MBA.
But then in came our Strategy professor and scared the hell out of us.
For starters he said being on time is late, being ten minutes early is on time and he would be in class ten minutes before and shut the door. He gave two hoots to using the Queen's english and peppered his lectures with the choicest abuses - the majority of which were directed at the hapless Strategy managers of multi national corporations.
"Do you buggers know Clausewitz?" he thundered at us. Obviously we were clueless and looked uncomfortably at each other. "You buggers are useless, do a book review of Clausewitz on strategy. It should be on A4 sheets Times New Roman font, size 14 and single line spacing and submit it by next week" and with that he stormed out.
It took us two full minutes to recover.
The next few days passed peacefully. Other classes - introductions, interests, hobbies. Life was peaceful and we forgot Clausewitz and his strategies till one of our more studious classmates rushed in one day announcing that this Clausewitz book was some 500 odd pages and looked big enough to be used for a pillow.
A collective gasp went up.
Just a few more days to go before he would come again and abuse us all. Wait. THere was more bad news. There was only one copy in the whole of our library (our library had the distinction of being one of the biggest B school libraries in Mumbai - thanks to our strat professor again). Well more bad news. That one copy was in the reference section - that meant it cannot be taken out.
It took only a split second for all us future managers to take that single selfish decision - Be the first to get the book!There was a mass stampede towards the library. The librarian must have had so many students inside the library for the first time in her long career.
Two days later..
In walked our professor ten minutes early. We learnt fast. We were all in before him. He looked at all of us. "I must say you blokes are all pretty decent. Some pretty good reviews and all of you had done it quite well really." He was clearly surprised.
Little did he know how we put one over him and over our dear General Von Clausewitz.
One day earlier....
The year 2002, internet in India was in its infancy. Our computer lab had about 60 odd computers for over 200 students and the internet was mainly used for email so the lab was never crowded. But this day it was crowded by the students from the illustrious batch of 2002.
Sites visited - amazon, firstandsecond, oxfordbookstore;
key words searched - reviews on "Clausewitz on Strategy".
Beautifully edited so that no one, not even the original review writers could make out we had plagiarised their words we set it to Times New Roman, size 14, single line spacing and dutifully submitted the same just before the deadline.
The result - it became part of MBA course work in 2002 and our first test as fresh MBA students.
Normally the first few days of class are relaxed. You would have introduced yourself umpteen times to your classmates and listened to them as well as they talk about their hobbies and why they joined MBA.
But then in came our Strategy professor and scared the hell out of us.
For starters he said being on time is late, being ten minutes early is on time and he would be in class ten minutes before and shut the door. He gave two hoots to using the Queen's english and peppered his lectures with the choicest abuses - the majority of which were directed at the hapless Strategy managers of multi national corporations.
"Do you buggers know Clausewitz?" he thundered at us. Obviously we were clueless and looked uncomfortably at each other. "You buggers are useless, do a book review of Clausewitz on strategy. It should be on A4 sheets Times New Roman font, size 14 and single line spacing and submit it by next week" and with that he stormed out.
It took us two full minutes to recover.
The next few days passed peacefully. Other classes - introductions, interests, hobbies. Life was peaceful and we forgot Clausewitz and his strategies till one of our more studious classmates rushed in one day announcing that this Clausewitz book was some 500 odd pages and looked big enough to be used for a pillow.
A collective gasp went up.
Just a few more days to go before he would come again and abuse us all. Wait. THere was more bad news. There was only one copy in the whole of our library (our library had the distinction of being one of the biggest B school libraries in Mumbai - thanks to our strat professor again). Well more bad news. That one copy was in the reference section - that meant it cannot be taken out.
It took only a split second for all us future managers to take that single selfish decision - Be the first to get the book!There was a mass stampede towards the library. The librarian must have had so many students inside the library for the first time in her long career.
Two days later..
In walked our professor ten minutes early. We learnt fast. We were all in before him. He looked at all of us. "I must say you blokes are all pretty decent. Some pretty good reviews and all of you had done it quite well really." He was clearly surprised.
Little did he know how we put one over him and over our dear General Von Clausewitz.
One day earlier....
The year 2002, internet in India was in its infancy. Our computer lab had about 60 odd computers for over 200 students and the internet was mainly used for email so the lab was never crowded. But this day it was crowded by the students from the illustrious batch of 2002.
Sites visited - amazon, firstandsecond, oxfordbookstore;
key words searched - reviews on "Clausewitz on Strategy".
Beautifully edited so that no one, not even the original review writers could make out we had plagiarised their words we set it to Times New Roman, size 14, single line spacing and dutifully submitted the same just before the deadline.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Curse of the Alchemist
"The Alchemist" is someone who has mastered Alchemy - the science of converting base metals into gold. It is also the name of one of Paulo Coelho's novels - possibly his best. The novel is a slim book and tells the simple story of a boy in search of treasure he dreams about in simple language and peppered with simple thoughts that makes you think without being preachy.
Paulo Coelho's hero is an young Spanish (or Andalusian to be more exact) shepherd boy - Santiago who once dreams of treasures near the Pyramids. Unlike most of us who see a dream but lack the guts to follow it, this shepherd dude embarks on a journey into the unknown with only his dream to guide him.
She was tall, fair and had a sharp brain. She was my classmate, a telugu but been in Tamil Nadu for years and was more a Tamilian than Telugu. Summer projects was on and we were both in sweltering hot but lovely Chennai in the peak of summer.
Since we were one of the few people in our batch in Chennai we met frequently. Having similiar interests, tastes in books and music we became close. Biweekly meetings in coffee shops became more frequent and I began to look forward to those meetings and I has the feeling that she too felt the same (always the optimist am I).
On one such meeting we were discussing the various books we liked and we were pleasantly surprised that we liked the same books for the same reasons. So I was surprised when she said that she has never read the "Alchemist". I decided then and there that I would gift her the Alchemist - a not too expensive book and just right for a casual gift.
I stocked up on a couple of "Alchemists" (that time I never realised that it had a powerful curse else would not have even considered touching them leave alone buy two). And the next time we met I presented her one. She was happy and I hope a little touched as well (I said am an optimisit right). After an hour and half of coffee, laughter and happiness we parted.
The next time we met again,she said she had finished the book and yes it was too good. We were chatting as usual and a chance remark by me touched her to the quick. Usually it would have passed but not today. It became a heated argument. Voices were raised. People started turning around. My attempts to placate her were futile. The curse was just too powerful. She got up and stormed out.
Our relationship was never the same again. I never knew the reason behind our relationship suddenly hitting a downward curve.
She was tall, dark and had very expressive eyes.. (oh man those eyes again). It was the first day of the second year in college. Our juniors were being paraded on stage. Introducing themselves, singing songs and fielding weird questions about their personal lives from all of us seniors. I learnt that she was a Bengali.
I didnt know Bengali and I didnt know Hindi. She didnt know Tamil but we knew English and thanks to that language I managed to make an impression on the Bong beauty. We used to catch up in the canteen, library and discuss stuff which could range from Rabindra Sangeet to Marketing strategy. And yes I could talk on all these subjects and was also part of the college quizzing team. We won quite a few quizzes which again duly impressed her.
Soon we had progressed from meeting in the college to meeting after classes in Cafe Coffee Day (CCD for short). This kind of became a weekly routine, meeting up every weekend at the CCD so much so that the management gave us a "membership card" of sorts that entitled us to a 10% discount every time we went there.
The extra "Alchemist" I had got during my summers was still lying in my cupboard. Her birthday was approaching and I put 2 and 2 together and came to the logical conclusion that I could gift her this classic. It was her treat that day at CCD. I gave her the book. She was happy and she even sang a few lines of a Bengali song for me in the crowded cafe. That evening a I walked back to my hostel, I was wondering how cultural differences could be sorted out in a family function invovling bengali and tamil members (You would say am a little too optimistic).
Next weekend came and my calls to her were unanswered. Our usual time for our rendezvous at CCD was fast approaching. Kept trying her number. No response. Desperate now. Tried again. Switched off. It was like a slap. So spent a lonely weekend.
Even the next day she did not bother to return my calls. I was hurt and upset. I knew I would meet her at some point in college and was wondering how I should react if I saw her. And soon enough I saw her rushing to her class. She flashed a radiant smile at me and said she wanted to tell me something and to meet her at the CCD later that evening.
Wow. This looked good and I could not wait for evening to come. And yes being the optimist I had scripted a dialogue which involved a lot of.. well very optimistic things.
At the CCD, she told me she had read the Alchemist and what a great book it was and this weekend she met someone. "Someone" - now this was not in the script I had dreamt about in class. And she ploughed on that it is more likely that she has met the "someone" of her dreams and was wondering how to tell her parents..I did not know what all she said but gathered that she wanted me to be the first person to know as it was me who gave her a wonderful book and opened her eyes to the fact that she should follow her dreams.
That was when I realised the curse of the Alchemist - A nicely progressing relationship.. Give the girl a copy of the Alchemist.. and within a week watch the relationship crumble around you.
Even now while browsing in a book store, I see the Alchemist, a shudder sometimes passes through me - the curse of the Alchemist??
Towards the end of my college term I met this sweet girl (yes she has the most mesmerizing pair of eyes I have ever seen). We smsed each other a lot,thanks to Aircel giving us free SMS packages. But never once in the million coversations we had did I ever mention the Alchemist...nor did I even consider lending her a copy of the Alchemist and nor do I intend to..
I dont know if the curse affects only me but I dont have the guts to experiment again.
Maybe you could try it and let me know!!
Paulo Coelho's hero is an young Spanish (or Andalusian to be more exact) shepherd boy - Santiago who once dreams of treasures near the Pyramids. Unlike most of us who see a dream but lack the guts to follow it, this shepherd dude embarks on a journey into the unknown with only his dream to guide him.
She was tall, fair and had a sharp brain. She was my classmate, a telugu but been in Tamil Nadu for years and was more a Tamilian than Telugu. Summer projects was on and we were both in sweltering hot but lovely Chennai in the peak of summer.
Since we were one of the few people in our batch in Chennai we met frequently. Having similiar interests, tastes in books and music we became close. Biweekly meetings in coffee shops became more frequent and I began to look forward to those meetings and I has the feeling that she too felt the same (always the optimist am I).
On one such meeting we were discussing the various books we liked and we were pleasantly surprised that we liked the same books for the same reasons. So I was surprised when she said that she has never read the "Alchemist". I decided then and there that I would gift her the Alchemist - a not too expensive book and just right for a casual gift.
I stocked up on a couple of "Alchemists" (that time I never realised that it had a powerful curse else would not have even considered touching them leave alone buy two). And the next time we met I presented her one. She was happy and I hope a little touched as well (I said am an optimisit right). After an hour and half of coffee, laughter and happiness we parted.
The next time we met again,she said she had finished the book and yes it was too good. We were chatting as usual and a chance remark by me touched her to the quick. Usually it would have passed but not today. It became a heated argument. Voices were raised. People started turning around. My attempts to placate her were futile. The curse was just too powerful. She got up and stormed out.
Our relationship was never the same again. I never knew the reason behind our relationship suddenly hitting a downward curve.
She was tall, dark and had very expressive eyes.. (oh man those eyes again). It was the first day of the second year in college. Our juniors were being paraded on stage. Introducing themselves, singing songs and fielding weird questions about their personal lives from all of us seniors. I learnt that she was a Bengali.
I didnt know Bengali and I didnt know Hindi. She didnt know Tamil but we knew English and thanks to that language I managed to make an impression on the Bong beauty. We used to catch up in the canteen, library and discuss stuff which could range from Rabindra Sangeet to Marketing strategy. And yes I could talk on all these subjects and was also part of the college quizzing team. We won quite a few quizzes which again duly impressed her.
Soon we had progressed from meeting in the college to meeting after classes in Cafe Coffee Day (CCD for short). This kind of became a weekly routine, meeting up every weekend at the CCD so much so that the management gave us a "membership card" of sorts that entitled us to a 10% discount every time we went there.
The extra "Alchemist" I had got during my summers was still lying in my cupboard. Her birthday was approaching and I put 2 and 2 together and came to the logical conclusion that I could gift her this classic. It was her treat that day at CCD. I gave her the book. She was happy and she even sang a few lines of a Bengali song for me in the crowded cafe. That evening a I walked back to my hostel, I was wondering how cultural differences could be sorted out in a family function invovling bengali and tamil members (You would say am a little too optimistic).
Next weekend came and my calls to her were unanswered. Our usual time for our rendezvous at CCD was fast approaching. Kept trying her number. No response. Desperate now. Tried again. Switched off. It was like a slap. So spent a lonely weekend.
Even the next day she did not bother to return my calls. I was hurt and upset. I knew I would meet her at some point in college and was wondering how I should react if I saw her. And soon enough I saw her rushing to her class. She flashed a radiant smile at me and said she wanted to tell me something and to meet her at the CCD later that evening.
Wow. This looked good and I could not wait for evening to come. And yes being the optimist I had scripted a dialogue which involved a lot of.. well very optimistic things.
At the CCD, she told me she had read the Alchemist and what a great book it was and this weekend she met someone. "Someone" - now this was not in the script I had dreamt about in class. And she ploughed on that it is more likely that she has met the "someone" of her dreams and was wondering how to tell her parents..I did not know what all she said but gathered that she wanted me to be the first person to know as it was me who gave her a wonderful book and opened her eyes to the fact that she should follow her dreams.
That was when I realised the curse of the Alchemist - A nicely progressing relationship.. Give the girl a copy of the Alchemist.. and within a week watch the relationship crumble around you.
Even now while browsing in a book store, I see the Alchemist, a shudder sometimes passes through me - the curse of the Alchemist??
Towards the end of my college term I met this sweet girl (yes she has the most mesmerizing pair of eyes I have ever seen). We smsed each other a lot,thanks to Aircel giving us free SMS packages. But never once in the million coversations we had did I ever mention the Alchemist...nor did I even consider lending her a copy of the Alchemist and nor do I intend to..
I dont know if the curse affects only me but I dont have the guts to experiment again.
Maybe you could try it and let me know!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
