Ajaxheart's Doodles

Post Dengue

2009-11-23T07:08:00.000-08:00

Its been ages since I wrote anything. Been busy thinking about entrepreneurship and experiencing it. Add to this that my health has been the worst it has ever been.

From a prolapse in my disc from celebrating a Liverpool goal to a shaky knee , its been a bad year in terms of health. Bad health gives you a lot of time to pause , reflect and imagine.From feeling so full and eager about a better tomorrow to feeling objectively uninspired about every facet of life is a strange dualism to go through.

From feeling anti-social to feeling lonely to enjoying solitude is a diverse multitude to traverse during a day.

Just been out of hospital after a week of resting on Dengue fever. Guess all the rest has made me feel very spaced out

2009-06-02T22:41:00.000-07:00

Just felt like typing a line or two. Trying to take a small step or two towards blogging again.

Currently in my home town Trichur. My sister is expected to deliver a baby on 3rd June and I have come down to witness the arrival of the next generation in the family.
I came down on 29th and have been waiting. "They" (People who have gone through this before and who appear to be more knowledgeable on the subject) say usually the first delivery has higher probability of being ahead of time. I was born 11 days ahead of schedule when my grandmother slipped and fell and my mom shrieked and got tensed and then poor me was taken out using forceps (Heard the forceps part of it yesterday over dinner). My twin sisters arrived a month ahead of schedule.

Keeping all this in mind I decided to come 5 days ahead of the scheduled date. So here I am waiting.

It is a little strange now for me now with regards to phone calls.

The moment I ring a close friend or relative they wait with bated breath for me to break the news even though I might just have called to say something as mundane as "Whats up"

If I dont call people up, they think I am busy with the delivery.

I am still figuring how to twitter. Probably my next message on twitter will be ...........

Bomb Conitnued

2007-12-21T12:02:00.000-08:00

The Bomb- Continued
For some reason today, I feel extremely hollow as I find most things in life meaningless which kind of takes away motivation to do anything.

Today trying to write after a long time.As I do not feel like doing anything else, I am forcing myself to do something I have not done for long.Blog

This event goes back to 2003 or 2002 at Eng College. EDC - electronic devices and Components Internal Exams were coming and the teacher and me had the good fortune of enjoying each others presence only once for the whole term

One of the frequent topics discussed at hsotel was about the various methods of copying. Electrical Eng students had most of their exams in a 120 seater class room with umpteen windows and doors.

A method of copying which they had perfected and called "Bombing" involved the question papers being smuggled out through the window and picked up by other branch students who would fill up the answer sheets with the help of one of the electrical students who would not be writing the exam from the exam hall. Before the papers were collected the answer sheets would be filled in some other hall and smuggled back though the windows and people who had in advance booked their pre-filled answer sheets would be getting it and submitting it. There have been instances where Bombed sheets have found their way into the Bundle of Answer Sheets a couple of days after the exams

The modus operandi kind of excited me. I was never good at copying and never did other than the occasional desperate glance at other sheets which gave me a sense of "I am not the only one struggling" . The fear of failure or the Return by Risk ratio never appealed to me. However "Bombing" for some reason kind of gave me a sense of a challenge.

I decided to scoot my last EDC internals as I did not know head or tail of the subject and felt it was a waste of time going in to the exam hall.

But then things took a twist.

The electrical eng students were free at the time we were having the exam and encouraged us to try a bombing operation. One of my fellow mates from Compsci was desperate to pass and had not studied a word and asked if I could help the electrical guys bomb for us. Somebody from Compsci needed to tell them what answers to write. Since I was not planning to write I was to be the Chosen one (a really bad choice as I was almnost like an electrical student with regards to the subject but again beggars cant be choosers). Only 3 people wanted "bombed" answer sheets.

Word spread around that Compsci was going to do a bombing operation and more people from other branches joined into be the support team behind the operation. There was an air of tension, excitement and anticipation.

We have done a lot of dumb things at college but this one takes some beating.

"Bombing" as a modus operandi became popular whenever exams were held in the Eng Drawing Halls which had atleast 6 windows and umpteen open doors and had about 120 seats. Replicating this model in the Compsci class was like trying to apply logic to a David Dhawan movie.

The Compsci exam was happening in the 2nd Floor of the Compsci Bock and would have only about 30 students and the subject teacher herself was the invigilator.

As you entered the Compsci block, you would be greeted by a flight of stairs. If you went up these stairs on reaching the first floor immediately on your left would be the office where the H.O.D was seated.

If you climbed further up, you would reach floor 2 which abruptly ended in a prependicular corridor with a classroom door on your left .
The Classroom door on the left was the scene of the Crime. This class room had a 2windows which Spiderman would have been proud to reach from the outside.

I gulped as I realised that a narrow slit-like ventilator just below the ceiling of the wall to one's left as one climbed the stairs to the 2nd floor was our only outlet for smuggling the answer sheet back in.

The exam began and as attendance was taken somebody proxied for me. As there were no windows to throw out the question paper, the toilet excuse was used by one of the "bombees'" to get the question paper out. We were already late(10 minutes to get the question paper out and we had only 45 minutes left) and me and the electrical guys ran to a free class room outside the compsci block.

I looked at the questions and realised we were doomed. Three long answers which were concpetual in nature. I dug out some sections in the text book and asked every one to put down two big paragraphs which I felt had some sort of connection with the questions asked. Felt really stupid as even with a text book I did not know the answers!. The guys in electrical looked at me with some scorn.

We wrote as fast as our pens could. We barely filled 2 out of the three questions when we realised time was running out. We ran back to the Compsci block to smuggle the sheets back in.

Now to reach the slit of the ventilator you needed to put your self on the railing of the stair case and stretch yourself and get a leg up and still you just barely reached it. Imagine one leg on the railing and the other leg on a somebodys cupped hand and full stretch with some answer sheets which need to be pushed though a narrow slit and time running out with the risk of some faculty coming up. One of us stood on First Floor Corridor to signal anyone coming from First Floor to the 2nd Floor.

Now the tricky part was ensuring that when the papers fell in through the ventilator the teacher did not see it. The class had figured what was happening outside and were fully tuned in.

One of the samaritans finished his exam early and came out and opened the door to the class and stood outside as if he was waitng for the rest to complete and come out. He signalled to the guy who was sitting at the bottomright of the class to ask a doubt and distract teacher. It is a different matter that the guy asking the doubt was a geek and could close his eyes and clear any doubt the teacher had about the subject.
This was our opportunity and the acrobatically poised bomber pushed the papers through the ventialtor as teacher earnestly was trying to understand what doubt could someone so knowledgable have.

What I describe next, I have not seen but heard and have replayed it quite often in my mind

Filled up Answer Papers flying and floating all over the class from the ventilator and everyone trying to bring its flight to an end as teacher had her back facing the ventilator. After clearing the imaginary doubt, when she turned around she sensed soemthing had happened in the class and something had just settled down but didnt know what. At the stair case just as we finished pushing the papers we got a signal from down and we hurriedly jumped off the rails to see the HOD coming up and did our best to look casual.

We had done it. Our first and last bombing.It was bloody damn exciting and required a lot of team work and luck.

Its a different matter that the score of 12 out of 30, that I got was one of the lowest and the others who wanted " bombed" sheets for themselves had managed to do a better job of copying inside the class and rejected my sheets (Only if they knew the effort that went into getting it there)

The Bomb

2007-06-06T09:33:00.000-07:00

“Some things remain etched in memory” is a common phrase I use. What I mean by this, is that there is a photograph or picture in my minds eye which associates to an event or incident. Often amidst mundane activities these still pictures [ usually in sepia brown or black and white] come in to my mind and I go into a trip about that event or incident. All I need to replay an event is my mind recollecting that still picture with which I associate that event.

Now one such picture of an event that happened and which I replay in my mind is a little strange for the reason that the picture captured in my mind is something I have not seen but instead heard about from the others. However I associate this unseen picture to the event as that was the most interesting part of the event, in hindsight.

Will talk about the event in the next blog

Jyothish becomes an Uncle

2007-06-02T22:28:00.000-07:00

Last night was a get together organized by Jyothish to celebrate him becoming an uncle as his sister gave birth to a baby girl.

Its a different matter that, in spite of the younger players on the football field shouting out to me, "Uncle , Pass the ball" that I have not thrown a party.

Everything will be sealed and fine

2007-05-30T10:15:00.000-07:00

Our consultancy work involved finding a promising company(a SME) some funding from the right kind of investor. We were to value the company and negotiate and close the deal.

I had managed to convince a potential investor to fly down from Hyderabad to meet my clients. Spend the morning and a good part of afternoon with the investor at the Barista at Leela.
In our 4 to 5 hours discussion the potential investor made one long trip to the rest room.

After realising that negotiations were going in circles with an inreasing rpm we decided that we would take a trip to my client's factory.

My client was eagerly awaiting the arrival of their potential investor. They had their best smiles and were eager to impress. The investor came into the factory and promptly asked for the rest room.
So my client and I waited for him to return from his trip to the rest room. The air was tense(atleast for me, the investor I had brought to the factory had rushed to the rest room like a first standard school kid . What would my client be thinking" ). The silence kind of amplified it. I decided to break it and blurted out, "I think his stomach is kind of upset. Must be the plane food" [this was pure conjecture from my side]

So my client said, "Pop a somethng_ol and everything will be sealed and fine".
I smiled. My client added,"Really man, it works all the time. I always carry it while traveling"

By this time the investor had returned from the restroom to the area where we were waiting. Now to break the ice with the potential investor my client said," If you need any medicines, do let me know, I always carry it". I was chuckling wildly within as I saw the investor fight off his bemusement and say," No thanks".

I still chuckle thinking about what might have gone though the investors mind.

Probable Investor Thought Bubble: [I meet a guy for the first time in my life with a view to investing in his company and he asks me if I need medcines. !!!!!!!]

I slept with my boss

2007-04-02T22:41:00.000-07:00

"Well it's been ages since I posted" is repeatedly becoming the opening line for my blog posts.
Anyway will be trying to post couple of entries today to buck that trend.

The heading of this post looks juicy[ignore the pun] but let me take the juice out of it

First and foremost I am male[feels a bit girlish to announce that I am male]. My boss is male too. My boss was my batch mate at IIM Lucknow. We started up together. One fine day we felt we needed a leader and had a “process” [more about the “process” in our future best seller: "How to do all the wrong things and succeed in Entrepreneurship'] to elect the leader and from then he [Doc] became our boss.

Our fledgling consultancy work has resulted in a lot of travel.

They say , Consultants are experts at fleecing the customer and in this regard we seem to be pretty black-sheepish and have been at the receiving end of most of the fleecing.

Anyway one such assignment was at Calicut [a 8 hour overnight bus ride from Bangalore].

Instead of taking the Rs 550 Volvo we decided to go for the Rs 340 sleeper for two reasons.

a) Economic sense [ being fleeced, meant economic sense came naturally to us]
b) I cannot sleep in a sitting position

Doc[boss] did the bookings and for some reason [ I did not bother to investigate] got a double bed.

Anyway lying in the double bed of the bus with Doc and being tossed up and down at the slightest jerk of the bus was amusing. It meant that the usually “abletosleepoffinanyposition Doc” failed to get any sleep. Me got to know all this next day after waking up from a comfortable slumber.

Live On

2007-01-20T12:55:00.000-08:00

Well the feeling of my virtual world dormancy has tipped over.

Today was a pretty high strung yet meandering kind of day that probably can end with a blog post.

Today, I woke up to declare to the family that I was staying with at Abu Dhabi ,that I am not joining them on their weekend outing as I did not want to miss the Liverpool vs Chelsea game at Anfield

In between,I got a phone-call from Ummer Uncle at about 10am. It’s been about 11 years since I met him. He used to drive a Taxi then and come to out house to have lunch and was a sincere guy who was like a vital part of our house-hold. Even though his presence was not something we would yearn for, his absence could always be felt . I was too small to know how he had walked into our life

He had grown older. His glistening stubbles looked out of place on his swollen face- he said it was a medical condition.
He was still driving a taxi – though illegally. He then told me how he still remembers my father and told me that it was my father who helped him buy his first taxi. His four kids are decently educated and he has managed to build a house to settle down at his hometown two years from now. The planned exit from the rat-race.

This was not the first time that strangers and people I knew, looked at me with genuine emotion in their eyes and told me about how my father had helped them and made a difference in their lifes.

My Dad’s elder brother, Salim Muthappa, has been paralyzed since the time I can remember. He cant move, he cant twitch, he cant shoo away a mosquito. He can barely make sounds, he can cry, he can smile, he can understand, he can hear. He can emote and with a lot of efforts make a few sounds which helped him communicate. He has been completely dependant on Saidally (his helper) for everything since he was struck with the illness. Sali Muthappa used to be an athelete and then an inspector feared by everyone.

Seeing his misery an helplesness, one would actually pray that he died.

Well he did, a few days ago. In spite of knowing that he has been relieved from his misery, I still replay the great moments I have had with him.

Ummer Uncle was a friend of my dad’s brother from childhood days and that’s how he ended up being part of our house-hold. I let him know about the death.

Went back home and watched ‘Rang De Basanti’ for nth time (where n is definitely greater than 2) as it was playing on TV. The movie lives on in my mind. The characters live on. Chandrashekar Azad lives on. DJ lives on, Karan lives on.

Some people DIE. Some people die and then live on stronger than ever.
PS: Liverpool 2- Chelsea 0 [A pretty good spanking]

Ignorance is Bliss

2006-11-02T03:22:00.000-08:00

Just as Sandy(Sandeep) was about to leave for Delhi and me to Trivandrum for urgent business requirements, Doc(Anoop Radhakrishnan) quipped ,”Carry Odomas with you, Dengue for Sandy and Chikanguniya for you- be careful”

For a moment I was thinking about how Dengue sounded so elegant and crisp whereas Chikanguniya was kind of over-elaborate. Just felt that it would be more difficult to say, “I am suffering from Chikanguniya” (Especially when you are sick).

Bought some “New improved Odomas” and lavishly applied the sweet smelling cream all over the exposed parts before going to sleep while I was at Tvm.

On my return journey by train I was deeply engrossed on an article describing the buoyancy in the Indian Auto Industry in the latest edition of Business World. We were somewhere around Alapuzha station. The middle-aged, bearded and white-capped man was chanting verses from his pocket Quran in the adjacent berth.

“The Indian Auto Industry contributes about 5% to our GDP ……”
Suddenly I felt a tap on my thigh and looked up at the bearded man.
He pointed at something and gasped “Ch*****”. I could barely decipher whatever he gesticulated. Following the general trail of his finger I spotted a tiny mosquito perched on my thigh all ready to ……… I brushed it aside.

Suddenly I realized that the berth was full of mosquitoes.
The calm composed me who peacefully reading the ‘Business World’ till then, was left fending shameless mosquito advances and scratching imaginary itches for the rest of the journey.
The old man continued his rhythmic chanting. It was the last 10 days of Ramadan. One of the last 10 days is supposed to be a ‘bonus reward’ day where all your prayers get multifold rewards and all your sins are forgiven.

‘Ignorance is Bliss’

Mango Memories

2006-11-02T03:15:00.000-08:00

have always wanted to believe or I actually do believe that fruits have deeply impacted my life. As a child I naturally took to fruits, unlike my sister who in her 20 years of existence has not eaten any fruit completely as her body just rejects it.

My first introduction to the Mango was memorable. We were at a family friend’s house and I was around 5 years old. The first bite at a mango felt so heavenly. I still
had the fork in my hand. From then on what happened remains etched in my memory.
I did not give the fork a moment’s rest. I attacked the mangoes one by one and sometimes more than one by one. It was a Blitzkrieg. The hosts watched with amusement and my parents with embarrassment as I single-handedly wiped out the plate even before my parent’s had time to realize what’s happening.

When we left the guest’s house my father went straight to the fruit market and bought two cartons of the finest Mangoes and said, "Eat till your desire goes".

Queuing and Peeing theory

2006-10-05T21:58:00.000-07:00

Recently had gone for a movie called, ‘ClassMates’ at a really run-down theatre called Sangeeth. Located near ShivajiNagar the theatre with its narrow doorways , gates and crumbling stair-cases seems to be a perfect recipe for a mini-stampede.

Artificial demand and Supply manipulations meant that tickets had to be bought at a premium to the 45 rs one would actually have to pay.

It’s a dark world. Alright!

Do not know what was it about the movie or the theatre? At interval time almost every male in the theatre was in the dingy little collection of latrines that was a sad excuse for a public toilet. Do not know if it was the stench in the toilet or the sense of competition, but I could not hold on longer and I had to pee. But all the latrines were engaged. To make matters worse there was atleast one person in queue for every latrine.

I would have to hold on till atleast two people finished. That was the best case scenario.

I needed to release my tension. I looked around at everyone trying to figure out which queue of people would finish first. It reminded me of situations like entering a crowded bus – hoping that the seat next to where you are standing would be vacated soon. Entering a crowded Restaurant and standing near the right table by gauging how much of the food on that table has been eaten.

However I was busy trying to figure out a logical way to arrive at the queue which would collectively finish peeing faster. Was vaguely recollecting queuing theory and a lot more other mathematical models. My thoughts suddenly get interrupted by the person behind me prodding me on my back and telling me ,”Hurry up, its your turn”.

By the way movie was pretty good.

The little girl with the shining eyes

2006-09-14T08:12:00.000-07:00

Her eyes radiated strength.

She looked in the direction of her friend and said, “Don’t force ,nah”

Her friend, a little girl with short hair and dark skin wearing tattered clothes, had a huge bunch of roses and was irritatingly forcing me and my friend to buy a couple of them.

All this while I was least bothered and was just walking out of the Barista at MG Road, Bangalore.

I turned around and looked at her.

She was little too. She had a nice face. Fair with long hair neatly tied-up and eyes that were not black and had a shine about them. She did not look like an Urchin. She had a huge bunch of roses too. I took a liking to her from second one.

I asked her, “Why are you not trying to sell your roses?”
She said,” Uncle, will you buy one?”

I told her to sit down and tell me more about herself.
I quizzed her.

She said that her parents were into trading garments and they slept near brigade road.
Her friend was more forceful because she had more pressure from home to sell the roses.
They needed the money for paying a school fees of Rs 800. They bought the bunches from the market in the morning at about Rs 150 and managed to sell around 300 Rs worth of roses in a day.

Both of them spoke fluent English and would have put to shame many of my batch-mates at IIM L.

Mt friend and I decided to buy 2 roses from the little girl with the shining eyes as the other girl was a spoiled brat. She refused to allow us to buy both from her and pointed her finger to her friend and said, “Please buy from her also” .

I continued talking to the girl. She had her exams going too. Tomorrow was Language and today the computer exams got over.

I asked her why she was not advising her friend to behave better.
“I have tried but she beats me. Someday she will understand”. I sat there listening like the student to a great philosopher. The little girl had sold her rose and asked me politely if she could leave.
I said, “Wait, Can I give this rose to you?”
She vehemently shook her head and rushed off.
Me and my friend walked along and caught up with the pair again.

This time with a bit more firmness in my voice I told the little girl ,"I am giving this to you because you are a nice girl and you study well and if you don’t accept my rose I will feel bad. "

She accepted.

My friend also wanted to give her rose to the little girl with the shining eyes. But the little girl just looked in our direction and pointed in the other direction indicating that we should be giving the rose to her friend too.

The other little girl accepted it.

Never felt happier about giving a rose to a girl.

Screwed Up Business

2006-09-08T12:11:00.000-07:00

It’s been some time. Laziness, a Tata Indicom connection and business kept me away.

Over the last few months, me and 4 of my partners have always kept our eyes open looking for new business opportunities around our locality. We live around Dayanand Sagar College area and with the number of good looking babes around keeping our eyes open is not too difficult.

Flashback:

March, 2006 at IIML: 6 gonna be MBA’S had decided not to sit for placements and would join hands to start their own company. As part of the trust building we had a lot of heart to heart open discussions on our past, present and future.

As part of these discussions an interesting story came out. It was about the past entrepreneurship effort of one of my partners

He was staying in a large house all alone in Mumbai. Some facts of the matter maybe added or omitted due to incomplete knowledge of the actuals.

Now it came to a situation where a lot of his friends would hop into his house with their girlfriend or other variations to use his bedroom for about half an hour.

My business partner decided that nothing comes free in life and decided to charge Rs 50 for half an hour of use of his bedroom. (A poor pricing policy considering it was a monopoly service and the customers were generally desperate)

End of Flashback

Restaurant, MBA Coaching Centre, Placement Services, A Discotheque were some of the ideas that came about.

But with a two storey house where one bedroom is rarely used you can guess which idea seemed the most tempting. Even before services have been launched we get excited customer queries. Sorry we will not be taking customers without launching the services so till then hold on.

The great Mallu Mess Hunt

2006-08-12T13:19:00.000-07:00

A main course of viral fever and a sprinkling of food poisoning meant a very unpleasant trip of Udaipur. Neverthless it's lakes , green hills and low traffic seem like a distant and pleasant dream, as people around me honked in helplesness at the Bangalore traffic.

The screech and the smoke combo was crushing me. My phone rang. Dinner tonight with my Uncle - who is filthy rich and is worried ,curious ,amused ,impressed ,interested in the fact that I have started up.

There were some guests with him. So I had to be nicey nice, primy prim.

Sitting at at Taj West End at around 9 pm,, all prim and proper ,with 3 to 4 important guests from Oman, on a Saturday evening, gave me optimism my Sunday would be great.

I hate using the fork and the spoon!!! If I could I would shove the fork up the ass of the guy who made it a part of table manners.

I hate meaningless conversations!!! But sometimes the silence can get to you.

Have you been to Bangalore before?
How do you like the weather, the food and whatever else you might care to like?
So did you enjoy the shopping?
How's the food?

That's more than enough. I had asked enough questions. Enough to get the 'He is not an anti-socail element certificate'

Now it was their turn. I had provoked them. They were silently going about their meal when I thought I should atleast try socializing. They were going to hit back big time.

Have you been to Oman?

WIWHSIIC(What I would have said If I could):The answer to that question is not going to change your or my life- so why waste my energy
WIAS(What I actually said): No , But would love to be visit the place

What does your company do?
WIWHSIIC(What I would have said If I could):Oh we generally 'Do' the client. We are a management consultancy.
WIAS(What I actually said): We are a management consultancy.

Why are'nt you eating?

WIWHSIIC(What I would have said If I could):Bcos I cant keep answering questions with food in my mouth and the frigging fork has conspired with the meat on the plate to resist all my attacks.
WIAS(What I actually said): Oh just waiting for the desert.

Are you married?(This question was a stunner and probably stood out for its logical disconnect)

WIWHSIIC(What I would have said If I could):No !,but thatdoes not mean you add me to your marriagable guys catalogue and dedicate your life to seeing me tie the knot(unless afcourse you have a beautiful looking Lebanese female all lined up)

WIAS(What I actually said): No, Iam just 24 .

The jarring music in the back ground and the quiver of meaningless questions fired at me and my constant tussle with the fork and the food atleast ensured I wasn't bored and I ate less of the Baking Soda marooned food..

Its nights like these that trigger me to eat my heart out at a Mallu Mess and lick the remnants of the curry stained with the flavour of Fish or beef off my fingers and feel happy and content with life.

Well just as I was about to end this post I got a small idea. Why not ask all readers to share the exact address of all the Mallu Messes they know in bangalore. (You can put it as comments)

I shall start: The mess is called Jose ettan's. Its near Christ College. If you are going towards Forum from Christ College take the right turn which takes you to Kairali Restaurant and keep going straight till the road forks. take the left and the road curves to the right. Follow it. The house on the right is Jose Ettan. Anyway once you reach around the area just keep following Mallu looking people and you will reach the place.Tke the effort to go there. Its worth it.

Thud- Ground Realities

2006-07-31T20:51:00.000-07:00

21 minutes of charge remain on the laptop and a whole night separating me,Nizamuddin Station and Udaipur.

Reaching Nizamuddin station at around 6.15 pm meant that I had 45 minutes to find a place to get a print out of my i-ticket. Do not know what it is about me, but quite often end up delaying the most important thing.

A cycle-rickshaw guy began cycling hard with my luggage and me refusing to move at the pace he wanted to. We were looking for an internet café.

Traveling in cycle ricks always make me feel guilty. Even though this was one of the most popular means of transport in Lucknow(where any semblance of a public transport system was far off), I never managed to get over this feeling of guilt, inspite of a two year stint in Lucknow.

As somebody said,”Guilty consciousness only prevents you from enjoying your act and is not strong enough to prevent you from the act”.

Got involved in general chit chat with Mr. Amit who had moved to Delhi from Bihar 8 years ago and had been driving cars and cycling ricks as a means to peddle his life ahead. On the way, he showed me a small lodge and talked about how a guy was caught making a bomb there and how the cops nabbed him. The security in and around the station was definitely more than what I had seen at any of the airports.

Finally we reached a net café and I got my print-out.

So Amit cycled hard again carrying me and my luggage. Man I have become heavy. This guy is struggling to carry me.

Then I got a brainwave.

I needed some exercise and some excitement .Further the guilt about my weight and using somebody else’s muscle power to travel got the better of me.

So for the next 10 minutes the loitering populace of Nizamuddin station got to see me cycling the rick hard with the puny looking Amit in the back seat.
People all round were smiles.

But damn this cycle rick-its not a cycle.
The slightest turn of the handle ,meant a huge turn due to the weight behind.
I had managed to learn how to cycle steady and was just a bend away from the station.

The Last bend approaches
I turned the handle to the right and the whole rick gleefully swerved right and add to that the slight downhill.

Thud

That one last bend was probably there to bring people down to ground realities of life.
After being thrown on to the road, after jamming the brakes hard, I picked myself up and smiled sheepishly at Amit.
I had a hard time in cajoling him to allow me to ride as he said it was not easy for a first timer. He had won. He had a triumphant sneer on his face.

More to follow from Udaipur.

CREST Fallen is not too bad after all

2006-07-29T09:32:00.000-07:00

From one of the comments to the previous post(well the only comment) I infer that the reader thinks I am against discriminatory pricing. Well nothing of that sort.

From the angle of social welfare, first degree price discrimination is not undesirable. Market is still efficient and there is no deadweight loss.Anyway....

Today,was at Sir Gangaram Hospital and was interacting with a very interesting individual from the marketing dept of the hospital, who drank coffee like crazy(we ended up having 3 cups each and then had to learn the art of saying a strong no when asked,"Ek aur Kofee")

Learned a lot of things from him which also included
a) The same treatment and facilities are given to the poor also at lower rates or even free. So thats discriminatory pricingagain.
b)A prostate something surgery is the most painful thing a man can go through(as he described the procedure ;tried my best not to imagine it )

Anyway for the fortunate few who did not know about it:
Prostate Glands are essential to produce testesterone and all the related stuff. And when these glands enlarge it creates a lot of pain when you pee(due to some blocking caused by increased size) and you will end up peeing more frequently due to volume per pee being lower and its a 'pain as u pee' vicious cycle. Anyway the problem can be solved by crushing or atleast shrinking these glands. And a lot of your body has to be opened to reach these glands. --Courtesy the serial coffee drinker's description -adapted and re-presented -with basic concepts only-as internalised by me.
Anyway heres a link on prostate glands for the more visually aided brain types:

Could'nt help wondering:
How a particular procedure can be elevated to the status of most painful.
Had somebody experienced the pain from all surgeries to put Prostate ...whatever.. Surgery at the top of the Most Painful Surgeries Rankings.
Isnt perception of pain from same trigger different for different individuals
Is pain in the head,heart,mind or nerves
How do we standardize or measure pain. Is thre a unit for it

"Ek aur Kofee" interrupted my train of thoughts.
Else I might have just gone on to standardize 1 unit of pain as the amount of pain one feels when one has to go through a one hour lecture of "In fact" I guess you know who. and named the unit of pain as SCB CREST.

People would be saying things like
When that truck went over my foot, I experienced about 20 to 30 milli SCB CRESTS man.
Mel Gibson in Braveheart after all that torture: Ah thats about half a SCB crest I have been subjected to.This is inhumane

Before you accuse me of having increased your SCB CREST levels let me end this post.

Discrimination of the first order

2006-07-27T12:09:00.000-07:00

Well the last few weeks have been hectic with short trips to Chennai,Calicut,Cochin ,Trichur. Currently posting this entry from Delhi. Bangalore is our base camp. Chosen for the very reason of providing cheap travel to all locations. It was a trade off between cost of living vs Cost of travelling.

While travelling by auto today my mind drifted back to CR 105 at IIM L. ATSC(Applied theory in Strategy and Competition) lecture by Prof Anadi Pandey.

First Degree Price Discrimination happens when a seller charges a customer exactly how much he is willing to pay(WTP=willingness to pay).

In short identical goods and services are transacted at different prices from the same provider based on the customers WTP. In a theoretical market with perfect information, no transaction costs and no reselling to prevent arbitrage, price discrimination can only be a feature of a perfect monopoly.

Day 1
Shiv & Me at Delhi: (Flagged down an auto) Nehru Enclave Kalkaji
Auto Guy: 80 Rs
Us: 35 Rs
Auto Guy : Get Lost
Us: Trotting off looking for another auto
Auto Guy : (Following us) Sir 40 Rs
Us: (ah what satisfaction)No, Rs 35
Auto Guy :ok,get in

Day 2 : (Similar spot, we flag another auto) Nehru Enclave,Kalkaji
Auto Guy: 90 Rs
Us: 25 Rs
Auto Guy : Get Lost
Us: Trotting off looking for another auto
Auto Guy : (Following us) Sir 25 Rs
Us: (ah what satisfaction)No, only at 25
Auto Guy :ok,get in

Atleast the Delhi experience was better than Chennai where it was an organized cartel.
Even if you trotted off looking for another auto ....they didnt care a damn....as you were never going to get a better deal.

The city of Calicut probably has the best set of Auto Drivers. They never charge a penny more,know the city inside out and are extremely well mannered.

Anyway adding this to my wishlist:

AutoRickshaws with metres that take into account daily fuel price fluctuations and a rate per km which is more or less similar across the country.

Before I sign off read somewhere that the Indian Auto is catching on big time at Brighton.

Moving to a new Stadium

2006-07-16T12:14:00.000-07:00

Well just thought that I will keep a separate blog that is dedicated to football. partly due to reading up about Adsense and also to spare the unsuspecting visitor to www.ajaxheart.blogspot.com from wondering whats happening when I discuss things like Keneth Perez's transfer going to be a catalyst in a resurgent Ajax under Cates.(more about that later).

So welcome to the new stadium at www.soccerden.blogspot.com

The old stadium will be used to discuss the less important things in life(Company related,daily life related, Interesting incidents and miscellaneous)

Cheers.

He is no more

2006-07-15T08:22:00.000-07:00

The last blog was all about the world cup final described as a flurry of smses to and fro my Nokia 6630.

Well 3 hours ago,I had just gone to play football and I usually carry my purse,mobile and bike key in a small zipper bag which I leave close to the field of play. I play at the grass football ground of Dayanand Sagar College.

After the game a team -mate of mine asked me what I do?

I find this as one of the most difficult questions to deal with.

Memories of a wedding in Trichur, Kerala

A sweet lady with a huge smile(probably she could have eaten a banana sideways):What do you nowadays?

Me: Studying at REC Calicut

Sweet lady: Oh, so you did not get Trichur Engineering college.

(Not mentioning the Version 1.1 of the story while I was studying at IIM L)

At some other wedding(Just few days after passing out of IIM L)

Some other Sweet lady: So what are you doing now?

Me: Well eh(not again) I was studying for Mba, no , actually I am going to . OK I have started
a company of my own with a few batch-mates from IIM L. (I am thinking of something to ask her so that she does not ask me more. But asking her anything might be misread as me being the nice and friendly boy and might lead to the dreaded inevitable- if you catch the eye of a smiling elderly lady at wedding. (a marriage proposal or your name doing the rounds of the marriage market)

Coming back to the point.

After the game a team -mate of mine asked me what I do?

me: Well me with a couple of friends started a company and our office is just 700 metres from here. I come here to play footie in the evening.
What do you do?(before he asks me more)

Team-mate: I am doing my MBA 2nd Sem at Dayanand.

me:Good, thats good(and I silently walk to my bike)

Team-mate: Sir,(Even though I have not been knighted he chose to bestow the tiltle on me temporarily)Can you take me as summer trainee. I have two other friends also. They are also looking for summer projects.I can get a letter from our HOD.

me: Ya we could but we dont have money to pay you but we can give you good quality work.
Wait I shall give you my number. I open the Zipper bag(to give him a missed call) and my phone was missing but the purse was there.(strange, maybe I left the phone at home).
I told him sit behind my bike, I will show you our office.

Team-mate: ok

I show him our office cum home(could not see the reaction change on his face,as it was kind of dim).
He still seemed interested as he asked for my mobile number. I talk to him about the stipend he was looking for and so on. I give him my business card(gulp, that was the last one mmm need to print more of them).

Got back in and felt kindof good at the fact that we might soon be recruiting summer interns.

Looked around for my phone. Nowhere to be seen.

Took Doc's phone and dialled 'Zerin'.

The dreaded voice from the other end:"This number has been switched off"

MY NOKIA 6630 had been stolen and sim-stripped.
Feel like I lost a companion.My outlet to a human voice.
Stuck at home on a rainy Saturday evening(Doc had gone out for a Drink).
Lost with myself.A bad time to lose a lot of phone numbers and an expensive gifted phone.
Let me end this post and look for a good second hand phone online if this ' 1 second on,next second off ',tata indicom broadband connection premits.

The WC ends in a Gross(o) manner.

2006-07-10T12:24:00.000-07:00

From almost being frozen to death by the AC in Shatabdi to the sweltering and sapping heat of Chennai I found myself washing my face with the mineral water that came courtesy traveling in Shatabdi.

The meeting with the possible business partner at MGM resorts in Chennai, went off as expected. It is a different matter that we did not have any expectations. But after a meeting, one likes to think,” Ya, it went off as expected” In short we had moved to square 1.0000001. Nothing to get excited about.

The heat, the lack of sleep, the fact that auto-drivers were unaware of 2 digit fares in Chennai was beginning to get to me.

Finally at around 10.30 pm settled comfortably in a bus (which had Volvo painted on its back- reminding me of the childhood stories of wolf in sheep’s clothing).It was a proper con job. Volvo fares for a Volvo like appearance and a washing machine like ride.

But my mind was elsewhere. Today either Zidane or Cannavaro would be lifting the Trophy. And I was picturing the whole thing from my mind’s eye aided by a flurry of live smses.
Just prior to the game starting placed the usual pre-match bets with Abhisar on phone.

Abhisar: Odds de
Zerin: Whom do you want to bet on?
Abhisar: France
Zerin: I don’t want to bet on Italy.
Abhisar: Give me odds on Barthez screwing up
Zerin: 1:1 , he has screwed up in every game, it’s a different matter that nobody has capitalized
Abhisar: Odds on Barthez screwing up and Italy scoring
Zerin: Chal 1:5
Abhisar: 1000 bucks bet
Zerin: ok agreed,bye

11.42 pm
sms message from Abhisar: Zidane scores a penalty.Bad decision by ref to award the penalty
sms message from Sandeep: Zidane scores off a penalty.10 mins

Sandeep: Not two world cups man. France don’t deserve it.

Zerin: France don’t, but Zidane

Sandeep: External locus of control for your thoughts.

11.53 Sandeep: Italy equalize. Matterazzi header off a corner.

Zerin: Shucks. He is been a big player for them this WC.

12.10: Sandeep: Toni hits the crossbar from header (Phew! Each sms opened with a lot of trepidation by me)

12.18 Zerin: What’s happening.No smses. Is Zidane tired?
Sandeep:France not getting much possession. They r attacking ok ok tho.

12.30 Sandeep: Half time.1-1. The penalty was unfair. Malouda is a makalouda

12.33 Sandeep: I hate France,except for one player. Italy has been the team of the WC.

Zerin: Italy are fave. But Lippi’s team’s do choke in the final. Hope Zizou’s exit is deserving of his greatness.

12.37 Sandeep: Italy looking stronger. France don’t look like they have a goal in them and no Saha to bring on.

12.44:Sandeep: France may make me eat my words, a bright start to the 2nd half. Almost a penalty. France are playing brilliant footie.

1.10 am France still attacking. Viera off injured. Italy defending deep.

(The whole bus sleeping and Doc snoring next to me.Fifa World cup 2006 final at 1-1 and only sms’es from Sandy updating me on the score)

1.19: Del Piero on .5 minutes left.

1.25: Extra-time

(Thoughts of Zidanes left footed volley of a football that came down in slow motion in the Champ League finals against Bayer flash through my head. Cometh the hour cometh the man. Eagerly awaiting the next sms seriously expecting it to be the last master piece in Zidanes career. A brilliant moment of inspiration .

1.52: Sandeep: ZIDANE RED CARD. HEAD BUTT. I WANNA DIE.

Zerin: WTF, Whom did he head butt.
Sandeep: Materazzi
Zerin: how many minutes left
Sandeep: 10
Zerin: Shit man, what a sad way to end a career. He always had the nasty streak in him. Even in 98 man.

2.03: Sandeep: Penalties
Zerin: This is tense to get sms updates on WC final penalty shoot out.
Sandeep:
Pirlo Score
( a huge wait)

Wiltord Score
(a longer one)

Materra Score

Trez miss
Zerin: fuck
Sandeep: De Rossi 3-1
Abidal 3-2
Zerin: Come on Barthez
Sandeep: Piero Score
Sagnol Score
Zerin: Come on Barthez pleeeeez

The next sms would tell me if the Azzuri(the team I have historically hated for their defensive style and their dirty antics- Australians would testify) had done it.

Sandeep: ITALY WIN THE CUP.Screw france.

Zerin: Who scored the last one.

Sandeep: Grosso. Feel bad for Trez. Poor guy hit crossbar underside and fell just outside the line. Only guy to miss.

Zerin: Foolish decision. With his Juve mate Buffon keeping , Trez should not have been taking a penalty.

Sandeep: But he send the goalkeeper the wrong way.

Zerin: ayway,it's ovwer. feel empty.Chal thanx and bye. see you tomorrow.

Kick Off

2006-07-08T11:02:00.000-07:00

My first blog.

Motivation came from reading other peoples blogs and enjoying them and am going through a phase of life which is emotionally intensive, which I would like to look back and smile at later.

Doc and me will be going to Chennai to meet up a possible business partner . Will be taking a train at 5 am and returning by bus the very same day.

Since I can't get up at 5 am (considering my current sleep cycle has me waking up after 11), I will not be sleeping tonight. So a lot of time and idle thoughts.
mmm around Rs 2000 of travel expenses for the trip to Chennai. Money is tight. The oncoming crunch has started making its tremors into my thought process. Will the trip be worth anything.

Just as I was typing this the back rest of the office chairs purchased collapsed under my weight and I almost fell down with my laptop. But fortunately I am back up and resiliently pursuing my first blog post,with literally nothing to fall back on. By the way this is the 2nd of the office chairs behaving similarly.(Doc opened the account)

There is an interesting story about the office chairs. It was sold to us by some Mr. Srinivas at a dirt cheap price after his start-up bombed. Just a day prior to that my partner Sandeep had purchased a second hand Activa from some Mr. Srinivas and the house we were moving into
was owned by some other Mr. Srinivas. Just as we were speculating about the co-incidence of 3 Srinivas' coming into our lives a fourth one came in with a keen interest at helping us with our maiden venture. To this day he is our mentor and possible source of funds as he believes in what we are doing.

But the back rest of the chairs given by Srinivas No:1 is no more.

So I guess it's about time we stopped leaning back and relaxing.