Heading to China for the rest of the week. Will blog if wordpress is not blocked.
UPDATE: WORDPRESS NOT BLOCKED…. POST OLYMPICS
Month: August 2008
Irish Conflict
Going back to corporate life in the late 90’s, partner meetings were very popular. One such meet was held at a resort on the outskirts of Jakarta, Indonesia. Since the company was on a budget drive we were asked to share rooms.
Dermott and Tony were from our Irish office and became roomies. They were best friends but as different as chalk and cheese. Dermott was a chain smoker, liked his beer and Tony was a practitioner of Yoga, more of a wine person. Personality wise both were outgoing and friendly to everyone.
The internal team (including Tony and Dermott) arrived a few days earlier to prepare and set up the event. In a couple of days we observed that they started snapping at everyone in general and at each other in particular. Having known them for years it was quite odd.
Things came to a head one day when a group of us were hunched around the bar when both started making snide remarks at each other, their habits… it then got personal when they started accusing each other of questionable genetics… several beers later ancestry was being discussed… the climax came when morals of their mothers and grandmothers started to get discussed…they had to be physically separated…
Finally we found out why…
Tony liked to go to bed early… but Dermott stayed awake till 3-3.30 AM, smoking and playing games on his computer. Obviously pissed Tony off.
On the other hand Tony got up bright and early at 4.30 AM and stared pottering around the room… doing Yoga for an hour the going for a quick swim and then coming back to take a shower and fixing himself with a health drink using a mini blender that he carried… all before 6 AM. Dermott who would have just gone to sleep was pissed at Tony.
Net net both of them were not getting any sleep… the anger was slowly building up.
Finally we convinced someone else to room with Dermott..
An Irish “Odd Couple”
Motivator Par Excellence
As I struggle to keep my son motivated for his tenth exams, I cannot but think of K.S.Chandrashekariah.
K.S.C was the Headmaster of Vijaya High School. Every day at the morning assembly he’d launch into this lecture about studies, study habits. In the beginning the lectures seemed long drawn and boring… sitting in the quadrangle under the morning sun.. but soon it would “Eat” its way into you… he’d almost be in raptures talking about success stories and how discipline helped in the long run. I still remember him on the podium in the class.. all the time extolling us with the virtues of good study habits.
By the time we were in 10th grade, it was cool to be a “kudumi” (bookworm). The dedication and passion are somehow missing from teachers of this era.
We need more Chandrashekariahs….
CROSS POSTED ON The Vijaya High School Blog
Laugh Bytes
Two employees walking back to their seats after a particularly nasty meeting.
Employee 1: ” Man that was tough. Do you think I was being an A**hole?”
Employee 2: “No.. no.. not at all.. thats how you always are”
Sound of cymbals…
Cooku for a Weeku
Every other summer my uncles would visit us from the USA with their families. Invariably our house in Bangalore was the first stop and a staging area while they visited Mysore and other places.
Suddenly the house would be teeming with relatives either staying with us or visiting my uncles. Relatives would come out of the woodworks to visit… and hoping for the odd T-Shirt or perfume bottle. Considering that our house in Jayanagar had 2 small bedrooms, I wonder now how we squeezed so many people in.
It was during one of these visits that mom threw her hands up and said she needed a cook for the 3 weeks that the visitors were around. After all cooking for 20 odd demanding people while you have a full time job as an Economics prof was difficult. She had just lost a cook who was with us for 3 odd years (that nightmarish story later).
After some debate it was decided that a cook had to be hired.. this happened to be a guy who had worked in a Udipi restaurant and was in between jobs.
We kids were excited (my cousins from the US could not care less… they were missing their barrgurrs).. but for us it was a great thing to have a “real” cook at home. Moms cooking was too healthy and not exciting enough.
Day 1- He started off well enough… with some great Idlies and Vada… and typical hotal sambar… great rasam for lunch.. and dinner…there were praises all around.. snide remarks about mom’s cooking… why can’t she get some tips from this guy etc etc… amma has a frown on her face.. “What a cook” we chorus.. “can we keep him?”
Day 2 – Same dishes, same food…. still tasty enough…Some gas building up inside the grownups… one of the relatives swear that baking soda has been used.. still the cook gets the benefit of doubt…maybe its mom’s fault she didnt give him variety in the ingredients.. everything was the same.. same dishes, same taste…
Day 3 – Dishes dont change.. rasam tastes the same.. gas build up increases.. mom’s expression changes to a smirk
Day 4 – The Soda has everyone bilious… elders hatch a conspiracy to get rid of the cook… mom is grinning broadly.. she has been happily hands off from the kitchen… dad broaches the subject of firing the cook.. only to be met with a cold stare…uncles start grumbling “We came all the way here to eat hotal food aaaa?”
Day 5 – Murder plots are being hatched. Bathroom is occupied ALL the time. Food is being supplied from a neighbours house because peeepal do not want to taste the same rasam, sambar and soda filled rice again… mom is now laughing….
Day 6 – Cook is asked to go by Mom.. she cant bear to see the family suffering. The cook cannot understand why his popularity has gone from Rock Star to Porn Star in 5 days. He leaves gladly… Mom is resigned to cook for the suffering lot.. neighbours and relatives offer supporting help.
Moms cooking is bestest…. no one complains
We want to Parteeeeey
Bombs go off.. we rant for a day… promise ourselves to be extra vigilant and life goes on.. but no tension.. Bangalore rebounds.
Bad Infrastructure.. grumble grumble grumble… but then life goes on.. what can we do?
My personal opinion… places should be allowed to remain open late… but a Dharna for this??? Come on…. Get real.. Get a Life… Party on…
Priorities… Priorities…
In the meantime, political leaders say NO !!!! They dont want this to interefere with their partying 😉
They Say:
Even dancing in discotheques is heavily restricted, because the government fears that allowing dancing may lead to dance bars springing up.
Nice Sunday
Junior and I saw a play at Ranga Shankara on Sunday. Though its been there for a while, it was the first time I actually saw a play there. And I loved it. The place is classily done. A true testimony to Shankar Nag. No ostentatious display and no hero worship. Its in his memory but in a very nice way.
The play itself was “Bandawalavillada Badayi”, a Kannada play by T.P. Kailasam. Very well performed and extremely funny.
Finally, whats a post without a rant…. heres some…
1. The organizers REPEATEDLY tell people to switch off their mobile phones. Yet some people leave it on. Whats more in FULL RINGTONE….. AND they keep answering calls in the middle of the play…. hey dude if you want to answer your phone in the middle of the play… DONT COME HERE !!!!
2. … why do people need to repeat everything the actors say.. and then laugh…
3. There was a lady behind me who probably knew the lines of the play…and she kept saying it…JUST BEFORE THE ACTORS SAID IT… aaaaargh… glad someone sushed her.
4. FINALLY…. its not stylish to walk in after the play has started. There was a group (and these were VOLUNTEERS and had badges) who were standing outside till the stage lights went on and then proceeded to trudge across the auditorium trying to find seats.
What goes around…
A few years ago, Mushy baby kicked Nawaz Sharif out… now its Nawaz’s turn to return the compliment. Life has come a full cirle for the main US Ally on Terror.
Some options for Mushy:
1. Motel business in the USA
2. Go to Saudi Arabia, lick his wounds, and then come back and kick Nawaz’s jamoons once again
3. Work as a Cricket Analyst for Ten Sports
4. Become a UN Ambassador for peace for Afghanistan. Maybe he can win the Nobel Peace Prize.
5. Start a restaurant in Mumbai/Delhi. Call it Mushies Eateries. Prices there will be a bomb (pun intended)
6. Write his Memoirs. Call it “How I went from Peach to Impeach” or “Terror Ally to Terror Alley”
Any others?
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Hot Topic – Pocket Money
So finally the demand/request has come. Nikhil today asked me for regular pocket money. I asked him how much and he said Rs. 100 per week month but he could need some extras…
“Some kids in my class get Rs. 1000 per week” he said… hoping that I would see how “lucky” I was.
How much pocket money should a 14 year old get? I am amazed that some parents actually give their kids a 1000 rupees a week.
So is there a number here? What is too little and what is too much?. We are due to discuss this topic today evening 🙂
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Bangalore Blues 