Thursday, June 25, 2009

Grey ol' Pune

College wasn’t really a neon dream.
It came with its fair share of ranty, biased professors,
And young blood on a power trip, fuelled by ganja.
But on days like today,
When the weather is conspiring against the order,
And authority is breathing down my throat,
I miss those days when I could stare out the window,
In an Advertising Ethics class,
Turn around and say,
Please! Let’s just go!

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Your weakest link.

Just recently, I decided to up my knowledge base of yoga by opting for a group study of the Patanjali scriptures. I’m one among fifteen odd people who start all sessions by chanting the universal ‘Om’.
During the last few days I’ve come to notice, that a particularly verbose member of the group is always out of sync. He’s always a step ahead, a bit too loud, too fast and too far out than rest of the gang. This shouldn’t annoy me because, ideally, I should be keeping my mind to myself rather than have it deviate to his vocal cords, but it does. What’s more troubling is that everyone else seems to be extremely nonchalant about it.

Over donkey’s years of having worked with people, I’ve met so many of these, who slow groups down or formulate their own rhythm and just throw the idea of smooth group dynamics out the window to drown in the deep dark sea. Not once, but multiple times. And more often than not, they’re hard to reason with. Also, be sure that while working with them, you won’t have to think twice about the ‘W’ or ‘T’ for your team’s SWOT analysis. These guys become the W and the T. They become your weakness and your internal threat!

So, what do we do with these kind of people?
- Ignore them.
- Interrupt their rhythm and ask them (get them by their collar if you must) to get in sync.
- Or plainly appreciate the fact that their drummer’s a tad bit different and let them do their own thing.

?

SWOT: Marketing acronym for Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, Threats

Thursday, June 18, 2009

And then my stomach won't flip anymore.

When someone asks either of us how we know each other, my stomach is going to flip. Once again.

Because, I know that when it happens, we’ll dart looks at each other, but you'll still be as poised as ever, and mention the most obvious and believable thing, as you did the last time. People will say, “Oh yeah?”, and we will both laugh. Albeit politely.

As much as I think we need to come up with a story for society (since there are very few people who would accept the randomness of ours and find it funny), I think its ok that we don’t. Because most of the time, I enjoy the part that ensues this conversation.

The part where we walk out silently, look at each other, start laughing crazy and say, “We need to come up with a better story. Fast!”

Monday, June 15, 2009

Remember those days …

When we ‘did’ FLAMES to find out if our puppy love was reciprocated?
When we drew little notes and ‘proposed’?
When we thought girls with short P.T. skirts were trying hard to be sexy?
When dividing the desk into India and Pakistan was considered so Standard 4?



Good God they’re over!
For it was also the time that my sweet mother cut my hair like she would a boy's, and when Mrs. Paul laid her eyes on it, she exclaimed, “But this short?”

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

To the Madus and their snack packs*...

When it’s neither time for breakfast nor lunch,

And because I’m not at a derby where they ‘do’ brunch,

My stomach is a-rumble, I can hear it tumble and it can’t take it's hunger any more!

O how! O how! I never thought I’d miss your khakhras & kachoris so!



*dedicated to the inhabitants of 334 & 327, owners snack packs(suitcases) so delicious, they will be cherished forever!

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Lagori

Foot on the crooked chalk line, one after another,
Wiping beads of sweat with sleeves, no bother.

Tiny hands clenching a red rubber ball,
‘Neat maar haa’, the ultimate motivational call.

Arrey just missed’, and much forehead slapping,
Eudhach asel tarr you try na’, some more snickering.

The Lagori glared at the little people, all untouched,
Small hearts, bodies and eyes, drenched in chaos!

‘Tey bagh, the other team got their Yokozuna’,
‘She will maaro a big kick! Aata dhaava!’

Our big tower came, crashing down with a groan;
And as the floors got strewn everywhere,
We dashed to gather our seven stones.

Sikkim walee chai

And how I remember chaar-so-teen,
Just a king, with many a queen.

And how the blue sofa was abused,
For love, for rest, to seat the muse.

And how the cracks in the wall weren’t just a metaphor,
Telling the story of doom, from long before.

And how the music room was the getaway of all time,
For strings, tears, for Neal Schon put to rhyme.

And how blistered fingers and sambhaji were the order of the day,
Not a thought of retreat, to change our way.

And how Pallavi was the perfect wife,
In times of flood and other such strife.

And how we were the weakest link,
Love’s labor lost, all etched in ink.

And how Kundera told our tale,
Anger and desperation, hung out for sale.

And how chaar-so-teen saw so much,
Bundled with love, loaded with lust.



But then I added one and a half of sugar, instead of two,
Surprisingly forgot I used to make it for you.


Monday, June 8, 2009

Wondrous Wanderous

My mind is a melting pot of thoughts.
Much like Paris.
Only, less prettier.
With lesser bread.
And fewer cobblestones.
But with a lot more sunshine.
And more color.
More sights, smells, tongues and sounds.
And just as wander-ous.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

The small goblin with the big ears listened...

And learned...

That the past was destiny,

The future will be free will,

And the present is most utterly joyous.

... And awesome!*



* Then the goblin left work really early. Most utterly awesome, indeed. Theory proved.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

The cost of being loud and abrasive...

Men who want to be loud and abrasive must realize that being loud and abrasive comes at a price!

Case in point: Big guy at workplace being loud and abrasive. As much as this might be his true self on a normal day, what he also is on a normal day is, angry, unhealthy and fat. Now I don’t hold that against him. Neither do I expect him to look like Michelangelo’s David or anything. But the tight t-shirts with the pot belly, the diamond ear stud and the crazy 'I-can’t-wait-to-get-my-hands-on-you-mofo’ look makes you wonder about the workings of his mind! Apart from that, he's got the gait of the don who hides in the stone walls of Mumbai's Dagdi Chawl. And I suspect that he carries a dagger in his lap top case as well.

Now, my question is, if you have all of these other beautiful things going for you (or not, depending on which way you look at it), why are you making your vocal cords go that extra mile?

With no intention of being offensive (really really!), why would someone want to draw attention to their very attractive selves by screaming … so loud, for the smallest of things, in a corporate environment?

The last time I checked, people like this were working towards being more acceptable. Rethinking, reworking and rewiring the things that weren’t in their control. Now this, this is just in the complete opposite direction!

Obersvation: Being loud and abrasive comes at a price, like most things.
A price that involves looking good or having a sense of humor or possessing some kind of a talent (one that's vastly acceptable*) or having some character (also one that is vastly acceptable) and I’m sure a host of other things that I'm not listing it out right now.

And before you think it, this isn’t my bias towards pretty people.
This is my inference that pretty boys who might be screaming just might be easier to tolerate than not so pretty guys who are screaming!

* No! Making PowerPoint presentations is not a skill.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Never mind the reasons…

When you say ‘Yes’ and then follow it up with a ‘But’ it means ‘NO’

You will never know where I stray when you play that song...

Perhaps a balcony, a cab or a house in a tree.
Or perhaps that night, some yellow light and a table for three.