All The World's A Stage

Dusk

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sat, 05 Nov 2016 06:31:00 +0000

Dusk turns to darkness, as they frantically navigate narrow village lanes, driving past thatched roofs of a centuries old settlement, twinkling with lights and lanterns at each door.

Their drive so far has been bumpy and uneventful, punctuated only by the cries of children and adults alike, turning a full 180 degrees to stop and stare.

"Arre, gaadi varti cycle bagh!" ("Hey, look at the cycle on the car!")

...

With one eye on the sky, darkening by the minute, the west still lit with disappearing hues of blue and grey, and the other on the barely discernible road, they forge on, through the maze of criss - cross paths.

They stop and ask for directions, guided only by a name and some rudimentary instructions, hoping and praying for even a vague sign of recognition by one of the locals, but to no avail.

The villagers' faces remain blank, as they stare into the distance and ponder for a few moments, before pointing to the next intersection.

"Pudhe vicharun bagha.." ("Try asking ahead..")

...

The gathering gloom in the air and in their hearts reduces visibility to a few metres. Their hopes of discovering the home-stay start to fade with the last rays of the sun.

As they round the next corner and turn west, while contemplating the search for alternate accomodation, the lane opens out to a huge imposing silhouette.

Two large domes, stark black against dark grey sky preparing for slumber, rise out of the ground, a man made pool framed by tall gangly coconut fronds, guards around a perimeter fence.

They switch off the engine, in deference to the ancient stone structure before them, captivated by the silence and peace. Her voice, a whisper, yet so clear in the surrounding vacuum.

"Hi kuthli zaaga aahe?" ("What place is this?")

...

They alight and tip toe around quietly, soaking in the serenity. A path on one side leads to the beach, a sign, barely visible at this time of night, looms ahead.

From what seems like a afar, a voice calls out to them, welcoming, friendly. The giant of a temple awakens and casts a cursory glance at the new presence. He welcomes the new tourists to his humble abode.

"Pochlo aapan.." ("We've reached..")

...

29.10.16
Diveagar, Dist - Raigad, MH

...

Diveagar is a small fishing village in Raigad District of coastal Maharashtra, approximately 180 km or 5 hours drive from Mumbai. Surrounded by the fishing hamlets of Velas Agar and Bharadkhol, it is ideal for a quiet long weekend away from the city in the months of October to March.

Peaceful and sparsely populated, it is accessible from the Mumbai - Goa Highway, via Mangaon, and features several home-stays and small hotels for accommodation.

We made reservations via Airbnb and stayed at Chet's Groove, a beautiful home-stay with a hammock located in a coconut grove by the beach. The care-taker family is extremely nice and welcoming, and drums up the most delicious Maharashtrian style fish-food.

Tip: For an even more peaceful experience away from other tourists, head to the Kondvil and Aaravi beaches on the Diveagar - Srivardhan Road, completely uninhabited, with long clean stretches of sand as far as the eye can see.

...

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You may also like:
Peace and Tranquillity (Panchgani, Dist - Satara, Maharashtra)
Slow Down (Sifnos, Greece)

Tempest

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sat, 22 Oct 2016 05:23:00 +0000

Outside, a storm brews.

.

Gusts of wind blown across the Arabian Sea strike land,
Channeled by the geography of the Western Ghats,
Into nooks and crannies of the Sahyadri range,

Leaving no place for petty civilization to run or hide
Save for hutments of stone and lowly earth.

.

Like the Gods themselves blowing with all their might,
The gale brings forth rain and hail,
Freezing every living being to the bone.

.

Bhosegaon, off Panchgani, is one such nook.

Perennially engulfed in fog by the clouds funneled in,
With trees bent backward shorne of leaves, thrashing wildly about,

Buffeted by the very nature that created them,
Tugging at their roots, begging to be set free.

....

Inside, calm prevails.

.

Quietly curled up in woolens and warm blankets,
They stare at the grayness through the glass, eyes wide in wonder.

How two points in space, separated only by a few inches of wall,
Can have such different fates.

.

As branches snap and disappear into the distance,
And howling winds search for the elusive gap between door and frame, whistling their way in,

They huddle around a bowl of warm steaming Maggi,
Lost within themselves, enjoying the small pleasures of life.

Like a day spent lazing around, indoors,
Waiting, for a storm to pass...

....

Panchgani, Dist. - Satara, MH
19.09.16

...

Panchgani is a famous hill station in the Satara district of Maharashtra, approximately 285 km (or six hours drive) from Mumbai and 100 km (or two hours drive) from Pune.

Situated at an elevation of 4,200 ft and named after five villages in its vicinity, it is a popular weekend destination due to its cooler climate in the monsoon months of June to September, and winter months of November to February.

It is easily accessible by car or cab, and is also well serviced by popular luxury bus lines as well as state transport buses. Accommodation options include numerous hotels, resorts and home-stays.

Tip: It is advisable to make reservations a couple of weeks to a month in advance, if travelling on popular weekends of the monsoon or winter season. Some facilities may be sold out.

Tip: Panchgani is an ideal location for the weekend, given the weather, view and the number of hotels, if you plan to run the Satara Hill Half Marathon, held every year mid-September at Satara city, 45 km away. Most facilities at Satara and Kaas Valley will be sold out on this weekend. It takes an hour and fifteen minutes to drive down to the Start/Finish line for the marathon.

We were at Exotic Homestay - Panchgani, off the Panchgani - Mahabaleshwar road, situated above Dhom Lake. The delightful caretaker family drummed up delicious Maharashtrian meals and made our trip truly memorable.

Youth, Innocence and the Anachronism of Monday Mornings

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sun, 09 Oct 2016 10:52:00 +0000

Two Greek school kids at the corner of Kipselis Street and Zakynthou,
With their pot-bellied father, awaiting the school bus.

.

Excitement and energy writ large upon their faces,
As they jump around and play with each other, a fun start to a new week.

.

The boy pours out water from his bottle, and wets his hair to spike it,
Then pours out some more and sprays his sister.

.

They shout in joy, as their friends emerge from the neighbouring apartment block,
Two's company, four is a reunion, after a long weekend break.

...

In the distance, their father spots the bus,
And holds his arm out to flag it down.

.

The kids squeal, their happiness unbounded,
as they playfully push and shove each other out of the way,
in a bid to line up first and get the best seat.

.

They wave their parents farewell from the windows.
Youthful exuberance rubs off into the smiles on the parents' faces,
and on the face of a boy watching from two floors up, across the street.

...

Monday
16.05.16
Athens, GR

..

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Act III, Scene VII - Slowdown
Act III, Scene VI - Peace

Slow Down

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sat, 01 Oct 2016 04:44:00 +0000

Slow down.
Let the next bus go, there will always be another.

..

Sit in the sun for a while, let its warmth wash over you, driving the cold away,
Spreading slowly from torso to tip-toe, like a glass of red vintage wine.

..

Watch the yacht lazily make its way across the horizon, gently rolling across the waves,
Its wake, a serpentine white streak across magnificent blue.

..

Let the waves wash over your feet, visible in the pristine clear water,
Sand streaming away with the tide.

..

Let time make its way around the clock, like the sun crawling across the summer sky,
Bright at dawn, with dusk late into the night.

..

Let the pillars stand silent, sentinels of centuries past.
Each sunrise and sunset like a wave crashing over rocks on the sandy shore,
Polished to fine sheen, wave after wave, standing firm, unmoved.

..

Let the village life take over, in a secluded cove on an island in Greece,
Away from the alarms, deadlines and time-tables of the city.

..

Feel the cool Mediterranean breeze across the vast blue sea and plunging cliffs,
Framed by clouds floating by, playing with your imagination as animals dancing in the sky.

..

Hear the sounds all around you, the gulls above, sparrows chirping,
Mountain goats on a rocky outcrop.

..

Slow down, and let nature have its way...

.....

Kastro, Sifnos, GR
19.05.16

..

Sifnos is one of the lesser known but extremely beautiful Cycladic islands in Greece. Quiet, laid back and peaceful, lined with white washed, blue roofed houses, it is frequented by tourists seeking a break from architectural wonders and party-hotspots.

Sifnos is reachable only by boat, and serviced daily in the summer by all popular ferry lines, from the port of Athens (about 2.5 hours away) For moving around on the island, you may rent a scooter or a car from the port of Kamares, or use the bus.

Accomodation options include wonderful homestays owned and managed by local residents. We stayed at Aegean Eye Rooms, Kastro, in a warm cozy room on a cliff, with a view of waves washing ashore right beneath our balcony, hosted by the very gracious and helpful Aristidis. All reservations on our trip via Airbnb.

Don't miss the numerous treks which dot the island of Sifnos, and connect the various beaches and villages, cutting across hills and along narrow cliffside paths, offering views of blue sea and sky which leave you awestruck. All treks are plotted on maps at all villages, and are well marked with signposts and arrows at regular intervals.

Tip: The larger faster boat of Aegean Speed Lines (Athens to Sifnos) turned out to be our best ferry experience of the trip, with minimal gyrations. Seajets services the island with a smaller boat (which we used for our onward journey, Sifnos to Ios, and was a little uncomfortable) Hellenic Seaways and Zante Ferries are the other ferry lines servicing Sifnos with larger boats.

Tip: Most beaches and villages are frequented by the bus only twice a day, from the central villages of Apollonia, so ensure you check out the bus time-table on alighting the ferry at Kamares. Sunday timings differ from the rest of the week.

Tip: If you happen to miss the bus, you can always walk. All villages are an hour or two away from Apollonia on foot, and you may stumble across or meet someone amazing on the way (we found a Pottery studio, an organic farm and a sweet smelling home-made jam store)

..

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You may also like:
- The Last Ball
- Peace and Tranquillity

Peace and Tranquillity

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sat, 24 Sep 2016 17:05:00 +0000

You wake up with a start, in darkness.

The room, the air, your head abuzz with the sound of a million crickets, their loud persistent chirping, through the mosquito-net-lined door.

You glance around in all directions, trying to discern your surroundings, lost for a moment, with the incessant crickets and their drum-roll playing havoc with your mind.

...

All of a sudden, the noise subsides to complete and utter silence.

A coordinated orchestra ending its symphony to the conductor's closed fist, the noisy and boisterous Wankhede Stadium suddenly silent at the fall of Sachin's wicket.

In the vacuum that presses in on your ears, the absence of sound whatsoever, you remember how you got here.

...

You remember the beautiful monsoon drive along the rolling green Sahyadri hills; the breathtaking views off the cliffs of the Western Ghats, as you climbed higher and higher into the clouds.

You remember the photos and selfies, perched awkwardly on a rocky outcrop on a dangerous curve along the ghat, praying the car doesn't roll away; while vehicles barely visible to the naked eye crawl up the narrow winding road you just traversed, snaking across the face of the mountain.

You remember the hot steaming bowl of rice in a wood panelled rustic restaurant, facing a lake nestled between the mountaintops.

...

As you move groggily towards the door, trying to regain your bearings, and stare at the moonlit sky outside; as you hear your own breath in the silence that surrounds you, it all comes back like a sudden rush of colour into a black and white painting.

You remember pulling off the highway, onto a bumpy tree-lined country lane, forest stretching out on both sides as far as the eye can see; passing beautiful quaint bungalows, weekend homes of the rich and famous, while the fog rolls in and envelops you, hiding the lake from view.

You remember heaving your bags into a home-stay, your abode for the long weekend, anxious moments locating the caretaker, and finally falling flat on the inviting bed, crawling under the covers and drifting off to the gentle pitter-patter of drizzling rain on the sloped wooden roof.

...

You stare blankly at your watch, wondering how you slept through an entire evening, amazed at the peace and tranquillity of your surroundings, the smell of rain soaked earth and vegetation, the sound of leaves rustling quietly in the breeze.

The crickets pull you out of your reverie. Just as suddenly as it had fallen silent, the orchestra resumes.

...

Panchgani, Dist - Satara, MH

16.09.2016

...

Panchgani is a famous hill station in the Satara district of Maharashtra, approximately 285 km (or six hours drive) from Mumbai and 100 km (or two hours drive) from Pune.

Situated at an elevation of 4,200 ft and named after five villages in its vicinity, it is a popular weekend destination due to its cooler climate in the monsoon months of June to September, and winter months of November to February.

It is easily accessible by car or cab, and is also well serviced by popular luxury bus lines as well as state transport buses. Accommodation options include numerous hotels, resorts and home-stays.

Tip: It is advisable to make reservations a couple of weeks to a month in advance, if travelling on popular weekends of the monsoon or winter season. Some facilities may be sold out.

Tip: Panchgani is an ideal location for the weekend, given the weather, view and the number of hotels, if you plan to run the Satara Hill Half Marathon, held every year mid-September at Satara city, 45 km away. Most facilities at Satara and Kaas Valley will be sold out on this weekend. It takes an hour and fifteen minutes to drive down to the Start/Finish line for the marathon.

We were at Exotic Homestay - Panchgani, off the Panchgani - Mahabaleshwar road, situated above Dhom Lake. The delightful caretaker family drummed up delicious Maharashtrian meals and made our trip truly memorable.

GOQii

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Tue, 08 Dec 2015 02:28:00 +0000

Recently, i came across a US based fitness tracking app called GOQii, which is rapidly expanding in China and India. It combines a wearable technology (own wristband) with an accompanying app and a personal instructor who structures a fitness regime for each individual subscriber and follows up on it through chats, telephone calls and v-con.

What is great though, is that the service and app is also compatible with competing wearable fitness technology devices like Fitbit, Jawbone and Misfit; so it effectively takes the hardware out of the equation, and encourages adoption by a greater number of people.

More importantly, GOQii is taking a shot at the most common problem faced by fitness apps worldwide, that after some amount of use by new enthusiasts, they are abandoned, that most people lose interest eventually. They are trying to get around this by doing two things:

Charging money (3 month subscription: Rs 3,999; 6 month: Rs 6,999; 12 month: Rs 11,999) so you might feel compelled to utilize the package which you have paid for without dropping out i.e. in Indian terms: "paisa vasool karna" (similar to a gym membership)
Providing a coach who will push, motivate and guide you (at a much cheaper rate than a personal trainer at the gym or outside)

Some gaps and challenges are still abound:

Need: For a fitness oriented person, who is driven and dedicated enough, the push, motivation and guidance of a personal trainer is immaterial, hence one may just use a free app like Strava, Runkeeper or Nike+ to track activities
Community: A major motivation factor for me, within Strava, is the community. The ability to follow rides and runs of friends and relatives, to like and comment, and interact with others within the app (similar to a Facebook feed, but for fitness) The GOQii community is currently an unknown factor
Portability: Having used Strava for the last three years, my history of activities and total kms run and cycled is a major moat which prevents me from switching to another app. If GOQii were to allow its import to their app, and sync activity history and usage between various apps, they would also take the moat out of the equation; while at the same time providing their personal coaches with a database of fitness history, much like providing a medical history to a new doctor
Marketplace and Network Effects: Apart from offering their own fitness trainers (who provide assurance of service quality) GOQii has also pivoted into a marketplace for trainers, where trainers need to be certified by GOQii before offering their services to subscribers. Alternately, it could gradually move to any user uploading their training routine, for others to follow, with the possibility of being rated by user feedback or number of followers. Charges could be pre-defined or auctioned, much like an an Uber for fitness, with GOQii purely being a medium for connecting fitness oriented folks, and retaining a part of the fees as their margin, and looking at alternate sources of income like advertising for fitness related apparel and accessories.

In conclusion, our lifestyle nowadays involves long periods of physical inactivity during the day, positioned at a laptop or a desktop, coupled with unhealthy eating habits, and elevated levels of stress on an everyday basis. I am a big proponent of allocating some time everyday for physical activity, either before or after work, be it something as simple as a half an hour walk in the nearby park.

It is really nice to see the technology and internet oriented support, apps and communities mushrooming around fitness, and catering to the growing mass of newbies and athletes alike, on their path towards a long term healthy routine and lifestyle.

References and additional information:

GOQii recently secured some funding, and here is a complete review of the product and service itself by the good folks at NDTV Gadgets
More on network effects here and here, by Fred Wilson of Union Square Ventures. I am a fan of his investment philosophy, and if such opportunities were to emerge for a retail investor in India, i would go long on these scrips
I have used Strava for tracking my runs and rides over the last 3 years, and my Strava profile can be found here. It has been with me through 4 half marathons over this period, and through the ongoing preparation for a full marathon early next year

Delirium

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sat, 19 Sep 2015 15:22:00 +0000

He rides like the wind.

Through the semi-darkness of dense brown forests, filled with timber.
Through wisps of mist amid trunks as wide as a house.
Arching above him, blocking off all sunlight.

He is a blur, screaming past lush green meadows
Over gentle undulating hills, with sheep grazing in the distance.
Under blue skies with puffs of white clouds lazily rolling by.

He squints into the distance, in the bright sunlight.
His next waypoint, his all important marker.

Excitement!

...

He rides like the wind.

Towards one goal.
Occupying every part of his heart, every minute of his day, every thought in his mind.

Enraptured, for the last few moons.
Heightened by the thousand leagues between them.

He can sense her presence. Drawing him to her.
Closer, with each passing moment.

That fleeting glance, the child-like innocence.
The sound of her laughter, at His Majesty's court, two winters ago.
How he has longed for it to echo in his ears again.

Anticipation.

...

He rides like the wind.

Pushing, driving, willing his steed farther.
A sleek black shadow, beautiful to behold.
Two bodies as one, flying through the night.

Rest is unbeknownst to them, halting only for food and water.

Thundering hooves flashing past, leaving barely a whisper in their wake.
Riding harder, faster, as he nears his destination.

Hunched over the mane, his mind is alive
His eyes focussed; on the road ahead and where it leads.

Delirium.

Dreams (Part 2)

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Wed, 15 Jul 2015 20:22:00 +0000

This is Part 2, a continuation of a two part post, titled 'Dreams'
You can find Part 1 here.

----

He wipes the rain from his eyes, and looks again across the road,
Trying to ascertain if it is her, through the maddening squall.
The wind buffets her hair and skirt. Still she stands.. unmoved, unreal.

A sudden breeze cuts through him, chilling him to the bone.
That one moment of indecision, with the umbrella closed and the door ajar.
Jumping in quickly, he slams the door, and curses
To have led himself to believe, for even a moment. That it was her.

All sound is cut off. The silence presses in on his ears.
From the cacophony outside, to a world of vacuum.
The only sound is of his breath.
Water seeps off his hair and clothes, onto the seat.

He sits there forlorn, his hands on the wheel,
Staring blankly at the odd shapes ahead through the rain swept windscreen.
The memories come rushing back. Happy thoughts. Sad thoughts.

Is it really such a remote possibility, her being here. Isn't she a thousand leagues away.
Is he a fool, to harbor such feelings, and continue this train of thought.
After trying so hard, since that fateful day. To erase. To forget.

"What if it is, though..?", a small voice asks.
"Would you take that chance..? Would you drive away..?"
The voice gathers strength. The voice is now a roar.
All around him, in this small closed space.

Almost afraid to look, he sneaks a glance out the window across the road.
Afraid that isn't her. Afraid that it is.
But she's gone. Disappeared into thin air.
He looks again at the spot, wiping his breath off the window, squinting through the glass.

"Isn't this the life changing moment you've been waiting for all along?"
The voice makes a very good point.

He grabs his keys and umbrella, falling over himself in his rush to exit the car.
Back outside, in the thundering tumult of rain, wind and chaos,
He looks frantically across the road, in both directions.
Almost willing the Gods to part the white and grey sheet around him,
Just enough to see that faint silhouette.

He doesn't bother about checking oncoming traffic as he runs to the other side.
Such things are too trivial now.

He reaches the spot she was at. Breathing heavily, almost panting.
The excitement, the happiness, the prospect of seeing her again,
Evaporates slowly. Reality sinks in.
What is this cruel game the Gods play.

She remains a dream.
Like the elusive wisps of smoke from an extinguished candle.
Like the joyful bubbles in the wind you tried to catch as a child. But never did.
Like the grains of loose sand in a tightly closed fist.

She remains a dream. Nothing more.

Dreams (Part 1)

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sun, 12 Jul 2015 19:23:00 +0000

He exits the house, glancing up at the heavens.
The sky.. cruel, grey and unforgiving.
A typical monsoon day, cold and pouring wet.
Its been like this since that fateful day, when the rain first came.
A day he wishes he could forget.

Huddled underneath an umbrella, he protects his bag,
Quickly covering the short distance to the car on the street.
Careful to avoid the puddles, and not let too much water into his shoes.
He thinks about the puddle in his life he din't see coming.

The rain thunders into his umbrella, a roar blanketing all other sounds around him.
Like a waterfall in the forest, close by, but hidden behind the foliage.
Millions of gallons crashing down. Loud, but not visible.
Underneath the umbrella, he is a small lonely island. Dry, as of now.

As he walks, his mind is deep in thought.
The day ahead. The week to come.
His to-do list straining against its reigns.
All these events, such a regular part of corporate life, seem minuscule now.

The road is deserted.
Strange, for what should be a busy weekday morning.
Maybe some offices are already closed, due to the rain.

He has no such excuse.
He reaches his car, quickly opens the door and shoves his bag inside.
Crossing over to the driver's side, he shuts his umbrella and throws it in.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spots someone across the road.

A familiar figure, almost a silhouette dressed all in black, standing perfectly still underneath her umbrella.
Looking right at him.

He pauses, the door ajar, one foot inside.
His pulse quickens, his heart is racing. It can't be her...!

He wipes the rain from his eyes, and looks again across the road,
Trying to ascertain if it is, through the maddening squall.
The wind buffets her hair and skirt. Still she stands.. unmoved, unreal.

----

This is Part 1, of a two part post titled 'Dreams'
You can continue reading Part 2 here.

Pain

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Mon, 29 Jun 2015 19:20:00 +0000

He sits alone, and stares into nothingness.

Perched on the very tip of a rocky cliff.
A cliff which extends away into the horizon on both sides, its jagged edges cutting into his heart.
A cliff which drops away vertically into the crashing waves of the ocean far below.
So far below, their sound does not reach him.

The sky is drab and grey, reflecting his thoughts.
The water is dark, as far as the eye can see.
No seagulls caw. No wind blows. The air is still.
Life itself, has come to a grinding halt.
There is silence all around. The sound of sadness.

Tears well up in his eyes.
The weather Gods bend the knee in reverence.
Dark clouds roll in.

He sits alone, and stares into nothingness.

Joy has been sucked out of his life, a huge gaping hole for grief to fill.
The loss so sudden, he is left speechless.
A major part of his life, his mind, his heart. Taken away.

There is no glimmer of hope, no tinder left to spark.
Even the slightest of glowing embers has been drowned out by the finality of it all.
He can never be happy again.

The dam gives way. Tears roll down his cheek.
Salty streaks, past the corners of his mouth, splashing onto the ground.
The clouds burst forth in response.

He glances up into the rain, looking for answers.
Why this path, of all paths.
Why this sudden heart wrenching turn of events.

There is no thunder or lightning. This is not anger.
This is grief. This is pain.

He sits alone, and stares into nothingness.

The Last Ball

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Thu, 27 Nov 2014 18:01:00 +0000

...

Three required off the last ball.

It has all come down to this.

1130 pm on a foggy winter night. The pitch, a center of brightness lit by 4 towers of light.

The green grass wet with dew. The crowd silent. The air tingling with excitement.

Three required off the last ball.

The man in the middle, diminutive in stature, slight in build.

He, and he alone; bears the weight of this equation.

He can tie it with two. But it won’t get them victory.

A tie will be decided by least wickets fallen; and that run out on the second last ball has cost them dearly.

Three required off the last ball.

He evaluates his options.

The field is irregular; long boundaries straight, and short boundaries square.

The non-striker is just in, he’s fresh and up for a sprint.

There’s just enough space among the gaps for a quick two. But just two. Not three.

.

They’re lucky to be here, still, chasing 52 in 5 overs.

They were in command and winning this; until the quiet third over brought a quick fall of wickets.

The fourth over was a bonus, yielding two no balls, a wide and 18 runs.

He himself scored most of those. He’s brought them back into the game.

Three required off the last ball.

He sees the bowler begin his run up in the distance, left arm fast over the wicket.

Each step resonates around the ground, heavy with tension.

Time slows down.

The batsman is still; and in his crease. His stance that of a coiled snake, ready to strike.

The bowler is in his stride approaching the pitch.

The fielders close in, inside the circle, cutting off the gaps which remained.

Three required off the last ball.
It has all come down to this.

Months of practice and preparation, of 6 a.m. alarms and harsh winter mornings in the nets.
Aggression and build-up, in the days leading up to the title defense.
Fierce rivalries among the legacy teams and hard fought battles in the earlier rounds.

.

Suddenly, his mind is blank, clear. A clean white sheet of paper.

He knows what he has to do.

Things move in slow motion.

The bowler is at the stumps. The non-striker is off and running!

The batsman walks across the line and swings! Swings hard with all his strength!

The non-striker is halfway down the pitch in the hope of running three; screaming for the batsman to make a move.

But he hasn’t moved a muscle since he played that shot.

He knows he doesn’t need to run.

His bat hangs in the air; frozen in time. His eyes follow the ball.

He sees it sail away, over the roof, into the night! It’s SIX!

...

Metro Warriors.

Are. You. Ready.

One goal. One Aim. LPL 7.

...

In memory of Phillip Hughes (30th Nov 1988 - 27th Nov 2014) who succumbed to his injuries on being hit in the head by a bouncer in an Australian domestic cricket match. A fighter, a believer, a perennial reserve opener in the Australian test team, an underdog who fought till the very end. You will continue to inspire us, as long as there is a glimmer of hope, no matter what the odds. Rest in peace.

For a fitting tribute to Phil by sports commentator Daniel Brettig, click here.

The Love Of Assets

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sat, 12 Apr 2014 07:58:00 +0000

Over the first two and a half years of my career, as part of the Asset Finance Group, I have had the unique opportunity to embark on field visits where assets we have financed are deployed and in operation.

Having been to huge shipyards and innocuous on-shore oilfields in Gujarat, on board Anchor Handling Tug Supply Vessels in anchorage at Mumbai and Paradip Ports, taken a tour of the tarmac and the ground handling equipment at Mumbai's Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport, visited stone quarries and crusher sites in the outskirts of Pune, studied Ladder Bucket and Backhoe Dredgers at close quarters at Belapur, and having observed the assembly of a 300 ton Crawler Crane from 26 different parts at a yard outside Panvel; just the sight of a simple excavator digging away on a roadside project is enough to make me stop the car and stare in wonder for a couple of minutes, overawed by the complexity of man's creation and capabilities.

A 30-ton Work-over Rig during inter-locution, at a GSPC Oilfield near Vadodara, Gujarat

A 40 Ton Bollard Pull Offshore Supply Vessel at JNPT Anchorage, Mumbai

At the time of joining my organization in the Construction Equipment Finance vertical (CEF), a lot of the terms mentioned above were a bouncer for me too. Types of machines, names of different manufacturers, make and model numbers, names of large dealers and contractors were supposed to be on the back of my hand, and it took me a while to find my feet. As a credit analyst, it was paramount to know the machines we were financing, how they worked, opportunities for their deployment, and the health of related industries.

While researching all these assets the hard way, i felt the distinct absence of a consolidated database of information related to Construction Equipment for a layman joining the industry. Thus, this part of the blog, Act V, is my attempt to try to hand down the little bit of knowledge i have gained over the last two and a half years, about standard and non standard assets, and maybe, just maybe, generate the same amount of interest, curiosity, love and respect for these assets that my ex-boss has and is renowned for, which he has passed down to me. I hope this section of my blog will eventually serve as a ready-reckoner location for tutorial for any and all types of construction equipment and as an induction to the industry.

We are going to start off next week with the classification of construction equipment into different categories and segments depending on their application and usage. Stay tuned for more, some exciting times and interesting machines lie ahead. Cheers!

Alma Mater - Part II

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Mon, 07 Apr 2014 15:04:00 +0000

Foreword: This is a post i had written a while back (August 2013), and is a follow up to Act V, Scene I - Alma Mater - Part I. In pursuit of continuity, you can read Part I before scrolling downward.

As a student, i always hated the late - night Alumni talks, when corporate honchos who had graduated from college a long time ago, dropped in on campus only to be pampered by the Placement Committee, demanded an interaction with the students, intruded on your post-dinner-relaxation time / hanging-out-with-friends time / late-night-badminton time / fifa-counter-strike time, to impart tit bits of knowledge which din't really affect or better your chances of getting placed in a company and profile of your choice with a higher than average package (every MBA aspirants goal)

And so, after a long day of clambering up an down ladders on an Anchor handling Tug at Paradip port, with a broken finger and plaster to boot, covered in coal dust from head to toe, when most people would have staggered into a hot shower and straight to bed, i found myself in the familiar environs of CR-6 (now called CR16) at 10 p.m., a perfect embodiment of all that i hated when i was a student.

What an amazing experience it was. Just to be able to present in that class again, with rows upon rows of students rising before you like a giant Roman amphitheater, and actually paying attention (as opposed to chatting among themselves in a fairly noisy classroom during college presentations); with the usual late comers knocking on the door every two minutes; with those same old curtains on your right (hopefully washed at least once a year); with the podium right next to you and the presentation on the screen behind; as usual not making any sense whatsoever, and quite like college times seeing it for the very first time right then. Complete nostalgia.

PS: Thoroughly enjoyed the experience, and hope to be able to visit the college whenever possible. Also felt great to meet some friends old and new. Finally met @Tom_Babu in person. This guy is an absolute twitter celebrity for me. His posts and links about finance related news and happenings from around the world is absolutely amazing and anyone who is remotely associated with the wonderful world of finance should follow his twitter handle. College photo courtesy Bibhav Behera Photography

Year End Closing

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sun, 30 Mar 2014 14:07:00 +0000

Its been quite a while since my last post on 31st August 2013, and since then there have been only a couple of updates in my life, nothing major.

Work related first - I shifted from the Asset Finance Group to the Corporate Finance Group in October, within the same organization, and also managed to secure a promotion to go with it. Thus, all asset related posts hence forth are going to be pretty much nostalgia about what I did for the first two and a half years of my short three year career.

A change of vertical also meant a new team to fit into, new colleagues to bond with, and a change of the most important person in one's life (for unmarried people that is) - a new boss. Fortunately for you, i am not going to continue rambling on about work here, and by God's grace, the title of this post isn't related to work related targets at all.

So, on to the fitness front then. Since August 2013, I ran two half marathons - The Bangalore Midnight Marathon in December 2013 (in 2 hrs 7 mins 19 secs); and The Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon in January 2014 (in 2 hrs 0 mins 35 secs) (will definitely be a post on this soon) Here's an image from the Mumbai Marathon, courtesy the amazing photogs at Marathon-photos.com

Continuing the sporting achievements, we (the Metro Warriors) successfully defended our L&T Premier League trophy in February, becoming the only team in the LPL's six year history to qualify for the final four times and win thrice (a post is due on this one too) On the way to the trophy we also swept the Player of the Tournament, Batsman of the Tournament, Bowler of the Tournament and Most 6's trophies. Here's a photo of the winning team

Thus, all targets for the current sporting season were surpassed with flying colors and 'Exceeds Expectations'. Now the hard part, setting targets for next year after such a stellar performance.

The sporting calender kicks off in September 2014 with Athlos 6.0, the annual sports meet of XIMB. Team XIMB Alumni made their debut in Athlos 4.0, finishing with a solitary gold and one silver medal. We fielded only a token presence Athlos 5.0 and this September, we return to campus to put right past wrongs.

On the running front, I could try a full marathon, the absolute definition of fitness in today's corporate world. After some contemplation, I've decided to give up on the superhuman effort and work on improving my half marathon timings with a 1 hr 45 min target. Although the midnight marathon was an interesting experience in itself, i'll probably try a new route this year. The Goa Beach Run next February looks like an attractive option.

On the cycling front, a week-long road trip to Goa remains the dream in winter, subject to leave from office. Intermediate goals on weekends include 100km in a day and then 130km (personal best currently is 62km - Thane and back)

Last but not the least (and probably the toughest) - I'm going to set myself a personal weight gain target of hitting 65 kgs by September, and 70 kgs next March. Going by my history of maintaining 55 kgs for the last 10 years, it does seem like a tall order. After all, what are targets if not impossible and un-achievable anyways. Cheers!

Pushing The Limits

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sat, 31 Aug 2013 13:51:00 +0000

After a three month monsoon break and a dislocated finger, and on barely three hours of sleep, i din't think doing a 40 km ride was physically possible, but we did it. Okay, so we've done longer rides before. We've been all the way to Borivali, Vashi (both 50k) and Thane (62k), and even climbed Malabar Hill thrice on a single ride. Okay, we had a pretty long break at our destination waiting for the rain to stop, before riding back. But, much to my amazement, even after deciding the return journey was beyond us on just the first day back in the saddle, after trying to get back by train (and failing miserably due to the crowd) and after promising to go easy on the pace, we still rode back in record time.

For much of the return journey, i was in the the zone. Head down, pedals kicking over as if driven by a mechanized motor, kilometers flying by. The zone, that amazing period of time when its mind over matter, pain is taken out of the equation, and all that is visible is the destination. When you don't realize how far you've come until you sit back and take a look behind, and when you take a moment to think about it, you can't quite come up with how you achieved it.

Which got me thinking.. are we really pushing the limits in our everyday life? Have we really explored how far we can be stretched? If we think about any of our past achievements, can we say beforehand that we had it in us, and the result was guaranteed? Isn't each milestone a new discovery of having been stretched beyond the limits we thought we were capable of, and setting a new benchmark for ourselves?

Loads of questions. Loads of unknowns.

PS. For those unfamiliar with the geography of this beautiful metropolis of Mumbai, a nice map can be found here.

I map my rides using an amazing app called Strava, a running and cycling GPS tracking app that automatically maps your rides, and provides analytics for speed, elevation and comparison against other online athletes.

Also, a photo of the beautiful Gokuldham abode of Lord Krsna from today morning.

Hope you all had a safe and pleasant Janmashtami celebration couple of days back. Until next time, Jai Shri Krsna!

Finger Little, Plaster Big

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Tue, 27 Aug 2013 16:01:00 +0000

A bit of a delay between posts owing to my travel schedule, and the fact that i've been pretty much left handed since last Monday, which really affected typing speed and slowed down work. This is what my hand looked like for the better part of last week.

I've realized typing one handed is much faster on a mobile device than the laptop, so i wrote this one, alternating between my phone (Galaxy Ace) and my moms Galaxy Tab 2 and switched back to the laptop for links and photos. The blogger app is quite frankly useless in this regard. At best, its a notepad for drafting future posts while on the move, and needs major improvement.

Also, i've learnt to do a few more things left handed since the day i broke my finger. Quite a learning experience this, being one-handed. Bathing, shaving, driving (yes, one handed!) climbing up and down ladders on anchor handling vessels, editing screenshots etc All the usual everyday stuff. I even got an opportunity to drop down to my college, Xavier Institute of Management, Bhubaneshwar, on the day of my Paradip trip, and i grabbed it with both hands, plaster and all

The good news is that the plaster came off yesterday, and the minute i got to flex and bend my fingers and wrist, i was reminded of this scene from Terminator 2: Judgement Day, the part where he peels off his external skin and reveals his metal skeletal structure underneath. The way he flexes his fingers at '0 min 37 sec' is *exactly* what i did with my hand the moment i was free of plaster. (one can nowadays find absolutely *anything* on the internet i reckon)

Alma Mater - Part I

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sat, 24 Aug 2013 20:15:00 +0000

Wow, what a packed couple of days its been!

Thursday afternoon saw us at Paradip Port, on an Anchor Handling Vessel we recently financed, to be deployed for SPM Maintenance and Operation off the Indian coast. If some of those terms went completely bouncer, lets switch back to regular English. I will translate the terms and explain what such a vessel does in complete detail in a later post. Meanwhile this is what it looks like. Its absolutely beautiful to behold, and much bigger than what the photo suggests.

This was my first visit to Paradip Port, or to any port for that matter, and it was an amazing experience. Paradip is one of the 12 major ports in India, situated on the east coast in the state of Odisha, at the confluence of the river Mahanadi and the Bay of Bengal, about 100 km from Bhubhaneshwar. It mainly handles bulk cargo of iron ore, coal and crude, and has 14 berths with a max draft of 14m, capable of accommodating bulk carriers of up to 100,000 DWT. This is what it looks like from an aerial view.

Just to put it in perspective, here's a screen grab from Google Maps. Its amazing what all you can do on the computer nowadays using the internet and some simple software.

The port was a beehive of activity, with 10 bulk carriers, either offloading coal, or loading iron ore. All were geared vessels aided by on-shore material handling cranes. Amazingly, the website maintains up to date information on exactly which vessels were berthed where, and the exact amount of cargo transferred on each day, available the very next day. Impressive information management systems for a govt. enterprise. We were incidentally right next to MV Jag Rani and MV Monica P

The port is equipped with broad gauge electrified railway line of East Coast Railway (ECoR) right up to the harbor, which allows the cargo to be loaded / unloaded directly onto railway wagons, or alternatively, taken via tippers to high stacking piles covering several square kilometers and surrounded by screens to prevent coal dust and fines. The slowdown in iron ore export was evident, with ore-filled trucks lining two entire lanes of the Chandikhole - Paradip Highway NH 5-A up to a distance of 30 km from port.

So, this post is threatening to turn into quite a long read. You must be wondering by now why this post is titled Alma Mater. Well the trip wasn't just about a port visit, a vessel inspection, and a day spent away from my desk. I also grabbed the opportunity to drop by my alma mater Xavier Institute of Management, Bhubhaneshwar, for a post dinner QnA with the 1st and 2nd year students. More about that in the very next post. Cheers!

The Proximal Phalanx

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Mon, 19 Aug 2013 12:11:00 +0000

Yesterday i fractured the 'Proximal Phalanx' of the little finger on my right hand while playing football.

Before you ask- Yes, there *are* such bones in our body with ultra cool names like 'Proximal Phalanx'. Yes, you *can* fracture your finger while playing football (a game primarily involving use of feet and head).. by falling on it. And yes, the arrow in my diagram is facing the wrong direction, because its there to show the direction my finger was bent in, not to point out the fracture itself.

There's something exceedingly beautiful about sliding into a tackle for the ball, clearing the danger, but getting up to find your finger bent 60 degrees at the joint in a direction its not supposed to. Okay, that last part isn't beautiful at all, but (in hindsight quite surprising and very confidence-inspiring) in the moments that followed, i calmly grabbed the awkwardly-positioned finger with my other hand and bent it back into a straight line.

If you're interested, and have exceedingly good eyesight, the third bone from the fingertip is chipped just a little at the very top on the outside, caused by scraping the bone above it whilst the latter was being forced into the direction indicated by the arrow (this was explained to me by the good doctors at the hospital, apparently my eyesight isn't 'exceedingly good') Enough gruesome details for one day. Surprisingly, there was very little pain after i put it back in place. No blood, only swelling around the joint and mild discoloration. Definitely not enough to justify the humongous plaster stretching right up to my wrist.

Anyways, since last night, apart from being the butt of several 'where-did-you-put-your-finger' jokes, i have been struggling to master daily activities with my left hand. Eating, drinking, brushing, gargling, typing (one handed) are just some of the things you should practice doing with your other hand, to be prepared for eventualities such as this one. Or, you could just avoid getting into slide tackles. But, what is life without risk. Cheers!

A Cavil on Chronology

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sat, 17 Aug 2013 05:44:00 +0000

The last couple of posts were titled 'Act II, Scene I - What Lies in Store' and 'Act III, Scene I - The Reading Habit'

We studied the five Acts of 'Julius Caesar' over five trimesters in the 9th and 10th grade. With its twists and turns; plots and sub plots; and the eventual oratory climax delivered by Antony, 'Julius Caesar' had a substantial influence on shaping my mind, and the result is apparent in the title of each post.

In pretty much the same way that Acts changed as the drama unfolded, heralding a change of characters, costumes, locations, props and moods; < kborlikar.blogspot.com > will also switch Acts to herald a change of theme.

Each Act will typically follow a central theme over several Scenes. Act I is an introduction to the blog and its structure. Act II started with an in depth review of an app, while Act III followed with a glimpse into what i am reading. More Acts may follow about things which are an integral part of my life and as i branch out into a different theme, a new Act may be born.

The only difference being, while the literature followed each Act till its demise and switched to the next one in chronological order, this blog may keep alternating between different Acts, depending on the theme of each post. I only hope i can keep you as glued to my stories, as we all were to His. Cheers! Or rather..

"Antony: Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot,

Take thou what course thou wilt."

< Exit Antony >

{ The complete text of Julius Caesar can be found here, and audio-file here }

The Reading Habit

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Tue, 13 Aug 2013 15:08:00 +0000

Fred Wilson wrote an interesting piece a few days back, about the slowing adoption of e-books, v/s paperbacks.

“Many of the early adopters of ebooks and tablets .. have made their move. The diehards aren't going to make that move it seems, or they are going to take their time.”

One would then expect the obvious move by publishing houses to price the paperback product at a premium to the e-version to drive e-sales, but it has not materialized. Instead, the cost and ease of purchasing a paperback has steadily fallen (via e-retailers) while e-books prices have been lower than paperback, but not much lower, as seen from the table below (for a popular fiction title)

Title		Flipkart	Amazon
Inferno (Dan Brown)	Paperback	Rs 375 ($ 6.25)	Rs 390 ($ 6.50)
	e-Book	Rs 345 ($ 5.75)	Rs 337 ($ 5.60)

Investopedia explains very concisely why the above phenomenon occurs:

Large publishers have overheads like office space, utilities, salaries (editors and graphic designers) and marketing spends, which aren’t necessarily eliminated in the case of e-books. The savings are only in the form of physically printing the book and the physical distribution process (margins to bookstores and inventory cost). Thus, the pricing gap between e-books and paperbacks is small.

So, all of the above has only served to take the brick-and-mortar bookstores and libraries out of business.

Three simple questions come to mind here.

One. Do you think the real cost of producing the paperback is being priced in? Not in money terms, but the actual environmental impact, the number of trees axed, the amount of green cover lost to the world, to read a simple story over a couple of days (which then yellows on a bookshelf somewhere)

Two. Will we ever have the same emotional tug of physically progressing through a page-turner, from a tablet or a laptop? Horizontal on the living room sofa for hours on end, skipping meals and a good night’s sleep till the last page is done.

Three. Is piracy a factor in the above equation? It is obviously much easier to obtain a pirated copy of an e-book, while on the other hand, the reduced price of a paperback has effectively countered rampant piracy in the physical version (from my experience in Mumbai)

So, while we contemplate the fallout, i am heading back into the depths of ‘A Dance with Dragons’, the fifth volume of the amazing series ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’ by George R.R. Martin. After meandering through the last one-and-a-half volumes it begun moving, and regained that un-put-down-able feeling which carried me through the first three. Will harp on this series a bit more in following posts. Meanwhile, Cheers! Feel free to leave your views in the comments section!

{ Fred Wilson is a VC and Principal at Union Square Ventures, an early stage VC firm based in NYC. Their biggest known investments so far have been Twitter (2007), Tumblr (2007), Zynga (2008) and Foursquare (2009). I have been a keen follower of his blog since 2009, for his views and insights on the different aspects of start-ups and technology, as well as his simple step-by-step explanations of finance related concepts in the section 'MBA Mondays'. He has been a major inspiration to start my own blog }

'What' Lies in Store

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sat, 10 Aug 2013 05:48:00 +0000

Its been more than a year since Whatsapp entered my life, and is such an inherent part of it now, i wonder how people passed their time in the pre-Whatsapp era.

For the uninitiated,

Whatsapp Messenger is a cross-platform mobile messaging app which allows you to exchange messages using the same internet data plan that you use for email and web browsing, available for iPhone, BlackBerry, Android, Windows Phone and Nokia.

Created by ex-Yahoo! employees, Brian Acton and Yan Koum, Whatsapp is a nifty little app which allows one - to - one as well as group chats, with a maximum group size of 50. It also has (most importantly) nil advertising on its interface. Here's why, explained by the creators themselves. Its free for a year and costing $0.99 p.a. thereafter (on all platforms, since 17th July). (Incidentally, the creators were so kind as to extend my free usage by another year. Thanks Brian and Yan!)

So, what Whatsapp has done basically is eliminated sms usage, much to the chagrin of telecom companies and other instant messaging apps like iMessage, Blackberry Messenger, Gtalk and Facebook Chat. Staying in touch with friends abroad is a breeze, creating groups for different friend circles encompassing people in locations all over India and abroad is now possible, and various activities can be coordinated now, that would require several phone calls or mass messages before.

By the way, it is also a bit distracting. And by a bit, i mean a lot. The ease of forwards and broadcast messages has made jokes and memes repetitive and an utter nuisance throughout the day. I have actually taken to switching off internet services while at work nowadays and checking in every hour or two (which saves a surprising amount of battery charge) to reduce the pings and the overwhelming desire to reply to each one (there is also a mute option within the app for silencing specific groups)

Over the last couple of months, some amazing numbers have been revealed by the company. It recently surpassed 250 million active users worldwide (greater than twitter) and now handles 27 billion messages per day. It is quite a feat for an app or software to spread all over the world and gain mass acceptance so rapidly, especially one that has no formal advertising or promotion expense (just word of mouth) What is it that has made Whatsapp so attractive and an instant hit? What gives it the edge over competitors? (WeChat from China has tried very hard, with voice messages and Lionel Messi in tow, and Whatsapp has responded by incorporating voice messages in its latest version)

So, what lies in store for this behemoth going forward? Thus far they seem intent on not monetizing user data and information, and offering unlimited usage. What other sources of revenue are possible from this user base? Will they turn to social networking and gaming? Or will they offer corporate solutions by defining a whole suite of <chat-email-calender-task manager> for mobile and desktop devices, all integrated into one? Only time will tell. Until then, keep sending those forwards in. Cheers.

The Introduction

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Tue, 06 Aug 2013 15:38:00 +0000

Having browsed through numerous online introductions and summaries of eminent and not-so-eminent personalities (the latter being friends and acquaintances :P) i have come to the conclusion that modesty is lost on the human race. So in the interests of following the herd, i shall do the same with mine own.

< Statutory warning > Many of the sentences in this post will start with an 'i'

I am currently pretending to be a credit analyst at a leading financial institution in India, which basically allows me to sit at my desk the whole day typing away at my laptop, whilst staring at spreadsheets and financials full of numbers.

On a more serious note though, the asset finance division where i work is concentrated on building a portfolio of niche equipment with specialized applications like heavy lift cranes, work-over rigs, aircraft pullers, trans-shippers and anchor handling tugs. Having grown up in awe of (and wanting to someday operate) all types of huge machines, probably explains why i love my job

The profile also gives me an opportunity to travel to sites where the assets we have financed are deployed. Somewhere along the short two year journey, I realized that any other finance professional (read i-Banker, hefty pay packet, BMW/Audi in garage, typing away at his presentation for 15 to 20 hours a day) would never get to experience the exhilaration i look forward to in my job. So, just to make up for the lack of those materialistic things quoted above, I will expand in great detail about the amazing trips and how these man made marvels work, in later posts.

Meanwhile, proceeding in reverse chronological order, the two years i spent studying for my MBA, before taking up a job in finance, have been the most productive years of my life. Luckily, i stumbled into an awesome set of friends who made life on campus an unforgettable experience. It is possible that they may, too, have a few posts dedicated to them somewhere down this road.

Time off from work is generally spent in a variety of sports. Luckily i am quite good at very few sports, so there is always space to improve, be it badminton, football or cricket. Of late, cycling has entered my life with some regularity on Saturday mornings and also brought with it the beneficial side effects of cutting out Friday night binges. Of course, like almost every other person in this world, I can also be found on Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn. Until next time. Cheers.

The Beginning

noreply@blogger.com (Kushal) — Sat, 03 Aug 2013 10:52:00 +0000

So i have contemplated writing a blog for a long time.

At first it was about the platform to adopt. Inspiration and flow of thoughts tend to hit me at any and all times of the day, whilst having a bath, in the middle of a football game, or on my bed trying to fall asleep. So the decision to start with 140 characters was easily taken, with the device always at hand, at first via sms, and then through a mobile app.

Writing came easy too, ever since school time essays, right through press releases and promotions in grad school as part of the Media and PR Cell, and later, on Facebook, as buildup for an awesome sporting event (more on that in later posts) But the central theme of a blog eluded me.

It still does.

After a little bit of research, a lot of procrastination and having overcome pure laziness, < kborlikar.blogspot.in > is finally here. For starters, this space is about all that is an integral part of my life and makes it more meaningful, expressed in a bit more than 140 characters. It will be used to brazenly plug things that i use everyday, describe what i am up to and harp on whatever else occupies my mind and inspires me to wake up and face the daily routine.

Please feel completely uninhibited in the comments section and throw as much criticism my way as possible, your point of view and insights will only serve to improve the discussion board and my thought process. Cheers.