<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sat, 21 Sep 2024 22:46:59 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>life</category><category>boredom</category><category>men</category><category>fun</category><category>kerala</category><category>sales</category><category>children</category><category>growing up</category><category>kids</category><category>middle class</category><title>Bored Brahmin Brays...</title><description>Life is all haha hehee for me. I write when I am either really bored or really kicked about something.&#xa;&#xa;Here, I&#39;m as irregular as you are..</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-5200902035829382616</guid><pubDate>Fri, 11 Apr 2014 18:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-04-11T11:51:07.194-07:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Of Paper and Pen...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I miss paper. The pen. The discipline. The thought which had to be well-defined before it was put down. The silence needed when one had to pen-down a few lines for someone.&lt;br /&gt;
It isn&#39;t like that with email. There are too many distractions. The google ads. The urge to check other emails or another page in the middle of composition. The pressure to craft it perfectly with those &amp;nbsp;quotes and nuggets of wisdom freely available over the internet. And worst is that its all so easily deletable and redo-able. Very unlike the scratchings of the hand written letter which would make the writer&#39;s muddiness apparent to the reader.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m from the old school. I wrote to my cousins and friends till I was in college. I dearly keep and read the letters and cards received over the last 15 years. I believe in making birthday cards than buying ready-made ones - a culture that I&#39;ve proudly passed on to my siblings. We had telephones, but I preferred paper. The envelopes. The stamps. And the sweet ritual. &amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
The eccentricity remains till date.&lt;br /&gt;
I abhor digital prints on walls. I love wooden furniture and find laminated furniture repelling. While I&#39;m not able to exercise my choice over everything, I can&#39;t make terms with these. A lot of people question and ridicule my belief. But I think there is a difference.&lt;br /&gt;
A wooden table is way better than a laminated one because it will weather with me. Years later, when I sit for my cup of tea, the contours and the scrapes will have stories to tell. A mark left by the molten candle which fell off a birthday cake or scratch during house-shifting.&lt;br /&gt;
A table with synthetic laminates will stay new for too long and will probably mock at me when I grow old.&lt;br /&gt;
Sadly, I haven&#39;t recieved many letters after 2007. &amp;nbsp;I have emails. Long and short. Emotional and argumentative. From family, friends and bizarre acquaintances which I prize but cannot grow old with.&lt;br /&gt;
Because there is a feeling about an old handwritten letter, a feeling which an email can never impart.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2014/04/of-paper-and-pen.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-8657806498098250466</guid><pubDate>Sat, 24 Aug 2013 17:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-08-24T18:03:09.535-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">children</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">fun</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">growing up</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">kids</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">middle class</category><title>I worry which half.</title><description>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I have always preferred one on one conversations to large gatherings. So I pick up conversations with people whenever I get a chance. Parties, airports, trial room waiting areas in shopping malls.
Also, as a part of my job, I get the opportunity of going into people’s homes and spending time with them. Thanks to the dissimilarity this country has to offer, I have got chances to peek into homes of different strata, religion, culture, language. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;While I do take notes on what is relevant for my category, I am human, and can’t help but compare my life with those I meet. Recently, I have had a chance to meet a lot of children because of the part of business I handle. I’d be lying if I say that some of my experiences have not left me wondering if I am out of date and too similar to my mother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I grew up in a middle class joint family in Jaipur where I was the eldest daughter and my father the only working member. I have a sister and a brother&amp;amp; we lived in a beautiful bungalow facing a park. There were 3 bedrooms in the house but the kids&amp;nbsp;didn&#39;t&amp;nbsp;have one to themselves for a very long time because it was a joint family with frequent guests. Or maybe the concept of having a room for kids never existed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;My maternal grandma’s house was close by so whenever I needed some study time before my exams I was dispatched there. The need for some space never occurred to me! I found the concept of being alone futile and boring. There were two places in the house which were mine, the corner in which I put my school bag and a cupboard which had my dolls and a piggy bank.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Trebuchet MS&#39;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;It was only when my father got a job in Indonesia and I went to an international school, that I realized the concept of space. I was 12 then. While the house had enough space to host a gathering, our mother insisted the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt; ‘girls’ &lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Trebuchet MS&#39;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;share the room as too much privacy could spoil them. I wonder where she got all these ideas when she herself was brought up in a joint family of 4 uncles and 3 aunts and their kids and spouses and second and third cousins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;When I meet young kids today, I get slightly perturbed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;An 8 year old boy recently told me that Saturdays evenings are meant for parents but Sunday afternoons are for friends so that he can &lt;em&gt;unwind&lt;/em&gt; before he goes to school the next day. 
Apparently, a 12 year old girl speaks to her mom more on whatsapp than in real conversations. Reason? She has 5 tuitions (Maths, Eco, Hindi, Engligh, Science) and 3 hobby classes (Swimming, Badminton, Dance) in a week and meets her mother only for a few hours in the day. &lt;em&gt;‘I can choose to neglect some parts of the conversation if it is on a message. The phone gives me freedom to choose my thought and answer as and when I feel like.’&lt;/em&gt; She likes contemporary dance because it gives her inner peace. (wtf!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I stand speechless. I didn&#39;t understand words like &lt;i&gt;unwind&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;neglect&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;em&gt;inner peace&lt;/em&gt; till very late.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Another horrifying epidemic is the need to look &lt;em&gt;awesome &lt;/em&gt;and&lt;em&gt; up&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;at all times. The number of accessories that kids have today are probably equal to what I wore on my wedding. While schools have strict uniforms, kids find a way to prove their fashion consciousness through neon earrings, watches, kohl eyes, wrist bands, pendants, temporary tattoos and even hair color. An 11 year old girl once told me that show enrolled for swimming class so that she could force her mother to take her to the salon and get a body wax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;All these conversations happen in homes where cupboards are stuffed and chaotic like overfed roosters in a coop. You’d pull out a handkerchief and a&amp;nbsp;huge&amp;nbsp;pile&amp;nbsp;of clothes would fall on you. The bedsheet has infinite creases where they are sitting surefooted, happily BBMing. The computer table which they use everyday has coffee mug stains. Stains so old that there is a thick dust lining. &amp;nbsp;A number of times, I attend interactions where I don’t get a proper chance to look at their faces. Because they are looking into their phones while answering my queries.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Trebuchet MS&#39;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Sad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Trebuchet MS&#39;, sans-serif; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Trebuchet MS&#39;, sans-serif; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Dear parents, where are you ? You just can’t keep the kids busy in numerous hobby classes and feel satisfied? Where will they learn cleanliness, respect, honesty and other virtues?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I can’t help but recall my mother’s jingoism for cleanliness. Each time our family had to go for an outing she’d make us clean the house before we’d leave, set the cupboards, wipe the kitchen slab. I could never understand why but funnily, I follow this principle till date.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;She said (and still says) that the bathroom floor needs to be dry at all times (At all times!!). She made us clean the computer with a dry toothbrush and the combs with boiling water. When on a bed, she’d constantly keep removing the creases from the bed-cover. She taught us the 4 steps of putting the bed and how to use Brasso polish on metal statues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Trebuchet MS&#39;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;The sequence of setting a dinner plate (salad, chutney, subzi, dahi, left to right) and books (height-wise starting left. If the width is more than average put it flat).  When a guest comes, offer atleast 4 snacks with tea because 2 is too less and 3 is an odd number.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Trebuchet MS&#39;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Unfortunately today, I don’t follow half the things that I learnt from her.

I’m a working mom and probably don’t spend the required time with my child. My son is 2 years old and I’m already shortlisting hobby classes for him to keep him busy and ensure that he has something to talk about when he grows up. I’m pretty sure that he will start using words like privacy much sooner that my generation did. While he watches me put the bed and clean the book shelf, he also watches me faking a response to him while I am surfing internet on my phone. He also watches me order pizza when the cook doesn’t turn up.
Like me he will also imbibe only half the things he sees.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Trebuchet MS&#39;, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I’m worried which half.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2013/08/i-worry-which-half.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>8</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-8676232256484927470</guid><pubDate>Sat, 09 Jul 2011 19:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-07-09T12:18:26.830-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">boredom</category><title>Just checking</title><description>If it&#39;s still existing</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2011/07/just-checking.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-8995095704024701545</guid><pubDate>Sun, 02 Nov 2008 05:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-05T07:05:24.262-08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">boredom</category><title>Single for too long?</title><description>&lt;p&gt;A lot of B-school grads today are increasing falling prey to LOOS (Lack of opportunity symptom).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I see is the problem: - &lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263939121204320354&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0inW0LfjYa_I-DyiMjhEAJuiN656hvASyjaDHVsue8Nozauz90KgJXX_IyosuCmXoqGGm-oKg7cwJt27Gk27o1bNk0K_43PLs_GTFKDtX97jjOPW1HsOKUTDLkZtnZEYSHQTkdg/s320/singles-flirt-up-your-life.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;· They were attached/ slightly attached/ had one-sided love in college. Hence, the mind-status on love life continues to stay in the exit-college condition.&lt;br /&gt;· A decent pay package and a big brand name behind them conditions them to think they are the most eligible singles from college and re-ignition of old flames will happen soon (statistics say 96% B-schoolers try and woo their old connections once they reach a self satisfying stature, financially)&lt;br /&gt;· All they fail to realize is how most of their batch mates would be feeling the same way&lt;br /&gt;· They think its no time for flings because they are 26-27-28 and its time for shaadi.&lt;br /&gt;· Companies they work for have put them in Jabalpur, Kanpur, Coimbatore, Cochin where they can find no one who matches their ‘mental frequency’ &lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263939450597416770&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbrjEWk4rIgkyhDl5Dv6iqBpkJpwozSPHyEuIc8RmVerCdvHd7byqTW8jMYJLQgvQG0aligPtCCkGZrR9Jq7BxPPks08n8t7usIF1hOVljNiGuHwZ-oW1UJAXX6n4rqr9hhj7rnw/s320/flirt5.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;· They are so bored of staying alone but having nothing to spend on that they surrender to the idea of arranged marriage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst part is that that they don’t realize that they are desperate. It happens when you’ve been single for too long. &lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263936120125517682&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 284px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaWm7-u14jm3Hb6ZfMjp6EBg5EPHAjz8qgX96-8ObTJE80c8m4iWD7YTA3WxowlJSYvLQ7AXnaxU6IuGPSdKBwhh7FH1ZIbNEk2HVsnY2sRGt8d17w0s_6N-1s3s7TJUimGb1pkg/s320/Flirt2.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I see is the symptom: -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;· You get drunk and bask in glory of those days when your (X) girl friend got jealous when you spoke to a brunette who came to visit the campus for a few days as a part of exchange&lt;br /&gt;· You still frequent the orkut profiles of your EXs&lt;br /&gt;· When you see them green on gtalk, you think for a split second, ‘should I , should I not start the conversation’&lt;br /&gt;· When in a bar/ coffee shop without company, you order a drink and start calling your friends&lt;br /&gt;· When you are cribbing too much about work&lt;br /&gt;· When you realize you haven’t refused a party invitation in last 6 months (you definitely wanna get noticed, get hooked)&lt;br /&gt;· Before a train journey starts, you frantically hope that may someone interesting occupies the seat beside you&lt;br /&gt;· In a gathering you suddenly come up with the announcement, “I wanna go to Leh alone. I need to spend some time with myself”&lt;br /&gt;· Suddenly after reaching your hometown, you feel like a lost puppy coz no one else is single anymore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I suggest: -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.shaadi.com/&quot;&gt;http://www.shaadi.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sit for MTV splitsvilla auditions&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263940701037222674&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh39RDpvDgyyHxIJL7zATd4FOPWu4X-_PgULB0G7lcLVX2TTj_1r0UVQe9M76ruD46U3ngnt2Dv_Kwi8R2IqACUOjPDzQKbKhw5zYgdcreOuflyFVBunPS8z85BRhaktZKnEm-sgQ/s320/splitsvilla.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2008/11/do-you-wanna-partner.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0inW0LfjYa_I-DyiMjhEAJuiN656hvASyjaDHVsue8Nozauz90KgJXX_IyosuCmXoqGGm-oKg7cwJt27Gk27o1bNk0K_43PLs_GTFKDtX97jjOPW1HsOKUTDLkZtnZEYSHQTkdg/s72-c/singles-flirt-up-your-life.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-3996590704007167922</guid><pubDate>Thu, 23 Oct 2008 20:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-10-24T01:40:21.731-07:00</atom:updated><title>A talk lay buried</title><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder why sometimes&lt;br /&gt;I feel there is something amiss&lt;br /&gt;When there is everything I ever wanted&lt;br /&gt;Why is there vacuum in the abyss&lt;br /&gt;Why do hopes from cherished ones&lt;br /&gt;Translate to discontent later?&lt;br /&gt;Or is the inability of the other&lt;br /&gt;To comprehend greater&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A talk will lay buried&lt;br /&gt;Words will remain unspoken&lt;br /&gt;Odd manifestations and&lt;br /&gt;Dismal smiles betoken&lt;br /&gt;As thoughts sometimes are&lt;br /&gt;Like undying blemishes&lt;br /&gt;When emotions divulge&lt;br /&gt;Only the world relishes&lt;br /&gt;Wounded is the one who hears&lt;br /&gt;Wounded is the one who says&lt;br /&gt;Silence comes by wisdom&lt;br /&gt;Have heard the same always&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So should true feelings die a slow death?&lt;br /&gt;And sentiments lodge in the unknown?&lt;br /&gt;Isn’t it then unfair to call it love when&lt;br /&gt;It is sorrow in the heart sown&lt;br /&gt;But kept hidden somewhere&lt;br /&gt;Expecting this too shall pass&lt;br /&gt;Hoping things will change&lt;br /&gt;Collecting inside a grey amass&lt;br /&gt;Which one day might explode&lt;br /&gt;With exasperation and tears&lt;br /&gt;In willows doubt and question&lt;br /&gt;Is what one fears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why is the other unwilling&lt;br /&gt;To make way and understand&lt;br /&gt;The silent spasms each day&lt;br /&gt;And lend a warm hand&lt;br /&gt;Then why let the talk lay buried&lt;br /&gt;And why should words remain unspoken&lt;br /&gt;Emotions make a lot of noise&lt;br /&gt;Why lie when time is to be woken&lt;br /&gt;As compromises are like&lt;br /&gt;A dissonance cove&lt;br /&gt;The more you judge&lt;br /&gt;Is the less you love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Wick, I ain&#39;t being judgemental:P it doesn&#39;t matter..i still love you.&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2008/10/talk-lay-buried.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-8877128238437400529</guid><pubDate>Sat, 08 Mar 2008 04:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-07T20:36:38.850-08:00</atom:updated><title>Retold into existence</title><description>I ponder a lot over things that lack in life. Lack of public transport in Gurgaon to lack of time to go to the parlour for a wax. Lack of personal life, lack of impetus, lack of lacs in my bank account, lack of……..&lt;br /&gt;Then I spend a lot of time chewing over these lacks and converting them to major gaps in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“ Lack of public transport in Gurgaon……How unlike Mumbai..…Oh Mumbai…How much I miss it…Gurgaon is just not the place for me…I must shift to mumbai…this job wont let me…I should find another one…This isn’t a good enough reason…I don’t know what I want from life…I’m an indecisive trudge tangled unnecessarily …..blahh..”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Lack of time to go to the parlour....everything can be managed, I’m the one procrastinating since long.....think I’ve lost the desire to look beautiful…..how sad is such a thought at the age of 23…..am I going through some kind of depression??…..Should I go to the Himalayas?....omg!!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After such gigantic troubles in life its easy for anyone to breakdown when life pushes one more bit. So life came to an end when my water purifier broke down.&lt;br /&gt;Alas!! How could a girl at such a tender age, living all by herself take the burden of getting a water purifier fixed??&lt;br /&gt;And then again, everyone from my parents to my bosses expect me to act perfectly normally. I should be equally cheerful when I call mumma each morning and I should respect all my deadlines irrespective of the hurdles I cross each day while I secure basic necessities (like clean drinking water)of life for myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To top it all there are incompetent unreasonable plods working for you who can’t manage their time, don’t know how to work efficiently, who nod even before listening to you and basically do a good job of fucking the chore well. Methinks I should steal their school graduation certificates and drop them somewhere in the pacific ocean.&lt;br /&gt;Ghhhhh….Life is more unfair than ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While taunting him at his work and spurning at what little was left of his ego,  I ask one of my new recruits if he’s feeling lucky to be in the company he is in. He nodded meekly. I asked if there was an issue.&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, I was a Cricket player. I was in the team when Harayana won the Ranji Cup. Then I had an accident and couldn’t play anymore so had to change my field. But you please give me sometime. I will do a good job and not disappoint you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt a huge ball roll drop from my heart to my stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shouted at my bai, Paudha, a few days back for being minutes late as I was getting later for work.&lt;br /&gt;“Didi, my younger daughter has not eaten anything since 3 days and pukes whatever I force in. This morning I sent her to Kolkata with my mother as I don’t have time to take care of her. If nothing else, she will be in Bengal if she lives. I went to the station to drop them and I definitely won’t be late tomorrow.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt dry inside. And small. While I was busy in self-pity over my water purifier she nonchalantly fought for continuation. I wish I could turn into a fly and hide under the carpet she was cleaning. And I wish Paudha would unknowingly squash the fly with her foot.</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2008/03/retold-into-existence.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-1405096191767356560</guid><pubDate>Tue, 12 Feb 2008 10:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-12T07:08:38.830-08:00</atom:updated><title>Hi Mom, will you for once listen to me?</title><description>At the core, I am a non-listener. I listen till the topic of discussion isn’t leading to infringement of my basic fundamental rights. That is why, listening to mom is a slight hitch. Firstly, she still thinks I am incapable of making right decisions, venture out in the open all alone, open the door without being advised by her to do so, stand straight without her instructions like I were still a 2 year old (I can see Chotu and Manu nodding in agreement in Jaipur&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;..&quot;arre yeh toh hamare saath bhee hota hai..&quot;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;). Secondly, we would always topple upon something where she would succeed in coercing me into changing the way things have been (read – encroach my personal space).&lt;br /&gt;Her propositions are detailed and demanding and need a paper and pen to start with. Plus if you follow them, you’ll feel 84 by the time you are 32.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One can’t possibly eat everything she suggests as breakfast in one light year (Shaktiman can go to the moon and come back and I’ll still be having breakfast) ….milk, fruits, muesli, yogurt….. (if you are staying alone, like I am, she’ll fill you in with timesaving techniques like: while you cutting fruits, you can boil the oats)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t think I’ll have time to sleep or shit or earn if I follow the lifestyle she suggests &quot;&lt;em&gt;…take a while in making your bed, 20 mins kapalbhaati, 20 mins pranayam, 20 mins walk early morning, evenings should start with 20 mins of….. &quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don’t think I’ll have any social life left if I listen to her all the time as: One, I’d have no time on my hands after breakfast! Two, she insists on calling ALL my friends home, ALL the time because &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;‘…kya fayda hai bahaar jaane ka..tum log 150 rupaye ki coffee peete ho….’&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. And three, without trying to show how curious she is, she’ll try to know all about your personal life… &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘Chotu toh keh rahi thi tu pichle weekend ghar pe nahi thi, maine bola office mein kaam hoga&lt;/em&gt;..’ &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At my age, if you can cook, earn, keep a clean house, wash clothes and also have a personal life, you gotta be a super girl. To my understanding, I am one. But mumma dear refuses to recognize my talents and recommends something or the other which to her understanding will take me one step closer to her picture of a perfect 23 year old indian marriageable spinster. I end up listening to her because otherwise, people at home have to face repercussions..... Papa would be wincing at the sight of green healthy – &lt;em&gt;gheeless&lt;/em&gt; food, Manu would squirm at the sudden cut-down on hours to be at play and Chotu would cringe at the questioning looks given to her while she’s on her cellphone. All three would blame me as if i were the mastermind behind the plot leading to their miseries. Very submissively I would agree and apologize and do something I hate doing – Obey!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mummy darling, please find below the proof (today’s breakfast): &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166044170891913858&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMLqwkjg9PVCYOvTjbffNDxpGalsv8KqcOGXOhDefVaYTGQUw3kV2PnuoXRu_kbFxaThNcjawvCKQ7j10jWnxOoNb4eF8tfBAKacIF_RaoUQ0bBQJg_E5Y06O07fqORr1wdipQfw/s320/P4130059.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope you and the world around you is slightly happy now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I guess, shewill agree, I’m the world’s best daughter and trust me with other decisions I am planning to make in the near future :)&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2008/02/from-core-of-self-acclaimed-worlds.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMLqwkjg9PVCYOvTjbffNDxpGalsv8KqcOGXOhDefVaYTGQUw3kV2PnuoXRu_kbFxaThNcjawvCKQ7j10jWnxOoNb4eF8tfBAKacIF_RaoUQ0bBQJg_E5Y06O07fqORr1wdipQfw/s72-c/P4130059.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-498099941740803069</guid><pubDate>Tue, 25 Dec 2007 16:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-12-25T08:36:41.625-08:00</atom:updated><title>Why am I Jack&#39;s wasted life?</title><description>&lt;em&gt;Everywhere we went,&lt;br /&gt;we were sizing things up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt sorry for guys packed into gyms, trying to look like how Calvin Klein or Tommy Hilfiger said they should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that what a man looks like?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Tyler Durden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been spending too much time in profiling the way the others should look at me. Perception matters. But if you are a real person, you’d start feeling possessed after a while. Like what I feel right now.&lt;br /&gt;I have realized that the fabric of human decision making is based on the indispensability of the beneficiary at that particular moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What mom makes for dinner is not what tastes good but if my dad would appreciate the same. We would be slaves to our bosses less for the business sense and more for the end term evaluation. I would like to be what someone too dear to me would want to see me as.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Then again, its all for myself in the end. Fair enough. I shouldn’t be cribbing.&lt;br /&gt;Or probably, I’m just Jack’s intermittent exasperation.</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/12/why-am-i-jacks-wasted-life.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-1238523649167842090</guid><pubDate>Thu, 06 Dec 2007 10:38:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-12-06T02:39:55.344-08:00</atom:updated><title>I am Jack&#39;s wasted life</title><description>:((</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-am-jacks-wasted-life.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-682355466763592778</guid><pubDate>Mon, 19 Nov 2007 14:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-11-19T06:22:51.465-08:00</atom:updated><title>The nineteenth day of november</title><description>Few of us would know this. In India, this day has witnessed the birth of some of the most successful and powerful, dynamic and brave, intellectual and demanding women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Rani Laxmi Bai&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;19th November 1828&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lakshmibai, The Rani of Jhansi , the queen of the Maratha-ruled princely state of Jhansi in North India, was one of the leading figures of the Indian rebellion of 1857, and a symbol of resistance to British rule in India. Because of her unprecedented bravery, courage and wisdom and her progressive views on women&#39;s empowerment in 19th century India, and due to her sacrifices, she became an icon of Indian nationalist movement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ2BCqZ5eLjVwQU3vEpIgpRmJQFz34pbH27LawatS85h_nRaioa5s4acciRUFewKiY8-XfyLtW-N9Hml2wtUkyozes72tZO_2-YVhlz0jbIhzwGYfaU6Pw6hP7__typL5fTnoqjg/s1600-h/ranijhansi150.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ2BCqZ5eLjVwQU3vEpIgpRmJQFz34pbH27LawatS85h_nRaioa5s4acciRUFewKiY8-XfyLtW-N9Hml2wtUkyozes72tZO_2-YVhlz0jbIhzwGYfaU6Pw6hP7__typL5fTnoqjg/s320/ranijhansi150.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134554015290830786&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;* Bow * and a thousand times over..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Indira Gandhi&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;19th November 1917&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indira Priyadarshini Gandhi was the Prime Minister of India for three consecutive terms from 1966 to 1977 and for a fourth term from 1980 until her assassination in 1984. She was India&#39;s first and to date only female prime minister. Chosen to become PM  by Congress Party insiders after Shastri&#39;s death, Gandhi soon showed an ability to win elections and outmaneuver opponents. She was one of the strongest leaders India has had till date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitEqH8xSQZfL6O7bJ2jqqQSd8VYLD2aw2p5GbPfNwmvIGkBqSFXhgVUjsycTs_HYHuMfiWampn0TRbmbfVLH5jYgr2F1KZZniFbdDK3OswwccA5AhDzi7ugYplmf8HBLZnkwEccw/s1600-h/IndiraGandhi.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitEqH8xSQZfL6O7bJ2jqqQSd8VYLD2aw2p5GbPfNwmvIGkBqSFXhgVUjsycTs_HYHuMfiWampn0TRbmbfVLH5jYgr2F1KZZniFbdDK3OswwccA5AhDzi7ugYplmf8HBLZnkwEccw/s320/IndiraGandhi.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134554376068083666&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;* Bow* U ruled woman!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Zeenat Aman&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;19th November 1951&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zeenat Aman was born to a Muslim father and a Hindu mother. She was the second runner up in the Miss India Contest and went on to win the Miss Asia Pacific in 1970. She is considered the very first sex symbol of the indian film industry.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot; onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4nXnicL1y8S7xo-OIBZyouRLmcNZdgfp6wH3vCD29ISarU6v9ihfewQUNWADFKaVLLaEp4hpH_DYCqKidOrAq-YnvxdIX-KEiG5NP7DOhr7NuX0j7TWvyQMmuoLNydlTsZVDDyA/s1600-h/zeenataman.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4nXnicL1y8S7xo-OIBZyouRLmcNZdgfp6wH3vCD29ISarU6v9ihfewQUNWADFKaVLLaEp4hpH_DYCqKidOrAq-YnvxdIX-KEiG5NP7DOhr7NuX0j7TWvyQMmuoLNydlTsZVDDyA/s320/zeenataman.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134554788384944098&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;*......WWow..*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Sushmita Sen&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;19th November 1975&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sushmita Sen won the title of Miss India in 1994 at the age of 18 who went on to become the first indiam Miss Universe. In 2000, she adopted a girl, Renee, as a single mother a bold anomaly in a conservative country like ours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPKlvIQoM_KDOfwY9AcjqLz4Z19mAKG0478Lb33spaAaxz-t_-Ik5ohk70wDB9ou0z5GgOITxRXDC_jt19xZNmo_CfhzpmAznFsfwDS_uIbe9uglMTOFFoh6Nb4jMMmW4xk8Whig/s1600-h/sushmitaand+rene.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPKlvIQoM_KDOfwY9AcjqLz4Z19mAKG0478Lb33spaAaxz-t_-Ik5ohk70wDB9ou0z5GgOITxRXDC_jt19xZNmo_CfhzpmAznFsfwDS_uIbe9uglMTOFFoh6Nb4jMMmW4xk8Whig/s320/sushmitaand+rene.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134555222176641010&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Hats off to you gutsy lady!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;By the way, this day is also recognized as &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;International Men’s Day &lt;/span&gt;in India for some reason.</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/11/nineteenth-day-of-november.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ2BCqZ5eLjVwQU3vEpIgpRmJQFz34pbH27LawatS85h_nRaioa5s4acciRUFewKiY8-XfyLtW-N9Hml2wtUkyozes72tZO_2-YVhlz0jbIhzwGYfaU6Pw6hP7__typL5fTnoqjg/s72-c/ranijhansi150.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-7311760313886302882</guid><pubDate>Sun, 04 Nov 2007 08:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-11-04T03:22:23.250-08:00</atom:updated><title>Finally Strategically Aligned to the Core Work Process</title><description>&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Exam time in my B-school was fun. I spent time playing &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;B-hinD-D-tacky G &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;(read &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;behn di taki ji&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;). A game behind B-school gyaan’s Dirty Doctrines and Tacky Globe (also called faff). Played by perennially jaded ones like me who feel zombied at jargon loaded syllabi, esp. one night before their &lt;st1:place st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;OB&lt;/st1:place&gt; exam ( I don’t remember what O in OB stands for – Organization or Organizational. According to me this is one function which ensures that employees behave properly, are punctual, wear clean clothes to office, carry a kerchief and have their nails neatly trimmed). &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Coming back to &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;B-hinD-D-tacky G.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; An out of the ordinary game for brainless souls which helps them stay awake and add some sad humor to all the gyaan puked at them in the first semester of their B-school life. All one needs to do is pick three words and put them in a sentence. Keep shuffling them till the time the meaning really changes. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Example: &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Lesson1, Page 1, Line 1 - The &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Strategic Direction&lt;/b&gt; should be &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Aligned&lt;/b&gt; to the core work process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Pick 3 words: Strategy. Direction. Alignment.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Now look at the majjicc!!!&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;The &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Aligned Direction&lt;/b&gt; should be &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Strategic&lt;/b&gt; to the core work process&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;The &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Direction Strategy&lt;/b&gt; should be &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Aligned&lt;/b&gt; to the core work process&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;The &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Strategic Alignment&lt;/b&gt; should be &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Directed&lt;/b&gt; to the core work process&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;No change in the sense (or nonsense) it makes. 3 points!!! Yeyeyeye!!!Applause!!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Burp. B-school over. Sales starts. &lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;My first interaction with my boss. We were planning to discuss the ‘ profitability of the channel partners ’ after lunch. I prepared myself for another unexciting damp theoretical sitting. I was all set with my likely&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;/i&gt;contributions (Strategy. Direction. Alignment)&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;He started by saying, &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;“Distributor kutte ka mafiq hona chahiye.Tum haddi feko. Who pooch hilaye”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;:D&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Now I use &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;behn di taki&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; in its real sense (as and when required). &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/11/finally-strategically-aligned-to-core.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-5491793143167516263</guid><pubDate>Sun, 14 Oct 2007 18:09:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-14T11:58:06.515-07:00</atom:updated><title>I promise!! I will!!</title><description>&lt;div&gt;Dear Bored Brahmin,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How lousy could I be? It was your first budday on 6Th of September and I am wishing you now :(( !!! Anyway, Happy Belated Birthday Babyy!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjO4poyaDMdy6wPjKMaJo8a2GT68I5ziu_TQWZfmbO_MLsPFPCYxDwoqwrWON9apbGCXpO7mDslpDQS9HsS_2DVz-uxeUUGmU5PvBCVH-KI0Wnhm097VaCx8J_pieOoYGv1A4-0g/s1600-h/cake.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121266531604370306&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjO4poyaDMdy6wPjKMaJo8a2GT68I5ziu_TQWZfmbO_MLsPFPCYxDwoqwrWON9apbGCXpO7mDslpDQS9HsS_2DVz-uxeUUGmU5PvBCVH-KI0Wnhm097VaCx8J_pieOoYGv1A4-0g/s320/cake.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinhkFT0s7DCwQm74GHmEDZJ47s2TjJkllKum8ewu0wyOF3r51e5g89H61A9syKoewGZtli9w2w8fMEo6p8i4RsVHDBpELpG4Kgp_b-h3zn99Ic6bxnpCwYvAAY7MNDZzeDk2gSug/s1600-h/cake.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really sorry baby. I have been really busy. Will never ever ignore you again. I promise i&#39;ll get you a shiny new template as a birthday gift. Pakka Promise!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will do anything to make my baby happy. For you I will even try and be more tech-savvy and learn how to edit html codes myself (and not depend on mallu men for help)I will get you anything you want...clocks (London, Iran, Uzbekistan, Jakarta) and google ads (&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.simplymarry.com/&quot;&gt;http://www.simplymarry.com/&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.bhratmatrimony.com/&quot;&gt;http://www.bhratmatrimony.com/&lt;/a&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want i&#39;ll also get you &#39;i love cats&#39;/&#39; I love strawberries&#39;/I love tomato ketchup&#39;/ &#39;I love juhu beach&#39; badges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ll get you your own pet Katra/Batra/Garfield whichever is bigger and colorful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ll make sure you are blogrolled more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ll make sure more and new people visit you even if I have to invent spicy episodes to get more comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ll give you a sexy new look with a new wigg or digg which will make you look del.icio.us and slu.rp.y and u.mmm.mmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ll have a blog zodiac button so that I never ever forget your birthday again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ll either get some &#39;bloggy award&#39; or stick a jpg image myself if I don&#39;t get one...but wont disappoint you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the side bar we&#39;ll have things which really interest everyone..&quot;Books I read...&quot;, &quot;what others had to say...&quot;, &quot;Number of hits&quot; because these days it really counts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While doing all I might not get time to say things i really want to. But i believe its ok till the time you are popular. &lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-promise-i-will.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjO4poyaDMdy6wPjKMaJo8a2GT68I5ziu_TQWZfmbO_MLsPFPCYxDwoqwrWON9apbGCXpO7mDslpDQS9HsS_2DVz-uxeUUGmU5PvBCVH-KI0Wnhm097VaCx8J_pieOoYGv1A4-0g/s72-c/cake.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-1436005670352150456</guid><pubDate>Sun, 30 Sep 2007 15:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-14T10:13:37.088-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><title>“Aapko kahaan utarna hai?”</title><description>&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;“Aapko kahaan utarna hai?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Chembur”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“OK”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nod.&lt;br /&gt;Nod.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;A conversation of this kind with an absolute stranger won’t make any sense till the time you are sitting in a II class Mumbai local train. The system carries more than 6.1 million commuters on a daily basis and constitutes more than half of the total daily passenger capacity of the &lt;a href=&quot;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_Railways&quot; title=&quot;Indian Railways&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-decoration: none; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;Indian Railways&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; itself. It has the highest passenger density of any urban railway system in the world.&lt;br /&gt;And trust me, mutual understanding can’t get better. The nods are an agreement saying – ‘After you get down at Chembur, your seat is mine.’&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I used to find it silly. Why not simply sit when a person leaves?&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Why tell her? Why ask him?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;But one is a fool to think so. You will probably be beaten up if you sit without &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;‘booking’&lt;/b&gt; it with the &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;‘lender’&lt;/b&gt; beforehand as someone else would have already done so. Sitting on someone else’s booked seat would be a crime bigger than land encroachment in Kerala. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Approaching a (sitting) prospect is like approaching a super-hit movie ticket vendor on a Saturday night. Most probably sold out. Most probably booked. But we thrive on hope. For all you know she may be your fairy god mother, she may be your &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;lender&lt;/i&gt;. Getting a lender&lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;/b&gt;is as good as getting a PPO. There is assurance. There is security. There is neighbor’s envy. There is owner’s pride.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I call all of them survivors. If you drink only mineral water and always used dad’s car for school&lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;, &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;you probably don’t understand &lt;st1:city st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;st1:place st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;Darwin&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;’s theory. Spend one hour at Kurla Harbor Line station and watch people get in and out of the train, you’ll know what survival of the fittest actua&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjynFsiCttpKZUuGr90mnjhyRvbipJYze4mmwNOlfSkkBtV0uS5t45e_IiCz6MsrI1BFdmd-OjDziUpz38G3_qjPmreytJHrNNfYTFkkxLBU_5r3uKlwZ9KIbowmU0kFHfHs_0QPA/s1600-h/mumbai+local.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjynFsiCttpKZUuGr90mnjhyRvbipJYze4mmwNOlfSkkBtV0uS5t45e_IiCz6MsrI1BFdmd-OjDziUpz38G3_qjPmreytJHrNNfYTFkkxLBU_5r3uKlwZ9KIbowmU0kFHfHs_0QPA/s200/mumbai+local.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116028376576130578&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;lly means. Its as difficult as a wedlock – &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;andar jaana mushkil, bahaar nikalna &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;aur bhi mushkil&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;So what does one standing survivor say to another?&lt;/p&gt;            &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;“Aapko mila&lt;/b&gt; (lender)&lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Haan”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Toh phir, Aapko kahaan utarna hai?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/09/aapko-kahaan-utarna-hai.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjynFsiCttpKZUuGr90mnjhyRvbipJYze4mmwNOlfSkkBtV0uS5t45e_IiCz6MsrI1BFdmd-OjDziUpz38G3_qjPmreytJHrNNfYTFkkxLBU_5r3uKlwZ9KIbowmU0kFHfHs_0QPA/s72-c/mumbai+local.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-1926186276643720570</guid><pubDate>Tue, 25 Sep 2007 14:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-14T10:14:05.856-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">boredom</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">men</category><title>In love but a little lazy</title><description>&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Too tired to write. Yet I feel the need to dedicate some space to my latest heartthrobs…&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ranbir Kapoor and M S Dhoni!   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom fell for the father, I fell for the hot &#39;son&#39;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyCWXhRNBEMxg9af0-6cbRW17GdoOTU5jd5iHEuc2mWiQw7hs6Ykqj1poRddJnFF_rEjEXuxnFbMOfV2-xSW3y7xtvtMv5WXjsc48rH0qZBohT7JgfkRLLvI9KgbjSICmlrGqIog/s1600-h/ranbir-wallpaper-48441-5641.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyCWXhRNBEMxg9af0-6cbRW17GdoOTU5jd5iHEuc2mWiQw7hs6Ykqj1poRddJnFF_rEjEXuxnFbMOfV2-xSW3y7xtvtMv5WXjsc48rH0qZBohT7JgfkRLLvI9KgbjSICmlrGqIog/s200/ranbir-wallpaper-48441-5641.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114157879664016898&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I also fell for a fella-cancerian, the hot &#39;Dhon&#39;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0_ORZrScP_CyOj9n7wsBPQuWdA8dt4MQvradV7-yTWxJ89J6H-3L06tM-oQHnB6OhpVOsVV3tt5lyxgC7sUC0w6fBLwSbR74Y8PBLorksi_DeQUE7Jm8GlGZ2xHBgkjDp8e7mIQ/s1600-h/mahindra-singh-dhoni-podmasti-703149.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0_ORZrScP_CyOj9n7wsBPQuWdA8dt4MQvradV7-yTWxJ89J6H-3L06tM-oQHnB6OhpVOsVV3tt5lyxgC7sUC0w6fBLwSbR74Y8PBLorksi_DeQUE7Jm8GlGZ2xHBgkjDp8e7mIQ/s200/mahindra-singh-dhoni-podmasti-703149.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114157523181731314&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Waah!! Kya banaya hai bhagwaan ne  :)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/09/in-love-but-little-lazy.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyCWXhRNBEMxg9af0-6cbRW17GdoOTU5jd5iHEuc2mWiQw7hs6Ykqj1poRddJnFF_rEjEXuxnFbMOfV2-xSW3y7xtvtMv5WXjsc48rH0qZBohT7JgfkRLLvI9KgbjSICmlrGqIog/s72-c/ranbir-wallpaper-48441-5641.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-1924869543175791900</guid><pubDate>Thu, 13 Sep 2007 17:10:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-14T10:13:37.089-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><title>I can’t handle alumni meets. For various reasons.</title><description>&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Everyone comes in cars. I felt like a lesser mortal. I and Divya grandly entered ITC Grand Maratha in a black and yellow auto (as a tribute to the auto-rickshaw community). After the meet I decided to be good to all the car-owning acquaintances in and around Mumbai. I also plan to start a All Mumbai SIBM Alumni Car Owners Association on Orkut (... a post-Kerala symptom).&lt;/p&gt;                    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Then again, I can’t handle them coz I don’t get as &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;senti&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; as I am supposed to. I start faking it a little. When they show old pictures I make a stupid sad face and groan a long &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;‘Ohh Yaaaaaaaar..’&lt;/i&gt;. That’s what I do when I am actually missing my friends. A long &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;‘Yaa…aaar..’&lt;/i&gt; and then another &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;‘Kyaaa yaaa…aaar’.&lt;/i&gt; I keep moaning &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;yaaaar-yaar&lt;/i&gt; till someone asks me why am I not on the dance floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, I can’t gulp that I am an &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;earning&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;corporate&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; now. Living with the fact that I am an alumnus forces me to act mature. It’s a burden I tell you. I wanted to ‘&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;boooo…’&lt;/i&gt; something going on stage. I suddenly realized that I was coming from office and if someone from my company is present here then it might just be one more career limiting move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I had to hug people whom I never bothered to smile at in college. Worst was banging into people from other batches. We exchanged numbers which, I for sure know, will occupy space in our phonebooks for no reason. We exchanged greetings after which we appreciated the paintings on the wall as we had nothing to talk about. I would have preferred meeting a wholesaler. Atleast he’d have something to crib about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worst of all. It made me miss all those people who weren’t there. I &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; missed the &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;yeda&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; gang. Had they been here, we’d have either spent time sitting in a corner playing Bingo or copying each others dance steps. But we would have had fun. The kind of fun I can never have with any other set of people in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miss you guys. The alumni meet was great. It would have been greater had you been there. I just got a little senti later that night (and that weekend). That’s the only real reason I can’t handle alumni meets. &lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-cant-handle-alumni-meets-for-various.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-1591226927800762924</guid><pubDate>Thu, 30 Aug 2007 06:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-14T10:13:37.089-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><title>I am a loser</title><description>Everyone in the world specializes in something....My mom in scolding me, my sister in mocking at me, my dog in licking, my friends in making fun of me, Air Deccan staff in stealing........ I specialize in losing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at a loser when I look at the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost my phone again.... :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad said, &lt;em&gt;&quot; are you sure, you lost &lt;strong&gt;only&lt;/strong&gt; the phone...?&quot;&lt;/em&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-am-loser.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-4894227377240456557</guid><pubDate>Tue, 21 Aug 2007 17:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-21T10:49:59.329-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">kerala</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><title>O kerala!!</title><description>&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I’m sad.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I’m leaving Kerala tomorrow and, I don’t know why, its hitting me bad. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Some things I’ll miss:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: 0.25in;&quot;&gt;Uncle, Aunty and Kalyani&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: 0.25in;&quot;&gt;Watching the backwaters from the bus window&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: 0.25in;&quot;&gt;Getting drenched everyday&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-indent: 0.25in;&quot;&gt;Kerala rice a&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaV1yu7abA-7JdB04rJPpcjtW1AC7xTNA3VYbgmJqIRqQhzagSevCJtZDwrP3w6ZAduR9d1rj3PLWdkeM4G8J62QSGZBg-P85qicbc3w-RqmiGtdxSrz-I8HI-CnnrMKWzvzTI0A/s1600-h/alleppey-backwaters-kerela.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaV1yu7abA-7JdB04rJPpcjtW1AC7xTNA3VYbgmJqIRqQhzagSevCJtZDwrP3w6ZAduR9d1rj3PLWdkeM4G8J62QSGZBg-P85qicbc3w-RqmiGtdxSrz-I8HI-CnnrMKWzvzTI0A/s200/alleppey-backwaters-kerela.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101211159534092274&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;nd avial&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.25in;&quot;&gt;Weekly strikes&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.25in;&quot;&gt;The smell of fresh banana chips&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.25in;&quot;&gt;Ayyappan temples&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.25in;&quot;&gt;Cocoa Tree, &lt;st1:state st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;st1:place st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;Cochin&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.25in;&quot;&gt;The Mundu Mafia&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.25in;&quot;&gt;And the zha &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;zha&lt;/i&gt; zha&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;And lots of other small-big things. I know I’ve missed a lot of things. Hope, God’s Own Country gives me a second chance.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/08/o-kerala.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaV1yu7abA-7JdB04rJPpcjtW1AC7xTNA3VYbgmJqIRqQhzagSevCJtZDwrP3w6ZAduR9d1rj3PLWdkeM4G8J62QSGZBg-P85qicbc3w-RqmiGtdxSrz-I8HI-CnnrMKWzvzTI0A/s72-c/alleppey-backwaters-kerela.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-2315260393333149336</guid><pubDate>Fri, 17 Aug 2007 17:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-17T12:15:45.078-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">fun</category><title>Chak de - One of the 3 best things in the last 3 months</title><description>&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;1)&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;SRK &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;Every one will love him…… Coz he is sexy!! Coz he gives his typical eyebr&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi83eVgdxl_GSAKLtnjVt_D73LW3UtzZShCQMeHjmLx_Gs_yBi2mPpdtB2olvQO35whIb5clZ8dPb62adisA-4Xn43o5Wnlgb3CemydqeO9Did4ejeJYxEAuVioE2aTW8BXTNPmdg/s1600-h/SRKchak_de_india_06.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi83eVgdxl_GSAKLtnjVt_D73LW3UtzZShCQMeHjmLx_Gs_yBi2mPpdtB2olvQO35whIb5clZ8dPb62adisA-4Xn43o5Wnlgb3CemydqeO9Did4ejeJYxEAuVioE2aTW8BXTNPmdg/s200/SRKchak_de_india_06.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099730997839773618&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ow twitch in the end (and only when required). In his white shirt and Rayban sunglasses, gives his fans a mini turn on!&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes felt he was going through a MPD coz when sitting with the ‘Association’ in the conference hall he’d throw chutzpah filled declarations &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;bilkul&lt;/i&gt; absentmindedly and would shift his gaze from one person to another as if he were Russell Crowe from ‘A Beautiful Mind’. ..Then again, he’d get into ‘Any Given Sunday’ Al Pacino’s shoes, trying to buck up his girlies against the indian men’s hockey team. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;2)&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;It gives you wings!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;       Its beyond imagination of an average mind. About Hockey! About Women hockey!&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh32X_aeKUwcEl24sylUCqT5NSzlmI1FDQXzAWYJ2AFZXv5vxQYz_4QYk2zHqxnDKEQf5fVpOuxNgneFuQMq25yUjlG5JtBQwulOUlJdk7_ethmspfVU_RQTw_MK1MpH9dRiRZfQw/s1600-h/chak_de_india_02.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh32X_aeKUwcEl24sylUCqT5NSzlmI1FDQXzAWYJ2AFZXv5vxQYz_4QYk2zHqxnDKEQf5fVpOuxNgneFuQMq25yUjlG5JtBQwulOUlJdk7_ethmspfVU_RQTw_MK1MpH9dRiRZfQw/s200/chak_de_india_02.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099731487466045378&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;About victory in women hockey!!! For 2.5 hours it took me to a utopian world where we defeated &lt;st1:country-region st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;New Zealand&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, &lt;st1:country-region st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;South Africa&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, &lt;st1:country-region st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;England&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, &lt;st1:place st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;Australia&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;..!! Indians are emotional fools, hence all of us will love this movie as it beautifully roasts on something each one of us yearns for – Victory, Redemption, Pride…Public’s applause and screams at every goal, every slap, every revelation proves that we ache for impetus and we constantly need the ‘Go India!!!’ slogan behind us.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;3)&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;The girls!!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;They make it great. The haryanvi tomboy, the &lt;st1:place st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;st1:city st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;chandigarh&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; sex bomb, the jharkhand pair, the ill-tempered sardarni everyone rocked, &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;me&lt;/i&gt; &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;lik&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;es&lt;/i&gt; the bitch-turned-princes&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC3jEdnTqpwo_VVEzyVDCoMqYhRx-MzLDpL0p6c_jsFHJmbbNy3WyJ71yRoCQwH0Vd-VVQAo_RsOI6_i1lkS85lgtYmYP0CrPBrnLPB79j04viHMU5FiHI9lBA1oLzrRY0iY-AXg/s1600-h/girls+chak+de.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC3jEdnTqpwo_VVEzyVDCoMqYhRx-MzLDpL0p6c_jsFHJmbbNy3WyJ71yRoCQwH0Vd-VVQAo_RsOI6_i1lkS85lgtYmYP0CrPBrnLPB79j04viHMU5FiHI9lBA1oLzrRY0iY-AXg/s200/girls+chak+de.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099731977092317138&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;s Bindiya Naik (Shilpa Shukla) in the movie. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;Though, Vidya Malvade (Vidya Sharma) disappointed me. She did nothing apart from being &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;right&lt;/i&gt; all the time and screaming &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;‘&lt;st1:place st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;st1:city st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;Vidya Sharma&lt;/st1:city&gt;, &lt;st1:country-region st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;India&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;’&lt;/i&gt; thrice. She was a puppet captain to the hockey team, just like BJP would say our PM is to our country. SRK played &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Soniya ji&lt;/i&gt; on-screen and didn’t let her do any captainship :P&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;4)&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;The eve- teaser hammering&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;This one, I personally loooved! They rocked at it. I wished it were in the field so that the ladies could use hockey sticks instead of floor vipers. Mast dialogue by SRK, &lt;i style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;“kya karien hamare hockey mein chakke nahi hote”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;5)&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;The Product Placements&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;      Ultratech and Puma couldn&#39;t find a better platform. I don&#39;t think McDonalds and Aaj Tak  were &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; placements.Dunno if McDonalds should have let their venue to the director to host a brawl.... The SRK-Aaj Tak reporter scuffle and then the blame game  highlighted the askewed vision of the media. It might bring a bad name to the media house.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;/p&gt;In the end, there was something that confused moi!   &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Coach Kabir Khan says it &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;hazaar&lt;/i&gt; baar, &lt;i style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;“Ham &lt;st1:country-region st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;st1:place st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;India&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; ke liye khel rahe hain, fir a&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;pni tea&lt;/i&gt;&lt;a style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot; onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7trbN-K623ncoFva1a3oCEfrPyQk2v_2dJ70AuYUlAurWXd8rFkME-xDKLT06j0eYEylPKF-VQ2u-tAR_2OhyKjhMZhTunGAI4NyMI_L6FilDzvXuONqAcQ9HuUvybHIu8T3-Fg/s1600-h/chak_de_india_09.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7trbN-K623ncoFva1a3oCEfrPyQk2v_2dJ70AuYUlAurWXd8rFkME-xDKLT06j0eYEylPKF-VQ2u-tAR_2OhyKjhMZhTunGAI4NyMI_L6FilDzvXuONqAcQ9HuUvybHIu8T3-Fg/s200/chak_de_india_09.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099732445243752418&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;m ke liye, aur uske baad agar himmat ho toh, apne liye”&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/i&gt; Nice line Coach!! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;But I think Kabir ji was coaching &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;for&lt;/i&gt; something else, something very personal to him. He didn’t start coaching coz he wanted the Women’s team to win or because he loved his country. He started because he wanted to prove a point and take off the &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;‘gaddaar’&lt;/i&gt; label. I found Kabir’s role contradictory to what went in his mind. But nevertheless, I loved it.&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/08/chak-de-one-of-3-best-things-in-last-3.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi83eVgdxl_GSAKLtnjVt_D73LW3UtzZShCQMeHjmLx_Gs_yBi2mPpdtB2olvQO35whIb5clZ8dPb62adisA-4Xn43o5Wnlgb3CemydqeO9Did4ejeJYxEAuVioE2aTW8BXTNPmdg/s72-c/SRKchak_de_india_06.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-7184789832410203612</guid><pubDate>Sun, 12 Aug 2007 05:45:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-13T08:59:52.573-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">kerala</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">men</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">sales</category><title>Control Engineering</title><description>&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Habit is either the best of servants or the worst of masters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;After three months into my first stint, I realize that meeting sales targets traveling all day in KSRTC buses, in tiny villages, in this ceaseless rainfall, in places where all you get in the name of vegetarian food is a Kerala &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;porotha&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;pazhampuri&lt;/i&gt;,,,, ain’t easy :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Esp. if you’re in a country where you don’t know the language. Esp. if you are a girl. Esp. if you’ve screwed up habits!&lt;br /&gt;Lore says, Control is the key to success. I don’t disagree.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;ul style=&quot;margin-top: 0in;&quot; type=&quot;disc&quot;&gt;&lt;li class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;I love      drinking water. I used to drink lots and lots and lots of it before I realized,      I was searching for a clean loo every two hours while &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;doing&lt;/span&gt; the market. The thought      of using a public toilet killed me. Once I made my salesman sit in a coffee shop, while I used the washroom. My (water) drinking      habits were getting too much to handle. Mornings would be spent      answering the million dollar question, &quot;where would I get a clean place to      pee in this little town if I need to??&quot; Thus, I      decided to control my water intake. Now my early mornings and late evenings are      spent savoring the liquid&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:Wingdings;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt; :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I hate to admit, but I envy indian men when it comes to this.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;They pee anywhere, everywhere. Shamelessly. They don&#39;t even need a clean place (I&#39;ve never met any guy searching for one!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;    &lt;ul style=&quot;margin-top: 0in;&quot; type=&quot;disc&quot;&gt;&lt;li class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Another      place where I quickly need to get my control mechanisms working, is my      &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;back slapping habit&lt;/span&gt;. I &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;somewhere&lt;/i&gt;      am of the contention, that if people are really relishing their work, they’d do a lot of &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;real hard&lt;/span&gt; back slapping to each      other. I realized how culturally insensitive I was the first time I hit my      mallu salesman on the back. He instantly moved away several meters and till      date refuses to work with me coz he is a &lt;i style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;brahmachari!!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;    &lt;ul style=&quot;margin-top: 0in;&quot; type=&quot;disc&quot;&gt;&lt;li class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Thirdly      and most importantly, it’s the parlance. They don’t understand when I ask      them for directions in hindi or english but they’d give me a dirty look      when I use the F word. I’ve learnt that there are some      not-to-be-uttered-words (even when you know the other person doesn’t know      your language) like sex, daroo, love, kiss &lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;to name a few. Hindi Gaalis like &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;BC, MC,      C*****, G***** &lt;/span&gt;should never-never-never be used. They eat drink sleep in      Malayalam but abuse in hindi. And I..., gotta control baby! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I listen to Janet &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;chechi’s&lt;/span&gt; song, for inspiration nowadays:&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;This is a story about control, my control&lt;br /&gt;Control of what I say, control of what I do&lt;br /&gt;And this time Im gonna do it my way&lt;br /&gt;I hope you enjoy this as much as I do&lt;br /&gt;Are we ready? I am? cause its all about control&lt;br /&gt;And Ive got lots of it&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.25in; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;-&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Janet Jackson, Control&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/08/control-engineering.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-2287411259069303879</guid><pubDate>Thu, 09 Aug 2007 13:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-13T09:05:46.488-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">men</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">sales</category><title>Oft repeated words of wisdom</title><description>&lt;p  style=&quot;font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style=&quot;font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman; font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&quot;fat rahi hai...&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style=&quot;font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman; font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&quot;mara raha hoon...&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  style=&quot;font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman; font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&quot;kat &lt;st1:city st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;st1:place st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;gaya&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; hai...&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman; font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;&quot;  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;&quot;  &gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: times new roman; font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;&quot;baja di...&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;&quot;  &gt;Golden Rule : Don&#39;t ask &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;&#39;kya&#39;&lt;/span&gt; after anyone says any of the above&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;&quot;  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;&quot;  &gt;Thanks to sales.&lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/08/oft-repeated-words-of-wisdom.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-1273451454152525153</guid><pubDate>Sun, 29 Jul 2007 15:35:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-13T09:01:48.315-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">sales</category><title>All for the eye-pie!</title><description>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5y7_x35ga6xHbfT9ZAiTsqehi35QEpsbHLMPQ7J2UFV7vPIuMJHdBlqbX1LwtAJgz3-2K4poszJQxXRXqzPErXl8EDWmdVOGeHM-_dFOOAQC4CKNGOkAKbWBs-RwsZZyp6JKxIw/s1600-h/Pepsodent.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5y7_x35ga6xHbfT9ZAiTsqehi35QEpsbHLMPQ7J2UFV7vPIuMJHdBlqbX1LwtAJgz3-2K4poszJQxXRXqzPErXl8EDWmdVOGeHM-_dFOOAQC4CKNGOkAKbWBs-RwsZZyp6JKxIw/s200/Pepsodent.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092644771184662946&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL96m8H9uQITdO9ecnuMOv427xr-gG6Bc6fTKz9rmHbL6_a2yl66_xZtEPi1HDCZDMqD4mrdOu1bAvyAhIdq_qkwMvLxh9KLr7Mzz8nKRz65yPTI-UxytXvfaZHpDZKLMCCvmiiQ/s1600-h/Bingo.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 187px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL96m8H9uQITdO9ecnuMOv427xr-gG6Bc6fTKz9rmHbL6_a2yl66_xZtEPi1HDCZDMqD4mrdOu1bAvyAhIdq_qkwMvLxh9KLr7Mzz8nKRz65yPTI-UxytXvfaZHpDZKLMCCvmiiQ/s200/Bingo.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092644397522508178&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;If you walk in your regular grocery shop, chances are that you’d be picking up your pack of chips from a spacecraft like Bingo stand or your toothpaste from a rocket sized Pepsodent gondola. &lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;If you plan to open a retail store, I suggest don’t buy the furniture as the stands, racks etc will soon follow, don’t waste money on painting the walls, the wallpapers and vinyls will be there soon. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Older home-grown brands like AVT are leaving their diffidence behind to fight with international majors like Nestle in display and shelf space. Innovation is at its &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;oomphy&lt;/i&gt; best. A brand like Appy, which desperately wants to be called a &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;co&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;ol drink &lt;/i&gt;in its TV ads&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;,&lt;/i&gt;throws a sex ap&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgixgXFVuUiZc5argpqbuj5Zdnb9z3qDH2pPTk8GqLhzkmVvHqWqMr-q3CFeDtdRcxy-3n_TdLaVuwvglvnD4kp44VPBx68IVuZHORi7LCkix3fZk2rXCE52jwYKikv_7QThn-dlw/s1600-h/Appy.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgixgXFVuUiZc5argpqbuj5Zdnb9z3qDH2pPTk8GqLhzkmVvHqWqMr-q3CFeDtdRcxy-3n_TdLaVuwvglvnD4kp44VPBx68IVuZHORi7LCkix3fZk2rXCE52jwYKikv_7QThn-dlw/s200/Appy.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092646222883609042&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;peal when it comes to its champagne like stylish display.&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzOI8U8c5rFpGvsigFWLQl05-MezbvVD2Jl4uZ15O3TJASMVIhcwnPI0tCbXb-6QJwQNVNKLwddH3mlY7CZgDrWiwm-Bf0xo6vr8VL9YayeeHo-eNinathXTS9UmsWRridOPK7w/s1600-h/Kissan.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 116px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzOI8U8c5rFpGvsigFWLQl05-MezbvVD2Jl4uZ15O3TJASMVIhcwnPI0tCbXb-6QJwQNVNKLwddH3mlY7CZgDrWiwm-Bf0xo6vr8VL9YayeeHo-eNinathXTS9UmsWRridOPK7w/s200/Kissan.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092645660242893250&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The kind of dough companies were spending five years back on display was nothing compared to what they are doing today. The amount of merchandising done inside a normal &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;kirana&lt;/i&gt; store shouts for the &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;‘buy moi’&lt;/i&gt; pull brands are creating for themselves. A few years back one could see (in a few high- throughput shops) max-to-max a Cadbury dispenser and a Coke refrigerator as &lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;‘company ka maal’.&lt;/i&gt; These days you have Boost vinyls, Lays stands, Hutch sign boards, Kissan Jam racks, Airtel counters, Sunfeast gates, Bytes hangars, Maggie bags, Munch cut outs, Vicks dispensers, Red bull refrigerators, Cadbury visi-coolers, Red Label swinging insignias, Surf washing-machine-resembling boxes, Mentos trays and what not. Everyone wants to rule the &lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGhAiIwH1Y3B1LyjY_t_XSJuR9m4ZhhQbUi2KY83TVqhDPO_vi-wz37FDJQtCIxHIQ3erZjOeN188GhhjUPKPniHPExnq5yjJOjDBptnWoPSlbRKLjTA0NbrUm4rlPlQs45jgKtw/s1600-h/Red+Label.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGhAiIwH1Y3B1LyjY_t_XSJuR9m4ZhhQbUi2KY83TVqhDPO_vi-wz37FDJQtCIxHIQ3erZjOeN188GhhjUPKPniHPExnq5yjJOjDBptnWoPSlbRKLjTA0NbrUm4rlPlQs45jgKtw/s200/Red+Label.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092646502056483298&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;category nobody is ready to be a anybody!&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDyLYm1zCqdPcqvr6wdtAL1MNdqJKycblce5nUEulkCL_-7Z-lGwxM05fUs7xkhi0op90RIbAcuwBK1qmhDTDG4zGHLG_4Og5wc8Rj8zYnk2LZZB35vTo0ysXnHGCnRc98C1Sdwg/s1600-h/Mentos.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDyLYm1zCqdPcqvr6wdtAL1MNdqJKycblce5nUEulkCL_-7Z-lGwxM05fUs7xkhi0op90RIbAcuwBK1qmhDTDG4zGHLG_4Og5wc8Rj8zYnk2LZZB35vTo0ysXnHGCnRc98C1Sdwg/s200/Mentos.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092646781229357554&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Fight for shelf-space is far worse when it comes to organized retail. Companies want branding on walls, flooring, ceiling, staff uniforms, bla blah….and then there are nitty gritties like extra margin, display charges etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Nowadays when I walk in a shop, more than the product, I appreciate the efforts put in by brand managers to catch my attention as a customer!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/07/all-for-eye-pie.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5y7_x35ga6xHbfT9ZAiTsqehi35QEpsbHLMPQ7J2UFV7vPIuMJHdBlqbX1LwtAJgz3-2K4poszJQxXRXqzPErXl8EDWmdVOGeHM-_dFOOAQC4CKNGOkAKbWBs-RwsZZyp6JKxIw/s72-c/Pepsodent.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-6798944116646070913</guid><pubDate>Fri, 20 Jul 2007 17:35:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-13T09:02:53.948-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">kerala</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><title>What is the only &#39;dry&#39; thing left in Kerala?</title><description>Humor, perhaps.</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/07/what-is-only-dry-thing-left-in-kerala.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-1522524045272464681</guid><pubDate>Tue, 17 Jul 2007 15:53:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-13T09:12:06.840-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">boredom</category><title>The day before yesterday</title><description>&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-size:180%;&quot; &gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;The day before yesterday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Bug 23 bit me so badly last night that I suddenly felt like going back to all my &lt;st1:place st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;st1:placetype st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;School&lt;/st1:placetype&gt; &lt;st1:placename st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;days-&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;st1:place st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;st1:placename st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;College&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; days- AIESEC days-SIBM days once again. To add to my misery, a few sadistic friends (Pai, Pathak &amp; MJ) called me in the middle of their reunion in Pune. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Damn!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I brainlessly went through some 5 GB of old pics and videos and felt sad. I listened to ‘Wonderwall’ and ‘High’ and felt sadder :(&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Two things that made me believe that I am just 7 years from the officially dreaded ‘not-to-be-mentioned’ number:&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 45pt; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:Symbol;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:0;&quot;&gt;·&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:0;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;I went home for a nap after lunch, before going out in the evening&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 45pt; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:Symbol;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:0;&quot;&gt;·&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:0;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;I have the ‘tanha tanha..’ song from Rangeela as my phone ringtone&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I spent 90% of my day talking to people over the phone and the rest 10% to cutting birthday cakes(s)। Thanks to Nik and D, Pritam, Dinesh and of course mum-dad!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:180%;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yesterday&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized it was Monday again and along with my usual distributor-market visits, I had to go the bank to re-apply for my ATM cards.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I entered the &lt;st1:place st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;North Ernakulam&lt;/st1:place&gt; branch of HDFC Bank through their ATM door at 9.45 am. The gifted heavily lip-sticked help-desk woman stared at me like I’d entered her bedroom at the wrong time. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;She: “Entu?” (What?)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Me: “Chechi, enikku malayalam arrayill” (Sister, I don’t know Malayalam)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;She: “Tamil?” (Do you know tamil?)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Me: “Illa(No). I lost my ATM cards two days back. I need to re-apply” &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;She: “Irrukku” (Sit)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;She gave me a form. I guess it was part of her job to offer everyone a Gold card. With her 10% english and 90% malayalam muddle and vociferous gesticulations she tried to explain the benefits and yearly charges to me. I was getting late for work but somewhere identified with her incompetent sales pitch to a customer who doesn’t understand her language, so sat and tried to decipher the details. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Those ten minutes were full of unhappy ugly realizations. It was like staring at the mirror. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;She did a miserable job. It reminded me of those dozens of hopeless efforts I’d put in my last few days to convince those uncompromising contradictory retailers. I’d spoken softly (and sometimes not so softly), smiled at their smirks, cleaned their ant-ridden display counters, put posters on their cluttered dirty walls and even shook hands (I hate doing that with random men!!) but just didn’t work sometimes:(&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Pitying her, I silently filled the Gold card form.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;color: rgb(51, 51, 153);&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:180%;&quot; &gt;Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;It was my third consecutive visit to the police station to get the ‘certificate of complaint’ so that I could apply for a duplicate copy of my PAN card and Driving License. No matter what the general perception is, I think it’s a rather friendly place. Atleast people were &lt;i&gt;trying&lt;/i&gt; to understand your problem or atleast they acknowledged that there &lt;i&gt;was&lt;/i&gt; a problem(expecting that they’d &lt;i&gt;do&lt;/i&gt; something about it is asking for too much).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I made pretty good friends with a lady constable who’d just sit and feel bad for you and go back to her newspaper (she used &lt;i&gt;‘aii-aiiyyo’&lt;/i&gt; some 100 times as if it were the biggest robbery she’d ever witnessed) and the sub-inspector’s typist who tried hard to speak english.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;“Molu..&lt;st1:city st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;st1:place st=&quot;on&quot;&gt;Bombay&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;?” &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;“For work Molu?”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;“Entinannu..come?”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I didn’t much understand of what all he said but in today&#39;s one hour, I had tea with him and asked about his children and family. He told me what would be the best time to see Mr. Sub Inspector which means I’ll see him tomorrow again&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:Wingdings;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:0;&quot;&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:0;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;On the way back I noticed two things which made me feel a bit closer to my homeland.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;First at ‘Franch Express’ courier services. Reminded me of the ‘Sandwhich’ – ‘Berger’ snack counter we had near my bus stop in school:&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitifFg5ueVKjIeCleYVrFpmFTnr1KcgkvknYXHcHCahOuLTf-wQVxDMLoPSSlo1hLpLs87smLilt1NwNX-Y10ZaLu7-2Dn79AAf3xfkSQv-0lEgkREPNqUKhFABwUPqV9GatVtdQ/s1600-h/crooked+angrezi.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088202263571766354&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitifFg5ueVKjIeCleYVrFpmFTnr1KcgkvknYXHcHCahOuLTf-wQVxDMLoPSSlo1hLpLs87smLilt1NwNX-Y10ZaLu7-2Dn79AAf3xfkSQv-0lEgkREPNqUKhFABwUPqV9GatVtdQ/s200/crooked+angrezi.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Second, on a movie billboard. Made me miss those half-hindi half english name plates in Jaipur eg. Retd. Lt. Colonel R . S. राजावत, Dr. D. S. मीना :&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhgrGMYOFyEwhkLrzZULa3hwOBdgjJIX0LI3oJgbCFEFChn9usgqRg56ebJ7gZ7VnwHyty53I10LguoHNDkISFod0XVipYOMeldqyc_WoFk1Dpevqd5FizurNQw4w2ljFrJxugiA/s1600-h/Half+angrezi.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088207542086573154&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhgrGMYOFyEwhkLrzZULa3hwOBdgjJIX0LI3oJgbCFEFChn9usgqRg56ebJ7gZ7VnwHyty53I10LguoHNDkISFod0XVipYOMeldqyc_WoFk1Dpevqd5FizurNQw4w2ljFrJxugiA/s200/Half+angrezi.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/07/day-before-yesterday-bug-23-bit-me-so.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitifFg5ueVKjIeCleYVrFpmFTnr1KcgkvknYXHcHCahOuLTf-wQVxDMLoPSSlo1hLpLs87smLilt1NwNX-Y10ZaLu7-2Dn79AAf3xfkSQv-0lEgkREPNqUKhFABwUPqV9GatVtdQ/s72-c/crooked+angrezi.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-8081160157094223709</guid><pubDate>Sat, 14 Jul 2007 16:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-13T09:14:42.863-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">boredom</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><title>J’ai 23 ans!</title><description>&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Aiyyo!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I’m gonna be 23 in a couple of hours and I have lots to whine about.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;ol style=&quot;margin-top: 0in;&quot; start=&quot;1&quot; type=&quot;1&quot;&gt;&lt;li class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;No      family and friends to celebrate with&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:Wingdings;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;      (not that I’m crazy about cutting cakes but now that I’ve nothing else to      do, might as well whine)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;I’m factually      penniless (my wallet’s destiny was similar to my mp3 player’s and Nikhil’s      phone’s – all got stolen)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;No      plans for tomorrow (thanks to the never-ending downpour– viral fever is in      vogue and I joined the club today!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;My cumulative      sales achievement in the last two weeks is 88.5 % (I don’t need help from      people to get completely f***** if I don’t do something about it)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;I’m in      Kerala for 42 more days! Everything      about me is becoming Malayali by the day. I go to ‘affice’ in ‘odos’ and ‘besses’.      My name is ‘Pervel Serme’ and my &lt;b style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;&quot;&gt;real &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;name is ‘Parvathy’. And I sell      ch‘o’colates (‘o’ pronounced as ‘oa’ in Boat). &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;Damn      it, I’m single!! &lt;span style=&quot;font-family:Wingdings;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;:( :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:Wingdings;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;      (I shouldn’t be expecting any flowers, gifts, cards…boohoo I’m such a      loser in life)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;From tomorrow,      my parents will suddenly start their ‘groom-finding’ exercise with full force,      which I had requested to put on hold till I’m 23.  &lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;The word &#39;base&#39; doesn&#39;t hold any hidden connotation anymore. (I&#39;m in BASE business:))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;I cannot      find many people online to whom I can crib. Hence, this post.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;I’m so      bored I can’t find a 10&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; reason!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/07/jai-23-ans.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33990786.post-3520046995628176970</guid><pubDate>Fri, 13 Jul 2007 07:47:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-13T09:01:48.315-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">sales</category><title>Adsense ??</title><description>Since childhood, Outlook has been one of my favorite weekly news magazine. I laud them for their articles and reports, style of writing, consideration to detail, gripping headlines, attention-grabbing graphics and most importantly their technique of making bland news interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What goes missing sometimes is the synchrony between the marketing and the editorial teams. I admire Vinod Mehta (Editor –In-Chief, Outlook) for his quality of journalism and principled writing but the latest issue of Outlook magazine demonstrated low business sense on his part. Not knowing whom to hold responsible, I blame him for silly placement of ads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take for instance page 27 of the 16th July issue:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPoJ8lVT5-fV7OHu4YRazpVFGFBTlHntSMCP43Crci0O4o7uC0F2Z2yzrkd9FOdlJ4iqWmdIqH7Ab7lyJ2R_xmBymggA7QLc38RNPER_-ZCARYUjtY4DanlhVEWMPuf8LUX5uYQ/s1600-h/Image009.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPoJ8lVT5-fV7OHu4YRazpVFGFBTlHntSMCP43Crci0O4o7uC0F2Z2yzrkd9FOdlJ4iqWmdIqH7Ab7lyJ2R_xmBymggA7QLc38RNPER_-ZCARYUjtY4DanlhVEWMPuf8LUX5uYQ/s200/Image009.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086588133257550914&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;West Bengal CM Buddhadeb Bhattacharya looks rather uncomfortable sharing the same page with a Jockey model in her undergarments! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Dear Vinod,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;My first suggestion: Recruit more MBAs like me who have learnt nothing else but 4Ps in their 2 years of B-schooling. (‘Placement’ happens to be one of the 4Ps) It might just help! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;My second suggestion: If you have too many MBAs in your team, sack a few. It might help even more!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;  For The Irony of Adsense read Nikhil&#39;s blog - http://nikmuse.blogspot.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://boredbrahmin.blogspot.com/2007/07/irony-of-adsense-part-2.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Parul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPoJ8lVT5-fV7OHu4YRazpVFGFBTlHntSMCP43Crci0O4o7uC0F2Z2yzrkd9FOdlJ4iqWmdIqH7Ab7lyJ2R_xmBymggA7QLc38RNPER_-ZCARYUjtY4DanlhVEWMPuf8LUX5uYQ/s72-c/Image009.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>