The Odyssey of a Warrior

Blitzkrieg Internet on Ubuntu 14.04

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 15 Nov 2014 13:19:00 +0000

A victim of a virus crash on Windows 7. The nasty virus wiped out all my data along with my faith on the operating system. Forever? FOREVER!

I bought a Lenovo laptop and installed Ubuntu Trusty Tahr. Installation was kind of a sail through after toying around here and there in the BIOS. After shifting my sails to Banking, I felt a little scared when I realized everything on this OS needed manually tweaking. I was able to install Wireless and enable a USB port for my wireless dongle - from then on I've enjoyed BSNL Internet and my laptop infinitesimally. Needless to say, True love can only begin, never end!

Aila! Fifth Year!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 27 Jun 2014 17:11:00 +0000

This is my life's most nerve wrecking time. To choose, behold and hold on to a guy for the rest of my life, in sickness, in health and forever.
Wish people would just write down everything and bind to it, like it happens at work.
Yet, I'm one of those persons desirous of falling in love and finding that one and only one.
I still count my blessings. I humbly bow my head when someone blesses me and say to myself, I need that one real bad.
Only the Lord knows I need to ask for strength to face my man when he proposes me to be a part of his life forever. Or need I be popping the question.
I madly follow The Secret's philosophy. I believe in it.

Five years is a really long time.A long time with a friend. With a colleague. With a smart phone. With the same email ID. And so, the fifth year of my blog and me has gone a long way, in discovering myself. So, on this day, I wish my blog a very happy birthday.

In this light, I hope everyone finds their mate in life, to share, to enjoy, to help each other, to bring happiness in each others life and to find joy in eating into each others time.

On this note, I sincerely hope my delusion is defied by love and more of pure romantic love.

Cordial Ties

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 04 Nov 2013 15:46:00 +0000

My article was published in The Hindu newspaper on July 27, 2010. I was very happy. So here's what got me published.

Man is a social being. Being social beings, we hold relationships with each other as a very important facet of our life. Popular culture is brimming with books, movies and songs that are based on relationships . I am often mystified at the many kinds of relationships that develop among people.

I joined an MNC nearly seven months ago and have attended many birthday parties, which are extravagant and pompous compared to the farewells which are solemn.

How can spending 10 hours with someone every weekday manage to bring such a deep emotional connect is something I do not understand. As far as friendship is concerned, the need for friends change as years goes by. At the kindergarten level, being friends meant sharing toys. At high school, it meant about being there for each other.

In the work place, friends mean ‘survival' and broadly translate to cordial relations with team mates, colleagues and cafeteria mates.

While making friends, we tend to judge people by their looks and in some cases their background also. Many other factors also come into play while deciding the future of the relationship. Most people are stereotyped and judgmental. We keep friends only if they share our interests and are from the same socio-economic background. We create many walls cemented by our ‘racial' thoughts.

Why build walls? Why waste all our energy into it? Mother Teresa herself said, “If you go on judging people all your life, you will have no time to love them”. Why not inculcate this into our lives? The lack of practical thinking must be blamed for these situations.

Finance - The Dawn

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 02 Nov 2013 15:40:00 +0000

It has been a very long time here. A very very very very long time indeed. I've been switching careers and lifestyles. In my previous job I was confined to a yellow cubicle and my attention was directed towards a 14 inch monitor continuously debugging applications and beeping with mails from my client. Occasionally my phone rang- only to join my friends for lunch or a surprise call from my onsite manager asking me if I did even think about filling my weekly time sheet. The floor was always so calm until our delivery manager would bark in saying, "Hey Guys". (no offense though)

I changed my job, the career altogether to a new arena, banking. I don't know what made me do that. It was quite impulsive and very quick-which most of my friends quote. I agree. Very quick. You know what the new scenario is, my new career? I'm a relationship manager. Officially I am called an Assistant Manager. I manage a whole load of stuffs daily. I'm also responsible for the relationship of customers with the Bank. In a normal day, I handle an average of three customers at a time in front of me in addition to my left hand holding a telephone receiver talking to an customer and also replying to irate customers over e-mail and receiving countless snail mails. I've become quite a talker; mind you, only in business hours! My new job tires my vocal chords, but it has taught me the art of being demanding and more importantly managing relationships with people - with time and patience as the parameters. Being in a public sector bank also means my co-workers belong to my parents' generation and that means a whole load of misunderstandings in the bag. It's like being transported in a time machine to a 60's Bollywood movie. I have to work. They too have to work. We have to work. We work together, somehow. (again, patience is required here)

I guess, everyone has to know about finance- at least a bit in their lives. I thank the turns in my life making me study finance. It was a bit difficult to study them - you know, shares, sensex, deposits, cheques, debit cards et all. It was a good experience in all. Now I have two swords in my hand- technology and finance (I hope that helps, someday) I want to quote an incident from my memory. A customer once approached us to open a term deposit- a recurring deposit wherein they deposit a amount in Bank every month for a specific period ( hence recurring). It earns almost double the interest (the rate of interest is decided by the board of directors of the Bank) as compared to your conventional savings bank account plus no tax for recurring deposit hence its alluring. Our minds gaped (remember I am a relationship manager-so I've to control emotions on my face for anything and everything that happens in front of me) when they told us they were ready to put in a lakh every month. We gave out a form to be filled out (This is one thing in Banking - you always need forms for everything as a record for the customer's investment, which also makes it an evidence if in future any allegations are made by the customer in contrast to the paperless world of IT). The amount which needs to be deposited every month has to be mentioned and what date the amount to be deducted from the salary has to be filled up. You know what, the customer called up someone to ask how many zeroes are there in a lakh!

Thinking about the future, the next step in my career ladder is being a Manager which is achieving business targets and managing employee relations. I believe a manager has to have solid connections right through the day they joined the job to achieve those business targets - either with old customers or with your very own colleagues. Oh yes, banking also means incessant transfers all around the country every three years - that's when my dear folks, connections needs to fostered. I won't mention anything on how managers juggle business targets and needs of the employees - that's anyone's guess given staff shortage, pressure from higher authorities, voluntary retirements and young people like me putting up an effort to enjoy their lives amid the mundane routine.

Happy Birthday Kris Talkies !

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 10 Jul 2013 18:55:00 +0000

Awe! Kris Talkies is 4 years old :-)

Adelaide Beckons

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 05 May 2013 03:42:00 +0000

As I stepped out of the car, the cold night September wind brushed my hair away tingling my ears. I was shivering beneath my beige woolen sweater. Kevin rushed to get our suitcases from the cab we had just came from, while Gilbert ushered in all of us inside the airport.

Scott tottered into the metal detecting frame. Its an absolute delight to watch my two year old nephew walk. He looks like the miniature version of Kevin amusing all of us all along the way from our home to the airport.

An hour later after all the security checks, frisking et all, we were seated in the plane heading to Adelaide. It was a non-stop flight. Eight seats were booked in series for us. Three for Gilbert and his family, four for Kevin and his family and the eighth one for me. Our seats were booked almost to the middle of the plane. I chose the seat to the window in the right column. Gilbert sat next to me. Next to him sat Stephanie followed by Ryan, their son of eight years. Behind us, Kevin and his family occupied the four seats. I could hear Scott and his older brother, Damien's excitement while Kevin was explaining our trip's itinerary to his wife Keira from behind. My mind was so numb that I could not decipher what they were talking. Next to me, Gilbert was saying that we were very lucky to get a non-stop flight to Adelaide while I was feeling so lost looking outside, out into the open space looking at my plane's wings flapping, perhaps the pilots were testing it. This trip we take to Adelaide every year always and always makes my mind go so numb that every time I find it so hard to find out whether that am feeling numb because of the chilly wind or the feeling in my head. This year was the sixth year since our parents passed away and the sixth anniversary of my mind going all numb.

The entire trip from the airport till we reach our cousin Phil's home at Adelaide takes us off one day of our patience and sleep from us . I rested my head on the head rest of my seat. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. As I took a bug gulp of the cold air I could feel my heart pumping very hard. I clenched my fists tightly. I could feel the plane lifting off from the ground. Its absolute pleasure being lifted off from the ground either by a Boeing aircraft or by Kevin or Gilbert. Both give me the same tingling sensation of lightness in my head.

A couple of dinners, a couple of breakfasts and one lunch is what takes one to Adelaide from India. Adelaide was hotter than India, with summer around the corner for them but anything to skip work and the weirdo Zayn, is more than welcome. Royalty doesn't mean having long black limos or SUV s. Royalty, I feel is, when people come to pick you up wherever you go and keep you entertained till you drop. I can say, our family(ahem), the Richardson's family is surely royal. Wherever we go, our little extended family comes to pick us up. At the far end of the Arrivals section of the Adelaide Airport, Phil was waving at us. I swear, not even Zayn had made me this happy! A whole load of thanks to Kevin for getting this trip organized at this time of the year. No wonder, I love guys who have gray eyes like him. I rushed up to Phil and jumped up into his arms. I felt an arm around my shoulders. Turning to my right, I found the arm emanating from a man standing next to Phil. It was Phil's younger brother, Mike. I brushed his hair with all the energy I had, destroying his neatly combed hairstyle. To avert Mike from getting after me, Phil kept me on ground quickly and blocked him. Mike smiled at me and looked away. I moved back and in a few moments Phil and Mike were greeting Kevin and Gilbert's family. After hugging each other, we had set off. I dared not to ask where, because every time I had put across such a question, the next hour would go in everyone around pulling my leg. I had always ended up covering up my face with my hands. To have people around you with hormones surging through them and getting their attention towards an innocent earthling, is quite fatal. Trust me!

Reason to Insure my life: My Dream tells me why!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 08 Oct 2012 19:18:00 +0000

The ocean was serene. There were two boats. I and my friend were seated in one. I was absorbed in a friendly chat with my friend. Then, like by a magical appearance, a man, with a princely attitude was in a boat beside ours. He was clad in a velvety black suit and white shirt. ( Of course he wore black trousers). He had a golden ring in his hand. The ring had two concentric circle with a sleek golden chain around one of the circle. He caught my attention and said, “This is how the ring has to be worn”, and proposed me! He slid the golden ring on my hand. His face wore a smile, such a smile that sent worth 1000 volts of electric current right through my heart!

Oh my Love! His presence, touch and his electric smile made my day! It makes me so happy to think that such a life partner can bring days woven with electric like happiness everyday till eternity.

Now, a reason to insure my life! And to stop cribbing about getting bogged down to an (goddamn) insurance policy!

Kris Talkies turns 3 years old!

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Fri, 20 Jul 2012 15:45:00 +0000

Kris Talkies turns three years old!!

Many Many happy returns of the day Kris Talkies !!

A story that won the second prize !!

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Fri, 20 Jul 2012 15:43:00 +0000

Same as the previous post, I created the second version of the story with a proper ending.... which yea, won the second prize !!

I was walking with my friend; I saw a door deep in the jungle. I remembered finding a strange key on the ground and I started spanning the ground around with my friend. Surprisingly, the place we found the key and the door was so near that it seemed like someone might have dropped it on their way out of the door. My friend‘s eyes moved from the ground where it was to my hand as I picked the key up. My friend took the key from my hands and went up to the door. I followed her and stood to her left. The door was shaped like an inverted ‘U’ and deep blue in colour with a strange design on it, akin to the ones we find in Enid Blyton‘s books. On the other sides of the door were huge white walls extending to a great distance on both the sides. It was as if the key was the obvious way to check what was inside. I was expecting my friend to put the key in the keyhole but she did something else. She bent down and peered through the keyhole. When she looked up to me, her face had lightened up with a smile. She motioned me to take a look. I did the same. I could see a faint light on the far end of the door. That made her happy?

“You want to open this door?“, I said. “Yes! I want to!“, gushed Carolyn. “We‘ve come this far, let's see what's ahead, Keerthi“, said Carolyn trying to convince me. By the time I tried to get my vocal chords to make some noise, she had pushed the key into the keyhole. “It can be dangerous inside“, I said. She had turned the key in the keyhole. My stomach twitched. "Maybe, it's a trap", I said and stood there staring, as the key turned in her hands. "What if a lion pounces on you?", I asked her. Click. The key hole had made a faint noise. "I am really excited!", she gushed again. I hope she has a life insurance cover.

Carolyn and I moved back from the huge blue door. The door opened inwards. As it swayed inside, I held Carolyn's hands tightly. We were greeted by a passage glistened with sunlight coming from the other end. The roof of the passage was covered by creeper plants bearing bright yellow flowers which seemed to shine with the sunlight. I was dragged inside by Carolyn. Still holding hands, she was walking a few steps ahead of me while I followed by her side closely. When we reached the other end I did not regret being pulled inside. I was glad. What lied ahead of us, at the far end of the passage was indeed worth all that effort of being dragging that far. It was lush greenery ahead of us. Not only ahead, but all around us. We were in fact standing on grass. The grass was wet, as if it had just stopped raining. To my left, by a stone’s throw away was a metal fence - about two times taller than us. Beyond the fence, I could see the sun shining brightly. The sun's shine plus the wet grass all made it look like as if the grass was yellow, in sync with the rays of the sun. I turned at Carolyn to find her staring beyond the fence. Maybe even she too was stunned by the beauty.

Ahead of us was a narrow path. It was wet and it smelled nice. My heart felt lighter and happier. I had to tell Carolyn that this was so beautiful. "Carol, you know", I started, as we walked on the muddy path. "Shhh", she hushed me up. "Listen!" . I could hear a faint growl. My body shivered. I felt one cold shiver from my brain going straight down to my neck and I shivered. Carolyn had turned towards the fence. She was now pointing to a lioness on the other end of the fence. The lioness was so near to the fence and was licking the fence. I bet, the lioness wanted to bite into one of our fleshes. "Isn't this like those National Geographic channels, Keerthi ?", she asked and giggled. "Oh! I don't know, Carol. ", I said, imagining the lioness chewing the flesh of my leg. "Isn't that lioness so lovely!", she exclaimed. Lovely? Yeah right! The lioness had finished my left leg, and my right leg was in its mouth. "Oh! Come on, girl!”, she said looking at me. "The metal fence separates us from the lioness", she said. "Us from the beast", I corrected her, still looking at the beast. "Hey", she nudged my hand. I barely felt her. The beast was now feasting upon me. "If at all, there's any emergency, I'll ring up Kevin", she said. Kevin, her brother would pick her up even if he was another planet. A super star. "My cell phone always has a signal unlike yours", she added. I pushed the beast away from my mind, looked at her coldly and then smiled. Carolyn's smile always made anyone smile at her.

We decided to leave the lioness there and to take a walk along the path. We walked for a while, until we reached the far end of the narrow muddy path. As we walked along, we found that the path went up like a hill. As we walked up further, we saw huge trees by our right swaying by the cool breeze. We continued to walk down the path. The path now connected to a road. The road looked like a black Nile river. The path had connected to the road from the middle, forming a T shape.

"So, what happened once you went down to the road?", asked Kevin. I had headed straight to Carolyn's home for the night and Kevin her brother was curious to know how we got out of the jungle. Before I could part my lips, Carolyn started, "once we got". Kevin stopped her, "I want to hear it from Keerthi; I'll listen to my baby sister's version later". Carolyn frowned and sunk back into the sofa. We were seated in their lounge in first floor. Kevin and Gilbert, Carolyn's brothers were seated in a sofa opposite to the where we were seated. Sensing a silence in the room, I started, "we reached the road". "We weren't surprised that there were any vehicles passing by". "I was exhausted, I had to rest. As I sat on the downhill, Carol went to the middle of the road and was staring at one end of the road." I wonder why, after all the adventure, I still wonder why. Did she want to escape all of a sudden?

I heard a vehicle coming from far. It sounded like a car. I looked up to find Carolyn still standing in the middle of the road. Her hands were on her waist. The black posh car slowed down and Carolyn walked to the side of the road. I got up and stood next to her. A young tall sturdy man got out of the car. "It was Kenneth, Gilbert!", exclaimed Carolyn, this time at Gilbert, apprehensive that Kevin might stop her again. Kenneth, her fiancé was strangely passing by. It looked strange to me. He whispered in her ears. By then, I was eager to get into his swanky Audi A4. "Kenneth usually heads that way, after work", said Gilbert, answering the blank expression on my face. I was startled. "Kenneth? usual route? ", I said. Kevin and Carolyn were looking at each other and Kevin had this naughty smile on his face. Carolyn couldn't stop herself from smiling. Now what's going on here? "Keerthi, I have been in the jungle before. It happens to be a shortcut and I knew Kenneth would pass by, so I couldn't stop myself from getting there", said Carolyn. I turned towards Carolyn scornfully. I took the sofa pillow and threw it at her face. Kevin and Gilbert whined, “Carol" almost at the same time. "Sorry", said Carolyn. Yes, yes, I smiled again. I had to. Her smile is infectious.

I chased Carolyn from her lounge into her room where she treated me to an instrumental concert with Carolyn on the violin, Kevin on the drum kit and Gilbert on the guitar. They were a wonderful sight. It was much beautiful than being in the jungle with my hormones spurting from my veins now and then. No. I am not being sarcastic.

And about that Audi A4, yes I did get that ride after all! The beast, Audi and that music all made my day and this epic entry in my diary for today. I'll come back tomorrow to share my world with you. So long! See you Diary!

Story with KJ

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Fri, 13 Jul 2012 21:43:00 +0000

This article was written by Kris Junior for a Story Developing Competition

Below was the picture given:

The bolded lines were already given. So here goes! Kris Junior writes again! Reviews and Comments most welcome !!

I was walking with my friend; I saw a door deep in the jungle. I remembered finding a strange key on the ground and I started spanning the ground around with my friend. Surprisingly, the place we found the key and its distance to the door was so near. It was as if someone had dropped it on their way out. My friend picked it up. She looked at me and then at the door. The presence of a door was no doubt very strange in the middle of a forest. It was bright blue in colour and shaped like an inverted 'U'. It had a weird design on it, and I must add it was like those typical ones we read of in Enid Blyton's books. I smiled at her and said, 'Let's open the door and check what's in there'. She hurriedly went up to the door. I followed her and stood at her left. By then, she was peering through the key hole. She looked up after a moment and said, "You should have a look!". I bent down and looked through the key hole. As I went near the key hole, I could smell the rusted door. Far ahead the door, I could see a faint light on the other side of the door. I looked up. My friend had bought the key near to the door. "It looks creepy", I said. The key had touched the key hole. "What if it leads to a scary jungle? ", I asked her. " Oh shut up!", said my friend. Her hand turned the key in the key hole and she gushed, "Oh Lord! I wish for a treasure full of goodies". My stomach twitched. “Maybe, it's a trap", I said and stood there staring at her as the key turned in her hands. "What if a lion pounces on you?", I asked her. Click. The key hole had made a faint noise. “Oh my god! I am so excited", she gushed again. I hope she has a life insurance cover.

Carolyn and I moved back from the huge blue door. The door opened inwards. As it swayed inside, I held Carolyn's hands tightly. We were greeted by a passage glistened with sunlight coming from the other end. "I don't know where this goes, but I am excited to find out", said Carolyn. I turned to look at her. I made sure I was still holding her hand by feeling her fingers around mine. She is out of her mind! Jungle only reminds me of monkeys, lions and elephants! I hope life insurance covers conked people. I stared silently at the sunlit passage. There were creeper plants with yellow flowers on the roof of the passage. It was a beautiful sight. "Oh come on! you silly! ", nudged Carolyn. ”Carol, I, I don't know", I said. "I'll ring up Kevin in case we sense danger and my cell phone always has a signal unlike yours" said Carolyn and giggled. I gave her a cold look and smiled. Kevin, her brother was ever ready to pick up his sister from any place. He's a superstar. The next breath I took was inside the passage. I was dragged inside by Carolyn. Still holding hands, she was walking a few steps ahead of me while I followed by her side closely. When we reached the other end I did not regret being pulled inside. I was glad. What lied ahead of us, at the far end of the passage was indeed worth all that effort of being dragging that far. It was lush greenery ahead of us.

I must admit I was surprised at the scene in front of me. To my left, was a metal fence which was about two times taller than us! Beyond the fence was lush greenery. In fact, the greenery was all around us. We were even standing on the grass. Ahead of me, I could see trees swaying in the cool breeze. We started walking slowly on a narrow muddy path, which was to the right of the trees. I had to tell Carolyn how beautiful this is. "You know, Carol", I started. "Shhh", she hushed me up. "Listen to that sound!", she said. Just then, a sound almost blew our ear drums. "Is that a crow?", I asked looking at her. "Look! It’s an ostrich!", she said pointing at the bird near the fence. I turned to the fence. "Wow", we exclaimed together. Wow! First time my senses are in sync with hers. We stood there admiring the beauty of the bird. Neither of us spoke for a while.

"Opening the door wasn't a bad idea after all", I said. We were now walking along the path. "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get", she said and smiled at me. She added, "From the movie". A neuron sparked in my brain and we both exclaimed looking at each other, "Forrest Gump!”

"We'll rest there for a while", said Carolyn pointing at a stone chair. "Yes! I am tired". I was eager to sit too because I felt relieved that she finally wanted to rest her curiosity for a few moments. The chair was on the right side of the path. It was enough for three lean people to sit. The stone chair was facing towards the path. We sat there and drew huge breaths taking in the fresh air as much as possible into our lungs.

Carolyn chuckled and said, "Gosh! Keerthi, look what's in front of us!” I was staring at the blue sky till then so I had to look down and follow my eyes to the direction of her hand. Gulp. A lion cub was in front of us. "Isn't it cute", remarked Carolyn and she bent down to take a look at the cub. Cute? Yeah right! Wait till its mother comes growling at you! I sat upright and drew both my legs on to the chair. Carolyn started to pat the cub's head. Just then, we saw the lioness walking 'majestically' at us. The lioness heard my thoughts! Carolyn stood up and my eyes widened as I sat there motionless. The cub turned back and walked to the lioness. The lioness and the cub were around three feet away from us. The lioness stared at us. "Don't worry, take a deep breath", Carolyn said. Carolyn added, "She does not seem angry". I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. One, in. Two, out. Three.

As I took my breaths, I heard a voice different from that of Carolyn's. Or Carolyn suddenly caught a cold. “Slowly, take in another breath". "Follow my counts, three in, four out", and I was following that voice commanding my breaths to her tone. "Slowly, move your feet, then your palms", I followed the instructions. "Now slowly open your eyes". I opened my eyes. I was now looking at a middle aged woman. Her hairs curled at her forehead. She had a big smile on her face and said, “I hope you enjoyed the hypnotics session, Keerthi". I was in the hypnotics session all this time!. How are you feeling now, Keerthi?", she asked. I smiled and said, "I enjoyed it madam, I would love to do it again here". "Sure, your next session is at tomorrow same time and same place", she said. "See you tomorrow, madam", I said. She smiled and nodded her head. I got up and walked out of the room. As I walked out, I was smiling. The people outside were staring at me. I beamed. Oh Carol! We’ll meet again!

Survival of the fittest: In Banking Parlance.

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Sun, 06 May 2012 17:55:00 +0000

Since the baby boom era, the traditional white collar workplace confined to a glass cubicle has expanded widely. In particular, the work life of a banker now encompasses greater geographic distances wherein the cultural and language diversity has to be considered. To survive in such an environment, to learn to get work done by ‘difficult to handle subordinates’, to convince our superiors, to live diplomatically with our peers; Charles Darwin’s theory of survival of the fittest comes into play. Simply put, for a professional to lead a happy life, he has to be Emotionally Intelligent, manage his stress factors well and must learn to sharpen his negotiation skills.

Daniel Goleman defines emotional intelligence as the capacity for recognizing our own feelings and those of others, for motivating ourselves, and for managing emotions well in us and in our relationships. The assessment of emotional intelligence is referred to as Emotional Quotient [EQ].

The core of Emotional Intelligence is self-awareness. Self-awareness is comprised of three competencies:

1) emotional self-awareness, where you are able to read and understand your emotions as well as recognise their impact on work performance and relationships;

2) accurate self-assessment, where you are able to give a realistic evaluation of your strengths and limitations;

3) Self-confidence, where you have a positive and strong sense of one’s self-worth.

The emotionally intelligent banker at a managerial position commits to co-creating an organization, encourages and motivates people, shares authority and accountability with others, builds effective teams, promotes the team rather than self.

A banker is compelled to work in a team scenario. The teams he works in keeps revolving, due to the transfers he has to acknowledge time and again. Here, EI comes into play. A banker must learn to apply EI concepts into his everyday work life which lubricates his team effectiveness with trust, lesser peer conflicts and ultimately it starts to trickle down into his own personal life making his family life more contented and blissful.

When each one of us begins to realise the power of Emotional Quotient, our organisation we work for morphs into an Emotionally Intelligent Organisation. As per the definition, The Emotionally Intelligent Organisation is an organisation with a high number of emotionally intelligent leaders, managers and critical professionals stands to be at the forefront of organisational practice and performance, and is more likely to be an employer of choice. Research also supports the view that competence in Emotional Intelligence accounts for over 90% of the difference between ineffective leaders and effective leadership performance.

Bankers all round the world talk to; make business with a lot of people in a day. It’s quite imperative that they would have experienced a conversation where they are asking for certain simple information and get a tangential reply. This can not only be frustrating, but also makes one feel that the lines of communication have broken down somewhere. Perhaps, the respondent might sound like a misbehaving child or a frustrated parent.

This is where Transactional Analysis (TA) - the study of human interactions can help. Developed by Eric Berne in 1950s it is a simplified approach to understanding why people act the way they do and what can be done to promote more effective human behaviour. Transactional Analysis is based on the philosophy that: people can change & that we all have a right to be in the world and be accepted. It is a very useful and fascinating framework for analysing the behaviour of both ourselves and that of other people. It is a tool which managers/employees can learn to use to increase their motivation, to stop passing the buck and to put their own organizational lives into perspective. When two or more people interact we have what is called a “transaction”.

Transactional analysis is a powerful tool which bankers can use to give themselves more options when conversing and more options when responding, thereby developing their skills of effective communication. Transactional Analysis has done much to help with the understanding of the communication transaction. Employing the concept of ego states gives us a method for checking our behaviour.

Today’s financial leaders are busy not only with their usual responsibilities – supervising employees and daily accounting work – but they are also often involved in critical strategic initiatives to help their organizations pull through the bad debts recovery. This can mean more meetings, more proposals and more stress. It is vital that managers take steps to combat stress, for both employees' sake and the business's.

When business demands and stress levels are high, often one of the first things to be eliminated is work breaks. Managers may feel that they’ll get more done by working through lunch, when the opposite is usually true. By failing to recharge, creativity and productivity can decline as the day progresses, leading to reduced performance and mistakes. Simple activities such as celebrating employee birthdays or the completion of key proposals are inexpensive ways to help to build camaraderie and boost morale. Such efforts to reduce stress for everyone can contribute to changes in a banker's own outlook.

Today’s competitive environment requires the banker to be able to negotiate in various, sometimes abstract situations – all at once. Negotiation is a key work and life skill. Negotiating is an activity that all bankers engage in to some degree, perhaps dozens of times every day. Negotiation can be defined as a discussion aimed at reaching an agreement. Negotiation can take place anywhere, formally of informally. Sometimes negotiation can take place abruptly, when one is least prepared, and be concluded in a matter of seconds.

It is definitely a skill worth learning as it can save the banking business lots of money. The best way to approach negotiation is to be wisely cooperative. That is, one has to look for areas of agreement that can benefit both sides. Of course, it is important to protect one’s own interests in such a way that one feel satisfied with the outcome of the negotiation.

Most negotiations a banker will participate in will involve day-to-day operations of his business and will focus more on building long-term relationships than on making a deal.

Indeed, negotiation is best viewed as a stepping stone to forming relationships - with others in their own bank, and with customers, suppliers and others - that have long-term consequences for the Bank.

Having bankers equipped with a high EQ, who are at ease with their stress management, who can negotiate well; as part of any banking business enhances bottom line profitability. It also makes way for better working relationships with customers, colleagues and supervisors. Internally, bank branches operate more effectively and working relationships are improved in the long run.

How to make SMART Goals!!

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Sun, 25 Mar 2012 17:33:00 +0000

For goals to be effective, the goals we set, should be

SPECIFIC: What exactly we want to achieve by setting a goal.

MEASURABLE: We should be able to track the progress of the goal in terms of how much revenue was earned?

ACHIEVABLE: People should know whether the objective is achievable given their strengths and weaknesses.

REALISTIC: The objective of the goal should be realistic and relevant to the business.

TIME-BOUND: Goals should have a time limit. We have to identify or find out by when to achieve the result.

Shifting and ever changing goals:

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Sun, 25 Mar 2012 13:28:00 +0000

With the passage of time, our goals and in turn our priorities change, not only in our personal life but also in our work life.

To elucidate more on that, I’d like to give a work life example. I come from an IT background. To manage our time effectively while executing our projects, we set out goals for a certain time. In essence, we follow a model, known as the Waterfall Model. In this model, we identify four phases in the lifetime of a project. In each phase, we mark out goals and set out time for each phase. Each phase could be seen as a short term goal, the project in its entirety a long term goal.

First usually was to get requirements from our clients and transfer the requirements into a written document. If the requirements were not understood then meetings would be held to clear the doubts and queries. The time taken usually will be around two or three months. Once the document was ready we moved onto chart out how the software has to be built – which was to transfer the client’s requirements into technical requirements. This could take weeks depending on the requirements of the client. Later, the task would be divided and assigned to different people. Time would be allotted to each person. After writing the code, one had to test the code to verify its purpose. This would take at most a week.

In each of the stage, our priorities and our goals towards the project change. With the first stage it meant understanding the client’s requirements. In the later stages it was all about building software which was error free in as small amount of time as possible. With the passage of time, while achieving these goals phase wise, we achieve our main goal of satisfying the client with software using our skills and expertise.

So, from this we can understand that:

- Once a goal is set, we need to constantly work on it, to achieve the results.

- From achieving the main goal of building the software, we achieved other goals simultaneously like building relationships with customer, gaining expertise/experience in the field.

- As and when one goal is achieved, the next goal presented itself by means of another task.

- With each goal, we had to rework out our priorities day in and day out.

So, as goals shift with the passage of time, we do actually achieve some goals.

As I end this, I would like to say that, setting of goals does not end with getting a good job. Once in a good job, one has to set goals for oneself to improve on the job – in order to get promotions and to achieve new heights in their work life.

Corruption

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 20:20:00 +0000

According to Oxford Dictionary, Corruption is defined as, “dishonest or fraudulent conduct by those in power, typically involving bribery”. Or simply put corruption involves the misuse of public office or authority in exchange for some type of private gain. It also indicates a misuse of authority as a result of considerations of personal gain, which need not necessarily be monetary.

Corruption happens when a person illegally takes a bribe to do a task which would otherwise be delayed indefinitely.

As per McMullan, an eminent corruption scholar, a public official is corrupt if he accepts money or money’s worth for doing something that he is under duty to do anyway, that he is under duty not to do, or to exercise a legitimate discretion for improper reasons.

Corruption can involve actions both within and outside a public official’s formal duties. In the case of the latter, the acceptance of “money or money’s worth” for the performance of these duties implies that the service would either be withheld in the absence of extra pay, or that the quality of service would deteriorate without extra pay. For instance, consider how we obtain our driving license. Citizens enrol in driving schools for two to three weeks. After this period, the person will have to pay a certain amount along with the fee to the person who manages the driving school. The driving school manager then acts as an intermediary with the RTO and we end up getting our driving license in a jiffy. If not for this extra money paid to the officials through the driving schools, our license takes a very long time to reach our doorstep which indicates a delay (implied as denial) of service. Such acts can range from such above small favours to payment of large sums of money (in the tune of crores) to government officials.

Corruption benefits a few while it creates potholes in the social and legal fabric of our country. Thereby it weakens our economy and state. Corruption undermines the rule of law and democracy; hence corruption is seen as a major evil. To combat corruption in India an institute to fight corruption, known as the Jan Lokpal was introduced. Below are some of the excerpts from the Jan Lokpal Bill 2011.

Jan Lokpal Bill 2011:
Jan Lokpal bill is a Bill to establish an independent authority to investigate offences under the Prevention of Corruption Act, 1988 to detect corruption by expeditious investigation and to prosecute offenders and to ensure timely redressal of certain types of public grievances and to provide protection to whistle-blowers.

Establishment of Lokpal: To be established by the Central Government through a notification who would have administrative, financial and functional independence from the government.

To acquire modern equipment necessary for proper investigation.

The Lokpal shall consist of a Chairperson and 10 other members and various officers under them at different levels to perform such functions as are assigned to them under this Act.

The Chairperson and the 10 members of the Lokpal shall be appointed by the President on the recommendation of a Selection Committee.

The bill, therefore, provides that the Lokpal shall have the authority to select its own staff and also ensure that such staffs are adequate to handle complaints of corruption, misconduct as well as grievances.

Powers of officers under Lokpal

The Investigating Officers of Lokpal authorized to investigate offences under the Prevention of Corruption Act 1988 shall have all the powers which are vested in a Police Officer while investigating offences under the Code of Criminal Procedure, as well as the powers conferred on the director of enforcement under the Foreign Exchange Management Act, 1999 as well as under the Prevention of Money Laundering Act, 2002.

The members of Lokpal or any officer under the Lokpal while exercising any powers under the Act shall have the powers of a civil court trying a suit under the Code of Civil Procedure, 1908

To initiate suo moto appropriate action under this Act on receipt of any information from any source about any corruption.

The powers of investigation and prosecution of public officials for corruption and disciplinary action for corruption against government officials are sought to be brought under an independent Lokpal authority – questioning the judicial system

The integrity of the authority and the anti‐corruption/vigilance machinery under its control is sought to be achieved by mandating transparency in its functioning and public participation, wherever possible.

An effective, independent and empowered Lokpal institution is a need for which the country cannot wait any longer. This Bill seeks to achieve this objective.

Excerpts from the Proceedings of Lokpal:
A complaint by any person may be made in the form of a First Information Report as provided under the Code of Criminal Procedure which will not require any payment of fee or affidavit and could be sent to any office of the Lokpal and shall not be rejected merely on the basis of motive or intention of the complainant.

Every investigating officer shall endeavour to complete the investigation of an offence within a period of 6 months but when necessary he may obtain extension of time from a Bench of the Lokpal. In any case the period of investigation shall not extend 18 months.

The investigations in complaints by whistle-blowers facing physical or professional victimization shall be fast tracked and completed within three months of receipt of the same.

Lokpal shall not need any administrative or financial sanction from any government agency to incur expenditure.

Grievance Redressal:
Each public authority shall designate an official called Public Grievance Redressal Officer in each station where the public authority has an office, to which a complaint could be made for any violation of the citizens’ charter.

The basis of Jan Lokpal bill is that the current anti-corruption agencies have structural deficiencies because of which they are incapable of doing any honest investigations. So an ‘independent and empowered Lokpal institution’ was thought to be a solution. In this view, Shanti Bhushan, a former Law Minister of India proposed that the current Parliamentary system has to be changed to eliminate corruption.

Corruption cannot be cured by a systemic change. The current Parliamentary system which has deep roots like that of a Banyan tree was designed by an eminent luminary, Dr B R Ambedkar. Government, according to him, has to perform the role of a welfare agency. It has to ensure rapid progress and just distribution of the fruits of that progress. The anti-corruption bill should be seen as to remove corruption and not change the system as a whole. Fingers should be pointed at people in charge of looking after anti-corruption issues rather than at the credibility of our Parliament. Rightly Ambedkar said, ‘we need efficient people, people who will fight tooth and nail for our interest; people who can think, lead and act; people with principles and character. Such people should be sent to the legislatures. We must send such people to Legislatures who will be slaves to none but remain free to their conscience and get our grievances redressed’. People should learn to be sincere in their outlook. We people, in general at the grass root level should refrain from giving bribes while getting our job done. We should learn and yearn to get our jobs done in a rightful and constitutional manner. The society should be educated and enlightened against such acts. As a society becomes more enlightened, it realises that it is responsible not to conserve and transmit the whole of its achievement, but only such as makes a better future society [B R Ambedkar].

Mr Shanti Bhushan said anybody who would oppose the Bill, would be seen as a person who was not interested in removing corruption from the country. The fight for anti-corruption is indeed an eye-opener in the light of many corruption activities in our country. In my opinion I feel that corruption should be definitely removed but not the parliamentary encompassing our social lives. India has deep prejudices on caste system. Granting suo moto powers to the Jan Lokpal Bill would ultimately arrest the rights of the downtrodden. There can be false allegations made on caste in case the suo moto power is granted to this institution.

Corruption is a cross-systemic, cross-temporal and cross-cultural phenomenon. It can exist in any place, at any time, and under any form of government. Corruption happens when a public officer deviates from the norms, rules and duties. Corruption can only be combat by having intellectual and able personnel in anti-corruption agencies. In fact Robert Klitgaard, the world’s leading expert on corruption argues that officials are most corrupt where they have wide discretion in their actions, little accountability, and considerable monopoly power. In short, Corruption = Monopoly + Discretion –Accountability.

Let’s face it. Next time we go to a temple, let us refrain from slipping a fifty rupee note to the Pujari’s hands. Let’s be bold enough to be pure in the daily conduct of our lives and thereby kindle our anti-corruption movement.

The Tirupathi Odyssey

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 17:48:00 +0000

After two years me and my family finally realised our long long dream. The dream to go to Tirupathi, to seek the Lord's blessings.

Since this was the first time my family was travelling to Tirupathi, we decided to travel by taking a bus from the Karnataka State Travel Development Corporation, instead of booking a private transport. I must say, I was overwhelmed by the experience, both travelling and the divine sight at Tirupathi.

We left on one cold november night to Tirupathi. Our bus was a mini bus with two columns of seats. Each row had two seats in both the columns. Our travel companions belonged to a wide range of age groups. I vividly remember twins jumping and screaming in excitement in the bus. They seemed to be around five or six year olds. The adults on the other hand were so ecstatic that some people continued to talk even after eleven o clock in the night.

As the bus engine revved up, I felt so excited. The lights inside the bus were switched off. I was seated on the left side of the bus next to the window. My mother was seated next to me. My father was seated exactly parallel to us in the other column. I pushed the window curtains aside and heaved a huge sigh.

As the bus moved, I felt as if I was sliding down from a mountain. The ride was so smooth that I didn't want to miss any moment and I was so reluctant to sleep even though my eye lids were trying to forcefully close. We went past through Byappanahalli. We all saw the famed Namma Metro.... All of our co-passengers were equally excited with the same.

After a while, I had to succumb to my body, and I fell asleep amidst the occasional gossip among my fellow passengers.

I felt the bus jerk and I was woken up from my deep slumber. The streets in which our bus was moving was halogen colored, thanks to the halogen street lights. I squinted my eyes and tried to read the shop boards as we moved on. My heart pumped faster. The words on each of the shops read Tirupathi. I nudged my mother to wake up. I could see my father all awake. He signalled me that we were nearing our long-awaited destination. After a few minutes, the bus stopped near a lodge which looked like a multi-storeyed complex. The travel guide explained that we had to go refresh ourselves in the room which would be allotted to us and to return back to the bus by 4:30 am sharp. He repeated it twice to us in Kannada followed by Hindi and English. Still half-asleep I listened carefully in all the languages to make sure I heard the time to get back to the bus was indeed 4:30 am.

We got back sharp at 4:30 am back to the same spot where the bus was parked. We all were now clad in traditional dresses. The ladies in Salwar / saree and the gentlemen in kurta or the south-indian typical Panchey. The dress code is a strict rule here. We all got into the bus and kick-started our piligrimage. Our first temple of the day was Padmanabha Lakshmi Temple. This temple is situated at the base of a mountain on top of which is the Divine Tirupathi. Shivering we got down from the bus, leaving our footwear and mobiles back in the bus. I left my socks on and walked on into the temple. As I walked I could see the pujaris getting ready for the day ahead. They were all busy putting the sacred mark in vermillion onto their foreheads. As I neared an idol, a fresh stream of water was gushing through just near the entrance of the cave where the idol is kept. My socks absorbed the cold water which sent a cold shiver through my feet to the rest of my body. I folded my hands and bowed down to the goddess. We sat on the floor of the temple for a while, collected our prasadams and left for Tirumalai Tiruapthi.

All who had to give offerings / mudi ( facial hair is offered to express gratitude) in Kannada to the Lord set off in a jeep to the mountain and the rest took the bus. We were strictly told not to carry mobiles because of the strict security checks on the mountain top which the travel guide felt would delay our travel further. We had to take a local bus to Tirumalai Tirupathi as KSTDC buses are not allowed inside. As we started our trip, we could see the naama of the Lord Tirupathi glitter brightly from far. The bus revolved round and round the mountain making all of us giddy and sleepy. We reached the top of the mountain in 2 and a half hours. We were all strictly told not to wander off and leave our footwear together in a lodge nearby the temple. We then marched off with our travel guide to the temple. There are three kinds of entries to the temple. The normal entry, the 300 Rs entry and the VIP entry. We took the 300 Rs entry and trodded through the temple abuzz with a lot of people. Reaching the place where the darshanam/ divine sight of the Lord happens is a true odyssey. The piligrims have to pass through a narrow pathway in two crooked lines. The pathway curves in all possible angles. After pushing through a crowd of people, with toddlers crying uncontrollably, we near a stairs. Carefully climbing each step, again we need to pass through a mass of people. We cross a bridge and finally reach the inside of the temple, where the 300 Rs entry people get merged with the normal entry people. The walls of the temple were black and were inscribed in Telugu and some walls in Tamil. Feeling proud of my national heritage, I walked on as people all around me keep chanting, 'Govindaa Goo Vinda ' loudly. After a hour and a half, I near the place where the deity is placed guarded heavily by ploicemen. The ones getting the VIP entry pass are dragged directly to this place. The whole place is engraved in gold ( as I heard from my parents ) I folded my hands tightly and pushed throught the crowd, I spotted an idol to my left. I took in a deep breath. The metal railings around me turned to the left. As I inched forwards I saw a dark passage at the end of which was the grand deity. Before my eyes could register what was in front of me, a lady dragged me out of the temple. Each and everyone was dragged out of the temple in the same way.

I was so glad after being pulled out of the temple. I had some prasadam and offered my gratitude to the great Lord.

It was a great feeling walking through the temple corridors. As one walks, a sense of peace invades through us. I bet everyone who treaded the temple corridors felt the same way. It's great ordeal to reach the temple taking literally an hour but the feeling and the satisfaction one gets is worth it. Worth every moment, every step in the temple.

Part and Parcel

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 20:52:00 +0000

Staring into the mirror separated by a few inches by it, I struggled to apply my blue eye-liner to my eyelid. It was my first time I had ever tried such a product. I brushed the blunt tip of the eye liner pencil which reminded me of wax crayons onto my eyelid. A blue sparkling trail was left over by a swipe. I brushed one more line. More sparkling blue trails. I opened my eyelid. ( Till then, I had closed one).
The blue eye lines seemed to spread over my eyelids. I repeated the same to the other eyelid, my right eyelid. I moved backwards and flipped my eyelids. I knew I had applied a blue color to my eyelids, so to my eyes and brain's judgement it was looking good. Otherwise, my eyelids looked as if I hadn't slept for a week.
I really wish I had bigger eye-balls, so that I would have had bigger eye-lids and more space to apply these eye-liners. I think, I have smaller ones which makes me get small space to apply the waxy like substance onto it. Little bit of regret goes there. Because, I saw a girl in a bus, who had neatly applied black eye-liner onto the edge of the eye-lids. I need special classes on how to apply eye-liners. I thought they were meant for the entire eye-lids, just like in those freaky fashion shows.
I regret my small eyes. What else? Diplomatically, I'd say there is nothing to regret in my life. But, there is regret. yep. Its some kind of a refreshner to think of it, after a long day. I'm not being a pessimist but there is a streak of optimism here. Before I divulge into any, a brief intro on me. I am a professional, that's the way the media describes people of our qualifications and of our startup careers. OK. I am a professional alright! We get a glossy degree card after completing 4 gruelling years of studies. I was of the impression that a degree card is for only keepsake and for show-off sake (if you belong to the distinction-studds). Actually, you also get 'The Part and Parcel' of being a professional. There are varieties to it. I'll illustrate on one such part.
After 4 years of academic lullaby-led life, comes an offer from the company, the one got through campus recruitments. No regrets here. I got in, enter the actual office climate after a few months of corporate training. I saw people looking up from their cubicles to spot us - the jerks, I mean, the freshers. Better put, the cute freshers.
I feel its a curse on you when you're good to look at, or beautiful. The attraction we get is suddenly so depressing at times. It turns onto you like a tsunami swallowing you from no-where and every-where. All the beautiful are cursed. Cursed enough to curse the badness arising from lust. Cursed enough to question our existence. Cursed enough to question the very need for it. I wish in humans it worked the same way as in peacocks. The peacocks try so hard with their enormous feathers to impress the not-at-all-should-be-beautiful-peahens. I wish we all were ugly. Ugly so that no-one would care for our presence, but that defies Charles Darwin's theory of existence.
The world is a mysterious place. I better put it as a part and parcel of our lives as a professional and as a carrier of our future generations to come.

Cinderella's Diaries

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Fri, 24 Jun 2011 19:31:00 +0000

Saturday, June 12, 2010
I somehow couldn't stop thinking about Zayn. I tried hard to shut him out from my mind, but my mind kept mumbling Zayn. Zayn. Zayn.... Why is this life so hard? I opened my eyes. Ace! Gilbert had smashed the tennis ball across. Watching Gibbi from the first floor was so soothing to my eyes and my brain seemed to concentrate on Gibbi's movements on the tennis court next to our home. The court is attached to our home and has a transparent roofing, through which I could gaze at all the tennis matches my brothers play, which always makes me jealous, my knee to be blamed, or still better my callousness to fall down from my foyer breaking my knee cap which had to be replaced, which means that I am now standing on an artificial knee cap. A knee cap which needs monthly checkup by Dr Ed, which led me to meeting his swashbuckling younger brother and the cutest guy I had ever met, Kenneth. I called him Ken. I still call him Ken. Ken. Kenny. Kenneth Smith. The guy with the cutest smile. Bow Bow! Bow Bow! Rocky's barks distracted me. I found him nibbling my leg. Rocky, my doggie, who apparently never grew, being an electronic doggie, he never grew out of his age. Kevin had designed Rocky's software so that Rocky responds only to my voice. Kivi is smart and undeniably good-looking for his age. After I learnt Kivi designed this, I was so eager to get my hands on the software, to know how it recognises my voice, which is my assignment, from the past two months- to find out the source and change it to Scott's voice. Scott is Kivi's youngest son, who's inherited his dad's smartness. Its been hard to concentrate with all this mess in my life. I hate Zayn.

Happy Anniversary - Cotton ( Second ) Anniversary !!!

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 09:53:00 +0000

June marks the second anniversary of Kris Talkies!!
Happy Birthday Kris Talkies and also happy to announce that Kris Talkies has touched 1000 hits!!

Tryst with divinity - Chapter 5

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Sat, 26 Feb 2011 09:37:00 +0000

Oh God! Please help me in getting an output. Please. Please. Please. I beg you. I have no idea if you know Java, but please in all your mightiness please help this girl. And I want Zayn. I really don't know where I am heading with this one. But still, I want Zayn. Lets see what happens. I open my eyes and hop out of my bed to get dressed. Thirty minutes later I am seated in my bus in my usual seat, with my eyelids getting attracted to each other like velcro.
       Today being thursday I am somehow all charged up as soon as I near my cubicle painted in yellow. The sound of my machine booting up excites all my nerves. Oh Yeah! I do want to finish this program once and for all. You are great or Am I great. Yes dear! I am ! You behave just as I say! Man's creations huh.
        11:30 PM. After rejecting multiple dates with my colleagues for breakfast, my module seems going somewhere finally. Am faced with a Null Pointer Exception, to which my team mate feels something has no value and that means you are going in the right direction. Right direction? hah!!! Somehow I take pride in my efforts considering his last words. In the right direction. Way to go girl!
       2:30PM. Post lunch dizzy headed, I launch myself into the chair. With only 5 hours to leave for the day, I mumble at my computer, Oh dear, Please work!!! and start thinking de bugging my source of error.
       Somewhere around 3:30 PM I realize my module worked. It worked! I am a picture of disbelief.
I run my program to confirm it and it did work. Quickly I start testing for different screnarios.
      7:00 PM and I decide to leave. It was a tiring day but finally my computer listened. It worked. I just cannot belive my program actually worked. I swear I don't know what was the technology being used. Just keyed in what came to my mind, it worked. Ofcourse, I have bugged many people in the process, including my manager.  I walk out inhaling the fresh September air into my lungs. Ahh my knees are aching. My back needs a massage. I board my bus and close my eyes and listen to the voices outside. The bus's door slams shut. Maybe it was the driver. I felt the lights being turned off. I open my eyes and the vehicle revs up to leave office, to go home. I wanna go home. I wanna go home. I want to go home now. Zayn didn't turn up today also. Fine. Atleast I can doze off without my senses getting disturbed by his presence. I look at my office one last time, bidding a silent goodbye. We people spend almost our entire lives here, its no surprise we do get attached emotionally to some people. Instead of dismissing such attitudes in people, we can tag our workplaces as centres of civilization. A hub of civilization.
Thinking of the Indus valley civilization History lesson my nephew Ryan was studying the other day, I spot a huge building being built by my company. It has now over close to 7 floors. I hope they build bigger relaxation rooms. And more relaxation rooms and in equal number for men, women. And maybe they can consider having couples only relaxation rooms. You know it can be helpful for married people who get in their kids to the workplace and also for, umm yeah some things are better left unsaid.
As I look out, I spot Kevin's car Corolla, you know this may sound gibberish, still going ahead if ever my love for cars can be expressed, I think one of my daughter is gonna be named Octavia , the other(if there is) Corolla Altis. If there is another one by chance then I would go for Leela ( am enthralled by its grandeur ).
   My head slowly starts diverting to the only reason it pulls itself together every cold morning. Zayn. I must be mad. No, its normal. I hope I am normal. Oh Yes girl! You are normal! I close my eyes and try to sleep in the darkness of the bus. I keep wondering why I feel so uncomfortable around Zayn. My mind is fast to reply. Zayn is a tiger. Nah. Zayn is a Bengal Tiger. There is some sense of pride for him at the same time all nervous about his presence, so nervous maybe my body works extra hard in pumping all the endomorphines and dopamines into my blood vessels. Hmm.. If Zayn is a Bengal Tiger then my manager? Again my mind is quick to reply. Oh they are Yetis. Yetis are scary looking. Nah. I think my Delivery Manager is an Yeti. Managers are a cross breed between Yeti and Tiger. In some cases they can be good looking but as scary as a Yeti when it comes to getting work extracted from us. Project Leads can be Tigers. Maybe people like me, who are at the lowest form of life at office can be related to puppies, who often are so confused.

Right to Speech !!!

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Sat, 26 Feb 2011 08:24:00 +0000

Wiki Leaks - Synonymous with free speech? Comment...

India @ 61 - Excerpts from The Hindu

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Sat, 19 Feb 2011 06:09:00 +0000

Jinhe naaz hain hind per vo kahan hain? - Sahir Ludhianvi

On January 8, 2011 Gokul Singh Gond, of Druminia village, Madhya Pradesh, places his dead daughter Soghavati on the back of his bicycle and pedals 10km to the nearest district hospital for an autopsy. On the same day, cricketer Gautam Gambhir was auctioned for 2.1 million dollars for the fourth edition of IPL, the highest amount of money offered for the services of a cricketer in the history of the game. If there are two images that would capture the ides of India in the 62nd year of its Republic, they are these. One one hand, India is poised to send its business classes to take over the world when, on the other, it condemns vast sections of its citizens to subhuman existence.

The signature of India at 61 is one of unbridgeable divide, between billion-dollar homes and millions living in slums.

The angst about the staging of the Commonwealth Games is not seen when millions of tons of grains rot in granaries in a nation where more than 75 percent of the population live under Rs 20 a day. The heart that swells up with pride when the rupee got a symbol or when "Slumdog Millionaire" wins an Oscar goes cold when it actually sees a person from the slum.

No Spirit :
In the Republic, Plato told us that the soul consists of three parts, logos ( reason ), thymos(spirit) and eros ( appetite ) and for justice to be attained, all the three have to be in proportion. But the idea of India in circa 2011 is overrun by reason and appetite. It does not have thymos. The spirit has gone out of it. There is nothing in the imagination of the youth that has got any semblance of idealism. That is why it falls in love with "3 Idiots", the anthem of our times. Here the protagonist mounts a scathing criticism of our educational system, which is nothing but a totalitarian factory for producing engineers and doctors; but his idealistic disassociation from the system is ultimately rewarded not only with the girl, but also multi- million dollars worth of patents.

The message is loud and clear, especially to the vast dreadery hinterland where the Gokul Singh Gonds live: you might live the life of a worm in a democratic India, but you better be patriotic and sing the national anthem. This idea of India with a gun to your head is also patrirachal. The vulgar miogynist venom spewed on Arundhati Roy shows the depravity of the ide in which patriarchy and jingoism coagulate into a toxic mix. More than her 'anti-national' views, it is her feminity that transforms even liberal commentators into a khaap panchayat.

Inequities
India spends more on Christmas than Diwali and that malls in Delhi heralded in a white Christmas last year with snow, elves, reindeers, amd trees studded with 4,00,000 Swarovski crystals! But real India will take another half a century to see Santa. Till then, the Chamars and Madigas will continue to be lynched alive for wearing sandals, or ride a scooter. We are still in denial that something like catse or heinous opression based on it exists. While the Indian state would do anything to question the equation of casteism with racism in international fora, the 'forward' castes among the generation text are willing to immolate themselves if there is a semblance to threat to the order decreed by Manu.

The idea of India, as it is put into practice, is built on the segregation and humiliation of large sections of its citizens on the basis of caste and color ( even if it recils in injured innocence when the same treatment is meted out in the form of New Zealand television anchors and Australian police officers ). That is why we expend reams of paper and thousands of sound bytes on the Radia affair without thinking it important to comment about Ms Radia's jocular allusion to Mr. Raja's color.

After 61 years of the Republic, can we name one dalit icon, in the domain of popular culture, business and the private sector that has captured the imagination of India? The fact we cannot shows the horrendous record of the idea of India. But we can always comfort ourselves saying that it could be that there isn't anybody who is talented enough from among a dalit population of nearly 18 crores, large enough to constitute the sixth largest country in the world! And meanwhile we always have Karan Johar's idea of India to fall back on, the India that lives in New York and London and populated by the Khannas and Kapoors, and the Sharmas and Pandeys.

A few months ago, Beebi Lumada, an Indian ‘housemaid', was stranded at Muscat airport, having lost her passport. After five days at the airport, she turns delusional and dies of shock. Even when India plans to send a man to the moon, it could not send a man from its own embassy to help a poor woman in distress. The idea of India in the present is one which curiously does not include most Indians. It is the idea of India without the Gokul Singh Gonds and the Beebi Lumadas.

Perhaps its greatest failure is to understand why people like Binayak Sen exist and why he has been incarcerated: jinhe naaz hain hind par vo kahan hain?

Cinderella tells a story. . . . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Sun, 13 Feb 2011 08:01:00 +0000

Stepping into a college has a queer effect on me. The effect grows stronger if I'm into a college which is centuries old. Such was the effect when I first stepped into St Joseph's college. Kevin forced me to write for entrance exams of Government jobs. So, this sunday was my first such attempt.
My room was in the third floor. I turned right and walked straight ahead to find my room. I stepped in
and looked at the numbers written on the desks. A lady stopped me and enquired my number. I looked at my admit card card and showed her the number. She said walk to the last table. I just did what she said.
I sat on the last bench. A guy was sitting in the far end of the classroom, while I was sitting in the last bench of the middle row. I took out my stationary stuff and was acclimatising to the classroom. My eyes fell on the desk which was just in front of me. What I saw, creeped me out. There was an engraving onto the desk. An engraving, of five letters, dug into the flesh of the desk made my heart beat faster than ever. SMITH sent a chill down my entire body. I very well could remember Kenneth Smith, my college mate telling me that he studied in this college, but the possible fact that me sitting right behind where he sat roughly six years back chilled my whole body.
I had a graphic vision right in front of me. The empty classroom was now filled with young 15 years and odd. I could see Kenneth engraving on his desk with his compass while listening to a boy of his age sitting next to him. The teacher, a man in his late forties demands for attention and bangs the duster onto the desk. Kenneth looks up suddenly peering from his spectacles. ........ The vision blurs. Another vision begins.... A man of around early thirties, standing on the raised platform is calling out the names of the students. A girl raises her hand in acknowldegement to which Kenneth glances at her. My lips curve into a smile........ Again the vision blurs and changes into a different vision. Now, a math class seems to be going on. This I can guess by the formulas written on the board. The class is quiet. All the students are busy solving the problems written on the board. My eyes are content on watching Kenneth alone. Kenneth seems to have solved a problem and his peers are peeking into his notebook. I feel a huge sense of pride at him..... The whole scene blurs.
I see a girl of my age nearing the desk which had brought so many visions and sat there. Apparently it was her seat where her rollnumber was written in white chalk. Her purple dupatta fell on the five letters. I felt a strong urge to push her away. I resisted. I looked down onto my desk and force myself to concentrate on the reason I was in the room. A loud sound forced me to look to my left. Large windows of perhaps 5 feet tall which looked out into the playground was there. I looked out blanky from my seat and thinking Kenneth might have looked out of it, hopefully blankly just as I was today.
I was dumbfounded and stunned, I forced myself to concentrate on the 3 hour something exam. After the exam I got out of the building as soon as I could. Kevin's dark brown hair shone in the afternoon as much as to help my blue eyes spot my 6 foot 4 inch tall brother. Kevin smiled and held my palm and we walked out and away from the college.
Kevin got into the back seat of Corolla Altis. I got in next to him. I slammed the car door shut. The driver revved up the engine and off we left. On the way, I could feel Kenneth whispering into my ears - 'On the first day of the college, I found myself drinking a glass of wine in a bar'. I wondered where? He whispered back, 'A few metres away from my college'. I spot Koshy's bar and restaurant. A voice in my head says, maybe this was the bar. I managed to get a fleeting glance as our driver sped away.

Tale of Cinderella retold

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Sun, 07 Nov 2010 02:24:00 +0000

It's those days when you yearn for Satan to kidnap and behead you and yet nothing. Nothing happens. Instead, I'm safely perched on a chair which swivels in one full circle. My left hand is in between my incisors. My right hand is on the electronic mouse. My face looks like as if I have just seen my puppy run over by a truck. The system I am sitting in front of has absolutely no sympathy over my condition. It incessantly keeps on beeping the same error over and over again. I need to complete my module by Wednesday and it's already half past six in the evening. Monday evenings are terribly boring ( and depressing, especially today ). I have to leave by seven if I have to keep my sanity level in check.

With only thirty minutes to spare, I strut across to my manager's cubicle who is merrily chatting with a fellow manager whom I heard recently joined our company recently. It took me six months to realize that its okay to disturb my manager for a life critical advice. Just as I near him, he recognizes my arrival and the other manager leaves. I ask my doubt, to which he supplies a generous reply seasoned with his charming smile. His eyes look so warm and welcoming. They somehow tease my facial muscles into a smile. That's the charm my manager spreads. How much I ever grumble about him, the minute I see him smiling at me, I take back all my words. By the time I return back to my seat, it's seven. I pack my bag, put on my jacket. I swing my bag on my shoulders, lock my system, turn off the screen and walk out of my floor with a heavy heart. I always take the stairs down to the ground floor from third floor. I can opt for the elevator, but I just can't bear the thought of getting stuck in all alone.

One last swipe of my electronic ID card at the ground floor and I am done for the day. I walk to the outside of my campus where a minibus enough to hold around 15 people waits. I occupy a seat at the right side of the bus, next to the window and push the window open. September's cool night breeze teases the hair off my face. I take a deep breath and just stare out into the open.

Thoughts of my unfinished work start trickling into my head. I am feeling utter useless at the moment. I have a feeling, that I might be thrown out of the project, if I do not deliver on time. No kiddo, you've solved a client's problem and even successfully completed a mini project. Your manager might just scowl at you. Ha Ha Ha ..... Very funny. My manager. Manager. Hmmm. Once upon a time, I kind of admired him. When I started working under him, the feelings of admiration just evaporated into thin air. I was under the impression that managers are always meant to have red eyes like a demon and keep yelling all the time, hitherto I met mine. It was quite filmy how I met mine. When I stepped into my project, my manager was on-site giving Knowledge Transition sessions to the offshore people. My team lead roped me into those sessions. I used to sit quietly listening to the voice coming from a distant place. At one of the sessions, I tried imagining the person from his voice. I imagined a man in his early thirties with a receding hair line and a paunch. I must say, I am a bad judge because when I actually saw my manager, my jaws dropped. Perhaps, I can vote him as the Most FIT Boss on my floor. The most agile manager. Maybe it's also because of the work nature that keeps him on his heels all the time.

Being a newbie, I have no option but to look up at my immediate manager for advice and inspiration ( strongly on work related matters only. For the rest of the topics, the chunk of people I keep bumping into help a great deal) and I am not disappointed at this concern. General George S. Patton once said, "Never tell people how to do things. Tell them what to do and they will surprise you with their ingenuity". My manager just does this. I don't know about the surprise part though. He's quite inspirational. Not that he's the 'Sri Sri Ravi Shankar' of my team, but at the end of a day, I feel confident about a better tomorrow. I am compelled to add that I am very sure he can even sell ice to an Eskimo. I can confidently bet on that.

After a two hour bus drive, the bus drops me at a point which is some five kilometers away from my home. I find Kevin, my brother waiting for me to pick me up. Kevin's face breaks into a smile as soon as I meet his eyes. I just feel like cuddling into his arms.

Kevin helps me into the back seat of our Corolla Altis. I had a knee cap adjustment surgery recently. I still need help getting into a vehicle. At office, I somehow manage. But when Kevin is around, I let him help me. Kevin gets into the car next to me. The driver gets the cue from Kevin to move. It takes roughly twenty minutes to reach home. Going home sounds like descending from Mount Everest. Every turn my car takes, I feel a rush of goodness enveloping me.

Kevin looks at me fondly and asks, "So how was your day, Carol?". His Grey eyes twinkles. However old he gets every year, he never loses his chocolaty looks. "Hmmm.. fine", I reply with a weak smile . Kevin smiles back and pulls me near him with his strong arms. He pushes a strand of hair from my face and whispers into my ear, "Every thing's gonna be fine, sweetheart" .

The driver pulls over in front of our home. My pink colored Gucci watch yells 9:30 PM at me. I push the car door open to find myself standing in front of our huge ivory colored home. My home is an ancestral home. It was passed on from generations together where each room has its own story to tell.

Kevin opens the gate for me. I walk in, climb the five stairs to the entrance of my home. As I near the door, Gilbert, my eldest brother waits at the door held open for me. Gilbert picks me up into his arms. I hug him tightly with my arms. Kevin comes up from behind and manages to peck me on my cheek. Gilbert and Kevin are blessed with an amazing talent to figure out what's going on in my head. After all, they both have raised me from the time I was a ten year old. My parents died in separate accidents abroad. Dad died in a plane crash in Melbourne. Mum died a week later in a car accident while going to work in Adelaide. It was hard for all of us. Especially me. But I had Gilbert and Kevin who are like second parents to me.

Our foyer has a stairs which leads to another floor. Gilbert carries me to my room in the first floor. I shut my eyes tightly. As Gilbert carries me to my room, I can hear Kevin chatting with Sophie, his wife. Gilbert gently lays me on my bed. Gilbert tells me to change into my night dress and moves out of my room. I change into my night dress and then sit on my bed, which is so neatly laid out. It's appearance pulls me towards it. As I am retiring to my bed, Kevin comes in with a plate of food. He feeds me roti. Gilbert comes in by the time I finish having food with water. I sip in the water. Kevin and Gilbert each kiss me Good Night on my forehead and walk out of the room, turning off the lights and pulling the door close behind them.

I snugly hide inside my blanket. My eyelids force shut by themselves. This day is finally over. God, hope tomorrow turns out fine

-----------------------------------------------------------

I zoom past from the bathroom to my room, picking up my ironed dress from the iron table on the way. Stephanie, Gilbert's wife had ironed me a white corduroy and a lavender full arm formal shirt. Few minutes later, I am spraying Yardley Lace perfume all over my dress.

Half past six in the evening, a huge white bus picks me up in the morning. My stop is the first stop and I get to choose which ever seat I desire. I always take the three seater to the right of the bus, next to the window. It's usually the fifth or the sixth seat in the right column of the bus.

Most of the days I dive into a deep sleep, only to get up when the bus nears our company, Neo Technologies Private Ltd, an IT company located in Whitefield, which is in the outskirts of Bangalore city. The company bus has eight to nine pickups in the city, after which it zooms off non-stop to the company. Nothing really interesting happens until the seventh stop, where a cute guy boards the bus. The cutest guy of my bus. Zayn has this amazingly charming smile. We got introduced to each other a few months ago. We work for different clients in different buildings but in the same campus. Our eyes meet and we smile at each other. He sits next to me with only my fat bag separating us. His nicely shaved cheek shines in the morning sunlight. He greets me saying, 'Good Morning' . I reply back saying, 'Good Morning'. He quickly adds, 'Sweet Dreams', reminding me that he has to catch a shut-eye. I smile back saying, 'Sweet Dreams'. I look away, out of the window at the roads. Bangalore roads are much peaceful in the early morning. I admire the huge advertisement boards, I feel like a kid looking up at balloons swaying against the wind. After a few minutes when I turn back at Zayn, he is fast asleep.

A hour and a half later, the bus pulls over in front of our company gate. I bid a good bye to Zayn. I walk straight ahead while he takes a right from the gate. As I walk ahead, I turn back and blow a kiss at him.

There are five buildings in our campus and each one of them has an access system which when swiped with our electronic ID card records the day's attendance. My building has two glass door entrances and one exit at the other end. All the buildings are blessed with shiny and smooth floors. I detest these floors. ( I am prone to skidding and falling to the ground, which thankfully hasn't happened yet here). As one enters my building, it looks like a huge rectangle. Some twenty lights are suspended from the roof of the building. It's been nine months since I started out my career as a fresher here and I have still not seen them illuminated (That's maybe because I don't stay there beyond seven in the evening) . To the left of the building is two elevators. To the right hangs four clocks, each of them ticking off at Bangalore, Canada, Belgium and Switzerland timezones. There are three floors in my building and each floor has two wings left wing and right wing, each housing around fifty employees. There are two coffee vending machines in each floor which provides coffee, milk, lemon tea and hot water to all the employees. Employees can relax in relaxation rooms. The first floor and second floor has one each for the men and one at the ground floor for women (I reckon we have only one because of our thin population. Blame it on female infanticide and child marriage. ) Two spiral stairs guard the either ends of the building. I have taken a liking to the stairs which is at the far end of the building, partly due to it being near to my room in the right wing, third floor.

By the time, I climb three floors I look visibly exhausted and my legs are wobbly. I keep myself to the left of the corridor. Walking to the right of the corridor sends a chill down my spine and I get a weird feeling that I might trip and fall over the railing onto the ground. I have no desire to die at this place. I wish to die in my ripe old age with all my loved ones around me. Not here. Never.

I near the entrance of my room where I work. I lift my access card and swipe it. I wear my access card around neck. I feel that's the safest way to carry it. Some people hang it to their belt. Considering that I don't repeat a dress in the same week and that my neck is always attached to my body, I prefer hanging it with a blue tag around my neck. The access system beeps with a fluorescent light and the door opens a little. I push the door open. The floor looks deserted with one or two people. The floor is divided into cubicles. Each cubicle is a bright yellow ( I heard, that is to motivate us to work) square with two openings. Each cubicle has four occupants, one at each corner of the cubicle. My cubicle is at the far end of the room. As I walk to it, I notice that my team mate has already arrived. The rest of my team mates turn up at around 11:30 AM since my team follows the European timezone and their calendar of holidays. I do not get holidays on our festivals. I'll be forced to report work, but those days are an entirely different story. I have a special permit to work in the normal shift from 8:00 AM to 5:00 PM, as there is no proper transport to my place as of yet. I never leave at 5:00 PM. My previous team lead forced me to stay till 7:00 PM for six months that now I'm used to leave at 7:00 PM.

My LCD screen, keyboard and mouse sits on the yellow desk, while my CPU rests on the floor. While I bend down to turn on my CPU, I get a fleeting glance of my team mate who is sitting in a cubicle adjacent to me busy checking his mails, facing away from me. I notice his black hair is oily. Very oily. Reminds me of J K Rowling's description of Severus Snape's oily hair in Harry Potter. Snape's hair is so oily that it drips onto his face. This guy's doesn't, thankfully. This guy's hair is oily for almost the entire week. The dandruff sticking onto his hair makes him look so gross. ewww. Doesn't he ever wash the oil off his hair?

At around 10:00 AM, me and my friends Reshma and Keerthi who work in the room next to mine head out to the cafeteria downstairs for breakfast. Keerthi was my college mate and I met Reshma at the freshers' training in Neo Technologies. Keerthi comes from an Telecom background while Reshma did her Chemical engineering in North India. After we have got the food we ordered, we move onto a nice place to sit. I usually resort to a bowl of fruits. Reshma rattles off into a deep argument with Keerthi on a guy she has a crush on and my mind wanders onto the people buzzing around me. Men are dressed to their best in formals. Most of the women I spot on campus will either be in their western formals or a kurta and the skin tight leggies (including me) . A few in traditional salwars or chudidars. Quite rarely, one can spot women in a saree, and that too a handful of them. As I look around blankly, I'm reminded of Dr. Edward's words which he showered on me. Dr. Edward, my knee surgeon and family doctor said, 'a company is a place where people don't really care for your feelings. All they want is you doing your work for them. A career is not made in a year. One has to struggle in order to succeed in such a career.' I had nodded without any word at him. A chilly Tuesday morning is making me sound this to be very true. All this people around me are so damn heartless. Heartless. With no heart. Like Davy Jones of the Pirates of the Caribbean. Davy Jones is at least better. He looks far more cooler with his tentacles gnawing across his face. When you start seeing people as heartless, it becomes much more easier to deal with them. No tears. No emotions.

This doesn't stop here. I was surprised to figure out that these heartless people can be further divided into four categories Chauvinists, Conservationists, Radicals and Victorians.

Chauvinists are those people who feel that a girl in a family must be married as soon as possible when she reaches her legal marriageable age which is 21 in my country. If the age exceeds the threshold, they feel its a disgrace to have them around. I can't believe such people actually exist. 'Do you know how to cook? ', is their trademark question to decide the marriage-ability of women. I reply back with a firm 'No', to keep them away from me. Such people feel I'm a spoilt girl. Right fella. Thanks. Know what, take my feed back for you. You are a Male Chauvinist Pig.

Conservationists practice conservatism. They have certain set of fixed rules to live and behave in this world, embossed into their heads and don't change no matter what. Any deviation they observe in people, they grumble. Why can't they just appreciate the variety around them?

Victorians exist in the twenty first century too, very much in our own neighborhood. I normally see this attitude in my uncles but I was proved wrong when I entered this company. Humans with XX chromosomes or still better put as 'females' for the benefit of the laymen also exhibit this feature of 'old -fashionableness' . The frustrating part is they try to instill the same in others around them as if in a dire need to save the environment. Put your efforts in cleaning the environment of pollutants, you guys will be then much more appreciated.

Radicals- They seem like being at the top of the food chain and don't care for anyone. Funny people to hang out with.

I am lost amidst these people. I feel like an innocent kid caught among the so called, 'tentacle sans Davy Jones'

-------------------------------------------------------

I am back at my cubicle at 10:45 AM. I unlock my computer and open my editor, Eclipse. Eclipse surely eclipses your life and dreams if you can't get what you want from it on time. That's what eclipse had done to me from yesterday. I look at the screen blankly for a few minutes and then decide to restart the system. My system seems very happy to restart. It does so, very quickly. Slowly, my wallpaper ( It's from Ice Age-The Melt Down. A possum is holding Diego's jaw open with a grin on its face. Diego reminds me of my manager and the possum's smile brings a smile onto my face and I love it. ) turns into a blue screen, then into a black screen. The screen goes off. In a fraction of a minute, the screen turns on. After a few minutes, I find myself entering my password which has to be changed every 60 days and strictly, a combination of alphabets, numbers and special characters. Enter. My wallpaper pops up in front of me. I open my outlook, then eclipse.

I am making a little progress. My module seems to be responding to my feelings at last. I have been debugging for the past three hours, tracing every line in my code. My diary records every file I have debugged from morning. Six years back, it used to hold all my secret fantasies, now all it holds is meeting outcomes, tasks for the day, instructions on how to deploy an application, names of different databases of my applications, my password et all . My stomach is growling very hard. I look up at my system time, it shows 1:00 PM. I ping Keerthi on the communicator. Hey, lunch? Keerthi pings back, we'll go at 1:30

I am very hungry

Me too, ok we'll go now?

OK.....

OK, Come out, I'll be waiting outside.

Coming....

I tear out a 30 Rs food coupon from my Ticket Coupons booklet and head out. I swipe my electronic ID card. Swipe. Beep. I push the door open. Reshma and Keerthi are standing out in the corridor waiting for me. We take the stairs down to the cafeteria. The cafeteria provides a good number of options for lunch ranging from Chicken curry, Veg biryani, Meals, Noodles Spicy, Corns or with Mushrooms. The Leela caterers provide Mini Meals, North Indian and South Indian Meals. For the calorie conscious: Aloo Paratha with ice cold thick curd, oats, muesli. For those who want to quench their thirst, a little boy of around 15 years sells tender coconut under a tree shade. Our cafeteria is U shaped. There are tables and chairs on all three sides. To the right of the cafeteria is a wave pool, which I heard generates waves. I really didn't understand the purpose of this wave pool. Makes no sense. Most of the week, the water is dirty. I feel like sending samples of this water to Nithya, my Biotech friend who is now doing her MS in The US. Who knows, she might discover some new viruses and bacterias in it. Somehow the blue water pulls us towards the pool area for lunch. I dig into my roti and paneer butter masala while Keerthi, Reshma and Reshma's friend Ravi dive into another discussion, this time apparently about how Ravi is all floating in the clouds after he received recognition from his Delivery Manager.

After a hour as I walk into my floor, I can see my manager Suhas Bose busy tapping on his laptop. I sit on my orange swivel chair and take a deep breath. I turn on my system (After an hour, our systems enter into hibernate mode, so have to turn them on again. ) After the lunch my eyelids seems so heavy and surprisingly my system behaves the same way. I move my mouse pointer to the Outlook tab. The hour glass icon pops up. The whole LCD screen becomes white, with a faint blue tab on the top which says, Microsoft Outlook ( Not Responding ). Great . I pull out my Samsung Corby from my white corduroy trouser pocket and check for any messages. No messages. I frantically click on all the tabs I had opened since morning. My system hangs completely. Frustrated, I rest my head onto the desk, closing my eyes for a while listening to the voices around me.

My eyes roll down to the system time, 4:39 PM. Half an hour more for the first shuttle to leave. Its been ages since I ever left for the day at this hour. Two hours later I am going to leave this place for the day. I can meet Zayn again.... Shut up! Concentrate Carol!!! First your career then Zayn.... I think I like Zayn. Zayn is cute. Actually Zayn can fit into the handsome category.

Zayn

Cute ................................ Yes

Handsome............................. A bit

Taller than me....................... Wow! Yes

Older than me....................... 7 years. That's kind of old though Keerthi feels the age gap is fine.

Does he flirt? ................... Umm..

' Carol, do you know what is this error? ' , William, my team mate asks shaking me out of my senses. I get up and peep into his screen which is in the cubicle opposite to mine. He turns the screen towards me. I ask him to read the error out loud . He says, 'JVM Bind. Port 1080 already in use.' 'Oh that! , Just restart your system or you need to kill that port', I reply back with a smile. His face muscle twitches a bit and asks, 'Umm... How to kill a port?' . William and me graduated in the same year though he joined six months later than me. I walk into his cubicle and tell him the commands to terminate a port. He listens keenly and nods his head accepting the information and says, 'Thank You' . I smile back.

I return back to my cubicle and my mind wanders again to the system time. 6:00PM, the numbers blink at me. I force myself to concentrate on the situation ahead of me, staring at me again. I realize that some code has been misplaced in another file. If I start making changes now, I won't be able to complete and test it. So we'll do it tomorrow.......... Wish I could stay here till 9:00 PM and complete it.... Carol, just leave at 7:00 PM!! No need to stay that late. I look back at the system time. 6:15 PM. Boy!! Time zooms fast especially in the evening. I stop my work for the day. I open my Outlook and click on New Message. A new message template opens up. I click on To. I type S. Suggestions pop up. Suhas Bose. Enter. I click on cc. I type N. Again suggestions pop up. Niranjan Rawat. Enter. Niranjan is the guy who monitors my progress on completing my module. I quickly type out a message.

Hi Suhas,

PFA my task sheet for the day.

Regards,

Carolyn

There are a lot of IT jargons and implicit customs to be followed. Take this PFA for instance. PFA stands for Please Find Attached. Its customary to call people by their first names irrespective of their seniority. Initially I found it a lot weird but now I find it weird if I hear someone being referred as 'Sir'. I click on attach. Select my task sheet. I point the arrow at Send and look at the system again. Its 6:48 PM. I take a deep breath and click on Send. Message sent. I leave the rest the programs running as usual. I lock my computer by pressing, Ctrl-Alt-Del and then turn off the computer screen. I collect my blue jacket. Swing my bag onto my shoulders and leave for the day. I near the door. Swipe. Beep. Pull. Get out.

I race down three floors by stairs. I near the ground floor access system, lift my electronic ID card and swipe against it. Swipe. Beep. I am done for the day. Today wasn't productive either but somewhat better than yesterday.

I pull out my hair band and my neatly tied pony falls onto my shoulders. The window is already pushed open. The breeze calms my nerves. Just as people start getting into the bus, I keep a check on them by observing their reflection on the tinted window. After a while, the driver gets in. I check the time on my Corby, it says 7:15 PM. No sign of Zayn. I pull out my earphones and plug it into my phone. I select my play list, Twinkle. I select Hero by Enrique Iglesias. The driver switches off the lights. The song starts just as the bus's engine revs up. The bus starts to leave and I close my eyes and concentrate on the lyrics, Let me be your hero. Would you dance, if I asked you to dance. Would you run, and never look back. Would you cry, if you saw me crying? Would you save my soul tonight? Would you tremble, if I touched your lips.... I think of Zayn... Would you laugh, Oh please tell me this......... I can be your hero baby. I can kiss away the pain........ Again Zayn..........

I find myself standing on the deserted streets of Jayanagar two and half hours later, waiting for Kevin to pick me up. Kevin motions me towards our car, Skoda Octavia. I get in, without his help. Today, Kevin was behind the wheels. The driver had taken ill due to fever and was unable to report to work. I rested my head onto the head rest, closed my eyes and slept.

I was in Gilbert's arms again. I don't remember when I reached home and when Gilbert took me into his arms. All I can feel now is Gilbert's strong arms carrying me up to my room. The stairs in our foyer is automated. It can be made to turn into a slide by the push of a button on the railing. Sophie pushed the button and the stairs slowly turned into a slide. Sophie smiled and I just shut my eyes again. Gilbert carried me away to my room upstairs. Gilbert gently laid me on my bed, gently pushed my hair away and left. I closed the door behind him. I changed into my night dress and refreshed myself. Just as I opened the door, Kevin was climbing the stairs, carrying a tray of food and water. I stood at my door waiting him to approach me. Kevin motioned me to follow him to out living room in adjacent to my room. Kevin fed me. I drank water in. Kevin kissed on my forehead and wished me Good Night. Kevin watches me walk back into my room. I hop onto my bed. He turns off the lights and pulls the door behind him. I pull my black blanket over me, taking my Corby along with me to sleep. I switch it on. 1 message received. I unlock my mobile. Hey... Whassup? It was from Chaitanya, my college mate. I tapped on reply and typed, White roof.... on top of that dark blue sky. Chaitanya replied back,

Not funny

I am sorry. I am feeling down in the dumps.

Figured that out... What happened?

Nothing

Tell it off... you'll feel better

I smiled. This guy surely knows the dynamics of the female mind. When a girl says nothing, she actually means that she has a lot to say. I replied back, I didn't get an output today. Have to finish a module by tomorrow and my browser acts real weird. Stupid browser.

I don't know what to say :) this is not something related to human beings that there is a two way interaction and you are upset with the other one. It's just the comp on the other side.. There is some basic groundwork before developing webapps.. Try to master these things. Your apps behave the way you say.

I am too sleepy to comprehend his message. I skim through the message, lock my mobile and go to sleep.

----------------------------------------------------------------

My mobile beeps at 5:00 AM with a message blinking on the screen, 'get up honey'. I switch it off. It again beeps at 5:10 AM, now with the message, 'run babe run'. I finally force myself to sit up on my bed. I get out of my bed, wear my ReeTone Reebok shoes, grab my Corby and walk to the tread mill in my doll room which is to the left of my room. This room has all the gifts, dolls I got on my birthday so far. So far, it fills up the room. There is a spongy bed full of huge teddy bears and a yellow cute tweety pie. Morning light falls onto the windows which are covered by green drapes. I start the tread mill. Dr. Edward has strictly advised me not to exceed speed 4 on the tread mill. Just as I increase the speed to 4, my knee throbs a little. I decrease the speed back to 3.5 and continue walking.

My Olympic run today happened at 6:00 AM from the bathroom to my room only to stop at the iron table to pick up my pressed dress. Wednesday's dress is cream cotton trousers and white full arm formal shirt. Stephanie is an angel. Love you Stephanie. Gibbi is really lucky to have Stephanie as his lovely other half. Wonder who would be my other half? I look at my table clock, 6:15 PM. I grab my perfume, Yardley Lace and start spraying it all over my dress. Hope Zayn likes Yardley Lace.

6:32AM. The huge white bus awaits near my home. I just have to walk to the edge of the road onto the main road, which I have never have done till now, because Gilbert takes the pain to drop me off in his Skoda. I begin my usual routine. Right side of the bus. Fifth seat. Next to the window. I drop my bag onto the middle seat of the three seater. Earphones. Select play list. Select Tu Hi Haqeeqat. Select Shuffle. Play. Tu hi haqeeqat. Khwaab Tu. Dariyaa tu hi. Pyaas tu..................

The seventh stop. My heart throbs. Zayn is the third one to board the bus. Just as he boards, my music player switches to the song Zindagi Do Pal Ki. Zindagi. Do Pal Ki. Zindagi. Do Pal Ki. Intezaar kab tak hum karenge hai bhalaa. Tumhe pyaar kab tak na karenge bhalaa. Zindagi. Do Pal Ki. Given a chance, I think I might kiss this guy, any day. He does the usual. Sits next to me, 'Good Morning' , followed by 'Sweet Dreams'. I am lost looking at his light brown eyes. He says,'what?'. I smile, and reply, 'Nothing'. I look away, to force myself not to exceed the glance threshold with him. The glance threshold is less than 3 seconds. One second more than that can be counted as a stare, which can turn into be counted as a nuisance in the Corporate world. Just as the bus takes a left turn at SJP Road, I turn to my left to see Zayn sleeping peacefully. I look at his clothes. He's worn a striped blue shirt and a white corduroy trouser. His black Reebok bag is held by his macho hands. His expensive(as he claims) watch peeps out of from his cuffs. Its a Swiss watch brand. It gives a classy look to his appearance. My eyes now move onto his hair. Black curly hair. No dandruff. No baldness. Cute. I turn away looking out at the window. The morning bus's window panes are not tinted, so I am careful not to stare at anyone when I am caught in a road block. I slowly close my eyes.

I am woken up by a sudden jerk of the bus. I realize am close to office. I stretch my hands and find Zayn still napping. I look at him, then outside. I wait until the bus reaches the gate of the bus. When it does, I lightly nudge his hand, he wakes up suddenly. The bus stops and people get down in an amazingly wonderful pattern. People get up row wise and get down from the bus. Few months back, I attributed this to discipline. Now I feel, its because we are all lazy people deprived of sleep.

7:00 PM, I take a deep breath. I again let the night wind to caress my cheeks. I guess, I am more of a time server. I might be the only one to run out of office not caring to complete my work when the clock chimes 7:00 PM. ... . . . I really don't understand this work culture. Is it proper for me to stay back or me running away at this hour is justified? I am confused. Seriously, big time confused. Should I ask someone about this? Hmmmm.... I don't know.

As usual, earphones are plugged into my ears. The song, 'Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna' starts playing.

jitni thi khushiya sab kho chuki hain... bas ek gham hain ki jaatha nahin... samjha ke dekhan... behla ke dekhan... dil hain ki chain isko aatha nahin.. aatha nahin... aasoo hain ki hain angaare...aag hain ab aankhon se behana... kabhi alvida na kehna......... ruth aa rahi hain...............

As people start boarding the bus, I can see Zayn one among them. Zayn approaches at my seat. I lift my bulky black backpack and place it onto my lap. Zayn smiles and takes the seat next to me. I turn to my left and observe him. My mind is absolutely blank. I can see he is gasping for breath. Maybe he ran to catch this bus. The bus starts to move and I still continue to gape at Zayn. Zayn removes the ID tag from his neck and wraps the blue tag along the card as if to wring his card. He feels me staring at him( that is for quite a while ! ) . He turns his head at me. He smiles and asks, 'What's up? ' . Usually I am good at answering to questions like this. But at this hour, with Zayn next to me, I resort to, 'roof, lights, above that the dark blue sky, perhaps studded with stars' . He laughs out, so loud, that I wonder what I just said to make him laugh so suddenly. Zayn takes my case and adds the sky isn't blue. Zayn has this penchant for Physics ( and the fact that I don't fancy that subject ) that the moment I hear those words, I am like, ' yeah whatever' ( which is to make him stop blathering on physics). He seems to have ignored my comment and continues to talk.

I must acknowledge my unique social skills. I have the distinct ability to look at someone pretending that I am listening while my mind keeps thinking something else. In today's context, I am able to look, to be more precise, 'stare' at Zayn and pretend as I am listening to his Physics narration. My mind roams at his facial features. His hair reminds me of my doll's hair, except that his hair is jet black, so like most Indians ( also like mine ). Next at his eyes. I am surprised. I had never paid attention to his eyes before. His eyeballs are light brown in color. Absolutely brilliant. Then my eyes roam over to his fulcrum. Since he seems to shave off his moustache, my eyes rolls down to his mouth. I give a fleeting glance at his red lips and look back at his eyes, asking him in my mind, 'can I kiss you? , can I ? , can I ??'

After a few moments, the Physics narration stopped. In return, I smiled. I looked away, out of the window, at the cars whizzing past our mini bus. The metallic colours of the cars twinkles like stars against the halogen street lights. I rest my head against the head rest of the seat. Somewhere, in the deep darkness of the bus, I feel my hand being nudged. I look at Zayn almost instantly. He is smiling sheepishly. I can't help but smile along with him. I realize that he is imitating me. I bite my lower lip. He does the same. I fold my arms against my chest. His eyes rests on my arms and he instantly does the same, as if a brain wave instructed his neurons to imitate me. Our eyes meet. I can't control myself. I break out into a laughter.

8:30 PM. One peep behind our seat finding out that no one is in the bus except both of us and one glance at each other brings an amazing -ly creepy smile across his face. I am thinking of recommending his smile for an award. Truly deserving. One smile from his side sends a couple of spine chills along with my heart pounding faster with my mind adding to the scene, 'wow! he looks so cute! ........' . Before my mind completes the sentence, I find myself in a warm embrace soon followed by a kiss. When I come out of the embrace, ( this I really find it hard to do ) I look into his eyes. His eyes are studying me for my reaction. I smile weakly, stunned at what just happened. My mind refuses to believe too. My mind comments, 'I can't believe this. I simply cannot. He kissed me!..... Pretty amazing though.... lol' , while I meakly stare at him. The lights of the bus are turned on.

He realizes his place to get to down from the bus is nearing. His stare softens, finally smiles, and says.......

I wake up suddenly to the sudden jerk of the bus. As I open my eyes, I realize no one is inside the bus except me. I quickly gather my belongings and walk upto the front seat of the bus. The driver notices me and hands me over a white slip of paper, on which I quickly scribble the last drop point name, the drop time, my employee ID, followed by my name and signature. The bus stops at the place I have to get down. I get down to find Gilbert waiting for me.

Teddy :)

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Sat, 23 Oct 2010 23:38:00 +0000

Who ever discovered stuffing cotton into woollen materials must be really appreciated and given a big big hug. That creatures are nothing but 'teddy bears' !!!

Teddy bears are probably the only creatures who:
Look at you intently when you are talking out your heart.
Hugg you back no matter how dirty your dress is.
Lends a shoulder to cry on and the best part the tears get absorbed , and makes one to get the feel as if some one is wiping the tear off.
The Bestest part is , teddy bears never lick you. The ultimate hygiene part of it compared to mens best friends.

A big kiss to my teddy bear :) Love you teddy :)

Black Beauty and the Beast

noreply@blogger.com (Kris Junior) — Sun, 03 Oct 2010 01:51:00 +0000

Colors have a great impression in our lives. Every year people deck up the interiors of their homes with bright colors. Marriages are never complete with a shower of colorful flower petals on the newly weds. Among the wide variety of vibrant colors among our lives, black is the only color which has walked through centuries enduring emotions of all kinds.

Black is regarded as the corporate color. Corporates wear black colored suits to show off their mark as a IT professional. Advocates wear black coats to symbolize their profession. Christians wear black when a family member dies. To them, it is a mark of respect to the deceased. For any young adult, a wardrobe is never complete without a black dress. Possessing automobiles of black color is a rage in every part of this world. Simply put, black color is the most indispensable for any occasion, profession and accessory, be it in any country any day.

Unfortunately, the human race is tagged into two colors, the blacks and the whites. We have all read and heard about the fight by Nelson Mandela and the like to eradicate such dissimilarities among people based on the color of the skin. Though it seems such cases have disappeared on the face of it, it still is deeply rooted into some people's minds. Take for instance, a recent ad campaign on a moisturizing cream which had been named as, 'white beauty'. It clearly signifies that those who have a fair complexion are deemed as beautiful. Such ads when reflected on adolescents give a wrong impression of being beautiful. Being beautiful comes from within us. One doesn't need a fifty gram bottle packed with chemicals to make them feel beautiful. Why do we need monks and saints to remind us that beauty within us?. Paul McCartney said, “You can judge a man's true character by the way he treats his fellow animals”. How we treat others, how we think of ourselves makes us beautiful.

Every year models who are fair complexioned are tagged as the most beautiful of the world. A recent Miss World competition which awarded a dark complexioned model as the winner was much appreciated and a welcome move in this regard.

Day by day matrimonials are filled with ads by people who advertise the need for a fair bride. If one fancies possessing a black colored Porsche then how does marrying a dark skinned bride make a huge difference to his life, apart from rearing dark skinned children? The social-economic conditions in which one has been brought up should be taken into account rather than solely depending on the appearance.

Such situations sadly make black color sound as the most prejudiced color of our lives. If black color is worshiped when it comes to accessories, vehicles, clothes then why do we find it so hard to adopt the same culture when it comes to the color of our human skin?