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These writes talk about living, politics, and sometimes the odd translation of ancient movie songs. They seem to
make an interesting read, according to an anonymous tip off by someone on LinkedIn, so I put together a
compilation of them.

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Oometime back I had read about a prince who was out to find his destiny, and met a holy man (the matted hair,
bearded, saffron clad, stick surmounted, beneath a huge tree........ meditating sorts) who was in dire need of
water. Our prince obliged and was granted a boon, where he could change into any form. The prince asked to be
changed into a drop of water (don͛t know why the water and that too only a drop!).

Anyways he was granted.

Ding! The drop of water prince was sucked through the roots of the tree, moved within the thick branch ,
converted to a glistening drop on the leaf, and dripped down to the holy mans sight only to be changed back to his
original princely form. Enlightened the prince thanks the holy man and walks away

Well, what was the enlightenment? The moral what goes in comes back out.

And where is the dollar in all of this, you must be thinking.

Now the dollar was a source of tension for Rob (our good old CEO of ABC Inc - A couple of decade old All American
Company), and Bob (his wily manager).Rob was worried on how to jack up his companies profit without spending a
damm penny on productivity enhancements, training and development and of course without spending any
money on business enhancements. (read margin driven top lines)

Bob his wily manager coined the magic solution ʹ Outsourcing.

He sold it as͟ the act of transferring the non core activities of our businesses to competent third party firms, thus
allowing us to focus on core competencies which can help us build a sustainable advantage͟

Rob lost his patience and yelled͟ this isn͛t a fancy presentation in your Harvard; this is the real world, cut down the
jazz and tell me in simple terms͟

Bob, jostled back to reality walks to the board and writes down: -

1.Y Data management and processing - $ 12 = $5/hr

2.Y Ooftware Oervices - $30 = $15/hr
3.Y Financial - $ 180 = $80/hr

Rob's mind whirred at all those dollars pouring in. How this magic happens, he asked thoughtfully?

Bob said, we can send all this work to India and pay them some dollars. This would be more money than those
brown skinned guys would have ever made in their life, they would jump at it. (No doubt about it, even I jumped at
it, now I want to run out of it !!)

But if we give them all those dollars, wont they save it all, and eventually we would not have any dollars, Asians are
famous at being cheap.
They are cheap only when they come to the UO of A sir, at home they suffer from the O ʹsyndrome.

They would spend all of it Levi jeans ʹ the all American symbol, Reebok, Nike and the list is endless.

Rob was still not convinced, eventually Indians (they are smart, no doubt about it) would realize this con game and
their currency would almost have the same power as dollars.

You forget sir, power eventually flows out of the barrel of a gun, and our guns are bigger than theirs. Any attempt
at increasing their power in terms of fixing their currency (remember the Chinese forced to float the Yuan), would
be met with ͞global pressure to allow free market forces to shape the market͟.

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The newspapers all around are screaming of the admitted tragedy that has been accorded to the Bhopal gas
victims. The comparison of the hefty damage of 20 billion which has been wrested off by UO from the oil giant BP
stands in stark comparison to the 450 million given off to the dead and the injured in Bhopal. Just to put things in
perspective the cost of an Indian life is just 2% the cost of UO ecosystem and its nature.

While we are screaming for Andersons head, and asking for his extradition, the question that arises is why and how
this has happened? Congress in its press statement has called the entire episode a ͞systemic failure͟.

No, it is not a systemic failure. The real reason, which may be unpalatable to some, is the fact that we have still not
outgrown our colonial mentality. We see ourselves subservient to the white skinned. I think it is the remnant of
200 years of subjugation and that has tossed out a genetic trait as such.

Don͛t believe me? Ever walk into a restaurant and look at the treatment accorded to a foreigner who is white
skinned. You would say that the guy is merely doing it for his tips. True to a certain extent, but if the same
foreigner is a black, American or otherwise the treatment meted out is the same or in some cases worse off than
to normal citizens.

At this point my roommates interject and toss out a rather interesting reason for our behavior as such.͟ They are
more beautiful than us, and it is human nature to be appreciative of beauty and acknowledge it. Have you ever
seen a foreigner who is having misshapen features? ͞

I chuckle inwardly at their attempts to justify their behavior. Admittedly white people are better endowed
anatomically, but they are not really beautiful. Pretty, maybe but beauty no.

And again we are not appreciative of prettiness, we are appreciative of structure. I am reminded of an experiment
which showed pictures of various pretty people to toddlers and recorded their response.

Denzel Washington scored the highest among all the beautiful people!

This led to the conclusion that symmetry is what we involuntary look for in people. Washington͛s features align
perfectly. That is to say that if your were to cut his face into 2 halves with a vertical line across his forehead and
nose, and put one over the other they would overlap perfectly.

Oo the next time you come across a white skinned person and find yourselves being, well ͞appreciative of beauty ͞
you may want to take refuge in the fact that it isn͛t you, it is your genes, which is called the slavery or the " O
"gene.
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"10 ways to make money online ", " 5 ways to not drive a car "," 10 ways to hook a guy ", " her 7 secret muses " !!
The list is endless.

Why is there a fixation with numbers? From how to maintain your car to your wife, from buying a car to driving
one to disposing it , you name it there are series of quantitatively determined steps to glide you through them all.

Number bring structure to thoughts .When a headline screams at you some number no matter how small or large,
there is an inherent mental calculation in your mind that " Yes this thing has an end , No matter how long . " It
gives an impetus to the inherent laziness in everyone.

But don't some people revel in the abstract??? Artists maybe for instance, hate numbers, they see themselves as
unbound, so when they see precisement, they see it as a obstacle to their well, creative juices

Now this brings up an interesting thought. Is this inherent laziness same across all personality types, gender or
some other filters???

To get some clarity on this rather earth shaking thought, Oir Thoughtsalot embarked on one of his rather ding
missions. Being a voracious reader it was not a tough task all he did was note the author of posts online. (see that
again demonstrates my argument about inherent laziness !! )

The results͙ no clear indication. But there did emerge some evidence of a pattern.

Female authors or what appeared to female names did have a penchant for quantifying the well qualitative
emotions. For instance, love, beauty, sex., the "how" , "what" , and "if " part of these.
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I had this experience during my flying visit to my home before entering into the big bad world of office. My father
had lined up a list of activities to be done in my brief four day visit͟ Update the pass book, close the loan account,
fix the loan EMIs, check the insurance details, make your voter card, update your passport͟

Hooha, it made me wonder as to why Nikelani does not speed up with the UID thing, would have at least made my
holidays lazier.

Anyways I couldn͛t argue with reason, so one day I had to go to the election office. Delhi babudom at its peak
greeted me. I was happy; it was different from Chennai, the cheerful epithets (a welcome difference from machan
and rascal !!) , and the lazy demeanor. My happiness was soon to be tested; I slid across my Driving License (DL)
across the verification counter.

This won͛t do, this is not a valid photo identity. I was surprised, the DL had served me well during most of my
travels if he was referring to the photo on the DL then I can͛t help it, I have aged like anyone else and I told him so.

" No, it͛s not that, yours is a card type, but in UP they give a paper type ", and he proceeded to show me his DL.I
told him that they had switched to laminated cards, but he said "Hey, how can I verify something of which I have
no knowledge ? Logic irrefutable indeed :)

I wanted to land a choice comment on his lack of general knowledge, but the laws of babudom flashed in my eyes.
I asked him what could be done, and he said to get any other id, thankfully my passport was handy and I slid it
across, work done.

In now entered, at the same counter uncle ji aunty ji and their minted engineer back from his first trip to UO. All
staring at the babudom of Delhi with bewilderment. The uncle went to the first counter with a form and was
returned a ͞Get it verified first ͞.directive in a reasonably polite tone by Delhi standards. Uncle ji was miffed,
muttering in English about the lack of direction, courtesies and so on he went to the second counter. Trouble was
the verification was third counter which was teeming with people, lots of queues had formed, uncle picked up one
which looked straight.

After some time, he landed close to the window and showed his forms, and started in typical cultured south Indian
English." Is the boy here͟? ͞uncle ji couldn͛t understand and the third time the babu shouted .

Uncle ji had enough he proceeded to give a tongue lashing in English and the babu just kept the forms leaned close
to the window and said " Look mister, I am respecting your age, you do not seem to understand when I say it once,
and secondly stop your tirade in English, we have work here to do"

It was fun. Madrasi babu dilli main !!

I had a beard about a week old so my lineage wasn͛t entirely visible. A local standing next to me leaned across and
said " These south Indians are weird people, none of them speak Hindi, they only speak English and their madrasai
language is very weird, can͛t understand a damm word"
Ahh irony of it, that made me smile, smile nice indeed. I nodded my head and after collecting my card went home
and narrated the same incident to my mother. Ohe had a hearty laugh too and said͟ ok Mr Kale madrasi, have your
fulkas, going to be the last you see them for a couple more months to come.͟

True indeed and I proceed with gusto.

 
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Heard about the story of the 99 year old man on to celebrate his centennial? He stands up all beaming and
addresses the gathering ͞For my entire life I have not smoked, drank , or partied till late in the night , and see I
stand before you today to celebrate my 100th birthday "

Oomeone asks, rather bewildered, " Celebrate, but How?!!" And the crowd bursts laughing. !! :)

Well, did the old man really, lose on a lot in his life? The universe, functions in opposites if there is light there has
to be darkness, albeit after twilight. Oo if indeed there has been a loss there has to be gain, commensurate or
otherwise. What did he gain?

He gained power and respect. He was incorruptible; his skills were what Prahlad would refer to as core
competence, rare, applicable over a variety of situations, and to a certain extent inimitable. Purity scares people,
discipline makes them fear you and respect you. And add to that a mix of spontaneity and intellect you are as good
as fire and fuel, separated by a layer of polythene kept in a shaded tree in the summer of Chennai. The shade
protects you, and the heat threatens you.

An incorruptible man is a dangerous being, because he cannot be bullied, threatened, or blackmailed. Yes, there is
flip side too as Chankaya says, because straight trees are always cut the first. Ouch people when fall; fall very hard,
and break down with no hint of being put back together.

And btw to answer to the man͛s question , the oldie says͟ Tonight I smoke like a house on fire, drink like a fish ,
stone like a junkie and bang like a hormonally excessesed teen. "

Denial indeed in this case had made him capable to enjoy the accentuated pleasure :)
 
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Yeah, yeah...we have all heard of varying versions of that. It has been adopted in management teachings, in
countless email forwards, funny presentations so what more could one expect from a two character anecdote?

My thoughts exactly till I read a post by Mukul Oharma on the same. Its pretty obscure, however thanks to my
colleague Vasant it seems we could interpret the message.

After the race the hare is disappointed, he delves into the realms of science to find out why he lost. After going
through physics, mathematics and poring through endless graphs he seeks the tortoise again. He says "Hey, the
race was rigged, I did not know about relativity, dimension theory, or string theory too for that matter(neither do I
, Just read along).Once you were ahead of me there was no way I could catch up with you , no matter how fast I
ran. Also the fact that the finish line was arbitrary, you won. Oo in a classical sense a fable was born, which is
actually pure science on play"

The tortoise seems to be intrigued. After some thought he says, "Let͛s try a rematch in that case with exactly the
same parameters as before."

The hare agrees but triumphantly says ͞Oure, I will bet, but there is no way I can win".

Enter the jungle, D -day dawns, all the animals are around to see if history would be rewritten or if it repeats itself.
Bets were placed, bookies ran amok, and so it went on .The race began and the hare ran ahead of the tortoise,
exactly at the same place he slept again for the same time.

He woke up and galloped again and presto, he won!! Oobbing inconsolably he saw the tortoise crawling to the
finish line.͟ I don't understand how is this possible?? ͞The tortoise looks up smilingly," Luck can make you win once
but it takes smartness to win again " and with that he walks away with bumper bet money :)
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2!  

We were out for dinner one night at the office, me being the only grass grazer among carnivores. Oeems all were in
mood for chicken, so we started making way towards KFC, ͞Don͛t worry there is a Pizza Hut opposite to KFC in
Adyar, you can have dinner there͟. Ah sure, that sounds good, cause I kind of like Pizza Huts, Caesar Oalad.
Anyways, the guy driving hits a road bump and B screams in good humor, ͞You fucking Jew, why don͛t you give lifts
to pregnant women, the way you drive, it would be easier for them to deliver babies͟. The retort came from C,͟
Fuck you B, at least I can drive͟, with a subtle smile directed towards C, who well is not so adept at fielding a
steering. Petulant C adds, ͞Hey I got a license too͟. B kicks back in ͞Just because you got a dick, it doesn͛t mean
you can fuck, you got to have balls too, asshole͟. I added, ͞you got to have balls in the literal and figurative sense,
cause without them a dick isn͛t ͙well useful͟. To which we all burst out laughing!!

͞Why you guys use so many invectives while conversing͟ asked a female friend of mine, as I narrated this incident
to her.

Well, dear because it͛s a guy thing!!

It͛s a guy thing, because we bond over cuss and swear words. Females bond over gossip, the best bargains, and
͞you know she did that to him the last time͟ sort of talks. We guys, as I told my friend don͛t have the emotional
depth to deal with complexities, so we just let it out in a nicely worded behenchod or asshole.

Ohe shakes her head smilingly and says ͞I don͛t know how you do it Rajan, but you do say it out nicely, being sexist
and deferential at the same time!!͟
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((

Today, I came back after spending some time with my sister Vaishnavi. Ohe lives with her parents (My Mama and
Mami) in Dubai and spends most of her time after school alone at home. Ohe is one of the rare kids who at the age
of 9 prefer to watch the night sky rather than Pokémon (not that she is not addicted to TV, but you get the
picture).

Oolitude, may possibly explain her artistic tendencies, meaning she paints well, really well, and her fingers are long
and slender almost as long as mine. Thanks to technology I have some samples of her brush strokes article
formations on my cell as well.

Anyways I came to her place in night and she insisted we go and sit on the terrace. As I sat with her and asked her
what she liked while sitting and staring heavenwards, she said ͞Pictures on clouds͟. ͞Now what do you mean by
that͟, I asked. Ohe points her finger across the sky and traces out an imaginary helicopter formation in the clouds,
which to my understanding was rudimentary best. Eager to show off and to offset my limited presence of artistic
tendencies I asked if she knew about the man on the moon, to which she replied in negative.

I traced the contour of the man on the moon and she waited for some time staring at it. Then, wrinkling her nose
in a hint of disgust, she replies, ͞Yeah it has to be a man only, it has no hair! Laughing out aloud , I said " But I have
ample hair ", and shook my long mane for the effect.

" But you are anna. not appa ", she replied clearly distinguishing a " man " from " anna" .!!

Aha that felt good, particularly in light of the spate of weddings in my friend circles :) :)
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Ounday morning, as I was listening to this song( film Jodha akbar ʹ Jashne bahara), Khan saab shoots out a
question,

"Do you understand what you are listening ?? "

That lead me to ....... decode (not translate) this song(with inputs from Khan saab)....here it is....and yes it is indeed
very soulful.. ... :)

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Think about a job, a living that would enable you to increase in scale by almost 100 % in less than a year. By scale,
let me clarify on record it is the amount you take home.

Blank? Let me give you a hint. No accountability in this job and certainly no qualifications required as in basic
education.

I am sure at this point you would have put together the title of the post and the first couple of lines. Politics, my
friends is the vocation I am talking about. The case in point is the increase in declared assets of Mayawati from 45
crore to 88 crores in a span of just about an year

The impunity in which BOP workers acknowledge the ͞honesty " of their leader in declaring her assets and urging
their opposition leaders to show their " black money" is more well, tragic.

However, on has to acknowledge the political acumen of Mayawati in declaring her assets as white money. Firstly
it is an indication of the "me too" syndrome. If the girl of a poor dalit can amass such fortune her vote bank of dalit
would automatically support her regardless of whether she does them any good or not. Affinity to ones kin is more
demonstrable at the bottom of the pyramid, where people from rural areas are still known by their community
names. Oecondly from the standpoint of a attack to her from the centre (Congress), in terms of black money
hoarding, a messy CBI enquiry there is absolutely no chance. I am not saying that she does not have some
additional stash hidden somewhere, but the fact that she has some much already in white would naturally casts
aspersion on her black(less or more not particularly relevant).And you don͛t make so much money all alone, you
have to give a share o the pie to all so as to eliminate any nuisance or a disgruntled wannabe screaming
"corruption".

One of my friend͛s acquaintances is in the PWD, (Uttar Pradesh) who was at sometime responsible for the highway
project. He used to meet Mayawati regularly, and present project proposals. Maya ji had only one question " What
is the value and how much do I get?!"

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Isn͛t that a mouthful?! You would expect that I try justifying that, maybe relating an anecdote (fabricated or
otherwise!)

Well I am about to do just that. This is called the pretty girl syndrome. It occurs when your are in the company of
some extremely anatomically proportioned girl(s) (on a generic note females) and who take pride in displaying
their curves. Assume you are roaming around in a market place or so, and you catch site of a competitive
specimen.

At that point you can feel the tremors. Just wait and you would end up hearing comments like ͟look how gawdy
her dress is, isn͛t she showing a bit too much of an attitude, Oh man look at the shameless gawkers all around the
female, she seems to be enjoying all of it ͙.bits and pieces of the above sentiment , at varying intervals of time.

Pretty females cannot tolerate another one of their type; they are united in their animosity towards their kind. I
guess it must be some remnant of the ancient primeval emotion which springs from the wild side within the brains
(yes there is one part of the human brain that regulates primeval desires such as hunger, sex, if you have ever
snorted you would know!). This remnant of the emotion may be due to the fact that the females sense a threat to
their own importance/existence, and somehow link it up with the possible loss of their mate (well a figure of
speaking!!) protection.

Now consider the same situation, however replace the competitive females͛ specimen with a male one and try and
guess the reaction, of both the participant. To make it interesting, try extending the same analogy, as above :) :)

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