The 7AM decision tree

Ever wondered why that additional hour of early morning sleep's so satisfying? It's all about not hurting others... honestly!

Research* shows the following complex decision-making process takes place in every guy's mind daily at around 7 AM so don't feel guilty; just indulge!

* This research was conducted in the DevilsWorkshop by the idlemindedfella smiling at u from the right corner of ur window!

PS: Girls pls replace Jolie with Pitt!

27 years

The title's not a typo! I didn't mean 27 dresses that Star Movies (or is it HBO?!?) has decided to screen atleast once every week. In a sort of reflective, admonishing, satisfied and determined way, it means my age! Well, 22nd May 2009 is when I completed 9862 days (yeah, 27 years including the leaps) on planet earth and almost let out a "Yahooooooo, I'm the king of the world!" shout from atop my building's terrace! Thanks for that "Happy Birthday" you just sang quietly in the corner of your mind but wishes aside, this time I thought I'd do something I've never done before - a birthday resolution !!

A glance through my blog (the timestamps rather!) and you'll know very well that this guy's writing is amusing, but he writes only once every few years! Tadaaa - that's the bedrock of my resolution. When I started writing this blog (Circa 2005), I thought the only problem I had was the starting problem. It's pretty clear that continuum is also something I struggle with. That's the animal I've decided to attack with this resolution. So here it is:

"Thou shalt publish >= 1 new post every month"

And re-starting with a bang is the new, all-improved "DevilsWorkshop" with a touch of green, a bit about myself and the "@ISB" series - stuff that I wrote over the last one year at the Indian School of Business (scroll below).

For all you skeptics out there, I shall come back to this post same time next year and show 12 additional posts (atleast) of the kind that you'll would enjoy!

It can’t happen to me! (@ISB)

“I hate the way it sounds like a deadline dude!” Preeth grumbled the night before his first blog-post for this space was due. “I don’t even understand why they chose me in the first place; I write such random stuff!” he went on while I just kept giving him what I thought was an empathising look. Internally grinning that I’d already posted my first entry and thought of the topic for the 2^nd one as well, I told him “Bro don’t worry, we’re the diversity candidates in here; we’re EXPECTED to write random stuff!” And what an amazing post he put up soon after! Little did I realise that it’d soon be my turn to crib as I sat in front of the laptop the night before my third entry was due, my mind resonating with the exact feeling Preeth’s had the other day. It’s not that there’s nothing interesting to write about. In fact it’s the opposite with so many crises choosing to bless us these days, leaving us wondering about the world that’ll be left for our kids to get into.

So, as I sat wondering what to write about, my mind kept going back to that quasi-devilish grin that I allowed myself the other day. “Ha, he’s the one in trouble, I’m safe!” – If not verbatim, at least this is the crux of what I was telling myself while empathetically hearing out Preeth’s ramblings. This is a clear symptom of the “It can’t happen to me!” syndrome that seems to be plaguing the human mind these days. Well, of course I had a reason and all that, but that it’s an instinctive human characteristic is my hypothesis here. One of our professors remarked that we possess a false sense of security which for instance, allows us to be confident about cracking an exam even though we know that we didn’t so much as glance at that last 30% of the course material. The amazing part is that even after looking dismayed at questions from that part of the course in the exam, we still manage to walk out with our head held high, thinking that it’d have been tough for everybody! And by the time the scores are out, all is forgotten and the next set of exams set in.

Talking of exams, I saw a Hindi movie at the end of our 4^th term exams (before the horrifying events in Mumbai unfolded) called “A Wednesday” that was about terrorism and a common man’s uncommon response to it. At the risk of admonishment from the core team (we’re NOT supposed to write movie reviews here), let me delve a little into the theme of that movie that stuck with me. Bomb blasts have become so common in India these days that it’s almost routine “breaking news” for the media, so much that sometimes an actor’s intestinal problems are given more importance. Why is it this way? Like the protagonist in the movie puts it, we get used to atrocities very easily. As soon as there’s news about an explosion, it’s all over the channels, websites, papers and we gorge in the details with utmost concern. Frantic calls to friends and relatives in the affected areas to confirm their well-being coupled with some “Where’s the world going to?” conversations and the episode is soon forgotten. Till the next bomb goes off in a place where somebody we care for, lives. Somehow, we have this innate belief that this can’t happen to me! I’d like to believe that the Mumbai episode has changed this thinking in many of us, but to what extent? Enough to comment that the country’s polity is ruled by corrupt, inefficient aficionados who chose to rest on their backs despite getting prior intelligence information about the attacks? Maybe I’m being too harsh on the populace here. Or maybe it’s the sense of helplessness that ironically helps this feeling set in. I mean, what CAN you do if an RDX explodes beneath your seat in the bus? So why worry about it in the first place because IF it happens to me, I’d be history before I could do anything about it. Or perhaps, we don’t perceive ourselves as powerful enough to combat the terror powers of the world and end up developing a strong inner belief system that keeps reminding us that somehow I shall never fall victim to this madness.

Another instance of this syndrome was seen in our responses to the current financial crisis. Though temporarily sidelined by the terror-strike, the home loans that are threatening to leave us all homeless still receive an ode or two in any discussion, report, lecture, or news item. Again a classic example of our fetish for that false sense of security; this time backed by stinking mortgages. After dozens of articles, cartoons, debates and forwards, we now know that housing prices do not always go up and every single loan in a pile of MBSs can actually default! But by dismissing this as another case of the frivolity of the American spending culture that will never happen in India, aren’t we again falling into the same It can’t happen to me trap? Of course the conservative Indian mindset, together with the goons (loan recovery agents, if you may!) that our banks infamously deploy will help in preventing such a calamity befalling our financial system, but in this open world economy of today the butterfly effect is well and truly operational. Ask those investors who lost their fortunes on the red October (Friday, the 10^th of October, 2008 when the Sensex nose-dived) or ask that college topper who declined multiple job offers because Lehman had given him a green slip. Dinner-table discussions reveal such mishaps happening twice over to people in the batch – those who graduated from institutes in 2001-02 faced tremendous pressures due to the dotcom bust and 9/11. Many such people struggled their ways through corporate life and embarked upon the MBA journey this year, shelling out their life’s savings for that degree that’d put them on the fast track only to see history repeat itself in a slightly different (and stronger perhaps?) flavour. So, if it can happen to them many times over, it sure can happen to me (or you!) anytime, isn’t it?

Hey by the way, did I just unearth the next potential Nobel-winning theory? Duh, it can’t happen to me!

Of arranged marriages, math and chemistry (@ISB)

That ISB is a T-15 business school is a pretty mundane actuality; the spicy tidbit is that the institute conducted 89 arranged marriages in 2008, and the numbers are slated to cross the three-figure mark next year. Hell no, I’m not talking about the campus lovebirds who gatecrash 3AM post-submission ramblings that can’t tolerate Black-Scholes any more. I’m actually trying to glorify (vilify?) the concept of study groups. It is the duty of the institute to “marry” every one of the 442 blue-eyed wannabe business leaders of the morrow who rode past the Peacock zone on 12th April 2008 to 3 or 4 other such strangers for the next 6 months, irrespective of their nuptial history. These unfortunate souls have to stick to each other (literally, sometimes) over the course of the first 4 core terms (spanning 6 months) and submit on an average, 3 assignments every week. Generally these groups have 5 members but since 442 cannot be physically split into 88.4 groups of 5 people each, I found myself stuck with 3 stags. So, what’s the logic behind a business school indulging in such social activities? Well the thinking goes something like this – more often than not (read “always”) you don’t have the luxury to choose your boss at work; and your colleagues are chosen by the boss you couldn’t choose in the first place. These 6 months are thus part of a simulation exercise where you can’t choose who you’ll work with. And how are these groups formed? In the absence of verifiable sources of information, I’d love to say it’s randomised, but then this post would end right here. So here’s to speculation!

One of the many pearls of wisdom I’ve learnt in the past 6 months is that there are two major aspects that make a team great at work – Math and Chemistry. The variables involved in the math are categorical in nature and represent the skill-sets and/or work experience of the student. The criterion is to eliminate the possibility of duplication in a group. For instance, no group has two chartered accountants (CAs). The institute tries to be as stringent as possible with this rule, but then there are so many of the infamous, though widely popular IIMs (Indian, IT, Male) in the class, this sometimes doesn’t work out. But the bottomline is to bring in as many diverse backgrounds and varied experiences as possible in every group. Add to this the fact that being a strongly opinionated person is almost a prerequisite to receiving the congratulatory message from the ISB admissions office, and you have the perfect recipe for WAR. It’s almost as if everybody has agreed to disagree beforehand. And that my friend, is precisely the challenge you face first up when u decide to get back to school. Tell me a better way (read “easier way”) to prepare oneself for the challenge of working closely with strangers and getting things done under extreme deadline pressures and I’d be goddamn interested.

Once the math issue is addressed for the majority of the populace (I did pity the CA-less groups during Investment Analysis homeworks!), its time to get some Chemistry into place. It’s not a breakthrough innovation that the attitude of “the whole is greater than the sum of its parts” is the backbone of a great team. But then, how do you ensure good chemistry between people who haven’t even met each other ever in their lives? Well, you don’t! The institute just takes care of the math and then sits back to see the drama unfold as these strangers go through high-octane debates, discussions, fights, fallouts and eventually labour-division in search of the optimal strategy to get things done with high quality under insane timelines as a group. It doesn’t require a rocket scientist (or an MBA for that matter!) to find out that the optimal 3rd term strategy is for the accountant to do the asset valuations of Corporate Finance while the engineer optimizes the Operations homework.

Interesting stories do the rounds on campus gossip regarding study group meetings – from potential dean-listers arguing over 4th decimal errors in a 2% weightage assignment at 4 AM to the group that allotted turns for every member to go and drop the report in the submission box on time. Top talent typically struggles at teamwork, and you get to see ample evidence of this theory at bschool. Egos get hurt, allegations are made, responsibilities are shirked, commitments are questioned and competencies are challenged. But… the work gets done. Through this entire milieu that lasts for more than 30 hours a week for half a year, few people find out they just can’t tolerate that Page-3 celebrity attitude in some, while a few others find that special person they can’t live without for the rest of their lives! The moderately lucky fellas like me get to enjoy good company at 4:30 in the morning over a heady combination of Heineken and Haldiram!

THAT to me, is diversity!

What number 1 – Quits

The word “eventful” throws up “exciting”, “action-packed”, “lively”, and “hectic” as synonyms in Bill’s MSWORD, but none of these come close to describing the last 4 months of my life. As I was being cajoled, requested and even scolded by all my goody goody friends to write (read blog) frequently ( isn’t once a year good enough??? ;-) ), I had to admit there was a helluva lot to write about. But, as usual, there was the starting problem. How do I structure all this crap, and worse still, how do I make it attention-grabbing? Chronology, screamed the logical (yeah, it does exist) part of my brain (yeah, this exists too!!!). Naah, that’d be so bloody boring, exactly like those travelogues where the only interesting things are the pictures (foreign material esp. ). And, just like my new manager mentioned the other day, I do prefer a bit of chaos, though not too much.

So, while trying to structure the chaos happening around me, I decided to group the events based on any underlying common trait shared by them and this is the first of (hopefully!!) many more to come.

Quit number 1

The second half of 2006 saw me quitting a couple of things, the first of which was increasingly becoming an unbearable torture to put up with day in and day out. Yes, you got it right, I quit my 28 month old job with India’s Pride in IT (no name-calling, I hate lawyers!!).

I’ve been brought up on the belief that there’s only one kind of luck and that’s bad. There haven’t been too many instances in my 24-year 5-month existence to suggest otherwise either. As a result, I’ve never banked on my luck for anything because of the innate (mis?)trust in its ability to come good when it matters. Yet, when it comes to digging me out of hell-holes like the ones I fell into on Mysore Road (my first tryst with a bike accident, the 3-inch long scar’s still visible when u part the hair leftover on my head), or the clash with the unarmed cow ( my 2nd tryst when on a bike, see http://idlemindedsri.blogspot.com/2005/08/man-machine-and-cow.html ), Lady Luck has always had a crush on me J. So, it was that Lovely Lady once again who came to my rescue when I was stuck in a living hell-hole, this time not on the road but inside the cubicles of a building by the same road where cows graze casually.

My work was challenging for the first 8-10 months, but then incessant calls about some godforsaken deal getting rejected everyday and softwares hanging in suspended animation with the omnipresent hourglass indicating something’s up in the backyard, do make u mad soon, if not immediately. Add to that a vengeful manager who’s always ready to nail ur ass down, and I had the perfect recipe for a professional disaster. Living to deal with a cell phone that bawls anytime during the day and/or night with irate bankers on the verge of tearing their larynx to shreds and the image of a tyrant boss wielding a threatening “How can you do something so irresponsible??” look was getting a bit too much to handle and besides, I wasn’t even getting something worthy of being called a salary for taking all this shit. So I decided to look beyond the walls of the esteemed image of my world-conquering organization.

It was precisely at this time that I got in touch with a couple of batchmates with whom I’d lost contact since my college days (can’t believe that was more than 3 years ago, man am i THAT OLD???) and they were working for the company which takes in almost everyone who go out of mine. The pace at which events unfolded after that reunion confirmed my faith in Lady Luck’s love for me. I mean, how often do u suddenly get back in touch with a friend working in the company u wanna get into, at exactly the time u r desperately looking for a change and that person actually sits next to a team looking for people who’ve got some knowledge in the domain u’ve spent the last two years in?

The disappointing aspect about this quit was that it did not have the desired effect on my boss. I was half expecting her to jump out of her seat in shock and surprise, but she took the news with such poise that I doubt she knew this was coming. I later learnt that she was actually playing the waiting game. It is a GARP (Generally Accepted Relieving Principle) that once u put in ur papers, the notice period is ur second honeymoon (training period being the first) but no, it turned out to be more like the battle period which usually follows the honeymoon. After trying to thrust every piece of irritating work towards me in an attempt at making my last few days horrible, if not memorable, and fighting tooth and nail over glitches in those pieces, she relented to let go 2 weeks later than my intended date of release. Thus I quit what I’d endured for 2 years and the primary feeling was not joy, but relief when the HR representative who took my exit interview babbled “What you’ve written as reasons for your resignation in this form are pretty descriptive indeed. Is there anything else you’d like to say?”

Quit number 2

This post is becoming longer than I’d anticipated and is also increasingly sounding like the serial Govinda movies (I seriously dunno what’s with the number 1 and number 2… the creative part of my brain’s well… as usual, on leave today… sorry). Before u decide to click that cross at the top of the window, lemme get to the point. The second thing I quit recently was something I’ve been practicing diligently for the past 3 years, notwithstanding multiple attempts, sometimes serious, sometimes not so serious, at sabotaging its regularity. Smoking. Ok, I can see that “Smokers quit every day” look crossing your face and I do agree that abstaining for 3 months doesn’t guarantee that I’ll never turn back to that 74 mm of paper rolled with cancer. So, what is it that makes me so bloody confident about not returning to the easy habit of giving in to temptation that I’m actually writing about it in my workshop?

My very close friend has told me many times that he would quit puffing away if only he can get himself addicted to some other habit which doesn’t puncture your lungs, or kidney for that matter. Whenever I’ve declared that I’m gonna stop this fast track to death, I’ve always tried to find some reason to overcome the addiction to tobacco, and that’s precisely why I haven’t been successful. This time I realized, thankfully, that it is not about the tobacco, or the nicotine. It’s about the habit itself. And that friend of mine guided me unknowingly towards the solution to this predicament. I made “Non-smoking” a habit and am in the process of getting addicted to it. Sounds outright funny and absurd, isn’t it? If u’ve never been overpowered by any habit ever, u might already have rubbished what I’m saying but those who’ve tried to kick some habit or the other desperately might see some sense in what I’m trying to say.

Everyone who knows me well enough will vouch for the fact that I have a big bloated ego. In trying to use that to my advantage, I took this as a personal challenge to my self control and decided to fight the urge to go for the puff after every meal with an equal and opposite urge to satiate my ego. Being in a new place where nobody knows whether I smoke or not was a plus too, as I can very well decline that I’m an addict whenever I’m offered a puff. But, I’m a very poor liar and I end up saying “No thanks, I’ve quit.” which evokes a “Ha, lets see how many days u hold on” or a “Who’s the girl?” response. I use this to fuel the challenge to my ego. “Yes boss, lets see how long I’m able to hold myself back, and I don’t need a girl to tell me my lungs r on fire!!”

PS: I jus hope my parents never get to this site…

The Why?? & the What?

Someone rightly said that I find the time and inclination to write only when there’s a significant change in my life, or something I think is juicy enough a topic to invest my otherwise precious time on. So, a change it is, that has brought me to the doors of the modern world almighty (read Google), keyboard in hand and thoughts waiting to flow through my fingers.

I don’t know why I have this need to justify anything and everything I do to myself, including this decision to write on something after such a long time, but since it’s there, let me structure this piece into the why and what sections for better readability.

WHY ? ?

There are two, not so mutually exclusive, parts to the why question (and hence the 2 qn. Marks – my feeble attempt at creativity!!!) – why did I not write for so long, and why have I decided to write something now.

Lets take the first why and try answering it. No, you are not gonna find the answer to the most intriguing puzzle in the world here, on the other hand, its just gonna be a small passage into the psychic of yet another selfish homosapien. I say selfish because here I am, writing something about myself and expecting the entire world (or at least a miniscule percentage of it) to spend their precious time reading it.

Now, isn’t that a mammoth task to accomplish, given the fact that everyone in this world likes talking about him/herself, but being the listener when someone is going through the I, Me, and Myself takes some for some and a lot for some, patience. When such is the case with one-on-one conversations, where you are bound by the limitations of body language and escape routes are constricted to that one elusive phone or nature’s call, imagine my plight when I have to actually write about it, where the listener (reader in this case) just has to click to evade my barrage of self-centric expletives. The only solution is to try and make it interesting, but aren’t “interesting” and “ME” two totally disjoint sets?

By now I’m sure it’s bloody clear that I’m not a natural when it comes to articulation (written or verbal), and definitely a novice when it is about myself. So, it takes a lot of effort and a bit of coaxing and/or accolades from the external world to make me type. Accolades here vary from an encouraging scrap to the mention of my writing skills in a conversation, so in effect it actually doesn’t take much to make me write!!!

So, after successfully contradicting myself, let me accept the fact that I was just a tad too lazy to type J.

Coming to the second why, there have been quite a few happenings in the interlude between virginity and the Why & what, which I think will make my task of combining the two aforesaid disjoint sets effectively a bit if not a lot, easier.

WHAT ?

This is the most dangerous section, as it has the ability to ward off potential listeners who have already been immensely patient to have come this far…

So, what is it that I’m gonna write about?

A change in job, which brought with it, a change of place and a refreshing influx of people into my life which already did have its own share of quite a few spl individuals. Within the span of a month, I’ve actually had enough encounters with a variety of entities ranging from real estate agents to autoemperors to long lost friends to brand new ones to the art of moneymaking to fill up my next blog… So, see ya arnd again soon (hopefully J)…

Virginity – Wat does it mean to u?

After such a long hiatus, i almost feel like shouting "Hello World" at the top of my voice (reminded of ur first java program, eh??? ;))... no, i still havent got back on my feet fully, but have somehow finally dragged myself to type out this post...... well well well, the topic is controversial, to say the least, and ppl in TN will immly realise why i've come up with this piece at this time of the year...... anyway, to assist the uninitiated, a veteran tamil actress (lets call her Ms.X, for ease of typing) recently found to her dismay that airing one's opinions about sex, in India (TN, in particular) can lead to high levels of emotional and mental trauma.... Instead of receiving a pat on her back for being honest abt something sensitive, she now faces a defamation suit against her….. I'm not here to express my unstinting support to Ms.X or to curse the public who revolted against her..... I'm basically concerned abt a couple of things here - one is that everybody has their right to speech, and in this case, I felt that Ms.X was well within her boundaries when she responded to a question from a magazine conducting a survey.... but the uproar that resulted from her remarks only reflects the narrow-mindedness of our revered Indian public for whom, the subject of sex, let alone pre-marital, has always been taboo. It was a highly personalised opinion expressed by Ms.X and is nothing more or less than that. If u are not able to agree to her point of view, that’s ur problem, and u can air out ur contradictory statement as well, but alas, burning effigies of celebrities has become a fashion these days and starting from Sourav’s in Allahabad to Chappell’s in Kolkata, we Indians seem to relish showing off our dissent publicly to matters ranging from honest personal opinions to the duties of certain highly placed officials. Anyway, this blog is not abt the right to freedom of speech, so let’s move on to my second concern brought about by this celeb controversy – the qn. of pre-marital sex and virginity. As a guy, I would not attach too much importance to either of these, and I daresay that most guys wud agree…… it is when u r a girl (esp., an Indian girl) that these terms are of paramount importance and somehow, the term ‘purity’ and ‘liberty’ spring to the mind of any female who comes across this magic V-word. The qn. is, why? Why is it that virginity means so much for a girl and not so for a guy? Is it only because it’s not physically possible to determine if a guy’s a virgin, while that’s not the case with the fairer sex? Has nature herself conspired against our fellow inhabitants from Venus by depriving them the right to determine if their better half is as “pure” as they are(in most Indian cases, atleast)? As u can see, I’m not a male chauvinist but lemme add that I hate feminists. Then why has this topic struck a chord with me?? Basically because I think I believe in love, more than anything else, and if u r well and truly in love with ur partner (husband/wife, boy/girlfriend, whatever) u wud be least bothered abt his/her past and virginity will cease to mean no more than a simple anatomical fact.

But ppls’ reaction to Ms.X’s remarks disappointed me completely…. Somehow, Indian society’s double standards seem to be more than playing their part here…. Our society is currently in a transitional state, with the middle-class values conflicting with the more liberal western values esp., wrt the topic. This state is a very delicate one, and maybe the only fault with Ms.X was that she failed to realise the significance of a lighted cigar in a haystack godown and was stupid enuf to be brutally honest abt something which has always been considered taboo in our gr8 country.

The Path treaded...

Well, having promised a career oriented post in my previous blog, I realised how easy it is to make promises and how bloody tuff it is to keep ‘em….. As usual, starting problems held me back, n though I initially thot of one blog per day till my leg’s back in shape, the topic for this one’s really proving to be a bigger hurdle than I thot…

I have never been clear about what I want from life and maybe that’s why I was instigated to declare that I would blog abt my future plans. My bro (3 yrs elder, currently pursuing his second M.S in Chicago) has been the greatest influence on the choices that have been made in my career so far n he’ll continue to be the single most major factor in future as well (understandably).

To start with, after my 10^th std, it was based on my bro’s experiences with IIT coaching classes n CBSE 11^th-12^th that it was decided to shift me over to TN state board where the principle of gulp n vomit holds true even today (no wonder thr were so many illads (bitsian slang for ppl from tamil origin) in bits when I joined. That bits has introduced an entrance test is surely gonna adversely affect the already dwindling no. of admits from TN and also the USP of the great chain of DAV Matriculation schools. DAV was where I studied my 11^th n 12^th, n I really dunno how I managed to jus study n do nuthin else worth mentioning for 2 whole years still puzzles me. I have never been able to put my mind to acads with as much dedication n sincerity ever since n it is a constant topic of debate with my parents whenever the qn. of my future n the irrepressible need for a PG at this stage of my life crops up (which is, almost everyday!!). So, I ghotted (again, bitsian slang for studying hard!) my soul out for 2 years, n landed in bits pilani B.E (Hons) Mechanical.

If I start off abt my life in bits, it’ll rob me of the chance to post atleast another 4-5 blogs, so we’ll skip tht part keeping in mind that I was a pretty ordinary guy, jus like anyone else who wanted to score the max possible in his 12^th so that he cud get admission into one of the most prestigious institutions in the country, and succeeded in that. And on graduation, like everyone else again, there were two options in front of me – GRE or CAT because by then the writing was crystal clear on the wall that u cant survive long with just a bachelor’s degree. A crucial moment in the decision-making stage of another significant moment in my life, n again, steps in my bro, acting as a giant ladle helping me stay afloat in the maddening sea of (I hate to the cut-throat cliché) ruthless competition. GRE is a no-no, he says, again based on his experiences (FYI, he finished his BE in Tanjore, TN and, presumably, went to Uncle Sam for re-Searching) which ranged from scouting for financial aid, being scoffed at as a foreigner, going penniless for months n other such instances which are prescribed along with the package called M.S. But these elder siblings tend to become over-protective at times and want nuthin but the best for their cherished younger, n my bro was no different. Opportunities in India are growing at a rapid rate n US is no longer the only happening place to be, so u better stay back n take a shot at CAT. So, when PS-II happened, IMS too happened n that was my first tryst with the exam regarded as the toughest in the country to crack. Presumably, I cracked n returned home with dismal figures (lets stop with that without getting to the actual numbers, pls!!)

In the meantime, campus interviews happened n I got a job offer in Minda (not Mirinda!!) industries in Gurgaon. Thrilled at the prospect of earning n not having any other viable option (than CAT 2003), I accepted the offer. The initial few months were wonderfully inactive (training n more training), n we were a group of ppl eager to bell the CAT. As luck wud have it, I was one of the thousands who was absolutely sure that I’d cracked it this time, only to hear that a certain don named Ranjith was proactive enuf to supply the qn papers students beforehand. Re-test ensued and the result: A marginal increase in the magical percentile, nonetheless insufficient to make it to the crème de la crème of Indian B-Schools.

Meanwhile, a transfer in my job saw me go to the Indian capital, n having travelled thru the dirtiest parts of the city already for 4 years, I was desperate to bid goodbye to New Delhi. Infosys, offered a relief in the form of an offer n I gleefully accepted it, mindless of the abrupt shift in my career path. After all, in today’s age, u jus need to be an engineer to get into the software sector as a fresher. I consoled myself saying that the training’s in mysore and posting’ll defly be in chennai which wud enhance my chances of crackin CAT as greater concentration levels can be achieved at home.

The next 3 n a half months were, after my college days, the most enjoyable period of my life, n I threw all my career-related worries outta my brain n concentrated on living life to the fullest in mysore infy. Final posting – chennai n the homecoming was joyous to say the least.

The ugly whiskered animal reared its head once again, n it was a race against time n the unforgiving work schedule of a s/w engr for the third time (4^th, if u take the cancelled exam into account as well). This time I wanted to make it at any cost n appeared in all the exams. Finally, a call came my way – from IIT Mumbai, only to be snatched away from me at the last, most inopportune moment – the personal interview. To be honest, I really dint feel that bad at losing out on IIT mumbai, cos something kept telling me I’m made for better, if not greater things. I dunno why, but, from the outset, I did not like the city of dreams n more so, the great intellectual institute carved out of a forest still frequented by Panthers.

So, back to square one, with a job in hand that I dint love (if production support means anything to u, u’d empathise) n a completely confused mind not knowing where to head.

This has actually turned out to be a much bigger blog than I had intended to type, so lets have it in 2 parts, the road ahead will follow soon…

The Man, the Machine, and the Cow

I’d promised a sad story and here it is. A week after my image makeover, the most unthinkable, unexpected, unfortunate event happened in my life – a bike accident. I can see the frown on ur face – Hey, accidents happen to thousands of ppl everyday, and in a metro like Chennai, the number of cases is increasing exponentially, so y is it so unexpected? True, but as a human being, (and an Indian at that), I could not escape the “How can this happen to me??” mentality. We all know we are gonna die one day, but do we keep expecting it day in and day out? No, right? Similarly, I did not expect, even in the wildest of my dreams, that out of nowhere, a seemingly frightened and harmless cow would jog right into the path of my two-wheeler, when I was cruising at 60KPH on OMR (for the uninitiated, OMR = Old-Mahabalipuram-Road). It happens only in India !!

So, how did it all start. Given the depth of the subject, a little bit of digression is unavoidable, and in this case I’ll have to begin with my career aspirations to tell u the full story behind the collision. Stuck in a production support role in a software company for the past one year, I’ve been trying to break free without much success. The only logical way out of this was to become a student again (aah, the very word brings to life vivid memories of my undergrad life at BITS). To tell u the truth, I’ve been trying to become one for the past 3 yrs since I finished my BE mech in BITS Pilani. Yes, u got it right – the culprit’s name is CAT and I, like so many of us in our country, have been trying in vain to be a part of the mindless rat race of Relative grading in the Indian Institutes of Management. This year, I thot, to maximise my chances, I’d need to look into the GMAT option as well. As a starting point, I decided to visit the Princeton Review coaching centre (PRCC) for GMAT on the fateful day.

I work in shifts, and was scheduled to go in the second shift during the week (25^th – 30^th July 2005). My usual mode of transport is the office cab, but since I had to visit PRCC on my way to office, I decided to take my 3-month old mean machine to work after a long time. Picking up a like-minded friend on the way, we went to know more abt wat GMAT is (if I get into the details now, it’ll become a separate blog) and then cruised to office. It was jus like any of the previous 4 days at work, with ppl blinking their eyes and turning their heads to see if it’s really me or someone else. A colleague even remarked she had never thot someone could change their looks so dramatically.

It was arnd 11pm and time to leave, so I picked up my helmet (mom had forced me to wear it that day and I’d reluctantly agreed) and started off towards the side-entrance hopin to catch the connecting road to ECR (East Coast Road, a very well-lit, well-built road) but the security at the gate informed me that at night we are not allowed to use the side entrance. So, I rode over to the main gate and after passing the mandatory security checks, started on my 25km sojourn back home. I’d planned to catch the connecting road to ECR again, but with GMAT and a lot of doubts abt my future in mind, I promptly missed that road. So, I decided to continue on OMR (after all, the chennai corporation had finally finished building this road after ages of gravel and sand path commuting). After some 2-odd kms from my office, when I was nearing CTS, out of nowhere (courtesy, absence of streetlights for that particular stretch of the OMR), a frightened cow ran into the glare of my discover’s hi-beam. My immediate reaction was not to apply the brakes because the animal’s timing was so perfect I knew I’d hit it inspite of the much touted disc brake system. At 60kmph, my very first thot was “Which direction do I swerve?” the cow was heading towards the median, so I could not swerve right, and before I could think abt swerving left, there was a big bang !!

I remember the cow’s face (bewildered, to say the least) and the next memory is that of being carried over to the side of the road. Apparently, some ppl were around (thankfully, no other vechicle was in sight) and they laid me on the side of the road. One of them helped me remove my helmet, and immediately I felt a searing pain in my left leg n let out a cry. Thankfully, I had enuf sense and strength to take out my mobile and call up my colleague who had just left office in the shift cab. They were there within minutes and took me to Malar Hospital without further delays.

The impact – a fractured shinbone and a dislocated ankle on my left leg. The fracture wasn’t too serious, but the ankle required surgery, the details of which are best left abstracted. I found out that I’m not very good at handling physical pain and kept groaning n moaning throughout my 6-day tenure at the hospital. The docs told me that the next 4-6 weeks would have to be spent at home with my left leg wrapped in a cast. It was very depressing for the first coupla days, but I’m not the sort of guy to really brood over bad things and tend to atleast try n think abt better things.

A coupla weeks ago, my friend was stuck at home under less painful circumstances n had told me her desire to blog. The day I returned home, I saw a mail from another friend who’d invited me to view his blog. All this inspired me to start off one on my own, and I viewed this forceful rest as a blessing in disguise. I suddenly have all the time in the world to do all that I’d always wanted to do, but never had the time because of the blood sucking software life cycle.

I’m extremely grateful to all those ppl whose timely help controlled the extent of damage and also to all my well wishers across the globe who’ve thru mail, chat n phone, expressed their shock n wished me a speedy recovery.

Before this blog threatens to break any sort of emotional barriers, lemme put a full stop to it n hopefully this wud be y last sad blog.

My next post will take a look at my career (as – is scenario), where I am and how clear I am abt where I wanna be in future.